#I just show up on lower levels to see if I can help or pop into the halls to give out coffee

[sageispunk]

Sticky (18+)

Kinktober prompt: masturbation + squirting (day 18)

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: Joel wants to learn. So you let him.

"You were soaked, dripping onto the sheets and eager to be touched. But you knew he wouldn’t lay a finger on you yet. Not until you made yourself fall apart for him."

wordcount: 1.8K

warnings: newly-established relationship, reader has no specified age but joel is in 40s, pwp, mutual masturbation (m+f), fingering, sucking fingers, praise kink !!!! (per usual), intense!joel, sub/dom-ish dynamics, edging, nipple play, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, desperate!joel, brief cumplay, that's it i think

A/N: follow @sageispunklibrary and turn on notifs for when i upload!! here's my Ao3 (will be updated soon)

“There ya go, sweetheart, just like that..”

You looked up into his eyes as he sat on his knees in between your legs. Propped up against your pillows, you watched Joel as he watched you, earnestly rubbing circles on your swollen clit. Written across his face was a filthy mixture of lust and admiration, his umber eyes darkened as they focused on your body.

Joel wanted to learn you, he wanted to see what made you squirm, what made you quiver, and shake, and scream. He’d been imagining what this exact scenario would look like for months now, and none of those depictions could even match what you were giving him right now.

The way your legs were spread apart, showing him every single beautiful part of you, it had him uncomfortably hard in his briefs. You could see the bulge from where you sat, but he hadn’t allowed you to even entertain his body yet.

Your fingers alternated between rubbing vigorous circles onto your clit to sliding down to collect the sweetness dripping down your inner thighs. When you brought your fingers up to eye level and spread them, showcasing your web of slick fluids, you could’ve sworn his eyes darkened.

When you stuck them in your mouth just a second later, moaning softly and sucking off your juices, Joel’s eyes fluttered and he groaned, a hand going straight down to his hardened bulge for the first time tonight.

The two fingers withdrew from your mouth with a quiet pop! and you lowered them back down to your pussy. This time however, they teased your clit for a few seconds before slipping down to your fluttering hole.

You were soaked, dripping onto the sheets and eager to be touched. But you knew he wouldn’t lay a finger on you yet. Not until you made yourself fall apart for him.

One finger–your index–slowly slid inside of your cunt, your eyes closing for a few seconds at the sensation. It’d been awhile since you've touched or been fucked, so you definitely needed a bit of stretching to do. Especially if you were planning on taking the huge cock nearly ripping out of Joel’s briefs.

He was so focused on the way your fingers played with and spread your glistening lips, but when you let out a small gasp as you added in your middle finger, he couldn't help but bring his focus to your face. Your eyes were low, mouth slightly agape, skin glowing from the sweat. “So fuckin’ beautiful, baby.”

You whimpered at his intensity, his eye contact was almost too much for you, halfway wanting to scrunch up away from his gaze. Thankfully the other half that was proud of your boldness and eagerness please Joel.

Once your fingers were comfortably snug inside of your warmth, you began to slide them in and out, slowly, making sure to maintain that eye contact. Joel shifted a bit in his position in front of you, from your peripheral you could see his cock twitching under the black fabric.

Your fingers sped up. “Joel…”

“Hmm?”

Your head nodded slightly, eyes dropping down to his cock as a signal. “Can you…can I see?”

It took him a few quick moments to process your question, his mind a hazy mess filled with thoughts of ruining you. He rose up, on his knees still, and watched your face as he pulled the briefs down his thighs. When the thick, erect member slapped back up on his tummy, your mouth flew open into an O shape.

Your fingers subconsciously quickened at the sight of him in front of you, he pulled the underwear off his feet and came back to sit before you, your eyes never leaving his cock. The tip was a deep red, swollen and already leaking precum. Your mouth salivated, yearning to taste him.

Joel, on the other hand, was entranced by the way you were fucking yourself, the two fingers soaked in your wetness every time they retreated from your heat, only to be plunged right back in. The noises, the pornographic squelching coming from your pussy making him lightheaded.

A callused hand came to his cock, gripping it tightly and groaning at the long-awaited relief. You watched intently as he began to stroke it, his palm twisting down his length, to the base. He started off slowly, knowing if he didn’t that he’d likely burst all over you seconds later.

“Joel…” You mewled, matching his slow strokes with your own. “You’re so big..” And you meant it. His thumb barely touched the tip of his index finger as they were wrapped around his throbbing member. His eyes rolled back at your words, and you made a mental note of that.

Joel Miller likes praise.

His chest began to sweat, exposed under his unbuttoned flannel. You bit your lip, watching the squeeze of his belly from what you could only assume was Joel trying not to cum. To be honest, you wouldn't mind if he did, you’d show him just how dirty you were simply by licking it all up, but you did love how he put your pleasure first.

His eyes were on you again, with a new look of determination within them. “Fuck, baby,” He watched as you used your other hand to play with your breasts, pinching each nipple as you pleased, your pussy clenching around your fingers each time.

“Faster.”

Your eyes widened for a second, the order paired with his deep, gruff voice making your head all fuzzy, before you ultimately sped your fingers up. The squelching became louder, both of you mesmerized by the noise. You looked down at your pussy, turning yourself on even more at the sight of your beautifully gushing heat.

As you pumped in and out of your pussy, your pants became cries, the tips of your fingers hitting that deep spot inside you every time. “Oh, fuckkkk..” You watched the juices spill out on your fingers as you continued, Joel too, both of you noticing your now abandoned, needy clit.

It was as if your minds were connected because only a moment later, Joel’s free hand came to your pussy. “Aaaaahh!” You cried out, finally feeling the roughness of his skilled fingers ghosting over your sweet bud. He just went for it, laying three fingers down flat on you, circling in the same rhythm and pattern as you did previously.

Your body began to tighten up, feeling so much pressure and pleasure building up from your hands and his hand, and the way he was teasing the dripping tip of his cock now, obviously right on the edge of his release. Your eyebrows furrowed, looking up at Joel as you creeped closer to your own peak.

“Oh-oh…please! God, I’m so close, pleaseee…” You were begging, but there was no need to. All Joel wanted was to see you falling apart, unraveling right in front of him.

He leaned in a bit closer to you and whispered, “Come onnn sweetheart, cum for me…let go baby, I know you can do it, c’mon..” His voice was a bit hoarse and sultry, but his words, that’s what got you.

He repeated the affirmations until you were gasping and squeezing your fingers with your tight muscles, his fingers not letting up off your clit. “Ooohh, fu-, aaahhhh ohmygodohmygod, FUCK!”

Your vision went out for a quick moment as you trembled on the bed, your fingers stilling inside you. “Good girllll, good..fucking..girl..” Joel grunted out as you came down, and your focus immediately came back to him.

He pushed your hand to the side and slid his middle and ring finger inside of your slippery hole, feeling the pulsing aftershocks of your orgasm still rolling through. “Pussy’s so fuckin’ tight, baby, goddamn.”

Joel pumped his fingers in and out of you, pace quickening much faster than you could keep up with, overstimulation beginning to creep in. Your eyes fell to his cock again, which was being pumped with the same ferocity as your pussy. Oh.

You reached forward, bringing a hand to the side of his face to pull his eyes from your pussy back to your own eyes. “Cum for me, Joel, I wanna see it… please.”

In his eyes, you could see the desperation, for release, for you. “Cum with me?”

You shook your head, eyes dropping, not wanting to disappoint. “I don’t- I don’t know if I can, I’m–”

“Hey, hey, I’ve got you, okay?” You nodded, eyes low and filled with need. “I wanna feel you cum on my fingers, baby, I want you to squeeze ‘em…so fuckin’ tight..”

Your pussy fluttered around his fingers from his words, showing the both of you how much you wanted to cum, again. This time, Joel bent the tips of his fingers inside you, searching for and quickly finding that soft, spongy spot that made you come undone before.

“Ohhh…” You couldn’t speak this time, as your body began to quiver from the stimulation he was giving you. It was hotter than anything you’d experienced before, but also so fucking intense and you were beginning to lose control of yourself.

“Yeah baby, let it out, c’mon sweetheart,” The feeling of his finger hitting your g-spot over and over and over again while he edged his throbbing cock in front of you, combined with his breathy voice–it all had you unraveling again.

With a more whine-like cry, your entire body tensed up, suffocating Joel’s fingers with your pussy. He didn’t let up on you, but instead kept up his pace while beginning to jerk himself over you again. Your pussy sounded so wet, much wetter than last time, and you could feel liquids dripping down your thighs. Oh shit.

“Fuckkkk…” Joel groaned at the sight of you squirting on his fingers, his own hips now jerking as he pushed himself over the edge. His cum spurt out in thick, milky ropes, landing on your inner thighs and pussy, coating his fingers as well. It was so hot, the way he twitched and moaned, while he came, it was a whole new, vulnerable side of Joel that you were planning on seeing much more after this.

He panted above you, squeezing out the last bit of cum he had in him, cock slowly softening in his grasp. The both of you looked down at your cunt, admiring the mix of your juices and his cum all over you.

Joel took the hand that was previously on his cock, and swiped a few fingers through your messy folds, letting out a breathy chuckle at your overstimulation and slight jumpiness. Gathering a mix of both your fluids, he brought the fingers up to your face, and you immediately opened your mouth, allowing him to stick them inside so you could suck them clean.

His eyebrow raised, admiring the pure filthiness of your actions, “Jesus, sweetheart, you’re gonna kill me…”

You smiled and shrugged, a bit too blissed out to verbally reply. Instead you laid back, relaxing, as Joel repositioned himself down to face your pussy, licking a stripe up your messiness with a sinister look in his eyes.

A/N: i hope u guys enjoyed this!!! it was rlly fun to write (and complete smth), esp with as little plot as there is in this. i feel like every time i wanna do a one-shot, i end up doing the MOST and then it gets overwhelming... but this was good, it did exactly what i wanted it to. if u liked this, pls like, comment and reblog!! i rlly appreciate any support and encouraging words, feel free to leave any suggestions or requests <333

i do not give permission for anyone to copy, translate, or repost any of my works. 18+ ONLY -- i am not responsible for the content you consume.

#fawktober2023 #kinktober #my writing #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #tlou fic #tlou smut #tlou fanfiction #tlou #the last of us smut #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #the last of us hbo #the last of us #post outbreak joel #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x plus size reader #sageispunk

[curtsycream]

hiiiii

i saw your requests are open

Can you do poly price x reader x simon where they all get into an argument (Reader is lonely while they're deployed, she's not getting on their case, just expressing it) and the boys get really defensive and take it a little too far, resulting in reader staying in the guest bedroom for the night bc she doesn't wanna cry in bed next to them. The boys come to their senses and realize they fucked up and there's make up sex? Lots of reassurance and whispers of how much they love you?

Feel free to ignore, just figured I'd pop in :)

Could You Understand?

John Price x F!Reader x Simon Riley

My first COD request I hope I did right. I’m still getting down their personalities and such in writing but it’s a fun challenge. Kinda base level smut. Ps. Would never ignore ❤️

warning: mentions of anxiety (described?), light stomach bulging (I mention it twice I have a problem), double penetration, not proofread at all

Confrontation was never a strong point for her, the idea of accidentally starting a conflict made her cautious with her words. Nibbling at her lower lip she adds the final dish to the washer before closing it. Turning it on she leans against the counter with folded arms. Many times has this feeling of loneliness crossed her mind. Whenever they were gone it was a constant reminder of the fear she felt. She always found herself holding back the words. But it was as if a dam finally broke and she couldn’t help but let them spill.

Making her way into the living room she wraps her arms around herself. It was a first defense similar to showing a dog that you’re not a threat. Her eyes fall onto the two men she loved with all of her being. They sat together with the television on but it was clear they weren’t entirely focused on it. They spoke in rushed tones as if forgetting the rule of leaving work at work. It wasn’t much but it was enough to ensure they wouldn’t dwell on work-related stuff.

Clearing her throat she realized just how hard it was to speak up. It was an odd feeling as she usually found herself talking without much of an issue. When they turned to look at her the words felt stuck, unable to claw their way out of her throat. “We need to talk,” she finally uttered. The words felt hard and cold when she said them.

John was the first to speak though the way his eyebrows creased seemed to verify his confusion. “About what, sweetheart?”

The gruffness of his voice was enough to make her hold the subject off. To instead crawl into his lap and give him a kiss or two. But she knew that wouldn’t solve anything let alone reassure her.

Simon on the other hand said nothing but his eyes were focused on her. And that was enough, it was always the simple things with him. His attention was always undivided, “well..I’ve been thinking a lot while you were both deployed. I just feel alone, you know? It terrifies me knowing you’re both out there and not knowing if that’s the mission that will end with me living my life without you. I—I’ve spent so many nights worried about how or if you’ll make it back to me. Maybe I’m just thinking too much on this but I can’t help but think that way. It’s like my brain won’t allow me to think positively. Like there’s this sense of impending doom when nothing bad is really happening,” she explained.

It was silent for a moment that is until Simon scoffed, the sound seemed to echo in her mind. “And you think it’s any easier on our end having to leave you here? It’s not a friendly thought knowing we’re miles away while you’re here by yourself,” his tone was defensive. It was as if he assumed her words were to evoke a change or start an argument.

“I’m not denying that Simon, I just get so worried that-”

“We understand that you get worried sweetheart, but we can’t change our profession. We spend just as many nights worrying about whether we’ll make it back or not. We have to live through that not you,” John spoke up.

Whether he meant to or not his words seemed to cut her deeper. It was as if her attempt at getting through to them was blocked off by their defense. “I know I don’t have to live through that, but it still worries me when you leave this house. I feel so helpless for lack of a better word when I know you’re miles away and I can’t help.”

Simon shook his head, “how would you even help? You can’t help, you can barely help yourself.”

His words were sharp like that of a knife willingly piercing her heart. Maybe that’s why it hurts more hearing words like that from someone you love.

“I’m not trying to argue with either of you, I wanted to get my point across,” she said simply.

“Then why even bring this up, you always dance around what you’re feeling. We’re not mind readers, there is only so much we can do when you won’t even say what you feel. It’s exhausting,” The words left John's mouth without much of a thought.

Opening her mouth she closes it, her eyes flashing with hurt from their words. “I know you’re both probably just tired from your mission and that’s why you’re acting like this. Just forget I said anything,” she tells them.

She had walked away quicker than she meant to not wanting to say another word to them. She knew deep down if she had she would have started crying.

Placing her hands on her chest she holds back the tears that are brimming in her eyes. She holds off until she makes it into their guest room upstairs. The second she closes the door she lets out a low sob. Sitting down on the bed she wraps her arms back around herself. It was a horrible feeling as if she’d been yelled at. Having people you love downplay your emotions when you finally speak upon them.

Lying down on the bed she curls up her arms still wrapped around her. It was as if she was protecting herself from what was already done. Sobs racking her body as she found no use in calming down.

It wasn’t until they made their way upstairs later into the night that they realized. Simon assumed she would be in bed, their bed. Yet the absence of her presence in the room was like a punch to the gut. His eyes found John’s in the darkness as they stood in the space.

They didn’t have to think before they made their way towards the guest room. The door ajar allowing John to slowly push it open. There she was in the middle of the guest bed curled up. She looked smaller than she should have as if closing in on herself.

John to a step forward which turned into a few then a few more before he was sitting on the bed beside her. His hand cupping her cheek, wet with tears, “Sweetheart..” The utterances of the pet name seemed to work as her eyes opened slowly. Groggy from crying so much as well as sleep she stared at him. It was easy to tell that was what she was doing in the darkness. The tears not yet split made that easy to notice.

With crossed arms, Simon makes his way over to him, “We shouldn’t have—I should have said those things to you.”

She seemed to perk up, it was a first for Simon to say something like that. Not that she expected him to do so often but it was refreshing. “It’s fi-“

“It’s not fine, the things we said to you were uncalled for. You didn’t deserve any of that especially when all you wanted to do was express your feelings. We took our frustration from the mission out on you,” John told her. His thumb caressed her cheek a touch she leaned into without hesitation.

“You do so much for us even when you don’t think you do. Most don’t expect to be greeted at home with a smile and a warm meal. You do everything you can to make sure we’re okay. It’s time we do the same,” Simon says.

Sitting up a bit she looks between the two men with a puzzled look. She didn’t catch on until she had John’s lips on her own. The smell of tobacco and pinewood was strong as she wrapped her arms around his neck. It was comforting yet sensual as she felt Ghost behind her. His lips feverishly trailing kisses along her neck and shoulders.

Her mind seemed to move slower than her actions which was evident when she found herself naked between them. Her hands rested on John’s chest as he lined himself up with her sopping-wet hole. Eager wouldn’t describe what she was feeling especially when he finally thrusted into her. He was always attentive and careful at first, “how’s that feel, sweetheart?”

The words didn’t come but a simple nod followed by a moan was enough for him. Resting his hands on her hips he set a slow and steady pace. One that seemed to draw on the moans leaving her body. “Still so tight for me,” he grunted against her warm skin.

The gentle touch along her spine was enough to remind her of Simon’s presence. The way he was looking down at her caused her to squeeze around John’s cock. A swear left the older man’s lips due to the feeling. Keeping her eyes on Simon she spoke up, “want to feel you both..”

It was new territory something she hadn’t done before. But she wanted to be closer to them in a way soft touches wouldn’t do. “Are you sure, lovie?”

She nodded her head right away at Simon’s words as he seemed to be silently communicating with John. Looking between them she waited for an answer as John continued to thrust in and out of her.

“Okay.”

That was all Simon needed to say before she leaned against John. Her arms were around his neck while her fingers curled around the hair at the base of his neck. Simon held her hip as he pumped himself in his hand before lining himself up with her stuffed hole. It was already a tight fit with John’s cock inside. Willing himself forward he groaned when his cock began to slide inside of her pussy.

Digging her nails into John’s back she muffled her noises on his shoulder. “That’s it sweetheart, such a good girl wanting to take both of us.”

John’s words seemed to calm her down as she felt him pull out some to allow Simon room to fit. She wasn’t fully prepared when she felt both of them inside of her. Neither of them moved, letting her adjust to the new feeling. Resting her hand on her stomach she moved it a bit lower feeling the bulge there. The subtle reminder of just how big John was in girth.

“Oh—please move..” her voice was a gasp barely above a whisper. She had never felt so full before, but oh did it feel perfectly right. Moving his hands up to cup her breasts Simon thrusted into her. At the same time, John pulled out before slamming himself back in.

Groaning from the feeling of John’s cock rubbing against his own as her pussy squeezed them tightly left Simon on edge. “Feels so good,” he breathed the words out.

Her mouth opened letting out a flurry of moans as their paces varied. While John was moving steadily, Simon’s pace was almost erratic. “Fuck—just like that,” she begged no one in particular.

Yet her words seemed to set both men off as they moved in tandem. Their pace seeming to match both went faster pistoning their cocks in and out of her. “So good for us lovie, always so good for us.”

The words of affection caused her to whimper before she felt his lips on hers. The kiss was dragged out and slow only fueled by John’s lips on her throat. The light prickles of his beard on her skin were comforting in a way. “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. Always so caring and sweet for the both of us,” John’s voice vibrated against her soft skin.

She knew she wouldn’t last long from their affectionate words to their unyielding thrusts. Breaking the kiss between herself and Simon she whines, “So close, please.”

“Please what, lovie?”

The teasing tone he took on made her clench around their cocks. The action caused both men to groan as their cocks rubbed against her gummy walls. “Please let me cum, I’ll be good..”

“You’re always good, sweetheart,” John assured.

“Go ahead, lovie.”

She didn’t need to hear more as her eyes screwed shut. Her mind felt fuzzy as the warmth in her lower stomach began to spread. Gripping John’s shoulders she let out a cry as she came around their cocks with a tremble. However, they didn’t stop not yet at least as they were chasing their highs. To her, it felt like minutes but it only took seconds before they reached their own. Gripping her hips firmly John thrusted his hips up before releasing inside of her. Simon wasn’t too far behind as his cum mixed with that of John’s and hers.

Sighing breathlessly she shifted her eyes to the bulge in her stomach she had forgotten about. She could still see the outline of John’s cock against her lower stomach. But it didn’t last long as she felt both men pull out of her. Leaning back on Simon she watched as John left the room. Her eyes were concentrated on his back before they trailed to Simon.

“Lovie I-“

Shaking her head she leans up her lips pressed against his shoulder. “I’m fine, I guess I just worry a lot when you’re both not here. It’s scary to think something can happen on a mission and I wouldn’t know for a while until the mission ends.”

Simon noticed how shaky her voice was as if the thought of them getting hurt lingered in her mind. Placing his hands on her cheeks he leaned forward until his nose was touching hers. “It is scary, I couldn’t imagine having to stay home and wait for us to return. But I can promise you this, with everything in us we will always try our hardest to get back home to you. That’s how much you mean to us,” his words melted into her mind.

Keeping her eyes focused on his own she nodded her head, “I know you guys will. You always do and I’m grateful for that.”

“And we’re grateful for you,” John chimed in as he walked back into the room. He went straight to her using the towel in his hand to clean her up before pressing a kiss to her stomach. “We will always be grateful for you, I couldn’t picture myself loving anyone else besides the two of you.”

It was comforting to hear words like that from the men she loved. “I love you,” she said her words directed to both men. Pulling her close Simon kisses her forehead as he lays behind her. In front of her was John who also delivered a kiss to her forehead. “I love you too, sweetheart. Don’t be afraid to tell us when you’re worried or scared. We promise to think before we speak,” John’s words reassured her.

The same way that Simon’s touch did as his thumb rubbed her hip. “I love you, now get some sleep it’s almost four in the morning.”

That was all it took before she was closing her eyes allowing the feeling of both men beside her to lull her to sleep. She felt safe and protected between them, no longer as fearful as she was before.

#poly!reader #x reader #fluff #poly fanfic #cod 141 #cod smut #cod x reader #john price #price x reader #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #simon riley smut #john price smut #ghost smut #captain price smut #poly 141

[ackermanbloodline]

Take Me - Levi Ackerman x Female Reader

Summary: You allow Levi to take your viriginity.

Word Count: About 5k.

Warnings: Smut. 18+, MDNI, NSFW.

* * *

You and Levi have just finished eating dinner. Between the two of you, he is most definitely the cook. Tonight, he made the most delicious, mouth-watering lasagna with a Caesar salad and strawberry cheesecake for dessert. You could never level up to his culinary skills. It never quite made sense to you how he had the time to learn how to cook given his demanding and exhausting title. Still, though, you don’t question it.

As the two of you are teaming up to tackle the dishes, the space is quiet. Not in an uncomfortable way, but a comforting silence sort of way. That’s one of the beautiful things about your relationship with him: you two could sit in silence together and it would be just as intimate as any conversation. Levi is scrubbing the dishes (he, of course, insisted on it) and you rinse them off carefully and put them into the drying rack. 

His sleeves are rolled up to the bend of his elbow and you can’t help but sometimes stare at his pale skin and the faint veins popping up underneath it. How strong yet calculated his hands work to make the plates clean. And sometimes your gaze lingers onto his face, studying his sculpted jawline and his sharp nose. The way his eyebrows furrow together in concentration, just like out on the battlefield. 

“Hey, you missed a spot, brat.” 

You’re snapped out of your thoughts with the sudden low, raspy voice. You look down at the plate that you are just about to put into the drying rack. Some leftover pasta sauce is on the edge of the rim. You turn on the faucet again and run it over water, getting the spot off effortlessly. 

You say sarcastically, “Glad I have you to keep me in line.” 

“Mhm,” he responds with an equally snarky tone. “What would you do without me?” 

“Crash and burn.” 

“Obviously.” 

You smile to yourself and continue the dishes in silence. 

About twenty minutes later, you’re on the couch with your legs draping over Levi’s lap with candles lit all around you. While you’re reading a romance book, he’s reading the horrors of today’s newspaper. Every now and then, his hand drifts across your calves and gently squeezes. It seems like such a mundane gesture, but each time he does it, it makes your heart leap into your mouth. 

You somehow get distracted by him again. You read the same page three times over before you give up. You don’t know what it was tonight, but you were simply captivated by Levi. Your eyes drift over the page to his jawline again and then to his gray eyes, back down to his neck and chest. The long sleeve gray shirt fits him so well, clinging to his muscles and showing off the dips and curves of them. 

How the Levi Ackerman chose you out of everybody in the military, you will never know. 

You bite your lip for a moment, thinking about a crazy idea and debating in your mind. You decide to roll with it. You throw the book to the side and get up quickly, causing Levi’s attention to avert from the newspaper to you. You grab it from him and toss it on the coffee table and lower yourself down onto his lap. His eyes go wide. You interlace your fingers behind his neck and smile at him casually. You can already see his cheeks getting hot. 

You swoop down to his neck and gently place your lips on the skin there. Your entire senses become filled with the distinguished scent of his cologne. You practically could get high off it. He gasps softly, almost inaudibly, and his body becomes stiff. 

“Hey, wh… What’re you doing?” 

“Nothin’...” you say lowly. His hands land on your sides and you reel from him. You bite your lip, “Do you want me to stop?” 

“Did I say that?” 

He gently pulls on the back of your waist to close the space between you two. You giggle quietly and lean against him as your mouth goes to his ear, gently brushing the plump skin of your lips against the cold shell of his ear. He readjusts his grip on your hips, fingers lightly digging into the flesh of your curves and closes his eyes. 

For the past month or so now, you have been testing the waters with Levi to see how much self-restraint he actually could exercise when it comes to you. It always ended the same: him going out for a walk or taking a shower while you tend to yourself. 

You were a virgin for many reasons. Once Levi found out, he nearly lost his mind. In fact, he didn’t believe you initially. There’s no way a beautiful girl like you wasn’t swooped up and taken care of in the way you deserved to be. 

After a discussion, you two had both made a vow to take things slow. While you were a virgin for many reasons, you had fantasized about Levi taking it for a long time. So many nights you had fantasized about his rock-hard cock pumping in and out of you at an insufferable pace. Picturing what his muscles would look like tensed up like that. Trying to picture his face. What his moans would sound like. 

But tonight, you want to see it for yourself. Not in your mind, but right in front of you in real life. Maybe this sporadic decision is partly a result of the wine from dinner, but you’re convinced. You’re ready. 

When you enclose your mouth around his earlobe and make a conscious effort to deepen your breathing and ever-so-softly let out moans now and again. You feel a hard bulge growing underneath your pelvis. His hands land on your knees and travel upward on your legs, squeezing your thighs as libido spikes. 

Levi calls out your name. 

“You’re on thin ice.” 

As you pull away from him, you place gentle kisses on his face. Once you’re face to face with him and the pad of your thumb is stroking against his cheek, you speak. 

“I’m ready.” 

