#can’t wait for dinning room table day!!!!

[emptyrainbowz]

Every video in the kitchen has caused collateral damage I don’t know if I can handle the next one

[iamhereforfunnzies]

Villain & Violent

Prologue

You were a child just a normal child who just wanted a family, everyone else gets to have that why not you? All those years of calling , praying , begging for them to glance at you was embarrassing how childish of you to ever hope for them to lower themselves to you. Here you are with some thug with a gun in your temple shaking “ If y-ou don’t give me the money , I’ll shoot!” he stuttered out with a pink hello kitty gun. Staying still as if you’re a nothing but decoration in the donut store “You know I am more of a my melody gal” you began to take the cash out of the counter as you arrogantly show of your nails. “Well no one can beat the original and the BEST” he said taking the cash of your hands as you glare at him. “Hello kitty such a basic answer you poser” “ And My Melody ain’t??” the two of you have a stare off.

“Respect?”

“Respect.”

The two of you saluted each other as hear the police sirens come out of time and this how your life is a string of badluck , jinxes , accidents , mistakes , and you. “Honestly , I can’t believe I haven’t quit this daam job” you said walking at an alleyway on your way to the manor. When the same fucking hello kitty boy was fighting for his life with some oversize hyenas of men looked at you; you were about to turn away when he yelled. “HER. SHE’S THE ONE WHO GAVE ME THE MONEY” How. The . Fuck-

“And that’s how I died.” You remembered but at the same time you don’t. There had to be more than this , looking at your hands the same My Melody nailset it was fresh so it still be 2 more weeks before you died. Looking around your at the dinning room alone as usual waiting for Alfred to come and bring your lunch, you feel something wet on your cheek. Is that how my life was? Unfullfiling? A comedic death? I didn’t even get my 7 minutes… Why did I die like that? Why didn’t I run? Why did I just stand there you stupid , idiotic , dumb bitch of a- “(Name), what are you doing?” Bruce stood in the door looking at your arm full of scratches, bleeding their staining the table cloth and your blood shot eyes.

Be honest with me am I insane I wrote a 7k+ fanfic becuase I lost my cellphone and had no wifi for an entire day. I am just gonna continue it since it would be a waste not to. Enjoy my word spam of a story and no it's not even nearly done.

[daisiescomelate]

Shiny trinkets

Prompt: Recently, everytime Sylus gets a new loot and he sees something he finds pretty or interesting in it he takes it with him to gift it to you.

Content: Love & Deepspace, Sylus/Reader.

masterlist

It was close to eleven at night and you were getting ready to go to bed. The day had been busy and your skin still buzzed with the adrenaline of being assigned to take care of a crescent threat in the N102 Zone. You were ready for a good night of sleep when you heard the sound of someone knocking at your door.

You were tired and confused, wondering who it might be that came to knock so late at night. Dragging your feet across the living room, you half cursed under your breath to the person that might be at the other side, wondering what it could be that couldn't wait until the following morning.

You opened the door with a click, rubbing the sleep out of one of your eyes with your free hand. The chest of someone came right into view dressed in a dark shirt and a black leather jacket. You tilted your head upwards and it wasn't until then that your brain –slow as it was after a day like that– finally came to recognize the person in front of you.

“Hello, kitten.”

You stood there silently for a second, your neurons trying to light up some reaction.

“Sylus, what are you–?”

He lifted something so it would be at the height of your nose before you could complete your question.

“I came bearing gifts.” He said, and his motion made you take a step back into the apartment out of instinct to avoid a hit to the face. Sylus took advantage of it and gave a step in, letting himself right through the door into your living room.

He closed the door behind himself and put in his signature smirk when he saw you frown. His eyes lit up with mischief then, but whatever he might have been about to say or do he seemed to might have thought about it better because that light flew away.

“What,” you said pointedly while moving the box he had lifted away from your face, “are you doing here? It's too late for games, I'm tired.”

“Sorry to bother you, kitten. But you know how I work odd hours, and I have been waiting for the opportunity to bring this to you.”

He motioned to the box, shaking it slightly. It made a tinkling sound and you looked at it with suspicion. Sylus let out a puff of air, laughing shortly at your expression.

“It's nothing to be worried about, just some tokens of my appreciation.” With that he moved further into the house, walking to stay at the side of the dinning table, carefully placing the box over the tablecloth.

He opened the lid and left it to the side. You looked at every one of his movements with growing curiosity and he seemed to notice. He put his slender fingers into the box, almost playfully slow and smiled at the way you slowly bent closer to be able to look from your place next to the door. 

He moved around the things inside, then decided for one and pulled it out, holding the object between two of his fingers. You choked.

In his hands he carried what seemed to be a pearl necklace that shined pink and blue to the lights of the apartment. 

“Is that—?”

“My most recent loot,” he said, a knowing smile on his face.

“Your most recent–”, you greeted your teeth and counted to ten a few times, then, you tried again. “How many times I must tell you not to bring your stolen items to me?”

“Don’t worry about the last owner, they probably stole it from someone else. So take it with a clean conscience.” He said with his hand inside the box, once again reaching out for another piece of jewelry.

“Sylus!” You said, stepping on firmly against the floor as a sign for your resolution, “You can’t keep doing this. The association is actively looking for this kind of stuff and they end up laying in a drawer in my apartment!”

Sylus had his sight focus in the items inside the box. He seemed to be particularly looking for something. Without taking his eyes away from the gemstones and pearls, he answered you,

“I know it probably makes you nervous, but you have to understand,” he seemed to have found what he was looking for, something shiny and small he flicked in the air with his thumb, “I couldn’t stop imagining how lovely all of this would look on you.”

“You keep making excuses for yourself.” You said crossing your arms. To show doubt was to lose when it came to Sylus.

“If you think I’m lying, look.” He flickered his thumb one more time and between his fingers there was a flash of gold. He reached out with his other hand, and softly pulled one of your hands from your chest. He cared for your knuckles with his thumb, slowly pulling your hand upwards to plat a kiss over the bruised skin from battle.

“This type of thing, so masterfully crafted, belongs with you,” he said, moving his other hand over yours. There was the feeling of something small and cold wrapping around one of your fingers. When he let go, you saw the golden band of a ring on your fourth finger decorated with emerald and diamonds. “See? It fits perfectly.”

You suddenly felt the rush of blood over your cheeks and stuttered at the sight of it. “I– I–” You couldn’t bring yourself to form a coherent sentence.

“You think the same as I do, don’t you?” He laughed, “But in case these are still not to your liking, I should be able to bring some more to you next time too.”

[ughdontbeboring]

Sweet boy

Feyd Rautha x Black/WoC Reader (can be read by anyone)

Yours and Feyds son has a moment and you can’t help your reaction.

warnings none but fluff honestly lol

note: so this was NOT what I was supposed to be working on but I came across it in my notes and just couldn’t stop my fingers 😅 but this is inspired by one of my favorite Feyd arts of him as a child. I’m so upset I can’t find it or the artist. It’s like different drawings of him or his face as a child and he gives the meanest side eye lol so if yall know what im talking about please send it my way so i can tag the artist so others can see it.

If yall like it, love it or fucks with it please share and comment! I love talking to y’all about our mans.

I give no permission for my work to be used anywhere.

it’s fluff and short babe but it’s Feyd so you know 😭 @peggyao3 also again not what I’m supposed to be working on 🥲🥲🥲

x

x

⚔️

The day had been long and tedious but you would not trade it for anything when it dwindles down to become this kind of evening. One which you were lucky to say you had often when your husband wasn’t away for diplomatic purposes. Even then you usually all stayed together more often than not. 

The large tinted floor to ceiling windows on the right side of the dinning room allowing for a view of the planets setting white sun to shine its last bit of light on your blessed life. The tint allowed the room to stay bathed in all its natural colors. Your skins hue still vibrant against the elegant black dress that you had chosen for the day. 

You couldn’t wait to get back to your shared bedchambers and slip into nothing but your silk bed sheets and your husbands arms.

Your eyes drift back to the table you’re seated at with the two loves of your life. Years ago no one could have convinced you THIS would be your life and you’d be the HAPPIEST you’d ever been or could be. None of the of wise women of your home planet could have foretold this. Not even your own visions nor dreams could have conjured enough to convince you this was the life you wouldn’t only lead but love with every once of your being. 

But when you take in your husbands jewel blue eyes that are already watching and only soft for you, you smile happily before your eyes slowly land on the beautiful boy sitting before you and to Feyd’s right from the head of the table.  

And just as your heart swells with more love than either you and Feyd ever thought possible, a loud laugh erupts from deep within your chest. 

You slap a jeweled hand over your mouth to try and contain your laughing from the startled identical faces before you. 

You’re in a fit of giggles as you feel both your husband and son’s look of confusion and it only makes you laugh harder.

You miss your husband’s face of pure awe at the sight before him even if he is confused he can’t help but be in awe of the women he somehow convinced to love him as deeply as you do, full of joy.

You wipe at the tears that have started to spill as you catch Feyd soft questioning eyes.

“I-I’m sorry but he looked just like you with his little evil side eye” you reveal in between laughs. 

Feyd looks on proudly at your son who’s looking between the both of you with his face scrunched up not fully understanding or liking the attention and laughs at his expense. 

Your son had just gave the most evil side eye to the servant who put the extra vegetables on his plate at your request. And all you could see was Feyd. They looked almost identical already and in that moment it was your husband who was a 5 year old boy not wanting to eat the food before him. 

And for all the reasons in the world it made your heart happy. 

“Looking just like your father” you say again as you control your laughing. You can feel the pride rolling of off both of them. “A grumpy baby”. 

“What?!” Your husband yells in disbelief, the fork and meat hanging mid air the same time your son yells his own defense.

“Mother I AM NOT A BABY!” His little voice rages before you with no true anger. 

“Don’t raise your voice at your mother” Feyd scolds quickly.

Your all smiles though. This was all you ever needed. 

“Yes you are, you are my baby always” You tell him as you take in his little face, the beautiful child you both created. The best of both of you. 

He huffs and crosses his little arms across his chest. The angry face he’s trying to pull off is completely identical to his father’s. You could draw it in your sleep the amount of times you’ve seen it over the years.

“Come here” you call to him softly as you push your chair back slightly. 

“No” he says trying to stand his ground that he is not a baby.

“Do not tell your mother no” Feyd scolds again watching the two of you go back and forth with eyes full of love.  if your husband continues on this path and your sure he will, none of your children will ever tell you no or misbehave with you. Feyd has spoiled you almost rotten, your son has received the same attention from his father. The amount of times he’s done wrong and Feyd has come to his defense, you too but you always stress the he can’t be quick to anger.

He had nothing of yours physically expect for you spiced blue eyes, which you weren’t sure how long they last so blue without a constant exposure to spiced air. You were born to parents who were born to parents and so on and so on for as long as you could say who had been born to and live with spice exposure. It was literally apart of your blood. So it made you happy that was the one thing that couldn’t escape your son who spent most of his time on Giedi Prime. So it made you sad to think about the fact that he could loose it one day but you tried to make frequent enough trips to your home planet to help him keep his Fremen feature and traits. 

Feyd allowed him to be born on Arrakis much to a lot of displeasure from some of Giedi Prime. You just couldn’t see giving birth here and raising a child here almost full time, you needed your people, your culture to be apart of his life. Plus you both knew it was the only way for your son to be accepted, he needed to embrace both half’s of who he was if he was going to make a great change one day. Greater change than even you and Feyds union.

It was worth noting all of the people who were displeased with your birthing choice weren’t around anymore to speak on it. 

His personality? It was 60/40 usually, him always leaning towards his father’s ways of behavior especially right now. Right now he was 100% his father’s child. 

“Come here my sweet boy” you call again. 

“Mother I am not a sweet boy! I’m brave and scary” He says as he makes his way around the back of Feyd towards you, very slowly. The posture straight in his small body. 

You pull him in quickly once he is in arms reach. Your hands hold his little precious face gently as you plant kisses all over. You can feel his posture slowly start to loosen.

“Yes you are, you may not be sweet to others that is yet to be seen but you will always be sweet to your mother yes?” You ask softly as you stare into his deep eyes that mirror yours. 

You hear a small but confident “Yes, always Mother” as all the fight leaves him and he snuggles into your body embracing you back fully. His little arms reaching around your neck and squeezing tightly. Your eyes tear a little and you know it’s just your hormones. You have a couple weeks before your due it’s still been an emotional roller coaster everyday. 

You’re so wrapped up in your little boy in your arms you don’t notice your husband. Feyd is over the moon seeing his child get the love he never received. Seeing his wife who he adores more than anything loving their child, his child, a child that looks and acts just like him regardless of what he may have done wrong that day. Your love for him was unconditional. 

He loves to see you showering him with love and care even on his bad days when he’s throwing a tantrum. 

This was everything Feyd never knew he wanted and needed. 

He’d burn everything down to protect this, their little growing family. 

⚔️

[greer2301]

My Mothers Keeper

Daemon X Fem!Reader

|Step father x step kid fantasy taboo|

Reader is of age!

Smut! MDNI !

He looked so good, his blonde hair cut short, brows pulled together as he leant back and took a sip of his wine with his free hand thudding his fingers along the edge of the table.

I know what those fingers feel like. The euphoria they bring me when he plays with the bundle of nerves between my legs, I know how they fit in my mouth and how my juices taste on them. Daemon Targaryen, my step father, my mother’s keeper and the only man to know what I truly desire.

He sat conversing with Jace about his swordsmanship, he didn’t give away if he noticed my hand creeping up his thigh. Having been leant against his chair for quite some time now no one questions when I lean in a little more. Mother too immersed in what Luke has to say to pull away her attention, I work my hand over his clothed length smirking when I feel him harden in my palm and his body slightly tenses. I loosen the lace on his pants just enough to pull him out, slicking my hand with his seed as I begin to stroke him slowly. I take the opportunity that no one’s paying attention, slipping beneath the table as I keep working his cock.

I wait a moment for someone to notice, my core throbbing as I stroke his thick cock knowing anyone could catch us if they paid any attention. I take him in my mouth, licking from his base to the tip swirling my tongue and tacking him in fully hollowing out my cheeks, bobbing my head quickly and stroking what I can’t reach while twisting my wrist. Daemons hand moved from the table to hold my hand that rested on his clothed thigh, squeezing at times to let me know it feels as good as I think it does. His hand moves to my hair and he shoves my head down without warning, my gag reflex triggers as he blows his load in the back of my throat I swallow and pull off slowly. I clear my throat after I sit back in my seat, taking a sip of wine and placing Joffrey on my lap as his nurse maid brings him in.

Slowly everyone disperses from the dinning area, I step into my room to take my bath, the boys are gone down to the dragon mont, Joffrey is off with his nursemaid and I have no idea where mother and Daemon went. I strip of the days clothes and get into the bath, unbraiding my hair as I breathe in the rose and vanilla oils in the water humming a tune from a bards ballad. I was washing my hair when he came in through one of the old tunnels, quietly sitting at the table across from me and pouring himself some wine as he watched me finish bathing. As I was ready to get out he brought a drying sheet, extended me his hand helping me down the steps while admiring my bare self.

“You’re truly an amazing creature” Daemon started “A little fox, sneaky, beautiful and vicious” Daemon teases as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me close and kissing my neck. Running his hands around my damp curves as he walks us to the bed, his lips molding with mine before he removes my towel and lifts me onto the bed. Daemon wastes no time as his fingers immediately make contact with my aching core, my slick coating his fingers as he skillfully manipulates my clit. “You’re such a pretty whore, a whore for your daddy huh” Daemon grumbles out, his voice thick with lust as he looks into my mixed coloured eyes and watches the look of pleasure on my face.

“Only for Daddy” I tell him with a tremble, gasping as he inserts two fingers in my aching cunt and starts ruthlessly thrusting into me. “Mmm- you were fucking made for me” Daemon says as he moves over me, removing his hand from me and placing his mouth on my clit, his tongue drawing shapes as he applies more pressure. “S’good daddy, please don’t stop, fuck” I moan out as he places his fingers back in and sets his pace again his mouth slurping my juices relentlessly as he shakes his head with a moan. “Need yo- your cock, Daddy please” I moan arching my back as I feel my climax coming. Daemon just moans in response pressing his head against me harder, with one last flick of his tongue I cum. Shaking and sweating, hands holding his head in between my legs moans flowing loudly out of my mouth as he rubs my thighs his tongue slowly helping me ride out my high.

