Fic Rec List

See No Evil, Hear No Evil {1}

Aemond One-Eye x deaf!fem!reader Summary: Love blossoms when you get to know the sweet man and not the cocky Prince. Warnings: fluff, Aegon being a predator, more fluff. I know lip reading is not easy or infallible but for this the reader is able to read lips almost perfectly. WC: 4.9k

Part One || Part Two || Part Three ||

Couples were dancing around the space that had earlier been occupied by long tables for the feast, their joyous smiles twisting your gut with jealousy. No one would ask you to join them, not when you could not hear the very music that set the pace.

Returning your attention to the table that you were seated at, you watched the men and women intently. Some glared at you when they caught your eyes on them, waving their hand as if it could blow you out of sight and out of mind. Moving on to the next, you found a single blue eye staring back. 

Prince Aemond. He was another social outcast, though his personality was as much to blame as the jagged scar that ran through his left eye. There was always a taunting smirk on his lips and a cold gleam in his eye, it sent the courtiers vying for the hand of anyone but him. Not even the power hungry, attention seekers dared to subject themselves to his viperous nature. 

His brother captured his attention and whatever spell had kept you enthralled with his stare broke. The two Targaryen princes leaned together and Aemond’s lips pursed as Aegon spoke with nervous mannerisms that warned you they would have been whispering, but you could read his lips. 

“There is something desirable about a silent woman,” Aegon said as his eyes flickered your way. “But I would do anything to make her scream.”

Aemond’s lips pulled back with a sneer before he answered, “I can only imagine the depravities that fill your mind.”

“I do not think you have the creativity needed to imagine them, little brother.”

“Thank the gods for that blessing,” Aemond said as he leant back. “She is too intelligent for you anyhow.”

“Intelligent?” Aegon rocked back with a laugh that drew the others’ attention to him. “She cannot hear and does not speak.”

Aemond turned his eye back to you. “Then she must see a great deal, for there is definitely intelligence behind those eyes.”

“Then I would face her down when I bed her.”

You looked away and wrapped your fingers around the silver goblet so they were occupied and the trembling was hopefully unnoticeable. You had expected no better of the eldest son of the King, he was known to stick his fingers in many pies - though sometimes he didn’t stop at his fingers. 

You might have been deaf to the tales the maids spoke of as they prepared you but you saw everything from the tears in their eyes to the bruises barely hidden by their uniforms. Just the thought of Aegon even noticing you had a knot twisting in your stomach.

Pushing the velvet-lined chair back, you rose from the table and nodded silently to the sickly Viserys. He gave a weak dismal wave of his hand that rested on the arm of his chair and you pressed your fingertips to your chin in return, thanking him for permitting your leave. After flattening the layers of skirts that had creased beneath the table, you laced your fingers together and ignored the two stares that watched your retreat from the dining room. 

The feeling of spiders dancing down your spine didn’t ease, even after you had snaked your way through Red Keep to the atheneum. There would normally be a maester wandering the quiet halls full of books, organising the rows into alphabetical fashion and finding requested pieces for others, but with the late hour it was empty. 

The scent of dust and beeswax greeted you as you closed the door behind you. Someone had been waxing a leather bound book cover and the yellow bar had been left beside a half shiny cover as if they might return at any moment. Walking over to the small table, you opened the cover to see what the book was and found it to be a personal journal of Aegon the Conqueror. 

Warmth touched your nape and your lips parted with a sharp intake of breath as you spun around, your legs tangling in the skirts and your hip hitting the table with a sharp jolt of pain. Aemond stepped back with a smirk, his hands raised in innocence that was betrayed by the amusement in his eye.

“Apologies,” he said. “I did not mean to startle you.”

You rubbed your palm over the bruise that would no doubt be forming and narrowed your eyes at the blatant lie. “I shall rephrase, I did not mean for you to get hurt.” Aemond’s smirk grew until his lips parted and his shoulders bounced with a laugh. “I know you can understand me.”