At first, he gives you a slightly confused look. But once you bite your lip at him, he knows exactly what you mean. His eyebrows furrow. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” 

His eyes switch between your eyes and mouth before a slight smile grows onto his lips. He securely wraps an arm around your waist and before you know it, he playfully slams you down onto the couch below like a rag doll and climbs over you. A laugh escapes your mouth but it’s muffled when Levi presses his lips on yours. 

His tongue is calculated and gentle as it enters your mouth. The slickness and warmth of it collide against yours and a rush of heat goes to your cunt. Levi’s touch travels to the side of your face and the pad of his thumb brushes across your cheek in soothing wiper motions. Your hand instinctively lands on his wrist as your spine arches off the couch in an effort to get him closer. The sound of you two passionately kissing fills the room. 

You manage to capture his tongue and suck on it. You slightly bob your head up and down a few times before letting go and a soft groan releases from Levi’s throat. His fingers lift up your chin slightly before he sinks down and buries his face in your neck. His hips lower further down into yours and you can feel his hard-on already through his black slacks. Sparks of lust travel through your veins once he slowly begins to roll himself into you, kissing your neck as he does so with his grip still on your chin. Your breathing picks up and your eyelids flutter closed. Your hand wanders up to his undercut and lightly pulls at the long strands of his hair while the other glides over the strong muscles of his back. 

Levi’s wandering touch moves down to your leg and slightly squeezes softly but firmly at your thigh. When your hips shift upward to meet his, he quickly wraps an arm around your middle and lifts you up. Your legs instinctively wrap around him as he brings you into his bedroom, all the while not breaking a kiss with you. 

When you two reach his bed, he sits down and lays back, wanting to see how beautiful you look while on top of him and flooded with lust. Your pupils are blown out and his are, as well. A light blood blush has spread across your cheeks. In his mind, you’ve never looked more breathtaking than you do now. He reaches up, wraps his fingers around your neck, and softly pulls you down onto him. 

You grind yourself down onto his dick and his pelvic rocks up to meet yours. Small whimpers of pleasure rip from your throat with each movement. Levi’s eyes clamp shut and he draws his lip in between his teeth. His brain is reeling from how hard he is and how much he wants to bury himself deep inside you. So badly that he doesn’t think there are even words in existence to describe it. 

When you feel your hips start to tire, you collapse next to him and he leans over to kiss you. Against your lips, he mutters a few words. 

“Touch yourself for me.” 

You are taken aback as butterflies erupt through your stomach with those simple words. You pull away and look at him with apprehension, waiting for him to speak again. 

“I want to see how pretty you look when you do it.” 

It’s not like masturbation is a foreign concept to you. That’s not what concerns you. It’s that you have never done it in somebody else’s presence in this way. You always did it by yourself, alone. And to think that Levi is about to watch you do it is a little unnerving. But also very hot at the same time. 

“Okay.” 

“Don’t be nervous,” he says, gauging the shakiness and apprehension in your voice. “You can do it.” 

Your fingers travel slowly down your torso and bury themselves in the hem of your pants, diving past your underwear. And you’re soaked. Although you shouldn’t be surprised since Levi has that effect on you, you somehow still are. Once you circle your entrance a few times, your touch goes to your clit and draws tight but lazy circles around it. Even though you shut your eyes in an attempt to feel less pressure, his gaze stays glued to you. He’s transfixed on the sight of your hand in your pants and your countenance. 

The second you quietly moan his name, you feel him shift away from you. You open your eyes and cease your actions for only a moment until you’re realizing what he’s doing. He undoes his belt and his hand buries itself down below. He didn’t do this very often but he needs to feel some sort of relief. It’s painful. Although you can’t see his cock, his black briefs are wet with his precum and he works carefully to spread it around his tip. Then he plants a firm grasp around himself and goes up and down, slowly. 

You both try to match up the pace with each other's movements. And, as a result, your breathing and moans are synched up. Each groan Levi lets out encourages you to go faster and each whimper you let out causes a wave of heat to reverberate throughout his pelvis. 

Levi sheds his shirt and throws it on the ground. You follow in his direction and pull your shirt over your head. But the moment is interrupted when you somehow, someway, get yourself stuck. 

“Crap. Levi?” you call out with a laugh as your arms are over your head and head buried in your shirt. “Can you give me a hand, please?” 

He chuckles, “Sure.” 

He sits up and pulls the fabric upward and your arms go free. Once it joins Levi’s shirt on the floor, you pull him in for a loving kiss. 

You smile, “Thanks.” 

You both also take this moment to take off your pants. This leaves you only in underwear and a bra. The two of you go back to what you were doing, watching each other with hunger and desire. This is hotter than you could’ve ever imagined. Your imagination is proved wrong when Levi’s hand ghosts over your stomach and plays with the hem of your underwear. His fingers dip into your underwear and trace along your sex, coating his fingers with you. Making careful traces around your clit. His dick throbs when he feels it, how wet you are for him. He pulls them out. 

“Would you look at that?” he says breathily, studying his fingers like they are the most interesting thing in the world. They glisten in the moonlight. 

Then he goes back to himself and uses it for lubrication. 

Fuck. 

You grab his wrist and pry it off and practically shove his hand back to where it was. You pull his dick out free from his briefs and take it in with all of your glory. It’s perfect in every way. As he begins to play with your clit, you take him in your hand and jack him off, slowly. His cock feels so smooth in your hands from all the slickness of you and him combined. It all feels so good, your eyes roll to the back of your head. You’re in a world of euphoria. 

His fingers work gentle movements around your clit and you shift your pelvis against his fingers to try to get him to go faster. His voice is raspy as he brushes his lips lower down to your ear. 

“Easy, sweetheart. There’s no rush.” 

A few minutes pass by and you can feel a coil in the pit of your stomach tensing more and more with each second. His fingers know what they’re doing. Not even you could get yourself off this quickly. You let go of his dick and wrap your hands around his strong arm as his fingers still work against your cunt. Your whole body is tense and you can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Levi knows you’re close and he’s slightly amused by how your body responded to his touch. 

He knows that your heart, body, and soul are all his. And out of the things you could ever do or say to him, that thought gets him the most turned on. 

He stops what he’s doing and with surprise and disappointment, your gaze falls to him. His lips collide against yours ever so slowly. He tilts his head to get a better angle onto your mouth and his tongue works delicately to trace along your teeth. When your hand reaches down to touch yourself out of pure neediness, he wraps a hand around your fist and gently but firmly pins it to the bed beside your head. 

“Mmm,” you quietly moan into his mouth. 

He pulls away and looks into your eyes. All you can see in one another’s faces are pure lust and love. Nothing else. 

He’s out of breath as his fingers ghost across your pelvic bone, teasingly brushing against the hair there. 

“Can I taste you?” 

“God, I thought you’d never ask,” you laugh. 

“Oh yeah?” He cocks an eyebrow. “You’re going to regret saying that, brat.” 

He gets up and stands at the foot of the bed. Seeing you splayed out for him, your hair making waves across his duvet, your cheeks flushed with desire, your full naked body in his gaze… he can’t help but admire how breathtaking you look. He kneels down, smoothly wraps his arms around your legs, and thrusts you forward against his chest so your ass is at the very edge of the mattress. And slowly, he spreads your legs apart. Your cunt, puffy and pink, is soaked. Practically dripping. While he loses his breath, you can feel your face start to turn red. You start to worry whether or not you’re pretty enough for him and what he thinks. When you feel his breath fan across you, though, your self-consciousness practically dissolves. 

Gingerly, Levi plants kisses along the inners of your thighs, his tongue occasionally drawing circular figures into your skin in a savoring way. The sound of his lips quietly smacking against your flesh fills your ears. And then he plants a kiss on your pussy, causing a jolt of pleasure to spike through your system. It’s amplified when he makes one giant stripe along your slit. You close your eyes and arch your back against his face. 

His tongue laps you up, brushing over your clit again and again. He closes his mouth around it and carefully sucks on it. He’s eating you as if it’s his last meal. His mouth works skillfully to draw various sounds from you as his sharp nose is buried in your pubic hair. He wants to hear you loud and clear. And it’s not hard to achieve. The warmth and wetness of his tongue feels nothing like you’ve ever imagined. It feels so good that you can’t stop from moaning his name loudly, not caring if other people hear. 

He draws back, sucking your lips into his mouth as he does so and they snap back towards you when he lets go. 

“You have the prettiest pussy, you know that?” 

You cannot even bring yourself to verbally respond to him but your pelvis contracts so hard with his words that it makes your head spin. Your breath quivers. 

“I want you to say it.” 

He pauses to let you respond. You take a few moments to catch your breath before looking down at him. His swollen lips are glistening and his hair is messy from your thighs being clenched around his head. His eyes are practically black. 

“What?” 

“I want you to say how pretty you are as I eat you out. And if you stop, I stop.” 

“Okay,” you say hesitantly. 

With a slight smirk on his face, his head dives back in between the apex of your thighs. He continues what he was doing before. He immediately draws a warm feeling that radiates throughout your entire body. He hums against your cunt and taps on your stomach twice to remind you. You feel a surge of uncertainty and embarrassment flood you. 

“I’m… pretty.” 

“Thatta girl.” 

He starts again. The coil in your stomach grows again, building and building. As you say self-affirming phrases out loud, with much uneasiness, Levi awards you with his tongue. And as you get closer to the edge, it’s hard to talk. Only one or two words come out at a time. Levi’s dick has quite literally never been harder in his entire life. 

With each word that drops from your lips, he hums in appreciation. The humming radiates throughout your skin and deep in your pelvis. Your hands find their way into Levi’s hair just to have something to hang onto. 

You feel something trace along your entrance. It must be one of his fingers, you conclude. 

“Can I?” 

“Yes.”  

He slowly inserts it in and it's an extremely foreign feeling. It doesn’t hurt, it’s just… weird. As it pushes against your walls, Levi licks at your clit to help with any uncomfortableness. He makes a certain motion with his finger. Your mouth drops with the stimulation you’re currently experiencing. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. Aren’t you?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, falling into his self-praise trap as you tighten your grip on his hair. 

Your legs begin to shake slightly and your body tenses up once again. Your moans become quiet and you want to literally scream out when he sucks on your clit and shakes his head back and forth. You feel one of his hands grab yours and interlace your fingers together. His fingering and mouth are relentless. He adds his middle finger. 

The coil inside of you is finally about to snap. It’s almost too much. 

“Levi, I’m gonna… fuck.” 

“That’s it, baby. Show me how pretty you are when you cum.” 

Waves of orgasmic pleasure rip through your body as you reach your climax. Levi continues his movements and talks you through the entire thing while you are completely silent. Your legs shake and your grip on his hand is so strong that your knuckles turn white. Stars dance at the edges of your dark vision. You haven’t cum this hard, ever. The things that this man does to you… 

His movements come to a stop as you come out of your trance. His fingers slip out and he licks them clean. He lays in between your legs and kisses you, hard, although you’re still a little dazed. You can hardly kiss back. 

“Well done.” 

You hum against his lips, “Mmm.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah. That was just a lot.” 

“Do you want to stop?” 

“No.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, Levi.” 

“Okay.” 

You sit up and try to flip him over, but your entire body is like jelly. He looks at you with a confused look written all over his face. His hands land on your shoulders and push you back down. 

He asks, eyebrows furrowed, “What?” 

“Don’t you want me to… you know… please you now?” 

“No, no, no… this is about you. I want to make you feel good. I come second… both figuratively and literally in this case.” 

You both chuckle. 

“Okay, I’m ready.” 

Levi picks you up and lays you up further on the bed. He adjusts himself a little bit and looks to you, reading your facial expressions to give away any sort of clue as to what you’re thinking, He brushes a stray strand of hair back behind your ear. You look up at him with love and adoration. 

“I love you,” you say. 

“I love you too. Always.” 

He props himself up above you with one arm and uses his other hand to swipe the tip of his penis against your slick cunt, trying to get some lubrication before going in fully. He brushes up against your clit a few times, which makes you jump back a few times as you’re still a bit sensitive from your earlier orgasm. And then he goes in. It’s only the tip, but it already feels uncomfortable. You hiss.

“We’ll take it slow. Come on, breathe with me.” 

His forehead connects to yours and you both close your eyes. Together, you take some inhales and exhales, maybe around 10? You aren’t sure. After that, you give him a nod to give him the permission to continue. He lowers his hips down a little, but that’s enough in itself. He stops when your fingers dig into his arm. He kisses your cheek. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” 

“Where are we at?” 

“Hate to break it to you but this is still just the tip.” 

“Oh my god,” you practically laugh, facepalming. “I’m fucked.” 

“Both figuratively and literally.” 

You slap his arm, “Shut up.” 

“But in all seriousness, I need you to relax for me.”

You take a deep breath. 

“Okay.” 

You make an active effort to breathe into your pelvic floor, trying to get the muscles to relax there. With a couple of deep breaths, the uncomfortable feeling vanishes again. You give Levi another signal. The cycle repeats two or three times before he bottoms out in you once his pelvic bone is sitting on yours. 

He hovers on top of you, “How are you feeling?” 

“Feeling okay. You?” 

“Never fucking better,” you both chuckle. “You… feel really damn good. Trying to not lose myself here. But I’m gonna start off slow and shallow, yeah?” 

“Okay, I trust you.” 

Levi retracts his hips slowly, just a few inches, then pushes them forward. It stings a little and it’s an odd feeling, like trying to stretch out a tight muscle. You try to focus on your breathing when your eyes are closed. You whimper a few times as he moves in and out of you as an occasional streak of pain overcomes your body. He plants a few brisk kisses to your lips. 

“I know baby, I know. It’ll feel good soon, I promise.” 

A few minutes pass by of Levi doing the same thing before you hatch an idea. You lick the pads of your fingers and reach down to play with yourself. It seemed to work when Levi was devouring you. Why not in this case? So, your fingers delicately stroke your clit in an attempt to drown out the pain and tension with pleasure. Once you find a rhythm, it works wonders. 

He feels you tightening around him, practically suffocating and drowning his dick at once. He looks down to where you two connect, how his dick glistens as his cock disappears and reappears from inside you. 

“Shit, fuuuuck…” 

His pace and depth picks up with neediness. Using the headboard of his bed, he uses it for leverage and power to his thrusts. It bangs softly against the wall as he continues to fuck you. Watching your breasts bounce with each snap of his pelvis adds to his arousal, chasing his high with vigor. The sounds he makes are intoxicating to hear. Heavy breathing and with an occasional whimper and moan here and there. Your name even slips out a few times. 

You try to pull your hand away from your clit to gauge how your pussy is adjusting to him and to your surprise, the tension is gone. Completely. Your arms wrap around his neck to pull him onto your body, needing skin-to-skin contact. He buries his head in the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

“Ugh, it feels like I’m about to cum already.” 

“It’s okay,” you breathe. 

“But… fuck… I don’t want to. I want this to last. I don’t think I could – oh shit – ever get enough of this. Enough of you.” 

You moan at his words and kiss his shoulder in response. Another orgasm is building, somehow. He sits himself up again and looks over you.

“Squeeze me like you were, please.” 

Your hand returns downward in tight flicks. Your pussy presses around his dick again which causes his eyes to roll back in his head. Hearing his moans become more and more frequent, you know he’s edging.

“Cum with me,” he almost demands. “I need you to.” 

With a few strokes later, you give him a nod and he pulls out, jacking himself off onto your stomach. The sight is so erotic as you experience your second orgasm. While he ejaculates, he collapses back down onto you and his cock slickly rubs between your bodies as he rides out his high. Your other hand claws down his back and leaves a trail of red marks in their wake. The sounds you two make together are just filthy. 

Once your bodies settle, you two are quiet. Levi is pressing his full body weight into you as you run your free hand through his hair. He places soft kisses against the side of your neck as you do so. Everything feels so surreal in this current moment. So still. A slight ringing in your ears and a glow in your vision. You could fall asleep here. 

A few minutes pass and Levi shifts and lifts himself up, looking down at the spiderwebs of his cum between your bodies. 

“There’s… so much,” you gape. 

“Yeah, well… that’s what you do to me. Don’t move.” 

He gets up and goes into the bathroom and you hear the faucet running. It turns off. Levi appears with a gray, wet washcloth in his hand and a towel wrapped around his core. With a few swipes across your stomach, he cleans up his mess on you. He straightens his spine and looks at you.

“Open your legs.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I need to see if you’re bleeding at all.” 

“Okay.” 

He carefully pries apart your knees and carefully inspects your vagina. He tosses the washcloth into the dirty clothes basket in the corner of the room. He sits on the edge of the bed and grazes his hand up and down. 

“Anything I can get you?” 

“Maybe some water.” 

“Sure. There wasn’t any blood that I could see. You go to the bathroom and I’ll get us some water.” 

He taps your thigh and leaves the room and you carefully stand up. Your legs feel like absolute jelly and there’s a slight stinging sensation in between your legs. You stumble your way to the restroom and close the door. You sit down on the toilet and go to the bathroom, the stinging becoming only a little more pronounced as you do so. You’re relieved to see that when you wipe that there isn’t any blood. 

You look in the mirror and you look like a fucked-out mess. Your lips are swollen and even slightly bruised. Your hair is absolutely wild, to say the least. And there are a few dark spots developing on your body. You trace your fingers over them with care. They didn’t hurt at all and you didn’t even realize that Levi had left these marks on you. You shrug. You grab another towel from underneath Levi’s sink and wrap it around yourself. 

You open the door to find Levi sitting on his bed with two water glasses with condensation on them. You smile as you walk towards him and take one. 

“Thanks.”

“It’s my honor.” 

You both chug the water and set the glasses on his nightstand. 

“I could use a shower,” he said. 

“So would I.” 

Levi stands up and rips your towel off before carrying you bridal style to the bathroom. You squeal with the sudden gesture. 

“C’mon, time for round two.”

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi aot #levi attack on titan #levi heichou #levi x reader #levi x you #snk levi #levi ackerman smut #aot levi #aot x reader #aot smut #aot fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin #aot #snk #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x reader #levi ackerman fluff #captain levi x reader #captain levi x you #captain levi ackerman #captain levi fanfiction #captain levi smut #attack on titan levi #levi x y/n

[notyetneedcoffee]

Yes, Ma'am

Kinktober - Roll Playing NSFW - Adults only

Summary: You surprise Steve and he's happy to play along

“I’m fine, Honey. I swear.” Steve did his best to smile.

“The doctor said you were supposed to take it easy, and instead your at your desk doing reports.” You frowned.

“This is taking it easy.” He frowned back. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“Anyone else would still be in intensive care. The least you can do is take the day off.”

“I’m fine, Honey.” He repeated.

You stared for a moment longer. Steve Rogers could be one of the most stubborn men on the planet. Fine. You had another idea.

A while later you stepped into his home office again. “Captain Rogers?”

“Sweethe…” The word trailed off when he looked up to see you standing in the doorway wearing a nurse’s uniform. Not just any nurse's uniform. It was a sexed-up version of a 1940’s Army nurse’s uniform. You’d swept your hair up into victory curls. A lace bra peeked out from under a too-tight, too-short jacket. The skirt was impossibly high, showing off the tops of tan stockings. You posed on high heels, holding clipboard and pen.

“Captain Rogers?” You said again. “I’ve been assigned to take care of you.”

Steve muttered your name. Pink touched his cheeks.

“Captain. No arguments. I have my assignment and I will not take any guff from you.” You frowned, leveling your pen at him.

“Yes, ma’am.” A slow smile spread across his face. “That’s good, Nurse. I don’t think I could manage on my own.”

“Then we better get you to bed.” You set down your clipboard and took his arm, as if to lead an invalid. “Now, why don’t you tell me exactly what needs attention.”

“Hmm.” He stopped beside the bed. Steve stared down at you with hunger. His lip traced over his lower lip as he appeared to consider his response. “I have this ache.”

You gave him a fake, innocent look. “Show me.”

He cupped his growing cock. “Down here.”

“Oh, no. Captain Rogers, that could be serious. Better let me see.” You lowered carefully to your knees. Running your hands up his thighs, feeling his muscles under the soft fabric of his sweatpants. You stroked his clothed cock. He moaned. You tsked playfully. “Doesn’t sound good. I need to take a closer look.”

You pulled at his sweatpants, lowering them over his hips. Steve’s cock stood proud before you. He threw his t-shirt aside and watched you while clenching his hands. You touched him, stroking the silky skin over his steel shaft.

“Does it ache here?” You kiss the base of his cock. Steve hummed. “Or here?” You circled the head of his cock with your tongue.

Steve’s hand came up and cupped your jaw but didn’t muss your hair. His hips rocked, urging you to take him deeper.

You could feel the way Steve battled to keep control. It sent a thrill through you to feel his thighs tighten and his fingers hesitate. Normally so willing to manhandle you to where he wanted you, you knew your outfit affected him.

Pulling away from him with a suctioned pop, you gave him a final lick. Steve whined. Actually, whined. You stood, slowing, stroking his length. “Captain, I think I know exactly what you need.”

Steve slowly unbuttoned your top. He traced his fingers over the edge of the lace bra. “You have what can make me feel better?”

“Mm-hmm” You squeezed his cock harder and ran a hand over his broad chest. His eyes nearly closed. “Let me check my medical bag.”

You turned away from him and bent at the waist to reach for the small case on the floor. Steve groaned as he got the full view up your little short skirt. Stockings and no panties. His fingers slipped over your sex, spreading moisture and making you shiver.

“I know I put it here somewhere.” You breathed, excitement building.

Steve watched your hips rock as you shifted your weight. You moaned as his fingers delved into your depths. His voice came out low and rough. “Better be sure you find the right medicine for me.”

“Yes, Captain.” You panted.

“Maybe I should help.”

You felt the head of his cock slide against your entrance.  When had you lost control of this scenario? Steve pushed in, stretching, filling you. You grabbed the edge of the bed to steady yourself, moaning. “Fuck.”

“Yes.” He moved in and out, hands digging into your hips, moving faster. “Just what I need.”

“Steve.”

He pulled you tight to him, arching your back and cupping your breast. “You know, nurse, I think it might be me that has the right medicine for you.”

“Yes, Captain.” You panted.

Steve thrust into you, moaning. He let you fall forward. “Need this?” He moved fast, hard. “Need me to fill you up?”

“Yes, Captain!” Your thighs began to quiver. “Please!” Steve lifted your leg onto the bed, changing your angle, his access. His cock hit deep. Your legs nearly gave way. He held your firm. Moaning and cussing, you felt your body tighten and shake.

“So fucking good,” Steve groaned. “That’s it, babydoll, let go.”

You keened, shaking as the warmth spread and washed over you.

“Oh, yes.” Steve moaned. “That’s it. Yes!” His grip tightened. He pushed deeper and came hard.

As your legs shook and breath slowly returned to normal, Steve stood you upright on your high heels. He reached down and ran his fingers through the mess between your legs. A grin spread across his face.

“Hmm. I think it worked, nurse. I feel so much better.”  

Want more? Check out my Master List.

#Kinktober #Steve Rogers smut #Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers fic #Steve Rogers fanfic

[thetobaccotornado]

2010 bill x fem!

TW: smut, head (m recieving), pet names, face fucking, dacryphilia, [soft dom bill], praising, dirty talking

i sat on the couch in the living room, my eyes drooping as i fought to stay awake, waiting for bill to come home.

the front door suddenly swung open, before slamming again as i heard bill make his way towards the living room. even though i couldnt see him yet, i could tell something was off with him, by the way his footsteps were heavy, and the sound of his boots dragging on the ground.

he stopped at the doorway of the living room, dropping his bag to the floor next to him and bringing his hands up to his face, dragging them down his porcelain skin with a groan.

“you okay baby?” i said sitting up, making my way over to him, suddenly intrigued by his behaviour.

“mmhmm… things in the studio were just- todays been such a long day… i just need to relax..” he groaned.

i looked up at him, pulling his hands away from his face. “i know something that can help you relax…” i said with a lustful look.

a smirk made its way to his lips, the corners curling up slightly in a devilish smile. “oh really” he said, sliding his hands down my sides. “and what would that be?”

————————————————————————

i look in front of me, bill sitting on the edge of the bed, his erection slapping up against his stomach as he frees it from his boxers.

he looks doen at me and strokes my cheek delicately, looking into my eyes. “you gonna suck it baby?” bill asks with a devilish grin.

i maintain eye contact, stuffing the head of his cock in my mouth, which earned a low groan from him.

“yeah princess… just like that…” he groaned as he grabbed a fistful of my hair.

after a while, bill could tell i was slowing down, struggling to take his whole cock in my mouth. he begins using his handful of my hair, guiding my mouth up and down his cock at a brutal pace.

“sh-shhitt baby.. such a good girl f’me… letting me use your pretty little throat for this” he groaned, begging to buck his hips up into my mouth, the tip of his cock hitting a certain spot in the back of my throat, making me gag. bill groaned at the vibrations of my gag around his cock, as tears poured down my cheeks.

“just a- fuck- just a little longer my love… m’gonna cum… fuck- gonna let me come in this pretty mouth hm? he said pulling me up off his cock slightly, making a pop sound as my lips left the head of his cock.

i sucked in a deep breath, catching my breath as spit and drool trailed down my lips.

“answer me” he said, gripping tighter on my hair making me subconsciously let out a whimper.

“mm-mh yes… please!” i whined, squeezing my thighs together, trying but failing to stop the burning beginning to form between my legs.

“thats my girl…” he whispered, guiding my mouth down onto his cock once more, continuing his brutal attack on my throat.

his hips began to buck wildly, his cock hitting new deeper angles down my throat, his hand in my hair still slamming me down on his length, my nose touching his lower stomach every so often.

“fuck baby… gonna- m’gonna cum… fuck- fuck!”he cried out, as i felt him release his hot ropes of cum down my throat. he pulled out, watching intently as i swallowed his cum, the sweet taste lingering in my mouth as i looked up at him, opening my mouth to show him that i had swallowed, in fact swallowed it all.

“fuck y/n… such a good girl” he croaked, catching his breath. he brought me up to his level before kissing my lips with such passion. “did so well baby, so proud of you”

****************************************************an/: OMG YALL! FIRST FIC POSTED! WHAT YALL THINK?

#bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz smut #georg listing #gustav schäfer #hes so babygirl #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz smut #girlblogger #femcel #bill kaulitz x reader

[zeijia]

nagi thirsts? got you bro

this has been haunting me for a while

like, imagine this.

him and his lazy ass having a hidden corruption kink that nobody, not even nagi himself, is aware of.

he would get random thoughts during the day, but he would just brush them off. let's say, you are walking around yours and his penthouse in your silly, adorable pajamas. your nipples quite visible, as well as a part of your ass since it's summer ane it's oh-so hot outside. your smile wide and innocent as you sit in your boyfriend's lap, kissing him lovingly as you talk about a new show you discovered.

obviously, except fingering or you giving him a handjob, a blowjob or him eating you out, you two didn't do it. you were too afraid, even if you were both over 20.

knowing this, and how sensitive you are when he fingers you or eats you out, nagi would unconsciously think about having you under him while he enters you. turning you dumb on his cock.

ugh i dont even know how canon it is or if you agree with me but idc in my head, it's real

I AGREE WITH YOU ONG,,,

ngh this made me roll around my bed and blush like crazy, nagi is ontop i fear . .

corruption kink nagi IS SO TRUE. Everytime he eats you out, feeling your slick folds on his tongue, or whenever you give him a blowjob, your eyes tearing up from his length bullying your throat, he can't help but wonder, “how good would it feel if I fucked her out, right now?”, those corrupted thoughts plagued his mind nonstop, and it takes all of his self restraint not to grab you, pin you down, and fuck your mind to oblivion til all you can think about is him and his cock.

