#Also I bought a new helmet | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

delulujuls · 2 months

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i'd give you the whole world if i only knew its price | ls18

am i a lance's girlie? no. am i becoming a lance's girlie? dont look at me

he seems so sweet idk why people hate on him

summary: lance's love language is giving gifts and when it came to giving something in return he'll accept only one way

warnings: none

pairing: fem!bffreader x lance stroll

The little girl sat on the curb, tears streaming down her rosy, tear-stained cheeks. In her tiny hands, she held her shattered helmet, unfit for further use. The girl wasn't crying because her father had scolded her for accidentally damaging the helmet. Instead, it was because, until she could find a replacement, she wouldn't be able to race with the other kids. That is, if there were any funds available for a new one.

Seeing the seven-year-old in tears, a slightly older boy, aware of the reason behind her distress, approached her with his newly purchased helmet in hand, crouching down in front of her.

"Here, you can have mine."

The girl stopped sobbing as he sat beside her, handing her the helmet, which she hesitantly accepted.

"I can't take it, my dad doesn't have any money left."

"You can take it, I always have two helmets with me."

The boy smiled at her, but uncertainty still lingered on her face. He glanced toward his father, who stood under one of the tents, observing the children a few meters away. Seeing the tearful face of the girl and the joyful expression on his son's face, he also smiled slightly and nodded.

"See?" he said, squeezing her hands that held the helmet. "My dad agreed. You can take it as a gift."

"Really?"

While her face was still wet from tears, her eyes no longer radiated sadness. Looking into the brown eyes of the boy, he nodded and he stood up, extending his hand.

"By the way, I'm Lance. Now, come on, it's about to start!"

"Please, Y/N, don't be like that."

The boy slumped onto the hotel bed, closely watching the girl's face on his phone screen.

"I'm sorry, Lance, but I can't."

She replied, her phone propped up against a coffee mug, engrossed in browsing job listings on her laptop.

"Why can't you just take it as a gift?"

Y/N scoffed and shook her head.

"Every month you give me some gift, Lance. Last month, as a 'gift,' you bought me a Birkin bag, and I don't even want to know how much it cost."

"You said your bag was falling apart, I wanted to make you happy."

She sighed and shifted her gaze to her phone. Lance looked at her attentively with his puppy eyes, visibly concerned. He wasn't seeing any problem here.

"The bag is gorgeous, and you have no idea how much joy you brought me," she said with grattitude in her voice. "But even a simple Target bag would make me happy, you know?"

"Yeah, probably. But this one is okay too, right?"

She laughed and shook her head.

"It's beautiful. Thank you very much."

Hearing her words, Lance breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing her smile, he did the same.

"So, if you want to repay me, let me fly you to Bahrain."

She lowered her gaze, and the smile faded from her face. Barely scraping by on bills and struggling to find a new job, spending her remaining money on plane tickets was the last thing on her mind. Even if, it could cover just one ticket.

"I can't afford to visit you, Lance."

"That's why let me take care of it. We haven't seen each other for so long, and I want to finally see you and start this season together," he said, looking at her worried face. Money meant nothing to him; he could send a private jet to pick her up, just to have her with him. "Please, Y/N."

She sighed and shook her head.

"I feel so embarrassed. I'll never be able to repay you for all of this."

"So, is it a yes? Can I book the tickets?"

He asked, hope in his voice, and a smile slowly crept back onto his face.

"Fine, but no more gifts this month, okay?"

"I'll try to meet that condition."

Lance and Y/N had been friends since the day he noticed her crying next to the carting track, holding her damaged helmet. They remained friends through all the years of go-karting, and their friendship persisted even when Y/N had to give up racing due to financial reasons.

At first, though she shudders at the thought even now, she hated Lance with every fiber of her being. It wasn't him she despised, but the obscene amounts of money his father had, providing him with everything he could dream of. Y/N was aware that Lance had both many fans and critics, so every time she came across unfavorable comments about him online, she felt embarrassed. After all, she used to cry and curse him every night, even though deep down, she didn't hate him; she just disliked the situation he was in, which she was not allowed to have.

Lance himself knew that without money, he would never have entered the serious world of motorsport. Numerous training sessions, expensive lessons, academy tests – Lance knew that money secured his current position, but talent couldn't be bought. He knew he could drive, and even the people who hated him online knew it too, disliking him simply because he succeeded. Being in Formula 1 cost the Canadian a lot, as he constantly felt like he didn't belong there. Even in the paddock, despite rarely facing personal comments, he knew many saw him as the boy with his daddy's big money. Lance often felt lonely, so he deeply appreciated every moment he could spend with Y/N. No one was as important to him as she was.

However, Y/N focused on being an ordinary teenager after giving up her motorsport career. She finished high school, got into college, even found a job and rented an apartment. Although her life didn't unfold exactly as she wanted, she stayed connected to motorsport through Lance, whom she supported as much as she could. Now things were getting complicated again as the season was about to begin, meaning she could only cheer for him from her couch. But for Lance, there were no such limitations. If he could solve a problem with money, he would. Furthermore, Lance found immense joy in showering Y/N with various gifts. Giving her presents was his love language, something that Y/N had no clue about.

"There she is."

Lance smiled at the sight of his friend, who stepped out of the taxi in front of one of the Bahrain hotels. She returned the smile, hugging him.

"I was talking about the bag, but it's nice to see you too," he teased, pointing to the Birkin she was holding, prompting her to playfully nudge him. Lance chuckled and embraced her, taking her suitcase and leading her inside the hotel.

"I hope the flight was okay and you're full of energy because we're going to a team dinner tonight."

"So, basically your dad is inviting us to dinner?"

She asked jokingly, looking at him as they entered the elevator.

"Technically, yes, my dad is inviting us to dinner."

Y/N laughed, "Well, Lawrence Stroll can't be refused."

Shortly afterward, they were on the right floor where both of them had their rooms. Lance handed her the key card and when she entered her room, she noticed a bouquet of roses and a small package on the bed.

"Lance..."

Turning around, she saw him biting his lip, trying to hide his smile.

"Yes, yes, I know, we had a deal. But these roses were practically free and the little gift next to it is, let's say, a shared one."

He explained, putting aside her suitcase. She also placed her bag down and approached the bed, picking up the bouquet of white roses. She smelled one and smiled, feeling their pleasant fragrance. Lance smiled too.

"You're impossible, you know that?"

"Open the gift."

He encouraged her, leaning against the wall.

She smelled the flowers once more and put them aside, taking the small package wrapped in black ribbon. As she untied it and unwrapped the light-colored paper, she discovered the familiar shade of green. It was a long, satin dress with thin straps, in the characteristic color of Aston Martin. She smiled to herself.

"I guess this is for tonight's dinner?"

Lance nodded, "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful," she ran her fingers over the fabric, "I hope you have a shirt in the same color."

He chuckled.

"Don't worry, I won't disappoint you."

Indeed, at the agreed-upon time, Lance showed up at her door, wearing a shirt in the same color, black jeans, and matching shoes. He smiled at the sight of his friend, who opened the door ready to go.

"You look gorgeous. The color suits you."

Y/N laughed and closed the door behind her.

"That's good because otherwise, I would have to wear the white dress I brought with me, and someone might think I'm supporting Haas."

Lance laughed at her words, pleased to spend these few days with his friend. Honestly, he only stopped feeling lonely when she was around or when they had the chance to talk on FaceTime. Of course, it wasn't the same as having her physically by his side.

The evening passed in a pleasant atmosphere and time flowed effortlessly. Lawrence invited everyone who had arrived with Aston Martin to Bahrain, so instead of reserving a specific number of tables, Lance's father rented the entire restaurant for the evening.

Celebrating the team's excellent work during the winter months, the tables were adorned with champagne and white wine. Y/N had forgotten how weak her head could be, so after two glasses of wine during dinner, a slight buzz started to occupy her mind. Apologizing to Lance under the pretext of going to the bathroom, she stepped outside, sitting on the balcony. Despite being February, Bahrain offered pleasant temperatures, and even after the dark, a warm breeze caressed her exposed arms.

"Here you are."

The girl jumped, hearing his voice.

"You weren't around for half an hour, and I had the waitress check if something happened to you in the bathroom."

"I needed some fresh air."

Y/N replied, smiling at him. She noticed Lance's steps were a bit unsteady and a blush adorned his cheeks. When he sat next to her, she giggled.

"I can't believe we got tipsy."

Lance chuckled and rubbed his face with his hands.

"I won't lie, I'm feeling a bit dizzy."

Still giggling, the girl rested her head on his shoulder. Lance wrapped his arm around her waist and rested his cheek on her head.

"I'm glad you came."

"I'm glad you invited me."

"I'd give you the whole world if I only knew its price."

Hearing his words, Y/N raised her head and looked at his face. His brown, gentle eyes gazed at her affectionately and a faint smile played on the corners of his lips. Lance tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, gently caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"I hate that I can't give you anything in return."

Lance smiled, "Actually, there's something you could give me in return."

The girl raised her eyebrows inquisitively.

"You could be my girlfriend."

Y/N blinked several times, unsure if her slightly intoxicated mind was playing tricks on her or if she understood Lance correctly.

"Do you want me to be your girlfriend?"

"Oh, God, you have no idea how much."

The girl smiled and, without saying a word, cupped his cheeks in her hands and kissed him. Lance hugged her even tighter, returning the kiss, feeling a burst of fireworks in his stomach. He could bring her joy with money, and she could do it in just one way.

"I love you, Lance."

With love.

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #ls18 #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll x you #lance stroll #aston martin #aston martin f1

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vln-vibes · 1 year

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The Good Ol’ Switcheroo

GUYS

I know there’s fics out there with switcheroo hijinks with Tim and Danny but imagine this---

Jazz and Babs

and

Danny and Tim

But like at the same time

So the Fentons are visiting Gotham, the reason why is a bit up in the air;

Jazz wants to visit the Gotham U campus, the Fentons have a meeting with W.E for a business deal (they’re sus about the whole ghost hunting thing but it doesn’t hurt to scope out what they’re capable of) or maybe they’re hunting down Batman because they’re sure he’s a ghost. Reader’s choice tbh.

Unfortunately Jazz sprained her ankle the week before while ghost hunting with Team Fenton. This also led to her parents coddling her and she just barely managed to convince them to still go on their trip as a way to get Danny a vacation. The only caveat; they force her on a wheelchair for the duration of the trip.

Spring forward to a random Thursday afternoon during their vacation; Danny and Jazz were dying of embarrassment (in his case re-dying) with their parents antics. They didn’t think Gothamites would blatantly stare at them all things considered but even they had their standards they guess.

Danny bought himself some sunglasses and a coffee while Jazz just put on her reading glasses and just tried to bury herself in her new Spoiler themed sweater.

Of course that’s when the chaos started.

It was just their luck that just as they finally got away from their parents that a rogue finally attacked; where there was a rogue the Batman wouldn’t be too far behind.

Danny’s plan was just to hide in a random alleyway or wait until the coast was clear to use his powers and fly them back to their hotel room and wait for everything to die (hah) back down. That’s not what ended up happening.

“There you guys are, c’mon time to suit up”

The duo are too stunned to do anything as they’re dragged off by this random rich guy (Bruce Wayne) and into a really expensive and familiar looking car (the Batmobile). The door folds open and Jazz’s wheelchair is fastened in seconds, Danny just kinda goes to sit next to her (can’t let his sister be kidnapped by herself).

There’s a guy sitting shotgun next to the original alley guy. He’s wearing a mask. Oh shit its Nightwing.

“Looks like Freeze is at it again, Uptown’s already halfway covered in ice. No time to waste Red Robin”

Red Robin? Like the food chain??

In those few seconds the Batmobile is speeding off, the alley guy is now the Batman and they’re passing a speeding RV going the other way. Cue that one Umbrella Academy meme but its Tim and Babs staring back at Danny and Jazz.

A compartment opens up revealing Red Robin’s suit with the cowl.

‘Why the hell not? It’s not like it’ll kill me’ is all Danny thinks while he puts on the outfit, ditching the cowl tho because it looks ugly and instead grabs one of ‘Robin’s’ extra masks that were next to it. He took a selfie and sent it to Sam and Tucker, one also featuring a Done looking Jazz.

“You got that RR?”

“Hn yeah sure”

It isn’t until halfway through their fight with Mr.Freeze, not even noticing how the usually chilly Tim doesn’t look the slightest bit cold, when they meet up with Black Bat that any of them are clued in to what happened.

“Not Red Robin. New brother?”

“What are you talking about Cass, he’s right there?”

Cue to Danny using Tim’s bo staff to propel himself and air kick Mr.Freeze’s helmet.

“Ice to meet you frosty!”

“Yeah no. Our parents may be nuts but we’re not open for adoption” Jazz quips from the comms, strangely not too different from the system Tucker uses when they out hunting for ghosts.

