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I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 22
Chapter 22 out of 50
Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.
In this chapter, Buck is completely blindsided by Eddie’s sudden request to divorce. In an attempt to talk about it, they end up fighting, which makes the possibility of a divorce only more looming.
On AO3.
Ships: Buddie (slow burn)
Warnings: referenced emotionally abusive parents, insecurity
~~~
Chapter 22: Till Divorce Do Us Part
Buck nearly drops the glass he’s washing at Eddie’s words. Scrambling for a moment, before he squeaks out: “What?”
“I think we should get divorced,” Eddie repeats those horrible words, staring down intently at the dishes he’s drying instead of Buck.
“Uhm, why- wha- what brought this on?” Buck stutters, trying to be casual and failing. He can’t show how much this crushes him, can’t let Eddie know how much he wants him to stay.
Internally he is quickly combing through the past few weeks to see if he can come up with the answer himself. To see if he should have seen this coming.
With Carla in the picture things have been going better, but he didn’t realize it was ‘Buck can be replaced’-going-better. Eddie never said anything to indicate that would be the case.
Besides, financially it would be difficult to maintain Chris’s new school – which he loves – and Carla, not to mention their mortgage. So that doesn’t make sense. Though it is possible, a treacherous voice in the back of his head tells him.
He missed the school tour and Halloween, but he couldn’t do anything about it. Eddie personally tried to get him off for Halloween, he knew it hadn’t been on Buck. Is that he thinks that if he can do that alone, he can do it all alone?
It would make sense, but Eddie involved him, right? He helped prep for Buck’s tour, hell, Buck toured the school. He is registered there. Is Eddie immediately going to change that now that Chris is in? Was it just to present a more stable life to the school to get Chris in?
No, that doesn’t feel like Eddie. Eddie is kind and good, even if he’s a bitch sometimes. He pep talked Buck about getting to be there for Chris. That can’t be it. He understood.
Oh god, he must have met someone. They’d always said they would just divorce once other people got into the picture, it has always been nothing more than a marriage of convenience, not a lifelong commitment. The reminder leaves a foul taste in his mouth and he can’t help the jealousy at whatever mystery woman Eddie met. One he didn’t share anything about, he might add, even if he’s now divorcing him over her.
Not wanting Eddie to break it to him, he quickly continues talking before Eddie can. “Oh, of course, my bad. Why didn’t you say? What’s her name?”
“Maddie.”
Wait what?
“Excuse me,” Buck coughs, choking on his own spit.
Next to him Eddie flushes a brilliant shade of red, which Buck would have been able to appreciate more, were he not in the middle of getting his heart broken. Even though he really shouldn’t. Eddie has never been into him, he always knew that, but it truly felt like they were in this together, like this was a commitment on both their parts. Yet here he is.
Though, he never thought it would be Maddie. Maybe this girl Eddie met just happens to share the name or something?
He gets distracted by Eddie’s strong hand slapping him on the back until he stops coughing. His face concerned, though turns back into something horridly, awkwardly uncomfortable once Buck starts breathing normally again. It would be funny, if the circumstances were different.
“Not like that,” Eddie says and Buck can’t help but be relieved, because while he knows jealousy isn’t cool, he knows he will be insanely jealous of the woman that will quite literally snatch his husband away from him.
To cover for his relief, he hides the happy note in his voice by joking: “Good, cause otherwise Chim might kick you.”
“Shut up,” Eddie groans, still very much embarrassed, but at least not as tense anymore. “I’m trying to be nice.”
“By suddenly ambushing me with a divorce?” Buck counters, cringing when it sounds a little too raw, too accusatorial.
Eddie doesn’t meet his eyes. He hasn’t really for the entire conversation. He just stares at the drying rack and picks up a plate, angrily drying it in silence. Buck desperately wants to fill the silence like he so often does, chattering for the sake of chattering. Eddie likes it when he babbles, said so himself when he came home after touring the school.
Home… like he soon might not have anymore, because of Maddie? Because Eddie thinks divorcing him is being nice? He’s so confused and a little hurt. It’s enough to give him the patience to wait Eddie out.
Sure enough, a minute or so later, Eddie breaks. “I just don’t want you to miss out on time with your family because of me.”
The failed attempt to tell Maddie three days prior comes back to him, but he never guessed that this is what Eddie would take from it. That now that Maddie is here, Buck would rather want to spend with her than with Eddie and Chris. That he has real family to spend time with now, because this was never his family to begin with, no matter how much house they played.
“Is this about Christmas?” he asks. “I can still try and see if Maddie wants to spend it with me, so you can enjoy it with Chris and tía Pepa.”
“What?” Eddie frowns.
“If you don’t want me at Christmas so you can have one with only family, you can just say that. I get it,” he says, feeling the bile in his throat.
Eddie whips around so fast he startles Buck a little. For the first time he looks at him, eyes burning fiercely. “What the fuck are you on about, Buck? It won’t be only family without you there.”
Despite the bit of warmth bubbling up in his chest, he can’t help but feel like Eddie is merely saying it because he has too. An obligatory inclusion only done out of guilt. Now it’s his turn to look away, as he quietly says: “We’re a marriage of convenience based on very convoluted circumstances. It’s okay to not want to include me.”
“No. Just no. Fuck that, Buck. You raised Chris, practically more than me. We do our taxes together, we do chores together, Abuela gives you secret family recipes. You’ve been here through more shit than anyone else, of course you’re family,” Eddie explodes.
“Well, divorcing me isn’t really sending that message,” Buck yells back, knowing it is too much, but unable to keep the hurt to himself.
“I’m trying to help you,” Eddie argues.
“It’s not working, Eddie,” Buck retorts, more desperate than angry.
“Maybe it would if you weren’t so incredibly stubborn, Evan,” Eddie says, the words hitting Buck harder than any punch would have.
Eddie might be used to people who argue back; Shannon, his parents, tía Pepa. But Buck isn’t an arguing person, not really. He can get angry and argue, but he rarely does. Prefers not to. However, the ‘Evan’ is too much. It doesn’t sound like how Eddie used to say it, he sounds like Buck’s parents.
He can feel himself shutting down and he puts the sponge on the counter before he says: “No. I am not doing this. I’m not fighting with you and you’re not calling me Evan.”
His voice is calm, but it’s not because he’s no longer upset, it’s just that his emotions have taken a vacation, because that is the only way he’s getting through this situation. With one last look at Eddie’s face – who looks devastated, a fact that would probably do something to Buck were he not feeling the way he is – he turns on his heel and walks out of the kitchen and to his room.
The door closes behind him with a definitive click and Buck just stands in his room for a moment. Today has not been what he expected when he climbed into bed this morning after his shift. His bed is still unmade, civvies still littering the floor. His room looks lived in. Loved. He can’t imagine not waking up here with the Diazes down the hall.
Mechanically he makes his bed and puts the clothes on the chair or in the laundry respectively, his body slowly becoming his own again.
Meanwhile in the kitchen Eddie is staring at the door through which Buck just disappeared, dishtowel still in his hand. He can’t believe he just did that.
He is trying so hard to make life easier for Buck and all he did was cause more problems. It’s seemingly the only thing he’s good at. Buck deserves so much better than his bullshit, but he can’t even give the guy his freedom back without fucking it all up.
Eddie should have known better. Buck never argues, doesn’t like fighting with people. He doesn’t even like it when others fight around him. The only times Eddie truly seen him angry and act on it, is with Eddie’s parents and that is only when they truly pushed too far. So to fight with him? To throw his name in his face like that after all he knows about him? That’s practically unforgivable.
He has to make this right.
Making the bed and putting his clothes away makes Buck feel better. He has settled down back in himself and calmed down enough to replay the conversation. What Eddie said didn’t make him feel great and he hates the idea of getting divorced, but it’s what they always said they’d do. He can’t not hear Eddie out, because he doesn’t want it to happen. That’s not fair on Eddie.
Still, he wonders what sort of divorce Eddie will suggest. If Buck will get to help with Chris as much as Eddie always promised or if Eddie’s solo success will make it that Buck will get a smaller role in Chris’s life.
Buck really doesn’t want to hear it. But he has to. He tries to comfort himself with the fact that Eddie seems to genuinely think it’s in his best interest. It’s not malicious, he should maybe hear Eddie out. If he isn’t still angry.
As if summoned, there is a soft knock on his door. Immediately his nerves start up again, but his resolve also hardens. He doesn’t want Chris to come home in a house where he’s fighting, he never wants that for Chris. So he calls out: “Yeah?”
“Uhm, ‘m sorry,” Eddie says, the words a little muffled. He’s never been great at them when it isn’t his female relatives, so the fact that he’s saying those words to him at all is kind of touching. “Can- Can I come in?”
“Are you going to yell at me again?” Buck asks, not in the mood to be yelled at more in his room, because that means he can’t run to his room. He might be too forgiving sometimes, but he’s not completely stupid.
“No, no, I shouldn’t have yelled at all,” Eddie answers embarrassed.
“Then you can come in.”
The door is opened carefully and Eddie pokes his head in first, scanning the room and Buck to see if anything is out of place. If there is a threat. It’s a little heartbreaking and a little sweet at the same time.
“Wanna sit?” Buck asks, gesturing to his bed and very much trying to stop his brain from playing connect the dots between Eddie on his bed and other things that can be done on a bed.
Eddie nods, sitting down and looking around Buck’s room. Buck sits next to him, but Eddie doesn’t look at him. He’s used to the quirk and doesn’t take offense, instead waiting Eddie out again. It is clear he has something to say, he just doesn’t know how or is too uncomfortable to say it yet.
“Sorry,” Eddie finally says after a long silence. Two sorries, practically a record out of Eddie.
“It’s okay,” Buck says with a small smile, knocking their shoulders together.
“No, it’s not,” Eddie says, the indigence on Buck’s behalf apparently enough to help him over his discomfort. “I was a dick and you didn’t deserve that. You shouldn’t just forgive me like that.”
“Eddie, what good will it do to stay mad?” Buck states, sternly yet gentle, leveling a look at Eddie as he does.
“I don’t know? Boundaries or something?”
“God, you’re so clueless it’s sad,” Buck snorts, earning a glare. To clarify, he adds: “I can stay mad at you, but then we’ll just be fighting. Us fighting makes me sad. You’re obviously sorry and you didn’t mean it, I don’t need more than that. I’d rather just hear what you wanted to say, before it became a fight.”
“I was telling you that you’re family,” Eddie reminds him, suddenly keen to jump on the change in topic. “I thought you knew you were.”
Buck thinks the sad, kicked puppy vibe Eddie has going on now is worse than when he was mad at him. He can feel his own cheeks darken anyway, because Eddie is including him in family. Under no uncertain terms no less. It’s more than he ever dares to hope for, even if he dreams of so much more.
Timidly he confesses: “I mean, I did. I do. You- you just told me to enjoy time with family, as if I don’t do that every day. It got to me.” He looks Eddie in the eye when he says that and can see the guilt in them as the realization dawns on him.
“That’s not what I meant, at all.”
“Then what did you mean?”
“I just- I- ugh,” Eddie groans in frustration. “You’re always doing things for me. Always helping me, us.”
“I like helping out and it’s more just doing my part, we’re partners, remember?” Maybe it’s good to remind him of that, maybe that will make it so he’ll soften the blow.
“You shouldn’t have to lie to your sister.”
“And divorcing her will solve that problem how?” Buck asks, now more confused than anything. It is clear that Eddie feels guilty about something, but Buck can’t imagine what. He’s always happily been here, Eddie knows that, right?
At least that might mean he isn’t trying to get rid of Buck now that he can do it solo? Maybe he feels bad that Buck doesn’t have the support of family like he has and wants to try and fix that for him.
Not that Buck calls what Eddie’s family does support (except for Pepa and Abuela). I mean, his parents outright hate all his choices and his sisters aren’t involved in his life enough to have much of an opinion and most of the extended family is either purposefully left in the dark or a little shitty about it too.
Still, it’s sweet that he’s trying, makes Buck feel better about the whole divorce thing, but he doesn’t get how that will help.
Eddie actually perks up slightly as he gets prompted to explain his thought process. It would be kind of adorable, except he is going to explain why divorce is a good option. Now, Buck always knew this marriage would end in divorce, but he’s still going to cling to it, cling to this life he has. It is mildly pathetic, but he doesn’t care. If Eddie can be reasoned out of it, Buck is going to reason to all hell.
“Well, if we get divorced, we won’t be married anymore, thus not breaking any rules. We can say we were already in the process when I started that’s why we didn’t tell anyone. They’ll probably understand and then you can tell Maddie without worrying about her having to keep it from Chimney or us having to worry about her telling him.”
Buck isn’t sure if it’s because he wants this marriage to work for as long as possible or if Eddie just didn’t have time to think it all through, but he can’t help but immediately poke holes in it.
“How will that change anything? We’ll still be written up by HR for not saying, probably separated over it and that is if we don’t lose our jobs. We still lied, Eddie And we’d probably still be a risk, because we’d be raising Chris together. I’d have to check, but it won’t surprise me. Then were will we be at?”
Eddie is quiet, frowning slightly.
When he doesn’t say something, Buck answers his own question: “If we lose our jobs, we won’t be able to afford Carla, we might have to sell the house, and Chris will have to stop at Durand when he just found his place there. Let’s face it, we’re in too deep to ever tell the 118, if I want to tell Maddie, she has to keep it from people.”
At his words Eddie’s frown only deepens and Buck realizes he just told Eddie he’s stuck in this marriage. As much as he wants to be with him, he doesn’t want it because Eddie feels trapped, because Buck wormed his way into a life that was never his to begin with and did what he always did: make himself necessary, so he wouldn’t be abandoned.
“Look,” he starts again, this time more gentle, “if you find someone or you don’t want to do this anymore, we can get divorced behind the scenes. We’ll figure out custody and a schedule so Chris won’t lose a parent again, I promise. But divorce won’t change this thing with Maddie.”
It’s quiet and this time Buck lets it be quiet. Eddie is processing his words and figuring out what he feels about it, that’s no easy task.
After some time, Eddie throws up his hands and – dare he say it – pouts: “It just feels unfair.”
“What does?” Buck asks, a little amused by Eddie’s reaction. And because said reaction makes it seem like Eddie is seeing his side and not divorcing him. Big win for Buck.
“I get to talk about Chris at work, get to take time off to spend it with him, I get to tell family and not worry, and you don’t. It’s unfair,” Eddie exclaims, once again angry on Buck’s behalf, but not directing said anger at Buck. That makes it funny and touching, instead of hurtful. A world of difference.
“It does kind of suck,” Buck admits, because it does. He loves Chris to death, loves his family, he would love nothing more than to brag about it.
But maybe it is for the best, because he’s pretty sure everyone will realize he’s madly in love with Eddie the second he gets to take the mask off and that will mean Eddie will find out about it, because the 118 is horrible at staying out of each other’s business, and then Eddie will run far away from him and break his heart, because Buck isn’t meant to be in love with him. This is a platonic marriage. Platonic.
“See!” Eddie says, vindicated. “We should fix that.”
“As much as I am usually pro-fixing things, this isn’t something that needs to be fixed,” Buck says quickly, before Eddie can take it and run with it.
“It isn’t?” Eddie doesn’t believe it for a second.
“I mean, it would be nice, but it’s not the end of the world. I still get to be Chris’s papi and trust me when I say I brag in those pick up lines at school. Besides, the school interview was an off day, I’m usually better at charming my way into a shift swap. I won’t miss everything. Plus, I am so going to kick you off the science fair team, that’ll be my show.”