He's well afraid you're afraid to give up your virginity, but the fact that you're a virgin turns him on. He can't stop himself from thinking how pretty you'd look, whining for his cock, all teary eyed and begging for him to take it slow. He imagined the sight of you crying, saying that “i can't take it─! Too big, sei!” and that absolutely made him pause on his tracks, his face turning red, his hands shaking, breathing getting heavier, and a dent on his sweatpants. He's been trying to stop these thoughts, to distance himself from dreaming about you in those scenarios, but he seriously can't do so. 

Be it whether you're wearing just pajamas, he'll immediately notice your perky nipples from it, according to him, it wants to break free from your top, or whenever you two are going out on a date, he sees you all dolled up for him, although sure, your eyes were the first thing that catches his attention, but next is down to your lips, how glossy it looks, then dropping down to your chest, he swears your boobs are about to pop out of the dress you're wearing, and your thighs. The dress that was above knee level, and exposing a little bit of your thighs almost made him fall to the ground and start begging like a damn dog to you. It took him all his self control not to do so, he barely could even mutter a word, so he turned away, his face flushed red, a hand covering the lower part of his face, and you heard a mutter out of him, “you.. you look pretty.”

You and Seishiro have had a lot of dates before, but your beauty will never fail to make him blush hard and start fantasizing about possible scenarios of what could happen during, before, and after the date, but a thought that always appear in his head is fucking you after the date. He knows it's a little fucked up, but the dress you're wearing.. it's totally teasing him!!

He'll just have to try to maintain his self control, to try and avoid all thoughts of fucking you :3 (spoiler alert; he fails to do so)

© zeijias. do not copy/steal, translate, modify my work. ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

#bllk x you #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #bllk x reader #blue lock smut #blue lock x you #bllk #nagi seishiro smut #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro x reader #nagi seishiro

[cupid-styles]

my favorite person

in which harry is a werewolf and he just wants to fit in with y/n and her human friends, but it's a little harder than he anticipated.

word count: 2k

content warnings: werewolf harry, smut (subby h, cum play, slight humiliation and tiny bit of impact play, dirty talk, a lil bit of dumbification)

masterlist | talk to me

fall/halloween blurb list

. . .

"Harry, you're being... werewolf-y."

"No I'm not."

Y/N turns her head to glare at him, her eyes darting down to the collar of his tee-shirt currently wedged between his teeth. She plucks at the fabric and yanks it down and out of his mouth, a quiet whine immediately sounding from his lips. 

"Humans at parties don't chew on their shirts." she reminds him, lifting her cup to take a sip of... whatever Halloween-themed concoction Lena and Remi had thrown together. 

"It's actually your shirt," he mutters as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

"You're acting like a puppy." she fires back, leaning back against the couch just as Lena walks — or stumbles, really — over in her pirate costume. 

"Harry, you're here!" Lena exclaims drunkenly, plopping down between the two. Y/N grimaces internally; it's not actually because one of her closest friends is at a sloppy level of drunkness that can only be achieved on Halloween, but because Harry is still attempting to acclimate to human social interactions. And so far, it's been painful. 

"Y/N said you were coming but we didn't actually know if you'd show," she continues, slurring her words slightly, "We've always felt there's something off—"

"Lena!" Y/N yelps, grabbing her hand from her lap and giving it a squeeze, directing her attention to her, "Did Claire make it? I know you wanted to try and make a move tonight."

"Oh my god, that's right!"

Y/N takes that as a yes as she pops back up, clumsy on her legs, but nonetheless makes it out of the living room lightning fast. She lets out the breath she'd been holding, only to see that Harry is worrying his bottom lip between his fingers. 

"Babe, don't take it personally, she's wasted." she says, scooting back over so their thighs are pressed together. 

"Your friends think I'm weird."

Her heart cracks in two and she quickly shakes her head, lowering her cup to the floor so her hands are free. She wraps her arms around Harry's broad shoulders, holding him tightly even if he's pretending not to be keen on physical touch right now. 

(In reality, he always is; he's constantly pawing at her and whining about cuddles, wrapping himself up in her warm blankets when she's not around. She's never asked if it's a werewolf thing or a Harry thing, but she knows he adores being loved on more than the average person.)

"They don't think you're weird." she murmurs into his ear, pressing a kiss to his hair, "And even if they did, who cares?"

"I do," Harry insists with watery eyes, a pout on his face, "I'm trying to get better at blending in and you're the most important person to me and— well, they don't like me, and that matters."

She sighs, but she understands. She lets go of him but intertwines their fingers together, giving his hand a small squeeze. 

"I know it's frustrating, but trust me when I say being a human is difficult," she says softly, "It's probably ten times harder pretending to be one."

Besides his pack, Y/N is the only person that knows about Harry's true form. Oddly, she had taken it all quite well, especially considering he confessed only a few months after meeting. 

(Harry had enrolled at her university, which is apparently something werewolves in their pack do — it's some reasoning about them wanting to keep people safe, but also it helped them better blend into society. They sat next to each other in a lecture and normally, Y/N isn't interested in interacting with her fellow peers, but in classic Harry fashion, he broke her down bit by bit with questions about the homework and what she'd done over the weekend. Before she even knew it, he was sitting in her living room, wrapped up in her blankets, eating the soup she'd made specially for him.)

But obviously, not everyone is like Y/N, and it isn't a lie to say that many of their peers are confused by Harry. He is very clingy with Y/N so people think they're dating, which isn't too far off from the truth — they've hooked up a few times and kiss and cuddle, but it's a weird gray area that neither of them attempt to approach. His eyes changed color frequently, he has an affinity for nosing at Y/N's neck when he's tired even if they're in public, and, because his time is split up between pretending to be a college student and dealing with whatever werewolf things he did when he's away from Y/N, he doesn't know much about pop culture or current events.

(One time, Y/N and Remi were talking about the new Olivia Rodrigo album and Harry quietly tugged at her sleeve and asked Y/N who they were talking about.)

So, yeah. He kind of stuck out like a sore thumb. But Y/N really likes all the things that make him him, and it makes her sad to see him down on himself just because not everyone gets him.

"D'you wanna go back to mine?" Y/N murmurs, their joined hands placed firmly in Harry's lap. "We can order from that pizza place you like and watch Teen Wolf. I know you love making fun of it."

He blushes (he always does whenever she mentions details about him that only she knows) and nods. It makes Y/N smile as she stands from the couch, reaching her hands out to pull him up. 

"I adore you, you know," she says, looking up at him with the most sincerest of expressions, "I think you're really, really great, just as you are."

His heart feels like it might burst out of his chest so he just leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. And because he's Harry, all he's able to muster out is, "I would never be this great without you."

. . .

When they get back to Y/N's place, she notices that Harry is being clingier than usual.

She doesn't necessarily mind it, and she can partially assume how his headspace arrived to that point. In the times that they've slept together, she was surprised to realize that he teeters on being the more submissive one in their dynamic. She figured given his whole... werewolf thing, he would have some deep primal urges to dominant her, but instead, it always seems as though he just wants to be loved on and taken care of. 

And really, when he crawls onto her couch, into the spot that she always snuggles herself into after a long day, and nuzzles his face into her favorite blanket, who is she to deny him?

So Y/N slips her shoes off and sits down in front of him, pushing her knees into the plushy carpet beneath her and swipes her thumb over his cheek. 

"You okay?" she asks softly, to which he simply shrugs his shoulders. Gently, she climbs up onto the couch and wiggles her body behind his, a confused humph leaving his mouth as she maneuvers their position. With her back flush against the couch, she moves Harry so his back leans up against her chest, pressing a kiss to the side of his head as she spreads her legs out around his hips. Harry has longer limbs than she does and there's a height difference between them, but with a little extra effort, she's able to reach out to spread his thighs apart. 

"Lemme take care of you, pup," she murmurs into his ear, hooking her thumbs under the waistband of his pants to shimmy them down. He moves pliantly, allowing her to do as she wishes in his typical quiet way. "You know you did so good today, right?"

"Not really," Harry grumbles, "You're just saying that 'cos you don't want me to cry."

"Of course I don't want you to cry." Y/N replies easily, pushing his briefs down to reveal his already hard cock, "But I wouldn't lie to you, and you know that."

Again, he shrugs, and Y/N ignores the immediate urge to gently smack the inside of his thighs.

"Don't be bratty. I'm trying to make you feel good."

"I'm not being bratty."

She sighs and removes her hands from his hips, "Do you want me to touch you or not, Harry?"

A beat. And then, "Yes, please."

Wordlessly, she takes his prick into her palm, giving it a squeeze as her other hand winds its way back around to his face. 

"Spit." she says simply.

"Do you have a humiliation kink?" Harry fires back, making her roll her eyes.

"No, but I know you do," she replies, squeezing his cock again, "Spit or I'm done here."

This time, he does as she asks, submissively drooling saliva into her hand. It makes her smirk as she slowly begins to pump his now-lubricated length in slack movements.

She can feel him becoming restless in the way that he starts to buck his hips to meet her strokes, steadily becoming desperate for more. She uses her other hand to move down to his balls, rolling them between her fingers, his chest vibrating with a gurgled groan.

"There you go, baby," Y/N coos into his ear, speeding her slick movements over his cock, "Such a pitiful little pup, aren't you? Just rutting into my hands like this?"

He moans again and it makes her smile, taking his earlobe between her teeth and biting at it gently. He winces at the brief sting, another lengthy whimper falling from his lips when she tugs at his balls. 

"You're such a sweetheart, letting me take care of you like this," she purrs, focusing her slick passes to the flushed tip of his prick, "Silly puppy. All you needed was a handjob from me to calm you down?"

Harry nods quickly, his head bobbing up and down before he leans back completely, letting it lull against her shoulder. She loves seeing him like this, completely void of his worries and responsibilities, just focusing on the pleasure she's giving him. If she's honest, it's an ego boost for her, watching someone as physically strong as Harry melt at the doing of her hands.

"Ask for permission before you cum," she murmurs when she feels his muscles tense.

"Please?" he gasps out, his dull nails digging into the skin of his thighs, "Please, I need to— fuck, please I'm gonna—"

She removes her hand from his cock, placing a quick smack to his inner thigh, "That's not how you ask." 

"Please let me cum," he mewls, his legs shaking when she returns back to slick passes over the length of his prick. "Please, please, can I cum? Please—"

"Cum."

He swears he's never heard such a wonderful word before and it's only a few more pumps of her wrist before he's coming, thick ropes drooling over her fist and to the base of his pelvis. He's cursing, eyes shut, and she holds him tightly as his muscles contract violently beneath her touch, shushing him softly as he comes down from the intensity of his orgasm. 

"Oh my god," he pants, bucking his hips as a silent plea for her to halt her movements. She does, knowing he always gets sensitive after coming. As he recovers, she lifts her cum-covered fingers up to his mouth, plucking his bottom lip open. 

"Lick," she instructs, waiting for him to drop his jaw open. He does and she places her fingers on his tongue, shivering as he sucks greedily. "Good job, puppy. Such a cum whore."

He groans, his skin flushed from a confusing mix of embarrassment and pleasure, and she smirks. 

"You don't ever leave any for me. Always so greedy to taste yourself," she murmurs, withdrawing her fingers when he's finished sucking on them. Lazily, he shimmies his briefs back up and flips onto his tummy, leaning up to catch her lips in a kiss. She squeaks in surprise but doesn't question it, welcoming the way his tongue readily licks into her mouth. He's always especially needy after they do things together, even if he's just spent 45 minutes making out with her pussy. She pretends it doesn't affect her, but in reality, it's one of her favorite traits of his.

When he's finally tired himself out, all traces of his orgasm gone and his breathing relaxes, he snuggles into her side. Smiling, she reaches out to run her fingers through his messy hair. 

"You're my favorite person," Harry mumbles dreamily, "I hope you know that."

#writing #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #one direction

[jazeswhbhaven]

That's What You Get When You Eat a Mandrake~ (Beel Butt L-Card Story: Ch.1) *React I*

-the bby

WE ARE LIVING IN AVISOS LATELY HUH?? Sure we got a healthy dose of our Hades bois, but there's been a lot of content with Avisos popping up lately and I'm like huh...it seems the fave locations are Gehenna and Avisos as opposed to Tartaros and Hades. Anyway this is the first node of the Beel booty story (hooray everyone that got it!) I would technically say this isn't spoilers unless you were unable to get the card then it's technically spoilers but everyone's seen it I assume but just in casseeee

LETS GO another two-parter...this time because there's a new boo I get to ramble about. Get yourself a snackkyyy snack and let's go ( ˘▽˘)っ♨

First we enter Dong-gyun that is at this gift store having his home-made butt shaped chocolates get wrapped professionally

Let me just say that Dong-gyun is a d o r a b l e. And I love him so much. For some reason he reminds me of Yoosung from MYMES and idk why when they clearly aren't the similar just the blonde hair lmao

Maybe it's the soft boi casual hoodie-wearing vibes I'm loving? Anyways

Poor bby was kicked out of the store for being a bit overbearing lol that and it's busy with everyone celebrating their first valentines day in Avisos because MC is also there (they truly do party for any reason it's great) Because they're out here making out, doing shit in the streets like this is wild lol

But DonBear (my nickname for him) made the chocolates for MC :)))) he has like a huge one-sided crush on them and I think that's just the cutest thing.

I also want to add that he's not one of the 72 either, he's just a regular day-to-day lower-level devil and I love that we get to see that. I wanna know how life is for devils who just are "there" ya know?? Like Nina for instance (RIP ;.;)

So he finds out where MC is at and he notices everyone and their mom (except for the 7 grandmothers, i wanna know more about that actually :o) are there with chocolates they have given MC. But he doesn't mind waiting in line.

I only wanted to add this screenshot because I'm crying, Minhyeok forever in the friendzone trenches because "friendship chocolates?????" free this man please.

Ahhh so our DonBear was able to to make it and he prepares to give his chocolates until....

Oh

First. Why

Is

He

So

HOT???

I can imagine how his jaw had to unhinge unhumanly to eat that pile of chocolate and I'd just be like o__o oh

Second...girl...he gonna give you back that chocolate alright if you want (yes this is a poop joke. no i am not into that i just find it funny mc really sat there and asked for it back like you're either gonna get vomit or poop which one?)

The funny part tho is Beel is casually like "I already ate it tho"

Yes bby we know that. I'd like for you to replace it because you prefer to be childish and eat things that don't belong to you to show your dominance or whatever okay <3

See? See the fucking snark this one has?

>:P he's getting bitten

Leave DonBear alone D: at least let us eat our butt shaped chocolates he spent time making from scratch (also look at his face I'll protect you omg)

Beel.

Beel. Beel. You're going in time-out I swear. The naughty corner.

Sigh....maybe you'll be forgiven if you let DonBear make another batch of chocolates for me

AND this part? Where Beel fainted and is having some kind of episode???? I was like omfg it's whatever was in the chocolates isn't it? It's the damn mandrake stuff isn't it?

And our Avisos bois came to the rescue immediately because they thought it was some kind of attack. (it's really cool how they can sense stuff like this immediately)

So while everyone's trying to help Beel and figure out what's wrong with him and take him to the hospital and such (and dragging DonBear along because they suspect it's him that did it) we go into a flash back!!!

So Dong-hyung was hanging out and being the designated driver kinda friend (the one that stays sober and watches the others) but he doesn't really drink like that anyway so he doesn't mind babysitting.

LMAO so these two characters waltz into the bar and DonBear is kinda side-eyeing them because I mean I'm crying why is MC a clown? xD it makes me think of those memes again dammit

MC showing their ID at the bar 💀💀💀💀💀💀

anyways

So what's funny is that MC is me because they're drunk asf slurring and saying some shit and Beel is just thinking this is cute and just letting it happen such a bad influence... xD

ME coded.

Silly drunk clown bitch hours.

My ass would be laughing at everything and saying the floor is lavvvaaa Beel...the floor is lavvvaaaaaa carry meeeeee

xD

So iirc MC ends up bumping into DonBear and he just knows how to handle the situation perfectly and this was after he realized that it was Beel and MC in disguise and not just two randos in the bar.

Beel gestured for him to come outside with them and he's fanboying about the situation and I find that entirely cute. He's a sweetie and I want good things for him.

DREAM ON DONG-HYUNG I BELIEVE IN YOUUUU????

even though we all pretty much know how this works though for the most part when it comes to who is the designated 72. Someone should draw him in the uniform though (throwing this idea out there)

LOL so he flopped MC on DonBear and is just like so this kind of night arouses angels...so hold MC for me in case I have to fight or something. And I'm just like oh dear...the poor bby is kinda struggling to carry MC are they that heavy? Lol

He's so determined. I love it

So here, DonBear is asking a lot of questions and one of them is if Bael and Beel are twins, and Beel is like yeah Bael would not like it if I said yes so I'll say no even if we are.

Beel your roundabout answer is killing me lmao

He....he....he almost came from being petted on the nape of his neck?????? *screams*

He's perfect for dry humping, and anything of the sort that doesn't involve penetration because he's so sensitive I love him. I could hug him and rub his back and he'd love it. (granted this means tho that this is only for his favorite person or the person he's crushing on this sounds like he wouldn't react this way to a stranger)

So Bael was getting onto Beel for MC being in this state and just going on and on and Beel is like "Well it's not like I could have just left MC there no way they're drunk :D" so gentlemanly like and Bael agrees that the devils in Avisos are gentleman (are they...? I would assume some aren't)

ANNDDD I've hit the limit my lovelies. (on screenshots allowed in said post) So we're gonna stop here until we get to the other post ^^ see you thereeeee

->Part Two<-

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb beelzebub #whb dong hyun #whb screencaps #whb spoilers #card spoilers #whb reacts

[pedroshotwifey]

Idk if you still do those nsfw requests... but if you do, can I request Nr 39 and either Din? Because I feel like din would be so taken aback by everything, as he just seems like a virgin at heart (sorry not sorry🥲)

Hi baby!! Don't you know sub/virgin Din is my specialty? 😏 I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoy!!

Pairing: Innocent!Din Djarin x GN!reader

Warnings: premature ejaculation, grinding, innocence kink, embarrassment, stuff I'm probably forgetting

Word count: 927

Cramped

*****

“Din, I really don’t think there’s enough room in that thing for all three of us,” you admit. 

“No, look,” he walks over to the small ship and points at the bubble on top. It appears to be a repurposed droid pit. “Grogu will sit up here.” 

You bite your tongue and nod, not wanting to let him down but knowing you need to explain that it’s just not going to happen. The N1 is a big downgrade from the Crest, but you can’t blame him for trying to make it work. 

“That’s really smart, but look at the cockpit.”

You watch as his helm turns to the small, single seater cockpit. 

“What do you mean?” 

You resist the urge to just stare at him. What does he mean ‘what do you mean’? 

“Din, do you really want to travel for days at a time cramped in that thing with me? I’d practically have to be in your lap.” You ignore the way your cheeks heat as a crude image pops into your head. You’ve been painfully aware of Din’s innocence for as long as you’ve been flying with him, but this is next-level. Does he really not get why this may be a problem? 

“It’ll be fine,” he says. “We can stop more often if we need to.” 

You sigh at him, about to bring up the fact that you’ll be wasting a ton of fuel if you stop every day you’re traveling. 

“Here, I’ll show you.” 

“Din, I–” 

“Just try it, please?” 

He’s already lifting the seal and getting in, settling himself in the pilot’s chair. He shifts his hips and spreads his thighs as he gets comfortable and makes room for you. It makes your mouth go dry. He’s a few years older than you, but absolutely fucking clueless. 

He says your name when you don’t move from the spot you’re standing in. “C’mon,” he motions his hand for you to come take a seat. You chew on your lip for a second but decide to indulge him. You’ll just have to be careful. 

You grab his hand and let him help hoist you up, bringing you to stand between his legs and then lower down. You make sure to shift down a bit so that your ass is on the edge of the seat instead of against his crotch. Of course, though, Din’s hands come to your hips to drag you toward him, getting the two of you flush to each other. 

You can feel heat in the tips of your ears now as you’re pulled over him slightly. You know he’s just trying to make sure you’re comfortable, but his efforts have the opposite effect when you can feel his soft cock pressing against you. Your body stiffens and you bite your lip, sending a prayer up the maker that it stays that way. 

The bulge is fucking impressive, you’re not going to lie. You’ve caught glances of it before—intentional or not—but this is insane. 

You try to subtly move yourself off of him the tiniest bit, more to relieve the pressure to his appendage than anything else. He lets you do so, but not much with his hands still on your hips with nowhere else to go. Then he moves them to your thighs, one resting on each. Okay, maybe they did have somewhere else to go. 

Another image shoves it’s way into your head, this one of his hands further between your legs, no barrier between the two of you as he uses one of them to—

You shake yourself out of it, squirming as you silently scold yourself. 

“See? It’s fi—” 

He chokes on his words as your ass brushes against him, the brief friction something he’s not used to. 

“Fuck, sorry,” you apologize frantically, trying to get up off of him so you don’t make him uncomfortable. You can already feel him stiffening. He moans softly and his hips shift a little as well, causing even more rubbing on parts that do not need to be rubbing. His hands tense on your thighs, holding you to him so you can’t move. You yelp, unsure of how to get out of this predicament without stirring him further. 

“What the fuck? Do that again. I liked it.” 

Your jaw drops. 

“W-what?” 

“Do that again. What was that?” 

“I–” 

He bucks his hips again, stimulating his now fully hardened cock. 

“Mph, that.” 

“I-Din, I don’t think you unders–” 

But he does it again, and you can feel arousal stirring within you despite yourself. He ruts up, a moan crackling through his modulator. His hands grasp harshly as he starts to grind against you. 

“D-Din–” 

Suddenly, he groans behind you, his body tensing and trembling as your face floods with embarrassment. You can feel his cock twitching and pulsing, a wet spot forming in his flight suit. It goes on for longer than you’ve ever seen before. You throb with want between your legs as you listen to him come down from his orgasm.

The two of you sit in silence, Din panting slightly as you try to process what just happened. 

“Cyar’ika?” 

You swallow. “Yes, Din?” 

“W-what was that?” 

“You just came,” you explain, trying to keep your hoarse voice loud enough for him to hear. 

“Oh,” he says, though you can tell he has no idea what the fuck you just said.

“Can I do it again?” 

You let out a shaky breath and turn your head slightly his way, knowing you’re not getting out of this explanation.

*****

Here’s the link to the prompt list if anyone else would like to request 🫶

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #pedro pascal smut #smut #pedro pascal characters #gender neutral reader #the mandalorian x gn!reader #gn!reader #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin smut #requested fic #fic request

[ren1327]

Spoilers!!!

"Loser Baby" frame analysis (1/3) (With lyrics)

I feel obligated to do this with all of my ships. So! With the power of two sugar free redbulls, skinny pop and the homoerotic audacity the makers gave me!

Lets do this!

Red = Husk Pink = Angel Dust Purple = Both Normal = My commentary

 [HUSK] So things look bad, and your back's against the wall Your whole existence seems fuckin' hopeless You're feelin' filthy as a dive bar bathroom stall Can't face the world sober and dopeless You've lost your way, you think your life is wrecked Well, let me just say you're correct

So, Angel just let lose he wants to self destruct to the point of being too broken for Valentino to want him. He has a outburst and Husk is the only one there to see it. So what does kitty boi do? Sing a song, of course. But where Charlie would sing something encouraging and positive...Husk wants reality. He knows Angel plays a role to deal with all the messed up shit he's in. He showed Husk a sliver of his true self. And Husk knows he cant break that wall, Angel has to. So he engages by slapping him with that reality, snapping him out of his funk.

[ANGEL DUST] Wait, what?

[HUSK] You're a...loser, baby

Angel gets into Husk's space often to flirt/piss the bartender off. So why not return that energy to Angel when he's vulnerable and unassuming? Angel often grabs his face, making Husk face and look at him by force. Husk doesn't go that far. Just his finger on his nose. Just enough contact to get Angel's attention and make sure he's paying attention to his words.

A loser, goddamn baby You're a fucked up little whiny bitch

Husk needs more of a reaction, so why not casually insult him? Angel often thinks this about himself; but Husk says it out loud.

[ANGEL DUST] Hey!

And Angel is full on reactive, listening and giving Husk his full attention. It worked.

[HUSK] You're a loser, just like me

[ANGEL DUST] Thanks, asshole

[HUSK] You're a screw's-loose-boozer An only one-star reviews-er You're a power-bottom at rock bottom But you got company

Husk is successfully shifting Angel's sadness out, but also getting on his level, however, notice how his head is lower than Angel's. Angel often sees himself as powerless. Looked down upon. And Husk takes a moment to look up at Angel, showing him he doesn't see him as lower, he sees him as an equal. "You've got company." His issue wasn't Angel being a porn star or promiscuous, like others and even other hotel staff/patrons do. It was him putting on a mask and not being himself towards Husk. Fun thing about cats, they show thier belly to only those they trust. So Husk laying on the filthy ground with his belly to Angel's back, he's allowing himself to be vulnerable right back. (My cat did the same before biting the shit out of my hand, the little demon spawn.)

[ANGEL DUST] This supposed to make me feel better?

[HUSK] There was a time I thought no one could relate To the gruesome ways in which I'm damaged But lettin' walls down, it can sometimes set you straight! We're all livin' in the same shit-sandwich

Husk then sits next to Angel, closer and on his level. They're in similar situations. Not just being in Hell, but signing themselves away.

[ANGEL DUST] I sold my soul to a psychopathic freak

Angel angrily points out the obvious, but to him, its more than a fact. Its a shameful truth he hates. Husk laughs because "same!"

[HUSK] Haha! And you think that makes you unique? Get outta here, man!

