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thefrogdalorian · 1 day

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The Best of Both Worlds: Chapter Thirteen

Din Djarin x F!Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Summary: The happiness you feel in response to a question Din posed to you is somewhat clouded by lingering doubts. Yet your affection for each other helps you to push those emotions down, until a weekend spent at his cottage changes everything...

Word Count: 13.1k ❁ Rating: Mature ❁ Content Warnings: 18+MDNI for smut (oral sex, M and F receiving), mild child sickness, angst... lots of angst... ❁ Author's Note: Thank you @decembermidnight for being my beta! This was a monster chapter so I really appreciate it. Cannot believe it had been almost a month since my last update for this fic!! I am really keen to get this one finished soon but I could also see myself writing another 100k so... we'll see how it goes haha. Sorry in advance, it hurt to write... but I do hope you enjoyed it...

13. The Storm [Reader's POV]

Being away from Din was agonising. It felt as though every second you were not in his presence only widened the chasm in your chest which had opened the minute you parted from him.

Still, you had the comfort of basking in his memory and the warmth that spread across your skin whenever you thought of him.

Every time he crossed your mind or you saw something that reminded you of him, you were unable to prevent a grin from spreading across your features. Knowing that he was all yours, that you had taken the step of actually calling him your boyfriend made you feel positively giddy.

Each memory you had with Din was precious, something to be treasured.

Well, almost all.

There was one irritating little moment which did not provoke a pleasant reaction. A moment that kept replaying over and over in your mind. The doubt and insecurity it provoked kept gnawing away in the pit of your stomach. Try as you might, you were unable to banish it from your thoughts.

That one particular moment seemed to play on an endless loop in your mind in the days following your excursion to the park.

No matter how much you tried to banish it from your thoughts, you could not stop thinking about the way Din had shifted all of his weight onto one leg, folded his arms and sighed when you had suggested hiring the rowboat. For some reason, that particular mannerism triggered something in your brain. A reminder of sorts; a flicker of recognition, a memory of a man that you had never even met.

It was like the strangest sense of de ja vu, except you had never crossed paths with the man who Din bore a striking resemblance to at that precise moment… because he wasn’t real.

Nevertheless, for one brief moment as you stood begging Din to acquiesce and hire a boat with you, the way he moved was so scarily like Mando that you had almost opened your mouth to question it.

However, as you thought about it over the next few days, you were relieved you hadn’t made a fool out of yourself and questioned him. You would have looked beyond ridiculous.

There was simply no way that your Din could be The Mandalorian.

You were certain that it was just your overactive imagination playing a trick on you, especially since Mando had been on your mind recently.

When Din had called to apologetically inform you that he would be unable to join you on that Friday night, you had not hesitated to dive back underneath the comfort blanket that was your favourite show.

You had slipped back into your old ways and used the show you once watched religiously to soothe your soul during a time of crisis. Watching The Mandalorian in your luxurious hotel room on an enormous television that made you feel like you were at the cinema had calmed your anguished heart after Din had informed you of his delayed arrival.

It had also clearly brought Mando back to the forefront of your mind in a way that the character had not been for several weeks.

Until then, any spare time was devoted to seeing Din, rather than watching the same episodes you had seen countless times. Mando had slipped down in your list of priorities. Still, it was the first thing you turned to during a time of crisis.

Since you had started dating Din, you had found yourself so busy that your frequent watch throughs of Mando had dwindled in frequency. You had a lot less time to yourself, after work you were usually either physically with Din or texting him. Somehow, the thought of watching your fictional crush when you were speaking to your very real boyfriend, even via text, seemed strange.

You had always believed that you would never find anyone in real life who could come close to holding your affection in the same way that Mando did. You knew now, of course, that you were dead wrong about that.

Din was everything you had ever been searching for. Since the moment you had first crossed paths at the museum, you had felt an immediate connection and spark which had only intensified over the months that you had known him. With Din, you were unafraid to be yourself. You were so authentically yourself when you were around him.

Din saw you entirely. And he loved you completely in return. In your relationship, there was nothing to run from, nothing to hide. Merely two people who loved each other very much and had felt every part of themselves touched by that affection and made all the better for it.

Before Din, you had always been afraid of love, afraid of allowing someone to know you so deeply. With him, you had never felt fear. Never felt that he could hurt you or hide anything from you. Even though his particular line of employment kept him away from you and was evidently well-paid, and even though he lived suspiciously close to The Volume… There was no way the kind-hearted man who was such an attentive father and made you feel so safe whenever you were in his presence could be hiding such a thing from you.

So, those feelings of certainty and security that you drew from your relationship with Din were precisely why you were able to dismiss the peculiar moment at the park which had caused such a strong sense of deja vu within you. You knew Din Djarin was a good man at heart, who would never willingly hurt you or hide things from you.

Happily, despite the uncanny resemblance to Mando that Din had momentarily shown, your fledgling relationship was going from strength to strength.

Din was doing everything to spend more time with you. He would meet you after work when his schedule permitted, even if it was just for a quick dinner before the two of you went your separate ways.

Weekends were usually spent at Din’s cottage, unless he treated you and booked a hotel room for the two of you. The second suite was usually for Kuiil and Grogu now. Din, in his own way, was learning to open up more to you and let Grogu out of his sight for a few hours so he could enjoy your company. He had even discussed renting a flat in central London to give him and Grogu more of a base in the city that would make seeing you easier. It was a sign that the future was on Din’s mind. A future he seemingly wanted to share with you.

You couldn’t help but notice that the increasing amount of free time Din had coincided with the rumours that had appeared online that The Mandalorian was wrapping up filming season three.

Still, you had no concrete proof that Din worked at The Volume. Despite how much your friends teased you, you refused to let your mind wander in that direction. You had settled on the fact that Din would tell you something if he could and that was that. Better to keep your life as a Mando-obsessed fangirl far separate from the woman who Din was dating.

As you spent more and more time in each other’s company, there was a comforting familiarity that grew between the two of you when you spent time together. Things were becoming more natural. Dates for the two of you were rarely such an event anymore, it was more just spending time with each other whenever the stars aligned for you to sneak some precious time with each other.

Of course, your heart still fluttered when you thought about Din, texted him or were near to him. That certainly hadn’t changed.

Spending time with him and having him take you on dates still felt exhilarating. Now with the added bonus that you were beginning to feel more comfortable and relaxed in his presence. Things felt so natural with Din. You did not fear letting him in to see all of you. That included telling the occasional jokes about Mando and trying to persuade him to watch your favourite show.

In a way, even since your first meeting, you had always known that Din would accept you as you were. Your long, tangential rants at the museum during the tour had not put him off, nor had the time when you were honest with him about much preferring a low-key date rather than taking advantage of the reservation at the fancy restaurant he had made for you. Din accepted you as you were.

Every time you were around him, you felt butterflies in your stomach and a warmth which spread in your chest at the knowledge that you had let him in completely, and he still loved you anyway. It was exhilarating.

Yes, Din Djarin was certainly getting to know you. All of you.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Those butterflies were certainly present once again tonight as the two of you took an after-dinner stroll through Notting Hill, where you had just enjoyed dinner together at a cosy Italian restaurant one of your colleagues had recommended. Your fingers were interlaced with Din’s and you could not resist stealing glances at him every few steps.

Din had really made an effort for the occasion. He looked so handsome in his white button down shirt, dark blue blazer and matching pants to complete the outfit. You had barely been able to form words when you had first laid eyes upon him outside work earlier in the evening. Any words you had been trying to form had soon been kissed from your lips as Din brought you into a passionate embrace.

When you saw Din, you were glad that you had stashed some clothes at your workplace for spontaneous date nights. Indeed, your work locker was playing host to an increasing number of outfits for your dates, much to the amusement of your colleagues.

Tom in particular liked to point out when you were going on a date, causing your cheeks to burn each time. From the way he looked at you and teased you, you almost felt as though he had a crush on you. You wondered why he had never acted upon it before you had started dating Din, if that was indeed the case.

Before you had met Din, it wasn’t exactly as though you were inundated with proposals. Perhaps it was knowing that you were desirable or the efforts you were making to dress nicely that had caused Tom’s mind to wander. Regardless, you didn’t give it too much thought. For you, it was always Din. Only Din.

As you and Din strolled through the upmarket area of London, with all of its distinctively coloured houses, you couldn’t help but feel the autumnal chill to the air that had not been there a few weeks previously. It made sense, seeing as September was drawing to a close.

But with Din’s large hand in yours and the heat which radiated within you whenever you were with him, you did not feel cold in the slightest. As you walked through a quiet residential area, in the vague direction of a tube station that would take you home, it could have been the depths of winter for all you cared. With Din by your side, you did not feel a single shiver traverse your body.

Until, Din spoke, and his words sent a chill down your spine.

“I like this area. I could see myself living here,” Din said thoughtfully as the two of you paused on the street.

There was a row of tall houses with small gardens out front, neat houses with beautiful brickwork and ornate windows. You swallowed thickly. Somewhere like this would be so far out of your price range. It was yet another devastating reminder of the different worlds you came from.

“Maybe it’s somewhere we could look for a flat?” Din questioned, softly smiling at you as he made the suggestion.

You stopped in your tracks and glanced around at him questioningly. It wasn’t the first time Din had brought up the idea of renting a flat in central London, but it was the first time he had used such inclusive language.

He could have been referring to himself and Grogu, of course, but you knew from the way he had said it and looked at you that you were the other he was referring to. You were stunned at his words. The sentiment that he wanted to share a life with you deeply moved you. You had hoped that Din was taking things as seriously as you were, but to hear him express a desire to live with you… you couldn’t help but feel a little giddy.

“We?” you questioned, looking up and smiling shyly.

“Well… much as I love the hotel with the spa and the room service, it would be nice to have a place just for us. Now my hours at work are going to be reduced, it makes more sense to move closer to you. I would like a flat, with two rooms, one for Grogu and one for,” Din leaned in and pressed the gentlest of kisses to your lips “…. us,” Din whispered against your lips, smiling at you in such a way you felt almost embarrassed by the love you saw in his eyes.

For a brief moment, you were not standing in the street with Din. You were transported through time, venturing inside one of the houses you were loitering in front of to a scene so vivid that you could almost reach out and grasp it with both hands.

You could see lazy weekend mornings where the sun streamed in through the windows and turned everything it touched to gold. You’d wake up in your large bed, head on Din’s warm, firm chest as his arms encircled your waist, holding you tightly. You’d spend a few precious moments cuddling Din close while he slept after a pleasurable night the two of you had enjoyed.

Sighing contentedly in the tranquillity until you heard the unmistakable pitter patter of small feet outside, belonging to the child who had featured so prominently in your love story so far. Grogu would run in and jump on the pair of you before the three of you headed into the kitchen to make breakfast.

You stood there, trying to figure out which house was the one from the vision.

Any one of these beautiful buildings could be it, a well-furnished space that still felt intimate and cosy. That felt like a home that the three of you were carving out together. A light space filled with lots of love and laughter. It was so achingly realistic that you felt a chasm opening in your chest, causing tears to sting the corners of your eyes…

“Sorry, it’s too much, too soon…” Din said, brown eyes looking down at the ground.

He had taken your silence as you daydreamed about a future together as an indication that you weren’t interested, that you didn’t want it. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

“Never, Din,” you whispered, the hope that you saw in those soulful eyes as he glanced at you almost took your breath away. “I want to build a future with you,” you nodded, desperately blinking back the tears that threatened to spill down your cheeks.

Din merely smiled at you, caressing your chin with his fingers lightly before he leant in to kiss you softly. It was so tender, so sweet. A deliberate movement that showed you how much he appreciated your words and how deeply he felt them, too.

“I’m so glad you said that,” Din admitted softly.

You stayed like that, staring at each other for a few more moments, each too emotional to truly put your feelings for each other into words. You felt something other than love settle in your stomach. A fire had been lit in your belly, a steely determination to see the vision you had come to fruition. No matter how long it took, it was the life you wanted for yourself. You were absolutely certain of that fact.

Unfortunately, however, you could not stand in this moment forever.

There was the life you had to lead now which took precedence. Plus the fact that the residents might find your continued loitering outside their houses unnerving.

As you began walking down the street once more, you felt a sense of overwhelming serenity wash over you. There was no doubt in your mind that it would one day be the life you and Din shared.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

It was approaching midnight and the streets were mostly deserted. You had work the following morning and you knew Din had to get back to his cottage for Grogu. Still, that didn’t mean you wouldn’t at least try to get him to come home with you.

“Wouldn’t you at least come back to my flat with me?” you asked, flashing your best puppy dog eyes at him to try to get him to change his mind.

“Nice try, Sunflower,” Din chuckled, shaking his head at you affectionately, “I really can’t.”

“Please?” you asked again, looking up at him through your eyelashes, “I have a nice, comfortable bed in the flat I rent all by myself.”

You were probably being a bit desperate and pathetic and you knew it, but the way a frown suddenly flickered across Din’s features at the mention of your bed and flat caused a pang of insecurity to flood through you.

Din had not been back to your flat since that night he had bolted once the two of you made it to your bedroom. You had never brought it up again, you knew for certain now – even if you had doubted it at the time – that Din was physically attracted to you. He had shown you that plenty of times.

The pain of his rejection that had floored you back then was mostly a distant memory now. Still, the frown which had unmistakably crossed your face made you wonder why Din was so averse to coming back to your flat. Before you could ruminate any further on his reasoning, Din’s deep voice soothed you.

“Don’t make this any harder,” Din murmured as he closed his eyes and sighed, “I have to get back for Grogu, I was away from him all day. If I wasn’t there when he woke up, it would unsettle him. I wouldn’t be able to enjoy myself knowing that. Plus, you have work tomorrow… let’s wait until the weekend. We’ll have all the time in the world then, Sunflower.”

“Okay, Din,” you conceded.

“Believe me, I want to… it’s just…” Din stopped and looked down, sighing deeply, “Hard, with all the responsibilities we have.”

“I know, Din,” you nodded, leaning into him and placing your head on his shoulder to reassure him, “I shouldn’t have asked when I know that you can’t. It wasn’t fair of me. I just really like spending time with you.”

“I know, darling,” Din murmured, dropping your hand to bring his arm around your shoulder, as your arm encircled his waist, “I wish we could just see each other whenever we wanted, but work is winding down for me now so I will have more free time. Then, we can begin looking for a place for both of us, and Grogu.”

“I can’t wait,” you smiled, burying your face into Din’s warm, broad chest.

The scent of his cologne sent a pulse of desire coursing through your veins. It was unfair that he was here, looking so gorgeous and there was nothing you would be able to do to show him just how attracted to him you were. It certainly wasn’t for lack of desire, though.

The two of you stood there in a tight embrace for a few moments, before you stepped back and took Din’s hand again. It was getting late and you knew you needed to head for home, much as you didn’t want to leave him.

The Tube station was just around the corner and before you knew it, you were standing before the distinctive illuminated red and blue sign, so ubiquitous with the London Underground network.

With a lump in your throat, you realised that it was time to say goodbye to each other. Your heart ached, but you knew you would see Din again in only a couple more days.

“I’ll see you this weekend, then?” Din questioned, leaning down to drop a lazy kiss onto your lips as you stood outside the station.

“Yes, I can’t wait,” you replied.

“Text me when you’re home,” Din asked as he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“I will, Din,” you nodded. Caring about the welfare of his loved ones was absolutely Din’s love language.

Din stole one last kiss from your lips before you turned to walk away into the Tube station. Not without a lingering look back at him, appreciating one more time how handsome he looked in his outfit.

After passing through the ticket barrier and descending far beneath London and onto the platform, you finally allowed Din’s words from earlier to sink in.

The fact that this incredible man who you loved so much, not only loved you in return but wanted to settle down and carve out a future for you was nothing short of electrifying. You thought back to the timid, awkward version of yourself who had first laid eyes upon him in the museum on that fateful day. You were so in awe of him, yet so certain that you would never catch his eye.

Look at you now.

It was almost unbelievable where you were now and how close the two of you had grown. You never would have believed someone like you could capture the heart of Din, that he would be your boyfriend. But he was. And he wanted to build a life with you.

Yet, as you got on the tube and began your journey home, your mind was once again racing with unanswered questions and lingering doubts. You felt bitter thinking about how Din could have been joining you.

You knew it was because of Grogu, of course. Their bond was so strong and the way that Din cared for his adopted son was just one of the many reasons that you were infatuated with him.

Still, you could not quite shake the feeling that you were missing something. That perhaps you should not be so keen to put down roots with a man that you still felt you hardly knew.

Then you thought of all the happy times with Din and all of those anxieties faded away, only to be replaced by new doubts when you thought of moments such as the one by the boathouse.

It was exhausting.

