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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months

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DCxDP Fic Idea: The Contact, the Butler and the Sly Time Lord

Martha accidentally engaged Bruce to a higher being when he was two.

It sounds terrible, but she hadn't thought that the man wearing the Time ghost costume at her husband's Halloween Gala wasn't wearing a costume and was actually the physical embodiment of Time.

She just thought he took Halloween very seriously.

Mr. Clockwork was charming and didn't care that she had married from the lower level of first class. Her parents were rich, of course, but they weren't old money, and they certainly didn't have a lot of power to speak of.

Because of that, the elites of Gotham thought she wasn't good enough to be in a family such as the Waynes. It was so lovely not to be dragged into conversations that were thinly concealed insults.

Everyone else at the Gala thought Martha had no right to be there with them. Why was she just a few zeros off from being middle class, and wasn't it just so sad that Thomas would stain his family with her?

Secertly, Martha prayed Bruce would do something wild, like marry a girl from Crime Alley or even adopt kids in lower classes to make them all choke on their pearls.

Her son would be one of the most powerful men in a few years, and she couldn't wait to see what kind of hell he would unleash upon them. She would never push, of course, but it would be a nice fantasy to have every time she had to face passive-aggressive comments from ladies told by their fathers they would be a far better Mrs. Wyane.

" Why, hello there. Aren't you the cutest little thing?" Mr. Clockwork coos, smiling down at Bruce. He clung to his mother's skirt, his matching cowboy costume a miniature version of what she was wearing.

The boy had wandered over in the middle of their conversation once he was bored of coloring at his table. Martha couldn't blame her poor baby. There really wasn't much to do for those his age here.

Thomas had stated that children were usually not brought along due to being loud and distracting.

Martha wouldn't hear any of it, insisting her son would be going with them at the party or there would be no party. The majority of the elites believed children should be seen, not heard, and that boiled her blood something fierce.

Thomas had thankfully known when to pick his battles, so he allowed his wife to drag him to a costume store for a family costume to wear. He currently chatting with a group of investors in all his cowboy glory somewhere on the other side of the gala.

"Say thank you, Bruce," She tells her boy, but he only hides his face more, causing the two adults to chuckle. "Do you have kids, Mr.Clockwork?"

"Yes. Two daughters and a son" The man chuckles "All three are a handleful but I love them dearly."

"Oh, how wonderful. Bruce is my only son, but I want to give him siblings," she tells him warmly. She can picture Bruce chasing after his younger siblings dressed up as the Grey Ghost he loves.

She knows Thomas was worried about their chances of having a second child. He was informed not too long ago that he may suffer from secondary infertility. She didn't mind. If they couldn't have a child of their own by blood they could easily adopt.

Martha worked long and hard to provide good orphanages to the city. Maybe one day, a child from there could be her own. She'll have to speak to her orphanage managers- those in charge of the kids- to see if they could help her find one.

They have successfully been getting kids into good homes (At least she thought the number of children constantly changed, and the kids were never seen again, meaning the families that adopted them loved them enough to never return!)

Mr. Clockwork hums "how about giving him a spouse instead? My girls or boy could be a good partner"

Laughing, she assumes he meant her work on bettering the lives of the gay community- in honor of her brother who passed during the AIDs epidemic. "I'm sure Bruce would be happy to hear Mommy found him a husband."

"Is that a yes?" Clockwork eyes' flashed with an emotion that was gone too quick for her to identify.

"Yes, of course. If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all."

Mr. Clockworks red eyes - contacts? A medical condition?- gleam, and his voice takes on a strange rhythm. "Then so shall it be, my son Danny Fenton shall be married to Bruce Wayne per their Blood Mother and Core Father deal."

Huh. Maybe Mr. Clockwork is a nutcase. Suddenly, she thinks back to her father, who would often tell her that she lived in a delusion because he did not want her to see the horror that Gotham truly is.

Even when you think you're doing good, Gotham has a way of making your work into nightmares.

Was Mr. Clockwork one of those people he warned her about?

Thankfully, he leaves not long after that. He claims he must return to work before his co-workers notice him gone. She doesn't see him for the rest of the night and half wonders if she had been speaking to one of the wait staff they hired as extra help.

Not that she minded, but it made her think his name might not even be Clockwork.

She tells Thomas the story hours after Bruce is put to bed with a candy bucket and the last guests have all slipped home. Thomas is exhausted, having been playing host longer than her because Martha had left around eight to take Bruce trick and treating. Then she got home and put him down for his bedtime.

She got back to the party around eleven but it was a much-needed break from all the hostility that Thomas had been forced to face alone.

"WHAT!?" Thomas booms when she finishes the story. They had just crawled into bed, and Thomas had been rolling to his side for sleep before her words flung him back. "Clockwork!? You're sure you spoke to Clockwork!?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"What did he look like?"

"Um well he was in costume, but red eyes, blue skin, and he was wearing purple robes." She watches as the blood drains from her husband's face. "What is it darling? Who was he?"

"Oh, this isn't good....Alfred! Alfred!" Thomas frantically calls as if the devil had appeared in their bedroom.

Their servant and sometimes lover comes racing into the room, carrying a loaded shotgun. Ever since Thomas had met him overseas when he hired the British man as a personal bodyguard, he fell hard and fast for Alfred but he still deeply loved Martha.

He had sent Martha a letter detailing his feelings for his guard, and only after she had given him permission did he pursue the butler. Alfred had insisted on meeting Thomas' wife to prove that she was okay with him having a lover, so he had followed Wayne back home.

Then he simply never left.

Maybe because he was the best butler Wayne ever had, with his regal training and service in her royal highness' army, but she thinks that her own developed feelings for Alfred convince him to remain.

Alfred insisted that he was only a servant and thus could not be added to their marriage besides a bed partner occasionally. Still, Martha hoped one day they could convince him otherwise.

Bruce already saw him as a second father.

He looks at the pair, dressed in their nightwear in a rather enticing position (Thomas had grabbed Martha by her shoulder, to look into her eyes but that left them rather entangled on the bed) with no visible threat, and raises one brow.

Before he can say anything Thomas is all but rolling out of bed in a frantic leap. He tangles up in the blankets, falling gracelessly over the edge in failing limbs "Martha made a deal with Clockwork!"

At once, Alfred's handsome face drains of blood. "Oh dear, Martha darling, you made a grave mistake."

She can only blink at the men in confusion. "Who is Clockwork?"

"He has many names, but I knew him as Merlin," Alfred informed her evenly. He took her hand in his, the tremble in his fingers revealing his unease. " He had shown interest in Master Thomas before and was the one I protected him from. I barely fought him off and only due to outsmarting him. I would not be able to do it again a second time."

What?

"He is also known as a Fae or incubus in some circles. The kind that steals you away for fun." Thomas babbled from where he was pacing next to the bed, eyes franticly glancing about as if the bogggie man was about to leap out at him from the shadows.

For a moment, Martha wondered why her husband, a man of science and medicine who had never been superstitious, believed this Clockwork was some...some creature of myths.

"Martha, love, what did he ask of you?" Alfred questioned, bringing her hand to his lips as though kissing them would confirm she was safe before him.

"He asked for Bruce to marry his son."

"Oh, gods!" Thomas fretted, speeding up, his long strides becoming far more frantic. "Please say you didn't say yes."

"I-thought it was a joke, I didn't see anything wrong with it, I- said yes."

Alfred closed his eyes, looking like a man who had just been informed his death sentence had been signed by the Queen. "Then all we can do now is pray."

Years later, as Alfred is dusting the portrait of his deceased loves. He allowed his hand to trace the cover of Martha's painted smile and Thomas' strong jaw, mind filled with stolen kisses and sweet nothings that were ripped away that fateful night.

He is still struck by their loss. Every now and then, the knowledge of their death creeps in during his most mundane activities. It's like a kick to the chest every time.

Oh, how he misses them.

Ding Dong

The front doorbell jolts him out of his memories so violently it takes the aged Butler a moment or two to get a hold of his senses. He puts down the duster, climbs down the latter, and quickly makes his way to the door.

Stopping to fix his suit coat, he throws it open with a prepared smile. He expects extra help from the catering company Master Bruce hired for Wayne's annual Halloween Gala.

He was not expecting the two men, one looking nervous around Master Bruce's age and the other sly. His age is hard to gauge, but it may be due to time not affecting him as it did mortals.

Alfred's blood freezes at the sight of those cunning red eyes and smirk. "Merlin."

"Alfred Pennyworth." The demon chuckles. "I prefer Clockwork, as you know, but it's good to see you remember me. Most humans are prone to forgetting in their limited age."

"What are you doing here?"

"Why I came to fulfill the deal between Martha Wayne nee Kane and I"

"Martha is dead. Your contact is void."

Clockwork chuckles again, the sound as deadly as poison. "The contact lives as long as all those involved in it live. You know this."

Alfred presses the panic button on his wristwatch, knowing it sends a message to everyone in the manor to evacuate immediately. He will not live through this battle, but hopefully, it will give Master Bruce time to escape. "You will not lay a hand on Master Bruce."

"Come now, Alfred. We are to be in-laws. Our sons are joining in holy matrimony. Why the hostility-"

"Excuse me what?" The other man-demon? Ghost? Higher-being? cuts in, looking at Clockwork with brows knitted into a frown. "What did you mean holy matrimony?"

"Danny, you're getting married," Clockwork says with a cheerful wave.

"The hell I am!" The man barks, flushing red with anger. Alfred can hardly believe he just yelled at the monster. "I am not marrying some random guy!"

"It is the way things must go for the good of mankind-"

"Oh, go suck on a lemon! We both know that whole "this is fate" is bull!"

"You are embarrassing me in front of our new in-laws, younn man" Clockwork actually waves a finger at the fully grown human. "This is my one chance to marry you off to a good man. We both know that you can't attract a mate on your own."