He holds a hand out to Angel to help him stand, but its more than that. It's understanding. The loss of control under someone, to one's vices, to ones self destructive wishes.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel analysis #huskerdust

[iamnotshazam]

i saw the LotR films before ever reading the books and i love both. i turn now more to the books than the movies for enjoyment.

but i also feel like the three movies just. fucken. cracked it out of the park with some important things and i had NO idea how good i had it as a little nerd delving into the extended edition dvd extras. if i were a fan in the gritty-obsessed 90's hearing rumors of these movies, i would have expected at best stuff like: B-list acting that occasionally broke through with honest emotions. some skilled costuming and weaponry popping up in important scenes but mostly just knock-off viking opera aesthetic. homebrew DND imagery that made it painfully obvious by contrast which scenes they actually spent money on the set design and dressing.

and WETA and New Line and everyone on this!!! they did NOT accept lower standards cause it was fantasy! everyone else would have. This was genre filmmaking, this would have been perceived at the time as more like How the Grinch Stole Christmas than a Cecil B Demille-level epic movie. And the costuming department, composer, propsmaster and set designer all said "NO" and put their whole pussies behind it!

Jesus Christ the quality in those movies! Ian McKellan has undershirts like Gandalf the White might have! Bernard Hill has realistic quilted padding underlayers all made in the style a Rohirrim tailor and armorer would have made! Minas Tirith has a rat catcher because someone took a doodle and decided that would make sense in the lived reality of a massive city! Movie makers do not usually do this. It is NEVER about what isnt seen or necessary for the shot. You are judged professionally not by if you can cut corners in order to help production and still seem good, but by HOW MUCH.

I cannot blame anyone who worked on the Amazon series in the hands-on creative roles because the results are what they have been trained to do. Blame executives. Blame executives! Of course chainmail is going to be, i dunno, plastic or sewn into the edges of costumes if you dont have the money or time for real chain mail! And because it cannot be overstated how unusual the LotR trilogy filmmaking process must have been. It's like being given an average lower middle class family grocery budget and told to make a fancy Christmas dinner for 20 all by yourself with no help versus having a trained staff, a blank check, and Martha Stewart on retainer. That's not an exaggeration. That's the rhetorical gulf that someone (Valar BLESS them) in the bureaucracy had to wade across to convince execs to buy into the details. The Lord of the Rings movies are WEIRD.

And it shows. Bookfans bitch about the story changes, the balrog wings, the characterization differences. (Denethor was a reasonable person and even outsider Pippin could see he was very admirable to the people of Gondor, which made it sooooo much creepier when he suddenly snapped but i digress) but NEVER about the music. the filming locations. the set designs. the costumes. the props. the things that i really think count the most to help invest people in a different world!

No one ever complains about taking out the scene where Rohan is summoned to Gondor's aid with the Red Arrow, because yeah they could have made it work, they made the importance of other props like Anduríl and, oh yeah, the One Ring very clear, but they had a better idea.

The beacons.

The beacons were not in the book.

Not in the same way, really, because while incredible to think about the narrative style was close third person, and you cannot follow beacons to rhapsodize about them when you're a tired hobbit getting saddle sore crossing national borders with a grumpy old wizard. Pippin sees the Beacons of Gondor at a distance when he's falling asleep and Gandalf tells him they're a mustering signal within Gondor. Which makes sense, really, they require some upkeep and would be awkward for two nations to negotiate how to handle - nevermind. That's it. That's all the beacons are in the text.

Someone adapting the script saw a moment that was ho-hum in the book but realized ! 💡⚡️That would look really great on camera! And it is now routinely listed as one of the most important cinematic moments of anything, ever.

There are so many things I still want to ask Peter Jackson, "Why???" but the original trilogy movies overall? Work. They work and they do more than work, they helped elevate an entire artform that I don't honestly know that much about and oh god i usually dont ramble about them like this im embarassed is this already acknowledged in tumblr tolkien circles? or are we just split into different little fandoms in order to keep the peace?

#tolkien #peter jackson #weta workshop #gondor #rohan #gandalf #pippin #theoden #the lord of the rings #lotr #denethor #the movies . . . is good? the movies is good!!! #jrrt

[grailfinders]

Grailfinders #338: Taisui Xingjun

if I can say one nice thing about taisui xingjun, it’s that lasengle went out of their way to make him feel very cursed. sometimes waiting for a servant to pop up in their event gives you cool new abilities to work with that aren’t part of their in-game kit, and sometimes they show up at the last second, throw out a vague party buff on for the last fight, and then fall asleep immediately. this time’s the second one.

thankfully, taisui’s not all that difficult a build, at least on the surface. he’s a Divine Soul Sorcerer, and that’s it! though to be fair, that class alone is really kind of mashing together two classes as-is, so he’s still not that simple.

check out his build breakdown below the cut, or his character sheet over here!

next up: make sure to like, comment, subscribe, and turn on notifications to see this build first!

Ancestry & Background

if we were being more objective taisui’d probably be a custom lineage, but it’s our build and I want him to be able to turn into his big form at will, so he’s a Changeling. with that, he gets proficiency in performance and persuasion, and his plastic presentation makes him a Shapechanger as well, so he can turn into any small or medium race as long as they have the same number of limbs, and you can’t turn into anyone specific without having seen them first. on top of all that, you get bonuses of +2 Charisma and +1 Dexterity.

finally, your background. you literally just sit there the whole event until like three deus ex machinas pile on top of each other to summon you into a vaguely human body, so that sounds like the Book of Many Things’ new background, the Rewarded, to me. that nets you proficiency in Insight and Animal Handling, as well as the Lucky feat for literally free. why anyone would ever pick a different background ever again, I don’t know, but now you get three luck points a day, and you can spend them forcing a reroll on any d20 roll directly affecting you and pick the better option of the two. whomst’d’ve the fuck thought putting that on a background was balanced.

Ability Scores

your highest score is your Charisma, because you’re basically skating by on your good looks and hoping that’s enough to make people farm the ungodly number of Cons needed for all your ascensions and NP levels. it is, but that doesn’t mean I’m happy about it. second highest is your CON. yep, there’s a buncha them in there. third is Dexterity, because you don’t wear armor. like, at all. honestly this should probably be lower considering how easily you get eaten, but I’m trying to make a build that’ll survive level 1. after that comes your Intelligence, because the Con are quick studies at least when it comes to construction and video games, so they’re at least a little above average. that means your Strength is nothing to write home about- you’re a god, but you’re a kid, and your arms are kind of noodly. finally, we’re dumping Wisdom. as the Con you’re easily swayed, and as a god your tired ass isn’t helping anyone on watch duty.

Class Levels

1. as mentioned before, you’re a Divine Soul Sorcerer, which gives you Spells you cast using your Charisma. before we go into those, you also get Divine Magic, letting you pick spells from the cleric spell list as well as the sorcerer’s. you also get Inflict Wounds for free for your spooky shadow hands. I know taisui is technically true neutral, but his god form’s a god of curses and retribution, so I’m saying at the very least his powers are evil-leaning. speaking of, you’re Favored by the Gods, so if you fail a save or attack, you can add 2d4 to it once a short rest. whether being favored by this god is a good thing or not is anyone’s guess.

so then, spells! for cantrips, Blade Ward will keep your body in once piece for now, Morgan worked hard on that, while Chill Touch is another kind of spooky hand that prevents people from healing, which is pretty cursed in my book. you can also whip out your bell and Toll the Dead, dealing extra damage to injured targets, your you can curse someone with an Infestation, forcing them to move in a random direction if they fail a constitution save.

for leveled spells, Bane is a light cursing for a first level spell, forcing up to three creatures to make a charisma save. if they fail, every attack or save made for up to a minute gets a d4 taken away from it. we’re also giving you Mage Armor for +3 AC because we’re not that sadistic. even if taisui is.

oh, speaking of saves, you have proficiency in Constitution and Charisma saves, as well as Arcana and Religion. you kind of are a god, after all.

2. second level sorcerers become a font of magic! rn that just means u can cast another first level spell every day, like your new one, earth tremor! most of you is still down there, after all, just twitch a lil.

3. congrats! you survived long enough to get second level spells! now you can feed your party parts of yourself to aid them, giving them a bigger hp bar for the day! you also learn metamagic this level, so now your font of magic actually does stuff that’s important! you can spend your sorcery points to make a spell heightened, giving your target disadvantage to their save, or careful, automatically making the save for some of your friends! taisui’s got kind of a yin-yang thing going on between his feeding and his cursing, so this is the best of both worlds!

4. since ur kind of a nega-jupiter, you’re now a scion of the outer planes! yaaaay! since your god’s evil, you get resistance to necrotic damage, and you get chill touch again!

you can also cast mold earth to cover yourself up again, and you can cast wither and bloom! with this spell, every creature you choose takes necrotic damage, and one creature you choose can roll a hit die and gain hp back! it’s literally everything you do in a single spell!

5. fifth level, you have magical guidance, spend sorcery points to reroll checks, whatever! the important thing is now you can bestow curses! the phb gives some suggestions, but really you can do anything your dm lets you get away with!

6. sixth level divine souls have empowered healing, so whenever you or someone next to you heals someone, you can spend a sorcery point to reroll some of those dice, once a turn! i’m not sure if that works for life transference or not, but either way this spell makes feeding yourself to someone a lot more visceral. you take damage, and then someone else gets healed for twice the amount of damage you took!

7. you can now give urself an aura of purity, making friendly creatures in it immune to disease, resistant to poison damage, and they get advantage on saves against a buncha common status effects too!

8. at eighth level you get another ASI, so now you’re a Baleful Scion. that rounds up your Charisma and lets you pull people into the Grasp of Avarice- once a turn, you can add some necrotic damage to the damage you deal, which also heals you for that amount. your best healing spell so far uses your HP, so you need to fill that back up somehow.

you can also summon a Spirit of Death for an hour, making a floaty medium boy you can ride around on! you don’t even need to spend any actions commanding it or nothin’. it can only attack one creature at a time, but it’ll lock on to them and let you know where they are the whole time!

9. you can now make an insect plague! don’t misspell that, trust me. now you can make a 20’ radius sphere of locusts that obscure the whole place, and everything inside it has to make a constitution save or get piercing damage!

10. tenth level sorcerers have another kind of metamagic like extended, doubling the length of a spell you cast, up to an hour. you can also cast resistance to protect someone from a saving throw-related dangers.

speaking of saves, you can cast the most messed-up spell in the game, Contagion! if you hit your target, they have to make a constitution save at the end of each turn, working like death saves. after three successes, the spell ends. after three failures, you can curse them with a terrible disease for seven days.

11. at eleventh level, you can cast sixth level spells like Heroes’ Feast! after casting this, you can feed yourself to up to twelve creatures, curing them of all diseases and poisons, immunity to poison and being frightened, and they had advantage on all wisdom saves! on top of that, they gain extra HP, and all for a full day! just… maybe don’t tell them what the feast’s made of.

12. twelfth level, another ASI! bump up that Con for more Cons! it’s health, you’ll get more health. this is retroactive, remember, so you get an extra 12 HP this level.

13. thirteenth level sorcerers get seventh level spells, and its time to get real curses! with Divine Word you can hit any number of creatures within 30’ of you, forcing a charisma save on all of them. depending on how many HP they have, they’ll become deafened, blinded, stunned, or even straight up dead if they fail a charisma save. this also banishes any celestial, fey, or fiend if they’re not from around here, so that would make Dagon a real cakewalk. also, on the “instantly killing people” front, this gives you more than enough room to take out some poor bastard’s whole extended family.

14. your Angelic Form is a lot different than most people would expect, but you can still use your bonus action to fly around on your curse lump, with no limit on flight time!

15. eighth level spells! you can now Regenerate your allies by forcefeeding them a whole Con, giving them a healthy amount of HP immediately, with a trailing 1 HP per turn for an hour afterwards. two minutes into the spell any missing limbs grow back, though they can also instantly be reattached by just slappin ‘em back on if you got ‘em.

16. another ASI, another Con for more HP.

17. you can now use twinned metamagic, turning a single-target spell into one that hits two creatures!

speaking of single target spells, Power Word Kill’s a hell of one, ain’t it? if the chosen target has 100 HP or less, they die instantly! no saves, no nothin’.

18. you spent so much time putting Cons into other people, we almost forgot to get some Cons into you! with Unearthly Recovery, letting you spend a bonus action to regain half your HP once a day! big heal energy.

19. one last ASI before the build finishes! with the Tough feat, it’s like you ate two Cons at once, giving you an extra 38 HP now, plus another two next level.

20. at level twenty you get the sorcerer’s capstone, Sorcerous Restoration! every short rest, you get four extra sorcery point!

…yeah there’s a reason we usually multiclass.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

you have an amazing Con-stitution for a caster, giving you way more HP than most would expect of you. having a healer that doesn’t die easy is super helpful. this also means you have great con-centration. your more powerful spells don’t need it, but dropping a spell always hurts.

not only are you a great healer, you’re great at making other people heal too! you also have access to some strong defensive buffs like heroes’ feast, aura of purity, and resistance. also, being able to grow back limbs can be pretty useful!

you also dish out devastating debuffs, destroying enemy defenses with divine words, curses, and disease.

Cons:

yep, there’s a lotta them in there.

(but seriously, a lack of direct attacks drags fights out, the sorcerer capstone sucks)

#fgo #fate grand order #D&D 5e #DND #Taisui Xingjun

[syntheticavenger]

tabloid junkie

A big thank you to @cocobutterqwueen​ for her help on this!

Ransom Drysdale x Female Blogger Reader

Word Count: 1K

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, a little world building, some guest stars from another world, socialite behavior.

Summary | After a post goes viral for Ransom Drysdale’s impromptu exit from a party, it should be no cause for concern for the secretive but popular blog that leaked the information, save for the popularity amid the anonymity of who posted the news. Until Ransom decides to take it personally and teach you a lesson once he finds out who is behind the screen.

“Ransom,” Antonia whispers, her eyes focusing on the title of the post, reaching for the sleeve of his jacket.

“Not now,” he barks back in reply, a fixed smile on his face after he’s bared his teeth at his assistant. “Whatever it is, it can wait.”

“But Ransom -”

“Deal with it,” comes his final warning. “Isn’t that what I pay you for?”

He’s gone before she has a chance to warn him, unceremoniously screenshotting the post to attach it to her scathing reply that she’s already drafting in her head. The post is racking up likes and shares right before her eyes, muttering her disgust at how quickly other publications are picking up the article.

It’s from a random blog, one that doesn’t drop major information on the regular. Almost an afterthought until it raises something from the deep or gets handed their information right from the source.

Before she even has a chance to form the post in her email, her phone rings, his manager’s name popping up, her heart skipping a beat.

“M-Mr. Ren,” Antonio gulps. “How… how are you?”

“Ransom Drysdale unceremoniously removed from The Poinsettia.”

There’s a long pause, one that she knows she should wait for but the anxiety to have an answer makes her forget her place.

“I assure you, Mr. Ren -”

“Seen with my own two eyes,” he continues, his voice louder, pointed with every word. “I’ve never seen anything so humiliating. Word on the street is that he won’t be snagging an invite to the prestigious opening of Landmark. Couldn’t. Be. Me.”

Antonia gulps, squeezing her eyes shut.

“I can explain this,” she starts.

“You have thirty seconds to tell me why a goddamn blogger knows about this and I don’t. What even is this shit? Couldn’t Be Me? That’s what’s getting the news now, Antonia?”

“I assure you, Sir, I saw it while we were doing his photo call and I promise you,” she swallows hard, tearing the phone away from her ear to see the post racking up more views, squeaking in despair. “I’ll make sure it gets taken down.”

“That’s not what I asked you. I asked why I wasn’t notified. You’re his assistant. Why weren’t you assisting him with saving face? Does he know about this?”

“Not exactly.”

“You goddamn idiot,” Ren hisses. “Fix this and fix it now. The Landmark invite is paramount. They find out and he’ll get uninvited. That means it’s your ass and mine. Fix. This.”

He hangs up without a word, Antonia nibbling on her lip, spying Ransom looking at his phone.

Within seconds, she’s aware he can see it, brows pinching together, eyes lowering and a flush coming over his cheeks. His mouth moves as he reads, his head shaking, fingers gripping his phone tight.

“Are you shitting me?!” comes his bellow of outrage, his makeup artist balking as she takes a step back from his rage. “Antonia!”

“I see it, Ransom,” she answers meekly, intentionally not showing him her phone. “I assure you, I’m handling this right now.”

“Who the fuck does she think she is? I got thrown out? It was to keep that idiot Tangerine and his brother from causing even more of a scene so that none of us were thrown out. I left!”

“I know that,” Antonia tries to soothe, knowing she isn’t going to get anywhere with the level of anger Ransom is at.

“I’m going to bury her.”

“But you don’t even know who she is. Just some random blogger who happened to get an invite to the party.”

Ransom scoffs at her reply, lifting his head for a moment, closing his eyes to center himself. The deep inhale doesn’t give her any sense of peace.

He’s concocting a plan.

“I think we should just have your publicist give a reply and be done with it. It’s a dumb blog, Ransom. We can bury it.”

“Oh, I want to do more than bury it,” Ransom answers, sliding his phone back into his pocket. “I’m going to annihilate her.”

-

1 million likes, 425K shares.

You’ve broken a record that you never even set for yourself. As gratifying as it is to see the amount of numbers that continue to climb, you’ve been deleting comments that have painted you as a harbinger of death to Ransom Drysdale’s playboy lifestyle. Some comments you’ve kept up to amuse yourself, the indignation of a keyboard warrior smashing their insults into one long comment laden post makes for good reading when you need a pick me up on a long day. The threats on the other hand, are boring and sometimes a little worrisome but your anonymity has always been your strong suit and with your various VPNs, there hasn’t been an issue of anyone finding out what you do in your spare time.

It isn’t your fault you happened to be at the right place at the right time. Two Englishmen arguing over a girl that was hanging over Ransom, drunkenly challenging him as he laughed right in their faces. A missed fist to Ransom’s face and horrible insults lobbied their way only made it worse.

So some liberties were taken with what you actually saw. What you did see was Ransom leaving without his new date, still leveling slights in their direction, flipping them off before security came to break up the argument.

Deep into your post, the sound of a commotion barely registers until you look up at the people walking toward the lobby, hushed voices getting your attention.

“Are you coming?” Denise asks, stopping at your cubicle. “I thought you’d be first in line.”

“For what?” you ask, unaware why her eyes are so wide with awe. “Did I miss something?”

“Uh yeah. Ransom Drysdale is here.”

Your heart sinks into your stomach, peering up at her.

“Here? Why?”

“Who knows. But he’s here.”

“No, I’m good. I need to head out anyway,” you lie. “Tell me all about it later?”

“Sure. Suit yourself.”

#ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale fic

[rfsak2]

Spitfire, Part 5

This is another long post. Part of me thinks they will continue to get longer as the seasons get more complicated. I’m excited though because after Season 4, Alexandria/Negan are prime Daryl.

Let me know what you think! 

Spitfire, Pt. 5

Everyone always thought Daryl was the rough one. DarylxOC

Warnings: violence, emotions, injuries, character death/characters feared dead, smut under the cut

Part 4

She perched on Daryl’s lap, settling against his chest, then crossed her legs, almost demurely, between his spread legs. She looked up, catching Glenn’s exasperated glance. 

Daryl snuck his arm around her waist, big hand falling on the outside of her thigh. 

She shrugged. “What?”

Hershel hid a smile. “This is a council meeting.”

She nodded. “There are no more chairs.”

They all turned to see the stack of chairs in one corner of the library.

She waved dismissively. “There are no more chairs over here. I’m lazy.”

She felt more than heard Daryl’s chuckle. She glanced back at him and he didn’t meet her eye. A second later he felt his finger tracing the outside seam of her jeans… then the inside seam.

She pinched the inside of his other thigh, watching out of the corner of her eye as he bit at his lip.

Maggie snickered. “Alright, then.” 

Hershel nodded. “Let's start with the back side of the prison. Walkers have been wandering in again. One got into the tombs.”

Sasha sat forward. “We can try to lure them away. Set up a boombox a half mile out. Mitzi and I can take down any too stuck to get out.”

Carol nodded. “We need something more permanent. The old torn-down walls help keep some out but they clearly aren’t secure enough.”

Daryl hummed. “Found an old excavator. If we can find diesel n’someone to drive it, we can probably clear it pretty easy. Find a way to replace the fence.”

Maggie spoke up. “I can drive it.”

Mitzi made a note on a little sheet of paper. “So: diesel and fencing. We can probably get most of that from the same construction site where the excavator is. We’ll just need to clear it. There were about twenty walkers in there last time we rode by.”

“I’ll gather some people up.” Glenn nodded to Sasha and Mitzi. “Between the two of you, we should be able to clear it pretty quickly.” 

They all agreed and the conversation moved to another topic. Daryl pointed at her notepad, his free hand drawing a nonsensical design that arched closer and closer to her inner thigh. “What’s this word?”

“‘Escavater’.” She scribbled something, hiding her pad, and showed it to him. Frisky?

He chuckled. “That’s not how it’s spelled.” He nabbed her pen and scratched it out, spelling it correctly and adding: you know what you did.

Laughing, she grabbed it back, pretending to scratch out the misspelled word. “I was in the Army, not the Air Force. What d’ya expect?” Don’t know what you’re talking about at all.

Bending over my bike like a fucking porn star.

Who me?

I’m gonna fu-

“Mitzi?”

She hummed, trying not to startle, like she had been caught doing exactly what they had been doing. She looked up. 

Hershel grinned back. “Do I need to separate you?”

“No, sir.” She shook her head, almost childishly. “Can’t spell. Daryl was helpin’ me. What was the question?”

He chuckled. “Ammo?”

“We did pretty good when we scavenged at that pop-up army tent-camp last month.” She shrugged. “As always, we need to keep our eye on it and keep a look out for more munitions but we’re pretty stocked.”

Daryl’s hand on her thigh pulled her ass tight to his crotch. She pinched him again, higher. He captured her hand and held it to his thigh, knowing that her crossed legs hid his lower half almost completely.

Glenn sat forward. “Do you think we have enough to start teaching and target practice up again?”

“Yeah, probably, but.” She considered that, trying to keep her voice level. “We need to see how bad the old training ground has gotten. D spotted a herd heading that way last month.”

Daryl nodded, rubbing his bristly chin over her exposed upper arm. “We can swing by on our next run n’see.”

“What about hand-to-hand? Can we start working on that?”

“Sure.” She shrugged, pulling her hand back from his thigh from where he had been inching it up. “Anytime. I think people are just a little nervous because of the rumors that’ve been runnin’ ‘round.”

Maggie giggled and Mitzi was briefly anxious that Maggie knew what was happening across the table. “Is it a rumor if it’s true? You did beat that guy up a couple of weeks ago.”

Daryl grunted, grumbling under his breath. “Less than he deserved.”

Mitzi made a face and folded her hands primly in front of her, partially to get them away from Daryl. “Y’all didn’t see Daryl go for his knife. I saved him from being knife throwing practice. Besides, he was fine. He just had a black eye-”

Glenn hung his head, smiling despite trying to stay serious. “And a broken wrist?”

She shook her head. “That was an accident. Scared me poppin’ up behind me like that.”

“You'll start tomorrow, then. If that’s okay?”

Mitzi saluted. 

**

She smiled as she laid her cheek against his chest, sweaty and satisfied.

Daryl wrapped a red spiral around his finger, rubbing his thumb over it gently.

Busying herself with idly drawing patterns over his chest, she lightly scratched at his nipple. She giggled when he captured her hand and lifted it to his mouth and Daryl bit lightly into the meat of her palm. 

“Gonna start teaching hand-to-hand t’morrow, yeah?”

She nodded against his chest, yawning. “Are you cool with being my Vanna White?”

He snorted. “What d’ya need help with?”

“Demonstration.” She turned more on her stomach so she could prop her chin up on his chest. “Put me in a chokehold-“

He started shaking his head and she trailed off. “What’s wrong?”

“Ain’t puttin’ my hands on ya like that, no way.”

Her head tilted in confusion. “Baby, that wouldn’t be the context.”

He grunted. “I know that, but I ain’t doin’ it.”

She nodded, pressing closer so she could lay her cheek against his. “Ok.” She pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll ask Glenn.”

He breathed deep, trying to relax the sudden rigidity in his muscles. “My father beat the shit outta me n’my mom. And I know your dad n’grandpa beat ya. I ain’t doin’ it or nothing close to it.”

She smiled against his neck. “I have never, ever thought you’d raise a hand t’me. It didn’t even cross my mind that those two things would be- or feel -the same for you. If it had, I wouldn’t ‘ve asked you, D.”

He nodded affirmatively. “I’ll be there to help ya, but I ain’t putting my hands around your neck or pretending to hurt you no how.”

They quieted and she settled back, tracing designs in his chest. “Y’know, you are the only person I ever dated, even before the military, that treats me the way y’do.”

He calmed. “How d’ya mean?”

“Like I’m glass… not fragile necessarily, but valuable.”

He nodded, running his fingers up and down her side. “How’d they treat ya?”

She shrugged. “Not always bad necessarily… just rough, I guess they were always aware that I could handle rougher treatment. Never really had anyone protect me or think twice about how they treated me. I don’t know. Didn’t date that much anyways so I guess I didn’t really think about it. But there’s always been a noticeable difference between you n’ them anyways.”

Daryl breathed deeply, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I know you can handle it… me being rougher with you, doing the shit you do- are asked t’do.”

She smiled. “You know that is literally what I would have done if this shit never happened right? If we had met before the turn.”

“True, I guess.”

She sighed. “I don’t think you would’ve wanted t’be with me, to be honest. I was gone all the time, in foreign locales I couldn’t tell you about, doing things and killing people I couldn't tell you about. I was… broken by alotta it and pretty cold by the end. As much I’d wanna fuck you, I probably wouldn’t ‘ve been very nice.”

“You were never broken. I don’t believe that.” He shook his head. “Besides… Would’ve still wanted ya.”

She stared up at him with a soft smile. “You would’ve been the only one, I didn’t even want myself most days.” She pressed a kiss to his nose. “On the bright side, with my salary and all the extras, you coulda just stayed home and been my house-husband. Do whatever you wanted to do, customize bikes, hunt, fish, learn how to surf, whatever.”

“House-husband?” He rolled his eyes, pulling her over him so she laid against him. “Wouldn’t ‘ve just let you work and sit around doin’ nothin’.” 

“No, you wouldn’t ‘ve.” She conceded. “You don’t have a lazy bone in your body. But you wouldn’t have had to do something you weren’t interested in just to earn a living and I woulda liked to be able to give you that. Woulda made it more worth it.” 

He made a face like he was considering it. “Made money, then?”

She chuckled. “Yeah, I made money. Between base pay, base-approved housing, hazard pay, the occasional special demonstration or competition, I socked away money like no one’s business.” She grinned up at him. “You woulda been a well-kept man.”

He snorted. “Some trophy husband.”

She pinched his side. “You vastly underestimate how attractive you are. I woulda had to beat off the other officer’s wives.”

