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#might take me a while to get to answering old asks but feel free to drop into my inbox bc i've missed you all :')
capricores · 1 year
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getting asks makes me so happy, thank you guys for trusting my input and for taking the time to send asks!! 🥺💖
i have a feeling i'm going to be online quite often this week, so if anyone has any questions about astrology, spiritual stuff, healing, anything, i'm always here!! happy to answer asks about certain placements (ie: gemini moon traits, mutable dominance traits, etc), compatibility (taurus x scorpio sun compatibility), astrology topics (what do the planets mean, what are the houses, etc), take requests for posts (ie: what does saturn in the signs mean), etc!!! <3
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ozzgin · 6 months
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Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons
I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.
Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere
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You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”
Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”
He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.
The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."
Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.
"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."
As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.
"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"
He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.
The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.
He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.
"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."
He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.
He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.
Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.
The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.
He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.
After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.
His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.
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inkskinned · 2 years
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"the curtains weren't blue on purpose. why should we care?"
my love! let me ask you this - did you eat breakfast today? this tiny moment in your life. just think about it. did you?
for some of you, the answer is yes and for some of you it is technically and for some of you it is does coffee count. some of you reached for cereal or gmo-free overnight oats or frozen waffles or 3-day-old pizza. sometimes we eat the same thing, every day, for weeks. i get tired of eggs randomly, only to go back to craving them desperately. i'm cuban; i take my coffee like my father showed me, very milky and sweet.
some of us ate in a hurry. some of us hate eating breakfast but if we don't we will get nauseous later. some of us took our meds first or took our meds after. some of us have a kitchen 5 feet wide and sometimes it's the biggest room in the house. some of us are confident there will be food in the pantry and some of us flinch and say well, the paycheck is coming. some of us turn on a podcast while we eat or we scroll our phones or write in our diaries.
some of us are choosing, specifically, not to eat breakfast. some of us are too busy. some of us are pretending we "just forgot," but we are ignoring the warning signs that everything feels too-heavy. some of us are so consumed with anxiety or grief that we can't eat. some of us can't stand up long enough to make our coffee. some of us have no table to sit down and eat.
i cannot tell you what an artist "meant" by their choices. but they did have to make a choice, conscious or otherwise, to give you information. to give you a little bit more light. each of these choices are little stars of data; connecting speckles for you to weave through, drawing a line.
you cannot use a mirror in a dark room. for some of us; we will not care that the curtains are blue, because that will just be a data point and not enough light to see by. for some of us, the blue curtains will be the same as our childhood bedroom. it will make us seasick. for some of us, blue will be the color of frostbite. it might look like a pixel up close; but from a distance, oh! the picture blooms.
i cannot tell you what will stick out for you. what will carry meaning. some of you will read the sentence "i didn't have breakfast today" and say "this means nothing." some of you will read that and say "oh, me neither." some of you will say "this means the character is probably a little grouchy." some of you will say "oh, i wonder if they're okay. why didn't they eat anything?" ... art is a mirror. i am holding hands with you, over space and time, and asking you to feel something with me.
i want you to read my work and find a blue pair of curtains. i want you to read my work and find things in it that i never imagined placing. i have no way of knowing what will resonate with you, that's true. and maybe i just was hungry while i wrote this, and thinking about the eggs in my fridge. but if you found meaning, that meaning is yours. it cannot be erased just because i didn't "intend" it. you created a different world by interpreting my work. it's collaborative! that's beautiful! that's stunning!
just! imagine looking at the night sky and saying - it's stupid to have a favorite constellation or a favorite star. they're just there.
because here's the thing - across centuries and cultures, we look up. we still find meaning in the stars. these beautiful, lovely scattered accidents. are you looking? they call. and we look back and say oh! of course we are!
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corroded-hellfire · 24 days
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Even though it's wayyy off into the future - how about Eliza getting her first period and Y/N isn't there so "poor" Eddie has to deal with it
(I got my first period very early, like even though I knew what it was it was a big shock, and I was like 'I don't want this - mom, make it go away!', so I was thinking something like that)
As soon as I saw your request, the wheels in my brain started turning. This would not leave me alone until I got it all out lol. I hope you enjoy!
Words: 3k
Warnings: talk of periods, blood
[As You Wish masterlist]
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“Dad?” 
Eliza creeps out of the hotel bathroom, eyes on the dark gray carpeting as she approaches the queen-sized bed Eddie is lounging on. Without even looking up at her, Eddie can tell something is wrong. Not only is her voice shaky, but she called him “Dad” when, even at twelve-years-old, she still usually calls him “Daddy.” 
“What’s up?” Eddie lifts his head and watches his preteen daughter move past his bed and sit on the edge of her own. 
“Can I have your phone?” Eliza asks.
She still doesn’t look up at him, instead choosing to look down at her pink polka-dot socks. Her fingers fidget on the white comforter, chipped blush-colored nail polish scratching against the side of her jeans. 
“What for?”
Eddie is more than happy to let her use it, but he wants to get to the bottom of what’s wrong first. 
Instead of answering right away, the girl’s cheeks darken, and she gently shakes her head from side to side. 
“To call Mom.”
“Of course,” he says, lifting his hips off the bed so he can pull his phone out of his pocket. “Is everything okay?”
Eliza nods, but her wobbling chin and eyes pooling with tears make a liar out of the motion. 
“Eliza…”
Eddie moves to sit on the edge of his bed, his knees almost bumping into hers in the space between the two beds. 
“What’s wrong?” he asks.
“I-I wanna talk to Mom,” Eliza says, quickly wiping away a tear that falls down her cheek. 
“Okay.” Eddie feels his heart seizing up in his chest. He understands Eliza wanting her mom, but the fact that she’s not telling him what’s wrong is causing panic signals to fire off in his brain. “Are you alright?”
She sniffles, still not meeting his eye, and holds her hand out for the phone. 
As reluctant as he is to give it to her without getting any answers in return, he knows you’ll take care of whatever is going on. There’s no doubt in Eddie’s mind that you’re the best mother his children could ever have. So, he lays the phone in Eliza’s open palm.
“Thanks,” she mumbles as she scoots up towards her pillows, perching in the opposite corner of her bed—as far from Eddie as she can be, he notices.
Her dad watches as Eliza wipes under her nose with one hand while she pulls up your contact information. With another sniffle, your daughter holds the phone up to her ear and pulls her knees up against her chest. As she waits for you to answer, she brings her thumb up to her mouth and begins to clink her nail against her two front teeth. 
“Hello?”
Your voice simultaneously calms her, but also makes the tears that have been threatening to fall finally spill.
“Hi, M-Mom.”
“Eliza? Honey, what’s wrong?” Like Eddie, you also know the ins and outs of your daughter’s tells.
“I, um…” Eliza’s eyes dart over to her father, but quickly fall back to her free hand resting against her knee. It doesn’t escape Eddie’s notice that this was the first time she even glanced in his direction since she came out of the bathroom. “When, I, uh…”
Eddie decides to give his girls some privacy. He stands up from the bed and steps into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Ringed fingers drum against the cool porcelain tile. Eddie doesn’t have to go, so he picks up his toothbrush and figures he might as well take care of his dental hygiene while he’s in here.
With Eddie in the bathroom, Eliza feels a little freer to speak—even if she knows he can probably still hear from in there. 
“Mom, there was blood in my underwear,” Eliza says. 
“Oh!” You definitely weren’t expecting that, as much as you probably should have been since she’s at this age. “Well, you know what that is, right sweetie? We talked about it.”
“N-No, I know,” Eliza says. “I don’t want it though. I want it to go away.”
You sigh, wishing you could reach through the phone and hug your daughter. 
“Liza, you know that’s not going to happen.”
“Mommy, make it go away,” she whines, making your heart crack. 
“Everything is going to be just fine, honey. I’m sorry I’m not there, though,” you say. “Did you tell Daddy?”
“No,” Eliza mumbles, picking at the hem of her jeans. “Don’t wanna.”
“Sweetheart, I know it’s embarrassing. But he’s your dad. You’re in just as good hands with him as you are with me.”
“Not with this,” Eliza scoffs. 
“Yes, even with this,” you assure her. “Do you want me to talk to him? Tell him what he needs to buy you?”
“Yeah,” Eliza says. “I don’t think I’ll remember anyway.”
“I’ll also text it to him,” you say. “It’s just going to be some pads, okay? They’re pretty easy but if you want to FaceTime later, I can help you. Have you seen Luke yet?”
“No,” Eliza says. “We just got to the hotel, and I went to the bathroom and…saw.”
“Okay. Where’s Daddy?”
“In the bathroom.”
“Going? Or did you just banish him there?”
Eliza giggles softly and you’re able to relax a little. 
“Neither, I don’t think.”
“Go knock and hand him the phone, then.”
Eliza pushes herself off the bed, doing a double take to make sure she didn’t leave any red spots behind on the white comforter, and heads over to the bathroom door.
“Daddy?” She knocks three times.
Eddie opens the door and spits out the water he used to rinse his mouth into the sink.
“What’s up?”
“Here.” She holds the phone out towards him.
He eyes Eliza carefully as he takes it, trying to gauge if she’s feeling better or not.
“Hello?” Eddie asks.
“Hi,” you say. Already your voice has him feeling calmer. It’s just the effect you have on him.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
Eliza scurries away as her dad asks that question. She’d rather not look at him while you deliver the news.
“Eliza got her first period,” you say with a sigh. 
“Oh.” Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. He should have been expecting this at some point, right? Yet he feels entirely blindsided by hearing that his little girl has started turning into a woman. 
“You both really wish I was there, don’t you?” you ask with a chuckle. 
“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. “Yes, very much so.”
“Well, you need to be there for her now. She’s already feeling embarrassed and wishes this wasn’t happening.”
“I can do that,” Eddie says, sounding less than confident.
“Eddie.” 
“I can!”
“Good. When are you guys seeing Luke?” you ask.
“We’re having dinner with him,” your husband tells you. “Going to pick him up from his apartment in a little while.”
“Okay. She’s going to need pads before you go. I’ll text you what kind you should get. And then ones for bedtime, too.”
“There are different ones for bed?” Eddie asks. “What, do they have a clock on them or something?”
“Yes, they do make ones for bed,” you say with an amused chuckle. “But no, there’s no clock. It’s because she’ll be laying down for so long, the nighttime ones are longer to cover more underwear.”
“Oh.” Eddie clears his throat. “That makes sense.”
“God, you’re funny,” you say with a full out laugh. “Eds, why does this all seem so new to you? We’ve been together over fifteen years now and I still get mine like clockwork. And before that, I know Brittany had one or our two favorite knuckleheads wouldn’t be here.”
“Well, yeah,” Eddie says, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. “I’ve bought that kind of stuff for both of you, but I never paid attention. I didn’t need to!”
“Now you do, Pops. This is all new and scary for Eliza.”
“Yeah, me too,” Eddie adds. 
“You’ll be fine. She will too, but you have to help make sure of it. She’s still your little Liza.”
“Always,” Eddie says. 
“Good. Now go to the store. I told her I’d FaceTime and help her if she needs it, but I think she’s got it. She and I have had this talk before.”
“Okay,” Eddie says. “Uh, anything else?”
“Just be normal about it. As normal as you can be. Oh! And get her some Midol. And KitKats. Chocolate might be her lifesaver.”
“Her favorite, got it.”
“I’ll text you the mini list. Does she want to talk to me again?” you ask. 
“Lize?” Eddie calls. When she looks up at him, he holds out the phone. “Anything else for Mom?”
She nods and walks over to take the phone.
“Hi,” she says, voice soft and small.
“Hi, sweet pea. You’re okay. I’m going to text Daddy what to buy and you can call me whenever you want to.”
“Okay,” Eliza responds, still quiet. 
“I love you,” you say.
“I love you, too.”
“I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Okay,” Eliza repeats.
“Bye, baby.”
“Bye.”
Eliza hands the phone back to Eddie, looking at his stomach instead of his face. Eddie pockets the phone and sighs. He wraps his arm around Eliza’s shoulders and pats her arm.
“It’s okay, kid,” he says reassuringly. “I’ve got ya.”
Eliza nods and stays quiet for a moment before she buries her face in her father’s chest. Her arms cling to him as she cries and sniffles against his dark blue Tennessee tourist t-shirt he bought at the rest stop right over the border. 
Eddie frowns, his heart hurting at seeing his little girl so confused and upset. Puberty was a bitch for him—he can’t imagine what it must be like for a girl. He presses a few kisses against her dark curls that are tucked up in a ponytail. 
“Come on,” Eddie mumbles against her hair. “Mom said to buy you some KitKats, but I think we should clear out the whole stock of chocolate.”
Eliza pulls back and rubs her right eye with her fist as she looks up at her dad. He breathes a sigh of relief that she’ll finally meet his eye. 
“Can we get cookies t-too?” she asks.
“Cookies too,” Eddie agrees with a chuckle. 
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The trip to the store wasn’t nearly as bad as either Munson thought it was going to be. Eddie had your list, the two of them quickly spotted the needed feminine supplies, then they booked it over to the candy and cookies. 
Eddie puts the bags in the backseat and the two of them get back in the car.
“Alright,” Eddie says as he starts the engine. “Put your brother’s address in my GPS, please.”
Eliza scoffs a laugh as she grabs her dad’s phone to do as he said.
“What would you do without me being your tech support?” she asks.
“Call one of your siblings,” Eddie says, backing the car out of the parking space. 
“If you could figure out how to dial them,” Eliza teases as she snaps her father’s phone back into the car mount so he can see the directions.
“Such a smart ass,” Eddie muses. 
“Thanks!” Eliza beams. “I learned it from my father.”
“Well, he sounds like a hilarious and devastatingly handsome man,” Eddie says. 
“Meh.” Eliza shrugs and Eddie reaches over to dig his fingers in right above Eliza’s knee: her most ticklish spot. She squeals and her father eventually relents when he has to turn right down a road. 
The closer they get to Luke’s college campus, the more orange they see. Knoxville is sure brimming with school spirit. 
Luke’s apartment complex isn’t far from campus, so it’s easy to find. Eliza looks out at the red brick building and is surprised to find it just as clean as when they dropped Luke off here last year. Knowing her older brother, she assumed there would be cheeseburger wrappers littered around or an assortment of ridiculously posed lawn gnomes. 
“Do you want to call Mom before we get him?” Eddie asks.
She shakes her head. Eliza was able to get herself situated with a pad in the store’s bathroom. When you’d texted to see how things were going, Eddie had replied with a thumbs up emoji—once he found it. 
As much as Eliza wishes you were with her for her first period and the whirlwind of emotions that come with it, she likes having this small road trip time with just her dad. It was a little over five hours to drive from Hawkins, Indiana to Knoxville, Tennessee, but it was fun. Anything Eddie and Eliza did together was fun. Of course she misses you and everyone else back home, but this little trip is nice. 
“All right,” Eddie says. “Let’s go get the troublemaker.”
“Too late,” Eliza says. “Speak of the devil…”
Eddie looks up and sees Luke jogging out of his apartment building, big grin on his face as he sees his family. He walks over to the passenger side of the car and Eliza hitches her thumb over her shoulder to tell her older brother that he’s sitting in the back seat. No way was she giving up front seat privileges when she so rarely got them. 
Luke pulls open the back door and slides into the car.
“Mi familia!” Luke cries. He leans over the headrest in front of him to place a big smacking kiss on the top of Eliza’s head before leaning over toward Eddie’s side and wrapping his arms around his father as tightly as he can at this angle. 
“You’re so dramatic,” Eliza complains with a chuckle.
“Oh, come on,” Luke says as he plops down into his seat. “The three most dramatic Munsons are all in this car right now.”
“And, shockingly,” Eddie says as he backs out of the parking space, “I get the bronze medal.”
“Well, you always want your children to do better than you, right Dad?” Luke shifts and his foot kicks the plastic bag containing Eliza’s period needs and snacks. The top corner of a bag of cookies is sticking out and Luke’s focus is locked. “Ooh, did you buy me snacks?”
He stretches to snag the bag handle and plops it down on the seat next to him.
“No!” Eliza cries, trying to turn around in her seat and snatch the bag away before he notices what’s inside. But she’s too late.
Luke lifts out a package of sanitary pads and his eyes widen as he looks from the frilly lilac design to his sister staring back at him with a tomato red face. Slowly, as if she were attempting to go unnoticed, Eliza spins back around to face forward in her seat.
Eddie doesn’t say anything, just waits for his son to speak. He doesn’t want to jump down Luke’s throat for making fun of his little sister if the crime hasn’t even been committed yet. Eddie’s expecting anything from “gross, periods” to “ew, you have cooties now!” But he definitely wasn’t expecting…
“My little girl is growing up!”