“Wait I thought you were just recovering from the cold!?”

“Twisted ankle actually. On your five!”

Meanwhile Jack and Maddie got a ecto signature at the other side of town. They spotted Danny and Jazz leaving the library, grabbed them (not noticing the yelling crowds running the other way).

They let the GAV fasten the kids in before speeding off to catch the ghost.

In his defense Tim was working on one hour of sleep in the last 48 hours and Bab’s lost her voice from her cold. In all the ensuing chaos Babs dropped her phone and Tim’s just ran out of juice.

They’d thought it was a Standard Wayne and Co Kidnapping until the duo in hazmat suits kept referring to them as Jazz and Dann-o. Hopefully not insane and trying to fake being a family. Hopefully

They take a turn into Crime Alley and the duo look at each other as they see the GPS head towards one of Red Hood’s places.

This would be good

#DP x DC #DC x DP #dp x dc crossover #Danny Phantom AU #Danny Phantom crossover #DC AU #DC Crossover #Barbara Gordon & Jasmine Fenton #Danny Fenton & Tim Drake #Accidental identity reveal #What do you mean we got the wrong kids???#Ooops these regular civies know how to fight???#Wait what do you mean he has black hair and blue eyes?!#Oh no

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thepascalofus · 9 months

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Supply Run - Receipt (part one)

AO3

PART TWO

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x afab!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: You’ve been Mando’s crew partner for a year now. Throughout that year Mando has warmed up to you and given you signs that your heart throbbing crush on him is reciprocated. There’s one thing making you hesitate. The condoms he bought on the most recent supply run.

Content Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only! Post season 2, the Crest lives, strangers to friends to lovers, soft!Mando, helmet loopholes, pining, idiots in love, jealous!reader, mentions of sex work (sex work is work!), eventual SMUT (making out, grinding, f!receiving fingering, f!receiving oral sex, p in v, PRAISE kink, dirty talk), FLUFF, cuddling, happy ending guaranteed!

The ramp of the Crest lowered, revealing the bright sun and arid atmosphere of the random planet Mando chose for a pitstop. In the distance were jagged mountains, the colors of orange, red, and brown coming together to paint streaks across the rocky range. Sparse populations of trees littered the distant landscape. Large–but tiny from a distance–birds flew from tree top to tree top, wings fanned outwards to catch the air currents beneath their wings.

To your left was Mando. His silver beskar armor glinted in the light as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. Broad shoulders blocked a sizable proportion of your peripheral vision. Observing the new planet, he stood like a statue.

Tall. Solid. Strong. Capable. Protective.

Biting your lip, your gaze traveled up and down Mando, head to toe. He certainly had an idea of how intimidating he looked. Yet, he had no idea how that intimidation made him look so good.

People always snuck glances at you and Mando when the pair of you were in public. Whispers could be picked up on as well. Rumors about his Creed. The state of the planet of Mandalore. How dangerous Mando was.

The danger he possessed only made your feelings for him deepen. You knew what he was capable of, but you also knew he would never use his capabilities on you. Not that you didn’t want him to…

Maybe he could lift you up. Carry you across the hull. Place you on the bed in his bunk. His large, gloveless hands smoothing up and down your sides.

Mando could pin both of your hands above your head while he–.

Ok. Stop. That’s enough.

You cleared your throat, hoping to snap Mando out of his observational state, and you out of yours. “Alright, so we need five things: bacta, medkits, rations, a new flight suit, andddd soap?” You listed as you turned to him. Feet shifting, he turned his helmet to look at you. Shoulders that donned beskar pauldrons followed suit. The classic Mandalorian T shape of the visor burned into your pupils.

He paused, as if he was looking over his own checklist. “That should be it,” he confirmed with a nod. You returned his nod and added a small smile.

“Ok see ya!” You threw over your shoulder as you quickly bounded down the ramp of the Crest.

“Dank farrik, hold on, hold on,” Mando’s modulator gritted out as he clicked a button on his vambrace to close the Crest, running to get caught up to you. He rarely let you stray too far, especially when on new planets like this one. But, the Mandalorian read about the planet–and the quarry on it–before landing.

“This planet is under the jurisdiction of the New Republic, so crime rates are low,” his modulated voice filled your ears once he caught up to you, “You’ll be on your own for this supply run.”

Stopping dead in your tracks, your shoes crunched against the brown substrate underneath them as you turned to face the man, “Really?” You asked, eyebrows shooting towards your hairline.

Mando responded with a hesitant nod. “I have some business to take care of, business that your presence isn’t required for,” the beskar pauldrons lifted and lowered in a shrug, “I figured you would enjoy having free range over the market.”

“Are you sure?” You replied.

He crossed his arms, the muscles in them appearing larger when pressed together. Mando’s helmet cocked to the side and his hip jutted out. The chin of his helmet lifted slightly as it motioned towards the market. “Go before I change my mind.”

Smile spread across your face, you did a hop of excitement in place and continued towards the market.

Trudging along to explore the unfamiliar marketplace, you recalled the previous supply run at a more populated planet.

—

Mando’s finger was perpetually hooked through one of your belt loops as he dragged you from stall to stall with him.

“Mando, I’m not a child,” you told him. Your eyes rolled as he tugged you along, your hips jerking along with the movement of his arm. Sometimes your hands wound up on Mando’s arm to maintain your balance. The muscles underneath your hands hardened and flexed as he maneuvered through the crowd.

“I never said you were,” he stated as his gaze remained focused on the crowd. His eyes constantly scanned the marketplace. Beings of different cultures and origins milled through the alleyway lined with stalls. The crowd of the market was average sized–no hustle and bustle but also no empty stalls. The occasional sound of credits clinking rang throughout the dry air as someone dug into their pocket to pay for their purchase.

You scanned the market just as Mando did, following his metal gaze to try and catch a glimpse at what he was seeing. “Are we in danger?” Your voice dropped to a whisper, uncertain about what’s going on inside that beskar helmet.

Deadpanning you once again, he responded, “Not that I am aware of.” The T-shape constantly spun on an axis, and the grip of his finger tightened on the fabric of your belt loop.

Brows furrowing, you finally turned your head fully towards him, “Then why are you doing all this?” You gestured with one of your hands up and down his body. His hand jerked to tug you along, your hip following in response.

A large inhale and exhale made his beskar-plated chest rise and fall, “I want to make sure yo-,” he paused, then quickly continued, “Just want to make sure we’re safe.” He nods. The one he gives you when he's confirming something you said. Like his approval of the items you listed to get on a supply run.

Which brings you back to now. Receiving that same nod made a series of connections go off in you. For the past week you’ve been thinking about what he said. His finger tugged your hips with him, his verbal slip-up found its way onto the center stage of your thoughts every night cycle on the Crest.

“I want to make sure yo-.”

It felt like a confirmation.

—

You started as an assistant, helping Mando with whatever he needed. Marketplace runs? Check. Bounty information? Check. Small ship repairs? Check. But, calling someone an assistant sounded…weird to Mando. He didn’t enjoy the air of subordinacy the word possessed. The Mandalorian thought back to his days with his fellow Mandalorians. The covert worked as a team, with no hierarchy. Sure, some people were assigned roles, but no one was above anyone else. Everyone was part of one unit.

You worked on a small, galactically insignificant planet at a small-items repair shop. Mando entered one day with a scope for one of his blasters. Impressed with your knowledge and efficiency–the scope being repaired in less than ten minutes–the Mandalorian inquired about the chances of hiring you. “Partner,” he said with a nod, when he offered you the job, “You’ll be my partner.”

You both met at a cantina after your shift. Mando explained job responsibilities, pay, and the lifestyle that the job required. Sitting across from the man covered in beskar was intimidating. But near the end of your conversation you realized he was just soft spoken. He was also all business. Any conversation was focused on logistics of the job. He didn’t ask you weird personal questions. He respected your skills and your opinions. There were definitely worse bosses to have, you figured. Eager to explore the galaxy and leave behind the little planet, you loaded the Crest with your personal belongings the following week.

Living in the Razor Crest with Mando was awkward at first. Mando would keep his interactions with you to a minimum. You noticed that he only left the cockpit when he knew you were occupied, asleep, or off of the ship. If he had to be in the same space as you, he would leave at least a meter of distance between your bodies. Like you were two magnets of the same polarity, refusing to go closer to the other.

All business.

But that didn’t stop you from being friendly. Whenever you did see Mando you would offer him a, “How are you?” Or a, “How was your day?” His responses were consistently short and to the point.

“Fine.”

“Busy.”

“Awful.”

Dinner was when you typically saw him. He would come down to grab a ration pack and scurry back into the cockpit. You also saw him when he returned from hunts, dragging the bounty behind his beskar frame. His grunts echoed throughout the Crest’s hull as he pulled the quarry up and froze him into carbonite. You claimed a small section of the hull as your living quarters, so you had no choice but to watch.

Trying to break the tension, you asked, “How was your day?”

Mando huffed, his broad shoulders covered in beskar lifted and fell, “Nothing you want to hear about,” he deadpanned to you. If he did offer any emotion, it was cut out of his voice by his helmet’s modulator.

“Try me,” you crossed your arms and raised your eyebrows. Leaning back on the cold wall of the hull, your chest thrummed with nervous energy as you waited for his response. Was that too much? Were you just going to push him away?

“Quarry tried to escape and they ran. Would have been back four hours ago,” the modulator gritted out, “Not too fun.” His helmet tilted to the side and he squeezed his hands together that were clasped in front of him.

The Mandalorian’s wide frame took up the majority of the door frame that separates the carbonite room from the hull. Large gloved hands remained clasped together while he shifted in place, eventually settling on leaning against the frame.

You stood still in shock for a couple seconds. If you listened closely you could have heard the hearts beating in the hull. That was the most that Mando has ever said to you at once. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you started.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he brushed past you towards the ladder going up to the cockpit, “It’s my job.”

You turned towards him, which halted his ascent, “That doesn’t mean it sucks any less,” your eyes widened and you tried to backtrack, “sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that your job sucks,” you blurted out in an attempt to save face.

Mando met your gaze with the T of his visor and replied, “My job does suck.”

Did he just try to be funny? A giggle bubbled out from your chest. His silver helmet shook slightly from side to side and he turned back to climb the ladder. But not before he also let out a small chuckle.

His attitude slowly and steadily transformed after that night.

Mando lingered in the hull longer in the mornings and in the evenings. The mornings were when you asked, “What’re the plans for today?” And the evenings came with your, “How was your day?”

At one point he started making you a cup of caf every morning when he was awake first, and he usually was. He knew you favored the drink in the mornings so he began to regularly purchase it, and he built up a sizable stash in the Crest.

His preferred distance from you shrunk and shrunk. The broad Mandalorian opted to stand next to you in the mornings, helping you make breakfast as well as he could. Ever-so-subtle brushes as you passed each other on the Crest became more frequent. Sometimes he would touch a hand to your waist as he passed, or on the small of your back if you weren’t facing him.

The beskar warrior spoke more too. He taught you a few words in Mando’a, which consisted of a couple basic words and some insults.

“Di’kutla,” he spat out as he struggled to repair a part on one of his blasters.

“What’s that one mean?” You asked over your shoulder, looking up from the article you were reading on your Holopad.

Mando huffed in frustration and gritted out, “worthless…stupid,” as he continued to try and force the part off of the blaster.

Chuckling, you repeated the word in your mind and watched as Mando continued to struggle. You stored all of the words he shared with you deep in your brain, not wanting to forget this special part of himself that Mando shared with you.

One of your evening chats came to an end and the broad beskar man was drifting back to this bunk. For the first time, he paused and looked at you. You knew his gaze underneath the helmet met yours. No proof, but you knew.

“Goodnight,” the word gently flowed through his helmet’s modulator.

He’s said it every night he’s been on the ship since then. Sometimes his gaze lingered on yours too long. A couple times you swore you saw the center of his chest rise, as if he was about to say something, but it stopped mid-exhale and Mando retreated into his bunk.

You found yourself to be increasingly longing for the sound of the ramp descending, signaling his return from a hunt. He trudged up the ramp, quarry in tow. Freezing the person in carbonite was always fast. Usually small pleasantries were exchanged before he used the fresher to clean off.

If your mind were to venture towards more perverse thoughts, your favorite part was after he used the fresher.

He always emerged in a pair of black pants, a black t-shirt, and of course, his helmet.

No armor. No gloves. Not even the usual long-sleeved layer underneath his t-shirt.

When he turned to toss his clothes into a small hamper, you swore small tufts of dark brown hair peaked out from beneath his helmet. Nevertheless, a combination of factors had you in awe. Watching as Mando hauled the quarry into carbonite like it was nothing. You saw the toned muscles in his arms, developed from decades of finely tuned combat. The broad expanse of his back, rippling underneath his t-shirt. His calloused, capable hands are composed of thick fingers. You were in awe at his physique, his presence, the things he did to provide for the both of you.

