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hotvintagepoll · 4 months

Text

Propaganda

Cary Grant (The Philadelphia Story, His Girl Friday, Bringing Up Baby, Charade)—just the peak of old-school Hollywood sexuality. The glam, the suits, the gentle wit, the acrobatics, those eyes that always looked like they knew exactly what movie they were in and were laughing at the joke...

Vincent Price (Laura, Leave Her to Heaven, House on Haunted Hill, The Masque of the Red Death)—svelte, stylish, horrifying, beautiful, wickedly funny, camp and gorgeous and evil. he was an art connoisseur who advocated passionately indigenous art, he was an actual literal gourmet cook, he was so liberal he got greylisted during the mccarthy era for being too rad, he's my favorite muppets guest of all time

This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Vincent Price propaganda:

Submitted: this fancam

Submitted: this entire Tumblr page

Cary Grant propaganda:

"My Golden Age of Hollywood professor, who was very outwardly gay himself, put it this way: Even though Grant's sexuality was kind of an open secret in Hollywood, the public couldn't know in any real way. But anybody could see that there was a queerness about him, so he was casted for roles where he physically embodies his masculinity in a non-explicit but queer way. Bringing Up Baby is famous for the scene where Grant wears a frilly robe (pictured below, but what people don't always realise is that he plays kind of an awkward nerd in that movie. He's a hot awkward scientist in a grand robe!!! Hot!!! In The Philadelphia Story, one of my famous movies of all time, he plays C. K. Dexter Haven, a rich, sarcastic, supposedly abusive guy. And yet, what we see is this laid back, dandy-ish figure, who absolutely does not feel threatened when a woman he supposedly loves (Katharine Hepburn) starts having feelings for, and hooks up with another guy (James Stewart). He lets a drunk Stewart into his office and helps him get his job back! Obviously that is the script and not the actor, but the whole film, and that scene in particular, shows him having this very queer attitude of openness toward Hepburn and Stewart, which is only amplified by the casting of Grant and his portrayal of the character. Anyway, this is not an essay arguing for The Philadelphia Story to be considered a queer film, all I will say is: he's super hot in it."

The link to the above mentioned frilly robe scene from Bringing Up Baby: "I just went gay all of a sudden!"

last minute cary grant propaganda: the last few paragraphs of that new vanity fair article about him and randolph scott that just came out 2 days ago on cary's birthday where he calls it "gravity collapse" and "love at first sight" and says their souls touched and and and i'm actually sharing this mostly because it makes me emotional but also because a vote for archibald is a vote for love. this is my message. apologies for sounding mildly insane.

#vincent price #cary grant #round 4 #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old man

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larueluvr · 4 months

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Hands off

Clarisse La Rue x Fem! daughter of demeter!reader

Warnings: Sexual harassment, some gross boy, unwanted touch, swearing, some fluff near the end, petnames, established relationship between Clarisse and read- implied to have been dating for a while, I think thats all but let me know if I missed anything :)

Apologies in advance to anybody named Jackson 🙏🏼

It's pretty short cause this is my first time writing in Tumblr

You and Clarisse had a perfect contrast of personalities. You were know as the counselor of the Demeter cabin: kind, collected, and gentle. Clarisse, on the other hand, was regarded by several campers as temperamental and mean. She'd never been like that with you, though. Sure you'd seen that side of her in some situations, but it'd never been directed at you. To her, you were an angel. A queen. And she'd rather every person in that camp think of her as some aggressive bully before she'd ever let anyone treat you otherwise.

You and Clarisse had met up for the camp bonfire not long ago: maybe 30 minutes or so before she'd been asked by a younger camper of Ares cabin for some help, begrudgingly leaving the space beside you empty and promising to be back quick.

After a few minutes by yourself, you heard footsteps trailing up behind you. The person stepped over the log you were sat on and you turned your head to see a boy you weren't sure you'd met before sitting a bit too close for your comfort. He was tall, decently bigger than you, with muscles and long-ish wavy brown hair which you honestly doubted had been washed in a few days.

"Jackson. Cabin 12" he introduced himself. Dionysus. You figured that explained the smirk of false confidence he wore as he rested a hand on your knee. "Im-" "I know who you are" he cuts you off. Your face contorted into a strange mix of a frown and grimace. "You're y/n. I've had my eye on you." His smile as he says this seemed as though it were meant to charm you, though that paired with what he said only gave you an uneasy feeling as you lifted his hand off your knee and promptly dropped it.

"Actually I was gonna say I'm seeing someone" you reply shortly. He chuckles, less humor to it though as it seems more mocking than anything, moving his hand back to your knee with more force to it this time, and his other taking your hand in his. "And I'm sure that 'someone' couldn't possibly make you feel as good as I can."

"She actually-" him cutting you off was starting to seriously piss you off, as well as this frankly disgusting hand placement. "She? Oh you're way too pretty to be gay, princess. Maybe you just need the right guy. Y'know, if you gave me a chance I could be that for you." You made another attempt to pull your hand from his and remove his other off your knee, ultimately failing due to the force he used.

"Don't call me that. And get the hell off me" you say harshly, pushing against his arm as his hand travels the tiniest bit up from your knee. "Just let me prove it to you" he says with sickly flirty tone.

Before you could respond, you saw a familiar figure speed past you and to the boy sat beside you. His touch was removed in an instant as he was lifted from his seat and held by his shirt as your girlfriend stood angrily Infront of him, everyone's gaze falling upon the scene unfolding. "Get your hands off of her before you fucking lose them" she says loudly, shoving him onto the ground and watching with a sadistic smirk as she watches him scamper off weakly, having lost every ounce of that confident facade he'd worn just moment ago.

Looking away, she saw the eyes on you both and she knew the affect it'd have on you. "What!?" She shouts, resulting in each and every person returning to (or at least pretending to) do what they had been doing.

The second she turned back to you she saw that look on your face that she knew all to well. She walked over and placed a hand on your back as she lead you away and back to your cabin where it could just be you two since everyone was out at the bonfire or wandering camp.

The second that door shut your arms were wrapped around her, head in the crook of her neck, yet you stayed silent. "You're okay. I got you," she assures as her arms wrap around your waist. She may not have been the best at comforting people but she'd picked some stuff up from you not only watching you with the younger campers in your cabin, but from you comforting her. In a way, you'd softened her. Unsurprisingly, you were the only one who got to see that side of her. You sigh, and she combs her fingers through your hair the way you always did for her.

"Thank you," you whisper softly. "It's my job," she says playfully "as your awesome, amazing, totally hot girlfriend that could, and does, treat you about a million times better than that asshole ever could." You move your head from her shoulder and look up at her with a soft smile as her hands rest on your waist and yours on her shoulders.

"You're an idiot." "think I remember you calling me your idiot, mama." she teases as she lifts your hand and presses a delicate kiss to the back of it.

#riodanverse #pjo x reader #percy jackson x reader #clarisse la rue #clarisse pjo #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #pjo books #pjo tv show #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson series #clarisse la rue fluff

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commanderyes · 3 months

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The Commander Says Goodbye

I’m not going to lie, I’m extremely anxious as i’m writing this, out of what these news could mean to a lot of people, and my heart feels heavy enough it could drop down my ribcage any minute from now and squish all my other organs. But I’ve been dancing around this topic for a long time now, and I think i��ve finally reached a point where i can’t ignore it anymore, for my own sake.

I hereby announce Commander Yes has come to an end.

As I’ve mentioned plenty of times before, here and to many other people, when I began this comic all the way back in 2018 I was in a really bad, really low place in my life in every sense of the word, and it was a spur-of-the moment decision to cheer myself up, because Path of Fire had just released and my enjoyment of the game had reached fever pitch and I had been playing Guild Wars 2 alone since as far as launch, and none of my other friends had ever really gotten into it. I guess I just, dunno, cried out into the big maelstrom of the community, one voice amidst millions, because i wanted SOMEBODY to look at what i did and revel in the nerdery with me.

And somehow the snowball began to roll and people wanted more and more of what I could do, and I was being actively reached out to, and, well, some time after that I landed my first ever job, I discovered a lot of things about myself, and I found myself in communities that welcomed me with open arms, and many of the people in there have since become among the best friends I could’ve possibly encountered, kindred souls who i’ve shared joys and sorrows for many years and who I can’t imagine living without anymore.

And all the while I kept making the comics, and with every entry posted every week I’d keep having people stopping to comment on them, and whether they were dumb jokes or personal takes on the story, they’d all share how much what I do kept hitting them in the kokoro, and to this day whenever I play anywhere in the game I still get people who recognize me and thank me for doing what I do. It was wonderful, it IS wonderful, and seeing that response motivated me to keep going, because what did still mattered to people, out there.