So, you reached for your earphones and went straight to the playlist of your favourite pieces from the Mandalorian’s soundtrack to quieten your racing thoughts. For a few moments as the train hurtled far beneath the quiet streets of London, you were somewhere far away, soaring through the stars with Mando.

A galaxy away from your anguish over Din…

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Those uncomfortable thoughts continued over the next few days until you could see Din again. The Mandalorian soundtrack could only stave them off for so long. The sheer contrasting emotions were difficult to stomach. The simultaneous sheer joy you felt at knowing Din wanted the two of you to live together and the lingering questions you had about him that remained unanswered.

Through it all, of course, Ria had been there for you, a shoulder to cry on and a friend to squeal with about Din when things were going well. Like today, as you pulled out your phone to text her on the way to Din’s cottage from the back of the car he had sent to collect you.

[mandoismine] 13:18 morning ria. hope you have a good weekend!!

[thisistheslay] 13:17 Thanks bestie! Not much planned for me, just recovering from work lmao. But what about you, when are you next seeing Din?

[mandoismine] 13:18 im on my way to his house now. he sent me a car to pick me up :)

[thisistheslay] 13:20 OOH!! A SUGAR DADDY!!

You looked out of the window and rolled your eyes, tutting at her antics.

[thisistheslay] 13:22 - I’m only joking. But I still think he’s Mando ;)

[mandoismine] 13:25 - i know haha dw. he isnt!! but i might ask him today if he works at the volume today… surely he could just TELL me that

[thisistheslay] 13:27 - DEWIT!! Hope he can tell you some secrets. Maybe he met Mando?!?!

[mandoismine] 13:30 - haha maybe. almost here now, ill text u later :)

[thisistheslay] 13:32 - Okiiiiii! Have fun with your mob boss boyfriend ;)

You couldn’t help but scoff at Ria’s antics once again. It was a running joke between the two of you that Din was either part of the mafia – hence the wealth he apparently had access to – or was The Mandalorian, given the fact he lived in Nevarro.

You thought both scenarios were equally unlikely, despite how much some of your other internet friends had teased you about the possibility of your boyfriend being The Mandalorian.

Still, it was nice that you could joke about it with Ria. It somehow made the preposterousness of the situation feel far less intense and daunting. It calmed your pounding heart as you pulled up outside Din’s cottage.

Once you headed up the familiar garden path, there was no more anxiety or tension. You were happy to soon be back in the arms of the man you loved. Which you were, barely having time to breathe for, as soon as Din opened the door, he pulled you straight into his arms.

Din often greeted you enthusiastically after spending some time apart. This time, however, was nothing short of desperation on his part as he pinned you against the door, securing his leg between your thighs as he thoroughly kissed you. His kisses were relentless as he searched your mouth with his tongue, desperate for his fill.

“Din,” you panted when he finally pulled away, “What about Grogu?”

“Grogu is out for the day with Kuiil,” Din rasped into your ear as he took your earlobe between his teeth, “It’s just the two of us, Sunflower.”

You did not dare to reply with words and waste a single second of the precious alone time you and Din had by talking. Instead, you dived back into his lips. Wasting no time in communicating with words what you could convey with your lips and tongue.

The two of you didn’t even make it upstairs to Din’s bedroom. He dragged you through the cottage, giggling breathlessly as he went before he sat down on the sofa and pulled you onto his lap. Din secured his strong arms around your waist, his hands splayed out across your back underneath your T-shirt, causing you to break out in goosebumps wherever his fingers roamed.

“So beautiful, missed you so much,” Din rasped, before your mouths collided once again.

“Missed you too,” you replied when you finally parted.

You continued hungrily making out for a few more moments, before it became impossible to ignore Din’s aching hardness underneath your lap. You moaned as you ground down on him, desperate to feel him. Din bit his lip and groaned in response. The sight was so erotic that you were pretty certain you would climax if he simply allowed you to continue riding his muscular thigh.

However, Din clearly had other plans. You barely had time to react, before Din switched positions and you were sitting on the couch. You certainly did not have a chance to speak.

Especially since the sight before you was so erotic, that all breath was stolen from your lungs.

Din sank to his knees before you, looking up at you with darkened eyes as pulled your pants and underwear down. He trailed featherlight kisses back up your legs, paying particular attention to the inside of your thighs. You groaned, wordlessly begging with your actions for him to give you the release you were aching for as you arched your back towards his waiting mouth. To put his lips where you wanted them most.

“All for me?” Din questioned, raising a brow flirtatiously as he looked at your glistening core.

“Din, please,” you whined, desperate for his touch.

Fortunately, Din was equally as desperate as you. He dove in without further delay, moving his skilled tongue as your legs trembled in ecstasy. You were desperate for more of him, eager to have him worshipping you on his knees forever. You knew he would, if only you asked.

Din did not seem to care when your thighs clamped around his skull. In fact, it spurred him on to caress parts of you with his tongue which made you see stars. You moved your hands to his hair, tangling your fingers in his soft curls and encouraging his movements.

When he finally added his thick fingers, you felt the burning in your belly transform into an inferno. Chanting the single syllable of his name as you reached ecstasy.

Afterwards, you sat there for a few moments, unable to speak, barely able to breathe. Utterly blissed out from the pleasure he had brought you. Your legs twitched uncontrollably.

Finally, when you had composed yourself enough to raise your head from where it had slumped against the back of the sofa, you sat up to look at the man who had just driven you to such heights of pleasure.

Din was still between your legs, leaning a stubbled cheek against the top of your thigh with a thoroughly satisfied smirk on his face. His warm brown eyes were full of love. You wished you could live in that moment forever. He looked so handsome, it was almost offensive to your lust-addled mind. You would have been content to spend the rest of your life in that moment.

That was until you looked down at Din’s dark grey jeans and noticed the sizable bulge that was visible. There was no way it could be comfortable. You were more than eager to offer Din some relief. It had been too long since you had the opportunity to wrap your lips around his impressive length.

“Allow me to return the favour,” you breathlessly offered, nodding towards Din’s crotch.

Din raised his head from your thigh instantly, the warmth of love and affection that had been evident in his eyes was replaced with something darker. He did not stop you as you stood from the couch on trembling legs and offered him a hand.

Din took it and when he was at his full height, you wrapped your arms around his neck and clashed your lips together with his. The heat that had disappeared down to a gentle simmer as you basked in the afterglow of your orgasm had been replaced by something far more desperate, now.

Din groaned into your lips, a sound which you heard once more when you attacked the buttons of his shirt. With the troublesome material out of the way, you placed your hand on his chest and pushed lightly until he flopped down on the couch.

Din sat there, transfixed by the sight of you with his mouth open in lust as he watched you sink to your knees between his legs. Eager to pay back the debt.

There was no point in delaying the inevitable any further and teasing him. You both knew what you wanted.

Without hesitation, you removed his throbbing length from its confines, noticing in awe how flushed the skin was there. Your mouth watered at the sight of it. It had been far too long and nothing made you feel more powerful and attractive than rendering this mountain of a man into a trembling wreck as you took him in your mouth.

You took his head in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip a few times as Din groaned your name, unable to help himself from thrusting up into your mouth. He wanted more. And you were more than happy to give it to him.

You opened your mouth and took him as far as you could, head enthusiastically bobbing up and down along his length. As always, you struggled to fit all of him in your mouth.

Still, you were determined and Din encouraged you with his fingers in your hair. When you made it far enough down, he choked your name out in ecstasy. You moved your head back with an obscene pop, catching your breath and looking up at him in adoration through your eyelashes. You were determined to provoke such a reaction in him again.

As your head bobbed up and down Din’s length with renewed urgency and determination, his moans and gasps picked up in pace and volume. You sensed he was getting close but you did not draw back, thoroughly enjoying rendering him so desperate and breathless with your mouth.

Din came with a cry of your name, fingers on the back of your head as he gasped and panted through his orgasm. You made sure you collected every last drop of him, a sight which you could tell pleased him. He groaned as you withdrew. In response, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand as you glanced up at him, satisfied with your handiwork.

Much like you a few minutes previously, Din was unable to form words. He flopped back against the couch, muscular chest heaving as his eyes stayed closed in bliss. You took his large hands in yours and pressed kisses to each one of his calloused fingers and palms. Worshipping a part of him that you loved so much.

When Din had finally regained his composure, his deep voice finally cut through the silence.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could have lasted longer,” Din apologetically murmured, “It had been too long.”

“It’s fine, Din,” you smiled, “We have plenty of time to make up for that later.”

Din nodded with a tired smirk and pulled you back onto his lap on the couch. You curled up into his neck as he grabbed the blanket which was slung over the arm of the sofa. He threw it over your bodies, a warm layer that you were pleased to be snuggled underneath. Especially since the sheen of sweat which had appeared across your bodies during the heated passion of earlier was now cooling and shivers traversed your body.

You felt your eyelids growing heavy. You put up a valiant effort to fight against sleep, but curling against Din’s side while he held you tightly was too tempting to resist…

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The sound of a toddler crying caused your eyelids to flutter open. To your surprise, you were lying down on the couch, a pillow underneath your head rather than Din’s shoulder.

As you came to your senses and discovered how gravelly your mouth was thanks to sleep, you were momentarily disoriented, forgetting where you were. Then, with a shy smile ghosting across your lips, you remembered what you and Din had been up to before you nodded. You must have really needed the sleep, which made sense considering how exhausted you had been by a hectic week at work.

You couldn’t dwell on your impromptu nap for too long. The sound of Grogu’s wails tugged on your heartstrings. You pushed yourself up from the couch, rubbing your groggy eyes as you padded towards the kitchen.

“Is everything okay?” you murmured as you stood at the doorway.

Din was standing in the kitchen, holding Grogu who was swaddled in a blanket to his chest.

“Kuiil told me that Grogu was fussing and thinks he’s coming down with a cold,” Din sighed, his brown eyes weary, “I’m trying to give him some medicine, but he won’t take it.”

You nodded solemnly before approaching Din and Grogu, aching to see the little boy so distressed.

“Are you feeling a little poorly, buddy?” you sympathetically asked Grogu, reaching out your hand to touch his forehead with the back of your hand.

You winced as you felt that Grogu’s skin was hot to the touch. You cast your eyes towards Din, feeling awful at the way worry was etched across his features.

“Will you be good and let your dad give you some medicine?” you asked in the hope that Grogu would acquiesce, “I know it tastes yucky, but it will make you feel much better.”

Grogu looked at you with a frown, clearly not wanting to have the vile liquid pass through his lips. You stroked his cheek affectionately, pleading wordlessly with the look in your eyes. Grogu had still not said his first word, but you knew he understood the world on a deeper level than perhaps anyone else you knew.

After a few moments, Grogu nodded slowly. You smiled at him appreciatively and grabbed the bottle from Din’s hand. Luckily, Grogu accepted the medication without much fuss.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

You frowned at the footsteps from the hallway outside which indicated that Din had returned from Grogu’s room yet again. This time, you did not bother to turn over to question him on the boy’s condition. You did not want Din to think you were smothering him, so you laid there quietly and tried to fall asleep.

You had been hoping that taking the medicine would help Grogu to settle. Unfortunately, the little boy continued fussing for the entire evening. Din had anxiously chewed his lip throughout, refusing to allow Grogu out of his sight.

The man would not bat an eyelid if there was something seriously wrong with him, but when it came to someone he loved, Din was frantic with worry. His protectiveness towards the people he loved was one of the things you loved most about your boyfriend.

You had been hoping for Din’s sake, as much as Grogu’s, that his condition would improve. But that was not to be. Grogu had been listless in Din’s arms. You wished that there was something that you could do to help make the vibrant little boy well again. All you could do was stand by Din’s side as he sat on Grogu’s bed, cuddling his son and giving them some privacy when Din finally tucked him in.

Din’s anxious vigil over Grogu continued well into the night, even after Grogu had finally fallen asleep, as his latest excursion across the hallway indicated.

Despite setting up the baby monitor and cuddling up to you in bed, Din could not settle, no no matter how many times he checked the device.

Making up for before was definitely off the cards. It was one of those things you had to be prepared for and expect when dating an older man with a child. You knew that Din’s priority was Grogu, he had never attempted to hide that fact from you.

So, when the sheets rustled and Din got out of bed yet again, you did not fuss or make him feel guilty for checking on his boy. You understood that he would not be able to rest until Grogu was well again.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

When you blinked awake early the next morning, the pale light of a new day streaming in through the windows, you did not feel the familiar soft snores which indicated Din Djarin was asleep by your side.

You were a little concerned when you rolled over to discover Din’s side of the bed empty. Your immediate fear was that Grogu’s condition had taken a turn for the worse, and Din had hurried out with him to hospital without having time to inform you.

Without hesitation, you pushed yourself from the bed and padded towards Grogu’s room, anxious for what you would discover in his tastefully furnished room.

Fortunately, you had no reason to fear.

You breathed a sigh of relief at the sight before you. Grogu was sleeping peacefully in his bed, while Din was on the floor at his side. Hulking physique barely hidden beneath a comically small blanket as he dozed.

The light streaming in through the curtains and colouring everything golden was so much like the vision you had outside the house in Notting Hill a few days ago, that it almost took your breath away. Perhaps the future you had been imagining was right here before you already. Without you even realising it.

Your heart ached at the sight. It was so touching that you contemplated grabbing your phone and snapping a picture of the perfect moment. Before you could, Din stirred, face immediately breaking into a smile once he laid eyes upon you.

“Morning, Sunflower,” Din groggily whispered.

“Morning, handsome,” you smiled, “Sleep well?”

“I did when I eventually got to sleep,” Din replied softly, careful not to wake Grogu.

“Why don’t I go and fix us some breakfast?” you questioned, eager to make yourself useful.

Din nodded gratefully, “That would be perfect.”

You blew a kiss to him before you left, deciding that pancakes would be the perfect pick-me-up for both Din and eventually Grogu, whenever he finally arose. You were relieved that Din had managed to get some sleep and that Grogu seemed to have settled.

After mixing the pancake batter and allowing it to sit for a few minutes, you were so engrossed in the task of making the sweet treats that you did not hear Din’s footsteps approaching. The first indication you had of his presence was a muscular pair of arms snaking around your waist.

“Din,” you warned, as he began kissing a path up your neck.

You refused to have the guilt of burning Din’s beautiful cottage to a crisp, too distracted by his attempt to seduce you.

“Wanna make up for last night?” he rasped into your ear, hot breath ghosting across the sensitive skin which caused a jolt of desire between your thighs.

“After I’ve finished the pancakes,” you murmured, “I worked hard on them.”

Tempting though the offer was, you were determined to treat Din to one of his favourite breakfast items. So, albeit reluctantly and not before stealing a kiss from your lips, Din retreated and patiently sat at the table, waiting for you to finish.

With the last pancake plated up, you turned to face Din. Who you discovered had stood up from the table to stand before you. Without wasting another second, he leaned in for a kiss. You groaned as he deepened it, tongue exploring yours. He tasted of minty toothpaste, indicating that his plan had not been entirely spontaneous.

“I love you,” Din whispered as he momentarily drew back, eyes overcome with an emotion you could not quite place as he cradled your chin with his hand, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb, “Thank you for being so patient with Grogu last night.”

“Of course, Din,” you smiled, giving his lips a quick peck.

When your lips met again, the frenzied desperation of moments ago was a distant memory. Din was taking his time, savouring the moment as he pinned you up against the kitchen counter. His lips descended lower and lower down your skin, trailing a hot path down the column of your neck before he pulled back your shirt, desperate to expose more skin as he nipped and sucked at your collarbone…

“Patu!”

Din instantly stopped his ministrations, drawing back from you as his chest heaved. You desperately hoped it wasn’t what you thought it was. But you would recognise that sound anywhere.

“Buir!”

There was no avoiding it now. The babbling from the baby monitor had interrupted the moment once again. Din flashed you an apologetic look and immediately dashed off to check on his son.

You sighed as you watched him go. You felt greedy to want Din all to yourself. After all, you had been equally concerned for Grogu’s welfare and loved him as much as Din did. Still, it had been so long that you had a moment together. You were frustrated that fate had conspired to keep you stressed and apart, even when together…

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Grogu rallied throughout the afternoon, so much so that Din felt confident enough to call Kuiil to hire his services for a couple of hours, so the two of you could round off your weekend in your favourite way; taking a pleasant evening stroll together around the lush countryside near his house, before stopping for a pint in The Nevarro Arms.

The decision to visit here for the first time had been rather spontaneous, after the day you had entered the lake in Hyde Park. It seemed odd, the first time you had got in and met the landlord, a man called Greef Karga, that he had never met Din before. The Nevarro Arms appeared to be the centre of the little village in which Din lived. You shouldn’t have been surprised at the solitude you knew Din preferred, but you thought it was sad that he was so many miles from home and it hadn’t been until he met you that he had finally ventured out and about and shown his face in places.

