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eclipsedpascal · 3 years

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Lavender Bruises

Older!Duncan x Female reader

A meeting with you and your father’s company’s buyers, leads to the shocking realisation that you had unknowingly slept with it’s new owner, Duncan Shepherd, just the night before. You needed to hide this sinful secret from your father, which left you stuck between wanting to make him proud and the unsatisfied craving you couldn’t ignore for Duncan to claim you as his personal toy. But you could manage both. Right?

Warnings: mentions of work (ew), alcohol, one night stands, large age gap, daddy kink, size kink, unprotected sex, public sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), intercourse, spit kink, slapping, spanking, hickeys, bruising, degrading/teasing, mouth fucking with fingers? is that a thing?, hair pulling and a ring kink ig:)

Notes: I've been writing this for fkn MONTHS now bcs I kept loosing inspiration, so this is actually the first thing I ever properly wrote! it's kinda complicated ig? idk like the parts in bold are a time skip to the night before and the fic goes in-between the meeting the reader is at and the previous night, meaning there’s two separate smut scenes so!!! but yeah i'm a whore lmao. Also ik hickeys don’t show up the same on certain skin tones and i’m sorry for that. i tried my best to be as inclusive as possible nd didn’t mention anything to do with the skin tone. Also!! if you're interested, I was listening to Cherry lips by garbage most the time I was writing this nd I feel like it fits it pretty well😌

Word count: 8.4k

●●●●●●●●

Going over the logistics of a content deal with the conglomerate that had recently bought your fathers newspaper wasn't the most preferable way for you to spend your lunch, but unfortunately it was necessary.

You know how these “lunches” go; business meetings disguised as casual discussions. They’re exactly the same if taken place in a conference room. Disagreeing and having to come to compromises you’d rather not, with the only differences being there's more chatter and cluttered noise of dinnerware coming from the restaurant around you.

You much preferred being in the office for these kind of things, but it was at the request of the new owners that you meet here, meaning you didn’t really have choice.

As you arrived at the restaurant you saw your father inside, waiting for your arrival just past the main entrances oversized, glass doors. You were almost 10 minutes late now and you knew he would be pissed. Honestly, you couldn't blame him.

Having to rush through a traffic riddled DC to get home at 10 in the morning because you had spent the previous night in a strangers hotel bed wasn't your proudest moment. Was it worth it? Yes, but it didn’t exactly leave you with much time to prepare for the lunch only two hours later.

You payed the driver and stepped out of the cab onto the drowning, wet sidewalk, desperately trying to shield yourself from the relentless rain that had been pouring down on the city all morning.

Looking up at the grand building on front of you, you could tell the place was going to be expensive. The entrances steps were 12ft wide and made of a pearly white marble that was now soaked with cascading rain water, making them even harder for you to run up in your heels as you tried escape the cold.

“Y/N, where have you been? You're 10 minutes late and these people don't like to be kept waiting." The people your father was referring to? the owners of Gardner Analytics. they had bought what seemed like hundreds of press company's over the past few years, especially those in the DC area. Their most recent purchase being the Washington herald, of which your father was the Editor-in-chief. You had been working there for a few months as your fathers assistant and helping out at these meetings had become routine.

“I'm so so sorry, my alarm didn't wake me and I-“

"It's fine" He interrupted "It's fine, just please tell me you have the documents I asked you to bring?" You could tell he was stressed out from the way his voice was wavering and how often he was stumbling over his words, so instead of trying to explain yourself any further you stayed quiet and did your best to take in as much of the information he was relaying onto you as you possibly could.

As he led you through the dinning room he explained to you who else was there, telling you that the others from the herald who were attending the lunch had already began talks with Gardener Analytics at the table ten minutes prior.

The closer you got to the table the more your fathers voice faltered, trying to round off the conversation so he could properly introduce himself when the time came. "Now Bill Shepherd had to cancel last minute, said it was something to do with his health unfortunately. But not to worry! I've spoken with him over the phone and he's informed me his nephew is filling in for him, okay?”

Before you even had a chance to reply he turned from you, reaching over the table to shake hands with a man you recognised as Seth Grayson; their director of communications, and an older woman who you assumed was Annette Shepherd. She and her brother Bill were the owner's of Gardner Analytics and your father had said it was important he got on their good side.

As your father greeted the others, you began retrieving the documents out of your bag, knowing they would be needed by Seth right away.

"..So sorry for the delay Mr Shepherd, you know how DC traffic can be" Your father chuckled slightly as he shook the man’s hand, making some light small talk. Mr Shepherd? that must be bill’s nephew, you thought.

You felt even more unprepared now; you didn’t even know the man’s name.

"This is my daughter and assistant, Y/N" Upon hearing your father introduce you to the mystery Shepherd, you slotted the documents under one arm and reached out to shake his hand with your other.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Shepherd" But as you shifted your gaze up to his own, you realised that there was no need for introductions.

He smiled gently, a kind of smug delight obvious in his eyes as he looked you up and down, taking you all in. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Y/L/N"

He released your hand from his grasp, moving to clasp his own behind his back. “But please, call me Duncan.”

Duncan fucking Shepherd. how could you be so oblivious? The two of you had spent hours together last night. How hadn't you figured out who he was? As panic ripped through you like a wildfire, you wondered if Duncan was feeling the same way; but from the look on his face, he was enjoying this.

●●●●●●●●

11:34pm previous night

It was getting pretty late now, and meeting someone who could fuck the stress out of you was becoming less and less likely by the minute. so deciding to finish your drink and leave, you took in the room one last time; making sure you hadn’t missed anyone interesting.

The fluorescent red and blue lighting of the expensive hotel bar was just bright enough for you to spot an older man you hadn’t noticed before. He must have been at least 40. He was sat in a booth with five or six others, all drinking, laughing and joking, yet he was staring at you.

Taking the seat next to you, he called out to the bartender. “Bourbon. Neat.”

You'd been waiting for him to come over ever since you saw him. It had been 20 minutes or so of quick glances and smiles to each other before the group of men he had been with dissipated. You had heard one of the men he was with refer to him as ‘Duncan’ when he had said his goodbyes, but other than that all you could assume about the man was that he was rich; judging by the all black LV suit he was wearing.

"Can I buy you a drink?” Turning to face at him when you heard him speak, you were practically stupefied by how attractive he was. His hair was full of shiny grey streaks that aged him. His stubble complimented his cheekbones perfectly and the speckles of grey throughout it helped bring out the brightness of his piercing blue eyes. His lips were full, and you couldn't help but notice how soft they looked.

“Vodka and coke” You smiled, trying your best to be confidant, but they way he was looking at you was giving you butterfly's you couldn’t swat away.

“I.D?” The bartender asked. You grabbed it out of your purse, proving your age to the bartender before watching him walk away to make your drink.

There was a brief silence before the man spoke again. “I hope my staring didn’t bother you, I just couldn’t take my eyes off you.” His flattery almost made you blush, but he wasn’t going to get you with a line that bad.

“Didn’t bother me at all, though i’m sure your friends there must have been envious” You chose to ignore his cheesy line, knowing that as much as you wanted him to take you there and then, you would much prefer making him work for it.

He chuckled slightly, knowing the game you had chosen to play. he looked away from you and down into his glass before taking a swig of the golden-brown liquor that occupied it. “Well I’m known to be quite a busy man, so I’m sure they understood.” He turned to face you slightly, waiting for some kind of reaction from you.

“Busy enough of a man to be drinking on a Tuesday night?” You questioned him teasingly, Ignoring that you yourself had the most important meeting of your young career in just over twelve hours.

“Is that really such a surprise? Most times being so busy is the main reason for drinking” He joked with you as he flirted, making it hard for you to keep eye contact without going red at the thought of such a beautiful man seeking your attention.

Duncan could see how nervous you were under the confident demeanour you had put on, I mean you were practically screaming it out to him at this point. The way you were fidgeting with the chain of your silver earring as you leaned against the bar and the fact you couldn’t even look at him for longer than 3 seconds without blushing was evidence enough for him.

“Well, that’s true.” You giggled a little as you spoke in your anxious state.

Taking a hold of your drink, you wrapped your lips around the paper straw and moved your gaze over to the bartender who was now serving someone a few seats down, attempting to distract and ground yourself from the situation at hand.

You were gripped back into reality quickly when you heard him speak again.

“There’s no need to be so nervous, I’m not going to eat you.” You found his use of the phrase quite ironic, being that’s exactly how it seemed. His eyes were piercing into you in an almost questioning manner, but when he gazed over your body, taking in your satin, black slip dress covered curves, the swipe of his tongue against his plump bottom lip gave you a very different impression; an impression he wanted to devour you. It was as if he thought you were that sweet snack he had been craving all week.

“No? That's a shame” You faked a frown, pouting as you moved to rest your chin on your hand.

“Well I think we should at least be aware of each others names before making such wild propositions, don’t you…?” His smirk never seemed to leave his face as he spoke.

He was good at this game, better than you at least. Of course It was obvious he was going to have had more experience with his age and all, but the way he was charming you so easily with just plain old conversation and confidence was getting harder and harder to match.

“Y/N, my name’s Y/N.” You batted your eyelashes at him a little, for some reason feeling smaller upon revealing your name to him. You felt as if you had lost the upper hand in the conversation suddenly.

“Hm, Y/N. That’s beautiful.” You rolled your eyes. Of course it is. Thats what they all say. You thought.

“Aren't you going to ask mine?” His ego now showing, you decided to make a bolder move.

“You rather fancy yourself, don’t you, Duncan?”

He finished his drink and moved closer to you. “Oh, so you already know my name?”

He was close enough to you now that you could make out the many beauty marks which decorated his cheekbones and hear the rasp of his voice even better than before. It was thick as honey and just as sweet too.

“I heard your friend call you it.” You quickly replied.

He scoffed a little, finding amusement in what he was about to say. He brought his face down closer to yours and began to run his fingers through your hair. “Hm, well he’s an old friend sweetheart. Most people would call me Mr Shepherd.”

You felt yourself grow hot, Duncans words casting a haze of complete lust over your mind.

You did your best to stay confidant, doing everything you could to ensure you didn't loose this game the two of you were playing. “Really? Is that what you like? Mr Shepherd.”

Your faces were so close to each others now that you could smell the bourbon on his breath when he let out a loud chuckle. His pearly whites showing as he did so. You even felt him graze his stubble against your cheek.

“Mhmm.” He ran his finger over your lips as he spoke slowly. "So tell me, what is it that does it for you Y/N? Hm? I mean a girl your age doesn’t decide to stare at a man like me all night just for the hell of it. So what is it? The power? The money? Or is it the age gap so big I could be your father?”

You squeeze your legs together as his sentence finishes, letting out a hushed whimper. Of course you were attracted to older men, that was obvious, but hearing him say it out loud in public whilst being so close to you turned you on even more than you thought previously possible.

He chuckled a little, “So it’s the age then, is it sweetheart? The idea of having a man more.. experienced pleasure you, instead of a man who would leave you to fend for yourself after finishing in less than five minutes. You want someone who can make you cum so hard you’d be begging him to make it stop, don’t you?” Every move Duncan made, every word he spoke was calculated, and it was all in pursuit of teasing you just because he knew he could.

You made a mental note of his nickname for you as you looked up at him. You felt his fingers run across your cheek and then push some stray hairs back behind your ear as you desperately tried to think of something smart to say, anything to say; but he had won. He knew what you wanted and he wanted it just as bad. You didn’t even care anymore. You were more than ready to give what little of a resolve you still had up to him.

He whispered to you as he moved his spare hand up the small of your back. “Now little one, I have the presidential suite of this hotel under my name tonight. So what do you say we go on up? Since now we're just so well aquatinted."

●●●●●●●●

Having to take part in a meeting with your father and the man double your age that you had fucked for hours the night before was NOT what you had planned for today.

“Mr Shepherd, I apologise that I didn’t make it here on time. I had a pretty hectic morning.” You did your best to keep your chill in your now shocked state, but with everyone watching the two of you it wasn’t easy.

“No don’t worry, I know how DC traffic can be, especially in this weather. As long as you're here now.” A wide smile was planted on his face as he spoke. The same as last night. He never broke eye contact with you, and you found yourself wondering how he could do it so easily.

“Please, sit.” He gestured you over to take a seat as he pulled out the chair next to his own. You thanked him politely and sat down, your mind racing and spiralling out of control at the thought of your father discovering the sinful deeds you and his new boss had taken part in just hours prior.

You felt him tuck you into the table before sitting down next to you. You could hear the voices of the restaurant that surrounded you and the others at the table coming at you. Every noise was muffled, as if your head was suddenly underwater.

“Y/N?” You were quickly brought back to reality when you heard Seth question you.

“From my understating you have the merger documents in your belonging, yes?” He looked at your father for reassurance this was definitely case as he spoke. So with everyone at the table’s eyes on you, you slid the documents over to him.

“Yes! And uhm the specifications for the more politically based content changes are detailed on page 25. I was told that was of high interest today?” You got yourself back on track, trying to stay as professional as possible whilst ignoring Duncan and the predicament you had found yourself in.

“We were briefly discussing the more major changes before you arrived Mr Y/L/N, but I believe you’ve already been made aware of most them?” Duncan addressed your father, kicking the meeting off. But you couldn’t concentrate. You were listening to the conversation, you really were! It was just that you were so wrapped up in Duncan’s voice you couldn’t actually understand what the fuck they were all talking about.

Seeing him so invested in the crucial conversation he was having with your father and the many other associates at the table was just doing something to you.

Observing the way his hands were moving when he spoke, you noticed how he would often clasp them together when he was explaining things, and how he would tilt his head slightly as he listened. His bronzed curls were combed to perfection, resting delicately on the right side of his face and when he licked his bottom lip, it sent a shiver down through your spine all the way to your cunt. You were entirely captivated by him.

Hearing your Father ask for your opinion on the subject being discussed, you shook off the spell Duncan’s attractiveness had casted onto you and responded, giving your perspective on the subject.

Duncan relaxed into his seat a little more as he watched you talking. He knew you had been staring at him, but it was cute, he thought. Almost endearing seeing you get so flustered at just the sight of him. He had seen you squirming around in your seat whilst you watched him and decided the accidental teasing wasn’t enough; he wanted to toy with you more. As much as he possibly could.

“You know, if you’re trying hide what’s happened between us then you might consider making your staring a little less obvious, sweetheart.” He was speaking quietly enough for nobody else to hear and not looking in your direction, pretending to still partake in the tables back-and-forth. Still the fear of your father, who was sat just across the table, overhearing Duncans remarks was petrifying.

You knew you couldn’t let your craving for him and the confusion from not knowing who he was last night effect the meeting, but there he was with that nickname again, stirring your desire even further.

“How are you even here?” You let your frustrations out onto him as you talked back, his cocky attitude getting to you too easily with the stress you were under. “I’m trying so hard not to ruin today and this situation isn’t helping! They’ll fire me if I mess this up and I’ll be fucked! Which surprisingly, I’d prefer not to be!” Your whispering was pretty aggressive, but could you really blame yourself?! This kind of coincidence was rare, so you had every right to be mad at the universe for letting it occur on today of all days.

His ego not faltering for even a second, he chuckled. “Oh you don’t wanna get fucked? Funny, because I remember you saying the exact opposite last night.”

He grazed his hand across your inner thigh, massaging it gently before diving underneath the little black pencil skirt you were wearing to grip onto your flushed skin.

You scoffed at his words and looked up at him, shocked at how bold he was being and expecting some kind of response from him, but he didn’t even look your way. You assumed this was so no attention was brought to the two of you and so you followed his lead, turning away from him just as fast as you had looked.

With the heat of your cunt having grown far too intense to bear, any friction that wasn’t your own thighs pressing up against each other was to be welcomed. So you decided not to stop him. In fact you did the exact opposite, spreading your thighs wider for him, not having the self control or restraint to keep yourself from him any longer.

His hand moved closer to where you needed him most, diving under the crotch of your underwear to swipe his fingers over your slick folds and immediately begin rubbing circles onto your neglected clit.

You stifled a moan, leaning onto the table on front of you to keep yourself steady as he touched you. Finally, he moved his gaze to rest on you, watching you as you struggled to stay silent. He whispered once more, “Always so wet for me, aren't you princess?”

●●●●●●●●

As soon as you entered the suite, Duncan gripped onto your waist, pushing you up against the door and cradling your cheek with his spare hand before smashing his lips into yours.

His tongue slipped past your lips, dancing with yours whilst he moved his hands all over your body, clutching onto your breasts and then moving them down to explore the rest of you.

He lifted your dress up just enough so he could grip your ass. Pulling you closer to him and making you feel his bulge against your hips, you were too short in comparison to him to feel him where you wanted to most.

He spoke to you in kisses, telling you of how ravenous he was for you and that he was going to savour every moment. He moved his lips down, trailing open mouthed kisses from your neck to your collarbones and to the top of your breasts.

“This fucking dress” He took ahold of the bottom of your dress, pulling it up above your head with urgency as you lifted your arms to better help him strip you. Throwing the dress down onto the floor and hearing it land somewhere behind him, he admired your body and it’s curves.

“The perfect wrapping for such an enticing present.” He finished his sentence. Immediately grabbing at your breasts, sucking and kissing them.

You couldn’t speak, too enthralled with the technique of his tongue swirling around your nipple to do anything but moan in response to him.

You threw your head back against the door, staring up that the beautifully patterned ceiling in pure ecstasy. You felt him drag a callused hand down to the waistband of your Lacy white panties, tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach as he traced his fingers over it. His finger tips running across the little white bow that centred the waistband.

He collapsed down to his knees, yanking the delicate lingerie as he fell, leaving it to puddle around your ankles.

He teased your heat, moving from kissing the skin of your thighs to your folds, but not yet reaching the lengths you wanted him to, only adding fuel to the fire in between your legs.

“Please Duncan-” you begged him, desperately needing some kind of release from the binds of lust he had managed to wrap you in over the past 45 minutes.

“Ah ah, don't you remember? You don’t get to call me that.” He spoke.

“I’m sorry, Mr Shepherd.” You corrected yourself, recalling the conversation you had with him prior to coming upstairs.

“Mhmm, now as magnificent as that name sounds coming from you, I know that there’s something else you’d rather call me.” He hummed in disapproval, calmly redirecting your choice of name for him and reassuringly pressing his lips onto your clit.

You let out a stuttered gasp, you did want to call him that, but now you felt nervous due to the build up he had created.

“Com’n, sweetheart. Do you think I don't know why you’re here in the first place? Why else would you be sat all alone in the bar of a hotel you weren’t even staying at? You’re just another slut with daddy issues, sneaking down to an expensive hotel to scavenge for any man good enough to fuck you into submission. Isn’t that right?”

Mildly insulted at his all too accurate observation of you, but enjoying the effect his degrading words have on you none the less, you gave him what he wanted. “Mm yes daddy!” You whimpered out, admitting your ploy to him.

A low rumble emitted from his chest, your words setting off some kind of animal inside him. He dove his face down into your pussy, starting by sucking on your clit gently, flicking his tongue over it and applying more and more pressure as you writhed above him.

His mouth was closed around you now, his grey, speckled stubble scratching your already inflamed skin. You were taken aback by his skills, intwining your fingers through the curls in his hair and tugging on them with every wave of pleasure that hit you.

He snaked his large hand around your thigh, lifting it up to rest on his shoulder while he ate you out. Enjoying the new angle he was utilising, he hummed, sending vibrations through your nerves up to the pit of your stomach, bringing you closer to your climax.

“Mmh.. fuck daddy, i’m gonna cum!” He didn’t let off, his tongue perhaps fucking into you even faster since you told him how close you were. You locked stares as your orgasm took over your body, your lips forming an o as you screwed your eyebrows together in rapture.

He came back up, letting you taste yourself and he placed his lips on yours again. You eased into the kiss, a relaxed haze having taken over your body in your post-orgasm state. Feeling a slight breeze flow up the side of your form, you realised that Duncan still had all his clothes on whilst you had none. Deciding you needed to change this as soon as possible, you began unbuttoning his suit’s matching black blazer and shirt, rushing to feel his skin on yours.

He helped you, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as you began to unthread his leather belt from the loops of his trousers. “You’re so impatient, little one.” He spoke.

“I think I’ve waited long enough, daddy.” You smirked, dropping the belt at his feet.

As soon as his shirt hit the floor you reached up, gliding your hands across the expanse of his bear chest, taking notice of how small your hands appeared in comparison to him. He watched you, relishing in the glimmer of entrancement that shone through your eyes as you ingested him.

He lifted you, his strong arms carrying you bridal style towards the king sized bed and throwing you down onto its crisp, satin sheets. Grabbing your ankles, he dragged you down the bed towards him and finished taking his pants off. His cock sprung free from the confines of his boxers, smacking against his stomach.

He clambered onto the bed, resting on his knees as he jerked himself in his hand, reluctantly groaning out at the first contact his neglected cock had received all night. His pressing cock had made it unfathomably hard not to just fuck you up against the door when he saw that sweet little way in which your face scrunched up as you came.

You were practically drooling, watching him fuck himself into his fist as his eyes scanned across your naked body. Not being able to wait any longer and wanting to finally feel his cock on your skin, you sat up slightly and reached out to touch him. But before you got the chance, he shoved you back down. leaning over you, he held your wrists down against the pillows with one hand and wrapped his other around your delicate throat.

“So greedy, baby” he stoked his thumb over the skin of your neck as he made his observation, watching you struggle underneath him.

“I just know what I want.” You toyed, your voiced coming out slightly muffled with the pressure of his large hand covering your voice box.

“Such an attitude, too.” His cock brushes over your cunt as he sways his head from side to side in disappointment and disproval. “Now sweetheart, you’re gonna stay exactly where you are and daddy’s gonna fuck you just like this, okay? So he can see that pretty little face of yours.”

You gulp at his words, anticipating the feeling of having him inside you. “Please just fuck me. Please.” You knew you sounded absolutely pathetic, but you didn’t care. Just needing him plummeting in and out of you as soon as possible.

He chuckled at your neediness. Taking his hands back from your wrists and grasping his cock, lining it up with your entrance and slowly pushing in, he let you adjust to his size.

Moaning out, you dug your nails into the bed sheets, watching his head drop down to yours as he closed his eyes in pleasure.

“Fuck, you take me so well.”

●●●●●●●●

He slipped his ringed finger into you, pushing against your spongy walls whilst you made a desperate attempt to suppress your moans. You bite down onto your nails, your elbow resting on the table as you put all your weight onto it for some kind of crutch.

He began with a slow pace, making sure you would feel every little movement he made. You heard him join into the conversation once again, mentioning something about an article he had seen from the Herald last month which had impressed him. You weren't even sure. You couldn't think for the pulsing beat of your own heart that filled your ears.

“You all right there, Y/N?” Your heavy breathing must have been a dead give away for something being up, being your father was now questioning you.

You felt Duncan stop his movements momentarily, joining the rest of the table in their standstill, staring at you as they awaited a reply, but his little act of sincerity didn't last too long.

“Yeah, uhm-“ you felt him slide a 2nd figure in, making you fake a cough as to stop the cry desperately trying to escape your throat from doing so.

“Yeah, I’m uh, just thirsty.” Hoping this would ward off the worried looks you were receiving, you were shocked when you heard Duncan chime in. “Oh don’t worry, we can get you something.”

He called the waiter over, asking him for a pitcher of lemonade and thanking him as he walked away, back towards the kitchen. You would have preferred some water, you thought, but you were far too focused on what was going on underneath the table to say anything.

“Now, where were we?” Seth began talking once more, bringing the attention back to where it should be. But Duncan? No. His attention stayed on you. Even more focused on fucking his fingers into than before, he sped up and began going even deeper now, curling them upwards until you were twitching.

You looked up at him pleadingly. You were getting too close to cumming for your own liking, so you grabbed onto his thigh and dug your nails into his expensive black dress pants, warning him. He shot you a devious grin, scissoring his fingers inside you and pressing his thumb down to rub sweet circles on your hooded clit, letting you know he didn’t intend on stopping.

He looked behind you suddenly. Following his gaze, you snapped your head to the side, trying to get a good look at what had grabbed his attention so abruptly.

It was the waiter. He had arrived with the pitcher of lemonade in hand and yet Duncan was still plummeting his hand into your pussy with such a speed you began to wonder if someone had actually noticed what was truly going on. I mean the waiter must know.

At this point you had let far too many questionable gasps leave your mouth, your breathing had become even more erratic as you grew closer to your orgasm. He knew you were about to break before he swiftly pulled his fingers out of you, wiping the juices that coated them back and front onto your skirt so he could pick up the glass on front of you, leaving you unsatisfied.

You scrambled to collect your thoughts and breath as he picked up the pitcher, pouring the ice cooled lemonade into your glass.