But I did always say I planned to keep doing these comics until I ran out of energy for them, and I think i’ve finally reached that point.

Because ever since I actually landed that job I’m exhausted and sleep-deprived every other day, so much so that I only have time to work on the comic on saturdays and sundays, and it gets harder and harder to just sit and draw, and at that point it was just more work, and while I still enjoy and play Guild Wars 2 a lot, it no longer consumes my time and attention like I’ve used to and i’ve been having fun with more personal projects, and honestly the direction the story is taking these days does not sit right with me and it’s hard to find inspiration in that, and this might be borderline selfish but every year I find people care less and less about the comics and it really takes a hit to you motivation when hardly anybody responds after you’ve spent a whole weekend trying to squeeze a five-page comic out.

And, well, I have been doing these for six years straight, and I think that’s a good run. I’m tired, and ready to move on, at long last. Let it be someone else’s turn.

But that’s the beautiful thing about this community, isn’t it? Even if I’m hanging up the hat, there are a whole lot of fantastic artists out there, as we speak, still cranking out works of art, deserving of all the attention they can get. And think of all the artists yet to come! For every story that ends, another story is just about to begin!

The world keeps on spinning, one way or another.

I’ll be closing my patreon shortly after this, but the reddit archives and tumblr blog shall remain for people to browse whenever they feel like (or until they both go in flames, i guess, what social media isn’t about to these days)

I still don’t think I ever was that much of a big deal, but all the same, to everyone who’s ever supported me and helped me be the person I am right now, to everyone who’s been there from the beginning, to all the devs of this game that has captured us for nearly a decade now, to all my fellow players and artists out there

Thank you.

See you out there, fellow commanders. Still the stars find their way.

#guild wars 2 #guild wars 2 fan art #guild wars 2 fan submission #snargle gutslurper #commander yes #that's all folks #thank you for everything #keep loving yourselves okay? you're worth it #all of you #see you in the game :)

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cowgurrrl · 1 year

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Nobody asked but here are my headcanons for Joel as the ultimate girl dad™️

Gets Ellie into a routine as soon as possible so she knows what to expect in her day-to-day life. There’s not much he can guarantee outside of their home but he can make sure she eats, does her homework, and is off to bed at the same time every night.

Speaking of bed, he’s the dad who has a STRICT bedtime set. He can’t sleep until he knows Ellie is safe in bed and even though she’s a teenager he still makes her be in bed by 10 but he absolutely can be persuaded to let her stay up with a long game of cards, guitar lessons, or a movie.

Before Ellie, he would’ve been reckless if it meant keeping Jackson safe but now that he knows she’s relying on him he does things slower and safer.

Maria teaches him how to cut hair so he can help Ellie because he knows how hard it is for her to trust other people especially when they have something that could be used as a weapon so close to her head.

Definitely pushed her into the river while teaching her how to swim. She was pissed and didn’t talk to him until after dinner.

Ellie becomes known as “Joel’s girl” and neither of them correct anybody who says it

Slips notes into Ellie’s backpack when she’s not looking so when she gets to math class and opens her notebook, a sticky note with Joel all-caps handwriting falls out and reads, Why was the toilet paper unstoppable? And on the other side it says, because it was on a roll

He laughed about it for ten minutes before forgetting about it

Ellie secretly keeps all of his notes in a box under her bed

Teaches her how to play football in the spring when all the snow has melted and accuses her of cheating when she scores against him

“How could I cheat? It’s fucking football!” “You’re abusing an old man, you know that?”

Although Ellie never calls Joel dad, there’s an unspoken agreement between them. Joel hated Father’s Day after Sarah died but that Father’s Day they settled, two bouquets of flowers show up on the dining room table with a note from Ellie.

Saw these and thought of you, the note reads. One from me and one from her.

He cries the first time he gets them. He can’t remember the last time anyone gave him flowers.

Lord help the teacher who has to call Joel in for his first parent-teacher conference in twenty years. Everyone is Jackson knows how protective he is over Ellie and her teacher is only slightly terrified of him.

Ellie constantly steals Joel’s shirts and he pretends not to notice

He’s always looking for new tapes for her Walkman and asks every group that comes through Jackson if they have anything

Ellie ends up with three new tapes to listen to by the end of their first year of being settled

Joel knows he’s probably doing a million things wrong and danger is always lurking and the time they have together is fleeting but he does his best to be good for her. He apologizes when he yells, he shows up to her first guitar recital, and constantly reminds her how loved she is even if there aren’t always words exchanged

Sometimes it’s a hug, the squeeze of a hand, or a ruffle of hair but they both know it means so much more. Giving and receiving affection would’ve been seen as a show of weakness in Boston, a vulnerability that others can play into. Here, love doesn’t have to hide or be shunned to the dark corners of their lives. They can just be.

Who knew Ellie tripping Joel while playing football in the spring meadow meant so much more than anyone else thought?

Tumblr if you delete my last paragraph one more time I’m going to gnaw my arm off

#joel miller headcanon #joel miller fluff #joel and ellie #ellie williams #ellie miller #joel miller #joel miller the last of us #joel miller drabble #joel miller x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us hbo #the last of us #ellie williams headcanons #i wrote this for me but you can read it too i guess #pushing my Joel Miller girl dad agenda once again

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ihavemanyhusbands · 3 months

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Hi love, I recently found your tumblr and I'm obsessed, you write so well and i alredy read everthing you wroted <3 would you mind writing a fluff imagine reader x hannibal x will? something like the reader feeling out of place in the relationship, thinking she doesn't fit in with them but them proving her wrong and they love her so much!! Thank you * 3 *

Howdy! Awww thanks so much!! Glad you like my stuff! <33

Thanks for requesting!

———

The sound of Will and Hannibal’s voices turned into a soft din in the background. Your gaze was fixed on the fire dancing in the hearth, your mind further beyond.

The two of them were recounting the events of the day. They’d been assisting Jack with an ongoing investigation, but you hadn’t been listening closely to all the details.

You liked to observe their rapport from time to time — the familiarity, the subtleties, the mutual understanding, among other things. They had met long before you’d come along, and though they didn’t always agree on things, they had their system.

And how you fit into that system wasn’t always clear, leaving you feeling slightly unmoored.

“You’ve gone quiet,” Hannibal’s voice pierced through your daze. “Are we boring you?”

You smiled a little, looking up to see them both looking right back at you.

“No, just thinking,” you said, adjusting your position on the chaise. “Did I miss anything?”

“Not really, just realized we’d been talking for a while,” Will said, eyes scanning your face. “What were you thinking of?”

You shrugged, not really wanting to give those thoughts a voice. He set his glass down and stood up, lifting your legs so he could sit beside you, then placing them over his lap.

“I can tell something’s up,” he said, hands massaging your legs lightly. “How can we help?”

You absently played with a loose thread on your old sweater, meekly glancing at them in turn before sighing.

“I don’t know… it might sound kind of dumb,” you started. “I’ve been thinking… I guess I put myself in the sidelines because, well, I’m not sure where else I should be. Maybe I’m that janky extra piece that sometimes come with puzzles.”

The two of them shared a look, understanding your meaning.

“That’s not true,” Will said with a frown. “You are the last piece of the puzzle, the one that brings everything together.”

You blinked at him in surprise. Hannibal kneeled in front of you so you would be at eye level, taking your hand.

“Perhaps we’ve let the comfort of your presence become… second nature. That was a mistake,” he said, brushing his lips over your knuckles. “Our love is sometimes quiet, but it is still there. I don’t want you to ever doubt it.”

Will squeezed your leg reassuringly, his gaze softening with the bare truth of Hannibal’s words. Giddiness fluttered in your chest, warming you up.

You knew the two of them rarely, if ever, let anybody get close. But you were not just anybody, and their gift had been the trust to fully let you in. What was that if not love?

“I’m surprised you don’t notice me following you around like a lovesick puppy,” Will said, smiling lopsidedly in amusement. “Hannibal won’t let me hear the end of it.”

“I think I’m just in my head too much…” you murmured, biting your lip as Hannibal leaned in to kiss your cheek.

“We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we, Will?” He said.

Will nodded and reached over to take your free hand, thumb tracing over the back of it. “Anything for you.”