He shrugged, uncomfortable, and she let the conversation go. 

He sighed after a minute. “I wouldn’t ‘ve liked it then, anymore than I like it now. Money or no.”

“Gotta do somethin’.” She shrugged. “This just happens to be what I’m good at.”

He nodded. “I know you’re trained to do these things, that you’re good at ‘em, that you are tough as nails, but I don’t want you to hafta, to hafta be. Like that’s all you’re good for.”

“I don’t.” She thumbed at his bottom lip. “If it was all I was good for, who’d keep you in clean clothes?”

He groaned. “I can do it, I just forget.”

“I know, baby.” She leaned up to kiss him. “I don’t mind doin’ the laundry. If I did, there’d be nothin’ you could do t‘make me.”

She settled back against his chest and was dozing off when he spoke. “Love ya.”

She smiled. “Love ya too.”

**

“Alright. Let’s get started.” Mitzi smiled, hands on her hips. “For most of you, this is gonna just be basic self-defense, how to keep a walker off of you long enough to pull a knife, how to break a headlock or a chokehold, that kinda stuff.”

Glenn grinned from where he stood in the small crowd that had gathered around her and raised his hand. “So you’re not going to be teaching me to kill someone with a spoon?”

She laughed. “Not t’day. That’s a special lesson.”

Zach raised his hand. “So you can, though?”

“Can what?”

“Kill someone with a spoon?” Zach grinned at Glenn

She shrugged. “You can kill someone with anythin’ if y’try hard enough.”

Zach watched her with a comically suspicious face. “Exactly what I’d expect a… internationally renowned martial artist to say.”

Mitzi frowned, head tilting in confusion. “What?”

“That's what you did before the turn. You were a martial artist.”

She snorted and glanced back at Daryl. “Y’know, Glenn knows what I did before the turn.”

“I told him not to tell me. I want to guess.”

“A’ight.” Mitzi shrugged. “You do you.”

“Back on topic.” Glenn nodded. “I want to start by learning to kill someone with a spoon.”

“She said later.” Daryl groused from where he sat on the low wall to the newly erected cooking pavilion. “Can’t be wastin’ spoons neither.”

“Killjoy.” Glenn discretely flicked off Daryl. 

Daryl rushed Glenn, grabbing him around the neck and rubbing at his scalp with his knuckles. “What you call me, punk?”

Mitzi giggled and walked over to them. “A’ight. This isn’t likely to be the way a walker would grab you but it’s as good a place as any to start.” 

“Mitzi, make him let me go.” Glenn whined. The small group laughed. 

“Not yet, Glenn. We’re learning. Also, play shit games, win shit prizes.” She ruffled his hair, before turning back to the group. “How d’ya think you’d get out?”

Her students offered a couple solutions, like clawing at his arm or head-butting.

Mitzi nodded. “Good answers but wrong answers. Daryl has Glenn’s head down already so head-butting is not an option. Also, don’t go head-butting walkers, not advisable. Scratching or clawing takes too long to be effective. They can just knock you out.”

She moved to stand on Glenn's side. “Your best bet is to prevent the headlock in the first place. We'll talk about what t’do if you can’t next.”

She tapped Daryl’s arm and he let Glenn go. Turning to Glenn, she smiled. “Did you do any taekwondo as a kid?”

He nodded, watching her warily as Daryl moved back.

“Okay, try to get me in the same headlock.”

Glenn sucked in a deep breath and sunk into a fight stance that was solid but not practiced. He lurched forward and hooked his arm over Mitzi’s neck. 

Before he could hook his other hand around his wrist, she stepped into him, locking her hips and caging him in with her arms. She locked her hands around his free arm and pulled him back over the leg she had braced up against the back of his leg.

Glenn fell back with a soft oof, Mitzi keeping hold of his abdomen to prevent him from hitting the concrete. He got his legs back under him and moved away.

Mitzi patted him on the shoulder. “Our instinct in this situation is to move away, but our attacker is generally in a better position to take advantage of any space we make. Instead, move in, lock your hips and keep their other arm away, hook your hand around the back of their arm, push at their shoulder with your other hand, hell- just wrap your arms around their upper arms and hug ‘em hard. Anything you can do to keep your head up and their other arm outta the way, do it.

“Once you accomplish that, there’s a couple ways to throw them or knock them off balance so you can get away. We won’t practice those on concrete though.” She looked out over the field. “Probably do that another day over there by the farm. Gotta talk t’Rick ‘ bout that.”

She motioned Glenn forward. “Let’s try again.”

Glenn was faster this time but Mitzi snuck her hand under her chin and grabbed the inside of his wrist. She pushed his arm out and pulled her head from the loop of his arms. She set her free hand on his shoulder and pushed him away lightly.

“This time, I got my hand in there quick, preventing him from getting a tight lock on my neck. From there just push away and run. You’re behind them, so it should be easier to get away, if you think and act fast.”

Mitzi smiled and turned to Daryl. “Now, Glenn is technically taller than me.”

“Technically?” Glenn gasped comically. “I’m like half a foot taller than you!”

She laughed. “Glenn is taller than me and fast, but D is even taller and bigger.” She glanced at Glenn, who was indignant. “Objectively, that is true.”

Glenn shrugged dismissively.

“Daryl is taller and his arms are long. So while Glenn’s speed works in his favor, Daryl doesn’t need to be fast. He can get his hands or arms around me without me being able to reach him.” She turned to Daryl. “Baby?”

Daryl made a face, and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Ain’t sure ‘bout this.”

She smiled. “You don’t have to hurt me, D. Just put your hands on my shoulders.” 

Daryl sighed and set his hands on her shoulders. Mitzi held her arms up and her fingers just brushed against his chest. 

“See?” She flapped her hands ineffectually. “In this case, I need to be close.” She stepped in, Daryl adjusting to keep his hands on her shoulders. “If someone taller than you attempts a front chokehold, especially with the intent of choking you, they are gonna lock their elbows so they can press down.” 

She brought up her forearms in between his arms in an ‘x’ shape. “You wanna break that elbow lock. So, forearms up in an x and then.” She brought her forearms out more gently than she would in an actual fight. Daryl stepped back, soft smile on his face. “Out and down, to push his arms away.”

**

“Baby.” She smiled and crooked her finger at him. “You doin’ anythin’ right now?”

He sauntered closer to her, eyes trailing over the curves and swells she was displaying for him. “Like what?”

“Like anythin’ that would prevent me from pulling you in here and havin’ my way with you.” She set her hip against the door frame, holding the door open with her foot and watching him with heated eyes.

He smirked, almost instinctively pulling his shoulders back, letting her look her fill. “Don't know anythin’ that could prevent that.” He leaned over her, pulling the door closed behind him as he used his body to move her further back into the guard tower.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss, hot and open-mouthed. Pulling away, she smiled against his mouth. “That’s a good answer.”

He hiked up her shirt enough to get his hands on the skin of her side, squeezing gently at the softness he found there. “S’the truth.”

She slipped her tongue into his mouth and pressed tight against him. “Y’look good today, baby.”

He chuckled into her mouth. “I look the same as I always do.”

“True.” She slipped one hand down into the open neck of his button-up. “You look good everyday.” The same hand dropped down and teased at his length through his jeans. She kissed him again, moaning into his mouth. “So good.”

He groaned into her mouth. “Want’ya naked by the time you’re up those stairs.”

“Uh-huh.” She lifted her hands to his face and took control of the kiss as one of his hands dropped to her ass. She pulled away and pressed him back towards the door. “I’m in charge here, bud. You followin’ my rules today.”

He scoffed, using his grip on her ass to pull her tight into his body. “You gonna hafta make me.”

“Oh, I think that can be arranged.” She started to unbutton his shirt, before latching on to his neck.

He groaned and cupped her breast with his free hand, his other still preoccupied with squeezing her ass. Almost bending her backward, he nibbled at her collarbone through her shirt collar.

“Pretty, little thing.”

She giggled. “Your pretty, little thing.”

He caught her eyes and grinned, all teeth. The hand on her tit dropped to her ass and he grunted as he lifted her and turned to press her against the door. Worrying his teeth over her jaw, he nodded. “That’s right.”

She moaned and arched into him. Humming, he leaned in to kiss her again. Feeling her smile against his mouth, he groaned when she pushed back against him and took control of the kiss.

She bit at his lips. “And you’re my pretty boy, yeah?”

His brain froze, a sudden hot pulse shooting up his spine. She grinned, nibbling at his chin, and held his eyes. His jaw dropped and he grunted, rutting his hips against hers. “Shit!”

He leaned in to kiss her and she tutted, pulling back ever so slightly. 

She bit his chin. “Are you?”

He found himself nodding before his brain could process the shift in mood. Pressing his dick up against her, he groaned loud and long.

She pulled back, head tilted cheekily. “So what I want is you naked by the time you reach the bed.”

He tongued at his lip, smirk still firm on his face. “Told ya, you’re gonna hafta make me.” 

Hands in his hair, she tilted his head back and ran her tongue over his Adam’s Apple. She moaned against him. “Dontcha wanna fuck me, baby?” She pouted down at him.

He nodded and she tilted his head to the side, biting into where his neck met his shoulder. He groaned. “Fuck, do I, woman.”

She grinned. “Then why don’t ya take your clothes off and get your ass upstairs?”

He leaned into her, pecking at her lips softly. “Why don’t you?”

She huffed, frustration building to match his. 

“No pouting.” He tugged at her lip with his thumb. “How ‘bout a compromise? Botha us.”

She nodded and he set her on her feet, pecking her nose. “Race ya.”

She won but only because he purposely let her in front of him, pinching at her ass and reaching around to knead at her breasts and rut against her ass as she tossed her t-shirt over the railing to the ground below. 

He pulled her into a kiss as they cleared the stairs into the guard shack proper. She turned him, pushing him toward the mattress Glenn had brought up here some months ago. He fell back onto the bed, grunting, and pulled her down into his lap.

She set her hands on his shoulders and pushed him gently. He didn’t budge, leaning in to suck her nipple into his mouth. She gasped, arching into him despite her best attempt to maintain control. “Fuck, D.”

He nipped at her nipple gently and pulled her tighter into him, grinding his crotch up against hers. She sucked in a breath as she carded her fingers through his hair, arching into him. He directed her hips to roll against him, moaning into her breast as she found the rhythm he liked. 

“Pretty baby.” He thrusted his hips against her roughly.

She threw her head back and sighed, hips rolling against hers as he moved to suck a hickey into the skin above her nipple.

“So little, so pretty sitting on m’cock like that.”

She set her jaw and forced herself to look down at him. He grinned, biting at the skin of her other breast.

She threaded her fingers through the hair at the back of his head and pulled his head back. Leaning over him, she pressed her forehead against his and stared into his eyes as she ground down on him.

As he groaned, she moved to lick his earlobe into her mouth, tugging gently. He hissed, meeting her grinding thrust for grinding thrust. 

She moaned, whispering hotly in his ear. “So handsome, baby. Take such good care of me.”

His hips jumped and he grunted loud in her ear. He crossed his arms over her back and grasped at her shoulders, using the leverage to pull her harder down onto him. 

“Put me in ya.”

She smirked against his jaw. “Maybe I ain’t ready yet.”

“Wetter than fuck, baby.” He grunted and moved a hand down to shove two fingers into her roughly. She moaned and he smiled through a tight jaw. “You ready.”

She nodded as if it was a question and he removed his fingers, lining the head of his cock with her core. He caught her eyes and held them as he entered her in a single rough thrust. 

Once seated deep in her, he tapped his fingertips against her bottom lip and she smiled, taking fingers still wet with her into her mouth. He grunted, eyes locked onto her mouth as he thrust up into her.

As he watched, distracted, she shoved his shoulders back gently. He fell back against the mattress, hands falling to maintain control of the movement of her hips. He pushed and pulled, guiding her in a rolling motion.

“C’mon, girl.” He smirked up at her. “You supposed t’be in charge and y’have me doin’ all the work.”

She took his hands from her hips and tangled her fingers with his. Moaning, she planted his elbows in the mattress and leveraged herself against him. 

After a moment, she leaned forward to pin his hands by his ears, changing the angle and rubbing her clit furtively against his pubic bone. 

Moaning, she shot him a lopsided smile and leaned forward to favor him with a wet kiss.

His hips jerked up against hers, hitting something in her that whited out her vision. She gasped. “Fuck, Fuck.”

He grinned cockily and pulled one of his hands free, digging his hand into her hair. “Yeah, baby? Already?”

He used the hand still tangled with hers to pull her forward against him. He secured her wrist in the small of her back and thrust up into her. 

He panted in her ear, massaging at the back of her head. “Fit me like a fuckin’ glove don’t’ya, Spitfire?” He pulled her tighter to him and he ground his hips up into her, putting exquisite pressure on her clit. “C’mon, baby.”

She gasped and felt her body pull in tight, cunt clenching hard around him as she all but screamed into his neck.

Grinning, he turned them, setting her calves up on his shoulder and nearly folding her in half so he could press his face to hers, forehead tight to her temple. He groaned as he pressed himself into her again.

“Fuck ya like you’re mine.” He hissed, his own high fast approaching. “Cause y’are, right? You’re mine.”

She nodded, one hand digging into the meat of his ass the other clawing at his back.

“Say it.”

She sucked in a breath and choked out: “Fuck yes! All yours.”

He made an unholy sound deep in his chest and leaned back, her thighs still tight to his chest, snapping his hips hard against her.

One hand keeping her legs balanced on his shoulder, he reached down and captured a heaving nipple between his thumb and pointer finger. Grinning down at her, he pinched lightly and tugged. 

“Gonna cum again, little girl?”

She hissed, head falling back and neck arching against another sudden wave of tightness and wetness. “Fuck, I might.”

He shook his head and switched one leg to his other shoulder. Sucking his thumb into his mouth, he thrummed at her clit with his thumb. “Nah, y’are.”

He leaned over her as she nodded, pressing her legs back against her chest. He kissed her open, gasping mouth. “Gimme another, pretty baby.”

She moaned, lifting her hands to his face to keep his mouth against hers. his free hand lifted to cup and squeeze at her breast. 

“Fuck, Daryl. Baby.” She clawed at his thigh and arched hard.

He nodded, sealing his mouth to hers. “Gimme it.” 

She seized up quick, mouth dropping open silently and core clenching at him hard enough to take him with her. He groaned her name, hips spluttering against hers.

He kept himself propped up on his hands and focused on breathing through the heat still in his veins.

Grunting quietly, he pulled out with a groan, kissing her calf before softly letting them fall to the bed. He leaned over to kiss her again, caging her between his biceps. 

He smiled softly at her as she hooked her hand around his bicep. He kissed her again. “Pretty baby.”

She smiled back. “Pretty boy.”

He rolled his eyes and laid his head against her chest. She pressed a kiss to his forehead, scratching lightly at his scalp.

There was a pounding at the trapdoor and they both jumped, Daryl pushing himself up and in front of her.

“Are you done?” Glenn’s voice was thick with irritation. 

The door lifted just the barest amount, Maggie pushing their abandoned clothes across the floor at them, her eyes considerably more amused than her husband’s.

Daryl sighed, relaxing almost immediately. He kicked at the door. “We ain’t.”

The door fell shut and Mitzi started laughing, head thrown back against the mattress. Through the open windows, they heard the door to the tower open and close. 

**

Mitzi smiled and leaned over the grill, chatting with Carol as she picked at a piece of fruit. 

“You can always come and help me?” Carol smiled with an edge of gentle teasing. “Learn how to cook.”

Mitzi shivered for dramatic effect. “Tried once. Gave myself food poisoning.”

Carol giggled, smiling at Daryl as he came up behind Mitzi and pressed a kiss to her hair. “Hey, Daryl.” She turned back to Mitzi. “What were you cooking?”

“Grilled cheese.”

Carol laughed outright and Mitzi’s smile brightened. “You gave yourself food poisoning with grilled cheese?”

She looked over and snickered when Daryl started chuckling. “Didn’t store any of it right according to the doctor.” She shrugged. “Even after my aunt took me in, I was never home to be taught any of this stuff. Either off doing shit I shouldn’t or practicing, competing when she got me into shooting.”

Carol nodded, eyes soft on her. Daryl leaned into her and Mitzi waved them off. “It’s good. I ain’t worried about it.”

“Mrs. Dixon?”

She jumped, turning over her shoulder and catching Daryl’s eyes.

He shrugged. “Ain’t talking to me.”

She blinked before turning to the man. “Excuse me?”

The man, a Woodbury resident named Alex, looked nervous, glancing at Daryl. “I’m sorry… I thought you were married…?”

She glanced at Daryl, who was watching her with a small smug smile. He arched an eyebrow, almost challenging her. 

She grinned. “We are.” 

A hush fell over the eating pavilion.

“O-okay…”

“But if you’re gonna be formal, I insist on using my rank as well. That’s Captain Dixon to you.” She shot Daryl a shit-eating grin. “Just if we’re bein’ formal.”

Carol, who had until that moment been hiding a smile behind her hand, outright guffawed.

“Now what was the question?”

Alex looked panicked. “What? O-oh… uh. You mentioned taking people out to learn to shoot? I wanted to sign up.”

“Consider yourself on the list. I’m sorry, remind me of your name?”

“Alex.” He smiled brightly. “When’s the next lesson?”

“Alex.” She parroted back. “It’s tomorrow.”

“Thank you. ma’am.” He stuck his hand out and almost gleefully, she shook it.

“Welcome.”

He nodded, smiled and scurried off as she chuckled, watching him leave. “So fuckin’ proper. You think he knows he just officiated our wedding?”

Carol snorted.

Daryl bit at his lip, watching her with no small amount of pride and fondness. “You m’pretty, little wife now?”

She sidled up to him, standing nose-to-nose or as close as she could get with the height difference. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Prolly shoulda gone on our honeymoon, with as long as we been married.”

“Damn, you’re right. I should’ve booked those flights to Fiji.” 

His shoulder shook with his laughter. “Prolly oughta learn to cook.”

“We both know you’re better at that. Besides, I do the laundry.” She pressed a quick kiss to his mouth. 

“Guess that’s fair.” He leaned in for a deeper kiss.

Carol clapped. “I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

Mitzi grinned and pressed her face into his chest. “Wish we had cake. That’s the only part of weddings that’s any good.”

Daryl chuckled and Carol shook her head, adding, “that is the most Mitzi statement I have ever heard.” 

She shrugged. “Anyways, gotta go help clear that fence.”

“A’ight.” He patted her ass and nabbed the rest of the fruit she had been holding onto absently. “Be safe.”

She stepped back with a brilliant smile. “I married a fruit thief. That’s disappointing.”

“What’s yours is mine, wife.”

“Fair.” She grinned and waved over her shoulder as she made for the fence. “Love ya!”

Daryl grunted. “Say it to m’fuckin’ face.” He smiled and watched, biting into her Apple quietly, as she stopped short and turned on her heel.

She stepped even closer this time. Daryl straightened to his full height with a cocky smile. She pressed against him, rising up on her toes.

“Love you.”

He nodded and knocked her forehead with his. “Love ya.” He gestured towards the fence with his head. “Best go. ‘Fore Maggie comes lookin’ for ya.” 

“I ain’t afraid of her.”

“Yeah, ya are. Now git.” 

She turned and he slapped her ass, causing her to laugh and jump forward a step. 

“I would like to remind you that there are children present.”

Daryl shrugged. “They’ll be alright.”

**

She folded a couple of the cleaner cots up and put them by the humvee closest to the grocery store door. Sasha placed some of the meager supplies, mostly basic first aid supplies or some trampled and flattened MREs, Tyreese following behind, holding his own handful of finds.

Mitzi nodded at Daryl, tapping soundlessly at the humvee. “Next time we’re here, I’ll bring some tools and maybe we can harvest some parts for the bus.”

“Not a lot leftover.” Daryl observed. “Musta been picked through.”

She set her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Remember when I said that the army wouldn’t take in civilians, just set ‘em up with the bare minimum?” She grinned at him and gestured grandly at the haul, meager though it was. “I told you so.”

“Y’always tell me so.” He leaned backwards to rap on the big plate glass window at the front of the store with his elbow. He glanced at Zach and Michonne. “Just give it a second.”

She grinned and sauntered over to him. “It’s my wife rights. I’m always right.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes.

Mitzi brushed her fingers over his thigh. “Gotta cut your hair when I get a chance. At least, the front. You’re not gonna be able to see here pretty soon.”

He nodded, ghosting his fingers over the back of her knee absently, eyes watching the hole in the chainlink.

“Okay, I think I got it.” Zach moved to sit on the ledge next to Daryl. 

Michonne wandered closer. “Got what?”

Zach turned to her with a smile. “I’ve been trying to guess what Daryl did before the turn.”

“He’s been tryin’ to guess for like six weeks.” Daryl groused.

“Yeah, I’m pacing myself. One shot a day.” He pointed at Mitzi. “I’m getting close to figuring her out too.”

“You don’t have to figure her out.” Michonne made a face. “Everyone knows what Mitzi did.”

Zach huffed. “I wanna figure it out though.”

Mitzi shrugged when Michonne looked at her, leaning up against Daryl’s side. “I told him the same thing, ‘Chonne.”

Daryl huffed lightly, before gesturing to Zach. “Alright, shoot.”

“Well, the way you are at the prison…you being on the council, you’re able to track, you’re helping people.” Zach smiled, seeming to hesitate. “But you’re still being… kind of surly.”

Daryl scoffed and glanced up at Mitzi, who was biting back a smile. “Don’t you start.”

Mitzi shook her head, holding her hands up. Daryl turned back to Zach.

“Big swing here, homicide cop.”

Michonne started laughing and Mitzi bit at her lip. 

Daryl, unable to keep the small smile from his face, turned to Michonne. “What’s so funny?”

Michonne shook her head. “Nothing. It makes perfect sense.”

“Actually,” Daryl glanced up at Mitzi. “The man’s right. Undercover.”

Zach brightened, excited. “Come on. Really?”

Daryl nodded. “Yep. I mean I don't really like to talk about it ‘cause it was a lot of heavy shit, you know?”

“Dude, come on, really?”

Daryl shot him a look, clearing his throat, and Zach deflated. 

“Okay, I’ll keep guessing, I guess.”

“Yeah, you keep doin’ that .”

A bare second later, a walker slammed his hands on the glass and Daryl stood, reaching for the bolt-cutters from Tyreese. 

Michonne smiled at Mitzi as she followed Daryl and Zach to the door. “We’re gonna do this, detective?”

Daryl nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Mitzi shouldered her rifle, moving around Daryl to cover the door as they opened it. “Ooh… arrest me, Detective Dixon.”

He turned toward before cutting the chain, blushing. “Stop.”

Mitzi winked at him. “I have been known to say ‘fuck the police’ but I think I would’ve meant it different with you, D.”

He shook his head with a small smile. “Tighten up. Let’s go to work.”

**

“Hey, Mr. G.” Mitzi rapped on the wall before parting the curtain. “I’m doin’ a bullet count.” She stuck her head in and cussed. 

The walker in the cell stood and lunged at her. She stepped back and pulled her knife. The walker advanced and she felt the railing behind her. 

Shoving the body of Mr. Gordon, an elderly, former resident of Woodbury, she stabbed him in the temple as the walker lunged forward again. 

The body slumped against her and she sighed, pushing him off of her. “Fuck, man.” She turned him over as respectfully as she could, inspecting the body. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone approach her. “Guess he died in his sleep. Maybe slipped. His face is all bloody.”

There was a snarl and she looked up in time to crab-walk out of the walker’s reach. She stood, pulling the little snub-nose she had taken to carrying in the prison. She fired once and breathed deep when the second walker’s body fell.

“Everyone needs to wake up now!” She hollered, rapping her gun against the railing to wake up the residents of the block. “Wake up and get your doors closed! If you’re already up, get back in your cells! Close the doors!” She looked down over the railing and fired at another resident of the cell block when he looked up at her, eyes clouded over and dead. “Everyone up now!”

A walker wandered out of a cell two down from her. She fired. The walker fell.

Two shots fired off to her left and she ducked instinctively. Looking over she saw Alex firing wildly at a walker. “C’mon, Alex. Take a deep breath and aim.” 

Alex nodded, eyes still on the approaching walker, and aimed. The walker slumped. Alex looked up at her.

“Good. Be careful, the others are going to be coming in here soon and hot. Start trying to clear down there.”

True to prediction, Daryl, followed by Rick, Glenn and Sasha, rushed in. 

She heard Daryl’s bow. “Mitzi!”

“I’m up here. I’m okay!” She moved to the far end of the block, toeing the cell doors closed as she went. “Help Alex.”

When she got to the last cell, she held up her pistol and used her hunting knife in her left hand to part the curtains. She sighed deep and fired.

**

“They wanted to go out together, same as they lived. That make them douchebags?”

Daryl’s eyes skipped down to her where she was stockpiling tools. “It does if they coulda gotten out.”

She smiled at Bob and reached out to squeeze his shoulder. “Daryl doesn’t consider suicide to be an option.”

“Nope.” Daryl shook his head, still inspecting the area around them with a flashlight. 

Bob nodded his head. “But you do?”

“Not anymore…” Mitzi shrugged. “I have in the past.”

“You don’t gotta talk ‘bout it.” Daryl walked behind her, pressing a quick kiss to her head and grabbed a bottle of distilled water, glaring over at Bob.

“Why-” Bob cleared his throat, shying away from Daryl’s very direct stare. “Why was it an option?”

“It’s alright, D.” She smiled at Daryl before turning to consider Bob. “It wasn’t an option, not really, but I was hurting and couldn’t see past that pain.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was that pain?”

“Why you askin’?” Daryl sucked his tongue. “Her pain don’t make your point any more right.”

She stepped to his side and dropped a kiss to his shoulder. “I’m okay, baby.”

He grunted, rifling through a display to her other side. “Shouldn’t be drummin’ up your pain. It ain’t entertainment.”.

“I’m sorry… maybe I shouldn’t ask.”

She shrugged against Daryl’s side. “It’s good… I’m not ashamed of it anymore. I was nearing 400 kills. People treated it like an accomplishment.”

“Kills?” Bob frowned. “The way you hold your gun, I always assumed you were military.”

She caught sight of something on a nearby shelf and leaned down to nab a ratchet set from a shelf. “Yeah, I was a Ranger. A sniper.” She showed it triumphantly to Daryl and set it next to her small cache of tools. 

“It makes sense why I had the strangest sense of deja vu when I met you.” Bob smiled. “I remember reading an article about you. Captain Mildred E. Donovan. You’re famous, the first female spec ops soldier in the US military.”

She winced. “Yeah, that’s me.”

His eyes softened. “So people treated you like a celebrity-“

“When I felt like a criminal.” She bobbed her head. “378 kills was the official number but that didn’t count people who had died as a direct result of my military service.” She shrugged. “So I tried to eat my gun… kill number 379.”

