#pedro pascal soulmate au | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harryleatherfit · 2 years ago

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Upper East Side: AU: Frankie Morales

Chapter 6: The Box

word count: 6600

warning: MATURE, dni if not 18+, smut, fingering, oral f! receiving, over stimulation, sex club, heavy petting 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 probably more so let me know if anything is missing

this is not revised or looked over (sorry) and kinda my first time writing smut… so… but i tried 🫶

🪩Main Master List🪩 Series Master List🪩

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Frankie POV

The professors decided to stay late for the last day of auditions, finalizing the cast list that would be put up the next day.

It was difficult for them to pick the roles, so many talented students and to only give 15 characters. They all had to weigh the highs and lows. They couldn’t give the role to the obvious person, they had to think of who would take it seriously for a college broadway production.

The 2 Macbeths would be the face of Broadway, and they would have to be able to keep up with the early stardom. These 2 would have to keep up with their studies but put the production as their number one priority. They couldn’t think of seniority but pure talent before their eyes.

Papers were spread over conference tables, coffee was brought on the dot every hour, videotaped monologues were rerun a thousand times. Balls of paper were thrown all over the floor.

“Ok team, it’s nearing midnight what are we thinking about the Macbeths?” Ms. Roylance asks.

There were a few groans from around the room, everyone has been casted except for the duo.

“Starting with Macbeth,” She writes on a board.

“I feel Davis had emotion in his stance, his reactions to what Lady M would say were on the dot, but I feel like something was missing.” Benny says.

“Yeah he’s a great choice, but I feel like he wouldn't be Broadway ready, I mean every magazine will write about this play, so we do have to pick the best we have.” Fish chimes in.

“Ok Davis, ⅔ points.” Ms. Roylance writes on the board.

“What about Mattias, that boy is a star.” Ironhead says. “He has the passion, he has the pretty boy look, he can act.”

“And he’s got the body, he's a good dancer!” Cheot adds.

“I mean Roylance, he’s our Macbeth. He can work with anyone, he’s calm and controlled and his monologue hits every spot we’re looking for. All you have to do is say yes.” Ironhead twirls his fingers together in excitement.

“Ok fine, Mattias is our star.” She puts his name in red on the board, it’s final. “And for our lovely ladies, Lady Mac, there's quite a handful. There's McKayla, Kelsey, Sarah, Emma, our North Carolina transfer, Nina-”

Fish heard Pope bring up you and he immediately felt engaged in the conversation again.

“About Nina, ma’am.” Pope interrupts. “I didn’t think to say anything about it now since it was before her audition, but I was walking up to the theater doors to go to the bathroom and I overheard Nina talking to our new student… and it wasn’t the most humane conversation.” He sank into his chair.

Fish felt the heat in his face rise, the room felt insufferable. He wanted to claw away from his chair and find you, but he couldn’t.

“Why didn’t you tell me immediately?” Ms. Roylance asks.

“I didn’t think of it much because this is always how Nina has been since her freshman year, her dad paying her way through this school and scaring away fresh talent because, honestly we let her but this time she crossed a line. She was calling her names, saying she needed plastic surgery, and that she would get her kicked out if she got the part over Nina.”

That’s funny, that bitch genuinely looks like a catfish with all that plastic in her face, worse than a kardashian- Frankie thought to himself.

“But the worst part was she didn’t even respond, she just stood there in front of Nina taking everything in. She looked petrified and I’m glad I intervened when I did. Personally I think she shouldn’t even be offered another role again for the rest of her senior year, but I understand with her father, the legality of that would be extremely tough.”

She didn’t speak up to Nina? Why not?

Fish felt his heart drop. Nina had the audacity to belittle you? Nina thinks she can use her dad and his power to hurt you, replace you?

He would do anything in his power, in his position and with his connections to get that girl kicked the fuck out. He didn’t care, he would use his power in this damned school and city to make sure she suffered for what she did to you.

“Pope why didn’t you say anything, man?” Benny says.

“I really didn’t think anything of it and I remembered, I’m sorry but to what I heard I think it’s serious. What does everyone else think?”

Fish rattles up his hoarse voice, “We kick the girl out for all I care, I can deal with her dad. We should’ve kicked her out since day one and taken our chances.”

Roylance and Cheot give him a look, they both know they couldn’t have done that.

“I say we give the roll to our new girl.” Redfly speaks up. “Listen, we wouldn’t have to kick Nina out because we know the hellhole her dad would put NYU through, but I mean that scream c’mon, the tears, her performance. The message she gave to us. She’s a talented performer and we all know this from last spring. We saw a new Hollywood star on some random stage. So we give it to her solely because she has proved herself that she has what it takes.” He goes on. “Roylance we know Mattias will work well with her, they already have stage chemistry, this will work.”

“And Nina couldn’t even cry, she was shaking violently like a little dog. Do we collectively want to give this role to that?” Ironhead asks.

“I agree with you, we are giving her the role, but how do we ease the cast list? What is our game plan for Nina’s dad? How will we protect our new Hollywood? We’re aware of what Nina can do and what her father can hide.”

“You can make sure Nina will never talk to her in your classes, for sure as hell I will make sure in my voice class Nina will not lay her eyes on her.” Benny states.

“And for sure as hell I’ll tell her friend Laylah, who is our Head of Makeup, to keep an eye on her and be with her 24/7.” Redfly puts. “And Cheot can ask Laylah how she is in her dance classes.”

I know for damn fucking sure that evil little bitch will not go near my girl.

Roylance moves her head side to side thinking, “Okay with our work as human beings, and as teachers..” She circles your name on the board next to Mattias’s,”We have the house of Macbeth then!”

The teachers get up from their seats and claps are heard all around the room.

--------------

“Wake up!” Laylah is shaking you awake. “Wake up! The cast list is out. It’s on the school bulletin board, we need to hurry!’

“Oh jesus.” Laylah, Rose and Hannah all get their shoes on and you don’t even bother, grabbing the nearest pair of slides.

Laylah is near hauling you across the campus, you need fucking coffee.

In the distance you see a horde of people crowded around the arts bulletin board. It's a cold Saturday morning and it's too early to even care what you look like.

As you get closer your heart starts to race again, but with excitement. No matter what you’ll be happy with the results.

You can see all the arts professors standing in a line not far from the crowd but just observing. Most likely there to condole people or to answer questions about rehearsals.

He wasn’t there.

Everyone around the paper is now starting to open an entrance, just staring at you. What for?

You read the tiny little script, Mattias is Macbeth and you look one level down…

“OH MY GOD, YOU FUCKING GOD LADY MAC I KNEW YOU WOULD.” Laylah screams.

Hannah, Rose and Laylah all bombard you with a group hug and you don’t even know what to say. You give your thank yous, and everyone around you congratulates you.

“I don’t even believe it, I can’t believe I have a lead here.” You exclaim.

Your heart fills with a swarm of liquid joy, even in the cold you feel like the sun. You immediately feel every worry go away in your body, you’re happy. You can pocket this moment forever.

You immediately think of the rehearsals, the makeup and costumes. Getting to perform on broadway. Your face on a New York CIty billboard. Every moment in your life has built up for this, and you stop to really think about everything you have done to get you here.

You think of Frankie and how he even helped you with your monologue. He taught you to not hold back for anything.

And instantaneously, you feel hands shove you to the side. It’s Nina.

The group of people move behind her as she looks at the bulletin board. She didn’t even make it. Not as an ensemble member, a small featured character. Nothing.

She shrieks and stomps and immediately turns to you. Behind her, you see a guy behind her trying to console her, probably her rich boyfriend that couldn’t give a shit less if she got in or not. He’s probably with her for her father.

“I will fucking end-” She starts to yell in front of everyone.

“Sorry to interrupt but can I steal her for a second?” Ms. Roylance asks.

Thank god. You could not have another episode of Nina telling you how horrible you are. You couldn’t take it.

“No problem, Ms. Roylance take your sweet time, I’m gonna wait here with my boyfriend over there after you talk with her, if I may talk to you afterward?” She asks in a sweet slithering tone. She’s a fucking snake.

“Actually Nina, if we could, can we talk in class on Monday? I have a lot of planning to do this weekend for the rest of this semester. It'll be a lengthy meeting with all the arts teachers, as I hope you will understand the time constraint we are all under.” Roylance responds.

“Of course ma’am have a great weekend.” She walks away haltered and distraught. You felt like at that moment Nina would have done anything in her power to hurt you. You couldn’t have been more grateful for the teachers being there.

You walk with Ms. Roylance and to the professor circle near the arts hallway and they all congratulate you.

“How do you feel?” Mr. Miller asks.

“Shocked I guess? I can’t describe this feeling. I have absolutely no words.” You put your hands over your heart, “This is truly the best welcoming present I could’ve asked for.” Now you feel like you can fully express your win on getting Lady Macbeth.

“I genuinely don’t understand how this is even possible, and Mattias getting Macbeth feels perfect, but I can’t thank you enough, I don’t know how you can see me being on broadway in just some short months but-”

“No buts.” Mr Garcia smiles, “You are Lady Macbeth because you’re spectacular. You captured us in your audition, and we all know you have what it takes to be Lady Macbeth.”

“Picking Lady Macbeth was obvious, from the moment you stepped on that stage, we knew it would be you. You’re meticulous about your acting, and this is what the world needs to see. You’re a perfectionist and you won’t take anything less as an answer. You are the definition of Broadway ready.” Mr. Davis says.

You felt sick with the praises, you couldn’t stop smiling and putting your hands to your face. You could hear your friends in the distance giggling as they’re waiting for you- agreeing with the teachers.

“It wasn’t obvious it must have been so hard with all this talent here, I’m nervous for everything, I’m scared I won’t be as good as you all put me out to be.” You shy away from their eye contact.

“We know you’re good, trust me.” Ms.Cheot pipes up, “Even though you don’t dance, I saw some stuff of yours, and I only know the spring musical is waiting to have your name all over it.”

“But he really should've been here to tell you himself, but Mr. Morales really dug out for you. He said he saw you practice your monologue before your audition and said you improved when you didn’t have to. He kept going on about how he hasn’t seen your kind of talent in years. So purely we all agree you are one of a kind and you deserve this. Soak it in for today.” Mr. Miller 2.0 says.

And once again, he did something for you. You had chills on your arms just from that sentence alone. He has full control over you.

You laugh, “I promise I will soak it all in. If I may ask, when do rehearsals start?”

“Unfortunately we need to do a table read tomorrow at 10am, I’ll post the rehearsal calendar tonight for everyone. We’ll all be there to help work with everyone along with stage chemistry, but it won’t be too hard.”

Would you get to see Frankie?

“Thank you, I’ll see you all tomorrow. ” You start to walk off back to your friends, and Ms. Roylance grabs your shoulder, “I played Lady Macbeth when I was younger and I see you in me. You have this thing, I can’t explain it now but someday I will. Go home and sleep and come tomorrow with a fresh mind. And don’t pay any attention to that Nina girl, I’ll make sure she doesn’t bother you for the rest of this year.”

You smile at her and thank her all over again, appreciative of her actions with Nina.

You meet up with your friends again and they bombard you with questions as you walk back to your dorm.

------

“Ok so in celebration of our win tonight what do you think we should do tonight?” Rose asks.

“We could go to a nice restaurant, maybe a club?” Hannah replies.

“We could do a library and some coffee and come back here to watch movies, if anyone wants a mellow night.” Rose says.

“I don’t want a mellow night, I want a night to remember.” You unconsciously say, you did have your first rehearsal tomorrow, but nothing you can’t sober enough for. You’ve got your natural remedy for a mad hangover, it’s what a college student does.

“Oh my god, we have to check out The Box then!” Hannah rejoices.

“What's the box?” You and Laylah both ask.

“Calm your tits for this one, you're in for a wild ride,” Hannah gets up, “It's this super exclusive club, you can go there with a reservation or in the hope that they’ll just let you in but here’s the catch, it’s sex burlesque club. It’s fucking crazy and really damn expensive.”

“If it’s expensive, then we shouldn’t go.” You say.

“No, I’ll just use the credit card my dad gave me for college, I never use it so tonight we will treat ourselves.” Hannah insists. Oh yeah just your sweet daddies credit card for a sex club okay. “But be prepared, there's sometimes like orgies on stage.”

“Orgys on stage?” Laylah questions.

“I know it may sound weird but it’s a once in a lifetime experience. It’s an all exclusive club and so many celebrities go their for a night away and theres crazy fucking shit that happens there. People pee on eachother, people fuck eachother, you see people doing coke, people take acid, you see attendees strip, you sing and dance your face off, you go to the bathroom and fuck someone you see really hot. I once went in my freshman year here with a fake ID and on the stage these girls were like, making eachother squirt. It was the craziest fucking thing I saw with my eyes. I promise it’ll be a night we all will never forget.”

“I mean it’s the box guys, everyone has to go at least once before they leave New York, and we’ll get you home before you need to go to your rehearsal.” Rose prods at you.

This was your chance to take the night off, to be free. Fuck it.

“Oh fuck yeah we’re going.” You plead. You’re night, so make it yours.

“YES THAT’S MY GIRL.” Hannah hugs you, “ A warning though we all need to dress really nice but semi-slutty. The bouncers let you in on your vibe and your party size, luckily they let in parties of 4 often and we have the money and real ID’s to show. Plus we’re all pretty fucking hot.”

The perfect dress you own for this night, a sheer shimmer slip on dress that only covers your nipples and a slit of fabric to cover your pussy. For a burlesque show you’re going match that fucking vibe. Underneath you put on a set of lingerie that would keep any odors from lingering but was still covered in crystals and made your whole body shine.

You felt like a performer yourself, who fucking knows. Maybe you would be on that damn stage tonight. You needed to feel something after Frankie.

You hadn’t thought about him all day. You were going to see him tomorrow, but things would be awkward again, and when were you going to be alone again with him. In the off chance to ask him what that almost kiss was? Not to gain anything for yourself, but to just have an explanation.

Tonight would be your fill in from him.

“Hey you want to smoke before? Just to heighten the experience? You don’t have to though.” Laylah asks.

You turn to her, “Fuck you look amazing Lay, I mean breathtaking.” She was wearing a mesh golden short dress, and she had the same idea of you wearing lingerie underneath, showing off all your tattoos. “Pack the fucking bowl at this point, it’ll send me somewhere else this night that I want to relive forever.”

--------------

You get to the front of the line before the club with you, and notice how funny the bouncer looks. He’s trying to look scary to the common public, but to you he looks like a little fluffy unicorn.

He takes one look at you and your friends asks for ID and to look at a credit card. Hannah pulls it out and you drum roll in your head.

“Alright I suppose.” He says.

You kiss the big baldy unicorn and wish him the best night. You walk through the entrance and feel this storm of a new identity tacking onto you.

This is my night.

A hostess finds you and seats you in a private corner on the top floor near the stage, the ceilings are so high and the intimate room is illuminated in such a warm tone, you feel like you could pass out you're so happy.

“I have to hand you guys these stickers for your phone camera. We don’t allow any photography. If a staff member sees you taking a picture or taking off your sticker, we have to escort you out.” The hostess explains.

“So this is the nightclub where the celebs unleash their inner dirty?” What you asked felt so childish but it was a funny question, and you could barely think you were so high.

The hostess laughs and just walks away with your credit card.

“Girls were in for a long night.” Laylah roars out.

The music was already loud, a plate of dick shaped chocolate strawberries were ordered, and rounds of shots were taken. You didn’t take any, being crossed was not the night you wanted before your first rehearsal. A ginger ale would do just fine.

The middle of the bottom floor becomes a place for people to mosh as the music plays and you immediately feel drawn. Dancing is what your body craves. You head down the stairs and Laylah follows you.

A singer comes out onto the stage along with dancers, they are all barely dressed but their makeup is flawless. They are all spitting images of Roman gods. You couldn’t look away.

“Hi everyone I’m Eartheater and tonight we have a special song for you tonight.” She herself looked like Bella Hadid but on steroids. Her body was carved with the hands of the sun. “This is a shiny crowd tonight I see.” She says looking down at you and your friends. You cheer her on.