Eddie can’t believe how unreal this man is. That he’ll turn anything into a positive, that he sees helping Chris with a science fair project as something fun, instead of a chore. “Thank you.”
“For what?” Buck asks, confused.
“For just being here.”
“Of course I’ll be here,” Buck smiles and it sounds like a promise.
Eddie desperately wants to cling to it, because despite asking for a divorce like an hour ago, he doesn’t want Buck to leave. His own papi always left, his mom turned against him, Shannon left, Abuela was forced to move, army buddies slipped through his fingers. He’s always been on his own, but Buck never left, never made Eddie feel like he wouldn’t be in his corner. He doesn’t want to lose that.
“Me too,” is what he ends up saying, because anything else feels too much like rolling over and showing the soft underside of his belly. He hates doing that.
Still when Buck smiles, it feels like it’s enough. Buck always makes him feel like he’s doing enough.
Buck is over the moon with the promise, the promise that Eddie won’t just leave him like everyone else always seems to do. However, he needs to make sure they’re actually on the same page, so he bumps their shoulders together and asks: “So, are we good? Or do I need to find a lawyer?”
“Nah, we’re good,” Eddie says. Then he clears his throat, obviously done with the emotional talks for today as he asks: “We still have some time before pick up, wanna play some video games?”
“Hell yeah, I’ll kick your ass any day,” Buck grins.
“Bold words for a man, who always loses.”
“You let us play Rainbow Road and we’ll see if you still say that,” Buck bickers, as they get up and make their way to the living room.
Slowly the normal atmosphere returns again and you’d never think they’d just got close to a divorce or that they’d even argued.
Chris is happily oblivious as they pick him up together, just excited they’re getting ice cream and not asking why. Both watch him smear his face with chocolate ice cream fondly. He’s gotten his love for chocolate ice cream from Buck, who is licking his own cone, while Eddie eats his rum and raisin scoop. His actual favorite is citrus, but he never gets it. Buck knows though, he buys it ‘for himself’ sometimes and pretends he doesn’t see the scoops that go missing.
They both know it’s apology ice cream for Chris, who will never know how close they got to turning his life upside down an hour or two ago. It had been Eddie’s idea, the ice cream, and Buck wonders how long he’s going to do the silent guilty thing, where he doesn’t say anything, but tries to make up for something anyway. It always makes Buck feel a little weird.
Fortunately, he needn’t have worried, because after a week of Eddie cleaning obsessively and refilling his coffee like he’s a waiter trying to get a tip, they go back to normal.
It happens when they’re at work, Bobby makes a delicious casserole. Buck is enjoying it when he feels a nudge against his foot. He looks over to Eddie, who looks down at his plate, then at Buck with imploring eyes.
Fondness explodes inside his chest and he gives an indulgent eye roll, even if his insides feel gooey at the silent request, before he asks: “Hey, Bobby, can I get the recipe for this?” getting a triumphant grin from Eddie as he does.
Bobby explains the recipe, while Buck lets the casserole be, so Eddie can go in for seconds. The whole interaction settles something in his chest, finally letting himself believe that Eddie meant what he said during that day.
In a way, it’s been good for them. A kind of check in to see where they stand. They both have an out and both have assured the other they don’t want it.
Buck is still waiting for the day Eddie does, for the day he’ll come home from a date and know that this is the one. He knows his heart will break when he signs those divorce papers, but the knowledge that Eddie won’t just leave him, soothes the sting of that future.
Eddie, on the other hand, has been assured that Buck still wants to be here, that he doesn’t just want to run and isn’t waiting for the day Eddie will be able to do it by himself. They’re partners. A team. He doesn’t have to do it alone, Buck doesn’t expect him to. It’s not a chore to him.
So, they move on, both more secure in themselves as they work together as they’ve always done, while Christmas slowly approaches.
~~
A/N:
This is more communication Eddie has done than in all his years of life combined, but by god, Buck will have normal conversations with people and Eddie’s crush on Buck will make him do wild shit to get Buck to stay (even if he doesn’t know that’s why he’s doing it) ((I am manifesting this energy for Eddie in 8x09))
And yes, last chapter was a bit of a fake out, I fully enjoyed all the comments and felt very evil, made my week, thank you so much <3
Also shout out to Eddie for the giant brick wall he built his a brain and just doesn’t allow him to examine his feelings for Buck too deeply, like I know repression is one hell of a drug, but seriously? This is getting out of hand and I’m writing you!
#rr writing#secret marriage of convenience buddie au#the i do verse#9-1-1#9 1 1#9 1 1 show#9 1 1 fanfiction#9 1 1 buddie#911#911 show#911 fanfic#911 buddie#buddie#buck x eddie#evan buckley#eddie diaz#christopher diaz#buckley diaz family#bobby nash#tw: referenced emotional abuse#tw: insecurity#buddie au#slow burn#slow burn buddie au
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what if we replace fuck marry kill with hug adopt slap for underage characters. better version
How about hug, adopt, therapy? H.A.T for short
#write-it-motherfuckers#mod speaks#ask#asks#askbox#ask box#inbox#answer#answers#reply#response#tag meme#ask meme#meme#tag#tbh this is opening a can of worms#you have no idea how ridiculously long the list of kits I desperately wish to adopt is#my answers might just all turn into adopt adopt adopt#fmk#h.a.t
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If I Was a Worm
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: would you still love me if I was a worm?
Max leans back on the plush leather couch, his eyes fixed on the TV screen where a football match flickers. The living room is bathed in the warm glow of evening sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows. You’re curled up beside him, your head resting on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
“Max?” You murmur, breaking the comfortable silence.
He hums in response, his fingers idly playing with a strand of your hair. “What’s on your mind?”
You hesitate, biting your lip. The question that’s been nagging at you feels silly now that you’re about to voice it. But curiosity wins out. “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
Max’s hand stills. He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “A worm? Like, an actual worm?”
You nod, fighting back a smile at his bewildered expression.
He lets out a short laugh. “Where did that come from?”
“Just answer the question,” you insist, poking his side playfully.
Max runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to process this unexpected turn in conversation. “I mean ... I guess? But why would you be a worm?”
You shrug, sitting up to face him properly. “It’s hypothetical, Max. Just go with it.”
He sighs, a mix of amusement and exasperation in his eyes. “Alright, fine. If you were a worm, I’d ... I’d buy you the best soil? Make sure you had plenty of leaves to eat?”
You can’t help but giggle at his attempt. “That’s sweet, but not quite what I meant.”
Max groans, throwing his head back against the couch. “I don’t know how to love a worm! What do worms even do?”
“They wiggle,” you offer helpfully, demonstrating with a wave of your hand.
He captures your wiggling hand in his, intertwining your fingers. “Okay, so you’d wiggle. And I’d ... watch you wiggle?”
You burst out laughing at the absurdity of it all. Max joins in, the tension in his shoulders easing as he pulls you closer.
“I’m serious though,” you say once the laughter subsides. “Would you still love me? Even if I wasn’t ... me anymore?”
Max’s expression softens, his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. “Is that what this is really about? You’re worried I wouldn’t love you if you changed?”
You nod, suddenly feeling vulnerable. “I know it’s silly ...”
“Hey,” Max says gently, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “It’s not silly. And to answer your question: yes, I’d still love you. Worm or not.”
“Even if I couldn’t talk to you anymore? Or hug you? Or do any of the things we do together?”
Max is quiet for a moment, considering. “I think ... I think love isn’t just about what someone can do for you. It’s about who they are, their essence. And that wouldn’t change, even if you were a worm.”
You feel a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “That’s ... actually really profound, Max.”
He grins, a hint of pride in his eyes. “I have my moments.”
“So you’d be okay with having a worm girlfriend?” You tease, lightening the mood.
Max laughs, shaking his head. “I mean, it would definitely make my life interesting. Imagine trying to explain that to the press.”
You adopt a mock-serious tone. “Max, is it true that your girlfriend is now a invertebrate?’“
He plays along, mimicking his media voice. “Yes, it’s true. But I can assure you, she’s the most beautiful earthworm you’ve ever seen.”
You both dissolve into giggles, the earlier tension completely dissipated.
“Seriously though,” Max says once you’ve caught your breath. “Where did this worm thing come from?”
You shrug, a bit embarrassed now. “I don’t know. I was just thinking about how much our lives have changed since we got together. And how they might keep changing. I guess I wanted to know if there was a limit to ... us.”
Max’s expression turns thoughtful. “I get that. Our lives are pretty crazy sometimes.”
“Understatement of the year,” you mutter.
He chuckles. “Fair enough. But you know, through all the craziness, you’re my constant. My home base. That wouldn’t change, even if you grew an exoskeleton.”
You raise an eyebrow playfully. “Worms don’t have exoskeletons.”
“Same difference,” Max says with a dismissive wave. “The point is, I love you. All of you. Not just the parts that are convenient or easy.”
You feel a lump forming in your throat, touched by his sincerity. “Even the parts that ask weird hypothetical questions?”
“Especially those parts,” he assures you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “They keep me on my toes.”
You snuggle closer to him, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “Thank you for humoring me.”
“Always,” Max murmurs. “Though I have to ask ... why a worm? Why not like, a cat or something?”
You laugh. “I don’t know. It just popped into my head. Plus, a cat would be too easy. You already like cats.”
“True,” he concedes. “But at least a cat could watch races with me. What would a worm do all day?”
You pretend to consider this seriously. “Worm things. Soil aeration. Composting.”
Max nods solemnly. “Ah yes, very important worm business.”
“Hey, don’t mock my hypothetical worm life,” you protest, poking his chest. “I’d be a very accomplished worm, I’ll have you know.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t dare question your worm credentials.”
You both fall silent for a moment, the absurdity of the conversation sinking in.
“We’re ridiculous, aren’t we?” You say finally, unable to keep the smile off your face.
Max grins. “Completely. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
You lean in to kiss him, feeling a rush of affection for this man who can make even the silliest conversations feel meaningful.
As you pull away, Max’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “You know, if you really want to be a worm, I could always bury you in the garden ...”
You gasp in mock outrage. “Max Verstappen, don’t you dare!”
He laughs, pulling you closer. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Though it might be fun to see you wiggle ...”
You swat his arm playfully. “Keep it up and you’ll be the one sleeping in the garden tonight.”
Max’s expression turns serious, though there’s still a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You know, all this worm talk has got me thinking ...”
“Oh?” You say, curious about where he’s going with this.
He nods, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah. I’ve realized something important.”
You wait, eyebrow raised expectantly.
“If you were a worm,” Max says slowly, building suspense, “you’d be the prettiest worm in the world.”
You groan, burying your face in his chest to muffle your laughter. “That was terrible.”
“But true,” he insists, chuckling. “You’d leave all the other worms in the dust. Or ... soil, I guess.”
You look up at him, shaking your head fondly. “You’re impossible.”
“You love it,” Max says confidently.
And as you gaze into his warm, playful eyes, you can’t deny it. You do love it. You love him, in all his goofy, sweet, sometimes infuriating glory.
“Yeah,” you admit softly. “I really do.”
Max’s expression softens, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. “And I love you. Worm or human or anything in between.”
You lean into his touch, feeling a deep sense of contentment wash over you. “Promise?”
“Promise,” he says firmly. “Though I have to admit, I’m pretty fond of this current version of you.”
You smile, your earlier insecurities fading away in the warmth of his gaze. “Me too. I think I’ll stick with being human for now.”
“Good choice,” Max murmurs, pulling you in for another kiss. “Though I bet you’d make a cute worm.”
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#max verstappen#mv1#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#max verstappen x female reader#max verstappen x y/n#red bull racing#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen drabble
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ALMOST CAUGHT | Oscar Piastri
f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | requests or let's talk!
oscar piastri x gf!reader
word count: 1151
summary: oscar and his gf get a little bit horny, but they need to do things quick before someone catch them having sex
warnings: +18, smut (p in v, protected sex), dom!oscar, risk of getting caught
a/n: idk how this turned out because i don't think i'm good writing smut. however, i'll try to improve! feedback is appreciated, as well as reblogs <3
© VETTELSVEE (2024). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
You were lying on the sofa, in your living room, watching a movie as your family had gone shopping at the local mall. Oscar wasn't there either because he had taken Blueberry, the puppy you both recently adopted, for a walk. You had decided not to go because you weren't feeling well. Nevertheless, you were lying on that sofa, eating M&M's and watching a Turkish TV show out of sheer boredom, where the newlywed couple protagonists argued about who would do the shopping.
"When will you be back, Piastri?"
Just as you were thinking about that, Oscar sent you a video of himself and your pet along with a message:
"I might have a little surprise for my girl :)"
You didn't know what he meant, so you asked him what for. Minutes later, he replied that he was saying nothing until the correct moment. Despite your desperation to know what the Australian man had planned, you resisted the urge to keep asking him.
You fell asleep and didn't even realize it, so it was the sound of the front door opening that woke you up. Then, you noticed how small but quick steps were moving back and forth. Alongside them, larger steps slowly approached the couch where you lay.
"Hello, love," you composed yourself a bit from sleep and noticed it was Oscar. "Are you okay?"
"What... what time is it?" you asked curiously. You had completely lost track of time, and you didn't know when you had fallen asleep or how much time had passed since then.
"It's eight twenty-five," the brown-eyed guy replied with a smile.
You noticed he kept smiling, so you kissed him. It was a short but passionate kiss, in which both of you realized that every day you were more in love.
"And what's that about?" Oscar smiled again and positioned himself on top of you, while you couldn't stop telling yourself that he was perfect for you and wondering what you had done to deserve him.
"I'm waiting for the surprise you were going to give me."
You were giving him a too enticing look, and slowly he was starting to get aroused. He wanted to have sex, just like you, and both of you knew each other's thoughts as if they were your own.
"You'll have to wait, darling, but I think we can do something else while you wait."
As soon as Oscar answered, he began kissing you, something that as it progressed became faster and more desperate. You followed along with your tongue, but you were worried that your parents and siblings might appear at any moment.
You decided to stop. Or at least try to.
"Oscar…," no matter what you said, he kept kissing you, now going all the way down on your neck, making you release small moans every time you spoke. "Piastri..., stop..."
Seeing that he wasn't going to stop, you forgot about the possibility of your family catching you having sex and that became the least of your concerns.
With a quick change of position, now you were the one on top of your boyfriend, making movements to further provoke his excitement. Meanwhile, he began to remove your shirt, leaving only a pink bra with blue teddy bears exposed. You knew that wasn't the best attire for situations like the one unfolding, but at that moment you didn't care because there was enough trust - besides, there would be other moments to wear better lingerie.
His kisses trailed down your neck again, but with the main difference this time being that he was leaving marks. You removed his sweater, but it wasn't enough for you: you wanted more, so you didn't hesitate to unbutton his pants, struggling a bit to take them off.
You immediately started playing with the waistband of his boxers, and both of you felt the nervousness growing, although you didn't pay much attention to it. In the end, it wasn't the first time you risked getting caught, and to be honest, you got very horny at that thought.
He removed your pants just as you had done to him earlier, taking the opportunity to position himself on top of you. You knew it was about to begin when he took a condom from his pocket.
You were eager for him, so you removed his underwear, leaving him completely naked, while you remained in your underwear.
"This can't keep going on like this, babe..." the boy said, eager to enter you.
He started removing your bra, immediately moving down between your legs, where he began to touch over your underwear before taking it off.
"Oscar..." you moaned once again.
