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lovepookie · 4 months

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₊˚ෆ Promise - p.gw

♡︎ sypnosis: star-football player park gunwook probably can’t play for the rest of the season due to an injury sustained on the field. but more than that, your boyfriend park gunwook is in pain—and you’ll hop fences, run past security, and go to the ends of the earth just to get to him; that’s a promise.

♡ genre: fluff, slight angst, sports fic, established relationship, boyfriend!gunwook, fem!reader

♡︎ 2.0k word count

♡︎ warnings: gunwook in pain, injury, reader crying, cursing, playful threats, pet names, please let me know if there are any you’d like me to add!

♡︎ nano note: it’s wookie’s b-day!!🥳 i decided to go ahead and post this au today because of the sporty themed b-day he has going on! enjoy! xoxo

.♡︎.

You let a blood-curdling scream out as your boyfriend was rolled off of the field on a gernie, obviously uncomfortable, his stupid gummy smile smiling through the pain.

“I-I’m- I’m fucking leaving!” You yelp over to your family and friends in the stands as you’re suddenly up and onto your feet, running over to a security gaurd to beg them to let you on the sidelines of the field.

“He’s- I’m!- Please I’m his girlfriend, he’s hurt!” You plead, on the verge of getting on your knees with your hands clasped together.

You just needed to know he was okay.

That’s it!

That was all!

You were going to worry yourself sick, the tightness in your chest mixed with the taste of blood in your mouth suddenly becoming all too much. It seems you’ve broke the skin on your lips in nervousness, and as soon as you swear things are t asking a turn for the worst, the security guard sighs and moves aside to let you onto the field.

Your eyes shoot open and you’re quick to yell a couple ‘thank you’s’ because oh my god, you could kiss the gaurd right now.

“Thank you so much! I’ll never forget this sir!” You shout as you run down the stairs. Once your shoes hit the grass you’re gone—seemingly just like the wide receivers on the field during a hot game day.

As soon as you get to the openings of the tunnel, more security gaurds are on standby, but they most definitely didn’t prepare for a woman out of her fucking mind to sprint at full speed and straight past them. They all shout and yell after you as you cut through random corners and corridors in hopes that they lead you to the injured love of your life.

Once getting past an area labeled ‘Infirmary’, you’re met with more security, and oh my god there he is.

He’s in pain, sweat dripping down the sides of his temples as he clenches his jaw shut, eyes closed.

“Miss, how did you get in here? You aren’t allowed in-“

And like a light switch, he’s opening his eyes to meet yours.

His jaw unclenches, and his lips are upturning in seconds.

“She’s with me,” He says, and if he wasn’t sprawled out on a hospital-grade inspection table, you’d think he’s in zero pain all of a sudden.

The security gaurds sigh and fidget for a second as they send each other conflicted looks, but they let you in anyway. Still, getting into trouble and facing the consequences of your actions for trespassing is the least of your worries at the moment.

Like clockwork, your eyes are on him and the smile he shoot’s you as you make your way closer. By this time, your eyes are pooling with tears as he scrunches his cute little nose in discomfort—but his smile never faulters.

“Tiny, why are you crying?” He says through a laugh, calling you by the infamous nickname he gave you. It didn’t matter if you were taller or smaller than him, he loved to coddle you.

You can’t help but smack him on the shoulder as you sit down next to him—much to the dismay of the sub-coach and therapists currently in the room.

This definitely gaurnered you a couple side eyes.

Still, his laughs continue as his dark fluffy hair bounces about, his gummy smile causes a warmness in your chest and alerts the caretakers that he was just fine.

“Why am I crying? Are you serious? Why am I crying?!” You repeat loudly, brows furrowed and very angry at how he wasn’t taking this seriously.

Still he laughs, gaze softening as he stares you down and leans over, beckoning you in for a kiss without saying a word. You lean down reluctantly, your lips connecting to the corner of his mouth quickly before you’re pulling away.

“Gunwook, I’m not playing with you. You better tell me your condition right now before I beat it out of you.” You threaten whilst pushing his bangs out of his eyes, your actions in complete contrast to your words.

He giggles again, leaning as best as he can to get another kiss, but only able to make it to your chin. You just stare blank-faced as you eye him and don’t help him out at all in his efforts to reach your lips again.

“Oh, you’re calling me by my name now? I swear I’m fine, it’s nothing-“ He reasons, stars in his dark eyes, clearly very amused at your current worked-up state and the hard front you’re putting up now despite it.

Without letting anymore bullshit fall from his lips, you turn to the physician therapist who you note flinches for just a second.

“Uh- His kneecap was dislocated, we just finished doing a repositioning before you arrived. With some elevation, ice and rest—maybe a bit of physical therapy…he should heal in about six weeks or so. As for getting back on the field, it could take longer.” He states, looking at his paperwork.

You shoot Gunwook a glare.

This was nothing?

A dislocated fucking kneecap?

“What? Tiny, I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt.” He says, adoration in his gaze.

You aren’t convinced.

The doctors in the room aren’t convinced.

“A dislocated knee? Wook I saw you right before you were made aware I was here. Stop being like that-“ You nag, feeling terrible that he feels he can’t suffer outwardly on an effort to stop you from worrying.

He just smiles a very playful smile.

“Mini…how did you get in here?” He says, giggling out another nickname.

Was he serious?

Was this why he was practically shooting you heart eyes? Now it was evident to you that he was day-dreaming about the amount of things you probably had to do in order to get to him.

Boy was whipped.

He was insane.

And you, frankly, were done.

With one swift movement you go to stand and walk out, but he’s quick to try and sit up, grasping at your figure. He doesn’t get anywhere near touching you however, because his quick movements and straining causes a wince to fly past his lips on impulse.

You’re quick to snap back to him, your pettiness no match for your baby in pain.

“Oh my god- Stop moving! Fine! I won’t leave, shit!” You say, coming right back to his side and holding his hand as his nose scrunches back up again.

He grapples onto your hand with his and the warmth from them puts him at ease through the pain. Gunwook allows himself a couple more grimace’s as he settles back down before he’s opening one eye to look at your worried state.

He lets out a pained chuckle again, his fingers now going to lace with yours.

“Hmm, your jokes about swiping my ankles and snatching my knee-caps are off the table now, huh?” He questions jokingly, looking at you again with those curved eyes, the prettiest one’s he could possibly muster whilst in pain.

You sigh but crack a smile at this, your other hand going to clasp at your intertwined hands and bringing them close to your chest as you lean forward on his table.

“No, it’s even more ironic now. Your kneecaps are forreal mine.” You joke back, finally letting a calm energy settle in now that your boyfriend is able to joke around even during the most intense pain.

He just chuckles with pursed lips, letting his eyes close against his high cheekbones that are raising whilst he tries to bite back a grin.

Gunwook was smitten.

Even in situations like this, he felt you were perfect for him.

Yes, he was upset that this probably meant he had a season ending injury with how his sub-coach walked out of the room with a pat to his purple-jersey-covered shoulder, but he was very touched to see you make so much effort to be by his side and be so worried for him.

“Tiny, how much do I owe you?” He asks through closed eyes.

You tilt your head in confusion.

“What?”

Gunwook smiles, finally opening his eyes and looking over at you.

“How much did you pay to get in here? Seriously, who did you pay off?” He jokes, his other hand going up to shield his gummy laugh.

You roll your eyes.

“It’s not funny! I was crying so hard they probably felt pity and decided to let me in finally! Damn! A girl can’t go see her injured boyfriend? You could’ve been on your death bed for all I know!” You exaggerated.

He continues to smile at you, whilst taking in each of your features. It was the kind of gaze that made you shy around him. Your relationship dynamic was more like best friends, but it was at times like these where he made you feel like a giddy school girl.

It was terrible.

“Wah~ You just love me so much, huh?” He asks as his thumb rubs over the top of yours.

You roll your eyes.

“Park Gunwook, you should see yourself right now. You were in so much pain but now look at you…in pain but all smiley…tsk tsk.” You tease back, and he glares at you through pink cheeks.

“Exactly.” You jokingly confirm as he glares.

You let a genuine smile raise to your face for the first time since he was carried off the field after that fateful football play.

He just stays silent as he watches you, then lets a grin grace his face again.

It was like it belonged there.

“You didn’t even make the touchdown.” You mutter, deciding to continue teasing him, knowing he could take it.

He feigns a facial expression of faux hurt, grasping at his heart as he gasps. “Wooow~ So that’s how it is?…wow, okay.” He says, shooting you an all-knowing look.

“That’s okay though, because you still scored.” You say, deciding to be witty.

He looks at you, lips pressed into a thin line and trying not to laugh.

“What? What’s the punch line? That I scored you?” He laughs, completely and utterly enamored and equally irritated with you.

You nod as you laugh out, feeling like the smoothest and funniest person in the world.

“I know, I know! I’m so funny, sexy, and cute!” You muse, flipping your hair back.

Gunwook just smiles at you in annoyance, but he’s quick to nod at your statement. “Yes,” He starts, “…I can confirm you are all of those things.”

And just like that, you’re blushing and sending him a side eye.

He always knew how to turn your jokes back in on yourself. He was always the smoothest in the room.

“Aye~ Don’t sweet talk, you’re not getting out of this. Who told you that you could get hurt?!” You nag, trying to avoid the subject.

And the conversation went on just like this.

When his teammates finished the game with a win and came over to check in on him, he held your hand the whole time. When they left, he continued to conversate with you by his side, and it took his mom coming in for you to realize hours had gone by.

“Alright, thank you for staying with him,” Your future mother-in-law states with a smile, “…we’ll send you the details of which hospital we end up going to.”

“Alright, thank you.” You say and send her a smile, then steal one last glance at Gunwook.

He too was smiling at you already, that loving gaze still on display. You roll your eyes and smile back, waving at him.

Before you could turn to leave, however, he’s waving you over for one last hug.

When you walk over and lean into his arms, he whispers into your hair just loud enough for you to hear; “Don’t worry Tiny, I’ll make sure you don’t have to pay anymore people off to get to me. I promise.”

He was so annoying, maybe irritating at best—and your heart swells.

In that moment, when your cheeks flush and your heart-rate picks up, you know his words hold purpose—they were particularly chosen and uttered with meaning.

“Funny, Wook. Don’t hurt too much without me.” You tease then kiss his forehead when you pull away; making him feel like the baby girl that he is.

Right in front of his mom.

You had no shame.

“I’ll see you later! Promise!” You shout out to him, walking backwards down the hall until you couldn’t see his flushed state anymore.

It seems even through pain and unforseeable circumstances you two would always find each other.

That much, was true.

It was a promise.

2024 © lovepookie

♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

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kristlewrites · 7 months

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“Shoot! Take a Panorama”

CW: semi-public sex, degradation (slut, whore, bitch), oral (m!receiving), slut-shaming, nickname (mamas), dacryphilia, rough sex, but dw aftercare at the end!

PAIRING: TattooArtist!Law x Blk!FemReader

WC: 1.9k

🫧🗯️: Thank you so so much for all the support on my lastest fics, it means alot to me!🫶🏽 uh ive never gotten a tattoo yet, so if the tattoo experience isnt accurate... oh well! I had to watch a video to get as best as i could ijbol. Also way off topic but has anyone watched bottoms, like its probably one of my fave movie releases this year.

MINORS DNI

(Cheese!)

Hand in hand you and Perona skipped down the cold sidewalk. It was just a little past midnight and both you and Perona were all jittery with excitement. While you guys were at Peronas apartment, she had this insane idea that you guys should have matching tattoos. "It'll be so cute!” She squeals, holding up her phone showing some ideas. Searching through pinterest you guys had finally come to an agreement on the design, matching stars in hot pink ink right on your waist. You guys spend about thirty minutes looking for a parlor that's open this late.

“Ohh it's gonna be impossible” Perona sulks, throwing her phone across her bed. Laying down in defeat

“No, look! I found one and look they take walk-ins too!” You exclaimed you show her, her mood quickly changes while she springs up from the bed and starts jumping

“Well let's go!” She shrieks, opening for her closet revealing all different shades of pink and black clothing pieces. She put on a cute two piece outfit and you were ready to go!

You guys approach a small store, built with red brick decorated with neon lights flickering ‘Open 24/7’. Deserted parking lot, with only two cars assuming that they both belong to the employees.

“Is this the right place?” Perona questions.

“Umm, It should be” you reply with a little uncertainty in your voice “It should be fine though”

In sync you guys make your way towards the glass doors, met with a cold breeze sending yall into a shiver.

“Hey what can I do for y'all?” A woman's voice vibrated through the room, capturing your attention. “My name is Bonney”

“We wanted to get matching tattoos.” answered Perona, her arms tangled around yours squeezing them.

“Awh, that's so cute. Give me a minute, I have to tidy up the studio.” Bonney existed the counter and headed into a room towards the left

“Ahhh! I'm so excited” Perona shrills, making her way towards some chairs lined up against the brick wall.

“I know right!” You respond admiring all the beautiful artworks lined up against the wall varying with color and realism. ‘The people here must be really good’ you thought to yourself, sitting next to perona.

Bonney comes out of the room waving to Perona letting her know it's time. “Wish me luck y/n” Perona whispers, clearly nervous but also excited at the same time.

“Law should be ready for you anytime soon” Bonney reassured you, closing the door behind her.

Now that you were alone, you finally realized the severity of the situation. You didn't think about the consequences till now, and how irresponsible it may seem that this was decided just on impulse. But not just that but what about the actual process? Your pain tolerance was below average.

“You can come in now.” you hear a rough voice from across the store. Reluctantly you grab your purse and get up from your seat making your way slowly into the room.

Hesitantly Knocking on the door, “Hello”

The door opens wide to reveal a tall melanated man littered with tattoos from head to toe.

“Show me your design” He asks, not even giving you attention. Pulling out your phone, you show him the design. He pats onto the chair gesturing for you to sit down. You lay down onto the chair facing towards the ceiling while he fishes for his tools. “Where do you want it?” He asks, still searching for his tools.

“Right here” You lower your shorts and point down towards your waist.

He moves his chair towards his desk and quickly starts sketching out the design, “Is this alright?” he asks, displaying his outline, you nod at his impressive work. You flinch at the coolness of the alcohol. Which he wipes down the area of your stomach making sure that it is nice and prepped. He sets down his stencil sketch on the region where you want the tattoo to be, tearing it off gently leaving the ink on your skin.

A few seconds later you hear the intimidating buzzing noise of the machine coming closer. “Let me know when you're ready” Law asks, wiping down the tip of the needle. You nod nervously. ‘Its now or never’ you think to yourself.

You squirm from the contact of the needle converging on your skin, you tense up a little from the pain but with time the pain becomes much more tolerable. It takes no time at all, you finish as quick as you started. He pats down the area of the tattoo with care then gets up “Don't make any sudden movements, I'm gonna grab a bandage real quick” he declares standing up leaving the room.

You reach for your purse, digging for your wallet. But it wasn't there!!? ‘Ohmyfuckinggod; you thought to yourself immediately you sat up “Shit!” you whisper shout from the pain of the freshly inked tattoo. No way you left your wallet at personas apartment are you kidding how does that even happen. You were sure that it was in your purse when you left.

You hear Laws footsteps come closer and lay back down, you're so fucked.He comes in setting down the bandage and running through the aftercare steps. You are not even paying attention, worried about how you'll be able to even leave. “Did you get that?” he asks

“Um, yea.”

“So cash or card?”

“Well about that…I kinda sorta left my wallet at home.”you say “Do you guys take apple pay?”

“No.” he says bluntly

“Well h-how about I cash app you?”

“I'm not allowed to receive tips”

“Pleaseee” you were pleading for you life

He shakes his head no

“Well, how am I supposed to pay you?” you say whining a little bit.

A devilish smirk sneaks up across his face “I have an idea.”

Next thing you know, your knees are on the cold hard tile,tears streaming down your face, nose running, and your mouth is stuffed with laws long filthy dick. He viciously grabs your braids pulling you back, “Do it correctly whore” he seethes

“I-its t-too much” You say sniffling

“I don't want to hear it bitch, you will take it all.” He says while slapping his slimy cock on your face then pushes you back onto his dick causing your eyes to roll back. You continue to suck on his dick, twirling your tongue around the tip. Using your hand to make up for the rest of his cock twisting it round and round. You look up to him with your big brown eyes pleading. And my oh my is he enjoying the view, your crystal teardrops flowing down your beautiful face, you breasts spilling out of your tank top, it's like a masterpiece to him.

He thrusts his dick more into your mouth causing you to choke, “You dirty lying bitch, saying you can't take it all, well look at you taking me in so well” he snickers. Seizing your head he pushes you back and forth, your mouth rocking against his cock, “you need to go faster, I'm getting bored up here” law says. Mindlessly you obey, rocking vigorously on his cock, gagging you go faster and faster taking him whole. He pulls your head once again and jerks your head in a smooth rhythm, your tongue rotating in a fluent pattern on his penis sending him into a state of unconsciousness. Without warning you feel his warm gooey cum shoot down your throat. You open your mouth, rejecting the feeling “Nuh uh don't even think about, swallow it all.” nodding eagerly you gulp it down, shivering from the weird sensation traveling down your esophagus. “Open wide” Law orders, obediently you do just that.

“Ah” You open your mouth wagging your tongue, he sticks his thumb inspecting your mouth.Your face was a wreck, saliva and drool smeared all across your face, nose running, stained trails of your tears.

“Good girl, now get on the chair and get on all fours for me”

Without a second to think, you remove your clothes leaving them on the floor, you jump onto the chair raising your plump ass in the air. (If yall are confused it like those chairs that can retract down like this)

“You filthy slut, your pussy is leaking like a goddamn faucet are you not ashamed?” Law whispers into your making you even wetter. Even when you had just met him, you were already so attracted to him. His deep rough voice, his tall figure, slim long fingers, and his tattoos crawling in every corner of his body. It was hard to keep your composure when he drew the tattoo on you, and now seeing him underneath his clothes was enough to send you over the edge. You have to admit this was definitely not how you imagined this night would go – poor Perona is probably already done with hers waiting for you in the lobby– but you can't say you're mad about it.