Every corner of the club was full. Everywhere you looked someone was moaning, people were touching each other, kissing. You weren’t bothered, people were giving affection to one another and it made you happy. If you were sober maybe it would’ve grossed you out but you looked up and saw 4 naked bodies, 2 hanging on the railing for dear life, oragasming the night away. You laughed so loud people smiled at you. The whole room felt like it was slow motion.

-----play Solid Liquid Gas, by Eartheater

“This song I actually thought of in this very room, and listening to it high makes my body tingle, so I hope you share that same experience with me tonight.”

She starts singing and immediately you’re taken away. This song alone could make you orgasm. It was sparkles speaking in your head and the base was felt in the core of your body. You were moving around in the crowd along Laylah, feeling the sweat accumulate all over you.

Your smile couldnt go away and your body rolled with the beat drops. Music high, makes your body go to outer space.

The dancers were all over and the room was so dimly lit, Eartheater dropped into the crowd and pulled you two up, “Give the crowd a show, pretty girls.” She smiled.

So you both continued to dance together, with the singer and the dancers. Never stopping, embracing the sensuality of the room, realizing this is a once in a lifetime experience. You could hear Rose and Hannah cheering for you both so loud.

Nobody knew you in this room, there were no phones. The disconnect turns you on, but you scan the crowd and see a group of men in the back, one that looks familiar to your heart.

It’s fucking Frankie.

He’s looking at you, taking a sip of his beer. He’s never seen you like this. He was with his friends that were also your teachers, but you didn't care. You couldn’t give less of a fuck if they all saw you at this club right now. Tomorrow you would most likey hate yourself for your fuck it mindset, but you could deny that was you on the stage.

Frankie was practically fucking you with his eyes, and you almost lost it. Right then and there if he walked up to the stage and fucked the life out of you, you wouldn’t have cared. No matter how high or not, you wanted him, you desired his touch. You would give this whole room a show if that meant you could be with him.

Your nipples hardened as he swept down your body. His expression turned into that downturned smile of his. He knew he was fucking with you. Laylah kept dancing around you, spraying a bottle of wine all over the stage and dancers. The room was moving at two frames per second but you told Laylah you were going to go to the bathroom.

“You’re sure I don’t need to come?”

“I’m sure, I just really need to piss.” You yell over the music.

You walk off the stage and keep your eyes on him, you just smile and look down. You wanted him to follow you, but would he take the ruse? Would he take that risk for you?

You get inside the bathroom and it's a bigger single stall and every wall is a mirror. You were surprised it was clean for a sex club. You check yourself in the mirror, all your makeup was off and your lingerie was still intact with your sheer dress. You felt lucky your makeup was sweat off and not smudged.

The door opens. You don’t look to the side of the mirror, and he’s standing in the doorway.

“That door opening is music to my ears.” You turn to him, “What are you doing at a sex club?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He’s wearing all leather and his usual trucker hat, his strong arms showing in his jacket. That itself makes your knees go weak.

His hair is ruffled as always and his scruff makes him look so hot. His presence made the tension rise. His rich husky scent was going to send you over board.

“I thought I was so high I was imagining you.” You laugh.

“You’re high?” He moves closer to you.

He’s so much taller than you, you feel so small compared to him.

“Sorta, I wanted to take my mind off of everything.” You admit turning back around. He was the reason.

“You can tell me to leave, if you want.” He stops mid room, in his husky tone.

“Stay, please. I want you with me.”

You wanted him with you all the time, and this was the first time you were going to be honest.

He gets closer to you and you analyze his face, his wrinkles, his dimples, his nose. Everything about him turned you on. You were both different people tonight.

You brought your hand to hold his face and you smiled.

He leans his forehead on yours, and you both breathe heavily looking at each other, his nose touching yours. He brought his hands to your face and you closed your eyes. You felt so safe right now.

His expression softened due to your touch.

“You always have this stagnant expression on your face for everyone, but when I’m with you, you immediately change-”

He closed the gap between you both so fast, you thought his lips on yours were fake. Everything was so heighted right now. His lips were so soft on yours and. It felt like an orange sunset. You both melded against each other. You couldn’t breathe, he was all over you. You braced your hands on the sink.

He gasps for air, “You’re so fucking beautiful pretty girl, I’ve wanted to kiss you since day one.”

That makes you whine. “And if you make that sound again it’s gonna make me do things I want to save for when we're actually alone.”

“So then fucking do them, use me. I don’t care.”

He slides his tongue across his teeth and shakes his head, “I could never use you, sweetheart. I don’t fuck the first night, let alone the first date which I havent been given the privledge to ask for.” He pauses to kiss you again, “In due time my needy pretty girl.” He puts a piece of hair behind your ear.

You were his pretty girl. If you weren’t already melting into his body, your brain felt like mashed potatoes, you couldn't think of one thing to say.

“Wrap your legs around me.” He orders. As you do he hoists you on the bathroom sink, standing in between your legs. He runs his hands up and down your overlay dress, moving closer and closer to your nipples, making you lean against the mirror. Whimpering when he finally touches the lightly covered skin. The weight of his fingers makes you shudder.

“When I saw you walking into the club, I almost lost my shit. I wanted to walk up to you, but I saw your friends and didn’t know what to do. And then I look up at the stage 10 minutes later and there's this beautiful girl lady dancing with a bunch of naked people and I couldn’t control myself following her into the bathroom.” He pinches the fabric over your nipple and you wince with a smile.

“You dirty perv, I could scream right now.” You warn.

“The only screaming you make right won’t be quite from that.” And he immediately dips down and latches onto your throat.

He groans into you, and you bring your hands to his unruly hair. You close your eyes and moan as he hits the spot. All your dreams are coming true right now.

“Are you giving me hickies Mr. Morales?” You ask.

He looks up to you and takes your lips again. His tongue on your felt like the world was right. No matter how wrong this could have looked to the common public, you felt like the world's happiest person right now, “Maybe.”

“I bet you liked that. Me calling you Mr. and I bet you loved Sir, huh?

“Don’t be a tease, you’ll fucking kill me.”

“Then give me more.” You taunt.

He was a rabid beast, his hands were moving lower and lower down your back, and your legs were moving wider and wider, inviting him in. You were wiggling against him, trying to feel any sense of relief. If he took one swipe to your clit, you’d explode.

“Do you want to be touched tonight, pretty girl?” He asks.

You’re so drunk on him you can barely answer, “Give me your words or I’ll just keep kissing you and keep my hands off.”

“Give me a second to conjure up a sentence around you, fuck.” You slur out. Being high and him being between your legs almost made you ascend right there. “Let me touch you first, please.” You plead trying to get off the counter.

“Oh no no, sweetheart. Tonight is about you, we can explore more another night.” He places his hand over your pussy and your jaw drops open. The weight of his hand alone was too much. He pushes harder, “Now use those words of yours and tell me what to do to you.”

“Frankie please make me cum, please. I’ll be so good, I’ll do anything to earn it.” You plead.

“You’re being a good girl by using your words, that’s all I needed to know.” He immediately pushes your mesh dress up to your hips on the sink, and places his hands back to the fabric of your silver underwear. Slowly pulling the fabric to the side.

Normally you would be scared for this to happen, you were so self conscious about what men would think about what you looked like down there, how you womenscaped and you hadn’t shaved in a few weeks. But nonetheless, your body was care-free.

He took in his breath, “Look at this beautiful pussy, how wet you are for me. Were you this wet for me when you saw me up on that stage the first time.” He asks in a low baritone. His voice drop gave you a hint he liked what he saw.

“I’m always wet when I see you, you should know that by now.” You were, he constantly turned you on.

“I do know now, you’re a fucking mess for me. You’re dripping all over the sink.” He fingers crowd at your entrance, collecting the liquid. The air of the bathroom meeting center made you shiver. He looks down at where his hand meets your cunt and brings his fingers to his mouth.

Time feels so slow you don’t even know what to think, this is the most erotic thing that has ever happened to you.

He licks his fingers clean of your juices and all you could do is stare at him in shock. Your consciousness kicks in and you’re scared he might think you taste gross.

He finishes and places his fingers against your opening again, rubbing your clit softly. Slightly opening his mouth to yours in a soft gaze, “Your pussy- is dangerously sweet. If we were not in public, I’d be eating you out for hours. So we need to be careful. ” He kisses you again, rubbing circles on your clit, changing direction and speed, he knew he was driving you bat shit. “I can feel your clit fluttering, that perfect little bud begging for relief, huh?”

You shake your head.

“Good, now faster.” He frantically pushes his fingers inside you. You’re moaning louder than you thought you could ever sing. His thick fingers feel like heaven.

“Fuck, Frankie.. You’re gonna make me cum, fuck fuckfufufuck.” He’s moving at a prompt speed, stretching you out, not pausing once. You hold your back up against the mirror and move your hands to his hand that is holding his weight on your stomach.

“Yeah that’s it. Hold onto me, hold me as I finger fuck you. You’re doing so good, sweet girl.” His words make your walls tighten around his fingers. The squelching of your pussy and your moans fill his head. He was looking at you the entire time, your face contorting because you couldn’t handle the pleasure.

You look into his eyes and he meets yours, his pupils almost fully dilated. He’s so focused on moving his fingers inside you, you can’t help but screech when your orgasm builds up.

“Oh my god, frankie.” You catch your breath, “It feels so good, I’m so close.”

He makes you release your hold on him and he moves his other hand to your clit and traces his thumb over your pussy, The stimulation giving you a final send off. He grunts and pushes his fingers inside you faster.

“Cmon now sweetheart, make that perfect pussy cum all over my fingers, give me more to suck off. Soak me.” He commands.

The bubble inside you pops and his fingers continuously hit the perfect spot inside your pussy, “Shit shit shit, Frankie, I’m cumming, Im cumming.” You scream for the whole club to hear. Your legs start to close together, you need the pressure to withstand that much force goring through your body.

“Look at you, you’re so pretty when you cum. So fucking perfect.”

Both of you catch your breath and feel the aftershocks of your orgasm when his fingers slide out of you.

He drops to his knees, his head right in front of your sopping cunt.

“You’re gonna learn that I always get my fill. As long as I’m on my knees, these legs will stay fucking open for me.” He utters.

After your little recovery he dips his head to your cunt and latches on, sucking the life out of your pussy. Moving his tongue from your clit, diving into your hole.

“That’s it, taking it so well for me, who’s my beautiful girl? ” He gasps up, “I would die for this pussy. So warm and tight.” He zips down again and his new pace makes your eyes cross.

You looked ahead in the mirror and looked at Frankies figure, in full leather, you were barely wearing anything, and his head bopping to fulfill the pleasure of your pussy made you whimper like a maniac. His hands against your inner thighs felt too natural. His skin against yours was so radiant, you couldn’t wait to have your time with him.

He takes one of his hands off your thigh and shifts it to your chest, going up your dress and through your bra. He manages to squeeze your tit. His large hand holding your body made your hands latch into his hair and push his head closer to your pussy. His large nose going into your dripping hole was killing you.

“Frankie I’ve never come like that before, that was life changing.” You admit, arching your back.

He looks up, “Then watch this.” He takes his hand on your chest and shoves it back into your sopping cunt. He’s sucking your clit and fucking you with his digits. He already knew your body so well, you couldn't comprehend how he knew how to undo you completely.

His fingers were reaching your g-spot a million miles an hour, finding the curve of your vagina so naturally. His lips felt like a magnet to your clit.

No person has ever done this to you before, so passionately and so vulgarly. It was all so overpowering, your stomach started to convulse, “Frankie, I can’t do it, I can’t. It’s too much. I'm gonna come again.” You mewl.

“Please baby, come for me. I need you to come for me, I know it’s a lot but you can do it.”

And that, you see pure white. Your mouth stays open and you feel his eyes on you again but you couldn’t bother looking at him. It felt like your two souls were being bound together. Something was tying you to him as you finished.You saw what he did to your body. You had just met him only weeks ago, and he was with you here. Now.

Your heart was breaking and repairing all over again. The orgasms were fucking with your head and body, and you thought you saw the universe. Being high and having an orgasm was another check off of the list.

He was your sun right now, he was all you needed.

You ran your hand over your heart to calm yourself.

“Baby, come back to me.” He pulls you out.

He’s whipping you down with a watered paper towel, cleaning your underwear as best he can and putting your dress back in place. You are in awe at how beautiful he is. You couldn't believe he was doing this for you.

“Guess what.” He asks.

“What?” You laugh. Of course he would ask a question after you took the life out of you.

“Well good and bad news. Good, ’m addicted to you, have been since day one. You’re beautiful inside and out. Bad, I will never get enough of you.” He states unapologetically.

That makes your heart drop.

“No man has ever said that to me.” You look down.

“I don’t know how. You’re perfect and I’ll say it a million times over for you to believe it. I would have fucking sit on my face for hours, just so I can inhale you and make cum over and over again.” He grabs your ass, “Those sounds you make, are my music and I would listen to that for the rest of my life.” He helps you off the sink, “ And I could imagine the sounds you’d make once we finally fuck.”

That made you groan.

He whispers in your ear, “We have a lot to do together angel. And I hope you know part of that will involve your pussy squirting.”

That made your stomach drop to your feet. All he does is keep fucking with your heart. You bring your fingers to your lips reminiscing the feeling of his lips on yours. Already missing him and his touch.

“Cmon baby, let’s walk out together and dance. We can just blend in the crowd and live through the night together. Then you can go back to your friends and we can see each other again tomorrow, yeah?”

You nod, and leave the bathroom with him. Part of you is still there. Wishing for your privacy again, but still excited for the awaited future together.

—-

previous || next

Authors Note: writing Santiago dialogue is so much fun. I can imagine oscar isaac just being the sweetest and calming to the reader LIKE CMON. but uh, yeah kinda first time writing smut SO PLEASEEE don’t be mean. But if this was good also lmk. I planned more of the story!! I want like 20-30ish chapters.

comment your thoughts ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

this is the song at the club and it’s fucking amazing.

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tanzthompson · 1 year ago

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Well this is awesome!

Death and an Angel Masterpost

Death and an Angel (Din Djarin x Female Reader) Index

A fic about Din as Death who asks You, a Cupid, to help him find his soulmate. A mixture of Mandalorian canon and my own immortal AU. I hope you enjoy the journey 💖

Warnings are listed for each chapter when you click on link, but please note smut does not exist in this story at any point.

Photo credit: @yoursisanemptyhope 🥰

Part 1 - 1,100. Death requests your presence at a train station.

Part 2 - 1,000. Din describes his potential soulmate to you.

Part 3 - 1,500. Din and you discuss what it means to be Death and a Cupid.

Part 4 - 3,300. Din and you learn the universe is full of surprises.

Part 5 - 2,075. One of your bosses threatens to split you and Din apart.

Part 6 - 2,114. You open up about your past to Din.

Part 7 - 2,297. You experience a flashback before waking up in an unfamiliar home.

Part 8 - 2,002. You bond with Kuiil while waiting for Din’s return.

Part 9 - 2,976. A promise is made before you leave to face your superiors.

Part 10 - 3,978. Neither you nor Din handle your capture well.

Part 11 - 3,511. Still imprisoned, you send a message to Din.

Part 12 - 4,704. You struggle to figure out Gideon’s goal.

Part 13 - 5,958. Ahsoka takes Din on a journey through the past.

Part 14 - 6,139. Escaping Gideon’s lair is no easy task.

Part 14.5 - 3,701. Din faces off against Gideon. And his own darkness.

Part 15 - 3,430. Your soul connects with Din’s in an unexpected way.

Part 16 - 3,321. You challenge Gideon to a fight, determined to be the victor.

Part 17 - 2,604. In which there are two special reunions.

Part 18 - 2,957. You and Ahsoka discuss past, current, and future events.

Part 19 - 980. Endings are hard.

Part 20 - Epilogue.