“Here.” He spoke. You lifted a shaky hand up to take the glass from him when the grasp he had on it ‘slipped’, spilling the contents of it the onto your lap.

“Oh!’ You jumped up, making the sweet, sticky liquid run off your skirt to your thighs, dripping down your legs and eventually onto the floor. The now empty glass falling with it.

“I am so sorry, Miss Y/L/N.” He picked up the glass, sitting it on the table before joining you in standing. Now he was stood, you could clearly see the dark tint of his cock straining against the constrictive fabric that was his dress pants. It sent a pulse of lust through your cunt.

“Duncan!” Hearing Annette voice her annoyance at her son for being so clumsy almost made you laugh. It was quite amusing seeing his mother reprimand him, being he was a grown man in his 40s.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I-I’ll just go clean myself up in the bathroom. I don’t want to distract the meeting anymore than I already have.” You made eye contact with your father as he rubbed his temples.

He was annoyed at the scene you and Duncan had caused. You gave him an apologetic look, feeling bad for stressing him out even more than you already had with being late, but knowing it was technically Duncan’s fault and not yours.

“Please, let me help you clean up.” Duncan pushed his chair in, quickly grabbing some napkins off the table and resting his hand on your back to guide you towards the nearest bathroom, walking as fast as your weak legs would let him.

His hand stayed delicately placed on the small of your back, until you were out of the tables sight, at which point he took hold of your arm, clutching it like a vice as he dragged you through the bathroom door.

He locked the door behind him in preparation for what was to come. He needed to make sure nobody would be walking in on what he was about to do to you.

Looking back towards you, satisfied as ever now he had you alone, he waltzed on over, pinning you up against the counter with force. You could smell him on you again, same cologne from the night before. Dior, you guessed.

“You’re not very good at staying quiet, are you, Sweetheart?” He mused, hoisting you up onto the counter and forcefully cradling your face with both hands as he moved to kiss you deeply. His tongue ravenously re-familiarising itself with your mouth.

“You almost got us caught back there.” He spoke in between kisses. “Your poor, naive father, watching you. He was probably wondering why you kept squirming.” He voiced a dark giggle, moving down to suckle on your neck and push your skirt up your thighs.

“I almost got us caught? No. Y-you almost got us caught when you decided putting a second f-FUCK, finger into me whilst I was talking to him was a good idea!” You choked out, doing your best to fight through the pleasure of his lips finally grazing your skin as you watched him pull your panties down and slot them into his pants pocket.

“Awh poor baby. Did you not want your daddy knowing that you’re a greedy little slut for his new boss? Hm?” He admired the blossoming lavender and cherry bruises now forming on your neck as he teased, marvelling at the idea they could be noticed by your father once you finished.

He quickly opened his fly, pulling his dress pants and boxers down just enough that he could pump his cock in his hand. Gripping onto your hips for purchase, his fingers dug into you so viciously you could feel the marks he had left the night before. You knew after this, there would surely be more.

He thrust himself into you, earning a loud wail to fall from your lips. You arched your spine at the feeling of him pounding into you, making your head fall back against the mirror behind you. His hand shot up to the it as he gathered more speed, his pace growing far faster than you had anticipated.

“Was it too much for you? Taking my fingers in your cunt whilst you were trying oh so hard to concentrate? I almost made you cum on front of everyone.” You moaned out at his grotesque words, pulling your head up to rest your forehead on his shoulder.

“Answer me.” He pulled your chin up back to look at him, still pounding into you. The sound of your skin slapping against one another’s felt even louder in the small, tiled bathroom.

“Yes daddy! It was too much for me - AHH!!” You let yourself go limp against the mirror, giving yourself up to him entirely and wanting nothing more than for him to use you like his personal rag doll.

●●●●●●●●

Your throat was growing hoarser with every squeal you made. Duncan had been fucking you ruthlessly for what felt like hours now, constantly changing his pace from calm to aggressive and back again. His lips were mouthing over your peaked nipples, tongue slathering trails of saliva across your skin and teeth scrapping over dozens of tiny goosebumps.

“Such a filthy, fucking whore for me.” Squeezing down on your neck with one hand he uses his other to slap you. His ringed hand coming down across your fleshy cheek with a loud crack.

You gasped out, shocked at this move and feeling reinvigorated by the suddenness of it. His abuse only made you more attracted to him, causing your cunt to puddle its juices around his cock.

Slowing his thrusts down to an almost complete halt, he grabbed your jaw, yanking your mouth open just enough that when he dripped his spit down you could catch it. You moaned at the filth of his actions, tasting the bourbon he had drank earlier at the bar.

Following the thick thread of salvia that connected the two of you to each other, he brought his face back down to yours, bringing your sloppy lips together. Never giving you the chance to close your mouth before he slid his tongue into it.

Your lips part, foreheads leaning on each other with eyes locked as you scream and moan at his brutal fucking. “Such a good girl.” He praised you.

“Thank you daddy!!” You cry out, feeling tears brimming in your eyes at the deepness of his cock. You knew he was going to be good when he first pushed you up again that door, but this was insane. You had never felt his turned on before. Loving being completely at his mercy, but receiving none.

He pulled out suddenly, wrapping his hands around your stomach and flipping you over to your front. You got the just of what he wanted and clambered onto your hands and knees for him. He pushed his cock back into your folds, hips ricocheting off your ass immediately.

He pulled at your hair, lifting you up to his chest as he gruffed and groaned. He was much larger than you, making it easy for him to pull your head back enough that he could see the expression on your lust enthralled face.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He demands, spanking your ass cheek and twisting your hair around in his hand. His other hand moved to your gaping mouth, pushing two fingers inside so you taste the metallic bite of his silver band.

You gag as he fucks your mouth, mumbling around his fingers in a desperate attempt at begging him to allow you to cum. You were getting so close now. You guys had been going for so long and your impending release wasn’t going to wait much longer.

“Fuckk, don’t worry sweetheart. Daddy’s close too.” He took his fingers out of your mouth, bringing them down to your clit and swiping at it furiously. You could feel your own spit on his fingers as the coil in your stomach tightened.

“Ohh Daddy’s gonna come so deep inside you, little one.. would you like that?” His breathes were uneven. Thrusts uncontrolled and sloppy.

“Yes!! Fuck, fuck, FUCK Daddy I’m cumming!!” Your cunt pulsated around his shaft, squeezing his own orgasm out of him even sooner than he expected as you screamed. You could taste the saltiness of your own tears, them having run down your cheekbones and into your agape mouth.

His cum flooded your walls, filling you up with his hips pressed against yours as he enveloped you in an embrace from behind. He uttered out a shudder against your temple, his breathe feeling hot and damp on your skin.

He set you back down on the bed and pulled his softening shaft out of you, moving his large hands back to your hips as your own gave out and fell underneath you, pressing your face into the sheets. You eventually rolled over to lay on your back, wanting to let your aftershocks roll through your quivering limbs more comfortably.

He fell down onto the duvet next to you, propping himself up on his side slightly and pulling you closer to him so he could plant a kiss on your swollen lips. “You alright? I didn't hurt too bad now, did I?” He stroked your face, words alluring as ever now your resting bare bodies were tangled up together in a complete stand still.

“Nothing that I didn't enjoy, no.” You joked, lightly drawing intricate shapes on his arm with your fingertips, still harnessing the blemishing sting his ring had left under your cheekbone. “I’d say we're pretty well aquatinted now; wouldn’t you, Daddy?”

●●●●●●●

You could feel cool drips of perspiration slipping down your heated skin from your forehead to your collar bones and all you could do was hope they hadn't taken any of the concealer you had applied earlier this morning with them. You had needed to cover the bruise Duncan’s ring had so easily left on your cheek the night before, since you really didn't want your father or anyone else from work seeing it.

Duncan’s cock was curving in all the right places as he hammered into you. His pace and brutality showing you stars. He seemed even more confident than he did yesterday. Having had experience with you, he knew that you could take his most heinous savagery with delight and didn’t hold off one bit.

His huffs and groans were tantalising, growing louder and more uncontrolled as he fucked you into oblivion. His hand squeaked as it fell down the steamed mirror he leant on, leaving the glass behind you and finding its way to your jaw. He brought your face to his own and kissed you, loudly moaning into your open mouth.

You giggled through your mewls. “Mmm.. I thought I was the loud one, daddy.” You were amused that he had been teasing you so adamantly about the volume of your pleasure, when he was now the one making all the noise.

He paused, quirking an eyebrow at you before slamming his hips into you with a thrust so strong it made you practically scream out. “Oh, my apologises, sweetheart.” He smirked as he picked up his pace once more.

You wrapped your hands in his perfectly styled hair. You no longer cared who knew what was really happening in here, the thought didn’t even cross your mind. All you cared for was chasing your high. You rutted your hips on his and took his length entirely, feeling dangerously close to cumming.

“Fuckkk baby, daddy’s gonna cum okay?. Cum with me princess. Fall apart on my cock.” His unfocused thrusts had you coming undone in seconds. You held onto him tight, digging your nails into his shoulders and pulling at his curls as you cried out in ecstasy.

He shot his seed into you, feeling all his pent up frustrations from earlier at the table leave him as he pushed himself deep into your abused cunt. He didn’t even attempt to stifle his moans, too invested in finally receiving his release to realise just how loud he was being.

He rested his forehead on yours, your sweaty skin pressed against each other as you both attempted to catch your breathes after such a quick, ruthless fuck. You started laughing, finding it utterly ridiculous that you had spent the majority of a meeting you had been terrified for, getting fucked by your new boss (and the man you had fucked the night before) in a restaurant bathroom.

He joined in laughing, clearly finding humour within this strange situation too. Interrupting your laugh, he pushed his lips into yours, kissing you as if your lips were some kind of prize. You felt his cock slip from your cunt, his seed immediately spilling from it as you were left with a sudden, empty sensation.

He made quick work of zipping his pants back up and fastening his belt. You tugged your skirt back down to your thighs, being reminded of how Duncan had snatched your panties and stashed them in his pants pocket. You guessed you wouldn’t be getting them back anytime soon, which you were okay with, you just hoped nobody saw his remnants leaving you left the bathroom.

You flattened out your skirt and felt the wet sticky lemonade that still coated it. You had completely forgotten to clean it. “Fuck, my skirt's still sticky! Why would you order lemonade?” You whined; still mad he hadn’t just ordered some water.

Awaiting a reply, you turned to check your make up in the mirror. Luckily it was pretty light today, so it still looked good other than the bruise on your cheek now being slightly more obvious than before. What really concerned you was your neck. It was covered in every shade of purple and red you were aware existed. If your father and coworkers didn’t know what was going on from how weird you were being at the table before, or how long it had taken the two of you to finish in the bathroom, or the noises that were emitting from it, they would definitely know after seeing all the claims he had left on your skin.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t think that spilt water would have been a good enough excuse to get you all alone in here.” He chuckled to himself, leaning over to rest his chin on your head and wrapping his arms around your waist as he joked over his mischievousness.

“But we should probably head back out there. I’m sure your father’s going to apprentice the beautiful mosaic I’ve painted across your neck” he kissed the bruises he spoke of as he watched you through the mirror.

You scoffed at him, gifting yourself one last look before completely giving up on finding a way you could make your face and neck appear more presentable for heading back to the table.

Duncan opened the bathroom door, nodding his head towards the hallway and waiting for you to hurry up and join him.

The two of you started walking back, your legs struggling to take your weight with how weak they had become. Your heels clicked along the floor, making you far more aware of how soon you would be sitting back down with everyone from work. Like a clock counting down to all the judgmental stares you would surly be receiving.

You kept your eyes trained on the floor as you took your seat at the table. Seths voice trailed off upon seeing the two of you sit down, leaving you both in the middle of an uncomfortable silence that felt near suffocating.

“What took so long!” You could hear the anger and perhaps embarrassment in Annettes voice as she whispered to Duncan. She looked towards you, glaring and scowling before retiring her vision back to him. She was probably hoping that what she assumed to have occurred hadn’t, but from the marks clearly decorating your neck, she would have known it to be true.

“Oh, we just couldn’t get the lemonade out of her skirt.” He tut as he spoke to his mother, smiling and playing off any obvious suspicions. “I’m sorry, really.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, dripping with a sincerity you knew to be false.

“So what was it we were discussing?” he speaks louder now, addressing the rest of the table.

“Uhh actually, I think we have a deal.” Seth replied, looking over at him and then the rest of the table. You heard your father mutter something in agreement, but it was meek. Quiet. He must have felt the awkward tension too. It was ripe in the air, like a shiver you couldn’t shake off. You didn't even want to look at him, knowing If anyone there felt most uncomfortable, it was him.

Saying their goodbyes and finishing up with any last details, everyone stood to shake hands and bid their farewells. You felt your fathers scowl as he came and stood beside you, but you didn't dare look at him. You were too ashamed to face him whilst still with your coworkers.

Duncan walked over to your father, looking more satisfied than ever with his eyes still focused on you as he thanked him for meeting and shook his hand firmly.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr Y/L/N.” He let go of your fathers hand only to take a hold of yours. He grasped it delicately, a touch more gentle than he had ever shown you previously. Assuming he was trying you shake it, you were more than surprised when he raised it to his lips, kissing your rosey knuckles; still red from the tight grip you had, had on his hair earlier.

“I look forward to working with you in the future, Y/N.” He graced you with once last signature smirk as he walked away, leaving you with your father who was waiting for an explanation and apology for your disgusting and foolish behaviour.

Maybe it hadn’t been the worst way to spend lunch.

Tags: @sojournmichael @dark-mei-rose @ntxoza @angelicmichael @jimmason @michaellangdonstanaccount @blakescoven @7-wonders @ghostangels @fernfiction @brattylovee @melodylangdon @brooklinn13 @instincts-baby

#duncan shepherd #duncan shepherd x female reader #duncan shepherd x reader #duncan shepherd smut #house of cards fic #older!duncan #older!duncan shepherd #older!duncan x reader #boss!duncan #boss!duncan shepherd #boss!duncan shepherd x reader #daddy duncan #cody fern #cody fern fic #my writing

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raiseyourcups · 3 years

Text

Cabur

Chapter Eighteen

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Aili Verdella) Warnings: choking (and not the sexy kind), miscommunication (so much of it), cursing, Kuiil attempting help Mando and Aili Word Count: 4.4k Also on AO3

Masterlist//Main Masterlist

Summary: The whole gang is on the way to Nevarro, Mando is being weird after a quick talk with Kuiil and Aili is suspicious. Cara and Mando have an arm-wrestle and secrets are revealed about the child which leads to several people putting their foot in their mouth at different times.

They were loading up the blurrg when Kuiil spoke up. “That one is good for you,” he said without preamble as usual. That didn’t make his words any less jarring for Mando to hear as he barely stopped himself from accidentally pulling too hard on the blurrg’s reins. The last thing they needed was for him to piss off the blurrg again.

“What?” was the only thing he settled on saying.

“The smaller angry one, Aili. You two are good for each other, sooth each other’s anger from the past.” Kuiil wasn’t stupid, he had seen too many things during his servitude to the Empire. He didn’t need to know any details to see the similarities and he was sure the Shock Trooper had seen it too.

“We’re not together,” Mando said stiffly.

“That is not what I see when you two are around each other.”

“She doesn’t-”

“I have spoken.” Kuiil said before Mando could even finish his sentence.

Mando didn’t even know what else to say or do after that so he just kept leading the blurrg onto the ship. He was just glad that neither Aili or Cara were on the ship yet. Cara because she would just start laughing at the two of them again and Aili because he had no idea how she would react. As much as he wanted to know, a bigger part of him, the smarter part, didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to hear her own rejection out loud.

They got everything packed onto the ship quickly after that, Mando trying to avoid Aili just a little bit. He almost succeeded but right after Cara and Kuiil went on board, Aili stopped him from heading up the gangway with a hand on his arm. “Is everything okay? Because if this is about the plan, we don’t have to--”

“We don’t have a choice,” Mando said shortly, slightly shrugging out of her grasp and walking onto the ship. Aili stared at him as she followed behind him with Little Green’s cradle floating between them. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion but she quickly schooled her face back into it’s usual passive expression once Cara was in sight. No need to have Cara start asking questions or making teasing remarks any time soon.

She watched Mando from the corner of her eye as she made sure that Little Green’s cradle wasn’t going to be in the way of anyone. He went up to the cockpit and they were soon taking off from Arvala-7 without another word. Weird but whatever, Aili shrugged to herself and went over to where they kept their rations to get the kid something to eat to keep him from starting any trouble.

Whatever Mando’s problem was would work itself out eventually or she could always kick his ass, whichever happened first. She was willing to bet on the latter option though. There was the small lurch that sent them into hyperspace and a minute later, Mando was sliding back down the ladder just as Aili was turning to walk back over to Little Green.

Aili let out a quiet sound of surprise when she barely stopped herself from getting a face full of beskar. “I am getting you a bell once this is all over.”

“None of that, please, there are children present,” Cara called from where she was sitting. She had a smirk on her face as she watched the two of them almost crash into each other. She honestly couldn’t believe the two of them were still acting so oblivious to each other’s feelings, but she was starting to get the impression that it was mainly coming from one more than the other.

“Who, you? I think it’s too late to give you the talk,” Aili bit back, side stepping around Mando so she could give Little Green his snack. Hopefully after that he’d be ready to go to sleep and then he really couldn’t start any trouble before they got to Nevarro.

“Just a little late,” Cara said back, a large grin on her face now. Her gaze slid over to where Mando was still standing stiffly. “Hey Mando, let’s settle a bet.”

“What?” That finally snapped him back into reality and Cara pulled out a few credits, placing them on the crate she was sitting in front of.

“Let’s find out who’s really stronger, me or you.”

Mando paused to think it over before walking over and placing his own credits on the makeshift table. “I won’t go easy on you.”

“Trash talk doesn’t work on me.”

Aili watched as Mando and Cara arm-wrestled out of pure boredom and a need to finally prove who was stronger. Further back Kuiil was feeding the blurrg and Little Green was curiously watching Mando and Cara as well from his cradle. He had just finished his snack and Aili was still trying to decide how much longer to let him stay up. She had given him the snack and moved back over to the other side of the ship where things were a little less crowded.

“I got you, Mando.”

“Care to double the bet?”

Aili rolled her eyes at the two of them, mostly Mando because he had no problem making bets with Cara but he couldn’t have a simple conversation with her before they left Arvala-7. She had no idea what had happened during the time he was loading the blurrgs with Kuiil but if he wanted to act like a child, she’d let him. He had done that to her plenty of times.

Her eyes went wide in surprise as soon as Cara started to choke on nothing. Like something invisible was choking her. She rushed forward when Cara brought her hands up to her throat in an attempt to do something. She didn't even notice Mando staring at Little Green as she tried to figure out what was wrong with Cara.

“No, no, hey, stop!” Mando shouted, grabbing Little Green a little too roughly as the child let out a small squeak of surprise. “We’re friends. Cara is my friend!”

Cara took several harsh breaths. “That is not okay!” She angrily exclaimed, pointing at the kid with one finger while she tried to catch her breath.

“He...has he had powers this whole time?” Aili questioned, eyes still wide in shock. She’d heard rumors of things like this, had seen a couple of girls taken out of the Program with no reason given. But guards always talked and they spoke of weird powers, something the Emperor was always looking out for. Other than that she had never asked for details. She wouldn’t have been given answers anyway no matter what her rank was within the Program.

“Hmm, very curious,” Kuiil said, coming closer to look at the child in Mando’s grasp.

“Curious? It almost killed me!” Cara exclaimed, not even noticing when the kid let out another quiet sound of distress.

“He’s a child and didn’t know what you two were doing,” Aili said harshly, moving around Cara to go over to Mando to hold her hands out for him to hand Little Green over to her. He hesitated for a second before doing so. She barely noticed the way he tensed up when their hands brushed against each other, she was too focused on making sure the kid was okay.

“The story you told me of the mudhorn makes more sense now,” Kuiil said, still looking at the child with surprise in his eyes.

“Mudhorn?” Aili asked, throwing Mando a look of displeasure when she saw the slight tears in Little Green’s eyes. He had obviously gotten scared by Mando shouting at him and Cara yelling at him.

“What is it?” Mando asked, ignoring the look Aili was giving him for now. It wasn’t the most pressing matter at the moment to tell her about the mudhorn incident.

“He,” Aili muttered under her breath, too low for anyone to really hear it. They had both given him enough baths and cleaned his small robe enough times that Mando should know that Little Green was a boy by now. Of course he was probably still trying to act like he wasn’t as attached to the kid as she was.

Kuiil shook his head slightly, “What it is, I don’t know. But what it does, this I’ve heard rumors of.”

“What, when you worked for the Empire? And what about you Aili, you know about this too?” Cara questioned, her tone a little too accusatory for Aili’s taste.

Aili threw a look of incredulity towards Cara, angry that the Shock Trooper would accuse her of something with no proof. “Okay let’s not go there just because you’re pissed off.”

“And you mean when I was sold to the Empire, in indentured servitude,” Kuiil added, his own voice taking on slight anger.

Cara let out a scoff, gesturing towards them both, “Yet somehow, you both walk free.”

“I bought my freedom through the skill of my hands and the labor of three of your human lifetimes. Do not cast doubt upon that of what I am nor whom I shall serve,” Kuiil said, short and to the point but not without quiet anger lacing his every word.

“I had to blow up a whole base to be able to “walk free”, you do not get to judge me or the things I did before then,” Aili stated, staring at Cara with a withering look in her eyes. So much for being friends if this was all it took to cause distrust. She turned around again, her back to Cara now as she muttered to herself, “I do that plenty to myself every day.”

No one noticed Mando making half an attempt to bring a hand up to Aili's shoulder before he stopped himself. With a subtle shake of his helmet, he brought his hand back down to his side, clenching both hands into fists to stop himself from trying again.

IG-11 had walked over to them at the sound of raised voices but stood down a little when he saw Aili was comforting the child already. Mando let out a deep sigh knowing that both Cara and Aili were going to be pissed off for hours now. Not exactly two people he wanted angry on his ship, worse that they were angry with each other.

He turned to Kuiil and made sure to keep his voice even as he spoke, “Tell you what, I could really use your craftwork right now. Any way you can pad this container better so the child can sleep better?”

He knew that even though Aili had agreed to switch out when they used the cot, she spent most of her nights letting the kid sleep on the cot. He had come down from the cockpit more than once and seen her curled up on the floor in front of the cot with nothing but a blanket and one of her bags as a pillow under her head. So if Kuiil could make the kid’s cradle more comfortable, maybe then she’d actually use the cot for once. He knew it wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep but it was better than the ship floor.

“I shall fabricate a better one. Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one’s hands.”

"Thank you. We need to go over the plan again,” Mando directed the last part to Aili and Cara who were still not looking at each other. Cara wasted no time in heading for the ladder, still rubbing at her neck before she went up to the cockpit without another word.

"You two go ahead,” Aili said shortly, keeping all of her focus on Little Green for the moment, rocking him from side to side without thinking about it.

"This involves all of us,” Mando replied, barely holding back another sigh. He knew she was upset but that didn’t mean she could get out of making sure the plan was fool proof.

"Yeah well unless you think Little Green will be able to contribute somehow, someone's gonna have to get him to calm down,” Aili shot back, looking up at Mando and that was when Mando finally noticed the small amount of tears in big brown eyes. He let out another sigh before nodding.

“Okay, but once he’s asleep, come up to the cockpit.”

“Is that an order?”

Mando winced behind his helmet knowing that he had chosen the wrong thing to say if the blunt way Aili spoke said anything. He tried to fix it quickly, “A request.”

“Fine.” Some of the tension in Aili’s shoulders faded away but he could tell she was still angry. Probably would be until they reached Nevarro and then all her anger could be redirected towards the Imps that were in the city. Mando just hoped they could all make it to the planet in one piece. He shook his head once more before heading up to the cockpit, hoping that maybe he could talk to Cara before Aili rejoined them, let her know how badly she screwed up without telling her too much of what Aili had told him.

Aili watched from the corner of her eyes as Mando finally went up the ladder before she closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “Stupid,” she whispered to herself before biting her tongue to distract herself and to push away the dumb tears that had come to her eyes. Mando had been nice enough to not mention them, or just smart enough for once. Either way she was grateful.

She watched as Kuiil started to work on a new cradle for Little Green, this one round rather than a rectangle. She was perfectly fine with staying in the cargo hold while Cara and Mando were up in the cockpit trying to come up with some semblance of a plan if everything went sideways. Which it probably would like most of the things that Mando was involved in.

Aili was just trying to get the kid to go to sleep before rejoining them. She knew that was why they had brought Kuiil and IG-11 along but she couldn’t help herself. It had become a habit at this point and she wasn’t even sure if Little Green would let anyone else put him to sleep.

