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atyourmerci · 1 month

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☀︎To the light is to the darkness✩

Abby X reader X Ellie

Prologue to vengeance (can be read alone)

☀︎ ☀︎

Summary: Abby is your childhood best friend, you did everything together, taught each other everything. You were utterly infatuated with each other until Ellie Williams enters your world.

Warning: smut, MDNI, porn w lots of plot, innocence arc, mutual pining, lots of sexual tension, mutual masturbation (in the same room, together), fingering if you squint, useless lesbians, lesbian love triangle, abby needs a hug, phoebe bridgers as her own warning, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: okay so holy fuck did I get carried away with this one. I didn’t want to leave yall on a cliffhanger but this dynamic deserves more and I don’t want to rush through it. I hope yall enjoy. This chapter is mostly just abby but there will be lots more Ellie in the next chapter promise :)

✩ ✩

“Someone you couldn’t lose. You said we’re not together, so now when we kiss I have anger issues.”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

A relationship that felt more of interlacing two souls into one that resided in two structures. Shared autonomy of mind, breath, word, and body. Unspoken feelings, touches, and stares.

What started in green fields of pink flowers and brown roots ended in dark rooms and pining embraces. Hand shakes turning into interlaced fingers, laughter filled glances turning into tense stares, and experimental pecks turning into open mouthed pants.

The first time you meet abby was at school at 15. Bright eyed and bushy tailed still untainted from the reality of the world around you. You were quite shy in those years, keeping yourself away from the wild hairs of children ready to grow up and take charge. You were okay with the stability of childhood, the sticky sweet feeling of safety and uncharted terror.

Before Abby’s dad had died, before the muscles and long locks of golden blonde hair she was reserved too. Abby was wrapped in a bubble of comfort, a loving community that doted on her. She felt no need to join the crowd of chaos when she had everything she needed.

Well she thought she did…and then she met you.

In class you had your face shoved into a notebook doodling away of ferns and dandelions you had seen in the fields early that day. If it were up to you, you’d spend every last dying breath in the fields, soaking in sunlight and trailing your fingers through the rows of flowers.

Abby sat next to you in class, always too shy to speak up to you. You always seemed so busy, either reading, drawing, or with your head in the clouds, never truly listening to the lecture ahead. She admired your creativity, attention to detail, and the utter sense of unawareness to your surroundings. She wondered why you didn’t talk to the others, you were so inviting, so pretty. She once wished to look like you, how effortlessly magnificent you looked.

She grew too curious, over zealous at the thought of being close to you, understanding you. She knew she had to speak up.

“H-hey you draw pretty cool- I mean- it’s really good…what you draw.”

You had never taken more than a glance at the freckled girl until then. She always seemed just as busy as you, so you never bothered her.

You let out a bellied laugh at the now crimson red faced girl- completely embarrassed by her attempt at recognition.

And that was that. The two of you were inseparable, attached at the hip from then on out.

Abby seemed to understand your weird quirks and odd fascinations. Even when she didn’t, she was there open minded and wide eyed to hear your lengthy ramblings on about nothingness.

Sometimes it felt like you did most of the talking. Not that it was one sided or you wouldn’t let her butt in, but rather she was completely enamored by what you thought. Sometimes all she wanted to do was to hear you talk, you were her favorite person, the own mold of herself.

She wanted to think what you thought, feel what you felt, see the world through your eyes.

As the years went on you only seemed to grow closer to abby as she grew fonder of you.

Some could call it an obsession, the way you treated each other. Not a single thought went by that the other didn’t know. If you were there, so was abby. If you knew something, so did she.

Everyday she would follow you to the fields after school, your special escape you’d learn to share with the other half of your being.

You’d make her lay across the flower ridden fields so you could draw her glistening hair kissed by the whisk of wind. She let her hair grow longer since you’d ask to braid it for her every morning. She liked it short but she wanted to let you have room to make intricate designs and lace them with weeds you’d found.

Abby would playfully nudge you when you’d draw the hump on her nose in the drawings, but you loved it too much to not appreciate it. You loved all the things she couldn’t in herself.

You two spent hours out in the field daily, even when it rained you’d make her dance around like fairies as mud splattered across your shins. Anything you wanted, she’d do as long as it was with you.

That’s when you asked her to try kissing, she’d obliged.

“Have you ever…kissed anyone?” You ask staring off into the cloud painted sky, tall grass framing your bodies.

She lets out a breathy giggle, “no… you would know if I did.”

You shrug, shoulder crashing gently into hers, “I don’t know, maybe it was too embarrassing to say.”

She trails off, “h-have you?”

“No dumbass you would know…” you push your shoulder into her turning to give her a toothy smile, “what if I’m not good when a boy kisses me?”

Her eyes remained trained onto the pillowy cloud, “you can try on me- I-if you want to.”

It was a good idea, she wasn’t going to judge you, she was your best friend, she was only there to help.

“Okay.” And without a second thought your upper body shot up and lent over hers, pressing your lips into her plush pink ones. It was gentle, only a placement amongst the flesh, yet so charged. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach and up to your throat, something you had only felt once before when you and abby went swimming.

Closeness you thought. Being close to someone causes that. How nice it was to be so close to your favorite person, maybe one day you could feel close to someone again.

After that you continued to experiment kissing. At sleepovers you’d talk about the boys you wanted to kiss, then show each other how you would kiss them. It turned into an innocent routine, pecking her before she would leave, kissing her in the fields when you felt the butterflies.

You’d told her about them- the fluttering in your stomach. Whenever you felt them she told you that she wanted to feel them too. Transferring them through the soft pink flesh, she’d say she’d feel them after.

Soon she’d tell you when she got them, to which you’d return the gesture back. As time went on, the butterflies came more often.

People were starting to notice the relationship, started talking about how close the two of you were. You’d shoo off the irrational comments and over zealous accusations, but abby never did. She just didn’t respond.

“Who am I to ask for more? But you’re breathing in my open mouth. You’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out.”

Abby started spending the night daily, she practically lived in your room at that point. After her dad died your relationship grew stronger than ever. In such a treacherous time she clung to the only person who truly understood her. Many a nights she spent huddled into a ball in your lap weeping as you smoothed the hair behind her ear and rubbing circles into the grown muscles in her back.

Abby had taken to working her emotions out in physical labor. Now being a solider full time out of school she had grown muscular and more rough. Her heart was still the same for you, but had grown caged off to the people around you.

Her pleasantries for the rest of the community had grown stale, only allowing a few to get near her. But you… there was always an indefinite spot inside her for you.

Since abby was always around now, in the darkness of every night, privacy had flown right out the window. Not that you had minded- there wasn’t much of really anything abby didn’t know or hadn’t seen.

But when that eery sense of familiarity crept up, when the butterflies would come at night.

She had started out sleeping on the extra bed in your room. Before she had practically moved in she’d sleep with you, but since her stay turned to no vacancy she’d taken to given you the last sense of space, even when you hadn’t asked.

In the middle of darkness as the crickets chirped outside the window you’d tell her the feeling had come back, and she’d always agree, and the room would fall silent again.

“Abby?” You call out to a darkened room, illuminated by the shine of the moon.

“Yeah?” She’d call back from the other side.

“Do you ever…fix the feelings of the butterflies. Like make them go away?”

“Uh yeah- sometimes…when it gets bad.”

“I think mine are…bad right now,” it felt embarrassing almost, there was nothing she could do to help, fix your issue. Transferring the butterflies to abby only made them worse sometimes, and you were boiling.

“M-mine too,” she admits.

“You can fix it- if you need to.”

“A-re you going to stop yours?”

“Is that okay?” You say reluctantly into the tense air coating you. Every slight move felt with a million nerves.

“Mhmm,” she responds, a rustling heard coming from her direction.

Soft hums filled the air from the feeling of release you had allowed yourself in the presence of your best friend. Abby’s breathy moans would only follow quickly after your own, never before.

Dual release become a routine. Allowing the sticky sweet sensations of climaxing in the same bedroom of your other half. It became another thing you shared with her, another check on the list of the endeavors you’d participated in with her.

Talks of the butterflies and the unleashing of them never left those four chipping walls. Some things were meant for just Abby’s ears. All best friends must do the same. You’d never heard of others talk of sorts so you sealed your lips, a secret kept like a bird in a cage.

As you both had grown accustomed to the routine things gradually got more intense. Sometimes you couldn’t get the butterflies to fly away even when you tried for hours, panting out whimpers of frustration. Even when they would go away sometimes they would crept back in immediately, your body unable to be satiated.

Abby begun sleeping in the bed with you, to calm the frustrating unnerve you felt after no avail. She’d tell you she wish she could help you, make them go away. She’d do anything to make you happy.

That’s when you started touching yourselves next to each other. The routine was upheld for so long that it felt natural to do it even when she was right next to you. First fully covered, then in undergarments, to finally completely bare.

Seeing Abby’s bare flesh only made it worse. You weren’t stupid, the pieces were falling into place before your eyes. But you hadn’t seen anyone else naked before, maybe it would be the same. Her flesh so pale, her nipples shades of pale pink roses, and the hair that trailed down to her folds as golden as wheat. You had never seen something so magnificent, so beautifully crafted.

That was something you didn’t share with her. The drawings of her bare flesh. You made sure to memorize each chisel, line, and freckle to be as accurate as possible once you got to your notebook. With every piece of her revealed opening thousands of opportunities to draw her art. She was so fucking beautiful.

“When was the first time?” The auburn girl had asked you.

It all had meshed into a blur, what had happened and when it did. When you and abby had started sleeping together it started on opposite ends. Heat not close enough to sting your flesh but the air still tense enough to be cut clean with a blade. As time grew on and the routine becoming daily, the space between you started to close in. Knees brushing as your legs wavered, arms transferring sticky sweat in the blistering heat of arousal.

The inevitable placement of foreheads touching as you watched each other fall apart, watching the butterflies flutter out of her throat with every pant.

From what you could call the ‘beginning’ of sorts, rather an act of mercy, came from her.

You found yourself in the familiar position of unnerve. Rubbing aimless quick circles on your abused clit. It became a matter of principle at the point, needing to fulfill the urge even knowing the outcome would leave you more helpless than before. Abby’s butterflies were far gone, now rubbing lazy stripes down her slit in attempt to not let you feel alone. She never wanted you to feel like she wasn’t completely enthralled by your every move.

Your leg sprawled across her own, wide open, bucking your hips into the air as you let out frustrated grunts, eyes sealed shut in concentration. She just watched. She loved watching you touch yourself. Abby felt like the luckiest girl in the world getting to watch you, kiss you, feel you. She wanted to feel more of you, every atom in your body she’d kiss if you’d allow it.

“Let me help” she said, eyes trained on your open mouth.

Your brain was too fuzzy to even comprehend the depth of the act, so pent up and eager.

“Mhmm,” was all you could muster up. As her calloused fingers transferred from her skin to your abdomen, your body jolted up. You had never been touched by another. Not like this. She took her time running the tips of her fingers from your side to the mound, taking your hand and moving it your thigh so she could replace it with her own.

Something deep in your belly erupted when you felt her fingers meet your clit. A flock of doves released from their cage, a gasping goldfish meeting water. An exaggerated sigh of relief came out as a depraved moan. Every nerve in your body heightened by her gentle touch.

She drew cautious and attentive swipes across the newly swollen bud, watching for when your breath would hitch.

“You’re so warm,” she said studying your face as it contorted in pleasure. Your chin raised high, burying your scalp into the frilly pillows below. She had then studied the flesh around your neck, oh why had she never noticed that. How thin the skin was there, how close she could get to you in that space.

“I-it feels b-better when you do it,” you admit to her, water in her hands, hips grinding into the soft touch of her. “Y-yeah really?” She says, perking up, so pleased with knowing she could make you feel better. She’d do anything to make you feel better.