And it hit you like a cold, ocean wave just how unafraid of him you were.

As if your fondness towards the Mandalorian couldn’t grow any more, he started returning from supply runs with gifts for you. Although he rarely let you go on runs alone, he did have the decency to give you space during pit stops. You would wander near him while looking at all of the different crafts the stalls had to offer.

One day you were peering at a set of comfortable lounge pants. You managed to whittle your wardrobe down to one set after damaging pair after pair when repairing the Razor Crest. Shoulders slumped, you thought about how comfy the pants would be when sleeping in your makeshift bed on the floor of the Crest. You knew you didn’t have enough credits, so you moved along to purchase the items the pair of you actually needed.

Milling about the market weren’t many people, which was most likely why you were alone on this shopping trip. The brown sands of the marketplace intruded upon the surroundings, leaving dunes of sand curving up and into the stalls. Sun rays blared down from the cloudless sky. Heat already seeped through your airy shirt and throughout your skin, conjuring up a layer of sweat. After visiting four stalls you purchased all of the necessary items.

Bacta. Soap. Rations. Spare parts. You confirmed each purchase on the receipts from the market. A step you always took to make sure nothing was forgotten.

You met Mando back at the Razor Crest and started unloading your bags. Item after item piled on the center of the ship's floor. Rations. Bacta. Medkits. Sweatpants. Ammo. Ra-.

Sweatpants?

The sweatpants were identical to the ones you stopped and looked at while shopping. Your hands reached for the sweatpants and marveled in their softness. Pausing, your gaze lifted to meet Mando’s T-shaped visor. “Did you buy sweatpants?” Confusion oozed from your voice.

His gaze remained on yours and he replied with a slight nod of his head, “Yes. They’re for you.”

“Mando, you didn’t ha-”

“Take it. Please. I feel bad enough making you sleep on the floor,” he insisted. His gloved hand gestured to the sleeping pad, pillow, and blanket neatly stored in a corner of the hull.

“Honestly it hasn’t been that bad. The sleeping pad you got is pretty comfy.” You shrugged and told him the truth. Sleeping on that plush pad was infinitely better than the hull’s cold, metal floor.

“You have to set it up every night. You at least deserve a permanent bed,” his modulator made his words sound like churning gravel.

You stared into the black T covering his face. His shoulders drooped, like he gave up on trying to convince you. The gesture was a silent plea to just accept the gift.

“Thank you,” you said to him softly, “it means a lot.”

It was his turn to shrug, “That’s why I do it.”

—

Today marks a year since the two of you became “partners”.

For you, that marked a year since you’ve met the man you had a heart throbbing crush on.

You knew Mando wasn’t much of the sentimental type. Everything he kept was for a purpose. Any sentimental things had extreme meaning to him. If you were reading the situation correctly, you had a burning suspicion that the beskar covered man liked you back. So suggesting you two get matching bracelets at the market wouldn’t be completely farfetched. Even if he didn’t like you back you could just play it off as a gag gift…right?

After trudging across the brown landscape for twenty minutes, Mando at your tail, you arrived at the market.

“We meet at that stall,” you heard from over your shoulder. Your eyes followed Mando’s finger to a bright red food vendor stall, “in 2 hours. Understood?”

A smile plastered itself onto your face and you gave him a sarcastic salute, “Understood.”

A breathy chuckle passed through Mando’s modulator. He shook his head softly and motioned for you to get a move on. You turned on your heel and walked to your first destination.

—

Bacta? Check. Rations? Check. Soap? Check. Medkits? Check.

The only thing left was a new flight suit for Mando.

As you walked towards the clothing section of the market you stopped at a men’s clothing stall to purchase an extra large black flight suit. Once your transaction was completed you walked further into the alleyway lined with stalls selling dresses, flight gear, loungewear, jewelry, bracelets. Bracelets.

Your eyes landed on a stall with various fabrics on display. The front tables of the vendor were packed with different colored bracelets. Bracelet materials ranged from metal, leather, twine, thick cord, beads, and some materials you’ve never seen before.

The stall became even more enchanting as you got closer. Signs displayed prices, sizes, and ongoing sales. Immediately your eyes landed on a vast array of multicolored bracelets. You were thinking of getting something green since Mando told you that Grogu is green.

A couple months ago he told you about how he had to give Grogu to a Jedi to train, since Grogu could use the force. Your heart sank. Mando often turned the metal knob of the thruster–a silver ball–over and over in his hand. He only told you recently that it was Grogu’s favorite thing to steal from him.

Your eyes danced over the section of green bracelets. Some were too dark, some too vibrant, others were just ugly. Finally, your gaze landed on the bracelet.

A fine, light green thread, you assumed somewhat close to Grogu’s color, was intertwined with thicker silver and brown threads. Light green and silver streaked across the rough brown surface of the bracelet. It reminded you of light streaking across the windshield of the Crest while in hyperspace.

This was the one.

Sifting through the different sizes you picked out one in your size and one you guessed would fit Mando. The bracelets were adjustable and hopefully that would help if you got Mando the wrong size. Setting the bracelets down to sift through your pockets for credits, you looked up at a weathered sign displaying the prices.

PRICES

1 bracelet = 15 credits

2 = 30 credits

3 = 45 credits

4 = 60 credits

As you reached into your pockets and retrieved your last credits you realized you didn’t have enough. Only twenty five credits sat in your palm. Not in the mood to haggle with the vendor about the price, your shoulders dropped and you returned the bracelets to their original places.

You checked your watch. One hour left until you met back up with Mando. Making it from one end of the market to the other took forty five minutes, so you figured you could take the scenic route back to the meet up point. Getting to see the new sights could cheer you up after not being able to afford the gift you wanted to get for Mando.

Walking up on a familiar intersection, you opted to take a right this time instead of a left. The path on the right was much more…interesting…than the path on the left. One vendor sold exotic pets. The next sold potions that promised to give the consumer various effects. The next stall was not a stall, it was a large establishment.

The establishment stood tall amongst the surrounding stalls. Solid brick walls were painted a dull gray. A sign with old, faded letters was centered on the front wall between two windows. The tall windows of the building were heavily tinted. Shadows of different figures danced across the glass. Some bodies were indistinguishable from the ones they were next to. Music blared from inside, but it barely covered the sounds of moans and the slapping of skin on skin.

Looking up, front and center on the building reads: BROTHEL

Brothels weren’t a common occurrence on the supply runs you’ve been on, but you suppose the service was in demand. You shrugged and walked past the gray building. The moving bodies in the windows almost allowed your vision to gloss over him.

Tall. Broad. Covered in beskar. A black T shaped visor gazing down at a man.

At first you froze in shock. Was this the business Mando had to attend to? The one that, “didn’t require your presence”? You never pictured the Mandalorian to be a man that required services like these, but he is a man nonetheless.

A soft breeze sent goosebumps down your arms towards your fingertips. Realizing you’re out in the open, you ducked into an empty market stall. A gap in the wood planks making up the stall’s sides gave you a clear view of Mando’s encounter with the mystery man.

The man was in all black with a silver name tag on his chest. By Mando’s serious demeanor you could tell that the conversation was strictly business. The Mandalorian’s helmet tilted in question at the man and Mando pulled out a pen and pad to write on. From the man’s stance and close position to the building you could tell he was the bouncer, plus the presence of a name tag.

The bouncer pulled out an identical pad and began to speak. You couldn’t hear a word they exchanged, but you could tell Mando was writing down a list. A finger on the bouncer’s hand came up everytime he stated something else from his list. Mando jotted down a few things, closed his pad, and returned it to a pocket in his suit.

Then he reached into a different pocket, pulled out a sizable amount of credits, and handed them to the bouncer.

Did he just buy a night at the brothel?

Your heart dropped to your stomach. Blood rushed towards your head and your vision slightly blurred. You felt stupid. You fell for a guy, pretty much your boss, you don’t even know what he looks like, and he didn’t like you back. You were even going to buy you and him matching bracelets. Breaths exited your mouth in stutters. The realization of how naive you were radiated throughout your being. Mando was just being nice to you. He managed to warm up to you. That’s it.

But you were also so confused. What were the fleeting touches in the Crest? The gifts he gave you after trips to the market? The early morning and late evening conversations? Feelings bubbled up from your stomach and started to seep out of your body in the form of tears.

You spent a year getting to know this man. Kriff, it took you a couple months before he started replying to you in full sentences. No one else has experienced Mando like this. You didn’t want anyone else to see his ungloved hands, the rolling muscles of his back in just a t-shirt, the way the helmet softly shook from side to side when he heard a bad joke. Those small, “Goodnight”s, are yours. The modulated chuckles are yours. The way he makes a cup of caf for you on most mornings. That’s yours.

Of course Mando wasn’t yours, but jealousy managed to seep into your bones regardless.

Zoning back into the situation, you realized Mando started walking back in the direction towards the meet up point. Scrambling to get to your feet, you jumped over the wall of the empty stall and made your way back

—

Upon seeing the size of the bag you carried, Mando slipped it from your grasp and into his. He stuffed a small piece of paper, a receipt, into the bag before swinging it onto his shoulder.

The walk back to the Razor Crest lacked conversation. Sounds of crunching ground underneath your shoes echoed in your ears. Mando followed your lead and kept the trek speechless.

The Razor Crest steadily became larger and larger on the horizon. Once orange, brown, and red mountain ranges were now painted in hues of pink and purple. Colors of the rocky formations reflected off of the Razor Crest.

You bounded up the ramp as soon as it was lowered. Mando followed suit and began to empty the bag of its contents. Each item fell onto the middle of the hull’s floor.

Bacta. Medkits. Flight suit. Soap. Rations.

The beskar man dug around in the bag for a second more and retrieved a handful of receipts.

“Here,” he said as he handed them to you, “I know you like to look them over.”

Your stomach flipped at the thoughtfulness. Reaching your hand out, his gloveless fingers brushed yours in the handing off of the receipts. After they were straightened out you began to look through them.

First receipt, bacta and medkits.

Second receipt, rations and soap.

Third receipt, flight suit.

Fourth receipt.

Wait. Fourth receipt?

Your eyes scanned the lines of the flimsy paper. The date was from today, so it wasn’t old. But you didn’t visit the vendor listed on the receipt. Pupils skipping a few lines, you read the items purchased.

ITEMS PURCHASED (1)

CONDOM - 12 PACK

For the second time today you froze. Blood rushed up towards your head as your vision blurred.

He really just bought a night with a worker at the brothel.

From the little details you had, you tried to make sense of the scene you stumbled across earlier in the night. Mando talked to the bouncer, probably asked who was working that night, wrote down the workers he was interested in, and paid for a night with one of them. I mean, what else could you possibly be talking with a brothel bouncer about? The weather?

Good thing you didn’t buy those bracelets.

PART TWO

#pedro pascal #din djarin fanfic #din djarin #din djarin fic #din djarin fluff #din djarin smut #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #din x reader #mando fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando x reader #mando smut #mando fluff #supply run #thepascalofus #thepascalofus fic

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softestqueeen · 5 months

Text

my little flower pt. 1

pairing: stalker!könig (cod) x reader

summary: You were just minding your business, planting some new flowers in your garden, when suddenly a (charming) man in a mask abducts you to use you for his pleasure. You are incredibly conflicted; the stranger seems to be kinda nice but also incredibly selfish at the same time.

warnings: 18+ MDNI!!! stalking, kidnapping, non-con, rape, soft!König (kinda), soft dom!könig (again kinda), p in v sex, oral (both receiving), pet names, overstimulation, breeding, heavy breeding, cum kink (does that even exist?), cock warming, creampie

wordcount: 2897 words

a/n: This was requested on my ao3, so I hope I’m doing it justice!! I’m also sorry it took me some time to get to it, but it was super fun to write!! I also apologize for all the puns in this fic, there were just too many good opportunities (even though some were kinda cheesy)! And now enjoy <3

Read it here on my ao3!!

It was a beautiful day out and you were enjoying the warm spring sun. You have been waiting for this day all winter long and could now finally enjoy gardening again.

You gathered all your tools again and grabbed the flower seeds you bought last year but couldn’t plant anymore due to the autumn that always came way too fast for your liking. You put on your gardening trousers and slipped on your gardening gloves; your excitement evident in your humming.

You went out into your garden, which was small but couldn’t be more perfect for your yearly projects. You started to dig a few holes into the loosened earth. You went back into the house to get the flower seeds before diving right back into your work.

You were just about to cover the next hole when you suddenly heard a ruffling behind you. You didn’t pay it too much mind though and tried to go back to work. It could have been a cat that mistook your garden for theirs.

But then you heard a voice that seemed a little bit too close for your liking, considering that you lived alone and didn’t expect any company today.