Happily, it was now somewhere that you looked forward to visiting. Din had enthusiastically taken to pub culture. He had even come to enjoy the friendly conversations with Greef as he pulled two pints of your usual.

You loved your evenings at The Nevarro Arms. The atmosphere was cosy and homely, reminding you of home somehow in the feelings it provoked in you. You had come to learn that home was a feeling rather than a place.

This particular Sunday, though, was not like the others.

The first indication that something was different was the number of people that were gathered on the front step of the pub, next to the rose bushes that were underneath the old windows. You loathed busy pubs. A sinking feeling already began somewhere deep in the pit of your stomach.

You and Din flashed each other a curious glance, but proceeded to enter anyway.

An action that you regretted as soon as you stepped into the old pub and heard the relentless hum of people.

Your fears had been realised. The Nevarro Arms was far busier than the usual quiet Sunday evenings you had grown accustomed to. Once you took a closer look at your surroundings, you noticed that your usual table by the windows had been occupied. It only added to the chasm which was opening up in your chest. Greef always tried to save it for you, but there were many more people in here than usual.

You considered leaving, but you knew how much Din enjoyed his pints. So, you grabbed his hand and made your way over to the bar. Your favourite pub landlord enthusiastically greeted you, his entire face illuminating at the sight of you and Din.

“Nice to see you two! What can I get you, the usual?” Greef boomed.

“Yes please,” you smiled brightly, “Thank you, Greef.”

“Anything for two of my most valued customers! Sorry it’s a little bit busier here than normal tonight,” Greef said as he commenced pulling your pints.

“Oh it’s alright!” you lied, “Is there some kind of party?” you asked, inquisitively.

Greef nodded and leaned in towards you and Din, as though he were about to divulge state secrets.

“Apparently, one of the shows that films at the studios near here has just wrapped and a lot of the crew are having an unofficial wrap party before a bigger event in London next week.” Greef explained in hushed tones with a chuckle, “But don’t ask them for any details, they won’t tell me a thing!”

You threw your head back in laughter, but Din did not move a muscle. He suddenly looked incredibly anxious. You were concerned for him, but Greef handing your pint to you momentarily distracted you.

When Din paid for your drinks, you finally took a moment to observe him, noticing how his brown eyes roved across the pub. It was as though he was searching for a familiar face.

You were too distracted to let your mind wander that you were probably in a pub filled with people who had worked on your favourite TV show. Instead, you were preoccupied with the way Din’s fist had tensed, where he was resting it on the bar, at the mention of the TV show.

It was noticeable how his entire body suddenly went stiff. He looked around the pub apprehensively, shoulders slumping as though he was trying to hide. There he was again, giving the theories that Ria had more credence. Still, you knew Din didn’t like big groups of people. Especially strangers.

So you tried your best to push those doubts to the back of your mind, even if it was part of a larger pattern that had caused you to question certain things over the course of your relationship.

Din’s behaviour after you left the bar and found a table however, gave you increasing cause for concern. As you sat there, sipping your usual pint of cider, he was quiet, withdrawn. Chewing his lip nervously as his brown eyes stared so intently at the pint of cider on the table like it was the only thing in the world. It was almost as if he had physically shrunk in stature, broad shoulders hunched over, as though he was trying to make himself as small as possible.

Suddenly, it was as though the transcripts of conversations you had had late at night with your friends in the groupchat came flooding back. Their reactions when you had told them about the proximity of your boyfriend’s place to the studios where your collective favourite TV show was filmed, how they had been so keen to get the gossip about it from a local and begged you to bring it up.

Half of them were convinced Din worked on The Mandalorian but was sworn to secrecy, it had started in jest at first, but the more you told them about Din, the more crazy theories they were making. It had been fun at first, but they needed to remember it was your actual life! It was far from the playful way that Ria kept ribbing you that he was actually playing Mando, they were veering into conspiracy theory territory.

Perhaps they had been onto something after all. Din’s entire demeanour had completely shifted since Greef had told you what the party was in honour of.

You looked up from the table where you were sitting and noticed what you were sitting in front of. It was a spot in the pub you had always gazed at as you walked past, but never had the chance to sit and admire. Din was always eager to quickly move past this particular section of the pub.

With it being the only available table tonight, it seemed that you would finally have your chance to bring up something you had been dying to for weeks. It wasn’t as though your boyfriend was particularly forthcoming with conversation, either.

So you sat there, glancing up at the pictures and art that was a sort of shrine to the sci-fi franchise that was, in your mind, the most iconic of all time. A franchise that you had grown up with, but never truly loved until you watched Mando, the show that had comforted you at your worst moments.

The fact that Din might be linked to that piqued your curiosity as much as it concerned you, given his current bizarre behaviour.

So, you decided to finally bring it up. You were tired of all the uncertainty:

“It’s pretty cool that they have all this memorabilia from the productions filmed here,” you observed, as you gazed around at all of the signed photos and posters that had been donated by various cast members, including by the big three from the original Star Wars trilogy.

“It is,” Din nodded, deliberately avoiding making eye contact with you.

His brown eyes were fixated on a menu in a way that was unusual, considering you were so known for ordering the same thing every weekend that Greef knew precisely what you were going to order when you walked up to the bar to place it.

“I do think it’s kind of a crazy coincidence, though, how my favourite show shoots only a mile away from here. A mile from where you live,” you shrugged, sipping your cider thoughtfully, “Have you ever seen any of the cast around?”

“No, I haven’t,” Din replied sharply.

“It’s just a weird coincidence, that’s all. You say work brought you here to Nevarro and yet, apart from those studios, there is nothing else here.”

“Yep. Weird coincidence,” Din confirmed, still not making eye contact with you. Staring at the menu for so long that you knew he could have read it ten times over.

“Wait, why are you being so defensive? It’s not like you’re actually The Mandalorian,” you questioned teasingly, laughing at what you thought was clearly a joke.

Your laughs soon died on your lips, as you noticed Din’s reaction to the joke. He tensed up completely, flinching as you had said that name.

You were sure you had seen him visibly recoil.

There was something there, you knew it.

Still, at that moment your chief concern was for him. The playful banter and flirting that had been present on the walk you had enjoyed before you had stopped here for your usual pint were gone, replaced by a tension and unease in the air that made you feel sick to the pit of your stomach.

“Wait, Din… I was only joking,” you clarified, fearing that despite everything, you had upset him.

“Finish your drink. Then let’s go,” Din said, slamming down the menu on the table and draining his pint with the astonishing quickness of a seasoned cider drinker that you knew he was not. Perhaps he needed some Dutch courage.

“We can just leave, Din,” you reassured him. Suddenly the rest of your pint did not appeal to you, despite how much you enjoyed it and could taste the freshness of the apples that were farmed only a few miles away from here, “I don’t want you to be upset.”

Din nodded and stood to his feet, offering you his hand. He was being astonishingly quiet and your heart ached, seeing him retreat into his shell like this. The cosy Sunday evening that you had been so looking forward to all week – The Nevarro Arms really had the best cider offerings – would not be on the menu today. Instead, just a lot of tension and unease. It was the worst possible way to end your weekend.

It almost broke your heart.

You had almost made it out of the pub without further incident. You could see the pale blue sky after the sunset through the glass of the door, you could almost taste the sweet air of the warm summer night.

Then, it happened.

The moment which caused your jaw to drop in disbelief.

The moment which proved to you beyond all doubt that your suspicions had not been unfounded delusions.

As, at the same moment that you went to push on the heavy door that led to the quiet street outside the pub, it opened from the other side. You almost stumbled forward as the door you were expecting to be there had already been opened, but fortunately you caught yourself in time.

At first you were slightly disoriented, but then you noticed that you had almost crashed into someone else. He was a portly man who was taller than you. You had not yet looked at his face, just saw his chest area and the bright blue polo shirt he was wearing.

As you trailed your eyes upwards, your mouth opened in shock. Staring right back at you, from behind a pair of black glasses, was a man that you would recognise anywhere.

A man who had created the character that you loved more than anything else in the world.

A man whose scripts you had poured over for hours and hours, both by yourself and with your friends.

The man standing before you was Jim Freeman, creator of The Mandalorian.

But he wasn’t even looking at you. It was like you were invisible, despite the fact you had almost bumped into each other.

No, his brown eyes were looking straight over your shoulder.

Jim Freeman was staring at Din. The flicker of recognition across his face was unmistakable.

Somehow, the writer and creator of The Mandalorian knew your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend who had, just minutes ago, frozen up completely when you had jokingly accused him of being The Mandalorian. Your head was spinning.

You turned to look back at Din, a question on your lips. A question that was never asked. Din placed his hand on the small of your back and practically shoved you through the door, apologising to Jim on the way out.

Somehow you had made it out of the pub, but you were now standing there on the pavement, frozen. Your brain was struggling to catch up, to piece together everything that had happened.

You were brought back by the sounds of Din’s footsteps as he walked away at a brisk pace. Should you follow him? Should you stay here and confront him?

No, that would cause a scene. You were reeling from what had just happened, but you knew you had to follow him. There was no avoiding the conversation that needed to take place now. You couldn’t comprehend it, if you were right, if what your gut was telling you was correct, Din had more than a little explaining to do.

How could this even be possible? This kind of thing just did not happen to people like you.

You realised, with a sickening clarity that felt like a punch to your gut, that Din had been hiding something huge from you. There was no other explanation for his behaviour.

As you followed his silhouette down the country lanes, your mind was replaying all the little memories, the moments that had caused you to question who he was.

The first time you met, the comment he had made to Grogu about the Sutton Hoo helmet, the way that Din had mentioned being at the convention, how uncomfortable he seemed when you passed that child in the Mando shirt at the zoo.

The pieces were all falling together for you. But it couldn’t be true… how could it? This was surely the universe’s idea of a sick joke. There was no way that this man who had once been so shy and reserved, who was such a devoted father could be the same man behind the most fearsome bounty hunter in the galaxy. Who, onscreen, could snap a platoon of Stomtrooper’s necks like it was nothing.

You knew Mando wasn’t real, that whoever was behind him was just an actor, but the contrast…. It was too much for you to comprehend that he could be the same person.

Din continued marching ahead of you. You had noticed that he did not take your hand like he usually did, indeed as he had done when you set out on your walk before stopping at the pub. Instead, he walked several paces ahead of you, eager to get home. You were about to tell him to slow down, to wait up, but he looked back over his shoulder and called out to you.

“Please, let’s just get home,” Din said desperately, out of breath on a walk that did not usually exert someone of his fitness level.

You were stunned, he had never treated you like this.

Suddenly, whatever he was hiding from you seemed unimportant compared to this new side of him that you were being exposed to. Din had always been so careful, so caring, so attentive around you. This behaviour was unlike anything you had ever seen from him before. It made your blood run cold, sent a shiver down your spine that was unrelated to the rapidly cooling countryside air after the sun had finally set and the shorts you were dressed in.

Luckily, Din’s cottage was not too far from the pub and before too long you were walking across the uneven slabs in the front garden which led to the door.

However, Din was so anxious that he was fumbling with the stiff, old lock. It almost took him longer to open the door than it took to walk back from the pub. You felt your worry increase as you noticed the way Din’s hands were trembling. He never seemed fazed by anything, until your little joke.

Finally, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Din did not even look back at you. He kicked his shoes off and removed his coat, as if he was some kind of robot. He was about to ascend the stairs up to Grogu’s room, but you called after him, enraged about the way he was ignoring you. Especially after the events which had transpired in The Nevarro Arms.

“Din, please tell me what on Earth is going on?” you almost shouted, near hysterical at this point.

“Please, keep it down!” Din pleaded as he paused on the stairs, “Grogu is probably sleeping and Kuiil is still here. Let me get rid of him, and then we need to talk,” Din whispered.

“Alright,” you breathed, your arms folded across your body in a self-soothing gesture, shaking your head as you glared at him.

You were spiralling. What had he been hiding from you, all this time?

Clearly, your body language unnerved Din. He addressed you once again, brown eyes wide with worry.

“Please, Sunflower… I promise we will talk. Why don’t you go and start a fire outside in the pit? I'll just say goodnight to Kuiil and set up the baby monitor. Then I’ll be out to join you,” Din begged, his eyes glinting despite the darkness of the cottage.

If you weren’t so unbelievably annoyed at him, you were certain that you would be marvelling at how absurdly handsome he looked even with the lack of light as he ascended the stairs opposite the door.

The brown shirt and dark blue jeans that he had worn for your walk was one of your favourite outfits. Din had allowed his brown hair to grow slightly longer over the past few weeks and you marvelled once more at how much it suited him.

And his eyes…

Those deep brown eyes had made your heart ache for all the right reasons over the past few weeks, but now they were breaking you for a very different reason.

Your mind was racing as you made your way to the outside to light a fire in the fire pit. Simultaneously eager to have and dreading the difficult conversation you were certain was heading your way. Your hands shook uncontrollably as you gathered the kindling and placed the logs in the fire pit.

Din found you out there a few minutes later in the darkness, still struggling with the matches. He had silently crept outside and shocked you with his presence. Much like how he had snuck up on you earlier that morning as you made him pancakes. Except this time, there was no kissing. This time, there was no laughter.

Din gently took the box from you and struck the matches with alarming ease, despite how nervous he looked. You weren’t sure if it was just the chilly air, or the fact that what he was about to tell you was something that was making him incredibly nervous.

With the flames finally leaping into the darkness and finally providing some much needed warmth, Din took a seat on one of the logs by the fire pit. You remained on your feet, pacing around anxiously while he watched.

“Din, please explain to me your bizarre reaction to that question and why the guy who I know for a fact created The Mandalorian looked at you like that,” your voice trembled, struggling to get the words out that you knew could make or break everything.

Din could not make eye contact with you, fiddling with his thumbs as he stared into the flames.

“Please, don’t lie to me. I need to know the truth,” you implored him.

Din sighed deeply, clearly gathering himself together. You braced yourself for whatever it was.

When he finally spoke, you were scarcely able to believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

“There’s… there’s something I’ve been hiding from you since we first met,” Din finally speaks, his ordinarily measured, steady voice cracking and uncertain. “I just… There were so many times when I should have told you, when I could have spared you any pain. I didn’t want it to come out like this, I didn’t want you to connect the dots without me…” Din was about to continue, but you couldn’t help your reaction.

“Oh my god… it’s true…” you whispered, hand coming up to clamp over your mouth in surprise. It felt like your stomach had just fallen out of your body. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as your knees threatened to buckle underneath you. You could not comprehend what you were sure he was about to tell you.

“I’m so sorry,” Din breathed.

“I need to hear you say it,” you demanded, shaking your head at him.

“I’m… I am The Mandalorian…” Din whispered. His voice trembled and his shoulders hunched forward as he said those words that confirmed your suspicions, “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner…”

“Did you… know?” you whispered, feeling the hot sting of tears beginning to burn your eyes and cheeks harshly, “I mean, did you know how much I love the show when you started dating me?”

“Sunflower, listen. I…” Din stuttered.

“Don’t call me that!” you shouted, voice far louder than you intended. You were not prepared to give him a second to justify his actions, instantly following up with another question, “Is that why you targeted me, Din? Oh she loves Mando, she’ll be easy to use for a quick fuck!”

“No, I would never do that,” Din shook his head emphatically, but you were not satisfied.

“All these months, I’ve been so honest with you,” you choked, struggling to hold back the tears now, “Look where it got me!”

“Please, listen to me. I can explain, I…” Din pleaded.

“How many other girls have you used like this, Din Djarin? How many other girls have you held your title, your role over them to get them into bed!” you were hysterical now. Fortunately, the fire pit was away from the house so there was no danger of waking Grogu.

“I never used my role to influence you, to get you into bed. How could I, when you had no idea?” Din added calmly, “The way I felt about you was real. Everything about us… it’s always been real. I regret keeping that from you, but I promise, I have never lied to you when I told you I loved you.”

“How many others?” you gritted out, certain that if Din had lied to you about one thing, there must be more secrets he was keeping.

All those insecurities came flooding back to you. How could someone like Din ever have fallen for you, a lowly museum worker?

“You are the only one, baby, please. I love you,” Din whispered, his eyes filling with tears as he stood up and approached you.

“No, shut the fuck up, Din! You do not do something like this and then tell me that you love me! Our entire relationship, built on a lie. The worst lie you could have ever told me,” you were powerless, now, to stop the trembling, nor the tears that streaked down your cheeks, “My friends, they suspected something, tried to tell me that it was suspicious how rich you were and how close you lived to the studios. They knew! I told them they were delusional, turns out I was the delusional one for ever trusting you!”

“I know. I regret not telling you, more than you could know. But I just…” Din could hardly get a word in, your hysterical ramblings continued:

“Oh my god, that night in the suite. When I got the bottle of champagne delivered and it was for Jim Freeman, it wasn’t a mistake or a coincidence. Fuck!” you yelled, sobbing now, “It was him! The Jim Freeman, you knew back then and you didn’t tell me. We slept together, Din! We told each other we loved each other! I got close to your son! How could you lie like this?!”