You let your stagnant hand run down her chiseled chest to meet her mound, her sticky slit pooling at her core. You meant to return the favor, an eye for an eye. “It’s okay- just let me help you.”

You shook your head in agreement, but let your hand rest on the pulsing flesh, you wanted to feel her like she felt you.

With every gentle circle she took you closer to release. It was so much faster when she did it. When you did it together before you would lie there for hours flicking at the raw skin to no avail, but in minutes she had you tipping at your edge.

Her strokes felt akin to the ones on your notebook, gentle and cautious direction, seeking a desirable outcome. You’d thought to picture this, able to recreate this on paper shielded from her eyes. What would she think if she saw them? Maybe you’d grown too fond of the other half of your heart.

“Abby!” You scream out, nearing your pending release.

“Y-yeah? D-does it feel okay- are you okay?” She perks up in concern, helplessly worried she had hurt you.

“Yes- Yes! It- it’s coming,” you pant out, body slick with sweat as your arousal pools below you. A sloppy mess of bodies interlaced with remorseless pleasure.

“Let me feel them, I want to feel them,” abby says inches from your face, intently watching the contortions of your face below her. The butterflies, oh how she wished she could flutter in your tummy as they do so effortlessly.

You cave shamelessly, pressing into the soft pink flesh. You try to keep them stable, but as you reach the cliffs edge you can’t help but moan pathetically into her throat. Your hips thrust into the calloused fingers, chasing the lasting feelings of her, escaping your doom and passing the burden through your lips onto hers.

You did draw of this, and every time after that. It became an obsession, mental images snapshotted to accuracy for replication later.

The routine increased in frequency and intensity. Exploring each other’s most sacred places. She would let you touch her sometimes, but only when she was touching you. Abby seemed more interested in your pleasure than her own. But she cared about you, she never wanted you unsettled. She wanted to be your salvation.

“I ask you how you’re doing and I let you lie. But we don’t have to talk about it, I can walk you home and practice method acting. I’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning.”

“Does she make you feel them?”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

Ellie Williams was so…vulgar, erratic, a ticking time bomb. The pieces of the puzzle connected at last when you lied eyes on the auburn haired girl.

She had entered the WLF as gentle as a bomb to a building. Fiery hot attitude, a chip on her shoulder, and drowning green eyes. At first glance she utterly captivated your ever fleeting thoughts.

When she first walked through the corridors of the stadium your eyes fixed on her, staring rudely at her every move. “Who is that, the girl?” You ask the unfazed blonde next to you, too busy working at sharpening a blade, “names Ellie, they say she’s trouble. By the looks of her, checks out.”

“What did she do? Why is she here?” You continue your glare, taking note of the pink scare rippled along the crest of her eye.

You had never drawn anyone other than abby, but the girls features were so strong, the strokes would come naturally in your grasp. A secret muse possibly, even from a far.

“I don’t know- stay away from her. She reeks of trouble,” she’d remark, finishing off the blade and leading you off to a pending mission.

You tried, you really did. She was so compelling, and you? You were a bee to honey. Was she soft unlike her features? Did she speak of the world beyond her? Did she like to watch the clouds mesh into unlikely objects? Did she know of the butterflies and their ever present existence in your lungs?

Your notebook grew of only her, the short frayed hair, the pink scare, the freckles that littered her face. So effortlessly magnificent she was, unknowingly your own secret work of art.

Until abby found them.

Related to this work

Song lyrics: casual , waiting room , cool about it

Moodboard

If you enjoy the childhood best friend trope with abby highly recommend this fic by @kieranscaren she writes beautifully and gave me great inspiration for this work:)

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow @a-little-bit-of-everybody

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satoruhour · 4 months

Text

STILL (ALWAYS) HERE

a/n: part two to this but not really? enjoy!

wc: 2.4k

warnings: spider-man!gojo, a little ooc gojo, mentions of blood and bruises, cleaning up wounds, some angst -> comfort, play on that one scene from tasm 2

you’re thinking that you’ve hit another dead end when you groan into your sheets from the headache that wraps around your head. it’s mild and dull but there’s still that throb at the back of your consciousness that you can’t exactly take your mind off of. at least, that was what you were telling yourself — normal headaches caused by the stress of university, and definitely not because of a trivial fight with your boyfriend.

the daunting calculus question stares back at you like it was mocking you, teasing you for getting heated over such a small thing when you knew he was only looking out for you with the best intentions in mind.

with a longing look to your abandoned convo with spider-man!gojo, you sink again into your pillow, lights suddenly looking too bright and the music in your ears, jarring. you haven’t seen him in school today, thinking him to be dramatic as always. but he didn’t need lectures and seminars at this point, either, knowing him to be one of the smartest people you know.

in the midst of quelling your headache and thinking of how to apologise, you don’t notice the way your vigilante boyfriend weaves his web around the trees just outside your window, crafting a sweet message of i miss you along the branches and leaves.

a tangle of webs, stuck like honeycomb to some abandoned shed, a tangle of webbing like his hip to yours. tangles of countless webs like his lips along your forehead when you fall asleep too early during study sessions and finally, his heart beating in time with yours.

one fell swoop of a rock from above makes you head tilt in utter confusion; in no world could a rock fall against your window in an arc like that come from anyone of this world, this dimension, yet you know no other person with wall-sticking and web-shooting abilities and it’s then when the complicated entanglement of letters come into view.

your heart clenches up just a little at the sight, a clear indication that it’s satoru from the similarity of his handwriting that’s on his own pre-calc homework. before you can call out, he shifts diagonally outside your window, mask removed and chest heaving at the anticipation of your reaction — both to the tension of your fight before and possibly another thing.

the darkness of the night hardly provides clarity, though, so when you don’t walk away, gojo feels the pull of your eyes on him, drawing him in and trapping him within your own web like prey. crawling along the side of your house, he gives you one more small pleading look: roughed up hair looking a little dirty and his body just aching so much.

“baby . .” he mumbles, blue eyes softening at the sight of you after not seeing you for just one day. it does things to him, “may i?”

but you’re not truly prepared for until your ceiling light exposes the reality of gojo’s situation, what with his cut-filled face and rips all over his suit. it’s dirty, like he was dragged around and made a fool of fighting god knows who, and he’s — oh my god — is all you mouth out, he’s bleeding from a fairly large wound in his side which he has held pressure with his mask.

“’toru!” you panic and quieten down, “oh— oh my god, fuck, fuck fuck, what do i do? satoru— you’re b-bleeding—” and you regret every single word you yelled at him just the day before, now rewarded (or cursed, rather) with his pristine white suit stained a deep, traumatising red. you’re shaking, rightfully so, and gojo is more calm than you, using his free and clean hand to rub circles into your sides.

“breathe, you gotta breathe, princess.”

“n-no— you breathe! you’re l-losing blood!’’ your throat closes in, your head fills with thoughts of his coffin being lowered. you start to sob, “satoru—”

“hey, hey, hey,” it’s both gentle and strong enough to catch your attention, brushing the stray strands from your face and you already lean into the long-awaited touch. his thumb wipes away the tears that already start falling, “’m still here, ’m still here. i’ve tried my best to cover the wound with extra shirts of mine, just stuffed into my suit.”

sniffling, you speak through hiccups, “why the hell do you have extra shirts in your fighting-villains backpack? w-why do you even bring a fighting-villains backpack?”

through the absurdity of it all: fucking spider-man bleeding out on your wooden floor, your tears mixing in with blood, the branches outside starting to snap and fall from the added tension of the webs, satoru laughs softly, fully cupping your face now and trying his best not to grimace at the increasing ache in his side.

“and you always laugh at the weirdest fucking times!” you chastise, still speaking through periodic hiccups and sniffles that you keep stuttering, not even able to smack him like you like to do because you know he hurts, “now wait here, you loser.”

a soft thank you is heard, able to breathe a little harsher now that you’ve gone to find the first aid, anxiety obvious in the pattering footsteps heard. without wasting any time, you grab the kit and let him peel off the suit in the bathroom, not even that much focused on his toned body but the amount of bruises and cuts that litter it.

a new wave of panic settles in your bones, a whimper sounding out when your feather-like touches span over his body.

“satoru . .”

“i’m so—”

“no,” you mumble, getting to work fast by taking out the gauze, bandages, whatever you could use. thank the heavens you at least knew some first aid, wincing whenever he hisses at the stinging alcohol. “let’s not talk about our fight now.”

he swallows, knuckles white from how tight he was gripping the sink, “f-first time you’re not asking me to apologise, heh—”

from behind, he can see you lift your eyes from the careful care you execute on his side, meeting your eyes in the mirror that gloss over again with tears and his heart sinks again.

“p— please don’t make jokes when i’m literally stitching you up, satoru,” you whisper, forehead bumping into his bicep, soft but quick breaths fanning over the skin there, “i don’t wanna talk, not while i almost lost you.”

“but it’s hardly any—”

“gojo satoru!” the shout of his full name shocks both of you, not even sure whether you were feeling angry at the fact that he always downplays his injuries, or sad at the fact that he can’t see that he deserves to be taken care of, too. it was always a guessing game with satoru.

“it’s not just anything, g-god! can you have some regard for yourself?” you don’t care that your words echo off the bathroom walls, its acoustics probably making your wails even more heartbreaking for your boyfriend. “look at yourself and tell me that it’s hardly anything! tell me, say it to my face!”

your nose is red, tear stains already making their home on your pretty face while your fingers squeeze the gauze instinctively, and he tells himself it’s all because of him. it’s all because he didn’t want to be a couple in public in fear that his enemies would target you, because he was afraid they’d use you as leverage, as a decoy, as a trade deal. but that has only made the yearning for you more difficult — pinkies barely brushing against each other, an inside joke swallowed into his throat.

satoru is silent, not sure what he could say that wouldn’t hurt you any further and he turns to lean against the sink counter, bloodied hands staining the marble and suit. and if he looked hard enough, he’s sure he can see the ache of your palpitating heart, bleeding down your chest and pooling at the floor from all the pain he’s caused you.

you dance across the bathroom floor, tiles both cold and warm under your feet as you make your move without any sound, afraid, afraid, like he would get pulled away the moment you touch him.

but he doesn’t go anywhere — just jerking a little at the sudden contact.

“satoru . .” hoarse, tired, it’s what he made your voice sound like just yesterday from shouting, and now, today, “i . .”

you cry quietly but never stop your ever loving hands, holding his face to look up from the shame, and you see how dull his cerulean ones look now, softened but dim, gentle but lacking vivacity. you think maybe it’s the tears hindering it. bit by bit, gojo’s tears fall and he apologises.

satoru apologises over and over, i’m sorry’s muttered into your hair, into your forehead, into your lips and both your hands are shaking like on a first date.

“i just can’t bear to lose you,” you mumble shakily, trembling fingers tracing the lines of his features, “and i hope you know how much you mean to me, and— and how much it hurts to see you so nonchalant about being beaten up like this . .”

you stifle a sob when he kisses your fingers as they travel over his lips, having crossed oceans over his eyes and mountains through his nose. his lips, his lips look just like the sanctuary of everything soft and good and righteous, that sliver of perfect time like on juliet’s balcony.

“i’m sorry, i am so sorry, darling. i—” gojo sighs, pain now turning numb but still trying his best not to move an inch, “i guess i just become so used to taking care of aunt may that, i . . am not used to being taken care of.”

you nod in understanding, “i’m sorry too, for lashing out, for dismissing your efforts to make me feel safe. you were only looking out for me.”

gojo’s eyes avert from yours again, looking down at the one thing that signified his place in society — never that much seen, not much recognised, but still revered as the city’s hero. it represents anything from something as simple as getting back an old lady’s handbag to fighting off a scientist-turned-reptilian. but it also represents the why.

why he fights so hard. a star student like gojo definitely wouldn’t pass off the praises when he saves a falling civilian, but it was much deeper than that when it came to it, wanting the city he grew up in to be safe and to seeing the grateful, relieved expressions of passers-by.

it was for you, when the last face he sees before he closes his eyes for the night is your pretty one and he’d be damned if that changed any time soon.

that night where satoru is all patched up and lying like a statue because he’s afraid he’d tear your nicely done stitches (you assured him it was mediocre at best), his hand finds your hand naturally again, playing with the strands aimlessly.

all thoughts of the news articles showing his cheeky spider mask expression, to the funky poses he pulls (from a camera so high up it would really only be one person who plants it there), phases out the cool, suave spider-man persona and centres the stupid, goofy, annoying gojo satoru.

and you smile softly to yourself knowing you’d be the only one to see gojo satoru like this.

