#I just wanted to reblog gifs of tumbles and fun things
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Blankets of Tears
Warnings: knives, mention of stabbing, mentions of running away, cursing, let me know if I missed any :)
Pairings: Diego Hargreeves x reader platonic
Request: Hi :) Could you please write a Diego Hargreeves x Friend!Reader where they're roommates and he hears her crying or smth and he comforts her? If not that's alright <3
(Sorry this took me so freaking long!! Also thanks for inspiring me to write it lol)
Request by: @your-local-questioning-agender
*not my gif*
Summary: Tragedy strikes, and Diego might be the only one who you can talk to about it
A/N: WHOS EXCITED FOR THE NEXT SEASON??? ME!! THATS WHO
Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work
You had known Diego for ten years, ever since the two of you were teens.
He had snuck out of his house behind his fathers back one night and wound up at a twenty four donut shop that your grandmother owned and you worked at.
You had drawn the short stick that day and ended up on the night shift, and having nothing else to do, you had begun stacking a random deck of cards that you had found discarded behind the counter.
You were very delicately placing the last card on the top of the house, when the bell above the door rang, indicating that someone had walked into the donut shop in the dead of night.
The noise had startled you so much that you had let out a little yelp, accidently leaning forward and waving your arm out, causing the house to tumble and fall apart.
At the time, you had let out a string of curses as you had thrown your head back and slapped a hand over your face in annoyance.
Poor sixteen year old Diego had let the door close softly behind him as he looked at you with wide- and slightly terrified- eyes.
You had let out a sigh, rolling your eyes at the boy and demanding to know what he wanted.
When he had told you his order, all the anger had completely left your body when you realized that he got the same thing you normally did, your favorite, and when you told him that softly he had told you that it was his favorite as well.
The two of you ended up talking about everything and nothing for hours, and the rest was history. Your friendship took off from there.
He would sneak off whenever he could to come visit you at work, the two of you eventually progressing to meet up outside of the shop, having fun wherever you went.
You were quick to realize that the shy boy that you had met was not the real Diego Hargreeves, the one that was sarcastic and easily annoyed. The one that cared for his loved ones deeply, even if they didn’t know it. The one who never let his stutter get the best of him.
About four years after meeting, Diego had run away from his home- even though he was a grown adult- leaving behind everything he had ever known. And of course, you hadn’t even hesitated to offer him a place to stay at your home.
At first he had been the hesitant one, thinking that it would be too much of a burden to have another person living in your small apartment. But you had insisted that it was no trouble at all, and he had accepted after that.
One of the first things he had done after moving in was get a job so that he could pull his weight, helping pay the bills and for essentials needed around the home.
Now, ten years later you two were each other’s best friends, as close as siblings.
The two of you decided after all these years that it was still better to live together because you each had weird schedules for your lines of work, and it would also be a waste to spend so much money on a separate place just for you two to hang out all the time anyway.
Diego opened the door with a sigh, tossing his key onto the small table by the door and kicking off his shoes, discarding his knives as well. Last time he didn’t get rid of his knives before fully entering the house you had threatened to stab him with one of them.
To say that it had been a long day would be an understatement.
First he had slept in because apparently you had broken his alarm clock by throwing it at the wall the other day when he wasn’t home when it ‘wouldn’t shut up’, then failed to tell him about it.
Then, Detective Patch was giving him a hard time about being at a crime scene, even though he was doing his best to be helpful to her and everyone else. Which like always, resulted in him getting thrown out.
And of course, it came to an end with the grand finale with his tire popping halfway back home, and costing him a fortune to get it fixed.
He was so ready to just lay on the couch with you for the rest of the night, eating junk food and watching crappy movies as he complained about what a shit day he had, but all of those ideas immediately flew out the window when he heard the sound of sniffling coming from somewhere from inside the apartment.
The man stiffened right away, his senses heightening as he stood up straighter, and began regretting leaving his knives at the door, already halfway to the kitchen.
With no other choice, he followed the sound of the noise, coming to a silent halt when he ended up in front of your door, leaning in towards the wall slightly, confirming his suspicions that the sound was in fact coming from inside your room.
Normally, he would knock and announce his presence before entering- especially after being tramazied the last time he didn’t knock, a book may or may not have been thrown at his head- but he knew something was wrong, and he didn’t have time to be polite.
Slowly, he reached his hand out and turned the handle, before entering the room swiftly and letting his sharp eyes scan the room for any danger.
But the only thing that he saw was you, curled up under a mountain of blankets on your bed, eyes puffy, face red, and hair all over the place.
With wide eyes, your head snapped up at the sound of someone entering, but you relaxed back into your hiccuping state when you saw that it was only Diego.
He didn’t hesitate to rush to your side, “What is it? What’s wrong?” His panicked eyes flew around the only visible body part on you, your face- the rest was covered in blankets.
You let out a sob as tears flowed freely down your face, and Diego was frozen. He had absolutely no idea what to do.
He had never seen you cry. You, who was strong and sarcastic, always ready with a witty comeback and dramatic eye roll, had never in ten years of friendship cried in front of Diego. Not once.
You were still yet to answer his question, and the man was getting more anxious by the second, “Did somebody hurt you?” He guessed, anger boiling in his stomach at the mere thought.
Instead of answering, you let out another hiccup, hurrying to hide your face in the fluffy blanket on your lap.
Without knowing anything else to do, Diego sat down on the bed next to you, rubbing your back up and down in the most comforting way possible.
And he continued to do that for about five minutes as you got all your tears out, eventually leaving you just sniffling and continuing to hiccup.
During this whole time, Diego was practically going crazy with not knowing what was happening. Whether you were okay or not.
“What is it, n/n?” He asked gently, doing his best to keep his voice calm for your sake.
You finally lifted your head to look at him, “N-Net…” You cut yourself off with yet another hiccup, and the man next to you continued to rub your back.
He nodded at you encouragingly, urging you to say what was bothering you.
“Netflix is canceling my favorite show!” You finally sobbed out, practically screaming as you fell back into a fit of hysterical crying.
Diego’s hand dropped from your back, “Are you shitting me?” He asked, standing up. But you continued to cry and he rolled his eyes, turning on his heel and moving to exit the room, mumbling under his breath, “Unbelievable.”
He rolled his eyes as you yelled from behind him, “It’s a big deal!”
Later that night, Diego decided that he did in fact feel bad for his actions and brought chocolate into your room as a peace offering, which you gratefully accepted.
Then he spent the rest of the night listening intently to you rant about your favorite show and why Netflix should be the one being canceled for canceling the show.
You were there when he had needed you the most, and even if he thought it was stupid for you to be upset about this, he knew that he was going to be there for you too.
Umbrella Academy Taglist: @lovanitu @your-local-questioning-agender @jvdethirlwall @ineedmorefanfics2 @sambucky8 @spidyyparker
#platonic#platonic imagine#x reader#tua x reader#tua s3#tua#tua s3 trailer#tua fanfic#tua fandom#diego hargreeves#Diego Hargreeves x reader platonic#friend reader#umbrella academy season three#the umbrella academy#umbrella academy x reader
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I posted 12,266 times in 2022
297 posts created (2%)
11,969 posts reblogged (98%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@nightimestar
@viva-la--resistance
@impala67-aka-baby
@fandomfoodiedancer
@stressedsnake
I tagged 562 of my posts in 2022
#delete later - 44 posts
#asks - 24 posts
#random rambles - 15 posts
#nickapocalypse - 9 posts
#cagepocalypse - 8 posts
#maneskin - 8 posts
#nick cage - 7 posts
#our flag means death - 5 posts
#goncharov - 5 posts
#umbrella academy - 5 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#this is a really interesting thing for me (christian) to read cause like these are some solid points? that really makes sense? i'm confused
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
nick, where's the treasure?
Oh, please. I am the national treasure
62 notes - Posted April 23, 2022
#4
Hiiiii!
Are you open for a tiny request, Love? It's cool if you're not but in case you are (and that's entirely too many words there lol), could you do something fluffy with Remington? Like a movie night with lots of cuddles and fun and comfort? I need a hug lol
I also wouldn't say no to some smut but that's your decision
Anyway, you're amazing <3
Love you
OK I'm sorry it took so long!!! Anyway there might be a fluffy smutty part 2 idk :)
Movie Night
Remington Leith x reader
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: none, just fluff.
Summary: Remington and Y/N have a fun movie night
It had been a week. A long week. The kind of long, endless week that had you lying face down on the couch groaning the moment you got home. You wanted your snuggliest PJs, your best friends, boyfriend, movies and some pizza. But people were busy. And there was work to do. And cleaning. And a tonne of other responsibilities falling down onto your shoulders, and you were exhausted.
When your cat came up to give you an affectionate headbutt, you couldn't help but think why couldn't life for humans be as simple as a house cat? You get fed, loved, you play all day and night and do what you want? It was while you were pondering philosophies and cats that you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket. You frowned. Please don't be anyone important, please don't be stressful, please don't...
Oh. It was your boyfriend, Remington. You shuffled yourself around on the couch, rolling over and barely avoiding tumbling off as you answered the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hey Y/N, how are you doing?” Remington's voice was a comforting sound on the other end of the phone.
“I'm good, you??” You shot back immediately, so quick that Remington got suspicious.
“..Riiight, I don't believe that but I'm not gonna push you right now. I'm actually not doing so good,” he said, slowly, “Today has just been shitty, and anyway I was wondering if you're free?”
“Ah, yeah, when?”
“Um, now? It's OK if not, I get that there's a lot going on it's just that, I dunno, I miss you.” His voice was so soft and sweet and you could almost picture him scrunching up his face a little and rubbing the back of his neck. The image melted your heart. How was he so impossibly cute all the time?
“I'm free, and I miss you too, trust me.”
It had been a few weeks since the two of you had seen each other, Remington was busy writing and recording his and his brother's new album, and you were busy with work and family responsibilities. There wasn't much time to see each other, and it was breaking both of your hearts. But you tried not to think about it, you talked every day anyway. But seeing him tonight would definitely revive you.
“So, got any ideas?” you asked, changing the mood to something lighter.
“Would it be OK if I come over? I just feel like staying in, but I also can't stand being away from you any longer, and I really can't handle another hour alone with my brothers.” Remington laughed a little and you smiled without meaning to, only able to imagine the nonsense the boys had gotten up to that day, let alone week.
“'Course! Just, um, give me a few, OK? I'm a bit of a mess at the moment.” You thought of the pile of clothes all around your room and the stack of dishes.
“Aw baby, you know I don't care about any of that, but if it makes you feel better would half an hour be good?”
“Yeah, it should be.” There was silence as the conversation started to end, then you spoke. “Oh! Wait, would it be annoying if I ask you to bring some dinner? I don't have it in me to cook.”
“Sure! What do you feel like?”
“Ah, surprise me, I trust you.” You smiled into the phone and could just about feel him smiling back. He let out a slight laugh of delight and you both said your good byes and got ready.
See the full post
77 notes - Posted May 31, 2022
#3
this has the same vibes as this
112 notes - Posted April 23, 2022
#2
nick caged
129 notes - Posted April 23, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
139 notes - Posted April 23, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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I posted 13,569 times in 2022
17 posts created (0%)
13,552 posts reblogged (100%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@dingdongyouarewrong
@evilwickedme
@doubleca5t
@wordmage-girl
@intljaystation
I tagged 297 of my posts in 2022
#0 - 2 posts
#oh worm - 9 posts
#pkmn - 4 posts
#:) - 4 posts
#art - 4 posts
#yep - 4 posts
#marvel - 3 posts
#oh worm!!! - 3 posts
#yeah - 3 posts
#purple - 2 posts
Longest Tag: 129 characters
#roman’s? they respect power in that way sure but like reyna’s and jason’s and frank’s and hazel’s powers come a lot from teamwork
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
AND HOMURA I forgor
Homura from PMMM- THOUGHTS: love her to bits, she can do no wrong, she does so many wrong things and i support her doing it, her and Madoka are a very fun pairing, she hits my "black haired, purple eyed sapphic who likes her gf very much" quota
1 note - Posted May 27, 2022
#4
∞ ∞ ∞ (yes, give me 3 :p)
Alrighty!