“Look. I know how angry you are…” Din began.

“ANGRY?! Din, I’m devastated!” you bellowed.

Din took a step back from you.

You took a second to compose yourself, and added in a quieter voice, “I feel used, lied to.”

“Please don’t–”

“I feel like a fool. I feel humiliated. I just, I can’t do this anymore,” you admitted.

“Please don’t leave me, don’t leave me and Grogu,” Din pleaded as he took a step towards you and tried to reach his hand out to you.

“Don’t you dare use Grogu against me, Din!” you exclaimed as you stepped backwards, away from him. “I love that little boy and he is innocent in all of this! It’s not his fault his father is a fucking liar!”

“I know, I’m so sorry… I didn’t mean it like that,” Din instantly apologised.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” you said, from behind gritted teeth, “Or were you just going to lie to me forever?”

“Baby, I tried my hardest never to lie to you. I just… I couldn’t tell you the truth, my identity has to stay secret…” Din explained, the term of endearment he used boiling your blood further.

“Oh don’t start with that, Din!” you exclaimed. “I don’t care what legal agreements you have. You should have told me! We were talking about moving in together, about making a life together. How could you do that when you knew you were keeping such a secret from me?”

“I… I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m sorry. I just wanted to protect you. I was going to tell you so many times, but I’ve been a coward,” Din said, staring down at the ground below as his broad shoulders drooped. He looked so forlorn, so broken that your heart ached despite your anger.

“Yes, you are!” you exclaimed, “You’re a complete coward, and a liar!”

There was silence for a few moments as the two of you stood there. You were breathing deeply, you could hear your pulse throbbing in your ears. Your jaw was clenched so tightly that you feared it would hurt tomorrow.

You looked over towards the fire, focusing on the way it leapt into the air and the sounds of the wood crackling to ground yourself. The rage you had felt slowly dissipated, replaced with something on an entirely different spectrum of emotions: sadness and defeat.

“Please, let’s talk about this…” Din begged.

“There’s nothing to talk about, Din,” you said quietly, the anger in your voice had been replaced with sorrow. You were defeated, broken, “I have nothing to say to you.”

“Well let me just tell you over, and over, how sorry I am,” Din begged, his deep voice strained.

“You can, but I won’t accept it,” you sighed, folding your arms against the chill that you suddenly felt. The fire had lost its effectiveness with the strong emotions that coursed through your veins.

“At least let me call you a ride home and let me wait with you while it arrives?” Din offered.

“Call me that cab but I’m waiting outside. I can’t do this,” you said, shaking your head as you walked away from him.

You had thought that you had got all of your anger and aggression out of your system, but as you entered the back door of the cottage and walked through the kitchen, you felt something stirring inside of you.

You stopped by the fridge which had a collection of Grogu’s drawings – drawings of you and Din, drawings that you had helped Grogu with – pinned to it with magnets. Din had not only ruined the relationship between the two of you, he had robbed you of all the love and affection you held for Grogu, affection that Grogu clearly held for you. There were drawings of sunflowers, childish scribbles in crayon of yellow, black and green that were unmistakably the flower which Din had associated with you after your very first meeting you.

As you stood there, seething, you felt the rage bubbling up inside of you again.

When Din finally entered the cottage behind you after calling the cab, you bolted. You headed straight for the front door.

Before you left completely, you turned over your shoulder and threw three words at him that you regretted the second they were out, that you could never take back: “I HATE YOU!”

Din was standing there in your wake as you made your way outside. You refused to look back, fearing that if you did, you would see how upset he was. Your heart would break at the sight of his devastation. If you saw him so broken, you feared that you would never leave.

But you had to. There was no way you could ever trust him again.

The anger dissipated as you stood there, shivering in the cold. Replaced with deep sadness. The tears had returned, now streaming down your cheeks silently. You did take one last look back at the cottage, though, as you looked up to the window of the room that you knew belonged to Grogu.

“Goodbye Grogu,” you whispered, whimpering slightly as you uttered the words.

The little boy that you loved so much was completely innocent in all of this. He had been through so much and deserved everything, it wasn’t his fault that his father was a despicable coward.

Mercifully, the taxi arrived quickly and you did not have to stand there for too long. You clambered in without hesitation.

There was no dramatic scene like something straight out of a rom-com where Din came bounding down the path, making an apology that you accepted instantly. Before he declared his love for you and scooped you up into his arms and took you inside. No, you just got into the cab when it arrived and sat there in absolute silence until the driver confirmed your address and that your journey had already been paid for. Then, you moved off.

Before the secluded little cottage that you had spent so many days making such happy memories with Din faded away into the distance, you had already descended into full body sobs in the back of the cab, with only a bemused cabbie for company.

Despite everything, you yearned to feel Din at your side, his comforting soothing presence as he wrapped you up in his arms and made you feel safe. It was a cottage that you had created so many memories of with the man that you had unquestionably fallen in love with.

It hurt that those memories were now with the very man who had lied to you. A man who had abused your trust in the worst way possible. The gravity of his lie was too great to even entertain his excuses, that he loved you, that he wanted to protect you. It was all just empty words to make him feel better.

As the cottage faded out of sight, you knew with absolute certainty that it was the last time you would ever lay eyes upon it. You would never see Din again. He had broken your heart, shattered it entirely.

Getting involved with an older man with far much more money than you could ever hope to earn had always been a risk, you had known that.

Still, most younger women got their heart broken for completely different reasons in these situations. Yours was a unique situation that may have been comical, were it not so utterly devastating.

How could you even begin to comprehend that the very same man who had been with you for months had been behind the character that you had fallen with?

All the times that you had marvelled at how quickly you had bonded with Din, how you felt as though you had known him for a while… you realised with a sickening twist in your stomach that you had.

That the very man you had been falling in love with for the past few months was the person from your favourite TV show, a show that had gotten you through your worst days and darkest hours, now you wouldn’t even have Mando there for you.

Your spiralling, rapid thoughts were interrupted by the taxi pulling up outside your building.

Din had already paid for your taxi, so mercifully the human interaction was kept to a bare minimum as you exited, grateful that the darkness hid your puffy, tear-stained cheeks. You ascended the stairs up to your poxy flat, fumbling with the keys on shaking hands just as Din had done before you finally unlocked the door.

It was past midnight now, you should have been cuddled up with Din in his idyllic cottage, not returning to your flat alone, brokenhearted. But life was cruel and here you were, entering your cold, dark flat alone.

Before you even grasped your intentions, you marched to your bedroom. You tore your beloved Mando poster off the wall, ripping it to shreds with your bare hands before the destructive act even sunk in. You wanted nothing more to do with that show, you never wanted to even think about it again.

The Mando figures on your bookshelves were snatched up too, thrown in the bin without even a second thought. Some of them were collectibles worth a considerable sum, but you didn’t even care.

You fantasised about melting their stupid fucking helmets off.

With your destruction complete and your bedroom entirely Mando-free, you pulled your phone out to type the message to Ria with the words that you could scarcely believe were true. You briefly contemplated that you were probably violating several dozen Disney NDAs by doing so. But you didn’t care, quite frankly. Din deserved it. You typed, with shaking fingers:

[mandoismine] 00:07 - you were right. din djarin is the mandalorian.

Then you pulled the covers tight around yourself, and cried yourself to sleep.

Taglist: @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

Follow @thefrogdalorianfics for updates on my latest fics!

#din djarin fic #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #din djarin #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #pedro pascal characters #my fics #tbobw #ruNS AND HIDES AHHHHSGHJDGHJS

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h-worksrambles · 1 year

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Spoilers for Remember the Flowers Chapter 14:

Aaron’s story with the kids is really sweet. But the context of Aaron’s baggage it’s also incredibly heatwrenching. I’ve spoken before about how the game reveals his Mr. Perfect schitck turns out to be him ‘trying really hard to be perfect as a way to atone for all the wrongs he’s done. With that context, it’s actually really depressing that he keeps shutting his eyes as yet another way to try and prove to everyone around him that he’s not a monster.

#this man is precious and yet he also hurts my soul #aaron axel cosmas #axel rtf #remember the flowers

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marvelwinchester67 · 3 months

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I’m gonna need 5-10 business days to recover from the Hazbin Hotel season 1 finale.

Hazbin Hotel episode 7 and 8 spoilers (because I’m going feral) and my thoughts/unhinged feelings about it because no one else can understand quite like tumblr can

Read at your own risk

What. The. Fuck. Guys.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!

IT WAS NIFFTY WHO KILLED ADAM?!

AND SIR PENTIOUS?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! IM NOT OKAY BUT IM GLAD HE IS

Lucifer “now I’m gonna fuck you” Morningstar everyone (plz I love him so much)

So Carmilla knew who Vaggie really was and just, didn’t give a shit? Love her for that

I love Rosie. Her design, her personality, she’s amazing. She was so sweet to Charlie when she didn’t have to be and actually listened to her and encouraged her (points for the relationship advice)

So Alastor is on someone’s leash and he’s trying to wiggle his way out of it, the Vees are plotting (of course they are), and LUTE KNOWS LILITH?! THEY MADE SOME KIND OF DEAL?!

I’m so so curious about how Lute and Lilith know each other and why Lute would want her to deal with her daughter

But this implies that Adam had a previous deal with Lilith regarding something we don’t know yet, since Lute said she was in charge now that he was dead and that their deal pertained to her now

ALSO?! You’re telling me that’s what Adam looked like under his mask?! (I still loathe him but lowkey he was hot I’ll be honest right now)

Sir Pentious telling Cherri he loved her was so sweet

I soaked up every single scrap of Huskerdust I could within those last two episodes they own my soul and I’m so excited to see more of them in season 2

So it looks like Vox thinks Alastor is missing again which is why he’s plotting with the other Vees, but Alastor showed back up at the hotel during repairs so that might not last long

Alastor’s fight with Adam was so good holy shit omfg plz give me more of Alastor’s powers that shield was so cool and his verse in that final song gave me chills like, oh my god he was so mad and I’m here for it

And Lucifer showing up and telling Charlie she changed his heart and mind about the sinners? He is so precious plz protect this duck loving man at all costs

Charlie and Vaggie’s More Than Anything Reprise? Please I am sobbing they love each other so much it hurts

To top it all off- Alastor having beef with literally everyone will never not be funny. Fucking Susan? Are you kidding me. I was laughing so hard. Rosie seems like she deals with Susan a lot and Alastor calling her an Ornery Bitch was so fucking funny for no reason.

Everyone has beef with Susan now.

There is so much I have to say about this show and I could literally talk about it for years but for now I will be repeatedly listening to the soundtrack and impatiently waiting for season 2 because I no longer have the will to live after I sobbed on my bedroom floor over this show. VIVIENNE I AM IN YOUR WALLS-

#Hazbin Hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #Hazbin hotel spoilers #vivziepop #angel dust hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel adam #sir pentious #Cherri bomb #Cherri and sir pentious #husk x angel dust #charlie x vaggie #charlie morningstar

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woodenanemone · 4 months

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In my perspective, Choso is a man who could genuinely become lovesick and insane for you.

There’s nothing more that he seeks from life. You’re it. Tears fill his eyes in quiet moments when he thinks about just how lucky he is. How perfect you are for him. Just your pure existence alone brings the man to heaving breaths and panicked hands running through his hair, silently longing for his mind to just shut up and his heart to calm down. He’s… slightly terrified of you, actually.

Terrified of how unaffected he feels when thinking about hurting someone for you. Of the happiness he feels swell in his heart when he thinks about ending his own life to see a smile on your face. The sheer influence your eyes have over his body; how they increase the amount of blood running through his body, how they dot sweat across his hairline, creates a tremble in his lip and hands, the tears, oh the tears. They come in waves, when the realization that he is completely and wholly devoted to you hits him once again.

He’s also terrified of the power your lips have over his thoughts. It’s a little disturbing how often his mind will wander to the wonderful thing that is your lips. You make him want nothing more than to talk to you for hours on end— with the way your lips move, the way they form letters and words and sentences… he can’t stand the thought of him saying more than five words at a time. It’s truly just a waste of his breath if it’s taking away from the sight of your lips moving. His search history is full of questions such as “deep conversation prompts”, and “how to get someone talking for hours”. Watching your lips form such precious conversation that he stores deep in the crevices of his memory, can send the man into a fit of pure psychosis. The thought of your lips on his has yet to cross his mind; just the beauty and shape and color of your lips bring him to his knees on its own. But when it does, he has to physically hold his chest. It occurs when he’s watching a movie with Yuuji one night, the boy had long since fallen asleep on the armchair, leaving Choso to view the film he had no sort of desire to see, but had yet to switch off. He couldn’t care to remember the name, something corny. But when he saw the female actress pull the male actor into an embrace, her hands spread across his cheeks as she brought him towards her— their faces drew together slowly, his eyes flickering from her eyes to her lips, Choso found himself leaning forward on the couch, eyebrows slightly furrowing in anticipation. And there was a pause. A pause between the two actors, before their lips laid on the other’s.

A short breath of air escaped the man as he stared at this seemingly private moment, but he couldn’t look away. The way the man’s hands slithered up to cup her face so carefully, tilting his head to get more of her, to feel more of her… oh he couldn’t take it. Choso quickly switched off the TV, as if it offended him, staring at the black screen as he reflected on what he had just witnessed. Sure, he was familiar with kisses. He had accidentally seen a young couple or two wrestling with their tongues in an all too inappropriate setting. He’d always avert his eyes quickly, feeling uncomfortable and invasive. But he’s never seen it like that. Although it was shot with a script in mind, the care and the intimacy in that kiss were too heartbreaking for him at that moment, he had to clutch the skin above his heart in fear that the rapid rhythm would soon kill him. The fact that it was nothing more than a job for them, and yet there was still that amount of passion—but as he continued to think and reflect, the actors’ lips morphing into his own, and the actresses into yours— he let out an audible sound of agony, throwing his back against the back of the couch, finding himself mourning over the loss of his free will over his heart, his life. Saddened for the loss of his sanity, feeling nothing but joy at your control of his soul… he knew that was far from sane thinking.

Those lips, paired with your voice, oh he’s genuinely going to throw up. He gets sick at the sound of his own voice at some point. The fact that he’s speaking right now, as is in he’s preventing your pretty voice from filling the air and blessing his ears, is truly sickening. He wishes he could just transport his responses and conversation prompts into your brain, so you never have to pause your talking. He could never get bored of your talking. Every word you speak, every thought you convey, every joke that you tell (that sometimes flies over his head. but he laughs anyway.) is kept away in his poor, aching heart for safekeeping, he adores every single sound out of your lips. He knows there are times where you don’t want to speak, and that’s more than okay with him. He’ll gladly fill in the air with nonsense, or let the silence keep its place in the room, he doesn’t mind. The communication between your eyes is enough to fill the conversation for both of you.

He stares a lot. Like… a lot. But he can’t help it, and he’s certainly not going to stop. How could he just ignore your presence like that? To ignore your deep eyes, the curve of your nose, the sweet color of your lips, and the rise of your throat as you swallow your dinner would be a transgression he wouldn’t dare commit. It’s an insult to you and to himself to look away from you. The overpowering beauty that is you is an art that must be gazed upon, and to be admired. To be awed at. To be wept over, to be absolutely crazy about. And he was all of the above. He doesn’t even realize he’s staring at you far too long than what’s considered normal. It’s like you’re a character on a screen, and he’s a hopeless viewer, gushing over how addicting this character is, obsessively creating fantasies full of you you you, unable to break free of your voice, the shape of your face, the sight of your smile. But he isn’t a spectator, he’s here, he’s with you, and you’re with him. He can touch you (if he so dared… he doesn’t think he has the heart to invade your personal space.), he can speak to you, and you can respond. The realization that you’re not a silly figment of his imagination, or cast for a role on a screen he can only spectate, sends him into a spiral.

You control everything about him. Every thought, every pump of his enslaved heart, every tear that falls from his lovesick eyes, is all for you. You carry his heart, soul, and very existence in those (precious, pretty, delicate, oh he just wants to kiss every knuckle—) hands of yours. He’d beg for you, he would get on his hands and his knees and put his head to the ground as he just pleads for you… anything you wanted, he’d do it. You torment his life, his very being, and he craves for more.

He’s yours, he’s yours.

im soo normal about choso el oh el

#choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso fluff #choso kamo fluff #choso x reader fluff #choso kamo x reader fluff #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader fluff

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thebadboyfanclub · 7 months

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I Will Wait (Aemond x Reader)

This version of the song was the only I was able to finish and truly get in the spirit of combining the requests, hopefully you get the vibe of the whole slow burn and growing to trust type of hype and you don’t find my skill to turn a bit rusty, thank you for being patient. Also one of the requests was from @blue-serendipity I hope you like it and didn’t let you down

The house Whent was relatively new in comparison to others, yet their correlation to house Strong kept them in a comfortable situation and helped them become a noble house, they resided in one of the biggest castles of Harrenhall, the walls of it were gigantic and most of the people in it considered themselves safe from all harm.