Grazing his fingers across your already slimy clit pacing it back and forth teasing at your entrance. He slowly slips his lanky fingers into you, moving it slowly and steady taking in your warm embrace. Going in out into your melty cunt, preparing for his aching dick itching to enter you. Releasing his fingers a smooth ‘pop!’ sound pronouncing itself. Effortlessly he pulls on a condom, gears it straight towards your hole. Gradually, he inserts himself into you returning into that warm enclosure.

“Mmph” your eyes roll back at the fulfilling sensation of his cock into you, pulsing your cunt begging for more. You arch your back a little bit yearning for his whole dick.

“You're such a greedy bitch, arching your back like a greedy little slut. You want me so bad don't you?”

“Mhm” you mutter

“Nuh-uh use your words lil mama or else I won't be able to help you”

“I want it! Pleaseee”

“Good girl” law says in a rewarding tone then grabs your hips violently thrusting into you relentlessly showing no signs of slowing down. You reach the ends of the chair, trying to keep yourself supported from his endless stamina. “Im gonna fuck you so good, your pussy wont forget my dick.”Law grunts as he hits your g-spot repeatedly, it sends you over the edge, drooling spilling from your mouth, eyes rolled back beyond, brain turned to mush. You can't even speak, being an incoherent mess.

“L-law, i-m gonna c-cumm” you mumble out disorderly a trail of spit spilling onto the chair.

“C'mon bitch, come on me like the dirty slut that you are” Law muttered. “Agh” ,without a second to waste your orgasm comes flowing through your body. You shudder at the sensation of it crashing down. Panting hard, Law continues until he himself releases into the condom.

You wake up with your whole body in shambles, ‘what the fuckkk’ you mutter to yourself. Trying to lift yourself up you feel a great surge of pain in your back. You look around the unfamiliar scenery to realize you're not in your bed, or not even Peronas?!?!? Panning your eyes down to the chair that you were sleeping in, the memories come back to you like a flood. “What the fuckkk” you say even louder, understanding the severity of the situation. Law enters the room with a towel. You stare at him in disbelief, you cannot believe what you have done.

“Don't worry about your friend, I sent her home already” Law winks

You raise your arm towards your forehead, hiding in shame of what you have done. You can hear Law chuckling in the background and you just wanna drown yourself.

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thefrogdalorian · 3 months

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The Best of Both Worlds - Chapter Eight

Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU

❁ Series Masterlist ❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁

Word Count: 11438 Rating: General Summary: After a difficult few days of filming The Mandalorian, Din is excited to spend time with you as he finally takes you on your first proper date... Content Warnings: Smooching 👀, alcohol consumption. Author's Note: I was going to post this on Friday but just didn't really feel right after the news, but I'm very happy to finally share this one with you! Big chapter for our dear reader and Din's story together as their relationship to each other reaches a new stage. Next chapter is equally important and she also earns a nickname from Din which is very cute 🥺! Can't wait to finish editing and share that one, too! Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks again to @suresnips for being my beta. Your feedback is always so helpful and appreciated ♡

7. Your Face Hung Up High In The Gallery [Din's POV]

Usually, when a new season of The Mandalorian began filming, Din would feel thoroughly invigorated by the process. Donning his precious beskar’gam and using the expertise he had accumulated through all of his training in the ancient Way to perform stunts helped him feel in touch with his roots. It helped Din to feel connected to the people who had taken him in when he was a destitute orphan, found wandering the streets. Yet, the beginning of filming for the third season had not brought such emotions forth within Din. Instead, he felt rather drained by the entire process.

As he sat there in the back of the car that ferried him the short distance to and from the studios daily. Din was grateful that it was almost the end of the week for his patience was running thin. The shoot for the first episode of the third season of The Mandalorian was drawing to a close, ending in a climactic final act with plenty of fight scenes for Mando. Fortunately, since the day at the zoo, he had felt slightly more settled mentally than he had on the day when he was constantly missing his cues and was sent for an early lunch. The clarity the conversation by the penguin enclosure had brought had calmed his mind, and now he knew with certainty that nothing was standing in his way from attempting to claim your heart.

Despite how well the shoot was going for the most part, there was a certain curly-haired co-star who seemed determined to get on Din’s last nerve. The constant questions and teasing from Peli about how the flowers had been received and the outing to the zoo had been amusing at first, but now they were beginning to irritate Din. Although he cared for Peli a great deal and was always grateful for how much she cared about him and Grogu, sometimes she could grate on Din’s nerves. The talkative, eccentric woman was someone Din knew that he could always turn to for advice, yet he also found that sometimes she could be a little overbearing and eager to give her advice in situations where it wasn’t even necessary.

Din could not wait for tomorrow evening when he had arranged what he thought was the perfect proper first date. Finally, the two of you would be able to spend time together, no work, no zoos, and no toddlers. He wished that time would speed up so that Friday evening would roll around and he would finally be able to be in your presence again. Although there were not too many miles that separated you from each other and despite having exchanged phone numbers, things had been too hectic to take advantage of that fact. To Din, you could have been on the other side of the world entirely rather than only a few minutes drive away.

It wasn’t that Din didn’t want to text; he did, more than anything. But doing so was a risk. What if you asked a question that he could not easily answer? Din knew that it would be incredibly difficult to continue small talk via text, given the gravity of the secret that he was keeping. How could he possibly say he was just about to beat up an entire platoon of Praetorian Guards if you asked what he was doing at work? No, he had to be tactful about how he handled this part of his life. Din would never outright lie to you, but he knew he had to obscure the truth from you. It was a line, however, that he was struggling to tread. The guilt had been eating him up inside, but Din knew this was for the best. He had to protect himself. Din hoped you would not take his lack of frequent texts as rudeness, or a sign that he was not keen on you. In reality, it was entirely the opposite.

With all the physical fight scenes that were present in the season finale, Din needed to be focused and on the top of his game. Despite the clarity that your outing to the zoo had brought, focusing on a fictional fight scene was complicated given the numerous complex emotions he was currently dealing with. For one, he had not been able to stop thinking about the time the two of you had spent together at the zoo the previous weekend. Since he had met you, Din was experiencing feelings that he had been convinced that he would never feel again. Not after Omera, the woman that Din had come so close to allowing himself to fall for before he realised that their ways of life would ultimately prove incompatible.

Din still found that his mind occasionally drifted back there, to Sorgan, the idyllic village where he had laid low for a couple of months with work. Memories of the beautiful woman, with her long black hair and kind brown eyes, flickered through his mind. Din thought fondly of her, of how diligently she had taken care of him for the short time their paths crossed when his work liaising with law enforcement to root out organised crime gangs had taken him to Sorgan. Coincidentally, it was during that very same job that Din had encountered Grogu. Indeed, the boy had only been in Din’s care for a matter of days when he had been tasked to gather intelligence in that picturesque farming village where he had come so close to leaving his nomadic lifestyle behind and finally putting down roots. He had agonised for the first few months over whether his decision to leave had been the right one. Although it had hurt greatly at the time, now with time separating him from Omera and Sorgan, Din knew that his decision to leave unquestionably was the correct one. Especially when the call with the offer of the role of The Mandalorian came through only a few weeks later.

Since Omera, Din had lived such a solitary life that he had almost forgotten how incredible it felt to enjoy someone’s presence as much as he enjoyed the evening at the museum and the day at the zoo with you. Din knew that deep down, complete solitude was not entirely what he wanted for his life. But it was just how things had turned out, he had made his peace with that. Until you came along.

Before then, Din had been pretty content to isolate himself. It had just been him and Grogu in the peaceful cottage that he had just returned to after the long day’s filming, Grogu already asleep in his arms. Although Din usually relished the quiet evenings with his son, he was quietly glad that filming had overrun and Grogu had fallen asleep as soon as his tiny frame had been secured in the car seat. There would be no dinner and bath time tonight; instead Din carried his sleeping son upstairs, grateful that Iggy had already changed him into his pyjamas once the filming had looked likely to overrun so Din did not have to disturb him. Din placed Grogu gently under the covers, tucking him in and leaning down to press a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Goodnight, Grogu,” Din whispered into the silent baby monitor before he grabbed the baby monitor and made his way downstairs.

With Grogu asleep, Din was struck by the stillness of the cottage. It was dark and soundless. Usually, Din savoured his downtime, the moments he spent alone, away from others. Yet, for the first time since he had moved here, Din began to contemplate another’s presence here. He wondered how it would feel to have you here, in his orbit… in his home. How well you would fit in amongst the stunning scenery, with your beauty. Evening walks with Grogu, returning to the cottage where the two of you would bathe him before you cooked and ate a meal together at the polished wooden dining table. Then you’d cuddle on the couch together, Din holding you tightly in his arms and nuzzling into your hair.

Din shook his head and moved into the kitchen to prepare some food, almost disgusted with himself for how carried away he had just gotten, his imagination running wild. Such a thing could never happen, at least not until Din was more certain that he could trust you with his secret. For his cottage, with all of its proximity to the studios, was certain to provoke a line of questioning from you that he would be unsure that he could answer without breaking his vow of honesty to you.

Truthfully, the depth of his emotions had terrified him. Intimacy like this, actually wanting to be in the presence of another was a new sensation for Din. After so long spent in solitude, it was going to take some getting used to. Din had been alone for so long that he had almost forgotten what it felt to feel like this.

Din had partly kept to himself because he viewed his life as much too complicated to allow someone else into, feeling that it was unfair to involve someone else with how unpredictable and nomadic his lifestyle was. There was also Grogu to consider, especially with the attention and stability that the little boy required taking absolute precedence. Yet, deep down, Din knew that he was terrified of getting close enough to someone in case the day ever came when he lost them. Losing his parents at such a young age left scars deep within Din that he was struggling to overcome even so many years later.

Of course, Grogu had begun to slowly but surely break down the emotional walls that Din had erected around himself. Until he had found the little boy in the attic on that fateful day, Din had not realised his capacity for love. Now, though, another presence in Din’s life was beginning to chip away at those walls with all of the light and warmth you had brought to his life.

Din was attracted to the way you looked. But to him, your beauty went far further than merely skin deep. He found himself more able to relax in your presence in a way that he had not around others for a long time. Despite how much he knew you loved the show – after all, it was the reason he had crossed paths with you in the first place – somehow, it was easy to forget the burden of his secret in your presence. Din was so mesmerised by your intellect and how good you were with Grogu, how patient and kind you were to the little boy despite his nervousness and emotional outbursts. Anyone whom Din Djarin was going to fall for had to care for Grogu, too.

All feelings of awkwardness that Din had felt over bringing Grogu with him to meet you at the zoo had dissipated the second that he had seen you. Din had been fearful of the way that his son’s presence might be misconstrued as a lack of interest or viewing the outing as purely platonic. But you had not had that reaction at all. It had been the complete opposite, you had welcomed Grogu’s presence and been so attentive when the little boy had shown signs of being upset in the frog exhibit. The kindness that you had extended to Grogu in the museum had continued even when you were not being paid to show it, something that had relieved Din immensely.

Seeing you interact with Grogu had awakened something inside of Din, he was feeling strong emotions that he was not sure he had ever experienced at this intensity before. Time spent with you strengthened Din’s instinct that somehow, he just knew that you were right for him and the way you were seamlessly slotting into his life with Grogu was surely proof of that. Din had not spent much time with you but already he knew that the bond with you was something special, something that he had been searching for for a long time. With you, he felt like he finally had found a part of him that he had not even realised he was missing.

That realisation of how quickly you had become so important to him both scared him and excited him in equal measure. Din had to keep reminding himself that he had to maintain some distance and not let you in completely until he had told you the truth. Yet, it was just too easy to let his guard down around you. Although he feared the repercussions of his secret being revealed, never seeing you again was simply not an option. That was why he had enlisted Fennec’s help to plan what he hoped would be an ideal first date.

Given the circumstances behind what was – to your knowledge, at least – the first time Din had crossed paths with you, he figured that there was no point attempting to hide the benefits that his job came with. It would have been a pointless endeavour, considering that you knew his bosses had the financial capability to allow them to rent out the British Museum for just him and Grogu. So, rather than shying away from that fact, Din exploited that benefit to organise a date that he was sure would go down a treat and allow you to look at your favourite painting without the mindless tourists that you so hated.

Din knew that with the date he had planned, he was opening himself up to conversations about how it was possible. But it was a risk he was willing to take. Besides, if you ever alluded to his work Din, planned to say that he had signed NDAs – which was not a lie. It was an easy way to get around any hypothetical questions. Not that you had ever really questioned him on text this week, even when Din had told you he had a busy, draining day at work. Your replies had just voiced concern and hope that he would have some time to relax, rather than pushing for details. Din was relieved that you seemed perfectly content to be in the dark about specific details about his job. Though Din thought that you perhaps would not be so laid back if you knew exactly what it entailed. No, he was sure that you would suddenly have boundless intrigue about what it was like to be The Mandalorian.

Your easy-going nature meant that Din had felt even less troubled about leaning into the privileges that came with his mysterious line of work. So he had enlisted the help of Fennec to arrange something he was certain would mean an awful lot to you. Organising such a date had even been worth the playful ribbing from Jim that Din had received when the two had passed in the corridor. Din was grateful that his helmet had hidden the blush that swept over his features when Jim had remarked: “It must be someone special, first the flowers and now this.” Jim was right of course, the person Din was seeing was very special.

Thoughts of how the date would go raced through Din’s mind that night as he lay in bed. He was excited to see how you would react to what he had planned for your evening. But he was also anxious to see your reaction when he revealed what he had planned for your date. Above all, Din was hopeful that the spark that had been evident in your encounters so far would continue when it was just the two of you. Din’s mind took longer than usual to switch off, but fortunately, it was not an issue as he was not required on set the following day. The late night of filming meant that the morning session had been postponed until the following week and Din was not required on set in the afternoon anyway, so effectively he had a three-day weekend to enjoy.

Din was thankful that the scenes to be filmed in the afternoon did not include him. It was a sign that the show was widening in scope, focusing on a story bigger than just Din’s journey as a lone bounty hunter making his way through the galaxy, as the show had once been. For the first few episodes, Din hardly spoke. It was something that the heads of the studio had been nervous about, wondering whether the audience would form an attachment to a nameless, faceless character who hardly uttered a word. Din was pleased that Mando had proved them all wrong, with the almost universal praise and acclaim that the season had received. He had been relieved too, at how much praise his performance in particular had garnered. Not that Din had sought it out, but Jim and Dale had sent him a selection of glowing reviews to reassure Din. Their gamble and trust in an unknown, entirely inexperienced actor who wanted to remain anonymous had more than paid off.

Now though, the scope of The Mandalorian’s third season had hugely increased and other characters had been introduced. They were mainly fellow Mandalorians that Mando was both allied to and sceptical of. Bizarrely, it mirrored reality for Din as the casting choices had initially irritated him and he had been suspicious of the newcomers. Unlike the casting for the main character, the studio had not elected to cast real Mandalorians, citing budget concerns. Jim and Dale had been equally disappointed, insisting that they had lobbied for real Mandalorians to be cast. But they were so rare, expensive and tricky to negotiate with that in the end, cost had won out.

Their apologies did not stop Din from being any less disgusted that the people walking around on set were pretenders, merely fitted in their beskar’gam by the costume department without any understanding of how sacred each piece of armour was. How centuries of Mandalorians had fought and died to preserve armour such as the ones they were wearing.

Din was silently enraged by the knowledge that these people were just viewing their beskar’gam as a costume, something that could be taken on and off, without any true understanding of the deeper sacrifice and meaning of being a Mandalorian. Din had sought a lot of counsel from the golden-haired woman who led his tribe. She had been dismayed by it too, but reminded Din that he was doing nothing wrong. It was an unfortunate pitfall of working with such a corporation, which had shown little respect for various cultures throughout its history. It was the latest in a long list of such behaviour, and Din should not have been too surprised.

It was all contributing to the sense of unease that he had felt on set during the first two weeks of feeling. Somehow, things felt much different than the first two seasons. It did not help that there was pressure to surpass their immense popularity, either. Din always feared that sooner or later, the bubble would burst, and people would realise that he was not good enough to be The Mandalorian.

For now, those thoughts were far away from Din’s mind as he tried to get his body to sleep. He focused on thoughts of you, the way you looked at him and how warm your body had felt, pressed up against his as the two of you sat next to each other eating ice creams on the bench outside the London Zoo. Din was only hours away from seeing you again, a prospect that excited and terrified him in equal measure. So many questions that would be answered the following day. But, now, it was time to rest…

✯ ✯ ✯

It was fortunate that Din was not required on set, as it was not even six a.m. when Grogu’s cries on the baby monitor roused Din from the peaceful slumber that he had eventually fallen into. He did not grumble or complain, just swung his long, muscular legs out of bed and made his way into his son’s bedroom next door.

“Morning, pal,” Din rasped, reaching down to scoop Grogu out of his bed. “You hungry?” Din asked and was relieved when Grogu furiously nodded. Mercifully, it did not appear to be one of those days where it was difficult to discern Grogu’s immediate needs. “Okay, buddy. Let’s go get you something to eat, I know it was a late night of filming yesterday and you didn’t eat on time.”

With Grogu seated in his high chair, chubby hands happily clutching a serving of his favourite animal crackers, Din took his phone out and debated sending you a text. He knew that you would probably be waking up for work soon, not too many miles away. Din found himself wondering whether he was being utterly ridiculous for pining over you this much so soon after meeting, but then he remembered how his heart sang whenever you were near. With that thought, his thumbs moved to type the text.

Hope you have a good day at work. Remember, Trafalgar Square at 8:30! Can’t wait to see you.

Din read it several times, hoping it didn’t sound too patronising with his comment about enjoying work, especially when his job was nothing like yours. When he was finally satisfied with the text, Din sent it and took a deep breath. Even texting you felt like an event; Din wasn’t sure how he would survive time with just the two of you alone.

Din had already told you of the meeting place a few days before, once the details had been confirmed by Fennec, but an insecure part of him fretted that you had somehow forgotten, or made other plans and would not be there waiting for him. Meeting at Trafalgar Square was hopefully mysterious enough to throw you off the scent, even though the building Din would be taking you to was right there, overlooking the bustling square. Din was anxiously awaiting your reply; mercifully, a certain little boy provided the perfect distraction. Grogu was finished with his animal crackers and was furiously pointing in the direction of the garden, indicating that he wanted to go outside to play.