"What!? Yes, I can! I've had girlfriends and boyfriends before!"

"And yet, no spouse! No wedding! Not even a ring!"

"Moby Dick, I knew this bonding fishing trip was a lie! You can't make me get married because of some contact you made when I was three!"

"It's not permanent! Martha Wayne said If that is what they both want, I wouldn't mind their marriage at all. This means you both must want to be together after one year of marriage. See if you like it, and if you don't, I can always find you a new husband."

"This isn't returning a jacket to a store! I can't just see if I like being married Clockwork!" The man hissed running a hand through his hair. "We're going home. I'm so sorry for bothering you today Mr. Alfred."

Alfred blinks at the young man's sheepish smile, wondering if ti's a trick. "No bother at all."

"Danny, if you leave without marriage, Bruce Wayne will die in an hour due to breaking our contract," Clockwork says, crossing his arms. "Honestly, your sisters were far more mature regarding their marriages."

Danny punches him in the face with a glowing hand. The higher being falls like a sack of bricks.

"Right, I'm going to drop this one off at a nursing home, and then I'll return to marry Bruce. Only so the contact doesn't kill him, and I swear I'll only visit every once in a while until our year is up." Throwing- Merlin, holy shit- over his shoulder as if though he weighed nothing, Danny waves at Alfred and scurries away, vanishing into a green portal.

Alfred is left standing at the doorway, utterly flabbergasted. Distantly, he wonders if the hollowing wind is actually Martha laughing herself silly in the afterlife.

Carefully, he reaches up for his com, switching it on to the sound of his family's frantic bickering. They were all worried about him since he sent the alarm and were fighting about following policy or saving him.

"Master Bruce," He says faintly silencing the coms "Please come to have your suit fitted as soon as you can."

"What for?" His son asks, likely looking for a coded message, but Alfred doesn't have the mental capacity to make one.

"Your wedding, sir. It's tonight, courtesy of your mother."

The coms explode into chaos.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Alfred/Thomas/Martha #spirit halloween #In which Martha thought her lovers were making shit up about their epic battle against the Time Lord #Clockwork is Merlin because he likes messing with humans #Danny is tried of his adoptive dad trying to set him up #arranged marriage #Clockwork hords choas like a dragon and motherhens like a bear #Alfred is just tired

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rafeysdoll · 22 days

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can u pls write bsf!rafe x reader who comforts her after her bf broke up w herrr💞

ohhh i love this. he most definitely would be giggling inside his head.. thank u for requesting i hope u enjoy hun

“j-jus don’t understand why he’d just break up with me rafey.” you cry on his shoulder, tears streaming down your pitiful face. “i-i thought everything was going fine with us!” you whine, stepping back to look up at rafe through wet, wispy lashes. “i thought he liked me!”

he’d just lick his lip, looking off into the space— pretending to think real hard. “god, i.. i don’t know baby. really don’t know. he was just stupid, nothing to do with you.” he comforts, lying straight through his teeth.

of course he knew why— he had gone and visited at his house, threatening your little boyfriend that if he didn’t break up with you soon, he’d kill him.

“i-i dunno what to do, rafey.” you continue, going back to burying your flushed face in his chest, rafe accepting you with open arms, rubbing his hands only on the sides of your shoulders. you whine, needing more comfort than that. “gimme a hug please, need it.” you request, voice cracking.

“course doll, anything for you.” he whispers, now wrapping his arms around you completely, closing his eyes and imagining this was a different situation. one where you were already his.

“y’know.. i’d never hurt you like that baby.. rafey’s always here for you.. isn’t he? i never ever leave you hanging, always taking care of you, right?” he says, planting the little seeds in your mind.

you sniffle, nodding— a soft smile tugging on your lips.

you loved rafe dearly, and you loved when he took care of you. loved how you could always count on him. “mhm, that’s why you’re my best friend.” you remind him, as if it isn’t constantly taunting him every second of his day.

he clenches his fist, irritation running through his body. he almost wants to lash out, frustrated at how long the process of you becoming his is taking, even with that fuckass gone. he secretly hoped somehow that straight after your breakup, you’d realize rafe was the one for you. but he takes a deep breath, nostrils flared before nodding.

ever the proactive man, he quickly thought of a way to make the best of his situation. “b-best friend, uh.. yeah.” he chuckles.

“you’re uh.. you’re right, doll. i am your best friend, and as my best friend duties..” he pauses, taking a step back to examine your face. “gotta make you feel better, don’t i?”

“and i know just the perfect way to help you through this baby, perfect way to get him off that little brain of yours.” he persuades, hand following up your neck then up your face.. testing his boundaries as he starts stroking your face.

“r-really?” you question, glossy eyes looking at him full of hope. “yea, but you gotta tell me you trust me first, can’t do anything if you don’t trust me.”

your brows furrow, light whine passing your lips. “of course i trust you!” you reply, almost offended. “good.. good. jus’ making sure. here, just take my hand, okay?”

and when he leads you upstairs, taking you to his bed, slowly pulling off your clothes— he makes sure to plant even more seeds into your brain.

reassuring you that he was just trying to help, that he would never do something that wasn’t in your best interest, that it would all be okay if you just let him take care of everything.

you give into all his sweet words, because you truly believe that he was the only one that had your back.

he drills into your head that he knows how you needed to be treated and that he’d gladly give it you, just needing your word.

he breaks that virgin cunt of yours with the most addictive mixture of roughness and care you could ever dream of. long and deep strokes having you creaming on his shaft in minutes, suckling on his fingers as he coos that he’s got you.

and when you wake up in the morning, rafe’s arms wrapped around you.. you couldn’t be more happier— he’d never hurt you like your ex boyfriend.

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zhongrin · 3 months

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skilled fingers, devious heart

✼ characters ┈ al haitham

✼ tags ┈ minors dni, fem-bodied reader (reader has a pussy), bratty!reader, manhandling, restraints, orgasm denial/control, edging, brat taming, light degradation, oral, light spanking, overstimulation, hint of c█rr█pt█d!haitham (hence he has his mean moments), aftercare, longfic (3.6k+)

✼ a/n ┈ “let me just draft a quick birthday oneshot for al haitham!” ー meirin, a total clown, circa 2024 /silly ..... anyways, happy birthday to the silliest man in sumeru. i love him dearly and i love that his bday is literally just a day away from my mom and one of my besties. very convenient to remember lol also, happy chinese new year!!! ✨

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

when you asked your boyfriend what he wanted to do for his birthday, you didn't think he would ask for this. then again, al haitham was mostly an unpredictable man, even to you as his lover. he seemed to have a knack for constantly having you on your toes, always anticipating his next actions and reminding you how much of a complex individual he was despite his simple aspirations in life.

such as now, when he requested you to ‘spread your legs and stay still’.

contrary to him, your answer was - at least in his eyes - predictable. a raise of eyebrows, a fox-like grin tugging on your lips, and al haitham could already hear the smug tone of your voice before you could even spoke the words, “make me.”

the fact that you loved to play a dangerous game with a dangerous man always came back to bite you in the ass, but your boyfriend played his part so well, it kept you coming back for more. he knew just the right way to respond to your challenge that made you shiver with want: muscles flexing as he pinned you down onto your shared bed, your preferred choice of restraints keeping you immobile and indecently spread for his blooming green eyes to observe. his pupils lined with brick reds dilated, the scholar stared at the resulting sight like a museum curator appraising an acclaimed artwork.

despite this, you were a fervent fire ablaze in the face of downpour, “it’s not like you to brute force your way into tackling a problem. was this morning’s session not enough for mister feeble scholar?”

ah. this artwork sure has a feisty personality to it.

al haitham snorted, his arm moving to place a hand on your inner thigh, tracing circles and indescribable patterns, “why do you bother futilely talking back and acting resilient in front of me, when it’s obvious how much power i hold over you? even the brightest students know to learn from their mistakes, so have you not learned from this morning about how powerless you are?”

he would never admit it, but while such display of bullheadedness irritated him when it came from other people, somehow it was almost adorable coming from you.

“wh- i'm not powerless!”

“the facts proved against your favor, however. especially considering how i’ve just succeeded in tossing you onto our bed and holding your body down. i know i could do whatever i wanted with you… and i was right, wasn’t i?” the hand holding your thigh squeezed briefly, his breath slowly caressing your skin the more he leaned closer, “besides, it’s also been proven that you like such treatments.”

you blushed, memories that proved his claims flooding your mind. yet, you huffed and looked away in hope to alleviate the warmth that was starting to bubble on your cheeks.

“so you might be needlessly strong physically, yes, okay, whatever. would you like a gold star for that?”

unfortunately(?) for you, despite the biting words, he didn’t miss the signs of your flustered state. his voice was as leveled as ever as more silken words fell from his lips; the very same ones you wished would just kiss you already, “remember how I pinned your hands above your head? how you tried kicking and wriggling, saying how you ‘can’t’ and yet… we both knew what exactly happened after that, don’t we?”

you felt your core clench at the taunt, throat swallowing at the picture he painted. your legs tugged against the straps as if you wanted to kick him. in turn, all you got back was an amused low chortle.

“cute,” the soft remark almost flew by you, but alas, before you could snap back at him, his touch started to trail further, tracing your labia before spreading the pink folds open with his fingers. an embarrassed squeak by you was followed by a condescending hum by your partner, his eyes zeroing on the slick coating your pretty clit and inner lips that oozed the remnants of your prior lovemaking, “and so mouthwateringly indecent.”

his digits dragged against your dripping cunt, a teasing smirk dancing on his face when a soft noise left your throat in response.

"such a mess," he remarked, infuriatingly nonchalant as if he hadn’t loved you so intensely just a few hours ago, “you were truly, completely cockdrunk last night, weren't you?"

“s-shut up…”

“why should i? you’ve mentioned how much you liked my voice. i doubt your perspectives had changed since then.”