——

#will graham x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #hannigram x reader #will graham x hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal fanfiction #minors dni

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byuntrash101 · 1 year

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Partition

reader x dom!mingi ft. jongho

smut | nsfw | mdni

husband!mingi,he's obessessed with you, nipple play, hint of body worship if u squint, praising, exhibitionism, voyeurism, cameo!jongho, marking, pet names, orgasm control, size kink, fingering with rings on, hand kink, im obessesed with his hands just leave me alone

requested | part of my 2023 prompt event [closed]

finally back from a long business trip your husband takes you to a very nice date to celebrate. but after so long apart you are not sure you can keep your hands to yourself on your way to the restaurant

[❛i’m not wearing any underwear. thought you’d like to know.❜]

TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REBLOG MY WORK 🖤

Inspired by Partition by Beyoncé

Took forty-five minutes to get all dressed up

We ain't even gonna make it to this club

Being married to Song Mingi, the extremely successful music producer, came with a price. And that price was time. Mingi’s time was a rare resource and extremely valuable. One day working with the Weeknd on his next album, the next day negotiating to sign with Beyonce. He was always traveling and working.

But despite all of that your husband always made sure you were his top priority and that you knew about it. Whether he would take you around the world with him and catch a nice vacation for the both of you after an intense business trip or he would make sure to take you out to a very nice date on his return.

This time it was the latter. Mingi had been gone for a while. He had to postpone the flight back to Korea a couple of times to get the job done in LA. But finally that was out of the way and he was back to you.

The timing was so tight that it was to the point where he didn’t have time to come home before the date and was just going to pick you up with his chauffeur. He didn't tell you where you were going but he said “to be prepared to be blown away”.

And coming from him that meant a lot. Mingi liked nice things and he always opted for the very best regardless of the price. So knowing that about him you knew the occasion will be anything but modest.

You opted for a lilac designer night gown, with a delicately beaded corsage that complimented your neckline, dipping just low enough. The bottom of the dress was flowy, a gradient color from lilac color to a nude. The material was flowy with light feathers and mesh. It was gorgeous and grandiose. Like the promise of this night finally reunited with your husband.

Your make up was along the line of the dress. Nude with some pop of color on the lids and on the lips. Noticeable but elegant.

When the doorbell rang you felt your stomach tighten. You were nervous. After all these years he still made your guts stir with anticipation. There’s no denying you’re head over hills for this man.

You run to the entryway, grabbing your clutch on the way and open the big mansion door.

When you look up at him you see him as dashing as ever. Cladded in a haute couture black tuxedo. Long ash blonde hair slicked back, just a single strand curved on his forehead. He looked dapper. He held out his hand for you to climb down the front steps to his arm, making sure not to injure yourself with your stiletto heels.

“You’re absolutely stunning," he said, kissing you softly on the lips, his mouth being pulled in the signature half smile that you loved so much.

He opened the door of the limo for you and helped you get in with the dress, setting you in comfortably.

The chauffeur did the same to him and took place behind the wheel.

Mingi gave him instructions on the destination. Your husband was used to bossing people around and it put you in a different mood to hear his stern voice.

You couldn’t help but to want him to boss you too. It was your turn and you couldn't stand one more second of him giving his attention to anybody other than you.

So you let your hand rest on his knee. At first he makes nothing of it and continues to guide the chauffeur around the traffic jam. So you let your hands glide up his thick muscular thigh all the way to his crotch. When your pinky brushes against his sensitive area you stop.

“What are you doing?” Mingi interrupts himself to look at you. Even though it’s a question it’s rhetorical because he knows damn well what you are doing.

“Kiss me” you answered in a feverish tone.

Mingi obliged when you pulled him by his tie. His huge frame towering over you as you felt miniscule, vulnerable and turned on. Your hands started to roam his body through his attire first the thighs then the abs then when you were about to reach his growing bulge he caught your hand.

“Shouldn’t we eat before we get to the dessert?” he lightly chuckles at your enthusiasm. You sighed deeply, visibly annoyed.

What a joykill.

“Fine!” you pouted, sitting yourself back. “But I'm not wearing any underwear. Thought you’d like to know.” you added in a slightly teasing tone.

Mingi’s expression instantly changed. From the light hearted chuckles to the cold and serious eyes that held so much power over you. The turn in his behavior and in his aura was obvious. From loving husband to sex deprived pervert.

He started to wrestle with your dress, lifting it up to testify of the truth of your statement and you squealed in surprise when you found yourself exposed like that without a heads up. Your husband let go of the flowy fabric, hiding your intimacy again behind the numerous linings and looked at you in disbelief.

“You are actually serious”

“Of course I am” you bite back hurriedly flattening the material back in place.

“Fuck baby” Mingi burried his face in the crook of your neck, his deep voice merely a low rumble soaked with lust hitting you right in the chest, tightening your stomach in knots of anticipation. You knew this tone and what it meant.

“I was trying…” he started to kiss your neck going up to your ear. “was trying so fucking hard to behave.” He licked around your ear, wet sounds bouncing back on the low ceiling of the limo, making your arousal leak through the unguarded designer dress.

“Trying to be a good husband, not devouring you the second I laid eyes on you” his hand dug into your waist pulling you closer to him. “But I can’t fucking win with you, can I?” he growled, unexpectedly biting your earlobe.

You were absolutely feral for him. After being separated for such a longtime the only thing you wanted was to be his. His cedarwood and orange blossom cologne was making you dizzy. Hypnotized by his deep voice. Controlled by his big hands.

He started to push your thin straps to the side. But as your chest was about to finally reveal itself to Mingi’s hungry gaze you stopped him.

“Shouldn’t we roll up the partition?” you asked, throwing one worried glance at the chauffeur that seemed a little too focussed on the road to be genuine.

“Don’t worry I pay Jongho well enough for him to keep his mouth shut. Isn’t that right Jongho?”

“It is, Sir” the chauffeur politely responded, expressionless eyes, diligently glued to the road.

“See?” Mingi returned with a sly smirk “Plus you know how much I love showing you off” he tipped your strap over your shoulder, revealing one of your breasts. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and knowing you were potentially being watched didn’t help one bit but somehow it felt thrilling.

Your husband pushed the other strap and soon your chest was on full display for him.

“So fucking perfect for me” he whispered immediately diving in and tasting your fiery skin on his wet tongue.

His mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, teasing it, biting it and sucking it while his hand was fondling and pinching the other. Until they reached full hardness.

You whined at his every touch, barely containing yourself to beg for more, to beg for him.

“Fuck baby show it to me again” he breathed out he as prompt his chin to the dress.

You had a glance to Jongho, still as calm and focused as a meditating monk. And you lifted the dress once again.

Mingi’s jaw dropped in awe. He always considered you as one of the seven wonders of the world. But each time he looked at you it seemed like somehow you got even more perfect.

He brought his hand to gently pull your lips apart. Uncovering the unholy and glistening mess you managed to make in such a short time.

“You’re so fucking wet for me” he sighed, biting down his bottom lip, your shimering folds putting a spell on him.

“Please Mingi” you squirmed. “Please, I want you.”

“Good girl, asking so nicely… Just can’t say no to you”

His thumb circled over your clit, drawing a light gasp out of you. Slow and steady circles only making you gush even more. Mingi slipped one finger inside and you felt like you were melting at the end of his fingers, nails digging in the expensive leather of the limo. Your stilettos barely hanging to your toes.

“Yessss” you whined, finally getting what you’ve been craving for weeks.

“You’re sucking me in so well baby” Mingi praised before slipping a second finger in. You felt the warm metal of his wedding ring entering you and whined louder.

“Please…faster” you asked, short of breath, your mind getting hazy.

“Of course, my princess”

He curled his fingers right into your sweet spot, circling it a couple of times before pumping in and out of you.

His big hands were experts at making you come undone for him, ravaging you in the most pleasant of ways. He knew you like the back of his hand and you couldn't help but to shamelessly moan and every thrust of his wrist.

“That's it baby. We want to hear you squeal” his lustful voice whispered.

We?

You glanced over at the chauffeur again and this time you could have sworn you made eye contact in the rearview mirror while his face was briefly shone under the pacing street lights but… did you imagine that?

“Hmmm baby” Mingi smacked his lips. “You really like giving a good show, huh?” Mingi smirked as he felt you becoming tighter. “Such a good girl for me.” He pumped in and out at a faster pace. A pace that he knew would end you. But since he hadn’t uttered the magic words yet you held it in.

It took everything you had to not cum on the spot. You tried to not think about your husband's lustful eyebrow raises and lip bites, about the unholy squelching wet sounds your wet cunt was producing, about the wandering eyes of Jongho in the front seat. You tried so hard but you were on the verge of exploding.

“Pleaseee” you desperately begged as a last cry for help, a last hopeless request for your release.