“Thoughts meander like a restless wind inside a letter box / They tumble blindly as they make their way / Across the universe”
From “Across the Universe” by Fiona Apple
“The loneliest people in the whole wide world / Are the ones you’re never going to see again”
From “Harlem Roulette” by The Mountain Goats
“I thought my heart had learned it’s lesson / It feels so good when you start out / My head is screaming get a grip girl / Unless you’re dying to cry your heart”
From “I Won’t Say (I’m In Love)” by Susan Egan from Disney’s Hercules
1 note - Posted June 2, 2022
#3
oh my god i have crabs
2 notes - Posted November 11, 2022
#2
Uhh don’t really know how to do this but changed the blog username!
“max-armenta” -> “page-vacat”
3 notes - Posted April 18, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Mama just killed a man / Put a gun against his head / Pulled my trigger / now he's dead / Mama / life had just begun / But now I've gone and thrown it all away / Mama / ooooooooh / Didn't mean to make you cry / If I'm not back again this time tomorrow / Carry on, carry on / As if nothing really matters
I want y’all to know this has been sitting in my inbox since August of 2019
35 notes - Posted May 25, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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I got my Tumblr Year in Review! As you know, I always make my own for my personal writing, but it was just so heartwarming to see how many people liked my posts this year that I had to share this with you. Thank you, as always, for stopping by.
I posted 1,459 times in 2021
200 posts created (14%)
1259 posts reblogged (86%)
For every post I created, I reblogged 6.3 posts.
I added 685 tags in 2021
#txt - 318 posts
#important writing updates - 70 posts
#not my writing - 67 posts
#digital art - 44 posts
#monsters - 38 posts
#writeblr - 37 posts
#words - 36 posts
#asks - 31 posts
#writing - 22 posts
#lgbt art - 22 posts
My Top Posts in 2021
#5
yves. Teaches You How To Read
270 notes • Posted 2021-07-05 07:54:07 GMT
#4
483 notes • Posted 2021-08-12 02:56:56 GMT
#3
The longer I stick around in progressive circles the more I’m convinced that the answer to everything is just meaning well and having love in your heart...
705 notes • Posted 2021-05-28 23:28:36 GMT
#2
me when i started writing: oh haha i don't really think about symbolism...
887 notes • Posted 2021-02-04 01:06:36 GMT
#1
Today is Purim!...
4178 notes • Posted 2021-02-26 21:42:24 GMT
Some commentary (longer than the stats):
I was so surprised to see the Purim post up at the top! Obviously I understand why in a logical sense-- people want to be informative and social justicey and all that-- but today I will finally reveal a secret I have been harboring ever since I made this post... it's not Purim anymore!
I never listed the date on my post, and Tumblr is notoriously bad at telling you that sort of thing, so this post tumbled about all year-- since February-- picking up steam here and losing it there. I've seen reblog notifications as recently as yesterday, and I just didn't want to ruin anybody's fun! Purim is my favorite holiday, so if you want it to last all year round, by all means, keep spreading that post.
I am, above all, floored by the response to my blog in general. I couldn't believe that just this year I had put out anything that garnered so much attention-- even if everybody touching the Purim post personally reblogged it ten times, that'd still make over four hundred people who saw it and liked it! Seeing that my How To Read post helped enough people to get 200 notes is absolutely incredible and so reassuring after the work and worry I put into it.
If you enjoyed any of my posts this year, I want you to know that I deeply appreciate your readership and interaction with me. I've messaged so many people (Tumblr doesn't show the amount of love I've felt for everybody!) and answered so many asks, and every one of those sparked so much happiness and gratitude in me every time I saw somebody reaching out. I can't stress enough how happy I am to be in a place where what I write is of interest to so many people. As always, I love you all, and here's to another beautiful year.
Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →
#my 2021 tumblr year in review#your tumblr year in review#txt#There's no such thing as a number too small to celebrate. Thank you so much for reading my work.
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Safe Keeping: Part 4
Summary: Ransom needs you to hold onto his Pinky Ring.
Pairings: Dark!Ransom Drysdale x Reader
Warnings: NonCon, Abuse of Power, Sexual Assault, Swearing, Asphyxiation, NonCon Drug Use, Ransom being an asshole. You have been warned.
Word Count: 2.9k+
Authors Note: This is the end my friends!
I had no idea when I started this “one shot”, that it’d turn into a 4 Part fic. I am proud of myself. I hope that everyone who reads this series enjoys it as much as I did.💙
No Beta, all fucks up are my own.
Reblogs and Likes are amazing! Feedback and comments are encouraged!
Safe Keeping: Part 1 // Safe Keeping: Part 2 // Safe Keeping: Part 3
Knowing you can’t be gone for too long; you splash cold water on your face. Your eyes were red and your face pale. Taking a bated breath, you made yourself leave the bathroom. Maybe there was still a way out? Your mind couldn’t come up with anything. You were at a loss.
Just as you were about to leave you remembered the ring. Bending down to pick it up, you clenched it in your fist. You’d never look at gold rings the same way again.
Upon leaving the bathroom, you found Fran in the foyer putting on her coat. “Where are you going?” you ask her. Your anxiety spiking.
She sent you a puzzled look, “Harlan has his weekly meet up at the diner. Did you forget?”
You bite your lip, heart thumping harder in your chest. You were going to have to be alone with him. That thought terrified you.
You tried to not shake from fear, you clasping your hands together. You mentioned to Fran that you could take Harlan instead. Praying she would just let you take him.
“Don’t you still have Harlan’s manuscripts to organize?” she asked, as she buttoned up her coat. You shuffled on your feet; you forgot the rest of your tasks after you saw the murderous look on Ransom’s face when you dropped his ring.
You clenched your jaw, “Oh yeah, right.”
Sending you a smile as she opened the door, “Hugh is still here…somewhere. You might have to make him dinner. We will be home in a few hours.”
The door shut, along with the hope that you’d get out of this unscathed. Swallowing down your fear, you looked around the foyer for any sign of Ransom. The house was silent. You felt eyes on you.
You decided to grab your cell phone from your coat pocket by the door. Feeling a little more comfortable with it in your grasp, you make your way to the kitchen. You also felt safer being surrounded by sharp utensils, should you need one.
Turning the corner were stopped short by a thick mass of muscle.
Ransom.
You ricocheted off of his body, tumbling backwards. Your phone and his ring slipped from your hands as you landed on your ass.
“Seems like you have a bad habit of dropping things.” He tone was deadly.
You quickly reached to get your phone but Ransom was faster and kicked it across the foyer. He picked his ring up and slid it back on his pinky.
He reached down to grab you but you scrambled away on hands and knees, the harsh floor already leaving bruises. You get your footing before he grabs you and you run as fast as you can to the kitchen.
“You’re only making this worse on yourself.” He yells out heavy on your heels.
Your body felt electrified as you dove for the draw that contained the large carving knife. Just as you get the draw open, Ransom slams against your body closing the draw.
Pain ignites in your hips as Ransom smothers your body into the marble counter top. Adrenaline surges making you fight. You throw an elbow back and up, barely clocking Ransom’s chin, but he stutters, not expecting it.
He grabs your hair in his left hand and painfully angles your head to the side. “You little bitch.” He spits out. You yelp at the sting coming from your scalp. Afraid he’s going to rip it out, you bring your heel down into his instep, trying all the ways you were taught. He wasn’t fazed by your futile attempt and spun you around to face him.
“I warned you and yet, you still couldn’t follow my simple order of keeping my ring in your cunt.” He spat out and slapped you across the face. The impact landed solid as his other hand was still wrapped in your hair. Dizziness took over, your eyes having a hard time focusing as your cheek felt on fire.
Too dazed to realize his actions, you slumped forward as he tied your wrists up behind your back with one of his expensive scarves. You shook your head, coming to when your knees collided with the kitchen floor. You heard a belt buckle clink.
Ransom fisted his already hard cock out from his pants, smacking you in the face with the appendage.
You tried to shift your weight to the side but his big legs were blocking your way, “Uh uh, you’re not going anywhere.” He crowded your kneeling frame into the wall below the counter top as you clamped your mouth shut.
He laughed out, eyes brightening at your attempts at stopping him, “You think that’s going to stop me? You’re so stupid.”
You lips quivered under the pressure you were putting them. Tears stung your eyes as he wiped his cockhead across your lips smearing pre-cum all over. He enjoyed watching you suffer.
“Ok, that’s enough” he says as he grabbed the sides of your face and slammed your head against the wall. The flash of white pain to the back of your skull made you cry out, easily allowing Ransom to thrust into your mouth.
You gag around his length as it hits the back of your throat. As if he could sense your thoughts of biting him, he stuck a thumb into your mouth. His thumb pulled your jaw down all the way, giving him more access and sufficiently keeping you in place. His finger nails dug into your skin making you weep.
Pulling out all the way he watched you suck in a broken breath. It made him all that much harder. His cock found its way back to your throat, bottoming out, feeling you heave around his aching member.
He sped up giving your throat quick harsh thrusts that made your eyes water. Your groans were muffled by his cock as he fucked your head into the wall behind you.
“Ah, fuck. I love seeing you on your knees.”
Thrust, “Right.”
Thrust, “Where.”
Thrust, “You.”
Thrust, “Belong.” He growled out the last word sending chills up your spine.
Your jaw ached at the pressure he was holding it down with, and your lips were puffy from the abuse.
He shoved his length into your mouth one more time but held it, cutting off your air with his cock. You tried to shake him but his hold on you was firm. He won’t let you go until he wants to. He feels your jaw trying to shut, but it barely moves with his hand holding it open. His face was dark and wild. Hard lines etched on his forehead.
You choke harder around his cock, throat convulsing frantically trying to gasp for air. He watches with pleasure as your face turns red, wanting so badly to breath. You pull madly at the scarf around your wrists and shake your shoulders trying to get some air.
Blood rushes to your head making the pain in your skull throb.
A deep voice cuts through the fog, “Look at me.”
Your watery eyes meet his even though they were unfocused from lack of air, “See the spots yet? That’s when the real fun beings”. If you weren’t on the verge of passing out his tone would’ve made you scream.
Drool slipped down your chin making a mess on the front of your dress. Just as the spots he was talking about started to pepper your vision he dragged his cock from your mouth.
You collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud. Your lungs burned as you sucked in precious air, coughing after each breath, spit coated your throat with a thick film.
Just as you caught your breath you feel Ransom crouch over you, a warm hand rubs over your head, almost soothing. You shut your eyes and sighed out.
“Ready for Round 2?” It wasn’t a question.
Ransom grabbed at the base of your hairline and pulled you up on your feet. You wobbled a bit but his hands caught your hip and led you over to the island. Your face met the cold counter top as he bent you over it with a firm hand to your back.
Your toes barely grazed the floor as the marble dug into your hips, the bruises would last a while. He pushed your dress up over your ass and grabbed handfuls of each globe. He lifted his hand, smacking your ass then squeezed the reddened cheeks.
The abuse stopped for a beat, as he looked over your pussy. “Did you fucking clean yourself up even though I told you not to?” he bellowed out at you.
You nodded your head, ashamed that you even thought you could get away with it. He “tsked” at you, shaking his head. “What a stupid girl you are. Maybe this’ll teach you to follow my fucking orders next time.”