“Out early today, I see little flower.” A shiver ran down your spine. The voice was deep and there was a slight accent evident in it. Was that a German accent?

You were still kneeling on the floor, but still turned around anyways. The man who just talked to you was tall. But not just tall that man was a giant. You had to strain your neck to look at his face, if anybody had been watching the two of you like this, it had to look ridiculous. He must have been around 6”10 at least. He was wearing a tight uniform and a mask which he wore under a helmet. His eyes were a rich and deep green, fitting perfectly to the red stripes that adorned his mask, which was more a dark sheet than a mask.

What was this – admittingly kinda hot – guy doing in your garden? And what did he know about your gardening habits? That was definitely more than a tad scary. But you seemed to regain the control over you body and decided to ask the question that was burning on your tongue.

“Who are you and what the fuck are you doing in my garden?” You were pointing your hand shovel at him while saying this. Your tone gave away that you were not amused at all by someone disturbing you during your cherished gardening time.

“Of course, I’m here to get you my little flower.” he answered you before adding “My name is König and I have been watching you since you moved in here. I am your shadow and even though you’ve never seen me, I’ve been here all the time, watching you in your garden, watching you when you’re out with friends or when you are going to work. But now you are going to come with me and from now on I’ll be the only one you’ll see.”

He said that with a certain confidence in his voice that made again a shiver run down your spine. Did he just threaten to abduct you? Why couldn’t this have happened AFTER the summer? You were now not just scared for your life but also annoyed with the stranger in front of you.

You were still quiet – or more speechless, because if you were able to speak you would have definitely said something to defend your honour at least a little bit – so König continued with his little speech.

“I will give you a choice: either you come with me willingly, or I will simply take you with me. Either way, this is going to have the same outcome, so I recommend just going with me.”

Well, that was not as much of a choice as you hoped. You were too stubborn to just submit to this random guy that appeared out of nowhere in your garden, so you just crossed your arms and looked at him like you could kill him with your hard gaze.

“You’re not going to just come with me, are you?”, he asked you rather annoyed, probably having hoped for a little less resistance.

“Who in their right mind would just go with a complete stranger, who just broke into their house and to make it even worse in their garden!”, you were getting louder and louder by the second, hoping this whole situation was just a dream that you would wake up from.

König let out a sigh before pulling out a white cloth and murmuring to himself, wieso muss alles immer so schwer sein?

It all happened in a flash: he knelt down on the floor in front of you and pressed the white cloth against your face, covering your mouth and nose. He put his other hand to the back of your head, keeping you in place while you struggled against him, but to no avail. You knew you had no chance against this almost 7 feet tall monster in front of you, still you tried to fight against him, when suddenly everything went dark.

You awoke on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. Where the fuck where you?! And why did your head hurt? You were just in your garde- Oh. Jep, this was unfortunately not a dream. Definitely not a dream.

You tried to get a good look at your surroundings. The room was quite large and looked actually kinda nice. There was of course the bed that you were still laying on, a bedside table, what seems to be some kind of make up vanity, a chair, a large bookshelf and most importantly two doors. You assumed one led to a bathroom and the other one to the hallway.

The good sign was, that there were windows. Curtains were currently covering them, but they were there, which meant that you were not locked up in some weird basement or an old attic.

You were still trying to gain all your senses back when you suddenly heard footsteps outside of the door. You didn’t have enough time to lay back down before you could hear a key turning and the door opening.

“I see, my little violet has blossomed. How are you feeling? You’ve been out longer than I expected.”, he seemed to almost regret drugging you, but his face was still covered, so you couldn’t really tell if he was sincere or if it was all a trick.

“Well, how would you feel if someone drugged and kidnapped you?”, you shot back, now irritated again. Even though you couldn’t see it, König’s brows furrowed at your snarky remark. He though you liked him back.

But it didn’t matter, he was going to make you his and you will want it. He would do anything for you.

He took a step towards you, and you slid higher up the bed. You were still feeling a little bit woozy from the drugs, so the sudden movement made you a bit dizzy.

“Please don’t hurt me.”, you managed to whimper out.

“Don’t worry, my little flower. I’m going to take good care of you from now on.”, he promised you, even though to you it sounded more like a threat. He took another step towards the bed, but you were already up against the headboard, so you could do nothing but squirm under his intense gaze that held so many promises.

“If you keep on squirming like that, I’ll have to tie you down, flower.”, he threatened you again. You were scared shitless. You couldn’t have defended yourself even if you weren’t drugged right now. You wondered for a brief moment if maybe he had hoped that he could drug you so he could do to you whatever he wanted. Your blood froze as you suddenly became aware of the fact that you were only wearing a pair of white panties.

But you didn’t even own any, so he did not just undress you, but put on clothes he had prepared for you. You were feeling sick to your stomach and only snapped out of it when you felt a gloved hand against your ankle. He was sitting on the foot of the bed and had apparently noticed that you zoned out, though he remained quiet.

You just realized that you were at this man’s complete mercy. In this moment he could do anything to you, and you could not protest.

He took off his helmet and pulled down the mask that was still keeping his face from you. You hated yourself for admitting this, but he was handsome. His face was all sharp angles and beautiful features. Plump lips, high cheekbones, prominent jaw and still the same piercing green eyes that mustered you.

He threw his discarded helmet and mask carelessly to the side before he started to kiss up your legs.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, my perfect violet.”, he said in between kisses and the first tear rolled down your face. He kissed up both of your legs before he also kissed over your torso and arms. He hasn’t been too close to your face yet thank God.

He locked eyes with you as he pulled down your panties, the hunger evident in his eyes. he broke eye contact to look at your now exposed cunt. He also threw away your panties, leaving you completely naked. Your limbs lay there limp, too heavy to move. You had resigned to your fate and would just let him do what he had to before he hopefully would mercifully let you go.

He was still staring at your exposed cunt like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He leaned down and planted kisses on the top of your thighs, your hips, and loins. You could do nothing but lay there and let him use you.

“I’m going to pump that pussy full until my seed takes root in your womb and a child will sprout within you. Then you will have to stay with me forever. I can’t wait, little flower.”, he almost said it to himself before he dived in and started planting open mouthed kisses on your pussy. He seemed to have all the time in the world, as he played with you. He let his tongue glide between your folds and circled your clit. He kept a steady rhythm and – even though you hated to admit it – you were coming closer to your release.

You didn’t have any control over you body anymore and came with a drawn-out moan. König didn’t let up his torture though and just kept on playing with your pussy long after your orgasm had subsided. He seemed to quite enjoy himself, as you could feel him smiling against you. Silent moans and whimpers were falling from your lips, and you involuntarily moved your hips against him when you felt him insert a finger into your tight cunt. The intrusion brought you embarrassingly close again, and it didn’t take long for the next orgasm to roll over you.

You don’t know how many more orgasm he gave you, because everything was kind of blurry and was so overwhelming. You did notice however when he pulled away, planting a last kiss on your sensitive and overstimulated clit. König stood up again and was now standing next to the bed, your gaze following his every move.

He unzipped his trousers and took out his flushed and rock-hard cock that was definitely to big to fit into any of your holes. The man gripped the base of his cock before slowly pumping it a few times. He let go of it to grab your hand and pull you to him with ease, your body still limp. He placed your head on the edge of the bed, so it was hanging off it, while your body stayed on the bed.

“Open up, little flower. Let me fuck that pretty mouth, huh? Don’t you think I deserve a little treat after treating you so well.”, he cooed before inserting his thumb between your lips, as to pry open your mouth. You were feeling like a puddle of slime and couldn’t have resisted anyways.

König inserted his leaking cock into your mouth and slowly entered you until you swallowed his cock completely. You could feel his pelvis against your nose and his cock down your throat. If you weren’t so numb, you would have definitely gagged. You head was still tilted, so König had a perfect view of the bulge that his dick was causing.

He pulled out almost completely before slamming back into you. He didn’t give you any time to adjust to his size or the feeling of him intruding in your mouth. He started to fuck your mouth in earnest, growling and groaning above you. You pressed your eyes closed, hoping the moment would just end.

Your chest and face were flushed, now not just from the uncomfortable situation but also from the shame that you were feeling, because it didn’t feel completely bad to know that you were the cause of his pleasure, even though you didn’t have do anything. He ate you out until your limbs turned to putty and now used your mouth and throat like they had seriously wronged him.

Suddenly there was a shift, and he didn’t just groan but also praise you. Telling you how good your mouth felt and how well you were doing, making something weird bloom in your chest. The situation wasn’t as bad as anticipated, even though you still wished you were never born.

König increased his speed before pulling out and painting your face, breasts, chest and stomach with his hot white cum. You were finally able to properly breath again, the heaviness on your chest now lightly lifting again.

You licked your lips, involuntarily tasting his surprisingly sweet cum. You were still upside down with your head, thus feeling a little nit light handed. He gripped your waist with one of his beefy hands and threw you back on the bed like you were a rag doll and weighed nothing.

He crawled on top of your sprawled out body before he whispered into your ear “It would be a shame to let all that cum go to waste, wouldn’t it?”

He leaned back and started to collect his cum with one of his thick fingers, before he pushed his cum into your sensitive pussy. He kept on doing it until you hit yet another high before he decided he played enough with you.

“I made a promise to you, my beautiful rose, and I’m a man who stays true to his word”, he unfortunately remined you. He was still fully dressed in his unform, only his helmet and mask were missing, and his cock was standing erect against his clothed stomach again.

He got on his knees between your spread legs, using one of his hands to keep your shaking legs open and the other one to guide his aching cock to your tight hole. He guided himself to your cunt and started to ease himself into you with slow thrusts, completely unlike his earlier assault on your throat.

Once he was settled inside of you it felt like he was splitting you open. He gave you a few seconds to adjust before he started to thrust in and out of you. He was unable to hold his rhythm though, and started to go faster again, a string of sorrysorrysorry leaving his lips.

“You just feel so good.”, he almost moaned out while he again increased his speed, now slamming into you like there’s no tomorrow. König could feel you squeezing him, your next orgasm already fast approaching.

“Cum on my cock, little flower, cum on daddy’s cock.”, he commanded, and your body obliged, a bone crushing orgasm washing over you. But König was not yet finished with you.

He pulled out of you, flipped you around with ease so your ass was sticking out while your face was pressed into one of the pillows. You would have collapsed if he didn’t have a bruising grip on your hips.

He slipped his fat cock inside of you again and started to chase his release. He fucked you like you were a doll, there just for his pleasure and you had a sneaky feeling that that was exactly what you were from now on. He fucked you like he hated you and when you felt his dick twitch inside of you, the both of you came simultaneously.

You clamped down on his cock, making it hard for him to move. He stilled inside of you while he filled you with ropes of his creamy cum, collapsing on top of you and covering you with his large body. You could feel his heavy breathing next to your ear becoming calmer, before you noticed that he had fallen asleep, his cock still nestled inside of you and his weight on top of you.

The last thought you had before passing out from exhaustion, was that this was your life from now on.

And you weren’t sure if that was the best or worst thing that had ever happened to you.

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this! If so, please leave some notes, likes, reblogs, comments and feedback is also very much appreciated! I am currently working on a part 2, so stay tunes! You can also request things here and on my ao3!

Here you can read part 2!

taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @BigBananaa

#call of duty #cod #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #konig x reader #könig mw2 #cod mw2 #ao3 #no y/n #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #female reader #afab reader #stalking #tw stalking

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orchidsangel · 4 months

Note

Recently imagined Jason and y/n, his ex, meeting again after a few years. Still obviously caring about each other. Eating cake alone at the apartment and awaiting the New Year together. Not wanting to say that this is the least lonely, however sad-looking, night they've experienced since they split up.

(jumping off a cliff bc i missed the glaring "new year" part of this and was like "i'll get to this later" so sorry beloved, also this got more angsty than i intended.)

Exes to lovers with Jason is always in the back of my mind somewhere, eating away at my sanity. Just the idea that he loved you so hard he had to let you go, knowing the life he lived wasn't suitable for you. You told him you didn't mind, that he was so important to you that you could put aside the constant worry that would sit in your stomach like a rock every time he was off being Red Hood. You said it was fine, but he saw the way bags appeared under your eyes after too many nights of staying up for him, how you forgot to eat when he went too long without contacting you, and how the tears would slip past your lashes when you were patching him up.

At the end of it all, you had begged him to stay, telling him over and over how much you loved him. It killed him to tell you that that was the reason why it was ending, because you loved him too hard, and you were neglecting yourself because of it. He was sick, wondering if he'd made the wrong decision, wondering if this would only make things worse for you. So, despite the fresh ache in his heart, he still watched out for you, determined to make sure you thrived without him, and thrive you did.