Eliza drops her head forward into her hands and Eddie bites down on his bottom lip to keep from smiling. 
“Alright, Luke,” Eddie says, “don’t traumatize your sister.”
“I’m not!” Luke protests. “I’m just saying I can’t believe she’s hitting puberty!”
“Luke, I’m going to stab you,” Eliza grits out between her teeth.
“Oh, there are the hormones!” Luke says. 
“Okay, guys,” Eddie interjects. “Enough.”
“Does the family know yet?” Luke asks, leaning forward to stick his head between the driver’s and passenger’s seats. “Did I miss a text in the family group chat?”
“No,” Eliza seethes.
“We have to tell Ryan! Oh, wait, oh my God. We have to tell Grandpa that his little girl is becoming a woman!”
The car rolls up to a red light and Eliza immediately unbuckles her seatbelt.
“That’s it!”
She leaps into the back seat, landing right on top of her brother. Luke laughs as she tries to pin him down, her twelve-year-old frame not as strong as his twenty-two-year-old one. But she will never give up. This is the same girl who at less than a year old learned how to throw her entire body weight onto her big brothers and knock the wind out of them. 
“Is this any way to treat your brother that you haven’t seen in months?” Luke asks as Eliza wrestles for control of his arms.
“When that brother is you? Yes.”
“Aww, Dad needs to get you a phone,” Luke says as he finally puts in the effort and is able to wrangle Eliza into a hold where he can squeeze her in an approximation of a hug. “That way I can talk to you more.”
“Buckle up back there,” is all Eddie says as the light turns green. 
There’s the snapping of a seatbelt being locked, rummaging through the plastic bag, then the noise from the backseat dissipates. 
“You better not steal my cookies,” Eddie hears Eliza mumble to her brother.
“You let me have one and I’ll give you a half-full tube of Pringles from my apartment.”
“What flavor?”
Eddie smiles to himself as he eyes the restaurants that pass by on the main road. He’s looking for a good one to take his son and daughter to, but he’s also enjoying hearing the two of them be their usual selves with one another. It’s been too long since they’ve lived under the same roof, Eddie feels. Then again, he feels that any time any of his kids aren’t under his roof is too long. They’re still his babies, it doesn’t matter how old they are.
“Cheddar and sour cream,” Luke answers his sister.
There’s a beat of silence as Eliza thinks it over.
“Okay. Deal.”
Eddie silently chuckles to himself. Luke may be a college student now, and Eliza might be becoming a woman, but they’re still the rugrats that Eddie’s known and loved since the days they were born.
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yesimwriting · 17 days
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thinking about bsf!logan, who thinks the title is ridiculous. best friends are for little kids trying to justify who they invite to their birthday parties, not for anyone like him. but there's something about the way you say it, voice measured as your attention shifts between him and the nail of your thumb as you picks at your nail beds.
there's a shyness to the silence that follows that does't suit you. it means something to you, he realizes, and that--that might mean something to him.
you, who seems to have the world at your fingertips because no one ever manages to say no to you. you, who is never missing from movie nights or impromptu training sessions or anything because you're the first person invited. you, who everyone is so fond of sometimes logan can feel their communal warmth burning him out of your life, like some beast that's only vulnerability is light.
it's a reality he's been aware of from the very beginning. it's part of the reason he promised himself that he'd never take anything you didn't offer him willingly. and here you are, giving him something.
so he accepts it with a teasing, "i'm the best you could do?" that's a lot gruffer than it needs to be. you beam regardless, sitting up a little straighter as you tuck your knuckles beneath your chin.
you mumble something about having limited options, the answer a little flatter than you usually are. it is late, and you are the type to push against your own tiredness to make sure someone's awake to greet your friends when they get back from a mission you weren't needed for.
with a sigh, he looks back to his nearly empty beer bottle. "isn't it late for you to be up?"
you're immediately protesting, swearing that you're fine and that you just want to talk to him. the lack of tact in your reaction only proves his point further, but instead of pushing it, he downs the last of his beer. your eyes narrow. the openness of your skepticism is another indicator of the drowsiness you're ignoring.
logan sighs, pushing himself to stand so that he doesn't have to look at you as he says this next part, "c'mon." it's flat in its stiffness, maybe even a little awkward. he keeps his gaze focused on what's directly in front of him. "if you want to be 12, you should have a sleepover."
there's a beat of silence, of hesitation, and then you're moving to stand. you remain there for a second, silent and still. regret burrows itself somewhere between his lungs and ribcage.
then, you scoff, the sound light and familiar. "having a best friend isn't that 12-year-old."
a part of him is glad that his back is still to you. "i know, bub, you're completely grown up."
you let out a breath that might be a laugh, or a yawn, or some odd combination of both, as you step forward. "don't make fun of me when i'm too tired to defend myself."
once you're by his side, he begins to walk away from the kitchen table. "i thought you were fine."
you turn your head enough to glare at him. "don't start."
without thinking, he reaches forward, placing a hand on your shoulder as a reminder that he can. "i'd never."
----
a/n take this concept/drabble hybrid while i work through both writer's block and an overwhelming amount of homework <3 also if u liked this pls feel free to send me asks with thoughts for this concept, i love secretly-pining-best-friend trope :)
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coldfanbou · 6 months
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I'm a...
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Here we are with the Viviz fic. We have a threesome with something special involved for Eunha.
Eunha X Mreader X SinB X Umji
Length 2.5K
Previous part
Wondering why Eunha had let you have sex with SinB and practically threw you at Umji, you needed to talk to her. You woke up on Saturday thinking about that, and as you looked to the other side of the bed, Eunha was gone. The sizzling sounds from the kitchen told you where she was. You got out of bed, put on your slippers, and headed toward the kitchen. You spotted her moving back and forth from the fridge to the stove, occasionally flicking through the cookbook on her tablet. “We need to talk Eunha.” The small woman spins on her heel, her apron swinging along with her.
“What do you need?” She says, leaning forward and sticking her tongue out. “Don’t tell me you want to do something before breakfast.”
“Why did you have me have sex with SinB and Umji?” You say bluntly. 
“Well, SinB wanted to thank you, and Umji was our tiebreaker.” She replies blankly.
“Okay, I get that, but why did you let them?” You ask, reiterating your question.
Eunha’s face turns bright red, and her hands rush to her cheeks as she turns around. “I don’t want to say it’s embarrassing,” she says.
“What can be so embarrassing about it?”
“Well…” Eunha began as she spun a tale that explained why she let SinB and Umji have sex with you. “A while ago, I was coming home late from work, right? When I got to our bedroom, I saw you watching one of our old videos.” The video Eunha was referencing was one of your sex tapes. “I was watching you…uh, jerk off to the video.” She said shyly. Eunha fiddled with the stove, turning the heat off as she tried to think about how to continue. “I liked watching you and got turned on…I fingered myself. I thought about what it might be like to watch you fuck someone, and it made me horny.” Eunha says, looking at the ground with her fingers pressing against each other as embarrassment fills her body. Her eyes shoot up toward you as she realizes what she’s said, “But I didn’t want you to have sex with any stranger, so I asked SinB and Umji to do it!” Eunha blurts out. “I thought it was hot,” Eunha follows in a whisper. “I, uh, guess you could say I’m a cuckquean,” She says with a shy smile. “And I may have pushed SinB to have sex with you.
You sigh and rub your forehead, “And why didn’t you tell me?” 
“I thought that you would say no.”
“So you forced them on me?”
“Yes,” Eunha says sheepishly. 
You take a deep breath and pat Eunha’s head. “Listen, I have a lot of questions, but next time you have some fantasy like this, just tell me.” You raise your hand off Eunha’s head, turning it into a fist before softly smacking her head. “You’re so dumb sometimes, Eunha.” 
“Does this mean you’ll fuck them again?”
“You were too quick to ask that question. Let’s have breakfast,” you say, wanting to move past the conversation. From the corner of your eye, you spot Eunha pouting. We’ll finish this talk after.” Your breakfast goes by fast, with Eunha giving you puppy eyes the entire time. 
Once you’re done, she opens her mouth, ready to bring the subject back up. “I know it’s weird, but I like to watch.”
“So does this mean I’ll never get to touch you again?”
“What if I let myself be free use for you? Would you fuck SinB and Umji again?” 
“That’s not an answer to my question, Eunha.” 
She pouts again, her cheeks filling with air. It made her cute, but you couldn’t let that distract you. “I still want to have sex with you. It feels like I’m in trouble.”
“I just want to clear things up.” 
After a lengthy discussion about limits and boundaries, Eunha stuck out her hand. “Let’s shake on it.” She said with the biggest grin on her face. You shake your head and smile. Eunha’s silliness has always been charming to you. You shake her hand and watch Eunha do a little dance out of sheer excitement. “I have the best thing planned for you. I have to make a few calls.”
She runs off to your bedroom, throwing her apron on the floor as she shuts the door. You let out a deep breath and drop the dishes in the sink, washing them as a way to relax. The day goes by calmly, with both of you relaxing at home.
A knock on the door interrupts a movie you’re watching with Eunha; as you head to answer it, Eunha grows a sly smile. At the door were Umji and SinB. You look back to Eunha, who plays dumb and looks at the ceiling. “Alright, come on in,” you say before making your way to the couch. “Eunha, what did you do?”
“I did nothing wrong.” Eunha stoutly replies
“You called them to have sex, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Eunha says, meekly accepting your way out for her. She grabs your arm, pulling on it to get you to stand up. “I want to watch! Come on, let's get to the bedroom.” You go along with it for her sake. Stripping off your clothing, you toss yourself onto the bed. Umji and SinB seemed shocked at your willingness and look at each other. Eunha walks into the room, pulling a chair along with her and placing it in the corner. As she pulls down her shorts, she looks at her friends. “What are you two waiting for? I want the show to start.” Eunha sits in her chair, her hand diving into her folds as she waits. 
Umji is the first to make a move. She grabs the hem of her shirt, lifting it up and over her head. Her lack of bra was apparent as her modest tits bounced freely. She crawled onto the bed slowly, leaving her skirt on. She placed her head on your thigh, warm body rubbing against your leg as she reached up and wrapped her delicate hand around your shaft. It glided up and down the length of your soft cock. Umji met your eyes once before focusing on the appendage before her. She positioned herself over it, spitting on the head and using her hand to cover your cock in her saliva. You groan weakly as your cock grows hard in her hands. Her hand moves quickly across your slick cock, and Umji’s grip gets a little tighter. 
SinB watches Umji take control of the situation and turns her head to see Eunha absolutely entranced by the sight, her friend's fingers moving in small circles around her clit as she pulls on one of her nipples. Looking back at you and Umji, SinB pulls her sweater over her head, drops it to the floor, and follows that with her shirt and pants. After stripping off her underwear, SinB climbs on the bed, glancing at Eunha over her shoulder before getting right next to you. Gently placing her hand on your cheek, SinB turns your head toward her, “I’m only doing this for Eunha,” She whispers to you. It seemed like she wasn’t being completely honest, but that would be the subject of another time. SinB presses her lips against yours and lets go of your cheek. She moves the arm under her and places your hand on her ass. You squeeze the soft piece of flesh, making SinB moan into the kiss. Your squeeze becomes rougher as you feel a pair of lips on your cock. 
Umji had gotten hungry stroking your cock. She kissed the tip and slowly spread her lips, allowing you inside the warm and wet cavern that was her mouth. Her tongue swirled slowly around the tip, and Umji audibly moaned as she savored the taste of your cock. She bobbed her head slowly, dragging her plump lips along your shaft as she stuffed herself. Eunha watched, her fingers moving quickly as she saw Umji and SinB submit to you. Eunha’s light moans momentarily attract the attention of the three of you. Her thighs glisten from her nectar as she rubs them together. As you focus on each other again, you slap SinB’s ass, making her break the kiss with a yelp. “Help Umji out,” You command. SinB nods and moves down to your cock where Umji backs off, letting the other woman share in the delight. Their lips meet with your cock sitting in the middle. The sensation sends shivers down your spine as you feel their lips move around your cock. You place your hands on their heads, guiding them along your shaft. 
You began to want more; you pulled their hair, moving the women away from your cock. You tear Umji’s skirt off her before placing SinB on top; both women face Eunha. Eunha pressed her thighs together as she met their eyes but continued to finger herself, her face flush. You got behind the pair of women, aligning your cock with Umji’s cunt first. You grabbed her hips and pulled her onto your cock without warning. You both filled the room with a great moan. Umji’s walls wrap tightly around you, practically pulling you deeper into the young woman. Umji’s feels your hard cock kiss the tip of her womb, and her arms give out, sending her face into the bed. She arches her back and pushes her ass into your pelvis. “Fuck me. Fuck my pussy,” She moaned. You begin thrusting into the small woman’s tight cunt, listening to her moan your name. 
You move your attention onto SinB, noticing her wet thighs. You move your fingers along her slit. She shivers and looks over her shoulder; as you meet your eyes, you push your fingers inside her cunt. You press against her walls, rubbing them as you move in and out. SinB whines, the pleasure hitting her hard. The two women’s moan mix as Eunha watches you fuck the two of them. 
Eunha was nearing her climax; her fingers pistoned in and out of her. She sat back roughly, squeezing her tits, her head rolling back as she moaned. SinB and Umji were turned on watching Eunha. You could feel their walls tighten around you whenever they looked at your girlfriend. 
Approaching your first orgasm, you pulled your fingers out of SinB. You held onto Umji’s waist, her soft flesh moving between your fingers as you squeezed it. You sped up your thrusts, slamming your cock into Umji’s cunt without care. The young woman’s moans became ragged, “Oh god, fuck me!” Umji looked up, meeting Eunha’s eyes. “Thank you, Eunha!” Umji cried out as she came. Her walls squeezed your cock tightly as she backed her ass into you. Burying your cock in Umji, you paint her womb white, flooding it with your cum. Umji shuts her eyes and lays her head on the bed. “I’m so warm,” She mumbles. You feel her walls gripping you tightly, fighting you as you pull out. Cum drips from Umji’s cunt onto the bed below. She collapses onto the bed after. 
Rolling Umji out from under SinB to give you more space, you lay SinB on her back. You come face to face with her, with Eunha watching on. As you glance at your girlfriend, you see her breathing heavily, her hands coated in nectar. You kiss SinB’s chest, planting more of them as you move from breast to breast and then up her neck. “Just fuck me already,” She whines. You align yourself with her cunt, prodding SinB’s entrance. “Don’t make me beg. Not in front of her.” You plant your lips on SinB’s as you drive your cock into her pussy. You break the kiss as her moan comes in and let Eunha listen to her long-time friend’s cries of pleasure. You feel SinB’s legs wrap around your waist. You grab her hands, holding them by her head as you begin thrusting. You kiss her neck, listening to SinB moan your name as you drive her crazy. “Why are you so big?” She mutters.
“Why don’t you thank Eunha?” You groan, “She knows you like it.”
“Shut-ahh,” SinB’s words are cut short as you deliver a powerful thrust, forcing her body to take every inch. You lean down, taking one of her nipples into your mouth and gently biting it. SinB’s gasp turns into a moan as you pull back on it. You continue your thrusts, watching as SinB gets closer to her climax. 
“Where are you going to want it?” You moan into her ear. Only moans come from her mouth.
You repeat the question, this time earning yourself an answer. “Inside, do it inside.” She said. SinB almost sounded like she was begging for it. You continue to thrust, feeling your orgasm coming. With each thrust, you could feel Sinb’s walls rubbing your cock, covering it in her nectar. 
“I’m cumming,” You groan as you bury yourself inside SinB. She feels your warm cum pour into her. Her walls clamp down on your cock, milking you for more cum. You fill SinB’s cunt before pulling out, leaving her like Umji, tired and full of cum. You sit back at the head of the bed and beckon Eunha. Eunha stands from her seat, her lower half drenched in her nectar. Crawling past her friends, Eunha stares into your eyes. 
She comes to a stop at your cock, pressing her lips against the cum covered tip and swallowing your cock as she makes her way to the base. Eunha’s tongue slowly swirls around your cock, cleaning it. Eunha drags her tongue along the underside of your cock as she pulls away. “I can taste SinB and Umji on your cock,” She says before kissing the tip. “My turn now.”
Eunha straddles you, aligning her slit with your cock and lowering herself onto you. The familiar sensation feels nice. Eunha’s pussy holds you snuggly as she takes inch after inch. “I hope you know I’m sensitive. I’m not going to last long.”