“you don’t know that. maybe i don’t like it anymore,” you countered pettily.

“yet your body seems to arrive at a different conclusion,” the languid lull in his voice couldn’t mask the delight he experienced as he saw your sopping wetness drip with want. your lover smirked, dragging his finger up and down slowly, gathering your slick to circle around your swollen pearl, feathery touches leaving you wanting for more. the way you were shaking, your body twitching from sensitivity in return of his ministrations, was almost as hot as actual sex itself.

“ah… you meanie-” you inhaled sharply as this wicked, wicked man purposefully started rubbing your clit in the way he knew would make you putty in his hands. firm and calculated flicks followed by a finger slipping into your creamy cunt made you keen wantonly, thighs momentarily spreading wider before you found your decorum, rear falling back onto the soft sheets, teeth biting down on your bottom lip.

al haitham watched in fascination as you tried to regain your attitude. he wondered how long that would last this time. you were a puzzle that enthralled him, a chorus he wanted to listen forever. he might not have been studying under kshahrewar back in his younger days, but there was a part of him that wanted to pick you apart and put you back together again.

this was why he was so addicted to you.

he didn’t particularly enjoy doing extra work, but given the reward waiting for him at the end of the road, he determinedly doubled his action; one finger tapping and circling, the other knuckle-deep inside your tight heat, intense and unforgiving.

“fffuck- h-haitham-” the stutter of your needy voice sharpened his smirk, expression hardening into focus as he observed the twitch of your hips and the rivulets of juices coating his appendages. he briefly admired the way your skin glowed in perspiration, the way your fleshy parts rippled as you squirmed under him. no words could properly capture the desire brewing and consuming his whole being at having the privilege to witness such a sight.

he saw your breathing quicken, felt the clenching and unclenching of your walls, the way you started to move your hips as far as the restraints allowed, and your abdomen dipping as you inched nearer and nearer to bliss.

a mean glint of red, and his fingers withdrew quickly.

“wha- ah?”

you blinked and panted, eyes snapping wide as the coil loosened, and your sight settled on al haitham’s smug tilt of his head.

“i told you to stay still.”

“you… you prick! meanie! bastard!”

“that’s not the attitude you should be adapting given the current position of power,” he chided, before his hand deviously dropped back to its previous position, resuming in a much teasingly slower pace; a silent implication of what he could have done but chose not to, ”if you beg nicely, maybe i’ll allow you to cum. but be warned, you’ll be doing it until i am satisfied.”

“-son of a- oh! a-ah-” your words failed you as he added one extra finger into your warmth, prodding just near your favorite spot within the gummy walls, yet never directly.

you knew he could go deeper. he was dangling that carrot over you, and you were tempted to fall for his little game.

“pardon? what was that?” he asked, and if you didn’t see the way the corner of his lips curl up through your bleary eyes, you might have believed that he truly missed your barrages of insults born out of frustration, “would you like to say it louder?”

“archons, you- j-jerk!”

“oh?”

the sudden shift of his touch, turning firmer and faster, made you gasp and whimper, body twitching involuntarily as you felt the sensation build up yet again. your toes curl and your calves tensed, tugging against the harness as your biting words turned into needy moans. a shudder rocked your body, the back of your head digging onto the soft mattress as you felt him mouth on your collarbone, nibbling, tormenting in the most delectable way.

“use your words, darling. you were so smart with them just seconds ago.”

“haa- ngh! j-just let me cum, you unfair little-”

al haitham sighed like a disappointed tutor who had just discovered that his best student had earned an F in their recent exam. the sudden loss of his touch and the way you were forced to come down from that white-hot lines of satisfaction yet again made you cry out, the restraints straining noisily as you tried to buck onto something, anything.

a smirk returned onto his face as he witnessed your verbal and physical protest. that’s right, not yet. this was why he adored your stubbornness. he was going to tease and torment you until you were a total wreck, and then he would give you your reprieve in multitudes.

“how obstinate of you to continue denying your desires even when all outcomes dictate your loss,” the man remarked, palming your soft thighs and enjoying the way they dipped under the pressure of his hands. he was tempted to leave a few reds in the shape of his handprints, but he refrained… for now. that can come later.

“h-haitham….,” you mustered the wettest puppy eyes you could manifest - which wasn’t that hard considering the tears of pleasure already pooling in your eye lines - and blinking though your lashes at him, an adorable pout on your lips.

“what? is something missing to really help you release all of that tension?" he faked an indifferent tone fully meant to provoke.

you groaned, shivering as you felt the cold air brushing your flushed skin and swollen bundle of nerves begging for attention, “al haitham...!” you whined while quivering, eyes blown in desire, your pride refusing to budge any more than this.

the man smirked as your protests weakened with every seconds that ticked, the look of desire and lust in your eyes clearly increasing in intensity the more he reveled in your plight.

"hm?" he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, "still being stubborn?" he moved his middle finger towards the folds of your pussy, dragging it along your indecently leaking entrance and up into your aching clit, swirling slowly and making you shiver in response. even the smallest movements resulted in a sound that showcased how drenched you were, and it was all according to his plans, "are you sure you want to keep playing this game? you know who’s the more patient one in this relationship… you’re all tied up and i’m free to do this all day if i wanted to. i wouldn’t mind — it would be a good way to spend my day off.”

eyes teary, teeth gnawing on your lip, you bucked your hips as his finger touched the swollen nerves directly this time, "s-shut up...! you’re so- ugh! if you’re gonna be so cruel then don’t touch me at all!"

your beloved chuckled, dragging his digits up and down in the same teasing motion, playing with your sensitivity with a touch that sent you teetering to heaven but bordering to hell with how tortuously slow it was. he was a master as you were a slave to pleasure; your moans ramping up into wounded desperation just as he guided you back into the tightrope of lust, spiraling into the ecstasy you so desperately sought. you sobbed and trembled; heart beating loudly in your ears. you were so helplessly pent-up, so deliciously close-

“beg.”

the devil’s voice entered your ears and you grit your teeth. he wouldn’t, right? not for the third time. no, he wasn’t that despicable, he wouldn’t. he’ll give it to you, he’s-

“beg.”

the pressure lightened, and you inhaled sharply.

“please!” the word fell from your lips before you could stop them, “i need- i want…!”

your boyfriend stopped, a trail of your slick followed his appendages’ ascent as he withdrew to appreciate the stream of glistening slick coating your tender pussy and how your hips canted, trying to guilelessly chase his touch, throat singing a needy whine that sounded so beautiful he was almost tempted to keep denying your release for the next hour.

“haitham, please, please!” you sounded so high-pitched and so utterly adorable, he couldn’t help but place a peck on your thigh. tears of relief joined your tears of pleasure as you saw his pleased smile and the way he complied with your begging, though it still wasn’t enough.

“yes? don’t just call my name, darling. elaborate. go on, you can do it,” he carried on with the slow circles around your throbbing clit, fingers barely pumping into your drooling cunt.

“please! i can’t take it anymore…!" you hiccuped, keening, abdomen twitching, so sensitive that the slightest touch was making you toe on the brink of insanity.

al haitham smirked wickedly, watching as your mind and body were losing that self-control, your hips rocking back and forth while your face and eyes colored with pleasure. breathing in disarray, body a quivering mess, he almost wished he had a kamera to immortalize this perverse scene.

“are you asking me to help you release?”

“b-begging! i’m begging you- please let me cum!” you were definitely on the edge, shuddering, legs trying to flail against the tight bondage. a pleased groan rumbled in his throat, and his hand finally reverted into the pace and motions that made you see stars.

“louder,” a command.

“please help me cum!!!”

your muscles tensed as you tasted the precipice of bliss, your lips babbling, chanting his name and a series of undignified pleadings that implored him to not stop this time. you received an approving hum for your clear show of subservience and a soft peck on your cheek that made you moan in appreciation.

“i hope you didn’t forget what i said earlier,” he whispered against your ear, sultry and littered with hidden mischievous intent that you completely missed, too focused on reaching that high with each flick of his wrist and with each pressing prod of his finger—

the expertly placed thrust onto your g-spot was the cause of your crumble into depravity; walls sucking him in as your back arched in your climax. lips open in a silent scream, you missed the adoring look of your lover as he watched you spiral into bliss.

ah, your blissful ignorance is always so, so delicious to see.

before you could even start to wind down from your intense release, the sinful appendages picked up their salacious endeavors once more, three of them stirring your sopping wet mess and massaging your sweet spot relentlessly. al haitham’s mouth latched on your swollen bundle, his tongue flicking and sucking in turn, savoring your sweet taste and basking in your erotic cries that followed.

“can’t! can’t- too much! h-ah-ngh-!”

he ignored your feeble protests in favor of focusing on the task at hand; tongue lapping on the copious juices dribbling out of you as he pumped the slender fingers right onto your sensitive pussy’s weak spot. the sounds of your wetness echoed indecently in the room, a lewd orchestration of sensuality accompanied by your reprehensible babbling.

the second orgasm crashed against your senses and you sobbed, whining and jolting as he helped you ride it to your most satisfaction. eyes rolling, you barely registered the way he lapped at your juices like a man starved, before pulling back to observe the effect of his unholy actions. and he must have seen something, for when your vision cleared from euphoria, he had taken to caress you once again.

“one more. you can give me one more,” the rasp in his voice sent a jolt of desire in your loins, yet at the same time, the overstimulation had started to settle in. this time, the pleasure made your whole body tremor and for once you had no idea if the straps were a blessing or a curse; your limbs flailed and strained, instinctively writhing at the assault of stimulation.

“f-fuck! oh! a-archons- my love, please!!”