Strong hands gripped your hairline, forcing your head back at an awkward angle. You cry out as your neck makes a weird popping sound under the duress. Ransom uses that moment to shove his pinky ring into your mouth.
The ring hits the back of your tongue making you gag at the unusual object. He fastens one hand over your mouth as the other smacks down suddenly on your ass.
“When I tell you to do something, you better follow through or else I will have your ass until you manage to do your fucking job right.” He threatens you as he brings his hand down again with a harsh smack.
His large hand swatted you forcefully on the ass. Over and over. The pain made you wither in place, struggling to get away as he laid blow after blow on your ass, giving you no reprieve. The ring bounced around in your mouth, clinking against your teeth. The metal leaving an unpleasant taste in your mouth.
You cried out as he bruised and blistered your ass. He stopped after 10 excruciating blows.
Grabbing at your cheeks with a hard grasp, he shoved his fingers in your mouth. His fingers tickled the back of your throat, you whined out thinking he’d make you swallow it. You gagged brutally around his digits as he played with his ring on your tongue. “Clean your whore juices off of it.” After another few ruthless thrusts, he dragged his ring from your mouth.
He draped himself over you, pushing you hard into the marble. He licked a line up the side of your neck making you cringe and whine out.
His lips brushed your ear with a hushed but evil tone, “I’m going to wreak this cunt and you’re going to thank me after.”
You cry out at his words trying to shake your arms free again. The knot was tight, cutting off your circulation. You wouldn’t be surprised if your hands turned purple by the end of this nightmare.
You stiffened when you felt his large cock head swipe through your folds. They were soaked with your unwanted slick. His head fell to your shoulder, relishing in the way your pussy rubbed against his dick. He pulls back and spits lewdly on your pussy. The act made you dry heave.
He gritted through his teeth, “Say please.”
Shaking your head, you cry out in frustration. “Come on, be a good whore and say it.” He accents his statement with a sharp smack to your ass.
You yelp and let your forehead fall to the marble, whimpering out in submission, “Please.”
“Please. What?”
You swallow before spitting out, “Please, Hugh.”
He smiles into your neck before shoving his legs between yours, lining up and shoving his cock deep inside your pussy. He hits your cervix on the first thrust, filling you up completely. You scream out in pain at the stretch and the intrusion.
He drags his cock out and pushes back into your tight hole with a firm thrust. He groans out at your tightness. Your hot cunt swirls around his cock, making him rut into you with fervor. Another deep thrust hits your cervix making you cry out.
Ransom stands up, allowing your crushed frame to finally take a full breath. He grabs your hips and pulls you to meet his thrusts. Your slick trickles down your thighs and makes lewd sounds as he takes you from behind.
You cry out at every thrust; the pain never ceases until Ransom snakes his hand under you finding your clit. You tense up at the feeling, not wanting to cum from the abuse he forces on your body.
His fingers glide around your clit, flicking and pulling on it as your cries turn to mewls. Shaking your head, you will yourself to not cum for him.
“Don’t hold back from me, bitch. I know you want to come.” You cry out as he smacks your clit hard. The pain shocks you making your pussy convulse around him. He hits your clit again and again forcing you to cum on his cock.
His thrusts quicken as he feels you tense up. Your body going rigged with pleasure as he lands another smack to your swollen clit making you hit your peak. Your body tingles and spasms around his cock as you cum with a shout.
“There you go. Good Girl.” He grunts out chasing his own orgasm.
Ransom pounds into you hard. Groaning with every pull of his cock, his balls slap against your clit as he feels your pussy slicken up more from your orgasm. He drapes his body over yours pushing the air out of your lungs, making it hard to breath again as he fucks into you deeper and deeper.
He bites at your earlobe before gritting though his teeth, “I’m gunna cum.”
Your eyes go wide. All the blood rushes from your face. He can’t.
Trying to get him to stop, you shout, “Hugh, please, no! I’m not on birth control!”
He growls out, hips starting to stutter, “You think I fucking care.” With that he shoves the side of your face against the counter with one hand. His palm is sweaty on your face, crush you down on the marble.
You cry out as you feel him come inside you with a loud groan. His grip on your hip and face tightens as his body goes rigged. His seed floods your pussy, coating every inch. Coming down from his high, he moves his hips in and out watching as he fucks his seed into your cunt.
“Damn, what a sight.” He say as he pulls his cock out of you and steps back. Some of his seed oozes out of you dripping down your legs. He unties your wrists and slides you off the counter top.
Your back to kneeling on the floor, completely wreaked. Every part of you is sore and aching. You sniffle as Ransom stands over you, “Do you job. Clean me up.”
You despise him.
He can sense your hatred and smirks down at you, “I’m waiting.”
Taking him in your mouth, you lick him clean. The mixture of your fluids hits your tongue, making you cringe. Sour, salty and musky. You swallow it down in a hurry trying not to vomit.
Ransom tucks himself back into his pants and stands there waiting for you to get up.
You push your dress down to cover yourself, not that it matters.
He gets a glass of water and hands it to you. You take it in confusion, sending him a look as he takes a pill out of his pocket. “Take this.”
“What is it?” You ask, not trusting him as you look the pill over in your hand.
The look he shoots you is deadly. “Do what I say.”, His tone heavy with command.
You put the glass down and shove the pill back in his hand, “No. I don’t know what it is. I’m not taking it.”
He shakes his head, “You fucking stupid bitch.”
He lunges at you, taking you in a headlock. He pried your mouth open and dropped the pill in. Clamping your mouth shut with his hand. His threat is simple, “Swallow the god damn pill.”
You try to shake him off again, but it was pointless. You whimper as you swallow the pill, horrified at what you just did.
He lets you go with a shove. Turning to face him you see the irritation painted on his face. “Why can’t you just follow simple directions?” He sighs out at you, “It was a Plan B pill. I certainly don’t want to knock you up.”
You slump to the floor feeling lightheaded. What had you done to incur his wrath?
Standing over you with hands on his hips, full of arrogance, “Don’t you have something to say to me?”
You wrack your brain, other than “fuck you” or couldn’t imagine what he wanted you to-
You remembered now. Your face full of anger. “Ah ah, say it nicely.” As he raises his hand up in warning.
Huffing out, you take a deep breath calming yourself down, “Thank you, Hugh.”
Smiling at your submission, “You’re welcome.”
He points with disdain to your pitiful form on the floor and says “Clean this place up, it’s a mess.”
As he walks out of the room, he reminds you, “Remember, you still have to organize Harlan’s manuscripts.”
You watch him leave with a spring in his step. Not sure if this was a one time thing, or if this was the start to a whole new life working for The Thrombeys.
#safe keeping#my fics#ransom drysdale#dark!ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale x you#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale/you#ransom drysdale/reader#ransom drysdale smut#ransom drysdale fanfic#chris evans#knives out
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THAT’S ROUGH, BUDDY.
(PLEASE DON’T REPOST/REBLOG)
Warnings: heartbreak, betrayal.
Pairing: Zuko x f!Reader
Characters: Zuko, Katara, Aang, Toph, Sokka, Uncle Iroh (mentioned).
Requested: I guess?
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, nor the gif. Credit to the owners.
Summary: Part seven of “destiny is a funny thing”.
previous part
A/N: Hey guys! It’s part seven already! Let’s see how long i can keep this up lol. Have fun reading!
The steaming hot liquid in the pot reminded you of a long time ago. Of a small tea shop in the Earth Kingdom to be more specific. And so did the boy that poured it.
“No one can make tea like Uncle, but hopefully I learned a thing or two. Would you like to hear Uncle’s favorite tea joke?” He balanced a tray full of cups as well as a kettle. “Sure,” Katara said. “I like jokes,” Aang agreed and Toph didn’t seem unenthusiastic either. “Bring it!”
“Okay,” Zuko nodded, serving tea to the Duke and Haru before standing up, holding the tray. “Well, I can’t remember how it starts, but the punch line is “Leaf me alone, I’m bushed!”
The group stared at him. Silently.
“Well, it’s funnier when Uncle tells it,”
“Right ...” Katara dragged out the word. “Maybe that’s because he remembers the whole thing,” And as the rest of the group started laughing, Zuko gave a small smile. “It’s nice to get a chance to relax a little. It hardly ever happens,” Toph said, grabbing the cup Zuko handed her, before he approached Sokka. “Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" Your eyes followed the Water Tribe boy as he walked out, shortly followed by the prince. “What was that about?” You furrowed your brows, turning to Katara. “I don’t know,” She shrugged, sipping on her tea. “Hopefully my brother isn’t plotting anything stupid,”
The Team stayed gathered together around the fire until the sun left the sky and the night broke in.
Soon you were cuddled into your warm sleeping bag, the fire long since diminished. Your brows furrowed unconsciously upon a distant rustle, mind still foggy from your dreams. Drifting away once more, your features relaxed, only to be interrupted again seconds later. Sleepily you blinked your eyes open, trying to see through the dark with a cloudy vision.
It was probably nothing, you thought, turning around onto your other side, and the last thing you saw was the empty bedroll next to you...
Wait.
Empty?
You shot up, getting tangled in the sheets and tumbling over before you caught yourself. Careful not to wake the others, you stood up, looking around.
Where could he have gone? Had he left and betrayed you again? But how would he even get away?
You shook your head at the thought before it occurred to you. Appa! He wouldn’t, would he? You ran towards the bisons sleeping spot, heart beating rapidly, as if you didn’t know what to fear more: Finding Appa gone, or the prince.
Your lungs ached as you rounded the last corner, where you found the bison, fast asleep. A breath of relief passed your lips, walking up to him and crawling the soft furr next to his snout, to which he purred quietly. Suddenly a head appeared above the saddle, prompting a startled gasp from you. “(Y/N)?”
“Zuko!” You hissed, a hand over your chest. “What are you doing here?” The shadow questioned looming over you. “I’m the one that should be asking that question!” You pulled yourself up to the saddle, sick of him staring down at you. He grabbed your arm, pulling you up and finally explained when you landed next to him. “I have the feeling that Sokka might be up to something,” He drew his hood back and furrowed his brows. “Up to what exactly?” You searched his appearance for any indications, but he didn’t give anything away. “He asked me about the war-prisoners today. Where they would be put away,” Your eyes widened. “The Boiling Rock,” He nodded. “Exactly. I have the suspicion that he might try to-”
Your whispers where interrupted by silent steps in the distance and a quiet “Shhh,” from below. You and Zuko shared a look as someone climbed up, and eventually peaked over the rim of the saddle. “Not up to anything, huh?” The prince asked, arms crossed. Sokka fell, with a stiffled scream, his bags content spilling out on the floor. He gave you a resigned look. “Fine, you caught me. I’m gonna rescue my dad. You happy now?”
“No!” You exclaimed, while Zuko took an entirely different approach. “I’m never happy,”
"Look, I have to do this. The invasion plan was my idea, it was my decision to stay when things were going wrong,” The prince raised a brow at his words and jumped down from the saddle. “It’s my mistake, and it’s my job to fix it. I have to regain my honor. You can’t stop me, Zuko. And neither can you (Y/N),” He pushed Zuko aside, beginning to climb up to you. ”You need to regain your honor?” The prince questioned. “Believe me, I get it. I’m going with you,”
“No. I have to do this alone,”
You put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it softly. “No, you don’t, Sokka. We’re all in this together. We’re here for you,” Zuko nodded, motioning to the bison. “And besides, how are you going to get there? On Appa? Last time I checked, prisons don’t have bison daycares,” The boy looked between the two of you, before he sighed, shoulders slumping. "We’ll take my war balloon,” Zuko gestured for you to follow him, before leading the way.
The travel to the Boiling Rock remained silent for the most part.