“So am I. Watching you fuck them was so exciting. Thanks, Honey.” Eunha gives you a soft kiss as she begins to ride you. She softly bounces on your cock, taking every inch with ease but refusing to let a single one go. You hold her close, enjoying the feeling of your cock rubbing against her walls. You give one of her tits a squeeze, feeling the soft flesh jiggle as she bounces on your cock. You focus on each other, giving each other soft kisses as you enjoy each other's bodies. You can feel a tightness in your core as you near your third climax. Eunha pushes you onto your back, giving herself more space to work with. Each bounce from Eunha feels heavenly as her pussy swallows the entirety of your cock each time. You hold her waist, guiding her slightly. “Honey, I want you to cum inside me. Cum in pussy.” 
“I’m going to cum.” You groan. Eunha’s walls tighten around you, sending you over the edge and forcing you to cum. Feeling your semen shoot into her, Eunha drops her weight on your cock, impaling herself on you and letting your cum fill her. 
Eunha rests her head on your chest as your bodies begin to relax. “Can we do this again?”
“Not for a while.”
“That’s fine. As long as we do it again in the future.”
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lost-and-ephemeral · 7 months
Note
hii can i request angst for love and deepspace, reader and mc are different ppl. our boys made plans with reader but forgot and left them hanging to hangout with the mc instead 😞
Series: In Her Shadow, pt.1 (ft. main trio)
Part 1 | Part 2
It feels like you've never been enough for him.
Pairing: Xavier x reader, Zayne x reader, Rafayel x reader (seperate)
Tags: angst, hurt no comfort, reader is not MC, reader and guys are dating
A/N: Thanks for your request, sweetheart! Hope it doesn't look too OOC.
Part 1 | Part 2
-`♡´- MASTERLIST -`♡´- 
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Xavier
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Your relationship with Xavier could be called ideal, if not for one nuance.
His colleague, who takes up much of his attention.
There were times when he'd come home and talk about her with such excitement that you'd start to feel like a third wheel. But usually afterwards Xavier would apologize and say that no matter how strong his colleague was, you would still be the best for him.
And you'd like to believe that. Until he forgot about dinner with you because of her.
You've planned a perfect evening and cooked everything he loved so much, knowing how tired he might come back after a mission. Only for him to never show up this evening.
You've been waiting, and waiting, and waiting. Feeling how your heart was breaking even more with each passing minute. Maybe something bad had happened? Maybe he was hurt?
You texted him, only to get back, "Don't worry, I'm fine, my colleague just invited me to the cafe after our mission."
No apologies, no regrets. It seems that he just forgot about you and your plans together.
For a while you were silently sitting in your living room, staring at the phone screen. It was hard to describe all these feelings that were bubbling up inside you. Jealousy, anger. You didn't even bother to remind him about your dinner together and just put all the dishes away in the fridge.
Since when did she become more important than you?
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Zayne
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You always knew about Zayne's childhood friend. But you couldn't even imagine that she would make you feel so unwanted.
You had plans for today while your lover had the day off. As a cardiac surgeon, Zayne was busy most of the time and would come home late, completely exhausted. Of course, you wanted to spend every free day with him.
Except for one thing.
His childhood friend constantly overshadowed you. Well, you could understand why that was happening. After all, their friendship (or was it more than that already?) had been going on for years, and you couldn't stop Zayne from seeing her.
But…
Sitting alone in the restaurant, at the table you'd booked together, you barely held back tears as you stared at the message marked 'unread'.
When Zayne didn't appear in time, you were surprised. He was always so punctual, what was wrong this time?
But when you asked him where he was, he replied, "Sorry, she asked me to visit an old candy store with her, I'll be back in a few hours," and you realized he'd completely forgotten about you.
And your last message went unread.
"Zayne, but we made a reservation for today."
You sat alone for so long that people started to squint in your direction. The only option was to get up and leave the restaurant before your heart was completely shattered.
And so you did.
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Rafayel
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Usually Rafayel's studio was always open for you, so you could come to see him anytime.
But as it turned out, you weren't the only one he welcomed with open arms, day or night.
Today was your day off and you were planning to visit Rafayel so you could help him with something in his studio. He asked you to come in the first place. Usually that meant he just wanted to see you and was looking for any excuse, even the silliest one.
But instead you were met with a locked gate.
At first you thought it was just another joke, that Rafayel would come out and let you in, yet some time passed, and you continued to stand there alone. You tried to call him, but it was unsuccessful. No matter how long you waited, no one answered.
Finally you decided to call Thomas to ask him if something important had happened. Maybe Rafayel once again forgot about his own exhibition and had left in a hurry.
But it turned out you were the only one who had been forgotten.
"He said he was going to buy new paints with his bodyguard," Thomas explained. "Or something like that. Better not wait for him until evening, he's unlikely to be back before that time."
Devastated, you stood there for a while longer, thinking about his 'Ms. Bodyguard' who was spending more and more time with your beloved. It wasn't the first she took him away from you.
But this was the last straw.
You turned around, heading back home and desperately holding back tears.
It wasn't fair.
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christhopersturniolo · 7 months
Text
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୨ MY LITTLE SISTER ୧ matt
summary: you had some plans with your boyfriend matt for the weekend, but something unexpected happens, and you have to babysit your little sister.
notes: this is my second time ever writing a fanfic (go read my first one) and english isn't my first language, it's probably not very detailed and there might be some mistakes, but I hope you enjoy it! all ears to feedbacks, l'd love to know what you think!
warnings: cussing, fluff
୨୧
I sigh “And why can’t you take her with you?” I say taking my eyes out of the screen and looking at my mom.
“How long will it take for you to understand that your dad is on a business trip and i’m going on one as well?” She answers walking from a side to another, packing some of her things. “I can’t take her with me, even if I wanted to.”
"But mom-" I start, only to be cut off.
"No buts, Y/n.” She interrupts, her tone firm. “I’m being serious." She looks straight into my eyes "It's what I'm telling you, you'll have to stay with your sister. I won't be paying for a babysitter while you're here with your ass in the couch. You are almost 18, you can very well take care of her, it’s only for the weekend.”
“But I told you I have plans with Matt!” I exclaim, leaning my head back on the headrest of the couch in annoyance.
My mom is about to reply when we hear the sound of my 3 year old little sister's footsteps coming from her room, followed by her little giggles.
We automatically get silent about this topic. I take a deep breath, reminding myself she's not the problem, she's just a child caught up in our adult issues. Bella is not the problem.
Don't get me wrong, I do love my sister, but it's a bit overwhelming to adjust having a sibling after being the only child for years. And with my mom's age, it's unexpected, to say the least.
SKIP TIME
Today is the day that my mom is going to her ‘super important business trip’, and also the day Im supposed to have a date with Matt.
After my mother left at 7am, Bella and I found ourselves up earlier than usual. We already had breakfast, so now, we don’t really have anything to do. We go to the living room, watch some TV.
Bella sits on the couch next to me and chooses the channel. After some good ten minutes, I look at my right to check on her, and she’s completely asleep, what makes me smile.
Until I realize that I didn’t canceled my dinner with Matt.
Shit, I completely forgot to talk with Matt! Fuck!
I get up and I go over to my bedroom, getting my phone and calling him. He takes some seconds to answer the call.
“Babe? Sorry, did I wake you up?” I ask, hoping the answer would be ‘no’.
“No, No, No..” He says with his husky morning voice, he definitely just woke up. “But why are you calling this early? Is something wrong?” I could feel myself getting fucking soaked as he talks, sorry, but his voice in the morning? I can’t take it.
I take a deep breath, trying to think straight. "Um, yeah.. Actually, my mom went out for the weekend, and I have to babysit my sister.. I don't know if I'll be able to make it to the dinner we had planned tonight”
“Oh” A simple response, What does that even mean? He probably hates me now.
"I know you already made the reservation, and I was super excited, I swear," I start saying nothing with nothing, feeling guilty for ruining our plans. "But then my mom told me she had this thing and..."
Before I could finish apologizing, Matt cuts me, understanding. "No babe, that's fine. Don't worry. Maybe we can do something else? With your sister? I have stuff to do all day, but I’m free at night, maybe we can have a sleepover or something?”
I sigh in relief “Yeah sure, that sounds great, I will talk about It with Bella”
“Alright call me later sweetheart, love you, bye” He ends the call and I go back to the living room, getting back on my place.
Bella is still peaceful sleeping on the couch. Not wanting to disturb her, I cover her with a blanket, but my actions unfortunately wake her up, blinking her sleepy eyes open. A small yawn escapes her lips, and she looks at me with a drowsy smile.
"Hey, sleepyhead" I whisper, gently brushing a piece of hair from her face. "Did you have a nice nap?" Bella nods, rubbing her eyes with tiny hands. "Mhm" she murmurs, snuggling deeper into the blanket.
I think about a way to tell her that Matt is coming over before she could fall back asleep “So.. do you remember my boyfriend, Matt?" Bella blinks, her sleepy expression turning curious. "Mm-hmm" she mumbles again, nodding slowly.
“What if.. He came over to a super fun sleepover with us today?” I say trying to sound extra excited to convince her.
Bella's eyes light up with excitement at the mention of a sleepover. "Yeah!" She exclaims, her drowsiness quickly dissipating. "Matt is funny!" Her sentence makes me chuckle “Oh he is?” She nods giggling, It doesn't even look like she just woke up.
The rest of the day, she doesn’t stop talking about Matt.
“Then- Then will Matt play games with me?”
“And can we watch frozen? I think Matt will like it”
Over and over, she’s more excited than me. But I mean, I can’t blame her, It’s Matt over all.
Around 8pm, Matt rings on the doorbell. I go over to the front door, Bella follows me, getting behind my left leg. I open the door and I see my boyfriend with two bouquets of flowers, a big one, and a small one.
“Hey love” He leans for a hug and a quick kiss on the cheek, then he hands me the bouquet “This is for you”
A smile appears across my face, I chuckle “Thank you so much.. You really didn’t had to” I say looking at my favorite flowers.
“No that’s fine, don’t worry” Matt returns the smile, his eyes lighting up as he sees Bella peeking out shyly from behind me. "Hey, Bella" he says warmly, crouching down to her level. "I also brought these for you, little princess" he says, offering her the smaller bouquet with a gentle smile.
Bella looks at me, seeing Bella's hesitation, I give her a soft nod, silently urging her to accept the flowers from Matt. With a shy smile, Bella reaches out and takes the bouquet from him, still with one hand around my leg.
“What do we say Bella?” I place my hand on the top of her head, caressing her hair.
“Thank you Matt” She says still shy.
"You're welcome, Belly" He responds getting up, his voice gentle and kind.
Some hours after playing some board games and talking, Bella decided to go get her toys.
She returns carrying a bunch of dolls and stuffed animals, then she settles onto the carpet in front of us and places everything there. “Matt come play with me!” She says excited with some barbie’s in her small hands.
He gets up from the couch, and sits down next to Bella on the floor “Alright so what doll am I?” Bella looks around “Hmmm..” She grabs a really bad looking doll, marker-covered, and hands it to Matt. I automatically start laughing uncontrollably, Matt matches the energy.
I am just watching as they play, Bella makes Matt use a girly voice, what just makes everything ten times better for my entertainment.
After Bella got tired of playing with her toys, she made us watch frozen, it’s her favorite movie, this is probably her fifth time watching it. I sit on the left side of the couch, Matt on the middle and my sister next to him. Some 30 minutes after the movie started, Bella is already with her head on Matt’s lap, sleeping like a little angel, as Matt gently strokes her hair and she snuggles closer to him.
His eyes meet mine, seeing me watching him, he smiles “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing” With a soft smile, I rest my head on Matt's shoulder “You just look so cute taking care of kids” He chuckles and leaves a kiss on the top of my head.
୨୧
this actually sucked, i’m so bad at doing cute scenes, this def wasn’t what I had in mind lol, maybe i will delete it later.
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look-at-the-soul · 1 year
Text
My refuge
Tommy Shelby x reader (daughter)
Request by @kpopgirlbtssvt Thank you for sharing this incredible idea around, I decided to give it a try, but I highly encourage any other writer who wants to join in because the way I approach it. Might be completely different…
I think this idea was the perfect match to celebrate K @runnning-outof-time 3K followers celebration! 🌹🌷💐🌺🌼Congratulations dear K, I adored your Tales from the Garden theme and had this visual idea of the garden…
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“Daddy? I brought some tea.”
Tommy looked towards the door, where you were standing poking only your head inside his office, his heart still skipped a beat every time he heard you call him that.
“You can come in sweetheart.” He stamped his cigarette in the ashtray.
Michael sighed loudly as you interrupted their conversation, his annoyance didn’t go unnoticed by Tommy.
“Frances helped me bake cookies, I hope you like it.” Y/N smile made Tommy smile as well, how could he reject you something? If his only daughter wanted him to eat a cookie, he’d eat a fucking cookie.
“Thank you love.”
Michael scoffed again, watching the interaction.
“Will you be busy for the rest of the afternoon?” You asked sweetly as your father took another sip of his tea.
“Why?”
“Because you promised we’d go riding.”
Tommy’s expression softened.
He stood up immediately, looking in Michael’s direction. “We’ll see this tomorrow.”
“What? No, Tommy I need y-”
“Michael.” Tommy warned giving his cousin a death stare, he wouldn’t repeat himself.
Turning his back at him, Tommy got rid of his suit jacket, and started rolling the sleeves of his shirt up.
Michael looked annoyed at you and then at Tommy, he felt a strong dislike for the long lost daughter that suddenly appeared, making his cousin a soft, ridiculous, old man.
Michael grabbed the papers from Tommy’s desk and stormed out of the office without a word.
“He’s always angry.” You stated with a giggle, making your father chuckle.
“Let’s go my darling.” He took the remaining of his tea in one big gulp and then the cookies you baked to eat on the walk to the stables.
It was impossible to not feel calmer around you, Tommy noticed. Realizing how full of life he felt, how much he wanted to protect you.
On their way to the stables, you stopped to smell one of the bushes with pink roses. Your Dad, who was usually in a hurry, stopped on his tracks to take in the moment, wishing he could be more like you. But deep down he knew he wasn’t made to enjoy simple moments like those.
“I love your garden, I could spend all day sitting here surrounded by this beauty.”
Tommy felt constantly in awe by the things that made you smile, his mind trying to storage every moment, every word, trying to make up for the time he lost.
He stayed quiet as the two of you were riding, thinking of how much you and the woman he once loved looked alike.
“I shouldn’t have interrupted your meeting with Michael?” You asked worried. “Sorry, I thought you were free.”
“What? No, none of that, you’re my priority from now on.”
“Then why are you so quiet?”
Tommy was forced to look up at you, fighting against the lump in his throat. “You look exactly like your mother.”
Without even knowing, you had started a revolution within him, made him go back in time when he was young and carefree.
“How did you and Mum meet?” The question had been on your mind for a while, you looked in his direction with curiosity, not understanding the reason why everyone looked at your father with fear in their eyes, he was the sweetest man on earth.
Tommy took his time to think of how to elaborate a proper answer.
“I saw her at an Appleby fair, she was dancing with other girls… she was like a magnet, I couldn’t look anywhere else.” For an instant, he was back in time into that very moment.
“What happened then?” Your face lit up, moved to have this little piece of information, for years, you only knew your mum’s side of the story, now, it was time to get both.
“She asked me out to dance with her, then it started to rain heavily and the fair was canceled, we went to my caravan and I’ve never been happier,” Tommy stopped and winked at his daughter, “until you stood in my front door.”
“She always talked about you, until her very last breath.”
“I wish I could prevent her parents taking you both away from me… but when I went to France and sent her letter with no answer, eventually, I stopped writing.” A heavy sigh abandoned his body as he stopped by a tree.
In more ways than he thought, talking about your mother helped him heal a part of his heart that had been broken for a little over two decades.
You came down from the horse and saw how your father secured both next to a tree.
A tender hand came to rest to the side of your face. “I’m just so glad you found me.”
There was a bittersweet look in his eyes, you noticed.
“I made quite an entrance, fighting off the maid, telling her, no I demanded a word with you.”
Small lines appeared around his eyes. “Like the good Shelby that you’re.”
“You never doubted for a second?”
But your Dad was already shaking his head. “No way, I knew it was you in that very moment.” He admitted, in his mind images of that day playing in his mind.
He was running late that morning and as commotion was happening downstairs, he rushed with a gun ready. Even from afar, as he took in your features, he knew it was you.
“But I confirmed it when I saw the broken Black Madonna around your neck.”
You looked at him confused.
“Back then I didn’t own anything,” he explained bending one knee, “so one day I found this broken Madonna relic, it was missing the hook to attach it to the chain, so the owner of the stand gave it to me for free, I tried to fix it and gave it to your mum for one of her birthdays.”
“That’s beautiful.” You touched it, feeling your heart beat under your hand.
Saving these memories in the deepest part of your soul.