Kids got weirdly attached like that considering he would rarely let Mando put him down to sleep if Aili was there. It had gotten worse after the job on Tatooine which is something Mando had mentioned once and Aili couldn’t disagree with him for once. Waking up with a concussion and not knowing where Little Green was had sent her back to the base for a moment which was not a place or time she liked to think back on.

But she was also okay with any time spent avoiding Cara for a little while, the other woman’s comments had hit a little too close to home for her. The accusations had been worse, the implication that she was in any way still working for the Empire. She had thought she had made it obvious what she thought of Imps.

So to hear the comments come from someone who she had just been joking around with, someone who she had thought was her friend? Had Cara said something to Mando and that was why he was acting so weird now? She let out an annoyed sigh and tried to shake the thoughts away. She didn’t care what either of them thought of her, she knew where she stood and that was all that mattered.

“You and the Mandalorian are good together,” Kuiil stated when he paused for a break, hoping Aili would see more reason than the Mandalorian did.

“Excuse me?” Aili was pretty sure she was hearing things but she didn’t stop her rocking motion aside from a slight wobble.

“I can tell, I saw things during the Empire’s rule. Children, girls not even old enough to walk or talk yet, taken from their parents and never seen again.”

“I--” Aili hadn’t even thought that there could have been girls taken from the workers on gene farms. But it made sense, they were desperate to pay off debts and for not the first time, she wondered about her own parents. She pushed the thought away quickly, it didn’t matter to her anymore, she knew they weren’t workers on some farm. Her file had had that much information at the very least even if it didn’t have the right birth year.

“It’s not hard to spot the hard edges left by the Empire. Both of you have them for different reasons but they are very much the same,” Kuiil continued, not noticing the way Aili was almost lost in thought.

“Yes but-”

“You both round out each other’s edges. I have spoken.” Kuill said before turning back to his work before Aili could even say anything. She stared at the Ugnaught in stunned silence before a quiet coo brought her attention down to Little Green. He blinked his own big brown eyes at her like he understood and agreed with Kuiil.

“Not you too, you little womp rat,” Aili whispered to him. Little Green had the nerve to smile at her before reaching up to reach for a loose curl of hair. Aili let out a deep sigh, adjusting her grip on the kid so his head was resting against her chest and he could wrap his little hand around her hair.

She had no idea why he always had to do that but it was cute regardless of the times he accidentally tugged too hard. To her it was just like when Shaeli and Jaesa were younger and couldn't sleep. If Mando only knew how many times she had slept in the Covert that first year, one or both of the girls piled on top of her so they could sleep soundly to the sound of her heart beat.

It took another couple of minutes before Little Green fell asleep deeply enough for Aili to put him down in the cot, tucking a blanket around him. A couple minutes too long for her to be alone with her thoughts and the comments Kuiil had made. She knew how Mando felt about her, probably felt about her, she corrected herself. It wasn’t like they had sat down afterwards and discussed their feelings but she was sure she had picked up on it anyway. The helmet could only hide his expressions but not his actions or body language.

She just didn’t know how she actually felt about him. It wasn’t like she had any kind of previous relationship experience to fall back on, none of her experience had come from a place of emotion of any kind. She knew she loved the girls but that was obviously different, they saw her as their older sister or in Shaeli and Jaesa’s case as their mother. But romantically? She didn’t know what that would feel like even if it was right in front of her.

With a deep sigh, she glanced at Little Green once more before shutting the hatch and giving Kuiil one last nod, she headed up to the cockpit to help with planning. Anything to keep another child from the Empire’s grasp.

“So we’re heading to Nevarro?” She walked in as soon as Cara asked Mando.

“Have you ever been?”

Cara shook her head, “No, we lost a lot of forces there.”

“You’re not missing much,” Aili muttered as she took her usual seat. “Rocks and lava, that’s about it.”

“Hey, I’m sorry about the shit I said down there.” To her credit, Cara actually did seem sorry about what she had said to Aili. It made some of the anger Aili was still holding fade away, but not much. She knew better than most that things said in anger were things you thought while not angry as well.

“It’s fine,” Aili said with a small shrug before trying to deflect the conversation. “You were saying about during the war?”

“Um, yeah, the city’s dug in pretty deep which I’m sure you both know already. So no cover when you drop in. It stayed in Empire control until the war was over.” Cara explained while continuing to clean the blaster rifle she had chosen from the weapons locker earlier. Aili hadn’t even noticed her taking it up the ladder with her but then again, she had her back to the woman at the moment.

“The warlord we’re taking out was an Imperial officer.”

“What station?” Cara asked. She didn’t know very much about how the Empire worked but she was willing to bet that between her and Aili they could figure it out.

“Hard to tell. No insignia anymore. I took out the safehouse when I snatched the kid. More Imps have reinforced since.”

Cara and Aili shared a quick glance before Cara spoke again, “There’s something more going on.”

“I agree, something doesn’t feel right. Imperial officers didn’t do their own dirty work during the war, why would they now? What was this guy’s name again?” Aili hadn’t known officers that were high ranking that would also do their own work. Even the Emperor had other people to do his bidding, it was the whole reason the Program existed. And she had even heard about some group called Inquisitors but they had a whole different hierarchy and she had never met one before.

“I only knew him as the Client.”

“Hmm, definitely something else going on,” Aili said, brow furrowed in thought now.

“Maybe. We’ll find out more when we land.” The cockpit doors opened before Mando could continue and IG-11 stepped in, stopping right beside Aili and Cara meaning he was right behind Mando. Aili cringed knowing Mando wouldn’t like that at all.

“I have prepared second meal. Would you care to be served here or below?”

Mando slowly turned to look at the droid and Aili could just about see the anger coming off of him before he turned back around. “I’m not hungry.”

IG-11 paused for half a second before backing out of the cockpit.

“Under no circumstances does that thing leave the ship,” Mando said stiffly once the cockpit doors were closed again.

“You’ve got a real thing for droids, don’t you?” Cara laughed, finally done checking over and cleaning the rifle.

“I got a real thing for that droid.”

“Mando, you shot at pit droids not too long ago.” Aili raised an eyebrow that Mando couldn’t see with his back to her but she hoped he could hear the tone in her voice.

“Yeah, I’m not going near that one but the Ugnaught said he rewired this one,” Cara said even as she furrowed her brow at the thought of Mando shooting at a pit droid. Those were the most harmless of droids that she had ever seen. They literally only had one job and that was to help fix ships. If there was one thing the Razor Crest needed, it was pit droids to fix half the things wrong with it.

“That droid was designed to kill things, I don’t care how much wiring he replaced. It goes against its nature.”

Aili knew it was stupid but Mando’s choice of words didn’t sit right with her. Not because she cared about the droid in any way. She hadn’t been around the droid long enough to care about it anymore than she cared about the last blaster she bought. But with Cara’s earlier comments still running through her head, Mando’s comment despite not being about her added to her earlier feelings.

“It shouldn’t be a long job anyway. We take out the head Imp, the rest will run like rats,” Cara grinned wide before getting up to get that meal that IG-11 had made. No point in going into a fight on an empty stomach.

Mando and Aili sat in silence, nothing but the stars of hyperspace passing by them for a long moment. “You were only talking about the droid, right?”

“What?” Mando asked, turning around to look at Aili. Behind his helmet, he was giving her a confused look that she couldn’t see.

“I-nevermind,” she said quickly before pushing herself out of her chair. “I’m going to head down for some food, you sure you don’t want any?”

“Not if the droid made it.”

“Of course, can’t trust food made by a killing machine,” Aili said before walking out of the cockpit before Mando could reply to her. He sat there in silent confusion wondering what he had said now that had made her mad. He went through everything he had said about the droid. The only thing he had said was that it was designed to kill things and no rewiring would change its nature.

“Dank farrik,” he hissed out to himself. Every time he thinks he can’t put his foot in his mouth again, he does. He could understand how she could misinterpret his words especially since he knew how she was raised pretty much since birth. Probably thought that made her no better than a hunter droid sometimes and now she had both Cara and him make comments that made it seem like they thought that of her.

He checked the solar clock on the console and wondered if he had time to fix his latest screw up before they reached Nevarro. He let out another curse when he saw that they had barely any time before they would drop out of hyperspace, maybe a few solar hours. He was about to get up to go find her when there was a knock at the cockpit door but no one came in. With a confused tilt of his helmet, he went to the door to find a small plate of food sitting on the ground.

There was a small bit of flimsiplast laying on top of it with a note written on it that simply said “Not made by a droid, eat it” in handwriting that Mando didn’t recognize. But only one person on board the Crest would even bother with the note let alone one demanding he eat it. He bent down to pick up the food, now even more confused than before but he would admit to himself that he was hungry and he doubted Aili would lie about the droid not touching this food. With one last look towards the ladder that led to the cargo hold he retreated back into the cockpit and after making sure the door was locked, he ate the food she had left for him.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x original character #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x oc

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butgilinsky · 4 years

Text

babysitting // ph

warning; alcohol ig

summary; where you and pope meet at a party, completely sober and looking for your drunk friends.

word count; 2.1k+

this is for @popeheywards pope appreciation week! i gotta give my bby all the love he deserves, so here’s day one (fluff) of pope week(:

prompt from this list: A and B met at a party, completely sober, and they hit it off super quickly, but everyone else is drunk, so after getting everyone home safely, they exchange numbers, promising to meet up next time they’re both invited to a party

thank you to @mdlyncline for convincing me to post this (:

you had just finished pouring yourself another cup of cranberry juice, opting out of the alcohol for the nth time tonight with a heavy sigh. you didn’t mind not drinking, but being at a party full of drunks while you were practically the only sober person was anything other than fun.

you don’t know how many cups of juice you’d had, but you were sure that it was a considerable amount less than the number of vodka sodas your friend had thrown back throughout the night. you just hoped that she was in the same place you left her five minutes ago.

it took you all of ten seconds after leaving the kitchen to realize that you had no idea where she was. you checked the living room, both of the downstairs bathrooms, and even made it all the way out into the backyard before you’d even gotten a whiff of where she had run off to.

“you look stressed.” a voice rang through your ears, catching your attention quickly.

your eyes followed the voice and landed on a boy that looked to be around your age, cup grasped firmly in his hand despite his sober demeanor. you could tell he wasn’t drunk, which surprised you but also brought you a sense of relief. he didn’t have any fraternity memorabilia, not a single greek letter anywhere on him, which was slightly confusing but definitely not disappointing.

you’d never seen him before, you were sure. you would’ve given him a second glance on any day, using the faded print on his hat as an excuse as to why you were looking a little longer than what was deemed appropriate in a glance.

“i’m on mom duty for the night and i lost my child.” the boy laughed softly, raising his cup to his lips as he closed the distance between the two of you, only to face the same direction you were facing.

“which one’s yours?” you laughed gently, feeling like two single parents on the bench of a playground while the looked for their toddlers. though it didn’t feel much different, looking for your drunk friends.

“her name’s morgan. she-”

“freeman?” the boy gasped playfully, only to earn an eye roll and a soft shove from you. “sorry, sorry, i couldn’t help myself. morgan, though? she’s pretty tall, probably 6′ but refuses to say anything about 5′11?” your eyebrows pulled together in confusion, something that the boy picked up on easily.

“she was in my intro to forensics class last semester. we study together sometimes.” you let out a noise of realization as you nodded slowly, deciding maybe this guy wasn’t some stalker that happened to know everything about your friend for no real reason.

“well, she’s my roommate and my best friend, unfortunately.” the boy’s eyes lit up, a smile stretching across his lips at the newfound information.

“you’re y/n then?”

you’d never loved the sound of your name more than you did when it fell off of his tongue. the lilt in his voice gave you a head rush and goosebumps all at the same time. you felt yourself nodding, letting him know that that was your name and you hadn’t forgotten, though you were sure you would have had he not told you seconds prior.

“i’m pope.” he held out a hand, the one that wasn’t gripping a cup filled with whatever he chose to get him through a party sober. his skin was soft, though you tried to not focus on that.

his eyes were soft, holding a sense of comfortability in them. you didn’t know who this person was, despite the few facts you’d picked up on in the short conversation you’d had with him, but you wanted to know more, that much you knew.

“well, pope. since we can’t find my child at the moment, which one’s yours?” he hummed softly, shifting his weight from the balls of his feet to his heels, and back again.

“jj maybank.” you hissed softly, watching pope’s lips turn up in a wide smile at your reaction.

you let out a soft laugh, smiling brightly when pope’s followed soon after. he was beautiful, truly. his laugh filled your senses, somehow taking over every thought that previously inhabited your mind. everything was replaced with the boy in front of you, smiling, laughing and talking with you.

“you’ve got a long night ahead of you then.” pope nodded, clicking his tongue softly in anticipation to see what the night offered him.

he’d babysat jj more times than he could count, which is something he told you shortly after. he’d grown up with the mischievous boy, both of them taking their turns of pulling the other out of trouble. he told you about their third, john b, who didn’t go to school here.

jj was here on a soccer scholarship, pope an academic, though that didn’t surprise you. the way he spoke alluded to his intelligence, and you remembered hearing morgan mention the name ‘pope’ a few times while she spoke about study group. you faintly remember the term ‘genius’ being attached to his name in most of morgan’s stories about the boy, though you weren’t sure if that was because of his intellect or morgan’s ability to expertly exaggerate one’s self.

they were in the same major, you learned quickly. and because you had never seen pope before, you were surprised to hear that he’d been to your apartment a few times for morgan to grab her things. you had been out every time, and now pope found himself upset about it. you’d just missed each other multiple times before tonight, and pope would be damned if he let it happen again.

“y/n! there you are!” you and pope both turned at the sound of morgan’s voice, facing the girl who could barely stand straight.

pope offered to take your drink while you reached for morgan’s frame, holding her up to the best of your abilities. she sighed in content, folding into you more than you would’ve wished for, but you held her up nonetheless.

“pope!” morgan smiled widely when she realized her friend from class was standing just a few feet away from her. they’d kept in touch loosely, studying for a class they were both taking when need be.

“hi morgan.” pope smiled politely, now gripping onto one cup in each of his hands while he watched the two of you, making sure he didn’t need to swoop in and hold morgan up in your place.

“pope! my main man!” and just like that, both of the sober parents had found their drunk toddlers without moving a single muscle.

jj came stumbling towards the two of you, clapping a hand onto pope’s shoulder before smiling at you and morgan. his eyes lingered on morgan for a moment longer than they had with you, which earned a nudge to the ribs, courtesy of pope’s elbow.

“this is morgan and y/n.” pope introduced you quickly, to which you two finger saluted jj, keeping morgan tight against you so her friendly drunk persona wouldn’t step towards the blond.

“nice to meet you, morgan and y/n.” you looked at pope quickly, rolling your eyes at the tone in jj’s voice. pope snickered, looking back at your two friends that were clearly ogling at each other.

“do you guys need a ride home?” you sighed but shook your head, not wanting to be a bother to the beautiful boy and his already drunk friend.

“no, that’s okay. it’s not a far walk-”

“y/n/n, i don’t want to walk.” morgan whined loudly, earning a soft snicker from pope while you rolled your eyes exaggeratedly.

“you promised you were fine walking tonight, morg. you swore you wouldn’t make me call an uber.” morgan smiled at you, doing her best puppy eyes while batting her eyelashes in your direction.

“it’s really no bother. i’ve gotta drop jj off anyways, and he’s right around the corner from y’all.” you bit on the inside of your cheek, a voice ticking in the back of your head telling you that you’d bother the boy by accepting.

“c’mon, y/n/n. popie’s nice.” you scoffed at the dumb nickname that morgan gave the boy, not missing the way he cringed at the sound of it.

“okay, okay. thank you, pope.”

he waved you off gently, telling you again that it wasn’t a big deal. he made sure to rope jj in to leaving, discarding both of your cups in a nearby trashcan, ignoring jj’s comment about ‘kie would be furious with you’. you raised an eyebrow at pope, silently questioning what that meant, earning a ‘old friend. big environmentalist’ in response.

you clung to morgan the entire way back to pope’s car, thanking him when he opened the back door for you to be able to shove her into the backseat. you sat in the back with her and felt her slump against you within seconds of leaving the house party.

you complimented pope’s music taste after a few songs, sparking a quick conversation about the few songs you’d heard on the ride. you knew all of them, having a few of them on your own playlists.

you were ignoring jj’s sly looks between you and his best friend, opting to focus solely on pope and on neither of your drunk friends. though, that proved to be harder than expected when morgan started to deadweight you after pope had pulled up to your apartment complex.

“morgan, i can’t carry you up ten flights.” morgan groaned loudly, pushing you off of her.

it didn’t take long for pope to offer up his help, claiming that he could lock jj in his car without much thought towards him being alright. jj would survive, according to pope, for the time being. of course, you denied him the first few times he offered, but when he asked once more, after morgan had gotten dangerously close to falling asleep, he unbuckled his seat belt.

it took pope all of twenty seconds to swing morgan’s door open and lift her out of the car. she would be mortified the next time she saw pope, but you had exhausted every option in your mind. pope didn’t mind, finding excitement in being able to spend a few extra minutes with you, even if it was because he was carrying your drunk roommate up to your apartment.

the walk was mainly silent, apart from the few times morgan would thank pope for carrying her, with a quick thanks thrown in your direction for holding her shoes. you and pope would laugh, and you’d smile at pope’s sweet ‘it’s no problem, morg’.

you’d share side glances and bright smiles, but neither of you dared to break the silence. every giggle that threatened to bubble out was suppressed, either by self restraint or the back of your hand pressing against your lips. you’d lift your elbow gently into his side, filling the void of not being able to brush your hand gently against his due to his holding up your best friend.

it wasn’t until the two of you put morgan to bed that you made time for the two of you, walking the short distance from her bed to the front door in a comfortable silence.

“thank you, again.” he stood in front of your door, hands folded into each other while he smiled and nodded towards you.

“it was nothing, really. if she ever needs an escort, i’m a call away.” you flashed him a bright smile and a simple nod while you shifted your weight from your heels to the balls of your feet.

“i guess i should grab your number then. you know, in case morgan ever needs a lift upstairs.” you shrugged gently, not missing the wide smile that stretched across pope’s lips before he held his hand out, palm facing upwards.

“that was smooth, i’ll admit it.” you laughed gently, watching him punch in his phone number before texting himself. “now you have to use it.” he winked at you while slipping your phone back into your own hand.

“i’ll be sure to do that.” he nodded again, waving off your hundredth thanks of the night and reached for the doorknob.

“have a good night, y/n.” he leaned forward, closing the small gap between the two of you by placing a kiss on your forehead before walking into the hallway.

he walked backwards, smiling just in time for you to stick your head out of the doorway and wave at him, fingers wiggling in a wave that had him swooning. you yelled out a gentle ‘goodnight’ just before he opened the door to the stairwell and disappeared.

you laid in bed ten minutes later, grinning up at the ceiling above you with thoughts of pope swimming through your mind when your phone buzzed on your nightstand.

pope♥ : i’m starting to think that babysitting jj isn’t so bad

obx taglist: @rafej-cambanks @sportygal55

#pope heyward #pope x reader #pope #obx #the obx #the outer banks #outer banks #outer banks netflix #jonathan daviss #pope fluff #fluff #popeappreciation

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damnedparker · 4 years

Text

mother tongue

pairing: din djarin x reader (no y/n, gender neutral)

warnings: none really, just fluff. hurt/comfort. mention of death, like one swear word

summary: din is exhausted. you try to help him heal after the events on nevarro.

also posted on ao3

title inspired by this song which i heavily associate with din for mando’a reasons.

i’ve never posted my fics to tumblr before so be gentle with me.

“When’s the last time you slept?” You broke the silence you and your Mandalorian currently piloting the Razor Crest were sitting in after finally putting the Child down for the night; or, at least, the night on Nevarro, which you had just left. “Din.” You nudged his arm with your foot, as you were currently stretched out lazily in the co-pilot’s seat. The bounty hunter continued to stay silent, his visor staring straight ahead. You repeated his name a few times over the next few minutes that passed before finally chucking the stylus you were fiddling with at the side of his helmet, resulting in a loud clank. No response. You heaved out a sigh and stood up, walking right up to his side. “Din. Mando. Asshole. Respond to me.” You flicked his helmet again. This time it was a quiet thunk that resounded off the beskar.

“What?” Came a gruff, audibly tired voice.

“I asked you when the last time you slept was.” You reiterated, now resting your hand in the space between his neck and his pauldron. Even through the thicker, practical fabric of his undershirt, the heat from his skin warmed your hand. You felt his shoulders relax at your touch, his head tilting to the side slightly as if your hand had simply deflated him.

“I don’t know.” His words were genuine; he had no idea when the last time he got some real rest was. He was quick to follow up before you could even open your mouth to reply. “I’m fine. I had some caf before we left.”

“You’re not fine,” you narrowed your eyes at him. “Get up. I can fly the next few klicks we have until we jump to hyperspace.” Din shook his head. You held in another annoyed huff. Sometimes he was as stubborn as a child. You stood and observed him for a moment, noticing the stiff posture that had returned, as well as the slight swaying his body had taken on, probably from being drowsy while still sitting up. If you didn’t get him out of the pilot’s chair soon, you would both end up crash-landing on some random planet neither of you were familiar with. “Din,” you began, your voice gentle as ever. His attention returned from the foggy limbo that only days-upon-days of no sleep caused. “It’s okay to be tired, you know.” Especially with everything that happened today.

“I know.” He whispered, voice breaking. “Can you… sit with me? While you fly?” One of his hands left the controls to grasp your wrist. You nodded, ecstatic that he’d actually agreed to let you take over, and even more so to be able to spend the time resting with him.

He shifted back in his seat before gently pulling you down on his lap, not letting go of the controls until you were comfortably settled against him and you replaced where his hands had been tightly gripping, hoping not to drift off while flying the Crest. You didn’t have that much longer before you could jump into hyperspace, switching to autopilot for a while before you would reach the first planet Din had the tiniest hunch might lead to the Child’s species. It had been in the back of his mind for a while, and now that the Child was officially part of his clan, he figured it was time to jump on whatever small chance he had to find his right home.

Din didn’t say much as you focused on flying, both because of his tired state and because he didn’t really know what to say. He had almost lost you today, as well as the Child. You had almost lost him. To some kriffing Imps. If IG-11 wasn’t there, who knows what would have happened. He didn’t really want to think about it. You were here now, real and warm, sitting with him and taking over the controls just because he was tired. You were really a gift to him. Sometimes the bounty hunter questioned what in the universe decided that he was deserving to have someone in his life as good as you. You, his cyar’ika, his partner. At this point, the Child’s parent just as he was its father.

He was terrified. Terrified of loving you, terrified of losing you. Stars, he loved you. He hadn’t loved anything before you and the Child. A heartless, lonely bounty hunter on the run from his own emotions until he stumbled into you one day, a bored former rebel pilot drinking the days away in a cantina. You had accepted his offer of partnership in helping with a particularly grueling bounty job without hesitation. It was something new. You had ended up being a breath of fresh air for him, too.

One thing led to another and you were traveling the galaxy with him before the Child fell into your lives and threw a wonderful, green wrench into it all. It was the last straw that opened up the tension that had been building between the two of you, pushing your relationship into new territory, romantic territory, which was something completely foreign and unexpected for Din. And, oh, how he adored it.

And today he had almost lost it all.

Nevarro was a disaster. The losses of Kuiil and IG had dug themselves hard into his brain, and he felt so guilty, and so absolutely devastated. Kuiil was a good-hearted being, he had helped Din without question, multiple times and had given his life for the Child. IG had done much the same. He couldn’t help thinking how he could have lost you as well.

“Fallen asleep yet, shiny?” Your voice tugged him out of his thoughts, and he wrapped his arms tighter around your middle, shifting to sit up more. He refused to fall asleep while he had the ability to hold you, to make sure you were still there with him.

“I’m still awake.” He rubbed his thumb over the skin that had become exposed from your shirt riding up a bit when you leaned forward to flick a switch, preparing to make the jump into hyperspace. “Just thinking."

“What about?” You hummed, easing the ship into the jump before switching into autopilot. You didn’t get up from your spot in Din’s lap, only leaning backwards into his chest to get comfortable.

“Us,” he paused, voice becoming quieter. “Everything that happened today.” You nodded, taking one of his hands from its place at your hip and beginning to remove his glove.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I… I don’t know,” he told you truthfully. You moved on to remove his other glove. “Not particularly. Not right now.”

“That’s okay,” you set his gloves aside, taking one of your hands in his and reveling at the warmth of his rough skin against yours. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m here.”

“I know,” he leant his helmet against your forehead affectionately. “Thank you.” You pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles in reply before you stood, tugging him with you.