That is until Aemond Targaryen went mad, fire surrounded the city and all one could hear was the screams of agony of any man, woman, or child that was running for their lives, Aemond upon his fury had ignored the yellow flag with the nine bats as he broke into the castle and commanded for everyone to be killed, from the corner of his eye he saw two figures sprinting across the hall, instinctively he ran after them, it was a woman with auburn hair and a child.

“Stop”

He commanded, his voice booming through the castle, surprisingly the woman came to a halt in a few seconds he caught up to them though the woman still had her back turned to him.

“Turn”

The woman spun on her heel only to reveal something Aemond had given a battle to forget, the eyes that used to haunt his prepubescent mind, she looked the same except for the height and her figure, the same high cheekbones, same silk hair, same fire holding eyes the only difference was that those captivating hues were overflowing with tears, her lips pushed to a thin line and her chin quivered ever so slightly.

All the memories passed by his brain one after the other, how she helped him practice Valyrian, the first ride he ever took her on dragon back, her soft touch against his wound as she assisted with a balm the maesters had suggested would be helpful even though nothing could come close to how nurturing her grace was for his soul.

“(Y/n)?”

“Please, not my boy”

Her voice trembling and barely audible amongst the distant screams and curses, Aemond's gaze shifted from her to the young little man who was clinging onto her for dear life, he had her hair and her ever-defiant love if he was the only thing she could think about.

“I would not-“

He stopped himself from saying the rest, he had invaded her home, he had just passed dead bodies that were probably people she greeted every day, he had already caused her pain, and to say he wouldn’t hurt her was only going to be foolish.

“He is your son?”

“Yes, please my prince, let me escort him anywhere, I will not run… he is only 4”

“Prince Aemond!”

The guard interrupted, suddenly his face from a soft and confused expression switched to a coldness similar to the harshness of the winter's ice that they used to skate over the river when they were children, (y/n) clenched her boy's hand and prepared herself for the worst.

“Take them, they are our hostages, don’t kill them”

“No! Please! Let him be!”

“Mother!”

His yelling brought a certain uneasiness to Aemond, the scene that was unfolding in front of him was almost cruel, Aemond brushed it off as him being gracious, it was either that or instant death, a dungeon was better than an abstract result that is the strangers shadow.

Aemond instructed the guards to put the boy with his mother in one of the chambers that were previously occupied by the servants, locked of course, he figured it would be easier for her to consult her offspring if he had a bed to sleep on, even if it was uncomfortable.

(Y/n) had her entire life crumble beneath her feet in a matter of days, she had recently suffered through the death of the father of her child and now she was captured with her precious boy in a room, no clue of what could happen next, the uncertainty struck her airway though she did her best to cloak it with a smile and fairytales that helped the young boy drift into slumber, countless nights were spend with her head against her window, everything inside her screaming at her to break it, a side of her wanted to jump off but how could she leave her beloved boy behind.

Then came the question, why was he doing this? Why keep her? Was he merciful or was there a motive, Perhaps this was a scheme to gain power, but how?

“Has he fallen asleep?”

(Y/n) gasped at the sudden voice, Aemond had walked in for the first time in the room, partially he had stayed away at a loss for words, what was there to say? He had brought her here against her will and now what?

(Y/n) took her eyes off the floor and fixated them on his, he wasn’t wearing his eyepatch, it brought her a sense of familiarity to see the amethyst that decorated his lost eye, he used to take the eye patch off for most of the time they had spent together, (y/n) never asked why though she had been curious about it many times.

Aemond was grateful for her district nature, truthfully the act was his way of saying he trusted her, she never cringed or showed any type of emotion at the sight of his scar, quite the contrary she had been his only source of light, she had been the one to choose the amethyst “I think it will suit you” she had said with a smile and as passing as choosing a gown, (y/n) helped him view his mutilation as just a little mishap.

“Prince Aemond”

She spoke before she curtsied deeply, Aemond had to admit she was almost perfect at keeping her composure until someone gazed at her trembling hands, her voice was audible yet hushed in order to not wake the boy.

Silence fell between them, Aemond shifted from one foot to the other his mind scavenging on what he could do or how should he speak to her. She always made him nervous but not like this.

“What is his name?”

“Arthur”

“Your fathers' name”

“My father passed right before Arthur was born, I wanted to honor him, my husband was considerate enough to allow it”

“Generous of him wasn’t it?”

“It is not a matter to jest about”

That tongue of hers, “You have fire in you, daughter, you must master it or you will get burned” her father would always advise her, she had done her best to keep herself in a certain light still no one could prepare her for this type of scenario, it was similar to walking on a tight rope and this was her stumble.

Luckily, Aemond found it rather amusing, her little hiss brought a very toned-down giggle from the prince who kept his hands intertwined with one another in front of him, she was always smart and always had something to say no matter how much trouble it could have brought her.

“There you are, I was wondering if I had managed to just find someone that looked like you”

“You find this the right time to be sarcastic?”

“If we are fair there is no right time for that, especially not when the one that holds the keys to your room is talking to you”

“You are threatening me? That’s low Aemond”

“What else am I to do?”

“Free me, let us go Aemond and I swear we won't retaliate”

“I know you (y/n), you are not the one that will sit aside”

“So what’s your plan then? Keep me here forever?”

“In a way, yes, not how you picture it though”

“I do not picture anything, Aemond, please, let Arthur go, he doesn’t deserve this”

Aemond admired her selfless act of desperation, she wasn’t interested in negotiating her freedom, although when it came to her son she had no problem begging and pleading.

If he was honest he had to admit how much he had missed the sound of his name rolling off her tongue. Aemond had never put much thought into how his name sounded until it came from her lips, so elegant, smooth like honey, it was spoken like the best of compliments, even if it was just his name to him it brought goosebumps.

“Your son is safer in the red keep, one wrong move outside these walls could cost him his life”

“I would protect him”

“I know you would, who will protect you dear? Your husband has passed, you are on your own”

“I can do it”

Aemond took one step back, bathed by candlelight yet her spirit burned brighter than any type of candle, the way she raised her chin and squinted her eyes with perseverance, stubbornness ran through her veins.

“I know it is hard to understand my dear (y/n) but this is how I am protecting you, you know better than to step out alone with your son, they will eat you alive”

“Who’s they? Your supporters? Princess Rhaenyras supporters? This war was caused by your family and now I am doomed to this-“

“You are not doomed, I saved you, think (y/n), everyone knows that the lady of Harrenhall is now a widow, how long did you envision that it would take until men tried to jump over the walls or even worse, force you to remarry?”

“My son is the lord of Harrenhall, no one would dare-“

“You are foolish or way too optimistic and I don’t know which is worst”

“So what do you suggest? That I sit under your watch until when? Until I die?”

“No, I would never imprison you for your entire life”

Aemond was forcing himself into silence, his head ached from the torment that he had created for himself, wrapped under the iron spell of doubt, still when he gazed into those eyes, oh how he had missed her, her scent was enough to drive him into insanity, when he brought them to the castle his mother went wild, it was something she had thought about and now Aemond was willing to risk it all for (y/n).

“Accept Aegon as your king, declare that Harrenhall has fallen”

“It already has, last thing I saw was that you have turned my home into ash”

“And marry me”

(Y/n)s eyes grew wide at his audacity, how could he utter such a thing? He had invaded her home, taken her without her will, and her knees buckled after what he said,. Aemond's instinct was to catch her gently and wrap his arms around her, he felt her flesh grace his as her hands went over his to further support herself, slowly he sat her to the floor without ever leaving her from his grasp.

“Have you eaten today?”

“Yes, though your guards have not been generous”

“That is my fault, I did not inform them to feed you like guests”

“Cause we are not”

“You are, I- I- it sounds insane when I say I could have killed you, I did not, when I realized that it was you I just- I remembered the moments we shared”

“We had a few good moments I suppose”

“Remember the dance?”

“You had two left feet and you were so nervous”

It was a celebration, it was King Viserys name day and everyone that mattered was there, including house Whent, she looked splendid in that purple dress, she always favored the darker colors it was no surprise she chose such a thing, Aemond had stumbled over his words when it was time to ask her if she wished to dance, to make matters worst he tripped over his feet from being distracted by her smile.

They hadn’t exchanged a word during the entire time the dance lasted, their eyes spoke the same word as neither of them looked away, a string had been wrapped around their hearts and almost forced them to come together.

If there was anytime Aemond believed in fate it was when he met her, he was infatuated by everything about her, her laugh, her voice, her hair, the way she walked with her head high, how she liked to grace her fingers over the arm of a chair before she sat down, her weakness for peaches, even her fear of thunder he had found extremely adorable.

“Why did you marry him?”

“It was my father's wish”

“Did you love him?”

“He was kind and generous, he let me be after I did my duty and he was respectful, I… liked him and of course was grateful for his warm-hearted nature”

“I would have given you more, I can give you more, I can give you everything”

“You are a prince, I am not of your status”

“You are the lady of your town, you are a lady, even if you weren’t it wouldn’t matter, as long as I get to hold you”

“Aemond let us not speak of this, it is not the time nor the place”

“Fair enough, I shall leave you be my dear”

Aemond left a sweet kiss at the top of her hair while he sneakily took a nice whiff from her hair, it was the same sensation as stealing sweets from the baker before supper, sweet and the result made it worth it.

As he rose from the floor (y/n) stayed seated, contemplating what to do, the world was on her shoulders and she was shoved into walking on a rope, she always had a soft spot for Aemond, he had been the reason her adolescent heart beat erratically, if she could just turn back time perhaps everything could have been different.

“I will not pressure you into anything, I simply want to keep you safe and I even hope to make you happy one day, you shall be escorted into a different chamber on the morrow, this is not a proper home for you”

“Home, funny word”

Aemond pursed his lips at her remark, she was bitter and had every right to be however there was a part of him that yearned for her good graces, some would call him impatient if they saw how eager he was to earn a smile or a kind word off of her.

“We have plenty of time, I will wait, as long as you need my dear”

“I shall bid you goodnight, my prince”

“Sleep well, another day awaits you”

Requests are open!

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thewayuarent · 8 months

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Perfect victim Sand

(Except he’s not)

Sand is a quite interesting case to study. There are a lot of things to love about him and trust me I do. But. He is the closest thing we have in this show to the perfect victim idea. I mean, even Force jokes about it (god I love this man).

The thing is, I have a strong feeling that huge part of the fandom literally adopted him. Like you know, compensating him absent mommy and daddy. His mother is great woman, she’s loving and caring, but she is far from an actual parental figure - @emotionallychargedtowel made a great analysis on that topic and how it clearly influenced Sand.

Maybe that’s something about Sand being genuinely loving and caring character himself. Maybe it’s because we spend 5 episodes with him being absolutely adequate and not minding others business and by the moment of episode 6 the idea of Sand was already formed. Maybe it’s about Ray pulling Sand through a lot of shit. Maybe it’s something about First’s babygirl vibes, amazing microexpressions and his big boba eyes that easily penetrates the soul. Maybe it’s all the above and more.

But Sand gets the most I’ll protect him by all cost vibes (I get it, I want to protect him too, he’s my sad stupid baby, how can I not). And while it’s understandable to some degree, it doesn’t mean Sand is a victim in every situation he himself, series or fandom try to apply on him.

And yes, it’s specifically about Sand and Top beef. While we don’t know the full story yet, we know the basis: Sand had a lover, this lover cheated on him with Top. Right? Except that in Sand’s mind this story looks a bit different.

Not once, but twice Sand claims that Top “stole his lover”. And I’m sorry to bring it to you, my precious sad baby with big beautiful eyes, but your lover is a human being. They’re not a car, or watch, or a cow. They are a person. And as a person they make decisions.

Unless we’ll find out that Top literally put a bag on their head and dragged them away into his basement, Top didn’t stole anyone. This person cheated on you. It sucks, I get it (Mew probably gets it even better than me). It hurts a lot. It’s absolutely not Sand’s fault. But it’s not Top’s fault either.

Yes, hitting on someone’s lover is a douche move (if Top knew about Sand and didn’t care and I wouldn’t surprised but we don’t know for sure). Yes, Top is an arrogant jerk who behaves like a toxic bitch with anyone except for Mew. Yes, in that hospital scene I kind of wanted to punch him in his hot smug face.

But Sand’s lover cheating is not his responsibility.

And Sand’s choice of actions is stealing and spreading fucking revenge porn. Where is not only Top he hates so much but also Boston who did to Sand what? Made an ugly scene on his birthday and ruined his whatever it was with Ray? Bitchy behavior 100%, but not on, you know, illegally recorded sex tape level.

He regrets it later, but two people he apologized to - rightfully so - are Ray and Nick. Not, you know, Boston for example.

I mean, how the thing Sand did with Top is different from the thing Mew did with Boston? In details - yes. In motivation and general action - the same shit.

And I know that the majority of saving Sand agenda is directed towards his relationship with Ray. I get it. I feel it (I have a very complicated mix of very complex feelings about that one but I digress). But I do feel that Sand isn’t criticized enough for his actions towards Top (and Boston).

Compare it with the amount of criticism towards:

1. Nick recording and using TopBoston footage;

2. Boston recording and using RayMew footage;

3. Mew stealing and using Boston footage;

The only person I doubt here to criticize hard is Ray cause while he got and resend this fucking sex tape and I do think it was wrong I kind of understand his situation. I mean he did receive it passively not actively and I doubt Mew believed him without proof. It still sucks from his side to use it and I don’t forgetting him but he was kind of a tool not a participant so yeah.

All of them are clearly wrong and deserve discussion about their behavior and all the critique they get. But so as Sand. The thing is, Sand is not a victim of Top.

Top is a victim of Sand.

And it’s absolutely not about Top being good or bad or Sand being good or bad it’s really about humans being complex and depending on that specific situation. It’s always about complexity and context.

Sand is, if generalizing, a good person. But he also selfish by some degree and categorical and has some deep trauma over his ex lover. And he does fucked up stuff.

That’s why I found Sand’s attitude towards Mew especially interesting. With MewTop situation he probably didn’t really care but at some level had a sense of justice. In his eyes, Mew is as victim of Top as he was. So Mew deserves to know the truth.

But with MewRay? And that’s where the fun (and also clear speculations) begins. Sand doesn’t have a beef towards Mew about Ray loving him and prioritizing him over Sand, at least for now. Maybe because he learned something through his last relationship, but with his behavior towards Top I doubt it. It’s probably partially because Ray is technically not his lover or boyfriend or monogamous partner - he doesn’t owe Sand anything and while he’s angry and sad he understands that.

But it may also be about the Mew technically being there first. You know, how Sand was with his lover until Top appeared. Ray loved Mew way before he even knew Sand exists. It’s actually Sand in this analogy who takes Ray away from Mew (not that he knew about it or Mew cared but you get my point). So Sand doesn’t blame Mew for being with Ray. He probably - understandably so - blames Ray for playing with his feelings and also blames himself for falling into it.

And now here is a part when I just speculate about cool plot line we’d probably never get so feel free to stop reading now. Like for real. So Sand is fine with Mew and, honestly, good for him. My question is: if Sand will buy this RayMew relationship thing. And then Ray gets back to him. Will he resist temptation?

We have a small chance that Sand will get some self respect and won’t take Ray back immediately, of course. But in a case of Mew. If Sand is stupid enough to believe there is something happening between Ray and Mew from Mew’s side, will he stay away cause of respect towards Mew and their relationship? Or will he “play Top card” and - how was it? - steal Ray to himself?

Cause oh my lord he wants Ray for himself. He can agree with Nick and his “I don’t want be his first and only it’s enough to be with him” as much as he wants but we all know that even Nick doesn’t really think so. Sand probably also doesn’t want to deal with Ray at all by that point but totally opposite desires can coexist.

It would be really interesting to watch his internal conflict about being better person but still losing to his desire plays out but I really doubt Mew and Ray will last long enough to us see it.

#ofts #only friends the series #only friends #only friends meta #only friends sand #I swear I see someone saying Sand didn’t do anything wrong ONE MORE TIME #I will explode #maybe I should stop using dead bird app and that’s all #but for real #please we all understand that I’m talking here about one specific topic and he is way more complex than just that right?

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lale-txt · 1 year

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♡ DILFS DILFS DILFS: standing on your tiptoes to reach his lips w/ Roger & gn!reader

a/n: requested by @overpoweredrogersimp ♡ big beefy man delivery right to your doorstep... i went with your original request since i already had it in my drafts (≧ω≦)ゞ it's slightly suggestive in the second half (still SFW) because that's what just naturally happens when writing Roger oops–

word count: 1.4k

Roger was nowhere to be found.