“Go ahead my princess” Mingi whispered, administering the fatal blow as his thumb went back to drawing fast circles on your hyper sensitive clit while finger fucking you into oblivion.

“Cum. Now.” his stern low voice ordered.

You instantly came undone. Your pussy gripping around your husband’s beautiful long fingers, stretching you to perfection. Your nectar flowing out of your like a river as you cried out in bliss, throwing your head back on the head rest, eyes rolling back into your skull with fatal joy.

Mingi gradually slowed down, allowing you to come off your high before pulling his digits out of you. You crashed your lips on his not caring about the state of your lipstick and started to fidget with the buttons of his vest but he started to chuckles into the kiss.

“Babe, we’re here” he said, pushing his messy hair back.

“What already?” you pouted in disappointment.

“We’ve been in the car for almost 45 minutes” your husband chuckled again.

“But I…”

“Let’s go baby or they might give our table away… Let's eat and on the way back I'll let you return the favor. How about that?” your eyes darted to his constricted bulge, lips burning at the idea of tasting him.

“Find a parking spot and wait for us, Jongho… I have a feeling we won’t be long”

“Yes, Sir”

A/N: oof sorry for taking so long to update! my first mingi smut did you like it?? leave a comment or drop by my asks. feedback is always appreciated <3

#mingi smut #ateez smut #mingi #ateez #ateez mingi #mingi ff #ateez ff #mingi fanfic #ateez fanfic #mingi hard hours #mingi x you #ateez x you #kpop smut #dom!idol #dom!mingi #fanfic #kpop fanfic #smut

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

Text

A FRESH START [22]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: panic attack, trauma reaction, mentions of injuries, nonsexual nudity

Word Count: 5,935

Updates every Thursday

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

[a/n: i was forced to shorten the taglist for the sake of my sanity. tumblr won't let me post with more than certain number. I think that's why I've had the hardest time with this shit. I made it a first come, first served so if your username got dropped I am so so so sorry but that's why.]

#22: LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON

"i find my place in between your arms, in between your tender kisses and soft whispers of 'it will be alright', in between the warmth of your embrace, and the scent of your neck, and the fierceness of your touch, i find my place lost inside your soul." -Hearts and Empires

Din was immensely proud of your skills as a physician. However, if you didn’t get your ass out of the damn medic tent he was going to throw you over his shoulder and carry you home forcibly. More than anything, you needed rest. He wasn’t able to convince you to stop working and because the medical aid had yet to arrive no one else sided with him on these matters. Karga had the nerve to tell him to calm down. Din had nearly wrung the High Magistrate’s neck.

He watched as you flittered around the medical tent aiding those who were injured alongside Aayla. Grogu had refused to leave your side, and that didn’t seem to bother you at all. Right now, as if you weren’t exhausted and barely standing, you had a sling wrapped around your chest which held Grogu against your back. Din could see the little boy resting his head against your back while rubbing your shoulder with his small hand. The sight warmed his heart and Din would be tempted to snap a picture to save if it weren’t for the state of your being. Your scrubs were still stained with blood and you had yet to clean your own wounds. It was stressing Din out to watch you working so hard when you were still in the state you were in.

While turning to see someone else, Din noticed you wavering on your feet. That was enough. He pushed forward and pressed through the injured crowd straight to you. “Hey.” You turned to meet his gaze. “It’s time to go home. You’re barely able to stand.”

“I can’t⏤”

“Ner kar’ta.” Din said firmly.

You sighed. “Alright. Fine.” Your shoulders sagged. “I guess I am a little tired.” Din shook his head, a quiet chuckle slipping from his lips. Your small smile turned sheepish and Din dreaded whatever it was you were going to say next. “I need to make sure Nima has cleared the tarmac though so the medical team can park.”

“What?”

“We need to get⏤”

Din reached his gloved hands out to cup your face. At the contact, the rest of your words fell away. He leaned forward and spoke firmly. “We’re going home. You need to rest. Somebody⏤ Anybody else can do the rest of the work here.” He let his thumb trace your cheekbone. Din wished he could feel your skin against his. “Have you managed all the emergency cases?”

“I mean, yeah, but⏤”

“Then it’s time to take care of yourself.” Din finished.

Your lips pressed together and gave him a small nod. Din let out a breath of relief. Without wasting another moment, Din slipped his hand into yours and began to drag you away before someone could distract you with a new job. Just having your hand in his was a comfort he couldn’t even begin to describe. During his travels, he imagined what his reunion with you would look like often. Never did he imagine karking pirates would be involved, but this feeling in his chest he had anticipated. He knew being back by your side would feel like coming home. In fact, he may have underestimated how strongly the reunion would make him feel⏤ which was quite the feat considering how badly he craved it.

Din stepped into the shared home and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

“Frog. Frog.” Grogu chirped. He turned in time to see you untangling the boy from the sling to set on the ground. Grogu bounded further into the room probably to look for his stuffed toy.

Din focused back on you and his heart ached at the exhaustion painted on your face. Not wasting another moment, Din ripped off his gloves, tossing them aside, and reached out to cup your face. You let out a shuddering breath when his skin came in contact with his and Din felt that last tinge of stress leave his body. You were safe. It felt more real like this.

“Are you still allowed to take this off to kiss me?” You asked. Din couldn’t tell if your quiet voice came from a meekness or just the weariness of your last 24 hours.

“Yes.” Din chuckled. “We just need to be more careful.”

Technically speaking, it would be best if he didn’t take his helmet off anymore. Having you close your eyes was not the most ideal of plans. Accidents could happen, and more than anything it was just a loophole in his Creed. However, Din would give up vital organs before he gave up the gift and honor that was kissing you.

You closed your eyes and Din lifted one of his hands so he could lightly trace your bruised and dirty features. He hummed, “You’re injured and tired. We should take care of that first.”

“Literally nothing is more important to me right now than this.” You replied.

Din hardly needed further convincing. Removing his hands from your face had been painful⏤ even knowing that it was only for a moment so he could take his helmet off. Without the barrier between you and him, your injuries looked worse. The dark coloring of the bruising and the red of the blood was so much more prominent. Din could see bags under your eyes he hadn’t noticed before. With a quiet sigh, Din cupped your face once more.

“Ni ceta.” Din mumbled soft apologies. He leaned in to press his lips first against your left eyelid then your right. He continued to pepper soft kisses across your cheek until they found your lips. Din would be a liar if he said he hadn’t spent every single night while gone imagining what your lips would feel like on his return. And, just as with the reunion, his mental image did not do the moment justice. Din had pictured passion and heat, a battle between one another to devour the other first, but this kiss was not that.

This kiss was soft, tender, and patient.

Three things that Din never got to call his own, living a life of battle in armor of Beskar.

Your lower lip was slotted between both of his and as he gave it a gentle tug you released a shaky sigh. The sound struck him like a hot iron and Din couldn’t help but breathe you in. He pulled you closer so your body was flush with his, let the tip of his tongue trace the shape of your lip, as he deepened the kiss. Din allowed desperation to seep into his very touch. It couldn’t be helped. Din was desperate. He was desperate to feel your very alive heartbeat under his touch. He was desperate for the warmth you exuded. He was desperate to show you how thankful he was for your safety. He was desperate for you to know how proud he was of you. He was desperate for you to know how sorry he was for not being here.

Din was desperate, and it was all for you.

“Ni ceta, ner kar’ta.” Din spoke directly against your lips. Nothing short of the Maker would tear him away from you. Your own hands lifted and when he felt your fingers rake against his scalp, tug on his hair, Din’s repeated apology fell out in a groan. Din dragged his lips along your jawline, taking the time to leave a kiss on every inch. Eventually, his lips found your neck and he left kisses over the darkened bruise there. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” You replied in a hoarse whimper.

Din disagreed entirely. He should’ve been here. He never should have left your side. You flinched when his lips touched a spot more tender than the rest. It was barely noticeable. In fact, he wouldn’t have realized you flinched at all if it wasn’t for your body being pressed so tightly to his. It was enough to remind him that you still needed care and rest. Din pressed one last kiss against your lips⏤ innocent and loving. When he pulled back you let out a whine of complaints. Din reached down to grasp his helmet and pulled it back on.

He leaned forward to rest the beskar against your forehead and at the touch your eyes opened once more. More than anything, Din wanted to see the color of your eyes unhindered by his visor. Even with the helmet on he found your eyes mesmerizing but the visor always muted colors. It seemed fitting if he thought about it. Even with the loophole of taking his helmet off, with your eyes closed a part of you stayed hidden to him. Just as he was hidden to you.

“Let me take a look at your wounds.”

