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fics-by-caroline · 3 years

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Bloodlust

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Magical!Reader

Summary: You and Loki are part of the Avengers, but the pair of you have different ideas of what justice entails than the rest of the group; i.e., more horror, more drama, an eye for an eye. And man, do you two ever look sexy covered in blood.

Category: Smut (18+ only, please!)

Warnings: Smut (blood kink, oral sex -- f receiving), rough sex, porn with some plot), language, graphic descriptions of violence, gore, smoking, alcohol consumption, mention of human trafficking.

A/N: This is my first time writing smut, so please be nice 🥺

Taking a drag from a cigar in the corner of the dimly-lit speakeasy, your target looked you up and down. Even without tapping into his thoughts, you could tell that he liked what he saw; how the black dress you wore hugged your figure, how you had crossed your legs in a way that allowed him to catch the red bottoms of your heels, red that was reflected in your lipstick and nails. You turned to make eye contact with him, and were immediately hit with hearing him imagine you on your knees sucking him off in one of his fancy cars and afterwards kicking you out onto the street.

Typical, You thought with disgust, finishing your martini. You could feel his eyes on you, burning into your back. Feeling him get up and walk towards you, you shot a knowing look at Loki across the bar.

“Can I buy you a drink?” The man’s voice was dripping in disgusting salaciousness. He sat beside you, reeking of the over-application of cologne, whiskey, and cigar smoke.

You shot him a demure smile. “A dirty martini, drier than the Sahara.”

The man waved down the bartender before leaning closer to you. “Michael Ashbourne.”

You suppressed an eye roll, taking instead to lighting a cigarette. “I know who you are, Mr. Ashbourne.”

“And what is it that you know of me?” Ashbourne stroked your hair with a drunken finger.

Uncrossing your legs, you turned to face him. “That you are one of the worst Midgardian men alive today. You cheat people out of their winnings in various casinos around the world, making yourself and your friends — no doubt the ones who surrounded you in that corner over there — some of the richest men in the world, while managing to operate under the radars of your enemy governments. You sell weapons and drugs because you always want even more money on top of the billions you already have, not caring about the damage you cause. You drink the most expensive liquors, sleep with all the women you please, and leave people eating the dust in your wake. But what brings you to the epitome of disgusting actions is your engagement in the trafficking of girls, once again, for even more money.” Even though you kept your voice low, you made sure to lace every word with biting poison.

Ashbourne pulled back in shock, unmoving and speechless.

You smirked at his silence. “Your cunningness is almost impressive, especially for a human. You manage to remain one step ahead of the mewling mortals who are left to crawl in your fading footprints. Bravo. Unfortunately for you, however, I am not one of them.” You waved a finger, from which a small ribbon of white magic followed.

“Who the hell are you?” Ashbourne hissed.

“A hero in the eyes of the people you have crossed, and the villain in yours.”

Ashbourne scoffed condescendingly. Stupid bitch, you heard him think. “Speaking in mysterious riddles just makes you look stupid, missy. I don’t know how you know what you know, but it’s a bit too much for my liking.” He raised a hand, beckoning over the large men who had accompanied him.

You sighed, unimpressed. Before they could so much as reach for their belt, you pulled the pistol from your garter stockings and fired silenced shots in between their eyes, before holding a dagger against Ashbourne’s throat. The speakeasy froze in horrified silence.

With a small chuckle at the sudden shock and fear in Ashbourne’s muddy eyes, you called to Loki. “Darling, are there others?”

“No darling, not here … but we can’t have witnesses, can we?” Loki sauntered up to you, kissing you on the head. He looked around at the few bystanders in the bar, terror keeping their feet rooted in place.

“Loki, is that really necessary —”

You were cut off by Loki launching towards the horrified bystanders like a cat pouncing on prey, his daggers slicing through their necks gliding ease. He finished off by throwing a knife into the bartender’s skull, silencing his terrorized mind that shrieked in your own so annoyingly. Loki looked back at you with an amused glint in his eyes, blood on every surface of the speakeasy, including Loki’s own body. Gesturing around him, he noted dryly, “They were dead in seconds, no suffering.”

You rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to Ashbourne, who sat with eyes wide and mouth agape. You smirked and applied a bit more pressure to the blade in your hand, drawing small beads of blood. You snuffed out your cigarette and stood up, toying with his bowtie as your heel dug into his foot. You could taste the fear that drenched his mind. “What’s this?” You cooed. “Feeling scared?”

“Ah, you’re so right, my love,” Loki smiled, looking around the room at the bloody mess he created. “Not using magic is so much more fun. I missed getting my hands dirty.”

You chuckled lowly. You couldn’t help but stare at him hungrily; there was something in the way the blood splatter stood out against his pale skin that awoke an arousal in you. Shaking your head, you turned back to the man under your knife and cocked an eyebrow. “How do you think I should do this? Stabbing is too classic, going for the neck is too neat.”

“Unzip him, dear,” Loki hummed. He shot a bolt of green magic towards the man, binding him in glowing ropes that wrapped around his pitiful body. Noticing your dry look, he shrugged. “I want a proper view of your handiwork, and I can’t have that if I’m holding him.”

“Fair enough,” You said. After a moment’s thought, you waved your hands, making Ashbourne’s shirt disappear in a white flash of your own magic.

“Wait, wait, stop. What do you want? Money? I have money. What do you want?” Ashbourne pleaded.

“I want ...” you said coldly, “to hear you scream.”

You stepped forward and sunk your dagger into his lower abdomen, slicing upwards smoothy, careful as to not sever any major blood vessels. Ashbourne screamed in agony — music to both yours and Loki’s ears. You grinned at the blood that spurted out to meet you, and tossed the dagger onto the surface of the bar. You looked at the open mess in front of you and sunk your hand into the open cavity, making Ashbourne wail.

Loki smacked Ashbourne’s face with a deadly glare. “Stay awake, you.”

You reached farther into Ashbourne’s gut, quickly finding the pulsating aorta. You looked up at Ashbourne’s paling face, cheek now sporting a bloody handprint from where Loki had slapped him, and pulled on the artery, which snapped and spurted hot blood all over you. Loki released his magic binds, leaving the body of the man to collapse like a rag doll onto the floor, very much dead.

You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears as you discarded the shred of aorta in your hands onto the lifeless body. You turned to look at Loki, who was smiling back at you with a familiar, blazing fire behind his eyes. He reached over and picked up your discarded dagger from the tabletop. He looked it over once, then swiped his tongue up one side of the blade. You groaned in arousal at the sight.

“The taste of justice, my dear,” He said, licking his lips.

He turned his fiery gaze back on you, holding the knife out for your taking. Without breaking eye contact, you licked up the other side, the metallic taste of Ashbourne’s blood spreading through your mouth only adding to the wet ache between your legs.

“Fucking hell,” Loki breathed, the large bulge in his dress trousers clearly evident.

You took the dagger, swiping away the rest of the blood that stained it on your finger and licked it clean. A deep rumble escaped from Loki’s lips before he smashed his lips onto yours, your tongues trading the tastes of blood and saliva. With a sharp tug, Loki tore your dress down and pinched your nipples between his bloodied fingers as he backed you up onto the bar. While normally, he would take his time with you, tease you at a torturously slow pace, make you plead and squirm beneath him, he now was fuelled purely by an animalistic flame, his lips and teeth marking your lips, jaw, neck, shoulders, collarbones. You broke apart only for you to render the pair of you naked by way of a flick of the wrist and a flash of white light. You stared at each other, both of you breathless and admiring how the blood that drenched your clothing had stained your bodies in a beautiful pattern of death.

“I love you so much,” You whispered.

“I love you too,” Loki said, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip lightly.

In a flash, the momentary gentleness was gone as Loki pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them. You shouted out in pleasure, then gasped when you felt Loki’s tongue on your clit.

“Fuck, Loki!” You hissed, throwing your head back and grinding deeper onto Loki’s fingers and tongue.

The most audacious and obscene sounds filled the speakeasy as Loki twisted his fingers inside your cunt and attacked you with his mouth. You moaned unabashedly and Loki in return groaned against your body. His nips against your clit were anything but gentle, his fingers fucking your cunt so deeply, so gloriously, that your entire body sparked with invisible electricity.

“You’re going to cum for me,” Loki growled, “you’re going to cum for me and make me drink it as you do.”

You nodded into the air, gasping, panting, writhing under him. You clenched around his head, locking Loki into place, and came on his face, rolling and thrusting your hips against his mouth. Loki held your hips and drank your release until your orgasm finally finished washing over you.

Before you could begin to catch your breath, Loki seized your neck in one large hand and pushed himself inside of you in one fluid motion, causing the both of you to moan loudly. He started moving his hips immediately at a quick and relentless pace, splitting you apart in pleasure. You reached up to wrap your arms and legs around him desperately. As he hit that sweet spot that no other could, you brought your nails down his back, no doubt drawing blood. All thoughts had disappeared from your minds, pure animalistic pleasure and arousal clearing everything else out. Your combined energy made the lights spark and flicker, furniture going flying as your grip on your magic became weaker. Loki slammed into you, your walls tight around him, his pelvis grinding in such a way that he moved against your clit. You were only barely registering how you clung onto him for dear life, the most indecent noises pouring from both of your mouths, bodies slick in blood and sweat sliding against one another. Your connection into each other’s minds let you both know that the other was just as close to their climax without speaking. Expletives punctuated your shared groans and screams, Loki’s grip on your body so tight that bruises were sure to follow, your teeth and nails marking his skin.

“Loki, I — fuck — Loki!” You cried as you felt your body begin to tremble uncontrollably.

“I know, I — ah! I know —!” Loki groaned, biting your neck.

You exploded again with a scream and you slammed your hand onto the table, releasing a huge pulse of magic that levelled the room around you. Green explosions set off around you as Loki lost control and spilled into you with a stammering thrust and deep groan. Even though your eyes were both closed, you could see each other in your minds, totally blissful and exhausted, chests heaving. Loki’s lips found yours in a loving kiss.

“We should ... we should clean up here before the others come by,” You said, still out of breath.

Loki nodded wordlessly. He pulled out of you, causing you to whimper. We waved his hand, and the speakeasy righted itself in a glow of green light. Tables and chairs fixed themselves, light fixtures hung back up on the ceilings, blood and bodies disappeared, until the only remnant of your activities was the gore that still covered your naked bodies. You stood up and cricked your neck before cleaning yourself and Loki up, and dressing the pair of you in the dress and tuxedo you two were wearing.

“What will we say to the others when they ask about the sudden disappearance of everyone here?” You asked slowly.

“Don’t worry, love,” Loki grinned, “we can tell them the truth. We’re both too valuable for them to kick us out of the group.”

You laughed and took Loki’s outstretched arm, walking out into the cool night.

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hqcult · 3 years

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21ST ## the miya twins

you visit hyogo to celebrate your 21st birthday with your extended family. you met atsumu and osamu, who were oh so excited to meet you.

. tw manipulation, pseudo-incest, noncon, cunnilingus, masturbation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mindbreak, implied double penetration, dark content . wc 4.3k

looking back, the twins are good fucking actors. they deserve some oscar-level award with how much they smiled those sweet honey smiles and lured you into a sense of security before baring their fangs and pulling you down to hell with them. but they never would’ve gotten the chance to act if you hadn’t been there as their audience. so, the truth remains the same—this is all your fault. you never should’ve insisted coming to hyōgo in the first place.

ever since getting adopted at the tender age of thirteen and moving to tokyo, you’ve seen everything there is to see, ate at every restaurant with a 5-star review on google. you’ve done them all at least thrice by now and it’s getting boring.

so, when your adoptive father had jokingly talked about coming to hyōgo to meet your extended family for your 21st birthday, you perked up in your seat and your eyes twinkled like stars.

your mom didn’t want to go at first, of course, claiming you’ll get carsick but your parents eventually gave in after seeing the pleading look in your eyes and the genuine excitement in your stance.

long story short, you did end up getting carsick. quite a few times too, actually. but you were already driving along the expressway and your mom’s sister was already expecting the three of you. so, naturally, you guys pushed through, your dad making sure he drove as smoothly as possible in order not to trigger another barfing session from you.

it was twilight by the time your dad pulled up on his sister-in-law’s driveway and the first you see were two identical faces—twins? for step-cousins? well, now that was something. you’ve never really met twins before so it was a whole new experience and it excited you greatly.

not to mention how you and atsumu instantly hit it off, your personalities aligning. yet when you sat next to osamu during dinner, the younger twin found it wasn’t as hard talking to you compared to his brother. in fact, he found it interesting how easy it was to converse with you, the words flowing out his lips. you were just so painfully compatible with them that why oh why did the universe have to make you their half-cousin?

the shift in their behavior wasn’t at all gradual but can you really blame them? you were such a good daughter, such a beauty. and they guess the whole ‘pseudo-incest’ taboo thing amplified your appeal all the more.

well, at least in their defense, atsumu and osamu genuinely wanted to get to know their new cousin in the most innocent, platonic way and not this weird thing they’re feeling right now. but you were so damn irresistible that they couldn’t keep their feelings in check.

how kind of ‘samu to grab the coffee container at the topmost shelf for you during breakfast, not knowing he purposely puts it there every night so he can “accidentally” rub his morning wood against your ass.

your ‘tsumtsum is such an angel when he doesn’t hesitate to take off his outerwear and lends it to you whenever you forget yours, not knowing he snatches them from the laundry basket and leaving you no choice but to use his. the sweet scent you leave on the jacket is enough to throw him off the edge and have him climaxing as he fucked his own hand.

nobody noticed, everyone was distracted by their achievements at such a young age. all their mom had to say is how osamu yet again made it to dean’s lister or how atsumu got scouted for a national team.

your mom and dad didn’t notice, lost in the daydream of always wanting to have their own son only to end up with you. blinded of their dazzle that the rotten pieces of them were fully camouflaged by the glow.

it all came to a peak when the twins were pulling all-nighter playing games like always.

atsumu needed to use the restroom, and just as he’s passing by your door, he heard a questionable sound that made him stop, frozen and unbelieving.

carefully, he tiptoes closer to place his ear against your door, praying to whomever that the floorboards don’t creak and disrupt whatever you’re doing. silence, seconds of it. then click, a switch turning on, he hears low vibration and a shaky whimper, a slick sound that reminded him of—

you were touching yourself.

holy fucking crap.

atsumu can only stare at the door with a knowing curl in his lips as he quickly pushes down his boxers. the risk of getting caught masturbating so out in the open making all the blood rush south.

“guess yer not as innocent as i thought ya were,” he mutters, spitting on his palm before wrapping it around his dick.

he shut his eyes close, clinging desperately into the imagination of how it would feel like to fuck your cunny instead of his hand. how the view would be like as he forces your legs up and into a mating press as he rutted his hips into you. at least you were loud, the moans he can hear as clear as day and he’s thankful he needn’t depend on his imagination anymore like all the other times.

you better be fucking thankful that the rest of the rooms were downstairs or else your parents and their mom would’ve heard by now. eh, atsumu didn’t mind. he got off on the risque idea of getting caught in the act.

when your pitch grows whinier and he hears your quick rufflings on the bed, he knows you’re close. he can hear the frantic and changing levels of the vibrator as you fucked it into your walls.

“fuck,” he hissed, the mental image of you masturbating and putting on a show for him making him teeter over the edge.

he grunts, low and animalistic, as spurts of his cum stains his hands and the floor. he didn’t care. he pumped himself through his orgasm and it was the best he’s ever got in a while. who knew all he needed to hear was his little step-cousin lewdly touching herself? naughty, naughty girl.

when he heard your panting after cumming against your little toy, he took his cue and speed-walked towards his and osamu’s bedroom to get a cloth he’ll use to clean the front of your door. but just as he caught you in the act, he caught his own brother red-handed, too.

the tiny specks of cum on the wall where osamu stood is a ghastly sight but atsumu couldn’t care less.

silently, the twins exchanged a knowing glance.

“ya heard ‘er too?”

someone knocks on your bedroom door on the eve of your birthday.

osamu was tasked to wake you up while atsumu started the car. you didn’t respond. were you… he slowly opens the door, he spots you immediately in the bundle of blankets atop your bed. when he stalks closer, you looked so cozy that osamu almost got tempted to ditch the idiot and come snuggle with you under the blankets instead.

but he has two heads and the one he’s using to think is located south.

he wakes you up with a gentle shake on the shoulder. “‘samu?” you mutter, voice low and croaky from your deep sleep when you see a blurry tousle of gray hair.

“let’s do a countdown for yer birthday, angel. come on, put on a jacket. ‘tsumu’s already startin’ up the car.”

osamu’s blunt nails dug half-moon crescents into his palms as he saw your tiny pajama shorts and the slip top when you shoved the blankets away. he swore his palms would’ve bled, especially after seeing you bending over to look for a hoodie inside your luggage.

he stared so openly, it was almost predatory in a sense.

as you scamper down the stairs with the younger twin’s hands dangerously grazing the top of your rear, you thought it’s plain old protective ‘samu being worried you’ll make a misstep and break your neck.

“where’s everybody?”

“just us three, angel. ‘lil cousin bonding before yer big party tonight, y’know?”

you giggled. how sweet, you thought.

you didn’t sense a thing. didn’t see a single red flag even if it was being waved across your face like what they do in bullfights. osamu felt a little sorry for how they’re blatantly manipulating you but it’s too late to back out now, much less let the guilt eat up his insides. he shouldn’t be a hypocrite considering he jacked off to your moans, too, that night.

he’s really no different than atsumu and it’s a tough pill to swallow.

“shotgun!”

it wasn’t osamu that stops you, but atsumu, from scampering into the front seat. the older twin quickly locks the door before lowering down the passenger side’s window.

“nuh-uh, birthday girl. ya can’t sit here or the surprise’ll be ruined!”

you grumble, frowning as you scoot yourself in the backseat of the car. atsumu twists his torso towards the back, asking you to wear the blindfold he’s handing you. it was a little tough with how stubborn you are but ‘tsumu’s just too good with his words.

you drove for thirty minutes before the car pulled up somewhere. the world is tranquil outside, so you couldn’t have driven to the nearest city. your initial guess is a beach, but there were no splashes of water. maybe a cliff-side or a forest?

the car’s ignition turns off and you call out to the twins.

“‘tsumu? ‘samu? where are we? can i take my blindfold off now?”

“just a moment, doll.” there’s an excited lilt to atsumu’s voice and you can’t help but fidget in your seat, feeling the excitement crawling up your spine as you think of what their surprise could be.

you hear them clamber out the car. you scoot closer to the door just as the backseat opens, a silly smile on your face. “you guys didn’t have to do this, you know, but i appreciate it so mu—”

someone tackles you to the seat and the air gets knocked out of your lungs. he’s heavy and you felt the muscles underneath his shirt as you tried to push him away but to no avail—you know it’s a man, it has to be because you felt the broad shoulders and something poking at your thigh. you feel him nosing the side of your neck and his hands crawling under your shirt. his freezing skin against your own is what snapped you out of it.

“atsumu! osamu!” you cried, calling for help.

you inwardly gasped, realizing something. maybe they were hurt! maybe your assaulter had creeped up behind the twins just as they opened the door for you, knocked them out cold, before trying to have their way with you. at the thought of the twins getting hurt, you thrashed, fought, and screamed with newfound fervor.

“couldja calm down and shut yer fucking trap?”

when the blindfold flies away and you see the man straddling you on the backseat of atsumu’s car, how you wished your assaulter had never taken it off.

atsumu had never looked this scary from your point of view, then again he never straddled you like this in the weeks prior. never looked at you like how he’s looking now—there’s clear hunger and lust in those eyes. you’ve seen that look one too many times from boys back in your university when you had your one night stands. but it had all been consensual and you loved them looking at you that way but this is different.

so, so different.

you can’t look at him in the eye, not when he’s staring at you like that. it felt like you’re pushed into a corner, vulnerable and bare even with the clothes you’re wearing.

“please, get off of me.”

“get off ya?” he repeats, mirth in his eyes as he hauls you up to a sitting position. he finally shuts the door behind him. “but i’ve been wantin’ to do this for weeks.”

to further emphasize his point, he grounds his hips against yours, making sure the tip of his already erect cock grazes against the bud of your clit. his boxers and the thin fabric of your shorts isn’t helping. he groans wantonly, angling his hips to do it again until you slipped out from under him and maneuvered your way to the other door.

osamu! osamu will stop him, you thought with teary eyes as atsumu growls and quickly pulls you back by the forearms, your back to his chest as you try to claw your way out of the athlete’s grip.

“‘samu! ‘samu, help me!”

but when the said twin opens the door and slips inside the car with little to no surprise present in his face, a type of fear you’ve never felt before runs up your spine. the look in osamu’s eyes reflected that of his twin’s and with sinking realization, you knew he wasn’t there to help you.

“happy 21st birthday, angel.”

and then he’s ducking down to kiss you. his lips are soft and they moved tenderly, in contrast to the barbaric way they tore at your clothes, the cold making you shiver in your underwear.

dealing with one sick person is enough, but with two, you’re not so sure. you only had two hands, if you pushed osamu away, atsumu would have free access and vice versa. your legs couldn’t move either, thanks to the cramped space of the backseat.

while holding down your hands, atsumu marks every inch of untainted skin he could see as osamu swirls his tongue inside your mouth. you’ve never felt so disgusted and dirty, but above all, betrayed. even if it was a few weeks since you’ve met, you still saw them as family. sure, you weren’t technically blood-related but in the papers it’s a different story.

when osamu pulled away, you averted your eyes but his hand reached up to hold your chin, forcing your eyes to meet. you feel his other hand trailing up your thighs, fingers dangerously close to your clothed sex as he watched you like a fox. he wanted to commit this moment to memory. every twitch and small gasp you make as his cold fingers pinched at your clit and traced your pussy lips.

“staying quiet, princess?” atsumu comments, hands snaking around front to squeeze and grope your breasts over the bra you wore. “ya weren’t like this when i caught ya touchin’ yerself last week.”

your eyes widened. when you tried turning your head to look over your shoulder towards the other twin, osamu shoved two fingers inside you.

your reaction was immediate. the pleasure and pain mixing as a loud gasp escapes your lips. “eyes up front,” he murmurs, the firm hold on your chin going higher to encase your whole jaw.

“oi, ‘samu, didn’t think you’re the possessive type,” atsumu says, teasingly placing his chin on your shoulder as he smiles that lazy smile you know osamu hates. “not that i’m going to lose.”

the older twin slips your bra off just as osamu takes his fingers out to lewdly lick up your slick. he moans, keeping his eyes trained on your horrified face. “sweet. but not wet enough for us, angel.”

“what—no—!”

“let me have a go.”

before you could even react, atsumu’s spinning you around to face him as he shoves your shoulders down. due to the cramped space, your head collides with osamu’s thighs, narrowly missing the tent in his joggers. the weight in his thighs makes the younger twin fidget and squirm as he hastily reaches for your hand, pulling his bottoms down just enough for his cock to spring out. you wince when it hits the side of your face. osamu loved the disgust in your face when he spat at your hand and used it to get himself off as he started stroking his cock.

meanwhile, in one swift motion, atsumu is pulling your panties down and licking a stripe up your cunny, the tip of his tongue prodding at your clit as his hands come up to slap your pussy. “how dare ya be so quiet,” he hisses, sucking harsher on your clit to pull a reaction out of you. “let me hear ya whine and moan, babe. i’m fuckin’ sure as hell my tongue is better than some cheap ass vibrator ya used.”

but your lips are stubbornly sealed as you arched your back. like hell you’d play into their wants and sick fantasies. they were your cousins! forcing you to enjoy this is just downright wrong. and knowing they’ve eavesdropped and silently lusted over you while having those innocent little smiles on their faces… were they not in the least bit guilty for deceiving you? deceiving your parents?