It felt like it had been ages since the last time he saw you that couldn't be mistaken for stalking. Watching you from rooftops and alleyways, rushing fights to make sure he could see if you got home safely and intervene if there were any threats. It became routine for him to hang up his helmet at night once he knew you were safe in the confines of the apartment you once shared. What wasn't routine was you knocking on his apartment door at exactly eleven forty-seven pm on New Year's Eve with a sad-looking store-bought cake in your hands and an even sadder look on your face.

"I know we're not together anymore, but…"

Splitting a whole cake between the two of you on New Year's Eve instead of having a typical dinner had been your tradition for years. Jason took it very seriously, planning the cake in advance for weeks, testing different flavors, even going as far as calling you once in the middle of a fight, asking if you preferred chantilly or sponge. It was stupid to most people you told, but to you and Jason, it was the perfect way to end the year. Now, you stand before him, holding a cake that could never compare to the decadent black forest cake he had made the last time you'd spent New Year's together.

You look down at the cake and then back up at him, the familiar gleam of water in your eyes. He takes the container in one hand and uses the other to pull the door open more so you can come in. It had been a while since you'd been there last, but everything was the same. A wall with an extensive collection of weapons, a stack of books that only collected dust when he was gone for long periods of time, and a framed picture of Jason and Bruce from his robin days.

"How'd you know where to find me?"

"Lucky guess."

Not a lucky guess, the first place you'd told him you loved him.

He roots around a drawer, pulling out two forks and handing one to you. Silence hangs in the air, several year's worth of unspoken feelings lingering with nowhere to go but up. he pops the lid off the container and gestures for you to take the first bite, another tradition that came with his hours of cake-making; he'd always insist on you having the first taste so you could give feedback and you only ever had positive things to say. Now, the weak taste of vanilla paired with a dry crumb, and your mouth turns downward into a frown.

"I don't think it's that bad."

"You'll eat anything."

"True."

No, it wasn't that bad. In fact, before you'd met Jason, this was something you probably would've treated yourself to when life decided to be good to you, but he had spoiled you, given you so much more than you even knew was out there, and it wasn't all material.

Three minutes to New Year's now, and approximately six bites taken out of the cake, five from Jason, and you're ready to part ways again with you leaving him this time. There's still time to make a run for it and ring in the new year without the baggage of your ex hanging over you; there's still time to pretend your world wasn't shattered when he left.

"Why are you here? Why not spend New Year's with your friends?"

"Friends?"

"The people I always see you with when I-"

"Watch me?"

"Am on patrol."

"Right."

"Why aren't you with them?"

"Not friends, coworkers."

"You're with them all the time."

"Workplace comradery."

"So, friends."

Thirty seconds now, and the words you still haven't said are on the tip of your tongue and in the back of your mind, egging you on to admit the feelings you've been sitting on for what feels like forever. He beats you to it.

"Please come back to me."

"I'm not the one who left."

Fireworks go off outside, signifying the beginning of a new year, and you and Jason stand across from each other. Physically, only the kitchen island stands between you two, but emotionally, you're still miles apart. You can't hear in his words how much he needs you back in his life, how hard it is for him every night to not climb in through your window and find his spot in the bed you'd shared like he'd done so many times before; and he can't hear in your words how the wound he left in your heart never healed, how it never even started to, and how through him leaving, you found out that time doesn't heal all things.

#☆ messages from friends ☆#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd angst #red hood #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood angst #jason todd fic #jason todd imagine #red hood fic #red hood imagine #jason todd i’ll love you forever

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hypewinter · 1 year

Text

Can I offer you another Danny POV in these trying times?

It had started after his encounter with the costumed people. After that his dad had taken him to the store and bought a lot of strange items. From there, he put the strange items together and put them up all around the house. Ever since then, Danny couldn't go through the walls.

Danny pushed against the wall now but he couldn't go through just like all his other past attempts. But if he couldn't go through, how would he play tag with his dad!? Fat tears bubbled up in his eyes as he tried to desperately push through the wall. He liked playing with his dad! It was the best part of the day.

Tears began to fall freely down his cheeks and he let out a whimper as he tried phasing through the floor this time to no avail. Suddenly big hands scooped him up.

Jack tried to soothe his son but Danny was not listening to his assurances that "this was to protect him" and "it was for the best". He was too busy crying while glaring at the strange items covering it. If only they weren't there.

--------

Danny woke up to voices outside his room. One was his dad's but the other was female. He tensed up in fear, remembering the last female voice he encountered, but this one was different. It was younger and for some reason, hearing it filled him with warmth.

"Now's not the time for that Dad." The female voice said.

"No, I won't have my princess sacrificing her education." Replied his dad.

Danny wondered what they were talking about. He was also curious about who the owner of this new voice was. She had called his dad , her dad. Did that mean they were related. That would make them siblings right? He had a sister?

Suddenly a thought came from deep within his mind. Of course I have a sister, her name is Jazz. But his moment of clarity was gone just as soon as it had overtaken him. Danny was left wondering who is Jazz? as he drifted back to sleep.

--------

Jazz as it turned out was his red-headed sister. And although she always wore a smile around him, it was always tinted with sadness. Danny couldn't help but wonder why.

Everything was going great so there was no reason to be sad. Jazz had now moved in, all the neighbors were constantly cooing at him and giving him treats, and Jack had gotten a job with some red person. Wait, did he get hired by Little Red Riding Hood? Maybe she needed a new hunter to help her fight the wolf.

At that thought, Danny couldn't help but look at his father in awe. Every evening when he left, Danny silently hoped he'd catch a lot of bad wolves.

--------

It took a couple of weeks for Danny to find out that while his dad worked for a Red Hood, it was very disappointingly not Red Riding Hood. Instead it was some guy with a white streak in his hair with some very disgusting ectoplasm circulating his body.

Danny made a face and turned into his sister's hold as he came face to face with the guy at the doorway.

"I'm sorry about that." she said to the guy, "He's not usually like this."

"It's ok, babies usually cry in front of me so this is an improvement." he replied.

"Come on Matt, Jason's really nice if you give him a chance!" His father proclaimed. His trademark loudness making the doorframe shudder.

That was the other thing Danny didn't like about this red guy. He had already seen him twice before, when his Dad had taken him in to grab a few forgotten tools.

The first time the guy wore a red helmet. Everyone acted like he was dangerous and shouldn't be messed with. Even his dad was very respectful in his interactions with him.

The second time Danny had seen not Red Riding Hood, he didn't have his helmet on nor did he go by his previous name. Everyone at the garage treated him as if he was one of their own instead of the dominating presence he had been before. In fact, they acted as if "Jason" was a completely different person all together. It was quite strange to say the least. Though Danny wasn't sure he had a leg to stand on considering every time they were in public, his dad would call him "Matt".

Danny had fussed about it a few times but that didn't seem to have any effect. He had finally decided it was fine since he was at least still called "Danny" and "Danno" when they were home. Now though, thanks to this Jason guy, he was even being called that stupid name within his own house! Danny was quickly deciding he didn't like this weird bad ectoplasm guy at all.

@idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @overtherose @seraphinedemort

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #no tag ramble today folks!#currently in the process of getting everything ready to put on ao3 #so hopefully that's coming soon!#we'll see if my schedule likes me enough to cooperate

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shangchiswife · 1 year

Text

din djarin- maroon

guys oh my god this is the first piece I've written in months and i already know it's bad. i just wanted to put something out because i haven't put anything out since like October. i promise I'll start writing again and next time (hopefully) I'll have a better piece!!

....

summary: din djarin spills a drink on grogu's babysitter whom he happens to be in love with

din djarin x fem!reader

warnings: none

word count: 1099

....

Din Djarin made sure that his beskar armor was polished just right.

The people of Freetown or what was formerly known as Mos Pelgo were hosting a party in celebration of the new name.

Before Din was about to head out of town with his child and you as Grogu’s babysitter, Cobb Vanth stopped you in your tracks.

“Woah woah woah, where are you folks heading off to? Don’t you know that there’s a party about to happen? And guess what? You all are the guests of honor!” Vanth had drawled.

Din took one look at your eager look and immediately told Cobb that he’d stay.

He would never ever want to hurt you.

After you had joined his crew, Din had grown to love and appreciate you. The way you cared for his child like he was your own and the way you constantly checked on him made him fall deeply in love with you.

So now here he was polishing the last of his helmet before he promptly slipped it back on over his head.

You previously left the Razorcrest to help out with party decorations since many townsfolk had requested your help with setting up.

Before you had left you had placed a bright red bowtie next to Grogu’s sleeping quarters.

Taking the hint, Din took the bow and set it beside Grogu who sat in the cockpit, teething on a colorful ball that you had bought him from a marketplace on Coruscant.

Din took the ball out of Grogu’s mouth.

“You can’t eat that,” Din stated to the baby who let out a whine of annoyance before crawling onto the Mandalorian's thigh and sitting on it.

The Mandalorian placed the bowtie over the child’s head and down to its neck.

Din stepped back and admired Grogu whose brown eyes stared down at the red bowtie quizzically.

“Grogu you can’t take that off, Y/N won’t be happy if you don’t wear that,” he told the baby who was trying to rip the piece of clothing from his neck.

Grogu stared up at him, his big brown eyes looking into his father’s helmet, and cooed with understanding.

“Yeah now let’s get to the party,” Din told the child before picking him up and exiting the ship.

….

When Din entered the party he was shocked by the number of decorations that adorned the walls.

There were strings of lanterns that adorned the wall along with flowers.

It was definitely your touch.

Din searched the large room for you, trying to scout you out of the large mass of people that had squished inside.

Suddenly someone tapped him on the shoulder.

The Mandalorian turned around expecting it to be you but it was just Cobb Vanth.

The sheriff chuckled at the jerk of his helmet.

“I know you’re looking for your girl…she’s over there by the Twi’lek,” he pointed over to the right side of the room where many people danced to the beat of an instrument.

He still couldn’t see you.

“Over by the treats table,” Cobb said before Din finally laid his eyes on you.

Your hair was adorned with flowers and you were dressed in a beautiful dress that made your eyes sparkle.

Din could’ve sworn his heart stopped.

You were an angel.

“Yeah ain’t she a doll?” Cobb laughed before slapping the Mandalorian’s shoulder in a friendly way.

Din was lucky that there was a helmet covering his face because his cheeks glowed red from anger from Cobb’s comment and also how pretty you looked.

He saw you turn away from the Twi’lek and stare directly at him and the child.

Your eyes glowed as your mouth spread into a grin.

“It’s so nice to see you both!” you smiled before tickling Grogu’s chin.

“And look at you! You look so dashing in that cute little tie,” you gushed before pressing a kiss onto the child’s wrinkly green forehead.

“You look nice too, Din,” you gave him a sweet smile before touching his clothed wrist momentarily, the brief touch sending shivers down his spine.

“Yeah and uh…you look beautiful,” he said, his modulated voice masking his stuttering.

Another smile graced your face.

“Aww thank you, Din,” you put your arms behind your back and slightly swung them, trying to keep your mind from combusting at the Mandalorian’s comment.

Before Din could speak again, he was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder.

He turned to find a Mirilian couple beaming at him.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” you put a hand on his shoulder before turning away and retreating toward the Twi’lek you were previously talking to.

Din was getting tired.

Being the guest of honor meant a lot of attention for him and the child which was something that he wasn’t used to.

He turned his helmet towards you, you were spinning to the beat of the instrument playing while hearty laughs came from your throat.

A wine glass full of a burgundy-colored drink sat in your hand as you continued to sway to the music.

Initially, Din wasn’t going to bother you and was just going to suck it up and try to enjoy himself at the party but Grogu was falling asleep on his shoulder.

So he started towards you, moving through the bustling and dancing crowd in front of him until he got to you.

The moment he reached for you he was interrupted by the sound of a glass shattering and a loud splash.

Your dress was now a burgundy color, a color that matched the color of his cheeks which were luckily guarded by his mask.

Your mouth hung agape as you stared at the big spot on your dress.

“Y/N I am so…so sorry,” he apologized profusely before you cut him off with a laugh.

His heart stopped.

He had spilled wine all over your beautiful dress and you were laughing?

He was confused.

“Din, it’s okay, this will come out the next time I wash our clothes,” you smiled.

Din exhaled feeling slightly better about splashing your dress.

“Aww I see someone is a little sleepy,” you cocked your head to the side before caressing the yawning child on the Mandalorian’s shoulder.

“Just a bit,” Din joked, trying to make light of the situation.

But you could see right through his mask.

“Come on let’s go home, Mando, I know you’re tired too,” you swung an arm over his shoulder and shook your head lightly.

Under his mask, a small smile stretched across Din’s face.

He was so in love with you.

#pedro pascal x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin fluff #star wars x reader #star wars imagine

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shadowlali · 6 months

Text

mi vida, mi paloma - part II

COD - Rudy Parra x fem!reader (Part II) | Alejandro Vargas x fem!reader (Part I)

[18+] wc: ~900 masterlist

warnings: mostly SFW (but still marking it as 18+ just in case), some proofreading, no use of Y/N nor too many details on reader’s appearance (Rudy is taller than reader), pet names (paloma, palomita), let me know if i forgot anything a/n: a two part request from this ask. it is two separate stories. this is all written in Rudy’s POV. also a reference to girl dinner except it's girl lunch hehe. hope you enjoy!