Fanart For Series: #1, #2, #3, #4, #5

My Edits: #1

#Mandalorian #Din Djarin #din x you #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin soulmate #soulmate au #my fic #my writing #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #death and an angel #immortal au #fic masterpost #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedrostories

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wardenparker · 1 day ago

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The Unbearable Weight of Perfection, ch 1

Javi Gutierrez x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When an accident of fate throws Javi G into the path of his soulmate, his instinct is to dive in head first. Adjusting to life as the fated partner of someone you barely know is going to be harder than either of you suspect, but anything worth having is worth working for. Isn't it?

(This story is heavily inspired by the lovely house museums that I work in every day and the fantastic few months that HBO was using our houses to film a TV show in fall! I spent each day on that set in wonder and I can't wait to share the experience with all of you through this story.)

Rating: M for Mature but this blog is always 18+ Word Count: 7.6k Warnings: *Blanket warnings for this story include: Cursing, alcohol, food, references to abusive family members -- i.e. Lucas.* Fluff, sweetness, flirting, crushes, reader's meddling bestie. Summary: Waking up beside your soulmate the morning after your wedding, you reflect on the meetings that brought you here. Notes: Welcome to a new story, friends! We're using date stamps as we tell this story, as scenes may appear out of chronological order. Enjoy!

Saturday, April 6, 2024

Normally waking up is hard for Javi. Too used to having his own schedule, late nights and lazy mornings. Things have changed over the past few years, the loss of his family fortune and business. Not that he minded no longer being the face of an arms dealer family, even if he wasn’t the one selling the weapons. That was his now incarcerated cousin, Lucas’s doing.

No, now waking up meant an alarm instead of the fragrant smell coffee being brought by a servant, he had to get up and make it himself if he wants.

This morning, this morning his eyes are open before the sun even thinks about peeking over the horizon. The early morning lighting up gradually as he watches your face, so peaceful in sleep. His soulmate. His wife.

Sunrise isn't normally your wakeup call. The mornings are always an early start for you because you like to get as much out of your day as you possibly can. It's been so many years of it now that you even wake up early on the weekends – but not today.

A rare morning of sleeping in means that the bright sun streaming through the windows penetrates your sleep to warm your dreams and drift you closer to reality. Although really, the thing that wakes you is the shifting of the mattress. The last time you shared a bed with anyone before last night was...a year ago? More?

But when you open your eyes, knowing it's your soulmate next to you is so exhilarating.

“Good morning.” Javi’s smile is bright, radiant like the sun as he reaches out and caresses your cheek. “How did you sleep? I think I only slept for two hours but it was the best two hours of my life.”

"Good morning." Like a magnet, you slide towards him on the mattress to tuck yourself into his side. "It's a whole new day. What did you want to do with it?" Neither of you have to work, so it's just...going to be beautiful all on its own.

“I should treat you today, no?” He asks with a grin. “It is technically our honeymoon?” The ring on your finger is just barely ten hours old, the excitement of that fact still humming through his system and coming off as nervous energy.

"We've got a whole weekend to do whatever we want." Honeymoon. It's your honeymoon. The last twenty-four hours have been a complete whirlwind. This time yesterday you were already at work. "I feel silly asking but...what do you like to do for fun?"

“Watching movies.” Javi admits shamelessly, although he no longer has the movie theatre he once did. “What is your favorite movie?”

"Oh gosh, that's such a hard question." Shamelessly happy that you can do so, you lay a kiss on his shoulder and gaze up at him.

Your soulmate is so fucking handsome. How did you get so lucky?

"Maybe..." You laugh at how ridiculously hard it is to choose. "I think I have more like a top three. And they rotate depending on what kind of mood I'm in. But one of the top three is always The Princess Bride."

“That is a good one.” He grins, happy that you seem to light up and have a hard time choosing. “I always liked Wesley.” He admits shamelessly and winks at you. “As you wish.”

"Hush." Even though you nudge him a little, your warm cheeks have nothing to do with the morning sun. It's all mixed in with the dreamy expression on your face as you talk with him. Your husband. Your soulmate. "What's your favourite movie?"

“You must promise not to laugh.” He tells you seriously, although there is humor twinkling in the depths of his dark eyes as he gazes into your hauntingly beautiful ones. “Paddington 2.” He admits, his tone flat and honest.

“Why would I laugh? That’s such a sweet movie!” Daring to reach up to brush a curl out of his eyes, you end up smiling all over again. “I…actually really love watching kids’ movies. They’re great for comfort and cheering me up when I don’t feel too good.”

“They teach us lessons we could all use.” He agrees, capturing your hand and kissing the back of it. “We can watch them together. Snuggled up.”

“That sounds perfect.” Practically everything he suggests sounds perfect, and it’s not just the gorgeous purr of his accent. “It can be a sweet way of unwinding at night.”

“You would not mind?” He asks, brows raised and a hopefully look on his face. “I wish I had my old movie theatre, but we can turn the second bedroom into a viewing room?”

"You..." Confusion makes your eyebrows draw in. "Used to have your own movie theater?"

He tilts his head. “Of course.” He nods. “I will have to build one again. It will not be as big as the one in Spain, but the house will be much smaller too.” He sighs softly, feeling a little bit like a failure for not being able to give you the things he once had. Before he ever knew you carried his marks. “But maybe one day, no?”

"If it will make you happy, then we will absolutely do that." There are plenty of things that you don't know about each other yet, but you have every confidence that you'll be able to settle into things together well. You're soulmates, after all. You're meant to be together. "I just...I've never known anyone who had their own movie theater before. That sounds so fancy."

“It was a large house.” He admits, frowning slightly. He loved the house, hated the bad memories of some of the things that happened there. Although it was never all bad. “You know, Nic Cage came to my birthday party there?” He asks. “It’s how we met.”

"Is it really?" He had told you that they were friends -- hell, the Cages had come to your wedding last night -- but it was still something that you were wrapping your head around.

“Yes.” He chuckles. “I paid him one million dollars to come to my birthday, and somehow, we became friends.”

Your eyes widen, catching on a breath of disbelief. "So that's how you get a movie star to come to your birthday? Color me impressed."

He hums. “Back then, yes.” He admits, leaning in and kissing your shoulder gently. “Now, they are starting to want to come on their own. Not because I pay them.” He doesn’t have the money to do that anymore.

"You're an amazing writer. I'm sure you're just at the start of something really grand." The two movies he has had made so far have both been fantastic. You went home and watched them back-to-back after the first time he told you he was a screenwriter. "I consider myself very lucky that I'll get to be beside you during all of it."

“Really?” His eyes widen, as if he had never really considered that you would be happy to have him as your soulmate. “You want to be beside me?”

It almost makes you laugh, but the wonder on his face is so genuinely sweet that it sort of comes out as a sound of disbelief. "Of course," you promise him, and take his hand to hold both his and your left hands in his view. The hands bearing your brand new wedding rings. "That's what this means."

“Married.” The word is whispered, almost reverently, as if he is still in disbelief that it was ever possible. For him, it had started to look that way. He had loved Gabriella and had been determined to be a good partner no matter if they had not shared marks, but she had left him. He had floundered slightly, bemoaning love and at the encouragement of Nic to start working on his next screen play, he had stumbled upon the soulmate he had always yearned for.

******

Tuesday, February 14, 2023 Valentine's Day

The slowest pay of the week for the museum seems punctuated with particularly melancholy moments today. There was a private tour this morning with a proposal, and the squealing bride-and-groom-to-be had been allowed to take photos together on the grand staircase before regular visitors began arriving for the day. Their family and friends had been hiding in the house, waiting for the moment, all ready to burst out and shout with joy after the question was asked and answered. It had left you with a migraine.

Another lover had popped their question to her beloved out in the gardens while you were trying to get some fresh air on your short morning break. You'd fled back to the breakroom and hung your head in your hands for the rest of your fifteen minutes of quiet.

Now, in the middle of the afternoon, there are so many couples on dates strolling through the halls of Hazelwood House that it felt like an intentional taunt. Being fresh off a breakup at Valentine's Day is no one's idea of a good time. So you just pace your area, walking through the three rooms of the house museum that are under your care for this hour, and hope that the floor just opens up to swallow you whole.

Which is how you accidentally walked straight into a guest.

"Oh! Excuse me! I'm so sorry, that was entirely my fault."

Javi Gutierrez manages to keep himself from stumbling but immediately reaches out to steady you. “No, no, I was wandering around.” He shakes his head, ready to take the blame himself as his eyes meet yours and he swears that his heart skips a beat. He straightens slightly, still holding your arms. “Are you okay?” He asks softly, as if you had been injured by the minor collision.

"I'm totally fine." Shaken, sure, but only because of your own clumsiness and the fact that you just had to bump into the hottest guy you've ever seen in your entire life. "I—I'm sorry." Come on, get it together. "I was distracted." Lie, for fuck's sake. "I just noticed a little detail in the flooring that I had never seen before."

“The floor?” Javi frowns as he looks down at the intricate tiles beneath both of your feet. “What about the floor?” He asks curiously, wondering if it is something special.

"Well..." It's nerdy. It's so nerdy. But there actually is something special about the mosaic tile in this particular room of the house. "The billiard room is covered in mosaic, but I've never paid much attention to the grain of the marble before." An utter lie, you stare at it every day. "Do you see the swirls of blue and gray here? It's the same marble as the fireplace."

Instead of looking at you like you are crazy, Javi squats down and brushes his fingers over the glazed tiles, staring at the colorful patterns for a long moment, memorizing them. Then he lifts his head to stare at the fireplace. “So they tiled the mosaic with marble instead of regular tiles?” He asks, trying to follow.

"It looks like it." He gets excited easily, this incredibly handsome man, and it relaxes you a little. Guests who get excited about little details are one of the things you love most about working in a museum. "Now I'm thinking about taking a photo of the different colors and comparing them to the other fireplaces in the house."

“Can you backtrack through the house?” He looks around worried for a moment and then back at you. “The guides won’t get mad?”

"You're only a few rooms in, I can walk you back to the first fireplace if you'd like?" That would be the breakfast room, which is an easy stroll backward from where you are now and you point it out to him on the map that is printed on the packet of information in his hand. It seems he opted not to download the audio tour as so many do.

He tilts his head, contemplating it seriously. “Then we should do it, no?” He asks. “See if it matches? It should, or no? Maybe it depends on the style of the room?”

"Let's find out, if you're curious. We can check the three fireplaces in this section of the house and you can compare the pictures you take here to the others as you keep moving through the house." You would walk with him, guide him yourself, because it's just so nice to stumble upon someone nice and not on a date today...but abandoning your area of the house would get you in a hell of a lot of trouble.

“Okay.” He smiles at you and wonders if you are waiting for your partner to arrive. It’s Valentine’s Day after all and he had thought to distract himself with work. “The house is very, um, nice.” He says as you start to steer him back towards the other rooms. Small talk can be awkward and he’s not as good as it as he would like at times. Nervous about making a negative impression.

"The whole place is gorgeous." The grounds are a popular tourist attraction, with plenty of weddings and other parties happening on the grounds in addition to the mansion being a museum. "Have you ever visited Hazelwood Park before?"

“This is my first time.” Javi confesses. “I have heard of it, but woke up this morning and decided today was the day.” He had honestly figured there wouldn’t be a lot of couples here. He had been wrong.

"Well, welcome." Back in the breakfast room, you turn to face the soft green marble fireplace. "This does look like the same green of the turtle in the mosaic," you admit. The shades are remarkably similar.

“So they matched the edging of this floor to the fireplace.” The entire floor isn’t a mosaic, but the banding around the edges is. “This fireplace is larger.” He tilts his head. “Perhaps they did not have enough of the leftovers to use, hm?”

"If they only used the pieces that were considered scrap during the carving of the fireplaces, then it would make sense that they wouldn’t have any large pieces." The thin tile line around the otherwise parquet flooring has always charmed you unexpectedly. You had never seen anything like it before.

“It is a good way to use up all the materials.” He agrees. “Because I’m assuming the marble was imported?” It’s nothing he’s ever considered before but your enthusiasm for the details excites him.

"Oh yes, absolutely." In fact, you had had to memorize where all of it came from as part of your knowledge test to be a full-fledged docent. "This particular stone comes from Italy."

“You know a lot about this.” He smiles. “Is the house a favorite place to visit for you?”

"Oh!" You break out into a nervous laugh and realize that this entire time, the nametag and lapel pin that you wear on your cardigan marking you as an employee haven't been visible. "No, I--I work here. I've been here about a year now."

“Oh…oh I am sorry.” He bites his lip as he tries to hide the embarrassed grin. “I didn’t realize. I thought you were just an enthusiast.”

"Being an enthusiast is sort of how I got the job," you admit. Shrugging your shoulders, you straighten out your cardigan again and do up one button to make sure both pins stay visible. "It turns out that I really love it. Beyond just thinking the place is beautiful."

“That explains your comment about this section of the house.” He chuckles, wiping his hands on his pants and shoving them in his pockets. “I had assumed you were waiting on someone. Now I know that’s it’s other tour groups.

"Have to stay in my section." A light, awkward laugh travels between you but even that little sound from him sounds angelic. "But if you like these first few rooms, then you'll love the rest of the house."

“Which is your favorite room?” He asks, looking down at his map.

"Today?" You laugh a little, emboldened by the way he seems to smile with his whole face. Like he really doesn't mind talking to you. Like he might even enjoy it. "I love them all, but I think the library might be the best part of the whole house."

“Do you like to read?” He asks, charmed by your laugh and the way you seem to light up at the question. As if you aren’t normally asked a personal question. “The library was always where I was chided, but then it was also where I could escape into different worlds when I couldn’t do other things.”

"That's the beauty of books." Something you believe unabashedly. Stories are an escape -- whether that is books or movies or plays, or whatever else. "Being able to run away into a different world is powerful. It's freeing." Warmth creeps up your neck and into your cheeks and you nearly feel embarrassed for getting so excited about it except that he's still smiling. "The library in this house? I would curl up in front of that fireplace with a stack of books beside me on the chaise lounge and one of those little table all covered in the blue China from the butler's pantry and a whole plate of scones. I would just stay there all day and night."

“That sounds perfect.” He hums. “With the fire built up?”

“Oh, of course.” The scenario has played out in your head a thousand times, and one day you might just have to go antiquing for your own chaise so you can fulfill it. Of course…you’ll also need a home legitimate enough to have a fireplace. Not your shitty little studio apartment.

“Storm beating against the windows?” It would be a miracle in California, but he could imagine it in the setting of his latest screenplay. “Or snow?”

"Oh, it's been years since I saw a good snowstorm. I used to hate them, but I sort of miss it."

“I have not ever lived somewhere where there was snow.” He admits with a small shrug. “It is beautiful in pictures but I do not think it would be fun to have every day.”

"Oh, it's definitely not." Not even a little, and your immediate answer elicits laughs from both of you. "My favorite was when I was going to college in Boston and the college dug out our sidewalks for us. All the beauty of snow with none of the work."

“That is probably the best way to have the snow.” He admits with a laugh.

"Well..." Realizing you've probably monopolized enough of this extremely handsome, extremely charming man's time, you offer him a smile and try to smother the butterflies accumulating in the pit of your stomach. He has the most beautiful, soulful eyes you've ever seen. "Enjoy the rest of the museum. Take an extra look at the library when you pass through the south wing and you'll see what I mean about it being comfy."

He’s entirely disappointed to realize that he’s being dismissed. Enjoying the way you banter with him, he wishes he could ask you to give him the tour of the entire house so he could continue talking. Feeling more at ease with you than he has with anyone ever. “Thank you.” He hums softly. “I hope you have a wonderful day, full of beauty.”

"You too." You flounder for a few seconds, but you know you'll get in trouble if your supervisor sees you on the surveillance cameras talking to the same guest for too long, so you gently extract yourself to stroll as casually as possible back into the corner of the great hall that is included in your area of the house right now.

Javi watches you walk off and he sighs before he looks down at the map and pulls out his phone to take pictures of the rooms. Your attention to detail will have to be included in the film.

******

Saturday, December 23, 2023

It's the Christmas season the next time you see him, when the house is all done up in twinkling lights and wreaths with trimmed trees in almost every room. Bowls of chestnuts and pine cones and cherries replace the usual decorative hazelnuts and oranges. Pine boughs and poinsettias instead of big, beautiful flower arrangements. It's a nice change of pace, honestly, and on the weekends guests can buy tickets to the after-hours light display on the grounds. Out in the garden there are even refreshments and music plays from the trees that drip with even more lights.