By now you probably searched the whole Oro Jackson for him; you even got Shanks and Buggy involved in your search but they got distracted by bickering at each other and ended up in Crocus’ infirmary because one of them had to get patched up. You had asked every crew member if they’ve seen the captain. Gaban looked at you from over his sunglasses and shook his head and Rayleigh frowned, mumbling something about how Roger better not have gone overboard but immediately regretted his words when he noticed your alarmed expression.

“I’m sure he’s fine. Have you searched for him in the captain's quarters?”, he asks, adjusting his glasses and you pout. “Of course I did. That’s the very first place I looked for him. Seriously, how can someone his size just disappear?” “Well, go and look again”, Rayleigh replies calmly and winks at you. “Usually we find lost things in the very first spot we searched for again.”

You roll your eyes at the old man's advice but still decide to go for it. What did you have left to lose when you already lost the most precious thing in your life? Maybe you were being dramatic. But didn’t Roger know this was an emergency? Hello? You haven’t been kissed for three hours by now, were you being punished and if yes, what for? Was he upset because you were still laughing about how he got stuck in the water slide the other day because of his hairy ass? Didn’t he know that you adored said ass? You couldn’t even walk past it without giving it a little slap and watching it jiggle so deliciously…

Making a beeline towards the captain’s quarters, your heart is about to jump out of your chest somehow. Rayleigh’s comment about going overboard nagged at you, even if the chances were low that it could actually be a possibility. Roger was the strongest and on top of that his presence was vibrant, drawing souls to him as if he was the whole sun.

But he was also terminally ill.

The captain came to terms that he only had little of life left to live a long time ago, you on the other hand… not quite yet. It haunted you. Imagining to wake up without him one day made you feel as if you’re suffocating, every fiber of your body refusing to believe that this was inevitable. You speed up your steps, tears now welling up in your eyes. Crap. Please, be okay, please, please, please…

“Roger!”

You don’t bother knocking, just burst through the door of the captain’s quarters, prepared for the worst. Through your teary eyes you can only make out shades of light and silhouettes, but there, without any doubt, he was. Usually you hide your worries from your captain, but just now you let out a relieved sob, then take a few big steps towards him and fling your arms around his waist, crying into his broad back.

“Oi, little one, what’s the matter? Are you hurt? Should I get Crocus?”

Roger sounds startled, his voice full of worry. He reaches for you and turns around, hugging you tightly against his torso while a big hand comes to your back, rubbing it soothingly – which only makes you cry harder.

“I’m sorry for what I said about your hairy ass, but please–”, you whine and clench your fists around his pink open shirt, accidentally ripping out some chest hair, “–please never hide from me again! I was worried sick about you, I thought…”

You bite your lips and swallow the rest of the sentence, just sink deeper into his embrace and feel the tension falling off your shoulders now that you could feel him very much alive. Roger does his best to comfort you, whispering sweet nothings with a low voice while he continues rubbing your back with his huge hands. He waits patiently until your hiccup from the crying stops, then holds you an arm length away from him to seek your gaze. You blink at him through a still hazy vision.

“Now… you thought I was hiding from you? How come?” He tilts his head a little to the side, an amused smile on his lips as he brushes away some of the salty streaks on your face. You lean into his touch like a love-starved kitten.

“See, when I returned from the bathroom, you were gone without a trace! The bed was unmade and cold, as if you left in a hurry… and when I went to look for you everywhere, it was as if you vanished! Usually you’re always right there when I call…”

Roger nods along sympathetically, then ruffles his own hair, guilt written all over his face for making you worry. “See, love… you kept me up all night.” He smirks at you and vivid images from last night flash in front of your eyes again, making heat rise in your cheeks. Oh. “And when I rolled over, you were gone so I assumed you went to the kitchen maybe, grabbing us a snack so we can continue with new energy… or have me bend you over the kitchen counter maybe…”

Now that sounds promising… you feel your thoughts trailing off and force yourself to stay present, gazing at Roger’s lips as he continues to explain how he just went back to bed after not finding you in the kitchen; how he took a nap and just thought to himself it would be the best to wait in the place you last saw each other because eventually you’ll return back there too, right?

“So that old man had a point…”, you mumble to yourself and take a mental note to listen to Rayleigh’s advice more often. Roger looks at you slightly confused, but you shake your head and smile. What mattered was that you found each other and that you both were alive and well. And now that the images from last night were dancing in front of your vision once again, you wouldn’t mind continuing where you left off…

You let your hands wander over his torso, taking in every inch of him, then stretch out your hands to grab his collar and pull, aiming to make him lean down to your lips. Seriously, why doesn’t a man his height come with a step ladder? He doesn’t move a bit and now you’re standing on tiptoes in a weak attempt to get any closer to that kiss you’ve yearned for so long now. Why won’t he move? Damnit, was this still about his hai–

“Something the matter?”

Roger grins at you from above, his face way out of reach for your lips. He seems amused by the way you’re slowly losing your temper, jumping up and down slightly to get that kiss you are longing for. So close and yet so far away…

Only when irritated tears start pricking in the corner of your eyes again, Roger laughs and sweeps you off your feet – literally. Within a heartbeat the captain pushes you with your back against the wall, big hands digging into your thighs as you wrap them around Roger’s waist, a hungry mouth seeking yours as you bury your fingers in his dark hair. It’s a kiss that takes your breath away and makes your toes curl, and it only gets better once his cheeky tongue slips between your lips and charms out faint moans from deep within. You wrap your arms tighter around his neck and smile into the kiss, every fiber of your body tingling.

When Roger pulls back slowly, your eyes meet and there it is again; the mischievous twinkle that started a fire back then and continues to do so. This man will one day be the death of you…

“You still owe me a few hundred more kisses for those terribly long hours you were gone…”, you coo and slightly pull his hair, making him grin. Roger leans in for another kiss, his lips hovering dangerously close over yours, making time seem to stand still. You have a feeling you won’t leave this cabin without every inch of your skin being covered in kisses… but you wouldn’t want it any other way.

#gol d. roger #roger x reader #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece reader insert #one piece fluff #one piece scenario #one piece imagine #2K3D event

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rehfan · 1 year

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New Billy Knight Fic!

.gif by @princess-josephina

Hope in the Darkness

Pairing: Billy Knight X Fem!Reader; Billy Knight X AFAB!Reader

Fandom: CB Strike (TV) — and JK Rowling can still kiss my anti-TERF ass.

A/N: Based on a Nonnie prompt I got who wanted to see Billy take care of Reader during a bout of seasonal depression, so here’s my best effort. I actually don’t really suffer from any depression that I know of, so I’ve had to go off of what friends and the Internet could tell me. If anything is offensive/insulting/out-and-out incorrect, PLEASE let me know. Depression can hit differently for different people, but I hope I got the main parts right.

ALSO — if you liked this, consider this a continuation of the story BILLY’S PETAL which can be found on Tumblr HERE and on AO3 HERE. This story as well as Billy’s Petal may be read together or separately.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY PLEASE (minor children DNI); fluff; depressive symptoms; seasonal depression; seasonal affective disorder; discussion of past physical abuse/trauma; mental illness; physical tics; emotional hurt/comfort; established relationship; cuddling; spontaneous dancing; cute fluff; kissing; French kissing; neck kissing; vaginal fingering; light Dom/sub; cock warming

Find this work on AO3 HERE — I do not post any of my other work to any other site, nor do I give permission for anyone to do so.

***********************************************

You had always been the strong one. The one everyone could lean on. Not that you were superhuman, but you did your best. Most things came naturally to you and you could cope with most of your daily life with few exceptions.

You were also the one your boyfriend Billy could count on. And he was lovely. He tried so hard to support himself and loved you with all his strength, but there were times when he couldn’t handle certain things. Billy had his triggers. Any male voice shouting abuse at anyone about anything seemed to be the biggest one to send him into a tailspin. But these were simple things for you to manage.

You understood his sadness, the dreams that would trouble him. He had explained as best he was able about his father and brother and their specific brand of cruelty. The thought of them and their abuse made your blood boil. Two men, having some responsibility for a boy younger than they, through whose emotional immaturity led them to crush that beautiful soul and almost turn him completely mad. They should both be in jail instead of one in the grave and the other god only knew where.

And good riddance. You got the best of the Knight clan. Billy, beautiful boy, sweet soul, and all yours. He picked wild flowers for you. He danced to no music in your living room. He held your hand during thunderstorms. And he loved you unconditionally. The same way you loved him.

You didn’t plan on testing his love for you. You hadn’t expected to, at any rate. As much as you felt the need to support him, you had no intention of causing him to have to support you. But let’s face it, no one plans on being a burden except those that hold their own lives more precious than others’ lives. And you weren’t like that. Neither was Billy. The word ‘sorry’ was perpetually on his lips - even when things weren’t his fault.

But you understood that it came from a need for self-preservation on his part. Blame for things, real and imagined, had been piled on Billy’s shoulders for the whole of his life. The old man used to kick him like a dog and treat the actual dogs better. The brother would tell him the kick was all Billy’s fault when it wasn’t true. Billy learned that life was meant to be hidden from and people were to be avoided. Yet, there was something of the hopeful about him.

He hadn’t heard of the legend Pandora’s Box before you came along. Why would he have? His childhood was barely there and contained nothing but harsh reality rather than fairy stories. So late one night, you told him. You saw his eyes fill with fear at the thought of all the evil in the box released out into the world in the split second the box was opened, the unleashing of all things dark and vile worming their way through and over, up and around, down and down and down until the brightness of the world was dimmed and thunder crashed and lightning split the sky. “But,” you told him, as you two lay there in the dark listening to the rain outside, “there was one thing that didn’t get out. One thing that remained as a perpetual candle against the dark. Do you know what that was, darling?”

He shook his head. “Was it something worse?”

You considered this. “In a way, it could be, I suppose,” you finally said, “but according to the story, it wasn’t. It was the best thing. It was Hope.” You gave him a moment to let it sink in before adding, “Hope was the last thing left in Pandora’s box. It was small. It was fragile. But it glowed with an everlasting brightness that pushed away all the dark around it. And that, Pandora preserved for all humanity. To this day, it is the one thing that fights the darkness everywhere we look. “And Billy,” you said, kissing him on the cheek before burying your face in his neck to sleep against his warmth, “it’s the thing I love the most about you. Your hope. The thing that helps you fight the darkness that surrounds you. Don’t ever give up the fight, my darling. You’re worth it.”

He embraced you and you fell into the feel of him, comfort and softness leading you into your dreams that night and every night since you two had gotten together.

The overcast sky was muting the sunlight for the umpteenth time on a snap-cold day in late January as it attempted to lighten your shared bedroom. Billy was up with his alarm and turned to you across the pillow. “Good morning, lovely,” he whispered. “Shall I get the brekkie started?”

“M’not hungry, thanks,” you said. You felt awful. If you were honest, you had been feeling this way for a while. At first, you suspected a flu, but no sore throat or cough made an appearance. You only knew that you were more and more drained of energy as the days grew shorter and the nights grew longer. This morning, your body had had enough.

“You need something for breakfast,” he said. “You have to work today, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “don’t want to though. Going to call in today. Need to sleep.”

“You feeling peaky?” His hand was at your forehead.

“I’m fine, babes,” you reassured him. “Just tired.”

“Oh,” he said. “Okay.” You could hear the dismay and concern in his voice and you wished you had the strength to smile brightly at him, to fool him and yourself that you really felt much better than you did. Thing is, you had already been doing that. Today, the cupboard that contained all your fakery was bare. All you had were raw emotions. You were an exposed nerve and you needed to cover yourself in blankets and drown the world out with layers of cotton.

He got up and showered. As he was quietly dressing, you could hear him thinking. His mind was so loud sometimes. But he didn’t say anything to you. He simply padded his way to the kitchen where you heard him preparing something. Somewhere between the pan hitting the hob and water running in the sink, you drifted back off to sleep.

He spoke your name softly from the door of your bedroom and your eyes snapped open. Stocking feet came forward and a mug of tea was at your bedside table with some biscuits. He knelt down, his face close to yours. “Have some tea, petal.” He brushed your hair out of your eyes, caressing your face. “I’m off to my job now. Have you called in yet? You want me to?”

Damn. You had forgotten to call in. Your brain was made of mush and everything was too slow. “Please call Jackie for me,” you said. “Tell her I’m sorry.” It wasn’t like you to be irresponsible. You were the dependable one. How could you be so thoughtless and unprofessional? Tears welled up in your eyes and you let out a sob.

Billy’s forehead was against yours as he pet your hair and hushed you. “Please tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart? Did I do something? Did I forget something?”

“No no, Billy,” you said. “Nothing to do with you. It’s all me. Don’t know what my problem is. Just feel so fucking horrid. Just call Jackie for me and get to work, eh? I’ll be alright tomorrow.”

He didn’t want to leave you. But he did call Jacks. She was surprised but understanding. You never took days off that weren’t planned, so she knew if you did, you really needed it. You could hear him on the phone with her, thanking her profusely. Bit much, darling, you thought. You’re not asking for her to spare your life. But that was your Billy: always grateful for the least thing anyone could do for him. Another remnant of his past trauma morphed into something society would brand as ultra-polite and more than acceptable.

“Now go to work,” you insisted. “I’m the one feeling grotty. Not you. Go. Go earn a living.”

He gave you a tight smile. “I hate to,” he said. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

You didn’t say anything. What fight you had left was gone. Sleep called for you again. He came to you once more and kissed your forehead. “I’ll check back with you at lunch.” He made sure your phone was on the charge and within reach before saying, “Drink your tea. It’s getting cold. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

The front door closed behind him and the house was silent. You slept.

A hand on your forehead woke you. “Shh, love. S’just me,” he said. You didn’t open your eyes. It took too much effort. “Still feeling poorly?” You uttered a grunt and felt him slide behind you in the bed above the covers.

“I’m on lunch, but I told Eric you needed me at home. That you weren’t yourself.”

A twist of guilt filled your gut. You groaned again, disparaging his decision. He hugged you tighter, the long line of his body braced you from behind and you couldn’t help but sigh a little. “I know, I know,” he said into the shell of your ear, “but you’d do the same for me. In fact, you have! Remember last October? You stayed with me for days after I ran into Jimmy.”

“You were off your meds,” you mumbled. “You needed me.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, “and you need me now. You always take care of me. It’s my turn to take care of you. I just want to know what’s wrong.” He rubbed your arm and kissed your ear. “You said you’re not sick. You don’t have a fever that I can tell.”

“I’m tired,” you said. You felt small and fragile.

“Do you feel like you want to wrap your whole body in cotton wool?”

“Uh-huh,” you mumbled.

“I think I know what’s wrong,” he said. “You’re starved.”

“M’not hungry, Billy,” you said.

“Not for food,” he said, “for sunshine.”

Suddenly, you were moved onto your back and Billy hovered above. “I’ll dance for you, shall I?”

“Wha-? What?”

He pulled out his phone and fiddled with an app, moved to your stereo, and soon Katrina and the Waves were blasting “Walking on Sunshine” from the speakers. His arms flailed and his feet stomped. He had this comical way of biting his lower lip as his head bopped to the music and his eyes were screwed shut with the joy of feeling the music pulsing through the room. Eventually he caught your eye and smiled at you, shaking his hands toward you, then his hips, then wiggling his ass in your face.

It was all so sudden and ridiculous and over-the-top you couldn’t help but burst into uncontrollable laughter. By the time the song ended, you had tears coming down your face and you cheered and applauded your boyfriend as he took a deep bow. Hands on his knees and breathless, he stopped the music and smiled shyly at you, asking, “Did that help any?”

“I think it might have, yeah,” you said, hoping that your words would be the truth. You had never felt so overwhelmed by such sadness before. Only you weren’t grieving. It wasn’t “sad” as you had known it to be. It was as if you were longing for something that didn’t exist. Your body was in desperate need of a thing no one had invented yet. It took away your ability to breathe properly, to exist properly. You hated the feel of it, the slipping away of your power and control, leaving you a husk of yourself.

Billy was watching you carefully, his knuckles coming to his nose in his worry. His tic didn’t reveal itself often these days, but when it did, it always signaled agitation or nerves. A pang of guilt ran through you and you reached out to him. He came to you readily and you hugged him tightly, thanking him over and over for his kindness.

“I’m going to get you more sunshine, alright?” He pressed his forehead to yours. “You let me? You let me help you forget the brain gremlins?”

“Brain gremlins?”

“Yeah,” he said, kissing you sweetly on the mouth. “It’s what I call it when the meds aren’t working the way they should and I have my symptoms return. The whispers and the images, the memories of the pain. The brain gremlins convince you that you’re never going to get well. That you don’t deserve the good things you have. Brain gremlins always lie. You need to forget them.”