“No.” You said and Din furrowed his brow. As if reading his displeasure at the response, you shook your head and clarified. “I meant, not now. I want to take a shower first. I need to.”

Din found it hard to argue against that. You wouldn’t be able to fully relax until the day was washed from your skin. He nodded and walked you further into the house. He kept one hand on your lower back, and Din loved that you kept pace with him. It wasn’t as if you didn’t know where the bathroom was, but the action made it feel like you were just as desperate as he was to stay in the other’s presence.

Grogu waddled out of the hall, dragging his stuffed frog behind him, just as the two of them reached the mouth of the hallway. He held his hands up, chirping out a request to be held, and Din knelt down to scoop the boy up before you could. Grogu blew a raspberry at him. “No buir. Need Ma.”

“I know, ad’ika.” Din replied. “But Ma has to take a shower.”

Grogu grumbled in protest, but when you reached out to lovingly pet the boy’s head Grogu was marginally appeased. As you drifted to the bathroom, Din gathered a fresh towel for you and he also grabbed one of his shirts for you to change into. A decision made solely to relieve the itch in his brain that needed to see you safe in his bed wearing his clothes, but you accepted both items with a tired smile.

When the door shut and he heard the water kick on, Din blew out a breath of relief. He glanced down at Grogu who was still staring at the bathroom door. “It’s good to be home, isn’t it ad’ika?”

“Home with Ma.” Grogu nodded in agreement.

“Right.” Din chuckled. “We’re home with Ma.”

The hot water pelted your back and left your skin radiating heat. You had washed your hair, begun to wash your body, but midway through you dropped the bottle of soap. As you knelt down to pick it up, you suddenly had a flash of kneeling beside Wynn’s dead body. It sucked the air straight from your lungs and knocked you to your ass. Now you sat under the unrelenting stream of water with your legs curled up to your chest⏤ gasping in distress. Any air you did manage to fill your lungs with was uncomfortable and brought no relief. It felt like you were suffocating.

A choked sob left your lips as you buried your face in your arms as they rested atop your knees. No matter how much you tried to turn your tired mind off, it continued to ruminate on the decisions you made. If you hadn’t forced Wynn to leave, would she still be alive? She wanted to wait for help. You felt trapped in this memory. A loop of telling Wynn she needed to run followed by watching the life leave her eyes right in front of you. You could still feel the warmth of her hot blood while holding her wound⏤ still feel the snapping of her ribs during the course of your desperate CPR. All useless. You didn’t save her. You sent her to her death.

The sensation of having a towel thrown over your shoulders was startling. Your head snapped up to see Din knelt beside you. The shower head was off, Din’s gray pajama shirt plastered to his body on the side from water, and just behind him you could see the bathroom door hanging off it’s hinges.

“Ner kar’ta.” Din’s voice was rough. “Please talk to me.”

“Din?” You gasped. He had the large towel wrapped entirely around your body covering every inch of you. “What⏤ I don’t understand⏤”

“I heard something fall. I called out for you, over and over, but you didn’t respond.” Din replied. His voice took a sheepish tone. “I⏤I broke through the door.” He let his arms run over the towel covering your arms, giving them a squeeze. “Found you like this. Even when I turned the water off you still didn’t…”

It was the sight of your reflection in his visor and helmet that seemed to push you over your edge. Tears welled in your eyes and once the first ragged sob left your lips it was followed quickly by a string of others. Despite the fact that you were sitting on a tiled floor soaked with puddles, Din sat down right beside you and cautiously pulled you into his arms. You tucked yourself against his chest, and he fully enveloped you with his arms while resting his head on top of yours.

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” Din murmured. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. Your sobs only interrupted by the sound of your lungs gasping for air. Din tightened his arms around you, a feat you didn’t know was possible, and you found comfort in his solid form. Din was here. Din made everything better. You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there, but eventually Din mumbled softly, “We need to get you dressed. You’ll be cold soon.” You didn’t tell him that you’d never feel cold in his hold. “Need to treat your wounds too.”

Din helped you stand. He cautiously led you out of the shower, arm around your torso, and he stopped you in front of the bathroom counter. “I’m going to get the first aid kit from the kitchen. Are you going to be alright?”

You nodded. Din paused, as if hesitant, before returning the nod and moving toward the door. He mumbled a curse under his breath, you could hear it, and then he grabbed the large chunks of the door that had broken off when he rammed it to set aside where nobody would trip over them. While he was out, you grabbed his shirt and tugged it on⏤ using the damp towel to try and pat dry the dripping ends of your hair. Din returned, his visor scanning your body, before he settled beside you again.

With a focused intensity, Din applied a bit of bacta to the wound at your hairline and then rubbed some of it into the bruise around your neck as well. In the midst of his work, you whispered, “Wynn is dead.” Din’s fingers paused in their motion, surprise reading in his frame, but he was quick to return his movements and stance back to baseline. “She’s dead and I didn’t tell anybody. I forgot to tell someone.” Tears returned to your eyes. “I just left her in the street, Din. I left her like she meant nothing.”

“Hey.” Din said firmly. “This was during the firefight, was it not?” You nodded in confirmation. “You had no choice, ner kar’ta. That wasn’t your fault.”

“I think it was.” Your words fell out a pained whisper.

Din’s hands lifted to cradle your face and you leaned into his touch. It felt like he wanted to say something, but he paused. Instead, Din tangled his hand with yours and pulled you out of the bathroom. He didn’t ask, didn’t even hesitate, to pull you into his room. The moment you entered you heard Grogu’s familiar snores and it was such a comforting sound to hear after weeks sleeping in silence that you nearly cried. Din pulled back the covers and helped you slide in.

Rather than follow you into bed, he took a step back and the look on your face must have been obvious enough that he reached out to caress your face. “I’m coming back. I need to change clothes.”

Your eyes focused on the large wet stains from where you had been curled up into him. Din crossed the room and your eyes widened and bit when he began to pull his shirt off. His movements were confident and it warmed your heart that he was comfortable enough with you to reveal himself like this. Your eyes trailed over the expanse of his muscular back⏤ admiring the rugged lines of his broad shoulders and the various scars that littered his skin. Din pulled a new shirt on and you expected him to come back. Instead, Din began to pull off his sweatpants. Slowly, you sat up, pulling the sheets closer to you, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trace the shape of his lower half. You were blatantly ogling this man in his boxer briefs as he tugged on a new pair of sweats. Before turning back around, you saw him pick up his vambrace, pressing a few buttons, before setting it down once more.

Din turned around, tying the strings at his waistband, and he chuckled. His voice came out as teasing and light hearted. Clearly trying to put you at ease. “Are you checking me out, ner kar’ta?”

“I missed you so much.” You replied. Too tired, physically and emotionally, to tease back the way that you wanted to. Instead, the truth tumbled out of your lips.

He came back around to the bed and slipped under the sheets. As Din’s arm wrapped around your waist, you let him pull you back into laying down. You shifted so your head rested on his chest and Din began to drag his knuckles up and down your spine. “I missed you too. Being away from you was unbearable for Grogu and I both.” Din hummed. “He tried to stay up for you, but passed out. Grogu didn’t sleep well last night. I think my anxiety kept him up.” Your hand was resting on his side⏤ fingers dragging up and down his ribs. You mumbled into his chest. Din’s hand, the one rubbing your back, trailed up to rake through your hair. “I want to talk.”

“About?” You mumbled.

“Ner kar’ta.”

You let out a soft chuckle. “Din…”

“You don’t have to talk to me, you don’t have to tell me anything, but…” Din sighed, “I’d like to know. I want to help.” He massaged the back of your neck right where it met your skull and all your tension sat. A soft sigh left your body as you relaxed in his arms. “I sent Karga a message about Wynn. They’re going to find her. Put her to rest.” You buried your face down into his chest knowing your tears would dampen his new shirt all over again. “I just want to help.”

After a few moments of peaceful silence where you listened to Grogu’s snores and Din’s heartbeat, you turned so your face wasn’t pressed into his chest and you could speak. Hesitantly, you began to tell him what happened⏤ starting with the bombs that fell on Nevarro and ending with Paz leading you out of the burning city as you carried Elodie. The entire time Din didn’t speak. He’d mumble an acknowledgement or hum here and there, but he made no comment.

When you finished, Din finally spoke up, “Tell me why you said what you did. You said what happened to Wynn was your fault.”

“She didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay hidden and wait for help.” You closed your eyes tightly as the memory of Wynn’s lifeless eyes assaulted you once more. “If I had listened to her she might be alive. Help did come. I⏤I should have been more patient.”