Javier tucks into his light jacket. It’s not completely necessary, but it helps the spirit of the season. The lights are beautiful and he’s heard that the decorations are truly a sight to see.

The music outside just reminds you of the years that you worked in retail -- repetitive and sickly sweet Christmas songs pouring through speakers, but you dole out cups of cocoa and coffee at one of the refreshment tables outside with good enough spirits. There's bits of broken cookie to sneak every now and then, and the little gingerbread men are tasty morsels when you and the other docent working at the table can grab them.

“You were right about the library.” He hadn’t been looking for you. At least that’s what he tells himself, although he lights up for some reason when he recognizes you. “It’s perfect for a cozy day reading.”

"You..." It takes all you've got not to grab your friend's hand beside you, as the specter of the random guest you've had a crush on for almost a year materializes in front of you. "You remembered?" The full sentence is 'You remembered me?' but you don't say that.

He grins bashfully as he steps up to the table and looks down at the cookies and paper cups, trying to keep from staring at how pretty you are. Javi’s been around gorgeous women, but there’s something about the naked honest in your eyes that makes him feel almost feverish. “Of course I did.” He chuckles. “I went back through to find you that day, but you must have already gone home.”

“We move around the house every hour. To keep on our toes and so we don’t stare at the same set of walls the whole day.” Did he get even more attractive since last time? That would be so unfair. Criminally unfair, actually. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it. Enough to come back, even.”

“I had to see it during Christmas.” It also got him out of the tiny cottage he lives in. Around other people. Hopefully to distract from the loneliness of the holiday. “I don’t know if this might not be the best look for this place. Although I see it with candles lit all around.”

“It’s perfect in spring,” you tell him all too quickly, and end up flustering yourself so you have to tear your eyes away from his to look down at the grounds gather your damn wits back. “I mean…in early spring is when all the orange and hazelnut trees blossom. That’s how the property got its name. Hazelwood Park.”

“Is that so? I will have to check it out.” He looks suitably impressed and then motions to the table. “So, um, how much for a cookie and a cup of coffee?” He asks, not sure what else to say, but wanting to continue the conversation.

"Oh, they're free for guests. Help yourself." Your coworker offers helpfully, seeing you fluster and thoroughly enjoying the level of teasing that is going to happen after work tonight. "Why don't you take your break while we have a lull?" She suggests, practically batting her eyelashes with glee over the suggestion.

"Thanks, Moira," you hum with a tone that suggests you're going to kill her later. Then again? She has a point. These days that there are special events at work can be long. You've been on your feet for hours.

Javi is disappointed, sure that you will disappear on him since you have a chance to get off your feet and possibly get something to eat or drink yourself. “Oh, um, okay.” He takes a cup of be coffee and a cookie. “Thanks.”

"Make sure to show him your bench!" Moira suggests, far too loudly and excitedly to not be obvious, as she thrusts a cup of cocoa and a gingerbread man into your hands.

“Your bench?” He could kiss your friend for giving him something to grasp on to in order to keep the conversation going. “What is your bench?”

"It's...it's over on the west side of the property." You gesture to the left of were you're both standing and try to suppress the giddy and awkward shivers running up and down your spine. "Do you...would you want to walk?"

“Are you sure you want to?” He asks seriously, happy about spending time with you but it’s your break. “You don’t want to rest?”

"Benches are made for resting." Now that the chance has presented itself, you would actually be pretty bummed to miss out on the chance to chat with him again. And, in all honesty, you're pretty sure it's not your break at all. Moira just threw you out of the nest like a mama bird.

“Okay.” He agree to that easily and shifts to move the cookie into the same hand as his coffee to offer you his arm. “Lead the way.”

The chivalrous gesture damn near makes your knees buckle, and you follow suit. Shifting your snack into one hand lets you take his arm to lead him toward the ocean. "It's just...where I like to come sit." Of course it is. You groan at yourself internally. What else would you do at a bench but sit? "I take my lunch out here sometimes and things like that."

“So it’s your special place.” He likes the sound of that. Showing him something that you might not show every guest.

"I suppose you could say that." It's only a touch chilly tonight and the breeze coming off the ocean is welcoming. "It's a nice place to sit and think. To just watch the ocean and...dream."

“Hopefully the dreams are nice ones.” He offers, wondering what you might dream about. “Having a quiet place to think is always a good thing. I used to sit out at the cliffs and dream, plot, plan.”

"Cliffs?" Hazelwood Park is more or less on a cliffside, and you motion out toward the ocean again. "Like this one?"

“A little larger than this one.” He smiles as he thinks back to jumping off the cliff with Nic. “Mallorca has cliffs that go hundreds of meters in the air.” He tells you. “Some so steep you would be terrified to slip off the edge.”

“Mallorca?” Spanish. Damn. They really do make hotter men in Europe. “I’ve heard it’s beautiful there. You…traded one beautiful place to live for another?”

He shrugs slightly. “Hard to write movies anywhere else but Hollywood, no?”

“Hard, but not impossible.”

So there it is. Even the screenwriters in Hollywood are sexy. Maybe you should be grateful to live so close by, then? Southern California does have some fun things that back home didn’t. Rather than fawn over him — that’s never been your style — you just smile. “So you like libraries and you’re a writer. Stories run through your veins.”

“I would live in them if I could.” He admits wistfully. The little bench is drawing closer and he can see from the view from this point why you would like it. It’s a stunning place to look out over the water. The wind just a touch brisk as it ruffles his hair. The smell of the saltwater taking over.

“Me too.” And for reasons you can’t quite discern, you just keep talking. “That’s why I like history so much. It’s all just stories. Especially in big houses like this. Somebody’s whole life — their whole story — is wrapped up in that house.”

“And do you sometimes pretend you are the lady of the house?” He asks, imagining you in the skirts from that time.

"It would be sort of a shame to dream about the place and not dream the grand, elegant things. Wouldn't it?" When you reach the bench together, he seems to set you down first, letting you settle, and then sits beside you. "I think it's romantic. Curtis Hollingsworth built the place as a birthday gift for his wife. They were outgrowing their home because they were pregnant again, and he'd made millions helping to turn Santa Barbara into a spa town." The soft smile on your face is whimsical, but you can't help it. "Apparently, she loved oranges and hazelnuts. Which is why the trees are everywhere."

“He brought those to her.” He looks out over the water and takes a sip of the rich coffee. At least they had served a strong brew instead of something heartbreakingly weak. “To build a house for someone you love is a perfect way to show it.” He frowns slightly, remembering that he has a building site that was halted before the foundation was ever poured.

“It’s certainly a grand gesture.” Something in his tone and manner makes you hesitate, but you don’t know this man nearly well enough to ask a single personal question so you try to just press past it. “Of course, grand gestures aren’t the only way of showing love. Not by any means. But they do make wonderful stories.”

“Sometimes it’s just listening.” He agrees, thinking about how things between him and Gabriella had turned after moving to L.A. two years ago. She had been uninterested in the future he envisions and started working towards. Stopped talking to him about anything that wasn’t part of her own interests. He had tried to course correct, but it had ultimately not meant to be.

“I couldn’t agree more.” This time you do chance to look at him — sharp jaw and soft cheeks outlined against the night sky like a fully grown cherub, golden brown curls neatly and artfully tousled and waving in the breeze. He looks like a Romantic painting. “Lots of people talk about communication but not enough realize listening is included in that.”

His eyes find yours again, seeing the softness and understanding swimming in their depths and he feels like bearing his soul to you. “Is it probably the most important part.” He admits. “The world would be better if people understood that.”

“Again…” you swallow hard, feeling your mouth has run dry and chest fairly ripped open with the feeling of familiarity. “I couldn’t agree more.”

The silence falls between you. It’s not unpleasant, it’s almost hesitant. As if both of you are afraid of disturbing the uncluttered beauty of the moment as the waves crash against the coast at the wind batters playfully against your cheeks. Javi breaks off a piece of the cookie and dips it onto the coffee.

“You chose a beautiful night to come visit.” It’s clear and typically warm despite the ocean breeze, and even in the end of December, Southern California is a beautiful place to be. He could have gone to any of a thousand places but he chose to come here, and a small voice in the back of your head wonders — hopes — that maybe you had a part in making this place happy for him.

“I was compelled to come back.” He admits softly, looking over at you for a moment before breaking off the gaze to look out at the sea again.

“The house is like that.” When he looks away, you do too. “It draws people in.”

It’s not the house, but it would sound crazy to say that he wanted to see you again. Instead he hums. “I don’t think it’s just the house.”

“Well…” If you wanted to take that to heart, you feel like you could. It wouldn’t be difficult to give yourself that little bit of hope. But despite being easy, it would probably be very foolish. “I hope it helps you miss home a little less to sit on these cliffs, instead.”

“I think it does.” He takes the bite of the cookie and groans happily. “These are good.”

“Gingerbread is highly underrated,” you agree, and take a bite of your own after dipping it into your cup of cocoa. “I get why they’re seasonal but I wish I could find them so easily all year long.”

“Yes.” He agrees. “They would be good anytime.”

“What’s your favourite kind of cookie?” The question is innocuous enough, but you find yourself curious anyway. Curious to know about anything he feels like telling you.

He chuckles and lifts a shoulder innocently. “A good chocolate chip cookie is always a comfort.” He admits. “Sometimes the simple things are the best.” He twists his head and looks over to you. “What is yours?”

“Have you ever heard of a hermit cookie?” You ask, raising an eyebrow, and grinning in amusement when he looks confused. “It’s a soft, spice cookie. Like gingerbread. Sometimes with raisins and nuts in it. They’re a bit old fashioned, but wonderful with coffee.”

“They sound like I should try some.” He would try anything you recommend right now, a fact that should scare him but it doesn’t. “How old are the cookies?” He asks, thinking about his screenplay.

“They’re from the 1880s or 90s, I think?” It does not escape your amusement or notice that this is the same time that the house you work in was built. “I don’t know if they’ve ever been popular outside of New England, but we do love them there.”

He hums and takes note of that. Deciding he will research it. “Hermit cookies.” He repeats. “Are there recipes for this? Online?”

"Probably." His entire attention has now focused in on this just because you said it was your favorite cookie and that makes you smile in a way you can't quite explain.

“Then I will have to look it up.” He smiles as he takes another sip of his coffee. “I like researching things. It is very interesting. Like your marble mosaic tiles.”

"You researched the tiles?" It's the sort of thing that you would only think of you or your coworkers doing, but hearing that he has enjoyed his time in the house -- and possibly with you -- so much warms your heart.

“It was interesting to learn how they chose the marbles.” He nods. “I never imagined a trip to Europe to pick out building materials.”

"It's a heck of a reason for a vacation," you agree, laughing slightly at the opulence of it all.

“Yes. And trips would take months.” He chuckles.

"I can't even imagine." To take a vacation at all would be a miracle. But one that was months long? It sounds positively absurd to your ear.

“Do you think they ever got bored?” He asks curiously. “Or tired of being away from home?”

"I have to imagine that they did." It's a question you've thought on more than you want to admit, but the stories in your head are always about everyday things. Wondering what the mundane things were like. "If I had a home like this I can't imagine ever wanting to be away from it. But I suppose the right person can make anything worthwhile."

“Were they soulmates?” He asks softly, having avoided the personal backgrounds of the homeowners when taking the tour. He had tried to keep his own characters in mind.

“They were. And when they left the house to their daughter, she married her soulmate here. And then her daughter married her soulmate here, as well. The house has a history of lifelong loves.”

“That is nice.” His tone is wistful. “I don’t know if I will ever meet my soulmate.” Javi confides, normally keeping that information to himself but he blurts it out. “I worry about it sometimes.”

“I don’t know a single person who hasn’t worried about it at some point.” Even your sister, who said she didn’t mind not marrying her soulmate as long as the woman she found was a loving partner, had been thoroughly overjoyed when she had found her now wife on Mate Marks. Everyone thinks about it — worries about it — even if they don’t want to admit it. “I wouldn’t worry, if I were you.” You offer him a smile, knowing you’ve gone over your fifteen minutes for your break and not wanting to be caught flirting with a guest on company time. “Whoever you do find is going to be very lucky to have you.”

He smiles again. “Have you found yours?” He figures you probably have, you are beautiful and captivating.

"Not yet." Even though you'd rather not, you stand from the bench. "I don't know if I ever will. Only time will tell."

“I know you have to go back to work.” Javi leaps off the bench and shuffles, wishing he could ask you to stay. “Thank you for showing me this place.” He bites his lip. “Uh, can I walk you back?”

The warmth rushes back to your cheeks, and you practically squirm with delight. "Thank you. I'd like that."

He offers his arm again, taking your empty hot cocoa cup from you to hold with his own trash. “Imagine the parties they used to hold here.” He breathes out as the two of you turn back towards the house.

"We're setting up an exhibit with some of the gowns. It's meant to open in about six weeks." You light up with that fact, excited to see all the swishing gowns and glimmering jewels for yourself. "Descendents of the family donated a large collection of clothing, shoes, and jewelry to the museum this part year."

“Wow.” He chuckles, thinking about the parties he would throw when he was pretending to be an olive oil exporter. He’s much happier being a screen writer, even if he can’t afford those parties and bought friends anymore. “That was generous of them.”

"They say the most spectacular pieces are still privately owned by the family, but the things I've seen so far have been absolutely gorgeous." If you're a little dreamy-eyed at the prospect, he doesn't seem to mind.

“It sounds like you would have loved to live during that time.” He smiles, knowing that he will have to insist the movie be filmed here.

"I'm probably overly romanticizing it," you admit. But the tent is in view already and you hate the sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach that wonders if he'll ever come back again. "I hope—" Biting back what you really hope, you go for a polite encouragement instead, "That the things you've found in your research have given you plenty to think about. And maybe romanticized it for you, too."

“It has.” Even if you have no interest in him, you’ve given him a focal point for his movie. “Thank you. This is a magical place.”

"Then I hope you'll come back again." At least in that you can be honest. There is nothing you would like more than to see him again.

“Really?” He’s surprised by your comment. Unless you are just being polite.

"Really." You promise him, but at the edge of the refreshments tent, you have to let his arm go.

He’s disappointed by the loss of your fingers on his jacket. “Well. I hope the rest of your night is magical.” He offers, bowing slightly and smiling at you.

"I can all but guarantee it now." One more smile. One more lingering, dopey smile, and you know you have to tear yourself away. "Have a good night..." Oh no. Have you really gone and sat and flirted with this man for your whole break and not even learned his name?

He nods and turns away, sure that it would be rude to try to extend the conversation. He will just have to go home and write about this, working it into the plot of his movie somehow.

******

Monday, June 10, 2024

The email went out before opening time, when only your bosses were up in the offices and the docent core hadn’t gotten to work yet. You’d nearly crashed your car in excitement while CarPlay read the email out to you on the highway.

A movie. An actual Hollywood movie is coming to film at the museum!

The second you clocked in and sprinted to the break room to put your things away, you almost clobbered Moira with squealed, giddy glee.

“Did you hear?? Did you see Leslie’s email?!”

“Oh my god, yesssss.” She lights up and nods quickly. “It’s a movie by that guy who did the Nic Cage movie a couple of years ago.” She informs you. “The one that won an Oscar and restarted that man’s career?” After a long slump of bad movies, the older actor had exploded back on the scene, apparently full of new life and motivation for his trade.

“I can’t wait until we find out more!” Being able to hug your friend and squeal together is such a rush. The two of you have become joined-at-the-hip work friends to the point where the friendship has bled into everyday life. “A name, a plot, any of the stars?”

“Actors.” She sighs dreamily. “Imagine if your soulmate or mine, is an actor who comes to film?” She loves the glitz and glam of Hollywood and always secretly imagined being an actress herself, although she’s realistic enough to understand that it would be impossible to have happen.