He reached for you and you froze at the closeness, and his scent that washed over you as his hair nearly brushed your cheek. He smelt of the woods you had run through as a child, pine and earth, fresh and rich. Then there was the fruity yet tarty hint of wine that followed as he exhaled slowly, as if he had taken an equally long inhale of the floral perfume you wore.

As quick as he had come for you, he was gone, Aegon’s journal with him and you let out a shuddering breath as you realised you were not the object he had been reaching for. He seemed to take pleasure in the confusion on your face as he smirked once again and tucked the novel under his arm with a mocking bow. 

His eye lingered on your hip as he straightened. “Take care, milady.”

You could not breathe again until the door sealed shut but you no longer felt the calm that you usually found in the athenium, the books no longer welcoming as the tall shelves towered above you with their dark shadows. Angered by the effect Aemond had in your place of sanctuary, you swiped a book from the closest shelf and made for your chambers and the thick lock bolt that you could hide behind. 

The courtyard was busier than usual as you took a seat on a stool against the Keep walls. The airy space had become a favourite place to sit since you were not allowed to leave the high red brick walls without an escort. Since this was not your House territory you had to rely upon King Viserys’ white cloaked guards but you did not wish to make a fuss so you had not utilised the soldiers. 

The sky was blue and the clouds that had blanketed the city at dawn were quickly evaporated by the heat and it enticed many others to step into the sunshine. Pulling your small bound notebook from the pocket in your skirt, you unwrapped a stick of coal and looked around for something to catch your eyes. The twin guards, Arryk and Erryk, were huddled close as they entered through the gates and your hand moved across the page.

E: She paid another maid to leave last night in the cover of darkness. That is the fourth this month. A: What did you expect? Bastards don’t belong in the Keep. E: Someone needs to stop him. A: Careful, brother, what you speak could be considered treason.

They disappeared deeper into the Keep and you read over the dialogue trying to understand what they had been talking of when a shadow passed over the page. You slammed the book closed and looked up, momentarily blinded by the bright sun reflecting off the head of long silvery white hair. 

The stick of coal had fallen to the dirt in your rush to hide the page and Aemond crouched before you to gather it, holding it out in his palm. Your eyes lingered on the calluses from hours of training and the thin scars that littered the skin that peeked out from under his tunic. 

You had not seen him since the incident in the atheneum and you had forgotten the connection that had seemed palpable in the days gone by but now you were once again caught by his eye. You had failed to notice the flecks of violet in the pale blue iris when you last saw them but that was in a dimly lit room, in the sun they were almost iridescent.

It wasn’t until he took your hand and unfurled your fingers that you realised how long you had stared, breaking away with embarrassment as he placed the coal into your palm. The hairs on your nape rose under the intensity of the moment and you curled your fingers around the coal gently so as not to crush your writing tool. You slipped the coal back into your pocket and pressed your fingers to your chin.

“You’re welcome,” he replied with a small smile. He reached for your face and your breath froze in your lungs as he ran his thumb softly across jaw. “Can’t have a smudge of coal hiding your beauty.”

You were certain you read his lips wrong but the flutter in your chest betrayed your common sense and a smile tugged at your lips. His eye followed the curve of your smile and he had to shake his head to clear his thoughts before rising to his feet. 

“Care to walk with me, milady?”

You could feel eyes on you as the crowd snooped to see why the One Eyed Prince would be talking to you. You had long ago learned to ignore the stares but for some reason that seemed a harder task today. Tucking your notebook away, you accepted his offer with a nod and let him lead the way to the Royal gardens that were usually off limits.

“I must admit, you intrigue me,” Aemond said after stopping beneath the weirwood tree and facing you. “You and your notebook that you carry everywhere.”

You automatically pressed your hand to the reassuring weight and frowned, wondering where this was leading to.

“May I see it?”