“Ner kar’ta, you made that decision based on the limited information you had. You didn’t know I was coming and bringing help. Where the three of you were hidden wasn’t safe. If one of the pirates did discover you, you’d be pinned down in a hole.” Din spoke with a firmness that left no room for argument. “In that moment, you made the best decision you could. You made the right decision.” He used the arm not around you to grasp your chin and tilt your head up so you were facing his visor. “Listen to me, ner kar’ta. That was not your fault. You did not take Wynn’s life, she gave it to save Elodie. Wynn is a hero. Don’t take that from her by shouldering needless blame.”

There was something about the way Din spoke that resonated with you. His words calmed the turmoil in your soul. Din could repeat the same sentiment that anyone else would speak, but when it came from his lips it soothed your wounds like a salve. He couldn’t heal everything, there was self reflection only you could puzzle through, but he was a hand to hold as you waded through the worst of it.

“Din…” You started. Before you finished your sentence, it occurred to you that the words you wanted to say were significant. You wanted to tell Din you loved him. That’s what you felt right now. It was overwhelming. It was all encompassing.

Din still had his hand at your chin and he let his large hand shift from your chin to your jaw. He held the side of your face and let his thumb trace patterns in your skin. “Yes, ner kar’ta?”

Saying those words felt like quite the leap. You were confident in the way you felt about him and how he felt about you, but there was a part of you that couldn’t quite push the words out. You were too mentally wiped out to process those thoughts right now. Not knowing how else to express how grateful you were for this man, you turned your face so you could press a kiss to the palm of his hand.

Din let out a content sigh and he shifted his body so you could rest more comfortably against him. He hummed and you heard the rumble of it in his chest. “Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He went back to soothingly dragging his fingers up and down your spine. “I’ll always be here.”

You let your eyes close and took a slow breath as Din’s warmth and the comforting smell of him lulled you into the best sleep you’ve gotten since Din and Grogu left.

Nevarro was in pieces. Rubble decorated the streets and buildings were in shambles. Despite how terrible it looked, Din couldn’t help but be proud of the citizens of the city he looked after. They were strong. Nevarro was already healing only days after the attack. Din walked down the street with Grogu in his arms. The boy was squirming, wanting to get down, but with the rubble and debris Din didn’t want him wandering around. As he walked down the street, every once in a while a person would pause to thank him for bringing help⏤ bringing the Mandalorians. Din would nod in response, but it would shoot a pang of guilt through his chest. He didn’t deserve thanks. He had left them after all.

Din’s steps slowed as he began to pass the school house. Outside of the building, a memorial had been set up for Wynn. Candles, flowers, and cards covered the front steps and Din found himself letting out a sigh. The school teacher was a hero. Din meant that seriously when he spoke to you. It hadn’t been your fault, absolutely not, and both you and Wynn were the reason Elodie was alive and well. Her and her parents were currently off world. The little girl needed more intensive care than could be provided here, but last Din heard the child was doing very well.

“Miss?” Grogu mumbled. Din recognized the title Grogu would call his teacher.

“Yes, ad’ika.” Din confirmed. Grogu’s ears wilted as he stared at the memorial. Din rubbed Grogu’s back and began to walk again with the goal to reach the clinic. You had left home early to go to work. You’d be there for any emergencies, per the norm, but you were also using today to see many of the people who were injured the day of for follow up. To ensure everyone was healing as they should. Din was of the opinion that you needed more rest, if not physical then mental, but trying to convince you of that was a near impossibility.

When Din reached the corner, Bo Katan pushed off a wall to join his pace. Her helmet was tucked under her arm. The Armorer had announced that the Mandalorians needed to come together rather than fall apart. It was a sentiment he could understand. Mayfeld had asked him about the helmet situation. Mandalorians coming together was a good idea, Din agreed, but coming to coincide with one another didn’t change the Creed he had dedicated himself to.

“Once this place gets cleaned up, I can see it being a nice place to live. To settle.” Bo hummed. Din nodded once, and she glanced his way. “I’m glad your partner is safe.”

“Thank you.” Din replied sincerely.

“There is something I’d like to speak to you about.”

“I figured.” He said. “Does this have anything to do with retaking Mandalore?”

Bo chuckled, “Good guess.”

“What about it?”

“Well,” Bo kept by his side, “Is there anything I can say that will convince you to come with me to reclaim my fleet from Axe Woves?”

Din didn’t pause even a beat when he answered. “No. There isn’t.”

Bo sighed in annoyance and Din briefly felt guilt at the waves of frustration wafting off of Bo’s tense frame. Half of him felt like it was his duty to help in any way to restore Mandalore, but the other half could not even begin to fathom leaving you again. It occurred to Din that this might be selfish of him. His people needed him, right? He locked his jaw at the thought.

“Your help would make this all go smoother, I think. We make a good team.” Bo said.

Din chuckled, “Did that hurt you to admit?”

“It did.” Bo smirked. “Which is why you should take it seriously.”

Din paused when the clinic came into view. He turned to face Bo and shook his head. “It’s not that I don’t want to help. Retaking Mandalore is a noble endeavor. One I would be honored to help in.” He paused. “But my family is here. I got lucky during that attack. I... I almost lost her.”

“I understand that.” Bo replied. “I know the weight of what I’m asking you, Djarin. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important.”

Din glanced back to the clinic and did a double take when he saw you coming out. A smile began to form on his features, but it fell when he watched Paz walk out behind her with Ragnar by his side. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You were wearing your white coat, a look Din truly loved on you, and Paz was chatting with you about something. Something that made you laugh in response. Since when was Paz funny?

“Didn’t know you were the jealous kind, Djarin.” Bo chuckled.

Din snapped a glare at her. “I’m not jealous.”

“It’s all over your face.”

“I’m wearing a helmet.”

“Yet somehow I still know it is.”

Din grunted in mild annoyance. He wasn’t jealous. Per say. It was just like with Vanth. Din was confident enough in his relationship with you, even as undefined as it currently was, that he wasn’t worried about someone sweeping you away. Din just had a bad habit of accidentally letting his possessive nature show and there was something about seeing his brother flirt with you that stirred him into wanting to fight.

Both you and Paz glanced down at Ragnar who must have been speaking and you set a hand on the boy’s shoulder with a smile.

“Hm. They’d make a cute family.” Bo teased.

“Stop.” Din snapped.

He was caught off guard when Grogu jumped out of his arms. Him and Bo quickly followed after the boy who was in a mad rush toward you. Din watched as his son shoved past Ragnar, making the boy stumble enough that Din had a feeling the Force was involved, before leaping into your arms.

“Oh, hey, baby.” You cooed.

“Ma. My Ma.” Grogu cuddled into your arms while shooting Ragnar a glare.

Bo glanced at Din. “Aw. Like father, like son.”

Din wished he could take his helmet off just so Bo could see the full weight of the glare he currently wore. He continued forward until your eyes shot to him and the bright smile that filled your features just from spotting him.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked.

“Just checking in on you.” Din replied. Bo cleared her throat and Din sighed before nodding his head toward the woman standing beside him. “This is Bo Katan Kryze. Bo, this is Soran.”

You held your hand out to shake Bo’s hand and the red headed woman returned the greeting. Paz let one of his large hands settle on your shoulder and Din felt himself bristle at the motion. His older brother chuckled. “No need to worry. Wero’ika is doing more than fine.”

“Yeah, Paz brought me a late breakfast.” You chirped.

Yeah, okay, Din was going to murder him.

“Oh, hang on,” You glanced over your shoulder, “I see a problem patient walking in. I’m not gonna subject Aayla to that.”

Din nodded once and you shot Bo and Paz a smile, squeezing Ragnar’s shoulder as well despite Grogu’s complaints, and then you turned to leave. As soon as you were inside the clinic, Din turned to Paz with a grunt. “Wero’ika? What the kriff is that?”

“A nickname, Djarin.”

“Mir’sheb.” Din snarled and Paz laughed in response. Ragnar tugged on his father’s arm before pointing off to the side. Paz nodded, telling him to be cautious, before the boy ran off to play with a group of kids down the street.

Bo chuckled. “I didn’t realize this was the beginning of a love triangle. Interesting.”

“It isn’t.” Din said.

Paz tilted his head and crossed his arms. “I’m unaware of Soran being in possession of a token of intention.”

“I’m working on it.” Din said through clenched teeth.

“Perhaps, I’ll work on it faster.”

Din knew Paz was just trying to get under his skin. Part of his frustration was the fact that it was working. His hands drifted to rest on his hips as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. Paz was smug. Din had known him long enough to recognize the set of his shoulders.

“I’m⏤” Din began then cleared his throat. “I’m giving her time.”