You talked for hours, Tommy had never felt more free to speak his mind, his fears , his dreams, he realized his daughter understood him at a level nobody else did. You were his blood, and the exact same image of your mother.
***
“Good morning, thank you for coming.” Tommy walked into his office not realizing the door didn’t close completely.
“Finally after canceling this bloody meeting so many times.” Michael sighed as Tommy entered the office.
“I like your enthusiasm Michael, hopefully you will still carry that around by the end, ey?”
Leaning back, Michael tilted his head, he was clearly annoyed with the delay.
“Hopefully someone won’t interrupt us this time around over a fucking cup of tea or to go and pick up wild flowers to make a crown.”
The cigarette Tommy was about to light didn’t reach his lips, as he stopped midway.
“What didya say?” Tommy squinted his eyes.
“I said I’m fucking tired of your daughter interrupting us every single time-”
“Y/N, her name is Y/N Shelby.” Tommy dragged his words slowly, leaning his palms on his desk staring deeply into his cousin’s eyes.
“I don’t know you anymore, since when you push everything to the side Tommy? This business demands your full attention an-”
“Since she showed up in my doorstep!” Tommy slammed the desk with his hand, his voice raising. “After being away from me for twenty years, it really shouldn’t be a surprise she has become my priority now.”
“Michael.” Polly tried to warn him.
But Tommy raised his hand, to let him speak.
“I just can’t stand how you immediately turn into a fucking puppy as soon as she walks into any room, her little happy bubble is fucking annoying, this is a serious business and we don’t need a child with a bouncy bow interrupting everyone fucking meeting.”
Tommy remained quiet for a few seconds, his mouth pressed in a tight line. “Are you done, Michael?”
“I mean if you want to take some time apart from the company to spend time to work on your family bond.”
As you took the last step of the staircase, you noticed the voices coming from your father’s office, it was probably your family as you noticed Polly’s voice.
Walking closer to join them and before you could reach the knob, you heard something that stopped you on your tracks.
John couldn’t hold it any longer and started laughing.
“You definitely look like a fucking puppy, you can’t deny it… as soon as you see Y/N you turn into a fucking marionette, she does whatever she wants with you.”
“She turned you into a softy, brother.” The voice of your uncle Arthur pointed.
“Sometimes I wonder what the hell is she doing in a place like this.” Michael stated in a serious tone. “She doesn’t match the Shelby energy. What if someone comes at her? Does she even know how to use a fucking gun?”
Your heart sank to the floor, listening to what they thought of you.
Then it was your aunt Ada’s voice what you heard next. “She’s just a happy girl.”
“Ada knew how to use one at her age.” Polly admitted, you saw her over the slightly open door looking into her purse.
“Little Finn knew how to shoot before he was eight.” Arthur informed them.
“She’s a weakness, Tommy,” Michael insisted, “her happy bubble will lead us all into trouble someday.”
And for the first time, you felt anger building inside your body.
“Even Charlie seems to be more keen to be part of the business.”
With an unknown courage, you pushed the heavy door and stared at each of them. Shock reflected on their faces.
“I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to be happy, and I’m sorry for being in my little, weak bubble, but you’re probably right… I don’t belong here, I shouldn’t be a fucking Shelby.”
You didn’t waste another second to listen their answer, you turned your back at them and stormed out of the office, rushing towards the doors.
“Y/N wait!”
“Shit, how long has she been listening behind the door?” Ada asked.
“Did she really curse?” John asked shocked.
“I hope you’re fucking happy now, look at what you caused.” Tommy spat at Michael, leaving his family to go after his daughter.
But he wasn’t fast enough to go after you, when he reached the fountain, your small figure had already disappeared from his eyesight.
Looking down, he found the ribbon you always wore around your hair on the floor, about to fly away with the wind. Crounching down, he took it between his fingers, kicking himself internally at the thought of you feeling hurt.
“Get me the horse!” He barked, realizing how he wouldn’t be able to reach you by car.
You felt the way your heart was beating, uncontrollably while the tears blurred your vision. Realizing how silly you felt by thinking that you had found your place.
Being a Shelby by name wasn’t enough for them, no, you had to cut people’s eyes and be ruthless and clearly, you weren’t like that.
And you’d never be.
Your legs were burning from running, after moving aimlessly you sank down, finally letting out a sob from the deepest part of your soul.
You felt broken inside, sad because no matter what, you would never be a part of their world, you didn’t understand the family business, didn’t feel familiar with weapons, you were weak according to them.
Perhaps Michael was right after all.
Back at the house Polly scolded her son for the words he said, should mind his own business and stay away from you.
“You have to change that bloody attitude, Y/N is one sweet little child, she lost her mother.”
“She’s not a child and Charlie lost his as well and he doesn’t go trying to get Tommy’s attention all the fucking time.”
“It’s a different dynamic Michael, you can’t expect them to behave the same.” Ada interrupted him.
“Y/N and Tommy have a special bond.” Polly admitted sipping on her tea. “You can see it in his eyes… Y/N’s mother was the love of his life.”
“I don’t remember her much.” Ada expressed pouring herself some whiskey.
“I didn’t even know he had a secret relationship with her.” Arthur sighed.
“They were young and in love.” Polly explained, she had covered her nephew a couple of times from his father for not being around, lied saying she asked him to run some errands. “She was a good girl, but I never saw her again. Guess her parents moved out angry when they realized she was pregnant.”
“I can’t find her.” Tommy announced with his breath caught up in his throat and a panic look in his eyes. “Arthur, John come with me. Ada take the car around,” he clicked his fingers. “Want every single maid looking for Y/N.”
Then, he threw his cousin a death stare. “If anything happens to me daughter… you’re a death man.”
Tommy couldn’t conceive the idea of you being out on your own at night, he needed to protect you.
In his heart he made a promise to your mother the day you showed up in his house with the letter she wrote him, explaining everything; how her parents sent her away to live with an aunt in the mountains when they found out she was pregnant, they let her keep you but under the condition of being raised as a sister and not daughter.
And he was failing.
Defeated, he rode back home, trying think a plan to find you. Where would you go?
He felt desperate and frustrated, about to explode from the worry, after returning to the property finally he stopped to let someone take his horse to drink some water after spending hours looking out for you. Taking his watch from the pocket in his vest he noticed it was close to sunset now and it would get cold.
If only he could tell you how much you meant to him.
They looked for you at the stables and around Arrow House, but you were nowhere to be seen. Tommy started to feel like a lion inside a fucking cage, he needed to calm down to think where would you go, looking to his right, his eyes fixed on a bush and that gave him the hint to go and look at the garden.
Feeling his heartbeat drumming in his ears, Tommy was determined to find you so he entered the maze. He followed the herbaceous border and took a right to find the fountain, walking past the yew buttresses. Wiping the sweat from his chin, he noticed a silhouette sitting by the steps of the gazebo.
And he couldn’t feel more joy in his chest, recognizing immediately it was you.
“Y/N.” He whispered out of breath.
You were pale and didn’t answer him.
Once more, he called your name, finally getting close enough to touch you. “Wake up baby girl.”
“Daddy?” You blinked away a few times, taking in your surroundings.
“You’re so cold.” He took his coat off and wrapped it around your shoulders.
The previous events slowly coming back into your memory. You probably fell asleep after crying endlessly.
“I’m sorry I’m a disappointment to the Shelby name.”
“Oh my darling you could never disappoint me.” He rocked your body slightly, trying to warm you up with his hands. “You have more heart than anyone in that house.”
“I dreamed of Mum… she gave me a hug and a kiss and said it would all be alright, because I’ve you.”
Tommy wasn’t able to answer as the words got caught up in his throat, so he did something he rarely did.
His arms wrapped around your back and he pushed you in a tight hug.
One that was repairing him from the inside out. One that was repairing his broken heart.
“I know my girl, cause she will always be with us.” He kissed your hair and looked up in the starry night thinking of your mother and how much he had loved her. “Let’s get you home.”
From afar, Polly witnessed the interaction knowing nothing in this world would ever tear you and Tommy apart.
“But they don’t think I belong here.”
“You belong here way more than any of them, this is your house and this is your family and they’ll have to learn to accept the fact that you’re the light of my eyes.”
And your eyes lit up by your fathers words, tears of happiness making your vision go blurry.
“I ordered the gardener to create this for you, it’s not finished yet though… I wanted you to feel in this place at home.”
Slowly, you broke away the embrace to look at your father, with a tender touch, he wiped the tears from the corner of your eyes.
“This is for you.” He encouraged with a smile. “It was a surprise I was saving for later.”
Taking in your surroundings, you couldn’t believe the beautiful oasis before your eyes. You haven’t noticed before.
“Daddy!” Your hands flew to your mouth. “That’s white daffodils.”
Tommy chuckled. “Oh don’t expect me to know that.”
“These are peonies!” You were delighted. “And irises.”
Tommy saw you moving around the garden, enjoying the peace you being happy in this place brought him.
Taking you by the shoulders, he made you turn around to face the gazebo.
“I particularly love that… imagined you sitting there for hours.”
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You were lost in the colors and smell, but soon you turned around to look at your father.
“Thank you for giving me this.” Your arms found their way around his body, time stood still.
“I was hoping this would be your refuge.” Tommy whispered, kissing the top of your head.
“Can we join the hug?” Ada interrupted, making you both turn around.
“I’m sorry about what Michael said,” your aunt Pol apologized, “I do enjoy your cheerful energy.”
“It’s a balm to this fucking family madness.” Ada explained.
They each linked their arms around you tenderly.
“You’re a sweet child and I love you.” Arthur blushed but joined the hug as well, behind him, uncle John looked at you.
“When you came into our lives, I knew it was you the one who could make him line up.” John winked at you.
“Come on you two, don’t stay back there.” Ada shouted at Finn and Charlie, who were standing awkwardly a few steps away.
“You’re the sweetest young girl, we love you just like that, Y/N it doesn’t matter what anyone tells you, don’t let this cruel world change you an ounce.” Polly said caressing your face.
And you believed her, them.
She then looked at her nephew.
“You did a wonderful job with this place, Tommy.”
He didn’t need something like this though, since he felt like having you close, was his own kind of refuge. His safe haven.
***
Master list
A/N: Oops this got a bit long 🤭 but there were so many things I needed to add, I hope you enjoyed it!
Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane
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First time MC met Gamigin
Gehenna was a beautiful country, especially when angels weren't attacking it. But you couldn't enjoy the warm rays of the sun or the lull of the soft breeze because you were laying in bed, curled up on the bed. You really shouldn't have eaten that strange looking cupcake Bael gifted you during your trip to Avisos. You pick up your phone and call Satan. He picks up almost imidiatly.
Satan: What happened?
Mc: Sataaaaan, I'm dyiiiiiiing
Before you could even finish whining, Satan broke down the door to your room. He usually knocked, but now it was an emergancy. After you explain to him that your stomach hurts, he decides to take you to Paradise Lost.
At the entrance of an intimidating hospital, Satan knocks at the door.
Satan: Lucifer!
A soothing voice filled with tired contempt answered back.
Lucifer: If you set foot in the hospital, I won't hesitate to shatter your bones.
Satan: It's not for me, dumbass. The child of Solomon has a stomach ache. Get your best doctors to heal them!
The door to the hospital opens and a kind looking demon takes you from Satan's arms.
Gamigin heard that a human was in Hell and that they were a big deal, but he wasn't expecting to see them here now. The magic pearl worked in his favour once more.
He pick you up bridal style and runs to an empty hospital room. The whole time he has a large smile on his face. Once you're set down he sits next to you and blushes.
Gamigin: You're not a devil, are you? Oh, this is so exciting. Ok, first, where does it hurt?
You pointed at your stomach and he nods. He puts a hand over it and you flinch. He asks you what you ate, you answer and he runs away from the room, bringing back a bottle of water and a pill.
Gamigin: We don't usually give pills to patients because we would run out of pain-killers swiftly. But this can be our little secret.
Gamigin was smiling and staring at you as you drank the pill. He shift closer to you and his blush darkens. You ackwardly look around and purse your lips, but Gamigin didn't seem to care realise you were feeling uncomfortable.
Gamigin: You should stay here... at least for tonight. All drugs have side effects, even though we try to make them as side effect free as possible. Plus, I'm pretty sure this was just a case of indigestion, but it could be worse! If you get sick at home it might take some time to realise it, but I can feel it instantly.
He was speaking fast and almost begged you to spend a night in Paradise Lost with him. You were used to being pampered and looked up to as the child of Solomon, and you couldn't argue with his logic.
Mc: Sure.
Gamigin: Really?! Oh, I'm so happy! I should introduce you to all my brothers! And then, you can tell me about how Earth is like. I've never been there, I've never met a human before.
Mc: Wait... you never met a human before?
Gamigin: No. I heard stories about Solomon from an old friend and some of my brothers, but I never met a real human before. Wait! Since you're not a devil, you should stay here in Paradise Lost with the rest of us!
You chuckle ackwardly and pet Gamigin's sholder while trying to understand how a demon that never met Solomon has a pact with him.
Your time in the hospital is spent cuddled up in bed with Gamigin while you tell him story from the human world and he told you about his adventures with his "brothers".
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The Machinist 3
Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible bullying, misogyny, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.
Summary: your new boss sets his sights on you. (short!reader)
Characters: August Walker
Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜
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You sit out on your front porch watching the lazy sun. It’s one of the rare days off where you’re not bogged down in chores. Just you and swing and a cup of coffee. After the week you had, you need the moment to just not think. 
You close your eyes and lean your head back. It’s the simple things. All you ever wanted was a place to call your own. You got a job that pays for all that. A job you’re good at but one you enjoy less by the day. 
A honk startles you from your serenity. You open one eye and slowly put your chin straight. The shiny black jaguar is out of place on the sleepy street. A few of the kids playing ball in the neighbours driveway stop to point and stare. Your curiosity hardly awakens as you guess at its driver before he appears. 
August steps out, almost comically big for the sleek sportscar. You sip your coffee and sway on the chains. He tilts his head in challenge as he comes around the hood. 
“Didn’t forget about little old me, did you?” He asks. 
“Just having a coffee,” you answer bluntly. You didn’t forget but hoped he did. 
“You’ll need the energy, I’m sure,” he comes down the walk, almost strutting.  
He doesn’t have his usual cap and flannel. His hair is combed neatly and he wears a navy tee so tight, you can see his muscles. You’re not sure they make any clothing that would fit him appropriately. You continue to drink and stare past him. 
“I’m sure google would be more helpful. That car has bluetooth, doesn’t it?” 
“Not as entertaining he insists, “you’re hardly dressed for a day out.” 
You hum and look down at yourself. You wear a pair of grey-green jogging pants and a loose tee; your usually affair for the week. Alone. You sigh and drain the last of the dark roast. 
“Go get changed,” he orders. 
You look at him but don’t move. His entitlement tweaks your eye brow. You take a breath and let it go slowly. 
“Now don’t go getting uppity,” he warns with a wag of his finger, “we might not be at work, but I’m still the boss,” he climbs the porch steps one at a time and stops, leaning on the post beside him, “aren’t I, princess?” 
You stand with the cup in hand, “sir. I’ll go throw on some jeans.” 
“Skirt,” he corrects you. 
“Don’t have any.” 
“Dress, then. I wanna see your legs.” 
You nearly crumple up in disgust. You repress a snarl and swallow, “none of those either.” 
“If it wasn’t indecent, I’d say naked,” he retorts, “since you only dress like some teen boy. Shorts, then, I’m sure you can find something.” 
You blink dully, “I’ll have to look around. Might take a while.” 
“If I have to come in there,” he warns. 
“Five minutes,” you relent and spin on your heel. 
Despite your promise, you are anything but expedient. You rinse out the mug and leave it in the rack. You make your way upstairs and open your dresser, not paying much mind to any of it. You really don’t have what he’s looking for. You aren’t what he’s looking for. You’re sure he could hit the bar downtown and find a pretty bimbo. 
You pull on a plain burgundy tee and the black jean shorts with a run in one leg. You check your reflection but don’t put much into fixing it. You look fine. Teeth brushed, moisturized, what else can you do? 
As you come downstairs, you’re annoyed to find him in your entryway. He has no shame. He shuffles through the mail on the corner table. You reach for your blue sneakers. He coughs and turns to watch you. 
“Definitely not the heel type, are ya?” He remarks. 
You shrug and tie the laces. You stand straight and grab your denim jacket and keys. He reaches to stop you, grabbing the other sleeve. 
“Whatcha covering up for?” 
You nearly roll your eyes. You won’t give him the fodder. You let go and tuck the keys into the small pocket of the short. You grab your wallet and put it on the other side of your hips. 
“We’ll fix this,” he flicks his finger up and down. “I know you think you can run with the big boys but you’re a woman underneath it all. No point tryna hide.” 