“Now you’ll take Daddy’s cock you little slut” Daemon demands as he unlaces his pants, pushing them down and rubbing his hard length between my lips collecting my slick, without warning he thrusts into me, my hand finding his hip and our eyes locked as we both moan at the sensation. Daemon is ruthless in his speed, slamming his hips into mine with each thrust squelching sounds being heard around the room as his dick forces my cunt open. Our moans are hardly held back, his hands holding my legs bent and pushed back as one of mine plays with my nipple and the other grips his wrist. “Daddy feels so good!” I moan out, back arching off the bed as he thrusts deeper, his head thrown back a little before he looks back at me with a smirk “This is Daddy’s perfect fucking pussy. I’ll burn any man who tries to claim it” Daemon groans as he lets go of my leg and moves to wrap his hand around my neck, cutting off blood flow with the new position his pelvis slaps my clit with each thrust.

“Gonna fucking cum Daddy” I moan out as I scratch his wrist, my pussy tightening around his cock as I start to see stars. “Cum on Daddy’s cock sweet girl” Daemon demands, speeding up his thrusts and pushing me over the edge, shaking as I choke out a moan and cream all over his pretty cock, Daemon moans as he spills his seed in me and stays still for a moment. “You’re going to bare my child, you will never know another cock” Daemon says breathlessly, walking to the basin and grabbing a damp cloth coming back to wipe me off and then himself. Daemon says nothing else as he crawls into bed and holds me close, caressing my shoulder as I snuggle into his side. “We are not naming him fucking Aegon” I tell him finally realizing what he said. “On that we agree” Daemon says with a chuckle.

[skylumen]

delicate who?

pairing : badboy!iso x soft!gn!reader

notes : established relationship (this is after they started dating), bad boy x sunshine trope, fluff fluff fluff >.<

Iso arrived at the front of your house, being extra mindful not to rev his bike too much. The last thing he needed was for your parents to come out and give him grief. Not that he minded particularly, but he had to be on his best behaviour in front of his future in-laws. 

After all, he wanted to make a good impression. 

He put up his helmet visor, still sitting on his bike, and texted you.

Yuyu 🐼 : I'm waiting outside, sweetheart.

Five minutes later...

Yuyu 🐼 : Babe?

Y/N: I'm still choosing which shoes to wear!!!

Iso chuckled to himself, shaking his head. What would you do without him, huh? 

Without a second thought, he removed his helmet, setting it down carefully on the seat. He then walked up to your front porch, the wooden steps creaking slightly under his heavy combat boots. Just as he was about to knock on the door, it swung open, revealing the ever-adorable you, perched in front of him with an excited grin.

“Yuyu!” you squealed, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. The faint smell of cigarette smoke still clung to his leather jacket, mixing with the scent of your floral perfume. It was a comforting and familiar combination.

You stepped back, biting your lip as you gestured to your feet. “I don’t know what shoes to wear…”

“And that’s why I’m here to save the day, baby,” Iso said, giving your cheek a light pinch, causing you to let out a tiny squeak.

He stepped into the hallway, his eyes scanning through the assortment of shoes lined up by the door. After a moment of consideration, he picked out a pair of white sneakers. “These suit your outfit best. Plus, we don’t want your feet to hurt tonight, do we?” He knelt in front of you, gently guiding your foot into the shoe.

You shook your head, watching as he tied the laces with practised ease. You giggled softly when he gently patted your thighs. “Alright, let’s get going.”

“Did you bring my helmet?” you asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Of course, the one with cat ears on em’,” he replied with a smile, retrieving the helmet from his bike.

Arrived at the club

Iso's palm, which was resting on the small of your back, moved to grip your waist instinctively as you both entered the crowded and noisy venue. The air was thick with the scent of sweat, perfume, and alcohol. The music pulsed through the room, a steady thump-thump-thump that you could feel in your bones. Iso led you further into the club, your eyes darting around as you tried to spot familiar faces. Knowing it was your first time at a club, he wanted to ensure you were comfortable and happy. But as he leaned in to take a closer look at your face, he realised he might not need to worry so much.

You looked up at him, eyes wide and doe-like. “What?”

“Nothing,” Iso said, trying to hold in his chuckle. “You look beautiful tonight. Beautiful as ever.”

You blushed, a rosy hue spreading across your cheeks, which earned a soft smile from him. Then, you heard a familiar voice.

“It’s about time!”

Iso perked up, recognizing the happy voice of Gekko, who was walking towards you both.

“Gekko!” you squealed, quickly moving to hug the taller guy. The embrace was warm and filled with the excitement of friends reuniting.

“Hey, sweets! Looking pretty as always,” Gekko said, dismissing Iso’s playful touch on your hair. “Everyone’s been waiting for y’all. Come on.”

Iso nodded, placing his hand back on the small of your back as Gekko led you to the rest of your friends. The crowd parted slightly, giving way to your group of friends huddled around a tall table.

“You hungry?” Iso asked, his voice barely audible over the din of the club.

You shook your head, fiddling with your purse. “I’m thirsty, though…”

Iso let out a tiny chuckle. “The party hasn’t even started, and you’re already thirsty?”

“I-It’s hot in here! You can’t blame me…” You stomped your foot lightly, pouting up at him. Your actions made Iso chuckle, his chest vibrating with the sound.

Iso left you with his friends whilst he went to order your drinks. He navigated the crowded bar with ease, returning a few minutes later with drinks in both hands. He saw your eyes light up at the sight of your favourite drink in his hand. The strawberry milkshake was topped with whipped cream and a cherry, just the way you liked it. 

You settled comfortably on Iso’s lap, your soft hands playing with his hair, while he caught up with his group of friends around the table. They talked and laughed over beers, the camaraderie evident in their easy banter.

One of his friends voiced out, “You won big, Iso.” discreetly mentioning you.

“Yeah, didn’t expect you to soften up like this because you know… you’ve always been, rough.”

“Heh, wouldn’t be surprised if this dude ends up with flowers around him.”

Iso rolled his eyes, tightening his arms around you, seemingly annoyed with his friends’ remarks as they bursted into laughter. 

“Shut the fuck up…”

Suddenly, you started squirming on his lap, discomfort etched on your face. The loud noise and the overwhelming crowd were starting to get to you. Iso noticed immediately, his protective instincts kicking in.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Iso asked, his voice gentle and concerned, leaning in closer to hear you over the din of the club.

“S’ loud… hurting my ears…” you mumbled, leaning into him for solace.

Iso knew he couldn’t let you stay uncomfortable any longer. He leaned back, his hand coming up to fix the hair that had fallen over your face. Iso knew he shouldn’t have brought you here; you’ve always hated loud noises and big crowds. But, sighing, he realised you were too stubborn, and Iso just couldn’t say no when it came to you. 

Whatever his sweetheart wanted, he made sure to provide.

“Can I go, pleaseeeeeee can I can I?” you had pleaded, 

“Y/N, for the last time—” Iso had started, frustration evident in his voice. But then you looked up at him with those wide, pleading doe eyes, and his resolve crumbled.

“Alright, alright. But, you gotta stay with me at all times, okay?” he had relented, his voice softening as you cupped his face, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Thanks, Yuyu ~!”

“Wanna get out of here?” he asked, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your back.

You shook your head in response, tightening your arms around his waist. “I wanna be with you…”

“Hey, hey, shh… I’ll always be with you, okay? Whatever you want, baby,” he reassured you, his lips brushing against your temple.

You didn’t respond, instead tightening your embrace, your face buried in his chest.

“Alright, how about we leave this party and go home? We can cuddle, watch your favourite movies, or… whatever you want. I’ll stay over at your house tonight.” He murmured into your ear, his calloused hands rubbing your back for comfort.

Your face lit up. “Really? Don’t you have work tomorrow—”

“It’s no big deal, yeah? Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he assured you, his smile warm and genuine.

Iso knew he'd get an earful from his boss for coming in late tomorrow, but it is not as bad compared to the thought of leaving you at home with tearful eyes while hugging his leg, pleading him to stay,

Trust me, this is not the first time. He could handle it.

Iso nodded as an assurance, which earned small kisses all over his face from you. He chuckled, relieved that he could put a smile on your face. When both of you left, his friends couldn’t believe their eyes.

“Told you, man, he’s whipped as hell. That dude is far gone!” one of them remarked, shaking his head in disbelief.

While waiting for Iso to put on your helmet outside, you asked, “Yuyu?”

“Yeah?” he responded, looking at you with those soft eyes that made your heart flutter.

“Can we get, um… ice cream on the way back?” you asked, your voice hopeful and sweet.

“Of course, I’ll take you to your favourite place. How about that?” he replied, a smile spreading across his face.

You nodded excitedly, your eyes sparkling as he securely fastened the helmet on your head.

(A/N): badboy!iso is my muse and i will die on this hill...

delicate lilac. | masterlist.

[whxtedreams]

When they’re ill / injured 

Summary: Small drabbles about how they let you help them when they're ill or injured.

Word Count: 1.3k

Tags: Injury, knife wounds, blood, fear, drug use, fluff.

Characters: Joel Miller, Din Djarin, Prince Oberyn, Javier Peña, Agent Whiskey, Frankie Morales

a.n. yeah, so I'm a health worker (admin) and literally thought of this at work while going over forms, wrote dot points on sticky notes and smashed this out in my lunch break. Enjoy!

Joel Miller

Main cause for concern: Injury: lower back  

Joel hides his pain from you for all of three hours. When you finally realise, he doesn't actually know you’re in the room. He gets up from a chair and grunts in pain, his hand shooting to his back as he supports himself on the dining table with his other hand. He jolts when he hears your voice when you ask if he’s okay, only making him hiss in pain when he moves. He tells you he’s fine, of course he does. You know he’s not. After multiple attempts to convince him to go to the clinic in the Q.Z., he finally gives in with a grunt. He huffs, mutters and grumbles the whole time he’s there, making sure he lets everyone know he’s fine. He’s not though: his back is fucked. 

Summary: the poor guy just lifted something.  

Din Djarin 

Main cause for concern: Injury: Knife wound; left arm 

Din shut himself in the refresher the moment he got back to the ship. Normally you would let him do whatever he needed to do after hunting a bounty, but the small blood trail he left in his wake worried you. You knock on the door but hear nothing but the clatter of Beskar falling to the floor. You knock again and ask if he needs any help but he just tells you to leave him. You don’t, though; you can’t. You sit with your back to the refresher door and wait. Wait, just in case he needs you. 

When the door finally does open, you look up from where you sit on the floor and he kneels in only his flight suit and helmet. He softly grabs your chin to look at his shielded face. He assures you he’s okay, but you can’t be sure. You lift the sleeve of his shirt to see the wound for yourself, your eyes softening with worry. A painfully long, jagged cut from his wrist to elbow scars his skin, and you hear the hiss from under his modulator as you reach up to touch it. You suggest that maybe this time he goes to a medical clinic. His fingers rest on your cheek as he sighs, telling you that you know why he can’t. He lets you patch him up after that after he wipes a tear from your cheek. 

Summary: just another scar for you to trace later.

Prince Oberyn

Main cause for concern: Illness: flu

He’s been in isolation in his chambers for four days now. You’ve stopped by his door each morning and night to check on him, only to be turned away by his guards. You were worried. But finally, on the fourth night when you arrive at his door, he calls for you. The guards let you in and your heart aches as you see him struggling to breathe and blankets sprawled over his body. He missed you, he tells you before he coughs. He motions for you to stop as you walk towards his bed but you do not care if he gets you sick, you just want him to feel better. You gather washcloths and wet them with cold water and lay them on his face, a soft sigh of relief settling in his chest. My sweet little dove, he calls you as his wrist weakly curves around yours as you sit beside his naked, shivering, sweating body. You end up in bed with him, running nails up and down his back as he grips onto your body heat, slowly lulling him to sleep. You pray to the gods that he’ll be better soon. You miss your Prince. 

Summary: it’s literally just a basic ass flu, he’s fine. But everyone deserves to be cared for. 

Javier Peña

Main cause for concern: Injury: gunshot wound, shoulder. 

He desperately tried to hide it from you, even as he began to dial your number multiple times throughout the night, only to throw the phone across the room. He didn’t want you to worry, didn’t want to see you panic. He spends the night in hospital before Steve eventually tells you the next morning assuming you already knew. You didn’t. You rush to the hospital, thinking the worst. You find his room and when you arrive your chest is heaving as your eyes frantically search him for injury. I’m okay baby, really, he whispers as you fall into a hug. And he does feel okay as he takes in the smell of your hair, the comfort you bring him as you hug him. You’re angry at him, furious at him for keeping you in the dark. But that feeling is only temporary, because he’s okay. He’s breathing. He’s alive. 

Summary: Hugs are healing.

Agent Whiskey 

Main cause of concern: Injury: Lasso burn 

He’s a fucking idiot and you make sure you tell him that after he tried to show off a new move. He was trying to impress you, and god, it would have if he didn’t whip himself and burn a massive line down his leg. He had shouted out in pain but tried to down play it as he came limping back over to you like a wounded puppy. Of course he was still flirting with you as you tried to assess the wound, asking you to kiss it better. You roll your eyes and kiss his leg beside his wound and the idiot tells you he’s healed, that your mouth is all he needs. It is in fact not any better when you drag him to the Kingsman med bay. As he lays on his stomach with your hand in his and the nurses have patched him up, he asks you to kiss him better again. You do. 

Summary: He’s an idiot. But he’s your idiot.  

Frankie Morales

Main cause for concern: OD poisoning

You get the call at eleven at night while you’re soaking in a bath. When you answer Fankie is freaking out, blabbering about brownies. You tell him to slow down, and he takes it literally. His words are dragged as he mentions the brownies again, how he feels poisoned. You sigh as you pull yourself from the bath, you let him know you’ll be over as soon as you can. 

When you do arrive at his house, he's laying on the living room floor. You stand above him, arms crossed over your chest as you raise an eyebrow. His hands are in the air as his eyes are fascinated by his fingers moving. He tells you he ate half a tray of “special” brownies and he honestly thought they were weak because they didn't do anything but then it just hit him like a truck and he can now both feel every bone in his body and also nothing. He laughs then, and then doesn’t stop. Somethin’ wrong with those brownies, he laughs and you smile, trying not to laugh. You look over at the tray as he goes to take another and you quickly rush to pick up the tray and he actually pouts at you as his fingers wiggle for the tray. Ah-no way, you scoff as you toss them in the bin. You end up pulling him off the floor and he pukes on the floor beside you, just missing you. Taking you to the ER, you sigh as you take hold of his hand and tug for him to follow you. 

When you do get to the ER, he sits beside you in the waiting room and his head rests on your shoulder and his arm wrapped around yours as you wait. A soft content smile is plastered on his face and you carefully run your fingers through his hair, pulling soft sighs from him. Feel funny, he sighs and you hum. Love you so much, he says as he nestles himself even further against your body. When he’s finally taken in to be put on a drip, he tugs you along with him, muttering he needs you.   

Summary: Eating half a tray of pot brownies was probably not a good idea. Actually –eating half a tray of normal brownies probably isn’t a good idea either tbh.  

[ivegotyourbackbuddie]

After the 118 find out that Buck and Eddie are together, I want Eddie to have a day filled with shovel talks.

Like he’s invited along to an innocent breakfast with Hen and Karen but before he can even order anything, they’re raising their eyebrows and asking, “What are your intentions with Buck?”

And after Eddie stutters out a response about how much he loves Buck and asks them if it’s too soon to buy a ring, they lay off of him and have a nice breakfast.

But right after the breakfast, he gets an innocent text from Maddie asking to come over and help him with a new play set she and Chimney bought for Jee and any of the other kids who want to play on it. And Eddie immediately is on his way, excited to help out. Only, when he gets there, Maddie is hesitant to take him to the backyard and instead asks if he wants tea, coffee, or a beer.

When she hands Eddie the beer, she slowly tells him how special Buck is to her and how painful it’s been for her to see him get hurt over and over by people who are supposed or love him.

So, Eddie tells her about how painful it was for him to see Buck hurt as well, and how Buck is in his will, and how he doesn’t think he’d survive the heartbreak if anything bad happened between him and Buck. And by the end of his speech, Maddie has tears streaming down her face - happy tears - because she knows Buck has found someone who loves him nearly as much as she’s always loved him.

And as Eddie finishes off the beer, he asks, “So, there was no play set, was there?”

Maddie shakes her head and replies, “Oh no. There is. I’m just making Chimney work on it because he didn’t want to be a part of the shovel talk.” Eddie raises an eyebrow. “He gets scared of how overprotective I am.”

Eddie smiles and nods. “Well, I find it endearing. I’ve always admired how much you’ve had his back his whole life. The love you have for each other is really beautiful.”

Maddie wipes a tear from her eye and laughs, “Now you’re really trying to suck up to me.”