“i should’ve told you why; it wasn’t fair of me to just stop acting like we’re head over heels— hey, why are you smiling?”

“no reason.” and your smile brightens.

“that’s not no reason,” he matches your grin, pulling on your cheek playfully before his hand goes to your nape like clockwork and tugs gently. like you were just a normal couple after a long day, without any indication of a gash along his side, but gojo satoru was far from normal in the grand scheme of things, “there’s always a reason.”

“is that the motto that the great spider-man lives by?” you inch closer to him, smiling from above in the dimness of the room so much so that it makes you look like royalty and him a mere commoner.

“uh . . no, pretty sure it’s ‘with great power comes great responsibility’,” gojo jests with sarcasm laced in his voice, roping you in and you, letting yourself get caught always as you lower yourself on his chest, but not before your lips meet his in a soft, quiet dance with you both being the only ones in the ballroom.

the rush of love that fills you overflows in the way your mouth moves against his, not wanting this sweet, sweet dream to end. especially if you come out empty-handed at the end of it all with spider-man’s, gojo’s blood on your hands, so you keep your eyes shut tight with a promise to yourself to welcome him with welcome arms the second, third, fourth, nth that he climbs through your window, bloodied and tired.

“i’m still here,” satoru whispers against your lips when he feels just how tense you are, easing out the lines of your face and holds you in that moment, held frozen in time like a scene in a snow globe, “i will be here for as long as we are alive,” he takes your hand and puts it up to his heart to remind you of its status, of how it speeds up a tad bit when you stroke his chest, “and i am alive whenever you are near.”

the quiet moment is shared with another soft kiss, features now relaxed when you smile against his lips and inspire the next few moments of endless laughter and jokes, falling into the same breath when sleep catches up.

in the bathroom lies his white-turned-red suit, left abandoned for the normalcy you both chase in your bedroom for at least a few hours until spider-man has to go back to being spider-man and you have calc questions to finish up on. but until then, with the alarm you set at 6am in secrecy before his classes, you’d wake up just to soak and hand wash the red out, returning the blue and white suit back to its glory.

when satoru wakes up the next morning, he finally knows why your warmth in bed was missing for a brief moment of time when he sees the clean folded up suit with his mask on top. you don’t miss with a sandwich either, and a cheeky note — all the best for your most dreaded class!!! if u can fight and come out alive i believe u can survive prof. masamichi lol.

and he laughs softly, sparing a glance to your sound, peaceful self and he finds a renewed sense of the reason why he decided to become spider-man.

spider-man— satoru seals his love with a kiss to your forehead and a messy mumble of i love you, long overdue from the night before.

“thank you for loving me.”

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk gojo x you #jjk gojo satoru #jjk gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojou fluff #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk drabbles #gojo satoru fluff

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dixons-sunshine · 16 days

Text

Just A Bad Dream | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: Despite being together for over a year, Daryl had never once uttered those three important words to you. You had never let it bother you, choosing to move at the archers preferred pace. One night, after a particularly bad dream, was when those important words were uttered to you.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Era: Alexandria, post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Nightmares.

Word count: 1k.

A/n: Working on transferring all of my projects from my old phone to this one, so I wrote this little snippet instead to have something to post. Hope y'all like it! This was inspired by a post I saw on my dash but I don't know who made the original post.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“No. Please, no! Dun' hurt her, please!”

Stirred from your slumber by your partner's distressed mumbling, you turned over in the bed. You slowly rubbed the sleep from your eyes, clearing the sleep induced fog from your mind before turning your head towards the sleeping archer beside you.

Your heart clenched in pain at the sight of distress evident on his face. His eyes were scrunched tightly and his eyebrows were furrowed into a deep frown. His breathing was erratic and there was sweat rolling down his temple.

While deciding whether or not to gently shake Daryl awake, Daryl bolted upright in bed. “No!”

“Daryl?” you spoke softly, sitting up slowly and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. However, it seemed as though he was still stuck in a daze, because he jerked away from your touch, whipping his head to stare at you with wide eyes.

“Daryl, baby, it's okay! It's just me. It's just me. You're okay. You're here with me,” you reassured him in a soft voice, slowly placing your hand on his shoulder again. When he didn't flinch away this time, you brought both of your hands up to cup his cheeks. “You're okay.”

Daryl slowly nodded, his breathing sounding choked off. Unwillingly, a tear slipped from his glossy eyes, and you gently wiped it away with your thumb. Acting on instinct, Daryl moved forward and wrapped his arms around you, dropping his head onto your shoulder. A sob wracked through his body, causing your heart to break into a million pieces for the man who you loved dearly.

You placed a small, tender kiss to his temple, slightly rocking your bodies from side to side. You simply held Daryl in your arms and allowed him to cry it out, acutely aware of the fact that he rarely, if ever, cried. His emotions bottled over and this one particular nightmare was his breaking point. Whatever the nightmare was about, it must've been terrible for the strong archer to break down.

“He killed ya,” Daryl finally told you in a broken whisper, his voice cracking towards the end. “He killed ya and I couldn't stop him.”

“Who?” you gently urged, rubbing your hand soothingly over his back, hoping to bring him some comfort.

Daryl shook his head, tightening his arms around you. “I dun'—I dun' know,” he whispered with a strain in his voice, sniffling slightly. “It was Negan at first, but then it was my father, and after a while I couldn't tell 'em apart anymore. One of 'em brought that fuckin' bat over yer head and I had to watch. I couldn't stop him. I can't lose ya, I can't—”

You pressed another kiss to his head, holding the back of his head gently as he buried his head deeper into your shoulder. His tears were staining your—technically his—shirt, but you didn't even notice. Your only focus at that moment was to try and calm the archer down. To reassure him that it was only a nightmare, that you were okay.

“Daryl, hey. Look at me,” you softly urged him, watching carefully as he slowly lifted his head and looked into your eyes. “I'm okay. I'm right here. It was only a nightmare. Your father's dead and Negan is locked up. He might as well be dead. Neither of them will ever get to me or anyone else ever again.”

Daryl nodded, his eyes casting downwards. “I know. S'jus'... M'scared,” he admitted, bringing one of his hands up to wipe the tears from his eyes. “I can't lose ya. I jus' can't. I won't survive if somethin' happened to ya.”

“You won't lose me,” you reassured him, pulling him into your arms. Slowly and carefully, you lowered yourself down until you were laying back on the bed, Daryl now comfortably laying on your chest. “I promise you, nothing will happen to me. I won't go anywhere near Negan. You're stuck with me for the rest of your life, Dixon.”

Daryl chuckled softly, burying his head deeper into your chest. “I like the sound of tha',” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your chest. He sighed in content when he felt your fingers begin to thread through his hair, closing his eyes at the comforting feeling.

In no time at all, Daryl was yawning, eliciting a fond giggle from you. “Go to sleep, baby. I promise I'll be here when you wake up.”

Daryl nodded and allowed his body to relax, willing his mind to shut off. You were okay. He was okay. His father is dead and couldn't terrorize him anymore. Negan wasn't dead, but he was locked up and couldn't get out. Everything was starting to get better.

As he was being lulled into slumber, he let a confession fall from his lips, something he should've told you long ago:

“I love ya.”

You smiled softly down at him, pressing a soft kiss against his forehead. You had waited for a long time to hear those three important words from him. Deep down, you always knew Daryl loved you, but hearing it from the man himself finally confirmed it. Your heart swelled with love, and you couldn't believe how lucky you had gotten with this beautiful man.

“I love you more, Daryl Dixon.”

You didn't know whether he had heard you or not. Everything was silent after you had said that. The warm press of Daryl's body against yours and the reassuring rise and fall of his chest lulled you into sleep as well. However, right before darkness overtook you, you heard him mumbling one last thing.

“I love ya the most, sunshine.”

#krys writes .ೃ࿐#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd daryl #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon the walking dead #daryl #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #norman reedus #norman reedus x reader

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moonstruckme · 1 month

Note

Hey lovely! I saw you wanted some doctor rem requests, so I was wondering if you could possibly write something where the Remus wakes up in the middle of the night because the reader has a fever and is burning up right next to her, and he gets up and takes care of her, puts her in a cool bath to cool down and then reads to her to get her to sleep. Just a bunch of fluff haha 💕

Thank you for requesting my love !

cw: non-sexual nudity

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 834 words

It’s not uncommon for Remus to get too warm in the middle of the night. He’s always careful to flip just his part of the covers off, sticking an arm and a leg out without exposing you to the cool air. It is unusual for the heat not to be coming off of his own body.

Remus rolls over, feeling for you without opening his eyes. The temperature under the covers increases before he’s even touching you, emanating from your skin and heating the space around you. He opens his eyes.

You’re curled up tight, one hand trapped underneath your cheek, blankets pulled up to your chin like you’re chilled instead of burning. Your brow is puckered as though you’re concentrating hard on something in your unconscious, and you don’t rouse when the bed creaks as Remus gets up.

He plugs the drain in the tub and turns on the tap, feeling for the right temperature before leaving it to fill.

“Sweetheart.” It’s one part exhaustion and two parts love, sleep still clinging to the edges of his voice. You don’t stir in the slightest when Remus touches your shoulder, worrying in itself.

It takes a few gentle shakes to do it, and you’re none too happy to be woken. Remus can’t help his small smile at your sleepy frown.

“Your fever’s gotten worse,” he tells you, stroking the baby hairs at your temple. “I’m starting you a bath, okay?”

You close your eyes, reluctant. “Can it wait ‘til morning?”

Remus slips a hand beneath your shoulders and brushes his lips under your eye. “Afraid not, lovely girl. Do you need help getting up?”

He has to smother a grin when you react just as he predicted, grumbling and crawling out of bed. Still, you don’t reject the arm he wraps around your waist to guide you into the bathroom. Your skin is clammy under his hand, and you lean into his side like you weigh more than you did yesterday.

“Is your head still bothering you?” he asks while you strip out of your pajamas.

“A little,” you say, your words soft and stuck together by drowsiness. “Not as bad as yesterday. What time s’it?”

“It’s early yet.” Remus wraps his arms around your shoulders, kissing your nape as he encourages you closer to the tub. “We’ll go back to bed as soon as we get you cooled down. You can sleep in as late as you want.”

“You’ll make me think I’m dreaming,” you tease. But your smile vanishes as soon as you set a toe into the bathwater. “Rem, it’s cold.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He smiles, rueful, when you look betrayed. “Like I said, we’ve got to get your temperature down. Your body will adjust.”

“You’re supposed to be nice to me when I’m sick,” you mutter, but take the hand he offers you to step into the tub.

A couple of little shivers tremble through you. Remus stays, stroking the lines of your palm, until your taut muscles start to relax and you let your body unspool in the cool water. Then he goes to get you fever reducers.

He’s not gone long, but you look as though you’ve nearly fallen asleep again in his absence. You’re curled loosely on your side, one cheek resting on the porcelain lip of the tub with your hands folded under it. The arcs of your shoulders are shiny wet, and your lashes droop as if drawn towards their other halves by magnets.

When Remus sits on the bathmat, you raise your eyes up to his lazily. His reaction is predictable: fondness that sticks in the back of his throat and nestles into the space behind his sternum.