“You’re wasting her time.” Paz argued with a chuckle. “Wero’ika⏤”

“Don’t call her that like you know her.” Din cut in. “A lot just happened. I’m not going to rush her into anything.”

He glanced from Paz to Bo then back to Paz. Din gave the man a gruff good-bye before pushing past the two of them to head into the clinic. He greeted Miriam at the front desk. Before he could cross the threshold into the main room, the young woman caught his attention and let him know that you were down the hall instead. Din furrowed his brow in confusion, but walked down to find you sitting in the break room snipping the sutures off a patient’s wound.

“Marshal.” The patient greeted with a nod that Din returned.

Grogu was playing with a latex glove on the counter while you worked. You shot him a smile before focusing back on your work. Din settled beside his son, leaning against the counter, and just admired you with a sense of calm. He wondered if Paz was right. Not a line he’d ever say out loud, but Din wondered if he was just finding another excuse to hide behind. He wasn’t sure what he was so afraid of. You’ve made your interest in him very clear, the two of you shared a bond like he’d never experienced before, but still he hesitated.

“Alright, it looks good. No need to restrict yourself, but if it starts bothering you again just let me know.” You smiled. The patient thanked you, gave him a final good-bye, then left. You wandered over to where he stood with Grogu and began to wash your hands in the sink. “Hey, so your brother seems cool.”

Din grunted. “Who Paz?”

“Yeah.” You turned the faucet off and grabbed a few paper towels. “I thought he might not like me because I yelled at him during the battle.” Din’s eyes widened. He’d have to ask about that. “But instead I think I accidentally earned his respect? Also, what does ‘wero’ika’ mean?”

Din chuckled. “Little Problem.”

Your jaw fell open. “He’s been calling me a little problem this entire time?” Din nodded. “Son of a bitch. I’m gonna need you to teach me something amusing and mildly rude to call him in return.”

“Oh, I can think of some names for him.” Din replied. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you about something, but don’t feel any pressure with this, alright?” You quirked an eyebrow at him. Your eyes briefly glanced at Grogu and you shot your hand out to snatch the latex glove from Grogu’s mouth and wagged a finger at him. “I left to redeem myself. To restore my Creed with the plans to…” Din shifted awkwardly. “To court you.” The corner of your lips curled up. “I know a lot has happened recently, so again there is no pressure here, but I wanted to…make my intentions known.”

You reached out and wrapped your hand above his elbow, between his armor plates, and gave it a small squeeze. “Din, I appreciate your patience and concern, but I⏤ I want this. I want you.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “So, just tell me how we do this. How does Mandalorian courting work? Do I sign on the dotted line or…?”

Din laughed, in part due to relief, “No. Nothing like that. I have…” He reached to the back of his belt to unhook the blade and sheath that was once his. Din brought it around to hold out to you and you stared at the blade curiously. “In Mandalorian custom, a token of intention is given to the person being courted and to accept it means accepting those advances.” Din cleared his throat again. Maker, his mouth was dry. “Tokens are usually a weapon with the person’s signet on it.”

He pulled the blade out of the sheath enough that you were able to see the mudhorn etched into the blade’s side. Din tucked the blade back into the sheath and gave you a small nod. With a bright smile, you took the blade from his hands and he felt like his heart was going to explode in his chest watching you run your finger against the mudhorn.

You held the blade against your chest and nodded. “I accept, Mandalorian.”

Grogu began to clap his hands together and you broke out into laughter that relaxed every single bone and muscle in his body. The only regret Din had was not doing this at home where he could pull his helmet off and kiss you.

mando'a translations:

ni ceta: sorry wero'ika: little problem ner kar'ta: my heart mir'sheb: smartass

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @modiddys-blog @harriedandharassed @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #reader insert #mando x reader #mando x you #a fresh start #female reader #domestic bliss!din djarin

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myillicitaffair · 4 months

Text

One of your girls part two | Carlos Sainz Jr

Summary: after a fateful outcome, Carlos wants to fix what he unintentionally broke.

Warnings: english not being my mother tongue, angst, alcohol consumption, dirty dancing, small description of throwing up, cheating, mentions of sex, messed up dynamics, slight swearing.

Notes: second part of this fic. i also wanted to say i’m currently taking request, to anyone who might be interested xx.

Credits: the gif used belongs to @neymarhamilton ‘s tumblr account, so all credits belong to them. this part, just like the one before, is inspired by the song “one of your girls” by Troye Sivan.

1.8k

SIX MONTHS AGO:

A chilly night welcomes my friend group as we make our way through a prestigious and crowded restaurant situated in the heart of Madrid.

Being born and raised in Spain´s capital city, the girls now walking into the facilities have been by my side my whole life; faith brought us together our first day of school, just three frightened little kids trying to survive elementary.

I like to believe that we complement each other, even if we hadn´t met all those years ago, life would have found a way to connect us.

A girl’s night out is a rare occurrence between us; always being on the shy side, we very much prefer staying in, drowning ourselves in sweet treats while marathoning our comfort romcoms.

The reason why we´re summoned tonight is quite simple… my very first broken heart.

You see, in an attempt to lighten the mood, my friends brought us to an extremely exclusive eatery, one where we clearly didn´t fit in. The difference was quite notorious, surrounded by leggy models and their handsome companions, I quite frankly begin to wonder why I ever agreed.

With a deep breath, I straighten my back and let the hostess remove my coat. “In for a penny, in for a pound” I think with a resigned shrug of the shoulders.

As we´re carried to our spot, I try and take the essence of the place in. I start noticing its eccentric décor, dim lights brightening the burgundy walls, leather booths scattered all over the classy tile floor.

What makes an ordinary dinner such a big success? Its bizarre modality.

Our table is filled with strangers, completely engulfed in their different conversations. The main reason for my friends to take us to this unconventional location was exactly this; the inexorable need to engage in conversations with foreign people.

The first round of dirty martinis arrives as the last costumers take their places next to me, with a lousy cheer I pour the drink down my throat, feeling its pleasant burning down my body, warming me up, making me forget.

“Easy there tiger”- the man sited by my side chuckles, gesturing towards my empty glass.

I take a moment to wander across his features. Thick eyebrows, big brown eyes, plump lips. Definitely attractive, exactly what I need.

A smile creeps up my face, the wires in my brain getting to work.

I notice an elegantly worn designer shirt hugging his chest, his forearms resting against the wooden surface, his attentive stare trying to read my thoughts.

“And you are?”- I condescendingly tease him.

“Carlos”- his hand travels to mine, embracing me with his warm- “Carlos Sainz.”

The subtle body hair covering his fist tickling my naked skin, igniting a fire deep inside me.

And in that moment, I simply knew there was no getting out, not anybody else as long as he kept staring at me like this, eating me raw with his gaze.

That was the first night I ever came back home with him.

————

FOUR MONTHS AGO:

Carlos is away for the weekend, oceans separating us, palpable distance every time he races through my mind.

I try convincing myself It’s the sex I miss, the obvious physical attraction, the invisible force that pulls us towards the other, the feeling of his warm skin being impossibly closer to mine.

Truth being told, I’m sitting immovable on my bed, nervously waiting for a call.

I can’t help but recall his soft locks intertwined with my fingers, his tongue inching towards my neck, how he never fails to make my blood boil with a simple grin.

My phone brings me out of my daydreams, screaming for attention as a call enters it. His name glistening on the screen, filling me with pure bliss and forcing me to hold my giggles.

Acting like a schoolgirl with a crush while being a full-grown adult… how pathetic!

Two rings go by before i pick up, bitting my bottom lip to keep my voice calm as if I wasn’t desperately clinging to it seconds ago.

“Gorgeous, you got a minute to spare?”- he asks, clear amusement in his tone, abusing the charm he knows he has.

“That depends, Carlos, who’s asking?”

I’m gobsmacked at how composed I sound, nowhere near how I actually feel.

My knuckles turn white from grasping my sheets.

“Don’t be like that, princess, I know you miss me”- his smile visible through his speech.

My heart skips a beat, can his words be revealing my true feelings?

“Oh honey, keep lying to yourself if it helps you sleep at night…”

I’m met with his scandalous laugh filling the line, raising my pulse until it’s beating on my ears.

Everything stops, everything keeps going.

I close my eyes in acknowledgement, being forced to admit what i’ve been denying ever since I met him.

Oh, how screwed I am!

———

TWO MONTHS AGO:

The music rumbles at the disco, throbbing on my skin with its intensity.

Being dragged to a hip party, my friends and I are bundled up in the comfort of our own group, dancing between ourselves.