"For God's sake, shut up already," he demanded, which only aroused you more. "I need you to stay calm, not acting like a desperate whore. I thought you were better than that."
At his words, you got absolutely in shock, but in some way it turned you on hearing Oscar speak like that.
"Are you sure you want to do this? Will you stop acting so desperate if I enter you this quick? With no previous games and…"
"Of course. You better shut up now and start fucking me," you interrupted him, answering without hesitation.
Once again, and as if he didn’t kiss you on the forehead and began to insert himself into you.
At first, he was going slow, but as the minutes went by the speed increased. Unfortunately, you tried to control your moans, something that Oscar seemed to do perfectly just in case your parents arrived, but you couldn’t hold them. It was great, and you didn’t want it to end.
"Damn it, Oscar!" you screamed, but you still hadn't reached orgasm.
"Wow, I didn't know I was that good at sex," he said proudly, surprising you. "I thought you always faked your moans."
"Shut up and keep going," you answered with a voice slightly interrupted by Oscar’s moves. "I'm close."
A few minutes later, both of you were lying on the sofa, after cumming without much difficulty.
However, your post sex kisses and talk ended as soon as, after getting dressed, you saw you twins brothers standing next to the living room door, seeing you both in absolute shock.
"Come on, you gotta be kidding me!" Louis, one of the twins, yelled, while you kept signaling him to be quiet.
He started running up the stairs quickly and shouting without hesitation while Liam, your other brother, was sending a voice message to his best friend telling him that he caught his sister and her boyfriend having sex.
"I guess we won’t be having any more surprises at home for now, love," you said, seeing the commotion you had caused in a moment. "I hope they don’t tell my parents, because if they freak out…”
“We’ll freak out, I know,” Oscar said. “Really, I get it, Y/N. I guess I’ll have to take you to Disneyland to fuck you in one of those Marvel hotel rooms full of Spider-Man merch. Maybe we could try something with some kind of costume on and...”
“You’re taking me to Disneyland?!” you screamed, interrupting him fully surprised.
“I couldn’t keep it anymore so… surprise, babe? Any ideas on what I have just said to you?”
#formula 1#f1#oscar piastri#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#formula 1 x female reader#formula 1 x you#formula 1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#formula 1 smut#f1 smut#oscar piastri one shot#oscar piastrix y/n#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri smut#mclaren#oscar piastri fic#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#oscar piastri f1#oscar piastri x female reader#oscar piastri x you#op81 x reader#piastri
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I call this one "found family but it goes horribly wrong in an irreparable way" :)
I've been doing a lot of cotl comics but I kinda lost my comic making endurance after not working on art since last september, so I made this to help me flex my art muscles. Apologies for the watermarks lmao they kinda kill the mood but I've already had people repost my art when I put it on reddit so...might as well get the credit if my stuff is gonna be reposted regardless. RAMBLE INCOMING!!
Thinking about how shamura was most likely the one to find + raise their adopted siblings and help them survive the mass deicide that happened thousands of years before....OUUGH. I have so many ideas for comics that take place when half the bishops were still lil kids. I have one in progress right now actually. But it just hurts when I remember how it all ends- they loved their family for so long and yet they credit their love as what caused it to fall apart!!! The lore of the bishops only sunk in when I was dealing with my own heavy sibling angst, and I was like wow....shamura supported the sibs so much they accidentally encouraged their brother into being a heretic, and couldn't close pandora's box in time to save him or the rest of the family. They blame themself for the past 1,000 years and seem to be totally okay with dying for what they did?? Like when they get sent to the shadow realm they tell you to "finish the job" instead of leaving them in purgatory. And despite being the bishop of war, they are the only bishop to not have a "desperate" phase where their attacks get more brutal. They're not desperate, they just want to get it over with. All their other siblings are dead by then anyway so it's not like they have anything to stick around for, even if they were healthy enough to win the battle. Plus I mean...narinder is the bishop of death so they probably just want to see him one last time. Owch
Don't get me wrong I love to hate narinder and his only role in my cult is the guy who cleans the outhouse, but I really like his dynamic with shamura vs. the other siblings. I kinda see him as the troubled kid that couldn't assimilate into the family and shamura took it upon themself to try and fix him. It's interesting thinking about how they're the only one he shows remorse for despite feeling the most betrayed by them. I don't think he 100% hates them, he's just been locked in gay baby jail for so long he's had nothing better to think about than "my sibling encouraged me to experiment with my godly duties, and then punished me for it!!". He's not wrong? But also is shamura that wrong either??? Idk it's complicated with no real answer and I like it a lot, I wish the game told us more about what the bishops were like before they got their shit rocked during the schism. I would've loved to see shamura before their brain was turned to mush by their tbi + 1,000 years of suffocating grief and crushing guilt :)
ANYWAY thanks for making it to the bottom of this rant, here is a sketch I did a while ago of shamura + baby leshy from a prequel au thing I don't have a name for yet:
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They're Mates - with Y/N Pt 1
Summary - Feyre meets Rhys's Inner Circle and witnesses the strength of the mating bond.
Warnings - abusive family mentioned.
Other Notes - 1k words; Please note that most of these lines/plot points are inspired or directly quoted from ACOMAF; I originally posted this where Reader was given the name 'Vee' but am putting this one out for anyone who might prefer y/n.
Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four || They’re Mates Universe Masterlist
✨💫
Feyre looked up to see the same two males from earlier standing in the doorway, grinning, and a new presence. A beautiful female with wings like the others. She wore a deep blue gown that reached the floor––her hair resting over both her shoulders. The two males wore black leather with a sword strapped against their backs. Feyre noted the power each of them seemed to hold.
The male who was a bit large than the other, spoke up with a light chuckle. “We don’t bite. Unless you ask us to Feyre.”
The female shot him a pointed look. “Last time I checked, nobody wanted to take you up on that offer, Cassian.” The male who stood between the female and Cassian let out a light, short, laugh before whispering something into the female’s ear making her eyes twinkle subtly. Feyre watched as Cassian gave his own pointed look.
“No secrets in front of our guest, Az,” Cassian said with a grin.
The light danced across their faces allowing Feyre to observe their physical features for a moment. Similar to Rhysand, all three were dark-haired. Both males had tanned skin and hazel eyes. Feyre couldn’t quite tell the eye color of the female standing next to Az, but she gave off an air of beauty and power.
Cassian grinned again, looking Rhys and Feyre up and down. “You made poor Feyre dress up, brother,” he said before winking in her direction. His features were rough like someone had molded him, from the earth.
The second male was more classically beautiful, though hard to read. He was certainly the one who would be a surprise in the dark, the hidden knife. Feyre noticed the light sparkle in his eyes anytime he looked at the female to his left. It piqued a curiosity in Feyre.
Rhys said, “Azriel––my spymaster,” indicating the one in the middle. He then indicated the female. “Y/N. An emissary for the Night Court.” A name, Feyre later learned, Az had adopted for the emissary after she declared she did not want the name her abusive family had given her.
She immediately offered her hand with a warm smile. “Welcome, Feyre.” She gently squeezed Feyre’s hand before she quickly let go and Feyre does her best to not seem eager as she stepped back to stand next to the High Lord of the night Court, again.
“You’re brothers?” Feyre asked. The two males before her looked similar. The kind of similar where people who come from the same place do, not familial similar.
“All bastards are brothers in some sense,” Rhys responded, sticking his hands in his pockets.
Before Feyre could ask Cassian said, “And I command Rhys’s armies.”
Feyre nodded, shifting on her feet slightly before her eyes glanced to see Azriel taking another glance in the emissary’s direction. She looked right back with a smile that showed a clear fondness for the spymaster. The moment went as quickly as it came when Az turned his gaze to Feyre. “Cassian also excels at pissing everyone off. Especially amongst our friends. So, as a friend of Rhysand, good luck.”
Feyre was giving more attention to not being recognized as the girl Under the Mountain. She wondered, for just a moment if they knew––maybe they didn’t. That was quickly answered when Cassian nudged past the Night Court’s spymaster requiring Az to flare his wings to keep himself balanced. Feyre watched Y/N’s hand fall to Azriel’s lower back to assist. Feyre noticed the fleeting moment of eye contact between the spymaster and the emissary, but it quickly became a second thought as Cassian asked his question about how Feyre had made the bone ladder in the Middengard Wyrm’s lair, when as he put it, “you looked like your own bones could snap at any moment.”
Y/N shot Cassian another pointed gaze, but it turned into a grin after Feyre made a sarcastic comment of her own. The general laughed and Azriel’s eyebrow lifted with approval as the shadows swirled around him, tighter. Feyre’s need to understand the gift only furthered when the shadows swirled up and around Y/N’s wrist playfully, before weaving around the ends of her hair.
Her curiosity once again was pushed to the side when Feyre heard, thankfully, a familiar voice…Mor. “I hope Cassian’s howling means Feyre told him to shut his fat mouth.”
Y/N quickly whispered something into Az’s ear, his shadows lightened slightly from around him. Feyre’s curiosity about the nature of their relationship increasing.
“I don’t know why I forget you two are related,” Cassian told Mor, while glancing over at Rhys for just a moment. “You two and your clothing.” The High Lord rolled his eyes, but Feyre had her own focus on the emissary and the spymaster who were both standing in silence, stealing glances at each other.
“I wanted to impress Feyre. You could have tried to make an effort to comb your hair,” Mor responded.
Cassian braced his feet a little farther apart on the floor in a fighting stance Feyre recognized, perhaps too well. “Unlike some people, I have better things to do with my time than sit in front of the mirror for hours,” the general bit back.
“Yes,” Mor the said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “since swaggering around––”
“We have company,” Azriel said in a soft warning, spreading his wings as he tried to herd everyone.
“Relax, Az,” Mor said as she dodged the spymaster’s outstretched wing. “We won’t fight. We promised Rhys.”
Feyre barely noticed Az stop in his tracks, letting out the smallest of huff and his shadows seem to become thicker. She then watched as Y/N took one of Az’s hands in her own, gently pressing her lips to the back of it. His shadows lightened around him. Apparently the question about their relationship reached Feyre’s face because Rhys leaned down slightly to say, “They’re mates. Azriel and Y/N. They’ve known each other a little over 500 years and been mates just under 500.”
Feyre considered that fact, thinking there was something delicately beautiful about nearly 500 years of commitment between the two. Now she just had a few thousand more questions about the court’s spymaster and emissary. Question she decided were for another time as Mor indicated the empty seat beside her. Feyre knew the image of Az whispering into his mate’s ear and the twinkle in her eye would be etched into the back of her mind forever.
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel spymaster#acotar fanfiction#acotar#a court of thorns and roses#a court of mist and fury#acomaf#rhysand#feyre archeron#rhysand x feyre#cassian#morrigan#mor#3rd person pov
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Imagine having threesome with heehoon, like they both would tease you, and make you beg for their dicks. Tie you on the bed and fill your ass and cunt at the same time. Or cover your eyes with a blindfold and than fuck you one by one and ask you who is it? And when you tell them the wrong answer, they would go extra rough on you and make your body go numb and I can imagine them cursing alot while fucking you senselessly. Like "yeah, you like that slut. You like being railed by two dicks at the same time" "wrong answer whore, now get your ass up and be ready for the punishment"
RAH 🦅DONT EVEN because I love your brain rn.
Ngl i see Hoon and Hee as two different people in bed. Hoon seems like the kind of individual who would push you to your limits and make you feel inferior, 100% hard mean dom that punishes you even when you happen to laugh at a joke told by a guy other than him or Hee and then asking you if his joke really was funny or if you wanted to add a groupie to your roster. His behaviour could be seen as toxic in some situations but after fucking you dumb know he didn't mean a single word he said. Outside of the bedroom he really is an amazing and compassionate boyfie completely contrasting his wild and animalistic side in bed.
On the other hand, Hee comes across as someone who’s gentle with you, a soft dom if I do say so myself. He’d whisper gentle words of praise in your ear, cooing at you for taking him so well and for all the ways you'd let him have your body and mind. Now this might come out of nowhere but I must spread my heesub agenda. This man is such a switch, he’d be a soft dom in bed but the biggest brat known to man if you take control. And absolute menace because nothing beats the way your irritated brow twitched when he spoke back and he just lived when you took it out on him.
Now all of that mixed in with being in a poly relationship with these two? I don't know about you but I’m sold.
They would take turns using you one by one and revel in it. The hard thrusts of Hoon using you like a fleshlight, bruising your hips with his grip along with Hee whispering sweet nothings and telling you about how much of a good girl you are for taking him while sucking and playing with your tit would send you into overdrive, turning your mind into nothing but mush.
On most occasions things would happen the usual way as expected, the opposite parallels of your two boyfriends domming would never bore you so you couldn't complain much. However, there were some days when Heeseung's behaviour and demeanour would take a complete U-turn, surprising both you and Hoon, wondering where your sweet man went. He would align himself with Hoon's attitude, which was quite different from his usual self and he would adopt an entirely different attitude to how he treats you during sex. Same goes with hoon, there ware days where he sees your struggling and would take hours taking care of you whether it’d be eating you out until you couldn’t remember the issue or making love to you telling you how beautiful you’d look carrying his and seungie’s babies.
Back to sub hee, god when you three fuck but hee subs it’s like something straight out of porn. Moaning and whining as you play with his cock and balls teasing and edging him all whilst sunghoon fucks you in doggy like an animal in heat. Slurring degradation and praise towards you both. I’m convulsing.
I hope what you gathered from this is that their duality would be insane, I'm insane, i need them NOW.
#heeseung smut#heeseung drabbles#heeseung hard thoughts#heeseung hard hours#sunghoon hard thoughts#sunghoon hard hours#sunghoon smut#sunghoon drabbles#enhypen smut#heeseung x reader#lee heeseung x reader#sunghoon x reader#park sunghoon x reader#enhypen hard thoughts#enhypen hard hours#enhypen drabbles#enhypen x reader#from rinnie 💟
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Reading your Hamilton-inspired DPxDC posts gave me a wild thought to the tunes of "The Schuyler Sisters":
Redeemed Vlad being the Regent for Danny, and it's Jazz, Danny and Ellie out in town (Dan is the Army General and on duty today). Jazz looking incredibly bored, Ellie the bratty little sister with the zoomies, and Danny, the one who doesn't even bother looking the least bit regal. Like, Jazz and Ellie both look like princesses, and Danny is their commoner cousin or something.
It's important to me that you know I picture Danny, in Infinite Realms high society, as a sort of barbarian prince that walked into the court, refused to leave, and got adopted by the elderly Advisor (Clockwork) who's ruled in the lost king's stead with a sharp gaze and balanced hand.
Young people love him, because he's just as likely to watch you brawl it out on the streets, as he is to take off the cape and breastplate, roll up his sleeves, and immediately come in swinging.
That's how they bond, and why most of the Ghosts that came through the Fenton Portal were so eager to throw hands.
And here's the scene that my mind is very visibly picturing:
Jazz and Ellie in a Library, Jazz looking for books for her thesis in the Living World and Ellie picking up more comics. Danny's outside enjoying the nice spring-like breeze, and then Johnny 13 leans against the wall to flirt with him (I headcanon Danny as, in his 20's-30's having A Thing with Johnny and Kitty).
Full on, leaning against the wall, smirk and thumb on the chin flirting, while Danny barely looks like he's paying attention, just rolling his eyes and snorting at something Johnny says to him.
Probably asks him if Kitty even knows he's here...and she's right across the street, watching her idiot absolutely fail to rizz up the other idiot.