“Better now?” he asks, and his voice is soft for reasons he doesn’t entirely understand. It’s an instinct, as if to protect some precious part of you that might still be slumbering.

You hum. “A little.”

He holds up the water and tablets. “Think you can sit up to take these?”

Those pretty eyes roll skyward at the question, and you do, finishing the water without him needing to ask and murmuring a thanks when you’re done. Remus sets the empty cup on the floor. He dips a hand into the bathwater, cupping some and spilling it down your back. Not strictly necessary, perhaps, but it’s nice for him and you don’t seem to mind. Your eyes slip closed again. Remus follows the path of the water with his hand, coasting between your shoulder blades and down the curvature of your spine. Your skin is still warm to the touch, but he thinks there’s been some improvement.

“Don’t fall asleep here,” he murmurs. Your eyes peel open again. “I’m just giving it a few minutes before I check your fever, and then we can go back to bed.”

“I’m gonna sleep all tomorrow,” you sigh.

He smiles. “If that’s what you want.”

You hum satisfiedly. “Will you sleep in with me? Please?”

Remus huffs a laugh. “Sure, sweetheart. Twist my arm.”

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smutallyouwant · 2 months

Text

Twice Fic World ch. 2.5

I Got You, Boss

🎱 Part 1

I got busy, but here's the first part of the sequel of Strawberry Picking 🍓<3.

Mina x Male Reader

Word count: approx. 800 words

Summary: A quick warmup before the presentation.

The time has come, it's Monday and today is your presentation in front the higher-ups of your company. You're excited and nervous at the same time. You went to work early because you and your boss will hit the road at exactly 8 am. You arrived at 6:45 am and you went to the roof top to have a smoke. Smoking clears your mind and also makes you relax. You held into the rails and a familiar voice called out your name.

" Y/N "

You looked and Mina approached you with a peace sign pose

" What the heck, why are you so early? "

" I heard that you smoke here every morning whenever you have quite a work load. I knew you'll go here early because it's your presentation today " Mina answered.

" You're amazingly thoughtful " you giggled and continued smoking.

" You know smoking kills you, right? "

" Yes I know, will you make me stop? "

" Of course not, but I will help you relax " Mina answered before kneeling.

Mina looked into your eyes whilst removing your belt.

" Hey Mina someone might see us, someone can just bust out the door " you whispered.

" No, I locked it "

" I checked view earlier, no one can see us down there in this angle " she added.

You're turned on already due to her hot outfit. You palmed her cheeks and gently rubbed it with your back hand. Mina looked at you seductively. It's abvious that she's wet and horny right now. She keeps on looking towards you while licking your dick.

" You remembered when you fucked my throat last time, Y/N? " she asked with a frown before putting your dick inside her mouth.

She sucks it while maintaining eye contact with you. She gently sucked your shaft in a slow pace. You cupped her cheeks as you find her so cute in that position while giving you a head. You're very surprised on how she's doing a fellatio, you can feel her tongue circling and playing the head of your dick while sucking it at the same time. The pleasure is immense, her slow pace causes you to feel her blowjob much better. Her tounge makes your dick tingly, her sucking and her lips then gives you that nice pleasure.

She finally popped your dick and started stroking it with her silky smooth hands. The combination of the pre-cum and her saliva makes a perfect lubricant. You grabbed her face and started making out with her while she strokes your dick.

~~ahh

~~mmmhhh

~~slurpss

Moans escapes both of your mouth while enjoying the make out. You are leaning on the terrace grills, your left hand is palmed and rubbing her face and the other is wrapped around her waist. You're pulling her closer as you sucks her tongue and clips her lips with yours while her left hand stokes your dick, her other hand is simply wrapped on your neck.

You slowly pushed her to the door of the rooftop entrance, all while you're still kissing. You pushed her against the thick door and you held her neck. You kissed her neck and shoulders, her arms hugged your head and your other arm is groping her boobs.

" ~~ ahh baby, I've been waiting for this " she said under her moans.

" Me too, I'm so hungry for you " you said before giving her a final deep kiss.

You broke the kiss and you turned her around, revealing her back. You licked her back and you gently pulled her dress up so you can remove her shorts and underwear.

~~ mmhhh ~~ahh

She moaned.

You aligned your dick to her pussy and slowly pressed it inside.

" ~~ ahhh, yes babyy fuck me, fuck me " she said while moaning.

You started fucking her, she arced her back and her head is pressed into the door. You're holding her waist while giving all your strength in every thrust of your dick. Mina kept moaning every thrust.

~~ ahhh!!

~~ mhhh, fuck me more baby!

" Y/N can you pull my hair? " she said while smiling seductively.