“give ‘er somethin’ bigger. i think she’s askin’ for it.” osamu says, kneading one of your breasts and tweaking your nipples as he continued to pump himself using your hand.

because he lost to rock paper scissors, he’s going to fuck you after atsumu and no matter how furious he was, a deal’s a deal.

like an idea switching inside his head, atsumu falters, staring right at you with sparkles in his eyes before his lips curled into a devious smirk.

“no, no, no,” you scramble, trying to sit up in order to push him away but osamu is quick to pin you down. “atsumu—no—you don’t want to do this, please—!”

“shut it, princess. i know what i want and that’s to fuck yer sweet little cunny right ‘ere,” he mocks by planting a sweet kiss against your lower lips.

“can ya stop with the dirty talk my dick’ll go soft, ya scrub!” osamu hisses, his hands wrapped around yours getting tighter as the lewd sounds of his slick gets louder.

no matter how much osamu denies it, he’s getting off on seeing you squirming under atsumu and god he never thought to have a voyeurism kink but here we are.

atsumu shoves his boxers down and you turn away from glancing down at his cock, osamu had to ruthlessly pull your hair and make you look as you slowly start tearing up. he was bigger than most guys you’ve met in college and you dread the painful stretch it’ll take for him to shove that dick inside you.

“shh, princess. don’tcha worry, yer all prepped to take me.” he scissors your pussy lips, the sticky wetness creating lewd sounds before pushing his stained fingers into your mouth. “hear that? go on and taste yerself.”

he gave you no choice, fingers pushing your tongue down until you obliged to his wishes. from behind you, you hear a low grunt and a pant as osamu throws his head back. he was close, you could tell and you surely didn’t want your face to be near his cock once he cums.

“‘tsumu, god damn it! hurry and fuck ‘er already!”

osamu was close and his mind was clouded. he needed to see you get railed in order for him to teeter towards that delicious edge of pure ecstasy. needed to hear the noises like the ones you made that night.

“i got it, i got it. fuckin’ impatient bastard.”

“atsumu, stop—!”

but he doesn't bother to listen, pushing his cock deep all in a single thrust. you were right. the stretch slightly stings and you bet it would’ve hurt more had he not bothered to suck and lick at your pussy earlier. “it hurts,” you sob, trying to curl in on yourself while keeping atsumu from leaning in.

but your strength is no match for him as he peppers light kisses down your neck, osamu helping with pushing your hair away to expose more skin. “shh, shh,” the faux-blond coos. “it’ll get better, i promise ya. yer gonna love it so let me move, okay?”

“no, wait, take it out, wai—!”

he starts thrusting, timed and rhythmic as his hands reach under your thighs, slightly raising your lower body to meet the angle of his hips. you couldn’t deny that it felt good like he said. the heavenly drag of his dick inside your walls, feeling you squeeze around him just as he nearly pulls out, only to thrust it all back in again. he wanted to keep this “making love” pace as long as he wants but he’s getting irritated but how you still wanted to keep your pretty lips shut.

that’s when you truly felt the vehicle jolting back and forth, brought by the sudden way atsumu manically fucks you like some animal. the change of pace surprised you greatly, choking on your saliva and letting out a pornographic “ah!” as he started railing you in the backseat of his car. you were way past the point of no return as immense pleasure spiked your nerves. all thoughts of somehow fighting their advances being shot out the window.

“that’s it,” atsumu pants, swinging your legs up against your chest to fuck you even deeper. “come on, make some noise, princess. i want people to hear how good i make ya feel even if they’re miles away.”

after all this is over and the lustful haze they forced you under is gone, you’ll regret the way you moaned and groaned and whined like how you’re doing now. embarrassing, how even as atsumu leans closer to kiss you, you don’t push him away. a mess of saliva and sweat mixing as his pace doesn’t relent and the fierce jolts of the car only adds up to your pleasure.

“‘tsumu!” you screamed, one hand holding onto his hair and the other scratching at his back. “i’m close—shit!”

he replies with a moan of his own, drawn out and whiny, feeling your walls suffocating his cock as he continues to drive it in and out with a speed you’ve never experienced with your past rendezvous. perks of being an athlete, you guess. “don’tcha dare fuckin’ cum until i tell ya to or else.”

but that little devil is making it harder for you to obey him as one of his hands snakes in between your bodies to start toying with your clit, drawing firm circles and figure 8’s to draw in that eventual release. “no, no, ‘tsumu don’t!” you tried reaching down but his hand only tugs it back, firmly holding your wrist as he continues his ministrations.

it’s too much. you were feeling it all too much and in the heat of the moment, you forgot everything else—you arch your back and felt your climax crashing over you as your cum steadily makes a mess off the backseat with every thrust atsumu made.

he stops.

his head hangs low, looking at the view of your interconnected bodies before scoffing in disbelief. menacingly, he raises his head to make eye contact with you. “didn’t i fuckin’ tell ya to cum only if i tell ya to cum?”

the faux-blond grabs at your hair, ruthlessly tilting it back as you feel a sticky sensation running down your nether lips. you shake your head, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

“but—!”

“i don’t care. i warned ya, didn’t i? so don’t fuckin’ hate me after all this is over.”

suddenly you feel your fight surging through you again like a tidal wave. this is wrong. how dare they do it even after you said no. how dare they do it and make you enjoy it?

“aw, cute. angel’s still got some fight in ‘er left.”

you thrashed against atsumu as soon as he swiftly pulls out of you. he doesn’t even break a sweat while restraining you with his bare hands.

“let me go! you fuckers! i’ll tell—”

“tell who? our parents? this isn’t elementary school, princess. ya get what ya fuckin’ deserve and it’s not our fault ya like swingin’ that pretty ass so much.”

you growl as a retort, attempting to bite atsumu’s hand off as he swiftly spins you around to lay on your stomach. you cringe, feeling your sticky essence against your skin. you didn't have time to feel humiliated, not as you came face to face with osamu’s still erect and angry dick.

you weren’t dumb, you knew why the faux-blond made you face his twins’ way—this is to be your punishment, he said, all the while feeling him scramble about behind you. it wasn’t only ‘til you feel atsumu’s tip prodding at your ass did you realize what’s going to happen.

“go on and give our ‘samu a nice suck, yeah? put on a show and if ya dare use yer teeth, i’ll personally make sure ya regret ever coming to hyōgo.”

you came back at dawn, during the sunrise. it’s glow basking the whole house in a nice orange tint. “what are you guys doing up so early?” your mom asks when she sees the three of you piling in from the front door.

she was too busy rubbing the sleep out of her eyes that she missed everything—the way osamu’s oppressive arm wrapped around your shoulder got tighter, the way atsumu gave you a nasty side eye, and especially the fearful expression on your face.

“no - nothing, mom. they just wanted to have a birthday countdown for me.”

“oh, right! happy 21st, sweetheart.”

#yandere haikyuu #yandere hq #yandere atsumu #yandere osamu #yandere miya atsumu #yandere miya osamu #toxichours #(❁ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) mine ༉‧#yandere atsumu x reader #yandere osamu x reader #yandere miya osamu x reader #yandere miya atsumu x reader #tw yandere #tw noncon #tw exhibitionism #tw:incest #tw voyeurism

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marvelouspeterparker · 3 years

Note

⛳️for tom

i don’t think i’ve ever written for richkid!tom but here we are––u could say @worldoftom inspired this since her upcoming fic sounds kinda similar to this! and i only realized halfway through writing it sjhfgsjkd

warnings: 18+ smut

––✧––

how your boyfriend managed to convince you to go to his golf club, in golf attire on top of that? you have no idea. but when you went over to his place and he told you he had something to give you with that familiar glint in his eyes, you knew it wouldn’t be innocent.

he brought you to his room and gave you a bag from a store you didn’t know––but one thing you knew for certain is that you wouldn’t be able to afford anything from it even if you saved up.

his eyes watched you intently as you sorted through the pristine wrapping and packaging to pull out a skin tight black shirt, along with a short white pleated skirt and a white visor to match. you looked up at him curiously, knowing there had to be more to it than it seemed.

that was when he told you he wanted you to go to the club with him so he could teach you how to play...then fuck you in the bathroom afterwards while you’re still wearing the outfit. you hate to admit it, but the way his eyes darkened and his voice deepened when he said that made the proposition all the more appealing to you. so you accepted the gifts and the offer, and that led us to now.

you took a deep breath as tom wrapped his arms around you, seemingly to help position you properly, but the way his hips were pressing into your backside proved otherwise. his hands held your wrists gently and you couldn’t help but smile at the irony of how much rougher he normally was with you, when his hands would pin your wrists down above your head.

“now just bring these,” he tilted your hands more to the side, “over here.” then he took his hands away and placed them at your waist, “and turn your body more this way. his fingers dug into your sides and you sucked in a breath from the feeling of his hands on you. “that’s it good girl.” he brought his hands back to your wrists and pulled them back, “and now you just––” he swung your hands down and the club hit the ball with a satisfying tink, “swing.”

you both watched the ball fly in the air before landing somewhere in the grass––you weren’t really paying attention to be honest, you were too focused on the feeling of tom’s hands sliding up your arms and down to your waist. you turned your head to look at him and he licked his lips as he caught your eye. “was that good?” you batted your lashes at him teasingly and he smirked.

“that was great, lovie.” he leaned in and left a longing kiss on your lips, making you forget your surroundings until he pulled away. “but let me show you how it’s done.”

you rolled your eyes despite the smile on your face and swerved out of his grasp, swatting his hand playfully when he spanked your ass slyly. you stepped back a few feet behind him and crossed your arms as you watched him. your eyes traced over his figure, his broad shoulders, his muscles curving through his shirt, arms bulging from the sleeves––and his form was annoyingly perfect.

you watched him raise his arms and swing down with force, hearing the club slice through the air as he tilted his body to the side, hitting the ball much farther than you did.

he turned around, the club over his shoulder, his arm flexed, a smirk on his face as he eyes swept over your body, lingering on the parts of your skin that were exposed––your neck, your thighs, all the places he liked to mark up. you walked up to him and slid your hands up from his waist to his chest as you looked up at him innocently. “not bad, tommy.”

he licked his lips as he locked eyes with you but when his eyes flitted behind you, his gaze darkened and he clenched his jaw. you turned your head in confusion until your eyes fell upon the person he was glaring at. nate, another member at the club who was around the same age as you and tom. he took every chance he could to show off and one up tom. that, tom could handle, since he was better than him in any way possible––his words. but the one thing he did that tom absolutely could not stand, was stare at you, flirt with you, anything involving you.

you noticed nate’s eyes on you and tom’s arm circled his arm around your waist. you turned back around to tell tom not to worry about him when he brought his free hand up to your neck and pulled you into him for a possessive kiss, his tongue eagerly licking its way into your mouth, his lips chasing yours for more when you pulled back.

his tightened his grip around your neck and you whined into his mouth, your hands coming up to tug at his hair. his other hand slid down and grabbed your ass cheekily, clearly staking his claim, only turning you on further.

you pulled away as best you could, but tom only let your lips separate from his for a few seconds as you spoke. “should we. go. to the. bathroom?”

he nodded, his lips still attached to yours for a moment, before he bit your bottom lip and pulled away, a hungry look in his eyes. you licked your lips, already reminiscent from the touch and taste of his own and he took your hand in his. “let’s go.”

he dragged you to the nearest private bathroom and of course, it was huge, the countertops marble, as well as the floor, a large mirror taking up most of the wall behind the sink, a gold frame around it. but you weren’t given much time to admire the setting as tom locked the door and bent you over the sink almost immediately.

you gasped as he slapped your ass harshly and looked up in the mirror to find him already looking at you through the glass. you arched your back further and he cursed, his eyes falling back down to your body. his hand smoothed over your ass before he flipped the skirt up and hastily pulled your panties down to your thighs and pulled his cock out. he stepped back and you had to bite back a whine when his hand pulled away from you.

his eyes were locked on the sight between your thighs, your wet folds, the way you were clenching around nothing, aching to be filled. “look even more beautiful than i thought you would, all spread out for me. s’like you were made he stroked his cock slowly and bit his lip as you started squirming, getting impatient with him, needy for his cock just the way he wanted.

“m’sure nate would love to see you like this. all bent over and pretty for him. but he doesn’t get to. and he never will.” he locked eyes with you. “isn’t that right, darling?”

you nodded. “only you get to see me like this tommy.” his mouth fell open at your words and you felt a tingle run down your body. “please fuck me the way only you can.”

he closed the distance between you and slid his cock between your wet folds, loving the way your breath hitched and your ass pushed back into him. “i’ll give you what you need, lovie. what only i can give you.” he slid himself in and bottomed out in one go and you both moaned at the feeling of every inch of his cock fill you up.

“fuck, tom––”

he slapped your ass and started thrusting into you slow and deep, your hips pressing into the marble counter with every jolt of your body.

“that’s it. don’t hold back baby. want everyone to hear just how good i fuck my girl.”

your eyes were struggling to stay open, your lips parted as moans and whines passed through them freely, echoing in the walls of the bathroom along with tom’s praises and grunts, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours, his palm hitting your ass every now and then.

his grip on your waist was tight––bruising, but you loved it, and he knew you did. he leaned forward and attached his lips to your neck, biting and sucking possessively as his hips snapped harshly into your ass, almost animalistic as he hunched over to hit all the right spots inside of you.

he shoved a hand between your legs to rub your clit and cursed when you clenched around him, your hands gripping the edge of the countertop desperately as you begged him to keep going, to fuck you until you couldn’t think anymore.

he sped up his hips and his hand and let his lips press against your ear as he grunted. “gonna cum inside my pussy, then i’m gonna put your panties back on you and we’re going to walk out and finish the game, making sure to walk by nate so he can see all the pretty marks i left on you.” you whined and he chuckled, biting your earlobe teasingly. “but first i need you to cum. so be a good girl and do it. cum on my cock like a good slut––”

your eyes rolled back and you gasped, seeing white as your head fell back, offering your neck to him as your walls spasmed around his cock, milking him dry.

“fuck––fuck, baby girl.” he kept pounding into you, biting into your neck as he released inside of you, prolonging both of your highs. “such a good girl. my good girl.”

he rested his head against your shoulder as you both caught your breaths and wrapped his arms around your waist again, hugging your from behind as you laughed breathlessly.

he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and you leaned your head on his lovingly, catching his eye in the mirror as you brought your hands down to hold his arms.

“so did it live up to your expectations?”

he perked up, “what, fucking you in this outfit at the club? a fucking dream come true love, you have no idea.”

you laughed and shook your head, endeared.

“but come on let’s get out of here. i wanna rub it in nate’s face.” he pulled out of you gently and hissed before sliding your panties back up and cleaning himself up.

he grabbed your jaw firmly and pulled you in for another lasting kiss and this time you chased him when he pulled away. he smiled at you, a glint in his eyes. “mine.”

you nodded, biting your lip. “yours.”

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland blurb #tom holland smut blurb #tom holland emoji blurb #richkid!tom holland #richkid!tom holland smut #richkid!tom holland x reader

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evening-starlight · 3 years

Text

Daddy’s Best Friend

Honestly? FILTHY

My computer part is FINALLY in so we’re back on a that writing shit

All Works Master List

DBF Master List

Word Count: 1692

T/W: Smut, Spanking, Slapping, Unprotected Sex, Honorifics (Sir, Pet), Praising, Oral (Male Receiving), Teasing, Heavy Petting, Brat, Dirty Talk

Tom wakes up with half his bed cold, where it was occupied by Amaris just hours earlier. He opens his groggy eyes to see a shadow slipping out of his room silently. With a slight groan, he rolls out of bed and follows the person into the kitchen. "You're up early," Tom comments as he sees Amaris cooking breakfast. She smiles over her shoulder at him.

"I couldn't sleep, so I decided to cook. I hope that's okay," Amaris says, turning back to the scrambled eggs in her pan. Tom wraps his arms around her waist and rests his head on her shoulder.

"Of course it is, Mari. I'll never say no to you cooking." Amaris giggles as Tom places sweet kisses along the exposed skin of her neck.

"If you keep acting up, Tom, the eggs will burn," Amaris warns as Tom's hands travel up her torso, cupping her breasts under Tom's shirt. She whines and pushes her back against Tom. He reaches around her and turns off the gas stove, pushing Amaris's skillet to the back burner.

"Problem solved," He whispers into her ear, nibbling on the earlobe. Amaris whines again as Tom sinks his teeth into her neck, right where she turns into a puddle for him. "Your noises drive me wild, Pet." He groans, rutting his hips into her back as he pulls on her hair, exposing the opposite side of her neck.

Amaris sighs, leaning her head back against Tom's shoulder, indulging in his sweet kisses. His touch becomes rougher. Tom's hand pulls at one of Amaris's nipples, pulling a soft squeal from her as his other hand wraps around her neck possessively. "Get your ass on the counter, Pet." He demands, voice low and gruff.

"Or what?" Amaris giggles, feeling like pushing Tom's buttons early in the morning. His hand tightens around her throat again, blocking the artery flow. She gasps, automatically standing on her tiptoes in a feeble attempt to get away.

"Don't play games with me, Pet." Tom spits, moving Amaris backward and slips around her front. His eyes a dilated, blown full of lust. "You know how I hate games."

"I don't know about that, sir. You seem to like Monopoly." Amaris squeaks as Tom continues to tighten his grip on Amaris's neck. The devious smile she wears proves Tom's point. This was all a game to her. He growls in her ear before gently pushing her back as he removes his hand. Amaris watches Tom walk around the counter and take a seat, staring at her expectantly.

"Well?" Tom asks, raising an eyebrow at her. Amaris raises an eyebrow back as well. "I thought you were making breakfast, Mari," He prompts, pulling out his phone like he wasn't just whispering dirty things in her ear.

"You're an absolute ass, Tom." Amaris mumbles, going back to cooking eggs. Tom hums behind her as she moves about the kitchen, purposely swaying her hips to keep his attention. The heartbeat between her legs is begging to be relived, slowly taking over her entire thought process.

She sits next to Tom, huffing in annoyance as she stabs at her eggs. Tom chuckles and sets a hand on her knee. "Remove your hand if you're not going to do shit, Thomas." Amaris bites, shaking Tom's hand off her knee. He leans in, smirking as his lips graze over the shell of her ear.

"What do you want me to do, Pet? Fuck you over this counter like the fucking slut you are?" Amaris's eyes flutter close as Tom continues his filthy questions, slowly tracing along her pulse point in her neck. "Do you want me to fuck that smart ass mouth of yours until the only thing coming out of it are those desperate fucking moans only I can cause? Or do you want me to tie you down and make you cum so many times you forget any other words besides sir?"

Amaris whines as Tom's hand grasp her neck once again. "Answer me, Pet," Tom hisses, gripping harder, pulling another pathetic cry from his mistress.

"Yes," She pleads, not caring which scenario Tom picks. "Please just do something, Tom," Amaris begs, moving her head to look at Tom. He smiles wickedly, enjoying the sound of Amaris begging. It sends blood rushing into his cock with every whine and plea leaving those beautiful, soft, pink lips.

Tom shuts Amaris up with a harsh kiss, pulling her out of her chair. She moans into the kiss while Tom removes his hand from her neck. He rests both on her hips, picking her up and setting her on the counter. "You're such a fucking slut for me, huh, Pet?" Tom asks, migrating his lips down her neck again. His hands slip under her shirt, assaulting her breasts again.

Amaris throws her head back as Tom continues to touch her. "Fucking hell, Tom. Just fuck me." Amaris begs, pulling Tom's face up to kiss him. Tom pulls away, hand finding its home on her neck again.

"Ah ah, Pet," Tom warns, causing her to hum. "What's my name again?" A part of Amaris wants to tease him, to see how much trouble she could get in, while the other wants him to give her exactly what she wants right now.

"Thomas," Amaris brats, smiling as Tom tightens his hand around her throat. She could die happy as long as Tom had his hands on her. He growls and pushes her legs apart, resting his free hand on top of her heat. Amaris can't help but moan; even the lightest touch makes her horny beyond belief. "Thomas, please," She continues to beg while simultaneously causing Tom's temper to flare.

"Say that name one more fucking time, Pet, and you'll regret it," Tom warns again. Amaris whines as Tom removes both his hands. A harsh slap sends Amaris's head to the side, shocked that Tom would be so aggressive but loving every second of it. They stand in silence, watching for any negative reaction. When Amaris smiles, Tom knows she's enjoying the roughness. "What's my fucking name, Pet?" He spits, holding Amaris's face in one hand, staring her down.

The animalistic look in Tom's eyes causes Amaris to whine pitifully. "Sir," Amaris admits. She's dying to have Tom touch her at this point. Her entire body vibrates with the frustration and tension he's causing. "Please, Sir. I need something. I'll do anything. Please," She begs. Tom groans at the heavenly sound.

"Have I ever told you how much your begging makes my cock throb, Pet?" Tom guides her hand to his cock, which pulses at the contact. "You make me so fucking horny," Tom groans, rutting his clothed cock into her hand. Amaris enjoys the little power she has over Tom at this moment, relishing in his delicate moans. "Fuck, Pet. Strip, now." He orders, already pulling his pajamas off.

Amaris giggles and slips out of her top slowly, watching as Tom eyes her up and down, like prey he was ready to devour. Her pants slowly follow, growing Tom's impatience. When her waistband reaches her knees, Tom huffs and finishes pulling them off. "Impatient, are we, Sir?" Amaris giggles.

"Shut up and get on your knees, Pet." Amaris follows her orders quickly, enjoying this dominant version of Tom. "God, you look so fucking perfect down there for me. What a good fucking girl for me, huh?" Amaris whines, staring up at Tom with wide, innocent eyes. She opens her mouth without prompt and lays her tongue flat. Tom draws out a curse word at the sight below him. She looked nothing less than perfect with her mouth open, tits free and perky.

No matter how often Tom's cock is in her mouth, she never gets used to his size. She gags and drools over the shafts as Tom fucks himself in her mouth. "I love those god damn noises you make, just for me. All for me." He thrusts with each syllable. "What a good fucking slut. My slut, aren't you, Pet?"

Amaris whines, confirming Tom's filthy words. "Get up," He orders, pulling her up to her feet. "Bend over," He continues, pushing her around anyway. "What a good girl," He praises, rubbing her ass before landing a harsh slap. The moan that rips out of Amaris encourages Tom to repeat his actions. "What do you want, Pet?" He asks, continuing his assault.

"I want you to fuck me, please, Sir." As much as Tom loves hearing the woman moan and beg for him, he couldn't hold back much longer.

Both adults moan as Tom pushes inside her. Amaris rests her head on the cold marble counter, breathing heavily as Tom sets a slow pace. "Please, Sir, harder." She begs. Tom grips her hair and pulls her head up as he picks up his pace into something borderline brutal.

"You make me feel so fucking good, Pet. Fucking perfect," Tom moans, feeling Amaris's walls clench around his throbbing cock. Amaris can barely breathe, let alone moan at Tom's filthy words.

The heat growing inside Amaris's gut was quick, nearly splitting her open at the seams. She barely croaks out her predicament. Tom reaches around and rubs perfect circles along her clit. "You gonna cum for me, Pet?" Amaris nods pathetically. "Cum around my cock like a good girl," Tom orders, pulling another whine from Amaris. After only a few more strokes, Amaris cums around Tom's cock, yelling as she starts to see stars. Tom continues to praise her, working her through her intense orgasm.