Sokka had sat down on stack of boxes, while you leaned against the railing. Zuko blasted fire into the tank from time to time, making sure it kept moving. But eventually even the silence got deafening. “Pretty clouds,” Sokka spoke up. “Yeah ... fluffy,” You resisted the urge to slap a hand against your forehead, while Sokka whistled. "What?” Zuko said, giving him a look. “What? Oh, I didn’t say anything. You know, a friend of mine actually designed these war balloons,”
“No kidding,” The prince raised his brows. “Yep, a balloon ... but for war,” Zuko blasted more fire into the tank. “If there’s one thing my dad’s good at, it’s war,”
“Yeah, it seems to run in the family,” The firebender gave him a defensive look. “Hey, hold on. Not everyone in my family is like that,” Sokka held his hands up. “I know, I know, you’ve changed,” The prince lowered his gaze, shacking his head slightly. “I meant my uncle. He was more of a father to me. And I really let him down,” He gave you an indefinable look, but he redirected his attention so quick that you wondered wheter you’d just imagined it.
“I think your uncle would be proud of you. Leaving your home to come help us? That’s hard,” The boy argued, fumbling with his boomerang. “It wasn’t that hard,” Sokka’s head shot up. “Really? You didn’t leave behind anyone you cared about?”
“Well, I did have a girlfriend. Mai,” You bit your lip to keep quiet, waiting for his next words. “We tried for some time but it didn’t work out. It wasn’t what I wanted,” He seemed to have more to say, but Sokka interrupted with a sly smile. “That gloomy girl who sighs a lot?”
"Yeah,” Zuko confirmed, giving you a quick glance that went unnoticed. “My first girlfriend turned into the moon,” Zuko’s brows shot up before he briefly looked into the sky. “That’s rough, buddy,” He said, eyes landing back on Sokka. “What about you, (Y/N)?” You grew stiff, staring at Sokka’s face. “Me?”
“Yes, what about you? Any lovers in sight?” You crossed your arms, taking a moment to think. Zuko’s burning eyes roamed over your silhouette, but you didn’t dare meet his eyes. “No,” You answered eventually, lowering your head. “No one,”
By nightfall Sokka had fallen asleep, preventing you to do so with his loud snores.
Zuko was busying himself with keeping the tank full, while you took a look out in the distance.
“There it is!” You alerted the others, pointing towards the large construction. The Water Tribe boy awakened from his slumber, staggering over to see it. ”There’s plenty of steam to keep us covered. As long as we’re quiet, we should be able to navigate through it without being caught,” Zuko plotted. But as you entered the volcano’s steam, the balloon began to lose altitude quickly. “We’re going down! The balloon’s not working anymore!” Zuko blasted fire up into the balloon, but with no avail. “The air outside is just as hot as the air inside so we can’t fly!” You said, grabbing his arm to stop him. “So what are we supposed to do?” His gaze flew from you to Sokka. “I don’t know!” He said. “Crash-landing?”
The balloon skidded along the boiling water, splashing Sokka’s hand, which he shook while you put a hand over his mouth to keep him from screaming. Your aircraft hit the base of the rock, throwing you out in the process. You moaned, getting up and rubbed your sore hip. “How are we gonna get off the island if the balloon won’t work?” Zuko groaned, looking at the destroyed object. Sokka seemed to be more optimistic. “We’ll figure something out! I suspected it might be a one-way ticket,” The fire bender furrowed his brows. “You knew this would happen and you wanted to come anyway?”
“My dad might be here! I had to come and see!” Sokka walked towards the destroyed remains of the balloon. “Uncle always said I never thought things through. But this ... this is just crazy!”
“Hey, I never wanted you to come along in the first place! And for the record, I always think things through! But my plans haven’t exactly worked, so this time, I’m playing it by ear. So there,” He said gathering the balloon and throwing it into the water. ”What are you doing?”
“It doesn’t work anyway,” He shrugged. “And we don’t want anyone to find it,” You sighed. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” You turned towards the prison. “There’s no turning back now,”
By the time the sun came up, the three of you had found a supply room, stacked with reserve guard uniforms.
“I hope these disguises work,” Zuko said, voice muffled by the mask. “We just need to lay low and find my dad as soon as possible,” Sokka said, blue orbs peaking out of the slit. They were just as beautiful as Katara’s. Your head whipped around whe a series of guards ran by, one coming back to look at your team. “Guards! There’s a scuffle in the yard. Come on,” He gestured wildly. Prisoners were gathered in the yard, forming a circle as the guards moved through to the inside.
“I didn’t do anything! I’m going back to my cell,” A tall man called, as a guard whipped fire in his direction. “Stop right there, Chit Sang,” Zuko tried to approach, but your hand shot forward to stop him. “We can’t blow our cover,” You whispered.
“I’ve had it with your unruly behavior!” The guard yelled, getting more riled up by the second. “What did I do?” Chit Sang asked. “He wants to know what he did,” The guard gloated, looking at you. ”Isn’t that cute?" His face grew sour when none of you answered and your tongue felt tied, prompting you to nudge Zuko in the side. “Uh, very cute, sir,”
“Super cute,” Sokka added. The guard walked up to Chit Sang, getting into his face. “You didn’t bow down when I walked by, Chit Sang!” The man looked confused. “What? That’s not a prison rule,”
“Do it!”
“Make me,” The guard growled walking away, but not without whipping fire at the male. Chit Sang blocked it, redirecting the flame to its owner, who broke it with a kick. “Tsk, tsk. Firebending is prohibited. You’re going in the cooler,” He ordered. “You! Help me take him in,”
“Meet back here in an hour,” Sokka whispered to you and Zuko before following the command.
But you didn’t meet in an hour.
In fact, not even you and Zuko managed to stay together, soon being pulled into two different directions due to commands. While you ended up in the weaponry, you had no idea were the others went. “Not your first time doing this, huh?” A guard leaned against the wall next to you, arms crossed. You gave him a brief look, before you resumed sharpening the swords and knifes. “Not really,” He took his helmet off, raising a brow. “How come?” You shrugged, not meeting his gaze. “I’m a non-bender. You need to know your weapons if you want to defend yourself,”
“True,” he inclined his head, taking a knife of his own and starting to prepare it. “I’m impressed. Not many non-benders manage to get employed at the Boiling Rock. Normally they prefer fire benders,” You hummed, grabbing fire the next weapon. “Guess I must be special then,” The guard gave you an amused grin. “You don’t have to wear the mask in here by the way. It’s more of a representative part,” You choose to ignore his comment, instead trying to redirect the conversation. “Hey, can I ask you something? It’s all pretty new to me and I didn’t get to explore everything yet,”
The thought didn’t seem to bother him, featured remaining relaxed. “Sure, rookie. Ask away,” You subtily cleared your throat, attempting not to sound suspicious. “I know the Boiling Rock holds the Fire Nations most dangerous criminals. But what about war prisoners? Do they end up here as well?”
The man shrugged. “If they make it this far... probably,”
“So...” You swallowed. “Any Water Tribe inmates here?” He huffed a short laugh. “You’re pretty interested in those prisoners for a guard,”
“Am I? Shouldn’t I know who I’m watching over?” He shrugged. “I guess so. You’re just very specific about it,” It was time to shut up, you concluded, grabbing a knife. “Well, anyways, thank you for the-” The words god stuck in your throat when you saw Zuko passing by through the window in the door. If you hadn’t been convinced by his amber eyes, then for sure by the time you saw his scar.
“I have to go.” You muttered, subtly slipping the weapon into your pocket. “Hey! Wait up!” The guard yelled rushing after you. You’d just managed to slip through the door, when he grabbed your upper arm. A few seconds later and you would’ve managed to blend in with the others in the lounge. “You can’t just leave. Your work isn’t done yet,”
“Sorry,” you retorted, desperate to reunite with your group. “but I can’t stay.” You rammed your elbow into his ribs, knocking the air out if his lungs. The halls were empty, thanks to the midday meal everyone joined. If you’d manage to lock him into the weaponry you could leave undetected.
You grabbed him, shoving him back into the room and slamming the door shut, before sticking the knife through the handle and using your fire to heat up the metal, sealing it shut. You breathed a relieved sigh as he banged his fists against the door and turned around, colliding with a large chest.
“What do we have here?” The man grinned, locking you in a tight grip that made you squeeze your eyes shut. "I arrive late to the break one time, and there's already trouble," He produced a flame, melting the blockade. The guard you’d locked in opened the door, his face distorted in anger. “She locked me into the weaponry, asked a lot of questions and lied about being a non bender,” He spat, glaring at you.
“Well,” the male behind you said. “What do you want do with this imposter?” The guard snarled.
“Throw her into the cooler!”
tags: @zvkonation @viva-la-millennia @randomness501 @drheinzd @kaylove12 @duh-dobrik @yeetscreetiwannaeat @ ashnkamfeun @hailkyoshi @shortmexicangirl @animexholic @sorrythatspussynal
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"Pick Up"
Drabble
Characters: Chris Evans x F!Reader
A/N: last one for this impromptu series!!! Thank you to those that enjoyed and stick around for this!
WARNINGS: slight angst?? Feeling down?? Idk. Language
Like, Comments, & Reblogs are always appreciated and loved.
Chapter 5
The house was silent.
It was always like this after the men left, they would be back. They always came back. So, why was the silence different this time?
You dragged yourself into the kitchen, setting the coffee maker. You weren't sure what you had expected.
That Chris would stay? Confess undying love?
You shook your head, scornful of your childish hopes, it was a little bit of fun. Spur of the moment thing, you stared at the gloves Agatha had left behind when she hurried to leave with the men, laughing as Anthony and Jeremy cooed at her.
The front door opened and you snatched the gloves up, "I got them!" You called out before you reached the base of the steps pausing.
The door shut with a click, baby blue eyes with a hint of green staring at you. Chris swallowed, he watched as you set the gloves on the small table beside you. Carefully and with care, as if they were the most delicate things in the world instead of gloves.
"I thought--" your voice caught, unsaid words making it difficult to speak as you looked back up at him.
It seemed your emotions were reflected in his eyes as he shook his head just slightly, tongue sweeping out over that plump lower lip of his, "I couldn't." You didn't move as he dropped his bag to the floor. "I wanted to tell you, explain.." He looked at the ground, uncertain.
"I love you." The world held still after the words left, escaping you without permission. You could feel your heart slamming against your ribcage, "it's… if you don't- I can, I mean, you don't have to say it or feel it!" Your voice rose as he stepped towards you, lips crashing over yours, swallowing your words which kept tumbling out as he pressed you against the wall. "It's just, I understand if you didn't, I'm an adult, you know?" You couldn't stop mumbling even as he kissed along your jaw, his hands seeking skin, slipping under your shirt and tickling along your sides. "Chris!" You gasped as he shoved at your jeans, you caught his face in your hands, "d-did you hear me?" You asked, chest rising and falling quickly.
"I said it first," he said, eyes meeting yours. "I meant it, I'm not taking it back or pretending I didn't. I'll move here, continue my work here, you can finish school, what you have left, we can make plans, but I love you Y/N, nothing is gonna change that."
What were you supposed to say to that? "Your shirt is distracting."
Chris laughed, "my shirt?! You should be naked by now!!" He growled, lifting you and ignoring your protests as you clung to him, "gonna have my way with you in your bed!!"
"Oh," it was all you could say as he gripped your ass. "That's… yeah, you can do that."
"Yeah?" He huffed, joy overwhelming him. "Alright. This is gonna take all night and a few days."
"Shut up!!" You laughed.