Eddie laughs and has to excuse himself to answer his ringing phone with Bobby’s caller ID lighting up the screen. Bobby says something about stopping by to go over his and Buck’s paperwork, and Eddie tells him he’s coming over.

After a very long hug, Eddie is on his way over but as soon as he’s through the doorway, he finds not only Athena waiting for his arrival but Harry and May at the dinning room table across from her. Eddie starts by saying, “Really? You guys too? Did you guys all plan for today to be the shovel talk day? Because I thought it was pretty clear that I love Buck more than anyone I’ve loved before - besides Christopher. And I’m beyond lucky to have someone like him as my partner in the job, to care for Christopher, and in life. And yes, I’m aware that there will be challenges because every relationship has them - hell, Buck and I have already had challenges. But I love him every bit because of how we got through them and came out on the other side stronger. Yes, I can’t promise that I won’t hurt Buck, but I will promise that I will do everything in my power to prevent that from happening.”

And the whole Grant-Nash family just stares at him before Bobby clears his throat and hands him some paperwork while saying, “I actually did have a question about the paperwork.”

And before Eddie can die of embarrassment, Athena comments, “But I’m glad we got that over with before Bobby gave his speech Thursday night when this was supposed to happen. And trust me, you did not want to sit through it.”

Bobby shoots her an offended look, but May laughs and explains, “He’s been practicing… with flashcards.”

When Eddie raises his eyebrows at Bobby, he has the decency to look just as embarrassed as Eddie feels, but he ignores the topic at hand to point out a back page Eddie forgot to fill out.

After it’s all settled, Eddie asks Bobby, “Hey, who is giving Buck the shovel talk on my behalf?”

Bobby only raises his eyebrows in response and shares a smile with Athena.

Then, the scene cuts to Buck who is very nervously stating his intentions with Eddie, talking about all the moments he knew he was in love with him but pushed it down because he never thought he was lucky enough to get what he always wanted. Then, it kind of turns into a speech of all the things he loves about Eddie until he cuts himself off, asking if it’s too soon to buy him a ring.

A very long silence goes by and Buck keeps nervously fidgeting then finally asks, “So… did I pass?”

Then, the camera slowly pans to Christopher who is staring at Buck very seriously, but then he breaks out into a wide smile and laughs, “You passed!” before getting up to give him a hug.

And this is exactly how Eddie finds them when he gets back, and he knows that all the uncomfortable talks were worth it.

Until Chris pulls away and tells him, “Dad, I have something very serious to discuss with you.”

And Eddie rolls his eyes to prepare for yet another talk, but he can’t help but be glad that Buck has so many people in his life that love him.

Of course, those same people give Buck the shovel talk the next day except this time Chimney joins because he loves watching Buck squirm under pressure. And after several talks and more tears shed, Buck goes out to finally buy a ring, not knowing that while he was out, Eddie was doing the same thing.

But they wouldn’t have it any other way.

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 10 - The Afterglow)

6.1K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: Din stays the weekend.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Smut with fluff, next day aftercare, kissing, bathing, oral (f receiving), boob slapping, unprotected PiV, slight daddy kink, slight degradation kink (discussed, Din is a respectful king), tons of pet names as usual (sweetheart, baby, pretty bird, babygirl, etc.)

A/N: This is actually a bonus chapter in that it was not in the original outline; I dunno - just really wanted to see what the day after their first time looked like 🥰 I felt a bit self conscious about the last chapter but I quite like this one! Also - even though reader calls Din "old man", there is no implied age gap. I call my husband an old man all the time and he's only 2.5 months older than me (he just acts like such a freakin' old man sometimes 😂😂)

Series Masterlist

You wake the next morning when the bed jostles lightly; opening your sleepy eyes, you blurrily make out Din getting out of bed.  Taking a moment to admire the powerful muscles that lay dormant across the expanse of his back, for the first time you have the chance to see that Din has a tattoo beneath his left shoulder blade.  You study it for a moment, it looks to be some sort of animal skull with a narrow head and tusks; making a note to ask Din about it later, you yawn, “Good morning.”

Din turns and smiles, crawling back onto the bed he leans in to give you a soft kiss, “Good morning, pretty bird.  Sorry, was trying not to wake you.”

“I’m a light sleeper, don’t worry,” you grin lazily, still in a half-dreamy stupor from the evening before, “Are you sneaking out on me, Djarin?”

Din throws his arm over you, pinning you beneath the covers and wiggles his bear paw of a hand under you to start tickling; you shriek with laughter, trying to squirm away.

“Can’t get rid of me that easily, sweetheart,” Din chuckles at your feeble attempts to escape; he stops poking and uses his hand underneath to pull you in close, kissing you with tenderness.  Before the kiss can deepen, you’re both made aware of panting breaths coming from next to the bed.  Turning, you smile wide at Al who was lured into the bedroom by the loud sounds of laughter and is now waiting patiently, tail wagging, to be included.

Reaching over you to rub Al’s head, Din kisses your forehead, “Baby, was going to take Al for a walk and pick up some breakfast.”

“I can come,” you start to say, before a yawn over takes you.

“Sweetheart, you rest.  I’ll be back soon.  Need you to be fully recovered from last night, so you can refuel… and be ready to fall apart on my cock again,” you can feel his smirk against your lips as he kisses you eagerly, conveying that he’s not yet had his fill of you.  Your moan is involuntary; extricating your arms from your sheets, you wrap your arms around Din’s neck and pull him in with renewed hunger.

“Pretty bird, I should go,” Din mumbles, making no effort remove himself from your embrace.

“Mmmhmmm,” you hum, more than your wakefulness starting to stir.

*Bark*

Oops.  With difficulty, Din pushes himself off of you to give Al his full attention, two hands rubbing all over his furry head and ears.

When he’s left you to snuggle back under your covers, you call out, “Keys and leash are on the foyer table.  There are spare toothbrushes in the guest room bathroom next to the kitchen,” before closing your eyes and letting your sleepy, arousal muddled brain take over your body.

With Al trotting by his side, Din looks back to see you already snoozing peacefully, so serene and beautiful with your hair fanned out on your fluffy pillows, and he looks down at Al to whisper, “Aren’t we lucky?” before heading out.

---

The remainder of Saturday passes comfortably and lazily. 

Din comes back with breakfast sandwiches to find you making coffee.  In truth, you are a little sore, and not just in your core where you expected; you silently curse yourself for all the times you dismissed Pilates as “a fad” when you feel the strain in your hips and your upper thigh crease.  Though you try to hide it from Din because you know he’ll feel bad, he’s an ex-boxer trained to look for weakness in his opponent, and he picks up on your little winces as you bring over the steaming mugs to your breakfast table on the balcony. 

Immediately he rushes to your side, “Pretty bird, I hurt you,” eyes worried.

“No, no, I’m okay – I’ve been neglecting my yoga,” you joke, but make sure to kiss him affectionately and reassuringly nuzzle his jaw to show Din there isn’t anything to be concerned about.

Far from being placated, Din insists that he run you a bath after breakfast so you can soak and relax; you don’t argue, but make him promise to join you.

Honestly, you love baths, and given the time, you’ll soak in one for hours with a glass or two of wine; you’re sure today’s bath will be relaxing in a totally different way.  Filling the hot water with more salts and bubbles than usual, you lie in the water with your eyes closed, letting your aching muscles melt until you’re toasty and pliable all over for when Din joins you.  When he comes in, you sit up and cross your arms over the side of the tub, resting your chin on your arms as you watch Din undress, trying not to stare.  His naked physique in the daytime is somehow even more impressive than it was last night.  He towers over you, a mountain of a man, impossibly broad – he isn’t chiseled or as cut as he probably used to be, but his body is still muscular and a force to be reckoned with.  You can’t believe you were able to house all of that between your legs last night; no wonder you’re sore.  Once again, your eyes spot the litany of scars and marks from previous fights (in the ring and out, you’re sure); you beckon Din to come closer with your hand and when he’s within reach, you trace your fingers from scar to scar, drawing a connect the dots picture with the water droplet trail your fingers leave behind.  You look up at Din, eyes full of worry for wounds that have long since hurt, but still pain your heart nonetheless.  Din cups your chin with his hand and says softly, “Should have seen the other guys, pretty bird.”

Your fingers continue their trail down below his belly button, eyes hungry.  Even soft, Din’s cock is impressive; thick and girthy, your mouth waters slightly as your hand wraps around – an easier feat than yesterday when it was hard and throbbing in your mouth.  You’re not sure how long you stay lightly working Din’s length, proverbially and literally drooling, but when Din’s semi hardening cock jumps in your hand, you’re startled out of your daze; Din chuckles and tells you to scoot forward, he’s coming in.

You wanted to sit behind him and help wash him, but that would have defeated the purpose of giving your hips and pelvis a break, so instead, after Din slides into the tub, you sit between his legs on your knees and face him to wash his hair and his body with a little pouf. 

Din is in hell.  You’re once again sitting pretty on your knees for him, this time naked, wet and soapy; his hands are holding you gently by your waist and even there you’re supple and inviting.  He wants you to relax and recover, so he’s vowed not to fuck you until later, but he’s having to tap into years of trained self discipline in order to not sink himself into you right in this tub.  He forces himself to look away from your perky, sudsy breasts, and instead watches your face as you focus on washing him with an adorable look of concentration. 

He thinks he might actually die when you lean over him, pressing your chest into his shoulder and clavicle so you can reach and scrub his back.  All he has to do is tilt his head to the side and down a little and he would be able to bite and suck on that tantalizing flesh; luckily, you save him from himself, “Din?”

“Yes, pretty bird?” hoping you don’t detect the strain in his voice.

“What’s this tattoo?” your fingers tracing the Mythosaur skull; the more you look at the tattoo, the more fearsome it looks.

“Oh,” Din laughs, “…that’s the Mando insignia… we all have it tattooed.”

“Like how the actors from the Fellowship have the 9 tattoo?  Or all of BTS has 7?” you tease.

“Yes,” Din rolls his eyes, kissing and then lightly biting down on your shoulder, “exactly like that… nerd.”

Sitting back on your heels, you straighten your arms, pressing them close to your sides so your boobs are pushed up; you’re not entirely unaware of the effect your nakedness has been having on Din, his growing arousal evident even through the bubble foam.  If he wants to be teasing, you can too.  Pushing out your lower lip for effect, you pout, “Alright cool guy, how come that particular design for the Mandos?”

Din’s eyes are about to pop out of their sockets and his ears tinge pink, “Some of the Mandos went through a D&D phase… Woves found it in a book about fantasy monsters and creatures when we were kids; it’s supposed to be a Mythosaur, like a giant dinosaur, dragon with tusks.  It seemed pretty badass when we were 8.”

You giggle, god he’s so cute.  “It is badass… nerd,” you smile, kissing him lightly once, twice, then a third time in succession.  Turning so you’re facing away from him, you sit between Din’s legs and lay on his chest, “I like it.”

“Thanks, pretty girl.  Sorry I called you a nerd.”

Nuzzling in to his chest, you say light heartedly, “Don’t be sorry.  I am a nerd, and it’s a very cool thing.”

“Very true.  Also, I don’t even know what the second thing you said was,” Din admits.

“Omigod, old man, BTS?!?” you turn up to look at his face, disbelieving.

Little tease.  Din can’t hold back his hands any longer, “Old man?  You’ll pay for that, sweetheart.” Still wanting to leave the lower half of your body alone, he reaches out of the water to give your breasts that are resting above the waterline two playful slaps.

The first slap has you yelping in surprise, but the second has you moaning from the light, but pleasurable sting.  Right away, you feel a wetness between your legs that has nothing to do with the bathwater.

“Oh, does my dirty little slut like that?”

“Mmmhmmm, yes, please, Din.”

Din reaches up and palms your breasts, one in each large hand, covering them completely and groping them rougher than he would normally.

“…daddy,” you sigh.

“Tell daddy what you want, pretty girl.”

“Fuck.. Din.  Want… w-wan… want you to pull on them.”

Fingers rolling your nipples before pinching them gently, Din gives them both a little tug, much to your delight. 

“Ahhhhhh… oh yes, daddy, just like that,” you moan, melting back against him, feeling his hardness pressed against your back.

“Didn’t know my good girl could moan like a whore,” Din whispers hotly in your ear before pulling on your nipples a little harder and releasing them, letting your tits bounce before slapping them like before.

“Holy fu---, oh daddy, that feels so good, love it when you play with my boobs... ohhhhh yessss.”

Din starts sucking on your neck and dips a hand below the water, reaching for your pussy. He swipes two fingers against your slit to find your slick already coating you, “Sweetheart, this for me?”

“Oh god, Din, yes, all for you… please, please need you to fuck me.”

Din stills his hands and returns them to a more innocent position, wrapped around your waist, “Oh pretty girl, we can’t.  You’re still sore.”

You roll in his arms so to face him to plead your case, “Please, daddy.  You take such good care of me, I’m all better.  Want you.”

“Baby –,“ it’s not fair that he has to somehow say no to these big doe eyes you’re giving him, “don’t want to hurt you.”

Crawling up his body, you tuck yourself under Din’s chin and press kisses to his pulse point, “You won’t, daddy.  You only make me feel so good.  Do you need your little slut to beg for it? Please, please, Din.  I need you so bad.”

Fuck. “Let’s get out of the tub, pretty bird.”

Giddy at having gotten your way, you’re practically bouncing as you and Din towel off, and when Din guides you to the bed by the small of your back, gently pushing you up onto the middle of the bed.

“I’m not going to fuck you, sweetheart.”

Your head snaps up, “Wh-“

“And you’re not going to get my fingers.”

“Dinnnnn,” you whine before he cuts you off.

“…I’m going to eat you out until I have you running down my chin.”

“Holy Fu-,“ you don’t even finish your thought as you have to sharply inhale when Din pulls you closer to the edge of the bed by your ankles, gently places your legs over his shoulders and starts lovingly trailing kisses down your inner thigh.

Then he makes you come with just his mouth and his words:

“Such a pretty pussy.  So sweet and perfect,”as he licks long, strong strokes up and down your slit.

“Love how wet you get just from my mouth.  Such a greedy, needy slut,” as he explores your folds with his tongue, swirling and gliding through the most sensitive parts of your cunt.

“Give me those moans, baby girl.  Need to know if my little whore likes what I’m doing to this pretty hole,” as he drinks in your moans and makes the most obscene slurping and squelching noises while open mouth kissing every part of your pussy.

“Come on, sweetheart, soak my face.  Want to drink you up,” as he teases your clit between his teeth before closing his lips over your swollen bud and builds, builds, and builds you up until you topple off the edge, grabbing his hair as you seize, screaming “Daddy!”

You can still taste yourself on his tongue after Din crawls up your body to pepper your mouth with kisses, tucking you into bed before climbing in under the covers to join you. 

“What about you, Din?” you murmur into his neck as he holds you close; knowing you’re too pliant and boneless to argue, he tells you he’ll be fine as you drift off into your nap.

---

Later in the afternoon, the two of you go for a leisurely (and happily pain free) stroll around your neighbourhood with Al, where you proceed to point out all the food places of note; happily, you let Din select an assortment of pastries for tonight’s dessert from a local bakery and try not to side-eye him too much when he doesn’t choose the Portuguese egg tart.  No one’s perfect, you suppose, smiling to yourself. Once back home, you get started on dinner at the kitchen island, cutting up the bread for tonight’s panzanella.  Din is facing you, sitting on a high top at the bar side of the island, helping you organize the ingredients into little bowls when your cutting board gets too full.  Content chatting nonstop while you prep, you smile at Din and ask, “Why did your dad name the gym ‘Mando’s’?”

Smiling back a big grin, Din points to a pad of paper and pen, to which you nod, “You ever watch Back to the Future, pretty bird?”

“Of course, I love Michael J. Fox!”

Din starts writing on the notepad, “Well, before it went bankrupt, DMC had a repair garage where the gym is now.”  He turns the paper towards you, where you see he’s written:

Manufacturer Certified DeLorean Repairs

“Then before the movie even came out, the company went kaput and abandoned the building and the lot.  A couple of years later, Dad bought it for real cheap, and started to fix the place up to turn it into a gym and a place for us to live.  The neighbourhood was a bit rougher back then, and for some reason, maybe because the movie was so popular at the time, people kept stealing the letters on the sign out front.”

Taking the pad back, Din draws a few short marks on the paper before turning it back to you, “When we moved into the apartment on the top floor, this was what was left.”  When you look, you can’t help but laugh, “Oh my god, they took so many.”