Now this is just me building up extra scenes from the previous bit:
Johnny getting the kicked puppy look when Danny slips away from him to go chat up Kitty instead. Like, absolute disaster of a man, his bad girl vibes girlfriend, and the twink who's known them for too long to fall for his charms. Like, to Danny, Johnny is just a little pathetic, and while he might eventually take pity on the guy and flirt back, the game is seeing how much of a fool Johnny likes to make of himself to make him snort and laugh.
To the townsfolk, their soap opera is watching their Darling Prince and how, unlike the stuffy Castle Town manners and double-speak, him and his Badlands friends tend to be very...physically intense and direct in their affections and romantic pursuits. Don't expect to see him receiving any poems or expensive gifts in the mail. No, you're more likely to find him out in town, probably at a bar he SHOULDN'T be in, acting all friendly with the more rough-and-tumble types, taking the friendly insults and answering in kind with the best of them.
Maybe getting handsy with the biker couple, and coming back all ruffled and smiling.
And it sends every court lady all abuzz with gossip and scandalized whispering. Until "Uncle Vlad" proves that this is just how they do things where they come from, by initiating the most cursed and mildly toxic situationship with Spectra. No one can stand seeing these two together. At least the Princeling looks fondly annoyed by the constant flirting of Johnny and Kitty, compared to the sleazy smirking his Regent and his intended always have for each other. Very Cruella de Vil x Lex Luthor vibes, while Danny has Aristocats vibes, Johnny and Kitty both playing Thomas O'Malley in turn.
This is where we could throw in DC.
By which, I mean Tim's Young Justice team find an old tome with a green sticky note shaped like a cog on it. And then you have Bart, Zoomies Personified, Conner yes-and'ing his bad choices, Cassie leaning back to watch this, and Tim pinching his nose, saying fuck it, and joining his friends in summoning a possibly-demon, but damn if the depictions in the book look handsome as fuck.
Plus, you know, he's titled as The Benevolent and Beloved Prince of the Realms. Skating right past the Dethroner of Tyrants and Champion of the Badlands titles. Those sound pretty heroic, right?
Right?
What Danny do they get?
Shirt ripped open, attractively battle-damaged Danny with a glass of ale in hand after yet another friendly brawl?
Decadent beauty dressed for a day out in town?
Danny mid-makeout oth Kitty and/or Johnny?
Personally, I wanna say this is a Danny who looks like he's maybe 28-29, using one of Kitty's tips he stole and Johnny's coat, lounging in fuzzy pyjama pants, being summoned while stressing about what his Thing will be whe he takes the throne.
Every King before had A Thing they did. The first King was a farmer, his successor was a hunter. Pariah, before his madness set in, raised horses (maybe Fright Knight's current horse was raised by Pariah as a gift for his friend).
As Regent, Vlad doesn't need to have A Thing of his own, but the old man became an art connoisseur during his time ruling in Danny's name.
Danny has zero clue what he wants to do, and he should probably be asleep, but he's stressing.
He's been getting questions on what he likes to do, and the rest of his Court like to remind him that, while he's fought all of them, and won against most of them, they've also seen him grow, and saw his embarrassing years, so they're essentially like when your well-meaning grandma asks you if you've already figured out what you wanna study in university.
And now, just as he's about to start pulling his hair out, dressed in stolen boyfriend and girlfriend clothes and his fuzziest pants, these...children summon him.
Well, Danny's always been good at bullshitting his way through Situations. And someone throws out the idea of asking him for knowledge.
"About what?" asks Danny, stealing a pack of the lemon oreos Martian Manhunter keeps in Mount Justice for when it's his turn supervising the Junior team.
And that's how Jazz has to come rescue her brother from a summons he never came back from, and finds him lounging on a beach chair, breathing stars made of ice and snow into existence to teach actual teenagers about Space and physics.
But the time he floats over to her side, Danny has found his Thing. He wants to teach. He's going to be for other kids the kind of teacher he wished he'd always had, and what Mr. Lancer tried to be, for all that the man noticed things a little late.
Maybe he gets summoned more regularly for practice teaching Young Justice? They schedule the summons around Justice League schedules so they don't have to share their new mentor. Sure Martian Manhunter gets brought in in the secret because Danny keeps stealing his lemon oreos when he's there, but he enjoys watching the young man learn and grow more confident in his role as a teacher, so he's got his support.
And then the Justice League main team, while meeting with their children in Young Justice, all get booted into the middle of the Commercial District of Pariah's old Lair, which became Danny's after the succession was established. At which point they have to make nice with the locals and get their bearings.
Only, who comes out of a bar, launched into the ground outside?
Why, Danny, his shirt torn, sleeves rolled up past his elbows. His knuckles are a bit bruised, and his forearms are scratched up.
He's smiling, though, and taunting whatever opponent he's picked a fight with. And out comes Skulker in the newest iteration of his armor.
Now, from the stories Danny tells, Young Justice know their favorite teacher has an interesting past, involving a lot of fighting.
They just weren't ready to see Teach throw down with a man made of metal.
Danny turns to see his little ghostlings, his smile grows wider, sharp teeth on display, and tells them "Sit tight, kiddos. Wanna watch something fun? This is how we do it where I come from!"
Skulker is basically a weapons platform shaped like a man, but Danny has been fighting him bare-handed for years now. In three quick moves, the head pops clean off with a hiss of steam, lands in Danny's hand, and he fishes out Skulker-blob to congratulate him on a good fight.
If you wanna throw in Red Hood too, this is where "Helpless" would kick in, as Jazz comes in to scold Danny for ruining his outfit again. Nit for fighting, Jazz is just as ready to throw down as her siblings, but she always leaves her fights with a pristine outfit, somehow.
And Jason is staring hard.
That's one woman worthy of the title of Goddess, in his opinion, and he's just become a religious man.
Batman is...impressed that the kids managed to hide an entire extra-dimensional entity being summoned regularly and kept it from even him. He's a little uncomfortable with Danny's willingness to just fight for the sake of fighting and calling it bonding, but now that they've been brought to a sitting room in the castle, in a more private setting with Danny, his siblings, and his friends, he can see that they're all just Like That.
I have nothing to add to this other than, this is PERFECT!! EXQUISITE! BEAUTIFUL, ABSOLUTELY DELICIOUS TO READ THROUGH. THIS IS ABSOLUTELY AMAZING AND FUNNY AND EVERYTHING. ♥️♥️
I love the Johnny/Danny/Kitty because it's two idiots and one Bad Bitch.
#danny phantom#danny fenton#dc x dp#danny phantom fandom#dp x dc#dcxdp#dcu#dp x dc crossover#dc x dp crossover#dpxdc#dcxdpdabbles#dc x dp prompt#ty for the ask :3#asks#anon ask#this is peak plot#dpxdc prompt#dpxdc prompts#dpxdc crossover#dp x dc au#dp x dc prompt
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Duck on a String
Jessie Fleming x Child!Reader
Summary: Jessie isn't at training
Jessie was missing.
Okay, well, that was a bit of an exaggeration. She wasn't missing in the sense that the police had to be called but she was definitely missing from training.
She hadn't texted or let any of the team know why but Emma and the other staff hadn't seemed to mind. Regardless though, it was enough for Magda to drag Pernille and Niamh to Jessie's door despite their complaining.
The curtains are closed so Magda can't nose around through the windows so she knocks on the front door.
There's no answer.
She knocks again.
"Maybe she's not in," Niamh says, shoving her hands into her pockets," Can we leave now? I'm hungry."
Magda knocks again, harder this time.
"She's probably sick," Pernille says," She might be napping, Magda. We don't want to-"
The door creaks open.
Magda expects Jessie. Maybe Jessie in her pyjamas or with major bedhead, all red and feverish.
Instead, she gets you.
You're kneeling on the top of the entrance hall table that Jessie uses to put her keys on. You're absolutely tiny and there's no way you could have unlocked the chain lock without it.
Magda expected a sick Jessie.
Instead she gets a sick you.
You're still sitting on the table with wide eyes. Your cheeks are all red and even from the distance, Magda can feel the fever raging through you.
Despite this, you look absolutely adorable, dressed simply in a little duckling shirt and shorts.
"Er..." Magda's at a loss for words and it's clear that Pernille and Niamh are shocked too.
"Hi, sweetheart," Pernille coos at you," Do we have the right house? Is Jessie Fleming here?"
You wiggle down from the table and Pernille reaches out quickly in case you fall but you seem fine.
"Mama!" You call," Mama!"
Footsteps sound and the door open furthers.
"Duckie!" Jessie scolds," What have I said about opening the door?"
"Sorry," You say before pointing at the girls in front of you," Here for you."
Jessie lays a kiss on your cheek before pushing you further into the house.
You waddle off and Niamh smothers a laugh as you pull a set of wooden ducks on a string after you.
Jessie stands in front of her teammates awkwardly. Unlike you, she's not sick. She looks perfectly fine, if a little nervous.
"What's with the kid?" Niamh asks and Jessie looks unbelievably more awkward.
"That's my Duckie," She says," She's sick."
"That explains nothing."
"I-"
There's a crash sound behind her.
"Mama! Duckies go crash!"
"Do you want to come in?" Jessie asks," It's just..." She jerks a thumb behind her.
"That would be nice, Jessie," Pernille says, guiding everyone inside.
You're sitting in the lounge when they make it inside. Your wooden ducks on a string are now sitting on their sides and you've got the biggest pout known to man on your face.
Jessie sets them right and you're off again, wandering around the room in a circle as you drag your ducks behind you.
"I adopted her," Jessie admits," Do you remember the club did that benefit for kids in foster care? Bought them new clothes and toys? I was holding a duck. She was really excited about it."
"A kid is a big step," Pernille advises, not unkindly.
"I know," Jessie says," But...But I looked at her and just knew. You know?"
"Er...not really no," Magda replies, scratching the back of her head as her eyes track your circular motions," But I trust you, Jess. She seems sweet."
The dopiest smile appears on Jessie's face. "Duckie's great. She so sweet."
You turn your head at the sound of your nickname and wander over. Your ducks come trailing after you and you keep a tight grip on their string.
"Hi, Mama!" You give her a big kiss on the cheek.
"Hi, Duckie." Jessie's still got that silly, dopey smile on her face as you give her another kiss. "Theses are my friends Magda, Pernille and Niamh."
"Hi, Magda, Pernille and Niamh!" You say before looking back at Jessie with the exact same dopey smile that she has. "Mama, my duckies say quack!"
"That's right!" Jessie says," Duckies do say quack!"
You giggle hysterically before breaking into a coughing fit that has Jessie gently rubbing you back.
"All better!" You chirp, swiping your nose with your sleeve before hopping down. You grab Niamh's hand and tug at her until she's standing, walking around with her in circles as you pull along your ducks.
"Duckie's usually shy," Jessie admits," She must like you all."
It doesn't seem like you're shy at all until the hours lag on and you grow tired. The sun has set and Jessie's made dinner for all five of you.
That's when the shyness sets in along with the fatigue that Niamh reckons comes with whatever sick bug you've got.
You don't walk in circles with your ducks on the string and you stay very firmly planted in Jessie's lap as she zips up your fluffy duckling sleepsuit.
You yawn, head slumped against Jessie's collarbone as you stare at the three football players. Mama's running her fingers through your damp hair and you really thought her friends would have been gone by the time that you had finished your bath.
You yawn again as your eyes focus on Magda and Pernille. You don't really want to go up to them but you've been having thoughts about them ever since Magda helped you with your farmyard animals puzzle when Mama was cooking.
You wiggle off Mama's lap and toddle over to them.
You take Pernille's hand and put it into Magda's.
"Love each other," You say in your sleepy haze," Forever. Date."
Magda looks up at Jessie in confusion but her teammate is already cooing over you, lifting you up into her arms. You burrow into them quickly and Jessie places a soft felt duck into your hands.
"I think it's bedtime," Mama says to you," Don't you think so?"
"Duckie go night-night," You agree.
Mama smiles. "That's right. Duckie is going night-night. Can you say goodbye to my friends?"
"Bye-bye."
Mama carries you up to bed after taking your temperature one last time. She rubs your back and gives you kisses before tucking you into your bed with your duckie bedsheets and your duckie pillows.
"Goodnight, duckie."
"Night-night, Mama."
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PAC : How can u express your affection to your partner while having sex ? (18+)
Oh...Today drain me...
Good evening pretty souls ! I am so excited ... IS OFFICIALLY KINKTOBER ! DAY : 17-18
You want to have a more detailed readings (for 2.22$), you can join my Chérie d'Amour (soul tribe)
SEX Doula =SALE READING
PILE 1
Strenght (reverse), knight of wands (reverse),8 cups, 9 pentacles
You guys are very photogenic. Your friends love taking pictures of you and may even do it without you knowing. Y’all are very aesthetically pleasing people. On the other hand, y’all can’t not take a good picture to save yourself. You are incapable of finding the angle or even placing the phone properly, worse than boomers for some. Which ends up pissing off your friends. Y’all are not tech savvy. We are lucky you even know how to use your phone.
The way you show your affection is by having no control on the relationship. Wherever the flow brings y’all, you cool with it. You don’t care for labels and you are down for literally anything. Don’t care and you will never care for the title ‘’ relationship’’, you don’t mind being ‘’just friends’’ forever. You guys can move in together, fuck each other cuddle, go to hopsital appointment and share y’all deepest secret and even convince a kid with no title. You will not have shame or even be scared to explain your situation to people around you because you don’t mind how unorthodox it is. That being said for technicalities, you will allow your partner to explore sexual endeavors with other people. Even allowing them to hold their own independence meaning living in the same house but sleeping in different bedrooms. If y’all share an abundance with each other, you can share a mansion. Like the east side is yours and the south side is his/hers. You will show your affection by holding no taboo against them. They can possess any sex toys; they might even introduce you to their sex dolls, if they feel like it. Y’all may not even have sex at all… some of y’all is giving lavender marriage. Maybee ? I don’t know ? I have no clear indication of such but the way I am writing it, it sure sounds like it. Another way to show your affection is by accepting their belief, y’all may have different religion or practice. Lastly you may show your affection by not expecting anything material from them (which lowkey breaks one of the principles of Lavender marriage …). You don’t expect a ring, a car, or even roses on valentine day’s. All things said , it is really a show of going with the flow. If they decide to do it, you don’t mind doing it too. If they dim all the little gestures unnecessary then so do you. Ultimately your ‘’ no pressure’’ attitude is going to be the best way you show affection to them which can simulate their sexual appetite.
💌 : FIND OUT, How your partner use their fingers in the bedroom ? on Ko-fi.
PILE 2
Queen swords, 4 swords, 7 pentacles (reverse), 2 pentacles
Y’all are adopted. Y’all were in the system until 10 years old ( max ) then your life took another turn for the best. You always loved your adoptive family. They always welcomed you and poured into you. The whole family is always showering you with gifts, affection and support but you need an answer. You got them, you quickly realize that you dodge the bullet. Your biological family may be very abusive.