Rudy curses as he drops his keys on your welcome mat. He holds a giant pink box in one hand and his helmet in the other. He places his helmet on the floor and picks up his keys to quietly open your door. You texted him that you were planning on taking a nap after having a rough morning but he could go ahead and let himself in. Rudy manages to bring in all his stuff without making too much noise and kicks off his boots.

He pushes the door open to your bedroom and is met with different shades of pink silk and satin. You're sleeping soundly wrapped in a fluffy blanket with rain sounds playing from your speaker on the nightstand. Rudy stares for a few moments in awe, wondering how he could be so lucky to find someone like you. He thinks about taking off his jeans and leather jacket to join you in bed but decides against it, not wanting to wake you.

Rudy places the pink box on the chair by your vanity and quietly closes the door behind him. He knows the way around your home just like you know your way around his. He sees a new addition to the photos on your shelf, one of you and him on his motorcycle. The nervousness from his gift dissipates while looking at the photo. She’s going to like it, he thinks.

He takes off his leather jacket and places it on the couch while he decides what to make you for lunch. Rudy stops in front of the stove and chuckles lightly as he sees the cinnamon rolls sitting in a glass cake stand. You hate cinnamon with a passion while he loves cinnamon. He was more than ready to give up cinnamon in order to date you, but on the 3rd date you surprised him with a delicious batch of homemade cinnamon rolls.

Since then, you don’t mind baking him pastries or sweet breads with cinnamon as long as he rinses his mouth with mouthwash before kissing you. It is a compromise he happily makes every time. Rudy opens the fridge and begins to take out some fruit and cheeses then crackers from your cupboard. He finds it funny how you can eat what he considers snacks as a meal. Knowing he’s going to need more sustenance, he takes out the prosciutto as well.

Rudy busies himself with cutting the apples and strawberries into smaller pieces and arranging them on a board. It’s slightly disordered and not as pretty as you usually make it but he hopes you’ll still like it. He thinks about all the times he makes you food or buys you gifts. You’re more delicate and careful when putting together stuff for him, making everything look perfect. But when you accept something from him, a bow on the gift box slightly askew or some fruit cut in uneven pieces, you still give him a sweet kiss and thank him for taking the time to prepare something for you.

Rudy places the board in the fridge while he washes the dishes and cleans up the counter. He’s drying his hands when he hears your bedroom door open.

“Rudy? Are you here?” you call out in the sleepy voice he loves so much.

“Sí, paloma,” he responds,” in the kitchen.”

He hears you walk then stop for a few moments in the living room until you appear in the kitchen doorway. A sight for sore eyes, you're wearing the present he bought you: brand new pink and black motorcycle helmet. You put on his oversized leather jacket, standing barefoot and pretty just for him. You do a few poses for him, making him laugh then run into his arms. He wraps his arms around your smaller frame and you say a series of thank you, thank you, thank you, I love it so much.

“De nada, paloma,” he says while gently taking off the helmet to place a kiss on your mouth. “I like the outfit too, you should wear this more often.” [You’re welcome]

You laugh into his kiss while he tugs the bottom of your tiny cotton shorts. “I love you, Rudy. You didn’t need to buy me a new helmet, the other one was just fine. But thank you, baby boy.”

He groans at the nickname you call him, outwardly showing embarrassment but loving it every time you call him that. “I love you too, palomita. The other helmet was too old and scratched. I saw this one and immediately thought of you. I wanted your first helmet to be perfect.”

The helmet you’d been wearing was one of his. While you were the first and now the only person allowed to ride his bike and wear his helmets aside from himself, Rudy wanted to buy you something of your own. He isn’t going to tell you just yet, but he’s already looking for a leather jacket similar to his.

“It is perfect, baby boy,” you whisper as you tilt your head up to give him another long kiss. “Did you see the cinnamon rolls I made you, did you like them?”

“I haven’t tried them yet,” he laughs at your pout,” because I was making us lunch, go sit and I’ll bring it over.”

The new helmet is left on the kitchen counter as you and Rudy have lunch together. You stay in his leather jacket and laugh at his silly jokes, the rough morning already forgotten.

- - -

If you are interested in reading the first part with Alejandro's fluff, here is the link

#rudy parra #rudy parra x reader #rudy parra x female reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 x female reader #shadowlali

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vodika-vibes · 5 months

Note

oh god prompt asks open I see??? how about something with both 1 and 4 with... boba maybe? rotj era boba. that edgy smug bastard. I haven't read anything with him in a WHILE 💔💔💔

ps ur writings are amazing!!

Punishment

Summary: You disobeyed Boba's rules, the rules that you agreed to ages ago, and now you have to face the delicious consequences.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader

Word Count: 1714

Warnings: Smut. Oral, M receiving

Prompts: “I want to hear you beg” and "Swallow it. All of it."

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: This one feels awkward, but I'm not sure if it's just written awkwardly, or if it's my uber religious upbringing making me feel that way. I'm going to guess that it is. I hope you like it!

Divider by Saradika

You can count on one hand the number of people who know where you live, and also know the keycode to your door and the code to your alarm system, so, when you’re woken up in the dead of night at the sound of your alarm getting turned off, you’re not half as alarmed as you could have been.

In fact, there’s only one person, other than you, who has both the door code and the alarm code.

And while burying yourself in your blankets and pillows is so very tempting, instead you sit up and swing your legs off the side of the bed. You don’t bother adding any additional clothes, the long shirt- his shirt, to be more specific- covers enough of your body to not be improper.

You step out of your room, and follow the hall into the living room. And a sleepy smile crosses your face as you see Boba quizzically eyeing a shelf that’s new since his last visit.

“It’s for your armor,” You say as a greeting, “Since I know how you hate leaving your armor sitting on the floor.”

He glances at you, and if you had to bet, you’d say that Boba knew that you were awake before you even got out of bed. He sets his helmet in one of the cubbies, on a stand specifically for his helmet, and then he turns to look at you properly.

A smirk lifts the corner of his mouth, “Is that my shirt, princess?” He asks.

You smile at him placidly, “Possession is nine-tenths of the law, so technically it’s my shirt now.”

“Looks good on you,” Boba replies, his voice a low rumble.

You cross the room at a lazy pace, and as soon as you’re close enough his arms are securely around your waist, and you slide your hands up his chest plate to wrap your arms around his neck, “Everything looks good on me, I am amazingly attractive.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” He says in agreement as his hands start slowly sliding the shirt up, revealing the simple cotton panties that you slipped on after your shower.

“If I knew you were on your way, I would have put on something else.” You admit with a small pout, “I bought some lingerie to show off for you.”

“Wanted to surprise you.” He admits in turn as one of his hands slides up to the back of your head, “Missed you.” He adds with a scowl, as if the admission pained you.

You grin at him and stand on your toes to chastely press your lips against him, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.” You whisper against his lips. “And I missed you too.”

“Is that right? How much did you miss me?”

“A lot.” Your fingers move to the seals holding his armor on, and you deftly start popping them.

Boba lightly bats your hands away from his armor, and he takes over. He swiftly removes each piece and sets them on the shelf, until he’s stripped down to his undersuit, it takes about half a minute, and you watch him with an appreciative eye.

Your Boba is so attractive, you can’t help but admire when you get the chance.

“You know, princess.” Boba starts as he grabs your hips and pulls you flush against him, and you’re not the least bit surprised when you feel his hard length pressed against your stomach, “I was very surprised when I got that holo recording of you the other day.”

Your face flames, “Uhm…I can explain…” You start.

“Especially,” he continues over your, “Since I’m fairly certain I told you you weren’t allowed to touch your pretty cunt without asking.”

You pout at him and shoot him your saddest tooka eyes, “I missed you.”

“Is that an explanation or an excuse, princess?”

Your pout morphs into a grin, “Yes.”

Amusement crosses his face, “You know I have to punish you now, don’t you princess?”

Your pout returns, “But Bobaaaa-” You drag his name out in a distinct whine as you press yourself firmly against him and rock against his length, pulling a hiss from him. “Wouldn’t you rather just fuck me?”

“Rules are rules, Princess.” He counters, “And you did agree to the rules.” Boba reminds you as his hands tighten on your hips, his gaze is locked on yours, as if waiting for you to say something.

And you huff as you press your face against his chest. You did agree to the rules. Months ago. And you also know that if you say your safeword he’ll stop. But, stars help you, you don’t want him to stop.

So instead you look up at him through lowered lashes, “Did you not like my holo, Boba?”

His eyes glitter with desire, “I didn’t say that. I fisted my cock to that video multiple times since I got it.” He roughly pulls your shirt up and off and throws it to the side, “But just because I liked it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve punishment.”

You feel a thrill of delight, and you try to press yourself against him, but he holds you still with his firm grip, “So, what’s my punishment, Boba?”

“Hm, I’m beginning to think you want to be punished, Princess.”

You press both of your hands against your chest and shoot him a look of mock offense, “I’ve never done anything worthy of punishment.”

“Mm-hmm.” He hooks his fingers in the band of your panties and snaps them, pulling a yelp from your lips, “Take these off, Princess.”

You grin at him and obediently slide the thin material down your legs and toss them to join your shirt on the other side of the room.

“Hm, so you can be obedient.” Boba murmurs as he slides his hand over your bare ass.

“When it suits my purposes.” You confirm with a grin.

His hand lands hard on your ass, and you squeak and jerk away from his hand, and then you pout at him as he massages the sting away with his hand, “So you intentionally disobeyed.” Boba notes thoughtfully.

Your expression becomes angelic, and he chuckles.

“I want to hear you beg, Princess.” Boba says, his voice heavy with desire, “But that’s going to come later.”

“What!? Later?” Oh, that wasn’t supposed to be a whine, but it definitely came out as a whine.

He chuckles, a dark noise that makes you shiver, “Yes, Princess. Later.” His hand slides up your back. “Right now I’m going to take your mouth.” His hand slides up to rest on the back of your neck, “And if you even think about touching that pretty little cunt of yours, princess, this punishment will become even longer. Do you understand?”

You nod rapidly, your gaze already drifting to the bulge in the front of his pants.

He grabs your chin and lifts your gaze to meet his, “Use your words, princess.”

“I understand,” You say, “I’ll be good.”

“Hm, we’ll see won’t we.” He allows you to tug him over to the couch and he sits comfortably, while you grab a pillow for your knees and you settle between his legs, “Hm, someone’s eager.” Boba murmurs as he sets his hand on the top of your head.

You trail your tongue down his hard length, still covered by the cloth of his bodysuit, and then you look up at him, “I told you that I missed you.” You free his cock from his pants and immediately press a kiss to the leaking head as you grip the base with a firm hand.

You’ll probably never be able to take his entire length in your mouth, but you are very talented with your hands, and Boba’s never once complained about you lacking that particular ability.

You trail your tongue down his length, and then back up, before you wrap your lips around the head of his cock and you start a shallow bobbing motion while hollowing your cheeks.

Boba’s hands brush across your face as you work, pushing your hair back, tracing over your eyes, and absent praises fall from his lips mixed with his moans as you expertly work him over with your mouth and hands.

With every bob of your head you take a little more of him into your mouth, until you have as much of him in your mouth as you can handle. Boba’s gaze is locked on your face as you bring him closer and closer to the brink.

And then his hands are on your face, “Look at me Princess,” Boba says through a groan. Your eyes, which had fallen shut at some point, snap open and your gaze locks with his. “Swallow it.” He orders, “All of it.”

You hum around him and his hips jerk up at the sensation. And then his head falls back and a low groan escapes him as he spills his release into your mouth with little warning.

And you obediently do as he ordered, swallowing every drop of his release. You keep your lips around him, until you feel his hand on the top of your head, lightly stroking your hair to indicate for you to stop.

“Good girl,” Boba murmurs as you sit back on your heels, “So obedient, did so good for me.”

You shiver under his praise, and he chuckles, before he peels his shirt off and tosses it across the room, “Does that mean no more punishment?” You ask as you drag your gaze across his chest.

“Mm…no. It just means that I’ll be able to have your punishment last as long as I have planned.” He stands and helps you to your feet, one of his hands dipping between your thighs to brush against your dripping pussy, “Mm, so wet for me.” Boba murmurs as he kisses you quickly, “To the bedroom, Princess. I want you to find the toys you used in the holo. You’re going to put on a show for me, my pretty girl.”

At that, your face burns. “Okay.”

“Good girl,” He repeats. Boba takes a moment to slide his pants down, and he tosses them to join the rest of the clothes on the floor, and then he encourages you to head towards the bedroom.