Manufacturer Certified DeLorean Repairs

Grinning, Din takes the pad back for a second time, “Dad and Boba tried to scare the kids into leaving it alone, but I think the challenge just motivated them more.  When the renovations on the gym were about done and dad was ready to open, this is what it looked like:”

Manufacturer Certified DeLorean Repairs

“Dad didn’t want to spend any more money, so he got up on a ladder with a bucket of paint and a paint brush, added the apostrophe and the word ‘gym’ underneath, and that’s how ‘Mando’s Gym’ was born,” Din recounts wistfully, “I think if anyone didn’t know the real story, Dad used to just say Mando was his grandfather’s name or something.  He never found out that Paz and I were the ones who stole the last ‘u’.  I think Paz still has it at his place.”

“That’s so cute,” you grin.  You love how Din talks about his dad; it’s so evident that he’s proud of their shared history with the gym and strong ties to the neighbourhood.  You can just imagine a young Din and Paz sneaking around the property, planning their great heist, “I bet he knew though.  You two were probably the biggest scamps.”

Din comes around to your side of the island, “You’re probably right.  Dad always knew more than he let on.  And who are you calling a scamp, sweetheart?” He steals a handful of cut bread before pinching you on the bum and escaping to the living room to share his bounty with Al.

---

After a hearty dinner, you and Din put on some tv in the background, and laze on the couch talking about anything and everything: work, dream places to travel, most embarrassing dumb college experiences, extended family.  Netflix and chill, indeed.  You’re sitting with your back against the arm of the couch, legs laid over Din’s lap as he gently plays with and massages your hands.  On the heels of that last topic, you grow a little more serious, and decide to bring up something you’ve been meaning to address, “Din? You know how you told me yesterday a little more about what you and the Mandos do for Boba?”

At this, Din straightens up a bit.  He knew you would have questions and have every right to ask; he just doesn’t know what he’s prepared to answer. 

“I know that the Fett family is important to you, and you’re loyal to them – I can’t admit I’m not curious about… well everything. But I’m never going to, like, interrogate you, okay?  I might have questions, but won’t demand answers because I’m assuming, not all the answers are yours to give.  I guess what I’m saying is it’s okay that you don’t tell me everything, but Din,” and you look at him with pleading eyes, “please don’t ever make me feel like you’re hiding something from me?”

“Oh, pretty bird,” as usual, you prove to be a lot more pragmatic and understanding than Din had been prepared for.  He’s not sure if he’s ever going to stop being surprised by your forgiving and empathetic nature, “I promise I’ll never make you feel that way.  Everything that’s mine, is yours to know if you wish.  You’re right about there being some things that I might not be able to discuss, but you can ask me anything, anytime, okay?”  He kisses your hands over and over, like a humbled subject showing his devotion and allegiance to his queen.  He might be being a little cavalier about it, but he wants you to know that you’re not misplacing your trust in him, and that he in turns, trusts you, “Is there anything you want to know now?”

You think about it for a second then shake your head truthfully, “Right now?  Not really.  Well… maybe just… do you ever carry weapons?”

“Baby, weapons are part of… the religion,” Din tries to phrase it in a delicate, more poetic way, “but, I never carry when I’m in public, and definitely not when I’m with you.  Is that ok?”

Thoughtfully, you nod.  You’ve never felt afraid or intimidated by Din, and his answer doesn’t change that.  Satisfied, you pull up and capture Din’s lips with yours, drawing out the kiss as if sealing in your confidence on the matter.

When you relaxed back into your previous position, but having now reversed your roles so you’re the one giving the hand massage, Din has a completely different question for you, but one he approaches with the same seriousness and care that you did your last, “Pretty bird, I have to make sure something with you.”

You look at him, curious. Din continues, almost shy, “When we’re… in bed… and I call you names…”

Keeping your expression neutral, you think about the side of Din that’s confident, dominant even, who has a mouthy quip for every occasion, and then fondly watch this other Din, the Din who’s easily flustered when he’s trying to be sincere, who is respectful to a fault, almost SHY; honestly, you’re falling in love with both.  But that doesn’t mean you can’t tease him, “What names?”

Din goes beet red and murmurs after a beat, “dirty names..” You stay silent but arch your eyebrows.

“… you know that that’s not what I really think of you, right?”

Oh.  How is this brute of a man, who’s made you come five times in the last 24 hours, so fucking respectful.  You almost feel bad at the giggle that leaves your throat, and you clasp your hands over your mouth so Din can’t see you smile.  It’s absurd.  This man?  An enforcer for a crime boss? If he hadn’t told you himself you wouldn’t have believed it.  He’s so soft and caring, considerate of your physical comfort and emotional safety.  How is he real?  The other hilarious thought is the idea that you might be offended by some light degradation when really, it turns you on like a lightbulb.

You climb onto Din’s lap, straddling his legs; glad to no longer feel a burn in your upper thighs, you cup his face lovingly and plant reassuring kisses on Din’s face, his lips, his cheeks, his nose, “Oh Din, how did I get so lucky?  Of course, I don’t think you think you mean anything actually insulting or demeaning towards me as a person when you call me a slut or a whore in bed.” Silly man. “In fact, the only reason I even find it such a turn on is because I’m sure that you don’t.  If I even thought for a second that you didn’t value me as a person or a woman, I would never entertain you touching me never mind calling me any dirty names during sex.”

Din breathes a sigh of relief, he loved how you brought out the dirty talk in him, but dirty talk was only hot if you liked the dirty talk, “Ok, baby.  I would never.  You’re the smartest, sweetest, prettiest bird. I’m the lucky one that you even looked twice my way.”

You’re melting, and also incredibly turned on, “You’re so good to me, Din.  That’s why I like it when you call me a slut,” you coo into his ear, “It’s like you’re the only one who gets to see this needy, desperate part of me.  You’re the only one who can give me what I need.”

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

“Everyone else gets to see the good girl too, but only you get to know me like this, a filthy whore that’s desperate for your cock.”

“Goddammit, pretty girl.”

“And you know what else I like?”

“What, baby?”

“I like the idea that you want me so bad, that I drive you so crazy, that you cannot help yourself.  You need to take your little slut so bad that you can’t be bothered to be respectful anymore.”

Din’s face is muffled into your neck, “Yeah, baby, respect you so much.”

“I know, daddy.  That’s why I want you to call me a whore, a slut… then handle me like one,” you pause and give Din a less self assured look, “but… I don’t think I like the word ‘bitch’.  And I don’t want you to call me stupid.  And… nothing said in anger.  Or to humiliate me.  I don’t think I would find that very sexy.”

Stroking your hair, Din kisses you lightly, “Of course, only what makes you feel good, I promise.  Only the dirty talk that makes you feel hot… and safe,”

Punctuating each word with a kiss to Din’s open mouth, “Thank you, daddy.  So good to me.  So respectful.  You take such good care of me.  That’s why you get to treat me like your cumslut.”

“Holy fuck, sweet girl.  Remind me again what else you like,” stutters Din, now thrusting up slightly into you.

“I like being your filthy, needy slut, Din,” grinding down on Din’s lap

“Yes, baby girl.  Daddy’s here, take what you need.”

You can feel Din’s cock pressing into you through his pants, so you lift up to shimmy out of your shorts and panties; climbing back onto Din, you take his hands and guide it towards where you’re already throbbing and aching for him.  Din strokes through your wet folds, sucking in a sharp breath, “Fuck, you are a desperate little slut.  So wet from just talking about how dirty you are.”

Plunging a finger in you and meeting no resistance in your slick hole, he adds another and builds up a steady rhythm, “This what you need, pretty bird?  Need daddy to fill you up?”

Bouncing on his fingers, you cry out, “Yes, daddy.  Please, please, need you to fill me up.  Stretch out this pussy,” you pull your shirt over your head, and let your breasts bounce free.

“Fuck. The tits on you, pretty bird.  And the mouth.  You’re gonna be the end of me,” Din growls, working another finger into you as his thumb draws firm circles over your slippery clit.

When Din leans down to take one of your nipples in your mouth, you gasp; your orgasm approaching embarrassingly fast.  The combination of the dirty talk and the fact that it all stemmed from Din wanting to make sure you got to set the boundaries on your derogatory dirty talk, has you absolutely feral for him, “I’m close, Din.  Can’t help it, feels so good.”

“Let go, baby, I got you,” Din promises, intensifying his movements until you come, shaking and nearly sobbing.

Resting your head on Din’s shoulders as he slips out of you, you purr, “Let me clean you up, daddy.”

“Dirty girl,” Din says, smiling down at you.

And with those two words, you feel a fresh wave of heat in your lower belly even though you haven’t yet fully come down from your high; sucking and swirling his fingers in your mouth, you mumble, “Want your cock, Din.”

“What’s that?  You’re still fucked out from my fingers and you want to be my cock sleeve already?”

Uhhhhhhhgg, he is driving you fucking insane.  Coming off his fingers with a pop, you give Din the most innocent look you can muster, “It’s what your little whore needs.”

“Who am I to deny you, pretty bird?” lifting up to pull down his pants, he releases his already leaking cock and lines himself up with your entrance, giving you the go ahead to sink down when you’re ready, “Take what you need, baby.”

Slowly, you sink down, letting his thickness fill you, feeling every delicious inch and stretch of your walls.  When you’re fully seated on Din, you take a moment to revel in this feeling of fullness, having him entirely inside of you, before you start to work yourself on his length.  Each little bounce pulling a moan from your lips and swaying your breasts in Din’s face.  Groping your boobs and pushing them together so he can take as much of the flesh in his mouth at once, Din mumbles, “Perfect tits, baby.  So perfect for my mouth.  You feel so good, pretty bird.  Need to fuck you.”

“Give it to me, daddy.  Use me like a cumrag,” you throw your head back as Din groans and still grasping onto your breasts, starts thrusting up into you.  You’re putty in his hands, a pliant doll for him to use, and he’s taking full advantage, “Such a good little whore for me, letting me use her hole any way I want.”

Your fingers dip to where you’re joined with Din and swipe across your throbbing clit; it takes only four sloppy circles before you wail out Din’s name, coming quickly but intensely.  Closing your eyes, you tuck yourself under Din’s chin and continue to mewl as Din uses your body for his own pleasure.

“Give me all those needy noises.  Need to hear how good I’m making my pretty slut’s pussy feel.”

“Fuck, Din… feels so good.  It’s your pussy, only you can make me – ngh!  Fill me up, daddy. Need your cum.  Please, give it all to me.”

Hearing you beg for his cum pushes Din over the edge and he comes with a roar, shooting his release deep inside you.  Both of you shuddering as he empties into you, holding each other tight, kisses messy and loving.

When your breathing evens, you straighten up to look at Din, glassy-eyed and fucked out; taking in your expression, Din gently kisses you, satisfied and content, mumbling against your lips, “Good talk.”

Laughing, you give him a little punch in the shoulder before kissing him back sweetly.

---

The next morning, Din drops you off at brunch; you let him know that he’s welcome to join, but he makes a good case for going back to his place, “I think I need a fresh change of clothes, pretty bird.  These kind of still smell like that club.”

Jokingly, you pretend to take a whiff and scrunch up your nose.  Din kisses your adorable expression and promises to come pick you up after.

To say the girls are curious about what’s transpired since the birthday dinner is the understatement of the century; when you let them know in the chat that Din would be dropping you off at brunch, your phone had practically vibrated itself off your bedside table from the successive notifications.  Securing your phone in a drawer, you escaped to the shower without reading any of the messages.

You’re sure you and Din were spotted through the windows, but when you sit down in your usual seat, you’re met with nonchalant, innocent faces… that last for approximately 20 seconds before Bea explodes, “What the hell??!?!”

“You dropped a bomb in the group chat and then radio silence?!!”

“That was him outside?! He’s the size of a fucking refrigerator!”

“DO YOU HAVE A SEX LIMP?”

Rory’s outburst stuns several nearby tables into silence, as your friends all turn to face you, expectantly.  Sheepishly, you nod and giggle, “… but he fucked it better yesterday.”

Your friends whoop and cheer so loud you’re sure that you’re going to need to find a new brunch location after today.  Feeling bad for having inadvertently left them in suspense earlier, you tell your friends everything, minus the details about the Fett Family and Din’s past and current ties, leaving it as Din coming from a rough neighbourhood and being hypervigilant about safety.

“Seems like he was trying to look out for you, but wound up being kind of stupid about it,” muses Lala.  Everyone nods; they’re right of course, but the dreamy look you have on your face convinces your friends that you and Din have worked past it.  They press you for more details about your weekend, and you talk so much that your food goes cold.

At one point, you have to remind your friends that this is Katie’s birthday brunch and you shouldn’t be monopolizing the conversation, but Katie waves her hand dismissively and says that all she wants for her birthday is to know how many orgasms you’ve had since she last saw you.

Popping a strawberry in your mouth, you muse, “Including this morning?”

“GIRL.”

Mouth full after adding a forkful of fruit, you hold up both hands, palms out and fingers spread, then fold down one thumb.

“Holy shit, no wonder you had a sex limp.”

The table giggles uncontrollably and you use the opportunity to shovel more food in your mouth before your friends assail you with more questions.

When your plates are being cleared, you lean back in your chair, stomach full, and spot a familiar hulk of a character sitting at the bar.  Giving Din a little wave, he smiles and gets up when you wave him over.

Getting permission from a waiter to pull over a chair, Din folds his large frame into his seat next to you and says, rather nervously, “Hi.  I’m Din.”

“Oh, we know,” cackles Rory, and you cover your face, you’re giggling so much.

You make the introductions, and Din politely shakes everyone’s hands while your friends all smirk knowingly at him.  They’re such menaces.  Din breaks the ice, “So you guys want my place and time of birth to do my star chart?”  This gets a good laugh, and when that dies down, Bea looks Din dead in the eye, “Yeah, we do.”

Din roars with laughter, “Might as well, I have a feeling there aren’t going to be any secrets between me and you ladies.”

“Right-o, dude.  Can you also get some socials so we can keep an eye on you?”

“No can do, sorry.  Like this one says,” Din’s finger jabs lovingly into your side, “I’m too much of an old man.  But you’re all welcome to come and work out at my gym if you want to check up on me.  Anytime,” holding his hands up in surrender.

“Any cute guys at your gym?”

“You’re looking at the cutest guy there,” you cut in, grinning uncontrollably when Din leans over to give you an appreciative kiss on your temple.

Before your friends can groan at this cute display, the waiter who Jen has been trying to flag down comes over so she can ask for the check, and to the table’s surprise, he responds, “The bill’s been paid.  All taken care of,” and gives Din a nod.

You turn to Din, shocked, “Din!!”

Din looks like he’s been caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar, “It was… an accident.”

Incredulously, you say, “Did your credit call fall into the reader?”

“No, no,” Din implores, “I got here early, so I got a coffee at the bar, and then thought I would pay for your meal, pretty bird.”  You instinctively soften at the pet name, and you know your friends do too.

Din runs his hands through his hair, “Then I remembered it was Katie’s birthday, so I asked the waiter if he knew which meal was the birthday girl’s so I could pay for that too,” he’s getting kind of flustered now.  “…Then, I thought that might be kind of unfair for everyone else because you were probably going to split Katie’s meal so now everyone left would be paying more than before… and I couldn’t take it back, so… I just paid for everyone,” he finishes in a hurry.

“Why are you so cute?” you ask, purposefully pouty, pulling Din in for an appreciative kiss – he wasn’t trying to be boastful or impressive, he was just being thoughtful.  You can’t help but feel pride in showing this Din to your friends: he’s charming and confident, but ultimately just a giant teddy bear whose own considerate and kind nature can’t help but shine through.

“Ok fine, you’re forgiven,” quips Rory, and Din breaks out into a huge smile as he mimes wiping his forehead with the back of his hand and exhales, “Whew!”

The girls chorus their thanks, and you know that they’re truly appreciative and touched by his sweet gesture.

“My pleasure,” Din says, genuinely, “and Happy Birthday!” he says to Katie.

“Thank you!  The best birthday gift you could give me is taking care of our girl here,” smiles Katie, with sincerity.

Din wraps his arms around you and you tilt your face up to his, melting into his look of adoration. “Consider it done,” he says softly before lightly pressing his lips to yours.

[pedgito]

hey, im a big fan of your writing. I am also a big fan of Javier Peña, Joel and Din lmao. So can I request a story about either one of those (mostly sfw mainly because im in my feelings) that is more of a hurt/comfort angst? Maybe bottled feelings are freed, a near death experience occurs after a heated confession that didn't go well...? idk I leave it up to you if you want to write it of course. Anyways, again, love love your stories, especially the way your portray Javier. Have a nice week <3

pairing | javier pena x fem!reader

content warning | mostly sfw, arguments over commitment/relationships, mention of violence (bombing), descriptions of minor injuries and emotional distress, just lots and lots of angst [2.6k]

author’s note | this screamed javi so hard so i couldn't pass up the opportunity to write some angst for him

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3

You’ve been at it for months now, waiting for Javier to finally give in and confess to you what he’s been holding back for so long—he’s so closed off it’s impossible, his back turned to you as he grips the chair shoved into the small dining table tucked in the corner of his apartment.