“I’m fine.” 
“I didn’t ask,” he growls, “that’s a problem too. You talk when I want you to.” 
You should tell him to fuck himself. You should spit in his face. By the smug smirk dimpling in his cheek, that’s exactly what he wants. No. You’ll let him get bored. You wipe your expression and blink. 
“Well?” He huffs. 
“Yes, sir.” 
“Good girl,” he reaches to pat your head like a dog. You try not to wince away, repulsion roiling from his touch. You lift your chin instinctively and he narrows his eyes, stepping closer as he does. He snickers as sets his jaw square, “don’t worry, I know how to break a stubborn bitch like you. Make her into a loyal little hound slobbering for my attention.” 
You look back at him blankly. He waits. You let him. No reaction. Frustration tics in his cheek and his lips straighten. 
“First thing,” he grabs your arm as he turns for the door, “we find something to dislodged the rod from your ass.” 
He drags you outside and keeps hold of you as you turn to lock the door with your other hand. He tugs you so your wrist twists as you struggle to slide the keys free. They jangle with you as he hauls you forward, your feet clattering down the steps. 
“Keep up, princess, your carriage awaits.” 
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copinghex · 19 days
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Behind the curtains | T.S
Summary: You, who once dreamed of being an actress, find out Tommy wasn't supportive as you thought he was | dark!AU
A/N: In dark!Tommy we (should not) trust.
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The street was bustling far too much for a Thursday evening. With the sunset near, the cold breeze brought a shiver under your delicate shawl, a gift from Tommy, the pattern gave you a soft yet elegant look, just like every clothing he provided.
Inside Small Heath's church, everything could be heard, a tiny ginger woman thanked the priest in the confessional and walked away, her heels against the wood floors echoed in the whole building. Outside, cars drove by the street and groups marched on the sidewalk.
The few remaining sun rays shone through the stained glasses, painting colored shapes on the walls. At the altar, the candles burned warm orangish on the hem of Mother Mary's veil.
Your heart stung, tears threatening to run down your face, not even the sacred place served some relief, perhaps only going back in time would, back before you ever rented a room on Watery Lane.
“Alone for once, Mrs. Shelby?” the priest asked.
“I'm never alone, father, not for long,”
“Well,” the old man smiled in pity, “would you like to confess?”
“No, I just-” few tears ran down which you quickly brushed off, “I thought I was marrying a sinner, but I guess I married the devil himself,”
“These are strong words, some sins might be worse than others, nonetheless are all sins, worthy of forgiveness for those who regret,” he reprimanded, “is it alright if I leave you alone? I promised to visit a sick child,”
You nodded and he left, it was the first time you were alone in a long while. Tapping your feet on the floor, there was nothing more to do than wait, peeking at the watch on your wrist, it wouldn't take long for you to be found.
The devil walked through the door exact twelve minutes later, you didn't even have to look, only recognize his walking pattern.
“Know the truth and the truth shall set you free,” you said.
“John, eight thirty-two,” he stood beside your bench, “this doesn't seem like a theater to me,”
Earlier that day, you told Tommy you'd watch a play for the evening, the sudden change of events led you to the local church, “I couldn't stand watching it knowing I could be on the stage,”
“It's really a shame, isn't it?”
“Oh, stop it!” you snapped, “The director told me everything! He showed me a resigning document I never signed!”
Tommy's face closed off, taking a cigarette from his pack, he sat near you, “Mr. Thompson talks too much,”
“He showed me proof, my signature in a paper I never saw! How could you do this to me?!”
“How could you do that to me?” he challenged, “I let a woman go to New York with my baby in her womb, I let her sail away for a promising life with you,”
“Oh,” you scoffed, “the woman who betrayed you?”
“She was more willing to marry me than you ever was,” the comparison and disdain in his words hurt you, “I had proposed to you, you said you needed to think, but you know what hurts the most? I knew if Thompson casted you for another play, you'd had left me without question,”
Your chest weighed in tension, Tommy never talked to you so frankly and the impact your previous insecurity had on him seemed to turn at you with full force. To you, it was simply being divided between a career and marriage. To him, it was an ultimate act of betrayal, a spurn of his love.
“Why didn't you take her then? Why not sail to New York? To a more certain future?” you hesitated.
The humiliation of the first answer to cross Tommy's mind would never leave his lips. Because he loved you. He gulped, looking at you with squinted eyes.
“You don't know what you're saying,” he drawled, “you'd be nothing without me,”
“You took away my choice! I spent months waiting to be casted, waiting for a call I'd never get and you knew it,”
“I did, I spared you from a life of supporting roles,”
“Is that what you tell yourself? To feel less guilty?”
“What about this,” Tommy offered, “this item is done, I lied and you found out, now you go to the car, we go home and I treat you right for the night,”
“You can't possibly think sex will fix this,” standing up, you walked past him heading to the door.
Pragmatic as you were, the next logical decision would be leaving him. Tommy ruined your dream, sabotaging and betraying you, he also rooted himself deep inside your heart.
As pragmatic you were, the possibility of leaving him never existed and as tears ran down your face, you walked straight to his car.
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decembermidnight · 8 months
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Bad Attitude
Summary: While on patrol duty, you chase a suspect starship but end up crashing on a freezing planet. Its pilot, a Mandalorian, rescues you, but he doesn't like your attitude towards him and makes sure you understand who is in charge.
Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader
Word count: 6.1k
Warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, teasing, dom!din, brat!reader, brat tamer!din, Din is really an asshole here lol, improper use of the darksaber, lots of dirty talk, oral (m receiving), breath play, choking, fingering, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, degradation kink, praise kink, creampie
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A/N: Loosely based on The Passenger episode and super canon divergent. I just had fun having nasty thoughts! Reblogs and comments are always welcome!! Hope you enjoy it!
Divider: @saradika-graphics
Masterlist - Read on Ao3
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You… You really did have to follow that ship on this forsaken planet, didn't you?
You couldn't just listen to your partner Carson for once when he warned you to let it go.
Chasing that Razor Crest despite the bad weather on Maldo Kreis was not the smartest idea. Not smart at all, in fact. 
You were only supposed to ask the pilot why his ship was in the proximity of that prison, Bothan-5, when that officer was killed, but he ran away as soon as he heard that name. You immediately started recklessly chasing that old piece of junk in the hostile atmosphere of this awful, unwelcoming planet, and next thing you know your Starfighter crashed, compromising the integrity of the hatch, you’re cut off from your partner and you’ll likely freeze to death before he can come rescue you. Could it get any worse?
It turns out it can.
Just when you switch the radio off, resigned to accept the unavoidable fate, your eyes seem to catch something dark in the snowstorm. At first you assume it’s just your mind playing tricks on you, but when you take a better look, you see it - there’s a dark figure approaching your ship. It must be him - the Razor Crest pilot. As he gets closer, you notice he’s wearing armour, a Mandalorian armour, and you’ve heard the stories about those deadly warriors. You probably made him angry with your insistent pursuit and now he might be killing you so as not to leave witnesses.
You are so fucked. This is the worst day of your life, and also the last.
He lifts the damaged hatch of your ship and looks at you, exposing you to the freezing air of the blizzard. You stare back at him - his broad figure completely towers over yours, but you try not to look intimidated by him.
"Razor Crest, is that you?" you say in a secure tone, wanting to appear tough.
"Yeah." the modulated voice answers as you feel his dark visor lingering on your figure.
"Came here to finish the job?" you try to sneakily grab your blaster in a desperate attempt to defend your life, determined not to die without fighting, or at least, not without trying. 
"Not if you don't try anything stupid like that. Put it down." says in an authoritative tone, his right hand instinctively goes on the holster of his blaster. You quickly realise this is not the moment for heroism if you want to survive. 
"Don't give me orders. I'm a New Republic officer." you reply firmly.
He scoffs and shakes his head in disdain.
"Dear officer, take a good look around. This frozen tomb doesn't look like New Republic territory to me." he goads you "Now quit it and let's go to my ship."
"Who says I want to come with you?"
"Come on, I’m freezing my ass off, for fuck’s sake." he loses no time in ripping your seatbelt and life support system off your body before grabbing you and carrying you over on his shoulder.
"Put me down! You're so rude!" you protest and try to kick him, but he blocks your legs in the tight grasp of his free arm, immobilising you.
"So far I've been more kind than you deserve. If you keep acting like that, I'll show you how rude I can be." his grip is firm and strong as he gives a warning squeeze to your thigh.
You do not want to admit it, but you feel a thrill of excitement at that - he doesn’t care about the fact that you're a law enforcer, he’s treating you like the scum he’s used to. He probably wants to trade your life for his freedom with Carson later - you’re his hostage now.
When you reach his ship, he finally puts you down. You take off your helmet and look at the Mandalorian that so unceremoniously saved you from certain death earlier.
You realise how much taller than you he is, his armour making him even broader than what he already is. Your eyes can't help lingering on his body in wonder at how strong he must be, how the shiny beskar perfectly completes his thick masculine figure, only adding to his already imposing stance, perfectly concealing his body, making him massive and statuesque. His suit is tight around the arms, you can see the outline of his thick, strong biceps. If only he wasn’t a criminal, if only you weren’t a New Republic officer, if only he wasn’t a complete cunt…
"You done?" a low, baritonal voice interrupts your dirty thoughts.
"Excuse me?" you raise a brow.
"I asked if you're done checking me out."
“What?! I wasn’t-” you lie and you both know it. You do not feel so cold anymore, your cheeks feel hot all of a sudden.
“Yeah. Sure.” the asshole teases as he rests against the wall of his ship, looking at you with crossed arms.
“You hurt?” he then asks.
“No, I’m fine.”
"Good. Let's go up to the cockpit, then. It's warmer up there." 
He climbs up the ladder and when the door closes behind him, you take a deep breath, trying to collect yourself, and follow him. 
When you get in the small room, you find him sitting in the pilot chair facing the windshield with crossed arms and legs spread wide. You settle on his side, standing with crossed arms and gaze fixed on his body. He’s as still and silent as a statue, unreadable under that helmet - is he really relaxed as he wants you to think, or is he carefully studying you? 
"Don't look at me that way." says without moving a muscle.
"How?"
"Same way you've been looking at me since we got on the ship."
"What are you implying?"
"Don't act like you don't know." he turns towards you and stands up, making you imperceptibly startle. He looks imposing and menacing, his helmet slightly tilted observing you.
"You don't trust me one bit, do you?" he scoffs and shakes his head.
"You assaulted that prison and killed that poor man. He was a New Republic officer, just like me. Why should I trust you?”
“Because I didn’t do it.”
“Why should I believe you?”
“What will you do when you find out I was right all along?” the way he doesn’t lose his cool is fascinating, to a degree.
"You’re not. If you were innocent, you wouldn’t have run away and we wouldn't be here now."
He tilts his helmet to the side once again as he looks at you. His gaze and his confidence make you feel hot and uncomfortable at the same time - you wouldn’t want to give out the undeniable way his stoic charm is affecting you, but you hate the way he's been treating you.
"Yeah, we wouldn't be here." he lets out in an allusive tone as he walks one single step forward while you take one back, ending up against the wall. He's so damn tall and broad and… and you're getting so wet. 
You look into his dark visor, feeling his gaze lingering on your body. You can feel the tension, the atmosphere in the cockpit becoming unbearable. It's getting hard to breathe, heat radiating from both of your bodies as you never stop looking at each other. While his sight is unreadable, yours is unmistakably libidinous, your heart pounding in your chest and your pussy throbbing with need, but you're both too proud to surrender first.
"I guess not. You coward." you let out in a far too flirtatious way as you look at him with shameless lust.
"What did you just call me?!" he rasps, sounding so provocative. 
"Coward. That's what you are. Running away from me when I was chasing you and taking me hostage when I was so vulnerable.”
“Shut up.”
“So big and tough in your shiny armour, but you run away as soon as you see a New Republic patrol. I should have just shot you when I had the chance. At least I wouldn’t be sharing this ship with a coward.”
“I said shut up.” 
“What now, Mandalorian? What do you plan to do now that you've kidnapped me? Are you gonna prove me wrong?" you’re wondering if you got too far when he gets dangerously close to you, his menacing figure towering over yours as he grips a handful of your hair, forcing your gaze into his dark visor.
"Do I have to stick my cock in your mouth to make you shut up?"
A flame of lust instantly traverses your body. You feel your blood boiling, making you feel hot and flustered, reason and common sense leaving you at the mercy of a primal, carnal instinct.
"I bet you don't have the balls to do it." you goad him with a smirk on your face.
Oh, you shouldn't have said that, yet you did, and what's worse is that you don't regret it. 
You look at him with shameless desire clouding your eyes, internally cursing at the helmet that can't and won't let you see his reaction to your provocation, waiting for his next move.
You keep your lustful gaze locked on his visor as his hand swiftly unfastens his belt and the zip of his pants. His grip on your hair tightens even more as he pushes you on your knees, immediately sticking his hard, thick cock in your mouth and fuck, the sound he makes. It's worth crashing on a desolated planet and being scolded afterwards. It's guttural and desperate, astonished at how good your poisonous mouth feels when you take him in and your tongue gently swirls around his tip, instead of spitting mean words at him. You keep eye contact as you let the shaft slide in your mouth and coat it generously in your saliva, his head tilted back as he lets out breathy sighs of pleasure.
"You. You need to learn how to fucking behave. Shut up when I tell you to. You have to stop taunting me. Fuck. Is this what you wanted?" 
He takes your head away from his cock to let you answer.
“You’re not as much of a coward as I thought you were.” you tease.
“You are still talking?!” exclaims as he pushes your head towards his cock once again, staying still as he uses your mouth for his pleasure, violently forcing all of his length down your throat. When he rips you away from it, you gasp for breath.
"You look so good like this. On your knees, choking on my cock, finally shutting the fuck up like a good girl." he growls, pleased.
Just as you want more of it, your mouth going towards it once again, his grip on your hair turns to steel and stops you there. You look up to him from your kneeled position and see him shaking his head.
“Why? Are you close already?” you taunt him as he tucks his cock back in his pants.
"Oh, it will take you way more than that to make me come, officer." says as he makes you stand up.
“Bet you want me to prove you wrong so badly. Bet you want to come in my m-” you stop mid sentence as he starts to unzip your flight suit while he pushes you towards the control panel of his ship, making you sit on it and trapping you there with his beskar body, your legs instinctively spread open for him to fit between them.
“Yeah? Go on. What were you saying?” he goads you as his hand slips inside of the thin pants you're wearing under the suit, teasing your clit from outside your underwear.
“I-I was s-saying that - that-” you gasp when his hand finds its way into your panties and reaches your slit.
"Ooh, what do we have here?" exclaims in taunting wonder. His beskar helmet is only a few centimetres distant from your face "Acting all cocky and arrogant before, but damn, feel how wet you are. Bet no one ever made you this wet, officer. Stars, you're dripping for me. All of this just from sucking my cock?" says in a husky voice as two of his thick, gloved fingers slide inside of you.
You grit your teeth in a desperate attempt to hide the way this is making you feel, not wanting to give him satisfaction, but your body is slowly surrendering to him and betraying you, your cunt involuntarily clamping around his fingers, revealing how his words are, in fact, effective on you.
"Oh, I bet you feel so good and you sound so sweet when you moan for me. Feel how hot and tight you are." he keeps teasing you. 
Resisting him is getting near impossible. By now he knows how badly you want it.
"Listen to what we’re gonna do now. You're gonna come on my fingers like a good girl and then I'll fuck you until your partner comes to rescue you."
You can't help it anymore and let out a moan at how sensual his voice sounds as he says those things to you, at the thought of getting fucked by him, all while his fingers keep sliding inside and outside of you, making your cunt spasm around them.
"Oh, I knew it. Damn, such a sweet girl." he rasps as he takes his fingers out.
"What the fuck?!" you snap at him when he does, making him chuckle at your reaction.
"Hey, calm down officer." he teases your lips with his gloved fingers soaked in your arousal. 
You instinctively suck the leather and taste yourself on his fingers, licking them sensually as you look at him in the visor. He hums in pleasure seeing that and goes on playing with your mouth, entranced by the way your tongue swirls around them, until he takes them out and presses his middle finger on your bottom lip.
"Bite." he simply orders and you obey, taking the hem of his glove between your teeth to let his hand slip out of the glove. It's huge compared to yours, callous and veiny and masculine. You hum as it starts trailing down your body and feel the warm trail it leaves on the delicate skin of your neck as he caresses it, your own hands holding tight to the commands of the ship, propping you up to offer yourself to his touch. You can feel his eyes looking at your body from behind the dark visor as his hand slips in your flight suit once again, groping your breast from outside your shirt, his thumb playing with one of your hardened nipples, your back arched and chest puffed out to make it look fuller. You moan loudly when he slides his fingers in your panties and back inside of you. 