Tom follows after, cumming deep inside Amaris, groaning loudly at his own release. They stand there a minute longer, catching their breath as Tom slowly softens inside Amaris. "That never gets boring," Tom comments with a soft laugh.

"You got that right," Amaris jokes back as they slowly pick up their clothes, Amaris's legs shaking slightly. She doesn't miss the satisfied smirk that graces Tom's lips.

This was where Amaris wanted to be for the rest of her life, but after the notification from Shane Co., she knew this isn't where she's going to spend it.

Taglist: @queenofallhobos @kingtwhiddleston @cynic-spirit @end-up-well @xoxabs88xox @k-reads7

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agentwhiskeysdarlin · 3 years

Text

Overdure Rendezvous

Pairing: Jack Whiskey Daniels x f!reader

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: this is so smutty, fingering, Jack’s filthy mouth, um I honestly don’t know what else its just so smutty

Word Count: 1,826

Author’s Notes: Well it’s been since February since I wrote and this just happened the other night after me and @clint-aww-no-barton went to several rare and used bookstores. If you have stuck around and waited for new works from me thank you so much. I really hope that there will be more to come soon. If you are new welcome and I hope you enjoy! If you want to be tagged please let me know! If you are tagged and you don’t want to be tagged anymore please let me know.

ao3 link for story

The Statesman library was an impressive place with beautiful books. They stretched from books about every kind of gun to the history of the cowboy hat and it was pretty much your home away from home. Your parents had both been Statesman so you grew up in the life of super cool agent parents and when they met their fate in the field Champ became your new caregiver. As soon as you were old enough Champ made you the librarian at Statesman HQ and you couldn’t be happier.

You sat now, having just finished with your lunch and popped open your current book when the door opened. It had been a very quiet day so you were a little surprised by a visit from an agent. You couldn’t hide the blush on your cheeks when you saw who it was even if you tried. Jack Daniels or as everyone around here knew him, Agent Whiskey. He strutted in in his typical suite and cowboy hat, his signature look topped off with a smirk that could wet any girls panties in a heartbeat, including your own. Jack was a senior agent and earned the title rightfully so. He was damn good at what he did. He had fought along side your parents and even had dinner at your home many times. The crush started early and fast sticking around even now. The fact that was he older never seemed to bother you and you being younger never bothered him either.

“How are you today darlin’?” He gave you a tip of his hat before leaning slightly over the desk giving you a once over.

“I’m well today Jack. I thought you were still in New York?” You glanced up at his whiskey colored eyes (ironic huh) and gave him a flirty smile.

“I finished my work up there and decided to come home. Nothing was going on so I thought I’d come visit my favorite girl.”

You couldn’t help the blush that crept back up at his comment. He had called you that for a while and half of the agents had no idea why the two of you didn’t just get on with it already.

“Well all the same here. Just staring at books all day.”

“You know I think I need to brush up on some things. Hmmm let’s see how about rifles. You want to show me where the books about those are sugar?”

You squinted at him wondering at what he was playing at. This was the last man that needed to brush up on anything that had to do with a gun.

“Now Jack if I remember correctly you can take every kind of gun apart and put it back together without looking at any kind of instructions,” you gave him an eyebrow raise but it only made his smirk turn into that beautiful smile of his.

“Come on darlin’ entertain me alright?” His voice had dropped just a little and there was a slight demand to them.

You rose from your spot smoothing out the dress you had decided to wear today. You swore you saw the man lick his lips when you started to walk to the section he had requested. You also swore you heard the lock turn as you walked by the front door and started up the stairs. You tried not to think too hard but your mind was wondering and you couldn’t help but to sway your hips just a little more than usual knowing your backend was right in Jack’s face. You started down the main aisle until you hit the back where the section of guns were.

“Right there is every book on rifles. Old ones new ones just...” and then you were cut off.

Jack had you slammed against the bookshelf, your hands pinned above your head and his face inches from yours all before you knew what had happened. Your heartbeat was hammering and you knew he could hear it and your breathing picked up causing your chest to heave just enough to catch Jack’s attention for a few moments.

“Do you know how long I’ve wanted this? I know you want it too darlin’, swinging those hips for me when we were going up the stairs. Such a little tease. I was going to go easy on you but after that I don’t think I will,” the last few words came out as growls before his lips were on yours.

It was the most intoxicating and wonderful feeling you had ever felt. You had been with your fair share of men and kissed a lot but not a single person held a match to Jack. His lips made you forget the world around you and you wondered if he was about to make you forget about the entire universe and make him the only thing in your life. It took you a few shocking moments to start kissing him back with a hunger that had been buried inside of you for this man. You felt one of his hands move snaking down the side of your body before stopping and he pulled away. The both of you stared at each other for a moment, panting and lips swollen.

“I need you to tell me you want this and that this is okay,” Jack’s tone was very serious and his eyes grabbed yours.

“I want this Jack please,” your voice was a torn and shattered whisper, desperate to finally have him.

He didn’t even speak another word just smirked before his lips crashed back to yours. He kept one hand firmly locked on your wrists keeping them skillfully pinned to the books above your head. His other hand snuck around and grabbed at your breast over your dress and bra causing you to let out a soft whimper against his lips. He pulled away from you his hat inches from your forehead, his eyes starting daggers of lust into you.

“Come on darlin’ I know you can be louder than that.”

“Well we are in a library,” you let out a soft chuckle and Jack took the challenge.

He didn’t even bother with being slow he let his hand go up under your dress, jerked your panties down in one swift motion and started to circle your clit furiously. The moans you let you were almost animalistic and your head fell back on the books behind you. Jack didn’t stay there long, just enough to get you wet enough for him to skillfully push two fingers inside of you pulling a noise from you that you didn’t even know you could make.

“There you go darlin’,” he smirked again as he fingered you picking up his pace.

He leaned against you keeping you from sinking as you so badly felt like doing. You were at his mercy, putty in his hands just the way you had wanted for so damn long.

“Jack please I want you,” you whimpered in desperation forcing your eyes to look at him no matter how badly they wanted to stay screwed shut in pleasure.

“You may need to be more specific with your request sugar cause you already got me.”

“Jack please I want your cock,” you almost whined at him and you could care less that you did.

“Now that’s better.”

He removed his fingers before skillfully undoing his belt and pulling his cock our with one hand. He finally dropped his other one and picked you up slightly so you could wrap your legs around him. He gave you no warning before he was stretching you so perfectly and deliciously that it sent chills over your entire body. Your head fell back and you were unable to even make a sound as he slid all the way to the hilt and paused letting you adjust. He didn’t sit long before he jerked almost all the way out and then snapped his hips plunging deep into you once again. His pace was slow but hard and he was pulling the most wonderful noises from you.

“Faster Jack please,” your fingers had already found their way into his hair knocking his hat off.

“My pleasure darlin’”

He picked up his pace snapping into you faster and harder. You were completely lost in the man and the pleasure he was causing you. You couldn’t care less that books were falling everywhere around you and that you would have a mess to clean up after. Nothing mattered but Jack. You were getting closer and closer and the moans that were falling from his lips were telling you that he was too but Jack was a gentleman.

“Alight sugar ladies first,”’he held you up against the bookshelf and pulled one arm around to finger at your clit again.

“Cum for me darlin’,” he whispered the words in your ear and on the command you fell apart around him.

The best orgasm you had ever had ripped through you and Jack was soon following. The two of you were a mess of moans and limbs. Your head fell to his shoulder panting and breathing in his scent and he held you there slowly pumping inside of you to ease you down from your high. His hand came to you cheek and raised your head up to look at him.

“You alright?”

“I’m perfect,�� you breathed with a smile.

Jack couldn’t help but to smile back at you so beautiful and the best kind of broken there in his arms. A sight he had waited a long time to see. He slowly removed him self from you both of you hissing at the loss of contact and then slowly came back down to the floor. You stumbled slightly and he caught you before the both of you laughed. You looked around at the books that scattered the floor and your laughter only grew louder.

“Well agent I hope you are all brushed up on your rifles now,” you gave him a smirk.

Jack picked up your panties and when you went to grab them he pulled them away before putting them in his pocket.

“Oh yes I think I know my rifles inside and out now,” the wink he gave you melted you all over again.

He started to walk away from you and you let out scoff. He picked up his hat and placed it on his head.

“Um Jack could I have my missing item of clothing back please?”

“You want them back you report to my office after your shift,” he gave you one last smirk before he strutted off down the hallway and out the door.

You stood there like a girl who was just noticed by her crush for the first time, smiling like an idiot and slightly laughing at yourself before you started to clean up the wonderful mess the two of you had made hoping there was another to make in his office later.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl @arcadianempress @discogrrl @immundusspiritu @someplace-darker @thisis-theway @ohpedromypedros-main @scribbledghost @on-the-razor-crest @fioccodineveautunnale @spookyold-saintjm @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @princess-and-pedro @phoenixhalliwell @littlevodka @all-hallows-evie @mack4676 @prettyboyskywalker

#jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey #agent whiskey fic #agent whiskey x reader #agent whiskey smut #jack whiskey daniels x reader #jack whiskey daniels fic #pedro pascal

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anastasiaskarsgard · 4 years

Text

My whore

Warning: cursing, sex, adult content 18+

I should edit this, but I will later maybe. Just busted this out at lunch for no fun

As she pulled her hood up even more, and briskly walked down the familiar street, she could hear her heart pounding in her chest. Her stomach did a somersault as soon as she she spotted the lone figure standing outside the dimly-lit liquor store. She knew better, she really did. You play with fire, you’re bound to get burnt eventually, but try as she might to practice self preservation, she just hadn’t a care when it came to him. It was a well-known fact that he was someone dangerous and she felt the most scandalous rush whenever she was near him.

She gracefully made her way to his side, briefly knitting her brows together in self-loathing for being unable to just walk on by or ignore him.

"What do you want?" The man moved closer watching her with a cold sneer on his handsome face as he studied her changing expressions. He was absolutely fascinated by how expressive her face was. The way she smirked and you could see the hint of a dimple, or how her eyes narrowed into slits when she tried to control herself from telling him off. How her full lips drew together in a bow when she was determined, or if she felt particularly brazen, she’d cock a single eyebrow and grin like a cat.

Being who he was, his facial expressions ranged from various levels of boredom, to every level of rage. Hatred and apathy was all he’d ever really felt, except when he was around this girl. As the corners of his mouth nearly twitched into a smile, he grabbed her hand, forcing her close to his body, chests touching, thrilling at the stunned look on her face.

"You know what I want princess?” His lips found her ear, fangs nipping at the lobe, hyper aware of her dainty hands clutching his shirt, her breathing growing more erratic by the second, and her icy blue eyes scanning his face, searching for his intent.

"Please Roman....." She pleaded.

His hands brushed over an area she never let anyone else touch, moaning in spite of herself. When his fingers took hold of a swollen nipple and tugged at it viciously, she had to bite her lip, to stop herself from screaming aloud. Her knees shook and she tightened her grip on his shirt, scared if she let go she’d fall. She cursed herself for always turning to silly putty in his hands so easily, but she couldn’t help it. He was intoxicating.

Roman scratched his nails down the taut flesh muffling her sweet mouth with his own. Inhumanly sensitive ears, and Jade green eyes became aware of a few of her friends moving their way, and before she noticed them, (or them her) he dragged her down a nearby alley, walking swiftly with purpose in hopes they hadn’t been discovered.

It was no surprise that her friends weren’t fans of his. He’d beaten up the males of the little posse, after they’d tried to confront him for filming himself fucking their girlfriends and posting it a snippet on his Instagram story when he was high. He hadn’t even remembered he’d done it, until they marched up and shoved a phone in his face, and he could understand why laughing and commenting on one of the girls o face, could be seen as a dick move. The rest of the girls in her circle of friends would drop to their knees and service him if he so much as glanced their way, but he had been far too distracted by the girl he was currently dragging behind him to care.

"Where are we - what are we doing?" The breathless girl inquired, as he continued forward like he knew where this lead. Her eyesight needed time to adjust, so she was still practically blind.

"Why do you sound so scared princess? You came and found me." He came to a small alcove and He pushed her firmly against the wall, hands going to her waist, lips finding their way to her neck.

"I had to twist your arm too." She whispered sarcastically, feeling his hands slip under her shirt rubbing, caressing and fondling her breasts. She bit her swollen bottom lip, silencing the moan which threatened to escape. Her own hands seeking out his skin, desperate for the closeness and intimacy found with skin on skin contact. She shuddered with anticipation as she raked her fingernails down his chest, feeling his muscles jerk under her touch. She moaned wantonly as her shirt was pushed up, exposing her to the night air, before her nipple was engulfed by a warm, wet mouth and she gripped his head pressing him closer to her.

Her sudden intake of air, made him look Out of the corner of his eye to be sure the immediate area was free of any sudden movements. Finding none, Roman smirked allowing his eyes to wander back to the half naked beauty before him. Pushing her skirt up, he pulled her panties to the side, sinking two fingers into her aroused body, driving then in a series of quick, hard movements, mouth covering hers when her sounds rose in pitch. Feeling an almost desperate need to be inside her, he Freed himself from his slacks, pressed up against her body, lifting her legs to straddle his waist and pushed his length deep inside of her core. He couldn’t get over how tight her sheath was every time, even though he had worked her over several times with his impressive manhood. Doesn’t mean he ever went easy on her, if anything it made him pound into her that much harder. He wanted to ruin her for any other man. The thought of someone else inside his princess made him see red.

Just the thought of someone else tasting her had His mouth possessively taking hers, in a wild, untamed passion rendering the girl practically breathless. All she could do was hang on, as he fucked her senseless like a man possessed or a demon. She felt fire course through her veins, igniting suppressed emotions, spiralling her to a pleasurable Eutopia of her own creation. Coherent, logical thoughts were lost and she surrendered her mind to the unlikely possibility that this was all there was. Her and him forever.

Just when she thought he couldn’t possibly fuck her any harder, he grabbed her by the shoulders and fucked up into her savagely, almost bruising as he delved deeper. She didn’t know why his rough animalistic behavior aroused her beyond anything so violent ever should, but it quickly brought her to climax, engulfing her in flames, limbs locking around him as she bit into his shoulder, sending a tingle of ecstasy down her spine, as she felt him spill inside of her, stuttering his hips to a stop. He pressed his forehead to hers and opened his eyes to stare into hers, before closing them and kissing her passionately.

"Roman,” She murmured, as they paused for air, dragging them both back into reality. Finally regaining the strength she had lost in their frenzied sexual escapades, attempted to push her partner away. He hesitantly relented, giving her enough space to stand. Legs trembling slightly, she adjusted her clothes, back bracing against the wall and head still dizzy from his presense. Muscular arms wound around her waist and she stood perfectly still as he pulled her close again, and his breath feathered across her cheek.

"Eager to escape me princess?" He purred, mockery making it's way into his voice and she damned him for so damn attractive. Not that he wasn’t gorgeous to look at, but it went beyond his heart throb, movie star looks or tall statuesque form. He had a Raw, primitive sexuality that cant be described in words, but was painfully obvious, that made him beyond desirable.

"I don’t know why I let you do this to me. I’ve got your cum running down my leg and I'm supposed to meet my friends fifteen minutes ago."

"Don't lie to me." He hissed, turning her to face him, thumb and forefinger capturing her defiant chin increasing the pressure when she tried to look away. "Tell me you enjoyed what we just did."

"I didn't." She bit out defiantly, the fire in her eyes growing stronger, fed by his arrogant attitude. "In fact I hated it."

His amused laughter infuriated her even further, and she had to use every ounce of willpower not to scream in frustration.

"That's what I like about you,” His green eyes gleaming darkly. "Always resisting me. It makes complete and total possession of your body that much more sweet."

"A possession? Is that what I am to you?" She shrieked, striking him in the chest, trying to break free of his embrace. This only made him bring her body closer, pressing his renewed arousal against her in an unmistakable way. Lips skimming her cheek, and throat, hands touching her everywhere as she squirmed in his grasp.

"Does this bother you?" He whispered eyes locking with hers, mouths so close they could feel each others breath.

"Yes." She whispered, willing herself the strength to resist him.

"You sure seemed like you liked it when I fucked you, out in the open, in a dirty alleyway like a fucking whore.” His words pierced her heart like a dagger had been laced with them, and in a burst of strength, she threw him off of her, and she stormed down the alleyway. Certain this was how Roman Godfrey, discarded his toys, she let out a yelp when she was grabbed from behind and spun around. Aggressively seizing her in his hold as she thrashed, he bent and whispered in her ear, “I love how you fight me...” before claiming her mouth with his own. The kiss sent a shiver down her spine, causing her traitorous body to move closer to him, practically begging and pleading for more contact. Her long-fingers raked through his chestnut hair gripping the strands firmly, tugging in a confused attempt to hurt and arouse.

A wanton moan was heard and she found herself pinned against the wall again. Their movements desperate and uncharacteristically sloppy. Emotions running wild, not wanting to acknowledge they were already in over their heads. That this was more than just sex, there were true emotions underneath it all, and it was terrifying. No one in their right mind loved a man like him, and no girl could possibly love him ran through their chaotic thoughts as the alarms went off, but neither heeded the call. Pleasure that could be described as unimaginable pain flowed through them, pushing all their insecurities down and finding them lost in each other once again. Their ragged breathing was the only sounds heard and they kissed sweat drenched faces absentmindedly. His low chuckle garnered her attention and she looked at him curiously.

Feeling his member once again free, and pressing deliciously close to her entrance again, she shifted to make access easier.

"Tell me you enjoy this. Tell me you like us." He smirked, eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability that was gone so quick, she wasn’t sure she saw it.

“Or what? You won’t fuck me again?” She asked cocking her eyebrow, and grinning up at him.

“You love it.”

"What if in fact I hated it?"

"You didn't." He proclaimed confidently.

She wished with all her might that he was wrong, but he was right. She loved their fucked up little arrangement. “I don’t love being called a whore.”

“How about just my whore? Only my whore? Hmmm?” He asked, eyes flashing darkly.

“You’re such an asshole.”

“But I’m your asshole.”

“My asshole.” She giggled.

“My whore.” He growled as he thrust up inside of her.

#bill skarsgard smut #roman godfrey smut #roman godfrey #bill skarsgard drabble #bill skarsgard #my writing

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just-a-creep-babe · 4 years

Text

Kinktober Day 4

Jeff the Killer: Hate Fucking & Against a Wall

~Requests are closed~

Masterlist: x

Any tips are greatly appreciated!

It’s been a shitty week

You failed not only one but two missions, managed to make a nice big crack down the front of your phone, and to top it off, you haven’t slept with anyone in way too long and you‘re horribly sexually frustrated

The good thing is that the week‘s finally over, and you have the weekend to recuperate—and until then, a training session could help blow off some steam

So as you make your way down the twisting corridors of the mansion’s basement, your thoughts begin to wander

You end up so caught up in your own head that you don’t notice someone’s footsteps catching up to you

You don’t pay it much mind until a knife is suddenly lodged into the wall next to you, just inches from your face

And you swear to god, your blood boils knowing who’s responsible on the other end

“Just what the fuck is your problem?” you spit, eyes narrowing at the raven haired killer now blocking your path

“Don’t fuckin’ play stupid. You think it’s funny to be a snitch? Hm?”

He doesn’t leave you much time to react as he slams his hands either side of you, forcing you between a rock and a hard place

“Slender’s not letting me kill for the next two fucking weeks because you can’t keep your little fucking mouth shut” he continues, jagged lips curling into a snarl

You ball your fists at your sides, already feeling the anger burning in your system

“Listen, fuckface,” you hiss “Stop trying to pin your problems down on me. I didn’t tell shit—and you’re nowhere near worth that kind of effort anyways. Maybe try getting a fucking grip for once in your goddamn life”

You shove him off as hard as you can, knowing he wouldn't move otherwise

The effort is enough to have him stumbling back before he catches himself, and if looks could kill, his obsidian glare would’ve been more than enough to do you in just about now

But before he can open his mouth again, you spin on your heels and walk away as fast as you can, hoping he’ll get the hint that now really isn’t the time

Yet, of course, he doesn’t let you escape

His hand yanks at your shoulder as he turns you back to face him, all but slamming you into the wall again so he‘s caging you in

“Don’t you fucking try to run from me,” he sneers “And cut the fucking bullshit for once—we both know damn well you’re more into me than you let on”

Your face burns with anger—or maybe it’s a mix of shame and humiliation

“As if. Your head’s too far up your own ass to realize no one could ever like a crispy, edgy rat’s ass crouton dick of a—“

He doesn’t let you finish before gripping your jaw, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips up to meet his

His mouth is rough and scarred and tastes of blood with the faintest trace of alcohol

Your brows furrow, face scrunching up, though it admittedly takes you a moment before you shove him off of you

Part of you twinges in regret for not biting him instead

He catches his balance for the second time today and licks his lips, and there’s a wonderfully dark and dangerous look in his eyes that has your stomach doing flips

“God, I fucking hate you” you mutter

And then you’re grabbing his hoodie and pulling him back down again

His teeth clash against yours as he forces your lips to part, cramming his tongue down your throat and making you gasp around it

He shoves you harder against the wall, trapping you beneath his warm, strong build to ravage your mouth as roughly as he likes—leaving you breathless and your thoughts swimming, wholly and utterly consumed by him

A pathetic sound is muffled by him at the back of your throat, and then you’re moving your hands down to his pants, wanting to free him so that he can just fuck you up already

You hate yourself for sinking so low, but you might actually implode if you don’t get dicked down soon

“See? Fucking knew you were desperate for my cock”

It takes every ounce of willpower you have not to punch him in his stupid face

“Will you just shut up for once in your goddamn life and—“

He cuts you off by clamping his teeth down on your neck—hard—and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out for him

“You’re way too fucking cocky for your own good” he threatens

His hands practically rip at your pants, shoving them down to your ankles before doing the same to your panties

Except that your underwear actually do tear in half, and before you can complain, he’s shoving the fabric into his back pocket, picking you up by your thighs, and slamming you back against the wall so that all that’s supporting you are your legs hooked around his waist

“You fucking prick!” you seethe

“Keep whining and I’ll fuck you so hard you won’t be able to speak when I’m done with you”

A hard smack to your ass has you biting back a cuss, and you’ve never wanted to wipe someone’s stupid self-satisfied smirk off more than you do now

“Bratty slut”

He grounds himself between your legs, rocking into you so you can feel his cock twitch and strain through the coarse material of his jeans

The denim presses harshly into your folds, and it has you rubbing yourself harder into him, clenching your jaw so he can’t hear you whining for more

Any other time, you’d be downright embarrassed at the way you’re soaking the front of his pants

But you really couldn’t give less of a shit about his clothes right now, especially after he ruined your underwear

“Jeff, will you fucking just—“

You cut yourself off with a gasp as he slams his hips against you, right into your poor, throbbing little clit

Jolts of arousal spike up your body, making your thighs tighten around him and he grunts at the feeling

“What’s that, little slut?”

You want him

You want him to ruin you before he has you cuming just by grinding against him and it gives him something to make fun of you for

But you’ll be damned if you end up begging for it

“I’m gonna change my fucking mind about this if you don’t fuck me properly right fucking now” you hiss

He scoffs, though you feel him shift to tug himself free

“As if. Stop acting so fucking high and mighty like you don’t want this”

He presses the tip flush to your entrance and you’re already clenching for him

“I’ll fucking enjoy putting you in your place, (y/n)”

One slow, unwavering push of his hips and he’s spreading your walls, his thick length brushing over your most sensitive nerves, sending delightful shivers up your body and coaxing sickly sweet moans from your lips

“You fucking like that, don’t you? You want someone to take you down a peg and treat you like the slut you are, huh?”