This was supposed to be a one off job, spend a couple months down in Bogotá with Steve—play alongside him in the hopes of catching Escobar, settling into a mix between the three of you, realizing fairly quickly that Peña wasn’t the type of nice guy you were used to.

He was brazen, straight-forward and a little bit—scratch that, a lot of an asshole, so full of himself that it oozed out. Still, that didn’t stop you from climbing into his bed a week into your stay, breaking the one rule you had.

Never fucking sleep with your co-workers.

Look where it got you; fighting an emotionless wall of stone.

He wants you, but he can’t have you. He doesn’t want to see you with other people, but he can’t stake his claim and call you his—but god forbid you so much as consider eyeing another person, someone interested in showing you the attention you wanted, that you deserved. His jealousy is unmatched, the curl in his lip when he sees you across the room around them, the short and fleeting touches they gave to your arm in passing—from your perspective, a simple gesture between friends, but to Javier, it's a threat.

And it wasn’t that he didn’t try to show you attention—Javier was more than that, all-consuming in a way, passionate to a fault. But, he was not a lover type guy.

Still, you were naive enough to think you could change that.

“I’m not doing this anymore,” You spoke strongly, watching the tilt of his head as looks down, burning a cigarette held between his fingers, “whatever this is—we can forget about it.”

“Yeah—I’m sure the others will have a fuckin’ field day when they catch wind,” Murphy let it slip once and it’s been the constant topic of conversation, playful teasing toward you but torture on Peña who likes to keep things private, always, “always eye fucking you across the room.”

“Who cares, Javi?” You ask, feeling like you were talking to a ghost as he refused to look at you. “You don’t give a shit what’s going on here, why should I?”

And it hurts because you do.

It was innocent at first, one hookup that should’ve ended that night. But, one turned into several and eventually you were spending most night at Javier’s apartment to the extent of grabbing dinner on the way there—or, for fucks sake, cooking for the man. You knew that he loved breakfast in the mornings despite his constant refusal to eat it, how he couldn’t focus without his first cup of coffee and why he kept his gun at his bedside and the spare under the mattress.

He’s got scars, faint but visible when you lay against his chest at night—some from childhood, some not, but you wouldn’t know had you not spent the time with him and watched the vulnerability he showed when it was just you, just him after a long, stressful day trying to catch a terrifying monster and the both of you itching to burn off steam.

“You can’t ask me on a date, can’t—jesus—you can’t even look at me, Javier.” He hears the break in your voice, how hard you’re struggling to keep things together.

And you’re fuming, furious, aiming to hit him where it really hurts. You want him to feel. Feel anything.

“You like to play house and let me cook you meals, act like I’m yours when it’s convenient for you.” He twitches at that, slamming the burnt end of the cigarette into the ashtray. It’s the only real sign of emotion he’s shown all morning. “That’s all you care about. Egoísta.” (Selfish)

He slams the ashtray down roughly, ashes flying over the table. You don’t jump or flinch, not at all fazed by his outburst. You saw it too often during work when things fucked up or didn’t go his way. When he did show emotion it was intense and full body.

“I told you,” He says slowly, turning toward you now, “I don’t do this,” He punctuates slowly, fingering wagging between the both of you, “I can’t do—this.”

Clearly.

“Can’t or won’t?”

The difference is staggering, truly. You wanted an answer.

“You tell me you never want me to leave your bed, your apartment, that you want to keep me here forever because there’s nothing that makes you feel this close to home—and you can’t do this?”

He speaks it against your lips almost every night when he’s pulling you into his chest, pressing those soft lips of his against your forehead and kissing you with a tenderness reserved only for you.

Javier never answers, gaze growing more intense by the second, bound to retreat from the situation before emotions boil over—but you beat him to it, grabbing your bag and storming out without a word.

He’s never had to beg you to stay and he doesn’t realize how desperately he’d wished to ask you until a few hours later, a phone call from Steve that has his heart dropping into his stomach, the equal worry in Murphy’s voice as he relays the information.

Steve mumbles your name—hurt, bomb, Escobar written all over it, dead, so many dead.

You’re lucky to still be standing—or rather alive, forced onto a gurney lined in the aisle of some rundown Bogota hospital where the workers were running rampant, clearly on edge and scrambling to save lives.

It was minor compared to what could have been. A small concussion, some lacerations to your face and a nasty gash on your side that required some stitching. It wasn’t anything some pain medication and bandages couldn’t fix, but in that commotion you had lost all of your belongings, undoubtedly damaged beyond repair. You had been in the shopping center ten minutes prior to the explosion and you were shaken, admittedly, wondering why your life had been spared over so many others.

And you always hear about your life flashing before your eyes during a near death experience, never really believing it until it happens—and selfishly, you couldn’t think about anything but Javi.

He was a nasty parasite, the kind that sucked the life and energy out of you, took everything and gave nothing in return. You knew how he was going into things, knew he wouldn’t budge or change his ways.

But still, there was a hope that maybe he would change.

The first thing you manage to do when you find a phone is call the embassy—anyone who would answer and let them know what happened, but they were miles ahead and already fifty feet deep into investigating.

Carillo is the first to ask if you’re okay, not that it matters—but then Murphy is scrambling for the phone, a soft commotion in the background as he argues with the man until he finally lets up and hands it over.

“God, we thought you were dead. Please tell me you’re alright?” Murphy pleads, sounding just as strained and worried as you’d expect, “All your limbs, nothing missing?”

You laugh softly into the phone, the first breath of life back into after what has been a terrible day. It’s already evening, the day has come and gone and the sun is setting without a trace of anyone coming to help.

Not that you expected it—Javier wasn’t the type to get over things easily.

“Yep. Head’s still attached and everything.” And Steve can appreciate your way of coping, adding a bit of lightheartedness to a dark situation. You release a shaky breath, squeezing the plastic tighter until cracks under your grip, “Is there—I mean, they just discharged me, but I don’t have a ride.”

“Javier didn’t pick you up?” Murphy asks, sounding confused. “I told him—he should’ve…”

He trails off, cursing away from the phone as he speaks to someone distantly, “Which hospital are you at?”

You look around for any indication, reading off an unfamiliar name to Steve as he repeats it, scribbling it down on a piece of paper.

“Shit—Javi’s probably clear on the other side of town from you.” Murphy runs a tired hand through his hair, over his face. “They told us they sent everyone to the one here close by the embassy.”

Everyone.

Families searching for their missing—you couldn’t even imagine it.

“He—does Javi think I’m—“

“Shit, I don’t know. He’s been on edge since he got here this morning, we’ve been trying to figure something out, anything—he left a few hours ago when we weren’t getting answers and I just—did something happen?”

“I think I pushed him too far this morning,” You say softly, huddling closer to the wall as the halls become more crowded, louder and suffocating in a way that has your curling around yourself slightly, mindful of the pain in your side, “fuck, maybe this is karma, Steve.”

“Hey, no—don’t say that shit,” He stops you in your tracks, “Javi is…Javi, you can’t predict anything he’s gonna do. Dude’s a fuckin’ brick wall half the time.”

There’s a long moment of silence.

“Steve, I don’t have my phone.” You tell him, “Can you just—call him? Let him know. I need to find a cab or someone willing to drive me back to Bogota if that’s even fucking possible. I don’t even have my wallet or badge with me.”

It’s almost like a divine intervention that you hear Javier on the other end, cutting through the flurry of other voices and busy telephones ringing. He’s wrenching the phone out of Steve’s hand before he can get a word in.

“Querida,” He says soft, voice quivering slightly, “Querida, is that you?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to will yourself to remember how badly things ended earlier in the day, even if they didn’t feel as important now, they were still important to you.

Emotions were high now, but the fallout could be devastating.

“Yes, I’m—Javi, I’m okay. A little banged up and stuff but I’ll survive,” The silence grows as he absorbs the information, “Look, I need to go. I have to find a ride back to town.”

“Don’t move,” He says briskly, suddenly, “Fuck—I mean stay there, no te vayas. I’m coming for you.” (Do not go)

The line cuts before you have a chance to reply.

You love how well he sticks out in a crowd despite how he likes to blend in and not draw attention to himself, but he’s all tanned skin and shiny with a layer of sweat that tells you he probably ran a few blocks to get here.

You did wait, even if it was closer to a half hour before there was any sign of him, despite how upset you still were, you waited.

Of course you did.

His eyes dart around nervously before they land on you, tucked away in a corner as you cradle your side and he’s barreling toward you, scooping you up before you can protest. The small squeak you release has him pulling back like someone stabbed him with a hot brand, brows furrowed with worry.

“My side,” You mumble, shifting his hand away from the wound, watching as it falls helpless to his side again, his gaze lingering over your body, face, seeing the amount of damage you took, “hey—I’m fine, all things considered.”

Javier blinks slowly, rubbing around the side of your jaw, careful of the small bandage covering a nasty cut, that familiar pout growing on his lips. You saw it earlier, but the implication was different.

This wasn’t anger. It was worry.

“Mi amor,” He murmurs, oblivious to the commotion around you both as he looks at you, almost straight through you, “fuck—I’m so sorry.”

You breathe through your nose deeply, shaking your head as you grip his wrist for leverage, pulling him alongside you until you’re outside, away from the crowd of people and alone.

“No, I’m sorry.”

And for once, Javier is surprised.

He knows you always have a comeback poised on your tongue, the will to fight and work through any argument that surfaces, but this is defeat. It’s clear as day on your face in the way it falls, eyes softened to the point of near tears and your cheek covered in a dark bruise that makes his chest hurt.

“I don’t know why I’m forcing you to answer to something you don’t want,” That something in question was you, but it didn’t matter, “maybe we let things drag on too long. I was just—happy, I liked it. I shouldn’t have expected anything from you since you were clear from the beginning.”

Even with Javier being the first to cross the lines he drew himself, asking you to stay that one night and never going back, making mistake after mistake until it stopped feeling wrong and started to seem, well, normal. But, here you were, taking the blame like he had no wrongdoing in any of this.

“Bebita, no.” His voice is low, thumb rubbing a tender spot in the side of your neck, a soft touch that massages the ache in your muscles, head tilting into the touch as you look at him. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Oh, the irony.

“Now look at you,” He says, scanning over your face briefly, “consumes mi mente, nena.” (You consume my mind, baby)

“I can’t do halfway anymore, Javi.” It’s pure honesty, fingers finding his wrist as they wrap around delicate, using his touch as an anchor. “I need all of you.”

“Then have it,” Javier says mindlessly, without thinking and speaking instinct—it’s real, you can see it in the way his eyes widen and soften in the same instance, that pleasing look that entraps you, “tómalo.” (Take it)

The tears that sting your eyes don’t fall, but they rise, blinking rapidly to will them away and force yourself to keep composed despite hearing those words, knowing how deeply he meant them.

“Fuck, I’ll marry you if that proves anything to you, querida.” He’s being over-dramatic, but it has your insides fluttering like wildfire, “I should’ve never let you leave this morning.”

But, he was scared. Terrified of how deeply he felt for you.

“There’s so much you don’t know,” Javier explains, “so much I need to tell you but I don’t want to scare you away.”

As if he could.

“Javi, I’m with you.” You tell him steadily, “I always have been.”

Javier laughs through a sigh, breathing through his nose as he smiles for the first time that day.

“We can talk. We will.” Javier nods assuredly, “But, I want to get you home first.”

Home. He means his apartment, but it comes out that way without realizing.

He’s tender when he helps you shower, cleans your wounds up with what little first aid he has, but he manages, helping you dress in what has to be the most vulnerable moment you’ve had since meeting him.

Javier holds you for a long while after that, curled up in his lap on the sofa as he smokes away with his head leaned against the back of the cushion, rubbing a hand over your thigh softly.

“Hermosa?”

You’re nearly asleep by then, rousing with a small hum.

“After all of this,” He trails on, “when we put Escobar away and this shit is done,” He pauses, taking a short drag from the cigarette and blowing it out into the air, “I want you to come back with me.”

“To Texas?”

He nods, squeezing your leg for reassurance.

“I'm terrified of losing you here, but home—I would never let you out of my sight, I could keep you close.”

His trepidation will always be his downfall, but he knows he can’t let you go anymore. He needs you here, he’ll need you after.

“Anywhere you want, Javi. I’ll follow.”

He doesn’t have any reason not to believe you.

“Buena.” (Good.)

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[danikamariewrites]

if you still write for dark reader, could i please request a crack fic with the batboys where her idea of fun is being kidnapped and getting herself out.

” hey rhys, have you seen y/n? ”

” oh she’s kidnapped, she should be home in time for dinner ”

” oh okay thanks ”

and reader just walks in covered in dirt and someones blood, she quickly showers and debriefs and they all talk about it like it’s the most normal thing ever

” rhys i’m going to hunt a criminal i saw last week, you in? ”

” i wish darling but i’ve got an execution planned, maybe next week? ”

” okay thats fine, maybe cassian or az? ”

” sure we’d love to come!! ”

” great!!! ”

Favorite Crimes

Batboys x reader

A/n: this is funny af thank you for requesting this 😂

Warnings: dark reader and bat boys, kidnapping, blood, descriptions of gore (i think but nothing too bad), murder, and mentions of sexual harassment

Cassian was positively perplexed as to where in the world you are. You weren’t in the library, or Azriel’s weapons room, and you weren’t in either of the living rooms. He knew you didn’t have anything planned today which made him even more curious as to where you were.

Lightly knocking on Rhys’s office door, poking half his body in. “What’s up Cass,” the High Lord says without looking up from his paper work. “Do you know where y/n is?” “Yes,” Rhys’s face scrunched in thought.

“She told me that she spotted a few of Beron’s spies lurking in town. So she got herself kidnapped. But she’ll be home for dinner.” Cassian let out a small hum. “Wait, again?” “Yup.” Cassian let out another hum and went to his own office.

Just after sunset you winnowed back into the house. “I’m home!” You yelled out, unlacing your boots and setting them by the boys’ boots. The three of them came thundering down the stairs coming to halt, taking you in. You were covered in dirt from head to toe, blood spattered on you where dirt was missing.

You smiled at the boys, skipping past them upstairs. “I’m taking a bath, we’ll talk at dinner.” You said over your shoulder. The three males shared a look and shrugged, heading into the dinning room.

Once you were clean and in fresh clothes you joined your mates at the table. Azriel placed a steaming plate of chicken and veggies in front of you with a kiss on your head. “How was your kidnapping darling?” Rhys asked. You let out an excited hum around the fork in your mouth.

“So much fun! Beron truly employs idiots. So they took me from the city to the border forest between Winter and Autumn. You know the little area that is a mix of winter and autumn? I was tied up and they were waiting for Beron but broke free and the fight was nasty. Cassian you would’ve loved it.

“They did try to bury me at one point but I climbed out. Then I killed them all, which was fairly easy in the end.” They had interjected little cheers and ‘good jobs’ through out your story. It made your cheeks tint pink. It made you happy that they were proud of you.

“What did you do with them?” Azriel asked. “Oh, I stuck their ridiculous swords through them and propped them up like scarecrows for Beron to find.” Cassian snorted, letting out a deep laugh. Rhys was looking at you with amazement. “Wow. You are just incredible darling.”

You blushed again, dipping your chin and looking away from them. Rhys then asks what you all plan on doing this week. When it’s your turn you start nervously playing with your hair. “When I was at Rita’s with Mor I overheard a few females talking about this male who was touching them and he wouldn’t back off. I was going to take him to the woods, hunt him, and torture him. Do you wanna come with me?” You asked, voice full of hope.

Rhys pouted at you, “I’m sorry darling I can’t that day. I have an execution planned in Hewn City.” “That’s ok Rhysie. Cassie, Azzy any interest in coming with me?”

“Hell yeah baby,” Cass said enthusiastically. Az wrapped his arm around you placing a kiss on your temple. “We’ll always come with you baby.” You let out an excited sound clapping your hands lightly. “You guys are the best.”

[ladylooch]

How Would I? - Nico Hischier

A/N: I am going to be honest and say I am actually nervous to post this. I went back and forth on if I needed to soften this up. Ultimately, I feel it is much better as is. But this is definitely dark, so please read at your own discretion!

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Robbery, assault, broken bones, pregnancy talk, violence. 