“Maybe yours will be.” You laugh, hugging her again before you have to break away to pull your radio headset out of your bag. There is still work to do today, desire the excitement. “You’ll have to make sure you always wear your hair up so your tattoo is visible.” The little raven behind her ear would be a hell of a lot easier to show off than the tarot card on her though, anyway. Moira’s tattoos are gorgeous and just unique enough that you would bet there was no duplicate in the works besides her soulmate.

“Oh I’m planning on it.” She licks her lips and waggles her brows suggestively. “What about you? Yours aren’t so visible.” She knows how much you secretly want to meet your soulmate and be with them. It was a drunken girl’s night confession but she had never teased you over it.

“There’s no reason to go around showing everyone my marks.” You shrug a little and busy yourself with plugging into a walkie-talkie and adjusting your headset in your ear. “A lot of people have ankle scars, don’t they? And I can’t exactly show off my butterfly.” Exposing that much skin is definitely against dress code.

“Is it your scar or his?” You had never mentioned that, just that you had a scar.

“It’s theirs.” However your soulmate is, you’ve tried very hard not to make assumptions about them. The person you hope for might not be the person you get, and that wouldn’t be fair to them. “I was nine when it appeared, so my best guess has always been they fell out of a tree or play sports.”

“And the tattoo is yours?” She knows, she’s just chatting because it’s better than actually getting ready to work right now.

“Twenty-first birthday.” You nod, knowing that she knows but that Moira likes a slower start to her day than you usually do. “I did the opposite of most people. I got the tattoo and then went out to get drunk.”

“Which is a very valid and smart thing to do.” She praises. “That way you don’t bleed too much and it’s a nice way to numb the pain after.” Her own walkie comes out to begrudgingly clip to her waist. “But this movie, it has to be a period piece, right? No way a modern millionaire would live in a house like this.”

“It has to be. There’s no point in renting out a historical house museum for four entire months unless you’re going to use it all.” Not that you know too much about the filming process, but it just makes logical sense. “And besides, they’re here in spring and summer, which is usually our busy season. So I’m sure Leslie charged them a fortune. But HBO can afford it, I guess.”

“What if they let us be extras?” Her eyes widen at the sudden thought. “Oh god, we could wear our work!” She giggles happily at the thought.

“I assume there will have to be extras somehow.” Truthfully, you’d let your Hollywood dreams die out a long time ago. Moira’s were much more present. It would be amazing to see her to be able to fulfill them with even just a morsel like being an extra. “I guess we’ll just have to find out, won’t we?”

“When it gets closer you will be just as excited as I am.” She predicts with a knowing grin.

“I’m plenty excited,” you promise, happily hugging her to your side as the two of you head out into the house together. “I just think you belong in front of a camera much more than I do.”

“You’ll change your mind.” She teases. “When you see what gorgeous actors and actresses they bring, you will be begging to flirt with them. On and off camera.”

“Maybe.” Her confidence is catching, and you laugh again at the thought of it. Hollywood has come knocking on your door and it’s already making work a hell of a lot more fun.

------ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Javi Gutierrez #Javi Gutierrez x you #Javi Gutierrez x reader #Javi Gutierrez x female reader #Javi Gutierrez x f!reader #Javi G #TUWOMT #the unbearable weight of massive talent #soulmate au

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allwaswell16 · 4 months ago

Text

I'm so sorry, but for the first time in 5 years, I just don't have it in me to do an episode of Fanfictional this month. If possible, I'll be back with a new episode next month. But I do want to acknowledge the wonderful One Direction fics I read this month as well as some I revisited for comfort. Thank you so much to these amazing fic writers who have entertained me or given me some respite. For more new fics, check out this month's fic roundup here

- Louis / Harry -

🧡 Stand on Holy Ground (series) by @wishingforloushair

(E, 17k, religion kink) Louis comes back to confess again, and Harry has an idea of how Louis can show God his devotion.

🧡 My Spiteful Ballerina by sweetkalachuchi / @neverforpickles

(M, 7k, omegaverse) Four times Harry wanted an explanation of Louis' hatred toward him, and one time Louis gives in, in Louis' fashion.

🧡 Die Without the Taste of You by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 6k, part 2 of Vampire Harry/Human Louis One Shots) the one where human Louis might push his vampire boyfriend a little too far, but it works out in the end

🧡 Ain't a Drop of Bad Blood by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 4k, part 3 of Vampire Harry/Human Louis One Shots) the one where human Louis is being haunted by a spirit, and he's reluctant to ask his vampire boyfriend for help

🧡 Alone and Back Again by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 4k, omegaverse) what does one do when a feral alpha shows up in town ready to be executed?

🧡 The Shadow by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(G, 666 words, dark Louis) Harry should've listened. He should've stayed inside.

- Rare Pairs -

🧡 That's Happiness To Me by @louislittletomlintum

(E, 24k, Zayn/Louis/Liam) Louis’ mind was whirring. He’d wanted to try and get with Liam tonight, but now a new, better idea was forming. Getting Liam with Zayn, if possible, would be something of a dream come true.

🧡 It’s a Craving Not a Crush by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 9k, Liam/Louis) the one where Liam and Louis are best bros who end up getting married so that Liam has the insurance he needs to go to rehab. Now that he’s sober, they can get divorced. But do they want to?

🧡 I'm the Big Fish by @lululawrence

(NR, 5k, Louis/Pedro Pascal) After an awkward moment at a party he wasn't actually invited to, Louis keeps running into the incredibly attractive Pedro Pascal. Somehow, it's Pedro who manages to keep making a fool of himself

🧡 Spirits by itsraininginengland / @ilovellama14

(E, 4k, Louis/Oscar Isaac) Edwardian music hall performer Louis Tomlinson meets the newest act in the show, the American magician Oscar Isaac. Romance, smut and a seance ensue.

🧡 Ci Ci Leu by @persephoneflouwers

(M, 3k, Louis & His Band) Written for the prompt «bread van fic reimagined with all the guys in Louis’ band».

🧡 Glitz, Glammer, Top Hats, Cigars and Suits by @rockstarlwt28

(NR, 3k, Louis/Dominic Harrison (Yungblud) When Isla found a love for the melody formed by a strumming of strings, Louis didn't expect to fall equally in love with his daughter’s guitar teacher, Dominic Harrison.

🧡 I regret you all the time by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 2k, Louis/Prince William) Louis’ friends don’t understand, and they wouldn’t even if he explained. But every time William texts, Louis drops everything to go see him.

- For Comfort -

🧡 You're Not My Type (still I fall) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter

(M, 38k, omegaverse) This is just a bit of rain; it'll blow over. Then Harry will just... well, alright, he isn't entirely sure what to do when the rain stops because he'll still be stuck and lost.

🧡 The Journal by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou, RecycledStardust / @wait4ever

(G, 14k, soulmates au) When Harry finds himself purchasing an antique journal in the ancient bookshop of a town he’s never heard of, he doesn’t exactly want to admit that he has no idea how he got there.

🧡 Just Your Jinx by @larryatendoftheday

(T, 10k, witch au) Harry Styles may or may not have accidentally jinxed his extremely fit new neighbor, and it's not so easy to make things right.

🧡 Court Wine by @enchantedlandcoffee , red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa

(T, 7k, omegaverse) after a misunderstanding during a scrabble game, Alpha Louis starts courting Omega Harry without the latter being aware of it.

🧡 Have Me And Hold Me by @letsjustsee

(NR, 5k, established relationship) a wedding day AU in which Louis will let nothing stand in the way of a perfect day - especially a little rain.

🧡 Good-Old Fashioned Lover Boy by not_fitzwilliam / @not-fitzwilliam-darcy

(NR, 5k, omegaverse) When a miscalculated decision leads to an accidental courtship with the sweetest, most gentle alpha, Harry is torn between breaking the alpha's heart and telling the truth.

🧡 Pretty and Preposterous by @brightlyharry

(NR, 5k, neighbors) Harry donates a copy of Pride and Prejudice to his little free library. He never expects what comes next.

🧡 Stealing Flowers by @lululawrence

(NR, 4k, meet cute) the one where Louis pines after the Sexy Stranger on the Subway and almost asks him out. That's when the strange posters start showing up around Brooklyn.

🧡 Choo-Choose Me by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(G, 3k, Liam/Louis) Liam is a commuter with a crush. Louis is the chirpy ticket inspector who occasionally mans the drinks trolley and sometimes makes announcements, his broad Yorkshire accent fighting the outdated train speakers.

#ficrec #1dsquad #1dficvillage #1dficlibrary #28th appreciation

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pimosworld · 8 months ago

Text

The ties that bind

Pairing-Dave York x f!reader x Frankie Morales

Series Summary-Dave is a private investigator who tracks down soulmates. He's tasked to find Frankie's, but what happens when he finds you and wants you all to himself?

CW-18+,NSFW,MDNI, Fluff, teasing, shower sex,Dom Dave, MMF dynamics, voyeurism, Unprotected piv,Protective best friend.

WC-3.6K

A/N- Happy Frankie Friday. I know it’s been awhile but I have not abandoned these three. New chapters will be slow going because life happens but I still have a lot in store for them.

[Main Masterlist][Series Masterlist]

Not beta read

Chapter VII

You don’t remember the last time you woke up this peacefully. It almost feels like you’re dreaming being squished between these two bodies under a mountain of Egyptian cotton comforters. All you can see in a cloud of fluffy white is two distinct brown mops of hair. You want to run your fingers through it, the way you did last night. You think better of yourself and decide not to wake them for your own personal reasons.

Speaking of not waking them. You’re in a precarious position, you try to sit up against the headboard to extract yourself from the covers but a large hand pins you down. Frankie huffs a little and slides even closer to you. He seems to be still in dream land as does Dave so you quickly drape his arm across you. It buys you a moment to slide up just as he gravitates towards the other man. It makes you laugh how desperate he is for a warm body to snuggle up to. It’s a little bit more of acrobatics to climb over them as you land softly on the carpeted floor.

The only clothing item of yours in reach is your tight black dress from the night before so you opt for Dave’s dress shirt. You glance down at your phone tossed aside on the loveseat and curse yourself when you see a litany of notifications. You definitely need to call your best friend and fill her in on the details. Maybe not all the details but at least let her know you’re okay.

Alicia

So?

Call me

Missed call

Are you alive?

You better have got dicked down by one of them

I’m just kidding

Missed call

Only slightly kidding babe

I’m gonna come down there and bang on your door

Incoming call

“Hello.”

“Oh my god, why do you even have a phone?” You feel slightly bad at the panicked tone.

“Sorry.” You say in a hushed voice.

“Why are you whispering?”

“Just…let me step outside.” You glance around and see the two men still sound asleep and head out into the balcony.

“Outside? Outside where?” Her shrill voice cuts in as the morning sun blasts you.

“The balcony Alicia.” You glance down hoping no one can see you but it seems way too high for anyone to notice.

“Those rooms don’t have balconies.” She says.

“The penthouse does.” All mischief in your tone as you hear her sharp intake of breath.

“The fucking penthouse!” She shrieks and you instinctively turn around as if they can hear her through the phone.

Your laugh sets hers off as you bounce giddily on your feet. “Yes, that’s what I said.”

She takes a deep breath and you prepare yourself for the influx. “So what was it like? I mean did you even do anything or did you guys just talk?…Who am I even kidding of course you didn’t just talk. Did you fuck both of them?” She’s completely spiraling now and you can’t even remember her first question. “Holy shit did they fuck each other? I’ve always wanted to be with two guys, you just checked something off my bucket list.”

“Okay, okay, breathe.” Your stomach hurts from laughter as you fidget with the hem of Dave’s shirt. “I’m not sure how me doing something checks it off your bucket list.”

“So you’re saying?” You shake your head at the slight lilt in her tone.

“I’m saying….I had an amazing night and I’d like to talk to you about it in person.” She groans but concedes. Much like your friendship you always understood each other.

“You know? It’s a beautiful day to hit the beach.”

You sigh as you look out onto the horizon. The aquamarine shore gives way to the dark blues as the water grows deeper. “Ya it is, we should go.”

“Yes…all of us should go.” Her insistence leaves no room for argument and you wouldn’t dare pass up an opportunity to let her blow off a little steam. You may have forgiven them but you know your best friend had some words for them since that night at the bar.

“Okay babe, I’ll talk to them when they wake up and come up with a plan.”

“When they wake up!? Your pussy must be molded from the gods if you fucked them to sleep.”

You groan as the balcony door opens and you nearly drop your phone. “Text you the deets, gotta go.”

You hear the tail end of a sentence as you hang up the phone. Dave is smirking at you as he leans in the doorway, dressed in his black boxers and nothing else.In the daylight he’s a marvel. His thick thighs that bracketed you between him. His defined waist and the small tuft of hair just below his belly button, his toned chest and that smirk he’s giving you because you realize you’re staring.

“See something you like?” His morning voice drops with want and you bite your lip as you nod your head.

He crosses his arms over his chest as he dips his chin. “Well I see something that belongs to me.”

“Oh sorry.” You gesture down at the shirt and your exposed thighs. “It was the first thing I saw.”

“I wasn’t talking about the shirt hummingbird.” He stalks toward you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pins you against the window. You’re too high up for anyone to see anything but his body shields you as he runs his hands along your thighs, dragging his shirt up with them. He dips his head as you wrap your arms around his neck bringing him into you. It’s so much better than that first kiss, it’s uninhibited as you moan into his mouth. The cool contrast of his hot hands and your body against the cool window is exhilarating. Frankie would be getting quite the show if he was awake.

You snake your hand down his chest to palm his cock through his boxers and he whimpers. The sound almost brings you to your knees.

You push him back gently as you glance over your shoulder…it would be selfish to wake Frankie and you certainly can’t fuck on this balcony, at least not the first time with him. Sensing your thoughts he pulls your chin to face him. “You want to take a shower?” Your words are still caught in your throat so you nod as he releases your chin. He takes your hand in his as you glance down at your phone. You blink twice seeing the time still counting down on the call. I thought I hung up?

You raise the phone to your ear and give him an apologetic smile. “Hello?”

“So you’ll give me the details after the shower.” You give her a hushed yes as she laughs on the other end. “Molded from the gods.”

“Okay bye.”

****

You’re leaning against the bathroom wall admiring the way his back flexes as he turns on the water. Holding his hand under the stream until it’s the right temperature. In your haste last night you didn’t really get a chance to look around the room. The large ceiling to floor windows and the marble tiles. The crushed velvet couches and the large work desk. It’s the most expensive room you’ve ever been in. The large dual shower with the rain water setting makes it look so luxurious. You may be getting ahead of yourself but you could get used to this.

“As much as I love the way you look in my clothes, I need this off.” He steps in front of you, his large hands work the small buttons of his shirt as he pushes it down your shoulders. His hands are cold from the water and he sees you shiver as his fingers graze your exposed breast. His lips find your shoulder as the shirt falls to your feet. He leaves little open mouth kisses down your arm and across your chest as he backs you up into the shower, helping you over the small ledge so you don’t trip.

“Well I need those off if you’re going to join me.” You gesture at his boxers and he slowly drags them down his thighs as he holds your eye contact. It’s hard to concentrate on one thing as your eyes flit down to his cock settled heavy between his thighs. His hooded gaze as he stares you down, challenging you to stay focused.

He steps into your space, the steam rolling off him as he steps under the water. His hands find your waist as he pulls you into him, dipping his head to your neck as he breathes in your scent. The water cascading off his body onto yours as he holds you close. It’s pure torture as he teases you, his cock between your thighs as he grinds your hips into him, the tip just barely brushing against your clit makes you gasp and he catches it with his mouth over yours.

“Dave please.” You whimper as he uses your body and he chuckles against your mouth.

“Patience hummingbird…we’re supposed to be getting clean.” He’s enjoying this, the slow build of anticipation as he turns you to face the water.

He squeezes some of the fancy hotel soap in his palms that smells like tea tree and vanilla. His lathered hands work their way over your shoulders and across your rib cage as you lean back into his broad chest. You can feel him achingly hard against your back but he has all the patience in the world apparently. He cups your breast in one hand as he rolls your nipple between his fingers, reveling in the way you hiss through your teeth.

He’s got you so keyed up you forget that you have cards to play as well.