“God—j-just shut the fuck up!”

He gives a few short thrusts but alas, patience not being his virtue, it isn’t long before he’s ramming himself into you over and over again

His thrusts are rhythmic and hard and unbearably deep, and they have your cunt making the most obscene noises because of how absolutely drenched you are for him

He’s like a wall of muscle—hard and strong and wonderfully firm as he drags his cock from your cunt before pounding all the way back into you

It takes every ounce of restraint you have not to mewl shamelessly for him like you know he wants you to

Instead, you rake your fingers down his hoodie, and it has him growling into your ear as he works himself in and out your tight, slick heat

Your muffled cries only spur him on to screw you faster and harder until your head’s falling back against the wall and you’re practically seeing stars

Your walls clench tightly—a loud, unrestrained moan slipping from your lips despite your best efforts to quiet it

He grunts, caught up in the euphoria, and roughly thrusts himself into you a few more times until you’re just teetering on the brink of your climax

You whine his name, your breath hitching, adrenaline pumping through your system as a thick knot coils in your gut

“You close, (y/n)? Hm? Little slut gonna cum all over my dick already?”

“F-fuck—yes!~” you gasp

He hits a spot inside of you that has you tensing around him, and all at once, your climax crashes into you in relentless waves of euphoria

Your legs tighten, thighs shuddering around him but he still doesn’t stop, pumping into you until his thrusts dissolve into something sloppy and borderline animalistic

And then he twitches against your clenching walls and cusses, pressing himself as deep as he can so you can feel him releasing his cum deep inside you

His breath is warm and ragged against your neck as he stills inside you, only barely grinding into you while catching his breath

Your body feels like it’s on fire

When he eventually pulls out, you can’t help but flinch, feeling all kinds of pleasantly numb and overstimulated

But for the sake of your own pride, you order your legs not to give out as he sets you back down

“Meet me in the showers when you’re done training” he grunts as he zips himself back up

You snort

“You? Shower? Don’t make me laugh”

The afterglow of your orgasm has a grin tugging at your lips as he flips you off when he walks away

#creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #jeff the killer x reader smut #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer #kinktober #creepypasta kinktober #creepypasta jeff the killer

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andreafmn · 3 years

Text

Keeping Secrets - One Shot

Word Count: 2,559

Description: (Y/N) and Hotch have been keeping their relationship under tight wraps, not wanting the team to be involved in their personal business. But too many glances and oddly timed touches make the truth come out before they can say anything.

Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY), oral female and male receiving, unprotected sex, mild choking, insemination, foul language

A/N: I'll be back to updating the current stories next week. Thankfully, I'm feeling much better 😊

TikTok • Instagram • Business

***

It had been a long week in Seattle working on a case and all of us were exhausted. We had about six hours until we were back home and resting in our beds… or engaging in other types of physical activities. Currently, Aaron and I were doing paperwork sat across a sleeping JJ and Emily; listening to a game of chess happening behind them between Reid and Rossi, and the soft snores of the laid-out Derek.

"So, are you coming over when we land?" Hotch whispered as he pretended to be showing me something he had written down, a beige folder shielding our faces from view.

"I don't know. We can also go to my place," I smirked. “If you want.”

"You know I always do," he smiled. Our hands started inching towards each other between the papers sprawled out on the table in front of us.

"Ugh, how much longer!" Emily yawned, her arms shooting up in a stretch. Aaron and I got startled, and settled back into our chair, the touch of Aaron's fingers rapidly becoming ghostly. It's not that we didn't trust our team but we wanted to remain a secret for as long as we could. We weren't sure if the groggy agent in front of us had seen anything, so we stayed at an arms-length until we were back in the bullpen.

"Heading out, (Y/N)?" Morgan asked as he slung his bag over his shoulder.

"I still have some paperwork to finish up. I think I'm gonna stay late to finish up," I said. Once Reid, the last member in the office, left, I headed straight to Hotch's office.

I softly knocked on the door and waited for approval to enter the closed room. Many a late-night had we spent inside these four walls, involved in activities not safe for watching in the workspace. Hotch's head was lowered and buried in a pile of papers. I cleared my throat and his head shot up, a sinful grin dancing on his lips.

"Finished all the paperwork for the case," I smiled. “Just need your signature.”

"Good. Lock the door," he commanded. As I locked the door and closed the blinds, he started clearing the desk. "Now, come here."

I quickly abided by his instruction, standing between his legs, looking up as he towered over me. "What do you want me to do, sir?"

"Someone's excited right now,'' he teased. “Couldn’t wait until we got home?”

I shook my head and we laughed as he lowered his head and crashed his lips onto mine. It was rough and hungry at first, quickly shifting into slow and passionate before we came up for air. We stared at each other's eyes before ravishing once more in an intense kiss. His lips started to travel down to my neck, lingering for the right amount of time in certain spots.

"Be careful not to leave exposed marks,'' I giggled. "Don't want people asking questions, right?"

"It looks like you might have to wear a turtleneck tomorrow," he mumbled, his lips only hovering over my skin to let the words out.

"Agent Hotchner, I'm not playing."

"I am," he said hungrily. Ever since our relationship had started, my wardrobe had changed a bit, too many turtlenecks. Aaron enjoyed leaving exposed marks on my skin, loving the thrill of possibly exposing our relationship.

His hands started working the buttons of my shirt as his mouth kept ravishing my exposed skin. My hands joined his in action and started unbuttoning his shirt, running them over his chest to remove the cloth denying our bodies to get closer. Both our shirts got piled in a corner, the rest of our clothes joining soon after.

"You are absolutely stunning, (Y/N)."

"You're not so bad yourself, sir."

"Now enough playing around. On the desk,'' he commanded in the authoritarian tone that always made my knees week and puddle to form in my downstairs. "Look how wet you are, kitten. Have you been waiting long?"

"Ever since we got into that airplane I've been imagining what you would do when we hit ground." He grinned devilishly as he lowered himself and peeled my legs at an agonizingly slow pace. His fingers tickled my skin leaving indents in my thighs’ flesh. “Aaron, please.”

“Tell me what you want, darling, and I’ll do it.”

“Make me scream,” I whispered.

He grinned once more at me and dove to devour the aching mound before him. His mouth encircled it and his tongue teased my clit, the feeling reverberating through my whole body. My body squirmed and my hands flew to his hair, tugging every time electricity coursed through my body. My right hand was free and landed on my right breast, massaging the flesh to add to the ecstasy of the moment. The moans that erupted from my throat only worked to enliven his movements.

Soon enough, Hotchner’s tongue was aided by two of his fingers, plunging into me without mercy. A scream left my mouth, letting Aaron know the gleeful energy that was coursing through me. He chuckled against me, the vibrations rushing through the already swollen clit. His fingers plunged in and out at a punishing pace, and I could feel myself already clenching around him.

“Already, ready to cum, darling? Were you really that aroused?” I nodded. The only sounds that were leaving my mouth were moans and whines of pleasure. “I need you to answer me, (Y/N), or I’ll stop right now.”

“Mm... S-Sir... I was, mm, fucking on fire,” I breathed out. The answer was what he needed to send me over the edge. “FUCK!”

My chest heaved up and down as I stabilized it, feeling Aaron’s tongue press flag against my entrance, cleaning the area of all the juices that had sprouted. “You always taste so good, (Y/N).”

He stood up and towered over me, crashing his lips onto mine. I could taste myself on him as our tongues wrestled for dominance. Aaron’s hands gripped my waist and pulled me closer to him. Our bodies pressed together as I wrapped my arms around his neck, making sure no space was left between us. I could feel his erection twitch pressed against me, it was obvious that he was painfully hard at the moment.

As we broke apart from the kiss, I pushed him back onto his office chair. It was my turn to return the favor. My hand traveled down his body and landed on his knees, spreading them apart to allow me to get closer. He hissed when I squeezed the base of his length. At this point, any sort of stimuli would send him over the edge.

I teased the tip by circling my tongue around it and chuckled as he gripped the armchairs whilst letting out guttural moans. “Don’t tease, (Y/N).”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

The real amusement started when I took him halfway into my mouth, humming laughs of pleasure to boost the feeling. I knew I was doing good when he grabbed a hold of my hair and pushed me further down his shaft, stopping at the back of my throat. He allowed me to come up for air as I started gagging, webs of drool being left behind as I wiped the inevitable pooling that had formed around my eyes.

Seconds later, I was switching from bobbing up and down his length, furthering his reach of a climax, to sucking on his crown jewels. An action that had them contracting as he got closer and closer to ecstasy. His nails were now digging into the faux leather fabric of his chair, culmination in sight. As I took his cock out of my mouth, my hands softly stroked the flesh.

"Mm, mm, sir. You don't get to cum just yet," I whispered in his ears. "I want it all inside me."

In a swift motion, his arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me up to tangle my legs around his. As we kissed, he transferred our bodies to the couch that resided in his office. My back made contact with the fabric as Aaron broke the kiss, aligning himself between my open legs. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but it didn’t matter at the moment. It would take far too long to wait until we got to either of our homes.

He stroked the head of his length from my clit to my entrance, teasing and wetting it before he entered. The stimulation had me clawing at his back, needing to feel even more connected to him than I already was.

“You’re such a tease, Aaron.”

“So, you can dish it, but you can’t take it?” He laughed. “Alright, because you did so good a while back, I’ll reward you.”

“Good,” I smiled.

He bent down to lay one more kiss on my lips before plunging deep into me. My breath hitched in my throat as I felt him inside me. There was no doubt that he was physically endowed, and my body always needed time to adjust to his size. But this time he didn’t wait, and he thrust at a punishing pace into my clenched orifice. We both wanted to feel each other as close as humanly possible, to become one in the best way we knew how.

Our bodies were sweaty, and our breath was staggered, moving at the same pace as Aaron’s thrusts. His back was marked by my fingernails and my neck was marked by his mouth. He pushed in and out of me at a rapid rhythm, hitting the right spot every time. My already wet insides were already pooling once again.

“Aaron, I’m s-so close,” I breathed out. “Don’t s-stop.”

“I wasn’t planning on it, darling.”

This lit a fire in Aaron, and he started thrusting harder than I thought possible. His free hand landed on my neck, his thumb in my mouth, the pressure only arousing us further. The whimpers and the moans that escaped my mouth mixed with the groans that Aaron was making, a blend of animalistic sounds that would alarm anyone. I felt myself clenching more and added my hand to the mixture to massage my clit, adding more pleasure to the climax that was arising.

“I don’t want you to hold back, okay?” I nodded. “I want to hear you scream.”

And scream I did. As he plunged deeper and harder, I reached the peak I was searching for, yelling out his name as I exploded around him. The tightness from my own body helping him reach his own climax, where he pushed into me his release. My body arched I felt him emptying himself inside me, his head falling onto the crook of my neck, both almost out of breath, an electric current coursing through our veins. As he exited me, his length was replaced with his fingers, pushing his seed back into me. Not a single drop to be wasted.

We relished in the aftermath, laying together on the couch. He was propped on his elbow, staring down at my face in the dimmed light of his office.

“You know this would have been a lot better if we were in my big bed,” he chuckled.

“You’re the one that came in here all hot and bothered. Couldn’t wait a couple of minutes until I finished some files.” His hand stroked my cheek, inspecting every part of my face. “But neither of us would have made it home. Too much pent-up energy in us.”

“That wouldn’t happen if we just used the no other rooms left and you stopped pairing me up with Spencer for rooming.”

“I thought it would be less inconspicuous.”

“We used to sleep together before we, you know, slept together.”

“Good thing I make the placements then. A quick switch around never hurt anybody.” He bent down and placed a kiss on my lips, a smile playing on both our mouths.

“I could always go for a round two, you know.”

Bait laid.

“You don’t have to ask me twice.”

Prey caught.

We started scavenging for our clothes, putting them on knowing full well that the second we got to my apartment they would be ripped off once again. He packed his briefcase and we headed out of his office, giggling like high school kids.

“Where you two going in such a rush?” A voice stopped us dead in our tracks, draining all the blood from our faces. Pale and shaky we turned around to be met with Emily’s smirking face.

“We’re going home for the night,” Aaron regained his composure. “We were finishing up some paperwork.”

“Okay, let’s say I believe you and let you go on your merry way,” she bargained. “How would you explain the tussled hair, the purple marks? Oh, and (Y/N), you missed a button.”

I looked down and noticed the missed button; I looked up and noticed Aaron’s hair; I touched my neck and felt the tender areas. There was no explaining that.

“So, how long has this been going on? My guess, month and a half to two months?”

“It’s been two months,” I said looking down. The blood that had rushed back depositing itself on my cheeks.

“Alright, pay up, guys.”

From the briefing room came Derek, Spencer, JJ, David, and Penelope, all laughing at their unit chief and teammate. JJ and Spencer went to Emily’s side, and each received a 20-dollar bill from the rest of the team. Not only had we been found out, but the team had known about it long enough to place bets.

“How long have you guys known?” Aaron spoke up, a sigh leaving his lips.

“We started noticing certain behaviors roughly two weeks ago,” Dave answered.

“You guys hid it very well for the first month, we’ll give you that,” JJ interjected. “But you got sloppy.”

“In what way? We always watched our moves in front of you guys.”

“Well, hand placements staying longer than needed; playful stares; overnight workdays; the turtlenecks; not to mention you guys holding hands on the plane whenever you think we aren’t looking,” Spencer mused. “But you could have told us.”

“You know we would have kept your secret,” Derek added.

“And we know that but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“Us being in a relationship is a potential liability to the team. If Strauss found out one or both of us could lose our jobs or be transferred,” Aaron explained. “We didn’t want you guys to have to compromise yourselves with our secret.”

“Oh my gosh! You both know we would never let that happen,” Penelope chimed. “It’s better that we know. Now, we can look out for the both of you.”

“Thanks, guys. We really appreciate it,” I smiled.

The team congratulated us with hugs and excitement, this time before leaving for real. Aaron and I caught a separate elevator, laughing at what had happened. We both knew our relationship wouldn’t have stayed a secret for too long before they found out, but we truly believed we had been doing a better job at hiding it.

“Are you still coming over?” I smiled up at Aaron, being engulfed by his arms. His chin resting on my head.

“It pains me that you have to ask,” he laughed.

It was going to be a long night.

MASTERLIST

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imtryingmybeskar · 3 years

Text

Part 14 of Fugitive. Quite a bit of deviance from what has gone before. Much plot, many darkness.

18+, 12k words.

"Cyar'ika...please..." A cruel smile curved your lips as you heard the Mandalorian's plaintive cries. They soothed your tormented soul like a balm after so many years of being denied. "You cannot do this. Please. Listen to me." The seemingly sourceless orange light splayed across his beskar like an oil slick fire.

You frowned and advanced on him, hissing. "I cannot? You do not tell me what I can and cannot do." As you reached him, he fell to his knees, the T shape of his visor fixed on your face.

"Please do not make me do this, cyar'ika," he begged as you heard the click of his blaster cocking.

"You think you'll...what? Shoot me? Kill me?" your words were icily mocking as you tore the blaster from his grasp and hurled it away without ever laying a finger on it. "You cannot kill me. You cannot harm me. As you say, I am your beloved. You love me." As you spoke you lifted the helmet from his head and dropped it on to the dusty black earth next to him as you looked down into his face. His nose and mouth were leaking blood and his lip was puffy and bruised. "As well you should," you added, bending down to stroke your hand through the hair at the back of his head and grabbing a fistful roughly. You planted a bruising kiss on his mouth and his lip split anew, the iron sweetness of him coating your own lips. His eyes were huge and staring, but his fear was being tempered with anger now. That too was as it should be.

"I love you. Not...this. Whatever this is. This is wrong." Bestowing another smile upon him, you released his hair and brought your hand around to cup his chin instead, speaking so softly and so, so dangerously.

"Wrong, Mand'alor? Are you quite sure about that?"

"I am not the-" But his denial of who he was drowned out by the gasp of pain he emitted as you flooded his mind with images. Of him sitting upon the throne in the royal palace of Mandalore, the Darksaber in one hand and his beskar spear in the other, the very picture of a warrior king. Of a war room filled with Jedi and Mandalorians alike, plotting and strategising their slaughter across the galaxy. Of legions upon legions of fanatical Mandalorians, loyal only to Din and cutting swathes through stormtroopers in a riotous orgy of blood and smoke...At this last you felt his mind rebel and struggle against yours, like a moth battering itself against a lamp. "No...," he managed to spit feebly.

"No?" you asked gently, your voice honeysweet and kindly as you withdrew from his mind and let him get his breath back. "But isn't it a glorious future? You and I working together to rid the galaxy of the vermin that plague it? I know you want to make them pay. For what they did to your child. For making you the Mand'alor in the first place. For Alzoc-" You knew what he was going to do before he did it. So predictable. His hand reached for your throat and closed around it as he stood, but you had already compensated your breathing and the gesture did little except excite you. His limbs were shaking with rage, as well as from his ordeal and you smiled sweetly at him. "You see?" you scraped out, "You do want this. We can set Mandalore aright again. Together. Husband of mine." His hand relaxed its grip a little, but his fingers were still around your neck. He swallowed as if something bitter were trying to force its way up his throat.

"The woman I married would never say such things, never force me to see such things. You are not my riduur." And suddenly his other blaster was in his left hand and pointing directly between your eyes.

You snarled at him, an animalistic noise of purest hatred, "You are weak, Mandalorian. You have betrayed your Creed countless times. And I know that you could never-" Suddenly the world went white, then dark, and you knew nothing more.

***

Seventy two hours earlier

***

"Din, you have to stop!" You were desperately trying not to giggle and encourage his behaviour. "I told you, either I do the ritual here or I go to my room in the Academy alone and do it."

"But mesh'la, how can I concentrate on anything else with you like this?" he said pleadingly as he gathered you into his arms.

"Like what?" you asked innocently, even though you knew perfectly well what. After you had taken shelter in the ship, you had set your robe and clothes to dry and sought out some fresh ones. Apparently you had gotten behind on laundry and had very little that was clean besides underwear, so had asked Din to borrow a spare undershirt and he had obliged. It wasn't often that you wore his clothes, but you loved having the scent of him so close to you all the time. The trouble was that you didn't have any clean spare trousers and now found yourself trying desperately to relax your mind and body when you could almost feel the heat of his gaze as he watched the bottom of his shirt grazing the tops of your thighs. "Would you prefer me naked?" That was the wrong thing to say. Or, possibly the right thing. Apparently the only thing more arousing to Din than you in his clothes was you out of them. He ground his erection against your stomach and kissed you.

"Always prefer you naked," he murmured against your lips.

"Are you going to make a liar out of me?" you asked, smiling. "I told Luke you made me a better Jedi. I also said we wouldn't be doing this here and yet..."

"And yet," he echoed, his nose stroking over your cheek. "Since you've already broken that promise once, would it be so terrible to do it again?"

"Absolutely," you answered. "But I can never resist you, Din Djarin. You know that."

Two hours later, you were finally sitting calmly and meditatively in front of a small bowl of water and a lit candle - the reflection of the candle upon the water helping to clear your mind and soothe your spirit. Recalling your meeting with Paz Vizsla, you went through each stage of what led to your anger at him, analysing and considering all possible angles to avoid a repeat of such behaviours in the future. At the core of it was your attachment to Din, your desire to never see him be hurt or damaged. You had to be mindful and better at managing your emotions surrounding him, else it would be increasingly easy to act that way again. The candle suddenly flickered although there was no draft that you could feel, and you could see a darkness swirl within the bowl. It...had to be a trick of the light. The bowl was white, there was nowhere that the darkness could be. Still, it was there and as you concentrated on it, you thought you heard a noise. A low level thrumming like machinery, but punctuated by the occasional voice calling, shouting in distress, screaming...

"Mesh'la?" Din's voice struck through your mind like an arrow, and his hand on your shoulder shook the dream from you instantly. "You fell asleep," he said needlessly, a smile playing about his lips. You looked down at the candle and bowl. The water was clear and ordinary, the candle not burned down by much. You couldn't have been asleep for more than twenty minutes. "Are you okay?" he asked when you didn't reply to him.

"Yes, fine. Just a strange dream. And apparently I'm more tired than I imagined." Din helped you to your feet. "Can we go back to the Academy? We need to speak with Luke again." His face took on a stony, annoyed countenance. "I know, I know. But we do have things to talk through. Not least the Council's discussion about you and I. Luke...he is a good man. Please trust me on this. And when you feel ready - if you feel ready - you can talk to me about whatever it is that has made you so...well you know." He nodded and looked into your eyes, his own softened and filling with love as he beheld your face.

"I do trust you. Of course I do. And I trust that what I need to tell you will not change us. Its just-" he swallowed thickly, "-its hard to say out loud after so long." Your arms came round his back to hold him close and you felt the understanding pass between you, strengthening you both individually and together.

Once your clothes had (mostly) dried, you got dressed and Din gave a low hum of approval when he saw that you were continuing to wear his undershirt. "You look far better in that than I do," he remarked and you kissed him happily before handing him his helmet. He held your hand on the approach back to the Academy, seeming to want to be as close to you as he could after your disagreement, even through his coverings. Just as you were about to enter through the main doors, Tolea came out to you.

"There you are," she smiled. "I've been looking all over. Luke said there is to be a "Council meeting" after the evening meal?" You could almost hear the quotation marks around 'Council Meeting'. "There's hardly a Council to speak of!" Her eyes fell to where yours and Din's hands met and she raised an eyebrow, more suggestive than questioning. You set about introducing your fiancé and your friend properly. He seemed inclined to trust her as when you gave his name as "Mando", he interjected with his real first name and held out his hand to clasp hers.

"So, a Mandalorian, hey?" she teased. "You always did have a thing for them!" Your eyes had gone wide at her words and you could feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you saw Din's helmet turn to face you in the periphery of your vision and heard what sounded like a laugh swiftly muffled by a cough.

"I did not have a "thing" for them," you spluttered indignantly. "I was just interested in the history of the Mandalorian Wars!"

"Yeah, yeah. But the armour helped, right?"

"Tolea!"

"Alright, I'll stop," she promised, her hand coming to pat your shoulder in a good-natured way. "I actually just wanted to see if you would come and spar with me? I'm a little rusty and it might be a good learning experience for the Padawans."

"I will, if you never mention the word 'Mandalorian' in front of me ever again," you joked. She bowed to you in a mockery of a solemn promise and turned away to walk you around the building to the outside exercise yard. Your cheeks were just beginning to cool when Din's faintly amused voice spoke softly to you.

"A "thing" hmmm?"

"Oh don't you start," you urged, holding up a warning finger toward him.

"Well....I can see it, that's all I'm saying." He paused briefly. "And there was that "thing" with Fett too." Apparently Tolea's hearing was excellent because at this she rounded on you, her face gleeful as you turned to Din, horrified.

"DIN!"

"Excuse me, what? Boba Fett the Bounty Hunter?! The one with the armour, yes? I just want to be clear!" Din's rumble of laughter at your face and Tolea's delight made your heart give a sudden squeeze. It had been so long since you had been with friends that you knew and trusted, and even though they were currently ribbing you mercilessly, you were so grateful to have them both in your life again. Your voice was teasing as you made your rejoinder.

"I'd be careful if I were you. You just asked me to spar and told me you were out of practice. Such a shame, what accidents can occur," you said breezily to Tolea. "As for you," you narrowed your eyes at Din and gently poked your finger at his breastplate, "Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?!" He laughed at your meaningless threats and caught your hands before pressing his helmet to your forehead for the briefest moment.

"I should not have taught you that one," he said softly. "I mean...I beg your pardon, verd." Tolea was looking between you both, a little bemused.