Din was only too happy to oblige, hoping that a few minutes of running around and playing on the climbing frame by the fire pit, right next to the little outbuilding which housed the gym would tire Grogu out sufficiently that the little boy would want another nap and Din could get some more rest. Instead, after running around, it almost seemed that Grogu had even more energy. So Din took him inside to the small room on the ground floor of the cottage that was essentially Grogu’s playroom. Din dug out some colouring books and the two set about spending the rest of their morning colouring in, a favoured bonding activity that Grogu always seemed to be in the mood for. Din could sense that his son possessed a great deal of talent. For exactly what, he wasn’t sure. But he hoped that Grogu would find it. Until then, Din was determined to nurture his artistic side.

While Grogu was particularly focused on colouring in a mountainous landscape, Din’s phone chimed and he almost fell off his chair in surprise. A morning of running around after his son had rather taken Din’s mind off the earlier text he had sent, but when a reply from you appeared on his lockscreen, Din suddenly felt lighter.

Thank you! Just arrived at work, I have to show some kids around for a tour. Hopefully they’re as well behaved as Grogu. I’m really excited to see you too :)

Reading your words made Din’s stomach flip. The way you had even referenced Grogu caused an ecstatic grin to spread across his face, he squeezed his eyes shut in glee. Din shook his head and returned his phone to his pocket, wondering what he had ever done to be so lucky to find you. He figured he would leave you to your tour and concentrated on the task at hand, colouring books with his boy.

After a couple more hours of art, the rumbling in Din’s stomach signified that it was lunchtime. Din headed into the kitchen and made some sandwiches for the two to share. The weather was warm, it was early July after all and it seemed as though the British weather had finally remembered what season it was, so Din took Grogu outside and the pair munched on their sandwiches outside on the patio next to the fire pit. It was a feature of the house which Din did not often use. He wondered whether he would sit outside here with you on a cooling summer night, the two of you huddled up together on a bench as you watched the flickering embers of the fire.

With lunch eaten and cleaned up, Din attempted to put Grogu down for a nap. Mercifully, Grogu was seemingly happy to get some rest, after his busy morning. His son’s eagerness for a nap gave Din the perfect opportunity to catch up on some much-needed sleep after the late night of filming and early morning thanks to his son’s antics. But as he lay there in bed, Din found that he could not settle. The knowledge of his upcoming date was still causing his stomach to do flips. Despite how drained he had felt after the first two weeks of filming, Din couldn’t help but wish that he was on set today. He was incredibly nervous about the upcoming date. Tonight, it would just be the two of you. There was nowhere to hide, just the two of you together. No beskar, no work and no toddlers. It was an equally terrifying and exciting prospect.

The next sound Din heard was the sound of the doorbell ringing. His eyes flew open and he was momentarily disoriented, forgetting where he was and having no sense of time whatsoever. Din leapt out of bed for the second time that day, panicking that he had overslept. Mercifully, the time on his watch read a little past five p.m. and Din rushed into Grogu’s room, panicking that his son would have woken up without him. He was relieved to see Grogu still sound asleep. Din didn’t have the heart to wake him just yet, so he headed downstairs and was greeted by a familiar hunched figure silhouetted through the glass in the door.

“Hi, Kuiil,” Din welcomed the diminutive man, with his impossibly pink skin, a smattering of white hair above his top lip and deep wrinkled skin. “Thanks for coming, Grogu is upstairs having a nap right now. Figured we could leave him until dinner is ready.”

“Perfect, I’ll get started on that right away,” the old man rasped as he hung up the brown coat he always seemed to wear in the hallway.

With Grogu asleep and Kuiil tackling dinner for the two of them, it was time for Din to get ready. He inhaled deeply in the shower, hoping that the heat of the hot jets as they rained down upon him would calm his nerves and soothe him somehow. The effect was fleeting before that stomach-flipping nervousness returned. He turned the shower off and exited the bathroom, wrapped in a towel to get ready. The house was a lot less still now. Somewhere below, he could hear the sounds of Kuiil and Grogu laughing and the occasional clanking of pots and pans as the old man continued preparing dinner. Din wondered whether the sound of you and Grogu interacting would ever drift through the cottage and greet his ears. Perhaps he would come in from a workout, to find the two of you playing together in Grogu’s room. Or he would descend the stairs in the morning to find you happily cooking in the kitchen, Grogu on your hip. It was such a vivid image that it almost took Din’s breath away. Din knew that he was probably several steps further than was normal for a first date. But then, the way he had met you had been far from normal.

After he had dressed, shaved slightly and styled his hair, Din stood in front of the mirror and raked his hand through his hair for what was probably the fiftieth time. Part of the perk of the helmet was that there was no stipulation for how he had to wear his hair and recently, he had been enjoying wearing it longer. His dark hair was pushed back past his ears, the curls were longer on the back of his head and towards the nape of his neck. His moustache had been trimmed slightly, as had most of the scruffy stubble that was usually dotted along his jawline. Din checked his outfit in the mirror one last time, confident that he had played it just right with his outfit. He was wearing a classic white button-down shirt, the first three buttons undone and pushed open to reveal his bronze skin beneath. The shirt was paired with form-fitting dark brown chinos that showed off his muscular legs, which he worked so hard to maintain with his exercise routine, while not being too skinny that they were uncomfortable.

Din took a deep breath and looked himself up and down one last time in the mirror, hoping that you would like what you saw. He had always struggled to gauge his attractiveness, which was unsurprising given how sheltered his upbringing had been and how much of his life was spent hiding his face behind his helmet. Still, when Din was free to show his face, he had never been particularly focused on others’ responses to him. Sure, he hadn’t failed to notice the occasional admiring looks from both men and women that were thrown his way, but most of the time he had been too focused on a job to stop and explore those gazes further. Now though, with you, he was finally getting to experience a whole new side of himself that had previously remained unexplored. It was an exhilarating prospect, but one that Din approached with equal trepidation. He could not shake the fear that you would perhaps be disappointed in what you saw.

After deciding that he was satisfied with his appearance, Din grabbed his wallet and phone from the dresser and shoved them in his pockets. His phone had not sounded since your earlier text to confirm the time and venue for your meeting and he wondered whether you were going through a similar process to him, agonising over your appearance. He wished that he could text you and tell you that you had no need to worry. For Din, you could wear anything and he would still be blown away by your beauty.

Din descended the stairs and entered the kitchen and was greeted by the adorable sight of his son sitting in his high chair, face and arms entirely covered by pasta sauce. Din smirked at the sight, grateful that he would not have to be embroiled in the clean-up operation that would surely take place while he was out on his date.

“Oh, Grogu,” Din laughed, “I’m going to keep my distance from you, buddy.” Din gestured towards the freshly-pressed, bright white shirt that he was wearing for his date. The last thing he wanted was for a mucky toddler to ruin his pristine outfit.

“As soon as he’s finished with his dinner, I’m going to be putting him straight in the bath,” Kuiil huffed. “At least he’s enjoying it, though.”

“It’s wonderful to see,” Din smiled proudly, relieved that Grogu was actually eating something other than his beloved animal crackers. It was a struggle to find foods that the little boy would try, but pasta with tomato sauce appeared to be something that could be added to Grogu’s list of safe foods.

Din poured himself a glass of water and then took a seat at the table, opposite Grogu and well away from the tomato sauce splash zone. He just enjoyed being in his son’s presence, watching with fascination the way Grogu seemed so enthralled by the textures of the pasta and the sauce that he kept making it into little balls with his chubby hands. It was definitely not the most conventional way to eat pasta, but it sure worked for Grogu and if it got him to explore new foods, both Din and Kuiil were more than happy to leave him to it.

Din also warred with the internal guilt that he sometimes felt when leaving Grogu behind, no matter how short of a time the two of them were apart. Din knew that Grogu was happy with Kuiil; he adored spending time with the older man and the two of them had a truly special bond that anyone who spent time with the two of them together felt privileged to witness. Din knew that Grogu would have a bath, play with his toys and then be put to bed. Din knew that he would be there when his son awoke the following morning. But there was still a nagging guilt in the back of his mind, berating him for leaving his boy alone for something as selfish as a date.

“Din, he’ll be fine,” Kuill smiled sympathetically. The kindly old man appeared to have understood where Din’s mind had wandered.

“I know, it’s not that I don’t trust you, Kuiil. There’s no one I’d rather him be with,” Din sighed, struggling to put his emotions into words. “I feel so responsible for him, it’s difficult to switch off.”

“Listen, enjoy your night with your lady. If anything happens at all, I will call you immediately. The car can quickly bring you back here, but really, I think this little one is worn out,” Kuiil nodded in Grogu’s direction. “Sounds like the two of you had a busy day before I even got here and after some post-bathtime playing, I’m sure he’ll be out like a light.”

“Thanks, Kuiil,” Din said appreciatively. He knew that the old man he entrusted Grogu with was nothing but diligent in his care of the boy, but there was always that lingering guilt that Din was never quite able to outrun, no matter how hard he tried.

Grogu had just about finished his dinner when the doorbell rang, signifying that Din’s driver had arrived. Din took a deep breath and braced himself to say goodbye to Grogu, hoping that it was one of those nights where Grogu would not get upset at his father leaving. Thankfully, as he leaned down to press a kiss to his boy’s coily hair, Grogu chirped happily and did not seem bothered that his father was leaving, especially as Kuiil was currently detailing all of the toys that Grogu could play with in the bath.

With his heart feeling lighter and safe in the knowledge that his son was going to be okay, Din pushed the old wooden door of the cottage open and made his way to the black van that would ferry him to central London to meet you. Part of the perks of his job was the fact that Din had a driver on call at all times, ready to take him wherever he desired on a moment’s notice. His usual driver was a man called Boba, Din suspected was around his age but somehow seemed more wizened. Din suspected that the two of them shared similar pasts, although he was inclined to keep personal chatter to a minimum.

“Hi, Boba,” Din greeted the bald man who was sitting in the driver’s seat.

“Good evening, Mr. Djarin,” Boba nodded, as he started the engine and drove off.

Din was grateful that Boba did not speak unless spoken to; he was not one for small talk, which suited Din perfectly. The radio was on, mercifully at a quiet volume and Din found himself staring out of the window as the lush green countryside turned into leafy suburbia and then, finally, the hustle and bustle of the big city. It took a certain amount of driving skill to be able to navigate London on a Friday evening, especially given the stop-start nature of the traffic. Din felt as though they were crawling along and wondered several times whether it would be quicker to walk.

Eventually, though, the car pulled up a street behind Trafalgar Square and Din eagerly hopped out, anxious to get to the meeting point even though he was twenty minutes early. He had left extra early to account for the stubborn London traffic which had proved to be a wise decision as, despite Boba’s driving skill, the journey had still taken more than an hour.

Din hovered by one of the two fountains, not sure where the most convenient place to meet was, given the size of the square. Although the Corinthian pillar that hosted a statue of a British naval hero on top was the focal point of the square, it was busy with tourists attempting to hop on the bronze lions dotted around the base. Din hoped that you would be able to spot him in his current location. He paced around, checking his watch every few minutes and nervously raking his hand through his hair.

“Hi,” a quiet, familiar voice spoke into the warm summer evening and Din immediately spun around, just like that day at the convention when you had caught him looking up at the poster.

“Hi,” Din breathed as he finally looked at you. The sight of you almost caused Din to topple backwards into the fountain. He was almost speechless, as his eyes traversed your body and appreciated the way your outfit complimented your body. “You look incredible,” Din breathed, utterly floored by the sight of you. He had seen you in full-nerd mode at the convention, in your work clothes and dressed down for a casual day at the zoo. But to see you dressed up slightly, with hair and makeup styled to match… you were a breathtaking vision before him and Din could scarcely believe that you were his date. He felt like the luckiest man in the entire world.

“Thank you,” you replied. Din watched as a shy smile crept across your features and you brought your hand to the side of your face, an indication that you were perhaps as nervous as him.

“Do you have any guesses as to the venue for our date?” Din asked curiously, raising an eyebrow. He wondered whether you had clocked how close the meeting point was to the stunning neoclassical building which looked out over the square.

“No, I figured we met here because of its location in central London. It’s close to a lot of notable places,” you shrugged. Din smirked, delighted that what he was going to say next was sure to surprise you.

“Well, I apologise if you’re a bit sick of museums given that you, uh, work in one all week,” Din said, bringing his hand to the back of his neck and squeezing in a self-soothing gesture. “But I remembered what you said during the tour, about a certain painting that always seems to have a crowd of tourists surrounding it…”

“Din! You didn’t!” You exclaimed, clapping your hand over your mouth in shock.

“Would you like to see the sunflowers without a crowd of people gathered around them?” Din asked, although he already knew what your answer would be.

“YES!” You practically squealed. For a moment Din wondered whether you were about to throw your arms around him in excitement as you appeared to move slightly towards him before you stopped in your tracks.

To Din, it appeared that you were holding back somewhat. He panicked that you were disappointed in his outfit, perhaps you had just been too polite to say no to a date. Din shook his head and dismissed those insecure thoughts as the two of you began walking up the stairs towards the stunning museum building. He could not forget the way you had looked at him when you had first turned around. There was definitely something there. Din focused on the building to ground himself, admiring the stunning facade. He gazed up at the portico, with its pillars and the dome on the roof above the pediment. Din hadn’t even stepped foot inside yet and he was already blown away by the beauty of the building. If the works contained inside were as incredible as the exterior, it was certain to be an incredible evening.

A museum worker was waiting at the entrance and she took the two of you inside and gave a brief talk about the rules and expectations for such an exclusive tour. Unlike during his visit to the British Museum, Din had requested that the two of you just be allowed to make your way around alone and, apart from a security guard who would follow you into each room but keep their distance, the two of you would be left to your own devices.

Din gazed up in awe at the dome above the steps that led up to the galleries. There were ornate marble pillars and gold patterns on the marble doorways. Every surface contained remarkable detail, even the mosaic floor, and Din almost felt that he couldn’t possibly take it all in at once. Surely he would have to stand here for hours and commit it all to memory. However, there was an entire, empty museum with untold treasures waiting to be explored.

“Where to start? This place is enormous!” Din remarked.

“Maybe we can start with the older paintings, the Renaissance and the like?” you suggested. “Then we can finish at the modern section, with the Impressionists and Van Gogh.”

“Lead the way,” Din gestured and you obeyed, practically galloping up the stairs towards the Renaissance wing.

Although Din could appreciate the skill that had gone into crafting such masterpieces so many centuries ago, the subjects of most of the paintings meant nothing to him as they mainly depicted religious history. The Creed that Din followed was quite different, with the bullet and sword carving out most of their history rather than the brush and pencil. Most of the figures meant nothing to him, although he was stunned by their attention to detail.

“Not really doing it for you?” You asked, as though able to sense Din’s disinterest with this particular section.

“Um, I mean… I can appreciate the skill but I prefer landscapes and nature, I think,” Din admitted, hoping that you did not think him uncultured. Din was anything but, yet his cultural background was worlds apart from what was depicted in this museum.

“To be honest, me too,” you shrugged. “There are only so many creepy babies and angels that I can stand to look at. I know a section that you’ll like!”

Din was stunned as you moved towards him and reached for his hand, lacing your fingers together. He inhaled sharply as the realisation that you had actually taken his hand dawned upon him. Din did not have much time to react as you began leading him through the museum. All earlier nervousness on your end had apparently vanished, as you had actually taken Din's hand in your own. Din was so taken aback by the gesture and the feeling of your warm, soft hand against his, that he almost forgot to begin moving his legs to follow you. Fortunately, he remembered that to actually move forward he had to lift his feet, his brain finally catching up to your gesture. Din followed you to wherever you were taking him, a wide grin on his face as he appreciated the fact that you were joined together. He did not care where you were taking him, as long as the two of you were together.

Din did not have long to ponder where you were going as he was led into a smaller room off the main wings which contained a variety of stunningly detailed, colourful paintings of an incredible array of flowers. Din paused for a few moments, taking in the art in the room, but you were already marching to the centre of the room. Din was disappointed when you dropped his hand and moved further into the room, wishing that the two of you could have held hands all night.

“This is a section with a lot of Dutch flower artists, like de Heem, Ruysch and van Huysum,” you explained. “This one is by Brueghel the Elder. I just love the colours, so vibrant and the lighting is so realistic, it’s easy to forget that this is a painting. It looks almost photo-realistic, despite being over four hundred years old. Sorry, I’m going into tour guide mode, even though this isn’t my museum,” you added, sheepishly.

“Don’t apologise,” Din smiled, closing the distance between the two of you and nodding at you, willing you to continue. He was fascinated by your mind and wanted to hear what you had to say.

“You can see there are some tulips in this one, like the red one up there in the corner. At this time, the Dutch economy was built on tulip prices, people made enormous fortunes speculating on that little flower’s worth. Until, one day, the bubble burst and people lost everything. I think some Dutch people even resorted to eating tulips!”

“That’s fascinating,” Din shook his head as he took in the information. “Something so beautiful, eventually causing so much pain.”

“Yeah…” you breathed.

“Sorry, that was a little depressing,” Din scoffed. “I didn’t mean for it to be.”

“No, it’s alright. Art isn’t created in a vacuum, right? I mean, there’s a story behind every painting. I think it can help you connect with them on a deeper level.”

“It certainly can…” Din agreed, taking another step towards you.

“Um, anyway, perhaps we can head to the modern section,” you blurted out as if wanting to maintain your distance, “I’d like to take advantage of being able to look at the impressionists without people wanting to do a photoshoot by Van Gogh’s sunflowers or Monet’s water lilies,” you offered.

Din nodded in agreement and noticed that this time, you did not take his hand. That nagging feeling of insecurity was slowly creeping into his gut and he did not remotely enjoy the sensation. Why did you seem to be holding back from him? Din could not understand it. Surely, you understood how attracted he was to you?

Din followed you as you practically marched through the museum to the more modern section, stopping only briefly to draw his attention to a Holbein painting called The Ambassadors. Din listened intently as you explained that it was one of the most famous paintings in the gallery. Although he much preferred nature, he could appreciate the details of the clothes and the captivating facial expressions, especially given the size of the canvas. Then, the two of you left the Renaissance wing and moved to where the Impressionists were situated.

Din had followed you closely as you strode purposefully towards the entire reason that Din had arranged a private evening in this museum in the first place. To the most famous piece in the gallery, the one that people from around the country and indeed, the world, travelled to see: Vincent Van Gogh’s sunflowers. Now, Din was standing next to you in quiet contemplation in front of the piece, trying to appreciate every inch and understand what drew you to it.