"Stars - so fucking wet. I bet your cunt is so beautiful. Spread your legs for me. You're making me so fucking hard." he keeps up the pace and also starts to rub your clit with his thumb, making the pleasure you’re feeling unable to hide and you surrender to him, panting heavily as your eyes cross and roll in delight.
"Really? Eyes rolling, officer?" he taunts you.
"F-fuck y-you-" you rasp with half closed eyes, your sentence gets interrupted as he hooks his fingers, touching something devastating inside of you, making him scoff when he sees the way you squeeze your eyes shut and arch your back, your mouth wide open to let out obscene moans.
"What? Do you want me to stop?" he provokes you.
"Don't you fucking dare." you manage to let out in a barely audible sigh.
He immediately grabs your neck, not liking the way you undermine his authority.
"Careful now, officer." he growls.
You moan back in response at how much you like this - being put back into place, the Mandlaorian reminding you who is in control. You hold tight to his sides, digging your nails in his flight suit as he just pushes you further against the control panel with his body.
You’re a panting mess and you feel so close, so damn close to your orgasm. You beg he won’t stop as you wrap your legs around him. He feels by the irregular, ragged way you're breathing and the way your muscles go rigid around him that you're close.
"What? Coming already?” he chuckles “I will let you just because I want to fuck you so badly. Now come, my dear officer. Come for me."
You pant straight into his helmet when you hear him calling you like that, fogging it where his mouth would be. His hand pushes you over the edge and you moan loudly as he makes you come around his fingers, your hands holding tight to his neck, bringing him down towards you. Your back arches, chest rubbing against his armour and you roll your head back until it hits the transparisteel of the windshield behind you. Your nails scratch him hard and your legs’ grip becomes even tighter, his upper body now trapped in your grasp.
He grabs your chin with his other hand and forces you to look at him in the visor.
"Yes - yes, yes. Like this. Good girl." he growls between his teeth, looking at you as you struggle to keep your gaze on him, your eyes wanting to roll up in pleasure.
He lets you ride your high, never stopping those astounding moves of his hand, making you feel so satisfied, but so guilty and humiliated at the same time.
As the orgasm gradually fades out, your grip on his body loosens.
He takes out his hand right in front of your eyes and, Maker, it's soaking wet, glistening in your arousal. You’re both embarrassed and aroused when you see how wet and yielding you got for him as soon as he started touching you. 
"Damn, officer. How am I going to-"
You don't even let him finish, you've taken his hand in yours and start sucking his fingers. He lets out a satisfied hum when you do that. You clean them thoroughly, sensually massaging his digits with your tongue, humming as you hear him cursing between his teeth in a foreign language.
Once he’s satisfied, he takes them out of your avid mouth.
"Now strip for me, officer. I bet you look so hot under that uniform."
"Forget it." you tease him.
"Too bad you didn't obey me when I asked so nicely."
In an instant his hands start ripping the flight suit off your body as you're kicking out of your boots at the same time. It's rushed, brutal and wild, the both of you completely taken over by lust. His hands linger on your sides, giving you goosebumps and making you sigh when he lifts the thermal shirt off your body and you hold on tight to the panel when he hooks his fingers in the hem of your pants and pulls everything down and away from your body, leaving you completely naked in front of him.
“You look… Good without your uniform on, officer.” he is pleased looking at your naked body. “Wonder if I could say the same about you, Mandalorian.” “You’ll have to use your imagination."
“Are you even a real Mandalorian? Maybe you stole this armour, or maybe you bought it off some Jawas.” you mock him.
"Come here and I’ll show you." he simply says as he sits back on his chair, legs spread wide and a visible bulge in his pants.
Just as you get close to him, he takes out one of his weapons, a strange sword without a blade, and begins to trace your nipple with the hilt. You start to breathe heavily and you can feel your nipple getting harder by the second, your eyes carefully following his movements as he descends ever so slowly, teasing you, trailing your stomach and then your lower belly, stopping right in front of your cunt, driving you crazy, your legs spreading for him, begging for some friction. He softly brushes your lips, carefully avoiding your clit to tease you further, until he finally touches it. The sudden contact of the hilt with your sensitive clit makes you shudder and let out a whimper.
"Don't. Move." he orders as he continues to touch you with that weapon, rubbing it against your clit, producing obscene, wet sounds at the contact. You try to stay as still as you can as he plays with that dangerous weapon so close to your most delicate spot. You beg he'd go faster, you wish you could ride it and come all over it, as pathetic as it sounds, but no, he doesn't want that. He wants to take his time to tease you, getting you nice and wet as he plays with you like you're his toy.
He stands up, towering over you.
"Stick your tongue out."
You immediately do and he starts to trace your mouth with the hilt.
"This is the Darksaber. Whoever wields it can rule all of Mandalore, and you're licking it after I've used it to give you pleasure. Feel how wet you’ve made it. How does that make you feel?"
“Like you should sit down on that chair and take out that cock. Touch yourself while I lick your Darksaber clean, Mandalorian.”
He grunts as you push him back on his chair. He immediately unzips his pants to take his throbbing cock out as you keep licking his weapon clean, pleased at the sight of his erection in his hand.
"Touch yourself for me, Mando" you order him as you trace your tongue on the hilt.
"Enough of that." he grabs you by the hair and pushes you on your knees, forcing you to suck his cock. In a swift movement he grabs the Darksaber with his two hands, using it as leverage to keep your head down, forcing his entire cock into your throat, making you startle at the sudden lack of air.
"You don't get to give me orders." he growls before freeing you from his grasp to let you breathe. You gasp for air and look at him, panting.
Maker, he's so dangerous. He could kill you in one second if he wanted to, and you've never, never been wetter than this, playing this dangerous, twisted game with a deadly warrior.
He gives you a few seconds to breathe and then he's back at it, using his weapon to make you choke on his cock.
"Do you understand? I can do whatever I want to you." he releases you once again. There are tears in the corner of your eyes but that doesn't stop him from doing that one more time.
"You're so fucking pretty, but you also need someone to tame you. You've found the right man. Is that what you were looking for, officer? Someone to tame that bad temper?" he says and releases you one more time. You gasp for air as one tear sheds down your cheek.
"Come here. I'll fuck that bad attitude out of you." he orders as he puts the Darksaber away.
This. This is what you've always been craving, what you always wanted.
You slowly rise from the cold floor, your hands on his thighs as you can't stop looking at each other with longing desire. You straddle him, shaking in anticipation as you sink on his body guided by his hands on your hips, letting his cock slowly slide inside of you. The both of you moan as his cock splits you open for him, making him feel how hot and welcoming you are. You both let out a long, satisfied sigh, his voice is dark and sensual and you spasm around his throbbing cock, heavily aroused to finally have him inside of you.
“Mando, let me see if you're only good with words now."
“Din. I want to hear you screaming my name when I’ll make you come on my cock, officer.”
“You’re pretty confident in your abilities, Mandalorian.”
“Your mouth might say otherwise, but your body agrees with me.” he's so arrogant and full of himself, his confidence is making you wet.
“It does” you concede “you feel good, Din.” you purr in his neck, and he grunts when he hears how sweet your voice can be as you whisper his name while you have his cock buried inside of you. You start riding him slowly, looking at him in the visor as you feel every ridge and vein of his cock, enjoying every single moment of it, letting him almost slip out, only to let him back inside of you. He lets out sighs of satisfaction that drive you insane and only want to make you increase your rhythm but no, not yet, you want to make him pay for the way he's been treating you.
“If I had known my cock would have been enough to tame your bad temper, I’d have fucked you earlier.”
“What about yours, Din? What should I do about you being an asshole to me?” you say as you pull him out of you, making him grunt.
“Fuck. Put it back in.” 
“Not so fast. I want you to behave. Beg for it.” 
“You know I could just take you anytime I want, right?” “I do. But where would the fun be?”
He hums in pleasure as you take his drenched cock in your hand and start to slowly stroke it right in front of your cunt, moaning in his neck just to get him even more aroused.
“Fuck. You’re good at this.” he whimpers.
You start to slide it between your folds, the both of you moaning in arousal.
“Dank Farrik, d-do you want me to die?” he growls, subjugated by your teasing. “I want you to behave.” you whisper in a heady groan as you keep rolling your hips and rubbing your pussy on his cock. “F-fuck. I want to be inside of you so badly.”
“Say it.”
He sighs and pauses, taking a good look at the tip of his cock teasing your entrance.
“Please.” 
“Please what?” you ask, biting your lip in pleasure.
“Please put my cock back inside of you, officer.” there's a hint of annoyance in his voice when he surrenders and sees your satisfied smirk.
“Good.” you whisper gasping against his helmet as you slowly slide his cock deep back inside of you. 
That’s the moment when he digs his fingers in your hips and starts jackhammering you, making you scream as he said he would, your hands clawing on his shoulders.
“Who do you think you are? Do you think you can taunt me? I’m a Mandalorian. A bounty hunter. Bet you’ve never been fucked so good, officer. I’m gonna give you this cock so hard, you’ll never forget about me. You’ll be touching yourself thinking about me for the rest of your life. Thinking about the Mandalorian Din Djarin who fucked your brains out on Maldo Kreis.”
The way he's fucking hard and rough into you as he says those things in an angry, husky voice is pleasurably devastating and addicting, having you moan frantically as your body is held still by his strong hands.
"Oh, fuck, Din, don't stop. Don't stop!" you let out in a desperate cry.
"Do you want to come on my cock, officer? Let me hear it. I want to hear you beg for it."
"Please, please Din, make me come on your cock." you drawl, subjugated by lust.
"Mmm - you sound so hot when you beg for me. Keep going and I won't stop."
"Please! I've never been fucked like this, Din." your heart is racing, your breathing is getting laboured and feel the orgasm approaching “I'm so close, Din, so fucking close. Please, don’t stop."
"Come, officer. Keep riding my cock and come on it. I want to hear you scream my name." 
"Oh, Din!" you scream his name as the overwhelming force of the orgasm washes over you, a white blaze of bliss making you lose control, uncontrollably spasming and sensually moaning as he doesn't stop giving it to you, groaning in pleasure when he feels how tight and wet you get around him when you come on his dick.
"That's it. That's my good girl." he grunts as he lets you ride your orgasm.
His rhythm slows down as you come back from your high, his hands still firmly on your hips, guiding you, making you slowly grind your pussy against his cock, the cockpit full of your pants.
"Ready for round two, officer?"
He doesn’t even wait for your response, your mind still fogged by the astonishing orgasm he just gave you.
He gets up from the chair and in a second he turns you around, your body slammed against the control panel and the windshield, your wrists held up high by his hand. Your legs are shaking and you can't really seem to stand on your feet properly.
You couldn't possibly be ready for him slamming his dick inside of you all at once, so hard that air leaves your lungs in an exhale. You'd curse at him, but you can't articulate words as he is fucking you so violently, his strong hand on your hip keeping you still. If you thought he was fucking you hard earlier, it's nothing compared to now - feeling all the power of his body giving it to you wild and raw is pleasurably devastating. You couldn't possibly have imagined that what he gave you earlier was merely foreplay for him, just a little tease before making sure you knew who is really in charge and how hard he can fuck you. He was just letting you have a small taste of what would happen after, wanting you to get ready for him, nice and wet and stretched open for his thick cock to split you in half. He grabs a fistful of your hair and you feel his helmet close to your ear.
"What? You're out of breath already? I'm just getting started, officer." he slides it out almost completely and slams it back in so hard you roll your eyes in pleasure.
"Look at you. Loving this dick so much you're rolling your eyes. Gonna fuck you so hard, you'll learn how to fucking behave." 
You can't do anything besides taking his cock and letting out choked moans.
"Still regret being stuck here with me? Tell me. Do you still think I'm a coward?" he growls in between thrusts.
You can barely drawl a moan in response and he chuckles.
"Yeah, I don't think so. You can't even speak." he mocks you as he pounds into you harder and harder, devastating you, reducing you to a pathetic, moaning mess.
"Who knows if the snow storm has stopped and your partner is looking for you. What if he sees you getting fucked like this?"
You know it's wrong, but the thought turns you on so much that you clench around him, and he feels it.
"Oh, you'd like it? Officer, what do we have here? A little whore?" you hear his dark chuckle as he grips your throat with his hand, bringing you closer to him - the hot, naked skin of your back against his cold beskar armour as he never stops railing you. 
Getting called like that in other circumstances, by any other person in the galaxy, would have caused you to shoot them immediately, but now, oh, did that turn you on.
"You like being called that way, don't you? Whore." he whispers softly in your ear, and it drives you insane despite how much you're trying to hide it. He feels your body getting rigid, the vibrations of your throat choking a moan, the way you bite your lip trying not to let one sound out, and you can bet he's loving every second of it. 
His other hand starts to rub your clit and that's when you fucking lose it - your mouth opens wide and lets out a loud groan of pleasure.
"Tell me you're my whore and I'll give you the best orgasm of your life."
You hesitate - his request is so degrading, but you want it at the same time. He can sense your indecisiveness and stops drawing circles on your clit and starts going around it, carefully avoiding it.
"N-no. Don't stop. It's unfair!" you whimper.
"Say it."
You try to relieve the ache between your legs by bringing a hand there, but he is quick to stop you and block your wrist behind your back, immobilising you as if you were one of his bounties, getting you even more aroused, so much, in fact, that you let out another groan.
"Don't make me handcuff you." he growls sensually and you immediately picture him fighting criminals every day, used to manhandling thugs and being a badass and you get even more aroused at the thought, and decide to give him whatever he wants.
You mumble those words, barely audible, ashamed but at the same time yielding, desperately and pathetically wanting him to give you what you so achingly crave, in a way that only he can provide. A need that you never even realised existed before he brought you into the highest dimension of pleasure.
"What? I didn't hear you."
"I am your whore." you whisper, annihilated.
"Good girl. Say it again. Louder this time."
"I am your whore, Din! Please, please make me come like this!" you surrender to him completely, defeated by your very body refusing to let this slip away.
"That's my girl. You asked so nicely, I'm gonna give it to you." you hear the satisfaction in his voice as he immediately starts to rub your clit again, driving you close to the edge in no time, your cunt getting tighter in anticipation.
“Shit, I want to come inside of you. I'm so fucking close, officer. You’re gonna patrol the outer rim, flying your Starfighter while my cum drips down your beautiful cunt. You’re gonna feel that and you will think of me the entire time.” he rasps in your ear as you feel his body pushing you further into the transparisteel and then over the edge, making you come screaming his name once again rolling your eyes over your lids, desperately begging him to come inside of you.
His groans get louder and louder as he comes. You feel his is cock pulsing and twitching, thrusting into you, wanting to go as deep as it can go, filling you with his hot release as you clamp erratically around him.
Both of your bodies are spent as you come back from your high, the sound of your laboured breathing fills the cockpit.
"Hey" he pants "keep it inside now. I don't want to see a single drop going to waste. Are we clear?"
You nod and he slips out of you slowly as you obey his order, keeping his release inside of you as you get dressed, feeling it drip between your legs as he walks you back to your ship.
Carson is already there - he has fixed the minor damages your X-wing had sustained when you crashed in the snow, confident in the fact that you found shelter somewhere and that you’re safe and will be back soon.
What he did not expect is for you to show up with the Mandalorian by your side, though.
"Can I have a few words with you?" he asks with a raised brow.
You nod and walk a few steps away from Din, going behind your ship to have some privacy.
"He saved my life." you regretfully admit before he even has a chance to speak, expecting a scolding.
"Listen. I run the tabs on the Razor Crest. It seems like your new friend has an arrest warrant on him for the abduction of a prisoner." he pauses briefly and lets out a sigh "But he has also captured three wanted culprits and tried to save the Lieutenant's life."
"I'd say we let him go this time. I really don't want to file a report about what happened. I hate doing that."
"Is that so?" he asks sarcastically.
"These are trying times, come on."
Carson raises his brow once again, looking at you and then at the armoured menace standing a few steps away from him.
“Fine.” he shrugs, not wanting to dig deeper with regards to your change of mind towards the Mandalorian, then gets back to his ship.
You jump in your X-wing, but before closing the hatch and taking off, you address Din one more time.
"We're even now, Din Djarin. See you next time, and don't get caught."
298 notes · View notes
skalfy · 8 months
Text
A Reputation for Good Taste
Misa x Reader, ~3.5k words, part 2/?
Part 1 here
Another part! Again, deeply unproofread, so apologies for any errors.