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Our Captain Got A Promotion {Captain Rex}
pairing: rex x reader
warnings: N O N E, screw Order 66, EVERYONES ALIVE.
request: @lokiarmygeneral: I have been loving your stories so much! May I have a story? It's my birthday on April 20th. I was thinking about Commander Rex and his SO (or crush) celebrate his promotion and their birthday. It can be fluffy fully or with a steamy twist, and I'll leave that up to you. I'm a female, but the reader can stay neutral :). Thank you ever so much! Have a fantastic day and I hope you stay safe and healthy :)
@lokiarmygeneral happy birthday sweets! I hope you enjoy this piece! Also have an amazing day! Stay safe out there! Thank you for requesting! 💕🎂
*rex is so U G H, I’m pregnant*
***
***
Following the events of the Siege of Mandalore and the fall of Sheev Palpatine. The clones have managed to take matter into their own hands and win the war, disabling their chips along the way. Fives was right all along and so was Kix. They manage to give the clones freedom with their discovery. It took Rex and 501st to complete the task at hand but it wasn’t impossible.
Now the GAR has become a body filled with hope for the whole galaxy. It has been an age of worry for every single being but now peace reigns, the Jedi is alive more than ever and the clones bask in their well deserved happiness.
You stand infront of your mirror, taking in your appearance. Today the 501st boys would be going to the 79s for two special reasons. Your Captain’s promotion and your birthday. Two special events for the boys. A knock on your door alerted you of a presence out of your quarters.
The door slid opened, Commander Rex stands there in his pressed greys. He fiddles with his gloved hands until he lifts his gaze to see you. There you stand infront of him, wearing a Y/F/C dress, it reaches just before your knees with no sleeves. Something Senator Padmé has lend you for the occasion.
“You...uh...erm..you look gorgeous” he says striding towards you. Rex stands now taking in your appearance, he usually sees you in your tunics and armor. Seeing you in a different attire doesn’t change the fact that you’re gorgeous.
The man remembers, “Happy Birthday Y/N” he smiles taking something from his pocket. A small velvet box lays on his hand. You stare at the box unaware of what lays inside. “I promised you after this whole war” he says opening the box. A ring band lays inside, your eyes watered.
As he puts the promise ring on your finger, you stare at the band. You remember too, “I have something for you aswell” you say turning around to grab the Commander’s gift. “What’s the occasion?” He smiles softly as he grabs the box. “Well, you’ve been given a promotion” you smile as he sets the box to open it. “About damn time if you ask me” you add as he opens it.
Rex’s lower lip quivers, inside the box lays a jacket. Common thing right? For Rex it isn’t. He remembers he saw it once, on a civvie pilot. Leathery and glossy. Black. Instead this one, is blue and grey. Just like his armor colors. His fingers run over the fabric.
“Come on, put it on” you say helping him out of his grey coat, a black tight undershirt which hugs his toned arms and muscles comes to view. As you drape the jacket over his shoulders he shrugs it on. You can’t help but stare.
“Knock knock! I’m sorry to bother but we have a place to be!” Kix says as he comes to view with the boys following closely. The bubble breaks and you blink nodding. “Let’s go” you smile grabbing Rex’s gloved hand trudging out of your quarters and out of your apartment building.
***
The 501st arrives at 79s, it is filled with clone officers and the 212th along with 104th boys. Rex pulls you closer to his side as the group enters. “Let’s go find a table, Kix and Jesse will take care of the drinks” he calls over the loud music. You nod as Tup and Dogma follow. Rex finds a table on a secure corner for the group to couple in.
You sit with Rex by your side, a figure plops on your other side. “Fives!” the chorus of voice shout at the ARC trooper. The man chuckles as he drapes an arm over your shoulder. In a friendly manner of course. “Well if it isn’t the couple of the hour!” He barks as the boys cheer.
“Congratulations Captain! Or should I say Commander” Fives says wiggling his eyebrows at the now Commander. Rex nods in a thankful way, clearly the attention setting him off. You lay a hand on his thigh, rubbing circles over his knee.
“Now the most important event of the evening! Our officer here! The Birthday Girl!” Kix announces bringing drinks for everyone. The boys cheer as they clink their glasses and downed the drinks. You smile “thank you guys! I’m really happy to have you here. Each one of you” you say earning a smile from each trooper.
Your gaze meets Rex’s.
“Thank you” you whisper nuzzling your face against his shoulder taking his scent. The man grabs your hand softly tracing circles around your palm.
***
As the night passes by with cheers and drinks. Laughing and dancing. The men have gone tipsy leaving you and Rex in your booth. “Are you having fun?” He asks taking in your appearance, his hand coming to caress your face.
“Yes. It is enough, with you” you answer leaning towards his touch.
Something comes to life in Rex’s gaze. His golden gaze turning dark as his thumb graces your lower lip. “Let’s go home, shall we?” He asks and you nod scared of what you say. The Commander doesn’t bother saying goodbye to his men, eager to get home.
Fives and the rest of the company wiggle their eyebrows as they catch you and their Commander desserting them. “Let them have their fun” Fives laughs as the rest of the men keep drinking for themselves.
***
Before the door has even closed Rex wraps his arms around you from behind. One inhale of his musky scent and you want to turn around. His right hand drops to your thigh, pulling up the dress that hangs so loose just above your knees.
You couldn't move even if you tried, like his fingers have short circuited your mind in the best possible way. He turns you around and tumble to your bedroom, his eyes searching yours.
Your lips lock as the trooper takes off his jacket dropping it on your floor. He tugs off your dress. You smile and kiss him back as he knew you would. With your lips you feel his mouth stretching wider than it should, fighting between a grinning and kissing. You’ve done this so many times and it keeps on getting better.
The neon lights that shined through your windows cast an angelical halo over Rex. His golden gaze meeting yours as you each get lost on each other’s skin. The night rages on as your limbs tangle around your bedsheets in a sea of love and passion.
***
When the sunlight baths the room in a glow Rex opens his eyes. Your sleeping form draped on the white sheets. Y/C hair sprawled over the pillow, he admires your sleeping face. He traces your faces softly with his fingertips. Admiring the love marks that have been his doing. Letting you sleep a little long rolls out of bed. Grabbing a pair of sweats which now hang loosely around his toned hips.
He moves softly down the stairs to the kitchen. He moved about the kitchen with the kind of smile on his face that couldn't hide the love that warmed him from within.
Twenty minutes later he had pancakes, raspberries and freshly squeezed juice on the side. By the time he got upstairs you were only just stirring. He laid the tray gently on your table and leaned in for a kiss, feeling a tingle spreading from his lips.
“Mesh’la, I have breakfast." You opened your sleepy eyes and a warm grin spread over your face.
"Rex, you didn’t had to do this" After another whiskery kiss Rex brought up the breakfast tray and set it before you.
“K’uur! I want to cherish you, my cy’are” he said. You smile with a mouthful of toast. The Commander admires your sleepy form. “You are the best Man and I’m so lucky” you say causing Rex to chuckle as he takes a seat behind you. Now you lay against his chest between his legs. You feel his fingers stroke your hair causing to yawn.
“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum” I love you he says in his mando’a tongue, kissing your hairline. “I love you too, my brave Commander” you mumble nuzzling against his skin. The moment remains still, warmth and love oozing your gazes on each other.
***
K’uur - Hush!
Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum - I love you
Author’s Note: I hope you guys enjoy this! This was really cute to make and I enjoyed it! Also I’m sorry if the steamy part seems kinda idk...first time writing something like this and it ain’t the best! But I’ll work on it! Thank you guys for the support! You can leave feedback, I enjoy it! As always reblog and life for more content! Xx
#captain rex imagine#captain rex x reader#captain rex#commander rex x reader#commander rex#commander rex imagines#ct 7567#501st legion x reader#501stlegion#the clones#the clone wars#clone imagines#star wars imagine#star wars#cxptain rex#adri answers
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All A King Should Be (Part One - Tywin Lannister)
Pairing: Young Tywin Lannister x OC
Word Count: 4.1k
Warnings: none yet but we’ll see
Summary: Men like Tywin Lannister weren't made. They were born. His was a mind superior to the realms of men. No one but the gods could create such a thing. Poised for greatness and ready to cease it. Tywin Lannister was born to wear a crown, and she was going to be the one to put it on his head.
Notes: So this story starts Pre-Rains of Castamere, Pre-Ninepenny King. So Tywin is like 16.
This story will be continued on FF.net and AO3, not on Tumblr, but I wanted to share the introduction here too. Both of those are linked ^^ so please go follow there. But like/reblog this to let me know what you think.
“Father,” Tywin growled under his breath. “Must you bring her?”
“Be kind Tywin,” Tytos good-naturedly reprimanded his eldest son. Playfully shoving the stubborn young man in the shoulder, as if that would ease Tywin’s mood. “This is meant to be a lovely family journey to Lannisport, not one of your angry mealtime lectures.”
“The family does not include whatever woman is warming your bed tonight, Father,” Tywin spat with a venom that he made sure the unwelcome addition could hear.
“Tywin,” a shrill voice cut through the air. “Relax, dear. It is only some traders from Essos. This is meant to be fun!”
Fun. Tywin knew Megga’s idea of fun.
Megga was a candlemaker’s daughter, a lowborn woman who had worked her way into his father’s chambers one night after making a delivery of candles on her father’s behalf. It had taken her meer minutes to seduce Tytos Lannister into inviting her up to his chambers under the guise of choosing an arrangement for his next order of candles, and they had not left his room, except to order more wine, for three days after.
She delighted in nothing but possessions. Tytos’s words of affection did nothing for her. Megga’s father’s pride at her rising status did not warrant notice. The attention showered on her by knights and lesser lords looking to be in Tytos’s good graces meant little. Even her newfound friendship with that witch of a woman Ellyn Tarbeck was of no consequence.
Megga spoke one language: gold. She wanted bars of it for paperweights, more jewelry made of it than she could ever wear. She wanted to spend every last ounce of gold that came out of Casterly Rock’s mines, and Tytos Lannister had a mind to let her.
A fleet of merchant ships had docked in Lannisport and asked to speak with the ruling branch of the family. Normally, such a thing would have garnered no response from even such a weak willed man as Tytos, but the fleet held promise. They had sailed straight to Lannisport, and their hulls were still full of all their wears. If they had come from Westeros, that might not have been of note, but the ships had sailed all the way from Essos, all the way from Asshai, without stopping.
Even the usually disinterested Tywin had been intrigued to see what their stores held, but of course, Tytos brought Megga. What should have been a promising discussion of continued, mutually advantageous trade would instead be turned into a one-time spree aboard respectable merchant vessels who would never wish to return to House Lannister once they had met its pathetic excuse for rulers.
“Might I suggest, dear Megga,” Tywin looked around his father to glaring loathingly at the woman in question, “that you refrain from such indecencies and address your liege lords by their proper titles when in the presence of outsiders.”
“Of course, Tywin,” Megga smirked. “I’m happy to know you no longer see me as an outsider.”
Kevan snorted derisively at Tywin’s left hand side. “Brother, peace,” Kevan half-heartedly endeared, “we have the ride home to deal with, lest you forget.”
“Yes,” Tywin mused, “the ride home plus one carriage no doubt. I’m sure Tytos will have to buy one in Lannisport to fit all the goods Megga convinces him to buy for her.”
Tygett, riding behind his elder brothers, chuckled to himself. “And who, pray tell, is going to sacrifice their horse to pull the bloody thing, Tywin?”
Tywin glowered at the thought. “None of us are walking for that wench, brothers.” Tywin assured them.
The party of Tytos, his three eldest sons, his mistress, and a handful of guards rode for their extended family’s home in Lannisport, intent on informing their distant cousins of their presence should they wish to join the group in seeing the traders.
House Lannister of Lannisport was only a few miles from the Rock, and there had never been a want or need to build a castle so close by, simply for the cadet branch’s pleasure. Rather, their seat was a spacious villa, nestled right where the walls of Lannisport met the sea. It was a gorgeous place that Tywin often enjoyed visiting to escape Tytos on particularly agitating days when he could no longer tolerate the man. Tywin knew his extended family well.