You reach back, stroking his length as he thrusts into your hand. You chuckle as he curses under his breath while you steadily work him over. “You want to play this game sweetheart?” He grits out as his hand travels south, one arm snaking around to trap you against him.

You’re pinned but you can still manage to move your wrist as he dips his fingers between your folds, rubbing your clit with his thumb. An inaudible sound escapes you and you clamp your hand over your mouth.

“Don’t be quiet now hummingbird.” He growls in your ear as he pumps his fingers in and out. He pulls your hand away from your mouth as you pant out his name.

“I don’t want to wake…fuck.” You try to gather yourself as he curls his fingers. “Frankie.”

“Oh honey you fucked Frankie already.” He taunts you as he takes you apart. His words and his actions have you on the precipice of your climax.

“Fuck I’m so close..” The wet sounds of your bodies rubbing against each other and the cascade of the shower have thoroughly disguised your eager onlooker.

“Come for him.” You gasp at the sound of Frankie’s voice as Dave chuckles in your ear. Your hand grips his wrist as you try to cling to the last bit of sanity you have left. He swallows your cries with his lips as your head falls back to his shoulder. Relishing in the way he has you wrapped up so tight against him. If not for his strong arms holding you up you’d be in a puddle on the tile floor.

The sound of the other shower springing to life registers as Dave whispers praises in your ear. These men are seemingly already in some kind of easy morning routine where they can peel all your layers back. It’s almost not fair how comfortable they are sharing you when you wanted them to squirm a little. But you asked for this.

Dave’s hands haven’t left your body as the steam builds clouding your vision. His fingers grip and pull at your waist as you feel the faint evidence of their hands on you from the night before. It’s like he’s burning his memory into you, not wanting to let you go for fear that this is all some dream. He spins you around and presses you against the cool tile wall. You gasp and he chuckles as he flashes those pearly white teeth at you. The stark differences between him and Frankie have you reeling. You can tell he’s having too much fun playing with you as he stares at you with those deep brown eyes. The water drips off his dark hair as it rolls down the slope of his nose. He’s fucking beautiful.

You don’t know which way is up as you brace your hands against his chest when he dives down to kiss your neck. You can hear a groan from across the room as he wraps your leg around his hip, angling it just so that he can continue his torturous teasing. The slick sound of Frankie working himself over as Dave glances back and bites down hard on his lip to keep from coming at the sight.

“How rude of me.” He pants out as he turns your body slightly, nearly lifting your other foot off the floor. “I’m blocking the view.”

You let out a soft moan as Frankie’s eyes bore into you while Dave stretches you open. Notching your thigh higher up on his waist as he rolls his hips into you. You just might pass out from the sensations as shivers rack your body.

“Dave…fuck, it’s so…” He takes the words out of your mouth as he picks up the pace, practically working in tandem as Frankie feverishly fists his cock. You struggle to keep your toes on the ground as the lewd sounds of your moans echo off the walls.

Dave slows his pace as he glances over his shoulder. “I bet he’s thinking about how fucking tight this pussy is.”

Fuck. Frankie thinks he might have died and gone to heaven or he’s getting dangerously close to passing out from the steam and exertion. He doesn’t want to come before you but the way Dave is whispering in your ear and pushing you against the wall, he’s not sure how much longer he’s gonna last. The ripples in his back as he flexes his muscles. The way he grips your thigh and the way your toes curl when he hits that spot deep inside. It’s better than any porn he’s ever watched. He knows what it feels like to be inside you, to know what it sounds like when you’re close to the edge.

Your mouth hangs agape against Dave’s arm as your eyes rove up and down Frankie’s body like it’s a work of art. You look like a similar figure as the water rolls off the both of you and you cling to him for dear life desperately trying to keep your eyes from rolling in the back of your head.

Dave’s lips meet yours in a soft and sweet kiss. A complete juxtaposition to the way he’s dismantling you before you’ve even had your morning coffee.

“I think he wants us to come first hummingbird.” He smirks at you as he leans in whispering in your ear. “Maybe next time you’ll let us fuck you together.”

Frankie doesn’t hear the last part, but he can hear you as you come apart for the second time. Dave’s strong arms holding you against the wall as he works you through it. He can see the brief stutter as he fills you up and that sends Frankie over the edge as he lets out a loud groan and spills onto the tile below.

You’re floating as a blast of cold water washes over you and you faintly hear Dave curse, or Frankie you’re not entirely sure at this point. Your nerves frayed and your body spent from the overstimulation.

****

Two sets of the saddest brown eyes are looking down at you when you come to. You’re wrapped in the fluffiest white robe you’ve ever seen in your life and seem to have been deposited back in the bed. The looks of horror turn to utter confusion when you start laughing at their still slightly damp appearance with matching white towels wrapped around their waist.

It’s like the beginning of a wet dream you’re sure you’ve had before, two gorgeous men, half naked standing before you and all you can do is manage a small smile to let them know you’re okay.

“Jesus Christ hermosa…you scared the shit out of me.” Dave quickly shoots him a look of disapproval and Frankie corrects his previous statement to “us.” He’ll have to get used to that of course.

“I’m so sorry, I got a little carried away.” The bed dips as Dave sits down next to you, cradling your head in his large palm.

You place your hand on the outside of his gently brushing your fingers along his knuckles. Hopefully reassuring him you’re perfectly alright. Better than alright in fact. “Don’t be sorry honey, that was amazing.”

He’s slightly more taken aback at the pet name. Perhaps the first time you’ve used one with him. He wants to relish in it but maybe you’re just delirious from nearly getting heat stroke, or maybe it’s just comforting to you. Either way he’ll never correct you.

“Don’t encourage him.” Frankie is still standing above you, looking less than amused. He hands you a glass of water as you sit up against the headboard.

“I seem to recall someone else encouraging as well.” You raise an eyebrow at him and he seems to concede defeat at that. He joins you on the other side and you feel pleasantly cozy, trapped between them.

Dave looks down at you slowly, as you start to close your eyes. “We’re gonna have to set some ground rules, seeing as though we almost killed her.”

Frankie just hums in approval as he glances down at you.

You’re just gonna rest a little more and hope Alicia isn’t too mad that you want to spend a few more moments in your penthouse paradise.

****

You can tell she wants to say something

You could always read your best friend like the back of your hand. It’s almost driving you nuts that she hasn’t said anything. Instead she just smiles at you as you walk hand in hand down to your favorite spot just near the edge of the water. The boys in tow behind you whispering to themselves, yet everytime you turn around they just offer you the same smile as if everything is perfectly normal.

To the outside world everything is. It's just two couples, setting up camp in the white sand on the perfect sunny day. The aquamarine waves gently kiss the shore, calling to you as you take off your swim cover up. Not missing the way Alicia’s eyes dart to a few forming bruises on your exposed body.

You shoot her a look of drop it and she concedes as she takes hers off and lays it out along the sand. She knows you won’t be joining her as you silently fall into your normal beach routine, her laying out in the sun as you walk towards the waters edge.

“So…is Po-I mean Santiago be joining us?” Frankie finally breaks the silence as he nervously adjusts his cap, glancing over to Dave who looks like he’s going to make a break for the water to join you.

“Nope.” She pats the sand on either side of her and you hope for their sake she at least had a goodnight.

You turn your back to them and walk confidently toward the water until the warm sand starts to meet the waves and you dig your feet into the cold dense grit. The sound of the water as it gently kisses your calves and the seagulls above you are all you care about at this very moment.

****

“She looks happy.”

A firm statement Frankie can tell as Alicia keeps her eyes trained on you standing in the water. Dave glances over waiting for her to continue, not wanting to speak until he’s certain he’s supposed to. She has a protective air about her that he respects and also is genuinely terrified of.

They both know how fiercely you love each other and with that comes a lot more at stake. Frankie knows more so than Dave that Santiago and Alicia’s relationship thriving is directly tied to how they proceed. She would never put you through the torture of continuing to date his best friend if things didn’t work out between the three of you.

“I don’t think either of us could come back from another heartbreak.” She picks up a small handful of sand and watches it fall like a slip of an hourglass.

“We don’t intend on breaking her heart.” Dave says as sincerely as he can without letting on his nervousness.

“I’m sure you don’t intend to…but you didn’t intend on lying and you both did a bang up job of that already.” She levels him with a look and he opts to bite his tongue on that one. Frankie has the decency to look embarrassed even though Dave really should have come clean.

“Well consider that our first and last fuck up.”

You turn to them seated on the beach. Shielding the sun from your eyes with one hand and waving them over with the other. The brightest smile on your face as you silently plea for them to join you.

“I’ll consider it if you keep making her smile like that.”

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 2 years ago

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Ready To Hope

1200 Words for 1200 Followers #2

A/N: Hi friends! Welcome to the 12-A-Palooza! This event is my way of saying thank you for sticking with me. Your support and kindness toward me and my writing is out of this world and I’m grateful for every last one of you! Rolling right along with the second piece - which is set in the same AU as Every Color Illuminates. This “color soulmates” trope has been really fun to play with, so it might be pretty easy to convince me to write more for them ;)

Warnings: Talk of past relationships, Teresa makes a tiny cameo

Requested by: @alraedesigns - Song: Shake It Out - Character Choice: Marcus Pike (Thank you so much for sending this, Alex! I know you love this sweet cinnamon roll man, so I hope you enjoy the continuation of this AU! 💚)

Summary: When Marcus contacts a renowned Art Gallery in hopes that a Color Ambassador can help him with some details for a case, he’s reminded of the fact that asking for help to see color hasn’t always worked out for him in the past. This time, though, things will be different.

“This might be a shot in the dark, but-” Marcus clamped his phone between his ear and shoulder so that he had both hands free to pay the coffee vendor. Mouthing a ‘thank you’ to the man, he took his beverage, dropping his change in the tip jar. “You don’t have a Graysight CA who can walk me through the exhibit, do you?”

He held his breath and readjusted the phone, gripping it with his right hand. I hope she says y-

“We do.” Michelle, the director of the National Gallery of Art responded. “Actually, our best Color Ambassador sees in Graysight. And you’re in luck, Agent Pike, because she’s here today.”

Marcus released his held breath in a relieved sigh, lips lifting into a smile. Amazing. “That’s great.”

Admitting that he - the regional head of the FBI’s Art Crimes division - needed a CA always gave Marcus a hint of anxiety. It wasn’t because he was embarrassed that he hadn’t found his match yet. It was because he knew that people made assumptions about him based on his position, and that sometimes when they found out that he couldn’t see in color, their assumptions turned to doubt in his ability to do his job. But here was a fellow professional within the art community telling him that the best person for the task at hand was someone just like him.

Clearing his throat, Marcus tilted his left hand, careful not to spill his coffee, so he could read the time on his wristwatch. It was just after 11. No time like the present, right? “Would it be too much trouble to meet with them this morning? I can be there in half an hour.”

“Of course not, Agent, anything we can do to help. There’s a group tour finishing with that section of the Gallery now, but once they’re done I’ll rope off the wing so that you won’t be disturbed while you’re here.”

She excused herself then, telling him that she needed to go speak with the CA who would be guiding him. Marcus thanked her and hung up the phone, sliding it into his jacket pocket. He let out another sigh, this one heftier and more satisfying as it left his lungs.

Finally, a break in this case that goes my way.

Heading away from the coffee cart and toward where his car was parked, he tried to keep the next thought from materializing. He failed.

It’s not just this case that I haven’t caught a break in. It’s been… everything.

Though it had been nearly eight months since he’d left Texas, the way things ended between him and Teresa still stung when he thought about it. The sting was made worse by the fact that if their roles were swapped, she wouldn’t need a CA to assist on the case, because she had matched and had lived with color for years.

Jane had been the one to let the spectrum into her life. It had given Marcus pause at first, when she told him. But Teresa had insisted that it was simply because they were such good friends - that they connected on a level that was purely platonic. Hers hadn’t been one of those sudden, blinding explosions of color that some people experienced, but a steady glow as she got to know the man. That, along with the fact that Jane had been able to see color before meeting Teresa - his match had been his first wife - had been enough to convince Marcus that a serious relationship with her was possible.

Not everyone matched with their partner. He knew that. It didn’t mean a relationship was doomed.

There were other signs though. He frowned as he sipped his coffee. Other things I ignored.

Like the time he asked Teresa to describe the colors of a sunset they watched together . “I don’t know, Marcus.” She looked at him as if he’d asked her to solve a complex mathematical equation instead of helping him to understand the world around him. “It’s orange.”

“Yeah,” he’d said, one arm wrapped around her to bring her closer to his side, his lips landing near her temple. “But what does that mean? What does it make you feel?”

She’d only stared at him, shaking her head. “Warm, I guess? I don’t know, I can’t explain it. Hopefully someday you’ll be able to see for yourself.”

That had been the end of that conversation. Marcus never tried to get her to describe colors to him again. He told himself that he didn’t want to put her on the spot. But if he was being honest, it was because he didn’t want to think about what it meant that she wasn’t even willing to try.

But I can’t think about that right now. I need to… Need to think about this case. And I need to let go of what happened in Texas if I want to have any hope of finding something real.

Reaching his car, he got in and entered the address of the Gallery into his GPS. The automated voice and the gray arrow on the screen helped him concentrate, and before long he was pulling into the visitor parking lot.

Alright, Pike. He took a long swig of his coffee to drain it, setting the empty cup - one that he was told was brown with green stripes but only saw as light gray with darker gray lines - into the holder in the center console. Time to focus.

As promised, Michelle had roped off the Rothko exhibit, a security guard leading him there after Marcus showed the man his badge. As he waited in the room, he walked around and looked closely at the various color-blocked paintings on display - squares and lines and rectangles that all appeared to be in grayscale.

I can’t even imagine what it would be like to see these. Really see them.

Before he could get too lost in his fantasy, he heard a pair of footsteps getting closer. Turning, he saw you and began closing the distance.

“Agent Marcus Pike,” he introduced himself, holding his hand out to you with a smile.

You returned the smile and the introduction, fingers wrapping around his hand to bring your palms together. The moment you did, the room erupted in hues he didn’t have names for. The paintings that surrounded him seemed to glow, their colors radiating from the frames to shine directly on you. He sucked in a breath, a rush of emotion coursing through his chest.

I… I can see. It’s her.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. Not even to glance around at the heavily saturated works he was there to study.

“Marcus?” Your voice came out as a whisper, and he saw the wonder in your expression, noticed the way that your breath came quickly and unevenly. He noticed the way that he felt relaxed and calm as blue and green shimmered in the corners of his vision and a soft tingle spread along his spine. “I… I don’t think you need me to-”

“No. I do.” He said your name again, smiling around it, letting it roll off his tongue. “I definitely do.”

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list, please feel free to let me know. You can also fill out the form on my Masterlist! :)

Tags: @something-tofightfor @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @alraedesigns @practicalghost @tanzthompson @amb11 @haylzcyon @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @swtaura @thescarletfang @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @jedi-in-crocs @hannahkatharinee

#12 a palooza!#1200 followers 1200 words #marcus pike x f!reader #marcus pike x female reader #pedrostories #marcus pike x you #soulmate au #marcus pike the mentalist #marcus pike fic #pedro pascal character #ready to hope

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starkenobi · 2 months ago

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Welcome, earthlings!

Contents you'll find here: marvel, star wars, x-files, doctor who, twin peaks, fabulous actresses, iwtv amc, halsey, pedro pascal, oscar isaac, tvshows, films, some korean dramas and singers.

this is a lgbtqia+ safe space!

I'm currently writing for marvel characters. The majority of the stories have a female reader as a romantic lead and individual warnings.

my inbox is open for: fics and writing asks, gossip about tvshows and films, ramble about everything and anything!

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED!

my tags if you wish to filter something out: starkenobi writing; starkenobi recs; starkenobi asks; starkenobi reblogs; starkenobi ramblings.

english isn’t my first language, and i don't mind if you call me inbox or dm to point out errors or typos. but please be kind!

starkenobi comes from the names tony stark + obiwan kenobi, two of my top 10 favorite characters!

starting this blog from scratch, so your support means a lot! 💜

⋮ MASTERLIST!