“Come on,” you led him out of the cockpit, down into the sad, tiny excuse the Crest had for living quarters. “Let me help you get cleaned up. And then we can sleep. We have a long commute, so we have plenty of time.” You began to remove the armor from his body, beskar dropping on the metal floor of the ship minute by minute before he was in his underclothes. You neatly piled up the armor and scooted it against the wall, to avoid tripping on it like the both of you often did when you actually did get to sleep. Then you left to retrieve a clean set of clothes for him to wear to bed, as well as a towel so he could use the ‘fresher. While you were gone, he removed his helmet, quickly peeling off his dirty clothes from the day, leaving him in his underwear. He stood there for a moment, staring at the beskar helmet in his hands before deciding not to put it back on. He called your name to signal you back in the room. “We should really get you some new clothes, these are—” You cut yourself off with a gasp when you saw the back of his head, immediately turning and squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m sorry, I-I didn’t see anything, you-you called so I thought—”

“It’s okay, cyar’ika,” Din said softly, setting his hands on your hips and turning you towards him. He let out a chuckle when your eyes were still screwed shut. “I know. I wanted you to see.” He slipped his arms further around you, pulling you against him. “I love you. I want to be open with this part of myself with you. You deserve it.”

“Din, I-I,” you swallowed around the lump in your throat. “Don’t we have to be married for this not to break your creed?”

“Yes,” you felt his forehead gently make contact with yours, his breath fanning over your lips. “But only if that’s something you want.”

“It is. Of course it is.” You were surprised at the steadiness of your voice. Din was quiet, leaving you to put the pieces together in your head. Oh. “Right now?”

“I mean, if you want… we don’t have to, I was just—” You cut him off with a whisper of reassurance, nodding enthusiastically.

You had never been surer of anything else in your life as Din began to recite the Mandalorian wedding vows to you, and you repeated them almost too perfectly right after. Once it was done, you were both silent for a moment, when Din pressed his lips to yours in a chaste, passionate kiss.

“Open your eyes.” You finally gave in and obliged, taking in his face for the first time. You couldn’t get enough, bringing your hands up to hold his face and trace over his features. His beautiful hawkish nose that suited him incredibly well, his pouty lips framed by just the right amount of scruff. His brown eyes that shone with affection for you and his messy hair, flattened by his helmet and the amount of sweat and blood that had soaked it after today’s events. You brushed your thumbs over his cheeks and pressed another kiss to his lips, then the bridge of his nose.

“You need a shower.” Somehow that was the only thing you could get out of your mouth without crying.

“Thanks,” he replied with heavy sarcasm, but the smile that had overtaken his lips ruined every bit of his tone of voice. He pressed another soft kiss to your lips, nudging his nose against yours sweetly. “Join me?”

You nodded, following him into the refresher, hand held safely in his. Din helped you remove your equally dirty clothes, and him shedding his underwear, before you stepped under the hot shower. You wordlessly began to wash Din’s hair, loosening and rinsing away all the blood, sweat, and dirt while being careful around the back of his head. You parted the hair around the area you knew he’d been hit in, checking to see how the wound looked. It was healing, that was for certain thanks to the bacta spray, but stars, did it look absolutely awful. No wonder it had almost killed him. You took in a sharp breath before continuing to rinse his hair. Once you finished, Din stilled you from going for the soap next, taking one of your hands in his and caressing your chin with his free hand.

“Hey, look at me,” he tilted your face to his, holding your gaze intently. “I’m sorry I made you leave me. That’s a horrible responsibility to put on someone, and I know I wouldn’t have listened if the positions were swapped.”

“Don’t apologize, Din, you put the Child first,” you swallowed thickly, tears stinging your eyes. The all-too fresh memories flashed through your head; desperately looking over your shoulder at Din lying motionless, the heavy rise and fall of his chest the only thing signifying that he was still alive. The only parts of him with you as you were forced to leave had been the Child and the mythosaur necklace he had pressed into your hand. The gesture tugged at your heart just thinking about it. That necklace was a symbol of his protection, his love. “I wasn’t thinking. I just- I don’t want to lose you. I was scared, I—” He just nodded, the understanding and shared feelings showing in his scared, tired eyes. “I love you. Please know that.” He brought the hand he was grasping tightly to his chest, pressing it against his damp, warm skin. You could feel the steady beat of his heart against your palm, letting you relax. He was here, alive, with you.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner kar'ta,” his voice was gentle, but so strong. Direct. Spoken directly from his core. “Always.”

“I’m gonna guess that doesn’t mean ‘eat shit and die, laserbrain.’” You joked, pulling a chuckle from Din, warmth spreading all throughout your body at his words. The idea that this dangerous bounty hunter, so fierce he was considered the best in the parsec, would choose to be so vulnerable and gentle with you was unbelievable. His love was a privilege that could never be overstated.

The pair of you finished up your shower quite quickly, on account of you noticing Din’s eyes get heavier and heavier. Soon enough, the both of you were squeezed into the tiny cot, pressed up against each other. You snuggled into Din’s chest, the both of you on your sides, your legs trapped in a happy, tangled mess so you could be as close to each other as possible. No words were said, sleep having invaded the both of your minds far too much to form coherent words.

A sleepy kiss was pressed to your forehead, something you registered between consciousness and the limbo you were in as you were falling asleep. Before you fully gave in, you heard quiet snores coming from your Mandalorian next to you, whose arm was wrapped protectively around your waist, holding you against him. You didn’t need reassurances of “goodnight” or “I love yous” right now. Knowing the pair of you were still together, still alive, was more than enough for now.

mando’a translations:

cyar'ika: darling, sweetheart

ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner kar'ta: i love you, my heart

#din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic #fluff #my fics #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fluff

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shall-we-imagine · 5 years

Text

Peace. (Elias GoldsteinxLuca Orlem [Platonic ig] *AU*)

A/N: This was supposed to be just a drabble but as you guys might've noticed I cannot control myself and this is longer than a drabble 😂

Genre: Fluff/a bit angsty ig

Summary: Sometimes what you have to do and what you want to do are two opposite things.

(Third point of view)

"You don't understand how it's like! You've always been the perfect one!" Tears blurring his vision, the 11-year-old boy yells at his older brother, who had merely tried to calm him down and had nothing to do with the younger boy's problem whatsoever.

"Elias, could you please listen?" Maintaining a soft, calm voice, the teenager attempts to reason with the child. It wasn't rare for Elias to throw temper tantrums every now and then; being his older brothers, Alfonse and Klaus would always try to coax him into letting them take care of him and comfort him, yet sometimes, today being an example, Elias decides to remain as stubborn as could be and refuse to let them in.

"No!" The boy huffs, "I'm going to see Luca!" He turns towards the coat hanger, grasping his beige jacket and rushing towards the front door.

"Why do you keep saying that?! You know, if you leave now, father is gonna get-" slam! "..angry.." Sighing in frustration, Klaus runs his hand through his soft, curly locks. He contemplated following his brother out but decided against it; he knew he would be back soon, and a lot calmer as well. Perhaps he could find a way to ensure their father doesn't know his 11-year-old son just stormed off though..

"How many times do I have to get scolded for not being good enough?" Elias mutters, struggling to get his jacket on. "No matter what I do, it's always you could've done better." Puffs of smoke leave his freezing lips, and he mentally slaps himself for not taking time to bring along a scarf at least. It was harshly cold, but he had too much pride to go back and layer up before leaving again. Therefore, he forced his mind off the slight shivers of his body and the constant clashing of his teeth.

At the sight of the familiar tree stump, Elias's pace quickens subconsciously. It was their official meeting spot.

Sighing, Elias plops onto the wooden surface that had begun collecting tiny mushrooms all around it. "I miss when your bedroom and mine were merely two windows and a few inches apart. I wouldn't be freezing out here to see you." The blond grumbles to himself, or at least that's what he thought.

"Hey, it's not my fault! I do miss it too though." Elias's head snaps towards the green-haired boy currently taking seat on the same stump. "How have you been, Prince Elias?" The latter grins.

"Luca, you've known me since birth! I'm not royalty!"

"You could totally pass off as a prince though." You'd think the two would get tired of this argument, yet they didn't seem to be stopping any time soon.

"Whatever. I had another argument with my father." Elias confesses the reason of his visit, "and Klaus.."

"Man, why do you never visit just because you miss me?" Luca teases the younger boy.

"Because you're annoying." The Goldstein retorts.

"You're just too prideful to admit you missed me; that's all." Orlem smirks, earning a glare from the blond.

"You wish." Elias rolls his eyes, wishing the redness of his cheeks could slide with an excuse of how cold it is. He knew it was true. He always missed Luca but would never say it out loud; hell, he could barely admit it to himself.

"Anyway, you still haven't found a way to leave?" Tentatively, Elias shifts to a more sensitive topic. His gut twisted uncomfortably, as he waited for an answer. Yes or no, whichever it was; he couldn't feel true happiness. Deep down, he was aware he had to be happy for his friend if he'd found a way to escape this lonesome misery, but the selfish side of him set his heart ablaze at the sole thought of saying goodbye one more time. One last time.

Elias swore he caught Luca's smile drop a little, but it was back so fast he doubted himself. "I wouldn't be here if I'd figured something out, would I?" He jokes, but his younger friend knew him too well. He could sense the sadness within the statement.

"You'll figure something out; I'm sure." Elias attempts to comfort the other boy, hiding his own discomfort towards the statement.

"Ah, I'm a restless soul cuz my friend keeps having arguments with his family, so I need to be here for him. I haven't fulfilled my purpose!" Luca's playful self returns, as he dramatically sighs and throws the blame on his friend.

"That cannot be the reason!" Elias argues, but a flicker of guilt finds its way to his heart. "..right?"

"I don't know." Luca shrugs, "I mean I don't feel restless. I just feel bored most of the time, to be honest."

"Can you believe I've gone through this entire forest?" He chuckles, a glimmer of excitement coating his words.

"At least you found a way to enjoy yourself." The younger smiles.

"Mmhm." Luca nods.

An awkward silence fills the dark forest. They were ignoring the elephant in the room. For the first few month, they were both filled with glee at the pleasant accident- an unforseen reunion. However, now it was more of a burden; it was a mistake they couldn't fix- one they hadn't even committed in the first place but still had to find a solution for by themselves.

As much as they loved being able to see each other still, Luca was stuck in the middle of a forest, neither dead nor alive, and that wasn't the most pleasant of postions.

Even though he wasn't told what to do, Elias felt it somehow. The key to Luca's freedom was tightly clasped between the blond's hand, while he pretended not to find it.

Elias's head drops, fixing his eyes on the ground. A trail of ants was what he decided to stare at; he wasn't even sure how the moon was able to make the tiny creatures that clear to him; perhaps Elias's need to look at anything but Luca gave him super vision. Who knows.

His shaky voice barely audible, Elias lets out the thought he kept trapped for his own selfish needs. "I'm going to stop mourning you." He fought against the burning in his eyes and the lump at the back of his throat. For once, he was thankful for being late for a haircut, since his hair conveniently kept his currently moist eyes hidden.

The older lets out a nervous laugh. "Why are you mourning me, prince? I'm right here." He spreads his arms widely, in a way to show his presence.

"You're a spirit, Luca!" The smaller boy sniffles, unable to battle his own emotions.

"So? I'm still your friend, am I not?" Luca feigns hurt, but his goofy nature that always cheered up his friend had failed him this time. The younger remained silent, forcing Luca to speak up again, this time abandoning his humor and resorting to a different method.

"Elias, listen; I know you're scared I'll leave you alone, and I know you feel guilty about it, but it's normal, isn't it? Death is inevitable. Life had somehow managed to give us a chance to reunite- a chance for me to assure you my death wasn't your fault. It should've made you happier not more miserable." His green eyes stared intently at the blond, who for the first time in a while looked up from the ground.

"I know." The younger sniffles. "I want to set you free- I do, but I just miss you, Luca..I miss you so much. You never should've left me like this! I never should've agreed to your stupid idea that day!" By now, Elias's voice had gotten gradually louder. He was tired of bottling up his sorrows.

"Elias, I suggested we play here; my death was my fault- not yours, so for once, listen to me, and stop drowining yourself in guilt!"

"But..if I'd said no then maybe-"

Luca gets off the stump and stands facing Elias. "If you'd said no, I would've dragged you here either way, Elias. It's not like I would've listened. When have I ever?" Adding a small laugh, the older boy peeks at his friend's face.

"You never listen." Luca was left unsure how to feel or act; Elias had spoken the sentence and paired it with a laugh, yet streams of tears raced down his rosy cheeks.

Luca dropped to his knees, "Are you okay, Elias? I'm sorry." He didn't know what he'd done to gain such a conflicted reaction from the smaller guy, but he felt bad nevertheless.

Resolution in his eyes, Elias wipes away his tears (not that it did much to stop the streams spilling out his eyes anyway) and gives a bright smile to his friend. "I'm good. You're right. I'm glad we've had this chance; I'm glad I can say goodbye to you properly."

"I..I don't think you look very glad, Elias.." Luca gave a light, nervous laugh.

It was as if Elias could no longer hear his friend. "I will miss you, Luca, but it's time I let you go. It's time you get to rest."

"Wha..what are you talking about, Elias?" The older boy grew more nervous and confused.

"Goodbye, Luca." A pained yet genuine smile revealed itself on the blond's lips.

A reply was never given. Green eyes bore into purple ones; until eventually, Elias could no longer see the beautiful emeralds that were embedded in his memory by now. And for a few moments, the boy kept staring at the big, plain, lonely tree before him, trying to grasp the fact that he'd just freed his friend.

He was happy, wasn't he? His heart twisted in anguish, but he was content. In some strange, unexplainable way, he felt joy.

"Elias! My goodness, father is gonna kill us all if you don't come back with us now." Klaus rushes to the little boy's side, Alfonse following shortly after.

"Are you..crying?" The eldest asked in the softest voice.

"No." It was a blatant lie, everyone could tell. And even though he didn't try to seem convincing, no one questioned him.

Silently, all three walked out the forest.

Elias almost wanted to remain inside the green space, as if leaving was a confirmation he'd never see his friend again. But of course he couldn't. He followed his older brothers home. They didn't ask questions, and for that he was thankful.

By the time they reached their front door, Elias had cried his eyes dry. His siblings walked inside, but he stayed back for a few seconds and took one last look at the starry sky.

"I hope you're finally at peace." He whispered. Perhaps he'd gone mad, but he was sure he heard a familiar voice whisper back.

Same goes to you, Prince.

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justfangstvdto · 6 years

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Open Coffin | Chapter 09: “Fury Rising”

Pairing: Kol x Salvatore Sister!Reader

Chapter Summary: The reader and Stefan stole Klaus precious coffins on their retaliation trip and for once have the upper hand against their nemesis. Unlikely allies are made as they try to protect the precious cargo, that for some unknown reason is spelled shut by a witches spell.

Warnings: unbeta´d all mistakes are mine, canon divergence, typical tvd violence, swearing

Word count: 2978

Tags & Author Note at the bottom. Feedback is welcomed and appreciated.

Open Coffin Masterlist

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Samuel Johnson once wrote “Revenge is an act of passion; vengeance of justice. Injuries are revenged; crimes are avenged.”

But revenge is not always solely passionate, most times it is acted out of desperation. The need to avenge wrongdoings with the most primal thought in mind; An eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, blood must have blood - whatever you prefer to call it- with no other alternative in near sight.

People would argue that forgiveness, the common ground for the combat between past grievances and future healing, is the noble high ground, and while that might be true, one, you have never considered yourself as particularly noble and second, in your experience the taste of revenge, however fleeting it is, is undeniably sweet.

And lucky for you, forgiveness is the last thing on your mind...

“Open up you wooden piece of shit!” You clutch the axe in your hand before bringing it down, the blade ever so barely stopping right before it would scratch the coffin´s surface.”FUCK!!”

“Are you done?” Stefan asks, leaning against the cold stone wall.

It has been two days since you and Stefan snatched Klaus precious coffins he had been driving around in his very suspicious white van.

It's safe to say that you have never been this close to one, playing Klaus like a puppet and second, to Kol.

But like everything in your life, something has to get in your way. For whatever reason, the coffins are spelled shut, and there is no way to open them.

Which does not mean you won´t try your hardest.

“Does it look like I´m done?”

“Kind of.”

“Haha, you´re so funny. You know, I don't even understand why these witches decided to screw with me anyway. I was an ally to their kind back in the day.” You bring the axe down once again, hoping that your persistence would make a difference, when clearly, it won´t “Where's your loyalty now, huh?”

Even Bonnie, your newly made ally tried to get it open when she showed up after her dreams led her to the burned down house.Whatever is going on, witchy dreams are never a good sign.

At all.

“You and witches? You hate witches.”Stefan asks surprised, the sheer thought of you working with witches hard to grasp. You always seemed unsympathetic towards them. Or so he thought.

“I don't hate witches. I just hate what they can do to me. Especially the aneurysm. Ouch.” You remember the first time a witch gave you an aneurysm, it felt like your head was about to explode like fireworks. And not the good kind. “But I do have to say, I like Bonnie. She hates Klaus almost as much as we do. I like that in a person.”

You decide to give the axe one more try. You bring it over your shoulder, ready to break this coffin in half if you have to. You swing the axe down for the millionth time but as expected, it didn't hit the surface.

“I give up.” You throw the axe aside and let yourself fall on the floor, your back resting against the wall next to Kol’s coffin.

Stefan joins you on the cold floor, his jacket scratching against the textured stone wall. “Tell me about him,” he says glancing over at the coffin.

“About who?”

“Your boyfriend. Klaus brother.”

And there it is. You knew he must've eavesdropped.

“So you did hear my conversation with Klaus. Why didn't you say anything? You ask.

You knew Klaus didn't just start talking about Kol just for the fun of it. He must´ve seen

“I don´t know. Busy saving my buddy Klaus I guess.” He jokes.

To other people I might seem like his forced flipped switch is done and dealt with, but if your family is known for something is definitely to bury feelings under any form of wit.

“Ugh, don't remind me.” You roll your eyes, the thought of the epic failure that was supposed to be Klaus downfall makes you want to dig a hole and never come out. “Look, I know how this must look for you, but Kol is different. He's no-”

“Is that his name? Kol?” You nod “Do you know who the others are?” Stefan asks. He has been wondering who he's been carrying around.

“These two are either Elijah or Finn. Only this one, I don´t know who that is.” You say pointing to the coffin It's true you don't have the slightest idea who might be in that coffin. Perhaps its the spare coffin for Rebekah?

“How can you tell who is who?”

“I´m not sure with Elijah or Finn. But with Kol...I just feel it.”

“You...feel it?” he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He must think you´ve gone completely mad.

“Never underestimate the intuition of a woman, Stef.” You joke, earning the most exaggerated eye roll from your little brother. “Look, I know it sounds impossible to love anyone close to Klaus after everything he has put you through. But Kol hates Klaus as much as you do. Maybe more. No, definitely more. And I love him, Stefan. I really do.”

“So he's the reason you came back? Because Klaus has him?” He asks, his gaze evading yours by fumbling with his daylight ring.

For a fleeting glimpse there, young and vulnerable Stefan seeped through the cracks of his mask of bloodshed and vengeance. He must be worried that he's just a stepping stone to get Kol back. But of course, that's not true. You are glad you get to spend time with him after all these years. Even under these circumstances.

“Yes and no. he’s a very big factor as well, but you were and will always be my number one priority. If I had to run into a burning building to drag you out I'd do it. Again.” You say, the memories of that incident still so fresh in your memory as if they happened yesterday.

“But while we´re on the topic of me coming back to this god awful town, there is something you should know about that involves Elena and you're probably gonna hate me fo-” You stop midsentence, as two very familiar voices reach your ears. You always use your vampire hearing once in a while just to be safe of anyone that might be coming for you “Oh Jesus Christ.”

“What?”

You gesture to your ears and then upstairs, the chattering of Damon accompanied by Elena as they approach the ruins, reaching Stefan's ears. He looks at the coffins, the moment he lays eyes on them they disappear. These witches think fast.

Stefan?” Elena approaches the dark room with caution. Damon had to wait outside because the witch spirits resting in this house hate his guts and screwed with his daylight ring. Honestly, you can't blame them.

“Buh!” You whisper in her ear. Even a blood-sucking monster has to have fun, right?

“Y/N?! She jumps back in shock “What are you-” Elena begins, but Stefan's dramatic appearing from the shadows startles her.

“Elena, go away, you shouldn't be here,” Stefan tells her, his voice indifferent and cold.

“Stefan, I need your help.” She says, her voice shaking with worry and anticipation “Bonnie said that you would be here.”

“Well, Bonnie sucks at keeping secrets,” Stefan replies.

“Listen, you two need to give Klaus his family back.”

“Oh, really? Is that what we need to do?” You scoff. There is no chance you will let any of these coffins out of your sight again. Not until you know how to open them.

“Klaus compelled Jeremy to stand in front of a speeding car!” Elena argues.

“I don't really see how that involves us.” You shrug.

While you understand the need to protect your little brother, if Klaus resorts to such methods he is beyond desperate.

“Don't you get it?”You shrug again “Stefan, he's not gonna stop until he gets what he wants.”

“Elena, stop talking.” He rolls his eyes and you chuckle at his annoyed undertone he developed ever since Elena entered the room. “I'm not giving Klaus anything.” He shakes his head.

It must be hard for her to acknowledge the fact that even though Stefan flips his switch, and you're certain he did after Klaus set him free, he is not running back to her immediately.

“Are you listening to me? He's gonna kill Jeremy!”

“Not really my problem.” Stefan shrugs his shoulders.

Elena raises her hand and slaps Stefan with all the force her mortal being possesses.

Interesting. There is some fire in her after all. Who would´ve thought?

“And you can go to hell!! She yells at Stefan, then turns to you “Both of you.” she says on her way out.

“Already there, Elena. Already there.” You mutter, not caring if she even hears it or not.

You and Stefan only have the chance to share a look before Damon rushes through the house, his skin sizzling like bacon in a pan.

“Wow! That was impressive.” Stefan says in a sarcastic tone, almost sneering “But the coffins aren't here, so...You can go away now.”

“I don't care about the coffins.” Damon winced as his skin heals from the sunburns.”We need to talk.”

“Okay, let's talk.” You lean against the wall to your right “Tough, If you prefer a punch in the face again, let me know.”

“Nothing's ever easy with you two, is it?” Damon says before he attacks Stefan, vamp speeding him out of the house, so he doesn't have to watch out for the light shining through the windows.

You hurry after them, pushing Damon off of Stefan when he tries to hurt him with a wooden stake. Instead he plunges it in your chest, several inches away from your heart. Of course, he's not trying to kill you, just to hurt you.

Stefan punches him in the face as retaliation, but Damon is quicker and stakes him in the stomach with a tree branch.

Perhaps Stefan even wants him to let out his anger Damon has every right to be angry. From his point of view, Stefan blew the only chance of getting rid of Klaus. However, he doesn't know the whole story.

“That is for screwing up my plan! You stop me from killing Klaus and you steal his family! Why?? Doesn't make sense!” He yells and twists the branch and Stefan groans in pain. “Answer me!!”

“Stop it!!!!” You throw the piece of wood you retracted from your chest into Damon's shoulder before pushing him off of your little brother.

You wrap your hand around the branch and pull it out of Stefan's chest with one tug.

“Piece by piece Klaus took everything from me.” Stefan groans as you reach for his hand to pull him to his feet. “I'm doing the same to him. We both are.”

“But I had him, Stefan!” Damon snaps, pointing an accusing finger at Stefan “Why did you screw it up?”

“He did it to save you, you dumbass!!” You yell at him.

“What??” Damon freezes, the sickening feeling of realization settling within his bones “No. No way! You didn't do this for me.”

“He was one step ahead of us.” Stefan explains “If Klaus died, his hybrids would have killed you.”

“When are you going to get it through your head? Stop saving me!!” He yells at him and walks back to the house, his shoulder purposely colliding with yours.

But then he stops.

“Do you know what I can't figure out? Why steal the coffins?” He asks and faces both of you again.

“Even if it doesn't seem like it, Klaus´ siblings are a weak point we can exploit and use against him.” You tell him.

“Use against him to do what? You're not gonna kill him, you know how I know? 'Cause there was only one way to kill him and you blew that to save me.”

“You're wrong Damon.” Stefan shakes his head, reflecting Damon's usual denial “Klaus doesn't just get to live forever. There's another way. There has to be.”

There is. Two ways actually, one deadly one non-fatal but equally painful. But telling them isnßt an option. They would use the same weapon to get rid off all of them.

You can´t let that happen.

No, you won't let that happen. Even if it means you have to lie to them. Again.

“Fair enough.” Damon nods “But whatever you two are doing, I want in.”

“We don't need your help.” You shake your head. Planning anything with Damon most likely ends in a disaster. History speaks for itself.