The way you show your affection with your partner in a sexual setting starts with foreplay. You may indulge in giving your full attention to them. You are the perfect boyfriend/girlfriend for nerds. You will let them rant bout all the rules in the new fantasy world in which they are obese about while giving them the ‘’fuck me’’ eyes. You have beautiful brown eyes with stars in them when you are looking at something that you love. Sex apart, they love the way you look at them. You make them feel like the most loved human being with only a look from you. The appreciation, tenderness, passion all of it in the iris of your eyes is making them love sick. Back to the sex, the way you listen and UNDERSTAND (at least try) make them feel fucking special. You even go as far as engaging in conversation with them which they looooove. Even when you are clumsy with the concept of a subject you don’t get mad when they correct you. Artists would be the perfect pair for you too. Not only are you the perfect muse (we are going to get into it later…) but you are a smart one. You don’t mind diving into the critics of philosopher, you don’t mind debating who is the best musician of the Renaissance, you don’t mind sitting down and letting your partner paint your back when they are overstimulated and you don’t mind listening to your partner singing for hours until they find perfect note. You have the patience of a God and that makes them want to give it all to you. Honestly you love discussing and especially debating because that’s why you turn on. So everything I listed is something they naturally do and everything is a way to get your panties wet/cock hard. Yes, paint on bareback and let your hand caress. Yes, sing to me how good I make you feel in between the sheets. Yes, debate the principle of Aristotle with me and show your passion. I love how you are trying to make your point while at the same focusing on my juicy lips. Ok! Pile 2, your energy fully took over for a minute. Another way you show your affection is by making sure they reach their orgasm. It doesn't matter if they are tired after going hammers into you and making you cum at least 3 times.It doesn't matter if you are worn out. You need them to cum or you are dying … Ok a bit dramatic… (I feel like y’all are natural drama queen/king). You will give them a handjob or you will rub their clit. You will do what is require for with the power still left in you to deliver your duty (Like I said fucking dramatic). Plus you will love to dive into the pleasure of a long intensive edging session, y’all can go for weeks edging. Playing with each other without actually reaching the sinful need of the body. Building the orgasm with each other and not cheating even when you are really really really horny. Is almost a principle of respect for you. Lastly, you are acceptive of them in the bedroom. You don’t shame them for their kinks, you encourage them to go for it. You allow an open and affectionate communication for y’all to discuss y'all fantasy, kinks , experience, need, want, desire, etc…
💌 : Also don't feel bad because you have leaned on your partner through out the whole quest to your roots adventure. While you were trying to puzzle the truth regarding your identity, your partner felt needed and not at all annoyed. So relief yourself from that guilt. They are fine. FIND OUT, How your partner use their fingers in the bedroom ? on Ko-fi.
PILE 3
9 wands (reverse), 2 cups, Knight wands, Tower (reverse)
Y’all are going through it mentally. You are deep in a depression rut. Y’all are victime of sexual harassment and you are healing. Is not as bad as it was but you know… sometimes the voice gets loud all over again. I am sending all the love I can,your way. You and I know it is going to get better and that the worse will pass. You just need to hang in there until you find the pace and you power back again. You knew your ex before y’all became a couple. He was a good friend when the accident happened and he came back into your life. He did not mean to leave you, you know we get busy with life and distance gets created. Naturally the Divine opens a path for you to welcome them back into your life. Then you open up and it was good and got very bad again. So you decide to cut the relationship so you can heal some more without being a burden. They are going insane Pile 3. Don’t get me wrong, they are respecting your choice. But I have the vision of someone tearing up while doing their homework. Everytime they get back into their apartment at the end of the day, they literally get in a fetus position for a good 5 minutes reminiscing about you. They pray often which is ironic since they never believe in God or anything like that. Begging them to give them your pain and leaving you alone. That you suffer enough. The tears also are not something they do. Is not that they are emotionally available, they are just very masculine .
This section of the reading is from their POV .
They love making love to you. They love caressing you. They love your cellulite. They love your small boobs, they love your stomach, they love your thick tights ( I’m so sorry but I need to say that I am fucking rooting for them. Out here pushing through the tears to deliver the message. Ironic, I rarely get REALLY emotional. If only you could feel what I am feeling …) and they love your hair (another message came through, One of your ex told you he hurted you because you were ugly and that he cheated because he loved blond … your man (I know y’all are not together but I am FUCKING rooting fo them) is screaming : I LOVE YOUR BROWN HAIR !). They kissed every part of you because they wished to make all the bad memories go away. They wish they could erase any trace of your abuser away. Is not about lust, it is all about the true passion that goes straight to their dick when they see you. Is not about owning you or winning you over. Is about protecting you and giving you the love you always deserve. They love having sex with you. When y’all were together, you could not keep y’all hands off each other. In a fucked up way you brain twisted that damm information (swear I am not mad at your brain, she is a victim too. So she is doing anything in her power to protect herself) making you feel that they only want you because of sex. Because that’s all a man can ever want from you. That’s all you are good for. You are undeserving of love because you are broken good ( Yes… Is me … again … YOU ARE NOT FUCKING BROKEN GOOD ! YOU HEARD ME ! You better tell your brain to get her shit together real quick. Is going to take time but let’s start by dropping the concept that you are damaged goods. I don’t want you to EVER think that.) The reality is they love you so much they can’t resist you. The mere fact that they can indulge in your affection is their biggest blessing. They are so grateful (Going back to their prayers, they are grateful that the Divine kept you alive and safe until you came back to them) that they get to share intimate moments with you. That you even let them see you in that seductive light. There’s nothing you can, God can do, I can do that's going to stop them from going back to you. There’s nothing that happens to you no matter how bad it is, that’s going to disgust them . There's nothing you can do that’s going to make them run away. Ever since you came back into their life, the flowers bloom, the sun shines and the birds chip. You brought the color back into their life. You brought joy to the mundane. Sex with you is an explosion of good feelings, fireworks even. They love sliding into you, seeing your face twisting in pleasure not in pain. A pleasure they are giving you and a pain they are protecting you from, safe in his presence . They often push you to keep your eyes focused on them because they want you to see you are safe. You are loved and you choose a good one proving you it was never your fault. Nothing you could have done was worth that punishment.
***BONUS***
How can you cope with your sexual wound ?
Spirit has an extra message dedicated to you.
The ultimate problem of this relationship is the perception of yourself. Before we get any further, I am not here to hurt you (Trust me, I understand you more than you think). You need to contextualize what happened to you. Maybe you are not ready to get help, maybe you are not ready to talk about… fuck maybe you just not ready to deal with it but you need to realize that he is not him. I understand that your brain wants to protect you from all the ‘’him’’. Maybe repeat to yourself out loud, ‘’ (His name) is not my enemy. He is my true lover’’ everyday while you're taking a shower. When you are caressing your body with soap, remind her, she is ok with (his name). Is important that you precise the name for your body to understand that only him at least with him everything is alright. You need to find a way to make your brain and body understand that he is your protector and lover. Because your soul knows he is home. You may not know about the rest and you got hurt by the rest but him… never him … he is all love. I know you are suffering but keeping him away is killing y'all more than you think. I am not telling you to break your boundaries or get back with him, now. You can shoot him a text. Small text here and there, telling him, you are ok , you ate. It can even be random as you telling him you are watching your favorite TV show. Let your brain get used to craving intimacy at a healthy pace. Plus it will greatly ease his mind. Please stop dissociating while you are having sex (Bestie speaking from experience, don’t do it because it can become a habit … when that happens … you will try anything to go back to feeling something …), if you feel like you can’t do it, express it. I don’t care if you are in the middle of an act. I don’t care if you feel horny but you got triggered. I DON’T CARE … take a break, regulate your nervous system and come back. Last let yourself heal, there’s no race when it come to this fuck up mess. Stop comparing yourself to your past and let yourself discover the new you, who survive one of the most terrorizing situations. Much love Chérie d’Amour, you got this and I DO … love you.
💌 : FIND OUT, How your partner use their fingers in the bedroom ? on Ko-fi.
#tarot#tarot reading#tarotcommunity#divination#tarot cards#pac#pick a card#pick a picture#pick a pile#18+ tarot#future lover#love reading#kinktober
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— a proper knight.
pairing: dainsleif x gn!reader
premise: fading memories of bygone pasts are no stranger to dainsleif, but if there were two things he still remembered it's his journey with an outlander, and his beloved mentor who loved flowers.
— warnings: slight angst if you squint
— author's note: khaenri'ahn people will always hold a special place in my heart. this has been in the drafts for so long and it's finally going to see the light of day!!! thank you ray ( @mikashisus ) for proofreading this <3. art credits to @.birdsofpasssage on twt. | 2.1k words.
a knight has seven virtues: courage, justice, mercy, generosity, nobility, hope, and faith. dainsleif often wondered why faith was a virtue he must have to become a knight, it seemed silly to have in a nation that believed in no god, but he was proven wrong when he first saw you.
“the nation’s finest knight,” “khaenri’ah’s greatest talent,” and “the light bringer.” these were all the titles given to you in your many years of serving this nation. just like how his father told him, khaenri’ah’s finest knight was fearless, just, and merciful. you embodied the hope this nation craved—a guiding light. he often wondered what exactly you saw in him to take him as your apprentice. but when he asked the question, you gave no reply and asked, “what’s your favorite flower?”
dainsleif was confused—was this flower loving knight really khaenri’ah’s greatest talent, the same harsh instructor everyone feared? dainsleif let out a heavy breath when he realized he might have signed up for the wrong job. but like the first time he saw you swing the sword, all his initial doubts were quenched. you simply loved flowers because they contrasted your brutal animosity on the battlefield—a reminder of the fragile and beautiful home you grew up in and the weight of khaenri’ah’s fragile hope of the world.
yes, you were harsh, and yes, you criticized every swing of his sword, but you cared. deeply so that you would drop to one knee in front of a crying knight who profusely apologized for retiring—the burden of being a hero was too great. you would take the burden of others out of their hands and carry them yourself, even if it meant burning out the light the people gave you.
that day, dainsleif found a new purpose for being a knight: to ease your burdens and see you rest under beds of the flowers you loved the most, free from all worries. so he trained, long and hard until all his bones began to quake and beg for rest, and even then he never stopped. he trained until he adopted your way of fighting in the bloodshed—even when bloodied and on the brink of death, turn to your comrades and give them hope; a reason to fight until the end. he learned to bask in your silent company, weaving inteyvat like second nature, as if these delicate flowers could bind both of your souls together in a silent promise.
you were quiet in your affections and bitterly cold in your duties, but even when dainsleif hangs his head low as you appoint him his title, he feels the gentle grip on your sword. he hears the crowd cheer and applauds, he takes this as a sign to raise his head, and he’s grateful for the neutral expression you’ve instilled in him since his trainee days. one soft look in your eyes that’s directed at him and he’d go down on his knees and kiss the ground beneath your feet—offer you the stars that hang in the sky and demand a seat reserved just for you in celestia’s abode.
the both of you sneak away from the festivities and dainsleif takes this chance to ask, “why the title of twilight sword?”
he believed you wouldn’t answer—you never did—and to no one’s surprise, you simply placed an inteyvat behind his ear. gloved hand brushing his hair back and securing the fragile flower in place with khemia.
“you’re still young, my stubborn apprentice,” you start, voice carrying years of wisdom unknown to him. “you’ll understand when you’re a proper knight.”
dainsleif furrowed his brow in contemplation. wasn’t he already a proper knight? the title given to him should prove it, so what did your words mean? dainsleif should’ve stayed in the garden until dusk arrived. cherished the already scarce moments he had with you, but you can’t blame him for the hurt you had caused because how dare you view him as a little boy.
he’ll never have the chance to yell at you or even get mad because, by the next few days, his home will be bathed in a crimson catastrophe. dainsleif couldn’t even process anything properly as you jumped into action—carrying the sword in your hand, cape flying with the wind as you barked orders. “protect the people! you are all knights, experienced or not, your duty is to protect your home.” your voice reverberated in the chaos before diving into the battlefield head first.
you were nowhere in sight and dainsleif had never felt so helpless in battle. all the confidence he's built over the years comes crumbling down as he forces his band of knights to retreat—their defeat was already set in stone. but he couldn’t give up yet so he stayed in the fray, swinging his sword, searching for survivors, and hoping to catch up to you. he knows he’ll die if he doesn’t retreat but he can’t bring himself to be sheltered when you’re still out there, fighting for your life.
the sky burned a deeper crimson as the fury of the god’s raged on. amid the battle, you stood there, all on your own, a figure of unwavering resolve and devotion. dainsleif watched in silent agony as you took down monster after monster, racing against the time you don’t have. he knew, dainsleif knew deep down you would not come with him, and that thought makes him falter. how can you, the person who taught him to fight for all he’s cared about, suddenly teach him how to leave everything behind?
“[name!]” he shouts, voice being lost amid battle, as he runs in your direction. dainsleif feels a bile rise to his throat as he tears his gaze away from the bodies littered at your feet. the flowers you dearly loved were now revolting. “we need to retreat.”
“i cannot,” you cut down his hope like a knife. you turn to face him, all the hope he once admired in you now gone as you walk farther away from him. “leave, dainsleif. let me handle the rest.”
“i won’t leave you here to die in vain.” he catches your wrist and tugs at you in the direction of safety. “we’ve lost, light bringer. please, retreat with me.”
you break his hold on your wrist, your gloved hands stained with blood cradle his face before shoving him harshly and desperate. “my duty lies here in khaenri’ah and i will die upholding it. but you are different my stubborn apprentice, allow yourself to be more than just the twilight sword.”
“what am i supposed to protect if you aren’t there to encourage me?” he questions, unsure of his purpose if you weren’t there to help him.
but you only smile—kind and reassuring. “you will make a fine knight one day, dainsleif. do not let this one defeat sway your resolve. i did not train you to give up easily. now go,” you push him further and further as the monsters roared and the gods rained their fury.
the weight of your decision was palpable—dainsleif couldn’t bring himself to breathe as you jumped into battle once again. he wanted to be your sword, the one to aid you in battle even when he’s no more than a rusty piece of scrap metal. he wanted to scream at you, how could you abandon him so easily when he’s spent all these years staying by your side? but you still turned back, eyes no longer as hopeful as before but they still flickered faintly.
“carry on, dainsleif,” you whisper to him from a distance, amidst all the screams and crimson sky, dainsleif still hears you. it was not a command—it was a promise.
dainsleif’s last memory of you was the beds of inteyvats beneath your feet and the tears that stained your cheek. that was over 500 years ago, and the memory of that cataclysm was still a fresh wound in his mind. in those 500 years, dainsleif traversed through teyvat, following every and any trail of the abyss order to put an end to this madness. all the while, he found himself picking flowers from each nation, pondering which would be your favorite.
he’s always imagined your second meeting to be bittersweet; a harsh cut to the heart with you laughing at someone while dainsleif stood on the sidelines. but that wasn’t you at all, because when you do meet for the second time, it’s by a bed of sumeru roses and wild flora as you indulge in the aranara’s amusement.
dainsleif has always thought you were meant to be like this, not a valiant knight covered in scars and blood, but an angel bathed in moonlight as you sang the kids a lullaby and wished them a good night. you were meant for flowers and crowns, not a sword or shield.
he takes one step, then two, and then he fully stops. dainsleif wanted to approach—the yearning to catch up with the mentor he grew to love—but he was scared. who was he to disturb your fragile happiness? you had survived a great catastrophe and are now living a happy life, he no longer had a part to play in your story. this guilt for failure was his and his alone to carry. who was he to disturb your quiet sanctuary when he left you behind for 500 years?
“not going to say hello to your old mentor?”
dainsleif feels an arm drape across his shoulders, bringing him down to face your height as your other hand comes to pat down his blonde hair. “i taught you to be chivalrous and courteous. don’t tell me you’ve forgotten in a measly five-hundred years?”