"I'm going to assume you said something disgustingly private and leave it at that," she ventured.

"Close. I was threatening to smack him in the face. That's kind of Mandalorian courting, isn't it?" you teased.

"Excuse me!" he exclaimed, ruffled. "I'll show you Mandalorian courting!....That...wasn't supposed to sound like that," he added in a slightly defeated tone as both you and Tolea roared with laughter. The good natured teasing between the three of you lasted until you were almost at the exercise ground.

"Okay," Tolea breathed. "We have to be calm and act like actual adults for the children now." She tried to make her face solemn, but giggled slightly when she caught your eye as you were trying to do the same thing. "I missed you," she said as she patted your shoulder again and the warmth of your friendship sloshed between you like a tropical ocean wave. You managed to collect yourselves enough to greet the children with a modicum of decorum. Din settled himself on the edges of the training ground, a little apart from the Padawans - you assumed so as not to distract them. It worked, for the most part, although eyes would occasionally stray to where he stood, monolith-like in his size and stillness.

"As some of you may know," Tolea began, gesturing at you, "we both trained together at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant before the Empire came. We have spent many years apart, but the bonds of kinship as Jedi remain strong, as well as the bonds of friendship." She smiled fondly at the Padawans in front of her. "We would often practice our Forms with each other and train together. Hopefully, our bonds will show through there as well, despite the time apart." She took up her initial stance opposite you, and you followed her lead. As she ignited her lightsaber, you blinked in surprise.

"Yellow? That's new." Tolea smiled.

"I lost my lightsaber that night but I rebuilt it when I came here. There is an ancient Temple not too far from here. I found an old and broken lightsaber within it and was able to rescue its crystal and purify it as my own. It felt like it was meant to be mine, even more than my old one, somehow."

"We shall see how it serves you," you replied with a smile. "I'll go easy on you and spare you the double blade, for now." Tolea tutted at you, but there was warmth in her eyes. You began by slowly demonstrating various aspects of the Forms and explaining how to incorporate Force abilities within some of these aspects, but after a while the joy of training with your friend again overtook the teaching somewhat. It was as if everything else fell away and for a brief time you were both ten years old again, with so few responsibilities, delighting in your new lightsabers and your abilities. Tolea was far less rusty than she had lead you to believe and before long the sweat was running down your back. When you came to a natural break, you begged a few minutes and she gladly acquiesced. It was at this point that you noticed that the number of people observing had swelled considerably. Master Kholi had come to join you with his group of students and was looking with approval at yourself and Tolea.

"This is good to see," he commented. "I myself was never very skilled with weapons. I was a Healer at the Temple and never had much time for them. I am glad the children can learn from such as yourselves." He glanced over to Din who was holding Grogu protectively, the child's back against his chest. "I see the Mandalorian seems more inclined to stay. This too is good. I will see you both at the meeting."

Tolea and yourself set to pairing the children up according to ability. There were practice sabers for the very youngest that were little more than padded sticks and these were distributed. With Din holding tight to Grogu there was an uneven number, so Tolea herself matched with Loro. As you approached Din and Grogu, you could hear his soft words spoken toward the child.

"...know everything about how to defend yourself. We will make sure of it. You will be a great warrior one day. Like your buir." With these last words, he raised his helmet to you, and you realised he wasn't talking about himself. A surge of pride and love roared through you and as you came to Grogu and kissed his head, he reached out to be held by you a while. You took him and cradled him in your arms, so that he could continue to observe the training going on around him and stepped backward a little so that your back was resting against the right side of Din's body. His hand came discreetly to the small of your back and stroked you softly. "You were amazing, cyar'ika," he said softy. "I pity the person who gets in your way."

You beamed at his praise. "Perhaps you could teach the children too. I don't think many of them know how to handle a blaster. I'll raise it at the meeting." You turned around to him and could see his helmet tipped questioningly at you. "I don't know what the others will say, but to me it seems silly to have an expert in weaponry here and not take advantage of it. Your lessons saved my life many a time."

"Teaching children? Do you really think I'm suitable for that?"

"Absolutely. Why wouldn't you be? I had never taught children before I came here. Just...be yourself." You looked across at the training yard at the students. "See, you already have a fan," you added, amused. Alikas was watching you and Din and when she saw you looking, she waved at you, the distraction causing her opponent to be able to knock her training saber out of her hand. She scowled at him, reached her hand out to raise it from the ground and retrieve it, and redoubled her efforts in sparring.

"That one reminds me of you," said Din, and you could hear the smile on his lips through the beskar. "Fierce and unafraid to speak her mind."

"And this one," you said, planting another kiss on Grogu's head, "Reminds me of you. Stubborn and very cute." He chuckled and reached out a finger for Grogu to grasp.

"Where do I sleep tonight?" he asked softly. "And where do you?"

"I think that will depend on what is discussed later. We will have the evening meal first, and then it will be the children's bedtime." At your words, Grogu turned his head toward you with a hopeful coo, and an image came unbidden to your mind. "I'm sure there will be eggs for you, little one," you assured him.

There were indeed eggs, along with fruit and meats and bread and vegetables and a type of savoury pastry you had never had before, but you took to well. The mood at the table was jovial and light, despite the fact that Luke was nowhere to be seen. Alikas displaced you by sitting next to Din before you could this time, and she and Grogu giggled happily together as they shared in their meal. Once Grogu had eaten his fill and was merely playing with his food, Din tasked her with watching him while he gathered a plate of his own to eat. The child nodded solemnly at the request and Tolea squeezed your arm in a silent promise that she would watch over both children. Just before he left, Din took a small silver ball out of a tiny pocket on his belt. Grogu babbled a long stream of happy nonsense and reached for it, using his power to take the ball from Din's hand. Din huffed a small laugh of contentment and stroked Grogu's head softly before picking up his plate. You led Din out of the dining hall and to the right, down one of the corridors of the quadrangle to one of the classrooms where he could eat his meal in peace. After removing his helmet and sitting down with his back to the door, he attacked the food with fervour, having had nothing since breakfast and once his immediate hunger was sated, he stared around at the pale blue walls surrounding him and the windows that looked over the grassy plains.

"Why do you have such a big space for so few?" he wondered aloud.

"Partly because we are hoping that we will not be so few in the near future," you smiled at him. "But also because this structure is part of something more ancient. Certain planets have more of a connection with the Force than others. Or at least, the Force flows more freely through them. This is such a place and is one of the reasons Luke chose to found the Academy here. Other Jedi came here before us and also settled. Some of their buildings survived and were in turn built upon. You paused, then said more softly, "I wish you could have seen the old Temple on Coruscant. It was a thousand times the size of this. The amount of times I got lost, even after having lived there for years...And it was so beautiful. Vaulted ceilings that were so high you could barely see them, or it felt that way. carvings and tapestries of Jedi past everywhere. And a serenity that permeated it. As soon as you walked in you felt more at peace with the galaxy." You only realised that you were staring out of the window, when Din took your hand. You had been looking at the plains but actually seeing the slanted sunbeams coming through the windows of the Temple and hitting the marble floors.

As you came back to yourself Din said softly, "It was your home. You've told me that it was before, but I've never really seen you speak of it as such until now. I'm sorry I cannot offer you a place like that to live."

"Don't. I just need you. The ship feels more like home with you in it than it ever did when I was alone." You stroked your hands over the stubble at his jaw as you spoke and he moved his cheek against your hand, almost burrowing into your touch. "I love you, Din. I don't tell you nearly enough." His eyes met yours and they were soft and warm with his matching adoration of you. You leaned forward to capture his lips with your own and as you did, heard a slightly embarrassed cough from the direction of the door. You raised your eyes to see Tolea standing there.

"Sorry," she grimaced. "Its just, the children are about to prepare for bed and I thought you might like to say goodnight." Din put his helmet back on and stood, gathering his plate and cutlery as he did so. "Here I'll take that," she offered. "You go."

Instead of sleeping in one room, the children were now divided into three dormitories, and Loro had his own little room to himself next door to the younglings. It was strange to see how much had changed in the relatively short time you had been away. Grogu shared a room with Alikas and a little boy called Dann. Even if Luke hadn't mentioned Tolea's biological children, you would have recognised those eyes anywhere. As you went to tuck the children in, Din hung back a little by the doorway, clearly still unsure as to whether he should be there. But when Grogu reached for him, he went immediately, stroking his fuzzy little head and covering him over with the blankets in his crib. "Goodnight, kid," he murmured. "Sweet dreams."

Din and you went your separate ways shortly afterward - he returned to the Haldon while you joined the other Jedi in Luke's study. Luke looked pensive and a little worried as you entered and he immediately asked you about the Mandalorian.

"He is troubled. Less by what we spoke of and more about something deeper, something from his past. He has not spoken to me about that yet, but he is also concerned about the alliance you spoke of. Din has no desire to be the Mand'alor. He obtained the Darksaber almost accidentally. He wishes a peaceful transition of power to the Mandalorian who does wish to rule." Tolea and Ka-Moon both looked a little confused about what you were saying, so you set to telling them an abridged version of what had befallen the day that Luke had taken Grogu. "We have plans to meet with Din's people. After that we will have a better idea of how to proceed. He does not want another civil war amongst the Mandalorians, especially since they are already so few. But the Mand'alor must be determined by combat. There seems to be no way to reconcile these things. An overt alliance with the Jedi at this time would muddy the political waters even further and bring undue attention upon us here," you concluded.

"I understand his reaction a little more now. And yet a reluctant ruler can sometimes be the better kind. He does not seek power for himself, or for its own sake. What about the one that wants the throne?"

"I know little about her, other than Din considers her honourable. I trust his judgement." Luke nodded, looking thoughtful again. Tolea piped up, a little hesitantly.

"I don't mean to detract from the seriousness of the situation, but if he did choose to take the throne does that mean you would be a...queen?" You smiled at her. It was a question that had passed through your mind but that you had paid little real attention to.

"I don't think it works that way. There is only one ruler of Mandalore. There are few shades of grey in their society. I think I would be viewed as his consort, but would wield no actual power. That's if we were married, of course." The unadorned mention of why you were here caused a slight tension in the room for a few seconds before it relaxed and released, the bubble burst by your simple words. No one seemed surprised by your declaration and your suspicion that the others had at least sensed the feelings between Din and yourself seemed to have been proven right. That was if Luke hadn't just told them both outright.

"I am personally unsure about the wisdom of doing away with such rules," Ka-Moon said, a little stiffly. "We all know where such attachment can lead."

"So much has changed," countered Tolea. "The dangers of allowing attachment to drive emotion are still present, but how can we be away from the rigours of Temple life for almost twenty years and then return to that life as if nothing were different?"

"We cannot," agreed Ka-Moon, "But nor should we let go of everything that made the Order what it was."

"I agree," Luke chimed in, "But we should find a new way forward. The Order fell in part because it was not responsive enough to change. I believe we need to be more flexible in how we operate, now that we are so few."

"Forgive me, but you were not there. I do not believe you have sufficient knowledge of how the Order used to be run to be able to criticise it in such a way."

"But we all were," you interjected, "And Yoda himself trained Luke, and I agree with him."

"You have a vested interest in this particular discussion," pointed out Ka-Moon gently. "I am not dismissing your view, only pointing out the circumstances surrounding it."

"Then I too must have a vested interest," said Tolea. "Since my children are here. Would you have us leave, Master Kholi? If we are adhering to the old ways, the children should not be in my presence." She sighed. "We cannot go back. We must build what we can."

"Bringing force sensitive younglings to be trained is far different than seeking marriage. The children are already here, we cannot deny them. We need to nurture them and their abilities. Ratifying marriage within the Order is new territory and possibly dangerous."

"The Mandalorian and I will continue to live as we have," you pointed out. "Whether we speak the words or not, he is my husband in my life, in my heart."

"So what difference does it make?" asked Ka-Moon.

"Precisely," you answered.

The debate stretched. Tea was made and drunk and made again. The light had almost totally failed and only a few streaks of pale green across the blue of the sky to the north showed where the sun had been by the time a decision was made. Ka-Moon was still not entirely happy, but had come around to the idea of forging a new path for the Jedi. Afterward he confessed that his own heart ached for a past love that he had been forced to give up in service of the Order and you understood his reluctance a little more. When you had suggested that he go and seek him, as you had Din, he gave a sad smile and shook his head. "He died fighting the Empire a long time ago. But I wish you and your Mandalorian much happiness in your life together." You were grateful for his kind words and told him as much.

"So...how do we go about this? I mean, can we do this here? Soon?"

Luke smiled a little at your eager impatience. "I don't see why not. If you can find somewhere you want to conduct the ceremony. What will the ceremony be, anyway?"

"I don't even know. There is a very brief Mandalorian ritual but as to what I am bringing, I just don't know. I would like to have you all there, though. My family in attendance and to witness." Tolea was overjoyed for you and hugged you close with tears starting in her eyes as she did so. As the meeting broke up, she caught your hand in her own.

"Come with me, I want to give you something." Curious, you followed her to her chambers - which were dark panelled but hung with beautifully woven and brightly coloured tapestries all over, giving the impression that you were walking into some sort of botanical garden. She rummaged around in a trunk at the end of her bed and finally emerged with a folded garment in her arms. "This was-" she began before her voice cracked. You stroked her shoulder, encouraging her to go on if she could. "This was the dress I was wearing when I met my husband. Well...he was never my husband under the law. He died before...But I was going to use it for my wedding dress as well. If you like it, I want you to wear it."

"Tolea I...that's so wonderful of you. Are you quite sure?" She nodded, sniffling a little.

"It was supposed to be a wedding dress. It should be a wedding dress," she said, simply. "Try it on, we'll see how it suits you and if we need to adjust it anywhere." You gently shook the dress out. It was long and flowing, made of some material that seemed to catch and hold the breeze within it, and a beautiful lavender colour that rippled as it undulated gently. Tolea helped you put it on and aside from some minor adjustments to the waist, and the sleeves being a little too long it fit almost perfectly. Her eyes welled up again a little as she took in the sight of you and you thanked her profusely as you embraced. "I can't believe I have my friend back and now you're getting married? It's so strange! Do you remember those nights we couldn't sleep and would talk about what it would be like to have a "normal" life? We never expected we would actually do it!"

"I remember both of us being giggly over Master Kenobi," you said, laughing. "We weren't exactly model Jedi, even back then!" Tolea laughed and rummaged in the trunk again, coming up with a small sewing kit.

"Let me just adjust this a little for you. It will be finished by tomorrow." She took her measurements and made her markings and you gave the dress back into her capable hands before putting on your usual clothes. "Go tell Din the good news," she smiled as she shooed you gently out of her room.

Even though the hour was late, Din had not closed up the ship, clearly expecting that you would indeed visit after your meeting. As you approached, you wondered why he had not come out to meet you, as the sensors in his helmet would have told him of your approach in good time. Reasoning that he had perhaps become weary of his beskar again and was hiding out in the ship, you all but ran up the incline of the entrance ramp, calling him as you did. He was not in the hold and there was no reply. You opened the door to the room you shared, but he was not there. You couldn't hear the shower running in the fresher either. The elation you had felt was souring to anxiety in your stomach as you climbed the ladder to the cockpit where you found Din's hulking form slouched in the pilot's chair, his helmet thrown carelessly to one side and his right arm dangling loosely over the armrest, the hilt of the Darksaber in his hand. He did not turn at the sound of your approach and a brief moment of terror seized your heart when you thought he might be unconscious, or worse.

"Din?" you called again as you came up to the back of the seat, and this time he stirred a little, though his eyes never left the view from the cockpit window. "Din, what's wrong?" you asked as you came to his side and touched his elbow. Finally, he dragged his gaze to you. His eyes were lit with the same wildness that you had seen when he had kissed you in the rain but it was wrong somehow, muted, dulled, and sickly. A thin trail of dark blood leaked from one nostril.

"I can hear it," he frowned, his words slightly slurred and coming slowly. "Is this what you hear? How can you bear it?"

"You can hear what, Din?" you asked, trying to keep your voice calm as you pressed the back of your hand to his head. His brow was both cold and slick with sweat.

"Everything," he panted. "Why can I hear it? I...I can feel it." His eyes grew suddenly wide and fearful, something you had never seen before and which chilled you to the bone.

"Din, you need to come with me," you said firmly. "You're unwell. Master Kholi will look over you and then you will be fine." This last part was more for your benefit than for his. There had only been one other time when he had acted in a similar way, long ago when you had first travelled with him, before you had ever known him fully. It had been such a silly mistake. As you had chased your quarry through a jungle landscape, he had tripped over a root and fallen headfirst into a bush. You had teased him mercilessly about it for the rest of the afternoon and all seemed well until the next morning. It transpired that as he had removed his beskar for the night, a thorn that had snagged on his clothing had scratched a jagged line onto his skin, its swift poison working its way through him as he slept. Even through his delirium he had managed to put his helmet back on before you found him. It had been his last rational thought for several days.

The beautiful depths of his eyes grew cloudy with confusion at your words. "But...you asked me. If I could feel it. And now I can."

"Its okay, kar'ta." you murmured soothingly to him. "Come with me, everything will be-" A thought struck you like a thunderbolt. "Din," you whispered haltingly, "Do you mean you can feel the Darksaber?" In reply he held the hilt limply up toward you, almost as an offering. It seemed to take all of his strength to make that simple movement. You gulped as you reached for it with trepidation, wanting to take the burden of it from Din, but not wanting you both to be afflicted with whatever it was that was happening. As your fingers closed around the hilt, a wave of sound and emotion hit you. Terror and abandonment and rage and screaming madness and the same thrumming that you had heard earlier as you had meditated, stronger this time and more defined as a heavy thumping the longer you held the hilt. As blackness crowded the edge of your vision, you dropped it to the floor of the ship. Din made tiny anguished noise at the sight and reached down weakly to grasp at it again. "No!" you exclaimed sharply as you pushed him gently but firmly back into his seat. "Leave it there!" You kicked the weapon away out of the reach of you both, the terrifying cacophony blasting through you for a second time as your boot connected with it. Din lay back into the pilot's chair, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he couldn't quite get enough oxygen into him. Quickly, you used the communication array to contact Luke, silently offering a prayer of gratitude when he answered almost immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "I sense-"

"Get Ka-Moon and come to the ship. Din is ill. Please hurry." Luke disconnected at once and you turned your attentions back to the man in front of you, kneeling down beside him and taking his gloved hand in yours while stroking the sweat soaked strands of his hair back from his forehead. "Kar'ta, they will be here soon and we will make you feel better, I promise. Can we take some of your beskar off? You might be more comfortable when they arrive." His attention seemed to have meandered back to the cockpit window. You stood and looked outside yourself, but could see only the darkness of the plains ahead. Only starlight existed out there to illuminate anything and it wasn't enough. Bending back to Din, you began to remove his pauldrons. He did nothing to stop you, but nor did he assist. You weren't entirely sure he was able to move to help, nor that he was even aware of what you were doing.

Your mind was turning furiously, trying to piece together what had happened. Clearly he had been well enough to get up the ladder to the cockpit in the first place, so this was a relatively new affliction. But you had been at the meeting for hours. Who knew how long he had been here in this state? The thought of him experiencing the torment you had heard and felt for that long made you choke back a sob that tried to make its way up your throat, and you forced your mind back to rationality with some difficulty. When you had been on Artorias and had begun teaching him about lightsaber forms, you had asked him if he could feel anything from the Darksaber, if the crystal within it spoke to him as your lightsaber crystal spoke to you. He had replied in the negative. What had changed? Location was the most obvious answer. This planet was strong with the Force. Was it possible that he had a degree of Force sensitivity but that it took a planet like this for it to be strong enough to be noticeable? Or was the Darksaber reacting differently and not Din himself? You had held the weapon previously and had felt nothing like what you had just experienced. As your mind whirred you were removing his thigh armour and this time he moved his legs up a little, you believed in an attempt to give you easier access to the fastenings. Your heart gave a hopeful leap at this and as you pulled the beskar away you cradled his face and looked into his eyes. They were still hazy, with pain or confusion you couldn't tell, but his attention was fixed on you now, and he held your gaze. Both of which you took to be good signs.

"Its okay Din, it will all be okay. I love you. I love you so much. We will make you better, I promise. I'm here with you and it will all be okay." You were babbling a stream of near-meaningless nonsense, for your own benefit as much as his. You heard Luke's voice and footsteps approach up the incline of the ramp and pressed your lips against Din's briefly, thinking (hoping?) you felt him try to reciprocate. You stroked his face softly before easing him forward from the headrest and placing his helmet back on his head, calling to the Jedi below as you did so.

The next couple of hours were a nightmare whirlwind for you. Ka-Moon made his basic assessments of Din, but was hampered by the fact that you refused to allow him to take his helmet off. You had no idea what choice Din would make in this situation, given that Luke had already seen his face, but you were determined to err on the side of caution and to retain his dignity for him as far as possible. Din seemed to be able to move a little more as the minutes ticked by and eventually could stand, aided by a person on either side of him, though he seemed to have lost the ability to speak when you took the Darksaber from him. Getting him down the ladder was problematic to say the least. While his hands were still able to grip the rungs sufficiently, you ended up helping to physically move his legs while Luke was on standby to catch him, with the Force if necessary. Mercifully, there was a floating stretcher waiting in the hold and as you helped Din to lie back on to it, he groped for your hand and squeezed it when you gave it to him. It was a pitiful fraction of his usual strength, but it bolstered your courage and gave you hope in your heart. You ached for him, that people were witnessing his physical weakness and for the first and only time you hoped that his wits hadn't entirely returned, to spare him his shame. As you had appraised Luke of what you had experienced, he had wrapped the Darksaber in a thick woollen blanket that you had provided, taking care to only touch it with his gloved mechanical hand and looking grimly thoughtful as he did. Tolea was there to greet you at the door of the Academy again and she accompanied you all to the medical bay. Ka-Moon swore that he would not remove Din's helmet but requested that he be allowed a degree of peace to run his tests. You knew it was the best thing to do, but were also having trouble leaving Din's side. Much as you trusted in Ka-Moon's healing capabilities, you couldn't help but feel that somehow this was your fault and that by leaving Din alone you were compounding your mistake. Only when Din managed to breathe a shaky "Mesh'la" to you before stroking his thumb clumsily over your cheek did you feel he was recovered enough for you to be just outside the room. You kissed the top of his helmet and pressed your forehead against it before you left, accompanied by Tolea and Luke.

"What's happening? Did you feel anything from the Darksaber? How can I help him? What can I do?" you fired these questions in quick succession at Luke, your voice breaking on the last one. Tolea came to you and hugged you close.

"I have a theory," Luke began haltingly, "But its not complete...Tolea, tell me again what you saw when you went to the Temple." Tolea let you go and turned to face Luke, but before she did you saw the look of trepidatious realisation on her face.

"The Temple where you got your crystal?" you asked, frantically.

Luke nodded. "I don't know if you remember but just before you left to find Din, I mentioned that I thought I had found reference to an ancient temple nearby. When Tolea arrived she volunteered to go and find it if she could."

"There was something...bizarre about the place," Tolea said, her eyes a little distant. "The further in I explored the more untouched it looked. As if one day everyone had just flown away and left. I found a few useful things scattered around - datapads and the like. The only ruination I could see had been caused by the weather and so was mainly on the outside. Until I reached what looked like the meditation room. There were...bones in there. A lot of them. All jumbled up. And scorch marks from weapons on the walls. Its where I found the lightsaber that I took my crystal from. There were a few of them scattered around, but I was drawn to that one in particular..."

"Did you feel anything from the Temple?" you pressed. "Anything that might explain-" you broke off and gestured helplessly at the room behind you.