You're shocked on how bold Mina was. But nothing's going inside of your head right now except that you're fucking a goddess while completely witnessing her sexy arced body and bottle-like shape. You pulled her hair and her moans becomes more bold.

~~~ahhhhaaahhh yesss!

" You're so horny, Mina "

" Are you happy? That you can now moan this wildly because of my dick? Your girlfriend can't do this to you so you can't show your true nature right, Mina? " You said while ramming her.

" Don't say that, Y/N ~~ahh "

You put your head beside hers.

" No, you're my slut now. Tell me the truth if you want me to fuck you like this everytime " you whispered into her ear.

" ~~mhhh, yes babyy. I'm your slut. Chaeyoung can't fuck me like this so please fuck me everytime you want " she seductively said.

You pulled her hair to your head, she released a wild moan and grinned her teeth while you're ramming her pussy.

" I've been fucking you for few minutes now, where do you want this load, slut? "

" I don't have a tissue with me baby, please tell me if you're cumming and I will suck that dick clean ~mmhgg " she said before biting her lower lip.

" ~~ ahh I'm cumming baby " you said before letting go of her waist.

Mina quickly puts her mouth into your dick and sucked it. You grabbed her hair and fucked her mouth, your dick reach her throat and you continued ramming her throat. Mina is pretty used to it now and she holds your leg while looking into your eye. After few thrusts you shoots your cum into her throat and you feel her fingers clenching your leg muscles. You pushed her head into your dick so hard while it still spits your cum. Mina's eyes rolled as she choke in her own salivas. After you withdrawn your dick she fell into her knees and gasped for air, she coughed heavily as she chokes. She is holding her neck and her eyeliner is a mess.

" Are you okay Mina? "

You asked before you sat in front of her while she is still gasping her air. She is not answering but she laid her arms into your shoulders.

" You okay, Mina ? " You asked again in a comforting voice.

Mina slowly lifts her head and she opened her mouth infront of you revealing her tongue. She shows how she swallowed your cum and nothing is left, all while smiling. You're turned on again and your dick became hard again. You sucked her tongue and makes out with her.

" I'm horny again, Mina " you said.

" Follow me " she replied.

She pulled you into the women's restroom, she pulls out a toothbrush from her pouch and she removed her underwear and raised her dress. She lets you fuck her while brushing her teeth infront of the mirror and on top of that she lets you record how you fuck her. In her defense she want you to watch that if you became horny when she's not around. She let you cum inside this time. Before leaving you kissed her and she sprayed her perfume into your suit.

" Goodbye, Y/N ! Goodluck in your presentation " she said with a gummy smile.

- To be continued

#mina x reader #twice mina #twice imagines #twice smut #twice x reader

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theywhowriteandknowthings · 2 months

Text

Sick

Joel Miller x Reader Warnings: Reader is sick, pill taking, food mention (brief), trouble sleeping. A/N: I just wrote this because I'm currently sick AF and would like Joel Miller to look after me pls n thank. It's mostly just fluff tbh. No use of Y/N, no race or gender coding, reader is pretty much a blank slate. 700~ Words | [AO3]

You groan as you stir awake for the hundredth time tonight, pain arcing behind your eyelids as you struggle to rouse yourself. You’re freezing cold despite the warm body pressed to your back. You desperately pull the covers around you as you try and fight the chill that wracks through your body.

“Hey?” Joel whispers in your ear as you feel him pull you to him, his thin scruff scraping along the plane of your shoulder, “You ok darlin’?”

You curse yourself inwardly at the soft voice in your ear. The thickness in his voice sends a pleasant shiver through you as you wrap your arms around his strong forearm as it holds you firm against him.

“No,” you whimper feebly as you hear the cloying distortion to your voice, even with just one syllable it’s obvious you’re sick. You’d been feeling under the weather all week, but it seems it’s finally caught up to you. On a Saturday no less.

“Shh,” Joel hushes you softly as he wriggles his other arm free, you feel his strong palm press against your forehead from behind as he shifts up on the pillows behind you, “Shit, you’re burning up.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you grumble as you let out a hacking cough as your chest burns.

“Stay here,” he says softly as he places a gentle kiss to your temple.

You whine as he slides out of bed before tucking the covers around you tightly. You grunt helplessly as he shuts the door behind him, missing his body heat already as you burrow down into the sheets. Your eyes flutter shut and your brow furrows at the pain in your skull, amplified only by the way your rattling cough seems to jostle your head.

It could have been minutes, or hours, but when Joel comes back you smile feebly up at him from the cocoon you have crafted around you. He’s a vision of tan skin and grey boxer briefs as he carries in a tray with water, cold medicine, and a few bags of your favourite snacks.

“Poor baby,” Joel coos softly as he sets down the tray on the nightstand, “Can you sit up for me?”

“Sure,” you say meekly as you shuffle yourself up into a seating position, “Thank you.”

“Don’t need to thank me,” he says as he smiles fondly at you, “But you do need to take your medicine,” he frowns playfully at you as he wags a finger in your direction. Your heart swells as you look up into his deep brown eyes as he looks you over. Worry forms in the crow’s feet around his eyes and the semi-permanent crease in his brow. Your stomach flutters and you can’t help but smile.

“Ah shit,” you groan as you realise what day it is, “The party at Maria and Tommy’s.”

“Don’t fret, I’ve already called Tommy,” Joel says as he hands you a couple of cold and flu tablets and a glass of water, “Poor bastard wasn’t even awake yet, I forgot to check the time before I called.”

Once you’ve got a secure hold on the medication and water Joel sits on the edge of the bed before dropping a broad hand to your knee. He rubs soothingly up your thigh as he watches you intently. You sigh peacefully at the ministrations of his hand as you gulp down the water and tablets.

“What time is it?” You ask as your head spins, you relax immediately as you feel Joel slide into bed beside you, sitting up as he pulls you back against his chest. You lay there, head lolled back on his shoulder as you close your eyes.

“Early,” he hums as he gently lays down, pulling you with him, “But don’t worry about that now, get some rest, I’m right here.”

“Ok,” you sigh as another cough rocks your body, prompting Joel to hold you tight against his chest.

“Love you darlin’, get some sleep.”

“Love you too,” you mutter as the lure of unconsciousness becomes too hard to ignore.

You’re not sure if it’s the cold medicine, or the way that Joel nuzzles into the crook of your neck, but you finally feel a little relief as you let out a shuddering sigh before falling into a deep sleep.

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siren-serenity · 4 months

Text

i just wanna kiss you

characters: roronoa zoro, gn!reader (nami, luffy, usopp, sanji included!!! straw hat crew for life!! :D) warnings: fluff, takes place in east blue arc, drunk kiss (consensual) a/n: - feedback is appreciated!

"Y/N!"

You heard your name being yelled out in a drunken slur. Popping your head out the window, you watched with amusement as Nami attempted to drag a stumbling Usopp and Zoro back onto the Going Merry. Usopp's limbs were tripping over one another while Zoro kept attempting to get out of her iron grip.

"Gonna help me or what?" Nami raised an eyebrow upon noticing you. You shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

"I don't know, looks like you got everything under control."

"Y/NNNNN!" Luffy giggled, stretching his arms inhumanly long and then rocketed himself into your open arms. You let out a grunt, stumbling backward as your arms wrapped around Luffy's body. His body was strangely smooth, not that you expected less given that your captain was a literally a rubber man. He broke you out of your rambling thoughts by rubbing his cheek against yours. "Zoro and Usopp are superrrrr drunk!"

"Am not!" Usopp interjected before tripping over his feet and falling flat on his face. He let out a painful groan, causing Luffy to leap off you and help him up. "Shishishi, yes you are!"

"Y/N," A low murmur of your name made you spin around. Low and behold, Zoro stood before you, a deep, dark red blush on his tanned cheeks. His arms stretched forward and you obliged, tugging him into a hug. His well-built chest collided with yours and he placed his head in the crook of your collarbone, breathing slowly. Your vision was covered by his bright green hair, spiky up in a messy fashion.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek. "Hey, love. Drank a bit too much?"

"Mmph," He grunted, protesting against your words. "It's nothing. Like usual. The usual amount."

Nami scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "Usual? If I recall correctly, you challenged Usopp to a drinking competition."

"Yeah, and I won," To spite her even further, Zoro gave her a glare before it was covered up by his yawn. "Beat that, Usopp."

"Usopp can't even say a single word, you stupid moss head," Sanji rolled his eyes, a hand helping Usopp up before slinging it over his shoulders. With a wave to everyone else and a 'Goodnight, especially to you, my dear Nami!', Sanji disappeared around the corner of the Going Merry with a stumbling Usopp in tow.

Luffy laughed, waving enthusiastically.

"It's bedtime! Night, everyone!!" He grinned, skipping away. Nami followed him, sighing heavily and murmuring 'At least they're all in one piece and alive...'

Zoro's chilly hands dragged themselves up and down your bare side leisurely. It left frigid trails in its wake and you shivered.

"Love, you're freezing!" You frowned, placing a hand on his cheeks. Zoro's eyes were half-lidded and he only sleepily nuzzled himself into your hand. "Let's go in."

"No."

Raising an eyebrow, you stared him down. "You're freezing, and you don't want to go in."

"No..." He grumbled, pulling back to stare you in the eye. "I just want..."

"Want what?"

A rare blush crawled onto his face. You let out a tiny chuckle, enjoying moments like this when Zoro was emotionally vunerable.

His hands trailed to your back and secured themselves there, barely brushing the waistband of your shorts. His fingers were cold, frigid to the touch yet they left a blaze of heat against your skin.

"Mhmm...I just want to..." Zoro's eyes were half-lidded but clouded over with a haze of love. Despite the cool ocean breeze, a blush burned onto your cheeks. "May I kiss you?"

Your hand cradled his chin, brushing a thumb against his lower lip. He swallowed audibly. "You never need to ask, my love."

"The idiot cook told me consent was important," He shrugged and before a second had passed, he tugged you closer, smashing your lips together. Your hands hung loosely around his neck and your steps shuffled backward before your back bumped against the railings of the Going Merry. Zoro braced his hands on your hips, gripping them to the point that you know that bruises would form tomorrow.

(He would smile the next morning, laying on his back lazily but with a satisfied grin on his face as he admired the numerous bruises left on your body. Bruises that complimented and matched the ones you left on him. He was yours and you were his.)

"Zoro..." You breathed out breathlessly when he pulled back for oxygen. He panted, heaving his chest up and down. You resisted the urge to run your hands all over his muscular chest and those pecs..."That was-"

Zoro licked his lips, grinning.

"Want more?"

You tugged his open collar and jerked him closer to you. With centimeters just between your lips, you smirked. The swordsman's smile slowly crept into a more mischevious one, matching yours.

"Hell yeah."

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

Text

Ni Ceta, Cyar'ika

Dark!Din Djarin x Jedi!Female Reader

Warnings: corruption arc, murder, death of minor character (i don't wanna spoil it but I wanna make sure no one is caught off guard. it's axe woves), possessive behavior, loss and anxiety, light smut, mentions of being intimate

Word Count: 7,842

Summary: Din Djarin is a man who lost everything. His home, his son, his Creed. But at the end of the day, he still had you. He still had you, and he was determined to keep you.

[a/n: if dark fics aren't your forte, don't worry this isn't super dark. well, not as dark as i originally planned to go. more psychological horror than physical]

"i denied death for you. and i'd die for you again. kill for you. i'd tear the stars down from the heavens to fashion you a crown. you are my heart. my queen. i'd do anything and everything you ask me."

-Jay Kristoff

Looking back, you had no chance of not falling in love with Din Djarin. Even despite having plenty of reasons not to. You were on the run from the Empire, trying to keep a padawan safe from them. He was hired to collect said padawan as a bounty. He was a Mandalorian. You were a Jedi. Needless to say, the odds had been stacked against you both, but falling for him was the simplest thing in all the worlds.

You had a lot of reason not to, sure, but you also had no chance in avoiding it. Not with the way he put you and Grogu above everything else⏤ even himself. Not with the way he balanced trusting you to hold your own in a fight versus protecting you when you were overwhelmed. Not with the way his hand would softly brush against you as if he wanted so badly to touch you but thought himself unworthy. Not with the way his hoarse voice whispered your name in the softest concern and care.

Never before had you put any belief in the concept of soulmates, it seemed silly, but after meeting Din you weren’t so sure. The two of you seemed made to fit one another. Complement. Make the other stronger, better. The way you both understood one another, the care and love that came so easily… It was as if you loved him in another life. Like the two of you were destined to find one another in every lifetime. Made of the same stardust and shaped by the galaxy itself.

You loved Din Djarin. You loved him so damn much, and it made watching him crumble that much harder.

“Din.” You mumbled. Boba had swooped back to pick the lot of you up after the successful rescue mission. Though calling it successful seemed…bittersweet. Grogu was safe, but Grogu was gone. You wandered closer to where Din sat in a chair. He had isolated himself the moment you all boarded the ship. He was slumped over, elbows on his knees, and head hanging down. You knelt down by his side and squeezed his arm. “Hey. I wanted to check on you.” Din nodded, but stayed silent. His helmet stayed facing down, away from you, and it broke your heart to see him so devastated. “Tell me what you need, baby. I can stay or I can give you some space.”

Again, Din did not respond, but he turned his arm just enough to grasp you by the hand. You gave it a slight squeeze and just stayed there. For the rest of the flight neither of you moved. You knew Din felt like he couldn't complain. Grogu was safe with Skywalker, set to train and harness his gifts. Softly, you reassured him that whatever he was feeling was alright. He stayed silent.

Boba and Fennec’s goal was to reach Tatooine so you and Din tagged along. It wasn’t far. You all got there in a matter of hours and when you parted ways, Boba encouraged you or Din to call him if anything was ever needed. It didn’t take long for you to get a room at an inn.