Bob nodded, eyes on Daryl who kept shooting him dirty looks. “What stopped you?”

She smiled softly. “My little brother. He asked his first girlfriend to a dance at school, wanted to tell me all about it. He had good timing.”

Bob patted her shoulder. “Glad you’re still here.”

She chuckled. “Me too.”

“C’mon.” Daryl rounded a corner and flashlight on a walker trapped under ceiling debris. 

Mitzi shot Bob a wry smile and followed after Daryl with her collection. 

Stopping to consider the walker and the photos of the family pins to a cork board on the wall, Bob sighed. He knelt to deal with the walker and looked up in time to watch Daryl and Mitzi. 

Daryl had paused in the doorway in front of Mitzi, causing her to stop to avoid running into his back. He turned head-butted her gently, knocking his forehead against hers, eyes locked on hers. She smiled up at Daryl, nodding, and Bob felt a sudden ache in his chest.

**

She came to with a gasp that filled her mouth with dust. Lurching forward, she coughed and retched, clearing her throat of what felt like sandpaper with giant heaving coughs that felt like she was getting kicked in the side. “Fuck.”

She shuffled out from under the guard tower stairs and looked up, seeing smoldering metal and sky. She saw her rifle off to the side and reached for it. 

“Fuckin’ shit!” She grabbed at her right shoulder with her left hand, noticing the odd angle the joint sat at. 

Sighing, she leaned back and forced her shoulder to rotate back into the joint. It popped audibly and she groaned. 

She grabbed her rifle with her left hand, holding the barrel between her knees to check the chamber. Finding a singular round, she moved to the makeshift armory she maintained in the guard tower. 

She grunted, kicking debris out from in front of the cabinet. Opening it, she pulled out a gun bag and loaded it one handed. She stuffed a magazine of .50 caliber bullets into the back pocket of her jeans and inserted another magazine into her rifle, flicking the switch to turn the rifle over to automatic. 

Shouldering the bag, she took a deep breath and lifted her rifle with her gun arm. She groaned past the pain, anchored the rifle against her shoulder and moved to the door, listening through the metal. Judging by the groaning on the other side, there were likely more than a few walkers outside the door.

Mind racing, she set her back against the door. She looked up the stairs and huffed, shrugging. 

“Might as well.”

She climbed the stairs, stepping around twisted metal and concrete. When she reached the top, she pushed what remained of the trap door and boosted herself up onto the platform. 

She looked around, surveying the destruction, the tank up in the main courtyard, the assembled dead, and tried to find a way down from the platform. She was calculating a jump from the platform to a more clear patch of lawn when she saw Daryl’s bike in its usual spot. 

She froze, grief and shock suddenly catching up to her. 

She looked down at the walkers collected around the tower. One seemed to catch her eyes and snarled up at her, raising hands caked in blood and mud.

What little fight had been keeping her upright seeped right out her feet. She was acutely aware of the pain in her side, her head, her shoulder, aware of how heavy and sluggish her body felt. 

There was a strong likelihood that she wouldn’t survive this jump, anyways. Would it be so bad to just end it here? 

She moved to set down her rifle when Daryl’s voice came to her unbidden, ringing in her head. 

It ain’t an option.

She sucked in a deep breath, stepped back as far as she could and jumped.

**

“Why’d ya do that? I was havin’ fun.”

“No, you were being a jackass.” Beth pressed into his space. “If anyone found my dad or,” she paused, looking at him, “or Mitzi-”

“Don’t.” Daryl shook his head. “That ain’t remotely the same.”

“Killing them isn’t supposed to be fun.”

“What d’ya want from me, girl, huh?” Daryl snarled.

She didn’t back down, words still slurred but becoming clearer. “I want you to stop acting like you don’t give a crap about anything. Like nothing we went through matters. Like none of the people we lost meant anything to you.” Her body threw her forward like she was vomiting the words. “It’s bullshit!”

Daryl gaped at her, chest hard and tight and made more so by her words. “That what you think?”

“That’s what I know. You haven’t said a single one of their names since we got out.” Beth wiped at her face. 

Daryl pressed forward, growling through the tightness in his chest. “You don’t know nuthin’.”

“I know you look at me and you just see another dead girl. I’m not Michonne, I’m not Carol, I’m not Maggie.” She sucked in a breath. “I’m not Mitzi.”

“Don’t.” He shook his head, feeling tears prick at his eyes. “Don’t say her name again.”

“Mitzi. Mitzi Dixon.” Beth set her jaw. “I know it hurts, Daryl. I’ve survived, and she didn’t, and you don’t get it ‘cause I’m not like you or them. But I made it and you don’t get to treat me like crap just because you’re afraid.”

“I ain’t afraid of nuthin’.” He rasped.

Beth drew back, tears welling in her eyes. “I remember, when that little girl came out of the barn, after my mom. You coulda been like me. But you had Mitzi, then.” She gasped. “And now, God forbid you ever let anyone get too close.”

“Too close, huh? You know all about that. Lost two boyfriends and you can’t even shed a tear. Your whole family’s gone, all you can do is just go out lookin’ for hooch like some dumb college bitch.” He gestured vaguely at her, throwing his free hand in the air.

“Screw you. You may not be looking for a drink, but you’re avoiding Mitzi all the same.”

He let out a noise full of pain and anger. “Don’t say her name again. You don’t get it. Everyone we know is dead.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Might as well be, ‘cause you ain’t never gonna see ‘em again.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “Rick. You ain't never gonna see Maggie again.”

She shoved at his hand. “Daryl, stop!”

“No!” He turned away, feeling the bluster that had kept him going drain from him. “Governor rolled right up to our gates. Fuckin’ blew-” He sucked in a breath. “Fuckin’ blew my w-wife to pieces.” He swallowed past the sob building in his chest. “Maybe if I wouldn’t ‘ve stopped lookin’...” His voice cracked and he trailed off. “Maybe ‘cause I gave up. That’s on me.”

Beth stepped closer to him, grabbed at his arm. “Daryl.”

“No.” He shook her off. “And your dad… Maybe I coulda done somethin’.”

Beth near tackled him in a hug, squeezing him tight as he almost bent in half under the weight of his grief.

**

Mitzi had just raised her rifle when Daryl approached the group holding Rick and Michonne at gunpoint. She fought against the relief that was trying to convince her body to relax, keeping her eye trained down the scope.

“The thing about nowadays is we got nothing but time. Say your piece, Daryl.”

Daryl nodded, speaking directly to the leader. “These people, you’re gonna let ‘em go. They’re good people.”

The Steven Tyler wannabe looked shocked. “Now, I think Lou would disagree with you on that. I’ll, of course, have to speak for him and all because your friend here strangled him in a bathroom.”

Daryl nodded, voice still low and conciliatory. “You want blood, I get it.” He set down his weapons. “Take it from me, man. C’mon.”

“This man killed our friend. You say he’s good people. Now that right there is a lie.”

Daryl deflated as two of the gray haired man’s goons advanced on him. “It’s a lie!”

One man punched Daryl in the gut with the butt of his rifle. 

Mitzi lifted her rifle and fired. One of the two going after Daryl dropped. The others froze, clearly trying to place the direction of the suppressed shot. She cleared the treeline in the crouched walk the Army trained her in, her fucked-up knee protesting.

The leader seemed confused. He grinned, a chill chasing her spine. “That’s a mighty big weapon for such a small lady.”

She ignored him, catching Rick’s eyes and keeping her rifle trained on the one aiming at Michonne.

The man grinned. “Claimed.”

“The bitch or the gun?” 

“Both.”

She shot him, Rick lunging at the leader, and turned toward the man still standing over Daryl. “You have two seconds to back the fuck off my husband before I get irate.”

The man’s knees gave out and he crab-walked back, begging and stuttering. “Please… I’m sorry, I was just doin’ what I was told. Please, don-“

“Shut up.” The man’s body slumped heavily.

Looking up, she caught sight of a man, still almost absently holding on to Carl. She raised her gun and watched Michonne level her sword.

Michonne clenched her jaw. “Let him go now.”

“He’s mine.” Rick brushed past her and Mitzi dropped her rifle.

Daryl almost tackled her, wrapping her up in a crushing hug. Wincing, she turned with a bright smile on her face, setting her rifle on the hood of the car. She blinked, maybe a bit too rapidly, and framed his face in her hands “Hey, baby.”

Daryl squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them, running a gentle thumb over her bruised jaw. “‘Hey, baby?’” He mimicked her, forcing a chuckle out of a tight throat. “Like y’weren’t just dead.”

“Not dead.” She pressed a kiss to his mouth. “Just briefly missing.”

He pressed a hard kiss to her forehead. “How? I saw the guard tower. It was fuckin’ blown to pieces.”

She nodded, pushing his hair back and smoothing her thumb over his split lip. “When I saw the tank, I dove for the stairs. But the explosion knocked my feet out from under me and I just tumbled down the stairs. I’m probably only alive because it got me to the bottom of the stairs so quickly that I was able to shimmy under the stairs before the debris and ash started falling.” She kissed him gently. “I musta passed out and when I came to, the prison was overrun.”

He kissed her hard, one hand coming up to cup the back of her head. “You’re fuckin’ black n’blue.”

“I’m alright, though.” She winced, pulling away slightly. “I have a helluva goose egg, I fucked up my knee and I’m pretty sure I have a couple of broken ribs, but all in all, I’m good.”

He frowned, tilting her head down slightly to palpitate at the back of her head. “Y’have a coupla goose eggs.”

She laughed. “One for each flight of stairs.”

He grunted, obviously not amused. He lifted her shirt and winced at the dark bruise he found. As gently as he could, he pressed at some of the darker areas of the bruise. “Yeah…” he tsked. “‘Least two’a these are broken. Hafta find something to wrap them.”

She nodded, smiling fondly down at him. “I also dislocated my shoulder… fixed that already though.”

He snorted and pulled at the neck of her Pantera shirt. He shook his head, seeing the dark bruising on her gun shoulder. “Jesus, Spitfire. You shouldn’t a’shot your rifle.”

She scoffed. “I’ll take that under advisement for next time someone’s beating up on my family.”

He grunted, pressing his mouth to her temple and gently wrapping her in a hug. “There betta not be a ‘next time’.”

She felt arms around her and smiled back at Carl. He pushed his face into her neck, clutching at Daryl’s shirt around her. 

Daryl tutted and tried to loosen Carl’s grip on her injured side. “She’s all banged up, kid. Gotta loosen up.”

He did but kept his face in her shoulder much to Daryl’s consternation.

She turned, smiling at Daryl when he grumbled, and pulled the boy into as gentle a hug as she could manage. 

His breath stuttered, clearly still shaken from his encounter with the Claimer. 

“Y’okay, hun.” She rubbed her hand over his head. “You grow like a weed, dude. I swear you’re taller than when I saw you last. You may be taller than me now.”

Carl chuckled wetly. “I’ve been taller than you for a while, Mitz.”

“Lies.”

Daryl stepped into her and pressed his face into her neck from behind. “‘Least a coupla months, baby.”

Michonne came over and gently added herself to the hug. She smiled softly. “You have good timing.”

Mitzi nodded. “And you leave a trail that is shockingly easy to follow.”

Rick staggered over to them, face red with blood  and leaned heavily against Daryl.

“I do not leave an obvious trail.”

Mitzi snorted. “You do. Not many people runnin’ ‘round Georgia with a fuckin’ katana, ‘Chonne.”

**

The place immediately unsettled her and she could tell by the tension in everyone, even Carl, that they all felt it too. Rick shifted next to her and she tried to quietly, covertly lay her finger over the trigger guard of her rifle. 

The man kept talking, reaching out to Michonne with a plate of food. Mitzi stepped closer to Daryl’s side, who caught her eye and nodded. 

At that moment, Rick slapped the plate out of the man’s hand and pulled a gun. 

Mitzi lifted her rifle and trained it on the man. There was a shadow on the ground so she turned, aiming up at a sniper kneeling in the corner of the roof opposite them. She saw Daryl and Carl raise and aim their guns as Michonne stepped back into stance. 

“Where the hell did you get this watch?”

Mitzi used her free hand to pull Carl behind her by his shirt as he came up even to her. Carl kept his pistol up over her shoulder. He opened her mouth to speak and Mitzi shook her head, eye on the sniper through the scope.

The man held his hands up. “You want answers? You want anything else? You get it when you put down the gun.”

“I see your man on the roof with a sniper rifle. How good’s his aim?” Rick scoffed. “You see the redhead right there? She’s the best shot I’ve ever seen. She could probably take you all out without much help from us. I’m gonna ask you again. Where’d you get the watch?” There was tense silence and Rick repeated himself louder. “Where’d you get the watch?”

The man Rick had hollered at his compatriots, a tad more panicked than he probably intended. “Don’t do anything! I have this! You just put it down. You put it down!” He quieted, speaking only to Rick. “You want to listen to me. There’s a lot of us.”

The sniper lowered his weapon and Mitzi shifted to watch the other rooftops.

Rick rasped. “Where did you get the watch?”

“I got it off of a dead one. I didn’t think he’d need it.”

“What about the riot gear, the poncho?”

“Got the riot gear off a dead cop.” Another man, the man who had patted them down earlier, approached. Mitzi saw Michonne turn towards him out of the corner of her eye. “Found the poncho on a clothesline.”

“Gareth, we can wait.”

“Shut up, Alex.”

Rick’s voice was gruff and intense. “You talk to me.”

The man’s voice was smug. “What’s there to say? You don’t trust us anymore.”

“Gareth.”

“Shut. Up. Rick, what do you want?”

Rick grunted. “Where are our people?”

“You didn’t answer the question.” 

Gunfire broke out and a sniper poked his head out on another roof. She shot him down before she felt Daryl push her after Rick. They made to run back the way they came but another sniper shot at the concrete in front of them. Before she could aim up and take him out, Rick started pushing her back the other way, following Daryl across the courtyard. 

She turned, bullets firing into the ground at her feet and took out two more snipers with two quick shots.

Rick's hand fell on her shoulders and they made to run through a garage, people closing off the sliding metal door in front of them. Daryl pushed her through a door labeled ‘A’ after Carl. Finding themselves in another courtyard space, they sprinted across open ground, more gunshots ricocheting off the ground around them.

“Get them off B” someone shouted from a roof and Rick stopped to return fire.

As they rounded the corner, the smell of rot hit her in the face. To their side, was a large fenced area with obviously human bones spread out on a blue tarp. Carl turned to look and Mitzi reached forward to push him in front of her. Daryl slowed his stride as the sound of people pounding on metal and screaming for help became clear.

Rick pushed him forward and they exploded into a room that spat of cult, with lit candles and painted designs on the floor.

“What the hell is this place?” Daryl reached out to Mitzi, who caught his hand and squeezed.

“These people,” Michonne fought to catch her breath. “I don’t think they’re trying to kill us.”

“No.” Rick concurred. “They were aiming at our feet.”

He led them out the only available door, only to encounter more gunfire and a fence lined with people with rifles. Daryl, in front of her, pulled up short, caging her behind him. 

“Drop your weapons now!” 

They all looked to Rick, whose eyes were trained on the rooftop where Gareth’s voice had come from. 

“Now!”

Mitzi sucked on her tongue, bending at the waist to lay her rifle out. She pulled her pistol and knife from their holsters and passed them to Daryl, who added them to his pile of arms. 

“Ringleader. Go to your left. Train car, go.”

Rick hesitated, looking back at Carl. “You do what we say, the boy goes with you. Anything else, he dies and you end up in there anyway.

Rick nodded and strode toward the train car.

“Now the archer.”

Daryl caught her eyes and Mitzi nodded, Daryl following after Rick. 

“Now the samurai.” 

Michonne visually checked with Carl as she passed him.

When Michonne stood behind Daryl, Gareth spoke again. “Now the sniper.”

Mitzi scoffed, but began moving after Michonne. “You might wanna check your boys. I didn’t hit any of those assholes with a headshot.” She turned and caught his eye, smiling. “On purpose.”

Gareth clenched his jaw and ignored her. “Stand at the door: ringleader, archer, samurai, sniper. In that order.”

There was a long pause.

“My son.” Rick shouted from the train car.

“Go, kid.” Carl made his way towards them and Gareth shouted another order. “Ringleader, open the door and go in.”

“I’ll go in with him.”

Gareth sounded frustrated. “Don’t make us kill him now.”

Rick climbed the stairs and opened the door with a heavy clank. One by one they filed in. Rick pulled Carl in and checked on him as the door slid shut behind him. 

**

“What do you think, Mitzi?”

She squatted in front of the doors and sighed. “They’ll use flashbangs or smoke bombs, riot suppression shit-”

“If they have them.” Daryl inspected the hinges.

She nodded. “If they have them. Try to overwhelm us, get us to give in without a fight.”

“What can we do?” Glenn had his arms crossed over his chest and she smiled up at him. 

“Who do you take me for, little brother?” She reached over and squeezed his side. “I’ll be damned if I go down without a fight.”

“Did you say your name was Mitzi?” The big ginger strode towards her. “Mitzi Donovan?”

She nodded, standing. “Yeah, that’s right?”

Everyone seemed transfixed by the spectacle. Daryl reached forward to grip her hip.

“Captain Mildred E. Donovan?”

She frowned, almost correcting the use of her government name out of habit.

“Her last name’s Dixon.” Daryl’s voice rumbled out from his chest, vibrating over her scalp from where her head was pressed to his chest.

The man had a slightly disconcerting grin on his face. 

She straightened her stance, broadening to take this asshole down if he had lost his mind. “My maiden name was Donovan. Why? Who the fuck are you?”

“You’re a fucking legend.” The man looked almost gleeful and she stepped back instinctively into Daryl. “300+ confirmed kills. US Army kill shot record holder. Fuck, but it is a pleasure to meet you.”

He stuck his hand out and she stared back. “What?”

“You’re Captain Mildred E. Donovan - Dixon, sorry. You’re an Army Ranger, right? One of the most deadly Army snipers in history.”

Bob shook his head. “Not the time, Abe.”

“Yeah. Nice to meet you?” She grasped his hand. When that seemed to placate him, she turned and nodded to Rick. “We need weapons.”

“I can assist with the procurement of hand fashioned weapons.” The big dark-haired man in the back nodded. “Everyone still has their belts?”

Part 6

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction

[jupitercomet]

Toots taking care of Bradley after a fight like making him breakfast in the morning wearing his shirt barely covering her ass it’s quite she looks at him lovingly while he eats giving his cuts and bruises kisses between bites she kisses a particularly sore spot on his face he lets out a breathy ow and then she pouts sticking her lower lip out he chuckles softly and kisses her pout he suddenly pulls her chair closer to him and she squeaks surprised and he starts making out with her breakfast and pain forgotten

wow I made my self horny anyway I love them your honor

literally shoot me in the foot, it would hurt less... anyway, enjoy!

warnings: language, mentions of violence, mentions of injury, mention of pain killers, not smut but foreplay??, Bradley's 6'6" because I said so

The morning Bradley finally conceded that Natasha was right to say he’d gone completely and utterly soft for you is when he woke up to find a Build-A-Bear monkey snuggled between his arms and chest. Obviously he would never tell Natasha that she was right, but the almost hesitant way he props the stuffed monkey up against his pillow as he gets out of bed is a level of ridiculous he genuinely can’t believe he’s entertaining. 

What isn’t in bed, Bradley realizes as he closes his bedroom door, is you. It doesn’t worry Bradley �� you’re very loud, he can already hear you prancing around the kitchen — but to soothe the embarrassment of waking up with a stuffed animal, he would prefer his monkey.

Almost as if imagining you climbing all over him, his body protests it with a dull throb. The ache travels up his sides to his temples, a reminder of the night before and how much he’s paying for it now. Bradley won — but it had been close. Close enough that he had Adler patch him up before he came back home to you. Neither of them particularly wanted you to see him like that.

The sound of a sizzling pan and upbeat music leaves his soreness momentarily forgotten as Bradley’s greeted to the sight of you in one of his t-shirts, dancing around the kitchen. The light from the window is lighting you up in a soft glow, warm and comforting. Bradley crosses his arms, leaning against the wall as he watches you for a moment. In an effort not to frighten you, he clears his throat.

“Bear!” You whirl around, eyes lighting up when you see him. “You’re awake! How are you feeling? I thought you needed rest so I let you sleep in, but I left you Monkey so you wouldn’t be lonely.”

Bradley glances at you flatly, before heading towards the Tylenol and water you left out for him. “I noticed.”

“Are you hungry?” You’ve turned back to the stove when Bradley finishes swallowing the two pills.

He’s unsure how long you’ve been awake, since you seem to have made pancakes, waffles, toast, and eggs. But his stomach doesn’t seem to mind and he doesn’t say anything as you lead him to the couch and sit him down.

“Stay here,” you instruct, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I’ll be right back with a plate.”

For the second time, Bradley couldn’t help but think that Natasha would be laughing her ass off if she were to see him. Because when you came back with a plate piled with food, sat on his lap, and started feeding him, Bradley let you. He let you ramble about your thoughts and the season finale of a show that you didn’t really like. Every so often, you would trail off and Bradley would look down at you questioningly to find you already looking at him with a soft smile. Then you would kiss him and go back to whatever you were saying.

“I just thought it was a stupid way to end—” You cut yourself off with a grin, before gently wiping syrup from the corner of Bradley’s injured mouth. “Who’s the messy eater now?”

Bradley grabs your wrist before you can move it away, popping your thumb in his mouth and letting his tongue swirl around the pad to clean off the maple syrup. He pulls the digit from his lips. “You’re the one feeding me, toots.”

You can only open and close your mouth a few times, your face on fire, before you hide in his shoulder with a groan of embarrassment.

“What?” You can’t see him, but you know he’s smirking slightly.

“Stop,” you whine, softly punching his shoulder. “I’m supposed to be taking care of you, bear.”

Pulling away from his shoulder, you try to glare at him. It hardly has its desired effect though, Bradley’s large hands sneaking under your shirt causing you to shiver. His hands trail up your sides, taking the hem of your shirt with them as more of your skin gets revealed to him.

“And you’re doin’ real good taking care of me. But my mouth’s kinda hurting though.”

Your brows furrow. “It is? Why?”

“Dunno.” Bradley stops when your shirt is high enough that he can see your bare breasts. “Helps when I suck on stuff.”

“Okay... Should I get you some ice or— Oh!” You suck in a gasp when Bradley’s lips envelop your nipple, tongue tracing the hardening nub.

He pulls away slightly to wet his thumb and forefinger, before returning to the nipple and rolling the other one between his fingers. You close your eyes at the feeling, letting out breathy moans that only spur Bradley on as he plays with your tits.

“That was good, toots,” he pulls away after a moment, hovering over you with shiny lips.

You blink a few times, realizing he’d somehow managed to flip you onto your back against the couch cushions. Your shirt is at your clavicle and Bradley takes a moment to admire your wet breasts as they reflect the soft morning light with every heaved breath. His hungry gaze darts down to the wet cotton outlining your folds. Bradley's tongue darts out to his lips, his body aches now the furthest thing from his mind.

“But I think I’m gonna need something that keeps my mouth real occupied.”

#bradley bradshaw blurb #bradley bradshaw x toots #monsters in the dark #under the hard deck #buggy's got a pen

[kyberblade]

Shatter - Gone Rogue (Din x Reader)

A/N: They’re back! These weirdos that I love poked my brain until I couldn’t ignore them. I really hope you love it. We have Fennec and Boba making a guest appearance, too! This is Part 3 in the Shatter-verse. The reader has a name in this fic, but that’s the only descriptor of her. Past that, nothing else, I don’t think. I still use “you” mostly, the name is only used a handful of times. This was meant to be a multi chapter fic, but it’s just not wanting to translate that way, so it’s going to be a series of one shots and a whiff of continuity. Please feel free to send me scenarios, prompts, requests for these crazy kids! Just remember to stick to the rules.

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Snark, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, Din is a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Light swear words. Space swearing. Mando’a. Like a lot of it. (Translations at the end of each sentence as I go.) My Mandalorians do what they want. Banter. So much banter. And you’ll probably fall in love with them like I did. (I don’t make the rules.)

Word count: 11,934

Thanks to @grippingbeskar​ for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

Also a shout out to @what-the-heckin-heck​, @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis, @lloweryourstandardss​, and @fordo-kixed-rex for reading it over for me as I went and telling me I wasn’t crazy. (And @deceiver-of-gods​ for helping me with the Mando’a - You’re a life saver.) (Any mistakes are my own.)

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Xxx

You twisted the wrench as you tightened the bolt under the Crest, the ship’s shadow blocking you from the scalding heat of Tatooine’s twin suns. 

“There. I think that’s it, Peli. Wanna test it out before I move?”

“Sure!” She called, jogging up the ramp and into the cockpit. Her voice came over the comm in your pocket a few seconds later, “You ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” you muttered, wiping sweat from your brow. “Wait!” The engines that had started to power up came to an abrupt halt.

“What?” Peli asked urgently.

“Do I need to have Mando hand me my helmet or something? As protection? In case, I don’t know, something pops off and flies straight for my-”

Her loud guffaw rang throughout the hangar from your comm as you glared at it, unimpressed. “You’ll be fine,” she wheezed, trying to catch her breath as she muttered your words back under her breath in a fit of giggles. “Starting the engines now.”

The ship roared above you, vibrating just slightly to show its displeasure at being finely tuned. Oh well. It was better than the clunking. 

“All looks fine up here,” came her voice over the comm as the engines powered down. “You can close her up and come out. Good job.”

Smiling, you mumbled a thanks, starting to scooch out of the tight space when her voice crackled through again, making you pause.

“Hey, wait. When did you finish this interior?”

You squinted as the suns moved just enough to be in your eyes. “Um, in the last few days, I think. You mean on the lower level?”

“Yeah….” Her voice sounded distant, amazed, moving away from the comm like she was turning around.

“Within the last few days. Mando finished it up while I did the wiring with you in the cockpit.” You dragged your gloved hand down your face, bringing it up to block out the suns. “Looks good, doesn’t it?”

“Looks very good,” she agreed. “Almost makes me wish I could go somewhere in this ship. Almost.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Din said dryly, standing by your head.

Pulling your hand down quickly, you glared up at him, reaching out to whack his leg. “Kriff! You scared me! Don’t do that!”

Peli’s laughter barked over the comm once again, soon coming around the corner to join Din’s in real time as she stood beside you. “Need some help? I can get R5 to tow you out a few feet if you need-”

You glared at her, making her snicker. “No, I’m good, thanks. I can manage.” Wiggling back a few inches, you let out a huff before holding a hand out toward Din. “Help your bodyguard out?”

“If anyone attacked right now, I’d be-”

“Don’t say it,” you grumbled.