Your fingers tightened around it and you shook your head adamantly. A heat flared across your skin at the thought of him reading your notes and looking at the drawings that you attempted. He appeared within the pages far too often for your own liking. 

“As prince, I could demand it of you,” he said as he stepped closer. The wind changed and caught his hair, flicking wayward strands over his shoulder and the scent of lemon verbena shampoo drifted your way along with the purely masculine musk of sweat from training. 

You walked away, needing to clear your senses that he overpowered much like his very presence in the garden. The notebook suddenly seemed like an anchor and each step was heavy as you took a seat on the edge of a long bench in the shade. From the corner of your vision you saw Aemond sit at the other end, the entire length separating him from you. 

Tap, tap, tap. 

Your fingers tingled with the vibrations as they rested atop the bench beside your legs. 

Tap, tap, tap.

You turned to face Aemond and found his smirk growing as he used his fingernail to tap and scratch the wood. 

“You can feel that, can’t you?”

You nodded your head and his smile grew, transforming his face and erasing the harsh lines that were usually shaped with a scowl. You startled with the realisation that you found him handsome and your palms grew warm as you wiped them on your dress that was suddenly too heavy for the spring weather.

Tap, tap, tap.

You were pulled from your thoughts and looked back at the prince, hoping he could not see the effect he had on you but the intensity to his stare made you feel naked, as if every thought you ever had was laid bare for him to read. 

His lips parted with a sharp intake and he leant closer, though he was still far from reach as he mouthed the word, “Beautiful.”

There was something therapeutic in being around the horses and you often found yourself wandering into the stables. The servants and stableboys no longer sent you odd looks as they grew used to your presence most days and you were grateful to be left in solitude as you combed the black and grey haired stallion that had caught your eye. 

You had just placed the comb back on the hook that hung beside the gate when you felt vibrations in the wood beneath your hand. 

Tap, tap, tap.

Stunned, you turned to find Aemond resting against the gate with a lazy smile on his face.

“I hope you aren’t planning on stealing my horse, gorgeous.” 

You rolled your eyes and didn't dignify him with an answer as you reached into your skirt pockets and found the carrot you had stolen from dinner the night before. Aemond’s shadow followed you as he opened the gate and stepped inside the stall, his hand landing gently on your shoulder so you were aware of where he was, as if you hadn’t been keeping track.

“No wonder Storm was slow to gallop,” Aemond said as he faced you from the other side of his horse, his hand petting down the long mane. “You have been spoiling him.”

You kept your palm flat as you Storm’s lips pulled back and he greedily took the carrot. The name suited the horse with his colourings of the turbulent stormy skies and you scratched his ear while he finished his snack. 

“As much as I enjoy hearing my own voice, there must be another way for us to communicate.” Aemond stepped around the front of Storm and you frowned as you no longer felt the urge to back away from him as you had in the past. “Teach me the signs I have seen you do.”

You were shocked by his request even though you knew him to be an intellect and a scholar, the fact that he spent so many mornings training to be a warrior seemed to fill you with the idea that he was more brute than student. Your nursemaid had been the one to help you create the secret language but it had never really expanded past what a child might need to convey. You had relied upon written communication but that was only useful with the highborns who were educated, unfortunately most of the servants were illiterate. 

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the notebook you were never without and tore out a blank page before he could see what secrets the book held. He watched as your handwriting sprawled across the page and you could see his chest bouncing with a laugh before he took it from you.

He slipped the note into the folds of his cloak with an amused smile, not at all offended by the message you had given him. You smell. Bathe first, then I will teach you.

“I shall meet you in the library, milady, after bathing of course.” He bowed at the waist though his eye never left you and you didn’t see the mocking smile he had given you the last time he had made the gesture. The pale blue orb seemed to zero in on the pulse at your neck, as if he could see how rapidly it raced in his intense presence. “I shall see you soon.”