As I rock my body to meet the pulsating rhythm, I embrace Carlos’s presence behind me, tightly grabbing my waggling hips.

He presses himself into me and I rub against his growing erection, purposely torturing him. His kisses start straying while sucking visible red marks into my neck.

His penetrating cologne invades my nostrils, clinging into my bare skin like a golden tattoo.

The mix of the alcohol I insisted on chugging and his hands shaping my whole body becoming intoxicating.

A foreign touch on my shoulder makes me open my eyes, leaving me to face my friend staring at me like i’ve grown a second head.

“You’re coming with me”- she pronounces as she drags me away from Carlos, who snorts in disbelief.

“What? Why?”- I ask as i’m forced to take a seat at the bar.

“Have you gone mad? You two were literally dry humping each other in the middle of the crowd!”- She hisses worriedly, forcing me to drink the water bottle she bought for me.

As she sits next to me, I prepare myself for the lecture she’s about to impart me, letting my eyes wonder across the dance floor.

I catch a glimpse of Carlos standing against a wall, hemmed by complete darkness, sometimes interrupted by one of the dj's lights.

When the spotlight lands on him, I start noticing the delicate hands hugging his broad shoulders, the almost nonexistent distance between him and the blonde caressing his cheeks.

Bile climbs up my throat, threatening to be ejected thanks to the scene before me.

Her lips all over his neck, staining the collar of his white shirt with lipstick.

Realizing i’m not paying an iota of attention to her, my friends follows my gaze stumbling across the sequence.

Effortlessly, she yanks me away from the enclosed space and into the garden.

Without being able to stop myself, I empty the contents of my stomach into the ground, constantly replaying the flashbacks of their sensual dance.

“Everything’s okay now, love”- My friend states while caressing my tangled up hair. Her fingertips come into contact with my cheeks, brushing my tears away.

Sobs are quick to scape my lungs, becoming more and more erratic as I imagine the second by second unfolding inside the disco.

———

PRESENT:

After running away from Carlos’s house, in the middle of a Madrilenian night, I’m fast to hide into the loneliness of my apartment.

I can’t even find comfort in blaming him as I was the one to agree with our “no exclusivity policy”, believing I could make it work.

How stupid of me to think I would be capable of not being trapped into his nets.

Clearly the only solution I can possibly come up with is crying it out, and that’s how I found myself in this situation; puffy eyes, completely ruined mascara, quivering eyes from shedding way too many tears.

Could I have been more stupid? I can’t even resonate one good reason why I would ever accept what he’s willing to offer me while wanting him in his entirety.

My determination is easily devastated as desperate fists bang against my door.

“Please, open up”- A too familiar voice implores from outside the apartment.

“I don’t ever wanna see you again”- I manage to scream through whimpers.

“I beg of you, please let me in! I swear I can explain.”

Standing right on the other side of the door, I feel my hand toying with the doorknob, trying to determinate whether or not to listen to his pleas.

“There’s nothing to explain, Carlos!”- I say, above a whisper, my voice to fragile for anything else.

“There’s been a while since i’ve been with anyone else, alright? Not since all I could think about was you!”

An unbreakable silence fills the hallways of the building, only the sound of his pantings and heavy breathing interrupting the stillness.

Without much hesitation, I open the hinges separating us.

Clearly, I was nowhere near prepared for the view before me; his full brown eyes now shimmering with unshed orbs, accumulated in his tear ducts.

“How about the girl from the voicemail?”- I ask, almost scared to find out this is all a product of my imagination.

“I know what that seemed like, but I promise you it’s not what you think!”- he says, piercing me with his gaze- “That was my ex girlfriend. She has a hard time letting go of me, even though there’s been more than a year since we’ve last been together. I never answer her calls and that’s why she’s getting more and more desesperate.”

Everything around me stops just to listen to his next words, my heart betting so out of control he might even hear it.

“Back at my apartment you told me you were enamored by me, well, there’s no use in trying to deny i’m in love with you”- he whispers, just loud enough for me to hear- “so much it’s physically painful, it’s all I can think about.”

My brain turned into mush as his confession sinks in. I almost want to laugh at how ridiculous the idea seems to me; the man I love, probably the only one i’ll ever love, stating that my feelings are reciprocate.

A sigh leaves my parted lips as a quiet tear runs down my face.

“I know i’ve made my mistakes and believe me when I say i’ll regret them every minute i’m on this earth, but I promise you, that if you give me the chance, i’ll make it up to you until my dying breath”- his voice sounds shaky, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of him.

I don’t think I ever reacted as fast as now, jumping into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso. Little giggles leave both of our mouths at the ridiculous situation.

“I love you”- He murmurs, muffled by the kisses he’s pressing against my checks.

“I love you too”- I answer back, with our bodies still entwined.

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hp-hcs · 6 months

Note

Hello there.

Since you're taking a request, then maybe some poły relationship with Theo and Mattheo. Preferably male lub gn reader

Thanks and have a good day

aaaaaa a non-monogamous relationship with my two favorite boyos??? abso-fuckin-lutely!!!

polyamorous theodore nott & mattheo riddle x gn!reader headcanons

(lovely pictures from @demieyesore)

since it wasn’t specified if the boyos were dating each other as well or not, i made it ✨up to reader interpretation✨

❕gender-neutral reader❕

TWs: violence (it’s theo & mattheo, what do you expect?), brief sexual harassment/attempted sexual assault (?)

requests open (please for the love of god)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

general headcanons:

mattheo is little spoon and i will take no arguments

(he’s almost always in the middle <3)

if you call theo literally any pet name he will die on the spot

same if you call mattheo any variation of ‘pretty boy’ or ‘cutie’

(extra bonus points if you compliment something unrelated to his physical appearance, like how well he did on a test, or how perceptive he is. homeboy will have no idea how to respond. he’ll just be like 🧍‍♂️🥹👍🫶)

the poly thing actually only happened because there was a very aggressive love triangle thing going on and then they were like “wait this is dumb”

plus, it makes a bunch of the teachers uncomfy, + both of their fathers, so really it’s ideal

they r possessive as F U C K

they can share with each other, that’s it. no one else.

i dare anyone to try to bully or harass you

or actually, even just look at you

OR IF SOMEBODY TRIES TO ASK YOU OUT

someone call an ambulance for the poor fuck 💥🚑🚨🩹🪦💀

lil oneshot thing? idk man:

you go to one of enzo’s stupid parties without your boys

“i’ll be fine guys, promise”

y/n was, in fact, Not Fine™

someone tries to hit on you but just DOESNT TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER

let's say it’s cormac mclaggen cause mf is creepy asf

(i know everyone makes him like ‘the bad guy’ but yk what if you don’t like it go write ur own headcanons. they’d probably be better anyways)

anywhore, cormac is like, getting a lil too close for comfort

just kind of haranguing you the whole night

offering drinks, complimenting how you’re dressed, telling you that your boyfriends are “so lucky to have someone as sexy as you”

🤮🤮

you are OBVIOUSLY uncomfortable

but shit hits the fan when he grabs your waist/hip area and tries to kiss you

✨surprise!✨

your mancandy was here the whole time 😌

(not cause they don’t trust you, they just don’t trust anybody else)

💥👊😡🩸🩹🔪🗡️💣

cormac: 🥊🦷😵‍💫🩸🩹🩼☠️⚰️🪦

(lowkey hot to watch em defend you but yk)

((y/n for literally no reason: 👁️🫦👁️)

(((if you tell mattheo you think it’s hot, he’ll just go 🥺🫶💋😚🫂)))

misc:

expounding further on my earlier mattheo x reader headcanons, a scientific study i’ve conducted has found that mattheo riddle is, in fact, a himbo

from the new partridge dictionary of slang and unconventional english, a himbo is “a man objectified by his good looks and presumed lack of intellectual qualities, a man who trades on this image, a gigolo”

objectified by his good looks? have you met tumblr? ✅

lack of intellectual qualities? well, he thinks violence solves everything and thinks with his dick instead of his brain so i’m gonna say yeah ✅

but let’s keep it going, shall we?

a himbo is also defined as the “human version of a golden retriever—beautiful, incredibly well-intentioned, and dumb.”

…yep

beautiful ✅ well-intentioned (in his own mind) ✅ & dumb (lovingly) ✅

additionally: buff 💪 ✅ & respects his romantic partner(s) ✅

“but hp-hcs,” you bemoan. “what does that make theo?”

well, my dear delusionists, theodore nott is a hunk—not quite a himbo, but close

hopefully this venn diagram i made of some of the himbos & himbo-adjacents in the hp world will help illustrate this for you