“I can see why you like it so much,” Din offered. “There’s just something about it that makes you not want to look away.”

“Right? I could stare at it for hours,” you replied. “And honestly, without any tourists here, I might well do that.”

Din huffed a laugh at that. Although he was quietly jealous of the way that you were gazing at the painting of a man who had died over a century ago. Din wanted, more than anything, for you to turn your head and gaze at him with as much reverence as you were looking at the sunflowers.

“It was worth pulling all the strings just to see you so happy,” Din smiled.

You turned your head at that, granting Din’s wish as you looked at him, eyes full of emotion. You opened your mouth as if to say something before subtly shaking your head and seemingly deciding against it.

“Thank you, Din. It means the world to be able to stand here in front of a painting I love so much…”

“Well, can you please tell me more about the sunflowers, my favourite tour guide?”

You shook your head and smiled before you launched into another mini-art history lecture. “It’s my favourite piece because I think most people only understand it on a very surface level, whereas I’ve always thought it was quite a sad piece. A lot of us associate the colour yellow and indeed the sunflowers themselves with happiness, but the story behind this painting is anything but happy,” you paused, looking at Din as if to confirm that he was still interested. Din nodded and you continued: “Vincent was friends with a painter called Paul Gauguin and invited him to come and stay with him in Arles, a city in Southern France because he aspired to set up an art colony. So, while he waited, Vincent spent his days painting the sunflowers, intending that the piece would decorate Gauguin’s room. But he didn’t come. As more and more time passed, it was clear that despite Vincent’s enthusiasm, Gauguin was not in any hurry to join him. That’s why you can see the sunflowers at the bottom are dying,” you explained as you gestured towards the wilted flowers at the bottom of the painting.

Din slowly nodded as he cast his eyes towards the sad sunflowers that he had never noticed before. It suddenly gave the painting a newer, more mournful meaning, a perfect mix of enthusiasm and melancholia that Din found strangely relatable and moving.

“There are a few different versions of the painting, where you can see the sunflowers in various stages of decay. It shows just how lonely he was, in real time. Gauguin did eventually come, but the two of them did not get along. Their frequent explosive rows caused Gauguin to eventually leave, a couple of days before Christmas. The entire experience contributed to Vincent’s declining mental state and he entered an asylum, where he spent most of the last year of his life…” you observed, voice quiet now. “I think it’s strange really, that such a famous painting can be viewed so many different ways and that most people do not know the entire story. A lot of people love Van Gogh, but few people truly understand him. And even fewer, I believe, would want to be associated with him if they lived at the same time as him. We like to think that things would be different now and oddballs like Vincent would be treated better, but I’m not so sure. I think we still live in a world where people who are different are treated terribly and anyone who shows any kind of otherness is ostracised for it. He was misunderstood in life and equally in death, too.”

“Wow…” Din breathed. He knew, of course, that he should have expected more than a surface-level assessment of the piece coming from you. But he was no less stunned by the beautiful words that came out of your mouth, the sentiment expressed and the way you seemingly cared so deeply for the world around you and all of the people in it.

“Sorry, I went off on a bit of a tangent there…” you shook your head.

“Don’t apologise. You’re incredible,” Din reassured, beaming at you. His brown eyes widened in awe of the thoughts you had just shared with him.

The way you bit your lip, blushed and looked down slightly at the floor as if shy about the compliment Din had just paid you only made him all the more determined to shower you with compliments. He vowed that as long as you were in his life, he would not go a single day without complimenting you, without letting you know how incredible he found you.

“Um, I might just sit here for a bit and appreciate the paintings if you’d like to join,” you said, gesturing towards the bench that was just behind the two of you.

Din nodded and followed you to the bench, making sure that he sat close to you and pressed his body against yours. Din positioned himself so that your legs, arms and thighs were touching as you sat on the bench. He was not putting much weight on you, but it was an indication of how close he wanted to get you, and how attracted he felt to you. You were pulling him into your orbit, perhaps without realising it.

“It’s nice to be able to sit here and look at the paintings without a thousand tourists with their phones blocking your view. I mean, I know the sunflowers are the most popular but there is also the painting of the crabs here. I love the textures and colours. Plus that chair, it’s very much like those found in one of my other favourite Van Gogh paintings: The Bedroom. I think the detailing on it shows a….”

Din was well aware that he was not able to contribute to your ramblings, even if he had possessed the knowledge to. He was distracted by the warm weight of your body against his own, the way his pulse quickened just being in this proximity to you. His gaze flitted to your lips, looking so kissable in the shade of lipstick that perfectly complimented your outfit that you had chosen. Din was aware that you were still speaking about your love for the beautiful artworks before you, but your voice seemed distant somehow.

Din knew that if he did what he wanted to and joined his lips to yours there would be no going back. Once he kissed you, it was inevitable that he would dedicate his entire life to you. You had already shown so many traits that he was attracted to with your patience, intelligence and kindness. If his lips claimed yours in a kiss, it would be like crossing the Rubicon, a point of no return.

Din sat there, so wrapped up in his thoughts that he failed to notice that you had stopped speaking. It wasn’t until you shook your head and looked away that Din was aware that he had completely zoned out and given you the misguided impression that he was uninterested in what you had to say.

“Sorry, I was boring you,” you shook your head and averted your gaze, clearly feeling embarrassed. Din felt awful.

“Not at all!” Din exclaimed.

“I know I can go on too much, I’m sorry if I–”

But Din cut your ramblings off, mid-sentence.

“Truthfully, I was just thinking about how much I want to kiss you right now…” Din confessed.

“Then kiss me. I can’t wait much longer,” you breathed.

“Is that what you really want? I mean…”

“Din! If you don’t kiss me already, I’m going to scream!”

Din nodded nervously and brought his arm up as he leaned in. He cupped your jaw in his strong hand, stroking your cheek with his thumb and marvelling at how soft your skin was. He hadn’t even kissed you yet, and already his breaths were so shallow that he feared he might pass out. Din paused a few inches from your face, staring at your lips until you closed your eyes and closed the final distance between you, his eyes squeezing shut as your soft, warm lips touched his.

Din had kissed people before. He had relished the uniquely intimate connection that came from joining one’s lips to another’s. It was something that had always set his heart racing and made him feel light-headed from the momentousness of such an occasion. Kissing you, though, was a different prospect entirely. It was as though every nerve ending in his body was suddenly on fire. The sensation of your lips together, his hand leaving your cheek to cradle the back of your head as the kiss deepened threatened to unleash something feral in Din that he was sure would be entirely inappropriate for a building as beautiful as the National Gallery.

“Um, wow,” you breathed after Din pulled away from the kiss.

Din smirked and raised an eyebrow, pleased that you had seemingly had the same reaction to the kiss as him.

“That was incredible,” you added, confirming the fact.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Din confessed, biting his lip lightly.

“I think I’ve wanted you to for even longer…”

“I’m new to… all of this, dating, you know. I mean, since Grogu, I haven’t felt able to just drop everything and go on dates,” Din explained, clasping his hands together and playing with his fingers, a sign of the nervousness he felt when talking about this. “I just wanted you to know that. I really enjoy spending time with you. I haven’t felt like this for… well, a long time, to be honest. You’re incredibly special and important to me, already, and I would love to spend more time with you.”

“Oh, Din,” you exhaled. “I… I don’t know what to say. Of course, I want to spend more time with you. I’m not very good at this either, I feel like with dating I always come off either too strongly or completely uninterested. But that day when, um, when I saw you at the museum… I was so upset that you were probably going to turn out to be a total creep like every other man I’ve ever given a tour to, because you were so handsome. When you were a complete gentleman it made things much more complicated. I don’t know how I focused on the tour!”

“I would never have guessed, you did a phenomenal job,” Din praised.

“Thank you,” you breathed. “I would love to see you again, as soon as possible. I’m um… I’m free all weekend, if that’s convenient for you.”

“So am I,” Din smiled. “I was thinking after leaving the museum, we could go for a drink somewhere together, if you have any recommendations.”

“Sounds perfect,” you breathed.

Din leaned in for another kiss. Now that that particular barrier had been broken, he was going to make a point of stealing as many kisses from your lips as possible. As your soft lips moved against his and he cupped your cheeks with his hands, Din knew that kissing you like this was something he would never tire of. When you eventually pulled away for some much-needed air, Din leaned his forehead against yours and the two of you smiled shyly, giggling breathlessly as you relished your newfound closeness.

“I’m so lucky our paths crossed,” Din sighed.

For a moment, it was so easy to forget about how exactly your paths had first crossed. The fact that Din had seen you and began to feel things for you long before you ever knew it. Din felt a pang of guilt at the gravity of the secret he was keeping from you, but then he reminded himself of all the reasons this was important. Din had no doubts that you were an honourable, trustworthy person, but there was no way he could sacrifice the privacy and security of his son at this early stage. Din consoled himself in that moment by reminding himself that he had never knowingly lied to you. This was your first date, after all, he reminded himself to live in the moment and to stop thinking several steps ahead. One day, you would know the truth, one day.

✯ ✯ ✯

As Din gazed across the table at you, your elbow resting on the immaculate wooden surface and your hand cupping your chin slightly as you threw your head back in laughter, he was completely captivated by your effortless beauty. You were giggling at a memory Din was sharing of his time as a stuntman, albeit with the story attributed to a non-existent friend to avoid revealing that he worked in the film industry. The bar that you had found was underground and dimly lit, save for the lamps that sat on every table. It was modelled after a prohibition-era speakeasy and it was no surprise to Din that you had suggested it, given your passion for history.

After you had left the museum, Din and you held hands and walked briskly through the cooling London evening. It was still reasonably warm, mercifully summer had finally arrived but compared to the thin clothes that both of you had set out in, the temperature had significantly dropped. Luckily, the bar was well-heated despite being located underground. There was ambient jazz music playing and the buzz of people enjoying their Friday nights with prohibition-themed cocktails.

Din had swapped stories with you, the two of you learning more details about the others’ lives. Din found that he was surprisingly adept at obscuring the truth and removing key identifying features of his anecdotes. There was so much of his life, including the fact that he was a real Mandalorian, that he had to hide from you. But there was an equal amount that he could share, even if told from a slightly different perspective. Din loved hearing about your life too, your hopes, fears and dreams. He thought that you were one of the most interesting people that he had ever met, even if there was an occasional air of insecurity to you that he struggled to understand, given all of your talents.

Din smiled as he watched you stand up from the table and walk to the bathroom. You were still as stunning, even in the dim lights of the bar. His good mood did not last though when he pulled out his phone to pass the time in your absence and noticed, with a frown, that there was a new text from Jim.

Din’s heart sank when he read the message notification on his lockscreen:

Hi Din, Sorry for the late notice but you are needed on set tomorrow for pickups. Promise we will make it up to you next week. Jim

Din threw his head back and sighed. The promise of a free weekend, especially when he desperately needed one, had been cruelly snatched away from him. The vow that he had made to you in the museum that you would meet up again this weekend now looked set to be broken. It was not going to be the nicest end to a first date, to let you down due to a last-minute work commitment. Din sighed, showing his frustration over how unfair this all was.

His heart sank further when you returned from the bathroom and the first words out of your mouth were attempting to arrange another time to meet up this weekend.

“I was thinking tomorrow, maybe we could meet up at this park near me, perhaps you can bring Grogu?” You suggested after you slid into the booth opposite Din. “I think there’s a play area, he’d probably love it.”

“I’m so sorry to let you down like this… I can’t. My boss just texted me and told me that I’m needed at work tomorrow,” Din sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m so sorry, I really wanted to spend time with you.”

“Oh, that’s a shame,” you looked down dejectedly. “What about Sunday?”

“I think the disruption to Grogu’s routine of me going to work tomorrow will mean that I should probably spend the day with him on Sunday, to make sure that he’s alright,” Din replied apologetically. “Look, I’m so sorry about this. It’s not personal at all, but Grogu… he is my only priority. I have to do what’s best for him and an entire weekend of his routine being disrupted… it would be too much for him. I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

Din winced at the disappointment he saw in your eyes, at how despondent and let-down you looked. He knew that he would make it up to you, he was a man of his word. He only hoped that you would give him a chance to.

“Okay, Din,” you smiled weakly. “Um, look, I should probably start heading home soon before the tube stops running.”

“Well, I was thinking we could stay a little longer. You could get a ride home in the car with me if you’d like?”

“Thanks for the offer but I know my route back home and I’m happy to take it,” you replied and Din felt uneasy at how distant you suddenly seemed to be, as though you were withdrawing from him and retreating into your shell.

“Okay,” Din breathed. “Let me get the bill.”

Din hailed a waiter and paid for both of your drinks, on a company credit card, another perk of the job. Then the two of you slid out of the booth and made your way back up to street level, feeling rather like two moles that had just emerged from their holes after spending many months underground. Din was astonished that it was approaching midnight, all sense of time seemed to have vanished in the basement bar.

“I had a wonderful night with you,” Din said as he offered you his arm, which you took, looping your hand through his arm and resting your hand on his toned bicep. “I really am sorry about this weekend. Work said they will make it up to me, so I should be able to ensure that this does not happen again next weekend. Are you free then?

“I should be, yeah,” you smiled and Din felt relieved that your demeanour had lightened somewhat. “I was just a little shocked, it felt a little personal,”

“No, never,” Din said, stopping in the street and shaking his head definitively as he looked into your eyes, hoping that you sensed how much he had enjoyed your evening together. “I meant everything I said in the museum, you are incredibly important to me.”

Maybe it was the slight buzz from the alcohol, or maybe it was the way you were currently gazing at Din, but he suddenly felt a little lightheaded as you finally arrived outside the station.

“Thank you for this incredible evening, Din,” you smiled, as the two of you stood facing each other just outside the entrance to the tube station. “See you next weekend?”

“See you next weekend,” Din nodded. “I’ll text you in the week.”

Then, Din felt his pulse quicken as you closed the distance to him and pulled him into another kiss. It was more intimate this time, with your hands resting on his shoulders as his hands moved to the back of your head. The kiss was probably slightly more passionate than was appropriate for such a public place, but the cocktails and the intoxicating buzz that came from being around you meant that Din did not remotely care.

“Goodnight, Din,” you whispered against his lips after pulling away from the embrace, before turning and walking into the station.

Din stood there for a few minutes in your wake, fixed to the spot even after he had watched you disappear into the tube station. He could not bring himself to move, as though this spot where you had just kissed provided some tangible connection to you that lingered even after you were gone. Din wanted time to hurry up so that he could be in your presence again, knowing that the rest of the week would feel dull and unimaginative compared to the vibrant, inspiring few hours that he had just spent with you.

Din Djarin had often wondered what falling in love would feel like. He had long since given up on the hope that he would ever experience such an emotion.

Yet the butterflies in his stomach and smile that he still wore across his face, even after you were no longer at his side, suggested that he might just be on his way to finding out.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @toxic-seduction @survivingandenduring @readingiskeepingmegoing

#my fics #tbobw #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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highnoonmiller · 4 months

Text

The Good I’ll Do- Chapter 2

WARNINGS: Smut,unprotect PIV (wrap it up folks) AFAB! READER, no use of YN, no descriptions of reader, mentions of alcohol, nicknames of baby, darlin, sweetheart, pretty girl, mentions of shitty exes (maybe trauma idk readers ex was controlling), riding, cream pie (if I forgot anything please let me know

Notes: second time writing smut so I am once again sorry if it’s bad!!! Also omg they went on a date. So cute!!! I also ran this through Grammarly and that’s IT (that program can take my really, definitely, and actually out of my cold dead hands) so I wouldn’t say it’s “proof read”

Words: 4.7k

Previous part

You woke up the next morning with the sun shining through the blinds slightly into your eyes. The other side of the bed feels empty and cold, sitting up to rub the sleep out of your eyes and fully collect where you are. You realize Joel is definitely not in the bed with you. You can't help but feel slightly disappointed as you make your way into his ensuite bathroom.

Splashing a little water on your face you noticed he left out a new toothbrush for you to use, which you thank the stars for. After finally being able to brush out everything from your mouth last night you gather all of your clothes you can find and shoot Olivia a quick text to see if she can come get you.

Once you finally make your way downstairs you can definitely see the remnants of last night's party. The living room is littered with cans, decorations, and abandoned plates of food. The kitchen is also no better. While waiting for Olivia you decided to help out by picking up some of the mess. You throw the trash away and put any of the leftover food and drinks into the fridge. While picking up as much as you could in the kitchen you found the note Joel had intended to leave for you.

Hey darlin’, I had to run out and go get my daughter from my mama’s. Sorry to leave you like that. Here’s my number (817) 402-5567- Joel

You take your phone to add Joel’s number into your contacts and send him a quick text to let him know you found his note and that you’re about to head out. As soon as you click send you get a text from Olivia that she’s here. You gather your things and make your way out to her car.

“Girl! Joel? Oh my fucking god!” Olivia says as soon as you enter the car. She looks a little worse for wear. Her long brown curly hair pulled haphazardly into a bun, sunglasses sitting on top of her face, and one of Dan’s old t-shirts and sweats on. She completely decided to forgo shoes, more than likely rolling out of bed to come and get you.

“I fucking know, but goddamn was it good.” You say, grabbing her spare pair of sunglasses out of the center console.

“Like how good?” She questions, backing out of the driveway and making her way out of the neighborhood.

”Like made me cum three fucking times good.”

You two get into the dirty details, the kind of details you can only share with your best friend. She’s a bit shocked to find out how good Joel was in bed, she wasn’t as close to him as she was to Tommy growing up.

“I mean obviously I knew he had sex before, for fucks sake he has a kid, but outside of his ex-wife, Joel never seemed interested in women. Tommy said he had tried his best to set him up a few times but Joel always found some excuse.” Olivia rambled on, as you two made your way into the apartment.

You tried to keep the shock of Joel having an ex-wife to yourself. He seemed to be around your age but to already have a daughter and an ex-wife there’s no way he could be. You tried to remember if he mentioned any of this last night, anything about his daughter, her age, his age, literally anything but come up blank. You think about pressing Olivia for more answers but figure it would be better to get them from Joel himself.