Three Months Later

You had seen neither hide nor hair of Aemond as you strolled the halls of the Keep, the tourney for his brother’s name day was about to begin and you did not wish to enter the highborn box alone. Giving up hope on finding him, you followed the few other ladies who were late and slipped into the back row in the hopes your presence would go unnoticed.

The bench seat kept shifting as ladies rose with their garlands, tossing the favours to the lords who asked in hopes they might win their challenge with the luck. Each time they moved you cursed inwardly and settled your heart that pounded erratically, wishing the entire event be over with. 

You were tracing the embroidered floral design on your skirts when a hand waved in front of your face and you nearly fell back in fright. The only person you knew it wasn’t was Aemond, he knew to touch your shoulder to get your attention so as not to give you a heart attack. Peering up as you clutched your chest, you found Lady Reyne looking apologetic as she pointed to the front where the jousting course was set. 

Aemond sat atop his horse, patiently waiting with a smile as he caught your eyes. A thousand questions ran through your head as you rose from the bench and clutched the favour of woven asters and budding chrysanthemums to your breast. You could feel the eyes of the entire crowd following your steps down to the front of the highborn box and past King Viserys, but there was only one that held you captive. 

“May I ask for your favour, milady?”

You nodded with a smile, grateful that you had taken his advice to make the flower crown. When he said that someone may ask one of you, your head had fallen back with a silent laugh before you shook your head, but he had insisted and you could not deny him. 

Casting the favour out, it twirled down the length of his jousting pole until it reached his hand. His smile was brighter than the sun as he pulled at the reins of his stallion and made his way to the lists. His mother caught your hand with a gentle smile as you passed by and she patted the space beside her in invitation. 

You ringed your fingers nervously as you watched Aemond’s armour shimmer in the sunlight while his horse paced, awaiting the drop of the flag to begin the match. Alicent placed her hand over yours, unclenching them and lacing them with hers as she fretted over her son. You could tell she liked the idea of seeing her son facing a jousting opponent as much as you did. You had seen the heinous injuries one could get in the sport. 

Alicent patted your hand and you tore your eyes away from Aemond to look at her as she said, “He will be fine, dear. Aemond is one of the best.”

You nodded and hoped it looked reassuring before you noticed the flag drop. Aemond kicked his boots in the stirrups and his horse took off, kicking a spray of sand up behind him. You barely breathed as he raced along the fence and levelled out his pole, his opponent doing the same. Time seemed to slow as the poles crossed each other and crashed wood against armour, shattering into splinters. 

The air in your lungs exploded from you as you jumped to your feet and rushed to the rail to see Aemond still atop his horse. His opponent was sprawled across the sand but Aemond paid him no mind as he circled back to the rail where you waited and pulled his helmet from his head before shaking out his long hair that was mussed up. 

“Is your heart still in your chest?” Aemond asked as he looked up at you, amusement teasing a smirk on his lips.

You pointed to yourself and curled your fingers over your face before pointing to him, his lips parting with a laugh that shook his shoulders. 

“Why are you mad at me? I won.”

Waving him off, you noticed the next opponents were arriving to request their favours and he shot them a dirty look as they interrupted you. 

“Meet me in the library.”

You nodded and moved away as two ladies reached the railing, missing the smile Alicent had after watching the interaction. 

The tourney would continue all day so it was no surprise to find the athenium empty when you arrived and took a seat on the plush settee. The stained glass windows cast a colourful shadow across the stone floor and you reached into your pocket for your notebook and coal to capture the image. 

You were just finishing with the shading and smudging the shadows onto the parchment with your fingertip when you felt the air shift around your face. A smile was already pulling on your lips when you looked up to find Aemond dressed once more in his finery and his hair still damp from bathing. The citrus tart of his soap teased your nose and you reached for him as you closed your book. 

He let you pull him onto the cushioned seat beside you and chuckled to himself as you ran your hands over his fitted shirt before he caught your hands. “I am unharmed.”