“i told you, didn’t i?” he purred, salacious and mocking, a flicker of red and a sneer, “’if you beg nicely, maybe i’ll allow you to cum. but be warned, you’ll be doing it until i am satisfied.’ well, my love, i am not yet satisfied.”

all senses of modesty had been thrown out of the window at this point. a series of disgraceful noises left your throat, tears running down your temples as you stayed rooted to your spot on the bed, oxytocin flooding your brain and numbing your senses. stringing words proved to be difficult when you were oversensitive and your lover seemed determined to see you mindless and utterly ruined by his touches.

if before, you were a helpless traveler stranded on a desert chasing on the mirage of an oasis, this time you felt like you were drowning in an ocean full of pleasure. all senses submerged in the ruthless waves of unbridled desires that made you both paralyzed and set you aflame.

“look at you,” al haitham's words came out harsh despite having a pleased hum to it as he battered your fleshy nub harder, insistent and undeterred by your unconvincing protests. he smirked, pleased with your cries and senseless noises leaving your lips, free from your brain’s usual filtering. your mind and body were already beyond your control as he slowly edged you closer and closer to that sweet release yet again. “so needy for me. gushing endlessly like you’re in heat.”

he watched you writhe and quake, a sliver of drool escaping the side of your opened mouth, his cock straining against the confines of his pants, but oh, he was enjoying every second of it. his free hand palmed your thigh before delivering a light slap, his eyes dilating when it made your breath hitch and your body jerk. each impact brought you to the absolute edge of delirium, and every time the pads of his fingers grind and stretched your gummy walls, the more debauched pleas left your emptied mind.

“c-cumming! cumming! i’m close, love, please! i’m- ah—”

“good,” it was almost sadistic, how he seemed to take so much satisfaction from seeing you so shamefully addicted to his mere fingers, “then come.”

a choked sob and a few insistent taps onto your oversensitive clit took your vision into a realm of whites. your finish was immaculately designed to enrapture you in a burst of nothingness, where nothing else mattered but you and your boyfriend's eloquent expertise. ears ringing, your consciousness temporarily froze in the state of heavenly rapture.

when you came down from the vivid paradise, you found your limbs freed from the restraints, your lover dutifully checking the reddened skin to make sure you hadn’t caused any injuries to yourself. seeing your glazed eyes settling onto his form, he leaned over and stroked your cheek, speaking in a soft voice with a caring tone far too detached from the demeaning and authoritative tone just moments ago.

“you did so well.”

though your senses were totally fried from the overstimulation and you still couldn’t exactly feel your limbs, a loopy grin spread on your lips. soft pair of green eyes watched you in adoration as he tucked you onto his chest, a gentle kiss descending on top of your head as he cradled you within his arms.

“verdict from one to ten?”

“mmmm…. twenty.”

“hm. it appears you’re still more delirious than i judged.”

a playful swat to his side was all you could manage, and you were rewarded with the rare soft laugh of your usually stoic lover.

“you’re adorable.”

“and you’re mean.”

“you speak as if the attitude does not bring you joy.”

“shut up and cuddle me.”

“ordering me around on my birthday? you’re spoiled.”

“and whose fault is that?”

“mine,” al haitham admitted with a smile, silently grateful for your presence, your witty banter, your hardheadedness, your loving eyes, your everything — you, who were undoubtedly and indubitably….

“mine,” he repeated and pressed another kiss, this time to your lips: a silent promise for spending his next birthdays with you once again.

bonus:

“still,” you sighed into his hold as your breathing steadied, looking up at him in half curiosity and half concern, “this doesn’t seem like a birthday present for you.”

al haitham looked down at you, the mischievous glint in his eyes returning. he guided your hand, and your small daydream of him being unusually romantic to initiate hand holding before spewing some cheesy lines like in those light novels were dashed when you found a familiar hardness twitching against your palm.

“bold of you to you think that my appetizer was the main course.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #al haitham x reader #al haitham #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #minors dni

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cyxnidx · 6 months

Text

LITTLE ONES !

character: dad!simon 'ghost' riley

genre: fluff + headcanons

a/n: the idea of simon being a father raids my mind

dad!simon, who'd kiss his little ones on the foreheads every night, watching them closely before leaving to sleep with you.

"simon," you call your husbands name. "they're sleep, i promise." simons been sitting at the side of your childs cot for the past 35 minutes, watching as they sleep peacefully. "yeah, but they could-" you stopped him. "oh, shut up and come on."

dad!simon, who hugs his little girl tight when she cries from a fall.

"it hurts!" she'd whine, tears pouring from her eyes as simon lifts her from the rough concrete. a sharp pain hit his heart hearing her cry from what seemed such a little scar, that was so big for her. "i know, darling. it's okay."

dad!simon, who'd recklessly throw his little boy in the air, heart skipping a beat when he hears his squeals of joy and excitement.

dad!simon, who takes his kids with him to the base one day and introduces everyone to them.

"everyone.." he states reluctantly, noticing the amount of attention he gained simply by saying a word. he felt his little ones hands grip onto his pant legs, shaking. "..meet my little one."

dad!simon, who laughs at the idea of his little girl turning into a sassy-rebellious teenager one day.

dad!simon, who smiles proudly at his teenage girls bossiness.

you sigh, sitting on the couch as you and simon hear your little girl in the kitchen, speaking with her boyfriend. it started with a small disagreement, but then he says something she doesn't enjoy. when he hears his little girl correct him in a bossy tone, voice getting slightly louder and British accent getting even more threatening, he grins when all he hears on the other end is a "yes ma'am." and silence.

dad!simon, who'd answer his girls every beck and call.

"dad!" she'd call from her room, rough British accent booming through the house. just like her fathers. her eyes resemble a puppy's when she sees his face poke around the corner. "can you get me a drink? please."

dad!simon, who has to restrain himself from taking his child from school.

dad!simon, who almost sheds a tear when he hears his little girl talk to him with a British accent similar to his.

"daddy! why would you do that." she whines, eyeing her father. simon looks down in surprise - not because of the fact that he knocked her blocks down, nor the fact that she'd curse him out had she known any curse words, but the fact that she's eyeing him with his eyes, with his harsh, British accent, she learned from him.

dad!simon, who almost looses it hearing his little boy call for him after school.

"daddy!" the boy called, running off the bus in the rain and into his fathers arms, under the umbrella. "i missed you!" simon never felt such a fuzzy feeling in his life.

dad!simon, who gets his kids name followed by whatever they want tatted on his neck.

dad!simon, who's always anxiously looking behind him in public while shopping in fear of someone taking his kid.

"you still there?" he asks gruffly, looking back anxiously when he doesn't get a response, only to see the small child too focused on his phone to respond. chuckling, simon continues walking.

dad!simon, who constantly reminds his child he loves them dearly.

"i love you." simon mumbles quickly, reminding his little boy for the hundredth time, holding his small body close as he watches his dads phone. "i love you too, daddy." the small boy responds, clearly fed up with his fathers admiration.

dad!simon, who doesn't mind threatening his little girls first boyfriend.

dad!simon, who got his babies hands tatted on his chest.

dad!simon, who still cries at the mere thought of his kid even existing.

you roll your eyes gently as your husband hides his face in your chest, tears staining your shirt. "simon.." "they're so sweet.." he'd mumble, voice slightly hoarse. you sigh, patting his back. "and i thought i was the one in post-partum depression."

simon looked down, viewing his little girl playing with toy soldiers she saw in the store earlier that day. she begged him to buy them for her, and here she was, making small explosion and shooting sounds with her mouth, throwing them around. and before he knew it - tears were flowing down his face.

simon sat quietly, watching his son fiddle with a puzzle toy he'd proclaimed to be his favorite earlier that week. concentration painted the small boys face. and yet, here simon was. crying.

dad!simon, who reminds his boy/girl that not everyone is the same after their first breakup.

dad!simon, who often reflects on his past and what he missed out of his family, wanting to give his kids so much more.

"m' gonna give you everything i've ever wanted.." simon says under his breath, holding his newborn son.

dad!simon, who adorns every one of his kids features and ensures he shows them every day.

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lvlyghost · 7 months

Note

Hello do you take requests cause I had this idea in my mind but I suck in writing

how bout a ghost x reader where he had a bad day and takes it out on his beloved reader who he's been in a really long relationship with, by starting an argument and maybe saying some really mean and bad things that break the reader. Like the reader is only a shell of herself and completely ruined by ghosts words and just crying or sitting completely still staring off the wall or just staring at nothing just being numb.

What would be interesting is Simons reaction when he realizes the damage that he's done, maybe he would cry/break down idk when he sees the usually happy reader being so dull and almost lifeless yk

But Pleasee don't do this to our hearts and write some comfort and a happy ending please I couldn't handle too much angst❤️😭

The Weight of the World

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: You promised to always lean on each other but sometimes love isn't enough.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

TW: heavy angst, literally got some mid anxiety writing this🥴 swearing, self-doubt, hurt-comfort and slight fluff towards the end. lmk if i missed any.

A/N: finished this in one sitting lol, also not proofread and poorly edited, i've been having a shitty week so expect more angst lol. meet me in therapy. Enjoy anon!🤍🌟🫶🏻💕

Masterlist✨

You hesitate right outside Simon's studio, the place where he secludes himself from everything and everyone. Ever since he came from his last mission he seemed to be on the edge constantly. The usual softness that he reserved specifically for you was... absent.

Still you wouldn't let that stop you from approaching; having dating him for a few years now let you know so much of that. You knew when he was hurting. When he was sad, angry, jealous or even happy. Little to no people could say that.

Somehow this was different. He wasn't even letting you in, constantly keeping you at arms length and that hurt. How were you supposed to get to him this time? Get him to talk to you?

To look at you again with that same glint in his eyes, the spark that you ignited in him and that won't fade away even years after.

The sound of a chair creaking startles you, the same time the timer in the kitchen goes off. You walk back, turning the oven off, and sticking out the apple pie you so happily baked for both with hopes that you'll get him loosen a bit that dark cloud that's been looming over Simon these past few days.

The door of his studio is yanked open the heavy stomp of his boots resonating across the small apartment you two share, then his bulky frame appears just to grab the keys to his black motorcycle.