500 years wasn’t a number to scoff at, yet here you were, the same hair that was swept away from your eyes and the same confident stance. you let him go and the two of you fall into a silent walk. to where? dainsleif’s not quite sure. he didn’t want to drag you into his scuffle with the abyss, he’d much rather have you stay somewhere in sumeru where you’d be safe. but he knew, deep down dainsleif knew, you wouldn’t pass up the chance to know what truly happened that day.
“you’ve been blessed with a new life,” he mentions and motions to the cryo vision on your hip. “you can leave khaenri’ah behind now.”
you only shook your head. “teyvat has treated me well these past five hundred years, but i’d much rather come back home.”
dainsleif presses his lips into a thin line and says nothing. what could he say, after all, throughout the years he’s been with you, not once has he ever convinced you to retreat. he was snapped out of his daze when your hand came to pat the back of his head. you no longer wore gloves, and dainsleif swore he could feel every callous and gentle press of your palm.
“you’re so grown up now,” you say in jest, eyes twinkling with uncontained amusement. “don’t take my last statement about you to heart, dainsleif. you have always been a proper knight, i just didn’t want to see you go so soon.”
he stays silent and allows you to pat his head like a child. when the two of you start walking again you tell him your reason for his title.
“twilight is when light and darkness merge,” dainsleif’s eyes never once left yours as you talked. you just smile and continue. “it’s a period where the world becomes uncertain, just like you. that’s why dusk is the one to give birth to dawn.”
dainsleif lets out a small sound between a scoff and laugh. “i still don’t understand why you carry the title of dusk. why not let someone else carry the burden?”
you chuckle and look over to the horizon. “i simply do not wish for someone to suffer as i have.”
“you’re foolish,” he mutters and you hum in reply. he tears his gaze from you and instead looks over to the rising sun in the distance. “why did you choose me that day?”
“you were the only knight who would willingly cross hell before he arrived in heaven.”
dainsleif furrows his brow in confusion. even after 500 years, you still spoke in riddles he couldn’t decipher without any hints. “i have no desire to go to heaven if you’re not there. my duty will always be bound to the abyss.”
“like a mentor, like a mentee, still so stubborn to uphold a duty that’s long passed. but even then, you’ve become a fine knight, dainsleif.” you compliment.
“i had a stubborn teacher, but they were the best of the best. the greatest knight in khaenri’ah.” there was a joking air to his response and you let out a chuckle. your hand comes to rest at the back of his head and gently pat it as you both look away from the rising sun.
“well, shall we go back home now?”
© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.
#—stellaronhvnters.#dainsleif x reader#dainsleif x you#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin impact angst#genshin impact fluff#genshin x you#genshin x reader#genshin angst#genshin fluff#dainsleif genshin impact#genshin impact imagines#genshin imagines#( 🂡 ) – royal flush of stories .ᐟ
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Night out ?
Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physical and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....
( All characters are aged up/18+)
Minors Do Not Interact
Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report
Y/n's POV
We were kids when Gojo adopted us. Us means me, Megumi and Tsumiki. I was tsumiki's elder sister. Me and her were Megumi's step sister. I was their mentor before Gojo Satoru adopted us.
I'm 5 years younger than Gojo. When he adopted us Megumi asked Gojo "what should we call you? Dad?" And Gojo replied "no no...call me Gojo...dad sounds like I'm married". From then we call him Gojo.
11 years passed. I'm a 22 year old girl now. Gojo's 27. I don't know what happened to him in these past 3 or 4 years.... Gojo acts weird. He doesn't let me hang out with any guy. He also told me not to make any guy friends...
I have a boyfriend named Alex. Not many people know about it. Just my friends. And of course Gojo doesn't know....he might kill me if he knows. One night Alex arranged a date. Gojo had a mission that day so he won't be at home. And Tsumiki is in her college hostel and Megumi was going out with his friends that night.
So everything is fine. I just got ready. Wore a mini sleeveless top and a short skirt. I grabbed my hand bag and went out of my room. I was walking down the stairs looking through my phone. Suddenly I heard a voice. "where are you going?"
I looked towards the voice in front of me. I freeze there. What is Gojo doing here?! Isn't he supposed to be on a mission?! "Y-you came so early?" I asked. "Yeah that mission wasn't that tough... I don't know what makes those higher ups think it's tough" he replied. His eyes traveled my whole body.
"oh... I see" I said with a nervous smile. He walked towards me. "You didn't tell me where you are going" He said. "Oh... yeah...me? It's just a girl's night" I said. He looked at me confusedly. "Okay..." He spoke "but your dress is too revealing to out". "It's okay... it's just girls" I said. And my fucking luck....
My phone rang. It was Alex. I didn't answer the call. "Y/n?" Gojo said. "Hmm?" I replied. "Give me your phone" he said. "W-what" I asked. "I said give me your phone" he said and snatched my phone from my hand. "G-gojo wait" I spoke.
He looked at my phone. A smirk played on his lips. He looked at me again. "Girls night huh?" He spoke. I just silently looked at him. I felt like my heart was gonna blast. "Who's Alex?" He asked. I didn't speak. "You won't speak? Fine let me handle this" he said and called Alex.
Alex picked up the call and Gojo started walking towards me. I started walking backwards.
Alex: hello, babe? Are you ready?
Gojo: no she's not coming...
Alex: ........who...who are you?
Gojo: me? I'm her boyfriend.
I didn't notice and fell on the couch. Gojo climbed over me. His one leg was between my legs.
Gojo: yes I am her boyfriend...and we're having some fun....so you can fuck off.
Gojo said and hung up the call and threw my phone. "G-gojo please I'm sorry I won't..." I spoke. "Didn't I tell you not to make any guy friends?" He asked. "I'm sorry" I said. "Sorry won't work" he said. I was supporting myself on my one elbow.
"I'm going out... I won't come tonight-" a voice said and it stopped in the middle of his sentence. We both looked at the door. It was Megumi. He was shocked to see us in that position. Gojo looked at me and whispered " don't tell him anything or else I'll kill Alex.... you know I'm capable of that".
I told Megumi that we accidentally fell on each other. After Megumi leaves the house Gojo grabbed me by my waist and took me to his room. He locked the door then turned towards me. He started walking towards me. I started walking backwards. He pushed me on the bed.
"don't act like a dumb and tell me that you didn't know that I like you" he said in a sarcastic tone. "Now be a good girl and don't protest about anything I'm gonna do to you....or else you know I can kill anyone I want" he whispered and climbed on the bed.
He caged me under him. "Fuck the more I look at the more I get harder" he said kissed my neck. My breath is coming heavy. He brought his hand behind me to unplug my top. "You call it a top? It's a bra... and you thought I'll let you go out wearing this bra and.... with a guy?" He said and chuckled and took off my top.
He threw it on the floor. He looked at me with lust in his eyes and didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensetion. I grabbed his hair and tried to stop him by pulling it but it didn't even effect on him. "G-gojo stopppp... I won't do it again" I screamed but he didn't stop.
"Call me Satoru " he said and took off my skirt and then took off my pantie."I'm gonna took it" he whispered and then looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered with a smirk "want it so bad, huh?". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pants.
His dick sprang out. It was too big and too thick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " G-gojo no no no... P-please no... s-stop.... I promise I won't do it again" I begged but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I screamed. "Fuck fuck fuck" he groaned. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. "I waited for it so long" he moaned. I was throwing my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder.
I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh...no please no, Satoru....ahhhhhh..... n-not ahhhh.....not inside..." I moaned. He grabbed my throat and chocked me down to the bed. " Finally called me Satoru?" He said with a smirk. I didn't even realise that I called him Satoru. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out.
I was so weak that I couldn't even move. He cleaned me up then cleaned himself. After that he threw himself beside me on the bed and hugged me tightly from behind. He fell asleep. A message notification came on my phone from Megumi.....
Megumi:
Y/n are you and Gojo in a relationship?
Don't tell me that you two accidentally fell on each other like that.... I'm not a dumb
If you are in a relationship you can tell me
I won't judge you
It's totally fine for me.
And I think he loves you so much...
Give me your requests guys....
I love when you give me your requests 💕
#jjk#jjk smut#smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#tw noncon#fem reader#dark content#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jujutsu gojo#gojou satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo somnophilia#gojo smut#gojo noncon#yandere jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere gojo smut#yandere gojo#yandere#possessive#obssesive#dark blog#dark writing#dark romance
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SHOWER SURPRISE
Dick Grayson x Female! Reader
Summary: You try joining Dick in the shower for some time together and it backfires.
Warning: SMUT! NSFW! 18+ ONLY! MINORS DNI OR YOU WILL GET BLOCKED! hickeys, oral (m receiving), pet names (babe + baby), please don’t do sexc time in the shower, you might hurt yourself ☹️ also no beta, we die like robins
Word Count: 1,168
A/N: look at me, two fics a couple days apart! I saw a writing prompt with this plot years ago and i’ve always wanted to write it! I just wanted to let everyone know that requests are open! I’m still working on finishing work from my drafts but I don't mind working on other ideas. just make sure to check faq before requesting. Ofc reblogs and replies are always appreciated 💖
This wasn’t part of your plan. Not part of the plan at all.
You scrambled out of the freezing cold shower and clambered for your bathrobe that hung on the door of your shared bathroom. Water dripped all over the floor but you were more focused on getting warm.
“Baby?!” Dick gasped, it was hard to miss the shock in his voice. His head popped out from behind the sliding shower door, his eyes wide and jaw already on the floor. “Are you okay?”
Your eyes glaze over at his muscular frame, only slightly obscured by the frosted glass of the shower door. it’s not like you haven’t seen him undressed before but you can’t help but to ogle at him with no shame.
You wanted to surprise Dick by joining him for his post-patrol shower. Help him get off the sweat and grime from a long night and maybe get him dirty in a different way. But you forget one key piece of information.
Dick typically takes cold showers after patrols.
“Yes, just-“ Goosebumps sprinkled across your dark skin, most of it still exposed despite how tightly you wrapped yourself up in your bathrobe. You caught yourself almost letting your teeth chatter while continuing to speak to your boyfriend. “Just so cold.”
“Come back in, I’m gonna warm up the shower.” Dick moves towards the faucet of the walk in shower. A squeak rings out as it turns and slowly the bathroom mirror begins to fog up from steam.
“C’mon, Babe,” He stretches his arm out for you.
You strip your robe off slowly. It’s not like Dick is lying about warming up the shower but that small part of your mind still can’t get over the shock of the cold water. You fully expect to get drenched with bone chilling water for the second time tonight.
“I promise, it’s warm, baby.” As if he could read your mind (or just read your body language, being that he was adopted by the world’s greatest detective).
You step in the shower once again now greeted by warm water and the sweet smile of your boyfriend.
“There you are. I really thought you were going to ditch me for a second.”
You took the suds covered loofah from out of his hand and gently ran it across his chest. You giggle to yourself before answering “Almost did.”
You and Dick go through your entire shower routine together, occasionally sprinkling in small talk on how your day went.
Soon, You’re rinsing each other off, the soap swirling down the drain. Dick drags his hands up and down the sides of your body, the water running down the both of you. He’s completely smitten with you after feeling so well taken care after a long night.
He leans in, dusting kisses across your face, making it distracting you from rinsing the soap from his inky black hair. He’s teasing you. Each kiss, you think he’ll finally kiss on your lips but the kiss lands somewhere else instead.
After a while, you had enough of his game. you tangle your fingers into his hair and guide his lips to yours.
Dick let out a whimper, he pressed your body against the shower wall, deeping this kiss. His hands roamed your body, fingers massaging your ass and the other hand squeezing your boob. He kisses the corner of your mouth, to cheek and then your jawline. Finally, he works his way down your neck, kisses getting sloppier as he goes. Your breaths get deeper while he sucks on the crook of your neck, grazing his teeth on it before dragging his tongue. Your neck is covered in hickeys but couldn’t care less, the only thing on your mind is making sure you and Dick have a great time and enjoy the moment.
“I need to know if you want this,” Dick says.
You look into his baby blue eyes with so much excitement. “I want this.”
“On your knees, now.”
You slowly drop to your knees, making sure to steady yourself as not to fall on the tile floor. His dick already hard, your fingers wrap around it, giving him a couple pumps. You let your tongue swirl on the tip, getting a taste of the precum that was already leaking out. Your lips work its way past his tip, taking your sweet time to suck him off.
“I know you can take it or am I too big for you?” You both lock eyes as he smirks, clearly teasing you.
And at the moment, you thought fuck taking your sweet time.
Your hands move to his thighs and squeeze them, letting your nails slightly dig into his skin to ground. You increase your speed, head bobbing with all caution thrown out. Your mind was already made, you were determined to work your way down his shaft. Coaxing more moans and whimpers out of Dick as you continue sucking him off. You can’t help but to moan at the filthy sounds you were making in the process.
You got yourself as close to his hilt as you could, your mouth adjusting to his size before Dick grabs the back of your head and thrusts.
“That’s right. Every inch of me.” He groans out.
You're completely at his mercy, your mind can only focus on how good this feels while you deep throat him. He slowly pulls out before thrusting again and again, working up to steady pace to fuck you to. He was kidding about taking every inch of him because god, you could feel how big he was. Your eyes glassy as a mix of drool and precum drips down your chin, trying your best not to choke.
“Don’t stop, baby. I’m so close-“ He moans, his hips rutting into your mouth, his self control slipping. Each trust was getting sloppier than the last. The water from the shower runs down every crevice of his toned body. He can help but babble about how great you feel and how much he wants you, his mind already blessed out.
And that’s when it happens. One last thrust that kisses the back of your throat. Dick moans and pants, his chest rising and falling as he fills your mouth with his hot sticky cum.
You mew, making sure to suck every last drop before your lips let go with a pop. You’re already aware that you probably look like a hot mess. Saliva and leftover cum that you couldn’t swallow running down your mouth. Your pupils are blown out with stray tears. And if it wasn’t for the shower cap you had on, you know hair would’ve been ruined too.
But you didn’t mind at all, loving making Dick a wreck.
Dick leans over, twists the faucet off.
“C’mere, I’m not done with you.” He pulls you up to feet again, cupping your face before diving in for another kiss. His tongue brushes past your lips to get a taste of you and himself.
#batman imagine#nightwing imagine#dc imagine#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#dick grayson x reader smut#nightwing smut#dick grayson smut
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Country Rose 3
Warnings: age gap, power dynamics, creep behaviour, other dark elements. As usual, be mindful of your content consumption.
I also beg of you to leave me some tuppence in the form of a comment and/or reblog. You are cherished!
Enjoy, my loverlies.
You go down and find Martha in the kitchen. She smiles so brightly as you appear and offer to help her finish the corn. You can't help a sliver of glumness. Your mother never was so happy to see you. No, it's her disappointment that pushed you accept the job to move away to the middle of no where.
The more you think about it, the more you doubt yourself. To what end are you putting yourself through this desolate purgatory. It might be novel and peaceful now but you always tend to grow bored with the familiar. It's the very reason you flunked out of college. You couldn't do the same day over and over.
"What are we making with the corn?" You ask, hoping the conversation can ease the tension, not just with Martha but in your mind.
"Oh, I got some potatoes to roast and some beef. Homegrown," she explains, "you do a lotta cookin', sweetheart?"
"Mostly out of boxes," you laugh, "but I'm willing to learn. How are you roasting the potatoes? Quartered? Sliced?"
"Oh, you are so darned helpful," she brightens and gently taps your arm, "you can grab the sack just there," she points to the pantry door, "and give em a scrub before you cut em. Anyway you like. I'll pick out some seasonings."
"Sounds like a plan," you agree.