“I mean, you’re just laying down on the job,” he continued, grabbing your shoulders and pulling you the rest of the way out before offering you a hand to help you up. 

“You’re-”

Once you were on your feet again, Din pulled you close, speaking in a low and teasing voice, “It’s a wonder no one’s snuck in here yet.”

“I was about to say the same thing,” a familiar female voice rang out behind him, making you both turn with blasters drawn. “Hello, Mando.”

“Fennec,” he said on a sigh, lowering his weapon.

“Again?!” Peli lamented. “There is a door, you know.”

“And a lovely door it is,” a familiar man’s voice drawled. A tall bald man in beskar walked up casually, one hand resting on his belt, the other cradling a matching Mandalorian helmet against his side. He tipped his head in respect towards Din. “Hello, old friend.”

You moved to stand in front of him, the man and the woman chuckling. 

“You can tell your attack dog to stand down anytime now,” the woman said in a droll tone, making her way down from the rafter she sat on.

The man laughed softly. “Attack dog? No, no, this is his shadow!” He gestured to you with his free hand. “Everyone knows the shadow of a Mandalorian is the most dangerous part, because if you’ve lingered long enough to see it, odds are you’re probably within striking distance.”

You smirked. “I don’t mind you.” Turning your blaster on the woman, you gestured to her with the weapon. “You, I’m not so crazy about, but I have a feeling that’ll change.”

Din put his hand on your shoulder, sliding it down your arm to make you lower your blaster. “Ti, this is Fennec Shand and Boba Fett.”

Disengaging your blaster, you holstered it. “The ones who gave us the piece of shi- I mean ship.”

Boba laughed loudly while Fennec rolled her eyes with a small grin. “That would be me,” he chuckled. “She was in horrible shape when I found her, but look at her now!” He gestured to the ship behind you. “Got you here in one piece and she’s sparkling.”

“Because I flew her here,” you grumbled, smiling when Boba laughed again. You liked him. He brought a joy into a room. Walking up, you offered your hand, which he took and gave a firm shake. “Ti Jyrr. Head of strategy and tactics, and temporary head of security. Also currently a bodyguard to the Mand’alor and the child until we can get back home.”

Boba’s eyes lit up. “Speaking of, where is the foundling?”

“Asleep on the ship,” Din stepped up beside you. “He’s her shadow, follows her everywhere. Tired him out early today after she convinced him to chase Peli’s droids around the hangar for a few hours.”

Peli let out a surprised huff of laughter. “That was you? That was the cutest thing I have ever seen. Plus, getting R5 to finally wind down and connect to a charging dock for once - ah! Blissful silence - you’re a magician!”

“I think it was just trying to get away from Grogu,” you smirked, shrugging. “But hey, it all worked out.” Turning back to the newcomers, you jerked your head back toward the ship. “Would you like a tour? I need to wake the kid up, anyway, or he’ll wake up right when I go to sleep and start jumping on my bed or something.”

“That would be lovely,” Boba smiled before his features adopted something a little more serious. He set his helmet on a nearby table before he brought his hands together to rest in front of him. “Then, after that, if we could have a….” He looked at Fennec before turning back to you and Din. “Discussion of sorts? A business proposition is more like it.”

Sharing a look with Din, you nodded once to him. “I can watch the kid so the three of you-”

“Oh no, this would involve you, too.” Boba’s voice made you stop short.

“I can watch the womp rat,” Peli chimed in softly, her hand raised as if you didn’t know who was speaking. “I owe ya one after you got R5 on the dock earlier.”

You shared one more look with Din before he turned to Boba and Fennec. “Sounds like a plan. Now come on. I want to show you what we did with the hyperdrive.”

Xxx

Grogu squawked across the hangar in Peli’s arms as she fed him, the sound bouncing off every surface and echoing into the cool night air.

You and Din sat across from Boba and Fennec at a small table off to the side, parts for all sorts of craft shoved out of the way so you could see one another.

“I have a proposition for you,” Boba began on a sigh, leaning forward on the table to brace on his forearms. “Someone has stolen from me. Wormed his way into my inner circle and as soon as he had an opening, made off with a small fortune in credits.”

He leaned back in his chair, lounging almost. “Now, you know the credits aren’t a problem for me, I don’t care about that.” He leaned forward again, his eyes determined as his finger jammed into the table to emphasize his words. “It’s the principle of the thing.”

“What do you want us to do about it?” Din adjusted in his seat to recline slightly, one hand resting on the table.

“We have enough people to keep the ports and ways out of town under surveillance,” Fennec took over. “He’s not going anywhere. But by keeping everything under watch, we don’t have the manpower to actually look for him.”

“And you think just the two of us is enough?” Both of them looked at you in amusement.

“Two Mandalorians is more than enough.” Boba chuckled. “He’s not a genius by any means.”

“He was smart enough to get past you.”

Din kicked your foot under the table with his own, making you roll your eyes.

Boba looked on in amusement. “That he was,” he agreed with a nod. “Probably because I don’t have someone like you keeping watch for me. Then again, we did sneak up on you today, did we not?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked across the hangar absently, not willing to dignify that with an answer.

“These things happen,” he continued, his voice softer. “I just want to make an example so it doesn’t happen again.”

“We wanted to give you first go at it before we put out a puck.” Your eyes finally landed on Fennec as she explained, a smirk growing on her face. “Figured you’d want some fun before you had to get off planet. And like Boba said, credits aren’t a problem, so your finders fee should help keep your life on the run well funded.”

“What are friends for,” Boba drawled teasingly, his focus across the table on Din.

“I’m assuming you want him alive,” he finally said after a long moment, sitting up straight in his chair.

“Preferably,” Boba nodded, the corners of his lips turning up slightly. “But should something…. happen, I’m not going to deduct anything from the final total.”

“Can you send us copies of city maps we can add to our navs in our helmets?” All three heads turned to you. “It’ll be much easier if we’re not getting lost in the maze of back alleys and market stalls.”

Boba looked at Fennec before he turned back to you with an amused look and nodded.

“I’m also assuming you don’t want any damage done to the city? Or at least, as little as possible?” You turned to Din. “I have some blasters with decent stun features I picked up at the market the other day when I made a food run. Might be best to avoid the most civilian casualties and property damage, then if we get close enough to him and get a clear shot, should we need to, we can switch it over.”

“You went blaster shopping on a food run?” Din asked after a moment of silence.

You shrugged. “I’m a Mandalorian. Weapons are part of my religion.”

“This is the way,” Boba teased.

Din groaned, making you smile. Leaning forward to offer Boba his hand across the table, they shook on it. “We have a deal. We’ll start first thing in the morning.”

After getting the man’s details, talking over the prices, and getting the necessary maps, you all said goodbye.

“It was an honor to meet you,” you said as you stood beside Din near the doorway on their way out.

“The honor is all mine,” Boba said, his head inclined as he looked down at you. “I’m excited to see you work, Ti.”

“If it all goes to plan, you won’t notice a thing.”

He chuckled at that, looking to Din and bowing his head respectfully. “Mand’alor.” Then they disappeared into the night.

Turning to Din, he turned to face you before you both began walking back into the hangar. “Why don’t you go grab Grogu, let Peli get to sleep, and I’ll meet you on the ship. Show you what all I bought.”

He nodded, his steps speeding up as he headed toward the little alcove where R5’s bleeps and Grogu’s squeaks were heard echoing softly.

You went up the ramp of the Crest, going to the weapons cabinet where you had stored your recent purchases and pulled a few out.

Din padded up the ramp quietly a few minutes later, a sleeping Grogu in his arms, making you smile as he passed by. “He passed out almost as soon as she handed him off,” Din said on an amused huff.

Setting Grogu in his small hammock before he closed the door to the bunk area, he turned back to you and sighed, rubbing the top of his helmet absently. 

“What’s wrong?” You set the blasters down and turned to fully face him.

“She can’t watch him tomorrow. Has some job she agreed to before we got here.” He leaned on the wall next to the bunk door. “I used to take him with me on bounties, but….”

“That was when you were on the run because of the bounty on him. Now we’re on the run basically because of a bounty on you.” 

Din lifted his head, his visor meeting your understanding gaze, nodding gently before he looked away again.

“Hey, the bounty is basically on both of us.” You took a step closer, craning your neck back, tilting your head just slightly to try and catch his eyes. “You don’t get to take all the blame, Djarin. Whatever is going on, it’s a problem for all Mandalorians, and we aren’t the kind to just hide under a rock.” Looking over his shoulder, you studied the wall behind him. “Well, except for coverts, but we aren’t talking about that.”

He snorted out a laugh, making you return your eyes to his visor and grin up at him. “He doesn’t care. He loves spending the day with you. Just bring him with.” Your hand came to rest on his upper arm.

“I don’t want to put him in any more danger. If anything happened to him because of me, I-”

“Then I’ll take him with me.” He finally met your gaze again. “I’ll keep him safe. Do you trust me?”

After a moment Din nodded. “You know I do.”

“Then it’s settled.” You squeezed his arm before letting your hand fall back to your side. “I’ll take him in the cradle. I’ll keep him safe. Nothing will happen to him.”

Lifting his head all the way back up, Din looked behind you. Gesturing with a jut of his chin, he asked quietly, “What’s under the tarp?”

Turning to face the nearby crate draped in the dull fabric, you made your way over to it. “They didn’t know what they had. It’s all pieced out and needs a good clean, Peli might even have some parts you could replace these with if they’re too far gone, but…. I thought you might want it after all the stories you’ve told me while we’ve been working on the ship.”

“Stories?” Din looked down at the crate as you pulled the cloth away, showing old rusty pieces that put together would be an Amban rifle. 

“You mentioned you lost it with the ship, and since you have the ship again….”

Din traced the parts with one gloved hand, his fingers barely touching the storied metal pieces. 

“Since we’re fighting for our home, our values, our everything, it only seemed right that you do it with this. Thought it might help restore your faith a little bit.” You winked.

“Thank you,” he spoke softly, his hand coming to rest on your upper arm like yours had on his. “I…. This is…. Thank you.”

“Now, don’t stay up all night putting it together,” you warned. “You need sleep. And it’ll be here later.”

He looked at you with a tilt of his head that said, you’re crazy.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” You smirked. “I’ll help.”

Xxx

As the suns began to peek over the lip of the hangar the next morning, Din stood just inside the Crest admiring the completed Amban rifle.

He held it in his hands, tilting it back and forth to see it from all angles, his head tilting fondly the longer he stared. 

Letting out a massive yawn from where you sat on a nearby crate, you smirked at him. “Why don’t you just ask it to marry you already? That’d be faster than whatever this is.” You made a small circular gesture to him with your hand, arching your brow when he lifted his visor to look at you for the first time in hours.

Before he could say anything, the bunk door slid open to your right, Grogu already bright eyed and chittering happily after a good night's rest.

“Jate vaar'tur, ad’ika,” you said softly, yawning again as you reached for the tiny green creature ambling over to you as fast as his little legs would carry him. “Did you sleep well?” Reaching down, you scooped him into your lap, chuckling when he screeched joyfully. (“Good morning, little one.”)

The kid reached out and grabbed the mudhorn pendant you wore, his eyes going wide as it caught the light just right, before he promptly began gnawing on it.

“Kid,” Din groaned. “Hey. Stop that. Grogu.” He began to walk over, reaching out to tug the metal out of his son’s mouth. “That’s not what that’s for, kid.”

Making a sound of displeasure, Grogu looked between both of you before trying to take his new toy back from between Din’s fingers, letting out an annoyed huff and glaring up at his father when it was pulled further away from him.

“It’s too sharp, ad’ika. You could get hurt.” Grogu looked up at you with the biggest eyes you’d seen yet, blinking slowly as if to plead with you to give in. “I know. How about we get you some food instead?” A laugh painted the last few words as Grogu’s face changed instantly and he began trying to scale your front to get face to face with you, slipping down your chest plate with a screech.

It quickly melted into another yawn, Grogu following suit a few seconds later, and Din a few moments after that. 

Shaking your head, you got to your feet. “I’ll get him something to eat, and grab a cup or seven of caf. Want some?” Din nodded, turning back to admiring his rifle again, making you roll your eyes as you began down the ramp. “I’ll be right back. Give you two a moment alone.”

Din mumbled his thanks, not looking up from the weapon as you glanced over your shoulder, smirking.

Headed for the kitchen, you mumbled almost conspiratorially to Grogu, “Your dad is something else, kid.”

Xxx

As your little clan of three stepped through the door of the hangar, Peli’s voice sending you on your way ringing off of every hard surface behind you, both you and Din shared a look before turning to the kid where he sat in his floating cradle.

“You got that set to stun?” Motioning to Din’s new Amban rifle that sat on his back, attached to a leather strap slung across his chest, you tightened your gloves.

He nodded once in confirmation, his head slowly turning to survey the nearby area.

“What about everything else?”

His visor turned to lock with yours. “All but one. I’m not leaving myself defenseless.”

You let out a snort of laughter. “I think if anyone had to use a word to describe you, ‘defenseless’ wouldn’t be on the list, even if you didn’t have a single weapon.”

“Then remind me the purpose of your job, then, if I don’t need protecting?” You tilted your head at him in annoyance. “I like to be prepared,” he amended, pulling your hand toward his and fixing the clasp on your glove you had been fiddling with. “What did you do to this? It’s like it’s been through a trash compactor.”

You couldn’t help but snort once again. “Not far off. R5 rolled over it a grand total of three times before I could get him to stop moving- hey!” You cried in protest as he yanked the buckle from the fabric with a precise tug, tucking it into the pouch on his belt and tying a simple but effective knot in its place.

“I’ll fix it before we leave. But right now, you need to focus, and you can’t if you have a buckle- if it can even still be called that- flopping around while you're trying to aim.” Cinching the knot tight, he let your hand fall back to your side. “There. Ready to go, ner cabur?” (“My protector.”)

You shook your head at his antics. “Elek, olaror, ner verd'ika.” (“Yes, come, my little soldier.”)

Din scoffed at your teasing tone, following a few paces behind as you both ventured into the market, the kid following alongside you in his cradle. “Mir'sheb.” (“Smartass.”)

“The smartest,” you quipped playfully, looking at the kid with an affectionate tilt of your head as he grinned broadly back up at you.

“Sheb'urcyin,” Din grumbled, making you bark out a laugh. (“Butt-kisser.”)

Looking at him over your shoulder as you continued forward, you spoke over a laugh, your words bouncing with the effort. “Now what about me has ever made you think that?”

“You’re right. Your pure shereshoy blinded me for a minute and I had to look away. I only saw what the sarcasm allowed.” (“Lust for life and much more.”)

You turned to face him, walking backwards, your voice the most sarcastic he had heard it in days. “Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?” (“Are you looking for a smack in the face, mate?”)

Din smiled under his helmet, glad to finally be back to the banter the two of you had slipped into since first going on the run days ago. The closer it got to leaving Tatooine, the more business minded and mission oriented you had been, focused on making everything run smoothly for all three of them, and it seemed to come at the cost of some of your lighter moods. Seeing the teasing tilt of your helmet now, the almost literal spring in your step, hearing the lilt in your voice…. The world was spinning the right way again. “Now, now, don’t be stupid, that would be a jare move.” (“Kamikaze - someone taking a fatal, foolish risk.”)

Barking out another laugh, you turned to walk forward again, Din shaking his head fondly once your back was turned. “I’ll show you a jare move,” you grumbled.

Grogu began to coo happily as he looked between the two of you, giggling softly as he looked up at you with a broad grin, his eyes squinting in the bright sunlight.

Looking down at him, you huffed out a laugh. “You think that’s funny, ad’ika? You think I’m funny when I threaten your dad?” He giggled again. “That’s kinda copikla, kid.” (“Cute.”)

“Be careful who you jurkadir, burc'ya.” (“Threaten/Mess with.”) (“Friend.”)

You turned to face him, your hands held behind your back in feigned innocence as you leaned toward him to tease, “That works both ways, burc'ya.”

“Sha'kajir?” Din held up his hands in surrender. (“Truce?”)

You thought for a moment before bowing your head in agreement. “Sha'kajir. Oya!” (“Let’s hunt!”)

“Should we split up?” Din stepped up beside you, surveying the sea of market stalls sprawling in front of you.

“Not yet. Let’s move as a unit for now, let everyone see us together. Then, later I’ll take the market while you take the alleys, and if we happen upon him- or anyone else who wants to cause us trouble- they’ll assume the other is nearby and they’ll be distracted looking for someone who isn’t there.”

Nodding, Din followed behind you as you started into the crowd, people watching your little party with weary glances, but they didn’t keep their distance like people on other planets tended to do.

It only took a few minutes before you stopped and turned to Din, your voice low. “I see him. He’s in the cantina.”

Looking to his left, Din saw the man sitting at the bar, surrounded by a group of locals, all guffawing as he told some story. “Too many other people. We’ll tail him.” Reaching up to touch the side of his helmet, he overlaid the map of the alleys behind the building. “I’ll go around the back and wait, make sure he doesn’t get spooked and try to run.”

“What are they even laughing at?” You muttered, staring blatantly into the dingy watering hole. “He’s probably not even that funny.”

“Why do you say that?”

You looked up at him. “Have you seen his face?” Turning back to the bar, you shifted your weight to one side. “He just doesn’t have it.”

Din let out a snort. “They’re probably just doing whatever gets them another drink. Looks like he’s waving his new found wealth around without much worry.”

“Di'kut,” you grumbled, moving to lean your back against the front of the building with a soft groan. (“Idiot.”)

“Kaysh mirsh solus,” Din agreed with a chuckle, stepping into the shade next to you. (“He's an idiot.” (Lit. “His brain cell is lonely.”))

“Go ahead and wait by the back door. I’ll stay here with the kid.”

“And what’s going to keep you out of trouble? You’re not known for being the best at waiting.”

You turned your face to him slowly, ignoring his satisfied shift of weight, the teasing tilt of his helmet as he waited for your response. “Myself,” you grit out, leaning your head back to look down your nose at him.

Turning your attention back across the street, you saw a little nest of scurriers tucked under one of the booths. Tilting your hand until the suns caught the armor on the back of it just right, light reflecting off the raw beskar triangle and bouncing onto the sand near the nest. The creatures lifted their heads, cautiously investigating the light as it danced with every slight movement of your hand, running in circles as you made it go this way and that.

The kid watched with rapt attention, clapping and squealing with delight as the scurriers stumbled over one another in an effort to catch the light.

Turning your visor up to Din proudly, you paused when he tilted his head down to peer what felt like straight into your soul.

“What? Oh, come on! It’s harmless!”

“Ner ver'gebuir, anade.” Din gestured to you with a flourish, bowing at his waist in a mock introduction to no one as he spoke in a low tone. (“My bodyguard, everyone.”)

You pulled your hand back into the shadow of the building to shove him to the side, the scurriers following the light as it streaked across the market, making a cart pulled by a droid slam to a stop to avoid hitting the creatures. All was well until a landspeeder crashed into the back of that cart, then a speeder bike into the back of that.

Smoke curled into the marketplace, causing patrons to begin to vacate, the passengers of the vehicles involved all hopping out and beginning to yell at one another as the scurriers returned to their nest safe and forgotten.

People in all the nearby establishments began to pour into the streets to see what the commotion was, the lane filling with bodies faster than you could process what was happening.

“Kriff,” you mumbled, taking in the scene before adding a hissed, “Osik!” Turning you surveyed the bar, finding no sign of the quarry. (“Shit!”) 

“Dank farrik!” Din grumbled, taking a few steps out onto the street and pressing the side of his helmet as he scanned the crowd.

“What are you looking for? Heat signatures will be useless right now. It’s Tatooine, so it’s hot, plus everyone and their bantha is on the street right now-”

“K'uur!” Din snapped, making you pull up abruptly from where you stood, standing at attention. (“Hush!”)

“Me'ven?” You deadpanned, staring right at him. (“Huh?”)

He sighed, still surveying the street. “I need to concentrate. Please. Just five seconds of silence.”

Pushing a button on your vambrace, you closed the cradle to protect the child, but a repetitive knocking from inside made you roll your eyes and pop it back open. Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked at the kid, one hip jutting out to the side as you gave him the look. 

“Really?” You signed to him in Tusken, shifting your weight to the other side when he giggled in response.

“I think he took the alleys,” Din finally said, turning to face you, and finding the kid giggling as you signed away to him. “Ti,” he grabbed your attention, ignoring the attitude he felt when you tilted your head at him questioningly. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” you signed, standing up straight again.

“That’s not nothing, that’s-”

“Uur,” you whispered sarcastically in explanation, leaning toward him as you did. (“Silence.”)

Din huffed in annoyance. “I had his chain code programmed to an old puck Fennec brought me. I rerouted it and sent the signal to my display so I can track him without tipping off the mark, or anyone seeing the fob and getting in the way.”

You stared at him. It was all you could do. Arms still across your chest, you shifted your weight under his gaze. “Is there a way I can get my hands on that, too?” Your voice was small, and you hated it.

He reached out, tapping the side of your helmet twice, and your display filtered through settings before landing on a blinking red dot moving rapidly back behind the buildings to your right. 

“I did it last night when you fell asleep while we were putting the rifle together. You left your helmet on a crate next to you. Only took a second, in and out, no problems.”

“I didn’t-”

“You drool.”

Again, all you could do was stare wordlessly, hoping your brain would catch up with something in time to snap back with. And it did. “You snore louder than a kriffing bantha fart.”

Din just held your gaze, neither one of you moving an inch as the child babbled mindlessly, watching the chaos ensue throughout the streets. “Sounds like we’re both a party, then.”

“Bal'ban,” you mused quietly in agreement, huffing out a small laugh. (“Indeed.”)

This was the most Mando’a the two of you had spoken since leaving Mandalore days ago. Slipping into it was effortless, and it helped logistically in the chaotic din left behind by the accident. It was easy to pick out the familiar words above the rest of the noise, allowing both of you to communicate painlessly.

Din chuckled, nodding as he turned to find the bounty again. “He’s moving toward the port. Fennec and Boba said they have the area well guarded, so he won’t get far, but I think it best we split up and head him off before he tries anything stupid.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” you muttered. “Man’s a or'dinii. Stole from the richest man in the city, okay, kinda smart. But that man is also a crime boss who wears beskar, and is probably one of the most lethal people on the planet, present company excluded.” (“Moron.”)

“Comms channel two. Head to the port through the streets, I’ll go through the alleys like we planned.” Din turned to the kid, sighing heavily after a moment.

Narrowing your brows, you followed his gaze and found Grogu letting out soft happy squeals as the cradle spun in circles by some unseen force. 

Moving as a unit, both you and Din reached out to grab the sides of the hovering orb, bringing it to a gentle stop, Grogu’s head still moving in a small rotation as the world continued to spin around him.

“At least he can entertain himself. And quietly,” you chuckled, turning your attention from the little green ward back up to Din’s visor. 

“Mmm-hmm,” he agreed on a hum, moving his hand from the edge of the cradle to his son to stabilize his still woozy wobbling, tugging down the front of his robe about an inch to check he had the beskar shirt on.

“I put it on him myself, Mando.” Din’s visor turned to you as he let the robe go, smoothing the fabric back in place before withdrawing his hand altogether. “He’ll be safe. I promise. He’s my aliit now, too, remember.” Din nodded once. “You have my word, no harm will come to him.” (“Family/Clan.”)

You couldn’t help but smile. Here was this large, dangerous Mandalorian, and his level of care and concern for arguably the smallest little ward in the galaxy never failed to make you stop and stare. Their meeting went beyond just fate, beyond just chance bringing a protector to a child in need. Something greater was at work here, bringing two lonely, damaged souls together to help pick up one another’s pieces. 

They were forged with fire, stronger than any beskar, hardened and tempered against the strongest of tests. And now not even the greatest blacksmith in the galaxy would be able to pry these two apart. But it loved to try. And you’d do everything in your power to keep them from breaking, keep them strong, no matter the cost. Ne shab'rud'mhi. (“Don't mess with us.”)

You smiled broader at the thought of staring fate down in the face, should it ever try to do your family harm. Ne shab'rud'ni. (“Don't mess with me.”) 

“Now go.”

Din took a few steps backwards, keeping his eyes on you, then the kid, before turning and disappearing down an alley, the smoke from the accident curling around him.

“You saw everything!” A man walked up to you, covered in black streaks of soot and smoke, probably grease from whichever of the three vehicles involved was his. “I need you to tell the authorities.”

Reaching out, you patted his shoulder in what he probably took for kindness, but you were just tamping out some embers smoldering through his tunic. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t have the time. I-”

“I wasn’t asking,” he ground out, grabbing your wrist where your hand still sat on his shoulder, squeezing it much too tightly. He gave it a good jerk toward the wreck, but you pulled back, making him stumble, before turning a glare on you.

Without fuss, you adjusted your grip on him and yanked him to you, stooping down slightly while swinging your arm before straightening back up as he flipped in the air, landing flat on his back at your feet with an oomph.

You looked down at him, unamused, as Grogu peered over the edge of the cradle, cooing gleefully. 

“I said,” you leaned just slightly closer to him, tilting your head when he flinched away, “no.”

Lifting your visor back to the streets, you switched your display to the city map, overlaying it with the tracker with a press of a button on your vambrace. Another press opened comm channel two. “You there?”

“What took you so long?” Din sounded relieved as you began to venture through the mess of market stalls toward your target. 

“Don’t worry about it. Locals,” you brushed off, turning abruptly to bypass a thick group of pedestrians.

He grunted. “Explain.”

“Someone wanted me to make a statement about the accident,” you sighed, navigating back to the main road. “Didn’t understand the word ‘no’.”

“How did you explain it to them?”

You grinned. “You know me. It was fast and only slightly painful.”

“Ti, you better not have-”

“I didn’t kill him,” you protested loudly, veering to the right. “Why did you jump to that?”

“Have you met you?”

“No. No, I haven’t. How am I? Am I great? I hear I’m amazing.” He let out a soft snort. “Yes. I can confirm, I’m amazing. I live up to the hype.”

Din’s soft chuckle filled your ears before a blaster shot replaced it, making you pull up short.

“Din?” He didn’t answer. “What’s going on?”

“Kriffing Jawas,” he grumbled. “Tried to jump me and take my jet pack.”

You snorted, shaking your head gently as you began moving again. “At least tell me-”

“It was set to stun,” he ground out as if the thought was physically painful to him, making you laugh a bit harder. “I know why you jumped to that.”

“Good, so you’ve met you.” Teasing, you pushed another button and a yellow dot popped up showing Din’s location.

“Yes. I can confirm, I’m amazing. I live up to the hype.”

“That’s what you think,” you mumbled under your breath, smiling again when he hummed in question. “Nothing.” Stopping, you watched the red dot start to head in a totally different direction. “He’s deviating.”

“I see. Looks like he’s doubling back. Headed your way.”