"Simon!" You call him, burning your hand in the process. He stills halfway through the living room, waiting for you to say something else. Wetting a cloth hurriedly and wrapping it around the burnt skin.

"I made something for us... maybe," standing behind him you leave a reasonable space between the two. You swallow down hard. "Thought we could have it together and just, you know spend...-"

"I don't have time for that now." His voice is cold and monotone. "Don't wait for me."

"But Si-" he turns on his heels, eyes hard and unyielding. He approaches slowly, making you gulp. "What's gotten into you, Simon?" You fight back the tears, this was the man you loved so dearly, the man you knew loved you back; there was a reason for the golden engagement ring on your left hand. "I..-"

"Fucking hell would you stop that? Please just..." he notices the wetness in your eyes. "I can't do this. Not anymore."

"Whatever it is I promise we can work it out together!" your lips quivered. "Just talk to me!"

"I don't need to talk about anything girl!" He seethes, one finger pointing at you. "Think some cheap counseling with you will make things right? Bloody hell no. Neither some homemade bread, this isn't fucking working and it won't until you learn how the bloody world works."

It breaks your heart into a tiny million pieces, breathing becomes a challenge and the injury in your hand can no longer be felt. Simon's words were worse than any physical pain. Where was the man you loved? The man who used to lift you up and kiss you on the forehead? The man whose hands couldn't stop roaming your body late at night? The man who'd helped you reach out for things he probably put away in the highest shelf so you'd ask for help. That same man that had proposed to you no long ago, right before he was deployed to a special op God knows where. The fabric of his mask moves when he keeps talking but you don't listen. You can't. Just like you can't stop the tears dribbling down your cheeks and the tremble of your hands. Simon's jaw clenched, brows furrowed as he takes a step back and leaves.

You walk sluggishly to where the dessert awaits. It's when your knees buckle that you finally let out a loud cry.

Simon knows he isn't a good man. He's done quite questionable things that he could never say out loud. He knows he's fucked in so many ways. But he also knows that there's one thing that kept him from spiraling further down into an abyss of death and self-loathing.

You.

The woman he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The girl that didn't care about his past, the bad moments and his complicated persona. You who would selflessly love him without asking for something in return. What had you seen in him in first place? Even now after three years he can't wrap his head around the fact that he has someone who waits for him.

Simon knows how much he loves you, but what he doesn't know is how—or in what earth—he deserves every part of you.

You've been avoiding him ever since that horrible night. Words he can't take back. Looks that haunt him every time he closed his eyes. He hears you cry when you go to sleep or when you're taking a shower. Muffled sobs and wails that will come for him until the day he dies.

You avoid him like a plague, when he walks in. After all he's the one to blame. He wanted to ask you to tear him apart maybe that'd feel less painful.

The last remaining of sanity that was left in him came crashing down when he began to notice how you stared off in a haze, numbly looking at the window. He was losing you. Destroyed the one good thing he had. So, a few days later, despite his own demons. Despite the things that broke him all irreparably during the last mission in Moscow, he comes to find you. Sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes set on your left hand.

The engagement ring was gone, forgotten someplace unknown. Simon felt the panic wrenching his guts.

It's all on him.

He whispers your name, calls you softly. Slowly sitting in front of you, the coffee table creaks under his weight. Words get caught in his throat.

"May I take your hand?" He pleads, not getting an answer. Simon sighs, lowering his head as silent reigns yet again. "I don't deserve you." He murmurs, eyes bored into the floor. "I... I ruin everything I touch. Just never thought I'd ruin my girl."

Your eyes flutter shut, wet tears clinging to your eyelashes. Simon watches as you stand and leave without a word, he follows close behind to your shared room.

"Love..."

"Don't call me that!" the hurt in your voice... the resentment in your eyes, he's earned it.

Simon reaches out for your arm, grabbing you firmly but gently, mindful not to harm you.

"Right I deserve that." If there's one thing Simon regrets it's being the reason that your eyes no longer shine. "What I said... what happened I...-"

Shaking your head and biting down your lip.

"You never gave me the chance, I thought we said we'd always find a way."

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry baby." in an instant he's pulling you close, although you want to push him away, scream at him, slap him for the calvary he made you go through. "I'm not good with words, and I'm no good person." You feel his body shaking with anxiety as your eyes widen in shock. "I tried... I can't forgive myself for my mistakes."

"Simon..." he hushed you, cradling your head with his big hand. "I can't sleep knowing I can't protect you from what's out there, couldn't bloody protect that kid in Moscow, or my family."

You guide him to the bed, sitting down side by side and holding onto each other.

"Said I would always be with you Simon, why the hell did you push me away?! Have I not given my everything to you? We promised to always make it work!" He grabs your face staring intently into your eyes. "What happened there?"

He blinks, deciding how much to say. There was no need for you to know the entirety of it. He wanted to shield you from the horrors of this world, and he would as long as he lived.

"A young lad whose life's was cut short because I wasn't there on time. How can I come back to you, be happy when someone else just lost their kid..."

"That wasn't on you! Simon Riley you stop that now." He inhales, cinnamon and vanilla flooding his senses. It's you all of you. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. We do that together, yeah?" Your chest hurts from how hard it's beating. "You've done far so much. You won't lose me."

A rumble in the sky and cars passing by outside your home is all you hear. Brown eyes like honey stare back into your soul.

"You took it off..."

"I burnt my hand, it wasn't healing properly. And you know what?" He quirks a brow. "It wasn't homemade bread. It was an apple pie, you silly."

"You'll never forgive me for that one won't you?" He doesn't chuckle but the air feels lighter.

"No. Probably won't." Simon takes your burnt hand bringing it to his lips, they're soft against the marred skin.

"But we're still getting married, yeah?" He asks.

You smile fondly, humming when he kisses your forehead, tears have now dried.

"Yeah. We're still getting married."

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squirmhoney · 1 month

Note

Wb Aegon grooming/manipulating little sister? Modern or canon, whichever sparks your interest

Warnings: All characters are 18+. Manipulation. Perv! Aegon. Dark. Smut. Incest. 18+

Aegon had never understood why he desired you so dearly but never Helaena.

It definitely wasn’t due to him being forced into marital life with her, nor was it due to her looks, he knew Helaena was quite divine, others had constantly told him so.

No, it was something to do with you.

His sweet little sister who invaded his mind at the wickedest of times. When he was lying with his whores in flea bottom or when he found himself drunk enough to take his sister-wife to bed.

His mother and grandsire had forbidden him from you, promising you to some lord that would align with his cause if he took your hand in marriage. But even the thought of you being away from him longer than a day had his chest tightening. There was no way he could possibly be separated from you.

He was King now, he didn’t need to be separated from you.

Or that’s at least what he told himself as he waited patiently in your room, lounging by the fire for your return.

You didn’t notice him when you first stepped through the door, busying yourself with ridding yourself of your riding attire.

It was one of your ladies that noticed him, jumping at the sight of him before bowing respectfully.

“Your grace.”

All your ladies bowed before him then turned their heads to you for guidance.

“Out,” Aegon commanded, motioning with his fingers to the door.

“You may leave us,” you told them with a warm smile, nodding your head as they made their exit.

It wasn’t as wide as the smile you gave Aegon as you stood before him.

“Brother,” you said, hand cupping the side of his face.

“Angel,” He sighed, relaxing into your touch. “I need to ask you a question.”

“Anything,” you told him, kneeling down in front of him.

He clenched his jaw at the sight of you before him, on your knees as you gazed up at him. Your dress was already undone at the front, ready to be slipped off of your figure, and Aegon wondered what beautiful sight was underneath.

“If your King needed something, would you help him?” He asked.

“I’d do anything for you brother-”

“Would you do anything for your King?” He tilted his head, eyebrows raising ever so slightly.

You knew what he wanted you to say so you said it. “I’d do anything for my King.”

Your hands rested against his knees, leaning your chin on his legs for comfort.

While one of his hands leaned down to cup your face, thumb tracing your plump lips as he admired them.

“You’re such a good sister.”

“I am?” You asked, shivering as his fingers grazed downwards to the column of your throat.

“Your King needs you to help him relax.” Aegon patted his trousers, waiting for you to take the hint and to climb onto his lap.

You didn’t take long, knowing the gesture and hiking up your skirts to straddle his legs.

But he was quick to position you, yanking your hips closer to him as he placed you over his crotch.

“Aegon,” you protested, feeling his hardness in his slacks.

But he was quick to silence you with a glare, hand gripping the back of your neck with a firmness that was cruel.

You couldn’t do this, your mother had forbidden you from crossing lines with Aegon. She was already so angry when she had heard a servant girl had caught him with his hands in his pants as you bathed in the same room as him.

“We can’t,” you shook your head at him, eyes growing wet. “Mother said-”

“I wear the crown now,” Aegon told you, lips forming a scowl. “Not mother.”

You only swallowed at that, barely knowing what to say. “Helaena.”

“I do love our sister but she doesn’t take care of me as a wife should,” Aegon said, lifting his hips up into you a bit. “Now that I’m King, I have all this stress that I need to get rid of.” A smile graced his lips at this “You know what I mean?”

You were nibbling at your bottom lip, trying to maintain the sounds that were bubbling at the back of your throat as he pushed his hips up into yours.

“None of that here,” Aegon tutted, using his thumb to release your lip from your teeth. “Your King wants to hear you.”

You sharply moaned in response, shaKing your head in embarrassment as you pouted down at him.

“Your King needs you now more than ever,” he breathed against your lips, bringing your face closer to his. “And you just swore you would do anything for your King, didn’t you?”

“Yes, Aeg- My King,” you whimpered, grinding your crotch down against him and finally giving in.

“Fuckng precious,” Aegon mumbled into you, pressing his lips into yours as he roughly kissed you.