“Really? Last time I checked you're hiding in a haunted house.” He argues and cocks his head towards the burned ruins.

“So? We like spirits. And not only the alcoholic kind.” You

“You're going after Klaus; Y/N.” Damon needles reminds you, as if you didn't know that already. “You have to be cutthroat and devious. I'm so much better at that than you two.”

Oh if you only knew, brother. If you only knew...

“Come on.” Damon continues “What do you say? If you're gonna keep saving my life at least make it for a good reason.”

“You want in?”

“Yeah.”

Stefan looks at you, waiting for your reaction. Having Damon on board would certainly be easier as facing his fury, but there is also the risk of Damon being….well Damon.

“Okay, fine.” You sigh “But it's just us three. Your precious Elena stays out of it, alright? Completely. If this is going to work we have to stick together. No matter what happened or will happen. This is the only advantage we have on Klaus. We can´t let anyone screw it up.” You look at both of them and while Stefan nods, Damon rolls his eyes. How typical “No matter the consequences”

“Fine. Whatever, it's a deal.” Damon sighs, his foot impatiently tapping on the floor.

“Good.” You nod your head; ”Follow us.”

“Wait. I'm not so...welcome in there.”

“Don't you worry Damon. We all want the same thing.

You and Stefan lead him to the bad lid and dusty room and Damon follows close behind eager to know where you might have hidden the coffins.

“Have a look.” Stefan gestures to the empty room.

“What? Klaus is allergic to dust?” Damon jokes and looks at Stefan with a questioning look on his face.

“Hm...Look again.” You tell him and he promptly does as you ask, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

“Witch spirits hate Klaus as much as we do. They're using their powers to hide the coffins.” Stefan explains.

“So even if he comes in the house…”

“ ...he won't be able to find them.” Stefan finishes his sentence and Damon smiles, enjoying this hide and seek already.

While Damon ran back to bring Elena the news of his epic misjudgement, Stefan decided to dig deep into the lore, trying to find a way to open the locked coffins. And you, well….you don't want to let the coffins out of your sight. Especially, of course, the one with Kol in it.

He has been lost for decades upon decayed and now he's so close, so undeniably close with only a wooden barrier separating you.

You close your eyes for a mere moment, perhaps for a breath or two, leaning on the coffin supports. The air suddenly feels heavier as questions upon questions fill your head, the silence forcing them out of the shadows.

Why would the witches close the coffins? Will working with Damon work? Will they forgive you if they found out what you did? Will you ever see Kol again´?

But when you open your eyes again, instead of the pale, rigged surroundings, a different view lies before you. A beautiful night sky stretches itself above your head, the stars twinkling in shining as bright as they can while a street parade strolls through the streets, the music filling the silent night air.

You don't have to turn around to know where you are. How could you ever forget this night? But how the hell did you get to New Orleans, on the same rooftop of the Mikaelson house? Is this a dream?

You smile as the song you and Kol danced to start playing on the old Grammophon. You breathe in the feeling of tranquillity and wholesomeness spreading throughout your body.

This has always been your happy place. No matter what your immortal life threw at you, you always had this memory to come back to. And being here in person, or whatever this is, couldn´t be more perfect.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes.” Your heart jumps at the familiar voice, you can feel it hammering in your chest. This great pounding, this great pressure, every beat now magnified.

Could it be….

You turn around and your heart now completely sinking to your knees, your eyes fixated on the person in front of you.

“Kol?”

To be continued….

A/N: Well isn´t this a mean cliffhanger ;) Sorry not sorry. I do hope you liked this chapter though!! I know it was a long time coming again, but I promise I will post the next chapter a lot quicker now that I seem to be out of the bad writing hole. Please PLEASE let me know what you think. Feedback fuels my writing like nothing else!! Also, I hope to see you next chapter as well! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day/night!

Open Coffin Tags: @shadyladyperfection @laitalianax3 @newurleans @originalbish98 @christinalibertymikaelson @acourtofhopeanddreams @bonniebird @imnoaingeal @onlygodcanjudgeme-sh @vaniileiinkeks @relmi-llorrac @piercethepottorff @maliae14 @5-seconds-of-animals @captain-amelia-bradley @rock-n-magick @flymeawayworld @givemesomehybrid @mikealsonlover @nuteller28 @fandoms-fandoms-everywhere99 @drkplum @fandooomqueenforyou @free-the-fangirl @clockworkballerina @twisted1ginger @superwholocksociopath474 @pacifyprincess @mustachio1616 @thealyana @sandyclaws @unicorntrooper @buckysummers @sanity-is-overratedxp @akshi8278 @graysonmalfoy @woodworthti666 @elenavaldez09 @akshi8278 @sincerelystiles

#kol x reader #salvatore sister #tvd #tvd imagine #the vampire diaries #the originals #kol mikaelson

162 notes · View notes

stabigail · 6 years

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11 questions meme

1tagged by @myrkks, tagging....... @pentaughast @ghoste-catte @beamkatanachronicles anyone who wants to ig :V

1. how would you describe your writing style or “voice” as a writer?

HONESTLY i still feel like i’m growing into my style, lol! and i often feel inconsistent, but i think part of that is a lack of confidence, still, forever #justwritingproblems. being more realistic, i would say that i tend to write from a very firm point of view and my narrators tend to be quite unreliable; i also tend to focus a lot on sensory details. generally i’m very much a stream of consciousness writer! it’s what i love 2 do.

2. do you prefer to write in first person, second person, or third person, and why? which tense do you prefer?

it depends on what i’m working on, and i definitely flip-flop some, but i almost always write in third person. for me, first person works really well for Very Unreliable Narrators who are trying to skew their story in a certain light, or for stories that are literally one person talking to other people. i love love love first person in podcasts! alice isn’t dead is probably my favorite podcast that utilizes first person, and i really love the depth of emotion that it conveys as a result, so i am more likely to us first person for projects like that.

generally, though, i struggle with first person because it limits narration in a way that i struggle with at times. second person kind of creeps me out as a writer because i feel like a soulbonder?? WHICH IS NOT A KNOCK ON SECOND PERSON, i think it makes for beautiful work, but it’s just not for me. so 3rd person limited is my favorite and has been for a while!

as for tense, i used to write exclusively in past tense but now i write exclusively in present tense and i couldn’t even tell you why. is it because the focus on the present makes for more dynamic writing? is it because i’m pretentious? is it both? likely.

3. what is one thing that inspires/motivates you as a writer these days?

oh man haha . . . spite . . . no not really, it’s a little spite but more feeling a lack and a motivation to fill it! my original work right now is based around a lot of feelings i have about both personal and global uncertainty, and while it isn’t a political piece at all, i’ve definitely found motivation to explore topics that i wish were easier to talk about. when it comes to fandom stuff, it’s usually “i love this pairing, but i never see work for it” or “i love this pairing, but i wish there was more diversity of work around it,” because i like filling gaps and also just always fall for pairings few other people care about. i’m also deeply motivated to write character exploration pieces for fandom because holy shit, nothing makes me happier than picking apart a character’s motivations and rearranging them in a new form. i’m the sylar of other people’s characters.

that being said, sometimes my motivation is “why are there only like 2 smut fics of this lesbian pairing and 238974293874 of this pairing of 2 dudes” and that is spite and i’m not sorry for it.

4. what is one of your strengths as a writer?

uhh,,,, i think i have a good attention to detail? is that a cop-out answer? maybe. i have a good grasp of figurative language, i think, and i actually am quite proud of that now that i think about it. i used to write super purple prose, and through the past few years i’ve been able to really neaten my writing up so that it’s . . . still flowery! always will be! not sorry! but it’s not overbearingly so, and the figurative language i use enhances the story rather than drowning it. shoutout to @pentaughast who has been writing with me for like five years and giving me feedback until my writing stopped being a horrible disaster thicket of metaphors, you’re a pal.

5. what is something you’d like to improve about your writing?

(rolls out scroll)

no but seriously: my number one thing to improve right now is learning to stop editing while i write. every writer is their own worst critic, but i will literally write half a sentence and then go back and change the whole thing, because i’m convinced that everything has to be Perfect the First Time. which is in fact a microcosm of my entire personality. so, anne, don’t edit while you write! also, your first draft is not your final draft! i don’t feel a need to just barf out a certain number of words per writing session, but i do think it’ll benefit me to have momentum and iron out kinks later.

6. what is one genre you enjoy writing in, and why?

hmmm this is interesting because genre is such a broad and subjective thing. that said: urban fantasy is and has always been my jam! i wouldn’t say i’m particularly good at it simply because 1) it is a super vague genre with few hard and fast rules, so i’m not sure how much of my stuff is urban fantasy even, and 2) i’ve been struggling a lot with writing original stuff over the past few years, which is where i have written urban fantasy stuff in the past.

overall i enjoy writing in fantasy or fantasy/sci-fi most of all genres, but never high fantasy because it causes me physical agony. aspects of f/sf i like a lot are basically f/sf as a mirror to our world or otherwise connected to our world (without necessarily using f/sf components as a substitution for actual discussion of oppression cuz, nah,) as well as f/sf as satire, that is my FAVE. discworld (t. pratchett) was the first fantasy series i really locked onto and it was v formative, obviously; also gaiman, stiefvater, jemisin. this question was not about my influences but too bad here they are!!!!!!!!!!

7. what would be the biggest compliment someone could give you about your writing?

the biggest, biggest compliment would be: while i was reading this, i forgot the world existed. because that has always been the biggest thing for me as a reader! the way reading can just take you somewhere, so no matter how shitty things might be in your actual situation, you can just take a break from that and follow bilbo around, or whatever. another really excellent compliment that i actually have gotten (both in writing fic and rp) is “i can hear their voice,” either in narration or dialogue. that’s huge! and it makes me really happy to hear. basically i would love for my writing to be an immersive experience for people, and that’s what i’m always striving to improve.

8. what is one piece of advice you’d give someone experiencing writer’s block or feeling stuck with their writing?

READ

idk, for me, fighting my writer’s block literally does not work. just staring at a piece of paper or a computer screen makes me upset and frustrated. reading, though, is both enjoyable and relatively passive; you don’t have to come up with ideas, you just have to take in someone else’s. as a writer, too, you can read both as an audience member and as a fellow writer observing. what does this author do that works or doesn’t? how does this style work in this context where it might not in another? how does it relate to your style? etc.

more generally, do something nice for yourself cuz sometimes that will boost your creative spirit. self-care is huge!

9. what is one piece of advice you wish someone had given you when you started writing?

lskdjfskld uh . . . don’t follow any of the advice people give you because most of it either only works for specific people or is entirely bullshit? i suppose more specifically i wish someone had been more supportive of fantasy/sci-fi as a legitimate genre with meaning, although of course that is a societal view rather than a specific one that surrounded me as a kid. it’s shitty, though, because until fairly recently i viewed the type of writing i enjoyed as “less than”/less meaningful than like, i don’t know, anything written by racist old dead white guys.

also, young adult fiction is fucking valid and doesn’t make you a less “serious” writer. i, a Fucking Grown Up, am still most captivated by YA fiction because there are fewer restrictions on it and writers tend to experiment more and, most importantly, because stories about transformation and trying to figure out who you are will never not be compelling.

10. what is a common piece of writing advice you disagree with, and why?

rubs hands together

one: write what you know. what the fuck is that, i want to know who came up with it because fuck? you??? definitely it’s fine to write about things that you have a personal perspective about, or to write in a way that reflects your worldview or emotions or whatever. but write what you know is literally the stupidest, most limiting garbage, and i have met so many grown ass adults who believe in it so strongly. curse that mess.

two: you must construct x type of work in y format following z formula. a lot of times this is really great and works well for people, but other times it can be, again, really limiting. beginning-middle-end is great, but even that can be inappropriate for certain stories, depending on what they are? for me, strictly following writing formulas made me overly focused on “”accuracy”” and less focused on writing what i enjoyed.

three: this one isn’t quite as cut and dry as the previous two, but: write protagonists that people can relate to. here’s the thing: i feel like this often gets translated to “protagonists that are charmingly aware of their own assholeishness, totally perfect and always right, or bland,” and it’s kind of a shitty trap to fall into? this is another reason i love unreliable narrators, bcause you can have that nuance and imperfection without the entire story being about how shitty the character is. their imperfection is part of the story and perhaps even a driving force, but they aren’t just sort of a paper cutout used to drive the story along. hello i’m anne and i struggle writing protagonists.

11. what writing projects are you working on these days?

excited buzzing. a couple! i am really shy about talking about original stuff, but i am working on scripts for (tentatively) a podcast about a very apathetic and cynical gal who is one of a very few survivors of a series of natural disasters and also may?be the one who made them happen. Whoopsie.

fanfiction-wise, i am working on finishing . . . christ on a raft let me count. four! one-shots. there’s a fifth one that i wrote 10k words of in like 2015 and still haven’t finished and i don’t know if i’ll trash it or not lol. regardless, i am working on those! there is a fic that i started working on a while back that was meant to be a multi-chapter fic called reverse about giorno tripping into vampirism and fugo having 0 idea what to do about it; i’ve let it dangle for ages, but i am slowly fleshing out the plot again and getting it going. i’m very excited to do this! i love giorno having to figure out how to vampire and i love fugio.

finally, @relares and i are starting to work on a reset fugiomis fic which, weeps into tea, will kill us both.

#writing meme #writing #??? i dont know what else to tag this i never do memes help

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la-sorciere-fleur · 7 years

Note

6, 24, 26, 28 with John please. Can it be smut where the reader gets jealous of his and lizzies friendship x

PROMPT: “I don’t want to see you with her again!” - “Make me!” - “I’ll make you scream. That’s a promise.” - “You’re dripping wet.”

PAIRING: John Shelby x Reader

WARNINGS: NSFW - smut, swearing.

WORD COUNT: 2811

A/N: I’m really sorry about the delay, Anon! I’m also really sorry because I’m not 100% confident about this piece. But I think I’ll review it in a few days and make some changes. I hope it’s bearable enough to enjoy for now though and isn’t totally cringeworthy 😅 💕

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Your mind and your body were at war with one another. Every sense tingled at John’s touch, while your mind screamed that you were supposed to be angry at him. The rage and jealousy still bubbled up inside of you at the thought of his earlier behaviour with Lizzie fucking Stark.

You hated the way he was around her and you knew that he still had feelings for her. John always said that they were just friends, but you weren’t a fool. He would have married her if it wasn’t for Tommy and despite her lies and deceit, he still wanted her. You just knew it.

You’d seen it in the way he smiled and flirted with her earlier. The way his eyes raked over her form and how he grinned and softly laughed at the words she said.

Yeah, sure, they were just friends.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your back arched as John’s lips teased the sensitive skin of your neck. For a brief moment you forgot all about your anger towards him, but then the memories of your earlier exchange came back to haunt you and pull your mind back to reality.

You’d kept your envy bottled up inside until your work at the Shelby’s gambling den was done for the day. Then, you’d left without a single word to John, not even sparing him a glance. He’d cornered you at home, approaching you from behind and kissing along your neck and shoulder.

Your complete lack of response - other than to tense up - had ensured that John quickly caught onto the fact that you weren’t happy with him about something. After some prodding from him, you’d soon blurted out that Lizzie was your problem.

“I don’t want to see you with her again!” You had hissed angrily at him.

“Y/N,” he’d tried to reason with you. “She’s my friend. If I wanted Lizzie as anything else, I wouldn’t be here with you.”

“You’re always flirting with her, John,” you had argued. “I’m not blind!”

Backwards and forwards the two of you had argued, but you refused to listen to his rational reassurances. John was more a man of action than a man of words though, and he quickly grew sick of arguing with you.

Instead, he had cut you off with a heated kiss, deciding to show you how he wanted you instead. Much to your annoyance, it worked for the most part. You were still fuelled by anger and jealousy, but the way even the simplest touch from him made you feel, left you at his mercy.

Presently, John’s fingers traced a tantalising path down your sides, over your waist and hips, causing you to shiver the lower he got. Finally, his hands settled on your thighs, prying them apart. His lips continued to tease your neck and collarbone, leaving you a breathless mess.

Your mind continued to fight against him and you resisted his touch, pushing him back slightly with an angry glint to your gaze. He remained as calm and confident as ever, his lips quirking up into a playful smirk as he regarded your actions with mild amusement.

John knew you couldn’t resist him or stay angry for too long and it only infuriated you even more. You wanted him to really listen this time and prove to you that Lizzie didn’t mean anything to him anymore, rather than just brushing over it until the next time it upset you enough.

“I meant what I said, John,” you told him, slightly breathless but trying to be stern. “I hate seeing you with her.”

“Calm down, Y/N,” he murmured in his deep voice, pressing close to you again.

“Make me!” You retorted challengingly.

John simply grinned, completely pinning you down onto your shared bed. You could feel the hard muscles of his body pressing up against your softer curves. Reaching up, he brushed a stray strand of hair from your face and leant down to speak lowly into your ear.

“I’ll make you scream, Y/N,” he spoke huskily. “That’s a promise.”

You shivered at his words, biting down onto your bottom lip. He pulled back to look at you, his gaze burning with desire and before you knew it he was stealing a kiss from your lips, his fingers caressing your inner thighs.

Instinctually, your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling his hips closer to you. The kiss was hungry and passionate, your nails raking down his back as his tongue explored your mouth. You could feel John as he pressed against you - hard and eager.

It was impossible to stifle your moans as he bucked his hips, rubbing himself against your core and you felt him smirk into the kiss.

“That’s right,” he murmured, moving his kisses back down to your neck. “I want to hear you, Y/N.”

His words reminded you of his earlier promise - I’ll make you scream. You felt defiance surge through you at the memory. He still hadn’t addressed your anger and annoyance towards his relationship with Lizzie and yet, he still expected you to let him have all the control.

You quietened down immediately, refusing to show the affect he had on you. He took your sensitive skin in between his lips, sucking hard, but you bit down the natural gasp that threatened to spill forth from your lips. He nipped at the skin with his teeth and you knew it would definitely bruise, leaving his mark on you for the days to come.

An odd sense of satisfaction ran through you at this, knowing that Lizzie would undeniably see it and know exactly where it came from. It pacified you slightly, knowing that John wanted to mark you as his alone. However, despite him being a man of action, you were at the point where you needed words as well for your reassurance.

John continued to kiss down your body, his soft lips teasing your every nerve and his fingers threatening to make you cry out in pleasure - just as he wanted. You stifled your moans and as he began to unbutton your blouse he looked up at you with a cocky grin.

“I said I want to hear you, love,” he spoke in his low voice.

You just stared defiantly back at him and he quickly caught on. Bending his head, John never once broke eye contact as he pushed your brasserie out of the way and captured your nipple in between his full lips. You bit down on your lip, only encouraging him on further as he accepted your unspoken challenge.

John was determined to fulfil his promise, no matter how stubborn you decided to be.

He moved his gaze downwards, devoting his full attention to your breasts. You shivered involuntarily as his tongue flicked out, licking around your stimulated nipple. One hand gently squeezed your other breast, massaging it as his thumb rubbed over the other nipple. His free hand moved down your body, disappearing under your skirt and pushing down your bloomers until he found what he was looking for.

You couldn’t hold back a moan as his fingers gently moved past your folds and ran over your entrance and up to your clit. He moved his mouth from your breast and looked directly into your eyes, his expression full of a smug amusement.

“Hmm,” he hummed, piercing you with his fiery gaze. “You’re dripping wet.”

His words and tone of voice taunted you, showing that no matter how hard you tried, you were completely at his mercy. Your head fell back onto the pillow, breaking his eye contact with you. You willed yourself to be resilient and show him that you were stronger than he thought.

Slowly and teasingly, John began to remove all of your clothing, kissing his way down your body and when he reached your lower stomach you knew that your control was wavering. You stopped him, placing your hands on his shoulders and sitting up.

John looked at you with interest, wondering what you had planned, but you simply guided him to lie down and swapped your positions. Settling yourself in his lap, you began to remove his own clothing. You played with the collar of his shirt as you unbuttoned it, pressing several kisses along his neck and inhaling the intoxicating scent of his aftershave.

“I’m not going to let it go,” you mumbled against his skin.

“Y/N…” he warned, gripping your hips tightly.

“I’m just asking you to stop being so friendly with her,” you argued.

You removed the upper layers of his clothing, kissing down his chest and feeling his muscles flex underneath your touch. You made quick work of undoing his trousers and releasing his hard cock, immediately wrapping your hand around it.

John groaned in pleasure, always loving your touch and the way it made him feel. You pumped up and down several times, pressing more lingering kisses to his chest. John’s hand found its way to your hair, his fingers grasping it tightly and guiding your head downwards.

You looked up at him cheekily, giving one slow, wide lick up his erect cock. John’s breathing quickened at your action and you swirled your tongue around the tip. You knew he wanted you to wrap your lips around it and bob your head up and down like a good girl - and you would, just not yet.

“You haven’t answered me,” you said to him.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N!” He groaned in frustration, his head falling back onto the pillows.

You moved your fingers down to his balls, lightly caressing them as your mouth continued to tease his hard cock. You sucked down onto the head before moving your mouth down and over it. You had practiced the action many times and were able to get to the base without gagging, encasing his entire thick, long shaft in your mouth.

You sucked down on the base and moved back up, slightly increasing your pressure as you moved upwards, until releasing the head with a pop and licking around it once again. John’s breathing was heavy and he looked up at you through half-lidded eyes. You sat back, regarding him seriously.

“I can’t stand it, John,” you revealed. “I feel like I can’t compare to her.”

He took a moment, conflicted between feeling turned on by your actions and frustrated with your insistence that he listen to you about Lizzie. Eventually though, John flipped you both over, trapping you underneath him once again.

His fingers traced up and down your waist as he leant down until his lips were inches from yours and his gaze burned into you. He pressed a quick, teasing kiss to your lips before smirking smugly.

“You’re a bloody fool, Y/N,” he chuckled. “Lizzie can’t compare to you.”

In one short moment, he was kissing you heatedly and had entered you fully, his thick cock stretching your inner walls. You moaned into his kiss and wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing him in impossibly deeper.

Your mind was racing, trying to process whether John Shelby had actually just said those words to you, or if it was your imagination. It was something completely uncharacteristic for him to say, but you knew that you’d pushed and pushed, showing that you wouldn’t settle for any less.

John showed that he meant his words, with the way he groaned at the feeling of you around him and kissed you heatedly. You wrapped your arms around him, moaning at the feeling as he thrusted in and out, his movements deep and precise.

You both broke the kiss fairly quickly, not able to control your breathing and getting lost in the sensations. Your nipples brushed against his hard chest as his powerful thighs allowed him to continue pounding hard into you.

John nipped and sucked at whatever part of your body was most easily accessible to him at the time - whether it be your neck, shoulder, arm, breast or somewhere else entirely. You whimpered at his touch, squirming slightly underneath him.

“Y/N,” he grunted as he thrust into you powerfully. “Come on, love. I want to hear you.”

You grinned at his words, your eyes shut as you became lost in the pleasure. You knew that your moans and cries turned him on more than anything, but still you shook your head in denial of his request.

“Don’t tease me, love,” he murmured against your neck.

“You said you’d make me scream, John,” you replied. “I want you to deliver on that promise.”

He pulled back to look at you and a renewed spark of inspiration had come alight in his eyes. Your grin widened and your heels dug into his ass, causing him to thrust hard into you once again. John pulled further back, using his knees to steady himself as his movements became even more precise.

Your back arched and a low, guttural moan escaped you at the sheer dominance radiating off him. John always elicited new and delicious feelings within you, but nothing compared to when he completely embraced the power he had over you, like this.

His hands ran down your body, moving over the swell of your breasts and teasing your sensitive nipples with the slightly calloused texture of his fingertips. They moved down your stomach, before reaching your mound and finally your clit.

Another moan escaped you as he rubbed over it in slow, firm circles and you didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened at the sounds you made from his touch alone. His pace was quickening as his hard cock pounded in and out of you continuously.

Still, you didn’t scream, much to John’s frustration and annoyance. He began to lose any semblance of a controlled pace, his own desire peaking, but he didn’t want to cum until he’d gotten what he wanted. Leaning down closer to you, his nipples pressed against your own and his teeth nipped at you earlobe.

“You’re mine, Y/N,” he murmured deeply into your ear.

“Yes,” you agreed. “And you’re mine too, John.”

He simply smirked, pressing a sloppy kiss to your cheek as rammed into you, causing the bed to creak loudly from the force of it. He moved his mouth back down to your neck, his hips bucking furiously into you, fast and deep as his teeth sank into your skin.

Your mouth gaped open and your back arched as the intense build up of arousal rose higher and higher within you. His long, thick cock constantly stretching you and hitting the most delicious spots made your toes curl. You were close and so was he. Despite how closely he was pressed up against you, his thumb still rubbed furiously at your clit.