“Hi.” I whisper to my husband via FaceTime. My feet gently rock Lucie and I on the rocking chair in her room. Nico smiles excitedly when he sees my face. He is leaning against the brick wall of the Prudential Center. The team is having a Dine with the Devils charity event at the arena. 

“Hi.” Nico murmurs back. “She asleep?”

“Yeah.” I flip the camera so he can see Lucie’s angelic face. She had a big day playing with Lio at an indoor play house, then having pizza for dinner. 

“Good. Her and Lio have fun?”

“So much.” I smile, turning the camera back onto me.

“Cause trouble too?”

“Of course.” I roll my eyes. “They conspired by hiding in the upper slides. Only came out when Emma started yelling at them in Swiss German.” Nico chuckles. “The other parents gave her quite the look.” Emma holding her pregnant belly with each heavy inhale added another layer to the picture. 

“I’m sure.” He sighs, glancing up and giving a polite nod as a group of fans walks by to the locker room for their tour. “I should be home in an hour or so. Things are wrapping up.”

“Sounds good.” I adjust the screen in my hand. “Can’t wait.”

“Me too, babe. See you soon. I love you.”

“Love you too.” We pucker our lips for smooches, then click off. “Okay, Luc.” I whisper, then stand. My almost five month bump protrudes out as I maneuver Lucie into her bed. She startles a bit, gripping onto her penguin pillow pet. I back away quietly, then shut the door completely behind me. 

I hold my belly as I walk back down the stairs. I feel so huge this pregnancy. With Lucie, it seemed like I stayed small until the very end when she began gaining a pound a week. But with  this daughter, I’ve been popping since last month. I scratch at the itchy skin around my belly button then head into the kitchen. I finish loading the dishwasher, reaching around for the detergent in the bottom cabinet. I hear the front door open and foot steps on the rug in the entry way. I stand up, closing the dishwasher and pushing the on button.

“Wow, that had to have been record speed.” I say making sure the light turns on for the wash cycle. There is no response. I move to turn around but a hand clasps over my mouth. This is not Nico. Fear jolts through my body and I try to pull away.

“Stop. If you do what I say, you and your daughter won’t be harmed.” It’s a man. A voice I don’t recognize. My heart lurches into my throat. I stiffen. “I am going to release you now. The last thing you want to do is scream. We wouldn’t want your little daughter upstairs to wake up, Mrs. Hischier.”

I can sense he has been watching us. He knows Lucie is asleep. He knows where her room is. He knows who I am. Who Nico is. It’s all panic inducing. The baby kicks against my abdomen as he releases me.

“Go to the table.” He presses something cold to the back of my neck. I have never felt a gun against my skin before, but it sure feels like one. I purse my lips together and slowly move to the dining area. I glance around, looking for a weapon, cursing earlier me that cleaned up the kitchen. The knives are across the kitchen. The vase is too far away to grab. And the very real possibility of a gun being on my neck stops any other thoughts of fighting.

“What do you want?” I ask, surprise at how still my voice is. 

“No questions.” He presses the cool metal even deeper into my skin. The more he talks, the younger he sounds. He rips out one of the dinning room chairs and harshly shoves me down onto it. My stomach bottoms out. The baby kicks harder and I push a hand over her. “You’re lucky you’re pregnant. Otherwise you’d be dead.” My mouth crumbles as he touches my hair. I pull harshly away. “I’m going to tie you up. You’re going to be quiet. I’ll grab what I want and leave. You scream, I take your daughter with me.” 

“Please. Let me go to her room. We’ll stay there together. You can take whatever you want. Please. Just… don’t hurt her.” I am sobbing now, thinking of this man upstairs alone with my daughter sleeping. I feel helpless, incapable of protecting her from the greatest danger.

“Your daughter’s safety depends on your cooperation and yours only. Keep your mouth shut and Nico won’t see your dead bodies when he gets home.”

The way he talks about Nico drips with disdain. A gloved hand comes around, grabbing my wrist and forcing it behind my back. I try to fight against him for the other one, but he yanks down on my shoulder which causes a sharp pain through my shoulder blade. No other words are shared as he duct tapes my feet together. Tape gets slapped over my mouth too. Tears immediately trace over the grey strip.

His retreating footsteps can be heard going up the stairs. I’m stuck. I can’t move the chair. If I tip over, I’ll fall onto the baby. I dig my finger nails into my palm, more tear tracks falling down my cheeks. I listen intently for Lucie. She will scream if he goes in there. I know she will. But no sounds come from upstairs. Nothing except the muted foot steps that I’ll never forget the sound of.

His boots hit the hardwood again. My whole body tenses as I feel him approach from behind. I grit my teeth, trying not to show any fear outwardly. Wanting to swing at him with everything in me and rip his fucking eyes out for invading our home.

“One last thing.” He sneers into my ear, reaching for the wedding bands on my left ring finger. I make a fist, trying to keep them on. “Release or I’ll cut your finger off.” He forces my fingers apart, tugging the rings harshly off. As he is pulling back, I’m able to get my finger nails on him. I press hard then drag, drawing blood. “Bitch!” He grabs the back of my head and throws me to the ground. I land hard on my side. I cringe, feeling the pain shoot through my collarbone. He steps towards me. I turn, looking him dead in his masked face. He stands over me. “All you rich bitches are the same. Ungrateful sluts.” He leans down, grabbing my face, pressing his fingers in. “Should untie you and teach you a lesson.” 

“Dude! Lights are coming down the street! Let’s go!” Someone else yells into the house. 

“Guess I’ll have to come back instead. Maybe on your husband’s next road trip.” He releases my face, stepping over me towards the front door. The voices disappear and the house is quiet again after a click of the front door. His final words hang violently in the air.

I close my eyes, heavy tears running down from my eyes. I pant heavily, struggling to stretch my feet to loosen the tape. I don’t want Nico to find me like this. Every movement makes my chest and shoulder shoot with pain. It isn’t long before the pain is unbearable. I fight back the nausea from it. With the duct tape still on my mouth, I’ll choke If I puke. 

“Nico.” I sob against the stickiness over my mouth. Panic is bubbling up, tightening my throat. I stop fighting, eventually growing still, trying to minimize the damage to myself and the baby by becoming calm. 

I focus on my breathing. I go to the happiest memories I can think of with Nico. I imagine I’m in bed with him in the morning. He is holding me close, placing soft kisses along my face, waking me up from a light sleep. I hear soft baby giggles coming from Lucie as he whispers for her to give me kisses too. It works. The sound of the garage door opening breaks through my safe place. Then the door opens. Nico tosses his keys on the counter. He walks beyond it, shrugging his jacket off.

His gasp rocks my body when he sees me.

“Oh my god, Lex!” He exclaims, his Nike’s slapping the wood floor as he rushes to me. His hands grab my tired hands. I yelp. He stops, then grabs the tape. “Sorry, sorry, sorry! Oh my god, baby what happened?!” His brown eyes are wild, mouth dropped open in shock, breathing rapid. “Are you okay?” He reaches down for the baby, then goes back to my hands.

“Don’t pull my hands. I think my collar bone is broken. He gently works my hands apart. Then goes into the kitchen to grab some scissors. When he has me untied, he works me onto my back. 

“Go grab Lucie.” I say. 

“Baby, what happened!”

“Go. Grab. Lucie!” I scream back at him. “Make sure she is okay.” Nico backs up, then runs up the stairs, two at a time, barreling into her room.

“It’s daddy, baby. It’s okay. Just daddy. Let’s go help mommy.” He comes back into view, holding her close to him. His eyes meet mine and his face distorts in pain. He brings Lucie to the couch, then comes back to me.

“Call the police. Someone broke in, tied me up, and took who knows what. All I know for sure is they took my wedding rings.” I hold my hand up, Nico looks at the vacant space. A darkness I’ve never seen before crosses over his features. “Can you help me sit up?” I give him my good arm, then sit up with his help. I run my hand over the baby, anxious to feel her move. Nico watches as he pulls his phone out.

“Hi, I need to report a break in… and um, they hurt my wife.” He is stuttering, barely able to form English words.

The police come. EMTs too. They want me to go to the hospital for x-rays and and an ultrasound for the baby. Nico scours through the video systems we have, including the baby monitor. No one entered Lucie’s room after I did, which is a relief. It also makes it difficult to give a description of the suspect because they cut the wires leading to our security system. The police believe with the quickness of the break in and the retelling of my story that they had been casing the house. They waited for me to put Lucie to sleep. For Nico to be gone. For me to be at my most vulnerable. 

Nico’s fingers gripped mine so tight when the police officer said that, I had to make him let go.

The x-ray confirm my collarbone is broken. They put me in a sling and schedule me for a follow up appointment next week. I can’t take pain killers; they tell me to monitor my Advil intake because of the baby.

It is hours before we return home. Nico’s car pulls up to the house, but it looks different. Dangerous and dark in the early morning hours.

“We are moving.” Nico says as he walks behind me in the garage with Lucie in his arms. “You are not staying here without me. Every time I am gone, you are leaving too.”

“Nico.” I sigh. 

“No Lex. He told you he would be back. I’m not willing to take that chance. Do not argue with me on this.” He shuts the door behind him. “I already sent a text to Steve in hockey ops. He’s grabbing us a place in Hoboken while we search for a new house. We will move into Timo and Emma’s gated community.”

“But this is our home.” I start to cry. He brings Lucie to the couch, then engulfs me into his chest, careful of my sling. He presses kisses along my head, then tilts my face so he can kiss my lips. “This is where we said we would bring all our babies home from the hospital. Where they would take their first steps. And grow up. And be in a safe place. They took that from us tonight!”

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” 

Holding me isn’t going to make any of this better, but he tries as hard as he can.

- - -

Nico watches Lexi and Lucie sleep next to him later that night. Lexi is propped up on pillows, the elbow of her broken collar bone supported by them too. To Nico, she looks fragile, with a sling and a growing belly.  He reaches out for her bump, then skims that same hand along Lucie’s head where she sleeps cuddled into her baby sister. 

He’s tried to fall asleep numerous times already, but he can’t.

He is fiercely angry.

Angry that someone robbed his house. Irate that some piece of shit hurt his wife. Poisoned by the visual of his pregnant wife tied up and in pain. Terror still fills his veins on what he imagined he would see of their daughter as he ran up the stairs. 

All these images and emotions run through his mind. He can’t let it go. The police officers had been gentle yet realistic that they may never find the people who did this. 

Fine, then Nico would. If they can’t do their job, he’ll hire someone better. The best money can buy. He’d bring investigators from Switzerland. He didn’t care. He was going to fucking find them.

None of the cameras in the neighborhood caught them. Yet, they were able to pull DNA from under Lexi’s nails of whoever tied her up. That was enough for him. Nico wants five minutes in a room with him to do permanent damage. He understands now how people can be capable of murder.

Him and Lex should have never picked this house. They had other options that provided a security presence, but they thought they were safe. Well, now he knew better. He should have been a better father and husband by forcing the gated community house.

Lexi stirs again her pillows, letting out a soft groan. Nico reaches out for her face, brushing her cheek lightly with his thumb.

“I need something.” She gulps down a tentative sip of water. “Can I take Advil yet?” Nico looks at the time on his watch sitting on the bedside table.

“Yeah, sweets. I’ll be right back.” He gently leaves the bed, careful not to rustle Lexi or Lucie. Their daughter immediately stretches her little feet out to take over his side of the bed. Normally he hates her feet against his back because she kicks him throughout the night. Tonight, it’s everything to him.

Nico comes back to Lexi with two Advil. She sits up to take it with Nico’s help. He rubs her back, anger intensifying at every flicker of pain on her body.

“Baby, I am going to find who did this.” He whispers to his wife. “They’re going to pay for this.”

“Neeks…” Lexi murmurs back, reaching for his face with her good hand. She strokes his skin, eyes wary with worry. Nico looks back at her, gaze hard, until he loses it completely. He drops his gaze to her belly when he feels the tears.

“I almost lost my whole world tonight.” Lexi sniffs because she is crying too. “How would I live without you, baby?” Lexi shakes her head, not sure what to say to her husband. 

Gradually, with Lexi’s guidance, Nico lays his head into her lap. His nose presses into their growing baby while Lucie’s hand twitches against his hair. Lexi and Nico join hands on her bump.

The room is silent. The heavy thoughts of their night hanging over them. 

Lexi finally gets Nico to sleep by gently stroking his hand, continuously murmuring to him that she’s still here.

[zweetpea]

TBRAHE chapter 9 The Congressional Hearing

WARNING!!!! GORE SLIGHT YANDERE CONTENT

“AH!! RIKO COME BACK HERE!!” You woke up to the sound of Addison’s shouts, and crashing outside the door. 

“Ugh… can’t they just leave us to sleep?” Satoru’s voice came from beside you.

You looked over at him in shock. "What the heck are you doing in here?!"

He looked at you with big pleading eyes. "Cuddling my wife?" You merely rolled your eyes and shoved him out of bed. "OW! That hurt!" Satoru whined

"GET OUT OF MY ROOM!!" You screamed and wrapped the cover around you.

"But I thought we were on good terms now..." He pouts. 

You glare at him. "THAT DOESN'T MEAN THAT YOU GET TO INVADE MY PRIVATE QUARTERS!" You pushed him out of your room.

"Okay okay! I'll go!" He stopped at the door. "But before I do..." He smirks. "I just wanna say. you look really cute in a nightgown." He ran off before you could say anything else.

You stood there flabbergasted and blushing. "Tch. That idiot." You go to the closet and pick out an off the shoulder light blue dress empire dress with a white corset. You then put on some white gloves and heeled boots.

You walked out of your room and saw Addison struggling to hold Riko in her hands. You giggled a bit and walked over the two before you grabbed Riko and gave Addison a small kiss on the forehead. "You always know how to make my day, you know that?"

"Thank you. I'm glad I could give you at least a little relief on a stressful day as this." She smiled. You two walked to the dinning room. "Are you sure you're ready for the congressional meeting?" She asked looking at you sympathetically.

You breathed in and out trying to compose yourself. 'A queen must be elegant and unbothered. Especially when her husband is an idiot who wears his heart on his sleeve.' You thought before you turned to Addison. "I'm fine Addie. Really." You tried to reassure her as you both reached the dinning room. you sat next to Satoru as he sat at the end of the table.

"You know I'd let you have the end if you really wanted. I don't know why you insisted that I sit here." He made casual small talk.

"It's a matter of principle Satoru. You are the head of the household." You picked at your breakfast.

"And you're the head of my heart." He threw out a cheesy line and you struggled not to react at how bad that line was.

"Respectfully that doesn't make any sense." You ate in small pieces as would be expected of you. Satoru grabbed the pieces of his breakfast that he knew you liked and started scaping them onto your plate. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure my wife is full. I don't believe in the dainty etiquette crap." He said sternly.

You glared. "I have to get into the mindset of a proper queen! What would parliament say if I started acting like a slob!" You defended.

"Nothing unless they wanted their heads blown off!" Satoru smirked.

"Be serious." You rolled your eyes.

"I am." He stood from his chair and turned yours to face him. He then knelt and took your hand in his. "I swear from this moment on that should anyone disrespect you... they will be killed on sight."

You deadpanned at him and scarfed down your food. "There. Happy?"

"NO!! Are you okay?! You could have choked! Or gotten hiccups!" He panicked as he gently grasps your face. You rolled your eyes in response. "Are you sure you're okay? I should probably give you mouth to mouth just to be sURE!" He screamed as you activated your cursed technique and hoist him up in the sky. "Hey put me down!"

"If you insist." You smirked and dropped him on his face. "Let's hope that doesn't bruise." You teased and walked off. "I'll meet you out front by the carriage." You informed and waltzed out front.

Five minutes later he joined you and the carriage pulled away to the capital building.

Just as you reached the building Satoru opened the door and stepped out before he turned back and held out his hand to you. You took it and stepped out before you grabbed his arm and you walked in to find Geto waiting for you, mostly for Satoru.

"Suguru!" Satoru hugged him.

"Hello Satoru." Geto hugged him back.

"Duke Suguru." You nodded to him.

"My queen." He bowed in respect.

"No she's my queen." Satoru smiled and wrapped an arm around your waist.

You rolled your eyes. "Let's go boys." You pulled them both by their ears to the court room.

It was a circular room reminiscent of old Greek lecture halls. The hall was full of men. Nobles men and sorcerers who married noble women. This was going to be very hard to convince them all. But this was something you need to do. You need to do this for Addison! Oh and also because you promised Toji... but mostly for Addison!

"OKAY EVERYONE SETTLE DOWN!! MY WIFE HAS SOMETHING IMPORTANT TO SAY!!" Satoru yelled as you and him settled at the bottom of the court room. 