His tongue didn’t waste a second, dominating yours as he grounded your hips further down against him.

It was you that broke the kiss, moaning into his mouth as the friction of the clothes between you rubbed at you in all the right ways.

“Going to have to be a more dutiful sister now that I’m King,” he hummed as he trailed his lips against your jaw. “Might have to move you into my room, don’t know when your King might need you.”

#aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aegon targaryen imagine #dark aegon targaryen #dark aegon smut #aegon targaryen ii x you #aegon ii fic

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natailiatulls07 · 3 months

Note

could i request some leclerc!reader and so comfort with charles please

It's okay

Arthur Leclerc Charles Leclerc Lorenzo Leclerc Pascale Leclerc & Leclerc!reader

Summary - In order to find her way in life, Y/n Leclerc runs away in the dead of night only leaving a note

Warning - neglection, running away

Growing up with three older brothers and two of such competing in karting competions, life was hard for Y/n Leclerc. Pascale and Hervé invested lots of their money and energy into Arthur and Charles.

When she was seven, Y/n's interest in ballet started. The young girl had her heart set on being a professional ballerina. So thats what she did. Y/n convince Pascale to enrol her in ballet class.

From then on, she became more and more talented. Quickly becoming the top of class. Yet when recitals came round and she was the lead, the only person who came to watch was Lorenzo.

The rest of the family were out at karting competitions cheering on Charles and Arthur. Yes they would apolgise to Y/n for their absence but to her it never really felt quite right.

Y/n was 14 years old, life got harder. Karting turned to formula 2 and E. Lorenzo now building his own life, he moved out of the house.

And the worst of all, Hervé Leclerc passed away. This meant attention was limited, Pascale was busy. She had her salon to run, she was running around supporting the two boys racing and she was mourning the lose of her partner.

As much as he wanted to support Y/n during her recitals, Lorenzos life became busier and he could no longer come along each recital. She felt as though no one her family could see her or her talent.

So what did she do? Y/n collected enough money to enrol herself into a ballet academy. In the dead of night she packed just enough and left without a sound. Of course she couldn't leave without leaving a note, she loved her family.

Dear Maman, Charlie and Arthur, I love you all dearly, please don't worry about me. I will be gone for a while, Lo Lo knows where I will be but please do not pester him. Thank you for everything and more Love from your dearest daughter, Y/n xx

Y/n Leclerc was a sensation, one of the best of her age. She was a household name, even if you weren't that well educated on ballet you knew who this elegant women was.

However, it was rare for the ballerina to speak publicily, Espercially as many would ask of her surname and family relations. And it wasn't hard to understand why.

"So Y/n please tell me, any relation to formula one driver Charles Leclerc?"

"No comment, thank you"

Charles, Arthur, Pascale and Lorenzo watched on, following her social media through burner accounts not wanting to make this harder for Y/n.

They could see how she spent most of her time dancing, spending time to herself or getting cocktails with friends she made along the way.

yourusername

Week in my life...

Spending time alone, you must prioritize self care

Fruit cocktails with friends, the key to my heart

Looking after the minis, they're the cutest little things

Lounging on my sofa after a long day of rehearsals, it is tiring!

Liked by cl_2648749 and 146,283 others

comments are limited

username Gorg gorg girlie

cl_2648749 <3

username I so wanna be her friend omfggg

But she wasn't stupid, Y/n knew who those burner accounts were. Every single post, the burner accounts were there front and center. She felt their eyes on her, it was silly really but she constantly felt like they were watching her.

However, Y/n felt warm with that in mind. Like they were finally noticing her for the first time. No longer was she fighting for the attension with her two older brothers. But was it just online? If she were to go back, would it go back to how it was before.

Plus she had built up a life on ballet. Y/n made a family with her friends. Everyone knew her, fuck she is a household name hiding her Leclerc identity from the world, even herself.

"I think it's a good idea! It's been long overdue in my opinion"

"No. We need to work to her choices, not make her uncomfortable."

"Okay when?!" Charles throws his arms in the air with frustration. He was pacing in front of the television; Arthur, Pascale and Lorenzo all sat on the sofa watching him.

The topic of Y/n came up in passing by Arthur and it became much more. Charles was fighting, he was desperate to get his dear little sister back home. However Lorenzo, knowing how Y/n felt about everything, was fighting back and trying to prioritize her feelings.

The constant pacing stopped abruptly, and Charles turned to look at Lorenzo with a harsh glare. "Why do you want to so desperately work to her choices? Are you in contact with her?" You could hear a penny drop.

Eyes snapped over to the oldest boy, all confused and harsh. Lorenzo sunk into himself. "I um..." He took a deep breath before continuing. "Yeah um so I kept contact with her yes"

"Is she okay?" The first question Pascale asked. Years of guilt plagued her mind, she neglected her own daughter and she was now paying the price for that.

Lorenzo nodded. "Yes, she's okay...Y/n she um built up a family through her friends and as you know she is doing well for herself..." A small proud smile morphed onto his face, he was proud of her for doing this for herself.

"Does she hate us for what we did?"

He breathed in and out. "No, she doesn't hate any of us...she understands completely..." That did ease some guilt for the other three, it would of killed them to know that she hated them, her own family.

There was silence for a couple of minutes whilst they all fell into their own thoughts. And then Pascale spoke up again. "Can you at least text her or call her whatever...talk to her, please tell her that we love her and that we want to see her again...we're so so proud and sorry"

Arthur and Charles both nodded in agreement. "I'll see what I can do..." Lorenzo promised.

It seemed that the next time they would see Y/n would come round much soon than expected. It wasn't planned, totally sporadic.

Charles was in the kitchen, in Lorenzos apartment. He was scrolling through his phone when there was a ring coming from Lorenzos phone. "Lorenzo! Your phone, it's ring!" Looking over the driver read the name.

Y/n

He knew it was wrong to answer the call, but it felt right like this would do something so he did. Charles picked up the phone and answer.

Before he could speak the voice he missed so dear filled his ear, yet it was panicked and he could hear uneven breathing.

"Lo I'm sorry please, I came back to Monte C but uh um the paps they um oh my god I can't breathe they keep following me! Please please I don't- I don't know where to go!" He missed her voice, granted it for much more mature and wiser now, he still missed it.

Though he was entranced by the situation, now very concerned. "It's okay, it's okay" His mind was on speed mode, much like it was in the car. "Send me the location, I'll come and collect you"

Y/n's voice came out calmer and confused now. "Cha...is that you?"

Charles nodded his head before realising she couldn't see him. "Yeah um it is Cha, I'm on my way" He rushed down to his ferrari.

Pulling up to her location, his heart clenched. Y/n had grown so much since he had last seen her, she had grown into herself and looked alot like Pascale now.

Charles climbed out of his car, walking over to her and collided her into a bone crushing hug. "Oh chérie, je suis vraiment désolé..." Oh darling, I'm so sorry

Tears soaked his shoulder, the whole chaos of the day and reuniting with her older brother weighing down on Y/n had finally toppled off completely.

She couldn't speak, just hung onto him. That long time spent away from her family catching up to her. "It's okay...it's okay..." Charles whispered in her ear.

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ne-nene-ne · 1 year

Text

♡ How to gain the dragon's affection ♡

-> things you can do to make this handsome fae weak in the knees

malleus x reader (fluff!)

Wear or carry the things he's gifted you!

Whether it's a necklace, bracelet, or even a mini gargoyle statue, have it on you! Malleus will beam with pride when he sees it on your person. I feel like he's a bit of a possessive person, so he'd love seeing you dressed in the things that he, himself has chosen and gifted you.

Indulge him in his passion for exploring ruins and his love for gargoyles!

If you show even the tiniest bit of interest in gargoyles or ruin exploring, you will see Malleus' eyes light up immediately and he will begin talking about it for hours. Please allow him to do so. Not many share his passion or are interested in these types of things (if at all), please listen to him ramble on. Heck, join the Gargoyle Studies Club! Give this dude some company because he's pretty much the only member there. 😭 And look, he's aware that not everyone is interested in the same things he is, but if you at least put in the effort to listen and try to understand, he'd be a happy fae

Include him in your activities!

We already know how much of a complex he has towards being invited/uninvited, so if you constantly make it a point to include him in whatever you're doing, he will feel loved. I don't think he'd be picky about what kind of activity you'd be doing. He'd be open-minded to whatever it is. In fact, he'd try to find possible ways to make it easier on you if it's a difficult task. If it's an artsy/creative activity, like painting, there's a chance he'll either be pretty good at it at first try, or he'll end up making a bit of a mess. I also don't think he'd mind much of this either, even if he did end up looking silly. He would laugh it off heartily and probably be like, "How interesting...!" He's curious about your ways and is very much willing to learn. His adoration for you will just increase if you try to teach him

Help him raise his tamagotchi!

He absolutely loves his Roaring Drago and so if you offer to help him "raise" it or offer to watch over it whenever he's busy, he'll fall more in love with you. Not only will he feel closer to you as you both nurture the little creature, he might even begin to see a future with you and your own little ones (if you ever had that in mind) and oh, how he knows how much he'd love that life dearly if it was spent with you.

Share that full-sized cake with him!

This one is oddly specific but as seen in his profile, Malleus dislikes full-sized cakes because he tried eating one entirely by himself 😅 (ofc he wouldn't feel great afterwards). You might be met with a resistant attitude or sour face from him (out of instinct) when you bring out that whole cake, but show him that it isn't as bad as he thinks when he shares it with someone. Maybe he'll like it! And if he doesn't, well then you guys can smear the leftovers on each other's faces and have a bit of fun!