Olivia tells you she’s going to lay back down and you make your way into the shower. You feel grimy, smelling like sex and Joel. It’s not the worst combination of smells but you’re ready to be clean. The warm shower helps not only to clean you off, with the scent of coconut and vanilla filling the room from your shower products but also clear your mind. You get out wrapping your towel around yourself, completing the skincare routine you neglected last night, and slipping into your own clothes.

You decided that today would be a lazy day, laying in bed, and watching TV. As you crawl into bed, ignoring the piles of clothes scattered around your room from you trying to get ready the night before, you check your phone seeing you have a text from Joel.

Joel: Glad you saw my note and that you got back home safe. We just got back from Mama’s. Thank you so much for helping clean up. You really did have to but I definitely appreciated it. It was Tommy’s job since he wanted to throw the damn party so bad so he said Thank you too.

You: No problem! I had a little time on my hands before Olivia got there so I decided to make myself useful LOL.

Joel: You did more than enough thank you again. I was also wondering if you were interested in joining me for dinner Saturday? I don’t want you to think I’m some grimy dude who just sleeps with a lady.

You sent back that you would love to and you two decided to finish out the rest of the details later in the week

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“Tommy! Get up. We gotta go get Sarah from Mama’s and we are already fuckin’ late.” Joel is standing above Tommy, who is sleeping peacefully on his couch. He didn’t mean to sleep in so late but the bed was so warm and you felt so nice and soft. You can’t blame a man for laying in bliss for a little too long now, can you?

“Damn man alright! I’m fuckin up!” Tommy says, rolling over to fully sit up. It takes a little more herding (and some water and Tylenol) of his hung-over younger brother from Joel but they finally both make it into the truck and are off to their Mama’s house.

“Where did you disappear off to last night?” Tommy asks, clutching his head in his hands.

“I umm-” Joel isn’t sure if this is even something he wants to talk about with Tommy. Tommy has spent the better part of the last year and a half trying to set Joel up, claiming even if all he does is fuck around he deserves to do something for himself. Joel disagrees once Elaine left it was just him and Sarah and he was content with that, it was all he needed.

“You slept with someone, didn't you! Wait, the last time I saw you you were on the porch with..” Tommy trails off letting all the pieces click together in his head. “Holy fuckin shit…”

“Just drop it, Tommy, Please” Joel states firmly. The rest of the drive is silent.

As they pull into the long driveway of the quaint brown house Joel sees his mama standing there with Sarah on her hip, both of them waving out to him. He couldn’t get the car in park fast enough to get his baby girl back in his arms.

“Hey, Sarah Bear! Did you have a good time at grandma’s” Joel says, taking his daughter out of his mama's arms and bouncing her up and down.

Sarah gives off a giggle that makes Joel’s heart swell with love and a nod of her little blonde head.

“Y’all’s daddy is making burgers for lunch if y’all wanna stay a minute.” Mama Miller lets her two sons know. They both look at each other with a shrug and decide ‘Why not?’.

The family makes their way off the porch and inside.

“How was y’all’s little party?” Mama Miller asks when they are all seated and settled on the couch, Sarah back on the floor playing with the toys she keeps at her Grandma’s house.

“It wasn’t bad,” Joel says, wanting to keep the details short. He has this aching urge to tell his Mama about you but he knows now isn’t the time.

“It can’t be nearly as bad as the time Thomas Alan threw a party while me and y’all’s mama were gone for the weekend.” Joel’s father pipes in, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, wiping his hands off on an old rag.

“Dear lord, I ain’t ever gonna live that down with you, am I? I was 16.” Tommy says with a chuckle.

“Absolutely not! I thought we were gonna have to have this house condemned when we got back.” The older Miller man snipped back.

Their dad goes back into the kitchen to finish up making lunch. Joel is only half listening and participating in the conversation, too focused on checking his phone, hoping that you will see the note he left you on the counter and praying that you’ll send him a text.

“Joel Michael Miller!” His mama using his full name, making him jump and put down his phone. “I thought I raised you better than to be on that damn phone all the time. If it ain’t the president or Jesus it can wait.

“Yes ma’am,” Joel mumbles, sticking his phone into his back pocket. Sarah thinks seeing her Dad get in trouble is too funny as she raises her little toddler fingers to point and laugh at him.

By the time everything was said and done Sarah was feeling pretty cranky and ready for her next nap. The boys said a quick goodbye to their parents and hit the road back to Austin.

Walking back into the house with a sleeping Sarah in his arms and Tommy trailing not too far behind him Joel notices that you had cleaned up what you could before you left. It makes his heart swoon. You absolutely did not have to do that. He thought it was such a genuine show of your character and that really touched him. Tommy was also over the moon because he had absolutely no interest in cleaning after the party.

Joel takes Sarah upstairs and carefully puts her down in her bed, hoping that she will finish her nap. He plops down on the found with Tommy after, turning on some Sunday night football game, and finally checks his phone. He sees that you had actually gotten back to him a couple of hours ago.

“She must’ve texted you back,” Tommy says, nodding his head at Joel’s phone.

“Yeah, I just wanted to make sure she got home okay. I left her my number earlier.”

Tommy knows better than to press the issue. Joel would tell him in due time, but if he tried to pry the answers he so desperately wants to know now his older brother would shut down and tell him nothing at all.

“I know your flight back is on Monday but would you mind watchin’ Sarah for a couple of hours on Saturday? I’d ask Mama but I don’t wanna stick her with her for two weekends in a row.” Joel asks Tommy, finally looking up from his phone.

“Sure. Sarah needs some Uncle Tommy time.”

“Thank you but this time watch your mouth. I don’t need my five-year-old coming back to me saying ‘ass hat’ again.”

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You were nervous. The work week seemed to drag on and on. Olivia might be more excited about your date than you were. Which you weren’t 100% sure if it was a date? Maybe it was just like a ‘thank you for letting me put my dick in you’? Either way, Joel was going to be at your apartment in 10 minutes. You had started getting ready entirely too early which left you with nothing to do but pace and freak out to Olivia.

“Be honest. Do I look funny?” You say, stopping your pacing for a moment to give her a full spin with your arms out. You had on a simple oversized brown sweater, tucked into a black form-fitting skirt that had a small slit up the thigh, sheer black stockings, and chunky black boots.

“It was a no the first time I told you and it’s a no now! And please sit the fuck down, girl! You’re making ME nervous.”

You sit down on the couch beside Olivia tapping your foot as you check your phone again to confirm Joel is going to be there at 6:30. You try your best to focus on whatever reality TV show Olivia had popped on but as 6:30 came and went you could feel the knot in your stomach growing tighter. You sent Joel a quick text at 6:45 asking if you two were still in for tonight with no response. It isn’t until 7:00 that you hear a knock on the door, making both you and Olivia jump slightly. You get up and practically sprint over to open it to see a very sorry-looking Joel with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“I’m so sorry I’m late darlin’. I had to go run out to a job site and Sarah wasn’t too keen on me leaving..” Joel says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Oh, these are for you.” He sticks out the flowers for you to take.

“Joel, these are gorgeous! Thank you so much.” You step inside and he follows you, standing slightly awkwardly in your kitchen as you look for a vase.

“Hey, Joel,” Olivia says, finally looking up from her show when she notices the flowers you are setting into the vase.

“Oh my god those are so cute!” She gets up from her spot on the couch to look at them closer. “DANNNN!!! JOEL GOT HER FUCKIN FLOWERS!!! YOU NEVER GET ME FLOWERS.” Olivia yells out to Dan, who is currently sitting in his “office” playing some sort of computer game.

“YOU JUST GOT FLOWERS LAST WEEK!” Dan hollers back. She just shrugs her shoulders.

“Well, you two cats have fun! Be safe!” Olivia says going back to her spot on the couch and you and Joel leave to head out to his truck.

“I just wanted to say you look really beautiful tonight,” Joel tells you as he opens his truck door for you. He means it too. There’s just something about you in those tights that’s driving him wild. He can barely pry his eyes off of you.

“You clean up well yourself, Miller.” And you mean it too. He’s got on a dark green flannel, that he borderline looks like he’s going to bust the seams on because he’s so broad, with the sleeves rolled up to the top of his forearm, dark blue jeans, the same brown belt you tore off of him a week ago, and brown boots to match.

Joel had opted to keep where he was taking you a secret, no matter how many times you asked during the week, he wouldn’t budge. You try to notice any familiar landmarks as you drive but notice none. It’s in this moment you pray Joel isn’t actually some kind of psycho killer. Either way, it’s really hard to take anything as Joel drives with one hand on the steering wheel and the other hand resting on your thigh, drawing small circles with his fingers.

“I really think you’re gonna like this place. I think it’s really pretty.” Joel says, taking his hand off your thigh to turn down the music for a moment as he turns into the gravel driveway of the restaurant.

Pretty was the understatement of the century. The place was a small Italian restaurant, the outside was adorned with weathered bricks and big beautiful plants placed outside of the entrance. There was a small open outdoor seating area made of wood with string lights hung from the posts.

“Joel, this place is absolutely beautiful. I’m so excited.” You tell him giddily as he gets out of the truck to open your door and offers you his hand to get down.

“Well, I’m happy to hear that.”

You two walk hand in hand, you look around the restaurant in absolute awe as you walk inside. The inside is just as beautiful as the outside.

“How many?” The hostess at the front stand asks.

“Just two. I should have a reservation under ‘Miller’” Joel tells her.

“Yes, I see you right here.” She taps a few buttons on the screen before grabbing menus and having you two follow her.

She leads you guys outside, which Joel makes sure you are fine with and you most definitely were. She sets down the menus and informs you that your waiter would be with you shortly.

“Joel this place is so nice, oh my god.” You say scanning over your menu. “I’m not even sure what to get, it all looks so good.”

“Get whatever you want sweetheart,” Joel says placing his hand on top of yours, making you blush.

The waiter eventually comes by to take your drink and food orders. You both, funnily enough, get a sweet tea (taking Joel’s word that it’s actually good). You order the classic shrimp Alfredo while Joel gets an order of spaghetti. Joel also adds on a bottle of wine, stating ‘why not?’ Even though he’s not a big wine drinker himself.

The food is good but the conversation is even better. The questions you have about Sarah, his ex-wife, and his age are at the tip of your tongue. A tip that has become looser the more wine you drink. Eventually, you just say fuck it and ask as casually as you possibly can.

“So I know you’ve said you have a daughter, how old is she?”

“She’s five, she’ll be six in June.”

“Not to sound rude or anything but you look entirely too young to have a five-year-old.”

“Ha yeah, I’m only 24. I found out Sarah’s mom got pregnant not too long after we graduated high school, tried to do what I thought was the right thing, and got married. She left not long after Sarah reached 3 months old. It’s been me and her ever since.”

“Joel, I’m so sorry that must have been really hard.” You say, sincerely, placing your hand on top of his. Joel feels warm at your compassion.

“It’s no big deal. We all gotta grow up at some point. Plus, I got in great practice growing up with Tommy, always trying to keep him in line.”

There are a few beats of silence before Joel asks how you ended up in Austin.

“Well, I’m originally from Georgia. I went through a really nasty breakup. He was just super controlling. He always needed to know where I was going, and who I was with, and even if he did know he didn’t like it. He was constantly accusing me of cheating on him, even if all I did was hang out with Olivia. Pretty soon it just became easier to go to work and go home to avoid all the fighting. One day I guess I just woke up and decided I deserved better than that and I ended things. A couple of weeks later Dan got a job offer here in Austin and Olivia invited me to come with them.”

“I’m really glad that you got out of that,” Joel tells you with the same sincerity you offered him as he told you his story.

You two continued talking as you finished your meal. Once the check was paid and you were back in the truck Joel let you know he had one more stop before he took you home.

He drove a little further out of the city of Austin, turning onto a back road before taking his truck completely off the road and into an open field surrounded by trees.

“Gimme one second, close your eyes,” Joel says, hopping out of the truck. You can hear the tailgate going down and Joel rustling around back there. A few moments later he’s back and at your door, holding out his hand once again to help you out. You’ve never been with someone who was such a gentleman without making it some sort of manly status thing. With Joel, it seems like he genuinely WANTS to do all these things for you not because he feels like he has to keep up with some sort of societal pressure.

He helps you into the bed of the truck, albeit awkwardly due to your lack of vision. Once you’re fully seated in the bed on top of the fluffy blanket he put down he tells you to look up and open your eyes. When you do it’s the most beautiful and vibrant night stars you’ve ever seen. You swear you can see hundreds of thousands of them all twinkling above you.

“Joel… oh my god.” You are absolutely amazed, doing your head around with a bright smile on your face as you try to take it all in.

“Well, you said how much you love lookin’ at the stars…” Joel isn’t even looking at the sky. He’s staring straight at you. Stars be damned when he has all this beauty right beside him.

You break away from looking at the night sky to look at Joel, to find he’s already looking at you. In that moment you lean forward and crash your lips into his. It startles him for a second before he’s fully kissing you back, moving you to straddle his lap. You grind yourself against his lap, trying to relieve some of the tension that’s been building since he stepped foot into your apartment.

“God you look so fuckin gorgeous. I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you all night.” Joel says, breaking the kiss to move down your neck. His cold hands going underneath your shirt making you shiver.

“Fuck Joel. Need you bad.” You whine out as he presses his lips to the sweet spot on your neck, still grinding hard into his growing bulge.

“Yeah, sweetheart? Where do you need me? Tell me.” Joel presses his forehead to yours, looking deep into your eyes.

“Need you to fuck me.”

“My baby needs me to fuck that pretty little pussy? I got you darlin’ don’t worry”

In an instant, his lips are back on yours. It’s desperate and needy. He swipes your bottom lip with his tongue, asking for access to explore your mouth, to mold you two to each other even deeper. He removes his hands that moments ago were pawing at your breast, lightly twisting at your nipples in the same way that drove you insane the last time. One of his hands stays firmly on your back, pressing you into him while the other crawls up your thigh and in between your legs. His fingers brush up the seam of your tights.

“Already so fuckin wet for me. You’ve done soaked through your fuckin tights baby girl.”

His words make your head swirl and before you know it he’s kissing down your neck and collarbone again whilst ripping a hole into the sheer black tights. He wastes no time, moving your panties to the side and shoving two fingers into your wet cunt.

“Oh fuck Joel.” You moan, your body leaning forward as you rest your head on his shoulder. It was so much all at once, his fingers reaching the spot yours never could, while his thumb circles your clit. You feel so fucking full.

“Need to get you ready for me. Need you to cum on my fingers, sweet girl.” Joel mumbles into your ear.

You begin to grind down on his hand, chasing your high. Joel sings sweet praises in your ear of ‘good girl, ride my fuckin fingers, I got you, baby.’

As you get closer and closer to the edge Joel’s fingers never slow down. He reaches up to pull you by the hair so now you're looking directly at him.

“Keep your eyes open baby. I want to see that pretty little face when you cum.” Joel demands and you immediately snap your eyes open. A few more pumps of his fingers and your orgasm is washing over you. It feels like you’ve transcended into heaven, and you’re coming to realize every orgasm you have with Joel is like that.

Joel fucks you through the rest of your orgasm, bringing you back down to earth in the best way possible. He removes his fingers from your pussy and puts them into his mouth, swirling his tongue around like he can’t get enough of the taste. The sight alone has you gushing as you reach for his belt.

You undone his belt and zipper, pulling his cock free. He’s already hard and leaking from the tip. You begin to move down until he pulls you back up.

“I’m sorry darlin’ but I need to be in you.”

You lift yourself up off of his lap enough to grab him and line him up with your core. You can’t take your eyes off of Joel as you sink down onto him. He throws his head back in pleasure as your warm, tight walls wrap around his cock. You feel so full, there’s a slight sting from how much he stretches you out but fuck it feels so good. You stay there for a moment as you bottom out on his cock, reveling in the way it feels like he made for you.

“Baby, I need you to move,” Joel says, almost pained.

You begin to bounce up and down on him, his hands on your waist guiding you. You feel every single vein and ridge on him and you slide up and down his cock. Every time you bottom out to where your two bodies meet you feel the tip of his cock in your stomach driving you fucking wild.

“Fuck, I knew you’d look so pretty bouncing on my dick,” Joel mumbles to himself.

“Fuck Joel please, please touch me I’m so fuckin close.” You moan out, your knees feeling weak as you use all the strength you have to keep going. Joel obliges and presses hard circles into your clit with the pad of his thumb.

“Fuck baby that’s it. You’ve got it. Cum on my cock baby. You’re squeezing me so fuckin hard.”

His words send you over the edge as you shake with your orgasm. You feel your body go boneless as you slump over and onto him. Joel isn’t too far behind you as he lifts you up by your hip, rutting up into you with sloppy thrusts. You feel the warm feeling of his warm cum pumping into you. He pulls out of you laying you both down into the bed of the truck.

You both stay like that for a moment, lying together and looking up at the stars, the only noises able to be heard are the nightlife of the Forest and your labored breaths.

Eventually, Joel gets up and brings back a fast food napkin from his truck, apologizing because it’s the only thing he had to help you get cleaned up. You thank him anyway. You take his hand to get out of the truck and try to strip yourself out of your tights on wobbly legs. Joel is very smug about it but ends up helping you out of them and back into your shoes.

“I had a really fun time tonight.” You tell him now that you're back in the truck and on the way to your apartment. You two are holding hands across his center console.

“I enjoyed myself too. My parents take Sarah every other weekend to give me a break, if you want to plan something for then I’m down.” Joel tells you, swiping his thumb across the outside of your hand.

“Yeah, I’d really like that.” You smile while biting your bottom lip.

Joel brings you to your door, giving you a kiss goodnight, and you tell him to make sure to tell you that he got home safe. You went to bed that night feeling absolutely giddy over this man. You also couldn’t wait to tell Olivia everything in the morning.

Next part

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel tlou #the last of us #joel miller fanfiction #joel smut #joel miller smut #joel #joel the last of us

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cheerleaderman · 4 months

Text

Yuya Florence

A magicless human from other world seemingly with no memories or perhaps locked memories.With only a driver license and journal that gives them some identity .Now in this new place Yuya is just trying to survive what NRC throws at them hoping to recover what they lost.

Twst- The shooting star over the castle in the beginning of movies

Personality

Kinda complicated to explain but Yuya honestly doesn’t have a consistent personality in the main story because they change to how to protect themselves or what the situation needs/happening around them it’s in the way of her trying to survive and does it subconsciously . Out of main story when there isn’t a crisis and can somewhat relax Yuya is kinda childish, sassy at times, blunt , more on the quiet side,Petty,chaotic asking the most random questions, intrusive thoughts are likely to win but is deeply hurting on the inside.