Tolea shook her head. "You were always the more perceptive of us," she answered. "I felt nothing but the sadness and emptiness of yet more death around me."

"I need to go there," you said instantly. "If it might help-" Luke held up a warding hand.

"I know its not what you want to hear," he cautioned, "But you must be patient. Do not rush in until we have more information." He spoke more loudly over you as you began to protest, "I know you want to feel like you are doing something. But he needs you here. Once he is back on his feet, you know he will follow you wherever you may go. And without knowing more about what has happened here, you might just be leading him into more danger." He was right, you knew he was right.

"So what can I do?" you whispered miserably.

"You can help me with my research. The Darksaber is a unique weapon in the galaxy as far as we know. And so much of its history is lost. We will start with information on its creator, Tarre Vizsla, and then-"

"Vizsla," you murmured. Luke looked at you, puzzled. "Vizsla was the name of the Mandalorian I met. The one I...lost my control with." Had it really only been the previous night that you and Din had been wrapped around each other in the magnificence of that bed? It seemed like weeks ago. "I knew I recognised the name, but I couldn't think why. I have read about Tarre Vizsla before. Do you think it is relevant?"

"At this point, I don't want to rule anything out," Luke said grimly.

"Can you spare a datapad? I don't want to move too far from here."

Luke's eyes and voice softened a little as he replied. "Of course," he said. "I'll upload everything I have been able to find out about this planet and the Darksaber and I'll bring it to you." Tolea was the one who actually brought you the datapad. She came to you twenty minutes after Luke had departed and she also brought along water, some fruit and a couple of large colourful patchwork cushions that you recognised as having been on her bed earlier.

"In case you want to be a little more comfortable," she explained as you gratefully accepted them. There were no chairs in the corridor and the toll of the day had begun to make itself known to you. "No news?" she enquired, her eyes flicking toward the medbay door. You shook your head wordlessly, not trusting yourself to speak at that moment. She brought you in for a hug again. "Everything will be okay," she soothed as she stroked your hair. "He is strong. He will be just fine."

"What do I-" your voice broke and you stopped to take deep breaths before continuing. "How do I tell Grogu?" you whispered miserably. "He's only just got Din back and now..." Tolea took your face in her hands and looked into your eyes.

"You won't need to tell Grogu anything because Din will be fine," she insisted. You nodded sadly and Tolea sat you down on one of the cushions, positioning herself on the other opposite you. "Can I ask something?" she spoke hesitantly and you nodded for her to continue. "What did he say to you in there? That word that made you come away." You felt your eyes well up and had some difficulty controlling the spasms of grief that passed across your face. "I'm sorry," Tolea apologised hurriedly. "I shouldn't have-"

"It's ok," you said, your voice a little wobblier than you would have liked. "It's Mando'a. He called me 'Mesh'la'. Its his name for me, when we're together. I don't think he's ever said it quite that publicly before. It means 'beautiful'." And for some reason, that was the word that broke the through the dam you had tried so hard to keep strong. Tears flooded down your face in a silent stream as Tolea held you against her shoulder, stroking over your back through your shuddering breaths.

Once you were calm, you insisted Tolea go to get some rest. It would already be a challenge to focus on the datapad in front of you, when Din was so close and yet so out of reach. You didn't want to hurt Tolea's feelings, but you did not want an additional distraction to your task. She left, but only once she had extracted a promise from you that you would call her if you needed her for anything. Once you settled back down on the cushions and began to read, you realised that much of Luke's research was more of a reminder of what you had already known than anything new. Tarre Visla had been the first Mandalorian to train as a Jedi on the Temple on Coruscant. He had created the Darksaber as a way to marry his Mandalorian and Jedi identities and it had later become a symbol of power among Mandalorians, Vizsla himself using the weapon while he was the Mand'alor. After he had died, the Jedi had brought the Darksaber back to the Temple and it had been kept there until members of House Vizsla had taken it back and used it to unite the Mandalorian clans. That had been during the fall of the Old Republic, over a thousand years ago and its history was shrouded in mystery for many centuries thereafter.

More interesting was what he had been able to discover about the Temple that lay not far to the East. It had been a Jedi stronghold towards the end of the Jedi-Sith wars, around the same time that Vizsla was alive, and although it was small it was apparently of some strategic importance to both sides. There were reports of frequent Sith attacks, all of which seemed to be successfully repelled by the Jedi stationed there. However, the last report that Luke had been able to find had some interesting details that caught your eye. The Sith that had attacked on this occasion were bolstered by a cell of highly trained fighters that had managed to withstand the Jedi offensives, even though they themselves were not Force users. And there was a mention of a "Hunter" that stalked the plains, picking off any unwary Jedi that strayed too far from the confines of the Temple. The very last line of this account was a desperate plea to Coruscant for extraction, with a warning that the Temple was now unviable and a line that sent a chill down your spine; "They did not conquer, they did not have to. They were always here. They will always be here."

As you pondered the implications of those words, the door behind you opened and Ka-Moon's kindly face looked down at you. "Come in," he invited, and you scrambled to your feet to do just that. Din was sitting up on one of the beds, his back to the wall and with one leg on the bed and one on the floor, as if he were about to attempt to walk. His remaining beskar, cape and gloves were piled on a chair near to the bed, but his helmet was on. "Don't let him do too much," Ka-Moon was saying as you made your way across the floor to Din. "He needs rest. I will be back shortly." You thanked him a little distractedly as he withdrew from the room, and then turned your attention fully to Din. He moved to take the helmet from his head and you gladly assisted him. He looked exhausted, but much more himself and you couldn't stop the tears that spilled from your eyes as you bent and kissed his lips tenderly.

"Kar'ta," you whispered, as you gathered him to your chest and pressed him close. "I was so worried. I thought...I thought I had lost you."

"Never," he replied, his voice a little raspy. "It will require more than that to take me from you, cyar'ika." You took his face in your hands and scanned him, even as he wiped the tears from your cheeks. There was no evidence of physical hurt to him, even his nose had stopped bleeding. His eyes were his own again and that pleased you more than anything.

"What happened?" you asked as you sat yourself on the bed, holding his hands in your own. "What do you remember?" He was shaking his head at the questions.

"Ka-Moon asked me the same and I will tell you what I told him. I went back to the ship to attend to my weapons and beskar while you were in your meeting. I did so and took a shower afterward. That is all I remember." You frowned.

"You don't remember getting dressed? Putting your beskar back on? Going to the cockpit?" He shook his head at each question as you fired them. "When do your memories return?"

"I have flashes but I don't know if they are real memories or not. I remember taking my helmet off but I don't remember why. I remember a voice. Not yours. But a woman's. And...other noises." He visibly shuddered and then pulled himself together. "The sky. The sky was on fire. I remember your face. You took some of my armour off. And you held my hand. I remember reaching out to touch your face. Then everything seemed to settle in my head but you weren't there anymore. I've felt more like myself again for half an hour or so."

"Do you remember what this woman you heard said?" He frowned, his eyes focused on the floor but not really seeing it.

"She wanted something from me. I don't know what. I can't remember what she said, but I remember her hatred. Its still in my mind, like a bad taste I can't get rid of." He shook his head as if to dislodge what he was feeling.

"Are you in pain?" you asked him gently.

"My head hurt. He gave me something for it." He paused. "What happened to me?" You explained the situation from your point of view. When you came to talk about the Darksaber, Din almost absent-mindedly groped behind his back to feel for it and you gently took his hand in yours again.

"Luke has it. It seems to be connected with what happened but we aren't sure how yet." As you continued with your story, the crease between his eyes deepened until he was fully frowning at your words. You made sure to skate lightly over how much assistance he had required from the ship to the medbay and he didn't seem much inclined to ask. Your story ended with what you had read on the datapad and your own conclusion that you had drawn. "I have to go to the Temple, to investigate."

"Mesh'la-" he began, warningly.

"No, Din. I have to go. I need to stop this ever happening to you again, and for that I need information."

"Then I come with you." He made as if to heave himself off the bed, but you halted his progression gently with one hand.

"You need rest right now. I will not be going any time soon. I still need to see if Luke has discovered anything new." Din reluctantly settled himself back against the wall. When you spoke again, you did so hesitantly, not wanting to make him relive his traumatic experience quite so soon, but also needing answers only he could provide. "I know you say you remember nothing," you began, "but you said to me that you could hear the Darksaber, that you could feel it. Do you recall taking it out? Or using it? Or anything unusual about it from this evening?" Din frowned again in concentration and you squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there and he was safe. He spoke haltingly when he replied.

"When I cleaned my weapons, I held the Darksaber and switched it on to check it was all in order. But I remember that clearly, there was no voice then, nothing was wrong. It was all as it should be. I think...the Darksaber was the way that the woman could speak to me. But I don't know why I think that, I just have a feeling."

"Trust your feelings," you urged. "And let me know if anything else comes back to you. But for now, you must rest." You moved to the other side of the bed to settle next to him. "I am here, kar'ta," you murmured, as he lay down on his side and faced you. You kissed his forehead and held him close and within no time at all his breathing was deep and even as he fell into a deep sleep of exhaustion. After you had moved carefully and quietly back out of the room, you found Ka-Moon and informed him of Din's helmetless and sleeping state, promising him you would return shortly. Then you made your way to Luke's study where you were not surprised to find Tolea assisting in the research he had promised.

"I couldn't sleep," she confessed. "Not when everyone else was awake and doing something." You nodded and squeezed her hand gratefully before sitting in a chair next to her and putting forward the theory that had started to come together in your mind.

"I think that the Darksaber was here on this planet before, a thousand years ago. There is a mention of what sounds very much like a mercenary band of Mandalorians in that information you gave me, Luke. And a reference to a Hunter picking off Jedi, which may also have been one of their number. If Mandalorians and the Sith were working together here, is it not possible that the Darksaber was...infused? With some kind of memory perhaps. If one of the Sith were that strong, could they have done such a thing? And now that the weapon is back here, the echoes of it are strong enough to reach out and try to connect with us. If Din has any Force sensitivity it would explain why he was affected so badly. With no training to shield him, his mental defences would be minimal. I know its not a perfect explanation, but I think it fits a lot of the pieces together."

Luke seemed to ponder what you had proffered in silence for a time. "I have heard of artifacts and weapons retaining an essence of their owners, if their owners were sufficiently powerful in life," he mused. "I am troubled greatly by all of this. Not just because of what has happened to Din, but for the future of the Academy. I thought I felt a darkness...somewhere. I thought it was the remnant of what had happened between you and Vizsla, but now I begin to suspect it is something more. I have had dreams here and there ever since Tolea got back from her exploration, and I should have paid them more attention." He slapped his mechanical hand on the desk, and rose to pace the room.

"When you held the Darksaber, did you feel anything from it?" you enquired.

"No. And that troubles me too. How could someone who is not Force sensitive as far as we know hear it and I not? Unless..." he trailed off and turned to you. "Unless whatever was possessing it had got what it wanted. If possession is the right word. There's still so much we don't know."

"Which is why I need to go," you insisted.

"I will go myself," Luke said. "You are too close to this. If something is targeting you or Din, you need to stay far away from there. And I will not go until I am sure I have learned all I can about this situation." He spoke more softly toward you. "Go to him. Its the best thing you can do right now. And if you can, get some rest. We will resume tomorrow morning."

"The children-" you began.

"The children will be fine," Tolea interjected calmly. "And there is no sense in worrying about them or Grogu right now. Din may well be fully recovered tomorrow. Give it a night and see." You looked between she and Luke, feeling somehow that they were ganging up on you, even though what they were saying was perfectly logical and, you suspected, the right thing to do. You nodded and rose to leave the study.

"Before you go," Luke added, "Could you make out any words in what you were hearing when you held the Darksaber? Anything that might help?"

You shook your head slowly. "I don't think so. It was like a wall of sound. Of screaming in pain and anger and a weird thumping noise. But I should tell you something else that happened to me earlier." And you proceeded to inform him of your dream that you had had while meditating. "I don't know if its related, but the thumping kind of sounded the same and it seems like too much of a coincidence to not be linked."

"Agreed," Luke mused. "Go. I'll catch up with you tomorrow."

As you made your way back to the medbay, your mind was spinning once again. It was logical that Luke be the one to investigate the Temple, but something didn't sit entirely comfortably within you at that notion. You couldn't identify why, but you had a deep feeling that you should be the one to sort this mess out. Din was the most important part of your life and you wanted to be sure that proper justice would be done for the hurt he had suffered. Not that you didn't trust Luke, but you felt that with your additional investment in the situation, perhaps you would be more motivated to get answers. There was a part of you that wanted to just go, leave, fly off in the Haldon and fix it now, now, now. But you resisted the impulse. Din needed you and he came first. When you re-entered the room, Ka-Moon seemed to be running some tests, Din was sat up on the bed, his face covered once again.

"Well, the good news is that you are in wonderful physical shape," he was telling Din as he removed a sensor from the end of his finger. "And if you say you feel fine there isn't much more I can do for you at the moment. I would perhaps ask that you remain here overnight..." He trailed off as Din shook his head.

"I don't like hospitals," he grunted. "I won't get any rest."

"I'll be with him," you told Ka-Moon. "We'll go to my chamber here so we will be close by if anything happens." He inclined his head at you in acquiescence and moved off. Din reached for you as you approached and you took his hand and helped him to his feet. He was quite steady and apparently didn't need to lean on you. "Do you feel okay?" you asked. He nodded, but kept hold of your hand as he gathered his belongings from the chair.

Your chambers had remained almost untouched since your departure many months before. The droids had been in to clean and air the room and fresh bedding had been put on, so it wasn't dusty or dank, but it did have that sense of being unlived in that places get after a time with no one moving around in them. You lit the lamp by your bed and its soft yellow light permeated the room. Din shut the door behind him and deposited his clothes and armour on top of your dressing table, topping it with his helmet and then taking some time to look around him. The space was sparsely furnished and decorated. Everything that had meant the most to you, you had taken along with you upon your departure. Not that there was much, even then. The walls were dark panelled, similar to the room Tolea inhabited and this gave the room a cocoon-like quality. Strip lights were embedded in the walls, but you chose to leave them unlit - right now you wanted to make the room as conducive to sleep as possible. Some hangings in purple, pink and blue decorated the wall behind your bed. Their colours had reminded you of sunset on Naboo and you had bought them on impulse some years before. You had rescued Tolea's cushions from outside of the medbay and you stacked them neatly next to Din's armour before moving to the window and closing the curtains.

"Wait," Din instructed before you could block out the outside world entirely. He came up behind you, slid his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against yours as he did and pulling you flush against his body. "I want to see the view."

"You can see much more of it when its not the middle of the night, Din," you smiled.

"Perhaps I meant the other view," he murmured as his finger snagged on the neckline of his undershirt, hanging so much more loosely than your usual garments and giving him an eyeful of your cleavage. You smiled fondly at his persistence and impetuosity.

"You just had quite an ordeal. Is this really the first thing you want to do?" you asked, half expecting it to be a rhetorical question. He held you even tighter to him and you were astonished to feel his breath hitch a little behind you. You tried to turn to him, to see his face and take him in your arms, but he held you firmly against him.

"I...just need you, cyar'ika. I do not know what happened today and that scares me. That is twice I have been afraid today, and twice I have told you so. What is happening to me? I do not think this place...I do not think it is for the likes of me. Perhaps there is a reason that there were no other Mandalorian Jedi. Maybe these worlds are not supposed to mix in this way." It shocked you, the uncertainty in his voice. It was so unlike Din to sound unsure. Even when he had no idea what he was doing, he would plough on ahead and try until he got the result he wanted through sheer force of will and bloody mindedness.

"You have me, Din. Always," you reassured him and all at once you remembered that amidst all of the worry and trauma of the afternoon, you had still not given him the good news. You squeezed his arms tighter around you and turned your face toward him, your lips brushing lightly over the tip of his nose as you added "If you still want me forever."

You heard the initial confusion in his voice as he said "Of course, why would I-" and the sudden joy that infused his words as he realised what you meant. "We will marry? You will not have to leave the Order?" He turned you to him as he spoke and held your upper arms. You smiled your answer at him and his lips crashed excitedly against yours. "Can we-I mean...I still don't know if you have a ritual to follow. But I want to do this. Now, if we can."

"Right now?" He nodded and cradled your face in one of his hands.

"I need you," he repeated.

"Don't we need someone to officiate? A witness?"

"Usually the head of the Clan is the one to hear the vows. I am the head of the Clan. I am...well, I am head of all the Clans..." he trailed off In a slightly embarrassed way and then continued swiftly as his eyes darted back to you. "We can reaffirm in front of the Tribe when we see them. We can do whatever ritual you wish in front of your Order. But I have been without you as my riduur for long enough. Besides, I wish to look upon you with my own eyes when we are joined."

"Yes," you whispered joyfully. "Let's do this." His smile was like the sunrise as he leaned forward to kiss you softly.

"I must teach you the words first," he smiled. He did and you spoke them slowly together, promising unity in all things, to share your lives in love forever and to raise Grogu and any other children you might have as warriors and looking with love and devotion upon the other as you did. He kissed you again afterward, the beautiful swell of his lips tenderly caressing over yours, the promises that had fallen from them captured between you in unbreakable bonds.

"My riduur," you murmured as you pressed your cheek against his chest, hearing the thunder of his heartbeat and his arms encircling you. "My love."

That night you held him. He lay on your bed with his back to you, looking out over the inky blackness of the planet's nightscape. One hand was around his stomach and curling up to his chest, stroking over his marred skin, and the other was softly stroking his curls while you placed occasional chaste kisses across the top of his back and shoulders, inhaling the heady masculinity of his scent as you did so. Your leg was hooked over his, resting against the sturdy muscle of his thigh and he stroked you there softly, seeming to just want the reassurance of your proximity. Long after he fell asleep you remained awake, your mind still unable to settle after the trauma of the day and the exhilaration of finally being joined with Din in all ways. He stirred a little, a small grunt emanating from him as he twitched in his sleep. Perhaps he too was reliving what had happened. You sent soothing, calm, loving feelings toward him and held him closer and he settled again, breathing a deep sigh and muttering nonsense to himself. Just before the dawn quite made itself known, when the sky was still blue enough to see the stars you succumbed to your weariness, slipping into a dreamless, formless unconsciousness but safe in the knowledge that Din was with you, now and always.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #star wars #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #darksaber shit

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ruewrites · 3 years

Note

Hi, i hope you are doing good. So i had a request, i really like angst and i was reading We're Blooming Togheter (its very good btw) And i was wondering if maybe you could write like an one-shot about Asmo and more about his last partners? Or maybe more about Lucifer taking care of the brothers at such a young age after being abandoned...i just really like angst.

Revisiting Past Ghosts

AO3

WBT

Ship: Solomon/Asmo, Lucifer/Diavolo (more near the end?)

Word Count: 3113

Warnings: Some violence (skip the third snippit)

A/N: Hi Anon! I’m happy that you enjoyed WBT! I really loved writing it! I’m also always willing to write more about it (I want to write more about it too). This ask actually inspired two one-shots? I’m not going to post the second one yet (I want to finish some other requests first) but I hope you like this first one. I was actually playing with some ideas about writing some more for the au and your comment pushed me to do it, so thank you! I hope you enjoy this!

Asmo remembered his first girlfriend finding out about him. Part of him had always known about his own affections, but it still made him nervous to tell her. She’d seemed so accepting, so supportive. But Asmo quickly regretted the decision. She’d already had a jealous streak. He knew this, and this just seemed to make her lash out at anyone that even dared to look at Asmo in the halls, including his best friend. It started out as little things that could be excused as accidents, but then Solomon’s number had been blocked on his phone.

The only reason that they’d started dating in the first place was because they were in similar social circles. She was cute, Asmo was cute, it made sense. He’d been interested at first, but the more he learned about her personality, the less interested he became. Despite how perfect they may have looked to their peers, they clashed on more subjects than they agreed on.

Their breakup had been ugly, Asmo wouldn’t deny that.They’d gone back and forth fighting about little things that didn’t matter in the long run.

He’d thought it was over, until he’d seen Solomon’s vandalized locker.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, a sickness stirring in his stomach. The two of them stayed after school to try to fix whatever damage they could. There had been horrible notes, drinks thrown onto his text books, lipstick smeared over his notes. Asmo would have thought he would’ve been the target of her anger, but unfortunately this didn’t surprise him.

“You aren’t responsible for her actions.”

“But she’s obviously still hostile because of me.”

“Stop blaming yourself, you didn’t ruin my locker.” Solomon let out a huff and pushed more sludge into a trash can, “You can’t fix her attitude.”

True but Asmo still felt bad. Things were quiet for a moment as Asmo tried to escape his guilt as he slipped paper towels in between the pages of Solomon’s notes. She’d been flooding his comments, but he didn’t think she’d ever do something like this once they broke up…

He felt Solomon nudge him with his foot, bringing his attention back up. “If you still really feel bad, you could invite me for dinner. You said Lucifer was cooking right?” he smiled.

Was it simple? Yes. Did it make Asmo feel a little better and maybe even steal a laugh from him? Also yes.

His ex had gotten a new boyfriend eventually. Not that Asmo cared.

Every now and again they would still hiss at each other in the hallway. They’d gotten into a few more fights, mainly over Solomon, and each time Solomon had been the one to pull Asmo away. He hadn’t handled it the best he could have, but it was in the past now. It happened. He didn’t really remember when it all stopped. Eventually they had just sizzled out, going from a raging fire to nothing but smoke and ash.

********

Solomon had just gone home from dropping his assignments off. He promised he’d come back tomorrow, but only if Asmo wanted him too. Asmo had nodded, eyes still red and pillow stained with tears. He genuinely didn’t know what he’d do without Solomon.

As soon as he was gone, Asmo was left alone with his thoughts again. He knew Solomon had to go home, but he wished he didn’t have to. He didn’t want to be alone. He should go back to school, he really should, but he wasn’t sure if he could bring himself to see his ex. He sobbed into his pillow, gripping it tightly, feeling the fabric become cold beneath his cheeks. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t understand. There wasn’t a reason.

He did everything he could. He made himself pretty, he got him the sweetest gifts he could think of, listened to him, cleared his schedule for him… Maybe it still hadn’t been enough. Maybe he could have done more, tried harder. He could have made himself prettier in the mornings or been a little more adoring. Now that it was over, Asmo was making a list of things he could have done better, but it was too late.

He could still remember the last conversation they had and how the bile rose in his throat.

“We need to break up.”

The words had caught Asmo off guard. Everything had seemed to be going fine. They’d never talked about any problems. As far as Asmo had known, they’d been a perfectly happy couple. They did everything happy couples were supposed to do. Asmo did everything a perfect boyfriend was supposed to do.

“But why?” he’d asked, voice already catching in his throat.

“Just ‘cuz Asmo.”

“But-”

“Just. ‘Cuz. Don’t make me spell it out for you.”

Asmo had been snapped at. Asmo hated being yelled at. It made his throat tighten and his body freeze. This wasn’t how this was supposed to be.

“You’re not dumb. You know why.”

But Asmo didn’t know why!

“Wait-”

“I need to go.”

Asmo could feel the mascara running down his face and taste it on his tongue, “Please don’t.”

“Lose my number Asmo.

Then Asmo had been alone. No reason. No explanation. He was just alone sobbing on the sidewalk, looking for an answer he would never get.

He’d been humiliated and broken and he wasn’t sure how to feel. Honestly, he probably would have stayed crying on the sidewalk if Solomon hadn’t found him.

He didn’t want to be alone. He wished Solomon didn’t have to head home.

His door cracked open ever so slightly, and footsteps crossed his room.