✍️ mostly bucky barnes, natasha romanoff, and tony stark. there's a miscellaneous characters list too: matt murdock, wanda maximoff, and steve rogers.

Demonic Domination Masterlist

coming january

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Reder; Bucky Barnes x Reader; Matt Murdock x Reader.

Sumary: Y/N doesn’t classify herself as a vigilante or, as people on the internet say, an antihero. No, she’s just an occult detective with a fucking amnesia trying to create a new life beyond her secret mutant status. At first, she really tried to keep a normal civilian life, but it’s difficult when you’re rescued from a dark place by a man dressed as a mummy ninja calling himself Moon Knight. So, anyway, working as an occult detective makes her travel around the world, and it’s cool because it gives her a lot of stories… Until her feet touch New York grounds. It’s all downhill from there.

Warnings: +18 romance; angst; fluff; smut; violence; torture; gore; not following 100% mcu events; bisexuality; pseudo harem; feelings.

✸ Bucky Barnes

ᯓ Christmas Elves | Bucky Barnes x reader | mcu; fluff; drabble.

ᯓ Courage Drink | Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader | mcu; fluff, drabble.

ᯓ Handsome | Bucky Barnes x avemger!reader | mcu; fluff; established relationship; drabble

ᯓ Stupidly in Love | Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader | mcu; idiots to lovers; misunderstanding; romcom; fluff.

ᯓ The White Wolf | Bucky Barnes x reader | fantasy au; romance; soulmates; werewolf!bucky; pirate!reader; prince!bucky; stark!reader.

✸ Natasha Romanoff

ᯓ Friday Night | Natasha Romanoff x mutant!reader | fluff; strangers to lovers; mutant harassment; drabble.

ᯓ KAZINO | ao3 | Natasha Romanoff x reader | +18 romance; mafia; strangers to lovers; angst with happy ending. [tumblr post]

ᯓ Sleepover | Natasha Romanoff x avenger!reader | unrequited love, angst with no happy ending.

ᯓ Truth or Dare | Natasha Romanoff x avenger!reader | mcu; +18 romance; a bit of smut and a bit of fluff.

ᯓ With Love | Natasha Romanoff x avenger!reader | mcu; fluff; acquaintances to lovers; flirty.

— Coming soon

ᯓ More Than a Friend | Natasha Romanoff x avenger!reader | mcu; fluff; miscommunication; romcom.

✸ Tony Stark

ᯓ Dracarys! | Tony Stark x avenger!reader | mcu; fluff; established relationship; drabble.

ᯓ Draw me like one of your french girls | Tony Stark x avenger!reader | mcu; established relationship; fluff; flirty.

ᯓ Lovesick | Tony Stark x reader | apocalypse au; romance; angst with no happy ending; description of disease and death.

ᯓ Menace | Tony Stark x avenger!reader | mcu; +18 romance; established relationship; explicit content.

✸ Other Characters

ᯓ Damn it | Steve Rogers x avenger!reader | missing the flirting when it's gone; angstish; new member!reader; drabble.

ᯓ JamaisVu | Matt Murdock x reader | soulmates; hanahaki; angst no happy ending.

— Coming soon

ᯓ Bring Me to Life | Wanda Maximoff x reader | fantasy; romance; soulmates; princess!reader.

— other stuff:

🇧🇷 gosta de ler originais? às vezes posto contos sáficos e ficção especulativa (além de outras coisas) na minha newsletter!

#natasha romanoff x reader #bucky barnes x reader #tony stark x reader #matt murdock x reader #marvel reader #mcu reader #winter soldier x reader #black widow x reader #daredevil x reader #iron man x reader #mcu #marvel #bisexual natasha romanoff #bisexual characters #lgbtqia marvel #starkenobi writing #wanda maximoff x reader #scarlet witch x reader

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wxckedwxrld · 1 year ago

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headcannons

• harry potter

• law & order: svu

• marvel

• narcos

• narnia

• peaky blinders

• riverdale

• 7ds

• Star Wars

• supernatural

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justreadingthings · 2 years ago

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Clever soul? Oh that’s perfect ❤️ I’m already fully loving these two and their back and forth haha. And I’m so ready for Din to help his clever soul get her revenge 😈 I’m so excited for more!

INEVITABLE [2]

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: language, mentions of the slave trade, canon violence, blood and injuries

word count: 6,030

Summary: It was like fate or destiny had planned from the beginning for you to be on the run from the law. With the words ‘I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold’ adorning your rib cage you always wondered what was worse: Knowing you were bound to being wanted or realizing your soulmate was a cursed bounty hunter. You had a mission to finish and no bounty hunter, soulmate or not, was going to stop you.

[previous] [next]

02: FALLING FOR YOU

"courage is knowing it might hurt, and doing it anyways. stupidity is the same. and that's why life is hard." ⏤jeremy goldberg

It had been a very long time since Din was nervous before a hunt. Wary, maybe, or concerned, but not nervous. He had retreated to the Razor Crest for the night, needing the time to mentally and emotionally spiral while in the safety of his own ship, then the next day he started tracking you down once more. Din thought surely you would’ve left Bespin entirely, but he tracked you back to a cantina. A different cantina. But still.

Just as he had yesterday, Din simply stepped into the building. He had planned to be more tactful today, but realizing you were in another cantina had been curious enough to throw him off entirely. You sat at the bar this time, turned so you could lean your back against the counter, with pretty eyes glancing around the room. Your eyes darted to him, away, then back again. Din expected a lot of reactions to his presence, but he never would’ve guessed that you’d roll your eyes with a huff and turn back around.

What the hell?

Din crossed the room. Grogu whined from inside the closed pram floating behind him. The child hated being locked away, and Din hated locking him away, but he didn’t trust himself around this quarry. And that’s what you were. A quarry. He had to remind himself of that again.

“Can I buy you a drink, bucket head?” You asked. Din narrowed his eyes at you in a glare⏤ knowing good and well you couldn’t see it, but it made him feel better to do it. You glanced over your shoulder at him with that same infuriating smirk you shot him yesterday. “What’s your poison of choice?”

“You’re coming with me.” Din demanded.

“Mmm, no thanks.”

Din shook his head, “That wasn’t a choice.”

“It kind of felt like a choice when I kicked your ass yesterday and ran.” You snickered. “Mandalorian.”

The way you said his title was mocking and it made Din’s skin bristle with irritation. His hands drifted to his hips and he leaned in toward you. “Get up now.”

You groaned. “Seriously, bucket head⏤”

“Don’t call me that.” He snapped.

“⏤what do I have to do to get you off my back?” You had continued on, unphased by his demeanor. “Credits? Is that what gets you going in the morning?” You turned back around, maintaining your confident posture, and it put your face by his. “I can get you some credits. Probably. Do you take IOUs?”

Din tried to keep his composure. He had dealt with plenty of quarries who mouthed off to him, but this was the quickest it had actually worked. Din leaned back to stand tall once more. You quirked an eyebrow up at him and he locked his jaw. He wondered if you could hear his teeth grind together. Din reached to his belt, pulling off the binders, and slammed them on the counter by you.

“Put them on.”

“That’s a bit lazy of you, don’t you think?” You replied. “At least all the other hunters I faced did their own dirty work.”

Briefly, Din felt a flash of anger at the thought of a bunch of hunters manhandling you. It was gone as quick as it came, and the feeling was replaced with annoyance that it came at all. This soulmate thing was becoming a real nuisance. Fine. You wanted to make this difficult? Din would be the bounty hunter you expected him to be.

Din grabbed you by the wrist roughly, spinning you in your seat so he could twist your arm behind you. His other hand grasped you by the back of the neck and he slammed you into the counter. The sound of your grunt of pain made his grip marginally loosen. He leaned in once more, “Anything to say now?”

“Now? No.” You replied. “But I’ll let you know if I think of something.”

If Din thought fate had been ridiculous before for picking a quarry as his soulmate, he was really hating it now. Not only was his soulmate a quarry, but it was a smartass slave trader with the most aggravating of smirks. Maker, he was looking forward to shoving you into the carbonite freezer. Din grabbed the binders off the counter and connected it to both your wrists behind your back. He ripped you up and out of your seat then without a beat he began to shove you out of the cantina.

You begun to kick your feet, slowing your pace, and Din grabbed you by your upper arm so he could drag you along as needed. Din turned his head to look at you in skepticism. Yesterday, you had been quick to plan an escape route, but now you were going willingly? He didn’t trust it.

“Tell me, why would you go to a second cantina knowing I’m chasing you?” Din blurted.

“You want me to just reveal my grand master plan? I think not.” You chuckled. “You can just keep on wondering, bucket head.”

“It’s… reckless.” Din wanted to use the word ‘stupid’, but he couldn’t force it out.

You shrugged best you could with his hand wrapped tightly around your arm. “I’m reckless. What’s your point?” He shouldn’t have even asked. Din shook his head and mumbled curses under his breath. He was able to get you a few more streets over before you cried out in pain and hunched over. “Ow, ow. Wait⏤ Hang on.”

Din’s feet skidded to a stop. “What?”

“My leg. I just⏤ Let me lean for a second, okay?” You grunted and limped over with him in tow to lean against a hand railing. Din looked for any obvious injuries. “You’ve been dragging me down the road, you ass.”

Guilt rolled through him like a crashing wave no matter how much he tried to hold it back. His fingers loosened around your upper arm. Half a sigh left his lips a fist suddenly slammed up into his side right under his diaphragm making his breath stutter. Din spun, but you had already hooked one end of the binders around his wrist and the other to the metal bar you had been leaned against. He went to grab you, but you threw yourself over the bar and away from him. His hand shot to his blaster, but Din found it in your hand.

“How…” He breathed and glanced down at his situation.

Din reached for the keys on his belt, but while one of your hands held him at blaster point the other held up the keys. He blinked in shock. Din would never admit it aloud, he could barely admit it to himself, but he was mildly impressed. In fact, he’d be very impressed if his anger wasn’t overshadowing everything else.

“I’m a pickpocket. Should’ve warned you.” You shrugged. “Listen, how about we end our working relationship here.” Din huffed and tried to pull his arm free from the metal bar uselessly. “I’ve hit all the cantinas I need to in this city so I’m gonna be on my way, and I’m gonna leave you here. Let’s just agree to part ways as bitter friends.”

Din gnashed his teeth. “Release me. Now.”

“Yikes.” You made a clicking noise with your mouth. “You’re not exactly in the position to be making demands, bucket head.” You threw the key over your shoulder and then tossed the blaster as well⏤ so both would be out of reach from him. “It was so nice to meet you, by the way. Would love to never meet up again.”

You winked at him and he glared at you the entire time you sprinted away. Din turned to the pram to see Grogu had already opened the hatch and was staring at him. Din tugged on the binders once more, fruitlessly, then motioned to them. Grogu hopped out of his pram with a mischievous giggle and Din let his head fall against the metal bar with a ‘clang’.

The Mandalorian was pestering. You had a bad feeling he wouldn’t just give up. In fact, arguably, he could come after you with a vengeance after you hooked him to a metal bar. He’d get out free, but you hoped you could get a few worlds away before he did. You had a feeling no matter who he asked on the street to grab the key and blaster they’d steer around him without making eye contact. The faults of being an intimidating Mandalorian, you supposed.

You were on your way back to the local tarmac in hopes that you could bum a ride off someone. As you walked, you had pulled out your list to scratch names off. Technically, there were a few other places you needed to check, other cities, but it’d be a little awkward for you to sit in your third cantina of this world and have the Mandalorian walk in again. Maybe for now you’d put off the rest of Bespin and come back later.

“Lookie, lookie.” A whiny voice sang in a tone that made you wince. A slimy looking human stepped into your path from around the corner. A group of four other unfamiliar men stepped out behind him. He whistled. “The Mandalorian’s friend is all alone.”

You narrowed your eyes in disbelief. “Friend? Excuse me?”

“Don’t play coy.” He snapped. “We saw you with him.”

“Yeah, alright, and what part of seeing us together made you think we’re friends?” You scoffed. “Was it the part where I broke a bar stool over his head or when he put me in a pair of binders?”

The men behind the first began to mumble skeptically, but the first refused to cave, “No, no. I’m telling you the two of them are⏤ look! Look, here he comes to save her already!” You stiffened in shock and whirled around to see the silver Mandalorian stalking toward you from down the road. How in the hell had he gotten out that quickly? “What did I tell you, boys?”

You scanned the area. To your right were the backs of buildings and the closest alley was further down, beyond the men blocking you. To your left was literally nothing. A protective guard rail and a view of the clouds. So that was out. And now you had a fucking bounty hunter stalking you from behind. Great.

“How about this,” You hissed, “Let me pass then you can beat up on the tin can, yeah?”

“Boss, I don’t think she’s⏤”

“Fine, fine, whatever.” The man snapped. “Get the kriff out of our way.” You gave the Mandalorian, who had paused, a brief salute and hurried past the men who left a space for you. You got a few steps away when you heard the man speak once more. “Don’t forget, I want that beskar. As for the kid, we can just sell it.”

You came to a screeching stop. A chill ran up your spine. A kid? You turned around to see the men slowly approaching the Mandalorian who continued to stand his ground. The pram behind him now rested right beside him and the hatch was open to reveal a small, green creature with large ears and wide, innocent eyes. A kid. Fuck.

The men had completely forgotten about you to focus on the Mandalorian so not a single one of them noticed when you began to approach them once more. In a swift, practiced motion, you drew your dagger and threw it with a precision that came from years of ingrained muscle memory. The blade buried itself into the back of the closest man, and his scream of agony made his friends pause and whirl back around. The Mandalorian took this as his opportunity to strike.

You lunged forward to get your blade back while hiding behind the man’s body best you could to avoid being hit by stray blaster fire. He spun, startling you, and began to swing out to try and make contact. You ducked under his arms to avoid a blow but that put you further into the fray. You didn’t notice the attack coming from your side until an elbow slammed into your face. You heard a crunch, felt the warm blood spray down your face, and with a groan, you hit the ground dazed. One on one you did fairly well in a fight, but more than that and you struggled. You rolled over and glanced up to see even more people showed up to the fight⏤ all friends of the ones you were fighting. They came up from behind the Mandalorian.

Once you were on the ground, it seemed like nobody cared about your presence at all. They swarmed the bounty hunter in a mass. You knew beskar was rare, but this seemed like overkill. A young cry filled the air and you spotted one of the men rushing toward you with a squirming bundle in his arms. The roar of anger that left the Mandalorian was ground shaking, words in a language you didn’t recognize ringing loudly, and it was followed by a wave of fire from his vambrace as he took on every single adversary that came at him.

You jumped up as the guy with the kid rushed by, and on instinct you ran after. Your face throbbed with pain, but you didn't let it hinder your speed. Luck was on your side and the man ended up cornering himself by staying too close to the railing. When he tried to turn down a different road you were able to cut him off and back him up against the guard rail once more.

He reached for the blaster at his hip, but you were faster. You drew the weapon from under your jacket and aimed it at his head. “Don’t.”

“What?” The man narrowed his eyes. “What the kriff is that?”

“Firearm.” You replied. “Nice, isn’t it?” He shifted and you tilted your head. “The slug in this weapon isn’t meant for you. Set the kid down, and I’ll let you walk away.”

The child in his arms squirmed enough to be able to look at you and even from this distance you still couldn’t tell what species it was. But, you could see the kid was young⏤ a toddler at best. You stayed firm in your stance, and the man was nervously shifting as if trying to gauge how serious you were. As if to prove your point further, you pulled back on the revolver’s hammer so the slug clicked into place.

Slowly, the man held the kid away from his chest in surrender but he stopped suddenly, “How do I know you won’t shoot me the second I hand the kid over?”

“I told you,” You said, “This slug has someone else’s name on it.”

“What about the Mandalorian?” He cried. “He’ll kill me.”

“Probably.” You shrugged. “But I figure, you set the kid down and you’ll have time to run at the very least. You hurt the kid, and that block of angry beskar is going to stomp your teeth down your throat.” You gave him a mocking grin. “So, make your choice and make it quick.”