“Ella?” Tywin called as he saw his distant relation standing at the road, seemingly waiting for them.
“Ser Tywin,” Ella curtsied to him but didn’t even bother acknowledging Tytos.
“What is this?” Megga addressed the young woman.
Ella diverted her gaze to the candlemaker’s daughter only briefly before her eyes turned back to Tywin. The cadet branch of the Lannister family had been one of the few houses in the Westerlands not to take advantage of Tytos’s cowardess. Lannister was their name Tytos so callously sullied as well. There would be no deference paid to a woman like Megga here, no matter how much she demanded it.
“My lord, the trading ships from Asshai have invited us to join you and have moved to dock just off our shore so that we might paddle out from here.” She said to Tywin. “Everyone else is prepared to leave. They are waiting at the water.”
“Excellent!” Tytos leapt from his horse in a rush to help Megga dismount hers.
Ella waved and called out to a group of boys lingering around the house, and the stable hands came running to take the lords’ horses.
“Tell me, Ella,” Kevan made conversation as they walked to the docks. “Do any of you know what this is all about?”
Ella gave an excited answer, “I would presume that, being from Asshai, they have something interesting like dragonglass, but if they’re making such a grand display to summon us all, I rather hope they have a dragon egg. I’ve heard there are several in Asshai, turned to rock with age.”
“Well, if they have such a thing I’d certainly enjoy seeing it.” Kevan agreed.
They joined Ella’s older sister and younger brother, Arcella and Lyman Lannister, at the docks and were greeted by their father, Lawsen. Three row boats had been prepared, and a small troop of guards was preparing to paddle out to meet their hosts.
Not far off the shore, Tywin could see a group of four large galley ships clustered in the harbor. Traders from Asshai ventured to Lannisport occasionally, but only as one stop of many along regular trading routes. None had ever been worthy of a visit from House Lannister. As a result, Tywin had never personally seen a trading ship from Asshai, but even if he hadn’t known what they came to see, he would have known what he was looking at. There was no mistaking the galleys as the property of anyone but Asshai.
Their wood was almost black against the crystal clear water and looked as dark as the Shadow from whence it came. Sails of gleaming gray billowed out from their mast; if they weren’t flowing in the wind, Tywin would have thought they were made of metal. Intricate carvings, too small in detail to make out from a distance, littered the bow of the ships, each unique from the one next to it. Three of the bows were capped by beautiful young mermaids, but the fourth, the largest in the center, was crested by the head of a dragon, complete with wooden wings folded back along the sides of the ship.
“Well, they don’t call them Asshai by the Shadow for no reason.” Tygett voiced his brother’s observations and chuckled as he climbed into one of the row boats.
Tywin nodded his agreement and followed his younger brother. “Not a traditional wood for a galley, I wonder what they used.”
“It can’t be very fast,” Tygett added.
Lawsen gave the order and his men on the shore pushed them off. Four guards paddled each of the boats: Tywin, Tygett, and Arcella in one; Lawsen with Tytos and his mistress in another; and Kevan, Ella, and Lyman in the boat bringing up the rear.
“Did they say which ship?” Tywin overheard Tytos asking.
Lawsen snorted. “The dragon of course,” he said as if it was the dumbest question in the world, and it probably was.
As they paddled in, two rope ladders were hauled over the expansive side of the dragon ship. “There,” Tywin got the attention of the guards and pointed to where they should go, “But follow after my father.”
It wasn’t that Tywin wanted Tytos and his mistress to mare the merchants’ impressions of them, and if it had just been his father he would have not cared for the disrespect of an heir going before his lord. Yet, with Lawsen present he didn’t want to further undermine his father’s authority. The man already made House Lannister look weak enough without help.
“Are you the Lannisters?” One of a cluster of men atop the ship deck asked.
“Yes,” Tytos called up the ladder as they pulled in close to the ships. “We have travelled from Casterly Rock.”
A slight figure, covered head to toe in black, pushed to the front of the group and flung themself over the railing. With deft hands, they descended one of the ladders down to the boats to greet them, stopping a few rungs above the tops of the Lannister parties heads.
“Which of you is the Lord of this party?” The voice that came from beneath the hood was too high to be a man’s. Tywin thought it odd that a boy so tall would lack any width or bulk, but these were sailors not soldiers, he supposed.
Tytos Lannister stood in his row boat and almost went tumbling over the side as he lost his footing. Scrambling back up with the help of a guard, Tytos tried to sound off with some of his lost authority. “Boy, I’m here to see your captain. I am Tytos Lannister, the Lord of Casterly Rock.”
With one gloved hand still gripping the rope, the sailor hung leisurely off the side of the ship. “Boy?”
With a quick shake of the wrist, the glove fell from the figure’s free hand and landed in the water beneath, rushing down under the ship with the current. An exposed set of long, thin fingers reached up to push away the hood.
It was a woman, a Valyrian woman judging by her frosted hair and purple eyes, and like all of them, she was a beauty to behold.
Pale skin, strong in its unblemished perfection yet fragile in its delicate porcelain tone, was stretched over sharp cheek bones, colored only slightly despite the warmth of the midday sun and her all black attire. The hair behind her ears was pinned up in a twisted knot at the back of her head while a dozen locks came down both sides to frame her face; their shine made them easily mistakable for long chains of silver jewelry. Her lips were small, much like her narrow frame, but they were beautifully pink and perfectly shaped.
Her eyes, though, drew Tywin in. Not in the way bards loved to sing about falling for a woman’s eyes or the way his father lavished affections on ladies about their enchanting irises because it was an easy and appropriate thing to compliment.
Her eyes drew Tywin in with their depth, with their intelligence. They were a dark shade of royal purple, even darker than King Jaehaerys or Crown Prince Aerys. They gave her otherwise ethereal features a sense of foreboding. Her lips were quaint; her frame was petite; her skin was that of a doll; her hair was richly colored; but her eyes were fierce, discerning. Tywin thought, if the shade wasn’t so dark as to hide the wheels spinning inside her mind, he could watch her calculating her next move.
“Tytos,” her voice cut through the air, “was not the name I was told to look for, boy.” She spoke the Common Tongue with a thinly veiled accent that rolled each of her words into the next one, more like song than speech.
“I,” Tytos spluttered, “I don’t know the meaning of this. I am Lord Tytos Lannister of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West.”
“You are a lord?” The woman questioned in a doubtful tone, and when Tytos didn’t immediately respond she returned to the ladder and made to climb back up to her ship.
Tytos sat down beside Megga with a dramatic huff of air. No one else spoke as they watched the woman begin to climb, and Tywin grew frustrated with being so openly flouted. He had not wasted a day of productivity for this.
The guards with him paddled lazily at the water to keep the heir’s row boat from bumping into his father’s, but he was only a few feet further, well within earshot.
“My name is Ser Tywin Lannister, Heir to Casterly Rock.” Tywin carefully stood from his place and spoke with all the authority his father tried and failed to possess. “We were summoned here by the captain of this vessel, and we will speak to him immediately.”
The woman turned while he spoke and looked him over curiously, “Now that,” one of her eyebrows raised in amusement, “I actually believe.”
The still unnamed woman pressed two fingers to her lips and whistled to the men above, “Call for the Captain! They’re coming up!”
Tytos sent his eldest son an appreciative smile and helped Megga up onto the empty rope ladder first.
“No.”
A hand quickly whipped out and blocked Megga’s path up the side of the ship.
“What is this?” Tytos complained at being impeded yet again.
“Your men and the girls are welcome to come aboard, but her kind aren’t allowed on the ship. They cause too much dissent amongst the crew,” the woman sneered down at Megga from several rungs up the second ladder.
Megga was shocked, and even from his distance behind her, Tywin could see she was visibly enraged. “I beg your pardon; I am a guest of his Lord Tytos Lannister.”
“Guest or not, that does not change what you are.” The woman rolled her eyes at Megga’s attempts at defense.
“And what do you mean by that?” Tytos actually sounded as those he’d managed to work up some anger on behalf of his companion.
The woman didn’t even acknowledge Tytos spoke, she continued to address Megga directly, “Darling, you might fool weak Western lords, but I grew up in Lys. I know a whore when I see one.”
Tywin was conflicted. The sheer elation he felt watching Megga’s horror at being condescended to by someone other than himself was weighing against the utter embarrassment of being so openly called out on such indecency. As if Megga hadn’t damaged their reputation enough in the Westerlands or Westeros, now the world would know his shame.
“I-I will not be treated in this way,” Megga spoke utterly aghast.
With a swift kick to Megga’s right arm, the woman sent Tytos’s mistress tumbling back into the boat with a sharp cry of pain. A guard caught her while another steadied the boat against the hull of the ship to keep from capsizing, with Lawsen’s help.
“You will be treated as you are paid to be treated: cheaply, judging by the looks of you.” Purple eyes turned to Tywin, “Forgive me, but if you wish to return home by sundown we really should hurry this along. The whore stays in the boat. If your guards wish to come up, I can have a man wait with her.”
“Our guards will wait here.” The men being mostly in Lawsen’s employ, he answered the woman and settled the matter quickly.
“Good. Then follow me up.” The woman climbed up so quickly that when Tywin blinked she was already disappearing back at the top.
It was an ordeal to rotate the three boats close to the ladder so each of the Lannisters could climb up, but it was made worse by Megga’s constant moaning about her exclusion. “At least we won’t have to worry about being informally addressed,” Tygett commented to Tywin just loud enough for Megga to hear as the pair began to climb the two ladders.
Hooded figures bustled around the polished black deck of the ship, all resembling the woman who greeted them in their clothing. All black with not a color in sight, and every person was covered head to toe. The only distinction between each figure was their size. Making it obvious that, while most were men, there were clearly other women mixed in amongst the crew.
Tytos passed the time waiting for their group to assemble on the deck by trying to lecture the young woman who had allowed them up. His voice demanded very little and came out more as a whine that the woman blatantly ignored.
She was lounging, hood cast aside at her feet, on an ornately carved black staircase that led up to the bow of the ship. Her gaze paid far more attention to her ungloved fingers, which she was examining quite closely, than she paid to Tytos Lannister.
“Father,” Tywin called as he helped pull Ella over the side of the ship. “We have a meeting to attend to.”
The young woman hopped to her feet and pushed past Tytos without a second glance. “Yes, after me, all of you.”
She led them down a short set of stairs along the dingy hallway to the back of the ship and banged her fist on a wide door cut with the word captain.
“Enter,” came a voice from inside.
The door swung open, and Tywin, at the front of the group, got his first glimpse of the Captain who had assembled them.
The older man was a surprisingly slim physique, lacking any real breadth. His muscles were long and lean, just as his frame. His length forced his head to scrape the wooden beams above him, such that he had to duck down to fit in the space when he rose to his feet behind the desk.
Not a knight by any means, but still a war-worn man. His skin was beat to a deep tan by the sun, and scars littered the visible surface of his arms, scaring over in a rough texture that matched the thick callused skin of the hands holding him up on the desk. The man was not a merchant by any means; he was a sailor.
“Ashenna, these are our guests?” The captain finally put a name to the Valyrian woman’s face.
“Yes,” Ashenna gave a low nod, stepping out of the way to allow the entire traveling party to enter the room. “This is Ser Tywin Lannister.” She introduced Tywin to the Captain with a wave of her hand.
The Captain circled his desk and held out a hand to greet the younger knight, which the Lannister quickly accepted. “A pleasure, Ser Tywin. You are exactly the man we wished to speak to.”
Tywin’s gaze narrowed. “Then perhaps you could afford my Lord Father and I the pleasure of your name.”