It was when he slowed down, rubbing one slow, firm circle over the sensitive, swollen nub, that you finally screamed out his name. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and John shuddered at both the feeling of you tightening around his cock and the tantalising sounds leaving your thoroughly kissed lips.

Every inch of your body seemed to be branded by him. His marks covering your skin, his scent mingled with yours and the way your bodies were so intimately connected. John loved it - you were his girl and he loved any reminder of that fact.

With a few more hard thrusts, John followed, thrusting deeply into you and feeling his release wash over him. You fit him perfectly, your tight walls clenching around him and your soft body contrasting against his harder one.

John bent down, showering you with kisses on your cheeks, neck and collarbone. Your fingers became tangled in the small amount of hair on the top of his head, keeping him close to you for the time being. You let your mind catch up with his words from earlier, allowing yourself to feel reassured about his relationship with Lizzie.

John wouldn’t say something like that if he didn’t mean it. If he really wanted Lizzie, he wouldn’t bother to hide it from you and if he said she couldn’t compare to you, he meant it. Despite your jealousy, you knew that John was a straightforward kind of guy. He wouldn’t bother lying or hiding, so you knew that you could trust him.

He moved your bodies, rolling over to his side and bringing you to lie over his chest. You smiled down at him, your fingers running softly over his chest as you bent down to kiss him passionately. He took hold of your hips in a tight grasp and you straddled him, feeling his softening cock against your still dripping entrance.

It was comfortable like that between the two of you. There were no more doubts in your mind and you just allowed yourself to enjoy the moment.

Just you and John.

#john shelby x reader #john shelby prompt #john shelby imagine #john shelby fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic

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rocky-alex · 7 years

Text

Motels Won’t Cut It Anymore

Word count: 1079

Warnings: Nothing for this chapter

Chapter four: Motel California

Mike flew across the room, hitting the opposite wall hard. Sam ran across the room to your side, grabbing your arm and pulling you up.

“We need to get out of here, can you walk?” he asked. You nodded while still looking at Mike. He was getting up, slowly. Dean was standing between him and you, watching his every move. Mike laughed again. It was a horrible sound, cold and downright evil.

You didn’t get to see what happened to Mike as Sam pulled you out the door and towards their car. Outside in the lot you pulled your arm out of his grasp.

“What the hell just happened in there?” you asked, out of breath and hurting all over, but still needing to know. Sam looked over your shoulder at the door. You could hear crashes coming from inside, like a big fight was going down.

“Listen, I don’t have time to explain right now. Please get in the car and wait there.” Sam gestured to the back of the car but you refused to move.

“No! Not until you answer.” Sam huffed, clearly already fed up with you.

“Okay, fine,” he said, reloading the shotgun as he walked around you back to the reception. “Just wait here then.” Before you had a chance to object again he left.

After that the sound of fighting didn’t continue for long, and soon the brothers both walked out. Dean had a cut on his head, the knife in his hand covered in blood. Sam, to your surprise, was laughing. He had your bag in his hand and tossed it over to you.

“Seriously, Dean, that thing wasn’t even one of the big shots. How the hell did he end up straddling you, petting your face?” Dean grumbled like a sourpuss and wiped the knife off on the sleeve of his jacket.

“What was that?” Sam asked, grinning. Dean gave him a death glare, and turned to face you. You had no idea what to do now. Run away screaming? Pass out? Puke? Crap your pants maybe?

What the hell had just happened?

“Hey,” Dean said, snapping his fingers infront of your face. “You okay?” All you could get out was a weak gurgling sound. You held you bag tightly to your chest.

“Um, okay, sooo…” Dean looked at a loss for what to do. Sam took over.

“Do you need a ride home or can you ride your bike?” That got your attention.

“What do you mean ‘a ride home’?” you asked. “You’re not going to explain what just happened?” You didn’t care anymore, you couldn’t go on not knowing. Hearing them talk about ghosts and actually getting attacked by something clearly not human were two very different things. Sam and Dean looked at each other.

“You wanna take this one, Sammy?”

“D- ugh…”

“Okay, good,” Dean said and walked around you to the trunk of the car. Sam sighed and turned to you.

“Okay, first thing you need to know about us is that we’re the good guys. We hunt monsters. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, demons, you name it.” You felt the colour drain from your face as he mentioned ghosts. Either Sam didn’t notice or he didn’t care. “That thing back there, that looked like your boss, was a demon.”

“Wh-what did you do to him?” you asked, your voice shaking. You heard the trunk slam shut behind you.

“We killed it,” Dean said, going around you again to stand next to his brother.

“But… How? How do you kill a demon?” Dean gave you a serious look.

“It’s not easy,” he answered. “They’re extremely dangerous and don’t exactly lie down and just take it. You were lucky, this one wasn’t nearly as strong as others we’ve come across.” Your eyebrows shot up.

“Lucky? I was lucky?” Dean’s face tightened at the tone in your voice. “My boss just tried to kill me, because of you two I might add, and you say I’m lucky?” Your voice was getting louder and louder with each word you spoke.

“Wait what?” Dean interrupted your tirade. “Because of us? The hell is that supposed to mean?” He was frowning now, looking like he wanted to grab you and shake the answers out of you.

“That’s what set him off, your names. I’d noticed he was acting weird, but didn’t think much of it.” Dean turned away from you, running a hand down his face.

“What?” you asked.

Something was wrong here. Like that… thing… reacting to their names was something bad. Like really bad, but they didn’t want to show it in front of you. The brothers seemed to do some silent communicating before Sam walked around the car to the trunk and Dean spoke again.

“Listen, Y/N , we need to get you somewhere safe. That demon was alone here but we can’t be sure that there aren’t more coming.”

“Wait, why do I have to leave? They have no idea who I am.” Dean raked his eyes across the ground before looking back up at you.

“Well, easy version is that you met us, you know our names and our faces. That’s enough to have painted a big bright bullseye on your back.” Great. Just, great.

“Okay, fine. I’ll go with you.” Dean got a surprised look on his face, like he expected more arguing.

“Wow, that was easy.” Rolling your eyes you walked over to your bike.

“Hey, what are you doing?” You didn’t turn back, but kept walking, digging the keys out of your bag.

“Let me ask you something, Dean,” you said. “Would you ever leave that car of yours behind?” You heard a distinctly unmanly gasp at your suggestion, and grinned as you put on your helmet. After straddling the bike you held your breath as you turned the key. The engine started without a hitch.

“It’s alive!” you exclaimed, raising your hands to the sky. A second later you heard Sam snort, and mutter, “You go, Frankenstein.”

“What?” Dean asked.

“Never mind…” You grinned as you heard the car doors close. You turned on the headphones in your helmet and your music started up.

“You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave.”

You smiled bitterly at the song lyric, and pulled down the visor. You left the parking lot and drove down the country road, the brothers following behind, and left the motel in the dust, for good this time.

Note: The reason I chose a last name is because the insert code for the last name didn’t work, and because it has significance later on. Hope you like the story so far :)

#supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural reader insert #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester and reader #dean winchester and reader #dean's baby

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raiseyourcups · 3 years

Text

Cabur

Chapter Twenty-Two

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Aili Verdella) Warnings: blood, injury, fire, cursing, the usual suspects being awkward and argumentative Word Count: 6k (it's a long one today) Also on AO3

Masterlist//Main Masterlist

Summary: Mando is dying and there's only so much Aili can do without convincing him to remove his helmet. Not to mention the Storm Troopers and Moff Gideon still breathing down their necks. IG-11 just needs to hurry up and get the vent into the sewers open.

Aili cursed quietly as she all but emptied out the entire contents of her med bag. She was not going to be able to get annoyed with Mando being out of charges now because somehow she hadn’t brought any bacta spray with her. She knew that Cara only had bacta patches and not many since she had used at least one on Karga the night before.

“I’m not gonna make it. You need to go,” Mando said, his breathing a little labored as he tried to speak through the pain.

“Shut up, you’re gonna be fine,” Aili replied quickly, bringing her hand back up to try to feel exactly where Mando’s wound was. She tried to hold back another curse when she realized that it had to be inside the helmet, further than she could reach without removing it. "You are not dying here."

"I am,” Mando said, wincing in pain behind his helmet. He was glad she couldn’t see his face or the blood covering it now. He knew she wouldn’t be able to heal him while he still wore the helmet and removing it wasn’t an option. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t. Not if surviving meant he would be turning his back on the only life he had known since he was a child.

"No, you are not dying on a dirty cantina floor, just let me take off the helmet so we can fix your stupid head." Aili went to lift the helmet when Mando grabbed her by the wrists as tightly as he could while in pain. She let out an annoyed growl but let him lower her hands anyway. She wouldn’t do that without his permission but she didn’t want him to die either.

“No, leave me. Make sure Little Green is safe.” Mando hoped that using the nickname Aili had given the kid would make her take pause.

“He’ll be fine because we’ll both be there to protect him,” Aili reasoned with him. He was just being dramatic like when he asked for her to give cover fire rather than use her numerous skills to help take down the troopers outside.

“No, you need to go,” Mando said, having to pause a few times despite the short sentence. He had yet to let go of Aili's wrists but he was simply holding them now. She hadn’t even tried to pull them away for once which was a surprise to him.

“Bantha shit, I’m not leaving you here because you’re not dying.” Aili didn’t know how many more times she needed to say it for it to get through his thick head. Obviously it wasn’t clicking for him but she was going to blame the blood loss and probable concussion for now.

Mando let go of one of her wrists to pull something from around his neck off, handing it to Aili. She was surprised to see it almost matched the medallion that the Armorer had given her all those months ago. “When you get to the Covert, you show them that...tell them it’s from Din Djarin and that the foundling was in our protection, the Armorer and o-your ade will vouch for you.”

“You tell them yourself,” Aili said stubbornly. If she had to drag him down into the Covert herself. She knew Cara would help if she asked. She missed the way he tripped over his words figuring that the blood loss was finally getting to him. If he passed out that would make it easier for them to drag him along with them once IG-11 got the vent open.

“Aili…I--”

Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a blast of fire coming from the window that the troopers had shot open. Aili threw herself over Mando to cover him from the flames. So much for her not caring. She really hated Incinerator Troopers and she wasn’t sure why she was surprised Moff Gideon had one with him. When the burst of flame went away, she pushed herself back up. Mando let out a pained groan as Aili glanced around to make sure Little Green was okay as well.

She let out a quiet sigh of relief when she saw him standing there, near Cara and Karga, perfectly fine even as he kept looking at them with his wide brown eyes. She looked over to the IG unit who was still working on the vent. “Get that vent open! Now!” She shouted, her voice steady for the most part. If there was a slight wobble near the end, Mando wasn't about to comment on it.

“You protect the kid, I can hold them back long enough for you to escape.”

“Now I know you’re brain damaged,” Aili shot back quickly. “I am not leaving you here.”

Mando let out a sigh that was barely audible. “Let me have a warrior’s death and take care of the kid, for the both of us.”

“I. Am not. Leaving you here,” Aili repeated herself, glaring down at Mando now.

“This is the Way.”

“Well it’s not my way,” Aili said shortly. She ignored the small part of herself that told her she had left behind people hurt way less in the interest of staying alive. She hadn’t cared back then, had only cared about finishing the missions she was sent on. There was another short burst of fire, Aili ducking over Mando to cover him again and when she looked up, she wished she hadn’t.

The Incinerator Trooper walked into the cantina, quickly scanning the room for them. As soon as they were in his sight, he lifted his flamethrower up again aiming it straight at them all. From this close, nothing would stop the flames from hitting any of them. Aili looked over at Little Green in a panic when she saw him standing right in the line of fire. She tried to reach over Mando to pull Little Green towards them but she couldn’t reach him without leaving Mando’s side.

As the flames shot forward, everyone ducked down so they wouldn’t have to see it coming. When all Aili felt was the heat but not the flames on her skin, she looked back up in confusion. Mando brought his own head up as much as he could, gritting his teeth in pain as he did.

Little Green was using whatever powers he had to hold back the flames and they all stared as it looked like the fire hit a wall. He threw his little hand back and the fire flew back towards the trooper, throwing him out of the cantina with a surprised scream that was cut short as the flames overtook him. As Little Green fell back, cooing as his eyes closed, IG-11 finally got the vent open. Aili left Mando’s side long enough to scoop Little Green into her arms and away from the fire now spreading throughout the cantina.

“Come on, it’s open!” Karga shouted towards them. He didn’t want to spend another second in the cantina as it started to burn. He also didn’t want to wait for any more Troopers to get inside.

“Go,” Mando said, his voice rougher than before. He took as good a look as he could from where he was laying at Aili and the kid in her arms. “You need to go.”

“I...we can’t just leave you here,” Aili still tried to argue. Mando was shocked that she was still trying to argue when they both knew he was dying. There wasn’t anything she could do for him and now that the kid was knocked out, neither could he with his strange powers.

“Cara,” Mando called out as best as he could to the Shock Trooper. When Cara looked over at them he tilted his helmet towards Aili. “Take her.”

Despite the fact that she knew Aili would be pissed at her, Cara did as Mando asked and dragged the smaller woman up off of the floor being careful when she saw the kid in her arms. As expected, Aili fought against Cara’s hold even as she was getting all but carried over to the open vent.

“Let me go,” Aili wrenched herself out of Cara’s grasp, giving the woman a glare before she turned it to where Mando was still laying. She couldn’t believe he would...actually yes she could believe that he would have Cara try to drag her out of there without him. She did not spend months of her life on that piece of crap ship, away from her girls, just for him to decide to die from an easy to fix wound.

“I will stay with the Mandalorian, you protect the Child,” IG-11 said as it walked over to them. Of all the humans gathered there, the IG unit knew that the one currently holding the Child would be its best protector. Even with her emotions clouding her judgement at the moment.

Aili paused for a long moment, looking down at Mando before she finally looked up at IG-11 with a dark look in her eyes. “You better bring him or I’ll shoot you myself and no one will be able to fix you this time.”

“Understood,” IG-11 said, holding out the bag that the Child had been in when the Scout Troopers had taken him. Aili took the bag, placing the sleeping child inside before she looked back down at Mando with an unreadable expression on her face.

“Stay alive.”

Without waiting for Mando to reply, she turned to go down the vent, Cara following after her to make sure she didn’t try to head back when no one was looking. As soon as they were all in the sewers, Aili took the lead in front of Karga. It wouldn’t take them long to get to the Covert from the cantina if she remembered correctly. She just hoped she didn’t get turned around since she had never come in from the actual entrance aside from the very first time.

“You know where we’re going?” Cara questioned, shock on her face. She had been sure that they were going to be stuck wandering around the sewers for at least a few minutes before getting their bearings. Unless Mando had been able to give Aili directions in between arguing with her about him staying behind. Somehow Cara doubted that was the case though.

“Yeah, might take a while longer though, I never came in from the cantina,” Aili said flippantly. She didn’t elaborate any further than that despite the looks she was now getting from Cara and Karga. They didn’t need to know how or why she knew the way to the Covert.

“You are still full of surprises,” Cara commented. Everytime she thought she knew even half of the things about Aili, the smaller woman went and purposely made herself more mysterious. This was actually more shocking to Cara than when she figured out that Mando and Aili had finally slept together, them not actually being together was less of a surprise.

“You have no idea.”

They continued down the tunnels in mostly silence, Little Green had woken up at some point. He still let out tired coos which Aili couldn’t fault him for given how much energy he must have used to hold back the flames. They were getting closer to a part of the Covert that Aili recognized, close to where she usually snuck in from to be exact when there was a muffled explosion.

Everyone turned around, ready to start shooting again if they had to. There was a bright light coming their way paired with steady footsteps. Aili tilted her head trying to figure out if she was only hearing one set or two sets of footsteps. She hoped that the droid had been smart enough to stay behind in the cantina if Mando didn’t make it.

The relief she felt when she saw Mando and IG-11 come around the corner was short-lived as it was quickly replaced by her earlier anger with the Mandalorian. She let Cara move to help Mando stand, it wasn’t like she’d be very helpful anyway with her lack of height. Besides she was still carrying Little Green and she wasn’t nearly as upset with him as she was Mando.

“Do you know which way to go?” Karga asked Mando when they came to what seemed like a fork in the road.

“No, I don’t know these tunnels. I only ever entered from the bazaar,” Mando said, looking from left to right, unsure exactly where they were but he knew they couldn’t stop moving. It wouldn’t take long for Moff Gideon to realize where they had gone and send Troopers down into the tunnels after them.

“It’s this way,” Aili said, nodding her head towards the right tunnel.

“Are you sure?” Mando asked, not because he doubted her answer but he still wasn’t even sure where they were.

Aili looked over at Mando with a single raised eyebrow. “It’s not like I could use the front entrance any of the times I came down here.”

“Wait, what?” Cara asked, almost missing a step forward. “Exactly how many times have you been down here?”

“Every time I finished a job, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“But why come down here when you’re not--”

“Look, this isn’t the time or the place and no offense but I’m not gonna be giving answers anyway,” Aili interrupted before Cara could finish her sentence.

Silence fell over them for a moment before Karga spoke, choosing to pick a different subject. “If we get the smell of sulfur and follow it, it’ll lead us up to the plains where the river flows.”

“And the Imps will catch us before we make it to the ship. We need the Mandalorians to escort us to safety,”

“And we need to warn them about the Imps heading their way,” Aili added without mentioning why warning them was needed. The existence of all of the other foundlings was something that could and would stay between her and Mando unless Cara and Karga saw them with their own eyes. She knew that if they did, they’d agree with keeping children out of the line of fire.

They turned down another tunnel that Aili pointed out and she could tell that at least two of them were doubting her directions. She couldn’t blame them, it wasn’t exactly easy trying to keep all the tunnels straight.

“This place is a maze!” Cara exclaimed.

“We’re going the right way,” Aili said although now she was beginning to doubt herself a little. She had come through from so many different ways to avoid any Mandalorians on guard that they were all blending together in her head.

“Stop,” Mando suddenly said, pulling away from Cara and Karga. “I can stand.”

“The bacta infusion is working,” IG-11 said and Aili slowly turned around to stare straight into Mando’s t-visor. So he let the droid remove his helmet after all? Even as she narrowed her eyes at him she had to admit that it made sense, no living thing could see his face and droids were technically not alive. Loopholes. Something they had clearly utilized after the disaster of a prison break. She shook the thought away, it was not the time or place to think about that.

“I’ll try to find tracks,” Mando said, looking at the ground for a moment before pointing down the tunnel. “We’re close.”

“Yeah, I could have told you that,” Aili said, pursing her lips in annoyance. But she kept her mouth shut and let Mando take the lead now since it would be faster for him to follow the tracks with his helmet. She followed right behind him, Cara and Karga behind her, and IG-11 in the rear.

“Turn here.”

He led them into what Aili would assume was the main hallway which she had never actually seen before. She had always taken a different way, one that came out closer to the Armorer in order to not be seen by anyone else. Mando suddenly stopped in his tracks, shutting off his flashlight, and spun around to face them, specifically looking down at Aili. The way he was standing blocked her view of whatever was behind him.

“What?” She raised an eyebrow wondering what he had seen. It couldn’t have been a dead end or anything like that. And it was quiet behind him so it wasn’t another Mandalorian.

“Wrong way,” Mando said shortly.

“No, it’s not,” Aili stated, narrowing her eyes up at Mando. She may have never been this way but it was obviously the right way for someone who unlike her was a Mandalorian. She tilted her head and quicker than he could attempt to stop her, she ducked under his arms and stopped in her tracks when she saw what he was trying to hide from her.

“Aili, no--”

“Oh.”

Aili slapped a hand over her mouth before she could say anything else, her eyes wide at the pile of armor before her. She knew she had missed Madsin’s birthday, had missed her swearing the Creed, which meant her armor could be in that pile and she would have no way of knowing. Meaning that would have left the other three without Aili and their big sister. Shaeli and Jaesa were still so young and Sula...she still looked to Aili and Madsin for answers sometimes.

She couldn’t do anything other than watch as Mando slowly moved forward to kneel down in front of the pile. He picked up one of the helmets and she wondered if he remembered who it had belonged to. A stupid thought considering how close knit the Covert was, Aili recalled learning several names that she would never be able to put a face or helmet to but Shaeli and Jaesa were hard to settle down when they shared stories of the Covert. Little Green let out a sad coo when Aili unconsciously tightened her grip on the bag he was in, holding him closer against herself.

“We should keep moving,” Cara said quietly. She could understand why Mando was upset but Aili’s reaction was once again a surprise. It wasn't like she had ever mentioned knowing any other Mandalorians. But the smaller woman still had secrets that Cara didn’t know about since she hadn’t spent months on a ship with her. Mando had obviously been trying to keep Aili from seeing the armor for a reason though.

“You go. Take the ship. I can’t leave it this way,” Mando said in a clipped tone.

“Did you know about this?” Aili suddenly spun around to stare at Karga. He was the only one who could have called for an attack like this. Could have done it as soon as the Razor Crest took off all those months ago. She was so stupid, she should have fought harder to have the Armorer give her permission to help evacuate the foundlings immediately. She should have been there for...she should have known...

“No! When you two left the system and took the prize, the fighting ended and the hunters just melted away. You both know how it is. They’re mercenaries, they’re not zealots!” Karga exclaimed and Aili was ready to argue with him when Mando beat her to it.

“Did you do this? Did you?” Mando got up quickly, getting into Karga’s face and shouting despite his voice still being rough and shaky from the still ebbing pain in both his head and body. It was taking most of his willpower to stay standing upright but now his grief and anger was fueling him on. He hadn’t seen any foundling sized armor in the pile yet but from what he knew, the oldest of Aili’s ade wouldn’t have child-sized armor anymore.

“No!”

“It was not his fault,” a voice familiar to both Aili and Mando said from another tunnel. The Armorer walked out, still looking like she had the last time Aili had seen her. The only difference was that she carried herself with what looked like the weight of the galaxy on her shoulders now.

“We revealed ourselves. We knew what could happen if we left the Covert. The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter, this is what resulted.”

“Did any survive?” Mando asked, trying desperately to keep his gaze on the Armorer rather than turning to look over at Aili. He didn’t want to see her face if the Armorer gave bad news.

“Yes, though I do not know how many,” the Armorer said before turning to look over at Aili who had taken in a sharp breath. “Aili Verdella, you should know that your ade are with what remains of the covert.”

“They’re--” Aili cut herself off, unsure she could even trust herself to finish her sentence.

“Your ship was used to reach Oshriya. Your oldest said they owed you a favor and from there I do not know, only that the plan was to sell your ship for enough credits to spare for safe passage off planet,” the Armorer explained simply as she picked up the closest piece of armor on the ground.

“They sold my ship?” Just like that, Aili went from being happy they were still alive to wanting to kill them herself. She had spent thousands of credits on that ship, making it livable and able to transport several bounties at once if needed. Had even made sure all of the crew quarters were ready just in case.

“Are you really getting mad about a ship?” Now Mando turned to look at Aili, disbelief in his voice. He would have expected her to be relieved at the very least.

“It was a Glowzee-class, fully customized! Yes, yes I am now that I know they’re not dead. But they’re gonna wish they were when we find them." Aili was aware that it was stupid but she knew that it would have been Madsin’s idea to sell the ship and she would have been the only one brave enough to suggest it.

“She’s got a point, Mando. That was probably a beautiful ship,” Cara said, wincing at the thought of losing a ship like that. Glowzees were not easy to come by, especially now in the New Republic. Only ship harder to get was a Razor Crest but no one really wanted those very much. Glowzees though...those were the equivalent of beskar to someone who wanted a ship off the grid for any reason.

“Can we focus on the Imps that are still coming after us?” Mando said before Aili could go off about the ship. He agreed that a Glowzee-class ship was a terrible thing to lose but he wasn’t about to let Aili know that. Not until they were out of the very real danger of not being able to make it back to the Razor Crest. But now he understood why she always liked to comment on everything she didn’t like about his ship, it was definitely a step down from her own ship.

“Fine.”

“Come with us.” Mando directed towards the Armorer who had been picking up pieces of armor and placing them in a bin as they spoke. Of course no one could see the look she was giving Mando and Aili from behind her helmet, the knowing look in her eyes along with a small smile playing at her lips.

“I will not abandon this place until I have salvaged what remains.” The Armorer placed one more piece of armor into the bin before pushing it into the Forge. Mando and Aili followed after her silently while Cara and Karga gave each other a confused look before they too went into the room.

“Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction,” the Armorer said after she placed a cuirass into the Forge to melt it down. Aili stepped forward, holding Little Green up a little so the Armorer could see him.

“This is the one,” Mando said, awkwardly shifting his feet. He wasn’t sure how the Armorer would react to Little Green.