Nodding, you turned and headed back the way you came. “I’ll cut him off at the bar. The accident mess will add enough cover to not draw attention to us.”

“Good idea. Plus, then you can give your statement.”

“Nu draar.” Din chuckled at your response. “I would rather eat a mouthful of this sand.” (“Absolutely not.”)

“That’s commitment.”

“You sound like you speak from experience. You ever gotten a mouthful of Tatooine before?”

“Once or twice. I did kill a krayt dragon not long ago, remember.”

“How can I forget? You tell that story at least once a week if not more.”

Din grumbled.

“At the rate you’re moving, we’ll be at the bar at the same time.”

“How do you…. You’re tracking me?”

Dodging under a cart as it crossed the road in front of you, sliding on the sand in its shadow before hopping back up, you smiled at Grogu’s happy squeal of approval at your side. “You sound surprised. Of course I am. You and the child are my first priority.” Glancing over at the green smiling face at your side, wide eyes taking in the world around him, you moved a bit faster. “You aren’t the only one who did some display modification last night. I ran the upload while I was comforting Grogu after his nightmare.”

“How-”

“I have two hands. He fits in one, I can press buttons with the other-”

Din’s heavy sigh cut you off. “No, how are you tracking me? Chain code?”

“It’s a program I made a few days ago before we even left Mandalore, believe it or not. Chain codes would be too dangerous if anyone got their hands on it, especially for the kid. Too universal of a tracker. This is a regional proximity sensor, condensed to a certain mile radius I can set each time I open it. Right now it’s just three miles, the size of the city from the port to the hangar. It’s following your comm. Specifically the one in your helmet.”

He hesitated. “When did you-”

“I told you. You snore. Loudly.” He said nothing. “You didn’t wake up the entire time I plugged in, uploaded, modified…. You just kept snoring away under that dome, oblivious.” You grinned. “You’re lucky I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

“I think that would have woken me up,” he huffed. 

“Would it have, though?” The smile grew in the silence. “I’m good at my job, remember.”

“How can I forget? You remind me at least once a week if not more.”

It was your turn to grumble. 

The bar was just up ahead, the red dot of the quarry now still behind a few buildings to the right. “He’s stopped. The area behind the accident. Maybe he’s not so stupid after all….”

“Don’t tell me you’re starting to admire him.”

“Why? You jealous, Djarin?”

“No,” he answered after a moment. “Just…. Concerned. You called him a moron less than an hour ago.”

“Even morons have their moments,” you said absently, turning in a circle as you searched for a clear way to the target. 

That’s when you saw him.

He was leaning up against a wall, arms crossed easily, ankles crossed leisurely as he watched them begin to pull the vehicles apart, a small grin on his face. 

“He’s here.”

“What?” Din must have stopped, because his voice no longer shook from the impact of his footfalls. A quick glance showed his yellow dot was indeed stationary. “But the tracker-”

“Is wrong. I’m looking right at him.” 

Just then he looked up and held the gaze of your visor for a long moment, realization dawning on his face before he pushed off the wall and turned down the alley, disappearing in the smoke just like Din had. 

“Osi'kyr!” You took off running after him, pressing a button on your vambrace to make the cradle go faster, shaking your head when Grogu let out an approving cackle. (“Strong exclamation of surprise or dismay.”)

“Ti?” Din’s voice rang in your helmet, and he was once again in motion, grunting as he dodged around the many obstacles Tatooine always provided. “Which way?”

“South. Turn your display off and back on, it should reset. I don’t have time, I have eyes on him, I’m not losing that.” Jumping over a large crate, you had to vault over an even larger one on the other side, and your feet went out from under you when you landed, making you roll before quickly popping back up and resuming the chase. “The sand tastes like shit, by the way.”

A soft laugh filled your helmet, growing steadily with each second.

“Never give Tatooine an ultimatum. She’ll make sure you eat your words. Literally.”

Smacking your lips in distaste, trying to get rid of as much of the grit as you could without doing anything to your helmet and losing sight of the target, you made a sound of disgust. 

“Was that for my joke or the sand?”

You chuckled, licking your lips as you ran faster still. “I haven’t decided yet.”

The cradle kicked up a notch, speeding along beside you, dodging crates and civilians with ease. Grogu screeched with excitement, holding on to the front rim of the orb as his ears flapped behind him in the wind.

“Display is back up. He’s right in front of you.”

“I can see that, thanks.”

He huffed. “You have a dead end coming up. Two turns to the left and one to the right. Corral him there.”

Nodding, you turned sideways to shimmy past two tight walls. “Got it.”

The quarry was desperate, throwing whatever he could get his hands on at you, clothes on lines between buildings, pottery in people’s windows, contents people were carrying. 

You’d successfully dodged all of it, the kid too, his cradle swinging left and right as you ducked and rolled out of the way, making him let out little grunts from the impact of each abrupt direction change. Until a white shirt came flying toward the cradle, covering the kid from top to bottom, forming to him like carbonite from the force of the wind behind it. The impact cut his scream of glee short, silence ringing through the alley as your steps slowed just slightly, your attention turning to him, assessing him for injuries. Suddenly giggles started erupting from under the material, growing by the second, and finally the shirt flew off of him by an unseen force, drifting to the ground lazily as it was released. Grogu looked at you with pure joy, babbling something as he gestured toward the man with one clawed hand, the quarry’s steps slowing down as he looked down at the ground with wide eyes.

“Thanks, kid,” you chuckled, speeding back up, the cradle matching your speed as Grogu gripped the edges again, the bounty regaining control of his limbs and charging ahead. “You’re a little troublemaker, you know that?”

“Patu!” You grinned at his declaration, his own smile beaming up at you before he began to squeal again as you picked up speed.

The man kept glancing over his shoulder, stumbling when he did, but he’d gain the ground right back when he turned back the right way, making you grunt in frustration.

“You’re almost to the dead end.”

“Kriff! Son of a mudscuffer!” You hissed. “I forgot you were there, Din. You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” he sounded almost sheepish, before he began again abruptly. “Right! Right! Get him to go right!”

“Hey! Asshole!” The man’s steps stuttered before he leaned into it again. “Whatever you do, don’t you dare go right!”

He hesitated, slowing just slightly, and you matched him, wanting to give him the illusion of control. Finally he came to a stop, turning to face you, a skeptical eyebrow raised as he asked, “Why?”

You grinned under your helmet, trying to control the glee in your voice that he was falling for the trap. Stopping a few yards away from him, you slouched slightly, feigning catching your breath. “Because I can’t follow you there. My nav stops at this point and I’d be going in blind. Help a girl out, huh?” You held your hands out to the side, showing you didn’t have a weapon drawn. Grogu cooed questioningly as he tilted his head at the man.

“Well, in that case, I think that’s exactly where I’ll go.” He grinned.

“No,” you cried out, trying to sound convincing, and starting to head his way again, stumbling slightly for dramatic effect with a hand reached toward him as if it would do any good.

When he disappeared down the dark alley, you dropped all pretenses. “Or'dinii,” you muttered under your breath, watching after him. “Headed for the dead end, Din.” No answer. “Din?” Looking around, you saw his yellow dot stalled nearby, his comm crackling through. (“Fool.”)

A growled, “Jawas,” was all you heard, before some grunting, the comm crackling in and out, then the telltale “Utinni!” made you roll your eyes before you headed into the darkness after the mark.

“So long as I don’t hear the….” A distinct shot echoed in a nearby alley, making you lift your hand to cradle your face, shaking your head. “….Amban rifle.”

You walked up slowly, casually, enjoying the sight of the quarry staring up at the dead end, frantically trying to find a way up and over the massive wall. One hand resting on your hip as it juts to the side easily, you watched for a moment in amusement before clearing your throat. 

The mark went stiff before turning to face you, glowering fiercely. “Couldn’t come this far, huh?”

“To be fair,” you began, gesturing needlessly with your free hand as you spoke, “I did tell you not to come over here.”

He huffed an unamused laugh as he looked off to the side, ignoring the sound of a shrieking Jawa somewhere a few buildings over. 

Din’s yellow dot still blinked steadily despite the broken connection, and it seemed he was finally making his way over to you. You just had to stall.

“I’m assuming this is because I stole the credits?”

“That would be correct.”

“How much is my bounty?”

You tilted your head at him in amusement. “More than you took.”

“Okay, look lady,” he was starting to get desperate. “If you let me go, I’ll give you what I have left, plus interest!”

“Interest?”

“I didn’t just steal from Fett! I’ve been making my way across all the crime families of Tatooine. I’ve got a mountain of credits back at my place, stashed under the floorboards.”

“Gar cuyi or’dinii,” you whispered under your breath, but he heard you. He must have thought it was an exclamation of joy or disbelief at the information, though, because he simply smiled smugly, nodding as he offered a quiet, “It’s true.” (“You’re a moron.”)

And, well, you couldn’t really disagree.

“Where is this place?” You asked instead, jutting your chin toward him as he began to smirk.

“Right beside the bar across the street from where you first found me. There’s enough there for you to buy anything you want. New armor….” Din’s yellow dot was coming in fast. “A new ship….” He was almost here. “A friend for your, er,” he eyed Grogu, the child narrowing his eyes at him, unamused, “pet….” He finally decided on, earning a grunt from the kid.

“He’s not a pet,” you corrected calmly, taking a step closer to the man, and his smug demeanor all but crumbled instantly.

“I’m not scared of you!”

“I’m not the one you need to be worried about,” you replied simply with a shrug. Tilting your head back and to the right, you smiled under the beskar. “It’s his kid.”

The bounty barely had time to register your words, mumbling, “Kid? What is that thing?” before Din’s armor clad fist was slamming into his face with a clang.

As the engine of his jet pack powered down, Din took a few extra steps from the momentum before stopping, breathing heavily like he had just got out of a fight for his life. “We don’t know,” he said decidedly to the unconscious man. “But he’s my son.” 

“Utreekov,” you muttered, nudging the man with the toe of your boot. (“Idiot.”)

Slapping binders on the quarry, Din slung the man over his shoulder before turning back to you. “Kriffing Jawas,” he seethed, shaking his head before taking off again with his jet pack.

You shook your head in disbelief. “I don’t have one of those, why?!”

Din just laughed softly, the sound buzzing around the inside of your helmet.

Looking up as he disappeared over the buildings, his cape flapped dangerously close to the flames. “You’re just a fire hazard!”

Xxx

Boba and Fennec were there to meet you once you returned to the hangar. 

Peli was blushing at something the older man was saying, waving him off with a quick laugh as she turned to see your clan of three come through the door. 

“Oh, thank the Force, you’re all alive!”

“You thought we wouldn’t be?”

“With you I never know.” She leveled you with a look.

Din let the man flop to the floor unceremoniously, leaving him in the heap he landed in. “Here’s your thief.”

“That’s him alright,” Boba sighed, turning the bounty onto his back with a shove to his shoulder from his boot. “Thank you.” His eyes flicked between you and Din. “I heard about an accident by the cantina. That didn’t happen to be either of you, by chance?”

Din shook his head wordlessly while you copied him a few seconds later, adding, “No. Saw it happen, though. They swerved to avoid some wildlife.”

Boba nodded, looking between you both for a long moment. “Okay, then.” He began to turn away, but you stopped him.

“Wait.” He paused, looking at you with a curious tilt of his head. “The quarry spoke to me at the end, tried to bribe me. I think you might be interested in what he had to say.”

Boba gestured for you to continue with a bob of his head. “Go on.”

“He said he’s been making his way through the crime families of Tatooine. Offered to give me what was left of your credits plus interest.” You explained the rest about his house and stash, their faces a mix between frustration and surprise the further along you got. “He seemed to be telling the truth, but I wanted to know what you both thought before moving on it.” 

They exchanged loaded glances before asking you to go look into it. “Take Fennec, she’ll get you out of any locals asking too many questions. We’re from Mos Espa, but they know us here, too. Mando, I’ll help you get this one,” Boba shoved the man’s shoulder with the tip of his boot, earning a groan from his still unconscious state, “to my cells.”

“I’ll watch the kid,” Peli offered softly, pulling the cradle to her as Grogu snored gently.

Nodding, you turned and followed Fennec out the front door of the hangar. 

Xxx

Knocking on the door of the house, just as a precaution, you slammed your shoulder into it when nobody answered, busting it open. It was sparsely furnished, the only real defining thing a giant rug over the middle of the floor. Letting out a huff of laughter, you shook your head as you knelt down, flipping the corner back as you scanned the bare floor with your display, looking for a varying heat signature. Finding it near the middle of the rug after you pushed more of it to the side, you pried a board up, slipping the rest out easily and handing them to Fennec to set to the side. Pulling back once they were all removed, you let out a low whistle. 

Sure enough, under the floorboards there was a pile of credits, almost tall enough for you to stick your arm in up to your shoulder, and wide enough it’d take two containers to get it out. The ground underneath had been dug out, leaving behind a hole filled nearly to the brim. 

“He’s been a busy little thief, hasn’t he,” Fennec mused quietly as she stared at the glinting pile of credits with wide eyes. 

“Too bad he wasn’t also a smart one.”

Turning your visor her way, you met Fennec’s gaze in silence, holding it for a moment before you both broke down in snorts of laughter, warm chuckles filling the night air.

She sat back on her haunches, grunting as she settled in. “You know, I’ll admit, I was a little leery at the beginning. I’ve worked with Mando before, I didn’t really know why we needed you, too.” 

Turning your visor back to the pile of credits, she was quick to continue.

“But,” she said pointedly, “Boba was quick to help me see the error of my ways.” Smiling fondly, she waited until you turned your gaze back her way before saying anything more. “You two work well together.”

“He’s easy to work with,” you countered with a shrug.

“No he’s not,” she said with a snort, making you shake your head as you chuckled. “But he’s a good man. A good leader. And he loves that little foundling with a love that’s dangerous for anyone willing to get between them.”

“I would never do that,” you said quietly. “They belong together.”

“I’m not saying you would, but you’re quickly becoming someone he shares that same type of devotion for.” She reached out and took the mudhorn pendant around your neck between her thumb and index finger, a smile beginning up her face, her voice softening to something almost friendly. “And I’m beginning to understand why.”

Taking the mudhorn between your own fingers as you looked at it, you grinned. “Just a few days ago he couldn’t stand me, believe it or not.”

“Not,” Fennec huffed on a laugh, turning to look at you after another moment of silence. “I’ve known Mando for a while now, and he’s just…. like that. It’s hard for him to show his emotions sometimes. Boba, too. The way they grew up…. Well, I don’t have to tell you. I’m assuming you probably had the same type of childhood.”

Hesitating, you finally nodded briefly, looking down to your hands in your lap where you sat on the floor beside her.

“They don’t trust easily, they love fiercely, and they don’t do anything halfway. It’s all they’ve known. If you’re lucky enough to be welcomed into their circle,” she tugged the pendant lightly, “into their family,” she sat back as she continued, “there’s something special they see in you, something worthwhile, and you just need to keep being yourself to live up to that everyday.”

When you lifted your visor back up to meet her eyes, she smiled kindly.

“So, like I said, not. He was probably just watching and waiting for the right time.”

“Grogu is my little shadow. I think he was just relieved someone bought him five minutes alone.”

She threw her head back and laughed, her hand lightly gripping your upper arm. When her gaze landed back on you, a mischievous smirk took over her features. “I could be wrong. Maybe he was just waiting to ask you to be a babysitter full time,” you snickered, “but I’m thinking that signet tells a different story.”

Fennec reached into her pocket for her comm, mumbling something about needing to call Boba, but you held up your hand to stop her. “I have a secure connection straight to the comm in Mando’s helmet. Guaranteed private, and he’s with Boba. Let me call him and relay the information.”

She nodded, tucking her comm back into her belt.

Pressing the side of your helmet, you waited until you heard it connect. “Mando?”

“Ti? Everything alright?”

Pressing a button on your vambrace to project the conversation through your modulator so Fennec could hear, too, you nodded. “Yeah, we’re fine. We found the credits. What should we do now?”

“Hold on, I’ll ask him.” Silence filled the room before he came back. “How much is there?”

“Enough to fund your life on the run for over a decade, comfortably,” Fennec said dryly, her eyes darting across the pile of credits as she did some quick math. “Very comfortably.”

Silence again filled the line as you assumed he was relaying the amount to Boba in a much more concise manner. Finally his voice crackled back over the line. “He said he’ll send the Mods to come pick it up. Wait for them then leave and go back to the hangar when they get there.”

“They don’t need protection?” You had no idea who they were, but this was a lot of money to just let someone move without any sort of backup.

Fennec grinned. “They can take care of themselves.”

Xxx

The Mods dropped it off at the hangar a few hours later and left, leaving the five of you standing around the two containers, staring in silence at the mass of credits just sitting there.

Peli let out a low whistle like you had when you’d found the stash.

“How does someone steal this much and not get noticed?” Din’s voice was thick with disbelief.

“Little by little,” you answered, looking up at him when you felt his visor turn to you.

Looking at him for the first time today without your own visor in the way, you scanned over his armor, noticing a few scorch marks, and some scuff marks near his jet pack.

You smiled. “Those Jawas really did a number on you, didn’t they?” Reaching out, you tried to rub one of the scuffs away with your glove, digging your thumb into his beskar. 

Reaching up, he grabbed your wrist gently, turning it toward him with a soft grunt. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbled, untying the knot he’d tied to keep your glove on earlier. He pulled something out of the pouch on his belt and began attaching it. “Fixed this for you.” When he let his hands fall to his sides after he finished, you saw it was the buckle he’d torn off this morning. “Don’t let R5 get this one,” he joked.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, looking up at him with a smile as he nodded at you before he turned back to the pile of credits. Your eyes darted across the containers in front of you to find Fennec already looking at you, a sly smirk already firmly on her face.

“Told ya,” she said lightly.

“What?” Boba asked, looking across his shoulder at her.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his. “Nothing. I was just saying,” she gestured to the credits, her gaze falling back to them before lifting to yours. “I told ya it’s a lot.”

Boba nodded, turning back to the credits, not noticing the look Fennec gave you, eyebrows raised. “I’ve not heard anything about this money going missing from the other families. It could be they are just keeping it quiet, in which case, letting them know you know is just adding another enemy to your list.”

Din looked between the older man and Fennec. “So what do we do?”

Shrugging, Boba looked at him as if the answer were obvious. “Keep it.”

As he took a few steps back, Din shook his head, lifting his hands to begin gesturing as he spoke. “No. Absolutely not. We don’t need this much.”

Shrugging yet again, Boba sighed, arms crossing over his chest as he stared at the pile of credits like it was a problematic hyperdrive instead of the not so small fortune it was. “Fine.” He let out a breath through his nose. “I’ll take back what was stolen from me.”

Din took the few steps back toward the pile he’d pulled away. “That still is beyond too much.”

Turning to your friend who had been silent this whole exchange, you began speaking before either of the other Mandalorians could start in again. “Peli?” Her head snapped up to look at you, eyes wide. Separating a small stack of credits from the pile, you pushed them her way with the toe of your boot. “Would this cover your hangar fees for say, a year?”

Eyes wide, Peli gulped as she stared at the smaller pile, her gaze darting back up to yours as she nodded emphatically. “And then some.” 

“Good.” Breaking off another pile just a bit larger, you added it to the first, Peli’s eyes going comically larger still. “Consider this payment for babysitting up till now, and keeping you on retainer for whenever we need to stop by, storing the N1, and watching Grogu.”

Peli stammered for a moment, her mouth opening and closing as she stared at the small mountain of credits at her feet. Her eyes lifted to meet yours before they shot to Din, then the child sleeping soundly in her arms before landing back on the credits, nodding rapidly again. “As far as I’m concerned, this makes us square.” She studied the pile for a moment, before adding softly, “For life.”

Din pulled his hand down the front of his helmet, letting out a sigh of exasperation “That still leaves quite a bit.”

You shrugged like Boba had, making the man chuckle. “Running isn’t cheap.”

With a heavy sigh, Din finally nodded, his hands resting on his hips, shaking his head as he continued to stare at the pile. “We still use it sparingly.”

You nodded. “Agreed.” He turned to look at you one more time. “We have to save some for the foundlings.”

“The foundlings are the future,” Din said quietly in agreement. “This is the way.”

All five of you turned away from the credits for the first time since they arrived, looking at Grogu where he slept in the cradle Peli had just set him in.

“This is the way.” The smile on your face that only came in the presence of the child wasn’t going anywhere. “The future is in amazing hands, then.”

“The best,” Din concurred.

Xxx

“Drop by anytime!” Peli called after Boba and Fennec, waving at them as they walked down the street after leaving the hangar. “Just remember to use the door next time. Maybe?” She flicked her wrist in front of her. “Bah. They heard me.”

Laughing softly, you gestured Grogu’s cradle up the ramp of the Crest, walking alongside it until you got to the bunk. Turning to lift him up, you set him in his hammock before gesturing the now empty cradle over to the corner.

Closing the door to the bunk, you turned to find Din just coming up the top of the ramp.

“He’s down.” You stretched, hands on your back as you let out a loud yawn. “And honestly I’m not that far behind him.” You smiled at the sound of Din’s chuckle. “Did the credits get stored?”

He nodded. “Yeah, they’re right there, below the bunks. It’s a false bottom.”

“Sounds good,” you yawned again. “Well, I’m gonna head to bed-”

“Wait,” he stopped you, making you turn back to face him from the small bit you’d already turned away. “I have something for you.”

He made his way over to another crate along the wall, and pulled out a bundle wrapped in the tarp you’d used to cover the pieces of the Amban rifle. 

“While Boba was looking at the Crest yesterday, I asked him if he could help me get my hands on this for you. It needs a good cleaning, like everything else on this planet, but it’s in good shape, all the same.”

He pulled the material away from the object, and your breath caught in your chest. 

A raw beskar jet pack, like his own.

“How-”

“They didn’t know what they had.” Repeating your words about the Amban rifle as he looked at the jet pack for a long moment, he tightened his grip on it, his leather gloves creaking in protest. Lifting his gaze to yours, he held it as he gently set the gift in your hands. “But I do.”

The meaning of his words is not lost on you. He wasn’t talking about the jet pack anymore, at least not just about that. It was as close to a complement as he was going to get, and that made a smirk start to twist up the side of your face.

Reaching behind you to attach the jet pack, Din reached out and pulled your cape gently to the side out of your way, releasing it when it sealed with a whirr.

“How fortunate for me, then.” Your voice was soft, much softer than you intended, but it fit. 

Everything about this moment seemed fragile, precarious. But at the same time, something about it also seemed forged of steel, tempered and holding steady in the strongest of tests.

“Indeed.” He was smiling, you could tell. 

It had only been days of truly spending time with him, but something about Din just clicked. You could read one another under the beskar or from across the city over a comm. Never had you felt so in tune with another being, and it felt like something special.

“Thank you.”

He nodded.

It was unexpected, but you found yourself wrapping him in a quick embrace, arms around his neck as you pulled him close. He went stiff at first, but soon melted into the touch, his arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you impossibly closer still. Tightening your grip around him, you mumbled another thank you into his neck, the fabric of his flight suit rough against your skin as you pressed even closer, sighing into the warmth that was him.

This was different. This was new. It was exciting. But also terrifying. 

Your feelings seemed to have gone rogue, pulling you into him without your permission, and keeping you there. But then again, his seemed to be doing the same, if the way his hands were spreading across the expanse of your back below the jet pack was any indication. It was drawing you both in, and holding you tight, not giving an inch.

Growing up in a society that kept a barrier between you and everyone else, it was just inherent to keep your distance. And you didn’t realize until right now, faced with what you’d been blatantly denied, that you realized just how much you needed it. Like the jet pack, it finally made you feel complete, the missing pieces falling into place to paint a beautiful picture of what could be if you just…. Let it. 

Pulling back to look up into his visor, you smiled, hands falling to rest on his arms. “No, really. Thank you.” You gave him a gentle squeeze. “For everything.”

“I’d say you’re welcome, but since it’s your job to keep me alive, let’s just call it even.”

You narrowed your brows at him. “I’m good at my job.”

He chuckled softly. “And that’s the second time today you’ve said that.”

“And counting.” You grinned up at him, rolling your eyes when he groaned. Taking a few steps back, you headed for the ramp of the Crest. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a jet pack to clean up.” You paused after a few steps, your eyes narrowing at him curiously. “Wait. You said you asked him for this before we even agreed to help them?”

Din nodded. “I know it’s something you’ve wanted. The Armorer mentioned as much right before everything happened, something about I needed to sign off on something…. I don’t know, to be honest, I hardly listened sometimes. It was all a bit….”

“Much?” You offered.

He sighed. “Yeah. Too much. One of the only things that helped make it easier was you, actually.”

You scoffed. “I thought for sure you hated me.”

He let out a huff. “Oh, I thought I did.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “Believe me. I tried to convince myself I loathed you. But truthfully? We’re just too much alike, that I was frustrated that you were doing so well at your job and thinking of things before me.”

Grinning, you looked down at your feet before lifting your gaze back up to his visor. “What were the other things? You said that was ‘one of the only’….”

Din sighed, his hands resting on his belt as his weight shifted to one side. “Time with Grogu.”

“Of course,” you said, because obviously.

“And target practice.” You grimaced. “What?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this, boss, but…. Right before everything happened, I may have beaten your high score at the range.”

He was silent, his hands moving from his belt to rest on his hips as he stood up straight, visor leveled on you. “You what?”

You began backing up slowly, holding up a finger and lightly waving it at him. “I’m good at what I do, remember?”

“That’s three.”

“No, that’s technically different.” Your feet hit the sand at the bottom of the ramp. Pointing over toward Peli’s shop, you began moving that way. “I’m gonna go get started.”

Din began down the ramp, his tone dry and amused. “Are you going to paint it? I can go get some tomorrow.”

Looking at him over your shoulder, you shook your head, scrunching your face up at the thought. “Nah. I think the raw beskar looks best. Plus it matches yours.”

Din shifted his weight to one side. “You want ours to look the same?”

You shrugged. “I like people knowing who I belong to.” Turning back to face the workshop, you went on. “Let’s make clan mudhorn…. What was the word Boba used for the ship? Ah! Sparkle.” You chuckled. “Shiny big ship, shiny tiny ship, shiny big Mando, shiny smaller Mando…. You see the theme?” Looking back over your shoulder, the smirk slid off your face when you didn’t see Din anywhere in the hangar. “Great. I’m talking to myself.”

With a sigh, you turned back toward the work area, only to run straight into a wall of beskar. “Dank farrik, Din!”

“If you belong to clan mudhorn, you’re not going to be sparkling.” Din unfastened your jet pack. “You’ll be dral.” He set it to the side. “Dralshy'a - ori'shya ka'ra.” (“Glowing.”) (“Brighter - more than stars.”)

You grinned. “Ni emuurir gar jate'shya.” (“I like yours better.”)

Xxx

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