"Thank you Satoru. I'm sure you've all heard the news. We're here to review the Zenin act. I'm calling to abolish it once and for all. It's a discriminatory act that it too far outdated to have any actual merit. I'm proposing a full overturning of-"

"Now wait a minute! That's completely insane and outrageous!" A man in upper middle of the hall shouted at you.

"Who the hell are you?!" Satoru yelled at the man

He stands and bows. "Your highness. My name is Vidar, I am a viscount." You froze in fear. "I was merely saying that it's preposterous to change this law that has been in place for over two decades now. I mean you two weren't even conceived yet when the law was drafted 25 years ago. What good do those filthy nonsorcerers do for our nation?" Murmurs of agreeance ring through the crowd.

"Now that's not totally fair!" Geto stood up from his seat. "I've seen first hand what nonsorcerers will do for someone who actually believes they are their equal. Given the proper education and cultivation of their skills I think they could be a wonderful asset."

"Oh really? Have you hired any?" Vidar smirks.

"N-no... but I am not in the current need for any new staff. Should I need more staff I'd be happy to look in heavily nonsorcerers populated areas." Geto counters.

"Okay that's enough everyone! Thank you Suguru." Satoru nodded. "We should be focused on my wife though, she put a lot of effort into this bill and you all will be silent and respectful to her!"

"Um... Thank- thank you, Satoru. See... we- we're on the brink of war..." You stuttered, shaking a bit; out of fear or rage you didn't know. This was the man who took your mother, your sister, and your step mother.

Satoru sighed. "Sit down."

"But-"

"I'll handle it..." He kissed your temple. "Now, listen to me! We are on the verge of a war! We don't have the time energy or resources to discus this. If we don't let nonsorcerers into our army our proud nation is going to fall! Do you want that? Or do you want to become the shining empire my Grandfather swore we would be when he took the throne? He swore that within two generations we would subsume the Nation of Curses and become the greatest empire known to man! Now do you want to stand with us in making that happen or do you want to fall to the hands of King Sukuna and his General Mahito!"

It was strange seeing Satoru get fired up like this. The crowd seemed to mostly be won over by his speech. You however felt humiliated. You had to rely on him to actually get these people to listen to you. A few more rebuttals and replies were tossed around the room until you all called for lunch.

You and Satoru were in a private office eating and drinking tea when Satoru broke the silence. 

"Are you okay?" He asked concerned, placing his hand over yours.

"I'm fine..." You lied, it felt like you were dying inside.

"Are you sure?" Satoru asked, pulling his blindfold down to look you in the eyes.

"Yeah... thank you for standing up for me back there." You looked away.

"Of course... we're a team remember?" He smiled at you.

"I... I have a confession to make..." You look at your lap nervously. "I'm scared... and I'm angry... but I'm mostly embarrassed. I let my emotions get the best of me and I left you pick up the slack for me... I'm sor-" he places a finger over your mouth.

"Don't ever be sorry... I did the same to you when I was depressed and when I was with Marissa. I'm the one who should be apologizing. And that's what I'm trying to do. I'm trying to apologize for every stupid thing I've ever done to you. Now please tell me why you're angry and scared so that I can help you."

"My..." You started but didn't know what to say. 

Satoru grabbed your hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "It's okay... take your time."

"...my mother and sister and step mother were killed by the Viscount Vidar." You started shaking finally saying it. It felt so unreal... finally getting to say it... finally getting to tell someone...

Satoru stood up and hugged you. You leaned into him as tears streamed down you face. You buried your face in his chest as he consoled you. "Let it out... I'm here... I'm going to protect you. Because that's what we do for each other. You pull me from the darkness, and I shield you from it."

"Thank you, Satoru..." For a brief moment you let your emotions show, and for a brief moment you felt safe...

"Lunch is almost over... You go back to the meeting hall, I'm going to sort this out, okay?" You nodded at his words and you both went you separate ways.

As everyone filled in Suguru came to stand next to you on the floor.

"Suguru? What are you doing here?" You whisper shouted in confusion and concern.

"Satoru sent me. I've got your back. Now let's win this case for your little girlfriend."

"She's not my-"

"I think we can all agree that this case is nothing more that the comedic delusion of a sexually driven mad queen. We all know why she's doing it! She want's to bed that little maid of hers. While that thought is a particularly tempting one to think about, it is inherently evil and vial for a Sorcerer and nonsorcerer to be together. We aren't even the same species as them." Marquis Naoya Zenin took the lead on the opposing side.

Geto tried to protest but he was cut off. "Hey now-"

Naoya smirks, "Now my father and I have actually drafted up a proposal to eradicate nonsorcerers once and for all-"

You stood from your seat, papers flying everywhere. "DON'T YOU DARE! IF YOU SO MUCH AS HURT A SINGLE HAIR ON ADDISONS HEAD I'LL HAVE MY HUSBAND BLOW YOURS RIGHT OFF!!" You composed yourself. "Now I suggest you sit you perverse ass down before I send Suguru up there to bend you over his knee and spank you like the ill behaved brat you are."

"Personally I think you should send me up there anyway." Geto smirked.

"Now I want someone to give me an actual reason that nonsorcerers shouldn't be allowed to have the same rights as us." The crowd was silent. "Thank you. Now who would like to sign the Bill overturning the Zenin act first?"

...

After a while you put your law in place and felt a weight being lifted off your shoulders.

You met up with Satoru in his office later to discuss what happened.

"Hey." You said as you opened the door.

"Hey..." He smiled tiredly as you walked over to him.

"Where did you go earlier?" You tilted your head in morbid curiosity and a small sense of dread.

Satoru merely handed you a big gift wrapped box and warned you to brace yourself. You opened it up and saw the severed head of Vidar.

Your stomach dropped "...what have you done..."

"Don't you see? I did it for us! I did it for you." He smiled twistedly.

"Why would you do that?" You asked panicked.

"Because he hurt you..." He responded nonchalauntly.

"But we don't know if that was true! I heard it from my dad but I don't know the full story!" You paced back and forth.

He pulled you into his arm and just held you. "It doesn't matter... He stood against you and I promised you that anyone who did would fall to my hands." He just stood there, you shaking in his arms. 

[satrs]

Can’t feel my face - bllk x fem!Reader N°9

Oli is so babygirl urghhh

THE NEXT MORNING,

you woke up to the ring of your alarm, groaning while stretching yourself to get ready for the day.

As you were done with your usual morning routine, you noticed the smell of food coming from the kitchen, drawing you right to it.

And there stood Oliver, with your Girish pink apron wrapped around his hips, preparing food for the morning.

Your giggle at his appearance made him look over to you, leaning against the door while watching him with a sly smirk.

He returned it, putting the last preparations onto the plate, motioning you to sit at the dinning table.

„Here. Thought you would like it.“ you looked at the plate with a skeptic look, earning an offended look from the raven haired.

„C‘mon, I’m a great cook! Just try!“ you carefully lifted the food up into your mouth, chewing down on it.

Oliver looked at you with excitement, waiting for your reaction. You hummed, delighted at the taste, signaling him that it tasted good. “Damn, it’s bomb.”

“Told you.” he chuckled, making his way back into the kitchen to clean up.

“Oli‘?” his neck turned towards you at the mention of his name, „you didn’t have to. Really. You can stay as long as needed, you’re no burden for me in any way.“

He returned a wholehearted smile, „It’s the least I could do. I’m so thankful for your kindness, Y/N.“

You flashed him a loving smile back yourself, before eating up and making your way to work.

Oliver was quick to take your finished plate from you, saying his goodbye to you.

He decided to clean up the kitchen and then look for other things he could assist you with while you were already out for work, he just felt obligated to do so.

The living room was already tidy. He has also done the kitchen just now. Bathroom? Also done. The only room left would be- your bedroom.

He entered your bedroom, heart pounding in his heart as if he would face a frightening sight, clearly exaggerating.

He came to view with a fairly clean room, only noticing a full laundry basket at the corner of your lonely room.

He decided to do you a favor and clean your dirty clothes, even when the panties he saw made him act like a virgin boy, he still managed to tear his gaze off of them and throw them into the washing machine.

【☆】★【☆】

Meanwhile, you, some hours later were just getting off from your shift, deciding to take a quick break in a nearby café.

You took a seat near the window, muscles visibly relaxing as you sat down, a small sigh escaping your mouth as your tensed face relaxed.

You ordered a small drink to calm yourself and get ready with whatever you would have to face when you come home. As you sat around, glazing around the café.

Once you enjoyed your drink, you were about to get out cash to pay for your order, but you noticed a fancy looking business card.

"You still got my card, right? Call me up whenever."

Right, Reo gave you that card. His number was on the back of it. Should you give him a call? Maybe the job offer wasn't that bad if you think about it twice. You would probably earn much more than with whatever you're working for right now.

You would have to give it your all, doing those small 'operations' was no joke after all.

Reo's previous words linger and overflow your mind, growing more positive to the idea of accepting the job.

It is a bit late, but he said call up whenever, right?

You dialed the number in your phone, hesitating before pushing the call button. After only a few rings, someone picked up at the other line.

"Hello?", it was Reo's voice, clearly, exhaustion of the day lingering in his voice.

He sounds so hot. What the hell.

"Helloooo?" His dragged out answer made you snap out of it, stumbling over your answer.

"H-hey, it's me. Uhm, Y/N?", you questioned your own response as if you didn't know your name yourself.

A surprised but satisfied hum rang from the other line at the sound of your name. "Oh, Y/N! Hope you're doing well. What's up?"

Reo questioned from the other side of the phone, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, trying to hide that fact how excited he is to hear your voice.

Yes, it was only one day ago when he last saw you but, he wasn't very pleased with the outcome of your conversation. He wanted to talk to you more, maybe even invite you home to his expensive mansion.

He figured now would be the perfect chance. After he knew why you called, of course. One step at a time, Reo.

"So I kind of thought about your offer and," you thought about it? You want to do it? You need to meet up, like, now. Discuss the details and shit. Pure business, nothing else. Alright, maybe something else. Fuck, he was about to jump up out of pure joy.

"And I'm thinking about accepting it."

Holy shit, yes.

He let out a low cough to cover up his excitement, eyes flickering around the room nervously, careful to what to respond. "What's stopping you? The money? I told you, you wouldn't have to worry about that."

"Well, I kinda do, I got a job after all." You got a job? Of course, you do, you're a grown woman. A beautiful at that, no, gorgeous even you were-

"You still there?", he quickly averted his attention back to your voice. "Yes. Yes! Uhm, I think we should discuss something so important like this in person. Are you free right now? I know it's kinda late, but it won't take long. Not if you want it to."

Your chuckle ringed in Reo's ear, "Fine. Is this a job interview, then?" It was his turn to let out a low laugh, amused by your answer.

"Yes, you could say that."

【☆】★【☆】

You stood before a mansion as you would imagine it in a movie. It was truly breathtaking.

After you hung up on the call and stated Reo your current location, a fancy looking car came to pick you up, driving around parts of the city you never even knew existed.

As you saw big and fancy houses in the distance, you felt poorer the more you came near them, the big buildings overwhelming you completely.

You knew Reo had a lot of money, but wow, this was far behind your imagination. You stood in front of the gates of his home, the Name Mikage written on the Gates in big bold letters.

As the gates opened, the owner stood before you in the flesh, a cocky smile on his face as he noticed your expression.

"Nice, huh?", your eyes flickered between his and the mansion he stood before,"Nice? This is- crazy."

He laughed at your answer, motioning you to follow him into his home. Inside, you were met with an even more shocking view: Floor length windows, ridiculously expensive furniture, and the huge pool you could see through the windows adding the cherry on top.

【☆】★【☆】

Meanwhile, Oliver was getting a bit worried. He didn't know why you would take so long to get home and also, he didn't even have your number to call you. What a pain in the ass.

"Shit."

Maybe you went out? But during a weekday, to this hour? Anyway, he couldn't do anything but wait and hope you're doing alright.

【☆】★【☆】

"So, how much do you want?", you looked at the purple haired man dumbfounded, confused by his question. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, pretty. Say how much you want for the job, you'll get it. Anything." Anything?

Your mind was floating with ideas, one million? No, no, that's too much- but it wouldn't hurt him, right? You should think about this really well. What is something that-

"But if I were to lose, I would have to stop boxing. Forever. Well, you can tell what happened from then."

This is it. "I want you to let Oliver in the ring again." You felt obligated to do so. You pitied him, figuring this would help him in his current situation. A little help to step back into life again.

Who? Oh- that old hag. But what do you have to do with him? You fuck buddy? Fucking hell.

Reo's mood was quick to change, tone of his voice turning more bitter. "What?"

"You heard me. And a good wage too, of course." you leaned back in your seat, taking a sip of the drink he poured you. You had realized that Reo was growing bitter, clearly not in the mood to talk about him when he has you right here to accompany him.

He looked at you in disbelieve, letting out a heavy sigh at your determination. "Under one circumstance."

Your ears peaked up at the sound of his voice, attention now firmly on him, wanting him to continue.

"You'll have to work every time blue lock is open." That was manageable. Yes, it was working late but, you could finally quit your low budget job and get some good cash, maybe even rent a bigger apartment. Oh, and all the dresses you could buy. What about shoes? Bags? You couldn't stop drooling at the thought.

"And, I'll take you out on a date. When I want too." Huh? He's acting like this would be a punishment for you, why? Going on a date with a rich ass man is not ordinary, so why not?

You were quick to agree, causing Reo to swiftly jump in excitement. His action made you giggle, and you soon noticed that it was late. Really late.

You told him that you should go, and he offered to drive you home, to which you agreed.

You were left dumbfounded again, as he escorted you to his garage, various expensive cars parked there. You were really close to asking him if he could maybe give you one of them.

"Please." He held open the passenger seat for you, hand extended to assist you in getting into the seat. As you got comfortable in the seat, he placed a soft kiss on your hand, eyes borring right through your soul, leaving you flustered.

"I let your place get build, you know." Reo broke through the silent but comfortable ride, one hand on the wheel as he tapped it with his index finger.

"What really?" You were surprised, because when you told him where to drop you off, he told you this. This man really owns everything in town, huh?

"Mhm. Thought it would be necessary, since there's a shortage of apartments around here. Everyone should be able to have a place they could call home."

So he was not only rich, charming, but also caring of others? You were surprised, since it's not usual for the higher people of society to care for the lower or middle class.

"That's really nice of you, Mr. Mikage." He chuckled at your words, quick to correct you. "Please, stop with the formalities. It's simply Reo for you, princess."

You were not yourself at the moment because why the hell were you getting so flustered over a simple nickname? You were called many by various men, but it sounded so different coming off of Reo's tongue. Why was that?

You turned your head to the window to hide your flustered state, causing the man to quickly glance at you, face twitching up into a charming smirk.

Your apartment complex soon came to view, his car sloppily parking in front of it. You were about to step out as his hand stopped your antics, making you glance back at him in question.

His eyes were filled with pure devotion and honesty. "Thank you, Y/N. I could talk to you for hours."

Your eyes widened in surprise at the compliment, causing you to return him a loving smile. You leaned forward towards him, and before he could question your action, you placed a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving him dumbfounded.

"I'm the one who needs to thank you, really. Good night Reo."

As he watched your figure disappear into the night, he touched his cheek where once your lips were for a brief second, recalling the moment in his head like a love struck teenager.

How could a simple kiss on the cheek leave him in such condition? Who really are you? He would have to find that out the next time the both of you meet.

He will make sure to make this date the best one of your life, and Reo will win you over. He had too. Because at this point, he was already yours without you even knowing.

ᵃˡˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ k-azus.°

[galway-girlatwork]

Say Something

Fandom: The Mandalorian-This is a very modern AU

Rating: Mature-There is angst. 

Central Characters: Din and Eve (Original Female Character)

Central Relationship: Din and Eve

Word Count: 1,887

AO3

Please do not copy my work. If you liked it, please re-blog and tag me. Please do not steal my mood board. Stealing is just WRONG. I do not give permission to copy, translate, or post my work to any other platform.

This is for Jo’s DEAR-UARY-A new epistolary writing challenge. 

Eve is in italic. Din is in bold.

Jo, I had a fun and interesting time writing this. Thanks for letting me take part. MUHA

Music Inspiration:

Say Something-A Great Big World

You-The Pretty Reckless

Helium-Sia

Summary:

Eve’s career has always taken a back seat to Din’s. The goal was always she would start working more on her music when he graduated law school and worked for one year at a law firm. Now both of their careers are taking off but where she’s always been there for him, Eve is finding that Din isn’t always there for her. Feeling forgotten, she now lives for her music. And Din forgets that marriage takes just as much work as a career.