You narrowed your eyes at him until he released your hands to continue to make their own assessment. When you were satisfied that he was not just trying to placate you, you shuffled closer and slipped under his arm that he opened for you in invitation. 

While waiting for his arrival you had been wondering how you could return the gesture he had made for you in front of the entire city and he could sense your unrest as you shifted in your seat. Unable to look him in the eye, you grabbed your notebook and placed it on his lap.

His fingers traced your jaw and turned you to face him so you could see what he had to say. “Are you sure?”

You nodded before you lost your courage and he carefully opened the bound covering as if it were an invaluable, fragile piece of history. He treated it knowing how you cherished it. 

You did not look to see what pages he perused, some drawings and some snippets of passing conversations, but instead watched his reactions. With each turn of the page you knew what he would find and your nervousness grew. The drawings of Red Keep and the Royal Gardens would soon change and he would see himself through your eyes. 

It had not taken long for him to become your muse, in fact in the last few months it had become an addiction. There was not a day that passed where you didn’t want to capture his likeness, sometimes it was when the sunlight caught his hair or the smile that he reserved just for you. 

His lips parted with surprise and you knew he had reached the moment you had first given in to your desire and drawn him content in the gardens. Your palms turned clammy and your heart threatened to beat right out of your chest as he turned each page until he reached the last and closed it.

You swallowed the lump in your throat as he turned to you and you saw his eye shimmering with unshed tears. Of all the reactions, that was not one that you could have expected. Aemond was always so collected and cool until you had peeled back the layers of his self-protection but this was the last mask to fall away. 

You reached for his cheek, cupping the warm skin as you wiped away the single tear that escaped before he closed his eye and leaned into the touch. 

“Thank you,” he said as he opened his eye again, blinking away the rest of the tears before they could fall. “No one draws my eyes.”

You frowned at the statement and he sighed from the heavy breath of air that brushed over your skin. “The artists who take our portraits do so from my right, this,” he tapped his leather eye patch, “makes them uncomfortable.”

Tears welled in your own eyes as you saw the pain he still felt though the wound had long healed. Though it was compromising, you rose to your knees and straddled his legs, shock flitting across his face before fear seeped in as you reached for the leather patch. 

“It is not pretty, milady.”

You circled your palm over your chest and you thought he would deny your plea for permission as he pursed his lips but then he bowed his head with a nod. 

His eye stared intently at you as you traced your finger over the leather that had been warmed by his body heat. The smooth material was softer than you thought it would be as you eased it from his head and bared his scar for the first time. Your breath rushed through your parted lips as you saw the crude line that had carved through his eyebrow, down his eye and across his cheek. 

He turned away and your heart clenched as he hid himself from you but he had to know, it wasn’t the scar that caused your reaction, you were horrified at how he had been hurt so badly. Cradling his cheeks in your hands, you gently guided him back to you but still he refused eye contact.

There was only one way you could show him how you felt and your stomach fluttered at the thought as you pulled him closer and pressed your lips to his cheek, just below the scar. His breath warmed your shoulder as he shuddered beneath your touch and you kissed him a little higher, grazing the skin that changed from smooth to raised. The tension in his shoulders relaxed with each soft kiss and when you pulled back you were able to admire the sapphire that replaced his missing eye without him turning away.

“Are you not repulsed?”

Your brows knitted together in confusion as you shook your head and stood up, instantly missing the warmth of his hands where they had rested on your hips. He watched curiously as you grabbed your notebook from where he had placed it and fished your pockets for the coal. Though you wanted to sit close to him it was not the right place for what you wanted to do and so you took a seat on the settee opposite.

Not liking how far you were away either, he tried to stand and join you but the stern finger you pointed at him had him sinking back into the cushions while you found a blank page. He remained still as you captured his likeness on the page and the colourful shadows of the stained glass window reached his hair. 