“This is the one that you hunted then saved?” Even Aili could tell that the Armorer was a little taken aback by the sight of Little Green. It was how she had felt when she had first seen him on the Crest, complete surprise that someone would place a bounty on a child.

“Yes. The one that saved me as well,” Mando replied.

“From the mudhorn,” the Armorer clarified, wanting to be sure that she was understanding him correctly.

“Yes.”

“It looks helpless.”

Little Green let out a coo, looking up at the Armorer with his big brown eyes. Aili let out a quiet snort at the thought of Little Green being helpless after what she had seen him do in the past couple of days. She still needed to ask Mando about this mudhorn story because she couldn’t even begin to imagine what that was about.

“He’s injured but he’s not helpless. Its species can move objects with its mind,” Mando explained, hoping that the Armorer would know about these powers than any of them did.

“I know of such things. The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore the Great and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers,” the Armorer explained as she dipped one of her tools into the now molten beskar, gathering it up easily.

“Jedi?” Aili questioned quietly. She wracked her brain to try to remember if she had ever heard that word used before. She recalled hearing rumors about the Emperor and she wondered if this had been why certain girls got pulled from the Program as soon as they left basic.

“It is an enemy?” Mando asked and Aili turned her head to give him an unimpressed look. Even if Little Green’s kind were enemies to the Mandalorians, Little Green clearly wasn’t given how many times he had helped them. Neither of them even knew how long he had been away from his kind so there was no telling how much he had even been taught about his powers.

“No. Its kind were enemies but this individual is not,” the Armorer said, unknowingly speaking the thoughts that Aili was having. She turned away from them, slowly walking over towards a cabinet against the wall.

“What is he?” Mando asked. Aili wondered just how many questions he had because even if the Armorer were to suddenly change her mind, she doubted even Mando would be able to harm Little Green.

“It is a foundling.” The way the Armorer said it left no room for argument. The cabinet opened up to reveal the rest of her tools. “By Creed, it is in your care.”

Little Green let out a small gurgle, looking up at Aili before glancing over at Mando with his big brown eyes.

Mando let out a quiet, almost scoff of surprise before he pointed at the kid, “You wish me to train him?”

“It is too weak. It would die. You have no choice, you must reunite it with its own kind,” the Armorer said bluntly and Aili was beginning to remember why she sometimes preferred to spend as little time as possible in the Forge after a job. Other than wanting to spend more time with her girls before she had to leave. The Armorer pulled something that Aili couldn’t see out and placed in on the workstation in front of her.

“Where?” Aili asked before Mando could. She didn’t like the idea of it but as attached as she was to Little Green, she knew he would probably be better off with his own kind. Be it these Jedi or even just his own race.

“This, you must determine,” the Armorer answered as if that would make it any easier for them. She poured some of the beskar into molds, setting the rest of the beskar aside.

“You expect us to search the galaxy for the home of this creature and deliver it to a race of enemy sorcerers?” Mando questioned, unsure of this mission that the Armorer was giving them. He didn’t even have a clue as to where they would even start and the galaxy was not small by any means.

“This is the Way.”

The way the Armorer spoke those words gave Aili pause, wondering if the other woman had meant to say it with that tone. The Armorer turned back around, using her hammer on the molds that she had just filled in. The sound was jarring with the silence coming from the rest of the Covert.

“These tunnels are going to be lousy with Imps in a matter of minutes, we should at least discuss some kind of escape plan,” Cara said, spurred on by the noise the Armorer was now making. It would make it easier for the Imps to find them now, the sound carrying throughout the room and more than likely throughout the tunnels.

“If you follow the descending tunnel, it will lead you to the underground river,” the Armorer suggested as she placed her hammer down and picked up another tool. “It flows downstream into the lava flats.”

“I think we should go,” Karga said. He wasn’t going to mention that he had already said they should go that way.

“I’m staying. I need to help her and to heal,” Mando said, turning to look over at Aili who already looked ready to argue. “You go with them to the ship, take it to Oshriya.”

“You must go.” The Armorer said before Aili even had a chance to open her mouth. She picked up the first of the molds and placed it in water to release the mold. She did so quickly doing the same for the second of the molds. “A foundling is in your care. Until you reunite the Child with his people or he becomes of age, you two will be as his parents.”

Cara barely held back the smile threatening to appear on her face as she glanced over at the look of shock on Aili’s face. She also noted the way Mando shifted one foot backwards as if he were about to keel over. She was liking the Armorer a little more now. Little Green let out another coo, staring straight at Mando who had turned to look over at both him and Aili who was decidedly avoiding looking back at him.

“This is the Way.” Now Aili knew the Armorer was almost mocking both of them with the way she said that. She had spent at least enough time to know when she was smiling beneath her helmet and this was definitely one of those times. She had basically just called Mando and her a pair. The Armorer spent a few more moments working on whatever had been in the second mold before she was finished.

“You have earned your signet,” the Armorer said, turning around and holding the signet in her hand along with something smaller that neither Mando or Aili could clearly see. She walked over to Mando and quickly attached the signet to Mando’s pauldron.

“Thank you. I will wear this with honor,” Mando said, standing a little straighter now.

Once the Armorer was satisfied, she turned around to look at Aili. “You are a clan of seven, the largest in recent times,” the Armorer said without preamble, holding out a pendant not unlike the one Mando had handed Aili back in the cantina except this one was also a mudhorn. Aili’s eyes went wide, even as she slowly reached out to take the necklace. It wasn’t like she’d be able to refuse anything from the Armorer.

“Excuse me, seven?” Cara exclaimed quietly, eyes wide as she counted everyone present again. Sure there were seven of them there but she didn’t agree to join a Mandalorian clan even if she had grown to like fighting alongside one of them. And how could a droid even be in a clan?

“Don’t worry Cara, I have four girls that are off-world," Alli said. She wasn’t sure what to make of all the thoughts now going through her head.

“Four, you look good for giving birth to four kids.” Karga commented, surprised he hadn’t known this. He had always prided himself in at least knowing the bare minimum about his bounty hunter’s personal lives, if only so he knew who to inform if they died during a job. But Aili always had been a mystery to him, never speaking of her personal life in the slightest.

“They’re adopted, former Program like me.” Aili kept her explanation as short as possible, they didn’t need to know all of the details.

“Oh good, but also maybe don’t add to your clan any time soon because five kids is a lot,” Cara tried to joke despite her shock.

“Two are considered adults now, you should be proud to know that Sula has indeed chosen to train as a medic,” the Armorer directed the last of her statement in Aili and Mando’s direction. She was aware that the younger girl had told her about her doubts of continuing down the path of the Fighting Corps like her older sister.

“I am, thank you.”

There were muffled explosions in the distance, too close for Aili’s liking since she knew sound carried itself differently in tunnels. “Time to go. Now,” Aili said, looking up at Mando who nodded in agreement.

“IG, please guard the outer hallway. A scouting party draws near.”

IG-11 did as he was asked, leaving the room quickly as the Armorer turned once more to pick something up near the forge. “I have one more gift for your journey. Have you trained in the Rising Phoenix?”

“When I was a boy, yes,” Mando responded. It had been a long time since then but he still remembered most of the training.

“Then this will make you complete,” the Armorer said, turning back around to show him the jetpack in her hands. Aili and Cara let out low whistles of appreciation. The Armorer continued to speak as if they hadn’t done so. “When you have healed, you will begin your drills. Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

Several blasters sounded and Cara and Karga pulled out their own just in case Storm Troopers appeared. Aili shifted her own hold on Little Green so she could unholster her blaster as well. She may be carrying the kid but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t be able to keep fighting.

“You are protected,” IG-11 said as he stepped back into view of the entrance.

“More will come. You must go.”

“Come with us,” Mando said, trying once more to get the Armorer to agree to leaving the now empty Covert.

“My place is here, restock your munitions,” the Armorer said, leaving no room for Mando to argue with her. Not that he would ever argue with her. She went over to where IG-11 was now standing. “IG, carry this for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it.”

IG-11 took the jetpack without complaint and left the Forge once more. Mando did as he was told and restocked on charges.

“Now go. Down to the river and across the plains,” the Armorer said, watching as Cara and Karga left immediately. She took note of the way that Aili stayed in the entryway, obviously waiting for the Mandalorian that she had been travelling with. She looked back at Din Djarin as he finished restocking his munitions. “Be safe on your journey and protect your Clan to the best of your abilities.”

“I will. Thank you,” Mando said before taking out his blaster and leaving the Forge, Aili walking out by his side. The Armorer stood in front of the forge, watching as they left knowing that they would be fine despite anything the galaxy chose to throw their way. They would have to be strong with the remnants of the Empire after the Child in their protection but she knew they were stronger together. It was why she had sent Aili to him all those months ago afterall.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x original character #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x oc

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eggsyunwinftw · 7 years

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Imagine Kingsman’s Enemies Break Into Yours and Eggsy’s House

A/N: More Eggsy because I would die for this egg srsly. Also, this is violent and swear a lot so you have been warned! Enjoy :P also - send in a request if you want, I’ll write anything tbh (as long as it’s Kingsman - doesn’t have to be Eggsy!)

"Hey, babe. You alright?"

"I'm good. What time are you getting home?" You replied,

"'Bout thirty minutes. I'll bring take out?"

Now he was speaking your language.

"Mhm, hell yes Unwin. Knew there was a reason I kept you around," You heard Eggsy's mock gasp down the phone, then a laugh.

"Love you too, Y/N. See ya' in a bit," He hung up the phone, and you stretched out like a cat on the sofa, one hand stroking JB's fur. Most evenings were the same, now that Eggsy had his new job. You got in from work at five, relaxed for an hour, worked on an extra project and then Eggsy arrived home with a bag of takeout (unless you were cooking, of course) and his bespoke suit looking a little rumpled. Planting a kiss on his lips, you'd set the table and the two of you would eat, then retire to the sofa for cheesy soap operas or a spy movie. It was nice - domestic, sweet and safe. You both loved the security of your little home.

That evening was set to be the same - until you heard footsteps on the porch outside.

You started immediately - Eggsy wouldn't be home for a while, and you weren't expecting any guests. Shit. Maybe they weren't there for you? You turned off your computer and shoved your phone into your pocket, pushing JB out of the room and up the stairs.

An ominous calm settled over the house. You stayed rooted to your spot in the hall, knowing full well that anyone looking through the hall window would see you if you moved. Silence. You shuffled back slightly, willing JB to stay quiet. Nothing moved. The footsteps were gone.

BANG!

Your door flew off its hinges and into the hallway as you jumped away. It barely missed you, splinters of wood grazing your cheek. Two figures stormed through the door, a man and a woman. The man pulled out a gun and began to scan each room of the house, as the woman walked towards you. You flinched as she grabbed your shirt, pulling you up to face her.

"Where's Galahad?" She hissed, and you blinked at her.

What the fuck?

She shook you when you didn't respond, hitting your head against the wall and glaring as you cried out in pain.

"Where. Is. Galahad?" You shook your head frantically, mouth dry. What did she mean? You didn't know a Galahad - nobody had known a Galahad since the 6th century.

You clawed at her hand as it moved to grip your throat.

"I don't know! Please, I don't know a Galahad," She rolled her eyes, and yelled something out to the man in your kitchen. Maybe it was code?

You struggled to get free, and she laughed, tightening her grip enough to bruise.

"Don't lie to me. You live with him, don't you? We'll find him anyway - tell us now and make it easier on yourself." You felt all the breath leave you.

Eggsy. They wanted Eggsy.

Fear coursing through your veins, you shook your head frantically, spewing out the first lie you thought of. "I don't know what you mean! I live alone, I swear -"

The woman sighed and removed her hand, letting you fall to the floor.

Scrambling to your feet, you prepared to run upstairs, but she was too fast, grabbing your arm and pulling you back. You had to tell Eggsy - he's be fucked if he came back home soon -

The sound of muttering brought you back to reality. The two attackers were conversing under their breath, so low that you could barely hear them. You only caught a whisper, something about a King and Galahad. Wonderful. You had to be burgled by two Arthurian whack jobs.

By then, the pair had turned their backs on you, assuming you weren't a threat anymore. With your arm throbbing, you pulled out your phone and pressed the three numbers Eggsy made you memorise by heart, then hit call.

"537. If you're ever in trouble, you call this number, an' I'll know. Promise?"

He'd better be right, you thought, as you shoved your phone back into your pocket.

Still facing away from you, the attacker's voices had turned lower still, and they were barely whispering - their conversation had turned to snippets and grunts.

You scoured the floor in a panic, looking for anything to defend yourself. Eggsy wouldn't be home for another twenty minutes, and even if he did arrive, the pair were there to hurt him, not you. Quietly as possible, and wobbling slightly on your feet, you picked up a splintered piece of wood and crept up behind your attackers.

Which one posed the most threat? The girl was strong, but the bloke had a gun - you sent up a prayer to every God out there, and smacked the woman on the back of the head, then ducked and sprinted up the stairs.

You listened as her body hit the floor, and the man's panicked yell hit your ears.

You heard the man cursing, and footsteps pounding up the stairs. Anxiety rose in your chest, filling you with fear and panic.

Damn it, where was Eggsy? You pushed a chair against the bedroom door and grabbed your lamp, crouching next to the bed. Frantically grabbing your phone, you started to call the police, when your phone screen turned black and flashed the 0% battery sign. You felt the hope in your chest fall flat, like a punctured balloon.

You were going to die in your bedroom, holding an IKEA desk lamp and curled up next to a pug. Fuck.

A gunshot could be heard, far too close for comfort. The door flew open - the man was in your room, eyes angry. He threw his gun down and strode across the room; you hit out with the lamp and he jerked back, throwing it across the room as he grabbed your hair, holding your arm behind your back.

"I'm not gonna kill you - I need you alive. You know where Galahad is," You let out a cry of anguish, scraping your nails down his arm, but he just held your hair tighter.

Eggsy, I need you. Please, hurry.

"I don't know what you're talking about! I don't know a Galahad, please, let me go -" Footsteps. More footsteps, pounding the stairs, showing away the chair and your eyes were closed but you could feel the woman's presence in the room -

"Let them go, you fuck."

Eggsy.

You almost gasped in relief, but the hand clutching your hair stopped you. You opened your eyes and saw Eggsy Unwin in all his glory, eyes stormy and umbrella bared.

He raised his umbrella and you felt confusion seep through the adrenaline fog - the brute holding you had a gun and a fist the size of a hunk of ham. An umbrella wouldn't exactly take him down.

Until you saw a bullet fly past your face, hitting the man right between the eyes and splattering your face with blood.

His hand fell slack in your hair and you gasped in relief, legs shaking so hard that you fell forwards: straight into Eggsy's arms.

He pulled you close and you curled into his chest, breathing in his cologne. Curling a hand into his shirt, you felt tears spilling from your eyes.

"Shh, sweetheart, I'm here. 've got you, love, it's alright. Fuck, Y/N, I was so scared," He stroked a hand over your hair, gently lifting you and moving to the bed, where he lay down and pulled you flush against his body.

"Eggsy - I didn't - didn't know what to do, they wanted Galahad but - but -" He tilted your face up to his, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You noticed his eye shining with unshed tears, panic and rage still etched in his face. Slowly, as though you were a frightened deer, he raised a hand to your cheek and ran his thumb down the graze on your face.

Taking a breath, he grasped your hand and let you sink further into him.

"Y/N, I've gotta explain some o' this to you, those fuckers, they wanted me. I'm Galahad," You gave him a confused look, and he bit his lip anxiously.

"I figured that much, babe. They kept saying that I knew Galahad, and I guessed it must be you - they didn't seem friendly, so I told them I didn't know anything..." Eggsy's eyes widened, and he leant down to press his lips to yours, cupping your cheek and shaking his head slightly.

"I bloody love you, darlin'. And I'd rather you told them everythin' than got hurt protecting me... but you're so brave, and I'm so proud of ya'," You blushed, nuzzling into Eggsy's neck, still shaking a little out of fear.

Sitting up on the bed, Eggsy surveyed the wreckage of the room, and let out a sigh. Keeping a tight grip on your hand, he stroked your knuckles and checked his phone. You shuffled to the edge of the bed, perching next to him.

Standing up, he pulled you with him and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you standing. "Come on, luv. There's a cab outside and we can go some place a bit less... fucked," You nodded, and he crouched down to peer under the bed, finally spotting his prize.

"There you are! Was wonderin' where you'd got to, JB." The pug wandered out, fearful and tense. Eggsy scratched his head and he relaxed quickly, allowing him to pick him up and begin to walk downstairs.

"Eggsy," You said, and he turned instantly to look at you, concern in his eyes.

"Y'alright babe?" You nodded, an continued.

"I love you. And I'm so glad you got here in time," Eggsy reached out to throw an arm around your shoulder and pull you close.

"'Course, darlin'. Just wish I'd been here sooner, but at least you're alright," The three of you walked down the stairs and piled into the taxi that waited outside the house.

Tucked under Eggsy's arm, you finally let yourself cry, all of the fear that had fuelled you suddenly dispersing and leaving you exhausted. Eggsy ran his fingers through your hair, humming something under his breath.

"Y/N, did you take out the lady in the hall?" At your nod, he grinned in pride. "Fuck yes, babe."

You shook your head, exasperated, but so, so glad that he was around.

#gary eggsy unwin #eggsy unwin #eggsy #kingsman eggsy #kingsman #kingsman: the secret service #kingsman: the golden circle #jb #eggsy x reader #eggsy unwin x reader #gary eggsy unwin x reader #reader insert #eggsy imagine #eggsy unwin imagine #kingsman imagine #violence

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imagineteamfreewill · 7 years

Text

Return

Title: Return

Pairing: Reader x Dean

Word Count: 2,765

Warnings: Angst

Beta: @lipstickandwhiskey

Summary: Living in a village is nice, and even though you’d always longed for adventure, you weren’t expecting to go on an adventure of your own when your father goes missing on his way back from a trip to the neighboring village.

A/N: I’ve been itching to write this Beauty and the Beast AU for the longest time—since even before the remake was announced—and I finally got the motivation to do it! I tried not to take too much from the movies, but they’re both pretty fresh in my mind so this series might be similar to them. Feedback is greatly appreciated, please let me know what you think!

Beauty and the Beast Masterlist

_______________

As much as you enjoyed the fresh air and the simplicity of the countryside, it wasn’t always what Father cracked it up to be. It was the only thing you knew, considering it was the only place you’d ever lived, yet every day you yearned for something else besides the same routine day after day. Anything would be better than living in the same house, in the same town, and seeing the same people every day of your life.

Sighing, you finished kneading the dough you’d been working on all morning and set it aside to rise. Flour dusted your clothes and you smiled when your father walked in, his own clothes stained with clay and wet fingerprints from his work on the sculptures in the basement.

“Good morning, Father.” You pecked his cheek as he passed by you to wash his hands in the sink. “Do you want me to pick up anything special from the market this morning?” you asked. He shook his head and gave you the same fond smile he always gave you when you asked.

“What has the answer always been to that question, Y/N?” he teased. You rolled your eyes and grabbed your basket from its spot by the door.

“I’ll be back in a little while. Try to leave the dough alone while I’m gone. If you move it, it’s going to turn out poorly, like it did the last time,” you reminded him. Father nodded, his nose crinkling slightly at the memory. You smiled and waved goodbye once more before closing the front door behind you.

The town square wasn’t far from your little house; you only had to walk down a short, gently sloping hill to reach the brick-lined streets. The walk went by quickly, just like it always did. The rest of the villagers were already going about their day, and as you passed the first shop, you slipped your book from the basket so you could read on your way to the town’s tiny library. You’d walked the streets so many times that you weren’t worried about tripping, but the story was so intriguing that you didn’t notice when Cole—the locals’ favorite huntsman—stepped into your path. You bumped into him, dropping your book and basket. Cole’s grip on your arms kept you from falling, but you quickly pulled yourself from his grasp.

“Good morning, Y/N,” he grinned, his lips pulling back in a supposedly charming smile to display his straight white teeth. You rolled your eyes and reached down to pick up your things. “How are you this morning, beautiful maiden?”

“I’m fine, Cole. As always,” you grumbled, pushing past him. He grabbed your arm again before you could get far.

“Where are you going, Y/N? The library again? There’s nothing for you there. Now, won’t you thank me for saving you? I believe a kiss would be appropriate,” he added. With his free hand, Cole smoothed back his greasy hair, giving you that same ridiculous smile as before. Once again, you yanked your arm from his grasp, not bothering to hide your disgusted expression. Ignoring the townspeople who were watching your exchange, you dusted yourself off and tucked your book back into your basket for safe keeping.

“Saving me? You’re the reason I almost fell in the first place! You’re lucky I don’t stomp on your clumsy feet,” you spat.

“Clumsy feet? You’re lucky I’m pursuing you, woman! You should rethink your answer to my proposal, Y/N. You’re not going to find anything better with that useless father of yours,” Cole growled. His voice was low and threatening, but you reveled in the boyish squeak he gave when you stomped down on his toes with the heel of your foot. Turning around, you continued your walk, ignoring Cole’s indignant shout behind you. A tiny, victorious smile graced your lips when you reached the library, and Ash didn’t fail to notice.

“Why’re you smiling this morning, Y/N? Did the characters promise to save you and pull you into the book with them?” he teased, taking the book you’d finished and holding out an old favorite of yours.

“No,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Though I often wish they would. I ran into Cole this morning. Have you ever noticed how small his feet are? It’s practically comical!” Ash laughed and shook his head.

“I don’t leave the library often, but that’s perfectly okay with me. There are no new books today, unfortunately, so you’re stuck reading that one.” He nodded at the red-covered book in your hands. You ran your fingers over the embossed title on the front, smiling fondly.

“That’s alright,” you told him. “The story in this one is anything but boring.” Ash gave you a thumbs up—his own invented signal to wish you a good day—and you gave one back before heading back out to pick up the food you would need for the rest of the afternoon. You ignored the spiteful looks two passing women gave you when they caught you sticking up your thumb at him.

When you reached home again, Father was nowhere to be found. You put the bread in the fire, knowing that once the smell of fresh-baked bread began to fill your home he would appear, then sat down to read your book.

It truly was one of your favorites, and even though you could’ve recited it word for word, you still found yourself getting pulled into the story each time you opened it. The characters had always seemed so real to you. A girl who was being forced into marriage? You couldn’t fathom it, but the words somehow described it enough that you always found yourself tearing up after her dramatic soliloquies.

A hand on your shoulder interrupted you at the end of one of your favorite parts, and you quickly wiped your eyes before looking up to see Father standing beside you. He smiled fondly and cupped your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“Dear girl, why do you always read such sad books?” he asked, shaking his head. “Do you not find enough sadness in this place?”

“Oh Father, I don’t read them because they’re sad. I read them because I like that they’re real. Every world has sadness. Just because I choose to read about other people’s worlds doesn’t mean I’m searching for their sadness. I’m searching for what’s real for them,” you replied. Standing, you closed your book and set it on the chair. Father brushed a piece of hair behind your ear with another smile, then watched as you quickly removed the fully-baked loaf from the fire. The whole room smelled delicious, and you breathed deeply, closing your eyes. When you opened them, Father was staring out the window at the heavy clouds in the distance. They were hanging low over the farthest edges of the woods, and you worried your lip as you mentally traced the paths your father would have to ride in the morning. He turned and saw you watching him, then sighed.

“Y/N, don’t worry about me. Old Blue and I will be safe on our journey. I’ve always come back to you, haven’t I?” he questioned. You nodded. “I will always return to you, my daughter.”

“You promise me, Father?”

“I promise, Y/N.”

_______________

Father had never broken a promise before, yet you now found yourself pacing the dusty floor of your tiny home, watching as the dark, cloudy sky brought nothing but rain. He had said that he was to return by noon. It was now almost dinner, and the only person you’d seen out braving the storm was the local drunk as he attempted to reach the safety of the tavern. Not even Cole was dumb enough to leave his home.

“Father, where are you?” you mused aloud, hoping that someway, somehow you would receive an answer. You had only waited a moment when a horse’s neigh answered you in the distance, and your heart leapt into your chest as you raced out in the rain to meet him.

“Father!” you called. You felt your stomach tighten into knots when you were met by the sight of Old Blue galloping up the slope, sans his aging rider. “Old Blue, where’s Father?” The horse whinnied desperately, and you reached out with one hand to grab his reins before he could race past you. He almost pulled you to the ground, but you stood firm and carefully guided him to you so you could calm him down.

“Where’s Father, Blue? Has he been hurt?” you asked, your heart pounding in your chest. Old Blue whinnied again.

Looking around at the storm clouds that were growing darker overhead as night began to fall, you made up your mind. You had to go find Father. In a storm like this, there was no doubt he wouldn’t fare well if he were hurt. You knew his route by heart, and if you followed it to the letter you would be able to find him easily and bring him home, where he belonged.