“I’m sorry, what??” Your friend made a show of rolling over to look directly at you where you lay, bundled in her bed. “You’re telling me that Alma cheated on you, then you drove her mistress home and somehow ended up seducing her into giving you free tickets to a football match? Actually, I’m not surprised about the Alma thing, sorry, but the rest is beyond me.”
“Maya!” You blushed hard. “None of that is what I said! Well, except for the Alma thing. I did not seduce María, and please don’t call her Alma’s mistress. All I did was drive her home and probably make her uncomfortable by crying about how I’m a bad aunt. She definitely only offered the tickets because she feels bad that my girlfriend cheated on me with her. It was so obvious that she thought she needed to do something to apologise.”
“If all she felt was guilty about Alma I hardly think she would go to the lengths she did, but out of courtesy to your broken heart,” she fixed you with a look, “I won’t argue about this right now.”
“Thank you, Maya.” You mumbled, then, “I don’t even know if my heart is broken. I’m angry at Alma for doing something so stupid to both of us, but it’s really been getting worse for a while, hasn’t it?”
“Oh honey, it has, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” She lifted the covers between you. “Now come here and let me cuddle you.”
You rolled over and let her pull you against her chest, relaxing into the comfort of your friend’s arms.
“I think my heart broke a while ago, but I really wish we would talked instead of this.” She just squeezed you tighter and you drifted to sleep.
--
You awoke the next morning alone in Maya’s bed, the sounds of her in the kitchen with Marc, her boyfriend, faintly audible from through the closed door. Your first thought was about Alma, and whether she had bothered to say anything to you since you left the flat. You quickly found your phone and unlocked it, opening the messages app. At the top there was an unread message, but it wasn’t from Alma. You tapped it open anyway.
María: Hi, good morning! I hope you are feeling okay and that your friend is taking care of you. I talked to the club and the tickets will be no problem and no cost. I’ll give you the details later :)
María: Do you have a jersey for the game?
Maria: It’s El Clásico, you have to wear one.
You felt a blush rise as you read the first message. It was sweet, but you were also a little embarrassed to think that María knew you needed taking care of. You quickly typed out a reply.
Me: Thank you so much, you have saved my aunt reputation and Luisa’s trip! And I am okay, thank you for asking. Between my old friend and a certain new friend who has gone out of her way to do me a big favor I’m feeling better.
You wrote and deleted the last line several times before hitting send, unsure how María would take it. You didn’t have to wait long to find out, the little dots that showed she was typing popped up after just a few seconds.
María: I think your new friend would be very glad to hear that, and glad to hear she is your friend, even if the circumstances you met in were not ideal.
María: You didn’t answer my question, do you have a jersey?
There was no resisting the grin that spread on your face as you read her message.
Me: Luisa definitely has a jersey, I got her one for Christmas.
María: I didn’t ask if Luisa had one, I asked if you did ;)
Me: Hmm, I think I have an old Barça one lying around somewhere.
You figured if she worked for worked for Real Madrid she must have a healthy animosity for the rival club, and it wouldn’t hurt to have a little fun about it.
María: We will discuss that later, but I might let it slide if it’s an Alexia kit. Sounds like you are in need of something to wear on Saturday. Green or white?
Me: Green?
María: Yes, it will bring out your eyes. Good choice!
María: Meet me for coffee? I will give you the jersey. Before you ask, it doesn’t cost me, I promise :)
Your head was spinning, but somehow you didn’t really mind. You weren’t about to turn down the offer for coffee, if for no other reason than to buy María acoffee as a thank you.
Me: I’d love to. Let me know when and where, I am off work today so anytime works.
She sent a link to a cute looking coffee shop and said to meet her there at 3 before signing off to get back to some work. You were still giving your phone a bewildered smile when Maya opened the door to her room to check in on you.
“My god, please don’t tell me Alma has sent you some ridiculous make up text that has you falling back under her spell!” You looked up at her words, startled and confused.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the lovesick smile you were just giving your phone when I walked in.” You scoffed in response to Maya’s words, but still felt a sudden urge to keep your conversation with María to yourself until you had a better idea of what was going on.
“I’m just smiling at the death march sightseeing tour mum has the family on today. I was planning to meet up with them, but the play by play is equal parts funny and frightening.” It wasn’t really a lie, you knew your mother well enough to know that your prediction was probably true, and you really were going to meet up with them. It just wasn’t exactly what had you smiling, or the afternoon plan you were most looking forward to.
Maya looked like she might say something more, but a particularly loud clang from the kitchen had her hurrying quickly back out. Alone again, you decided it was long time to get yourself ready for the day.
--
Dressed and showered, you caught Maya and Marc as both were headed out the door to work. Maya had instructed you to be back for dinner with the two of them, but otherwise you had free reign and your spare key. Sipping the cup of coffee one of them had left on the counter for you, you pulled out your phone and called your mum.
A short itinerary run-down later, you had plans to meet up outside their hotel and a half day of sightseeing between you and your unexpected coffee plans. That left only one other call to make, and it was one you didn’t want hanging over your head any longer. You dialed the number and listened as it rang through three times before you heard the other end pick up. When she didn’t say anything, you spoke first.
“Alma.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” She answered, the guilt unmistakeable in her voice.
“I’m sorry, too.” You sighed. “It was a shitty thing to do, though. I didn’t deserve that.”
“You didn’t.”
“Did you want me to see? You had to have known I wouldn’t be out that late.” You couldn’t help but ask. Her silence was all the answer you needed. “Okay. I’ll stay at Maya’s another night, but can you have your things out after that?” Thankfully, she had moved in with you only a few months back when her lease ended. Almost everything was yours, and you wouldn’t have the added insult of losing your flat along with your girlfriend.
“Yeah, I’ll pack everything today. I really am sorry.” You could hear her holding back tears, and you were struck by a pang of affection and sympathy for her. As cruel as cheating on you was, the last few months had been hard for both of you, and falling out of love with her first hadn’t been particularly kind either.
“Thank you, Alma. I hope things work out for you.”
“You too. I’ll miss you.” She ended the call, and you felt the weight on your chest ease.
--
It had been a long morning with your family, but you were immensely happy to have spent the time with them. Mum’s heavy-handed tourguiding made everyone laugh, but she had done her research well, and you were glad for it. Even after living in Madrid for three years, you still hadn’t taken the time to see all the sights. Plus, everything was more enjoyable with Luisa dragging you along to point out the best bits. You walked double the steps, but it was worth it to be honored as the most interesting adult, and you loved any opportunity to hear more about what her latest activities and interests were.
Having arrived a few minutes early to the coffee shop, you were lost in reflection on your family’s antics when the light touch of a hand on your elbow pulled you into the present. You jumped a little at the contact, and felt the hand grip a little tighter to steady you. It only took you a moment to look up and catch the owner’s warm brown eyes. As soon as you recognized her, María tugged you forward gently into a hug, and you sunk into the contact.
“Hi.” She said, releasing you to arm’s length.
“Hi, how are you?” You responded a little breathlessly as her hands finally fell away from your arms.
“Better now.” She answered you with a smile. “Have you been here before?” You shook your head no, returning her smile. “Good. It’s my favorite and I’m glad I get to introduce you to it. Come!” She pulled the door open and gestured for you to step inside. Stepping through the entrance, you were hit immediately by the rich smell of coffee, and you paused to appreciate it. You looked over your shoulder as María entered behind you and spoke with joking reverence.
“I think I’m in love already.” She chuckled and nudged you ahead with her own shoulder.
“You haven’t even tried it yet, keep walking!”
The two of you approached the counter and greeted the barista. You inclined your head to María to order first, and after a moment’s hesitation, she requested a café con leche Before the barista could give her a total, you ordered your cortado, card already in hand to cover both. You turned to look at the woman next to you and she raised her hands in mock surrender.
“Any pastries you recommend?” You asked, still looking at her.
“Everything is good, but my favorite is probably the pear tart.” She answered, and you looked back to the barista.
“One of those too, please.” She nodded, then recited the total and let you hand her your card. After ringing you up, she retrieved your pastry and passed it over on a plate with two forks.
You followed María to a quiet corner with an empty table. She pulled out one chair before walking to the other side and sitting down.
“Can’t risk you dropping our tart.” She said with a wink when you gave her a look. You rolled your eyes, but still felt a blush as you set the plate down carefully and took your seat. Her fingertips quickly snagged the edge of the plate, sliding it to her side of the table. It didn’t exactly bother you, but with her earlier chivalry you weren’t expecting her to immediately lay claim to the shared treat. You watched as she industriously carved out a bite with one of the forks, clearly taking care to perfect the crust to filling ratio and center a perfect slice of pear on the wedge she cut. Her focus was charming, but your mouth was nearly watering waiting for your turn.
“You have to have the perfect first bite, my reputation for having good taste could be on the line here if you aren’t impressed.” She spoke as she finally lifted her fork, extending it toward you with a shy smile. There was a burst of warmth in your chest as you realized the care she had taken was for you, even if it was only to prove she made the best choice. You opened your mouth and closed your eyes, leaning forward slightly to meet her over the table. Her free hand was loosely cupped under the fork to catch any crumbs, and it brushed your chin gently as you closed your lips over the forkful of tart. You tilted your head back as María pulled the fork away, instinctively raising your own hand as well. The back of her hand was soft where your palm met it, and she let it rest against yours for a moment before pulling away. Her trailing fingers were far from your mind, however, as soon as you began to chew the bite of tart. The flavor was divine, sharp and sweet and fresh all at once, paired with a perfectly buttery-flaky-crisp crust. María let out a burst of laughter and a fist pump at the wide-eyed nod you gave her when she asked if her reputation was secure, which in turn had you covering your mouth as you tried to swallow through a growing smile.
A barista calling out your orders had María quickly standing, waving off your offer to help, and gave you a chance to sneak a second bite and collect your thoughts for a moment. You felt silly for being so charmed by María’s kindness, from her it seemed more like second nature. Her actions, while some were a little over the top, felt like they came from a combination of genuine thoughtfulness and her desire to make you laugh. It struck you after a second, you felt taken care of. Not in the big-gesture way that Alma always wanted you to exhibit, hinting at big gifts and dramatic arrivals at her office to sweep her away to Ibiza, but something much gentler. It was nice, you realized-- both to be taken care of and for the acts to be so unpretentious.
“For you,” a hand touched your shoulder and your cortado was placed in front of you, “and for me!” María set her own cup down and took her seat, smiling and waving her hand dismissively as you thanked her.
The conversation flowed once again between the two of you, and you enjoyed it even more than you had the previous evening in your car. You managed to draw out the tart, each taking smaller and smaller bites until finally María nudged the plate toward you and insisted you take the final piece. You brought out a chuckle from her by solemnly confessing that you’d taken an extra bite while she fetched the coffees, and she happily stole the plate back to finish it off herself. With the food out of the way, you were both focused on each other, and you felt the heat of her gaze as she listened carefully to everything you said.
You covered a wide variety of topics, learning about her family and friends, her love for music, and the meaning behind some of her tattoos. She didn’t speak much about her work, but you could tell she was driven and passionate. You shared plenty in return, her open interest in what you said and thoughtful questions leading you down plenty of tangents, including a retelling of your family’s antics that had you both laughing. The two of you were so engrossed in the conversation, that it wasn’t until your phone started ringing that you realized how much time had passed.
“It’s the friend I’m staying with, I better answer.” You told María, who gave you a thumbs up as you stood to move a few paces from the table before you answered. “Hi Maya.”
“Girl, where are you?” She asked, skipping over any greeting. You looked down at your watch and realized it was after six. Not time for dinner yet, but Maya was no doubt expecting you to be there when she returned from work. You caught María’s eyes on you and rolled your own dramatically at her as you replied.
“Sorry Mum, I’m out with a friend and we lost track of time. I’ll be back soon. Do you need me to pick anything up on the way?” You could very nearly hear Maya’s eyes narrowing on the other end of the line.
“What friend? I know all your friends, they’re my friends. Unless…” You winced as she trailed off, realizing you didn’t want to have this conversation within earshot of María. “You’re with Alma? Or Alma’s m—”
“Okay! We can talk about this later!” You cut her off firmly, feeling your face heat as you wondered how audible Maya’s voice was from your phone speaker. “Also,” you continued, thinking it might be best to clarify once and for all, “I ended things with Alma officially this morning, so safe to assume I’m not with her.” Maya’s honest-to-god cheer was a bit embarrassing, but you did feel a little like cheering yourself, so you chose not to mention it.
“I’ll expect all the details when you get here. Be safe until then, love you!”
“Love you too.” You ended the call, looking down at your phone a few moments longer than necessary before raising your head to look at María. She had an unreadable expression, but quirked an eyebrow at you when you met her eyes.
“Your friend seems very fun.” She said, then after a pause, “sorry to hear about Alma.” It felt like she was giving you the option to choose whether you wanted to talk about it, which you appreciated.
“I’m not really sorry,” you said, “it should have happened a long time ago.” María kept her gaze on you, not interjecting, face carefully neutral. It reminded you of when you first looked at her in your lobby. In a quieter voice, you continued. “I don’t wish it did, though.” María’s easy smile was familiar to you already, but her lips didn’t curve this time. You felt a strong urge to leave quickly, or even better, for the floor to open up beneath you. Closing your eyes, you heard the chair scrape as she stood. How predictably thoughtful of her to leave you to recover from your embarrassment. Just as you listened for her departing footsteps, you were caught off guard by two strong arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. Your eyes opened in surprise, but it didn’t take you long to squeeze just as tightly back, relief coursing through you. María’s face pressed into the side of your neck, and you felt her speak, but the words were too muffled to hear. The two of you held each other close a while longer, before she pulled back enough to look at you.
“This might be the strangest friendship I’ve had, but I’m so glad I met you.” She said, smiling softly. You returned her smile, and couldn’t resist saying,
“maybe Alma did both of us a favor in the end.” She gave your shoulders a squeeze in lieu of answering, but spoke after a moment.
“I had better send you back to your friend before she grounds you, I would hate for you to miss the game because you aren’t allowed to leave your room for a week.” It made you laugh, but the possibility is more likely than you’d like to admit. Maya had a greater chance of grounding you than your own mother did, in all honesty. It’s enough to spur you into action, and, after returning your dishes to the counter, the two of you made your way out of the cafe. You hugged one more time, then parted ways, but a shout of your name had you turning around before you made it to your car.
“I almost forgot to give you this!” María held out a folded piece of bright green fabric to you. “It’s the whole reason I dragged you out here after all.” You took it from her and unfolded it, quickly realizing it was a Real Madrid jersey, though not in the colors you were used to seeing.
“I thought you were joking when you said green!” She laughed in response to your confusion and explained that it was a goalkeeper’s jersey, hence the bright color.
“I brought a regular one as well if you prefer.” She added, sounding a little uncertain.
“No way, this is much better,” you held it up to your chest, “does it bring out my eyes like you said?” She leaned in a little closer, reaching out to lift the fabric up to your cheek.
“Absolutely.”
--
That evening after you returned to Maya’s and took a longer look at the jersey you sent María a text with a picture of the back of the jersey.
Me: This Misa better be good if I’m wearing her name on my back
María: Don’t worry, I wouldn’t let you wear her name if she wasn’t
292 notes · View notes
mariariley · 1 year
Note
how do you think the 141 guys would answer your ft calls?
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141 x reader
answering your ft calls
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Word count: 0.7k
masterlist || have a request/ask? Here are the rules <3
Ghost
Probably won’t answer (hates fting (just like me))
If you’re pushy enough and keep calling him he just might answer because he would start getting paranoid it’s something urgent
Would tell you to fuck off if you just wanted to bother him (nothing personal, it would be sarcastic)
Will stay in the call though and it would probably end up being like 3 hours long
As time would pass perhaps he would start answering more often
He isn’t a fan of calling or texting or any of that stuff to be completely honest
But he just might do it for you
🖤
Soap
Is probably always asleep when you call him in his free time
Always answers anyway
It’s hard to get off the call though, blud just keeps talking
Will definitely bring his phone to the toilet and take a piss while still talking to you (you’d have to remind him to wash his hands every time)
Will always tell you to turn on the lights if you’re in the dark so he can see your pretty face
His fav thing to do is watch you show him what new stuff you bought
If you wear makeup, he would love seeing you do it
As your partner he would definitely be into freaky facetiming
Loves texting and calling in general, he’s a spammer when it comes to that
🖤
Gaz
Answers most of the time
Even when he doesn’t he apologizes over text messages and calls you back
Mostly outside when you call him so expect a journey through the city and subway with him
Loves staying with you on ft till late hours, just blabbering about anything
Would send kisses over the camera
Would watch movies and series with you while facetiming
You’d probably always be the first one to fall asleep because he would stay up on purpose to take screenshots and send them to you
Has a whole album of you being asleep on ft named “<3” (I promise it’s not creepy it’s just cute)
Though when he’d fall asleep first he would love you to do the same, he finds it wholesome
🖤
Price
Old bloke not a fan of ft
He isn’t that much of a boomer but definitely not a fan of some newer generation stuff
He would know how to answer but it would still look a little goofy because he’d always answer with “Can ya hear me/see me, luv?” or “How copy, luv?”