“And so you’re going to drown them out with-“

“More sunshine!” he said, a gleeful glint in his eye. “Stay right there. Don’t move.” He dashed madly about the room searching in the bottoms of all the drawers and digging in the wardrobe until he pulled out your floppy sun hat, sunglasses for you both, zinc sun cream that smeared bright yellow on your skin, and your bathing suits.

He threw your suit at you demanding you ‘get dressed’ and ran out of the room searching for something else. You had no idea what was happening, but slowly you peeled your sleep shirt off and slipped your panties down, arguing with him from across the flat that it was the middle of winter. It’s as far as you got when he came thundering back in the room with your Polaroid camera and a beach towel that had the image of a postcard with the word MIAMI written across it.

“What are you doing? What are we doing?” you asked as he leapt on the bed and tacked up the towel just above the headboard letting the material drape over it.

“Backdrop!” he said. “For the photo shoot!” as if it were the most self-explanatory thing in the world.

“Photo shoot,” you repeated dumbly.

His intentions were readily explained once you both had donned your swim suits. He intended to take selfies with the Polaroid as if you two were on vacation somewhere tropical. You couldn’t help but smile at all his efforts. He had you making silly faces, smearing each other’s noses with the zinc, sipping on fake tropical drinks he Frankensteined together in the kitchen, and other silliness. After a while, you grabbed the Polaroid from him and started taking snaps of him while flexing his muscles. He took ones of you in shy poses because without his strong arm around you, you didn’t have the energy for much more.

“God you’re pretty,” he smiled at you, snapping just one more to capture the blush that spread across your face. He collapsed next to you and kissed your cheek. Polaroid pictures were everywhere. “We’ll have to buy a scrapbook for all of these. You can look at them when you’re not feeling yourself.”

Tears welled in your eyes, a mixture of adoration and exhaustion. His efforts were wonderful, but you were done with activity. “Want to just cuddle now, babes. Can we do that?”

Slight alarm registered in his big doe eyes. “Of course! But first, let’s get you cleaned up? And you never touched your tea from before. Your blood sugar is probably low. Let me get you a cuppa, yeah?” He got up and brought back a warm washcloth to wipe the sun cream off then went to make some tea. After settling you in with your beaker and one for himself, you relished the warmth of both the tea and of his arm around your shoulders.

“Thank you, my love,” you said. The bone-weary feeling you had been fighting all day still had not let up, but knowing that you weren’t a burden, that you were loved and doted on, somehow made the weight you carried just that much lighter. You didn’t know when these doldrums would lift, when the ‘brain gremlins’ would stop their torture. You had no foolproof solution to your problem. But you did have a wonderful human who gave a damn about you and the longer he held you and gave you gentle kisses in your hair between sips of tea, the more your heart swelled with love for him.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmured as you finished your tea. “That’s my good good girl.” His praise was warming certain other parts of you. He took the cup from you and returned them both to the kitchen before coming back to you, forming a warm, solid barrier against your back and wrapping a protective arm around your waist, hand splayed on your lower belly.

His mouth found your neck, pressing stubbly kisses into your skin. You hummed your approval, letting yourself fall into his touch. “Mind if i join you in there? I’m kind of cold now.”

“Please, baby,” you said softly. Sleep was calling you and you were torn between loving on your boyfriend and falling into slumber. The duvet ruffled and the mattress bounced with Billy’s fidgeting to get under and close to you once more. Once settled, he kissed you on the shoulder, nosing along your neck to kiss at your ear.

“You really are wonderful, you know,” you murmured.

“And you’re everything to me,” he said, his hand moving south to rest on your thigh. “I just want you to feel better, love. Can I do that?” He sucked at the pulse point on your neck and slid his hand between your thighs. “Say if you’d rather I didn’t, alright? Tell me to stop.”

“No, baby,” you said, pushing back toward him and raising your leg to give him better access. “You always make me feel so good.” And you wanted him. You wanted to feel better because of his touch. You needed it more than you could ever express.

His hand rested on your sex and you moaned a kiss into his mouth. He was in no rush, however. Your kiss was languid and deep. His hand held you, not pressing in, just resting, warming your mound, fingertips resting just above your clit as his tongue explored your mouth. You felt yourself get wet.

You kissed down his jawline as he said, “Love you so much, petal. You’re such a good woman to me. Want to do everything I can for you. We don’t need to have sex. Just want to please you. Make you sleepy and warm. Comfortable. Okay?” His hand smoothed against you, rubbing you gently with his whole palm. Your hips canted against his touch, instinctively seeking friction.

“Make me cum, Billy,” you sighed. “Your hands are amazing. Please, my love.”

Fatigue didn’t allow you to do too much except lay there and take Billy’s ministrations. And you were fine with that. His hands had become more and more familiar as your relationship had developed. Now he could make you mewl like a kitten with the suggestion of fingering you. And now here he was, willing to do just that. You felt a coil of heat in your belly as the scratch from his stubble rubbed against your neck and his middle finger pressed ever-so gently deeper, seeking out the depths of your folds from outside your bathing suit.

His breath was loud in your ear, your small whimpers joining it as he continued to massage your vulva, matching the rhythm your hips set. “So beautiful. My precious girl. Thank you for letting me help you. Only want good things for you.”

“Need your hands on me properly, Billy,” you said and he slipped his hand under your suit.

“Can never say no to you, can I?” he asked, huffing a laugh into your neck. Gasping at his touch, your hand came up, fingers weaving into his hair and coming around to the nape of his neck, pulling him closer.

He mouthed at your ear again. “Can never resist you. Always want to do what you say. But today? Today I want to distract you. You need to get out of your head. It helps. You stop me if it’s bad, okay?”

“Such a good boy, Billy. Always my good b-boy. Thank you, ” His finger grazed your clit, just brushing it gently, teasing it. You bucked toward him for more contact and he pulled back.

“No, darling, no. Easy. Just be still. Let me do this,” he said. “Listen to your Billy, yeah? My turn to take care of you.” You shivered as he pressed again, not enough to satisfy, but just enough to turn your skin to goose flesh. You turned your face to him, eyes wide, watching him concentrate on you, his lips parted, pink tongue coming out to lick at his lower lip as he traced his thick finger lower against your inner folds, giving just enough sensation to your pussy to make you keen with want.

Your legs spread even farther apart. Your knee was now balanced on his thigh behind you as you dropped your foot to the mattress behind him. Your lower hand pulled the swimsuit material all the way over, giving him full access to every part of your cunt. The rest of you tried not to move as he had asked. It wasn’t easy.

All you wanted him to do was plunge his fingers deep inside you and give you every reason to scream his name. As it was, he was just barely touching you and it was pure delicious torture. Your breath was unsteady as you waited for him to explore further, but the less he gave, the more sensitive you became to anything he was giving you. It was as if the ridges of his fingerprint were the only friction you were going to ever get from him and your clit could feel each individual loop and whorl.

“M’barely touching you. You’re falling apart on me already, petal?” he teased. He was enjoying himself. “So gorgeous and all mine, yeah? Tell me? You are mine, aren’t you?”

Your words weren’t coming. You could only communicate through the helplessness in your eyes. Your mouth opened to speak but only your stuttered breath came out. When you didn’t verbally answer him, he sought your eyes. “Petal? Are you mine?” His hand stilled.

You swallowed hard. The depths of his eyes threatened to drown you. “I am yours,” you whispered. “I am always yours, Billy Knight. Yours to love forever. Are you mine?”

He pressed his forehead to yours. “I don’t know who I’d be without you. You make me want to be a better person every day. You pull it out of me. And now I’m going to give back to you. Because you deserve it. You deserve all the good things, love. My sweet understanding girl.” His thick finger fell into your wet folds as his mouth captured yours, tongue sliding along yours thick and heavy as he drew his digit’s length along your valley eliciting a groaning moan from your mouth as he finally gave your body the friction it had needed.

There was nothing languid about his motions now. Now he was driven to give you everything you wanted. He was smoothly aggressive, fingertip seeking your stiffened clit and circling it, flicking over it, only to circle back around it again. Your earlobe was being worked by his lips, tongue and teeth as he held you captive, your body ready to writhe, but your heart not wanting to disobey. It was all you could do to keep as still as you could and endure his touch, his exploration of every crevice and your heart skipped a beat when he plunged his finger two knuckles deep inside you, thumb hitting your clit and working it until you were keening again.

Tears were starting in your eyes with the strain it took not to buck into him and you cried into your pillow. “Baby?” he asked, his hand stilling again.

You grabbed his hand and urged him onward. “Please, Billy. Darling. Please.”

“B-but you’re crying, love?” he said, clearly terrified. “Have I hurt you?”

You answered him by kissing him passionately. “No, please. It’s so good. Please. I just can’t move, remember? It’s torture, but beautiful torture.”

He kissed you and eased you fully onto your back, his finger still inside you. “You were still doing as I told you?” He marveled at you. “What a good girl you are. Those tears were for me? Fuck.” He pressed further into you and you arched your back at the pressure. “Can you take another finger? I think you can. You’re really wet.” A second finger joined the first and he stilled them inside you waiting for you to adjust, kissing down your neck to your breasts.

“More, Billy baby,” you said, your body shaking again, hands carding through his curls at his mouth made its way down the valley between your breasts. Sighing at his movement, his fingers curled inside you, pulling at the coil of heat in your belly, your hips undulated, reacting without your permission, his thumb deliberately sending heat boiling through your veins.

His head came up. “Naughty,” he warned. You huffed a nervous laugh and pressed your ass to the mattress, willing your body to be still for him.

“Sorry, Billy,” you said. “W-won’t do it again. Please don’t stop. Please. Love this.” You never suspected he would be so willing to take charge, or that he would be just a little good at it. It was hot.

His brown eyes were already dark but they blew wider at your words. A feral look came upon him and he whispered: “Promise?”

“Promise.”

He smiled at you and his mouth was on your clit in a moment, tongue teasing, flicking, and pulling your next orgasm out of your body. You cried out, aching to move against him, begging him to cum. “Billy please. Please let me cum. Please- God! Fuck!”

He met your pleas with a grunt, then said: “So wet. So fucking delicious. Cum, petal. Come on. Cum for me. All over my hand.”

And you did. You let go with a scream of his name and a string of epithets. Billy sucked your clit through it all, his fingers and mouth finally scratching that proverbial itch that you had needed him to scratch for the better part of the last hour. You pulled his hair gently as you panted, needing to taste yourself on his mouth. He complied happily, humming into your mouth as he withdrew his fingers from your cunt. He fed them to you. They were glistening with your slick. He withdrew them slowly, his eyes devouring the sight.

“Can I put my cock in you? I’m really quite hard, love. All your fault, I’m afraid,” he laughed shyly.

And you would have loved nothing more, but your fatigue was through the roof. You were incredibly spent. “Don’t really have anything left for you, Billy, honey,” you said. “I’m sorry.”

“Oh but you don’t have to do a thing,” he said. “Here, let me just…” He rolled you back over to your side, your knee back on his thigh. You could hear him pulling his cock out, hissing with the sensitivity of it. For as long as he had been finger-fucking you, he had to have been hard for a long time. His self-restraint was remarkable.

The tip of his cock felt delicious against your opening and you closed your eyes. His breathy whisper was in your ear, “This is all I want. Just to rest here inside you.” His head entered you with that distinctive pressure-and-release followed by his shaft. The dizzying feel of him inside you, throbbing there, resting along your walls, filling you was everything you wanted. How did he know? You didn’t even know that this was something you wanted. “Just like this… Just this much… So warm. So beautiful and warm.”

He was as good as his word, his cock hardly moving inside you. Just small little adjustments that caused his breath to catch. You moaned when he did, sleep winning the fight between itself and your body getting fucked properly. You drifted off to sleep with him inside you, feeling satisfied and full and grateful for the man who held you and nuzzled his nose into your neck, kissing the skin there softly and loving you with his whole heart.

You may have been struggling in the darkness all day long, but Billy was your Hope, your candle against the evils of the world, real and imagined. And as long as you were together, neither one of you would struggle in the darkness alone.

************************************

Tagged readers: @chaoticgood-munson ; @h-ness1944

#fanfic #writing #fandom #joseph quinn #joe quinn #billy knight smut #billy knight x y/n #billy knight #billy knight strike #billy knight x reader #cb strike #ao3 fanfic #ao3 #ao3 author

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matenrou-fan · 1 year

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hello there! i was wondering if i could have some hcs of ichiro and sasara with a s/o thats touch starved but also afraid of physical contact because of trauma? you dont have to do this request at all if u feel uncomfortable so dont worry! you can also throw in some nsfw if you want, you don’t have to though, im just curious about the outcome. thank you for listening to my stupid little request dhdbcjdbdjd your works always make me smile and i hope that it brings you joy too ^^

Ichiro, Sasara with GN!s/o who's touch starved

ahh thank you..!! Glad to know my works brings some warmth in your heart! <3

GNreader, comfort, just wholesome stuff;;

-Well, along with his behavior of a gold retriever boyfriend, Ichiro is also quite touchy and clingy, always wanting to hold you closer in his pretty strong but such soft arms.

-So it hurts him to know that his actions, full of love, can be uncomfortable. Even understanding that it's not his fault, your boyfriend can't help and feels guilty about this, trying to control himself and warn you before every hug, kiss, or even hand holding.

-"Um.. S/o..? How are you feeling..?" - sometimes it's more embarrassing to ask for some touch than actually perform this little act of affection. - "Would you, y-you know.. mind if I kiss you..?"

-Every time he looks at you, Ichiro can't help but feel an urge to protect. Cause.. Just who decided to hurt such a precious girl? Now, when you're dating him, there's no way he would let such traumatic events repeat in your life.

-And of course he's willing to help you overcome this, especially due to your touch starved behavior. You're sure want to cuddle with him no less than he wants with you, and Ichiro's here to find a way to reduce your symptoms.

-Everybody in Ikebukuro knows Ichiro as a good worker, but sometimes all people ask is just for advice or support, so he knows how to cheer someone up. If he can't warm your body with his hands he would warm your heart with his words.

-Slowly, Ichiro would insert himself in your life through small action, and you wouldn't notice when suddenly would be the first to lean closer during movie night in his house or touch his hand when streets around you are so crowded.

-And of course he would notice this immediately but never showed it, to not scare this little progress you start to have. Only his smile that gets much wilder than usual betrays him and his fast-beating heart.

-Another clingy man.

-For some reason I can feel that he himself is also quite touch-starved, especially due to his hard childhood.

-Not having that much attention from his parents, Sasara can understand how you want to lean closer and push him away at the same time. It's probably one of rarest topics that he discusses only in a serious tone.

-"Hey, s/o, look at me, please.." - when he refers to you in such a soft tone, it's always so surprising yet pleasant.. Almost like a soft tickle. - "Yes, like this.. When you look at me with such a cute face, it feels like I'm already hugging you. Would it be enough for now?"

-Sasara's completely aware of how annoying he can be sometimes, but he wants you to feel only positive emotions from his actions. So it's time to learn how to control his clinginess and help you with this trauma concurrently.

-So.. maybe you can practice something like touch from a distance? When your boyfriend lends you his jacket that he just wore, you can almost consider it like a hug, as his warmth and scent are now around you.

-Master of jokes, he knows how to use his words not only to excite, but to soothe and calm down too. And if you want to talk about this, your boyfriend is already here, healing these wounds on your soul with his deep speeches.

-But it doesn't mean he would get totally serious. Because it's easier to heal with a smile on your face, and it also can refresh your mind after some long conversation about your problems.

-For Sasara, the ideal plan is to make you forget about this pain. Because when you laugh like that at his terrible jokes, you don't notice how you start leaning on his shoulder or touching his hand.

-Ahh, maybe when you get more calm about this theme, he can make a little teasing pun about this? But right now nothing comes to Sasara's mind as he's too happy to see how you slowly grow closer to him and his attention, ready to help with his urge to be touched as much as he wants to help with yours.

#hypmic x reader #hypmic imagines #hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypmic ichiro #ichiro yamada #ichiro yamada x reader #ichiro x reader #hypnosis mic ichiro #sasara nurude x reader #sasara x reader #sasara nurude #hypmic sasara #hypnosis mic sasara

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a-gal-with-taste · 2 years

Text

Stolen In a Night (Oneshot)

Summary: "It's okay to laugh - it's a little funny." Making a sound that's not quite a scoff, and not quite a laugh, the Kingpin settles back further into his couch seat, and tilts his head just enough that the lights behind the window makes his eyes gleam as he stares up at you. "It's really not. At least, I don't find anything funny about soulmates."

Having long since convinced yourself that the very last thing the Eye of Zaun would have ever wanted was a nobody, a dime-a-dozen, lowlife thief for a soulmate... he surprises you, and you steal something far more precious from him.