That night in bed you held Din close. The room had been darkened so even if you did open your eyes all you could see was his silhouette. He loved you with soft touches and thankful whispers, and when the both of you were spent and exhausted Din collapsed into you. Typically, he liked being the big spoon. Din loved wrapping his body around yours, all encompassing, as if he needed to protect you even in sleep. However, tonight, Din clung to your side⏤ an arm draped over your waist as he laid his head on your bare chest. You held him close, raking a hand through his hair tenderly.

The room was filled with quiet breaths, and when Din spoke his voice was so hushed that you nearly missed it.

“Don’t leave me, cyar'ika.” He seemed to beg. “I can’t lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You said firmly. Holding onto him tighter. You continued to whisper promises of staying by his side long after he fell asleep.

Din wanted to find the covert. That was what he told you he needed. You had no qualms with that. You wanted to do whatever you had to in order to help him find some semblance of normal. Coruscant was not one of your favorite places in the galaxy, but you’d walk through hell as long as Din was by your side. As you followed him, his eyes tracking signs and clues you couldn’t see, your own gaze continued to drift to the saber hanging from Din’s belt. His newest acquisition.

Ages ago, when it had been time to build your own lightsaber, the kyber crystal you chose had really chosen you. Everybody had certain strengths, even within the Force, and yours was reading energies. Your kyber crystal seemed to sing to you. The energy it gave was warmth. It was protective. It was loyal. Building your lightsaber had been a time honored tradition you treasured. Having it hang from your hip was something you did not take lightly. It gave you strength.

The energy coming from the darksaber felt…wrong. It was hard to put into words. It was muted to you, as if trying to hide, but still the darksaber seemed to weep a negative energy into the air itself. You didn’t like it, but you had no significant reasoning why other than ‘it feels bad’.

When the two of you reached the covert, Din was adamant about you coming in with him. Even when you told him you thought it was a bad idea, he still tangled his hand in yours and dragged you in. Just as you thought the other two Mandalorians there were unhappy with seeing you. In part because of the lightsaber on your hip, but more so because you were not their kind. You were not Mandalorian. Auretii. That’s what the Armorer called you. An outsider. It wasn’t inaccurate.

The interaction started bad and only got worse.

Paz Vizsla challenged Din for the darksaber, a man you knew that Din considered to be a brother even despite rough disagreements in the past, and watching Din use the saber sent a chill down your spine. It was too heavy in his hands, and with every swing the blade was more difficult for Din to use. You could see it in his stride. You didn’t know how to explain it⏤ it was always difficult to explain the way an energy felt to you⏤ but the saber was fighting. It was annoyed.

Din won the battle.

“Din Djarin, have you ever removed your helmet?” The silence that followed the question broke your heart. “Have you ever removed your helmet?” You felt useless watching Din endure this pain. It was the same watching Skywalker carry Grogu away. You were a witness to his suffering. “By Creed, you must vow.”

“I have.”

“Then, you are a Mandalorian no more.”

The walk back into the depths of Coruscant was silent and painful. You slipped your hand into his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I’m here. I’m not leaving. You will not lose me. Din returned the squeeze, but the pain was radiating off him in palpable waves. A feeling washed over you and your eyes darted to Din’s hip where the saber rested. Smug. It felt smug.

The two of you walked into the covert as Mandalorian and Jedi, but left as Apostate and Aruetti.

You had the opinion that Din never got to properly mourn the loss of the Razor Crest. With everything going on at the time, it seemed like the least of the problems you both had. However, it's loss was felt now. Even in the short time you spent with Din and Grogu, the ship had become a place of comfort. For Din, the Crest had been all he had for so long⏤ it was his home. It held all his belongings and in a singular second it was all gone.

That aching wound was constantly festering, but when the two of you were forced to ride in public ships to get from world to world you could tell it stung Din the most. That’s how you’d have to get off Coruscant, but a small victory came in the form of a message from Peli.

“Din, you’re not gonna believe this.” You grinned as he returned from whatever errand he had to do. “Peli has a possible Razor Crest replacement. She just messaged me. If we can just get to⏤”

“No.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but Din took you by the hand and began to travel the opposite way of the small inn you were staying in. “What?”

“I found a ship. Here. Already purchased it.”

Surprise washed over you. “Wait.” You tried to get him to stop and look at you, but Din seemed like a man on a mission. “You bought it already? Without even asking me?”

“It was my credits.”

The words stung. It was so dismissive. Nothing like the way Din usually spoke to you. He always discussed big decisions with you, just as you did with him. The two of you were a team. Through and through. Din seemed to sense your displeasure and his steps faltered.

“Cyar'ika, ni ceta.” Din murmured. You recognized the apology. He turned and settled a hand on the side of your face. “I…I don’t know what came over me. I suppose I was just excited.”

“It’s…” You lifted a hand to cup the one tenderly caressing your cheek. Din had just lost his Creed. The cornerstone of his existence. Of course, he’d be short. You’d be more worried if he wasn’t showing signs of being upset. You gave him a tight lipped smile. “No, I’m sorry. Are you alright? How do you feel?” Din didn’t respond. “Baby?”

He shook his head, his voice quiet. “I’m just ready to be off world.”

“I understand.” You gave him a smile. “Show us our new home then.”

Din let out a small chuckle and you took that as a victory. He led you to a yard of ships and pointed out a black ship with burgundy accents. It was nothing special. It wasn’t the Razor Crest. However, it had enough space for the both of you.

“This is nice.” You explored the cargo hold.

“It’ll do.” Din countered.

You jumped when you heard the ramp closing and as Din passed you to get to the cockpit, he set his hand on your lower back to take you with him. As you settled in the passenger seat, you watched as Din familiarized himself with the control panel. When the ship reached the atmosphere, you leaned forward.

“Hey, maybe we should go see Peli anyways. Say hello.” You suggested. “She can look the ship over and tell us if we need anything…” Peli would just rip you off, but she was a familiar face. Boba and Fennec were on Tatooine as well. You thought Din could use more than just you. A reminder that he had more in his life than he thought. “Din?”

“No.” Din replied. He placed in a set of coordinates and you recognized them to be Nevarro. Well, maybe that would work. Karga was there. Cara too. Last you heard, Mayfeld was kicking around the newest establishment. The ship slipped into hyperspace and Din held a hand out to you. When you took it he yanked you toward him and you fell onto his lap. “We’re needed in Nevarro. Karga.”

He said it as if the name was enough. Before you could ask for further clarification, Din was tossing his gloves aside. He hit a button that shaded the windows, dimming the room till it was nearly impossible to see then he whispered to close your eyes. It was natural for you to do just as he asked. His hands grasped at your hips, pulling you down to grind against your core, and a pair of lips began to leave open mouth kisses along your neck.

“Cyar'ika…” Din breathed as he wrestled your shirt off you. Rough and desperate. Yanking your breast band off with it. The moment you were bare to the chilly air of the cockpit, Din’s hot mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, teeth grazing sensitive skin, and you moaned. Din pulled away and you already missed his mouth. “Need you. Need all of you.”

Din loved you with rough hands and frantic begging. When the two of you were spent, breathless and sweaty, you slumped against his body. Din trailed his hands up and down your spine as if he couldn’t fathom not touching you.

“I can’t lose you.” He murmured in your ear. “Not you, cyar'ika.”

“You won’t.” You reassured him. “You won’t lose me.”

The reason Din stopped in Nevarro, stopped to see Karga, was for bounty pucks. You had never seen him take so many at once and he said less than ten words to the High Magistrate of Nevarro before dragging you back to the ship.

A distraction. You convinced yourself. It was just a distraction.

Din needed something to keep his mind busy and what better than bounty hunting? As long as you were there to keep an eye on him, make sure he’s cared for, then everything would be alright. It might take time, but it would be okay. That’s what you told yourself. Over and over and over. You wondered if the reassurance was more for your benefit.

The first couple of bounties went normal, but slowly things began to feel…different. Wrong. The quarries Din brought in were more often cold than warm these days. He seemed to be favoring the darksaber as well. It had gone from a weapon used as a last resort to one of his regulars. Din got better with the weapon after every quarry, and the saber’s energy felt like it was singing. As wrong as it all felt, Din seemed himself still. In fact, he almost seemed closer to his normal self. The aching sadness and mourning wasn’t so present.

“Din?” You called out from where you sat at the small table. Rather than staying on the new ship, the two of you had rented a room at a local inn. It put you closer to where the current quarry was hiding. “You in the mood for something specific? For dinner, I mean?” Din had stepped into the bathroom to clean up and still had yet to come out. “Baby?”

Concern began to take root, but the door opened and you felt it slip away only to be replaced by shock. A stranger in familiar armor stood in the doorway. Din. Din was helmetless. You quickly shut your eyes with a curse. Heavy footfalls crossed the room to stand in front of you and you felt Din’s warm hands on your cheeks.

“Cyar'ika, look at me.”

“Din, what are you doing?” You gasped. It had been nearly two months since the covert, but even then he kept his helmet on. Never took it off. You didn’t understand what had suddenly changed now so suddenly. “I⏤”

“I want you to see me.”

“But⏤ But, why now?”

Din’s thumbs were tracing your cheek and he wouldn’t answer your question. He murmured again for you to open your eyes and you hesitantly peeked through your lashes. Din stood towering above you. From where you sat, you had to look up to admire his features. His appearance was never important to you. You fell in love with the soul inside that armor. Din always swore you’d see his face one day, but the context would be different. He’d whisper about a future together as you both laid tangled in bed.

He was handsome. Strong features, pretty dark brown eyes, scruff along his jaw. And his hair, you were finally able to see the dark slightly loose curls that you’d run your fingers through. You slowly stood and lifted a hand to trace his features.

“Am… Am I okay?” Din asked.

The phrasing of the question was odd and it took you a moment to garner a guess. You cupped his face with a broad smile. “You’re more than okay. You’re perfect. Maker, it’s kind of not fair how handsome you are.” You kept your tone teasing and Din chuckled. The sight of his smile warmed your chest. “What brought this on?”

“I am an Apostate.” Din said firmly and you felt your own smile falter. His dark brown eyes stayed locked onto yours and though they held the depth and soul you always knew they would there was something else there. “I am no longer Mandalorian. Why should I hide my face any longer?”

“Din…” You mumbled. Concern leaking into your voice. This was quite the huge and sudden leap to make. “You⏤”

He leaned in and pressed a light kiss against your lips. The kiss turned deeper as Din began to devour you. Needy and wanting. Desperate. Soon he had you picked up into his arms so he could slam you against the wall. It always felt like Din craved you⏤ that wasn’t in debate. Right now though, he was like a man starved. As if he had never had never had you before and was worried he’d never have you again.

Din loved you like a man possessed. Pressed between him and the wall he was unrelenting. Still, held tight by the man you were in love with, Din moaned and begged for you to stay with him. He didn’t even pause to let you reassure him. Just praised the way you felt and pleaded for you to be his.

There was something wrong with Din.

As you sat in the dingy alley, panting heavily from your near death experience, that was the first thought to occur to you. A hunt had gone wrong. One of the quarry’s allies had gotten the jump on you. You had taken a few hits, saw an opening to save yourself, but before you even had a chance the goon was being ripped off of you. Din had saved you, but it didn’t feel like being saved from where you sat.

Din had ripped the man off you and rather than use the darksaber he chose to beat the goon bloody with his hands. Blood splattered in the alley, on his otherwise spotless armor, and you found yourself trembling. The man who had been attacking you was long dead, but Din did not stop. His face was twisted in rage and hate. You called out his name, more than once, and eventually he paused in his onslaught to catch his breath. His chest was heaving from exertion and you could tear your eyes away from the red that stained his silver beskar.

Slowly, Din rose and stalked toward you. For a brief moment, you didn’t recognize Din. You didn’t know the stranger towering over you. He knelt down and reached out to cup the side of your face. The hot blood of the man Din had slaughtered smeared across your cheek. You could feel it and it sent a chill of fear down your spine. The hate began to dissipate from his eyes. There was a softness you recognized now, but for the first time you’d describe Din as hollow.

“Are you okay, cyar'ika?” He breathed. You nodded nervously. Din grabbed you by the arms and pulled you to stand. He let out a sigh of relief and wrapped you into a tight hug. He pressed you against his blood stained armor and laid his head on top of yours. Din shook his head, a shaky breath slipping from his lips, “I won’t lose you. I can’t lose you. No one will take you from me. I swear it, cyar'ika.”

Relief and love radiated from Din, but all you could feel was the humming possessive energy that the darksaber blasted into the air around you both.

The sensation of dropping out of hyperspace woke you up. You blinked and reached out to a cold bed. Din had gotten up and was now dropping you out of hyperspace? You pushed up and slid out of bed. You found Din in the cockpit and the sight of an unfamiliar world hung in view just outside the ship.

“Where are we?”

“Mandalore.”

You sat down in the passenger seat and grabbed Din by the knee forcing him to set the ship to drift and turn to face you. “What the kriff do you mean Mandalore?” Din didn’t respond. He leaned back in his seat and just stared at you. You were still trying to get used to seeing him without his helmet. Din rarely wore it these days. Even in a fight. “Din.”

“We’re meeting allies here.”

“For what?!”

“We’re recovering our home.”

Din was answering the questions as if you were being ridiculous for even asking them. As if you had been privy to this knowledge. Frustration made your temper flare. “Din, are you serious!?” He didn’t react and somehow that was worse. “We need to talk.”

“Then talk.”