“There was ice cream left over in the freezer,” Lucifer seemed a bit awkward, as if he wasn’t sure what to say. He knew Asmo had been broken up with, but he wasn’t exactly sure what to say. It seemed like calling his ex some… choice words had been the wrong decision as Asmo had only cried even harder, defended his ex, and started to blubber about it being all his fault. From there Solomon had taken over and ushered Asmo upstairs.

He’d caught bits and pieces.

I wasn’t good enough.

I wasn’t pretty enough.

I didn’t love enough.

I wasn’t perfect enough.

Lucifer heard a few other things, but all of these little untruths did nothing but make him angry. He knew his brother, and he knew none of those things were true. He’d seen Asmo interact with his partners, and he did nothing but love them. Perhaps he was a little biased, but he didn’t care.

Asmo sniffled and lifted his head. Ice cream didn’t sound too bad… He wasn’t sure how much of it he could eat, but it was a good breakup food. He sat up a bit and moved closer to his brother. The container was partially full and had brownie chunks mixed in. He leaned against Lucifer’s shoulder and sniffled.

They sat there in silence, Asmo wondering why he wasn’t good enough and Lucifer knowing he deserved better.

********

Lucifer was already tense. He could hear the rising voices from the living room. The couple clearly thought they were home alone. Voices rising in the heat of the moment, growing until they reached their inevitable crescendo.

Lucifer saw the slap before he heard it.

A hand brought down onto Asmo’s face. Eyes wide and full of hurt, shock, and embarrassment as tears welled and slowly overflowed onto the floor. He didn’t see Lucifer. It didn’t matter if Lucifer had met the man in his house before this moment. Now he was a stranger, and intruder. He was violating their space, and would be treated as such.

Before he could disgrace Asmo furthur, Lucifer’s hands were dug into his collar and slamming him harshly against the wall. His vision was clouded with red, lips pulled back in a snarl. Bloodlust clouded his mind.

“How dare you lay a hand on him,” he snarled, grip tightening around his collar, “You have no right to hurt him in any way.”

“Wh-”

“None.”

Lucifer vaguely felt the tugging on the back of his clothes, Asmo’s voice no more than a bug flying in his ear. He dropped the man, making sure he stayed between him and his brother. The fear that Lucifer saw would have been satisfying if not for the situation.

“Leave. If I ever catch you in my home again I will be the last thing you see.”

The man bolted out of the house, Cerberus barking as the door slammed behind him. Lucifer couldn’t relax even with his brother’s soon to be ex gone. His blood was boiling, and Asmo was squirming under his gaze.

Asmo didn’t think Lucifer was home, he hadn’t thought anyone was home. It was the only reason his boyfriend had wanted to come over in the first place, he wasn’t a big fan of Lucifer or any of Asmo’s brothers really. It was a red flag, one Asmo had seen in the distance. He thought that would resolve over time. Apparently he was wrong.

“He’s not welcome in this family,” Lucifer growled, “No one is to treat you like that.”

Understood?

Lucifer’s tone made Asmo’s skin crawl. He was still trying to process what had happened. His cheek stung, and his eyes were watering. What had they been fighting over? He couldn’t remember. Were they even fighting or had they just started yelling?

Asmo couldn’t help but shrink into himself.

“Yes.”

His words were soft and barely audible. His mind couldn’t even think about texting Solomon. Where would he even begin?

Lucifer paced around the living room for a moment, muttering to himself. He sounded almost animalistic, so unlike Lucifer. It scared him, the entire situation sent Asmo into a spiral and he wasn’t sure where to go from here. He flinched when Lucifer touched him, and seeing that seemed to make his anger flare again.

Lucifer stared at the mark that started to mar Asmo’s skin before shaking his head and heading off into the kitchen. He returned shortly after and pressed a cold ice pack to Asmo’s face. Hours of silence ticked by.

Lucifer wanted to press charges.

Lucifer wanted to go after him himself.

Lucifer wanted to bury him deep in the ground with the rest of the spineless worms.

Asmo told him not to.

They’d fought about it for a few days, and the relationship had continued for a little longer after that. But eventually, both the argument and the relationship ended.

*********

Lucifer had been looking over one of his cases when Barbatos paged him down. Something about someone wanting to talk with him. While he’d never admit it, his mind hadn’t been focused on his work lately. Something was going on with his brothers, specifically Asmodeus. He’d seemed unusually twitchy and eager up until recently. Now he wouldn’t come out of his room, and he could hear him sniffling.

Diavolo’s booming laugh bounced off the walls and was the first thing Lucifer heard before he saw anyone. Perhaps Diavolo wanted to take the three of them out to lunch again, where Lucifer would then continuously have to check the time and remind Diavolo about PDA as well as Barbatos’ presence.

However, when Lucifer came to Barbato’s desk, he saw a third person that he wasn’t expecting.

Solomon looked a little frazzled underneath his normally cool composure. He stood stiffly next to Barbatos as Diavolo chattered away. Luciferer spied something pink clasped between fidgeting fingers.

Barbatos was the first to notice Lucifer’s presence. He made his way over to his side and glanced over towards Solomon and Diavolo.

“He seems nervous.”

“I noticed.”

“What do you think it’s about?”

Lucifer hesitated, thinking over his options. Well, he had one idea. If he was correct, it would certainly make everything else fall into place much easier.

“I guess we’ll have to find out won’t we?”

Solomon smiled as he saw Lucifer approaching, causing Diavolo to turn around with a wide grin on his face.

“Lucifer!” Diavolo chirped, moving closer. He went in for a kiss, but Lucifer stopped him.

“Later. We have company,” he smiled, patting his boyfriend’s pouting cheek before turning to Solomon. “It’s good to see you Solomon, it’s been a while since we’ve had you at our dinner table.”

“Ah, well, Asmodeus and I have both been busy. We’ve been spending a lot of study time over at my apartment,” he said. Then a small silence stretched on. Solomon looked down at the pink envelope in his hands for a moment and sucked in his breath, “I was actually wondering if you could give something to him.”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. He could feel Diavolo and Barbatos behind him, their intrigue was palpable. Lucifer would be lying if he said he also wasn’t curious about what Solomon had to say. “And why can’t you just give it to him yourself?” he asked.

Solomon stopped for a moment, eyes glancing down at the envelope before smiling.

“Well, I’ve been hiding them in secret and leaving them anonymous, so what fun would it be to just give it to him?”

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and Solomon’s face fell.

“He also hasn’t been answering my texts,” he admitted, “I just need him to meet me in the park tonight. I-”

Diavolo’s eyes lit up, “Oh Lucifer! I didn’t realize your brother had a boyfriend, and one with such romantic ideas at that.”

Solomon’s face lit up red and his eyes shifted to the side. So, there was something going on between his brother and his brother’s childhood best friend. His memories flashed to Asmo’s exes, the things they’d put him through, the pain they’d caused him. He didn’t want Asmo to live through any of that again, he didn’t want things to go wrong and he certainly didn’t want his brother to go through more heartbreak.

“What if I just told him? You’ve been sending him letters for a while, why not just get it over with?” Lucifer asked.

Diavolo cut in before Solomon could even give his argument. “Lucifer, why don’t you indulge him?” he asked, “You mentioned that Asmodeus loved romantic things like this. Plus it’s adorable. He’s made this elaborate little plan just for Asmodeus.”

Lucifer hesitated for a moment, thinking his decision over, eyes glued to the envelope. It did seem very… Asmodeus, but could he trust this little romance to not leave Asmodeus crushed? It was a gamble with his brother’s happiness, and the stakes were high.

“It does seem like something Asmodeus would enjoy,” Barbatos cut in, nodding towards the letter, “Plus, you can trust him with his own heart.”

But could he really?

A few more minutes ticked by, Lucifer played with his thoughts. Perhaps he had still been soured by his brother’s last boyfriend. The man hadn’t really left a good impression, and Lucifer didn’t want to see Asmo in that situation again. Asmodeus deserved to thrive and to be loved and cherished. He just wanted what was best for him.

“Alright, I’ll give it to him,” he decided. Solomon’s grin returned as he handed the envelope over. “But,” Lucifer continued, “You’d better treat him well, regardless of what happens. I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting him.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Solomon smiled, “I promise I’ll take care of him.”

***********

It was late, but Lucifer couldn’t fall back asleep. He picked up his phone to look at the time.

Three am.

How was Asmodeus doing? Surely he and Solomon had gotten to their suite a while ago. Maybe he should give him a call.

Turning onto his side, Lucifer propped himself up and stared at his husband for a moment. Diavolo was curled up on his side, softly snoring away. He wasn’t the most graceful sleeper, but it was still endearing in a way. It was still wonderfully Diavolo.

Kissing Diavolo’s cheek, Lucifer grabbed his phone before heading downstairs. It rang once. Then twice. He wondered for a moment if his brother would even pick up when a tired voice answered.

“Lucifer?”

“Hello Asmodeus,” Lucifer smiled, “Did you arrive alright?”

“Mmm, give me a second, we just… got to sleep.”

There was shifting on the other side of the line, followed by a second voice. It was slightly muddled, but Lucifer knew who it was.

“I’ll be right back Darling… It’s my brother… No no, not Mammon…. Yes Lucifer.... Go back to sleep, I’ll be back soon.”

There were a few other noises. Kisses perhaps? Then more shuffling and a door shutting.

“Sorry brother dearest, Solomon’s rather clingy when it comes to curling up, I’m lucky I was able to escape to the porch.”

He sounded happy. It made Lucifer’s body relax and a soft smile spread across his face. Asmodeus was in good hands, he was safe, he was going to be cared for. He still remembered how happy Asmo had been showing off his ring, and how much happier he looked at his wedding. It made him feel at peace, knowing he was loved.

“I assume you’re having a good time then?”

“Oh yes, all the unpacking is done, and we’re planning on going out and exploring tomorrow,” he chirped.

“You mean you haven’t explored yet?”

“We were unpacking!”

“Unpacking doesn’t take that long Asmodeus.”

“Buuuuuuusssssyyyyyy,” Asmo sang, “Anyways, I’ll make sure to take lots of pictures tomorrow!”

“Good.”

I’m happy you found him.

Silence stretched between them for a moment. Lucifer could hear the ocean in the background.

“I should be getting back to bed, I have a wonderful husband waiting for me and a long day tomorrow.”

“Mmh, now that you mention it, I suppose I should be getting back to someone as well.”

I’m happy he makes you happy.

“Goodnight Lucifer, I love you!”

“Goodnight Asmodeus.”

Lucifer stared at the phone for a few moments more before going back to his bedroom where a warm bed and an adoring husband awaited him. Kissing Diavolo’s cheek once more, Lucifer settled back into bed, feeling his partner shift behind him.

Asmo looked up at the stars and took in the night air before wandering back inside. He barely had time to plug in his phone before Solomon was sucking him back into the bed and covering his skin with kisses. Honestly sometimes Asmo wasn’t sure what to do with all the love Solomon gave him, he doubted that he even deserved it at times. But as they laid together, Asmo knew that this was where he truly belonged. He’d finally found the one. Asmo had had good and bad partners come and go, but Solomon was the one who stayed.

#WBT #ruewrites #obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me solomon #obey me lucifer #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #solodeus #dialuci #soloasmo #asmosolo #asmodeus x solomon #diavolo x lucifer #angst #angst with a happy ending #tw minor violence #human!au #tw abuse

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scorpionwins · 3 years

Text

An AU where Archie's a ruthless villain who hates the Southside and FP, because FP left him, Fred, and Jug behind (let's say Fredsythe was married in this AU, but Gladys somehow convinced FP to leave his family in Riverdale for Toledo or smthg) and not only is his baby brother in love with a tall, beast of a boy southie fucker, but Moose, one of his closest friends, is also in a secret relationship with the tall fucker's best friend.

LIKE. ARCHIE IS A BOY, RIGHT? A bully, sure. It seems harmless (it's not. Reggie being forced into exile, having to give up his jacket and spot on the team, and shunned away to eat by the dumpsters, is not harmless.

Archie breaking into biology class with his posey in tow after the serpents transfer, that too wide, too friendly smile plastered on his cruelly handsome face staring at the three kids sitting tight in their chairs as dead snakes, stabbed, gutted, skinned, get thrown at their dissection trays , isn't harmless. It's a war declaration. One that no one takes seriously enough.)

Archie gains control over the school young; He's bigger than the other kids. Bigger, badder, meaner. Has a sharp mind, too cutting for someone so small, with enough knowledge to disguise it as innocence when he needs to.

"Fear and respect sleep together, you know, " he whispers to Cheryl. Bitchy, icy, insecurity filled Cheryl, on their first day of junior year, no Jason at her side. He must be hand in hand with Polly Cooper somewhere, and he's willing to bet his guitar it bothers the girl to the bone. "Stick with me. We're gonna run this nothing town."

Archie fits just right with the bulldogs; He wants to lead, not follow, thought. And Cheryl grows fangs of her own.

And they do; Unknown to Jughead, the only person besides his father Archie has love for, they do, and their rule is a glorious and brutal one.

Then Cheryl meets the tiny serpent girl with too much nerve to be considered smart. And things... Change.

"What do you mean I didn't make the team?! I was the best one there! "

She was. She was, and that's what makes Cheryl's skin crawl. "Evidently, we possess anonymous viewpoints of what 'best' means."

"... You're afraid of him, aren't you? Cheryl fucking Blossom, scared of one man."

Cheryl tenses, crimson lips tight. "Everyone is scared of Archie. But not me. This is not about fear,- I cried, and begged, and bled for this team. It happens to be the one thing in my life I have a pinch of control over. I won't endanger that just because of pretty Southside trailer trash not realizing she's aiming too her for such a laughable stature."

" ... You think I'm pretty?"

Cheryl doesn't dignify that with a response.

Unsurprisingly, Sweet Pea has a lot to say. "Northsiders are trouble. Falling for them is stupid, and we don't do stupid," the scowl on his face vanishes within minutes, as soon as he smiles and waves back to the dark haired boy following Cooper to the B&G. "What?"

Sweet Pea, who's torch of hatred he carries for Andrews burns so bright it could blind the sky, fell in love with his enemies' younger brother.

SP HAS NO IDEA WHAT TO DO, he envisioned a mini Archie; A spoiled, rotten little north side brat who acts like he owns the room. So he rehearsed, prepared himself to hear Andrews' voice from a different mouth when they first got paired up for a project.

But Jug is nothing like his big brother, from the dark of that fluffy, bouncy bed hair to his lithe stature, the elegant bed of his neck when he wanted to look Sweet Pea in the eye. He didn't have hazel eyes hiding hell in them, or a shark grin that raised hair from everywhere on the body.

No, - the boy is all small but scrappy, soft, dainty, if he dared used that word. He's got bright Bambi eyes, layered with a faint blue that steals the air from SP's lungs, and if given the opportunity, he won't ever shut up about those precious bunny teeth.

The fact that he has to keep the boy in the dark about Archie's cruelties cracks his heart. He doesn't know why. It just does. Maybe its because he understands hero worship. Maybe he's not ready for the other option.

Fangs and Moose, thought. Fangs and Moose break my heart.

They're young, and they're revounous for eachother, more than food or air. Fangs is hungry for the gentle eyed bulldog who towers over Archie but still bends down to get his hair ruffled, the only one there besides Sweet Pea's boy who doesn't sneer or looks with hatred.

Moose represses; Is what he knows. But the drumming in his chest when Fangs brushes hands with him in the crammed hallways refuses to be silenced, and the dryness in his mouth at every stolen glance and secret late night kisses won't be parched.

Its not enough. This is not the kind of love you can walk away from. So Moose doesn't.

The bulldogs have an exile ritual; Public. Ruthless. Stripping you of power, of humanity, of everything that makes you whole. It's a brutal spectacle, one that everyone must attend.

Cheryl makes sure Jughead doesn't. Sweet Pea makes sure FP does.

Moose, actual sunshine baby, with tears of heartache washing over his face, pushing his letterman jacket into Archie's chest. The redhead is stoned face, but his eyes are large, incredulous. Pleading, almost.

"You're either going to kill someone, or kill yourself, Arch. I don't want to be there to see it."

Archie's hand travels from its desperate grip on his friend's, - one of his BEST friend's,- wrist to fist Moose's hair. The strength is vulnerable. There's despair behind it.

"This is about the Southside. You're picking them over us," he whispers, pained. "You're picking that southie over me."

The taller between them gulps, teardrops slipping down his raised chin, proud, defiant. "... Yeah."

Archie framing Moose's face between his hands, steeling himself against the gentle pain in Moose's eyes, exploding at the violent tenderness in his captain's hold. "Your name will dissappear. Your worth will dissappear. And I want you to remember that I gave you a chance to walk away. You're dead at 10 pm."

Moose knows; He knows pain, and fear, and Fangs is worth all of them. That's the mantra echoing, when he arrows through the sea of students, all of them gazing downward.

GOD- ARCHIE. ARCHIE SLOWLY STAUNTERING IN MOOSE'S DIRECTION. LIKE IN THAT BULLDOGS VS SERPENTS FIGHT. "Come back," he's whispering. Hes begging, a quiet plea, a silent curse. "I'll forget about this. Come back to us. Please."

Moose's eyes find Fang's. Even drowned in sorrow, even cracked with raw pain, they're beautiful. His lips mouth 'I love you.'

"Do what you came here to do. It won't change my heart. Or my mind."

holy shit when Archie looks over at a SHATTERED Fangs, held back by Sweet Pea and Toni, his stomach coil in such a dark hatred, such a poisonous anger- he pours it all in the punch to Moose's jaw.

"You're gonna cry, hmm?" Archie growls, animalistic, more hell then boy, dishing thundering slaps to Moose in between his hisses."You gonna cry Moose, huh? Cry a bit. Cry for your fucking snake friend and his southie family."

FP BEING THERE- WATCHING HIS SON, HIS OLDSEST, THE SON HE LOVES SO MUCH, DO... THAT. AS a father, he's destroyed.

As a leader, he just. Watches Fangs, pure, good, strong, RIGHT Fangs, cling to Sweet Pea, fingers hooked so tightly into his best friends' jacket they pale. He yells ' they're killing him, sweet pea let me GO they're killing him, stop, STOP-' and FP realizes. On some degree, a bitter one, Tall Boy's words rang true.

At some point, they will have to hit back.

At the end of the ritual, Archie grips Moose's hair, fingers digging into his loose jaw. His friend is limp in his hands, probably unconscious, probably passed out.

He holds this maimed version of Moose, more corpse than boy, towards Fangs. He's so hateful. He knows, because Sweet Pea's disdain stares right back. " LOOK AT HIM! LOOK AT WHAT YOU MADE ME DO! YOU DID THIS," he laughs, a sad, hollow sound, bordering on manic. Half madness, half sob. "YOU DID THIS. NOT ME! NOT ANY OF US. YOU."

"THIS," He whips around, Moose swining in sort, making majority of them cringe in disgust, in unsettlment. They're terrified. Good. " IS WHAT THEY DO! THIS IS WHAT YOU'LL BECOME, IF YOU MIX WITH THEM!"

At the very end, Moose drops, but he's strong. He's so strong. He stays on his knees for it, not down. His face is drenched in blood and brushes and cuts, and he won't stand down.

Someone hesitantly hands the redhead a baseball bat, which he grabs, eager to end this, eager to leave. Archie hates the whole world.

"You can live up here with us," he can't tell if the wetness sliding down his cheek is rain or tears. Can't distinguish the wail of pain from Fangr or Reggie, as the bat leaves a punishing kiss on Moose's right cheek, putting him down for good. "Or die down there, like them."

In conclusion, I'm crying.

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waywardwrestlewritingwaif · 3 years

Text

A Fine Line

I've really enjoyed Sami Zayn's paranoid, obsessive belief that there is some sort of WWE conspiracy against him. I'm also kind of persuaded that the company has exhibited a prejudice against him for no reason. So that's where this story comes from.

Pairing: Sami Zayn x OFC

Word count: 2,972

Content advisory: smut and a major dereliction of duty by a professional in a position of power

You’ve come to dread visiting this place. It’s not that the neighborhood is so bad, although you always make sure to park your car in the monitored lot rather than on the street, even though it means you have to walk a couple of blocks. You’ve been in worse places.

But it’s started getting to you, these regular appointments that seem to be getting more and more alarming. He’s not well. It’s not your fault and it’s not really your business. You’re just the Health and Safety officer who’s been assigned to meet with him while he’s experiencing what the company calls a “stressful episode”. You’re just there to determine if he’s healthy enough, mentally and physically, to fight every week and to recommend a medical course of action if you think he’s slipping. Lately, though, you get the feeling that everything that you report is getting distilled down to one word: yes. Yes, he’s fit to work, because he understands who he is, what the job entails, and how to do all the moves he needs to so that no one gets hurt. The fact that for the last three weeks you’ve been saying that he needs a break to stave off any problems in the future seems not to have registered with anyone. So every time you come back here and talk about his health, you feel like you’re failing him. Worse, it feels like you’re being dishonest with him.

You step onto the landing at the back of the house where he rents his tiny apartment. He could afford better but, as he’s told you, he likes it here. He needs his money for other things. What things? He doesn’t like to specify. But he’s certain that there’s a time coming when he won’t be earning what he is now, when he doesn’t think he’ll be able to do this kind of work anywhere.

As usual, you knock twice in quick succession and then twice slowly. Yes, you have a secret knock to gain admittance to the home of the man who is officially fine to risk his life and the lives of others in a wrestling ring.

“Come in,” comes the answer from inside.

You squint as you enter the darkened apartment. All the blinds are pulled down and he’s even pushed towels along the window sills so that no light leaks through the bottom. You can make out his figure sitting cross-legged on the floor but that’s about it.

“Lock it behind you, please,” he says, his tone as polite as ever but firm.

You do as he wishes, engaging both locks before turning back to look at him. He reaches over and turns on a lamp that’s sitting near him. It’s not a lot of light but it allows you to see that he looks more or less the same, no visible signs of self-harm or weight loss. His eyes shift rapidly over you, around the room, towards the door, all over the place. They’re feverishly bright, which is never a good sign. Despite his yoga-like pose, he shows little signs of agitation: his fingers tap ceaselessly on his knee, he chews a little on his lip, and he blinks a lot.

There’s a thick, musky aroma to the place, not exactly unpleasant but animalistic, not something that belongs in an urban apartment.

“Hi Sami,” you say, sitting down on the small, uncomfortable sofa in front of him. You place your handbag on the floor and keep your hands flat on your knees where he can see them. You’re not hiding anything.

“Hello.”

“How are you feeling today?”

“I feel wonderful.”

“That’s good.”

He nods vigorously. “I feel like I’m finally putting everything together.”

“How do you mean?” You hate it when he’s like this. On a selfish level, it means that he’s probably going to talk at you for three hours about the conspiracies against him and the enemies he’s made, and you’ll end up stuck in your office until eight or later parsing through your notes, trying to figure out what’s germane to an evaluation of his health.

“Did you see my match?”

“I saw some of it,” you answer guiltily. Wrestling is not your thing and you shouldn’t need to watch the product, which is fictional, in order to understand the very real health of your clients. But with Sami, it’s different. The divide between real and imaginary is fuzzy in his head and that makes it as real as the furniture in this room as far as his mental health is concerned.

“It looked really good.” You try to sound enthusiastic.

“I lost,” he grumbles.

“I know. Has that been hard on you?”

“It’s what I expected. That’s what the people want.”

“What people?”

“The people! The fans. The ‘WWE Universe.’” He waves his hands and smirks as he says those last two words and you do have to admit that it sounds pretty dumb. He sees your lips twitch in amusement and smiles. “All those weird little faces on screens.”

“They weren’t faces on screens last week, though.”