After tying Blue to the post just outside the door, you hurried inside to gather your cloak from its hook. You tied it around your shoulders, making sure the knot was tight as you stepped back outside and climbed onto the stool you used to mount Old Blue. Your sharp kick to his side spurred him on, and it only took seconds before he was racing back down the hill toward the woods. You reached the treeline in record time, and soon you were following the familiar path toward the neighboring city, where Father was supposed to be selling his sculptures. Old Blue, however, had other plans, and he veered off onto a path you’d never seen before. You hadn’t gotten far before he reared up at a fallen tree, dumping you onto the forest floor.

“Blue!” you cried, wincing as you felt a sharp branch dig into the soft flesh of your arm. You were still scrambling to your feet when he took off again, leaving you to fend for yourself in the dark woods. Thunder crashed overhead and you shivered, pulling your thick wool cloak tighter around you. Looking past the fallen tree, you realized the path led further than you’d originally thought. You had no idea where you were; the only sensible option was to continue moving forward and hope you would come across the home of a widow or a tavern built to house hunters and other travelers.

Your heart fluttering in your chest, you followed the path, being careful not to slip and fall in the worsening mud. The steady rain quickly turned into a downpour, and it only took minutes for your clothes beneath the cloak to grow heavy and wet. You were shivering hard, and the cold wind you were walking against only made things worse. The sight of large, swirling iron gates up ahead, however, made you want to leap for joy, and at the sight of them opening up, you almost cried. If you could only dry off and get some rest, then you could ask the people who lived inside for help finding Father. You could only hope that he had found shelter from the storm, and as the gates behind you began to close, you didn’t even notice the lack of guards to open and close them, nor did you notice the dark, hulking shadow that followed behind you in the night.

_______________

“Hello? Is anybody home” you called. The sound of your voice echoed in the darkness of the castle’s chambers, and you listened carefully for someone to reply.

“Y/N!”

The answer to your call made you smile from ear to ear. Father was here! He had found the castle as well, and you raced up the winding staircase, following the sound of his voice as he called out for you. The distress in his voice worried you, but you pushed that thought aside as you climbed the stairs further and further up the tower. When you reached the top, however, you stopped, staring at what was before you. Father stood, holding himself up with the iron bars separating the two of you.

“Father?” you questioned, tentatively moving toward the cell that took up the farthest half of the stone room.

“Y/N! You need to leave here! It’s dangerous, and—”

“I’m not leaving until you’re out of here, Father. I’m taking you home,” you replied, determined as you searched the room for something to unlock the large iron padlock hanging from the door. You were just about to head back downstairs to look around for a key when your path was blocked by something twice the size of you. The shadows hid the person’s tall frame, but their message was clear: You would not be leaving the room.

“Your father will not be leaving,” they told you. Their voice was rough, and deep, almost as if they were speaking from behind a mouthful of the stone dark gray that made up the castle. “He is a thief, and I do not tolerate thievery from the ones I allow on my estate.”

“Who are you to say what my father and I will or will not be doing? My father is not a thief! Come into the light,” you demanded, reaching for a candlestick that sat neatly on a shelf. Behind you, Father was begging you to calm down, but you ignored his plea and held the candle up to the figure’s face. A gasp left your lips before you could stop it and the candlestick fell to the floor as you tumbled backward, landing on the stone as well. In the brief moment of light, you’d seen something you’d only seen in nightmares as a child—a monster, complete with bared teeth and glowing, vicious eyes glaring at you from their owner’s broad face, if you could even call it that. The monster stepped toward you, his giant paws coming up to show off his sharp claws and dirty, matted fur as he clenched one in a fist.

“You dare to question my authority?” he growled. You swallowed thickly and got to your feet.

Thinking fast, you retorted, “You’re cruel enough to take a child’s only family without letting her say farewell? Even the villains of myths are kind enough to offer her that!” Angry tears pricked your eyes but you refused to wipe them away, instead choosing to stare down the Beast before you. He stared back for the longest time, unrelenting.

“You have one minute,” he finally replied. The Beast stepped forward again and unlocked the padlock before moving back into the shadows, silently watching as you turned to face Father. Slowly, you pulled open the door. He immediately pulled you into his arms and hugged you as tight as he could, his wrinkled hand rubbing up and down your back like he did when you were a child.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You’re young. Forget about me and return to the village. Marry whomever you like, you have my blessing,” he told you, his voice wobbling with unshed tears. You sniffled into his shoulder, steeling yourself for what was to come as a plan formed in your mind.

“I will never forget you, Father,” you murmured. ”I promise that I will return to you someday.”

“What—” In one smooth movement, you turned and shoved him to the floor at the feet of the Beast, then pulled the iron bars shut once more, locking the heavy padlock shut with one hand. Father stared at you, horror in his eyes as he realized what you had done.

“Y/N, no—”

“You foolish girl!” the Beast roared. “You’ve taken his place and chosen to let an old man live on?” You couldn’t tell if his voice was filled more with anger or surprise, but you choked back a sob as the Beast snatched Father from the stone with one clawed paw and began to carry him back down the tower steps.

“Don’t hurt him!” you cried out, begging the Beast as he grew farther and farther away. “Please, don’t hurt him!”

Father’s shouts for you echoed for what seemed like an eternity. You finally fell to the floor when you could no longer hear them. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you cried until you were too weak to do anything else, and when the salt had finally dried on your cheeks you simply listened to the storm outside pound against the castle’s lonely, impenetrable walls.

_______________

Want to be tagged? Add yourself to my Forever, Dean, or series-specific tag lists HERE!

Forever Tags: @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki, @deathtonormalcy56, @purgatoan, @feelmyroarrrr, @shadowgirl077, @mogarukes, @jayankles, @amaranthinecastiel, @jpadjackles, @d-s-winchester, @kickasscas67, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @therebel1967, @supernatural-harrypotter7, @allinhishands, @ultimatecin73, @crystallstaircase, @a-screaming-ghost, @huffleypuffelycas, @procrastinating-fallen-angel, @kittycat-cas, @dracsgirl, @deansleather, @queenindecisive, @wildfirekhaleesi, @fuckyeahfeysand, @sandlee44, @plaidstiel-wormstache, @spontaneousam, @writingbeautifulmen, @kristaparadowski, @adaliamalfoy, @winchesterforever12, @fangirl1802, @supernaturalyobessed, @mamaredd123 , @findingfitnessforme, @a-broken-hunter, @weepingrebelhottub, @notesfromalabprincess, @dustycelt, @becaamm, @riversong-sam, @you-know-whodoesthat-crazypeople, @therewillbeblood, @raylin19, @maddieburcham1, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @ohgodjensen, @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes, @notmoose45

Dean Tags: @bowtiesandapplepie, @itsemmyb, @ezauraemmaline, @beriala, @charliesbackbitches, @crzcorgi, @ellen-reincarnated1967, @gryffindorable713, @walkingencyclopediaoffandom, @growleytria, @thegleegeneration, @samtomydeanwinchester, @i-never-said-a-pilot, @sis-tafics, @fandommaniacx, @meganwinchester1999, @samanddeanwinchester67, @ferferelli, @lilyoflothlorien, @iridianuniverse, @the-morning-star-falls, @ackleslaugh, @fangirling-instead-of-working, @hellbentcrowley, @eyes-of-a-disney-princess, @torn-and-frayed, @spnsimpleman, @faith-in-dean, @mamaimpala, @for-the-love-of-dean, @winchesterfiesta, @zanthiasplace, @pada-ackles-reads, @thing-you-do-with-that-thing, @gadreelsforbiddenfruit, @jencharlan, @skybinx-blog, @thebunkerismyhome, @beachy2014, @fandom-book-nerd, @shipping-people-writing-things, @tia58, @sams-little-toy, @sunriserose1023, @dr-dean, @saving-things-hunting-family, @winchesterswoonathon, @gbuttry, @a-closet-full-of-skeletons, @ruprecht0420, @thegoodhunterrr5, @jotink78, @lucifer-in-leather, @i-dont-know-how-to-write, @deantbh, @babypieandwhiskey, @waywardjoy, @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname, @fiveleaf, @spn-fan-girl-173, @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave, @samsgoddess, @notnaturalanahi, @thegreatficmaster, @megansescape, @faegal04, @everyday-supernatural-af, @supernatural-jackles, @wevegotworktodo, @deerlululucy, @supermoonpanda, @sleep-silent-angel, @trenchcoats-and-bees, @not-so-natural-spn, @shelovesallthethings, @memariana91, @chelsea-winchester, @revwinchester, @castieltrash1, @supernaturalyobessed, @deals-with-demons, @matteson-crazed

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theycallme-tunathot · 7 years

Text

Ex Machina [preview]

Pairing: Reader x Kim Namjoon, Reader x Mark Tuan (heavily hinted) Rating: It’s definitely R rated or just a solid M Synopsis: A coder at a medical research and software development company is selected for CEO Kim Namjoon’s personal research team. It’s a project her company hasn’t given her much information about it, but what she does know is she will help break ground in the world of Artificial Intelligence. What makes a human human? What makes a machine simply a machine? And is it ethical to blur the lines between machine and human? Author’s Note: So this is just a little taste of what I’ve got. I would like to hear feedback on this because I’ve spent months writing the first few chapters and plotting and connecting themes and what not. If you like it, let me know. If you don’t like it, let me know. I love hearing from you guys!

"Innovation drives us all towards a goal that's just tangible enough without feeling like we're mad for even attempting it."

“May I ask a practical question here?” I asked, my eyes roaming between the board members before looking back at the owner of the company. His icy stare peered straight at me, and I stopped for a moment.

Namjoon Kim had the power to ruin my life, fire me from my very cozy and well-paying job and write me a really bad recommendation for any future employer. If I continued forward, I needed to enlist any sliver of decorum.

When I was sure I wasn’t slowly burning to death under the pointed stare Mr. Kim was giving me, I cleared my throat. “Why would a medical research company be dabbling in artificial intelligence? I mean, don’t get me wrong, my sci-fi heart is about two seconds away from flipping this table over in celebration, but I feel like this is a question that has to be answered before I can agree.”

“What are companies, businesses put on this green earth to do?” Mr. Kim asked, slowly rising out of his chair. My eyes followed his every move, wondering if this was the question he asked people before he terminated them.

Giving a glance to other tense people around the table, I shook my head and thought hard of an adequate answer. “Making money?”

The chorus of soft laughs surrounded me as I looked on, a dumb look adorning my face. I wasn't going to pretend like I knew anything about how businesses run and why they get started or even the purpose they served to the greater good of society. I was just a programmer.

An amused smile graced Mr. Kim's face and for a moment I'm sure he finds me insultingly hilarious.

"If you start a business to make money, I can tell you right now you'll do just fine the first quarter, perhaps even for the first fiscal year," he said, walking around the table, touching the back of the occupied chairs as he moved towards me. "Let me cut to the chase. The correct answer is innovation."

I shifted as he neared me, stopping and standing directly behind my boss, his hand lazily draped along the back of the cool steel of the seat. The pregnant pause he injected into the conversation made me hang in suspension. And then he took a couple of steps toward me, leaning his butt against the edge of the table a mere few inches away from me. I was just hoping my breathing was normal.

"Innovation drives us all towards a goal that's just tangible enough without feeling like we're mad for even attempting it," he continued. "I want to push the limits of what we're capable of here at Quantum. This led to advancement in cancer treatment--wait, I'm being too modest when I call it a treatment aren't I? Let's call it what it is: a cure. Unofficial for the moment until the numerous health agencies in several countries can wrap their tiny brains around what we're doing here. This hunger for innovation led to medical serums that have saved millions of lives in developing countries with contaminated and undrinkable water, solved an epidemic that could’ve easily evolved into a pandemic had the cure not been developed in time. Innovation helped our company see new summits, Ms. Y/N."

By the time he paused, Mr. Kim was staring back at me with an uncomfortable scrutiny. I almost regretted asking the question.

"Artificial intelligence is our next innovation,” he said with a firmness that made me further shrink away. “We could relieve the weary nurse in the middle of her 15-hour shift with an AI that can be both effective and empathetic. A true artificial yet sentient being."

There was a stark silence that followed the resonation of this last word.

Being.

It hung in the air for a rather long moment, bouncing off of the meeting room’s glass windows and filling everyone with a sense of grandeur. Mr. Kim held in-person meetings for this very reason: he had some groundbreaking idea he wanted the board to vote on. And now, he was offering me a chance to take part in this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. To help create an artificially intelligent being. I’d be lying if I said there weren’t goosebumps raising off of every inch of my arms and neck.

“You see, my own mom having been a nurse, I understand human error from long work hours is an inevitable part of this job. It makes hiring and trusting that your nurse isn’t misreading your chart or grabbing the wrong medicine for injection somewhat difficult,” he continued.

“But that’s why they train and go to school, is it not?” I asked, shifting in my seat yet again, hoping I wasn’t overstepping or speaking out of my place.

With a nod, he gave me a look, “Of course. But we’re only human.”

“So you think you can help solve human error in medicine with a robot.”

“For someone as educated and in touch with technology, I thought we could’ve avoided such rudimentary and abecedarian terms like ‘robot.’”

“Robots are programmable. They follow commands written into their code, their programming.”

“If we were just talking about code or programming, I wouldn’t have asked for a meeting all the way in London,” he said, obviously now losing patience with me. “This is not about a piece of technology that can do whatever you tell it--”

“You want something that can think for itself.”

“Exactly,” he said, almost breathless. He was obviously happy I’d finally grasped the point. And it wasn’t that I didn’t understand before, it was more along the lines of clarification. I needed to understand his purpose for bringing a programmer into this conversation.

“I want something that can’t just think for itself, but something that can make appropriate judgment calls when asked,” he mused, now sitting at the edge of the table right in front of me. This close proximity forced me to look up, his face baring down at me. With my breath frozen somewhere in my lungs I stared wordlessly. “Something intelligent. I want something that can comfort when needed, be a sense of hope if asked. Now, what say you to helping us make history?”

“What would I be doing?”

Mr. Kim immediately shook his head, pursing his lips together. “I cannot divulge any information about that until you agree.”

Biting my lip, I looked around the room at all the expectant faces. Elijah looked like he was vaguely interested in my answer. His eyebrows furrowed slightly when he saw that I was looking at him. Immediately after that he put his head down as if not wanting to give away his own thoughts. The man that sat beside Mr. Kim, the one who took out documents at certain times during the first board meeting and the one who sat in silence through this closed session--Yugyeom right?--he looked on with unrestrained curiosity. His long legs crossed as he sat away from the table, his head was tilted as he looked at me.

I quickly looked away, trying to focus on what my answer would be.

After balancing my own thoughts on the subject, I couldn’t help but think of what would happen to my job if I said yes. He didn’t mention how long I would be gone and what would happen with my workload during that period of time. There were so many questions I needed answers to before giving an answer that I deemed adequate.

“Ms. Y/N,” Mr. Kim coaxed.

When was I ever going to get a chance like this though? To help develop the first ever AI? No one’s even considering touching such advanced mechanics and engineering right now, considering the main competitors to Quantum are in a financial bind. Meanwhile, Quantum was experiencing both exponential profits and their stock profile only grew with each new medical breakthrough developed by Mr. Kim and a very close group of people.

The answer was never. Never would I ever get an opportunity to do something even partially as important and cool as this. It was now or never.

I looked up, my eyes locking in on the cold brown eyes that stared back, placid and waiting for an answer. From his stoic expression, I considered for a moment that Mr. Kim must’ve been a man that didn’t hear the word no all that often. Rejection was hardly a norm in his day-to-day life and certainly not in his business life.

So it only seemed natural to say the three words that so easily formed in the back of my throat.

“I’ll do it.”

#gotbang #noonanet #got7 scenarios #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #got7 fanfic #got7 fanfiction #kim namjoon scenarios #kim namjoon fanfic #mark tuan scenarios #mark tuan fanfic

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fandomlife-giver · 7 years

Text

Meeting The Queen (Black Maid One-shot)

Summary: The reader and Vincent go to the Queen for help and get more than what they bargained for.

Pairings: Vincent x Demon!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1904

Vincent was nervously gripping the cloth of his pants.

You glanced at him and rolled your eyes. "Master, there's no reason to be nervous. It will only be a few minutes, and you're used to attending this since you were a child, yes?"

He narrowed his eyes and looked at you. "I usually waited in the carriage."

A smirk twitched at your lips. "Don't worry, I'll be right there with you. Do you want me to hold your hand as well?"

"Shut up."

You chuckled. "Do you want to gain her support or not?"

His jaw ticked. "I have no choice. I need it."

You rose an eyebrow. "Then show it. I imagine she's a woman that likes to hear a man beg."

"You want me to beg?"

"If it was I you came to, of course I would make you beg. In this case, you have to perform as expected."

He furrowed his brows. "Perform?"

You frowned and gave him a serious look. "You're a Lord. Act like it."

He looked at you in offense.

You shrugged. "You did perfectly when you visited Lord Jefferies. How is this situation any different?"

He sighed and looked out the window. Then, he looked back at you curiously.

"Y/N"

"Hm?"

"While we're on the subject, what happened to Lord Jeffries? He was your master, wasn't he?"

You glanced to the side.

Flashback...

Jeffries laughed as he shook hands with the man that had his arm around his daughter's waist. "I knew you were the right man for my little Cece."

She giggled as she kissed his cheek and they walked away. Jeffries smirked with a cigar to his lips as he turned away. He jumped when you were standing in front of him.

His eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here?!" He grabbed your arm and began to drag you away. "I didn't tell you to come here!" He looked back and scoffed at the outfit you wore that was another maid's uniform.

"Why the hell are you wearing that? That's not your uniform!"

He stopped once he noticed the men and women had stopped dancing. They appeared to be in a frozen state. He turned back to you and it was then he noticed you were different. Your hair wasn't golden blonde, it was H/C. And your face didn't look as innocent as before.

"Eliza?"

You smiled in amusement. "Not anymore. My name is Y/N L/N, head maid to the Phantomhive manor."

His eyes widened. "Phantomhive?!"

You grasped the hand over your arm and he gasped in pain when you crushed it in your fist. "Stop! We had a deal!"

"The contract is finished, my Lord." When you twisted his bone, he screamed and collapsed to the floor. He looked up at you in fear.

You smirked. "You finished your goal. Cecilia will marry her fiancé and your legacy will live on." Your smirk stretched. "Don't worry, the Jeffries family will make plenty amount of money with him as the new head."

"No, no!" Your eyes glowed pink as you leaned down, and with a grin, your clawed hands reached for his chest. "No!!!"

You glanced back at him. "His contract was up." . . .

He let out a breath as you both walked down the hallway. His face relaxed and he managed a neutral look, but inside, he was screaming.

You trailed an amount of distance behind him and looked at the men dressed in red who kept their eyes on you. Most likely, their stare was meant to be intimidating.

"Lord Phantomhive"

You stopped as Vincent held out his hand to the man in front of him. You rose your eyebrows at the white man. His white hair, white clothes, white gloves, white shoes. It was a little odd.

"My name is Ash Landers, I'm the personal butler of her majesty." He smiled as he shook Vincent's hand. He glanced back at you and slightly froze, but he looked back at Vincent with a small smile. "She's been expecting you. Please."

He turned and as Vincent began to follow, your hand on his arm stopped him.

"Hold on...something smells." You stared at Ash as he kept walking and Vincent looked at you with furrowed brows.

"What do you mean? I'm sure he took a bath, it would be improper if he didn't."

You gave him a look. "Just be cautious." You released his arm and began walking ahead of him, but then his hand grabbed your arm.

"Fine, but you need to know your place."

You rose an eyebrow. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

He frowned and gave you a serious look. "You're a maid. Act like it."

You scoffed. "I know how to do my job."

"If you have any manners, now would be a good time to start using them. I'm your master and your my servant, you will show me respect and like it. I don't care if you don't, pretend you do. Just smile and act as they expect you too. Believe me, it's not hard at all."

Your lips twitched and you broke out into a smile, and even fluttered your eyes for effect. He hummed and walked ahead. You looked down at your hands and folded them in front of you before walking after him.

Ash opened large white double doors and moved aside with a bow. Vincent walked in and you looked at Ash one more time, before following.

"Her majesty will be with you shortly. Please, we ask for your patience."

Vincent smiled. "Of course. Take all the time she needs."

Ash bowed his head and shut the doors. Once he did, Vincent fell back on the couch with a sigh.

He looked at you and realized you were frowning. "What?"

"You-" *Ahem* "Sir, you shouldn't come out of character. It looks improper to simple lay around."

He looked up. "It's fine, don't worry."

Your eyebrow twitched as he loosened his tie and slouched.

You couldn't help it, and walked around to grab his shoulders and make him sit straight.

"What are you-"

"Shh" You tightened his tie, but as you felt the material, it felt cheap and thin.

You glared at him and held it up. "What is this?"

"A tie."

"You could've fooled me. The material and make of it is hopelessly cheap."

"We're broke, what do you expect?"

Your eyes narrowed. "I expect a master to care about how he presents himself."

You twisted it and his eyes widened when you ripped the tie from his neck. You sighed when you saw his reaction and shoved it in your pocket. "You'll get another one. A lot more, and of the best quality." You grabbed his hands and folded them, then moved his leg over the other and placed his hands on top.

"There, it'll do for now."

You stood behind the couch and folded your hands respectively while he stared at you in disbelief.

"Did you just rip my tie off?"

*Knock* *Knock*

He looked forward when the door opened and Ash walked in. He bowed his head as the woman behind him entered. Vincent stood and bowed his head to her. She only nodded and walked over to sit in the chair across from him. Once she did, she smiled.

"Lord Phantomhive, you wished to speak with me?"

He nodded his head and sighed. "Your majesty, I know my family may be a faint memory to you, but we have done so much for you, and I hope you are willing to accept me as the head of the Phantomhives."

She stared at him and let out a small laugh. "Vincent, I have never forgotten the Phantomhive family."

He looked at her in surprise. "Y-you haven't? We've been struggling since my father past, I thought you just had better, more important things to attend to."

She nodded. "I did, but that isn't why I haven't contacted you. Vincent, I can't support a family without a head. You were only a child, I had to wait until I was sure you were ready to take on a responsibility like that. You were just a young boy."

His eyes were wide, and you glanced down when you saw his fists clench. "And now? I assumed that role over a week ago."

She kept her head down, then looked up. "That's right! It was your birthday." She snapped her fingers. "Ash."

He appeared right next to her and bowed. "Yes, your majesty?" She motioned down and he leaned down. She whispered something in his ear. Once he stood up, he left the room and she looked back at Vincent with a smile.

Her eyes trailed over to you where you stood and she extended a hand. "I'm sorry, who are you, young lady?"

Your eyes slightly widened, and you looked at Vincent, who nodded his head at her, and you walked over to bow. "Your majesty. Y/N L/N, head maid of the Phantomhive manor."

She smiled as she shook your hand. "You have a very lovely name, Y/N. I've never seen you before, are you a new servant?"

You nodded. And it was then, the door opened and Ash walked back in and he held out a box to Vincent. "My Lord"

Vincent glanced at it with furrowed eyebrows, but the queen ushered him to open it, and once he pulled the red ribbon off and opened it, there was a ring with a sapphire blue diamond in the center. He picked it up and looked at the Phantomhive family crest in the band.

"That was your fathers. I had it cleaned up for you. Your mother sent it to me. I'm very sorry for her loss." He looked at her with a loss of words, but she only laughed. "It's yours now, Lord Phantomhive."

She looked at Ash again. "Ash?" He pulled out a file from behind his back and handed it to her. She grabbed it and opened it to a report and several pictures of dead women and children.

"There have been several bodies turning up behind the of shoe factory in London, some with missing limbs, and the children all had tattered clothing, along with reason to assume sexual assault." She lowered her head in sadness. "Unfortunately, every time we attempt to prevent another act, twice the number of the original show up. We already have sufficient evidence to target the culprit."

She turned the page and held up a picture of a man wearing white with black hair and violet eyes. "His name is Maxwell Chamber, mostly know as his title "Viscount of Druitt". He hosts balls at his mansion and we have reasons to believe he hosts secret black market auctions. We need you to confirm our suspicions, and when they are...take him down."

Vincent looked at her in surprise. "Take him down?"

"Yes. Vincent, if you do this, I will know you are ready." She rose up and faced him. "Ash will assist you with anything you need. You best start now, before anyone other innocent children get abducted." She walked to the door, and stopped. "I put my trust in you. My Guard Dog."

His eyes stayed on the door, even after she left. "Master" He looked at you as you smirked. "Shall we depart, sir?"

He cleared his throat. "Uh, yes."

You chuckled as you followed him out and shut the door behind you.

#vincent phantomhive #black butler x reader #black butler fanfiction

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