Blaster fire came much too close and you had to duck to avoid being hit by a stray bolt. The Mandalorian was barreling in your direction while the last few fighters fired after him. He barked something and you turned back to see the man holding the kid had been hit. He slumped to the side, hitting the guard rail, and with a surprised chirp the kid went right over the side of the city.

You dropped the firearm and leapt over the edge right after him.

It was perhaps one of your least thought out plans, but the moment your hands grasped the kid you spun in the air and used all the momentum you had to throw him right back over the rail. The few broken bones or concussion he might get from being thrown so violently was better than the fate you were about to meet. Loud wind whipped past you as you fell. This is not how you thought you’d be leaving the world of the living and despite your entire body being filled to the brim with terror and fear as you hurtled through the air there was still just enough room for regret to take root.

Not regret at leaping over the edge for a kid you didn’t know.

Regret that you never got to see the life leave Viktor’s greedy eyes.

Nothing could have surprised you more than a solid force tackling you from behind. The air left your lungs while firm arms wrapped around you and the trajectory of your fall changed as you were suddenly being rocketed up. Glancing over your shoulder best you could, you spotted a chest of silver beskar. Before you could comprehend what was happening your feet touched down on solid ground. The hands wrapped around you dropped and you found yourself falling to your hands and knees⏤ still shaky from falling a few hundred feet.

“Patu.” A chirp followed by excited babbling made you lift your head to see the child standing right in front of you. He reached out and gave your face a little pat. He looked entirely unharmed. The situation was starting to become clear once more and you saw your firearm lying on the ground out of your peripherals.

You lunged for the weapon, but a heavy boot dropped down to rest on it⏤ pining it to the ground. Sheepishly, you peered up to see the Mandalorian staring down at you with his hands on his hips. You pressed your lips together and then scrunched your nose out of habit only to wince in pain from the movement. You cleared your throat. “We, uh, need to stop meeting like this.”

“Get up.” He said tensely. You sighed and pushed to stand, dusting off your pants, and tried to puzzle out if you could make a clean getaway by breaking into a sprint now. The Mandalorian stepped forward, lifting a hand to your face and you flinched back. “Stop. Stay still.”

The bounty hunter’s hands cupped your face in an almost tender way. Your eyes widened in confusion both at his actions and the flickering flame of warmth that sparked in your belly at being this close to a man who was hunting you. His hands shifted, thumbs tracing your cheekbones, and then he used both thumbs to snap your nose into place. You let out a howl of pain and shoved him back, “What the⏤” You lifted to touch your nose and realized it wasn’t nearly as tender anymore. “What the hell, man!?”

“Your nose was broken.” He replied.

“Yeah? Well, warn a girl!” You scoffed.

The Mandalorian tilted his head. “Would you have let me fix it if I warned you?” No. Of course not. You mocked him under your breath by mumbling his words. He nodded. “Thank you.”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. For saving my son.”

You glanced back at the small child standing by your boot now. He gave your leg a little pat before waddling over to this father. The Mandalorian picked him up and you wondered if the man under the armor was just as green as the kid. How did he fit ears like that under his helmet?

You pointed down to his boot, “That’s mine. Giving it back to me and letting me walk away would be a real cool thank you gift.” The metal pram from earlier drifted toward the two of you and when it came to a stop the boy jumped from the armored arms holding him into the floating crib. You were surprised to see the man move his boot out of the way and bend over to pick up your weapon. The Mandalorian held it out to you and your lips twitched up in excitement. “Glad to see we could settle this, bucket head.”

The second your hand grabbed the firearm you realized he wasn’t letting it go, but before you could tug or even speak his other hand shot up and clicked one binder around your wrist. You gasped, “You dick.” You could’ve sworn a chuckle left the helmet’s modulator. He tucked the firearm into his belt and then clicked the other half of the binder to his own wrist. “Is this because I called you bucket head?”

“That didn’t help.”

“So, I save your kid, and you still arrest me?”

“Yes.” He nodded and leaned into your space to pull the blade from the sheath around your thigh. He tucked that into his belt as well and took a few steps away. You dug your heels in. “Walk.”

“What about⏤”

“Walk.”

You grumbled in annoyance and picked up your feet. He seemed nonplussed with having to drag you down the road and it looked like his end goal was the tarmac where you had initially planned to be. The pram lingered beside you and the green child was babbling excitedly as if the two of you were having a full blown conversation. You kept glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Your kid talks a lot.” You said, tugging on the arm connected to him⏤ not that it seemed to bother him.

“So do you.” He hit back.

“That’s…fair.” You admitted. “Where are you taking the savior of your child?”

“I could’ve saved him without you.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, well, if I knew you had a kriffing jackpack I would’ve let you.” The Mandalorian came to a sudden stop and it jerked on your arm. “Bucket head, come on! Seriously?”

“You didn’t know I had a jetpack?”

You narrowed your eyes at him trying to figure out the catch behind this obvious trick question. You shook your head. “Why would I know that?”

“When we met, I saw you watching me.” He replied. “You were checking me for all my weapons.”

You winked, “Maybe I was just checking you out.”

“Stop.” The Mandalorian said firmly and started walking again. The two of you got a few more feet before he spoke up once more. “If you didn’t know I had a jetpack, why would you jump over the edge?”

“Did you miss the part where your kid went flying over first?”

“You’d be willing to die for a stranger?”

You shrugged. “He’s a kid.” The Mandalorian stopped again and turned to stare at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in mild annoyance. Why was this conversation still happening? Maker, at this point you were hoping to be thrown in a carbonite freezer just to avoid his heavy gaze and questions. “Can you finish arresting me please?”

After a beat, the Mandalorian began to walk and you took that as a victory. You’d take what you could get today.

Watching that bastard grab Grogu and run away while he was left trapped in a mob of smugglers was the most rage Din had felt in quite a long time. He had been ruthless in cutting down the men that swarmed him, and he would’ve killed every last one in that moment if he had the time. As soon as he had a window, Din was sprinting after the man who had taken his son.

Din hadn’t even realized you were still around until he saw you holding the man at the end of your weapon. The blaster bolts that fired around him missed you by an inch, but it hit the man right in the side and all of Din’s rage turned to fear when he watched Grogu get thrown over the edge. Even knowing he’d be able to fly after him⏤ it didn’t stop his stomach from turning to lead. Then fear morphed into absolute confusion when he watched you drop your weapon and literally leap over the railing. You disappeared out of sight and seconds later Grogu came flying over the railing back to safety. Din lunged forward to catch the kid before he hit the ground.

“Gev!” Din set Grogu on the ground, pointing at the boy to make it known he was serious, and then Din dove over the edge.

He didn’t understand, couldn’t fathom, what was going through your head. What kind of quarry would stop mid-escape to risk their life in the way you had? You had been in the clear. The smuggler’s let you pass and instead of disappearing when the opportunity presented itself, you came back and stabbed one of them. Din hated to admit it, but he had also been very aware that you stayed in the fight and he had a visceral reaction to watching you get elbowed in the face hard enough to collapse.

It was how the smugglers got the opportunity to grab Grogu.

Like a kriffing idiot, he had gotten distracted and nearly lost his son because of it.

‘He’s a kid.’ Your voice echoed through his head the entire walk to the tarmac. Initially, Din had been confused why you’d trust him to actually catch you. Did you actually know who he was? Your soulmate? And you assumed he’d have to catch you? But, when you admitted that you had no idea he even had a jetpack, Din felt floored. You hadn’t jumped over the edge trusting he’d catch you. You jumped over the edge thinking it was going to be the last thing you ever did, and you did it to save a stranger. No, a kid. That’s what you said. The look on your face, the tone of your voice, it was natural instinct for you. The obvious choice.

You hadn’t given sacrificing your life for a child a second thought.

Din hadn’t decided yet if that made you honorable or insane.

A thought drifted through him before he could stop it. It was an action taken right out of a Mandalorian’s playbook. He forced it out of his head. You were not a Mandalorian. You were a quarry wanted for slave trading. A quarry. His soulmate quarry. Dank farrik. Din lowered the ramp of the Razor Crest and led you on.

“Can I use the fresher before you shove me in carbonite?” Din did a double take at your words⏤ a common occurrence with you he was learning. You seemed to be entirely serious with your request though. You shrugged nonchalantly. “Being frozen with a full bladder is miserable.”

“You’ve been in carbonite before?”

You paused then pointed to your face with a tight lipped smile. “Bounty.”

“I’m not putting you in carbonite.” Din replied. He ignored the confusion drawn on your features and closed the ramp. Din then unlatched the binders and pointed down the very short hall. When Peli had rebuilt the Crest for him he had it modified for just a bit more space, but the fresher was nearly laid out in the same position. “Fresher’s that way. There’s no weapons in there.”

Din wanted to get the ship up in the air right now, but he didn’t trust you not to make a break for it. He got Grogu settled with a ration bar and then he perched himself on the edge of a supply crate facing toward the fresher. While waiting, Din pulled your weapon out from his belt and admired the metal work. A slugthrower. Impressive. He hadn’t seen one in a hot minute, and this one was built by someone who knew what they were doing. The dark metal was carved with swirls and designs of gold. The handle carved in wood and ivory. Though he hadn’t seen one in ages, Din was familiar with firearms. He popped out the ornate cylinder and raised an eyebrow at the single slug loaded in. All other five slots were empty.

The other weapon you carried was a simple metal dagger. Not as rare, but vibroblades were more popular.

The mystery of who you were seemed to grow with every second he was stuck with you.

Din set the firearm down by his thigh and unintentionally his hand drifted up to rest over his left ribcage where your words stained his skin. ‘Would you really arrest your soulmate?’ All those years he thought those words, rolled them around in his head, there was a sharp difference. Now, he heard the words in your voice rather than his own. Even once he rid himself of you, that would linger.

He heard you shifting in the fresher and drew his own blaster to rest on his thigh⏤ pointed toward where you’d be, but with the trigger finger resting on the side of the weapon. He didn’t think he’d need to use it, but if Din had learned one thing about you thus far it was that you were unpredictable.

The fresher doors slid open and you stepped out. When your eyes landed on him, you let out a huff and lifted your hands in surrender. “You did a lot of work to just shoot me now.” Din motioned to the ladder leading up into the cockpit with his blaster. “You… want me to climb?” He pushed off the crate and gave a single nod. “Yeah, alright, sure.” You sighed and walked to the ladder. You paused to glance over your shoulder to Grogu who was still scarfing down his ration bar. “Your dad is kind of a dick. Anybody tell you that before?”

“Buir!” Grogu laughed and followed it with babbling.

“I’m taking that as a yes.” You mumbled to yourself and began to climb. Din followed. He wanted answers from you as much as he wanted to get off this world. At the top of the ladder, Din passed you and ushered you into the cockpit. He pointed to the passenger seat and didn’t miss how you rolled your eyes before dropping down. Din took his own seat, but spun the pilot’s chair around to face you first. He pulled the binders from his belt.

“Hands.” He ordered.

“Oh, good.” You smirked and offered him your wrists. “I was starting to miss these things.”

Din clamped them in place then turned back to begin lift off. It wasn’t until hyperspace that he turned back around, and Din was startled to see your eyes had been drooping closed. At his movement, they snapped open once more and your posture stiffened. He took the moment to really soak you in. Specifically, he let his eyes trace the golden band around your neck⏤ the lights of hyperspace reflected off the material same as it did his own beskar. At first glance, he’d label it a gaudy accessory that didn’t match the worn down nature of the rest of your outfit. However, even from here Din could see the faint scars that half hid under the gold.

It wasn’t a necklace. It was a collar.

“What now, bucket head?”

“Now, you tell me why someone who is clever enough to escape multiple bounty hunters is reckless enough to visit another cantina right after running into me.”

You shrugged. “Maybe you’re not as intimidating as you think you are.”

Din leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, “All the other hunters find you in bars as well. Why’s a slave trader visiting every cantina in the galaxy?”

He really doubted the backstory the bounty puck was giving him now, seeing the metal that adorned your neck, but Din wanted to see your reaction. There was a brief flash of anger across your face, gone as quick as it came, and Din could tell you were biting the inside of your cheek to refrain from saying whatever words were spinning around in your head right now. Finally, you smirked, “I’m on the search for the galaxy’s best cocktail.” You leaned forward. “You wouldn’t believe what world is in the lead, Mandalorian.”

Din wasn’t sure what was more ironic⏤ that fate lumped him together with a quarry or that fate picked a person who never knew when to shut up. He shook his head, “You asked me earlier what it would take to get me off your back.” Your eyes marginally widened. “Do you still want to know?”

“Name it.” You answered.

“I want answers.” He stressed and watched as your jaw locked in irritation again. “What are you searching the galaxy for?”

For a long moment, you just stared at him. Din could see you analyzing him. It was that simple action, and the way he saw you sizing him up when you first met, that told him you weren’t just some mouthy, arrogant idiot. You were clever. It was probably how you escaped so many bounty hunters in the past.

You shrugged, “Revenge.”

The answer didn’t necessarily startle him. It was only revenge, love, and greed that could have someone dedicate so much time to their end goal. Piecing together the parts of the puzzle he had gave him a blurry image. Din nodded, “Whoever you’re going after, do they deserve it?”

“Yes.” You replied without even a pause. “They do.”

You didn’t fully understand the line of questioning being thrown your way, but considering the options it wasn’t the worst scenario you found yourself in. The Mandalorian had turned back around without another word after asking you his last question and it now left you sitting in your seat exhausted and confused. More than anything you craved sleep. After your last 24 hours that wasn’t surprising. What did surprise you was how easily you were dozing off while being in this too small cockpit with the Mandalorian bounty hunter. It was like your stupid body didn’t perceive him as a current threat.

Maybe he wasn’t. He said he wasn’t going to throw you in the carbonite freezer, and from what you knew about Mandalorians they were the type who held honor above nearly everything else. You had given your freedom to save his kid and you prayed he didn’t take that action lightly.

“I have another question.” The Mandalorian spoke without turning.

“Alright, but if you get another one then I’m allowed one now too.” You argued.

You just barely saw the tilt of his helmet in agreement. A part of you hoped he was done questioning you about your goals in life. It wasn’t a topic you wanted to explore any further with this stranger. But, the Mandalorian caught you off guard by veering far away from his previous questions.

“What you said when we met…” He hummed, “What did you mean by that?”

“The soulmate thing?” You snorted. “Yeah, hilarious, isn’t it? You spooked me for a second with how quiet you got after I said it, but now I know silence is just your go-to intimidation tactic, bucket head.” From where you sat you could see him stiffen and assumed it was from your chosen nickname for him. “Does your kind even have soulmates? Do I need to explain⏤”

“My kind?” He finally glanced over at you.

“Yeah. Whatever you are.”

“I’m human.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, you’re not allowed to sound so surprised that I didn’t know. You’re covered from head to toe in metal, and I just assumed you were the same kind as your kid.”

“Grogu was…adopted.” He replied.

Huh. Grogu. That was the kid’s name. Well, that was one of two that you got. You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees after he turned back around to scan a map on the control panel. “So? What do I call you then? What’s your name?”

“Mando. You can call me Mando.”

“Mando as in Mandalorian?” You laughed. “Maker, even ‘bucket head’ is more imaginative than that. You seriously go by that?” Mando didn’t reply and you snickered some more under your breath before leaning back. “I’ll consider it, bucket head.”

You could hear him mumble a string of words that you were going to assume was his native language. You'd also assume he was cursing. That's usually the response you got. The cockpit was filled with the comfortable silence of hyperspace and despite being seated on a metal chair, you began to doze off again. It was getting harder and harder to keep your heavy lids open, and faintly you thought you heard the Mandalorian speak once more before you lost the battle against unconsciousness.

“Sleep, mirdala runi. You’re safe.”

mando'a translations:

gev: stop (stay) /// buir: Parent (father) /// mirdala runi: Clever soul

taglist: @onceinamando @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @harriedandharassed @aheadfullofsteverogers @elfamosotoga @the-anchored-sailor-girl @garbo-lesbo @moonlqghts @stokeholdsblogdsblog @morks-watermelon @http-onie

#din djarin x reader #pedro pascal x reader #soulmate au

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