“Of course,” The Captain turned to Lawsen, who quickly shook his head and directed a hand to Tytos. “It is an honor to be in the presence of the Lord of the Rock. I am Captain Tarik Rogare.”
Rogare. That was a name Tywin hadn’t heard since his days studying with his Maester.
“Where is that name familiar to me from?” Tytos clearly couldn’t recall his own lessons.
The Captain accepted the slight with relative ease. “The Rogare Bank, my Lord.” It was a name every Lord, especially one so rich in gold as the Lannisters, should know by heart. Still, the Captain briefly explained, “My family once ran the largest bank in the world, till untimely deaths saw to its collapse.”
“Oh yes!” It dawned on Tytos. “The Lysene Spring, how could I forget.”
Ashenna, as Tywin now knew the woman to be called, rolled her eyes and slid past the Lannister party towards a solid metal chest sitting in the corner of the room, the only piece of furniture in the room besides the Captain’s desk.
Captain Rogare stepped aside to let her past but continued speaking uninterrupted. “Much of our family still resides in Lys, but my brothers and I have made our names in Asshai. Our fleet controls the waters from the Jade Gate to the Saffron Straits and traverses from Bear Island to Ulthos to the Thousand Islands.”
“Quite an expanse of water,” Tygett commented idly.
“Indeed,” the Captain agreed with a small hint of pride. “Such dominance has afforded us many opportunities for trade and exploration, and of course,” Rogare turned to Ashenna with a wide smile, extending a hand to the chest in the corner, “adventure.”
Ashenna lifted the latch on the chest and hauled open its lid with some effort against the weight.
The Lannisters all seemed to hold their breath. The speculation was over. Whatever had brought Tarik Rogare to their shores and had assembled them in his quarters was to be revealed.
Ashenna pulled from the chest a long, thin wooden box. It was a beautifully made box, carved from what appeared to be driftwood but polished till it gleamed like the sea from whence it came.
Ashenna carried it like a child. Her steps towards the Captain’s desk were slow, deliberate, as if a single jostling of the contents in her arms would mark the end of her very existence. She cradled the box as she slowly lowered it to the empty surface and set it down with a heavy breath that was clearly relieved of no longer having such a responsibility.
The Captain joined Ashenna standing behind his desk and gestured for the eight Lannisters to come closer. Without much thought, the family crowded around the desk. A look of wonder gleamed in Tytos’ eyes that was mirrored in his Lannisport cousins.
Only Tywin seemed composed in the face of this mystery. He stood directly before the box looking on with the calculated disinterest of any born dealer. He was sure whatever was in the box Tytos would demand to have; he only hoped he could negotiate the deal. Captain Rogare could have demanded his right arm, and Tytos would have given it without even knowing what was inside.
“Our dear Ashenna,” Captain Rogare motioned to her, “brought this back to us from her travels. On her return to Asshai from Volantis, she came by way of the Gulf of Grief and, in avoiding a group of pirates, did as no man has done before. She navigated the Smoking Sea of the Doom of Valyria and survived to tell the tale.”
Tywin looked on the woman again in a new light. She couldn’t be older than himself, yet they claimed she was capable of a feat men could only lie and say they accomplished. She was either the greatest sailor on the seas or an utter charlatan.
“She found there, the wreckage of a ship against the side of a volcano, undisturbed even after three centuries; for she was the first to live long enough to see it.”
“And you have brought Valyrian treasure to us before the King?” Lawsen interrupted the story with a look of utter confusion.
Captain Rogare and Ashenna both smirked and shared a quick glance. They looked like the only two privy to a dark secret they were about to reveal before the world.
“The ship,” Rogare reached out and took a firm grip on the top of the wooden box, “was not Valyrian.”
Rogare removed the lid, and the room filled with a collective gasp.
It wasn’t the dragonglass the Lannisters had been expecting or the eggs Ella had been hoping to see. It wasn’t from the Shadow at all, or even from Essos for that matter.
It was a sword, and it was from Westeros. A sword from the Rock itself.
Tywin reached out a hand gently scooped the sheathed blade into his arms, marveling at a sight he had never hoped to see. The scabbard was a well worn leather he knew was not original to the thing, but there was no mistaking the sword for anything other than exactly what it was.
The hilt was a magnificently cast lion’s head, plated perfectly in a gold that remained untarnished even after so many years. It rested atop a beautifully carved crimson handle that led to a cross guard that swirled with design embossed in pure gold, meeting where the blade disappeared with a diamond of gold set inside a ruby frame.
With all the care he could manage, Tywin pulled out the blade, as much to wonder at its craftsmanship as to confirm its identity.
“You found it,” He murmured to himself, running his fingers over the flat edge of the fine Valyrian steel. “Brightroar.”
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Only Tagging because this is Tywin and the only person who loves Tywin as much as me is : @scarhades
#Tywin Lannister#tywin lannister x reader#tywin lannister x oc#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones fanfic#game of thrones imagine#got fanfiction#got fanfic#got one shot#got oneshot#game of thrones oneshot#game of thrones one shot#tywin lannister fanfiction#tywin lannister fanfic#tywin x reader#tywin x oc#tywin imagine#tywin fanfiction#tywin fanfic
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There’s A Woman || Part 2
Part 1 part 5
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Warning: Drunken shenanigans
Gif Credit:@peakypeaky @peakyblindersdaily @themiseducationofb
Note: I don’t know how often I will update this or if I will ever update it again. But the support I got for part 1 was unbelievable. Thank you for that!!! A lot of you asked for a part 2, so here it is.
As always, Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are the cheese to my macaroni writing soul and make my fuckin day!
“You got a wild one ‘ere, Arthur. Best keep an eye on her.” John’s joking voice storms through the door, filling the home on Watery Lane as Polly unlocks it and everyone funnels inside after a long night at the Garrison. John spins you out on his arm into the entry way, having practically danced the whole way home.
“I can’t be tamed, Trouble.” You tell him with a playful wink as you call him by your favorite pet name, planting a quick kiss of thanks on his cheek for the good time before he heads home to his herd of kids.
You shoot a pointed glance at Tommy as you pass to make sure he heard your words too. He’s been hovering around you all night, sighing and trying to get you to have a seat and calm down. You’ll have none of it though, instead you take off for Ada standing near the fireplace, hooking your arm through hers as you both giggle and begin to spin around the room in dizzying circles.
The whiskey rich in your veins, leaving you both hollering and carrying on as you folic clumsily around the small sitting room, until one of you trips and you both tumble to the floor in a heap of laughter against the old rug.
“Christ sakes,” Polly sighs “A’right, off to bed with the both of you before you break everything in the house.” She orders, like a good mother looking after her flock as she pulls the pin from her hat and places it down on the coffee table.
“A’right, you got the word.” Arthur tells you, coming up to you with a slow labored step of his own, reaching for your hand to help you back on your feet.
“Dance with me, Arthur.” You giggle as he helps you stand, wrapping your arms around his neck as a snort gets caught up in your fit, the sound only making you laugh harder. In one swift move, Arthur pulls your arms from his neck and bends down to swing you over his shoulder as you squeal in surprise and excitement.
“It’s off to bed for you, lil’ lady.” Arthur says, moving for the stairs, his uneven drunken steps jostling you about on his shoulder, making you laugh harder as you hang down like a rag doll.
“Fuck sake Arthur, put her down.” You hear Tommy’s frustrated voice fill your ears, watching his black leather shoes come into view from where you hang down near the floor, drunken giggles spilling free with the bounce from every labored step Arthur takes.
You bump up on his shoulder as he takes the first few steps upstairs, snorting loudly as you imagine this is what it must be like to ride a wild beast upside down, but you don’t get far before you feel Tommy take ahold of your arm and Arthur’s too, bringing his brother to a halt.
“You’re drunk brother. If you fall, you’ll break both your necks. Put her down, ey?” Tommy insists, his voice low and unintimidating, but absolutely unquestionable.
“A’right,” Arthurs finally concedes reluctantly with a nod, letting you down slowly on the step in front of him, Tommy’s hands bracing you for good measure.
You steady yourself on the banister as Arthur rises again and meets your gaze.
“I wasn’ gonna drop ya.” He tells you earnestly, before his gaze drifts to Tommy standing beside you both on the stairs.
“I know, Arthur. You’d never let anything happen to me.” You reassure him with a gentle smile, his eyes as glazed and glassy as yours must surely look.
But it’s the doubt you see in Arthur’s gaze, that look that makes him seem so vulnerable when he thinks his family doesn’t believe in him. You want him to know you don’t feel that way, you believe in him, you trust him. After everything he’d done for you, he’s more than earned that.
The insecurity slowly dissipates from in his eyes as he smiles softly at you, running his thumb tenderly across your cheek for good measure.
“That’s right, sweet girl. Come on, let’s get to bed.” He instructs, his hand falling from your face to give your shoulder a quick pat as he grips the banister and slips past you, pulling himself up the stairs.
You meet Tommy’s gaze with a mischievous glint as he comes to meet you on the stairs.
“No,” He tells you firmly in warning with a slow shake of his head, practically reading your mind.
“I want to dance.” You smile at him cheekily, before making your move.
You try to dart past him and back down the stairs, but Tommy snakes an arm around your waist before you can get by, pulling you against the front of him as he starts climbing the stairs, dragging you with him. You giggle and squirm against him, trying to struggle free, but you’re no match for the determination of Thomas Shelby, least of all when your drunk.
You both reach the landing at the top of the stairs, Tommy huffing in frustration as you carry on as if this is all just a game. His hair falls in his eyes as you twist in his arms to face him, undeterred by his unrelenting stubbornness.
“Dance with me.” You tell him eagerly. It’s not a question and the wide mischievous grin on your face says you aren’t done playing tonight.
“Not tonight, you’re going to bed, Vera.” Tommy orders, denying your request as the arms around your waist continue to lead you into the bedroom you share with Arthur.
Moving past the open door, Tommy lets you go as Arthur shrugs off his jacket. Still humming with the buzz of whiskey, you begin to twirl about the room, arms slowly rising above your head as you go, watching your skirt flare out and spin around you.
You only stop when you hear a loud “oofff” and a creak fill your ears. You halt mid twirl at the end of the bed, skirt still swaying around you as you turn to see Arthur lying face down across the bed as if he simply collapsed upon it.
Your hands fly up your mouth as a spill of laughter escapes you with the sight of him. This is one of the many things you adore about Arthur, he’s always fun and amusing, even when he doesn’t intend to be.
“A’right you, time for bed.” Tommy order again as he moves across the room toward you.
“Arthur, tell Tommy to dance with me.” You giggle, your eyes on fire as they hold Tommy’s stubborn pair, cheekily antagonizing him as he reaches for you and you slip your arms around his neck, pulling him into position whether he likes it or not.
“Tommaye…” Arthur mumbles in a low half-sleep slur from the pillow his face is buried against.
“There’s no fuckin music. Get into bed, ey?” Tommy grumbles in frustration as if you’re being impossible. Rapidly losing his patience with you, he tries to back you up toward the bed, but you only counter his efforts by trying to sway softly in his arms, trying to force him to move with you.
Shamelessly amused by the irritation mounting on the sharp features of his face, the storm clouds forming in the blues skies of his eyes.
“Now ya just bein’ mean.” You pout, feigning insult as his face finally cracks a smile that makes his eyes crinkle, seeing right through your attempts to appear hurt as you swat at his shoulder playfully.
Tommy doesn’t let down his guard often these days, but you’re starting to think you might be one of the few people that can still disarm him on occasion, as the arm around your back draws you closer and his other hand extends out to take your own.