It had been two weeks since they’d last exchanged words—two weeks of icy silence punctuated by the hollow sounds of routine. Her guitar sat untouched in the corner of their living room, strings gathering dust. Across the room, Din’s law books were stacked haphazardly, a stark contrast to his usual meticulous order, the house feeling like a museum of unresolved tension.

Their last fight had been explosive, her voice, usually melodic, had cracked with anger as she accused him of not supporting her. “It was the last concert of my first tour! You promised you’d be there. You didn’t even call to say you couldn’t make it.”

His excuse of a deposition running late was the last straw. She moved out of their bedroom and into the guest room. It felt like they were roommates instead of husband and wife. She was tired of the excuses, of feeling like everything they’d gone through at this point, meant nothing. They’d both worked so hard to be where they are but she felt like the only one reaping the rewards was him.

It had been little things up to this point…Forgotten diners, important dates that marked the year but this? This one hit just a little harder than all the rest. She’d finally gone on tour, her music such a driving force in her life, and he promised he would be at the very last show. But when she looked over to where he should have been, he wasn’t. The hurt coming through her voice as she squeezed eyes shut, just needing to finish and get off stage. When all was said and done, she ran to the wings, her assistant handing over her phone. Nothing. Not a text, a missed call…Absolutely nothing.

The argument they had was vicious and cruel. He of course took the lead on the cruel part. The minute she’d gotten home, she’d lashed out at him. He knew he was to blame for the anger and hurt she was feeling but she’d tossed out a comment about how he felt inferior to her now blossoming career and that was when he threw her past in her face. How when he met her, she was just a wanna be singing in dive bars, the vase she threw, missing him only by an inch. When she moved out of their bedroom, ignoring him and any attempt to have conversation, he felt like an outsider looking in. It had been his idea for counseling, wanting to fix what was broken. She had to know he still loved her, right?

The first session was a disaster, neither one of them speaking when asked what had started the discord in their marriage. After twenty minutes of silence, where breaths and pin drops could be heard, the counselor let them both know that they were being counterproductive. Well, no fucking shit, he thought. “If you can’t talk to each other, write to each other. Take turns. One day each. Be honest, but not cruel.” A single blank journal placed on the table between them.

The journal now laid on the coffee table, a blank canvas waiting for their words.

Day 1 – Eve

Din,

This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever fucking done. I don’t think that counselor knows shit about shit. I’ve only ever used journals for my music. So, I don’t even know where to start. How about I am fucking angry but I am more devastatingly hurt. That night was one of the most important of my life and you couldn’t even bother to show up.

I get it. Your work is demanding, important, something you’ve worked hard for, but I feel like I’m always competing with your job, and I always lose. That night, I needed you to see me, to hear me. Not as a musician, but as your wife. I wanted you to be proud of me for what I’ve accomplished since those days of being a “dive bar wanna be.”

Day 2 –Din

Eve,

I’m sorry. I know those words feel empty right now, but they’re true. I hate that I let you down. I was stuck in that deposition, and all I could think about was getting out in time to make it to your concert. But by the time I looked at the clock, it was too late. I didn’t call because I didn’t want to hear the disappointment in your voice. That’s no excuse, but it’s the truth.

I’m sorry for the dive bar comment. That was just cruel. I’ve never been jealous of your music. I’ve been proud. Okay maybe I’ve been a little jealous. Not of the music but of your talent. I’ve heard you singing not just in dive bars but in our kitchen, in your little make shift studio and have always been in awe of your talent.

Day 3 –Eve

Din,

Thank you for saying you’re sorry. But it’s not just about that one night. This has been building for a long time. I feel like I’m always fighting for a place in your life. You’re so good at what you do, and I’m proud of you, but sometimes I feel invisible. Do you even see me anymore?

Why didn’t you tell me? That you were jealous? I am not sure why you are. I’ve never done anything in the entire time we’ve been together that would make anyone jealous. I am just me, doing what I love, wanting to spend my life with someone I love.

Day 4 – Din

Eve,

I see you. God, do I see you. You’re brilliant, talented, everything I’m not. When you’re on stage, you light up in a way that takes my breath away. But sometimes, I feel like I’m the one who doesn’t fit into your life. Your world is so vibrant, so alive. I’m just…here, working late nights and missing all the moments that matter. I hate that I make you feel invisible when you’re the most important person in my life.

Day 5 –Eve

Din,

I never knew you felt that way. I thought you were indifferent. Thinking, “Oh there goes my wife, traveling everywhere.” Like it was no big deal that I was going to be gone for months, that you didn’t care what I did, where I was or who I was hanging out with.

Tour life is not glamorous. It’s boring as fuck. It’s tour buses, junk food, crappy hotel rooms. Until I am on stage, feeling the music pour outta me. That is when I wanted you to see me. I thought if you did, if you heard, you’d know. I miss you. I miss us.

Day 6 – Din

Eve,

I miss us too. I don’t know how we got to this point. Maybe this whole journal thing isn’t crap?

Day 7-Eve

No, it is crap. Total crap. Want to know why? Because we should be able to say these things to each other. But guess what? We’re not. Why? Because you are never fucking home. It’s fuckin two in the morning and where are you? At the office. Again. Why am I even here Din?

Day 8-Din

Eve,

I am sorry. Yea I know. I sound like a broken record. I wonder how much money you’d have if you had a dollar for every time I said that to you in the last five years. Eve I want to fix this but when I am home, you don’t talk to me. It’s like I am living with a stranger instead of the woman who used to watch horror movies with me. I can’t even remember the last time we did that.

Day 9-Eve

Din,

Maybe if you actually tried. I feel like you’ve given up. Is this where we say good-bye? Where we realize that it was a mistake and just stop? I am tired and I don’t want to live like this. It’s exhausting.

Day 10-Din

Don’t do this. Where are you? Please come home. I want to fix this but it sounds like you’ve already given up. Eve…Please

Day 11-Eve

Day 12-Din

Eve we’re supposed to be writing in this together. You’ve not been home in two days. Please baby. Where are you?

Day 13-Eve

Day 14-Din

Jesus fuck Eve. WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?!?!?!?!?

Day 15-Eve

Calm the fuck down. I was at the studio. I needed a break. Do you know how hard it is to be in the same house with someone who is supposed to be in love with you, but can��t even stand to look at you? Why should I be here Din? So you can torture me with your uncaring attitude? I’d rather pluck my eyes out with a fork.

Day 16-Din

Don’t be so dramatic Eve. I was worried. Is that what you think? That I don’t care? I do. Care I mean. Yes I do know. What you think it is easy to be in the same house with you and not want to just pin you down, kiss you senseless and tell you a hundred fucking times that I love you, that I’m sorry?

Day 17-Eve

Sex is not going to fix this.

Day 18-Din

Stubborn fucking brat. Where in that sentence did I say anything about sex? I miss kissing you.

Day 19-Eve

I miss kissing you too. I miss feeling you next to me. Din…How did we get here?

Day 20-Din

I don’t know baby. We’re both stubborn?

Day 21-Eve

Yes, I am stubborn and out there and maybe the music won’t be as successful as I want it to be but Din I need you to know that it is important to me. Just as your career is important to you. I’ve been here this whole time. We agreed that I could pursue music after one year of you at the firm. I just feel like you’re not here. I wanted to share it with you. Share the music and how much it drives me. I still love you but sometimes feel like you don’t want me.

Day 22-Din

I love you too. I want you more than you know. I will always want you Eve. I don’t always know the right words to say, but I can’t imagine a life without you. You’re my partner, my equal, I want to be better—not just for you, but with you. I’ll always fight for us.

Day 365-Eve

I can’t believe we kept at this for an entire year, especially since I was the one who said it was the stupidest and crappiest thing we could do. I love you.

Coming downstairs, he saw her sitting at the dining room table, closing the leather-bound journal. Looking over her shoulder, a sly wink given before she walked into the kitchen, he picked it up and read the last entry before rereading what had been written. Each entry was raw, honest, and sometimes painful, but they told the story of two people who refused to give up on each other.

Coffee in hand, she set both mugs on the table before sitting down. “Reading again?”

“Yeah.” Fingers encircled her wrist, pulling her up from the chair, dragging her body against his. Hands tunneling into thick blonde hair, lips brushing against hers. “I love you too.”

Tagging peeps:

@jolapeno @guiltyasdave @604to647 @ease-out-the-clutch @almostfoxglove @morallyinept

And of course @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

Love and hugs.

[cetaitlaverite]

We want to see baby ophelia meeting meatball for the first time!!!!! 🥰

your wish is my command!!! and i think this is everyone's formal introduction to baby ophelia so i hope you loooove ❤️❤️❤️

It took Rosie three trips to take everything into the house the day they came back from the hospital. Really, it could have only taken one, but the wares he was transporting were so precious to him that he wasn’t taking any chances.

As soon as the car was parked in the driveway and the engine was off, he was rushing around like he was trying to win a gold medal. His hands shook in their haste as he unlocked the front door of the house and he almost tripped over his own feet as he cleared all manner of things out of the route Freddie would take after him - Meatball’s toys, Meatball’s water bowl, Meatball himself. He cajoled Meatball into the kitchen, then shut the door to make sure he didn’t jump up at Freddie the moment he laid eyes on her, as was his way, after not seeing her for the five days she’d been in the hospital.

He deposited Freddie’s hospital bag on the coffee table and then sprinted back out into the autumn chill, wrenching open the passenger side door and carefully helping Freddie to transfer their newborn baby out of her arms and into his.

Freddie was giggling at him. “Rosie, my darling, you can slow down. We’re not going anywhere.”

“Just want my girls to be comfortable as soon as possible,” he replied, his eyes never deviating from the slow process of taking Ophelia into his arms and making sure she was settled, with her head supported against his bicep. Only once he was assured Ophelia was okay did he look up to give Freddie a smile, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “I’ll be back in a second, honey, don’t go anywhere.”

“Can’t get out of here without your help, darling,” Freddie reminded him with a grin.

Rosie laughed and promptly turned to deliver Ophelia into the house. She was asleep right now, lulled into slumber by the low rumbling of the car and her mother’s gentle cooing, so he lowered her gently down into the crib they’d set up in the living room, brushing a kiss against her forehead as he laid her down.

When he next hurried out to the car, Freddie was waiting patiently with her seatbelt undone and a pleasant smile on her face.

Rosie grinned when he saw her. “Sorry, honey,” he said, leaning down to take hold of her hips and help her out of the car. “That’s the last time you’re ever gonna come last, I promise.”

Freddie laughed, holding on tight to his biceps as he helped her stand. “Don’t worry about it, sweetness. There was no logical way that was going to work in any other order - though I do still think you could’ve done it all in one go.” She raised her eyebrows pointedly at him here.

When Rosie looked up from where he’d been watching her feet to make sure she was stable he found her smirking and rolled his eyes.

“You tell that to Meatball when he tries to mow you down,” he replied. “You’re the most precious thing in the entire world to me, honey, I’m not taking any chances.”

Freddie smiled and pecked a kiss on his lips for his sweetness - he was always so unbearably thoughtful it made her heart ache.

As soon as Rosie had gotten Freddie settled on the couch in the living room he was hurrying to lock the car, shut and lock the front door, and turn up the heating. From the linen closet he retrieved a blanket, which he promptly wrapped Freddie up in, then headed into the kitchen to boil the kettle and check on Meatball.

He’d been in there for all of five seconds before, above the din of a husky’s howling and a kettle’s boiling, the unmistakable crying of his daughter rang into the air from the living room.

“I’ve got it!” Rosie called before Freddie could try to push herself up from the couch.

“Just let Meatball in!” Freddie called back. “I’m sitting down, I’ll be fine! And I think Ophelia wants to say hi!”

Rosie turned to look down at Meatball and found him already looking up at him. He raised his eyebrows at him. “You gonna be gentle?” he asked.

Meatball’s head was tilted to one side, his ears pricked as he tried to understand. His eyes were wide and innocent, a trick he must have learned from Freddie as a foolproof way to get what she wanted.

“Rosie!” Freddie prompted, her grin audible in her voice.

Indulgently, Rosie sighed. He never had been able to say no to her. It was a sickness.

“Come on, then, buddy,” he said to Meatball, opening the kitchen door into the living room.

With a loud, excited bark, Meatball brushed past him, leaping up onto the couch and smothering Freddie in kisses. He licked her cheek and nosed into her hair, then dipped down and poked her stomach with his nose, likely noticing it was no longer housing a tiny baby-in-progress. Nonetheless, his excitement was unfaltering, and he barked once more as he sat upright and bounced in place, leaning in to lick Freddie’s cheek again.

“Hi, darling boy!” Freddie exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him. “I missed you!”

Rosie chuckled under his breath as he headed for the crib, reaching in and carefully taking his crying baby into his arms. Her face was all scrunched up, her eyes screwed shut, her hands in fists in her pale pink babygrow as she cried. Her feet kicked - a trait she’d inherited from Freddie, no doubt - and she turned her head from side to side as she fussed before Rosie cradled her to his chest.

“Look,” Freddie was saying to Meatball, pointing at Rosie and Ophelia, “we have someone for you to meet. But she’s very little, so you have to be gentle.”

Meatball was paying Rosie and Ophelia no mind, pressing his head into Freddie’s neck and leaning the entirety of his weight against her, demanding affection, as though he hadn’t been under the care of Rosie’s mother and sister for the past five days who showered him in no shortage of attention, treats, and gifts.

Freddie laughed.

Tentatively, Rosie came to sit on the edge of the couch, caressing Ophelia’s back and head and cooing to her softly. Her crying was quietening down, now, with the warmth and comfort of her father and the restored quiet of the room. He kissed her cheek and then the top of her head, then whispered to her about how loved she was already, and with one more kiss to the top of her head he glanced up to find both Freddie and Meatball watching him.

Freddie had stars in her eyes. “I love you so bad,” she said, smiling widely.

Rosie chuckled softly under his breath. “I love you too, honey.”

Meatball, finally, had noticed their new addition. He was watching her curiously as she shifted and squirmed in Rosie’s arms, his head tilting this way and that as he listened to every fussy sound she made.

Freddie pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “That’s Ophelia,” she told him softly, running her hands up and down his back. “Do you want to say hello?”

Warily, as though sensing the fragility of this unfamiliar creature, as though understanding his parents’ caution, Meatball leaned forward to smell the baby.

Rosie lowered her from his chest until she was lying along his forearms, holding her out so Meatball could see and smell her properly. Both his and Freddie’s eyes were keen on the interaction, making sure nothing went awry, but they needn’t have been; Meatball only wanted to sniff. And when he accidentally got too close and his nose brushed against Ophelia’s stomach, he pulled back immediately, as though she’d given him an electric shock.

Ophelia peeled open her eyes, bright blue like her father’s, and she smiled when she noticed the dog looking down at her, the first time she’d ever seen a creature that wasn’t a human being. She let out a high-pitched, excited little giggle, reaching out a hand for Meatball’s nose, and Rosie grinned at the dimples popping out in her cheeks, Freddie’s dimples, the first thing he’d noticed when he’d first laid eyes on her.

Meatball let Ophelia wrap her tiny hand around his nose, sitting there still and dutiful even as she tugged on it. He let her squeeze and poke and pull and, after a moment, he nudged his nose into her hand and she laughed brightly once again.

From Meatball’s other side, Freddie sniffled. “Oh my god,” she said, shaking her head and rubbing at her eyes, “why am I crying?”

Rosie laughed but before he could say anything in reply the interaction went south. Ophelia, no longer satisfied with manhandling Meatball’s nose, reached out, fingers splayed, for his eyes.

Freddie swooped in and grabbed hold of her tiny wrists before she could make contact. “Okay, nevermind,” she said.

Rosie tipped his head back as he laughed, bringing Ophelia back into his chest where she was a safe distance away from an oblivious Meatball. 

“And to think,” Freddie said, smirking, “you were worried that Meatball wasn’t going to be gentle.”

Rolling his eyes, Rosie opted not to dignify that with a response. His attention was quickly diverted, anyway, back towards his daughter; even now that she was safely tucked up against him once more, her head was still turned, her eyes on Meatball, her mouth agape and dribble leaking down her chin as she stared at him.

Meatball stared right back.

Giggling, Freddie looked between the pair before meeting Rosie’s eyes. He smiled at the pure adoration he found there, the infatuation and enchantment with this family they’d created.

Ophelia reached an arm out to grasp for Meatball one more time and Rosie laughed. “I think they’re gonna be best friends,” he told Freddie, meeting her eyes with a grin.

Freddie laughed, taking hold of Ophelia’s outstretched hand and leaning down to press a kiss to the back of it. “Oh, yeah,” she agreed. “These two are going to cause a lot of trouble together.”