Basic info

-Age : 18

He/her/ They

Voice claim: Eng-Veronica-Heathers the musical (OG) Jp-Ibuki mioda-Danganronpa

-height : 172

-Birthday : August 8

-dominant hand : Left

-Nicknames : Srimpy(Floyd) Yu-Yu (Cater, Lilia, Kalim) Trickster (Rook) Herivore or Omnivore if ignored (Leona) Child of man( Malleus) Human/Human perfect (Sebek) Yu(everyone else) Perfect (basically everyone but main after Book 3)

-favorite food: Chili oil noodles, candied lemon, strawberry lemonade

-hobbies/likes : Rhythm games,horror movies, collecting cute bags, scrapbooking/journaling , Photography, crocheting and knitting

-Dislikes: Bland food, Green tea, Fuzzy socks, Ants ,smell of alcohol, feeling sweaty, strong smells

-Pet peeve : Forgetting things

-Favorite subject: Alchemy

-club : hopes between clubs mostly at board game club

-Talent: lock picking, Cooking, Dodging

More info

- Has a bit of an obsession photography because they represent memories and Yuya doesn’t want to and scared to forget again

-Got called a beast tamer and ran with it, can make friends or form some kind of bond with all kinds of creatures, Ghosts etc.

-Yuya sleep walks and it gets worse over time

- trying to keep it together

- Will fight like her life depends on it even outside the overblots

-Yuya was really in denial of being in other world up until the end of book 2. Getting a scar from Leona’s OB was how it really settled in for Yuya that Twisted wonderland was not a dream. Before that his thinking was “I don’t belong here so surely someday I wake up and I’ll be back where I belong “ was how they were trying to rationalize being in an another world.(Didn’t get any scars from Riddle tho)

-Yuya is insecure about the scars they get not even like to look in the mirror

- After OB will get a dream of the full movie. Will have dreams about people outside of the OB like the staff members and will get full context after 3 dreams.

- Yuya doesn’t really good out of his way to talk to people most times it was others who introduce/ be introduced but if Yuya ran into someone they’ll still introduce themselves to be respectful.

- Took a bit for Yuya to warm up going out to talk to others (Ace, Deuce and Grim are bit of the exception given how they’re always around each other tho Yuya was mostly quiet in the beginning)

-Gave up on hope of ever being able to get home after book 4 and focus on trying to get their memories back

- Doesn’t ask for help for themselves but to help others or if Grim asks them to like in book 4

- got a staff weapon after book 2

-Starts to tired being the Perfect and having to help others is all they’re worth and scared to know what happens if they stop helping others,” will I be forced to leave Ramshackle is the only home I know”

- Skips a lot of orientation/assembly stuff. Some tried to scold Yuya “ Your the ramshackle perfect you need to set an example” along those lines but Yuya would just ignore it or respond “ Since when has anyone respected me as a Dorm leader”(Yuya doesn’t like the memory of orientation )

-Human arm rests taller or shorter doesn’t matter (Floyd,Leona,Cater,Ace are the main perpetrators)

-“Where did you get that!?!?” “…don’t worry about it”

Outfits

Backstory

Yuya after their mother passed got sent to live with her Aunt family. It was basically to make them look good and all must make it look like they were the perfect family.

Yuya didn’t really get to be their own person but the mold his aunt and uncle wanted which ties into why he doesn’t have a consistent personality

#twisted wonderland oc #twst yuu #twst oc #oc art #twisted wonderland #artists on tumblr #twisted oc #cheer!Yuya #twst yuu oc #yuu twst #art #cheer!art #oc #original character #oc lore #oc info

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teabights · 2 years

Text

Insecurity

Plot: uh you are insecure about your spot with Joseph

Pairing: Joseph x Reader

Mentions: Soft & Caring Joe. Molly Windsor (from Makeup), Natalia Dyer, Grace Van Dien, and Maya Hawk (from Stranger Things) (Also fictional Grace x Maya relationship mentioned)

WC: 1,147

Joseph watches you as you push around the food on your plate. You could feel his cocoa brown eyes burn holes into you. You get from the table.

"You're not going to eat?" He asks.

"I ate." You respond.

"Yeah, like two bites." He comments.

"I just lost my appetite." You shrug your shoulders.

You grab your plate and walk to the kitchen. You find the aluminum foil and cover your plate. You slide it into the fridge. You start to walk out of the kitchen, but Joseph is in the doorway.

"Do you feel okay?" His hand moves to feel your forehead to check your temperature like a good mother.

"Yeah, Joey, I am fine." You say, using the common nickname to help him know it is fine.

"Babe, you can talk to me. You know that." He speaks softly, trying to snake his arms around your waist, but you instantly push them off.

"I know I can talk to you. Can I please go lay down?" You ask.

"Yeah…" He moves himself from the threshold.

You walk yourself to the bedroom. You strip off your clothes from today. You put on one of his shirts for bed. His shirts were bigger on you and softer. You crawl into bed. You let out a slight huff. You grab your phone off the bedside table to play some lo-fi house music. You close your eyes, taking a small breath.

In the morning, you feel around for Joseph before your eyes shoot open. You feel your heart race slightly. Why didn't he come to bed? You hop out of bed and check the living room first. Your eyes lay on your half naked boyfriend, using one of the decorative pillows as an actual pillow and covering up with a small throw blanket. You lean down and shake him slightly.

"Joey," You say

"Mmm?" He groans out.

"Why did you sleep out here?" You ask.

"You seemed so…" His eyes open and lets out a small groan as he sits up on the couch. "We need a more comfy couch."

"I seemed what?" Your voice is a bit more agitated than you intended.

"Like you needed space. You barely ate dinner. What's going on with my love?" He pats the spot next to him.

You sit yourself down next to him, reaching for his hand and taking it like your life depended on it. "I don't know… I just felt… insecure. Like why would you pick me over like Molly or Natalia or… Grace. Ya know? Like they're much prettier than me."

"Babe… come on. Sure they're pretty but…" He starts.

"So you think they're pretty." You say.

"Please let me talk." He says and you nod. "They're not you. I have known you for half my life, y/n. I love you, a shit ton. You're my girl. You always have been. There is no way Grace or Natalia, or Molly could change my mind. I am yours, you know that. I am not one to throw away five years for a co-star."

"Co-stars you find cute." You say.

"Did you not hear anything I just said?" He asks

"I heard it." You say.

"I am not going to argue over whether or not I find co-stars cute even though there is nothing there. Natalia is just so sweet to everyone. Molly is so brilliant to work with. Grace is…" He trails off.

"What? She is what?" You ask a bit demanding.

"Dating Maya." He says. "You can't tell anyone though."

"She's dating Maya?" Your eyebrow raises.

"Yes. She has been since the season ended. They bonded. Grace was so excited to tell me." He mumbles

"But you still find her cute." You say.

"And so do you, so can we drop it?" He asks.

You stare at him for a moment before getting up from the couch and walking into the kitchen. You start the espresso maker, making an espresso. You get his favorite cup, placing it on the counter. You get a scoop spoon and the ice cream from the freezer. You scoop some ice cream into the cup you then pour the espresso in. You put a spoon into the cup. You put away the supplies. You walk it to the living room. Joseph did not move from his spot. He is scrolling through his phone.

"Here." You hand him the cup. You lean down and kiss his forehead.

"Thanks…" He says, his eyes not looking up from his phone.

"You're an ass… I am going to shower." You say as you walk to the bathroom.

Joseph glances into the cup, seeing the affogato you made him. He brings it up to take a sip. Perfect as always.

You run the shower and strip off the shirt and your underwear. You pull your hair up into a bun. You step under the stream, letting out a small sigh. After a few minutes, you hear the door open. Your naked boyfriend then evades your shower.

"Thank you for the affogato. I love you." He says as he grabs your loofah. He squeezes your body wash onto it then he starts to clean your arms.

"I love you." You say. "I am sorry for being…"

"I know sweetheart. Let me get you cleaned so we can go snuggle and watch your favorite movies." He says.

"Okay, thanks honey." You whisper.

He presses a little kiss to your lips. He gets you sud up everywhere and you rinse off. He puts the loofah up and gets the face wash.

"Close your eyes." He says.

"Yes sir." You whisper.

Your eyes fall shut and he uses the face wash on your face very gently. He also helps rinse that off of you. He gets out of the shower. He grabs two towels off the rack. He dries himself and puts the towel around his waist. He then turns off the water and holds the towel open for you. You step out of the shower and into the towel. He dries you off, pat drying your face. He takes a moment to tie the towel around you. He opens your moisturizer jar and smears some on your face. He then gently rubs it into your face. It is so lovely for you. You two go to the bedroom. He grabs your underwear (most likely his favorite pair) and a t-shirt of his. He walks back to you, untying the towel, and dressing you. You could get used to this honestly. He takes off his towel and pulls on a pair of boxer briefs. He puts the towel into the hamper. He takes your hand, leading you to the living room. He takes a moment to set up your favorite movie. Once he was back on the couch, you are in his lap, where you spend the rest of the day.

#joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfiction

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crymeariveronceagain · 2 years

Note

Keefe getting into fights

mkay but you gotta understand that you 100% asked for these feelings

The first time Elwin met his son, the kid was ten years old.

Elwin didn't know that was his son, yet. He'd figure that out later.

"It's not my fault!" Keefe's voice was high-pitched and screechy, affronted and sharp and everything a kid would be, when being dragged through the hallways, his nose bleeding profusely, tears in his eyes, his whole body trembling and shaking.

"You're a lying little brat," snapped Alina, as she dragged him. "I'm going to contact your parents."

Keefe looked like he was going to cry.

"What happened?" Elwin said, startled.

Alina sighed, deeply, dropping Keefe's arm with an exhausted air.

The little boy glared up at her with all the rage of ten forest fires.

"This kid was picking fights and got what was coming to him. Fix him up, will you, Elwin? I need to go hail Lord Sencen about his son. Again."

The little blonde boy winced.

Elwin nodded, once, his eyes still on the broken, bloody nose, on the kid in front of him. "You go do that, Alina. I'll handle this."

Alina huffed. "Good luck. He's a troublemaker, and--"

"Goodbye, Alina," Elwin said, shooting her a bored glance. "I can handle this."

Alina rolled her eyes, and then spun away, and the door slammed shut behind her.

The little boy winced. Elwin exhaled, sharply. "Stars," he said, "She's mean, huh?"

Two big, ice blue eyes looked up and met Elwin's gaze. Then, the kid nodded. "Yeah."

"What's your name, kid?"

"Keefe."

"Nice to meet you, Keefe. I'm Elwin. Wanna get your nose fixed?"

Keefe nodded, and then winced in pain.

So, Elwin dug out a Snotelek-Gro(tm) potion from his cupboard, and checked the ingredients. "What's your last name, Keefe? I need to make sure there's nothing in here that'll make you sick."

"Sencen," Keefe answered.

Elwin walked over to his files, and flipped through the S last names.

There was no Keefe Sencen. He looked again.

No Keefe.

"Hmm," Elwin said, out loud. "Is Keefe a nickname?"

Keefe looked upset. "It's my middle name."

"What's your first name?"

Keefe looked even more upset. "C...Cassius."

Elwin checked his files. Then he smiled. "Found it!"

Keefe looked like he was going to cry.

Elwin respectfully ignored it. "Alright," he said, "You don't have any allergies. Let's fix your nose up, huh?"

Keefe watched him, doubtfully, as though by asking for his first name, some boundary between them had been crossed, and he hated Elwin as much as he hated Alina.

Elwin poured out the correct potion dosage. He handed it to Keefe in the little cup. Keefe stared at it as though it was poison.

"It's gonna taste pretty gross," Elwin said, conversationally. "But it's like really cold bean mash. It's pretty nasty, but it's gonna make you feel a lot better. Then we can clean your nose, once we don't have to worry about it hurting anymore."

Keefe stared at the cup for ten seconds more. "Okay," he said, and chugged the potion.

His whole face squinched in disgust. "Blech," he said, "You're right, that's awful."

Cute, Elwin thought. "I know, right. I should really get a berry flavored one. But they want my medicines to taste bad so no one breaks in and tries to grow themselves another arm for fun."

Keefe's eyes went wide. "You can do that?"

"Only if you want to drink potions like that one you just drank but worse," Elwin said, with a note of warning.

Keefe's shoulders dropped in sorrow. Elwin decided he liked this kid.

He put gloves on and helped clean the kid's face off. He hoped he wouldn't see the kid for a while, and that he'd stay out of whatever trouble he'd been starting.

But, Elwin saw him three weeks later, this time being dragged by Sir Rosings.

"What's the problem?" Elwin asked.

"Fighting," snapped Sir Rosings. "Honestly, my one day to deal with children, the little ones, and there's a huge fight! And this one is all to blame!"

"No I'm not!" Keefe half-shouted. "It's not my fault! Markiel started it!"

Sir Rosings rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna call his father. You deal with this mess."

Elwin glanced at Keefe.

The poor kid had a black eye and a split lip.

Part of Elwin wondered where the other kids were. Had they just beat up Keefe, but gotten away without a scratch? It seemed unlikely that that would have just been any old fight, then.

He helped Keefe over to the cot he had on the side of the room. The kid looked like he was about to fall over. Elwin checked him for a concussion. He seemed okay. Just needed an ice pack or two for his face.

"What happened, Keefe?" Elwin asked, finally. "You're a good kid. What's up with the fights?"

Keefe looked like he was about to cry.

Elwin sighed, and then pulled out two ice packs. "This one's for your face," he said, "This one's for your lip."

He grabbed a stuffed animal from his cupboard full of stuffed animals, and handed it to Keefe. The little boy's eyes widened.

"What kind of animal is this?"

"A gulon," Elwin said, brightly. "They're super stinky, but super cute."

Keefe nodded, and held it close to him.

"Wanna talk about what happened?"

Keefe shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

"I still did something wrong."

Elwin wondered what was going on in this kid's head, and why he seemed so tired, so world-weary, so exhausted. "Why?"

Keefe's eyes teared up, and Elwin watched as he tried to choke it down. It was a little disturbing to watch a ten-year-old try to stop themselves from crying with a practiced ability of one of the elite level students that Elwin always saw and thought had been told too often that crying was only for girls when they were little.

He looked at the kid, the little little boy, and decided to take a gamble. "You know," he said, "This room is the crying room, honestly."

Keefe blinked, startled. "Huh?"

"This is the place people are always allowed to cry in, because if you're here, something hurts. So you never have to try not to cry when you're here. I always tell that to these older boys, who are taking Elite classes. They always try not to cry, but I always say, "It's okay to cry if it hurts."

Keefe looked like he didn't believe Elwin, but some of the tension left his shoulders. "They were being mean to Fitz."

"Fitz... Vacker? That nice boy who broke his arm two months ago and needed pain medication every day for a while?"

Keefe nodded. "He's my best friend."

"Isn't he a year older than you?"

"We're in the same level."

Elwin nodded. "Why were they being mean to him?"

"He's always so perfect, and no one likes being worse than him," Keefe's face got angry. "And they make fun of him. Behind his back. They call him mean names and talk about how he's cheating and how he's stupid and how he's only the top of the class because his dad's a powerful Lord."

Elwin blinked.

"And today," Keefe's face got even angrier, like little flames had lit behind his light blue eyes. "They said something so mean and Fitz heard it. And he got all sad and scared because he works really really hard to be good at school. He's actually really bad at reading, but he has to pretend to be super good, because he wants to get really good grades, and so he got all sad and I got super mad and I had to get them," Keefe sighed, softly. "But they got me first."

Elwin listened, quiet. "Maybe talk to a teacher?"

Keefe looked as though Elwin had advised him to eat a worm. "I have! They don't think it happens."

Elwin nodded, slowly. "I believe you. I used to get bullied a lot in school."

Keefe's eyes went wide. "Why?"

Elwin tapped his glasses. "They thought I looked weird."

Keefe sighed, and then collapsed back on the bed. "I wish I'd been able to hit them harder."

Elwin sighed. "No," he said, going over to his files to write up a report of the incident. "That's not gonna help anything. They'll just match that way of dealing with problems."

"Yeah?"

Elwin nodded. "If you hit someone, they'll wanna hit you back. Or they'll go after Fitz."

Keefe's eyes went wide. "Oh."

"You better figure out a different way to handle the situations," Elwin said. "I know you can."

Keefe nodded.

Elwin saw him again the next week.

And the week after that.

Each time for a fight.

Elwin watched the kid with concern.

Every time he got in a fight, the teacher would snarl something about calling his parents, and the kid would flinch, but would get a look in his eyes that made Elwin nervous.

"Call my mom," Keefe said, one day, to Magnate Leto. "Call my mom instead of my dad, please."

The Magnate looked at the kid.

Elwin looked at the kid.

"Your father is your preferred contact."

"He's not preferred to me!"

Elwin glanced at the Magnate.

Leto blinked, then nodded. "I'll call your mother, today."

And Keefe lit up.

Elwin worried.

Months passed, and the kid kept getting into fights, constantly. Elwin just, watched.

Helped. Offered support.

Bandaged the kid's cuts and bruises. Patched up another kid's broken nose.

One day, Elwin decided to do some reading.

There was an article, published in some journal.

It caught his eye because it was titled, "The Many Reasons Aggression Occurs in Young Children."

He read it, quietly.

There were many reasons.

It could be a coping mechanism, he read, if someone has a lot of pent up feelings that they can't get out. It could be taught, that fighting was the way to solve their problems. It could be from boredom, from a level of dissatisfaction.

The last one caught his eye.

Children will also act on aggression to receive attention.

Elwin blinked at it.

He kept reading.

In unstable, neglectful households, it can be common for young children to act aggressively towards their peers in order to receive attention, no matter what kind, from adults in their lives. Parents need to pay attention to children who cause trouble. Teachers need to pay attention to children who cause trouble. Troublemakers get noticed, and if a child needs to be noticed, they will often do whatever it takes to get noticed, even if that involves getting hurt or acting agressively.

Elwin re-read that paragraph.

And he read it again.

The next paragraph started with the line: The worst thing to do here is to ignore the child, or give them only negative attention.