You knew of merchants that could recreate colours with ochre and malachite collected from Essos but even with your family’s wealth the rare minerals remained out of reach. You were left with the common sticks of coal and on your name day you often received the finer illustrator of graphite. 

Satisfied by the portrayal, from the long strands of hair that were now dry to the strong jawline that had felt better than imagined in your hands, you rose from the chair. Aemond welcomed you back into his arms and eagerly looked at the page that was still open. His throat bounced with the swallow he took and you chewed on your bottom lip as you waited with bated breath.

He turned slowly so you could see his lips before he spoke, “This is how you see me?” 

You looked at the picture and smiled at the face of a confident, handsome young man as he faced the world without having to hide. Looking back at Aemond, you placed your hand over his heart and nodded. 

His arms pulled you closer as he dipped his head and your body trembled in anticipation. Every nerve ending flared to life when his lips caressed yours ever so softly and your hands tangled in his hair as you returned the kiss with more force. You could feel his smile against you before he gave you what you needed and deepened the kiss, stealing your breath until you broke away feeling lightheaded. 

His thumb traced your tingling lips as you slipped back into the seat, tucked under his arm, and you saw his kiss-swollen lips. You imagined yours looked the same and heat flooded you with the thought of being caught in the compromising state. A sliver of panic grew in your chest, if rumours spread then you would be shamed from your family so you scampered from the chair and brushed your hands over your skirts.

Alarm erupted from Aemond at the sudden change and he watched you right yourself, hurt haunting his blue eye before he too rose. “Please do not regret what we shared.”

You froze, your jaw dropping at what he had mistaken your fear as and against your better judgement, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his narrow waist as you shook your head. He curled himself around you until you felt entirely enveloped by his arms and his scent as he buried his face in your neck.

Pulling away reluctantly, he took your hand and placed it on his chest so you could feel the thunderous beat of his heart as it raced. “This belongs to you and I am yours if you will have me.”

His face blurred as tears welled in your eyes, the fierce nod of your head sending them cascading down your cheeks until he wiped them away with a proud smile. 

“I thought of another sign,” he said as he lifted his right hand up so his palm faced you before tucking his middle and ring finger back down. “When you see this, know that I love you.”

You raised your own hand and watched his tremble as you admitted what had been growing with each passing day since that first walk in the gardens. I love you.

Click here for part two.

Addicted to You

Part 1: The Chain

Summary/Author’s Note: As the sister of veteran turned freelance for hire Santiago “Pope” Garcia, you grew up close to his friends and ex-military squad. Frankie Morales always had your heart, in the same way you always had his–the two of you just never seemed to get the timing right. Trying to escape the violence of a military career based family, you turned to journalism and humanitarian work in war torn countries. But three days ago your crew was ambushed and after three days without any contact, Pope is getting the guys back together for a rescue mission. (Follows Canon events very closely with added character and liberties) Thank you to @winters-buck for headcanoning with me about Frankie and getting me pumped up enough to write this.

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Pope’s sister!Reader Word Count: 4.6k (idk what happened…) Warnings/rating: (NC-17)/18+ Language, smoking, implied drug use, PTSD, sex/smut, kidnapping, blood, violence, threats, fluff and feelings

MASTERLIST

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tequila [billy head canon]

I’ve never written a headcanon before. My beautiful and loving wife @stevesharrlngtons encouraged me to try it and, like the good spouse I am, I take her advice.

Billy was an experienced drinker.

He couldn’t even remember the first time he had a sip of alcohol.

It was just always around from the time he was small.

Strangely enough, even with his Dad being the strict asshole he was, Billy always got away with drinking underage.

So when you two would party together, he crushed three beers for every one cooler you sipped on.

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if you'd taken an arrow (and run it right through me)

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: five times you and Eddie pretended not to know each other + one time you didn’t.