You set to work. You haul out the heavy canvas bag with a grunt and barely get it on the counter. Martha hands you a metal strainer, dented from years of use, and you fill it, rinsing the skins in the deep sink.
"Clark said something about school," Martha says, "you'll learn a lot more out here."
"Oh, yeah, dropped out," you turn and pick up the knife she set out with the thick board. "You know... just wasn't for me. My mom didn't want me sitting around and to be honest, I hate doing nothing."
"Lots to do around here," she assures.
She doesn't seem sad at the statement. She seems excited for your help. You're almost relieved as you expected cow dung and horse flies.
"I'll be sure to carry my weight," you promise as you start chopping.
"Mm, how sweet you are," she trills, "I see why Clark brought you here."
"Uh, yeah, I'd hate to let him down. And it's a far way from home."
"Why, you're grown. Not really meant to be home, is it? Finding your way like we all do," she hums and fills a pot with water, covering the corn cobs.
Before she can attempt to lift it, you're at her side, "let me, please."
"Oh, dang, you are just like, Clark," she mutters "I'm not out to pasture just yet."
"I know, but... it's heavy even for me," you assure her and show your effort as you carry the pot to the stove.
"Mmm, still my house," she frowns and backs up. "Well, when I was your age, me and Jonathan were married for a while. Couple years but... no kids. Not til Clark came along."
"Oh? How old were you when... when you had him?" You ask out if courtesy. You peek at her. You're not sure of her age and you're not bold enough to guess. Clark has to be at least in his mid-30s.
"Oh, yes, about his age now," she answers as if reading your mind. "He's mine. Ours. Not by blood. Could never... you know..." she looks grim as she lowers her chin, "all the same, me and Jonathan never saw him as anything but ours."
"Adopted?" You wonder.
"Think we were meant to wait for him," she perks up, "anyway, how can I be sad with such a good son? Don't ya think?"
"Yes, Clark is very nice," you agree.
"Sweet boy," she preens, "strong, gentle, smart." She clasps her hands together, "I'm sure I don't need to say it."
"Mm, uh huh," you murmur, not really sure what she means.
“I know a lovely idea,” she says, “I have the meat marinating so why don’t you take him some of my sun tea? It’s his favourite.”
“Ah, um, sure, I can do that.”
“And take your time. You don’t gotta stay inside all day,” she chimes.
“There’s a pitcher in the fridge. Put some ice in before you rush off. Have some yourself if you like.”
You take the task as an opportunity to see more of the farm You pour a glass of the dark iced tea and add a few cubes of ice. Martha watches you go with a bright expression that leaves you a bit uneasy. It’s just her way, you guess. Maybe it’s a part of her condition. Clark mentioned she wasn’t quite herself.
You head out and stop at the top step of the porch. You realise, you don’t know where to look for him. Instead, you look out at the fields and the barn, and the meeting of blue and green off on the horizon. It’s beautiful. You think this is what it feels like to have your breath taken away.
“Hey,” Clark startles you as he appears. “Dinner already?”
“Um, just tea, your mom sent it out,” you come down the steps to meet him. His skin glistens in sweat that dampens the edges of his shirt. The fabric clings to the thick muscles beneath.
“Thanks, you have any?” He accepts the glass and gulps deeply.
“Not yet, maybe with dinner.”
“How’s ma doing?”
“Fine, fine. I’m just helping her. She seems happy.”
“She would be,” he shrugs, “always wanted a daughter. Spoiled me for sure but I know. She would’ve done well with one.”
“Yeah, uh, but she loves you.”
“Well, yeah, but every mother wants a daughter,” he says, “what about you? How are you settling in?”
“Um, good. It’s... different.”
“For now,” he says, “but you’ll get used to it.”
#clark kent#dark clark kent#dark!clark kent#clark kent x reader#series#drabble#dcu#superman#country rose
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Remember Me | Din Djarin
The account where I found the gif @tomshiddles
**WARNINGS**: Non-canon, no y/n (Crystalia/ Nickname as Cala: When your father noticed your abilities, he made a deal with Ahsoka, thinking that a Jedi should train you. You trained for three or four years, but Ahsoka had to leave.), Fluff, Soft Sex, Toxic, Obsession, Age Gap, Erotic, !!+18 Only!!, Death, Drama.
English is not my native language. I am just trying to improve my writing skills. So I apologize for any mistakes I made.
Word: 4k∼
Pre-Story: You are a princess. A warrior princess from a rich planet. You had a happy life until Moff Gideon invaded your planet. You learned that Moff Gideon wanted to marry you when he was collaborating with your family. So you ran away and found Din Djarin to get revenge and kill him. You knew about the war they had with Moff Gideon back then. But it was out of business, you fell in love. You were going to get married after the planet was saved. You gave up your right to the throne.
Although all the Mandalorians helped you save the planet, Moff Gideon understood the bond between you and Din Djarin and was tempted to kill you. He distracted Din Djarin so that you were alone, and eventually managed to kill you in the duel you had. Moff Gideon did not leave your lifeless body alone and took it with him as he boarded the ship.
Note: You've never seen Din's face.
Please leave comment and be my inspration :)))
You were playing with Grogu on your lap. Since Din couldn’t take care of you while you were on your way to the Mandalorian planet with the Razor Crest, it was up to you to find various games for the boy. You didn't want him to forget his powers, even though he didn't choose that path, he was a great Jedi to you. You always tried to keep what he learned fresh in the name of gaming. Grogu was an orphan. After Din adopted him, he had a father. Now had a mother too. His loneliness evolved from being an orphan to an adoring family.
You held your hand up in the air, just out of reach. You were throwing the metal ball you had hidden in your palm somewhere, waiting for him to stop it with his telekinesis ability and take it, encouraging him. When he finally caught it right in the air, you shouted with joy.
"You were amazing, Grogu!"
Din turned to you as soon as he heard the joyful scream. It might not have been possible to see his face through his helmet, but his voice showed how excited he was.
"I knew you would do it! You keep doing better!"
As a parent, you were so proud of your son. Grogu was smiling and cooing.
When Din looked back to the road, he thought about how lucky he was. You both brought color and joy to his lonely life. You taught him qualities he didn't know about himself. Hours later, this happy family portrait of yours would become official.
You stopped playing with Grogu and called out to Din. “How much is left, darling?"
"It's almost there. We'll be there soon."
You stood up, placing Grogu on the couch and fastening his seat belt before you approached Din and grabbed his shoulder, got support by him as the Razor Crest shook slightly.
Din spoke up before you could. “Once we get there, we’ll both be leaving our old lives behind. Are you ready for that?” he asked in an unsure tone without waiting for an answer. “You know me, but you’ve never seen me in person. What if you don’t like the man under the helmet? Don’t you ever think about that? Young ladies care about that.”
Grogu's ears perked up as soon as he heard Din's question. He was too young to understand what was going on, but he was smart enough to understand that it was an important matter and that it concerned the attraction between the two of you. That was why you didn't want to get into such topics around the boy. You patted his shoulder over the pauldron and smiled.
"As long as no Wookie comes out of the helmet, you'll be fine."
"No, I can't be that hairy," he said, returning your joke.
But he was serious in his question. Since he couldn't get the answer he wanted from you, his anxiety increased. Although he seemed to have forgotten about it, in the back of his mind, whether you would like him when you saw him or not was being processed. Many times he wanted to take off his helmet with him. But he didn't want to go out of his way again. Otherwise, he would be too dirty to wash in the living waters. But when you died, he couldn't stand the pain and took off his helmet. He was alone. After Moff Gideon killed you and boarded the ship with your body, Din was on his knees, hugging your lifeless body in his mind. The mourning lasted for days, weeks and months. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so strict, he thought. Then you would know who he was and decide to fall in love accordingly.
Din Djarin didn’t even notice they had reached the planet as he struggled with his “if onlys.” That was until you tapped him on the shoulder and took your place in the chair.
“Here we are!” You picked up Grogu.
Din winced and readied the ship for entry into Mandalorian’s atmosphere.
As you descended into the vast courtyard of the Razor Crest palace, you saw Bo Katan herself coming to greet you. You wanted to get Grogu into his vehicle and get downstairs as quickly as possible, but he had no intention of letting go of your arms. Din said in a tone of happiness,
“He missed you more than I thought. Let’s go down.”
You were moving forward as the passageway hatch opened downwards. Bo Katan still couldn’t believe she was seeing you. It was more logical that Din had gone mad. She hadn’t even considered the possibility that you would leave the ship. The last time she saw you was when your hologramic lifeless body was adorned with Auricula flowers in the coffin. She remembered how devastated Djarin had been, and he had followed your lifeless body to make it comfortable.
What kind of a greeting would seem more sincere? Maybe it would be more appropriate to pretend that none of this had happened and greet the 'woman her friend is going to marry'. He has already begun the greeting ceremony by alienating the word 'care'.
"You've finally made it. We've all been waiting for you."
Din spoke up. "It's good to be here, Bo Katan."
Bo Katan looked at you and Grogu. You still loved each other very much. So you weren’t just a ghost. You were standing in front of her, real flesh and blood.
She shook your hand. “Princess Crystalia, I hope you find our planet for favorable your wedding ceremony favorable. Our ancestors have strived to continue their traditions for centuries. It is an honor for us to be a part of one of these.”
You smiled. “The honor is mine, my lady.”
Since you both came from noble lineage, you knew the protocols and developed your style in a balanced way.
Yet Bo Katan’s friendly demeanor was tinged with meaningful looks. “I’m sorry there’s no wedding dress. Din’s announcement that you were alive had already surprised us, but the news that you were getting married two days ago caught us off guard.”
"No problem. I guess it didn't seem normal to be married in a white dress among Mandalorians," you answered.
"For a nation that has dedicated its entire life to war, yes," she replied. As you walked through the palace corridors, she said, "Everyone is here. They are waiting for you to swear an oath of allegiance. You will see them all at the banquet."
When you entered the throne room, The Armorer was waiting for you as the person who will marry you. Welcomed you.
Your gaze was strange. "Will we be alone when the promises are made?"
If you were Mandalorian, you didn't even have to be in the same room when you swore your oath of allegiance with the person you were going to marry. All you had to do was know the promises and accept them. Everything had to be as simple and private as possible. Only after the promises were made would the others join in and a feast be held.
The Armorer answered. "Of course, this is your special moment, and you must spend your first night in the living waters, as compensation for seeing Din Djarin without his helmet for the first time. Thus will your marriage be consummated."
As you looked at her in surprise, Djarin spoke up. "I didn't expect such a big organization, to be honest."
Bo Katan glanced at Djarin. It was impossible not to notice the mischievous smile on his face. “You’re marrying a noblewoman. Of course there had to be some showiness, right?”
Grogu was looking at you with question marks next to him, aware of the tension. You locked eyes. The nervousness that fed his curious gaze had fueled Bo Katan's sense of conscience. Se turned to him and winked.
"It's okay, Grogu! Mom and Dad will be making a promise to each other in a moment."
The person who would perform your wedding would be the leader of Djarin's clan, and the person who will witness your words will of course be the Mandalorian queen. Bo Katan climbed the stairs and stood in front of her throne. She began her speech by explaining the reason for your being here and her duties as queen.
Your head was slightly bowed, as you should have shown respect to your queen. Din turned his head to you as Lady Kryze continued speaking. You agreed to follow the Mandalorian teachings in order to marry him. It was a source of pride. The fact that the woman he loved was there to support him on his own path made him even more devoted to his love. He had lost you once, never again, he told himself. He would never lose you.
When The Armorer asked you to repeat the words, Din turned his head toward her, so caught up in the perfection of a lifetime with you that he flinched.
“Together we are one,” she said, and you felt uneasy as you repeated it. You were not well versed in Mandalorian culture. “When we are apart, we are one,” Din repeated, tensing with excitement at the prospect of removing his helmet. “We share everything,” Grogu grinned, watching you as you repeated. “We will raise warriors!” you repeated.
Bo Katan, "Princess Cala, you are now Din Djarin's future wife. Your name is Din Cala from now on!"
Taking a deep breath, you turned to Din. You were now officially married. You would fight together, raising your adopted son Grogu. Of course, you had something else on your mind: the moment had come for him to remove his helmet. You would physically see the man you married. You had a smile on your face that showed his anticipation.
The Armorer says, "You can go to the living waters whenever you want."
Djarin bowed his head in agreement. “This is the way!”
You smiled at Djarin expectantly.
Djarin said, "You can see it after the banquet when we are alone."
"Okay then," you said with dissatisfaction and together you went to the dining hall where the banquet would be held.
Finally, you were at the steps of the living waters while they continued their feast. Some Mandalorians were also taking care of Grogu. No one could disturb you here. Feeling the mystical energy of the sacred waters to your cells while being with each other on your first night would complete your marriage.
You stood between the mine walls, looking at each other.
"Din, are you really sure about this? I mean, is it right for us to be here? For the intercourse."
Din spoke up. He took your hands and said,
"Cala, in the presence of the living waters we will belong to each other. There could not be a more perfect moment. If you are ready, of course."
You raised your eyebrows. “Ready for what? To see the man under the helmet, or for you to touch me?”
Djarin didn't know what to say. He was slurring his words, stuttering. He was trying to remain secretive.
You stepped closer. "You know what, Din Djarin? I never expected to see you like this."
"What do you mean?"
"You've always been a mysterious man. Sometimes I thought you were an emotionless droid. But now I see the excited man under the helmet," you said and grinned. "It gives me pleasure to surprise you."
"I'm not excited or anything," Djarin said, his tone half angry, half indifferent. "I just don't want to disappoint a young woman. That's all." He was a hunter! There was no job he hadn't taken on for credit in his day. How strange that the truly emotionless, bounty hunter was now showing his emotional vulnerability in the presence of a young Jedi. He was looking for the old Djarin. Where was he, really?
You rolled your eyes and gave him a smug look. “Is that why the topic always comes down to the helmet?”
Djarin got angry. He continued to act indifferent. "Think whatever you want. Of course, I respect that a young girl thinks such things to satisfy her ego." He said.
You frowned. You looked much angrier than he did. You stood right in front of him with determined steps. You were looking at his helmet with the same determination. Finally, Djarin stopped, realizing his stupidity.
"Come on Cala. Take off the helmet."
Excluding the times when you were thought to be dead, you had been together for a year and a half and you had lost hope of ever seeing Djarin. To love without seeing him... To fall in love with his character and soul without discriminating between handsome, ugly, old, young, wouldn't that be the most innocent love in the world? That's why Djarin surrendered himself to you. The woman he fell in love with wasn't someone who would care about material values. That's why he married you, that's why he opened the doors of secrets wide open and let his guard down.
Djarin closed his eyes as he reached for the helmet. This would be the first time you would make real eye contact. You would hear his voice changing under the helmet in its purest form for the first time. How could it not be exciting? It was the most special moment.
You slowly took off his helmet. Djarin had been curious about your reaction the moment your eyes met. He was good at hiding his emotions, but you weren’t much different.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he asked suspiciously.
You placed the helmet between your arm and waist and brought your other hand to Djarin’s cheek. When your fingers touched his skin, he was reminded of how much he desired you, how hungry he was for you. It was like a dying madman finding an oasis in the desert.
The fact that you still didn't say a word was causing him to get lost in the dark well of the unknown. Just as he was about to repeat the same question to you with his lips parted, you approached him and pressed your lips to his gently. You felt the warmth of his skin on you. After the long kiss, you stepped back.