Elwin blinked.

If they receive only negative attention, but they are still starved for attention in general, they will seek out that attention, even at the cost of themselves. However, if the child associates positive attention or care with their aggressive behavior, this will just encourage them to do it more often.

Elwin exhaled, softly.

Well.

He knew what he had to do.

Keefe showed up in his office the next day, battered and bruised as usual.

"Hey, Kiddo," Elwin said, happily. "I wondered when you were gonna show up."

Keefe blinked, seemingly startled.

"Who's the teacher today?"

"Sir Rosings got mad and made me walk myself. He's calling my dad right now."

Elwin nodded. "Let's get you patched up, and get you back to class, huh?"

He watched the kid go over to the cupboard where Elwin kept his bandages.

Elwin watched the kid fix himself up, while chattering absently about life, and friends, and who he'd been fighting, and why he'd gotten in the fight, and he sat down on the bed, and smiled, brightly at Elwin.

Elwin looked at the little kid, and understood exactly what was going on.

"Hey, Keefe?"

Keefe smiled brighter. "What?"

"You know you don't have to be hurt to come hang out with me, right?"

Keefe blinked. "You're a nurse."

"But you don't have to be hurt to come see me. You can just come to hang out."

Fear flickered through the little boy's eyes. "Are you mad I'm here?"

Elwin quickly shook his head. "Nah, kid. I just wondered if you knew you didn't have to be hurt to come see me. It's fine if you come see me just to talk."

Keefe looked down at the floor, and then nodded.

"Wanna come back tomorrow? I can give you a sucker from the candy jar if you didn't get in another fight."

Keefe's whole face lit up. He smiled like sunshine had drenched him. "You mean it? Do I get to pick what flavor?"

Elwin nodded. "You just can't get in another fight."

Keefe nodded, excited. "I won't! I promise!"

He was back the next day, his face bright, and he took his sucker with a thrill that only a ten-year-old can.

Elwin felt some small level of relief flood him. At least this kid wouldn't be fighting so much. And, if he lost a ton of suckers just to accomplish that, it would be worth it.

#kotlc #kotlc dadwin #dadwin #kotlc keefe #keefe sencen #thanks for the ask!#kotlc headcanon #kotlc headcanons #kotlc keefe sencen #kotlc elwin #elwin heslege #kotlc elwin heslege #keefe heslege #keefe headcanon #tw fighting #tw bullying #elwin kotlc #elwin adopts keefe au

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cutiecrpze · 1 year

Text

“Ah, a shooting star! They say that anything you wish for when a shooting star passes will come true. How about we make one right now!”

Name: Faye “Yuu” Estrellas (Though, She normally goes by Faye ) Pronouns: She/They

Nicknames: Herbivore( Leona ) , Little Shrimpy (Floyd ), Mademoiselle Trickster ( Rook ), Little Beastie ( Malleus ).

Age: 16

Birthday: April 16th

Height: 157cm

Gender: Female

Family: ???

Homeland: ???

Twisted From: N/A

Class: 1-A

Dorm: Ramshackle

Occupation: Student

Club: N/A ( but she’s looking to join one! )

Best Subject: N/A

Dominant Hand: Right

Favorite Food: Grilled Cheese Sandwich

Likes: Music, writing, decorating, cute things, and pastel colors.

Dislikes: Rude people, Messes, Cockroaches and most bugs.

Hobby: Writing

Talent(s): She actually has a pretty good singing voice,it’s just that they’re very insecure about it.

Personality: If you asked people to describe Faye, the answers would vary, some would say she’s a bit of a klutz, others would say that they try their best with what they have But, one thing for sure is that Faye is the most exuberant member of ramshackle dorm, constantly bursting into songs from her world while cleaning around the dormitory, or hoarding all the pink and cute things they can find. Nevertheless,Faye has a heart of gold and always treats people with kindness and respect ,so long as they treat her with the same respect they give to them.

Backstory:

[ AN OLD BOOK OF FAIRYTALES APPEARS BEFORE YOU,MAGICALLY TURNING TO A CERTAIN STORY..]

The Sick Girl and Her Wishing Star

“ Once upon a time, there was a young girl.

She was like all the other girls, she liked the morning and the sun and hated the dark, and she loved to imagine and play pretend.

But, this girl was quite sick, and was confined to her room. She was very sad that she couldn’t go out to play like the other kids, but she settled with what she had, her imagination.

Everyday, she was someone different, a Princess one day and an adventurer the next. It was the most she could do, the closest the young girl could get to the outside world.

One night, the young girl looked out the window,noticing that a shooting star had just passed by. Her eyes lit up as she made her wish.

‘ ‘ I wish that I would stop being sick, that I could finally be able to go outside and play.. I wish I could be like a Princess, and be saved from my room by a handsome knight, so that I can finally be free.. ‘ ‘

As the girl laid her head down and drifted off to sleep, she heard someone whispering into her ear.

‘ ‘ Don’t worry, your wish has been granted.. ‘ ‘

And so the girl- “

[ THE BOOK CLOSES, AS IF NOT WANTING YOU TO READ ANYMORE..]

TRIVIA

If you couldn’t tell,Faye is largely based off of me and my personal issues, though ,I don’t have an illness myself. (Thank god)

Estrellas is Spanish for stars

Though Faye isn’t twisted from anyone,I took inspo from a couple Disney princesses for her personality.

She’s also a tad bit based off the star in Pinocchio ,like the smallest bit.

#Faye “Yuu” Estrellas #twst self insert #twst mc #twst yuu #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #faye’s ocs #faye’s adventures in wonderland

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gianninnaa · 1 year

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is that giannina castro ? a freshman originally from anaheim , ca , they decided to come to ogden college to study music . they’re the influencer on campus , but even they could get blamed for greer’s disappearance .

basics

name: giannina castro. nickname: g, gia, gigi, nina. date of birth: june 5th 2003. age: nineteen. zodiac: gemini sun, leo moon, taurus rising. gender: cis woman. pronouns: she/her. sexuality: bisexual. hometown: anaheim, ca. major: music. trope: the influencer.

personality

positive traits: ebullient, grandiose & affable. negative traits: profligate, fickle & superficial. character inspo: jackie burkhart (that 70’s show), emma mountebank (the quarry), sharpay evans (high school musical), daisy jones (daisy jones and the six), serena van der woodsen (gossip girl), hanna marin (pretty little liars), haley dunphy (modern family), alexis rose (schitt's creek) – some more than others. likes: lip gloss, moscato, sweet candy scented perfumes, glitter, being adored, lively parties, having someone to take pictures for her in public, white chocolate, shopping, the feeling of having your hair and nails both freshly done, cats, validation. dislikes: dirt, spiders, being ignored, walking home alone after a party, super drying matte liquid lips, the combination of chocolate and orange, fireball. habits: dots her i & j with hearts, twirls her hair when she thinks, shamelessly takes photos in public, still writes in her diary, if you hold her hand- she will swing it while you walk, blows bubbles whenever she has bubblegum, laughs when she's nervous. skills: batting her eyelashes to get whatever she wants, writing songs, figure skating, symmetrical winged liner, cheerleading, can make conversation with anyone. flaws: tries too hard, gossips, switches sides when it suits her, compares herself to others, takes no being like very very personally, changes to be what she thinks people want from her. aesthetics: becoming the ideal and losing yourself in the process, the battle between girlhood and godhood, perfume clinging to silk sheets, a lonely mansion on top of a hill, clinking of champagne flutes, the future is covered in roses, late nights spent dancing under the moonlight, girlhood forfeited in lieu of greatness, laughter like sodapop, venus in her scallop shell, multiple hearts but not one is capable to love, shooting for the stars because the earth is not enough, the chaos of a lively city, warm as the sun and burning as bright, childhood dies with thundering applause.

physical appearance

faceclaim: jenna ortega. height: she's 5'1, but she's always wearing some kind of heel or platform. even casually, she's got a cute lil pair of chunky white platform sneakers. she says being taller makes her legs look longer, so she'll never give it up. hair: the cutest little curtain bangs bc i love them!! she's very very on trend. all the little braids and space buns that have come into fashion are so gia. heat styles her hair every day. makeup: she doesn't go Crazy on her makeup. she has a stupid long skin care routine to make sure she always appears as flawless as she wants people to believe she is. light weight foundation that lets her freckles show through. winged liner and half lash is a staple. gloss > lipstick any day,, but like a tinted gloss. she's still fun. fashion: gia doesn't have a set style of her own. she just follows the trends. back in the day, trends lasted a little longer. now?? all those micro trends? girl buys a new closet like every month.

connection to the trope

giannina’s life has been in front of the camera since the day she was born. every talent show or dance recital recorded by her parents. photos from every first day of school, birthday, school dance, and everything in between. it was just another part of her life. like every other teenager growing up in the ‘10s, gia had social media. none of it was out of the ordinary until 2019. giannina’s tiktok account was mostly just slice of life content. messing around with her friends, outfit checks, lip syncing to her favourite song. she got a decent amount of follower from simply being attractive one the internet, but she didn’t really start to blow up until she started posting her songs. originals, covers – they started the career gia has now. the more she posted, the more followers she got. though she'd like to say she worked hard to get where she is now, that’s not really true. she just got lucky. her rising stardom was basically an overnight change. at least, that’s how it felt. suddenly, there were brand deals, teen choice awards, invites to red carpet events, record deals. it was perfect. original songs became a bigger part of her platform now that she was actually able to start releasing singles. more vlogging / day in the life style posts to show all the glamorous things she was doing (with a touch of “i’m just like you!”) get ready and unready with me. gia constantly has her phone on her; insta stories, tiktoks showing her life here at ogden. she’s a social media princess, and she intends on getting even bigger. ( career inspo – charli d'amelio, loren grey, nessa barrett )

connection to greer

her relationship to greer is one big “ what could have been ”. at least, that’s what gia says to anyone who will listen. two ships in the night, greer unfortunately going missing right before giannina’s freshman year. all she could do was mourn the ‘big sister mentor’ figure she’d never get to make greer. the truth, however, was a little less simple. when looking into ogden college, it was impossible to miss whispers about their very own golden girl. gia didn’t attend that party just for greer– she isn’t crazy– but when they found themselves in the same room, gia couldn’t let the opportunity pass. everyone would be swarming her when school started. even though giannina knew she could command an entire room’s attention, she didn’t want to lump herself in with the pathetic crowd begging for salvation. she approached the other girl at the party, champagne flute in her hand like an offering to some goddess. they hit it off the way gia knew they would. by the time she was walking into college, she’d already be royalty without having to try. who knew so much work and planning went into seeming effortless! it was all perfect until the news broke about greer going missing. while many people believe gia would operate on some kind of “there’s no such thing as good or bad attention, just attention!” mindset, that couldn’t be further from the truth. greer’s drama seemed messy and complicated, so gia severed all ties. forgot every word they spoke to each other (the drinks flowing definitely helped). all greer ever was or ever would be to gia is an almost. hmm, if only she remembered to purge her insta as well as her memories!

headcanons

💓 tba!

wanted connections

𝑷𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑪 💓 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 — young, wild and free; that’s always been the goal. you’ve both met your match. though you probably bring out the worst in each other, you have so much fun when you’re with them. something that burns this bright is bound to burn out quickly, but it’s going to be one hell of a ride until you crash! 💓 𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 / 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐢𝐚 — tba! 💓 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 — someone that followed gia on social media before she came to ogden. 💓 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 — in the eye of a hurricane, there is a quiet kind of peaceful. they bring out this kind of stability in gia. they don’t force her into it or make her feel bad when she has those days she feels like she can’t slow down, they just embrace her regardless. gia knows she always has a safe place to land, whether it’s controlled or a crash. 𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑶𝑵𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑪 💓 “𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐞” — point blank: gia is a bit of a fake. though she's charming to most, this is someone that just sees right through her act. they don't buy any of her fake kindness. 💓 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐚 — tba! 💓 𝐞𝐱-𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 — tba! 𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑰𝑪 💓 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 — it’s hard not to fall for someone like gia. handing affection out like candy, it was only a matter of time before someone took her seriously. sometimes it escapes her mind that some people flirt for love rather than fun. other times, she truly were just being friendly and now has someone pointing the finger and saying she led them on. 💓 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 — tba! 💓 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 — there was a small talking stage between them, but it ended- or more accurately, fizzled out- when gia stopped responding to them. could be on bad terms/hurt/upset by it or neutral/not caring. 💓 f𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 — similar, but gia friendzoned them. could be mutual friendzoning, could be bitter, anything!

#❪ 💓 ❫ 𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨. ˖ . ֺ ָ ֙⋆ ་ musings.#ogdenintro

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einsatzzz · 1 year

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The OC Questions!! I must asssk!

For Kurumi:

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

☄️ COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?

🔥 FIRE - do they have any self destructive tendencies? what habits do they have that hinder them from becoming their best self?

For Kana:

📖 OPEN BOOK - do they like reading? what's their favourite genre?

🌠 SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

💔 BROKEN HEART - what could their partner do that would absolutely break their heart?

For Yui 💜:

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

🌠 SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

☄️ COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?

💌 LOVE LETTER - do they like love letters? what kind of messages do they leave for their partner?

Thank you for sending these questions Muffin! 🥰 I tried doing some extra doodles too hahaha

Kurumi

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

She has an upbeat voice but not too loud, which is around moderate volume so she can be heard clearly. But she can make her voice very loud if she wants to, especially when excited. She usually speaks in a casual tone and often uses nicknames for friends like "Goku", Take-chan", "Nii-chan" (Ryohei), "Hiyorin" etc. She uses Boku (ボク) to refer to herself.

Her voice claim is Hinata Satou! I linked a sample too (the VA voiced Mizuki here):

Link

We got most of our voice claims from ProSeka ngl hahaha but this one fits kurumi so well

☄️ COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?

Most people assume she's a girl, they're both right and wrong. She doesn't mind, since it doesn't matter that much. The only thing that matters is that she wears cute clothing/fashion without worries. A very important warning is to not refer to her as a cross-dresser when she switches around cute masculine & feminine clothing because Kana and Yui will murder the person who ever says that.

I will make her wear all the cute clothing, it's what she deserves.

🔥 FIRE - do they have any self destructive tendencies? what habits do they have that hinder them from becoming their best self?

I guess being selfless enough to be willing to sacrifice yourself can be considered as a self-destructive tendency. She's also very forgiving. If someone were to stab her maliciously, she'll still forgive them in the end somehow.

A habit that hinders her from becoming her best self is her hard-headed refusal to change. For example, she's really good at hand-to-hand combat but didn't really have much preference for using her weapon. So during training periods when she was younger, she only trained on hand-to-hand combat and didn't really focus much on handling her weapon. It proved to be very disadvantageous down the line because she'd have less options in battle and she can't use the weapon to it's full potential.

Kana

📖 OPEN BOOK - do they like reading? what's their favourite genre?

To a certain extent you can say she likes reading. She mainly does it to either pass the time quietly in an idle way (she doesn't like loud noises) or if she wants to do studies/research on certain things (mostly family-related matters).

If there was a genre that she frequents, it would be autobiographies or semi-autobiographies. A notable example would be "No Longer Human" by Osamu Dazai. Between fiction and non-fiction works, she reads non-fiction works more. She does read *all* the romance-centered shoujo manga Kurumi recommends but parts of it leaves her a bit confused and a few headaches.

🌠 SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

With absolutely no negative repercussions at all? A wish to fade away in peace (oblivion) and a bright future for her family. She would prefer to die now while she's still at her most "peaceful" point in her life, since she knows it's temporary. Similar to Reborn&co (but not exactly the same), she is a bit of a "cursed child" herself.

BUT only if there's no repercussions though, she knows it would leave her family in shambles if she actually just disappears out of nowhere.

Other extreme scenarios: where her partner gets killed or dies (before she does); or on the flip side, if the partner somehow fatally harms/kills other people that are also most important to her.

Sometimes, I wonder if Reborn can actually read people's minds. Most likely, he's just extremely good at reading people in general.

💔 BROKEN HEART - what could their partner do that would absolutely break their heart?

This question is so angsty, definitely her genre haha but can u really break something that's already long broke---

Betrayal of trust and abandonment - since she already prefers spending time alone, away from people in general and her full trust is only something that she gives out so very very rarely. For someone to become her partner (a significant other or a bestfriend), a huge amount of trust, respect and attachment must be involved. If all of that were to just be thrown away, it would be too cruel and brutal, akin to continuously kicking someone's already dead body. (kana love interest, pls don't actually break her heart 😢 we alr broke it plenty enough)

Yui

📣 MEGAPHONE - how loud are they? what do they speak like? got a voice claim?

He has a laidback voice with a playful tone to it often. It's not that loud, but he can be loud when he is in the mood to annoy people. Depending on the person, he either refers to other people casually, reuse the nicknames Kurumi uses on them or come up with a a really bad one. He uses Boku (ボク) to refer to himself, but sometimes also uses Ore (俺).

His voice claim is Daisuke Hirose! This sample should be closer to what we're going for? It sounds silly enough, which suits him.

Link

🌠 SHOOTING STAR - if they could make any wish with no repercussions, what wish would they make?

All the time in the world to create masterpieces of inventions after another. Creating and fiddling with machines has been a long-time passion of his after all. He would especially love to be able to finish some of his long-term projects (there are even ones that he started when he was just a small kid).

Initially, many people think he's a slacker or a bad student, since he often skips class (he attends just enough to not have problems with moving up grades), but he actually has excellent grades whenever he takes quizzes and exams, which shuts any angry teachers off. There are also others that think that he isn't being a proper "right-hand man", but he surprisingly takes it seriously in his own way. He genuinely cares for the twins, plus a lot of things were sacrificed to get this position too, after all.

FYI Room arrangement is: Master's Bedroom (Ninomiya Parents), Kurumi, Kana, Yui

☄️ COMET - what do people assume about them? are they right?

💌 LOVE LETTER - do they like love letters? what kind of messages do they leave for their partner?

He receives love letters often and is very open to receiving them as well, so you could say he likes it. If he ever does get to have his ideal partner, I can imagine him leaving mixed stupid and affectionate messages to them to get a reaction, though it would only be an occasional thing.