Things had only gotten worse with Din. You were scared of what he was capable, but never in relation to you. No matter how cold his eyes grew, no matter how lost in got in a brutal fight, no matter how bitter the darksaber made the air, you knew Din wouldn’t hurt you. That knowledge was ingrained in your very soul. What worried you⏤ what kept you awake at night⏤ was your worry for Din. He always said he couldn’t lose you, but it felt like you were the one losing him.

“Baby.” You murmured and rose to take a seat in his lap innocently. Just trying to get closer to him. You cupped his face and at your contact the cold, distant look in his eyes briefly cracked. Din stared up at you in adoration and love. “I’m… I’m scared.”

Din furrowed his brow and sat up. His arms wrapped around your waist. “Don’t be. You never have to be scared. I’m never going to let anything hurt you.”

“No, Din, that’s not what I’m scared of.” You replied. “I’m scared for you. I’m worried about you.”

“I’ve never been better, cyar’ika.”

You raked a hand through his hair trying to convey every ounce of passion you felt for him in the simple motion. “Din… I’ve been wanting to say this for some time.” You shook your head. “The darksaber.” There was a flash of something unrecognizable in his gaze, but you pressed onward. “It’s… dangerous. You know when I told you about my lightsaber. It’s energy.” He nodded. “The darksaber gives off an energy too, and I don’t like it.”

“What do you mean?” Din asked.

“It feels like,” You winced and struggled for a description to match, “poison. Din, baby, it feels like poison.” Din shook his head as if he still could not understand what it was you were trying to say. “I think it’s a bad influence.”

Din scoffed but the curl of his lips made it seem like he wasn’t taking your statement seriously. “Cyar’ika, it’s a sword. It can’t influence me.”

“It’s not just a sword, Din. It has a kyber crystal in it and⏤”

“Are you trying to tell me I need to get rid of it?” He pressed. You gave a small nod. “I can’t. I need it.” You opened your mouth to argue, but his arms tightened around you. “If we’re going to take Mandalore back, recover it, then I have to use the darksaber. Be Mandalor.”

Your eyes widened. “Since when did you want that title??”

“But more importantly, I need it to protect you.” He whispered, ignoring your question entirely. Din leaned his forehead against yours and the touch was so soft and reverent that you shuddered. He took in a slow deep breath. “You are my priority. Always. The darksaber grants me the power to keep you safe.”

You pressed a tender kiss to his lips and Din’s breath hitched. As you spoke, you kept your lips close enough to brush against his with every word. “You never needed it before. And I’m not helpless. You know that.” Din closed his eyes and you dragged your fingers through his scruff. “We were fine without the darksaber. We don’t need it.”

Din leaned in to capture your lips with his. For the first time in a very long time, the kiss was slow and patient. He took his time tasting you and he leaned back to allow your hands to travel and explore him. It was so reminiscent of the days before everything fell apart that you almost cried.

Eventually, he pulled back and focused his heavy gaze on you. Din gave you a small smile, a hand tracing your jawline. “No, cyar’ika. The saber stays.” Your own smile faltered and fell. He left one last chaste kiss on your lips. “I love you. I will protect you.”

Your life on Mandalore was odd. Din left you out of the loop of everything. All you knew was that more and more Mandalorians arrived by the day to follow Din Djarin. It didn’t surprise you. The Din you knew and loved was a natural born leader whether he liked it or not. He had a magnetic draw to him. You didn’t see that side to your Din very much anymore.

The city around you was slowly being rebuilt and you pondered your next move. Two months you had been on this rock seeing Din from a distance. Watching him turn into someone you didn’t recognize. When the palace was reestablished, a sentence you found obnoxious and ridiculous, Din moved you there to stay. He’d work all day, drift into your shared bedroom at night, and you mourned the days where everything was easier. Simple.

“Cyar’ika.”

You glanced over your shoulder to see the Mandalor approaching. The king of this world looked like Din, still stared at you as if you hung the moon and stars, but all you could see was the darksaber. It’s possessive energy clung to the man you loved. Two Mandalorian guards followed behind him, and you briefly admired the thick, fur lined cape that hung off one shoulder.

Din came to a stop in front of you and motioned to himself with a sheepish smile, “What do you think?”

“Very regal, Mandalor.” You teased softly.

Din drifted closer and took your hands in his. “Ni ceta, cyar’ika.” He mumbled. “I know I haven’t been around.”

“You’ve been busy. I get it.” You shrugged and tried to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

“But you come first. You always come first.” Din said firmly. “Things will be better from here on out. We’re stable. We’re established. And… I have a surprise for you.” Nervously, Din lifted your hands to tenderly press a kiss to them. “I have no right to ask, but will you give me your time today.”

It was so sweet. It was so Din. You were too overwhelmed to do anything but nod. Things could always turn around, you told yourself. All your time here, distanced from Din, you had planned. He needed a little exposure to his old life. You were the only person Din kept. Maybe seeing Boba and Fennec, seeing Peli, seeing Karga, seeing anyone would bring him back to the surface more permanently. You had even wanted to get in touch with Skywalker or Ahsoka to plan some kind of visit. If Din could see Grogu, you had no doubt he’d snap back into reality. He’d set aside the darksaber. The issue was, Mandalore still had thick storm clouds that prevented any outside interference or messaging.

You felt isolated.

Din looped your arm through his and you walked by his side down the long hallway. You weren’t sure where he was taking you quite yet, but he spoke casually about his day and asked about yours with real interest. His smile was so warm and sincere that you could almost ignore the negative energy that damned saber gave off.

“Where are we going?” You asked as Din turned down a hall you knew would lead outside. “If we go out, I’m gonna need to grab my jacket.” Mandalore’s seasons still confused you and it almost seemed like the previous attacks had thrown the natural order out of balance. Lately, it had been rather cold.

“It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if I told you.” Din chuckled. He paused by the doors and you couldn’t help but glance at the two silent Mandalorian guards still standing near. Movement made you glance back in time to see he had shrugged out of his thick robe. Din settled the heavy article on your shoulders and you were surprised by the warmth it encased you in. “Comfortable?”

You nodded with a small smile. The robe smelled like him. Din captured your face in his gloved hands and you gazed up at him in awe. Din was in a good mood. It had been so long since you saw him like this. Light hearted. Excited. “Are you happy?” The question fell from your lips before you could even think.

“Of course.” Din replied quickly. His tone suggested he was surprised you’d ask. “I have you.”

“You’ve always had me.” You mumbled.

Din’s face faltered, only for a second, before he bowed his head to rest on yours. Forehead to forehead. “Ni ceta.” He breathed the apology out sincerely. “I know things have been hard and…you’ve put up with so much. I’m so thankful for you, cyar’ika, and my greatest regret will always be making you question that.”

“I never questioned it.” You lifted a hand to place on top of his own. “I love you, and I know you love me. I’ve just…been worried about you, baby. I want you to be happy.”

“I am.” Din replied. “You make me happy.” He closed the space to press his lips to yours. Tender. Loving. Passionate. Din’s tongue traced the curve of your lower lip and you allowed him to deepen the kiss. Your hands shifted to tangle in his hair. Din pulled you closer, flush against his body, and it didn’t even matter to you that two other Mandalorians stood off to the side as witness to this scene. Din pulled back, separating the two of you, but he quickly set two more chaste kisses against your lips as if he couldn't bear the thought of being apart. Din whispered a promise under his breath. “For the rest of my life, I will make you happy. I’ll keep you safe.”

You had endured the hell of watching Din suffer and begin to lose himself in sorrow. Perhaps, this was the light at the end of the tunnel. Din had found stable ground, and he was now returning to a man you recognized.

Din turned away to push open the doors, but he kept your arm looped through his. The courtyard which typically sat unused and in a semi state of shambles had been cleaned and polished. Mandalorians as far as you could see stood waiting and as Din walked you down the path you spotted a medium sized platform, nearly a stage, and on it was a chair⏤ no, a throne. That was the only word to describe the heavy, dark metal seat. Standing on the platform, you recognized Bo Katan. She stood on one side of the throne. On the other side stood two others that you recognized, you had seen them with Din often, but you didn’t know their names.

“Din?” You whispered his name.

He shot you a smile but continued on. Suddenly, you found yourself on the platform standing beside Din as he faced the crowd. He lifted one hand, as if in greeting, and you stared at him as he spoke Mando’a. His voice was loud and firm. Powerful. This was a king among men. You never thought Din Djarin of all people would look like he belonged in this setting. You knew he had the attributes that would make a fair and just king, but Din had never enjoyed the spotlight. The future he craved, the future he painted while speaking to you in the dead of night, was a humble one. A home, some land, a family. Peaceful.

A bark of Mando’a, in a voice you vaguely recognized, interrupted Din and you watched as his shoulders stiffened. The crowd parted and a Mandalorin in dark blue armor approached. Axe Woves. That was his name you believed. You didn’t know what he was saying, but you could feel the tension in the air.

Din set his hand on your waist and pushed you back. You only stumbled back a few steps before Bo Katan took you by the elbow and dragged you back further.

“What⏤ What is going on?” You asked.

“Challenge.” Bo Katan said. Din drew the darksaber from his belt and as it came to life you felt your own heart plummet. It’s poison was spewing in the air⏤ suffocating you. Smug. Arrogant. Angry. Insulted. You sucked in a sharp breath. “Axe Woves has challenged Din for the darksaber. For rule.”

The fight started in a clash of weaponry.

It was a blur of beskar, but all your eyes could focus on was the arc of the darksaber. The burning glow that was now seared into your eyes. Seared into your brain. You wanted nothing more than to take that damned thing and throw it into the darkest pit you could find. Every time you watched Din used it, you hated it all the more. The fight did not last long.

Axe Woves was a good fighter, but he was not Din Djarin.

Soon, the air was silent as Din held the edge of the darksaber just under Axe’s jaw. Close enough that the man had to have felt the heat. Axe was breathing hard, but you couldn’t see his face⏤ his back was to you. Din stood where you could see his face and he looked to be the picture of calm.

“Cetar.” Din demanded. Bo Katan whispered, her eyes not leaving the scene, as she translated the Mando’a. ‘Kneel’. Din asked him to kneel. You felt a chill run up your spine and it wasn’t from the cold air. The darksaber was singing. Excited. Eager. It craved and craved and craved. Din repeated the command. “Cetar.”

“Nayc.” Axe replied. You didn’t need that word translated.

At the sound of his refusal, you watched a flash of an emotion you didn’t immediately recognize in Din’s eyes. However, it was clear to see the way his lips briefly curled up into a smirk. You opened your mouth to scream, but all your words caught in your throat. Thick, heavy, and unwilling to be heard. Before you could overcome your hindrance, Din shoved the darksaber through Axe’s chest with not even a singular hiccup of hesitation. Your mouth hung open in shock and disbelief, but the horror didn’t land until Din leaned in and used his vibroblade to slice through the man’s neck in one swift motion. Blood sprayed out and the darksaber was screaming in pleasure.

“He had to make an example.” Bo Katan whispered. “It’s unfortunate, but Woves brought this upon himself.”

Din deactivated the saber and set it back onto his belt. While Axe Woves’ body slumped to the ground, Din tucked the still bloody vibroblade back into his boot’s holster. You stared at him wide eyed and horrified as Din marched back to the platform. He spoke before the crowd again, but it felt like your ears were ringing. The man you fell in love with would never have cut a man down in cold blood. The duel had been over. It didn’t have to end with blood.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from Din as he crossed the platform to sit on the throne. His legs were spread out in dominance as he lounged in the seat radiating confidence and pride. His eyes snapped to yours and Din held his hand out to you. Bo Katan gave you a small nudge and you stumbled toward the throne with hesitant steps. Din’s cold features melted away as he stared up at you as he always did, loving, but it only made the splattering of blood on his face that much more daunting.

When you placed your hand in his, your fingers were trembling. Din squeezed your hand in comfort and he carefully pulled you back so you sat in his seat. Bo Katan was addressing the crowd and you stared and stared at Axe Woves’ dead body. Still laying on the courtyard’s ground, the pool of blood around him growing larger and larger.

You felt Din’s breath on your neck. His hands settled on your hips as he sat up to press his chest against your back. His breath was replaced with his lips. Din mumbled about how much he loved you and how important you were to him against your skin. All this time, all the hope you had, was for naught. The man at your back was a stranger.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Din pressed another hot kiss to the back of your neck. "But I just wanted to show you our new throne, my queen. Surprise."

As it turned out, the light at the end of the tunnel had turned out to be just more hellfire.

In the dead of night, you ran.

You had hoped Din would return to his senses, become the man he once was, on his own accord. You hoped he had only needed time, but this had been proof. You were out of your depth. Din needed more than just time, he needed more than just you. As soon as you got past the thick, stormy atmosphere on Mandalore, you’d call for help.

The plan had been to take Din’s ship. It was the only one you were familiar with the controls enough to not have to worry about running into any issues. As it turned out, flying was not going to be the biggest problem you faced.

“Cyar’ika.”

Your blood ran cold. Slowly, nervously, you turned around to see Din stood not far away. His shoulders were slumped in disappointment, and the look in his eyes could only be described as absolute and total devastation. He took one step forward and you took one back. Din’s jaw locked.

“Din…”

“What are you doing?” Din murmured.

You shook your head. “Listen to me⏤”

“Listen??” Din scoffed. He took in a shuddering breath. “How could you⏤ Cyar’ika, I… Why?”

His voice cracked and you felt your heart ache in your chest. Din took another step toward you and you held a hand up which brought him to a sudden halt. You pressed your lips together then tried to explain that you were doing this for him. “Din, you’re not…you’re not yourself. You need help.”