This poor boy has just been left out on a lot. Make him feel welcomed, wanted, and loved and he will adore you forever 🥺❤️

a/n: not really proofread tbh but it was a fun one! I might just turn this into a series and do the same for other twst charas. I'm thinking of Azul or Leona next, hmm

And OKAY so I originally posted this on @lyneira (my brand new writing blog) but my posts on there aren't showing up in the tags yet so I guess I'll still be posting some of my writing here until tumblr allows them to be seen 😭 somebody pls interact with my new blog so that tumblr doesn't think I'm a bot 😔

#twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #nene writes~♡

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cooliofango · 5 months

Note

pocket princess!! if you feel up to it could you pls write something fluffy with price x reader x soap. id love to see something lighthearted with price handling his loves <3!!

Baby It’s Cold Outside

Pairing: Price x Reader x Soap

Word Count: 727

Synopsis: A soft shared moment of peace between the three loved ones on a snowy night 🫶

A/N: Absolutely crying cause I couldn’t think of how to make this one longer 😭😭😭. I hated how long this was taking tho so I did my best, I hope you like it! I will continue to work on your Gaz ask and make it longer I promise 👀

Cw: None! It’s fluffy content between Bun’s favorite boys 🫶

Winter is always one of your favorite seasons. It definitely isn’t because of the snow. You hate having to constantly uncover the white flakes of frozen water from your car and pray that the doors aren’t frozen shut. It isn’t necessarily because of the holidays, even if they are always fun to celebrate with loved ones. It’s not even about the peppermint lattes you love to get on the way to work every morning when it’s being sold at your local cafe. Winter is your favorite season because of the moment you currently find yourself in.

The dim light of the television was the only thing illuminating your shared bedroom. The chatter of the late night show was quiet, just although loud to hear the men gossip about the actor’s movie and their experience on set. “It’s all rubbish, the reviews he’s speakin’ of..” You hear John lazily mumble against the right side of your collarbone, “The movie wasn’t any good.” The brit is against your side with an arm wrapped snugly just under your chest. His head rests on your shoulder, nearly falling asleep on you as the season’s early nights took its toll. The neatly trimmed mutton chops tickle your skin as he settles further against you. It’s a warm weight against you that you’ve grown familiar with, as well as come to love.

“Didn’t know ye watch cheesy rom coms, captain.” The Scottish accent of your other boyfriend fills your senses from your left and you turn to look at him with the same amused smile he’s wearing. Johnny’s eyes are closed, more in a half conscious state than John is. His head rests lower on your body, more against your chest than your collarbone, with an arm around your stomach, leaving you sandwiched in between the two men you loved so dearly. In addition, one of his legs is also laced with yours.

“Occasionally..” John mutters after a moment’s silence, earning a quiet chuckle from the scot.

The lighthearted banter between the two of them was always endearing to you, filling you with more warmth than the heat the two bodies around you did. It was more than welcome with how cold it’s been lately. You take a glance out the window on the left wall of the room, watching as large snowflakes fall down continuously. The hand on John’s shoulder absentmindedly toys with the hem of his sleeve while the other traces gentle patterns onto Johnny’s back.

These moments are scarce, but you cherish them with every fiber of your being. It’s not everyday you get to enjoy the peace and quiet. The worries that plagued your mind everytime the two went out for work are non-existent, even if it's temporarily. It is as if the dangers and horrors of the real world just aren’t there anymore and it was just the three of you.

A heavy sigh of content left Johnny and you could feel his weight against you become heavier as he relaxed. John places a soft kiss against your warm skin. You smiled lovingly at the feeling, tilting your head to rest against the top of his.

A yawn slips past your lips and John smiles against your collarbone at the sound, reaching behind him to pluck the remote from the bedside table. His movements are slow and careful, not wanting to jostle the two of you too much and disturb the peace that’s made its way into the atmosphere. “Get some sleep, sweetheart,” John whispered to you. He hit the power button, sending the room into total darkness before setting the remote back onto the table. His weight shifts back onto you, easily snuggling back into the spot against you. The blanket is pulled back over you before his arm returns back across your torso.

“You, too. G’Night, Johnny,” John said this with a gentle tap to Johnny’s nose with his knuckle. The scot simply huffs, already in the process of dozing off against you.

The room grows silent now, save for the collective breaths of relaxation being shared between the three of you. Your head falls to lean against the pillow under it, eyes falling shut. The warmth of the two men’s physical presence and love helps you to settle in a blanket of comfort. It works wonders lulling you to sleep in a matter of minutes.

Taglist 🏷️

@bunnyreaper @bookobsessedram @numberonetastemakerwhispers @a-very-bored-blogger @hawsx3 @ohworm-writes @tokusho @kitkatscabinet

#cooliofango writes #john price x reader #price x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #price x reader x soap #soap x reader x price #pricesoap x reader #soapprice x reader #requests open #reader insert #oneshots #requests #one shots #lovely bun 💕🐰

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thefrogdalorian · 2 months

Text

Rest

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: Despite how often you have pleaded with Din to stop and rest, your calls have gone unheeded. Your stubborn Mandalorian will not stop and take care of himself. So, when he arrives back from his latest job with the New Republic utterly exhausted, you take matters into your own hands and ensure he gets the rest he so desperately needs. Word Count: 3.1k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: None, pure fluff! ✯ Author's Note: I was talking with a friend earlier about how Din would go to the ends of the galaxy for those he loves and it finally got me to finish a little idea I'd been sitting one for a while. His determination and protectiveness is one of my favourite things about him, but the threat of burnout would be real! He would desperately need a rest and someone there to make sure he gets it, because you know he'd never rest himself. Anyway, thank you @suresnips for inspiring this in some way. I hope it cheers you up a little 🤍

✯ My Masterlist ✯

One of the most difficult things about sharing your life with a man whose face was near-permanently hidden, was that you were unable to spot the tell-tale signs of fatigue that were surely present on his features until things reached a crisis point. The helmet that he wore in accordance with his Creed shielded so many of the expressions which were distinctively Din Djarin from the rest of the galaxy. You thought it was a shame that they were denied the privilege of seeing the handsome features and expressive brown eyes which belonged to the Mandalorian whom you loved so dearly. Then again, it meant they were entirely reserved for you, and the little green child who completed your Clan of Three.

You had first encountered Din in the aftermath of his mission to retake Mandalore. There had been whispers that one of the Mandalorians who had helped to save your homeplanet of Nevarro from a band of diabolical pirates had taken up residence by the lava flats. You were not inclined to believe rumours and had been stunned when you had seen the gleaming unpainted beskar, dazzling in the afternoon sunlight as he made his way through the marketplace one day.

The first time you and Din had a conversation, as he bought wares from the market stall you owned, the connection had been evident. With his deep, gravelly voice and understanding, patient nature, even when you tripped over your words as you peddled your wares, you found him constantly on your mind. Over the next few months, your paths had crossed enough times for it to become evident that the feeling was mutual.

Now, you were fortunate to reside in the little cabin that Din owned by the lava flats of Nevarro. Your home was a little slice of heaven that the two of you had carved out together alongside Grogu. When you saw how hectic and chaotic Din’s life was, you were grateful that he had allowed you to get close to him. You wondered how he had managed before he had forged a life with you and how he had looked after himself before you were around to share some of the burden. Your heart ached to think of Din alone, neglecting his own needs at the expense of others. He was selfless and devoted to those he loved by nature, but sometimes Din needed taking care of himself.

Happily, now the two of you had found each other, you were a true partnership in every sense of the word.

On your worst days, Din was there to pick you up and brighten your spirits, just as, in turn, you were there for him. You celebrated each other’s successes when times were good, too. Which, fortunately, was the case more often than not. Life with Din was always exciting; even when he was away from you, he always took the effort to keep in touch.

You were stunned when you first met Din and he regaled you with details of recent events in his life, that he had not allowed himself to rest on his laurels and enjoy the glory after completing such an arduous task as retaking Mandalore. Instead, he had taken jobs with the New Republic and turned his former bounty hunting skills to helping to keep the galaxy safe. It was relentless, exhausting work. But his determined nature meant that he was only too eager to lend his services to them whenever a job came up.

Monitoring Din for signs of fatigue was particularly difficult when the best visuals you got was a grainy few minutes of his helmeted form visible on your holoprojector, or a few moments of audio on your comlink whenever his schedule permitted. You had been begging Din to rest for several weeks now, but he had not heeded your requests. Since you had moved into the cabin with him and were able to care for Grogu, it had allowed him to take more dangerous jobs that he would have felt uncomfortable with Grogu accompanying him on, such as the most recent job that he had agreed to. You had been frustrated when he informed you about another assignment. You were deathly afraid that he would work himself into the ground if he wasn’t careful. Your pleas for him to postpone the job and rest had been unheeded.

If Din wouldn’t take care of himself, it fell on your shoulders to keep an eye on him. So, this time, when he returned from his latest job, you resolved that you would not be so easy on him.

This time, Din Djarin would rest.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The rumble of the N-1’s engines as the Nubian starfighter descended through the Nevarrian atmosphere was a welcome sound in the stillness of the night. For hours, the only sounds audible in the cabin had been the faint snores of Grogu from his room and your racing thoughts. Now, the distant growl of the engines, which turned into a roar as they grew nearer, signalled your favourite Mandalorian’s return from his most recent mission.

You were up like a shot, racing towards the door and out into the night to greet Din. Yet, any excitement you felt soon dissipated when you saw how sluggishly he moved. The man who often so energetically leapt out of the cockpit, as though it were no effort at all, was now a lethargic figure in the darkness. As he leapt onto the volcanic surface of the planet, he barely managed to regain his posture after bending his knees in a smooth landing. Instead, he leant back against the body of the N-1.

You shook your head as you approached him, frustrated that he had been so stubborn and ignored your protestations when he informed you about his latest mission. A time for scolding him would come later, though. For now, you walked across the ground, closing the distance between the two of you.

Instinctively, Din had held his arms out in preparation for you to step into his embrace. Even in his fatigued state, his exhausted body still knew that he wanted you in his arms. You smiled as you nestled your head into the crook of his neck and wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling his warmth between the cool plates of beskar.