#ask #ninomiya kurumi #ninomiya kanako #yorimitsu yui #oniyanagi #muffin #ty for sending these questions!#onto the next one!#omg wait now that i think abt it #kana's previous oc/canon ship technically did break her heart to some extent *scratches head*#to a lesser extent perhaps kurumi's too?#well we call them kanarumi's exes now #*cough*can someone*cough*in khr*cough*please*cough*step up*cough*for these two*cough*#also feeling wishy-washy with kana's voice claim again might suggest some adjustments so good thing it didn't get asked yet whew #feeling funny might go back & post yknrm in their previous oc/canon shenanigans lmfaooo #khr oc #einart

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wil-is-done · 1 year

Text

The Villainess & the Heroine - Chapter 3: Girl Next Door

Summary: Sasha Waybright, a.k.a. Violet Calamity, one of the top generals of the Calamity Legion, has been dispatched to a quiet beachside town to deal with some upstart hero who’s been impeding the Legion’s operations in the area. The whole thing should’ve taken her about five minutes. Only problem is, no one told her this new hero is apparently a really, really cute girl? Who is totally her type?

Villainess quits evil organization because she’s too gay for the main heroine.

Word Count: 3.241

IMPORTANT NOTE: This is a repost.

Anne groans, shifting in her sleeping bag, and Sasha quickly shoves her phone under the blanket and spins around to face the wall.

She hears more shifting, rustling, a cough and a sniff, and the sound of a phone unlocking. When she guesses that Anne’s risen to a sitting position, she exaggerates a yawn, does a few performative stretches as if she hasn’t been awake for hours, and sits up too.

Anne, with the cutest bedhead hair and the cutest sleepy smile, glances her way and greets, “Morning, Sash.”

Sasha preens. Anne’s new nickname for her, for how simple and short it is, never fails to make her heart flutter. “Morning.”

True to her word from last night, Anne seems completely unbothered by the fact that she slept on the floor with little more than a ratty sleeping bag. As if not satisfied with showing off how inhumanly kind she is by letting Sasha live with her, she doubled down by offering Sasha to use her bed for the night, not taking no for an answer. It almost makes Sasha feel guilty for the, like, three hundred pictures she took of Anne while she’s sleeping.

Almost. Not her fault Anne’s so damn cute.

Anne reaches up and does a full body stretch. Sasha silently thanks the universe for the view. “So. First day on the good guys’ side. You ready?” she asks.

“For anything.” Sasha smirks, eyes narrowed, challenging and threatening.

Which goes unnoticed because Anne’s attention is back on her phone. “And first on the agenda is…”

Sasha pouts. Also unnoticed. “Shopping.”

“Yeap.” A giggle bubbles out of Anne’s lips. “Because you think you’re above instant ramen.”

“I don’t think. I am.” Sasha grabs the hem of the shitty shirt she somehow still allows to exist. “And I’m not wearing this shirt a second time.”

“A’ight, princess. Lemme whip up breakfast first.” Anne rolls out of her sleeping bag, kicks it aside for now, and jumps to her feet. “It’s not ramen. Promise.”

Sasha watches Anne’s back as she crosses the room, closely, dreamily. It’s still sort of surreal what’s happening - living with Sapphire Star herself and eating food prepared by her. If she knew this is the reward for a heel-face turn, she would’ve turned long ago. Imagine how much nicer this can be if Anne’s preparing proper food and they’re both wearing better clothes.

Sasha pulls her phone out from the under the covers and holds it close to her chest. She’ll have to buy a new memory card for her phone too. The one she has is already full. Her phone might not be able make calls or use data, but damn can it take pictures in the dark, and shoot videos in low light, and record cute sleepy little mewls.

She’s so busy drooling over the image in her head that she almost missed Anne trying to sneak out a packet of instant ramen.

“Hey!”

“Okay! Okay. Just messin’ with ya.”

Sasha’s beloved black dress still needs time to dry, unfortunately, so Anne gave her full access to her wardrobe to choose from. Sasha picks out a combo of plain magenta blouse and faded jeans before she can think about it too much. The taste is still questionable, but anything’s better than that shitty t-shirt. Anne suddenly makes a noise, and reaches into the back of her wardrobe. She still has one more surprise in store for her - Sasha’s leopard print coat that she abandoned back at the construction site.

“Yeah, thought I could use it to track you down or something,” Anne explains. “Completely unnecessary, turns out.”

Anne tosses her the coat. Sasha quickly, eagerly slips it on, and remembers a second later to flash Anne a thankful smile.

The air outside must be quite cold, because Anne wraps a jacket around herself before stepping out. Sasha doesn’t feel it much, like with everything else, but she wraps her coat closer to her because she sees Anne doing it. The apartment is on the second floor, leading to an open corridor. She leans against the railing, gazing out into the gray sky and the surrounding neighborhood, waiting while Anne fiddles with her keys to lock her - their - apartment.

“Hey, can I ask you one thing?” Anne starts as she pockets the keys. “When you’re out and about on your own, try not to let the neighbors see you? I kiiiinda took you in without telling anyone, and we don’t need ‘em getting all snoopy on us.”

Sasha twists her lips. She doesn’t do incognito. “Say they see me, and they ask who I am. What should I say?”

Anne scratches the back of her head, before shrugging. “I ‘unno. My girlfriend?”

Asdfghjklsdfjsjashdjds

Anne laughs. “Bad joke, sorry.” She hums, thinking again, until she blows out a puff of air. “Ehhhh. I dunno. We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Anne turns and heads for the stairs, leaving Sasha clinging to the railing to not fall on her ass. She swallows, finds strength back in her legs to stand properly again, and follows after Anne. An old instinct, so deeply ingrained in her, tells her to pick up the pace. To walk side by side with Anne, maybe even take the lead, but she decides not to. She’s a huge fan of the view from back here.

They are almost past the door to the right of Anne’s apartment when it suddenly swings open.

“Anna Banana!”

A blur rushes out of the room and wraps their arms around Anne’s neck. Anne is too surprised to resist against it.

Sasha isn’t. And she’s quick. She rushes in. Clutches the attacker by the scruff of their neck, and pulls. There is no resistance, no struggle, as they lose their grip on Anne - it’s laughable. She follows with a left hook, landing a bullseye on their neck, and slams them against the wall by the throat. Wall and bone alike cracks. The attacker twitches, spasms, before she feels the body going limp under her fingers.

“Oh my god! Sasha!”

Sasha chuckles. Still got it. “A little rat thought she can ambush us.” She looks over her shoulder, meeting Anne’s horrified expression with cool composure. “Don’t worry, she’s-” A wheeze, and coughs. She whips her head back, and sees droplets of blood on her hand and wrist. “…still alive?”

It’s as if the attacker returns from the dead. Their hand grabs the wrist of the hand pinning them in place, they push against the wall, and the world turns, becomes a blur. Sharp pain on her cheek brings the world back to focus, and Sasha suddenly finds herself prone, a foot pushing her head against the floor and her left arm painfully yanked behind her. She strained to look behind her, teeth bared and gritted, and is matched by a dark scowl and piercing greens.

“Wanna try that again, bitch?”

“Hey, hey, hey, hey, no!” Anne swoops in, a hand on Sasha’s arm and another on the attacker’s shoulder, and pushes the two apart. “No killing each other!”

Sasha rolls to her feet, and falls to a practiced stance. Attacker bitch jumps back, distractedly rubbing her neck - serves her fucking right - also falling into a not-half-bad guarded stance. Anne stands in the middle, in the way, staring both of them down for a second, before sighing, and massaging the bridge of her nose.

“Sheesh. Okay. That is probably the worst way to hit things off.” She steps closer to attacker bitch and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Sasha, this is Marcy. She’s a friend, and my next door neighbor.”

Attacker bitch - Marcy, apparently - twitches almost imperceptibly when Anne touches her. Anne gives her a disarming smile, gesturing towards Sasha. “Marcy, this is Sasha. She’s… going to be living with me for a while.”

Marcy quirks an eyebrow, gaze moving to Sasha. Then, slowly and carefully, she drops her stance and straightens up. “Nice to meet you,” she says, flat yet polite.

Like hell Sasha’s going to drop her guard, but then she spots Anne, screaming at her with her eyes to chill out. She clicks her tongue, throws her eyes aside, and switches off from killer mode. “Likewise.”

Sasha’s eyes fall on her fist. Is she really that weak? Did the injury really fuck her up more than she thought? But, no. She felt something break. And- she stares up at the crack she left on the wall, like a spider web spreading to the floor and the ceiling. She did that. She cracked the wall. Then how the fuck-?

“So! Marcy!” Anne puts on a big smile and turns to face Marcy. “Didn’t think you’d be around, dude. Thought you were still out of town.”

One last suspicious glance at Sasha, then Marcy returns Anne’s attention, not quite smiling but not tense anymore. “Just got back yesterday morning. I would have come see you sooner, but I’ve been busy unpacking. Then I got so tired I passed out.”

Anne’s smile turns real mushy. “Aww, ya didn’t hafta push yourself like that to see me. Glad you rested up,” she says, ruffling Marcy’s hair.

Marcy giggles. “You’re worth the effort.” She smiles up at Anne, softly, dreamily, with a weird glint in her eyes. Hey. No. No, no, no. Hell no. That ain’t gucci. Hate that. Absolutely hate that, by a lot.

Then suddenly Marcy swivels back to Sasha, the dreamy mushy lovey-dovey eyes replaced with cold, analytical disdain. Hate that too. Reminds her of someone she used to work with.

“You. Sasha, right?” Her eyes narrow in a way that’s just begging to be sucker punched. “Anne’s apartment is tiny. Barely enough room for one. And yet you’re suddenly bunking with her.”

But Sasha knows how to keep her cool. Keep up appearances. “Yeah. And?” she shoots back, face as still as a corpse.

“What’s up with that? Why would she do that? Who are you to her?”

Anne’s face drops, Sasha’s breath halts a little. Shit. The bridge has to be crossed a lot sooner than they thought. Honestly, this ho can go to hell.

“Nosy, aren’t you?” deflects Sasha with a sneer.

“When it’s worth it, yes,” she nods, undeterred.

Anne steps in, though it’s plain to see her easy demeanor is cracking. “Marce, really, it’s chill. Sasha’s, uh… is, uh…” She trails into silence, but then she snaps her fingers, her face lighting up, like she just thought up something brilliant. “She’s my cousin!”

Cousin?!

“Cousin?”

“Yep! From- Russia!”

From Russia?

“From Russia?” Marcy repeats, rightfully, thoroughly confused. “You have cousins in Russia?”

For how proud Anne looks about this answer, she sure doesn’t look ready for follow-up questions. “Yep! Yeah, we Boonchuys, we- we really get around all over the place. Russia, Italy, Qatar - no mountain too tall, no valley low enough, or however that one song goes. Er, my grandpa’s an explorer, you know.”

“Isn’t your grandpa a tailor?”

“My other grandpa! Is what I mean! From, uh, my dad’s side.”

What is happening.

“She’s got business in town, and rather than have her waste money on some crappy motel, I offered her to stay at my place.” Anne looks way too pleased of her flimsy, cobbled together explanation. But, if that’s the cover that Anne chooses, then Sasha can roll with it.

“Yeah. It really shouldn’t take long. Maybe a week, two at most,” she adds, with a casual roll of the shoulders.

“Uh huh.” Marcy’s not buying it one bit. Of course she doesn’t. Nosy little shit’s too smart for her own good. “Sasha, can I talk with Anne for a bit? In private?”

“No.”

Anne moves between them again. “It’s, uh, fine- really fine, Sash. I’ll just be a sec.” Her voice is shaking, jokey, but the pointed look she shoots Sasha is anything but.

Marcy wraps her grubby hands around Anne’s arm - motherfucker - from behind and drags her into the room where she attacked from, and closes the door behind her. Sasha let out an annoyed puff of air, before pressing an ear against the door. She’s invaded worlds; invading privacy is nothing.

She hears mostly Anne at first, mumbling a nonstop string of words in a voice too low for Sasha to make out. Whatever she’s saying, sounds like she’s desperate to finish the conversation before it starts.

“Anne,” Marcy interrupts her, the rude little fuck, “I will ask you again. Is she really a cousin of yours?”

“Yeah! Of course! Why would I lie about that?” Anne retorts, unconvincingly.

“Because you are way too nice for your own good? Like, it’s a complex or something. It’s seriously a problem. And your ‘cousin’ seems like the type to take, like, three hundred pictures of you while you’re sleeping.”

Sasha nearly chokes on her own breath. How-?

“She’s cool, Marce. She’s- she just hit a rough patch. I’m helping her get through it.” Anne sounds so soft, so earnest, that the tiniest little spark of warmth in Sasha’s cold, dead heart comes very close to springing to life. “Trust me on this. No need to worry.”

There’s a long, long, long silence, broken only by a very faint, resigned, “Fine.”

When the door opens and Marcy and Anne emerge from the room, Sasha is leaning casually against the railing, wearing a perfect mask of disinterest. “Finally. Thought the sun might blow up first.”

“You thought we’ll be in there for five billion years?” Marcy says, brow cocked condescendingly, the fucking know-it-all. Sasha stops leaning and glowers, about to give her a piece of-

“Distraction! Derailment! De-escalation!” Sasha flinches, Marcy blinks, then they both turn to Anne, who’s grinning like a delightful dork. “Hey, that actually worked. Cool.”

Anne claps her hands. “Anyways! Marcy, s’been a hoot and a half catching up with ya, but I gotta skedaddle now. Kinda promised Sash we’ll go shopping. Princess here thinks she’s better than instant ramen.” Anne smirks at her, and it’s all Sasha can do to roll her eyes, fondly. “But the three of us should totally hang sometime! I think we’ll make a fun threesome.”

Sasha and Marcy turns from Anne to each other for a split second, before Marcy stares daggers at her shoes and Sasha has to bury her face behind the collars of her coat, cheeks suddenly very warm. Goddamn, Anne. Can’t just bring out the big T all casual like that.

“Uh, Anne? One more thing,” Marcy mumbles, barely audible. “Remember that Chomp Kitty shirt I lent you?”

Anne snaps her fingers. “Ah, yeah, that one! I just used it last night. I’ll return it right after I wash it.”

“No, no, it’s fine. You can just give it back as is,” Marcy says, not quite meeting Anne’s eyes, making a weird, nervous, sort-of breathy laugh. “Really. Don’t bother washing it. Please.”

Sasha narrows her eyes. One more thing she’ll have to follow up on, later. There’s a more pressing issue.

“So you’re the owner of that hideous shirt?”

Marcy gasps like someone just murdered her parents. “Anne, you’re gonna let her disrespect Chomp Kitty like that?! In this house?!”

“And we are running away!” Anne grabs Sasha by the shoulders and starts hauling ass to the stairs, leaving a scandalized Marcy gaping by herself. “Catch ya later, Marce!”

And she doesn’t stop hauling when they reach the first floor or when they left the building. She doesn’t stop hauling until they cleared the block, diving into an alley between a corner store and a shady-looking thrift shop. She whirls around, peeking out from the alley to where they were. Sasha takes the time to fix her mussed-up coat, and to think.

Marcy. Hell of an encounter. Caught her a bit off guard, she’s not afraid to admit. Pretty close to Anne, for now. Neck’s intact, also for now. Weirdly durable. Huge fucking nerd. Shitty fashion sense. Probably a homophobe too. Those usually go hand in hand. Will probably be easy to deal with, once her injuries stop slowing her down.

Anne breathes a sigh, collapsing against the wall. “Hoookay. Pretty sure Miss Croaker didn’t see us.”

“You keep interesting company,” Sasha says, poker face firmly on.

Anne beams, straightening herself. “Doesn’t get better than Mar-Mar. Figures the two of you’ll run into each other eventually, but boy. There’s fast, and then there’s the past ten minutes.”

Then the smile drops, the light and energy leaving her as she rubs her eyes. “Look, Sash, dude, we gotta establish a few things,” she says, face and tone suddenly very serious. “First rule of being a hero: don’t kill anyone.”

Sasha burst out laughing. She only stops when she realizes Anne is staring at her like she just skinned a cat alive in front of her. “Oh. You’re not kidding.” The surprise is immediately replaced by disbelief. “Anne, that’s so stupid!”

“Well. Now that you’re on our side, them’s the breaks.”

It takes a lot from Sasha to not groan or roll her eyes. “So you’re saying you wouldn’t have killed me when I was with the Legion? Not that you could, but-”

“No! No killing! That’s final.” Anne crosses her arms, and it’s the most severe Sasha’s seen her look. Not even when they were staring down each other as enemies did Anne exude this aura. She exhales, long and slow, and the darkness is gone when she starts again.

“And another thing. Don’t involve people that don’t need to get involved.” Anne looks away. A flicker of something passes her face, but it’s gone before Sasha can discern it. “Marcy doesn’t know that I’m a hero. Let’s keep it that way, please.”

“Why not tell her?” Sasha tries to probe.

“Because then she’ll worry about me all the time. I don’t need that on my conscience,” Anne replies coolly. Maybe Sasha’s too quick to judge Anne as a bad liar earlier, because she genuinely can’t tell if there’s more to the statement than meets the eye.

For now, Sasha twists her lips, and relents. “Fine. I’ll… try to follow those rules.”

“There ya go! One step closer to being a real hero.” Anne pats her on the shoulder, all smiles and sunshine again.

When Anne pulls away, Sasha mumbles low into the collar of her coat, “One step closer to being a corpse.”

“Now, come on. I got part-time work after lunch.” Anne steps out of the alley, and shoots a mock-haughty look over her shoulder. “Let’s get the kind of food more befitting of your class, cousin.”

And she skips ahead with a cheeky smirk. Sasha rolls her eyes so hard it’s practically going around the world, and kicks over a trash can while no one’s looking.

That’s just fucking grand.

Cousin-zoned.

The keysmash is intentional.

Sorry this took a while. Kinda, sorta redid the whole chapter while I was already halfway through. The first draft for Sasha and Marcy’s first meeting is far, far tamer than what I ended up going with, and trust me, this one is so much fucking funnier.

And it is genuinely so much fucking fun writing this. Sasha has made absolutely zero progress on her redemption. She’s still a genuine, despicable, world-conquering, mass-murdering asshole, who’s side-switching is entirely circumstantial. I don’t get why more people do this. This is a fucking blast!

Anyway, (late) happy 50th anniversary to Kamen Rider, and next up, a former evil general goes shopping!

#amphibia #sashanne #marcanne #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #The Villainess & the Heroine

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