“I need you.” Din replied firmly. “Everything is fine.”

“You murdered a man in cold blood today.”

“Is that what you⏤ You truly think so little of me?” Din asked. “It was a duel, cyar’ika. A challenge on my rule. I had no choice.”

You took a step toward him. “Din, you slaughtered him. And you enjoyed it.”

Din’s eyes darkened and the energy that slammed into you was possessive. For so long, you assumed that was how the darksaber felt. However, seeing the way he stared at you now, you realized the possession went much further than how the saber felt for him. He stormed forward and on pure instinct your hand drew your lightsaber without activating it. A warning. His steps stuttered. You didn’t know it was possible to visually see a person’s heart break, but you were witness to it right now.

“Cyar’ika,” Din whispered, “I would never hurt you. You know that, right?”

That was true for the man you fell in love with.

Was it still true?

“I…I…” You struggled to find your words.

Din held his hands out, palms up, in surrender. He took slow steps toward you as if you were a skittish animal he was trying to calm. The tenderness in Din’s gaze cracked your resolve. He reached out and let his hands slowly drag down your arms until they reached your hands. You felt your body tremble. It was easy to make the decision to run when you stared at Din’s features covered in blood, but now? His warm, brown eyes reminded you of every soft touch and tender word of love.

“Just come back with me.” Din whispered. “Talk to me, cyar’ika. I know…I know things haven’t been right.” He squeezed your hands and pushed the one holding the lightsaber back to your hip. “Let me fix this. Let me make this right. Give me a chance.”

Din leaned forward to set his forehead against yours. A familiar motion that brought you comfort. You let out a soft sigh. One more night. You could spend it talking with Din, gauging a better plan, and it wasn’t like you would be able to leave right now anyways. Not with him right in front of you like this. The look in his eyes told you he wasn’t just going to let you walk away and the absolute last thing you wanted to do was fight him.

“Please?” Din pleased.

“Okay.” You murmured.

The bright smile of relief that crossed his face made your heart flutter. Din pulled you into a tight hug and he clung to you like a lifeline. This would be alright. This would be okay. You’d make sure of it. Din slipped his hand into yours and carefully tugged you alongside him. The entire walk back to your bedroom was silent. Din’s thumb traced patterns against your skin.

“I love you.” Din said the moment you were back in your shared room together. His words came out as a desperate ache. “I’m sorry…”

“No, Din, I…I love you. I will always love you.” You replied. “I was leaving to help you.” Din’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I just think you’ve lost sight of your path.” You pressed your lips together then settled your hands on his chest. “I think we should leave Mandalore. Not forever, just⏤ I think we should visit Boba or Karga. Peli? Or… Or maybe we can reach out to Skywalker. Try to visit Grogu.”

Din’s eyes widened at the suggestion.

He wrapped his hands around your wrists then lifted your hands so he could press a soft kiss against one palm then the other. Din nodded. “Okay. Tomorrow. I’ll be better, cyar’ika.” You gave him a small smile and he leaned in to crash his lips against yours. The way his lips moved against yours made you feel like he was trying to physically beg you to stay with him. Din had never been a man of many words, he’d whisper kind sentiments, but he always showed how much he cared by action. “I love you.” Din’s mouth dropped to your neck as his hands began to tear at your clothes. “You are everything to me.”

Your hands reached out to unlatch Din’s armor. It was muscle memory for you. How many times had you done this exact same action in the dark during your time with him? Too many to count. His besker fell to the ground and the second he was bare of any armor, Din scooped you up and carried you to bed.

In the morning everything would be okay.

You’d make it so.

A familiar hand caressing the side of your face is what you woke to. You forced your eyes open, groggy, to find that Din was sitting on the side of the bed leaning over you. He wore his armor once more. Din leaned down and pressed a feather light kiss to your forehead.

“Ni ceta, cyar’ika.”

“Din?” You questioned.

“I want you to know that everything I do is because I love you.” Din said. “I’ve lost everything, but you.” He cradled the side of your face. “Even this, accepting the title and responsibility of Mandalor, I did with you in mind.”

There was a tone in his voice that was making you nervous. Slowly, you sat up and shook your head, “Din, I never asked you to do that.”

“I know.” He replied. “But this is how I protect you.”

“Din⏤”

“There is nothing in this galaxy that will harm you while I’m around.” Din said firmly. He stood up off the bed and gave you a tight nod. “I won’t lose you. I can’t lose you. This won’t last forever, I swear it. But I can’t leave anything to chance. Not when you mean so much to me.”

Din began to walk toward the bedroom door to leave and you stared at him in confusion. Quickly, before he could leave, you threw the blankets off your body and jumped out of bed. There was a heaviness around your left ankle, a coldness, and with every movement came a rattling. You glanced down to see a shiny, silver chain locked around your ankle. It trailed to the wall beside your bed.

“Din.” You breathed. He stopped but said nothing. “Din?” He turned around with sad eyes. Panicked, you began to rush toward him, but a few feet away from him the chain caught your ankle and you nearly fell to the floor. Warm hands caught you by the arms and pulled your back to your feet. Teary eyed, you shook your head. “What have you done?”

“It’s temporary.” Din repeated himself. “Just until I know you won’t hurt yourself by leaving.”

“Hurt myself⏤ Din, I⏤”

“Cyar’ika, I'm doing this for you. To protect you.” Din gave you a tight lipped smile of regret. “Or until I can make you understand.” Din leaned his forehead against yours. The soft action you loved ruined by his words. “You are mine, cyar’ika. You are mine, and I am yours.” That look of possession was in his eyes again. “And because you are mine, I have to take care of you. And that’s exactly what I plan to do.”

Din was beginning to step back so you quickly cupped his face between your hands. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be. As softly as you could manage, trying to bite back the fear and panic in your voice, you mumbled. “Din, baby, you’re losing yourself. I love you, but you’re losing yourself and it’s breaking my heart. Let me go. Let me help you.”

He turned his head and gently kissed the inside of your palm.

“Maybe I am.” Din murmured. “But if that’s the cost of keeping you, then it’s one I will happily pay.”

Din left without another word and you crumpled to the ground in tears. You mourned for the man you lost and cursed the man who took his place.

mando'a translations

ni ceta: i'm sorry cyar'ika: darling, sweetheart cetar: kneel nayc: no

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #mando x reader #mando #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #dark!din djarin #female reader #reader insert

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bones4thecats · 2 months

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Hey there Bones! Is it okay to request Tokyo Revengers Draken, Taiju, Hakkai and Hanma with a short and shy Reader that worry about them whenever they get hurt and the Reader patches them up. At one point Reader ends up crying because they're worried their boyfriend might die.

If this is too much you don't have to do it.

Shy! S/O Crying In Fear Of Their Life

Type of Writing: Request Character: Draken Ryuguji, Taiju Shiba, Hakkai Shiba, and Shuji Hanma Name: Shy! S/O Crying In Fear of Their Life Requester: @koushiro23

A/N: This nearly made me tear up. This is why I don't have a boyfriend myself U-U

Spoilers for: Tenjiku Arc

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🐲 Draken knew how upset you would get whenever he would come over with injuries all bandaged up

🐲 He understood that you cared for his being like how one would care for their spouse, and he couldn't blame you, he couldn't fathom the thought of you being injured in a similar fashion

🐲 But, during a recent fight, he had quiet a few injuries and your home was nearby. So, he called you up and told you he was coming over and you might wanna ready some bandages

" Why? Oh god, did you get into another fight?! Are you alright, Draken?! " " Yeah, just bleedin' a little. I'll be by in a couple, okay? Don't worry. " " Yeah, okay... see you. "

🐲 Rushing around your home, you were glad your family wasn't home at the moment, since seeing their child's boyfriend come in with injuries would make them go on-edge

🐲 Once you heard your front door open and your boyfriend call out your name with obvious strain in his voice, you came out with a pillow and blanket

🐲 Draken sat down on your couch as you wrapped the blanket around his legs, making sure he was warm and you ran in and out of the room carrying bandages and whatnot

🐲 As you continued to cover his minor injuries, he noticed that you would stiffen and sniffle every time you saw a new cut

" You okay, love? " " Oh lord... Draken- why on Earth do you do this shit? You know how much I fear losing you! Why do you keep doing this?! I just- I can't even bear the thought of you getting hurt and then, you not... you not coming back to my embrace... "

🐲 Tears swelled up in your eyes as his widened in shock before looking down in shame. Why did he do this? For Mikey? He guesses, he also just wants to keep you safe, and establishing his dominance helped

🐲 He sighed and wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling you onto his lap as he kissed your forehead, making a silent promise for only you to hear

" I'll try to be more careful, okay? " " Okay... " " I love you, Y/N L/N. " " And I you, Ken Ryuguji. "

🔥 He was beyond upset right now, punching holes into the walls in rage as he heard his followers yelling in the other room

🔥 Why did that damn fight go so wrongly?!

" Taiju- " " WHAT?! "

🔥 He froze in place as he saw your smaller form flinch at his loudness, oh god, why did he just yell at you?! He guesses he was madder than he even realized

" I brought some stuff to fix you up... I figured you still had some sort of injury on yourself... " " Uh... yeah. Sorry for yelling at you, I just- " " I understand. You're under some stress. "

🔥 Taiju smiled lightly at your words as he chuckled, you always had the ability to calm him down from his highs of blood-lust and anger, haven't you?

🔥 Allowing him to find somewhere comfortable to sit so you could come up and bandage his hands up from the multiple holes in the walls, he gritted his teeth as you dragged a rag with alcohol on it across said injuries

🔥 Once you had begun to wrap the final bandages around his knuckles, he looked up at your face, noticing how your eyes were starting to fog over with tears

🔥 You were starting to cry? For what reason?

" Y/N? Are you okay? " " Hm? Oh- yeah. Perfectly splendid. " " Horse shit. I know when my dear S/O is feeling down better than anyone else. What's wrong? "

🔥 Sighing in sadness, you began to rant about how scared you were for him. Some of the hits that their rival gang was throwing at them were scaring you, he could've been killed when that guy pushed a knife through his hand!

🔥 Like, what if he hit an artery? What if that injury got infected and somehow killed him slowly?

🔥 He just sat there holding you in his lap, allowing you to cry into his chest, his Black Dragon's uniform pushed away to the side as he pet your head

🔥 You really were a worry-wart for him, huh?

☄️ You're boyfriend was not answering any of your calls, and that was starting to scare you deeply. Hakkai always answered you

" C'mon hon, answer me... "

☄️ Nothing.

☄️ It was at that moment where you heard your front door being knocked on. And, grabbing your bat for protection just in case, you looked through the peephole, only to be met with the sight of your boyfriend's short blue hairdo

☄️ Laying the weapon aside, you unlocked the door, opening it so you could take in his beautiful form

" Hey there... " " Oh my god! Hakkai, what happened to you?! " " Just a little scuffle a few blocks down, that's all. "

☄️ Grabbing his arm, you pulled him inside, throwing him onto the couch, you ran into the bathroom. grabbing everything you knew would help him out with his injuries

☄️ Hakkai watched as you sat down on the table in front of him, coating his cuts with alcohol and other stuff to help it get clean and heal before wrapping decently sized bandages around said cuts

☄️ You eventually stopped moving and stared at one cut that was still bleeding, it was a very light amount, but it still scared you

" Hakkai... why do you do this? " " Do what? " " Fight so much? Do you know what could've happened to you?! You could've been killed! I know that may be an over-exaggeration, but, come on! I just- I can't bear the fact that just because of some over-grown bastard I may not see you again... "

☄️ He stared at you and looked into your eyes, now allowing tears to cascade down your cheeks, you were in so much pain

☄️ Hakkai, much like the previous two, grabbed you and pulled you into his lap. And he just brushed his fingers through your hair, shushing you and reassuring you that he was safe

☄️ He wasn't planning on leaving you alone in this world any time soon

☠️ You and him have had this talk multiple times

☠️ You understood that fighting was a major part of Hanma's life, but why was it nearly every single night now he was coming home with injuries all over himself?!

☠️ Hanma had walked through your door while holding his arm, trying to keep something from you, no doubt

☠️ That was when you pulled him onto the couch and ordered him to stay put

" Ooh~ the midget is getting bossy. I like it~ "

☠️ You glared at your boyfriend over your shoulder and you walked into the bathroom and carried a box of medical supplies outside, making Hanma freeze and sigh

" Baby, I'm perfectly fine. " " I can see the cuts and blood on your head, Hanma. I'm not stupid. "

☠️ Turning on the TV, you turned around and began to make good work of his cuts and bruises, covering those you deemed most possible for infections

☠️ He sighed as s familiar name came on, Kisaki Tetta. He had been hit by a truck and killed while fleeing away from Takemichi and Draken apparently

☠️ This did not shock you, the guy was a lunatic. But then again, you were dating a just-as-bad lunatic

☠️ Like, Hanma nearly killed someone because they tried laying a hand on you while he was standing right there

☠️ But, listening to him rant about his fight with Draken and how Kisaki shot two members of Tenjiku made you grit your teeth and start tearing up

" Woah- uh- babe? You're kinda tearin' up there. " " I know... " " Why are ya' tearing up, if I can ask. " " Why? Because Shuji, what if you had gotten killed like Kisaki?! I don't know what I would be able to do without you here to make me feel safe, to protect me from all those nasty people out there! It's like- if you guys had switched places... I don't know what I'd end up doing... "

☠️ Hanma looked at his covered hand and sighed before standing up and picking you up, causing you to wrap your legs around his waist

" I do not plan on going anywhere like that soon. And while I may not have the plan fully worked out, believe me babe, I'll always come back to ya'. "

☠️ You smiled and hugged him tightly, making your boyfriend laugh and kiss your neck before blowing raspberries into the flesh

" Now... how about we have some fun, bossy pants? "

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