#star wars #sw rotj #boba fett x reader #boba x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #18+ fic #answered asks #clone thirsting #technically

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skitskatdacat63 · 5 months

Text

Fernando Alonso & His Relationship With Cards

I'm sure we're all familar with the cards on the back of Fernando's Vegas GP helmet by now, but did you know his relationship with cards goes a lot deeper?

I. Magic Tricks

You've probably seen or heard someone at least mention Fernando's propensity for card tricks. As far as I can tell he was doing them(publically) as far back as 2003 all the way to as recently as 2018. Even once performing a card trick, with a condom and a teddy bear(!??!?!??!!), in front of Valentino Rossi who said "How was that possible?"(x)

But how did this start? According to James Allen, "Fernando admits to having been heavily influenced by his grandfather, a mercurial figure, who taught him magic and card tricks, still one of his passions away from the race track."(x) And I'm not sure the validity of this one, because I couldn't find an actual source, but apparently he once said: "My parents are responsible for the two things I like doing most - driving and magic tricks. They bought me my first go-kart and a magician's kit."

In several interviews he described it as his hobby off track, and that he loved learning new tricks and surprising others in the garage with them! So clearly cards are pretty important to him both as a hobby but also to who he is as a person since they've been with him just as long as racing has.

II. Card Symbolism in His Helmets

This is the reason I originally made this post, but I thought I should also explain the origins of his card fascination first. As I said, we probably all remember the cards on the back of his helmet in Vegas, but did you know that wasn't the first time he had cards on the back of his helmet?

From 2008-2013, he used to have a pair of cards on the back of his helmets. The symbolisms of the cards themselves as well as the evolution of their design is really fascinating to me! Even more so with the recent development of the card choice in 2023.

Fernando said he wanted to reference his two titles in some way on the back of his helmet and after his friend sent him several ideas, he decided on having two cards(an ace of clubs and an ace of hearts, sometimes pictured with 05 and 06 on them as well), saying: "I picked the cloverleaf [the ace of clubs - Ed] to give me luck, but the only pity is that it doesn't have four leaves!"(X)

2008.

Here's the very first appearance of the cards! They're displayed flat, with the 05 and 06 clearly visible

2009.

Very similar to 2008, but with a slightly different design, and they're maybe a bit more straight with less shadow?

2010.

This is the first major change! I was sad they didn't have the years on them anymore, but then I realized they're sparkly to match with his signature lightning bolts on the top of the helmet!!

2011.

Honestly I'm still somewhat unsure if this is the actual 2011 helmet? It's pretty difficult to find clear photos of the back of helmets from older seasons. It's easiest to find them on replica sites or auction sites so I'm not 100%? But anyways, I like that this has the championship years on the underside of the cards

2012.

This is when I started getting weirdly emotional about the helmets. Do you see how they've progressed from being a centerpoint to being curled up and sad at the bottom of the helmet? Not listing the year anymore??

2013.

Same thoughts as 2012. And after this season, they cease to exist (just like his ferrari chair in the garage, WOAH CALLBACK), until cards make a reeappearance in his Vegas helmet, albeit in a different form

2013 Monaco(Honorable Mention):

For some reason 2013 helmets were easier to find proper pictures of, so I happened to witness this absolute beauty. The creativity of this helmet genuinely blows me away??? Wanting to keep the card motif, but making sure to incorporate it into the rest of the puzzle piece design?? Mwah! There was another special 2013 helmet but they didn't change the cards at all so I really applaud this one

2023 Las Vegas(The Return of The King):

The magnificent return! But look! The cards are different cards! Instead of being two aces, it's now an ace of hearts, a four of hearts(his driver number of course!) and, the, now iconic, representation of himself as a Joker. I literally could not believe my eyes when this helmet was released and I saw the Joker card, what a fucking silly old man....I really wonder if he felt nostalgic having cards on his helmet again or if he didn't think about it all and was just like, "ah cards because Vegas!!!"

III. Why Does This Matter?

*The rest of the post was factual, this is moreso my personal thoughts on the symbolism of the cards/designs

This post spawned from me recently watching the 2010 Bahrain gp and noticing "hey wait a minute...are those CARDS ON THE BACK OF HIS HELMET!?" It's a really tiny detail that's unfortunately covered up by the HANS device pretty much whenever he's wearing the helmet, so it's really difficult to spot! But I became fascinated with the fact that he had cards on his helmet before that recent helmet, and now here we are!

There's something to me about how the design of the cards evolves over the course of six seasons from the cards being front and center to being smaller, more folded up and closer to the bottom of the helmet. As I said, the 2012-2013 ones genuinely made me depressed because it feels, symbolically, like his hopes for getting another Ace are becoming more and more unlikely and falling away until they eventually fall falt and fade away entirely after 2013 and disappear for basically a decade.

But when they return? They're not the same cards! Instead of representing Fernando's championships, they now represent him as a person, displaying his driver number and his persona of being a Joker!! Though I do think it's interesting he happened to keep the Ace of Hearts, even though he talked more about the Ace of Clubs before. I'm not sure it's actually this deep in reality, but I like to think that it's him not letting his championships(and the lack thereof) define him, but rather letting who he is as a person shine and be the centerpoint instead! But on a sadder note, as @suzuki-ecstar said to me, maybe the Aces aren't there anymore because he's lost all hope for a chance at a third Ace entirely :(

#yes its finals week and im up to my eyes in coursework but instead decided to spend like 5 hours researching and writing this post #nah bcs i actually genuinely put more work into this then I think I have all semester dsfjdskjg #that thing about him using a condom and teddy bear in a magic trick genuinely had me crying with laugher. actual tears rolling down my face #<- HOW!?!? WHAT WAS THE TRICK?? its literally inconceivable to me what he did. oh if only there were pics UGH #anyways!! this post was a lot of fun to make!! i really really love the symbolism and design of helmets so this was a rly fun project #and i also went down a lot of rabbitholes while make this and saw many very weird articles from yore #i feel like i make an equal amnt of deranged posts abt seb and nando but i dont know why nando is gifted w all my well researched projects #<- i.e. chair post. that was the same level of research as this one but at least this one i could find actual sources about....#idk theres smth about the extremely long history of nando's history that evokes research posts like this KLAJSLSKDJ #theres just so much that i dont think I ever really see people discussing! so i must create.#haha what was that joke tag i wanted to make abt my researched posts? I think:#normal posts that catie normally makes in a normal fashion #<- one day ill go back and actually tag posts w that. bcs the amtn of research compared to my actual schoolwork is so unwell #fernando alonso #fa14 #f1 #formula 1 #catie.rambling.txt #we do a little bit of f1

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royalsofhistory · 7 months

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Empress Elisabeth of Austria and her Corfiot palace through the eyes of the Greek royals.

Greece was destined to offer the Empress Elisabeth the hospitality of its soil. She chose Greece as the country where she would hide herself and her sorrow. At Corfu she bought a site of ground from an old Corfiote Statesman called Braïla, and on it she built the Palace which she called "Achilleion", after her hero Achilles, whose statue was in the middle of the top garden terrace, and represented him at the hour of his death, drawing the arrow out of his heel. When in Corfu, it was understood, she was to be strictly incognito, and her wishes were always respected. One day, suddenly, when we least expected it, she arrived at Athens, having travelled by the ordinary steamer, and called at the Palace accompanied by a lady -in-waiting. She asked the porter whether she could see the King and Queen. On the porter's inquiring who she was, she replied she was "the Empress of Austria." Whereupon we were brought down to verify that statement . It seemed impossible╴but it was the Empress of Austria! Needless to say she obtained her interview, and after half an hour's conversation she took her departure, insisting that her visit should not be returned by my parents. As she was anxious to study Greek culture, she decided to learn modern Greek, and applied herself to the task with great energy and perseverance. She engaged a tutor for Greek conversation. Her first was Dr. Christomanos, an author and poet, who wrote a charming life of the Empress, which was translated into several languages. Her last was Count A. Mercati, who afterwards became Master of King Constantine's household. Accompanied by her tutor, the Empress used to go off on a five or six hours' walk, all over the island; and even for the picturesque ceremony of combing and brushing her hair the tutor had to be present, talking Greek to her all the time. She learnt to speak Greek quite faultlessly. In the arrangement of her house the Empress took great pride, setting up the statues of all her new "Gods"; Sophocles, Euripides, Plato and Aristotle. She also had a statue of Heine, the poet, erected in a shrine. When the Kaiser bought the Achilleion, he at once banished Heine, and raised Achilles from his recumbent position into a standing War Lord, with gilded helmet and shield, so that the first sight of Achilleion should be his glittering helmet. It is a pity that the Empress tried to improve the natural beauty of the spot. Her lack of taste, I may even ungraciously say her eccentricities, were almost an eyesore. There was a grotto of artificial rock and mirrors, destined as a home for monkeys, who luckily never came to inhabit it. Though the island abounded in oranges, she sent to Italy for her fruit. The view from the terrace over all the plain of Corfu, with its olive groves groups cypresses on one side and the sea and the mountains of Albania on the other one of the most exquisite I have ever seen.

The memoirs of His Royal Highness, Prince Nicholas of Greece and Denmark, My fifty years, 1926.

I was a child when the Empress came to Athens and saw her only once or twice, but I remember her more vividly than many people I knew far better. I imagine it was the same with everyone who came in contact with her. Her brilliant, beautiful and restless personality left an indelible impression. She was so enchanted with Greece that she decided to build a villa in Corfu. The site she chose could not have been more beautiful, about twelve miles outside the town, set on a high hill overlooking the sea on one side and a chain of mountains on the other. But she was too impatient even to look at the plans and gave the architect carte blanche. So instead of the simple cottage she had intended he erected an orate and hideous palace lavishly adorned with frescoes, statues and bronzes of every description. This atrocity cost the Austrian Govemment twelve million crowns, I believe. The Empress's life was dominated by the fear of losing her beauty. As she grew older it became an obsession. Hours were spent every moring brushing the glotious brown hair that she wore gathered into two great plaits coiled around her head. This hair-brushing was a matter of solemn ritual. Any hairs that fell out during the process were carefully collected and presented to the Empress on a silver salver. If their number proved to be too many the entire day was blackened to her. Once a captain of a Russian gunboat reported that he had seen a yacht coming into the Piraus harbour with a woman seated on the deck whose mass of hair reached down to the ground while two attendants stood behind her brushing it. " That could only be the Empress of Austria." said my father, when he heard the story. Later in the day a carriage drove up to the Palace and a mysterious visitor was announced, a lady who refused to give her name. It was, as we expected, the Empress Elizabeth. She insisted on preserving a strict incognito while she was in Greece, although it seemed rather unnecessary, since everyone knew who she was. She detested nothing so much as being photographed, or even looked at for that matter, and always carried a large fan with her on her walks, so that she could unfurl it and hide her face from the passers-by. The Empress was a fine woman in many respects, far finer, I think, than most of her biogtaphers have represented her. Intelligent, intuitive, sensitive, she had all the qualities to make a great empress. But she was tragically lacking in a sense of proportion. Even in the small issues of everyday life she had no idea of modera-tion. She could not take anything up without making it a mania. While she was in Corfu she set herself to learn Greek, although she had gone there to rest. Now Greek is a complicated language and its study is hardly to be recommended as a restful pursuit. The Empress certainly did not regard it as such either for herself or any one else, for she wore out her two teachers, Count Mercati and Mr. Christomanos. Every day she walked ten or twelve miles with one or the other, talking Greek all the way and, even during the hair-brushing ceremony, one of them was always present reading to her. Her figure became another obsession with her. Although she was exaggeratedly slender when she came to Greece (she weighed, I believe, only seven stones) no Hollywood film star could have followed out a more Spartan regime. Her constant dieting made her irritable and depressed. Even when she lunched with my mother and father she would often eat nothing but a salad and some fruit, and she would start off immediately afterwards on one of her exhausting walks, skimming over the ground like a restless, beautiful wraith.

The memoirs of His Royal Highness, Prince Christopher of Greece and Denmark, 1938.

#long af post i’m sorry #empress elisabeth of austria #empress sisi #greek royal family #prince nicholas of greece and denmark #prince christopher of greece and denmark

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reikarimaaa · 5 months

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I’m bored and it’s 00:09 at my place rn so here’s some personal Gorillaz headcanons of mine. (and no there’s no specific order so enjoy ig)

// tw: nsfw, long long hcs, I’ll try to shorten these i swear that was a lie , ooc a bunch , oh and RussDoc //

// General Band hcs //

When Noodle was about 10, she’d always sneak into Russel’s (or 2-D’s) room to cuddle up with him whenever it was raining at night or if she had a nightmare.

2-D has the worst eyesight out of the four, even worse than Russel’s for some reason.

Noodle’s hair during Phase 1 (that weird buzzcut) is because of Murdoc’s antics; Russel told him to cut her hair as it was getting too long, and… it came out funky.