He’d ask you why you’re doing this because he doesn’t understand the point of face timing, he prefers regular calls
Though sometimes he would love to sit back and relax and just enjoy your blabbering and admire your beauty
Would always complain how he prefers seeing you in person because the front camera makes people look weird
🖤
Alejandro
Would always be happy when you call him
Is probably always cooking when you call him and, even when he isn’t, he would answer and go to the kitchen
Loves showing you new recipes he found and loves describing every ingredient
Probably one of his fav things to do with you when you’re physically distant - cooking facetime!
Loves dancing and singing while cooking so expect a ft concert too (you can never be bored with him)
Loves long fts so expect him to not let you hang up because he always finds an interesting subject to talk about
In the end he would always tell you how much he misses you being next to him
🖤
Rudy
Answers immediately. One ring and he’s there
The moment you call him he would leave everything and get in bed and ft with you forever if possible
Would also watch movies and series with you while facetiming
He knows how to play an acoustic guitar so one of his favorite things to do is play it and sing for you
It would mostly be some of his favorite slow and romantic Mexican songs
He likes to do this in the evening because it feels like he’s singing you a lullaby
So if you’d fall asleep to his singing, his heart would be full
He’d always whisper goodnight before hanging up
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Divider owners already tagged in my previous posts, I don’t want to spam them 🖤
1K notes · View notes
cherryheairt · 22 days
Note
Hi :)
I’ve had this headcanon for a while where thranduil, upon falling in love again, makes it quite obvious he feels strongly about reader but won’t push physical limits of affection quite yet. Due to him having been married before he wants to be sure the Gods approve of him falling in love/marrying again as to not cause ill intend to fall upon reader because of him not being in control of his carnal desires. Reader is oblivious to this and pushes/teases him relentlessly.
Might end in smut upon him knowing reader is safe and he may pursue them fully or just him saying fuck it I see no god but me down here lol
Or just might end in him teasing back big time n leaving reader high and dry (but maybe with an explanation lol we love some open communication ✨)
Thank you! And feel free to mix it up and or change ending I’d just love to see a take on this 🙂‍↕️
hello! I'm so sorry that its been forever since you submitted this. thranduil is a character that we only ever got to see in super serious king mode, and had little screentime at that so I wanted to think through his personality a lot. might be ooc
I personally don't know how to write smut, so I didn't include it. I hope that's okay.
The character will be named Myria (meer-rhea), but have no skin color, body shape, hair color, etc description. She is eleven though, if that matters.
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👑
The Gods had long since forsaken Thranduil. After he lost his wife, Legolas' mother, the world seemed to darken along with his own attitude. He changed, and everyone in Middle Earth knew it. Legolas never grew up to know the kind and magnanimous person his father was before his late wife's death.
To him, and the world, Thranduil was a stoic and unforgiving King.
To all, perhaps, except Myria. Myria had been born not too long after Thranduil—in Rivendell. Though the two never met until well into adulthood, Myria liked to say that they hit it off well. Thranduil would never admit the same out loud.
Myria moved from Rivendell to Mirkwood for her studies, thanks to her friend Elrond's advisory, and had since lived there for thousands of years. Youthful as ever, Myria made it her unofficial duty to occupy the King of Murkwood's free time.
She had even befriended his only son, Legolas, despite their age gap. The young elf was approaching 3000 years old soon, and he swore that he was more mature than the she-elf that graced their halls.
Myria didn't mind the head shakes or comments from royal advisors, telling her to mind herself around their King. Thranduil had long grown used to it, anyway.
Myria made her way to his royal chambers, uncaring about her unpropriety with visiting without being called upon. This was their daily routine. Thranduil had his meetings before breakfast, then went back to his chambers to dine alone. Or, he would, if Myria wasn't always waiting right there at his table for him.
"What is for breakfast today, My King?" Myria asked jovially, perched upon one of his carved wooden chairs. Originally, there had only been one for himself, but he ordered a matching one to me made after the woman's incessant visits. Before there was a seat, she simply stood at the table. The thought bothered him, a tinging in the back of his mind telling him that she must be on the same level as him, at all times.
Thranduil's long flowing sleeves and cloaks followed behind him as he entered the room. "You ask this every day, Myr. And what is my answer every day?" He asks, though there is no bite to his words.
"That you 'do not know'. Quite amusing, the all-knowing King not knowing something so simple." She mused, scrunching her nose up at his tall frame.
He fought an amused eye roll, sitting in front of her. He poured himself a chalice of sweet red wine, sipping on it as he replied. "Simple, or trivial? I do not concern myself with such affairs, the food is brought to me and I eat it."
"Careful, Thranduil. That may one day get you poisoned." She mirrored his movements, having waited for him to start drinking.
"By whom? Yourself?" He chuckled darkly, amused at the prospect of such a thing. Mirkwood elves' loyalties ran deep, the chances of him dying suddenly from a cold where higher than dying of poison. "You are the only outsider residing here."
Myria 'hmphed' vehemently, lifting her nose at the accusation. "I hardly can be called an outsider these days. How long have I lived here? Four...five thousand years?"
"Five thousand, two hundred and thirty." He answered for her.
Shocked, she stared at him, mouth agape. "You know the exact year?"
"How could I not? That is the year when my life started to get ten times harder."
She snorted, shaking her head. "I disagree. I think it only got better."
Two servants entered the chambers, one plate in hand each. Platters were lifted to reveal the neatly presented food, a light breakfast of fruit and toasted bread.
Myria and Thranduil dug into it, a pleasent chatter filling the room. "What are your plans for today?" She asked him.
"Same as usual, final preparations for the Feast of Starlight. Though, there is a task I wanted to assign you–" Thranduil was interrupted by a guard rushing into the room. He lifted an unimpressed brow, staring the guard down for his brash action.
"Your majesty, a party of rogue Dwarves have been apprehended in the Mirkwood forest!" To this, Thranduil immediately stood and strided past the guard out of the chambers. Myria, struck by the news, eagerly followed in suite.
"You are not supposed to sit in on prisoners being interrogated, Myria." Thranduil told her sternly, knowing the sound of her light steps trailed behind his own heavy ones.
"When has that stopped me before?" She laughed. It had been a nearly a hundred years since she'd seen a dwarf, and much longer than that since one had been in the depths of the Elvenking's Halls. She was excited to see what brave adventurers had come, and survived the dark forest's curse.
Thranduil seated himself at the head of his lifted throne, elegant giant antlers rooting themselves out from behind the throne like a crown. The one perched on his head mirrored that, thick branches striking in contrast to his pure white hair. Myria took a moment to admire him from her spot at the base of the stairs. The guard next to her didn't even blink at her intrusion, knowing the relationship between the ward and the King was a complex one that even the elders didn't bother to deduce.
Myria stayed silent during the precedings, not moving an inch except to lean her head forward and inspect the Dwarves. The party was quite large, a whole gaggle of Dwarves were bravely setting off to reclaim Erebor's keep and defeat the dragon nested under it. The leader, Thorin, was quite handsome for a Dwarf, not that Myria would say so aloud. For all her teasings, that would surely be the tip of the iceburg for Thranduil's patience.
As the majority of the Dwarves were escorted to the dungeons, only Thorin was left in Thranduil's audience. She listened as Thranduil made his offer, then got rejected harshly by the Dwarven King. Screamed at, being told off by a life form deemed lesser than an Elf, Thranduil had enough. He sent the man away with a flick of his wrist.
As he slowly desended the steps after the dwarf 'king' was escorted away, Thranduil placed a hand on Myrias shoulder.
The cold rings on his hand raised goosebumps on the back of her neck and arms, shivering at the feeling. She cursed herself for wearing an off-shoulder dress, dressing herself for the nice weather that morning. If he noticed, Thranduil didn't say anything. But the tiny lift to the corners of his mouth said plenty. "Do not fraternize with the filth that dirties our halls."
Our halls. The brief words pleasently rung in the back of Myria's mind. She nodded. He knew her well, guessing that she would try to sneak into the dungeons during the feast to try to speak with the curious Dwarves.
He moved his hand down, resting it gently on the small of her back. "Let us go, the feast will not oversee itself."
👑
Myria and Thranduil lounged in his chambers, simply biding time until the Feast of Starlight had begun. Admist muted chuckles and jests, mostly from Myria, Tauriel entered the room. "You called for me, My King?" She bowed shortly. "I have come to report to you." Tauriel glanced briefly towards Myria, nodding when she lifted a goblet towards her silvan friend.
"I thought I ordered that nest to be destroyed." Thranduil said, voice taut with frustration. The spiders had been plaguing their forest for years now, unrelenting.
"We cleared the forest as ordered, my Lord." The woman insisted. "But more spiders keep coming from nests in the South. If we could kill them at their source–"
"That fortress lies beyond our borders. Your orders are to keep our lands clear of those foul creatures. That is your task."
"And when we drive them off, what then? Will they not spread to other lands?" Ever the bleeding heart, Tauriel worried for other people.
"Other lands are not my concern." Thranduil said coldly. "The fortunes of this land will rise and fall. But here in this kingdom, we will endure." As had been the way for thousands of years. Thranduil insisted that Mirkwood keep to themselves, not needing or offering help from any others.
Tauriel nodded stiffly, excusing herself from the King's presence. Before she left, however, he spoke again. "Legolas said you fought well today. He has grown...fond of you."
She paused, thinking his words over carefully. "I assure you my Lord, Legolas thinks of me as no more than captain of the guard.
"Perhaps he did once. Now, I'm not so sure." Thranduil pushed.
"I did not think that you would allow your son to pledge himself toward a lowly silvan elf." She responded, voice slightly hopeful.
Myria leaned forward, too, curious of his answer. Would he allow his heir to love an elf with no royale blood?
"You are right, I would not." Thranduil chuckled humorlessly at the thought of it. Myria bit her tongue, hurt by the comment indirectly. She was no common-born Elf, sure, but had no royal blood to speak of either. She deflated in her seat, drinking down the rest of her wine. "Do not give him hope where there is none."
Is that what Thranduil had been doing for Myria, merely giving her hope? Slivers of special attention, with no intentions of truly loving her. She stood from her seat, leaving the chambers without a word.
Tauriel, too, left quickly after that.
Thranduil stood alone in his chambers, looking at the spot where Myria had once been.
👑
The feast came and passed quickly, Myria in no mood to sing or dance like she usual did at such events. She attended for the sake of politeness, leaving when she had greeted enough people for the night.
She spend the rest of it wallowing in her chambers.
Word got out that the entire party of Dwarves escaped, and Myria silently applauded them for their boldness. She hoped, for their sake, that they were successful in freeing their home.
Days passed, and news of Smaug's death had spread to every corner of Middle Earth. Thranduil was quick to organize his army to march toward Erebor, wasting no time to retrieve his precious gems. Myria had come along on her own white elk mount, following behind Thranduil silently, if only to satiate her curiosity. Last time they had come, Thranduil had rejected the Dwarves' desperate plea for help. This time, he came to declare war if they refused to return his gems.
The damned gems. Always on his mind. True, they were a physical reminder of his late wife and Queen. But it seemed as though he dwelled on them more than he cherished her memory. He did not speak of her, ever. Even to his own son, his wife was but a ghost haunting the halls.
Myria couldn't begin to understand the loss of a spouse, but she did understand that he was too caught up in himself.
Even though she had little intention of fighting the Dwarves, Myria still brought a dagger and bow on the march. Could never be too careful, Thranduil always reminded her. She guided her elk to stand behind his, watching him greet the human leader stiffly. It was almost laughable how mad his manners were, his kingly presence deemed to good for polite small talk.
Myria had been given a temporary quarter near Thranduil's, their tents close as they usually were. He had been too busy to notice her absence lately, both to her joy and displeasure. She missed his daily warmth around her, but knew it was best to distance himself from him. Just this last journey, then she sould go back to Rivendell to live out the rest of her long and lonesome life.
Thranduil plotted with the human leader, Bard, and a wizard by the name of Gandalf. Myria wandered the decrepit town while they did, having no place in war council, nor did she wish to.
By the time she had returned, night had fallen and all the humans of the town were asleep. Myria ducked into her tent, desperate for some solid rest before a potential battle on the morrow. She was surprised to see Thranduil sitting awkwardyl on her cot.
"Thranduil? What are you doing here, you should be resting." Myria insisted, brow furrowed.He stood at her entrance, possibly being left waiting for quite a while.
"I wished to see you before we go to Erebor's gates in the morning. I suspect that the Dwarf will have something up his tiny sleeve. I know you are a capable fighter, but I want you to stay in town tomorrow just in case."
She protested sharply, "I am just as much a fighter as any elf in your army. I will not sit around and wait for you to return–"
"Please, Myria." He rested both of his hands on her shoulders, looking down at her with his deep blue eyes "I could not focus if I knew you were behind me somewhere. If I know you are safe, I can retrieve the jewels easier." Always about the jewels. He should have married them, she thought bitterly.
"Is that an order?"
"It is a request. From a friend." Thranduil said softly.
Myria bit her cheek, crossing her arms. "Fine. I will stay here on the morrow. But, if any fighting breaks out, I will join."
He seemed content with her answer, knowing its as far as he'll get with her stubbornness. "Very well, I'll see you when this is over." He planted a tender kiss to the top of her head before he left to his own tent.
👑
Myria could only watch from afar as negotiations with the Dwarves had clearly gone to shit. More dwarves had shown up, an entire army to match the Elves' golden one. Myria rushed back to grab her bow, bursting out of her tent to the sound of screams in the town. Surely the Dwarves wouldn't target the women and children who had stayed behind?
She was right. It was orcs who had invaded the town, cutting off exits as they slashed through defenseless crowds of people. Myria rushed to help whoever she could, shooting down orcs' fat heads whenever they got too close to a fleeing human. With her dagger, she slashed through whoever she could reach to retrieve each of her arrows.
This arduous process repeated for some time, Myria panting with effort as she continued. The sounds of screams toned done as golden-armored soldiers flooded into the cobble streets and started to push back at the beastly creatins. Myria breathed a sigh of relief, engaging another orc. It was larger than most, with armor protecting its head and chest. She slashed at his with a sword she had taken from dead enemy, yelping when he stabbed into her abdomen with his own weapon. She gasped, trying to keep her composure as he approached above her menacingly. As he lifted his sword above his head again, ready to strike down the Elf, his head was detached from his body in a spray of hot blood.
Myria flinched at the feeling on her skin, feeling disgusted more than she already was with the sweat and dirt covering her. Thranduil came from behind the orc, who was now dead on the floor. He crouched down in front of her, a frantic look in his eye that betrayed his regal appearance. "Myria, look at me!" He shouted, her blurry vision shakily focusing on him. He held her face in his hands, watching her try to keep them open. "It's okay, I'll get you help." Thranduil promised her, gingerly lifting her up princess style. He flinched when she protested in pain, clutching at her stomach to stop the blood from gushing out.
"It's okay, you'll be alright, sweet." He told her, repeating himself multiple times as if to convince himself, too.
He brought her outside of the town, where Elven medics had set up a discreet few tents disguised to the orc's vision by Elven magic. The King layed her gently on a stiff cot, petting her hair comfortingly as she screamed in pain at the medic disinfecting and stitching her wound up. He glared at the Elf assigned to help her, making the poor young fellow sweat in fear of messing uo in front of his King.
Eventually, the sounds outside died out. Thranduil regretted taking his forces to this pit of death. He had lost more Elves today than had ever been lost at one time since the Great War. Elves did not die easily. This was a massacre of great damage to their ranks, to their people. Thranduil mourned the deaths of his kin dearly.
Myria had calmed, pain dulling when given some numbing herbs. She focused her attention on Thranduil, "you came for me." She said, voice barely a whisper.
"Of course, I did. Why wouldn't I?" He asked, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles.
"Your gems...they're still locked away in the keep, aren't they?" She asked.
"The gems are not my priority. They are merely objects, remembrances. You are alive, I need you."
Myria felt tears blurr her vision, clamping her throat shut. "But–I am not from any important bloodline. I am not a Princess, nor—"
"I do not care. You are Myria. The woman who has been by my side for five thousand years. The only lady worthy of being Queen by my side is you."
Thranduil took her into his arms as she cried. He shushed her gently, hands locked into her hair as she clung to him.
"I love you, Thranduil. I have for a long, long time."
"And I, you, my dearest Myr."
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