Djarin was grateful for the love you had shown him. “I guess that explains it all,” he said. He never lost his reserved demeanor, unable to tell you how he felt. The teachings he had spent on the Mandalorian path had taken some of his abilities from him, involuntarily. But the feelings were permanent. This time, he was the one who made the first move. He was much more passionate now. His hands slowly moved up from your hands, following your arms to your neck, and from there he continued to kiss you, holding your face tightly. His moist kiss was so passionate that you didn’t even notice the loud sound of Beskar steel hitting the ground when you forgot about the helmet you had under your arm and hugged him. The sound echoed off the walls of the cave, though. You just continued, not caring if anyone heard.
Djarin moved a few inches away and whispered to your lips. "I never expected this day to come. But you are in front of me, my skin touching yours," he said and caressed your jawbone and moved towards lower lip again. He left bites and kisses without hurting your, while at the same time he was taking off your white waistbands. After taking his place on the fabric step, it was your war costume's turn. Leaving your lips and slowly placing kisses under your chin, his long arms found your back. He started to untie your clothes. His breath was trembling with excitement. From the day he fell in love with you until the day he tasted his death, your skins were longing for each other.
As he pulled away from you and began to pull your clothes down, he was admiring the beauty of your skin, but you averted your eyes in embarrassment.
He frowned and stopped pulling back the fabric - just as he was about to see her breasts. "We can stop whenever you want, Cala, it's okay."
Your lips parted, and you looked as if you were trying to explain yourself in a hurry.
"No, please don't stop. I just think I got excited about a man I'm seeing for the first time."
"Okay then," he said, and Djarin continued to take off her clothing. Your breasts were revealed first. The nipples were already hard, waiting to be sucked by Djarin. Then he saw your stomach and groin. He was amazed by the velvety feel of your skin. He dropped to one knee as he peeled it down. You were looking down at him, at what he was doing.
Djarin was looking at his groin. His hands suddenly slid down to your waist, careful and gentle, as if he were holding a delicate flower.
The man on his knees in front of you, kissing your groin, seemed to be performing a religious ritual. He could feel the Mandalorian faith on his skin, as if his lips were worshipping you as they touched you. He was in awe of everything about you. He was intoxicated. He could only come to himself when he flinched when his warm breath touched his skin. He untied your boots and caressed your feet, taking them out. He got up from his knees and stood in front of you. You were completely naked.
"It's your turn," he said. He wanted you to undress him.
You started taking off his armor one by one. You looked into his eyes as you took off his pauldron. You thought he was going to look at your body but he waited a long time to actually meet your eyes. He was happy for you to see him. He was completely special to the two of you.
You took his hand and pulled off his glove, bringing it to your chest. Your gaze was Djarin’s aphrodisiac. You wore a naughty boy grin as if what you were about to experience was a great sin.
You tossed the gloves aside and brought his hands up to your lips, kissing the tips of his fingers.
Djarin took this gesture as a sign of respect. "You know these hands are going to make you moan with pleasure in a moment, right?" he asked.
You nodded. "I know."
Djarin and you were now completely naked. The hand you held was now supporting you as you descended the steps. You stood side by side. You could not take your eyes off each other as the sacred waters slowly rose from your feet. You were now in the sacred waters up to your waist.
The heat from your sexual desire radiating from your groins and spreading throughout your body combined with the coolness of the water and you shivered.
Djarin grabbed you by the waist and pulled you to him. His wet hands reached your cheek. His lips came to life on yours again. The day you died came to mind as they made love, and this made Din Djarin become much more passionate when they were in a relationship. Because he had never confessed his love to you. He regretted it. He should not make such a mistake again.
Thanks to the buoyancy of the water, you wrapped your legs around his waist very comfortably. As your bodies moved aesthetically as if they were twisting with pleasure, the waves of water were wetting you all over. You were soaked as your tongues danced with each other. The drops of water sliding down your forehead were cooling your lips, making them much more slippery; feeling your sensitive skin deeply was fueling your hunger.
Djarin's hands were exploring your body. He was holding hard by the hips, caressing you. You were so plump that you overflowed from his palm. He anticipated the pleasure he would soon experience when he fucked you.
"Oh, Cala! You have such beautiful skin! I know we were made for each other."
One of his hands suddenly went to your breast. When he stimulated your pointed nipple, you moaned without taking your lips off his. His erection had already accelerated with your moaning. You felt a hardness right on your vulva. He was pressing on your clit, forcing you. You expected his cock to be thick, but you were surprised by its length. You grinned, showing your teeth.
"Tell me, how do I take it in? It's going to hurt, isn't it?"
Djarin moved his hand from her breast to her vulva and began to caress it. "Don't worry, once I get you ready, you won't mind me coming in."
His cock was now pressing against your vagina. The arousal factor applied from two places caused you to frown, burying your face in his neck, and moan loudly.
"Cala, you moan so wonderfully, moaning for me only incites my lust more."
He moved his hand from your hip to your hair and pulled you closer to him. His face found your cheeks, nibbling on them little by little, while his other hand continued to quickly caress your inner lips.
When you least expected it, he grabbed your waist, lifted your body a few inches up, and sat you on his lap again, allowing his penis to enter your vagina. Your eyes widened in surprise. A weak scream escaped your lips. Your hands were gripping his shoulders tightly. Your nails dug into his skin. Din Djarin was no different. He moaned along with you.
"Damn it Cala! I didn't think it would be this tight."
It was as if your vagina and his penis were trying to get used to each other. It was more pleasure than you could handle.
You asked breathlessly, but moans were escaping your lips with every word. “Aren’t you happy with this?”
"I'm actually very pleased!" he replied. It was impossible not to notice the pleasure on his face. He grabbed your hips again and started fucking you, slowly moving you up and down. Your genitals felt the pleasure equally, down to the smallest detail. It was impossible for you to speed up. You were shaking every time he lifted you up and down his lap. Your muscles could not resist any longer, and your body lay down on the surface of the water. Your back met the coldness of the living waters. Your hair was moving on the surface as the water rippled. In fact, the water flowing from your wet hair was sliding down your spine, making you shiver. Djarin was slowly increasing his pace and it felt like he couldn't hold back. But he had to hold himself back, he had to hold on. The glorious taste he was getting made him caress your breasts tightly.
You had lost yourself in each other's skin as if this was your last time making love. Your love was roaming in your veins and coming to life in your groins. Djarin pulled your body closer to his. He continued to bite your ears and neck. You could hear him breathing heavily. He was drawing circles on your clitoris, suddenly applying too much pressure, making you contract. Then he was surprising you with up and down movements. You were so full, so pleased, that your body could not stand it anymore and you threw yourself forward. You wrapped your arms around his neck. Your face looked like you were in pain, but everything was from pleasure.
As you got closer to your orgasm, you noticed Din Djarin was getting emotional. He wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly as he continued to move inside you.
"I love you, baby. I love you more than you could ever imagine."
You were completely in love with Dinjarin.
"I love you too," you said in breathlessly. "I love you too, my love."
Djarin cried out your name as he orgasmed hip muscles contracted, his hands squeezed your skin so hard it hurt. You came right after Djarin. Your body was still shaking, responding to the orgasm. He pulled his penis out of your vagina and his semen mixed with the living waters inside you. Then, without letting you out of his arms, he carried you to the shore and collapsed next to you, the wet stone was cold, thanks to sex, your burning sensitive skin felt the texture more. Djarin stared at the water drops glistening on her smooth skin.
Holding your cheek. "How are you feeling?"
"Strange."
Djarin frowned. “What does this mean?”
"I never imagined I would make love in the waters of a mine." you smiled.
After that night, you spent a few more days in the Mandalorian palace. Grogu was happy with his parents' happiness. He was spreading joy to those around him. The bad days he had were left behind with you, he had made peace with his memories.
In the palace courtyard, you and Djarin were teaching him to be a good warrior, you were helping him develop his Jedi powers, and Djarin was introducing him to Mandalorian weapons.
Some nights, he would get scared because of the bad nightmares he had. Since you were both Jedi who knew how to manipulate the force, you would go to Grogu's room, feeling his fear. One night, it happened again. You entered Grogu's room and woke him up, hugging and telling him you were with him. At that moment, Din Djarin appeared at the door.
"He can sleep next to us tonight. What do you say?"
You looked towards the door as you picked up Grogu and rubbed his back. “I think this will be good.”
The three of you were now lying on the bed, Grogu in the middle of you, his eyes not showing the slightest sign of sleep.
"Come on, Grogu. You need to sleep," he said.
You offered with a satisfied grin. “How about you tell him one of your Mandalorian tales?”
Djarin sat up and looked at you. “Why should I tell? You’re the princess. I’m sure your nannies told you many fairy tales when you were little.”
You switched your position to Djarin and Grogu.
"Yes, they did. Now I want to listen to you."
Djarin gave in. "Okay, okay. I'll get started."
You were both listening to the story he told with curious eyes. The soothing tone of his voice had put you to sleep in a short time. He heard your snores at the most exciting part of the story. He muttered to himself. "Did you fall asleep that quickly? Anyway, good night and sweet dreams." He kissed the child on the cheek and you on the lips, then he put the blanket on you and watched how sweetly you slept for a while. He didn't need sleep. Besides, watching his wife and child rested him both mentally and physically.
A few hours after the sunlight had lit up the sky, Djarin saw the Imperial ship appear in the sky. He knew exactly who it belonged to. He quickly got up and began to put on his armor. The sound of Beskar steel woke you. You looked at Djarin, rubbing your eyes. “What’s going on?”
"We'll find out soon," he said.
The sound of the ship reached your ears. You got out of bed and headed towards the window. Your heart was beating rapidly, your breathing becoming irregular. “He came for me,” you muttered to yourself. The long absence of news from him had led you to assume he was dead. But it was Moff Gideon who stepped out of the gate shortly after the ship landed in the courtyard.
Din commanded as he walked out of the room with stiff and fast steps. "Crystalia! You and Grogu will stay here. I'll deal with him."
Of course, you didn’t listen to him. You put on your clothes and followed him. The Mandalorians had already appeared in the courtyard, their weapons trained on Gideon. While he was trying to negotiate with Lady Kryze, Djarin appeared.
"What are you doing here! You should be dead already!"
Gideon replied with his fake smile.
"But as you can see, I'm not dead. I'm more alive than ever. There's a lot of fake news these days, isn't there?"
Djarin knew that Moff Gideon had a sickening attachment to you. He had heard of your marriage, of course. He looked like he was going mad. He would kill her without mercy if she made the slightest move. You were his, no one could tear you apart. “What do you want from us? Wasn’t your defeat in our last encounter enough!”
Gideon looked at you standing behind Din Djarin. “I didn’t come here to cause trouble. I came to take what is mine.”
You looked at Djarin guiltily, Grogu in your arms. The tears in your eyes were not fearful, but regretful.
Djarin shouted with hatred. "Does it belong to you? We got married, now leave her alone!"
Gideon started to approach you.
“Being married doesn’t change the fact that Crystalia was made for me,” he said and stopped right in front of Djarin. You sighed in fear as he held the remote control in his hand at eye level.
"No!"
Lady Kryze, like the others, could not understand the worry on his face. The secret behind his death was hidden in his current reaction; it was clearly visible.
Djarin couldn't understand. Not your reaction, not the remote control Gideon was holding in his hand. "Whatever nonsense you're talking about, just say it clearly! I'm out of patience."
"The woman you married is nothing more than a clone created using Crystalia's DNA. Doctor Pershing and I created her so that her power would be much more intense than the real Crystalia's. When I became the ruler of the Empire, I was going to make her my queen and put her in charge of my army."
Djarin couldn't make sense of what Moff Gideon was telling him. You were Crystalia. Your looks, your voice, your personality. This couldn't be true. He turned to you.
" Cala! What is all this? Can you explain it to me!"
You were crying heartily. You placed Grogu in the arms of a Mandalorian standing next to you. You were about to approach him and apologize when Moff Gideon continued speaking.
“Crystalia was in love with you. When we created her clone, we reprogrammed the synapses in her brain in the hopes that you would be Din Djarin’s enemy,” he raised his voice angrily and glared at you accusingly. “Yet despite this, her consciousness brought you and your relationship to light! She escaped from my base and lost track of you! She found you, Din Djarin! She was supposed to obey me. She was supposed to worship me! And yet I see my clone, whom I created, marry Din Djarin!”
You walked over to Djarin and grabbed his shoulders.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" you sobbed.
Djarin was disappointed. He had lost you for the second time. The real Crystalia's body was still lying in the lab. But the woman standing in front of him was also a clone derived from your genes, with your consciousness. You lied to her, but you made her feel like Crystalia. He couldn't decide whether to be sad or to thank you, the clone.
He took one of her hands and placed it over your heart. "Can you tell me this isn't real? I need it so bad, please tell me this isn't real, I'm begging you! You're not dead, are you?"
Moff Gideon spoke up. “Crystalia is dead, Mandalorian. I swore I would never reunite you, and I have fulfilled my oath. You no longer have a body to cry over. She was wasted on an incompetent clone in my lab. Fortunately, I have three more clones. They are waiting to breathe.”
Bo Katan Kryze gritted her teeth. "You're not evil, Gideon, you're sick!"
Moff Gideon looked at her grimly. “Perhaps. But I came here to fix the mistake I made,” he said, and pressed the button on his remote. “Goodbye once more, my love.”
Your body slowly began to transform into energy. You were turning into a ghost, your body becoming transparent as your cells lost their tangibility and merged with nature. Djarin shouted, panicking at the prospect of losing you once more as he lost the sensation of your skin. “No! Cala!”
"If even a part of me belongs to the real Crystalia, then she loved Din Djarin more than anything in the world," you said. Those were your last words, and when your body was completely gone, Din cried out in great pain. He had already suffered greatly from losing you. Losing you again was almost enough to make him lose his mind. He fell to his knees and pounded the ground. His cries still echoed off the palace walls. Grogu landed on the ground and jumped into Djarin's arms, sharing his sadness with his father.
Moff Gideon may have been glad to have brought his mission, but Din Djarin's suffering gave him a special kind of pleasure.
"What a shame," he said and turned around and got back into his ship. As he left, some Mandalorians wanted to make him pay for what he did, but Bo Katan said that the current situation was not ready for that. This was revenge that would have to be taken later.
#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal#din djarin#din dijarin x reader#din dijarin fanfiction#din djarin smut#din djarin x female reader#fluff#one shot
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Hi, any chance you have some Cats Among Wolves fluff stashed away that you might wish to share? Or just fluff written in the regular witcher time (not modern)? Birthdays are always full of depression and anxiety and rereading my favourite fics just isn't working today.
Sorry it's taken me a little while to answer, but here's a fluffy little snippet from the Letho fic:
He glances at Gaetan. “I would not make this offer to any Cat alpha save the very few who have earned the goodwill of our Cats, for instance. But if you will swear to bring no harm to Kaer Morhen, our halls are open to you, winter or summer, when you need shelter and sanctuary.” Letho stares. “No shit?” “Gaetan trusts you,” Eskel says calmly. “And he does not trust easily. And -” he shrugs. “It’s not all altruistic. Up until Lambert brought Aiden home, Kaer Morhen was - gods, we rattled around in it like a handful of peas in a cauldron. It was fucking awful some years, turning down a corridor and remembering which brothers lived there and would never come home again. But now we’ve got three Cats and a bard and it’s starting to feel a little less empty. We’d like to have a bigger pack again. We can’t make more Wolves, but…” He trails off and shrugs. “But you can adopt,” Letho says slowly.
I hope your birthday was calm and as happy as possible!
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