Noodle’s iconic helmet is gifted from Murdoc after he failed to cut the girl’s hair correctly. A walkman was also gifted with the helmet.

During the recording of TNN, 2-D just kept writing songs that always tied back to Murdoc; he tried to change said lyrics, but it just wouldn’t work, so he went with it (not that he minds much, anyways).

Noodle and Ace were childhood friends. First becoming friends after about a few months of living in Kong Studios up until the El Mañana incident, which caused them to cut contact for a long while until Phase 5, where they reconciled.

Russel and Murdoc had known each other for a long time before Gorillaz had even been formed, and they’ve been dating on and off during those moments before Gorillaz. Now with the formation of the band, they’re closer than ever.

Russel has given Murdoc a taxidermy of a crow in remembrance of Cortez, though it’s never been the same for the bassist.

2-D had played dress-up all the time during Phase 1 with Noodle; playing princess, having tea parties, even sleepovers!

When Noodle had her first period, Murdoc was confused as hell (and was briefly disgusted), 2-D was more curious as to why and how, and Russel just became the dad, buying her chocolate, bringing hot water bottles to relieve any pain, and he even buys her tampons and pads if she ran out (true dad indeed). Applies to every phase basically.

Del likes to play with Noodle whenever Russel lets him. It’s quite the sight, a little Noodle being taught how to gamble by one of the funkyphantoms living inside Russel’s body.

// Band members x S/O //

When you asked 2-D for help with doing the laundry, he accidentally poured in crack instead of detergent in the washing machine. Your clothes that were unlucky enough to be washed in that washing machine 2-D used reeked of drugs for a long while, and 2-D apologized profusely and even bought you new ones to replace the old ones.

2-D definitely likes it best when you walk together in a park holding/ linking hands; he feels that there’s a bond forming (and he won’t bump everywhere as he can’t see well at all).

2-D asked you out to the local chippy during your first date with him, and he tried his best to impress you, all calm and prepared and all. It’s just that special 2-D charm that always gets you.

Murdoc, who successfully coaxed you into entering his Winnebago with him, realized that it was all messy and definitely made your skin crawl. He tries to quickly clean it up, but it fails. At least he gave you a big, fat barrage of apologies and hugs for the mess.

Murdoc definitely does not do/ enjoy PDA very much, but whenever there’s S/O’s ex/ enemy nearby, he’d get all close and cuddly to you all of a sudden. You like it when he’s like this.

Murdoc would definitely take you to a fancy-enough pub for your first date with him; he even took a shower and he wasn’t too rude to everyone involved, and it was all just to impress you! If that isn’t dedicated, you didn’t know what was.

Russel… he accidentally spilled some animal blood on you when he was doing one his taxidermy projects. You said it was only a small splatter, but he offered to clean it squeaky clean, even if it isn’t very noticeable at best.

Russel likes long, cold walks during winter with you. He always says that the snowflakes falling are like you dancing and falling from above.

Russel during the first date would take you out for a picnic in the park, or perhaps a midnight stargazing experience with him. He’s more of a person who’s enjoy doing these little things with you, and it warms your heart. It does, really.

Noodle would collect little things like seashells or little scraps of things to make you a pretty bracelet/ ring/ necklace out of. Noodle broke one of these that she gave you earlier in the day/ month/ year on accident, and she treated you like a queen for the rest of the day, even if you try to convince her that it’s no big deal.

Noodle likes to go out and adventure with you into the woods, a creek, places like that and such in search of memories and little bits and bobs.

Noodle took you out to out to dinner at her place, as she thinks that this’ll impress you, and it did; her room was tidy, the food was amazing, and Noodle was just all around perfect. You couldn’t take your eyes off her, not even for a minute.

// Nsfw shit below //

Whenever Murdoc just wouldn’t shut up at times when Russel was too tired to have sex in bed, he would just let his cock sit in the bassist’s mouth; a semi-replacement for sex when the drummer’s too tired to do so.

2-D masturbates quite often, and whenever he comes, it’s always a fuckfest; his nice, clean sheets have these stains, and they’re permanent stains, mind you.

**Applies to phase 5 Noodle and above** Noodle enjoys self-care, and has quite the array of dildos at her fingertips. Usually uses them to relieve period cramps; she’s read somewhere that sex can, and it does the job well, for cramp relief or simple pleasure.

Russel absolutely dominates Murdoc in bed, but sometimes the roles are reversed. Murdoc and Russel definitely likes it when they degrade and fill each other up. (Breedy breedy degradation kink who???)

yeah there’s not much down here, but I’ll definitely try.

— hearts, Harami

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lorifragolina · 1 month

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You don't want a lot but you deserve it

This is my first contribution for @harringrovemicrofic. I was so excited! Then life happened. I changed job last month and I don't have the time of breath, so I am having a little lack of inspiration... But I tried to do two fics for the challenge. Maybe when I will be more inspired I'll write a better one!

Prompt: Birthday Additional prompt: Max Word count: 403 No tw

Also in Ao3

The thing was, Harrington was a schemer and a liar

He said “I don’t want anything, just a quiet dinner and cuddle on the sofa with you”. Billy believed him, so he made homemade sloppy Joes and bought just a graphic novel - Steve had always bought himself whatever he wanted or needed, and Billy had a hard time finding a little surprise.

But when it was Billy’s turn, he said the same, but Steve literally showered Billy in surprises and presents. He finally got his granpa’s money and they in general had good jobs, so he didn’t mind the expenses.

When Billy turned 20, he faked he just forgot the date, and surprised Billy in his job’s parking lot with a bouquet of 20 red roses and a enormous box, that Billy literally destroyed in front of his delighted coworkers, finding a really expensive vintage leather jacket he desired since they saw it in the shop.

So for next Steve’s birthday Billy invited him to his favorite fancy restaurant for a surprise dinner, and bought a hi-fi that Steve really appreciated, and he thought they just settled down to simple, quiet birthdays.

But when Billy turned 25, Steve brang Max and the kids to California for spring break, and Billy really screamed of joy when Max suddenly appeared singing happy birthday. Well, he wasn’t so happy seeing Sinclair and Henderson, but Jane and Will were quite ok. Then all together ran to the garage where Billy found his flaming new motorcycle and two helmets.

When Billy turned 28, Steve booked a trip to Thailand, another of their wildest dreams, and Billy spent almost all the time racking his brain on how to return the surprise.

He found a vintage Fender for Steve’s 30th birthday but it wasn’t the right kind of surprise; finally, the next year, he had the perfect idea, he rented a ranch in the mountain, Steve always talked about living in the interior in the woods. The house would be free just in time for Steve’s birthday so Billy was completely sure that Steve couldn’t beat it.

That year, for Billy’s 30 birthday Steve just cooked a homemade dinner, put the table on the terrace with the ocean view with two simple candles.

When he brang just a little box with the cake, Billy felt triumphant, for once.

Then Steve took the little box and knelt in front of him.

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove #stranger things #harringrovemicrofic #harringrovemicroficmarch #hawkinshearts

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casinodove · 1 year

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⁺‧₊ CUPIDITY ─ y!Capitano .

IN WHICH, his lack of control over his cupidity was certainly visible whenever he was with them.

─ sfw , cws for general yandere themes , capitano being deranged , mild dumbification , power imbalance , talks of "owning" someone , misuse of power , somewhat mild violence , toxic relationships , helplessness , slight sadism , mentions of blood n cutting someone's throat , forced marriage

gn!reader ft. they/them prns , 2nd person pov , y!capitano x reader

─ side notes , you've already heard of gentle and caring yandere capitano now get ready for rough, sadist, deranged and bloodthirsty yandere capitano, bought to you by yours truly. Also new layout wow. Not proofread surprisingly

CUPIDITY , (n.) Greed, strong desire

─LOVE CONFESSIONS WERE ALWAYS DESCRIBED AS EUPHORIC, ROMANTIC AND PASSIONATE IN ALL THE BOOKS YOU HAD READ.

It wasn't that huge of a surprise to you when his love confession was nothing like that, you had already picked up on his odd behavior from months prior to it.

However, calling it pleasant, nice, or romantic in any shape or form would be a stretch, for those were certainly the only emotions you didn't feel during the moment. It was empty of all passion, the euphoria was there yet it was there for a bad reason.

─ THE SWORD GRAZED AT YOUR SKIN, CUTTING ONE THIN LINE THAT TRAVELED DOWN FROM YOUR JAWLINE TO YOUR NECK

Although the cut itself wasn't that deep, it was deep enough to draw blood. The fresh wound on the sensitive skin of your neck began to sting as blood dripped down onto your shirt.

─ "Say it"

He commanded, pressing the swords sharp tip a tiny bit further into the flesh of your neck, inching closer towards you.

Your breath hitched and one painful lump manifested itself into your throat, saying what he wanted to hear was certainly getting harder by the second considering that he'd only need to push the sword into your flesh a little more to separate your neck into two pieces.

Swallowing hard, you gathered whatever crumb of courage was left within you and tried to mentally prepare yourself before finally speaking up.

─ "Please put the sword away, my Lord."

Your voice sounded way louder than it should've within his cold study room, which sent you into some slight panic since you didn't want to anger him by being too "demanding"

Despite your pathetic plea, he only twisted the sword ever so slightly, his dark helmet boring through you.

It was clear from his lack of speech that his previous demand stood and that perhaps the only way he'd remove the blade from your flesh would be if he was satisfied with the love confession that he knew you'd eventually make.

─ HIS HELMET STARED BLANKLY AT YOU, LIKE A BLOODTHIRSTY PREDATOR STARED AT ITS PREY MOMENTS BEFORE DEVOURING IT IN A FIT OF BLOODLUST.

It would be helpful for your escape if you weren't pressed up against a wall and well, his sword however escape wasn't what you were planning for the moment, for what currently mattered right now was to get out of this situation with your throat intact.

Taking one last, quick scan of your surroundings you closed your eyes and took one deep breath, bracing yourself mentally and clinging onto the last bits of dignity left in you before he devoured that too.

Putting on your best innocent facade, softening your gaze and looking at his helmet in order to give an illusion of submission you let the lies words spill out from your mouth.

─ "it is true my Lord, that I too have loved you for long. I have loved you for many moons and yet I was fearful of admitting it. I feared rejection, for I didn't desire to be humiliated in such a way. My feelings are nothing but sincere for you, my Lord, and, it is beyond any shadow of a doubt, I'd truly like to spend the rest of my days by your side if you would allow me to."

He tilted his head slightly, searching within your facade eyes for any trace of a lie, yet instead of slicing your neck the sharpened blade traveled to your chin and raised it ever so slightly.

─ "We both know you better not be lying, dove. You are already aware of the consequences lying to your lover and Lord brings, no?"

Nodding your head the best way you could without cutting yourself on his sword you never dropped the act once.

─ "Ofcourse, I.. wouldn't lie to you, my Lord."

You struggled forcing the innocent tone out of your throat the best way you could, fully knowing it was one poor attempt at pleasing his intensifying cupidity.

It truly astonished you how the previous few minutes he was ranting about how much he loved you, about how much he required you to continue living, and then a minute after he was done with that, the blade that was previously barely touching you was threatening to slice your throat as he demanded you to confess your neverending love back to him.

However, even without the sword, there was nothing else you could do but "confess" your totally existing love for him, for he was an almighty harbinger and you were a low ranking fatuu, he could destroy you in more ways than one just considering that.

Yet, you couldn't say you really enjoyed this extra attention from your superior, it truly brought chills down your spine whenever he'd coo things at you as if you were too dumb to understand his big words otherwise. You knew he was wrongly using his power to get what he wanted from you, matter of fact he had done it so many times, yet nobody really cared. Nobody cared about when you were forced into going out with him or forced into helping him on missions, nor when you were working overtime with him and spending multiple sleepless nights due to having to help his lordship.

Simply because he, was a harbinger, a high ranking one at that, and you, were merely a nobody compared to him. And goodness, did he make sure to drill that into your head every chance he got.

─ "Well then, I shall believe you and allow you to spend your days alongside me. Betrayal and disloyalty will not be tolerated any longer from this point on."

He put the sword away, and with one swift move his gloved hand slid the lavish ring onto your finger, the ring felt heavy on your finger not due to it being made out of pure gold nor due to the previous gems adorning it but due to the burden that you now had to forever carry with you by being his lawful partner.

For you knew, the ring was but another mark of clear ownership, and it was that very ownership you desperately wanted to get rid of.

im litteraly going feral over this man rn I can't even

─ casinodove , 22.01.23 .

do not copy, translate nor rewrite any of my works without explicit permission from me !

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #capitano #capitano x reader #capitano x you #capitano x y/n #gender neutral reader #yandere capitano #yandere themes #mild violence #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin au #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin imagines #yandere fatui #fatui harbingers

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