“Just one.” Tommy concedes, quickly taking your hand in his own and pulling you tight against him before he sends you spinning out toward the bed without warning. You’re barely able to catch your breath as a burst of laughter spills from your lips in surprised delight, before he pulls you back against the cage of his arms.
And for the briefest of moments, he’s the Tommy you remember from your childhood, the young man who was always laughing and full of mischief. Drawing you against him, your hands lock around the back of his neck as Tommy’s hands settle around the small of your back, as he slowly begins to sway with you. The room settles into a quiet kind of stillness, interrupted only by the occasional creak in the floorboards as you step.
With your arms around the back of his neck, your hands play absently with the shaven hair at the back of his head. The prickly hairs amusing to your numb fingertips as you sway gently together by the faint glow of candlelight.
You lean into the warmth of him, resting your head against his as you watch a smile slowly curl on Tommy’s face, a real one, the kind he rarely makes since the war. It’s absolutely breathtaking to watch as it makes your heart thump a little faster and summons up a grin of your own.
Your eyes find his as you slowly sway together. Those dangerous blue eyes of his, holding you in one of those moments where they pull you to him like an invisible force, more mighty than any you’ve ever felt. It coils and tugs at your belly, drawing you to him, but feels lite on your breath.
You find yourself giving into this new feeling like surrendering to a force greater than yourself as you slowly lean in against his lips. Your touch is soft and lite as it brushes against Tommy’s mouth. You feel his grip tighten around your back on contact, before his lips press back against you. A shot like a spark jolts through you as Tommy kisses you back. Your lips part, a shaky breath slipping past the seam against his waiting pair.
Nerves tighten in your belly as your heart thumps faster, you haven’t been kissed proper since before you were married. And it never felt like this. You feel Tommy’s hand leave your back to cup your cheek, tilting your face slightly as he kisses your more deeply, drawing your top lip into the warmth of his mouth.
You explore the feel of his lips, soft and full against your own. Your touch cautious as you learn the feel of his kiss. Caught up in the moment, you lose all train of thought as you feel Tommy’s tongue faintly glide along the curve of your top lip. It feels warm and wet in a way that makes your belly coil tighter, your breath quicken.
Curious to know what he tastes like too, you mirror his movement, letting your tongue swipe briefly against his bottom lip pressed in the fold of your mouth. You hear a low groan of approval rise up from somewhere deep within Tommy as you do. It’s a sound you haven’t heard in a long time, that suddenly stirs up a memory from years before, during your time at the children’s home, under a very different set of circumstances.
But the affect is still the same, the sound has you feeling on edge as you pull away from Tommy. Suddenly unsure of your actions as your hand presses against his chest as you step away from him.
“Stop.” You whisper, your eyes pleading with him before you quickly look away embarrassed.
Your gaze skims about the room before inevitably drifting to Arthur passed out on the bed and instantly your heart feels guilty for reasons that are hard for you to put into words. There’s nothing romantic between you and Arthur, but your still married to him. And Arthur saved you, gave up the chance of something real with another to keep your safe. Even now, he still stands by you, keeping his promise to take care of you.
You watch Tommy’s gaze dart from you to his brother and back. He doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t make a move toward you either. His face expressionless and hard to read.
“This isn’t right, Tommy.” You tell him, unsure of yourself or what you’re doing.
Tommy nods subtly at you in agreement without missing a beat. Regardless of what he actually thinks or feels you can see he’s not putting up a fight. Those haunting eyes of his are impossible to read as they stare into you for a moment longer, before he turns without a word and leaves through the open door, closing it behind him.
You wipe a loose tear you find trailing your cheek as your wobble about the room, stripping off your layers with whiskey numb hands. Tugging your stockings free of your garter belt, unbuttoning your blouse, shimmying your skirt down your hips. Stripping it all away, piece by piece until your naked in the faint candlelight, except for your knickers.
You’d never do this if Arthur were awake, never do this if the whiskey wasn’t dancing with the blood in your veins, but both stand true tonight as you move on unsteady feet across the room, retrieving one of Arthur’s long undershirts. It feels warm and safe as your pull it over your head, similar to the way Arthur makes you feel. The sleeves swallowing your hands, the ends hanging down to almost your knees.
You move to the bed, pulling Arthurs shoes off his feet one by one, careful – trying not to wake him, before you reach for the blanket folded at the end of the bed and the pull it over him. Leaning over Arthur, you think he doesn’t look so burdened when he sleeps.
You wish he could always feel that way as you brush the sweat matted hair off his forehead tenderly with care. Arthur grumbles affectionately as you fuss on him. Reaching for your hand, he squeezes it lightly, eyes still held closed, half sleep as he draws it near.
“You’re a good girl,” He mumbles genuinely before giving your hand a simple kiss of gratitude and letting you go, drifting back off to sleep.
After what happened you know you shouldn’t, but you do. As quietly as you can with the buzzing in your brain, you sneak out of the bedroom and close the door gently behind you. Moving one room over you knock lightly on the old faded wood.
“Yeah?” Calls from the other side before you turn the knob as quietly as you can.
You stand in the doorway, the door cracked as the subtle light from the candle fills your face. You spot Tommy lying on his bed on top of the blanket. Stripped of his buttons down, lying in only his undershirt, trousers and socks as his face turns to see who’s darkened his door, smoke steadily in his hand. He doesn’t even bother looking surprised to see you.
You don’t say a word, just meet his eyes, staring into the endless seas of blue, leaning against the doorframe awaiting his verdict. He doesn’t give you one though, everything is unspoken as he slowly pulls back the blanket on the small strip of bed beside him. Moving as quietly as you can on the balls of your feet, you close the door behind you and creep to the bed.
You purposefully climb over him this time, watching his face, catching his eyes as you brace your hands on his chest and move slowly across his body. After what happened in the bedroom you need know where you stand, need to know he’s still the man you trust. You’re drunk, the liquor spurs on your bold desire to test his limits as Tommy’s hand steadily pulls on a cigarette, the other resting on his chest as your settle lightly across his waist.
You snatch the cigarette from his hand and draw it to your lips as you lean back on him, taking a slow steady pull from it. You search the loaded barrels of his penetrating blue eyes as you linger there, smoking his cigarette, straddling his waist, daring him to do something about either. Needing to see what you find, needing to know if you can still trust what you believe to be true about Tommy Shelby.
It’s there you see touches of something flicker in his pupil against the candlelight, but he doesn’t move to touch you. Staring into his eyes you find the unwavering grip of his gaze. You find the Tommy you’ve grown accustom to since the war. The one who’s so indifferent with everyone these days, he drives the rest of the family up the wall.
“Find what your lookin for Vera?” Tommy asks with an air of impatience, as if he sees right through your test.
Understands there’s nothing behind your provocative actions, but your inquisitive nature and cigarette smoke. Finding what you needed to see, you hand him back his cigarette as you climb off him. Only then does his hand move, once your nearly free of him. You feel his touch trail lightly against the skin under your thigh, but he doesn’t squeeze at your flesh or try to hold you against him as your leg lifts over his body without a fight.
Tommy looks at you and for a moment he’s just a man staring at a woman, all dark and stormy with thunder and lightning barely contained in his pupil, but he doesn’t act on it. And it’s gone from his gaze as quickly as it came. That’s why you trust him. You claim your special little spot on the mattress and burrow into it. Drawing the blanket tightly around you, snuggled warm, you glance up at Tommy and his heavy gaze waiting to trap you.
You stare into his eyes boldly as you did before, knowing he won’t like what you’re about to say, but you press on anyway.
“I know you’re fixing races and I know about the guns.” You tell him boldly.
You learned from the best. Watching Polly, seeing how she moves. You’ve learned if you talk less and listen more, everything reveals itself in this house. You watch as Tommy’s sharp jaw clenches in anger, watch as it flexes as his gaze heats up upon you. Not the darkness of a man looking at a woman. No, this is the look Tommy gets when his thin patience is tested and he’s moments away from dismissing you entirely.
“I’ll always look after Arthur, but I don’t want to be a good little wife who stays at home, Tommy. I don’t want to have babies. I want you to teach me about business. I want to work with you.” You tell him fearlessly, staring into his eyes, not backing down as you watch as his head slowly begins to shake in dismissal.
“Vera, it’s dirty business and you’re a woman…” Tommy sighs, turning away from you, his gaze shooting up to the ceiling as he takes another long pull of his cigarette. His anger mostly dispersed, diffused by your ambition and the knowledge your dreams are just that, dreams.
His answer frustrates you even though you know you should expect it. Women handled all the business while men were away at war, but now that they’re home it’s like it never even happened at all. Pushed aside, back into homemaking and raising children, back in their place, but that’s not what you’re after.
“All business is dirty, Tommy. The powerful prey on the weak. An’ once you know that, you know there are no rules.” You glare at his profile in frustration for a long moment, catching as his eyes flit your way, before turning your back on him, burrowing into your spot on the mattress and trying to drift to sleep.
It’s only hours later that he wakes you, breathing hard and shooting up in bed. It’s the commotion that stirs you as your eyes open to the sight of Tommy’s back rising rapidly in the bed beside you.
You reach for his shoulder, placing your hand upon it in concern, but you realize almost instantly that was a mistake as Tommy turns on you. Twisting against the mattress in a flash, the unrelenting grip of his hands taking hold of you as his face smothers the space you breathe. Pinning you down to the mattress, his eyes barreling fury down upon you.
“Tommy, it’s me, it’s Vera. It’s ok. It’s ok.” You try to reassure him on a rattled breath. You never stay in his bed all night, you’ve never seen him life this before, but you recognize it for what it is, a nightmare.
“Vera?” Tommy’s desperate breath heaves out against your face, his arms pinning you to the bed. Sensing if you move quick or struggle it’ll only make matters worse, you hold still in his unrelenting grasp.
“It’s me, Tommy.” You whisper softly, your hand slowly, cautiously reaching up to wipe away the trail of sweat running down his jaw to his neck.
Tommy’s forehead lowers to yours, pressing against you and pushing you further into the bed. His face strains from ghosts you can’t see as he lets out a long huff that flutters against your mouth. Your heart hammers in your chest, but you remind yourself you trust him.
Without warning Tommy lifts off you, quickly releasing you before he turns away, his legs moving off the side of the bed as he sits on the edge of it. You watch the prolife of his face contort and strain before he scrubs his hands furiously over it.
You scoot over in the bed until your beside him, resting your head gently upon his shoulder.
“It’s ok, Tommy. I have nightmares too sometimes.” You admit to him honestly. Trying to explain you understand. And not the goulish horrors your mind can conjure up on a whim. These are the kind of horrors that pull deep from the recesses of your mind to the places you try not to remember, but can never forget.
“What about?” He asks you vaguely, his voice unusually deep as if his throat is tight, as his hands fall away from his face and he shoots you a sideways glance.
You let out a long sigh, nuzzling your cheek against his shoulder as you think it over carefully.
“I don’t pray anymore.” You shrug lightly, trying not to reveal too much. “I lost my faith.”
Without further explanation, you reach for him, your hand slipping along his jaw, up to the sharp mountain peak of his cheek, feeling the stubble bristle along your hand as you go. Pulling gently, you draw Tommy’s face to yours, he resists a little, but ultimately you feel him give in.
You’re eyes hold steady, staring into his guarded fortress of tripwires and hand grenades, unafraid and undeterred as you reach for him, begging him to listen.
“We’re the same, Tommy. You and me. An’ if you open your eyes, you’ll see it too… Let me help you. Teach me.” You tell him with utter conviction. You know it with absolute certainty, you saw it the other night in his eyes and you still see it in his eyes tonight.
Part 3
#Tommy Shelby#thomas shelby#Peaky Blinders#tommy shelby x oc#tommy shelby imagine#thomas shelby x oc#thomas shelby imagine#peaky blinders fanfic
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