Warnings: SFW. Soulmate AU (names/temprature), first-meets, insecurities, thief!Reader, beginning of romance, pining, mutual-possessiveness, some fluff/angst, hurt/comfort, humor, just a long convo between two people also I wrote this back in April/May and forgot it existed until 2 AM this morning, lmao

(Inspired by @chickenparm Jaded)

“... I’m guessing the door’s locked?”

There’s a light hum that immediately puts you on edge, more so than you already are. The two points of burning-red - one from the tip of the cigar in his fingers, the other the infamous Eye itself - shift from where they had both been fixated directly at your attention. You take the moment of reprieve to sag back against the window, fingers once more flexing on the latch you already know is shut, locked, and he takes a slow inhale that leaves the red-point of his cigar flaring.

Once the mouthful of smoke plumes from his mouth, does he speak. It’s not an answer to the question you asked, but a confirmation of another sort, that makes a deep pit of dread fill in the place of panic inside your heart, “You’re my soulmate.”

It’s not a question, and he doesn’t look impressed. By the statement he correctly makes, or the audible way you attempt to jiggle the window latch again - you’re unsure which it could be, or if it’s perhaps both.

You wouldn’t be surprised. You doubt the reigning kingpin of Zaun is pleased to find out his other-half happens to be a thief attempting to rob his establishment, more specifically, his office .

Speaking of which.

“You knew I was coming.” Again, it’s not a question.

“Your associates are not very subtle with their attempts to blend in. They left more than enough smears behind in their attempts at espionage, or whatever they were attempting, to follow a trail.” He rolls a wrist freely in time with his unimpressed eye roll, and you bite the inside of your cheek. The idea of going around, sussing out the job location via smooth talk and conversation-prying, was a bad idea from the start that you vehemently disagreed with.

Naturally, your great reluctance earned-you the 'honor' of being the one to sneak upstairs to the main prize of the job. And the one place you didn't want to be, considering the name currently burning like magma beneath your wrist, matched the name of the owner of this office.

It’s a fire that’s spreading throughout your body, setting every nerve alight and warming your very bones with a heat that is as innate as it is unnatural, at least from your experience.

Soulmates aren't necessarily uncommon, but rare-enough for you to scoff at the idea of such a bond; almost magnetizing, opposing yet equal beings coming together in a perfect balance. The name on your arm, one you’ve kept hidden for years, burns with the pure need for the man that sits at the couch... and in contrast, you can see the slightest tremor at the end of the cigar-point.

Nearly a shiver - and despite scoffing at such dramatics that a rather theatrical God has decided to bestow upon soul-pairs - you take this as proof that as much as you burn with the need for him, there’s a definitive lack of warmth that can only be revived from your presence, specifically, your touch.

Made more-extreme by the shortened proximity between you, you had hoped the rising-temperature within your body had simply been a byproduct of nerves and the shot-of-courage you had taken before hauling yourself up to the second-story window.

Or at the very least, if he was here, the telling sign of your body flaring up with heat was only because he was downstairs, and not literally in the room you were slipping into, pressing the window mutely-shut behind you as you scanned the darkened room for what valuable to grab first...

Of course, your hopes evaporated when the name on your became a living-source of fire, and a frantic push on an unmoving window, killed any remaining wish to keep you and your soulmate separated.

Destiny, it seemed, was a cold-hearted bitch. Potentially as cold as Silco was feeling, if the tremors going through his body seemed to be any indication.

Both of you knew it would continue to grow stronger while being so-near, ceasing only upon first-physical contact with your other - but neither of you closed the gap. You, for far more obvious reasons, but Silco’s were largely left up to interpretation, until he continued with a cool-tone, “The trail they left behind was muddled. They do not seem as if they are the wisest at planning.”

“They get the job done.” Your attempt at a defense was weak, and Silco was already waving a hand dismissively before you even finished the quiet, unconfident sentence.

“Regardless of their skills, or lack thereof, they gave enough of a trail that led me to the mention, the briefest passing of your name.” A beat, then, balancing the tip of his cigar through a small chip between his two front teeth, the Eye of Zaun reaches to hook a finger on a gold-embroidered cuff.

For a moment, you wonder if maybe it could all be a mistake. Maybe another’s name, similar but not your own, lies on his skin. You might even hope for it...

But then Silco pulls his sleeve up, just a little past a muscle-lined forearm, and presents his wrist towards you. It’s adorned, in a perfect imitation of your own scrawl, with your name and you can only sigh in quiet, heavy acceptance, before Silco plucks the cigar from his mouth with a now-free hand. “That’s you, I believe?”

You stare at it, and blink once in hopes that it’ll change before your eyes. It doesn’t. “Yes.”

“Wonderful. Now would you care to explain to me, why it never occurred to you to come to me when my name appeared on your own wrist.”

Perhaps there’s some sort of byproduct of divine-driven companionship which makes one incapable of lying, because the only thing you say in his response to his calm, firm demand for answers is, “Well... you’re my soulmate.”

Even the smoke itself seems to still be at your words.

More specifically, the fact that you said them in a negative connotation - a bit flat, and almost an accusation.

Silco exhales a moment too-long later, and thin, gray tendrils pool from his nostrils before long fingers reach up, capturing the length of the half-finished smoke. They're trembling, while his voice remains steady, “And what, exactly does that mean?”

...Was he serious?

“It... You're Silco . Eye of Zaun, Ruler of the Undercity, Chem-King of Shimmer-"

"I am well-aware of who I am. Just as I've learned who you are." For a moment, it's as if the roles are reversed. Despite a shiver-trembling body, Silco leans back and fixes you with a heated glare of annoyance that would put you on the verge of sweating, if the name on your wrist wasn't halfway there... Then Silco says your name, slowly, thoughtfully, and in a way that suggests he's been memorizing it for a long, long time now.

"Common-thief, born of the Sumps. Biggest hit was a thrift-shop bordering the Promenade, and the entirety of a thriving food stall in your teenage years - the largest-factor for such a feat would be starvation, if I were to hazard a guess..."

"Well, that's not a exactly rare thing down in the Slums, y'know-"

"I'm also learning quickly you have a knack for sarcasm," He adds flatly. "You, wisely, avoid altercations, be it petty-disputes or gang-related. Stick to the shadows, rarely boast about your efforts, and never attempt to take more than what could last you a week." Pausing, Silco raises the heel to grind the half-finished cigar into the heel of his boot, perhaps with a bit more viciousness than necessary... "You could disappear, and the loss would amount to nothing."

Harsh, but he was right. And it wasn't like you didn't know this - few born in the Sumps got out of them, the highest aspiration one could hope-for from such miserable-beginnings would be some second-hand worker at some miscellaneous stall along the Lanes, or muscle for unsavory back-alley operations. Not exactly jobs suited for you, and you weren’t born with a sense of ambition in the first place.

Living day-by-day wasn’t a rarity - in fact, it was a commonly accepted way of life in the Underground, so you couldn’t understand the fuming glare in the mismatched eyes of your apparent soulmate... except, for the one reason you had convinced yourself of, from the moment your wrist had burned in the five-letters of his name, on why Silco would be so furious on having you.

“Trust me, I’m not banking on any rags-to-riches from you,” You said, scoffing, but that glint in his eyes only grows, and hardens. “ I get it, okay? Lowest of the low, with the man-on-top, a Baron stuck with a sump scraper for a soulmate... I’m not one for public image, but even I know it wouldn’t make a pretty picture.”

“Do you really think I would deny you, based on potential rumors that would circulate?”

You laugh. Half out of hysteria at a job gone horribly-wrong, and at the fact that this man has the gall to look offended at the thought, when he had to have been thinking the exact same thing. It’s ridiculous to think Silco didn’t think this through, because even on the streets, everyone knew the Eye of Zaun had the mind of a man possessed, and gifted with the ability of controlling. Controlling all aspects of Zaun, the untamable of all cities in Runeterra, and having complete control over his own life as well.

You had lived the first few weeks post-soulmarking in grim anticipation. Waiting for the inevitable, be it in the form of a quiet collection in the night, or an even quieter disposal of an unwanted weakness to the Eye of Zaun, that no one, particularly him, would miss.

Just as he said. You could disappear, and the loss would amount to nothing , and you had known for a long time that in Silco’s eyes, you had to have amounted to just as much.

It didn’t matter if the nightly, daily loneliness got so bad that it physically ached . It didn’t matter if there was a desperate flame inside of you, burning with the need, the requirement of a soul-linked touch to cool that fire inside.

It didn’t matter if, from even as a small child with nothing to their name, scared, angry and dreadfully alone , to the moment right now, that you wanted your soulmate more than anything in the world.

It didn’t matter if you needed him.

What mattered, is that you knew he didn’t need you. Not as a liability, a weakness, after today certainly not an attempted-thief, and most definitely not as a soulmate. It was easier to laugh at the absurdity of it all, than to give into that crushing burning within your chest.

"It's okay to laugh - it's a little funny." Making a sound that's not quite a scoff, and not quite a laugh, Silco settles back further into his couch seat, and tilts his head just enough that the lights behind the window makes his eyes gleam as he stares up at you. "It's really not. At least, I don't find anything funny about soulmates."

“Well... i’m sure you expected something a little less ridiculous,” You said after a swallow, sobering back up quickly when you recalled who this was, again. “But, regardless. I know better than to expect anything, and I'm certainly not looking for anything, not from you.” Plans for Bilgewater had always been your backpocket escape-route if you became any-less of an unknown. All you needed was one more score - a solo one, not one that put you less than five feet away from the very Eye you were trying to avoid. “I can manage. I can survive without you. It doesn’t matter to you, but if there’s any consolation, you can live with knowing I'll be fine.”

Your soulmate is silent for a very, very long moment. “...Is that what you want?” There’s a tense muscle in his jawline, the angle twitching lightly as he struggles not to grind his teeth. “You want to be without a soulmate in your life, is that what you’re telling me?”

You open your mouth to confirm, to make it clear and abundantly so... and find words left stuck on your tongue. The yes Silco is looking for goes unsaid, and the pause lasts too long for any form of agreement, verbal or otherwise to hold any actual weight now.

Silco’s eye narrows, and despite the visible chill in his body, his eye blazes .

“Fuck, I mean, yes -”

“You’re a dreadful liar.”

“No, I... I just-”

Silco braces an arm on the couch-arm, and makes to stand up. You press closer to the window, in which the cool green glass does amazing for your burning body, but very little for your racing heart. If he had any scathing remarks in regards to your immediate fight, mostly flight response, Silco says nothing of it.

In fact, he says nothing at all. All the Eye of Zaun does, is shift his body over to the side of the couch, propping an elbow onto the rest, and hand gesturing vaguely to the open space beside him.

An invitation that you do not take. Even though there’s more than enough space to hold you both, with a good foot in-between... and even if it looks very, very comfortable. Surely more expensive than any surface you’ve slept on, let alone sat at...

“Don’t hurt yourself by overthinking. You can walk out to join your little team, or you can sit. It’s hardly a decision worth earning a headache over.”

A moment passes, and you swear the short breath he lets out comes in a cold little cloud, when you push off of the window and step over.

Silco makes no reach for you, even as you all but collapse in barely-restrained pants at the pure magma that flows through your veins, and the shivers tremor through his entire muscle system as the space between you goes from feet, to mere inches. But still, he doesn’t reach out to you, and you make no moves to him. Curling up opposite of him, you bring your knees to your chest and hug them tight, never once looking away from him.

Like all things, he mirrors you just the same. Eyes scanning over you - he’s already memorized you, but from what you can tell, Silco seems to look at you now without the intent of cataloging, committing every detail, contour and angle to memory. He looks at you like... he likes to, and wants to look at his soulmate.

There’s a minute shift on his lips, as if he realizes that your reasons for staring are no different than his own. But otherwise, Silco’s expression and voice remain cool, “I fear as though several... misconceptions have been allowed to fester. Many branching from certain assumptions I sense you’ve concocted-”

“With good reason, believe it or not. I know who you are,”

“And so you know everything about me, then?”

“Like you know all about me?”

The challenge goes unanswered except from a prolonged eye roll, perhaps because Silco knew if he indulged in it, the two of you would be circling for hours. Whatever he wanted, however he wanted it to end, it was clear you had few options in it, just as it was clear Silco wanted it over and done with before he froze to death from the inside-out, “I don’t. Admittedly, and unfortunately, I don't, and it seems like you don’t want me to...”

“Because... you’re you .” He raises a brow, again seeking clarification, and you tighten your arms around yourself, to the point that nails bite through your jeans. “I... you don’t want me, you could have anyone. Anything, really, and you got stuck with someone who has had to fight and claw for every scrap in their life,” You turn to glare over the top of your knees as you hear a faint scoff escape him, reaching up to wipe across your sweating brow with a scowl. “Let’s not kid ourselves here and say you actually want me. You literally have a million other options, and I'm... just a Sumper. A nobody. I’m a thief, and while you have the world, I can only take what’s in my reach.”

“...You’re correct,” He says after a slow moment, and you close your eyes, trying to convince yourself that the twisting inside your chest is a form of relief . “I have a million options. And I only have one soulmate, one other-half, as it were... Perhaps we’re more alike than you think. I have many options, yet I only want to take what’s in my reach.”

The repeat of your own words - and the implication, too hopeful for you to ignore - causes you to turn toward him, just in time to see his hand halt mid-air. It’s hovering, the closest point of contact you have ever had with your soulmate... And indeed, you can’t tell if the sight causes your throat to parch, or if it’s the divine ‘gift’ of fire burning though your very soul.

He makes no other reach for you - again, it’s an invitation you can take or leave. And there’s no imploring in his gaze, no other emotion that’s an attempt to sway you.

Just a hand, held out to you so openly, and so readily... that for a moment, you wonder if he’s been waiting just as long as you. Just as lonely as you. It was already clear that he was a man half-frozen without you, but did he burn just as much for his other half?

When you shift, just enough, and see a flash of pure need cross his gaze when you move just one increment closer, you start to think the answer is yes, he has.

The thought makes you move even closer, and also speak even more freely, “I don’t... I’m not looking for anything you can’t give-”

“You’ll find I'm only looking for one thing. You can give it freely, or you can leave,” His fingers twitch - the one tell that Silco will allow, the one physical act that shows it’s taking every ounce of his self-control to allow this to be your decision. Whatever you decide, he was willing to honor it, despite his own, long-held desires. “I’m admittedly a selfish man, and I think you’ve well proven you’re much the same. But know that there’s no others, none I have had, and none that I have ever wanted, other than you.”

“Then... why didn’t you? If you wanted me so much, why didn’t you come for me?”

“I’m as much Zaunite as you,” He says, raising a brow at your surprised blink. “I know just as well how a thief takes to the shadows, and how long one can survive there. The moment I had your name, I knew how far-simpler, sooner it would be to let you find your own way.”

“Like you hoped?”

“Like I wished. But... Ultimately, the choice is yours.”

Your hesitance was clear, enough to stop his hand in place. It truly felt like you were burning alive, the very flames flickering within your very bones, and you swear that his jaw tightened, not in annoyance of your continued search of assurance, but to keep his teeth from chattering at the glacial-temperature he no doubt felt in his veins.

Still, despite fire and ice threatening to engulf you and him respectfully, you glance at Silco's hand and manage to croak out, "And... you mean it? You won't....” You can’t bring yourself to ask, that tiny, lingering speck of doubt inside you is still loud enough that you fear it could consume you, if Silco so much as hesitates at your questions:

You want me?

You’ll keep me?

You won’t leave me?

The hand doesn't waver from where it's aloft in the space near your face. And his expression, patient and closed, save for that yearning, gleaming in his eye, remains the same as well... the only thing new is the small smile that quirks onto Silco's lips. Truly a small, quiet thing, but honest; just like his words are, that fill you with a warmth that doesn't burn like that of your mark, but radiates.

"Darling, I am never letting you go."

And when he closes the distance, two absolutely heavenly cold-palms cupping up your face and bringing relief upon relief to your entire being and soul, you can’t help the laugh that escapes you as, for the first time since entering, your body isn’t reaching damn-near melting points, being so close to what you burn with desire for...

You broke in here with the intent of spiriting away with riches. Golds or documents, coin or other priceless items to make off with a weeks-pay.

You don’t know, quite yet, what you got instead by breaking.

All you know, is that you aren’t spiriting away with riches, but as the gap closes, and the fire inside you meets with his ice, you realize that you’ve stolen something far-precious from Silco, and you know you share his sentiment, now that he has you, and you, him:

You’re never letting him go.

#silco #arcane #arcane silco #silco x reader #gender neutral reader #soulmates #oneshot #soulmate au #this has been in my drafts for 4-5 months LMAO #hope it isnt TOO rusty!#writing #ao3

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