“I missed you,” you whispered into Din’s cowl.

“I missed you too, cyare,” Din replied, his voice low and husky as he rubbed circles into your back with his large hands.

“Let’s go inside,” you insisted as you stepped away from his embrace and took his hand in yours, leading him towards the cabin. Towards home. Towards rest.

You hoped that the child you had finally managed to see settled in his cot had not awakened at the sound of the engines. Getting Grogu to sleep had only proved successful after several hours of tantrums when you had forbidden him to stay up past his bedtime to greet his father. It was probably harsh, but you knew that Din was keen that his son maintained a regular sleeping schedule. Which was ironic, considering how little he respected his own needs for rest.

Din's stubborness and insistence that he was fine meant that ensuring Din had some much-needed rest was a burden which fell squarely on you. If the way he had strained as he leapt from the N-1 had not been proof enough, his heavy footsteps as he trudged back to the cabin by your side further indicated his need for rest.

Unfortunately, as soon as you stepped through the entryway to the cabin, you were greeted by a certain child and his pleading brown eyes. Grogu had not missed his father’s return and he wanted attention. Din was never one to begrudge Grogu’s needs, and without hesitation, he pulled his helmet off and crouched down to scoop his son up. You silently cringed as you noticed the way he grunted thanks to the exertion of such an action. He desperately needed to rest.

But Din Djarin was a stubborn man.

“Din, let me put Grogu to sleep. You need to rest,” you reminded him as he took Grogu into his arms.

“I’m fine,” he shrugged off your concerns once again, “I'll put Grogu to sleep.”

As the two of them disappeared down the small hallway and into Grogu’s room, you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. Then, you took a deep breath and in an attempt to ensure your anger did not get the better of you. If there was one common thread that ran through Din Djarin's every action, it was his absolute devotion to his son. Nothing in this galaxy would ever stand in the way of him and Grogu. You knew Din would do anything for his son, even at the expense of his well-being.

Fortunately, you knew you were there to take care of Din. So you allowed him his precious time with his son and resolved to be there for him afterwards and take care of his weary mind and fatigued body. You padded down the hallway towards the room you and Din shared, pausing briefly outside Grogu’s room. You smiled at the sounds you could hear through the door. You could hear the heartwarming sound of a child’s giggles and the familiar rasp of Din’s husky voice as he recounted various stories from his recent mission to his son.

Satisfied that Din had not fallen asleep on top of Grogu at the very least, you entered your room and set about gathering the most luxurious pyjamas he owned. You had already changed the sheets to the softest silks in the galaxy in preparation for his return, hoping that once he felt them against his skin he would not fight you when you insisted he rest. You lay the pyjamas on the sheets and perched on the side of your cot to await Din’s return. You were content to give him some alone time with his precious boy.

Finally, leaden footsteps sounded at the door, indicating that Grogu was asleep. Now, it was time to ensure that Din finally rested.

“Hi,” Din sighed, with a smile that did not quite meet his exhausted eyes.

“Hi,” you breathed.

As he stepped towards you, you noticed how deep the wrinkles on his face had become. You always loved the lines and grooves present on his face. They complimented the greys apparent in the smattering of facial hair across his strong jawline. You thought such features made him look distinguished and handsome, rather than old and exhausted. Tonight, though, their appearanced alarmed you. They were deeper than usual. You had never seen Din look so exhausted. His usual bright, warm brown eyes were dulled and dark. They were slightly bloodshot, too. Your heart ached at the sight of him.

“You look exhausted,” you observed.

“I’m fine,” Din insisted.

“The bags under your eyes suggest otherwise.”

At your comment, Din’s ungloved hands balled into fists at his sides. He sighed through gritted teeth. You hated the way he shrugged off your concerns so nonchalantly and your observations

“Din,” you sighed, “You are allowed to rest sometimes, you know?”

“I know.”

“Well then, why don’t you let me take care of you? Why don’t you sit on the new silk sheets that I put on, especially for you, and let me take your armour off?”

“I can do it,” Din shook his head and averted his gaze.

“I know you can, but I want to help you,” you nodded as you pushed yourself off the cot and stepped towards him. “You do so much for me and Grogu. You do so much for the entire galaxy. You must be exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” Din repeated. This time, hearing those words caused something to snap inside of you. You had reached the end of your tether.

“Din, you look like you haven’t slept since you left a week ago! You’re going to run yourself into the ground!” you exclaimed forcefully, voice a little louder than you intended.

You both stopped and looked in the direction of Grogu’s room, panic-stricken that you had awoken him. Fortunately, there was no noise. Grogu still slept soundly. At your outburst, when Din’s dull eyes met yours again, you noticed that a flicker of recognition had set across his features now. He understood that resting was not a sign of weakness.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” you apologised, instantly remorseful.

“It’s alright,” Din reassured you.

“Please let me shoulder some of the burden, Din. Please don’t fight me on this,” you pleaded.

“Okay,” Din nodded and took a seat on the edge of the cot.

You busied yourself with the various intricate fixtures that attached each piece of Din’s armour to his body, placing them on the floor at his side with as much care as you had observed him pay towards them. Din would stack them properly come the morning. He was meticulous and particular about the way they fitted on each shelf of the cabinet that was fixed into the wall for the very purpose of storing his armour. Even if you stacked them yourself, Din would do it again tomorrow. Better to preserve your energy and make sure he rested first.

By the time you had finished removing his armour, Din’s head was slumped to one side and his eyes were closed. Your heart soared at sight, and the small sounds of his soft snores. Before you could even finish undressing him, he had drifted off to sleep. Finally, the creases in his face looked less terrifying. He looked so peaceful that you hated to wake him. But sleeping in his flightsuit would not be comfortable and the garments you had laid out for him were of the most luxurious material in the galaxy. You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“Din, I’m sorry to wake you, honey,” you said apologetically, lips against his forehead.

Din continued snoring softly. It seemed a more drastic gesture would be in order. You leaned down and pressed your lips to his, smiling softly at the way his moustache tickled your upper lip. It was slightly longer than he usually kept it which was unusual for Din, given his fastidious nature. His latest job had been so hectic that personal grooming had fallen by the wayside.

Fortunately, the kiss had the desired effect and Din’s eyes flickered open momentarily. You seized the opportunity.

“Din, why don’t you stand up for a second so I can help you into your pyjamas?” you whispered into his dark brown curls.

“Hmph,” Din grunted in response, his eyes still shut.

“It’ll be worth it, you’ll be comfortable then,” you suggested.

Din opened his eyes, bleary thanks to your rude interruption of his peaceful slumber, and nodded slowly. You steadied him as he stood to his feet on shaky legs and helped him as he removed his final garments. With the pesky flak vest and flightsuit discarded, the final barriers to Din and some much-needed rest had been removed.

Now clad in his luxurious silk pyjamas, you pulled the top sheets back for Din to clamber into the warmth and sanctuary of your cot, which he did without hesitation. In the time that it took for you to turn the light out and round the cot to join him, the quiet snores had resumed. You shook your head and smirked at the further proof – as if any more were required – of just how exhausted Din had been. You sighed in contentment as you took your place behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You rested them against his body, enjoying the warmth which radiated from his body. Sleeping in the cabin without Din felt cold and lonely, now he had returned and that contrast was even more stark.

“I love you, Din,” you whispered into the nape of his neck, watching as your breath caused the dark brown curls which lingered there to flutter slightly. “Even when you’re stubborn,” you added.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The sensation of warm lips as they pressed a soft kiss to your forehead awoke you from the sleep you had drifted off into. Your eyelids fluttered open. In the golden light of a Nevarrian morning, you were finally able to see the warm brown eyes of the man you loved beyond comparison gazing at you adoringly.

“Good morning,” Din rasped before he claimed your lips with his in a languid kiss.

“Morning, Din,” you sighed when you finally parted. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept well, thank you,” Din nodded.

“Glad to hear it,” you murmured as you stretched your arms out.

“Thank you for last night,” Din sighed against your lips. “I’m sorry for being so pigheaded.”

“It’s alright, Din,” you smiled in gratitude that he was aware of his stubbornness. “I know being taken care of is a new experience for you.”

“It is,” Din confirmed as he rolled off you and came to rest at your side. “But I appreciate your concern.”

“I know you do,” you nodded. “Which is why you’re going to take another nap, while I wake Grogu up and prepare some breakfast for us.”

“But–”

“Ah!” you said, raising a finger to his plush lips which were currently positioned in an adorable pout. “No fighting me on this, let me take care of you. Okay?”

“Fine,” Din huffed.

“Awww,” you cooed and stroked his cheek affectionately. “You’re pretty adorable when you’re grumpy, you know?”

“I’m not adorable,” Din sulked.

“You are,” you giggled at his ridiculousness. “Now, roll over and let me hold you again until you fall asleep.”

Din turned over wordlessly, settling into position in preparation for a nap. Your arms found their position around his waist once more and you pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck, which produced a rumble of laughter from somewhere deep within him.

“I love you, Din. Even when you’re stubborn,” you whispered into his ear, repeating the words that he had not heard the previous night.

“I love you too,” Din replied. “Thank you for putting up for me.”

“Of course, honey,” you nodded. “I’m stuck with you now.”

“Thank Maker. I don’t know how I ever managed before our paths crossed,” Din sighed sleepily as you placed your hands underneath his shirt and traced soothing circles into the warm expanse of his belly.

“I don’t know, either,” you chuckled at the thought.

But the time for worrying about how differently the respective courses of your lives could have taken, were it not for that chance meeting at the market on Nevarro all those months ago, would come later.

For now, it was time for Din Djarin to rest.

#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 #din djarin fluff #pedro pascal characters #my fics #this is seriousl Y SO SOFT AJJGHJHH AND CALLING DIN HONEY MAYBE ILL RIP MY HAIR OUT!!!!!!#i love him i love hiM I LOVE HIM

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