“No, they were real. Or what passes for real.”

“You don’t think those were real people watching you?”

“They were the chosen ones. The ones that the people in charge wanted to be there. It’s not like it used to be. It’s all controlled. Only people they’re certain about get to see what’s going on. You see what they want you to see.”

He’s getting irritable, you can tell, something which always makes you nervous. He’s never gotten violent or threatening with you, not even close. He’s raised his voice and paced around and that’s been stressful enough. He’s not huge like some of the guys he works with but he’s strong and when he gets upset you can see the muscles beneath his skin. If he turned on you, you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself.

What’s truly horrible is that whenever he does start to get riled up, there’s a part of you that feels a little excited by it. It’s the worst thing that you could be thinking about a client, the most hideous betrayal of your ethics. But there’s something about him, all that energy and intelligence, misdirected though it may be.

“That’s what entertainment is, though,” you counter. “The people producing it always control what the audience sees.”

“Entertainment,” he hisses.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that in an insulting way. I know you’re an athlete.”

“No, I am an entertainer. I’m both. But when they say it they mean I’m there for their entertainment. They mean that I’m to do what they tell me. I did this for years and I could come up with my own stories and use my own ideas. I can’t do that anymore. They won’t let me. They’re scared of what I’d do.”

“Has anyone said that to you?”

He laughs mirthlessly. “No one says that to you. No one says anything real, ever. It’s all ‘we think you should do it this way’ or ‘we think this is a good plan for you’. No one tells you what they’re actually thinking. You have to dig it out, you have to look for it behind what they say and then you discover what it is they’re really up to.”

“And what is it that they’re up to as far as you’re concerned?”

He glares at you and leans back a little.

“Why don’t you tell me? You’re the one they’re paying to interrogate me every week.”

“You think this is an interrogation?”

“Isn’t it?”

It’s obvious that this is devolving into childishness. Every time you’re here, it happens at least once but it usually takes you longer to trip up and give him a reason to shut you out.

“I’m sorry, Sami. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was… I want you to be able to trust me, to feel like you can talk to me. Yes, I work for the company but my job, what I trained to do, is keeping people healthy. That’s all I ever wanted to do. Do you believe me?”

“It’s a nice thought. You seem nice.”

You smile, projecting all the warmth and kindness you can muster.

His expression grows suspicious again. “But it’s still them sending you here. Maybe they don’t tell you what to say or what information you’re supposed to be getting from me. Maybe they just figure that they can send this sexy woman over to act like my friend and I’ll forget about everything they’re trying to do to me.”

“I’m not here to be your friend, Sami. I’m here to see if I can help you, professionally. I don’t want you to feel like I’m pretending to be something I’m not.” After a moment’s reflection, you add, “Thank you for the compliment, though.”

He chuckles a little. “Are you allowed to think that?”

“You mean, am I allowed to be complimented that I like hearing you say I’m sexy? I don’t know. But you know I’m flattered by it.”

He can’t deny that. He knows full well that you’ve developed a crush on him. He can see it in the way that you blush when he says nice things about you, and how happy you look when he opens up to you a little. It’s uncomfortable that he knows the power he has over you but it’s also helpful because he talks to you more easily than he would to others. He likes knowing that you’re a bit soft on him.

He leans back, propping himself on his elbows so that his shirt falls away from his chest. You’re used to him appearing with his shirt undone so that you can see a bit of his torso, but this is more of a display than you’re used to. You demurely cross your legs at the ankles and focus on meeting his restless eyes.

“What do they tell you to get from me when you come here?”

“They don’t tell me anything,” you insist. “I’m supposed to come here and determine if you’re able to fight or if you need to have some sort of therapy.”

“You mean like electroshock therapy,” he grunts.

“No, there are lots of different things I’d recommend before that. For instance, like I keep telling you, I wish you’d consider medication to help cope with this paranoia you feel about the company and what they have in mind for you.”

“Paranoia?” he snorts. “What does that mean again?”

“It means you have an unreasonable fear or anxiety regarding something.”

“So what’s the opposite of paranoia?”

“I don’t really know what you’re asking,” you stammer. “I guess it would be not living in fear. Or recognizing a real threat and reacting to it appropriately.”

“But there isn’t a word for that, is there?” he sighs. “Paranoia is an unreasonable fear. But there isn’t a nice, concise word for a reasonable fear.”

“No,” you concede, “I suppose there isn’t.”

“So if I feel like I’m being victimized by WWE, if I feel like they’ve prevented me from rising to the top of the company, you tell me that I’m being paranoid. But there’s no word for what I think if I’m right.”

It gets to you that he’s right. Everything that you’re supposed to be talking to him about is predicated on the idea that he’s imagining things, that he’s wrong about how the company has been treating him.

“I want to help you, Sami. That’s all I want, I swear. That’s what I’m trained for.”

“You’re a very nice person,” he says with an ironic grin. “I mean, you’re the sort of person they don’t give a lot of information to.”

You want to feel insulted by that but it’s also true: you know that your bosses tell you the least they can before they send you out to meet with talent. The real decisions are made well away from you. Making him believe that you can accomplish something for him involves having to convince him that you have some power, but you’re not sure you’re in any position to do that.

Sami leans forward, amber eyes fixed on yours, and places his hands on your knees.

“What do they tell you to do with me?”

“They don’t tell me anything. They just tell me to talk to you. And you shouldn’t be doing that.”

As you’ve spoken, Sami has pushed your legs apart and has started planting kisses along your thighs. He looks up at you with a petulant expression before pushing his face deeper, breathing hot and quick against your panties, licking at them until they’re as wet on the outside as they are on the inside.

Sami, we can’t be doing this,” you pant, crying out as he sucks against the fabric hard, making your clit quiver.

“Why not?” he hums. “You want it. I want it.”

He presses two fingers roughly inside you, stroking that spot inside you that makes you scream and thrash against him, seeking release. Even with your panties still on, just feeling him lick and suck at you through the cotton barrier, you come with a force you can’t remember experiencing ever. He keeps pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy as you continue to spasm around him, trembling for long minutes until you’re too overwhelmed and have to shove his hand away because you’re so sensitive that any contact hurts.

“Think about it,” he whispers, pulling himself on top of you, “They send you here to look at me and make sure that I’m good enough to fight, to make money for them. They send you in here with the idea in your head that I’m being irrational, that I’m imagining things.”

He grips your face in his hands, staring into your eyes as he pulls your panties away and thrusts his cock into you. It’s true what he says, you think as he starts to move, although all thought is quickly supplanted by pleasure, by the feeling of him stroking at your g-spot and grunting softly as he fucks you. You simply lock eyes with him and let yourself be overwhelmed by their earnestness and honesty. No one at your job as ever looked as convinced of anything as he does staring into you as you both come together, yelping and gasping, then shaking and clinging to each other as you come down from your highs.

“Do they listen to anything you tell them about me?” he murmurs, gathering you close to him and caressing your face.

You tilt your head back, moaning a little and exposing your throat to him, an invitation he accepts, sucking hard at the flesh. It’s true that no one pays attention to what you say, least of all about him. And it’s true that there does seem to be some sort of weird block they have against pushing Sami and some others to the heights they deserve. You aren’t ready to tell him that but the look in his eyes when he meets your gaze tells you that he doesn’t have any doubt what you’re thinking.

“What else do you have on your schedule this afternoon?” he whispers.

“You’re my only plan.”

“So spend some time with me.” He pushes his head against yours, thrusting his tongue into your mouth so quickly it takes you a second to adjust and respond, passionately kissing him back, whimpering and moaning to let him know how much you’re enjoying it.

“I’m really not supposed to do this,” you gasp.

“I know there’s a part of you that believes me,” he pants, letting his detumescent prick slide out of your body. “I can tell you don’t think I’m crazy because I think they’re trying to keep me down. Whatever they sent you here to do, I know that all you want is to end up with what’s right. So I say, this is right. Let’s do what we really want and figure other stuff out later.”

“I don’t know. This is a pretty huge breach of conduct for me. Even if I do think you might be onto something.”

He draws a finger lightly along the edge of your bottom lip.

“If you think I’m onto something, maybe you should stay and figure out if you think I’m worth believing.”

Hours later, you’re in his bed, gripping the sheets with all your might. He’s kneeling, hands dug into your hips so hard that you know there will be bruises before he even lets go. He’s pounding into you with the force of a jackhammer, lifting you so that every movement strokes your g-spot until you convulse around him, screaming his name, your orgasm triggering his own.

You can’t remember how many rounds you’ve had. Your body is like one giant pulsing nerve, quivering uncontrollably as he pulls out of you while pressing his thumb firmly against your clit.

“So do you still think I’m crazy?”

You no longer know what you should think of him. Whatever he’s done, you’ve done far worse. So are you even in a position to judge him? Thinking about what your superiors take from your reports, is there any reason to believe that they have a better grip on the situation than he does?

“I think you’re pretty stressed,” you murmur, pulling him close so that you can nuzzle your face against his. “I think that both of us could do with a break from this company.”

The two of you kiss again, passionately, excitedly, gripping each other as if you were the only stable things in the universe.

Professionally, you’ve done something unforgivable. But perhaps it’s something that will be understandable in the long term. Perhaps you’ve chosen to be on the right side.

#sami zayn #wrestling imagine #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #wayward wrestle writing

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xxkellsvixen19xx · 3 years

Text

Merry-Go-Round Colson Baker X Reader

A/N: wrote this fic in 2019 with a different character revised it using Colson of course also changed up original title it was Addicted. Note there is drug use, overdose and death involved so this could be triggering for some. Might want to have tissues handy cause it's sad folks!

Warnings: drug use, overdose, death & smut

Word Count: 3,248

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐛𝐛𝐲’𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐲

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲, 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝

𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧

𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐨 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝...

Y/N looked on in mute horror. Horror was something she had not felt before in her life. There he was, almost catatonic, a look of aloof disinterest on his otherwise flawless and beautiful face. In his left hand a small bottle was loosely clutched, open, contents scattered upon the ground below. His hair was dishevelled, his upper body unclothed, a trail of saliva dripping from his slightly-parted mouth onto his chest. His unblinking gaze stared at something beyond focus, something only he was seeing.

What what happened? She asked in a cautious whisper. She gently plucked the small bottle out of his hand, realising he had overdosed. Purposely overdosed. What could have happened to drive Colson to such reckless, illogical behaviour? What drove this normally calm and deliberate person to such an abrupt, impromptu act? What demanded such drastic and permanent release?

It was too late. She knew it was too late. Not knowing what to do for such circumstances normally, Y/N only looked on helplessly, slowly crouching down by his side. She tentatively reached out and touched his bare shoulder.

Cold both her fingertips and his skin. The two of them were both abnormally cool-blooded, he had penetrating and yet distant blue eyes, tattooed skin and fine features. And yet he was colder than was normal for the two of them.He gave her no response, didn’t register her presence.

Taking a firmer grip, she shook him gently, knowing he wouldn’t respond. He lost the balance from his precarious position, haphazardly propped against a fallen chair. His right arm, previously draped across a side of the chair, smacked the ground with a sickeningly final thud. She caught his head against her chest, his head lolling down and to the side as if he wanted to suck on her breast. He was heavier than she remembered. She couldn’t think of why this could be.

She cradled him, rocking back and forth slightly. A tightness grew in her stomach and throat, a cold shiver ran down her spine. Her breath was suddenly shaky and her mouth grew dry. A tear froze as it formed at the corner of her eye, falling and shattering upon impacting against the colder-still floor. “Colson… please please wake up,” she stated desperately.

She closed her mind thinking back to the first time they had met, both of them were junkies it seemed to be one of the few things that kept them together asides from the sex. They may have had a toxic relationship but like a moth to a flame she was drawn to him and she kept coming back for more.

2 years ago...

‘I need it so badly, and I need to see him, be near him.’

I want to find another dealer, but I can't bring myself to look. I just keep coming back.

I love him. I don't know if he knows it, but I do. With all of my heart.

I took my first fix to impress him. I don'tt care that I’m an addict; it gives me an excuse to see him.

And I do see him. Almost every day.

I let myself fall into the delusion that he loved me too, at first. When we met, in a bar, he gave me some crack. I liked it, of course, and he told me where I could see him and get more.

At first he just scared me, but gradually I started to look forward to going to see him to see him, as well as to get my fix.

I was a virgin. One night I gave that to him, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me. But when I woke up the next morning, he handed me about three weeks worth and told me I’d earned it all. I slapped him, but he just laughed and said he’d see me soon.

I held off the stuff for about a week, and then I couldn't do it anymore. It was even better than it had been the first time around.

When I ran out I went back to him, same as I always had before, with my money in my backpack.

He smirked, and told me I didn't need to give him any money, looking my body over knowingly. I was so tempted to do it. “Are you brave Y/N?” He asked me not taking his eyes off of mine. I looked at him nervously “why do you ask?” My stomach was tied in knots an excited feeling rushed through my veins.

“You want some of this?" He held up the small baggie to my eyes, which contained a fairly sized black hunk of something. I didn't have to ask him to know what it was.He had the sexiest face when he was offering you drugs, a straight, poker face, with a little smirk that just screamed "Come on, you know you want to,". I chewed at my bottom lip contemplating it for a moment. "Come on, it's the greatest feeling ever. I'll shoot it for you and everything, I guarantee you won't be able to move for the next hour, I swear. It's the best, no lie." Colson urged me.

I hesitated slightly, my heart thundering against my ribs. Everything in my brain was screaming 'NO! You idiot! Remember health class?' "Awh hell, off to the races!" I said, laughing, and instantly feeling a rush of anxiety. Colson laughed, "Yeah, you want this," and then he pulled out a spoon from his pocket, breaking off a chunk of the black tar heroin and setting it in the spoon to melt it down. He was always so cocky, but it suited his personality.

My stomach was starting to feel funny from all the adrenaline pumping though my body as he patiently turned the black mass into a liquid; I hadn't felt this antsy since the last time we were tweaking out on shards. I couldn't believe I was about to do this; one hit and I could be addicted.

𝙎𝙤 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙮 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤 𝙞𝙩 𝙘𝙖𝙢𝙚

𝙉𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙝𝙖𝙙 𝙖 𝙨𝙞𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩

𝙉𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙩 𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙥𝙤𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙨𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙮 𝙬𝙚𝙩 𝙞𝙩

Before I knew it, Colson had taken a hold of my left wrist and was holding my arm out straight, tapping against the main vein in my elbow until it was raised and throbbing.

"You're gonna want to look away for this," he said, as he held up a small syringe he'd filled with the drug. "This is gonna be like nothing you've ever felt before."

I smiled, and said "Hell yes," before I looked up into his eyes. He met my gaze, his blue eyes distracting me from where the needle was going. I felt the pinch, and winced slightly.

“You're ok, you will be ok Y/N," he said, he smiled, still staring into my eyes. "Eyes right here."

𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝, 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬 “𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐲?”

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐬 “𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲?!”

I stared back, smiled, and felt the needle being withdrawn from my arm. I exhaled slowly, wondering when it was supposed to take effect--

The rush of euphoria you get from shooting up heroin is unlike anything else. You could be going through horrible withdrawals, but after you see that red cloud of blood erupt in the syringe, you’ll feel like you're on top of the world in seconds. You feel weightless, and warm, and safe.

“How you feeling Y/N?" Colson asked, getting down to my level to look me in the eye, his smirk setting my nerve endings on fire. ‘fuck why is it that his smirk damn near destroys me?’ I thought to myself. I tried to speak, but my mouth wasn't working with my brain...or, my brain wasn't working with my mouth. Actually, I don't think my brain was working at this point at all, it was all just too slow. Even my tongue felt heavy.

It seemed like a long time passed, I heard Colson opening up the small baggie once again, heard the lighter click to life, closed my eyes and felt my breathing, watching the colors dance past my eyes as I heard him hiss from the needle, heard the THUMP as he hit the floor.

A few moments had passed then I saw Colson get up from the floor, and plop down onto the end of the bed, smiling and looking down at me. I looked back up at him, and in my mind a vague feeling was starting to swim around, to spark to roaring life amidst the haze that I was feeling everywhere else.

“You feelin' good?" He asked, tilting his head and grinning at me in the way he always did after witnessing me getting fucked up in some way or another. A grin that said, 'Now that's what I'm talking about', before always asking the same question; You feeling good?

I tried to wrap my mind around how I was feeling, to grasp at how hot it was starting to feel between my legs, how when I arched my back upward I wanted something to be there, to be in the space between my legs, in the heat and the wet, to fill me up, make me moan.

And without really meaning to, I did moan. I let out a low, hungry growl, closing my eyes and allowing my head to fall backward.

Colson chuckled, a low, almost animalistic sound. “Y/N...you want to fuck don't you?" I didn't respond, merely laid there, eyes still closed, feeling my head fall to the side, my nose against my right bicep. It was so hot, I could hear myself panting, feel it in my breasts as they rose and fell with my breath.

"Yeeeeeaaaaahh, you wanna fuck," I heard Colson say, his words long and drawn out. "You're so horny right now it's driving you out of your Goddamn mind, isn't it?"

I heard myself moan again, still unable to think my way out of the warm cloud that had settled over my body. All I knew was that I wanted a dick, a hard, long, thick dick, shoved into my pussy, and I wanted it now. I gave a small growl of frustration, arching my back upward again.

Colson takes hold of my wrist all of a sudden, forcing me to still. Then he lowers my arm, meeting my stare in the dimness of lamplight shining from a table. “You look like you have somethin’ you wanna say, Miss Y/N.” I bite the inside of my cheek. “Do I?” “Yeah. Do you?” “I – I.” I was unable to formulate a complete sentence. God he’s beautiful. I’m mesmerized. Enthralled. Captivated. Whatever this emotion of want is.

His blonde hair dusts across his forehead. Glazed in a sheen of sweat.“Oh…” I’m at a loss for words, so awestruck. He begins undressing himself,His hands are on his belt, undoing the buckle. His trousers sag some, slipping down his waist.I close the distance between us, pushing aside his trembling hands to use mine. I undo his belt then unfasten the button of his trousers, letting them fall around his ankles.

Colson looks at me he holds my face in his big, calloused hands. “You can’t be real.” “No?” “No. You have to just be some illusion I’ve thought of. You’ll disappear soon.” “I don’t think I’m leaving, Colson,” I confess, voice breathless. His touch is like fire, letting me feel that more than I desire.

I flush with heat, taking in the truth that he’s naked now. Naked. In front of me.“You wanna join, darlin’?” “J – Join?” He gently traces his fingertips across my arm I can't help but shiver “yeah you look cold guess even angels need warmth, huh?” he narrowed his gaze on me, he stretches out an arm to grab my wrist. He pulls me into him, sitting up to hold me in his strong arms. Heat blooms all over my skin as he embraces me from behind, sensations I had thought I lost or maybe never realized I had.

He makes it seem like I have nothing to be afraid of. Nothing to do but relent, to surrender and release the tension I’ve been holding in. His breath warms my ear, tousling strands of hair. He moves closer, pinning me to the wall. I hold in all the breath I can as his scent overwhelms me, musk and oil and smoke. He has one arm over my head, bracing his position over me. His other hand rests near my abdomen, hovering over his shirt that I have on. His blue gaze doesn’t leave mine. “Can I touch you?” I blink, dark lashes fanning out tears. “I – I’ve never been touched like this.” “Never?” “No.” 'sure we had had sex before but this moment seemed different electrified. This was the first time he even really touched me at least like this… so soft, so sensual.

“You – You don’t have to.” I managed to stutter out awkwardly. “I can. You look like you want me to. You have for a while. It doesn’t have to be more than this, and I don’t mind doin’ it for you.” His touch is like fire, as before. That tingling that I hunger for. The licks of heat over my skin sets my nerve endings on fire. His rough fingers slither over my slit, forcing me to let out a muffled noise as I shudder. “Want me to stop?” “No. No. More… do more.”

He pushes closer, leaving no space amid us. His teeth sink into my throat, biting sensitive areas I didn’t know I wanted to be bitten. I arch my back, bending a little as he presses a knee between my thighs.He rubs, for a few minutes. Stroking. Caressing.He nibbles my neck, the muscle that runs down to my shoulder. His shirt falls off of me some, slipping off the shoulder his mouth is on. I rest my palms on his tatooed chest, nails scratching over his skin. He hisses then sucks beneath my ear, licking his tongue back and forth. “Oh, Colson,” I moan my breath becoming more rapid making me almost dizzy.

He parts me with his fingers, rubbing the warm slick that’s dripping out of me. “God, Y/N. You moan like an angel.” He pushes one thick digit into me, then another. Stretching me, he thrusts in and out at a slow pace. I fall into a haze of bliss, drowned in the blazing sensations that wash over me. I move my hips in time with his hand, finding a tempo with him. A blinding crescendo rises and rises. Hotter. Brighter. ”I’m so close, so close –” Then the flat of his thumb circles over my clit and I scream, coming undone.

This was an all new heightened sensation, and throughout our relationship it seemed the more we experimented with different drugs the more the sexual connection we had seemed to get more and more intense. Hell we were just as addicted to the sex as much as the drugs. To be honest I think we tried just about everything, Crystal meth, shrooms, coke, mollies you name it then most likely we had tried it. But it seemed like nothing was enough, another fix needed to keep the euphoric rush going. Each time more and more it seemed like he needed, like a junkie he couldn't seem to get enough. But it seemed heroin was always his vice, his ultimate fix of choice.

Being on heroin is akin to being in a toxic relationship. You start off knowing you're playing with fire, but you tell yourself it’ll be casual and you have more will power than to let yourself fall into addiction. Unfortunately, the pull of heroin is stronger than you, and by the time you realize you’ve lost control, you already lost it a long time ago. This kind of end was not for the likes of him. In one long continuous movement she eased him to the ground, laying him on his back and lovingly straddled him. She had one hand pressed against his cold chest, the other gripping the handle of the blade. Her hand wavered a little as it hovered above his chest. She glanced away, eyes a little misted by tears that were unaccustomed to forming, and thus shy of coming out.

Die by the blade, she whispered barely audibly. He never was much of a fighter she was the warrior of unparalleled potential of the two of them and yet she believed, she knew, that he wouldn't want it any other way either.

With one efficient movement, she plunged the blade neatly into his heart. She opened her eyes with a start, sharply glancing down at him as she felt a tensing beneath her and the slightest of hitched gasps. His eyes, free of the madness, clear of the haze, looked back at her with such a whirlpool of emotions and questions she nearly choked on a gasp of her own. She felt a new horror. A new kind of chill. She couldn't find her voice, and wouldn't have known what to say anyway. She looked back into his eyes, silently pleading.

“Colson Baker?”

Questioning turned to acceptant understanding, forgiveness, and finally to a slightly guilty apology. The corner of his lips twitched into the briefest of smiles, as if trying to reassure her that everything would be fine.

“L-love,you.”

His eyes glazed over again. This time he wouldn’t be waking up for her again. The crimson trickled over his skin and stained her sleeves and her skirts. Never had she made such a costly error of judgement.

𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫

Colson Baker died of an overdose. A plaque in his memory was put up, reading, “There is no substitute” Unfortunately for music fans, as well as the family and friends of the victims, too many singers have died before their time either directly or indirectly because of drug use and abuse.

Colson Baker

The raspy deep voiced rocker died at the age of 30, from a heroin overdose. Born Richard Colson Baker, but known as “Kells” to his friends and family, He is famous for some of the hit singles such as “Bloody Valentine,”My Ex's Bestfriend” “Forget Me Too,” “Concert For Aliens,” and his personal favorite, “Jawbreaker.” In 2020, Rolling Stone magazine ranked him #46 on their list of the 100 Greatest Artists of All Time.

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