“Isn’t that that cheerleader?” Mike asked, his voice the picture of innocence as he pointed you out, eyes trained on Eddie’s face. Dustin narrowed his eyes as Eddie made a big show of trying to follow Mike’s finger.

“I dunno, man,” Eddie said, scratching the back of his neck. “They all look like cheerleaders to me.”

warnings: cheerleading injury, underaged drinking, mentions of smut

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Series Masterlist

Ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa presents–

Paring: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader (Alpha/Omega/Soulmates AU) Word Count (WIP): 86,435 Rating: NC-17/Explicit/18+

Everyone loves the Alpha and Omega Fated Mates for Life troupe so, what if The Mandalorians were a society of Alphas, a dying race because your sisterhood of Omegas are becoming more and more rare by the day? You and Din were mated before you were born, your futures written in the stars–and that pissed you off, both of you. At least in the beginning. (Canon Compliant)

(This is my spite fic to prove ABO can be non-toxic–it updates on Sundays! **means smut)

Chapter 1: Kismet Chapter 2: Fire Meet Gasoline Chapter 3: Desolate Chapter 4: The Cloak Chapter 5: Not a Signet But a Scar Chapter 6: Arvala-7 Chapter 7: A Tiny Green Bounty Chapter 8: One Thing at a Time Chapter 9: A Rational Place to Start Chapter 10: Secretly Charming** Chapter 11: A Prize to Be Won** Chapter 12: This is the Way  Chapter 13: Doing What’s Right Chapter 14: Center of Attention** Chapter 15: Round One Chapter 16: Basic Humanity  Chapter 17: Familiar** Chapter 18: The Fox** Chapter 19: Unstoppable Meet Immovable**  Chapter 20: Not Like This**

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@thewayofthemandalorian

Gold Rush -> Maxwell Lord is broke after revoking his wish. No longer able to afford his current lifestyle, he has no choice but to move into an apartment complex. You’re his neighbour and at first want nothing to do with him given everything that happened with him. But as you get to know him and his son, you begin to see the real Maxwell.

@mandoalorian

I Believe in Love -> When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either.

Ok but the cracking the headboard? He growls- Frankie most definitely growls and snarls when he comes and breaks the damn thing. Ok now I’m done.

warnings: SMUT - rough sex

a/n: this is short but i think it makes the point its supposed to make lol. i’m supposed to be working on the stuff that has been sitting in my inbox forever but y’all got me hooked on this idea so i gotta get it out.

Frankie’s body is slick against yours, a thin sheen of sweat covering you both as he takes you hard and without any kind of rhythm. His hair hangs in his face as he bares his teeth down at you, grunting with his thrusts. Your nails scratch down his back and he hisses in slight pain but doesn’t stop.

You told him you needed this so he is giving it to you. You can tell he needs this too. He needs to let go. Of course, he tells you to tell him if it gets to be too much, but with him it’s never too much. It’s just enough and it leaves you wanting more.

He looks down, grinning at the dogtags laying between your breasts. They make a small clinking sound every time your body moves when he thrusts into you and he loves that. He touches them gently before bringing his hand back up to the headboard that he is using to pull himself into you harder. It creaks precariously but you don’t hear it. All you can focus on is Frankie inside of you and the lovely sounds he’s making. He lowers himself just enough to kiss you. Before he pulls away though you bite down on his lip and he moans in surprise. You bring your hands up and push his hair out of his face. He is so lovely like this--face flushed, sweat on his brow, eyes hooded with lust and love.

“Harder,” you whisper and he looks at you as if to ask silently ‘are you sure?’ “Please...”

This time you hear the headboard creak as he tightens his grip on it to give you what you want. You touch yourself as he pounds into your relentlessly while looking for any sign that you may want him to stop. But you don’t want him to stop. You want him to fuck you and fuck you and fuck you until he can’t anymore.

The sound of his hips slapping against your skin is like music to your ears and you’re lost in it. You look down to watch him move in and out of you as you touch yourself and it’s just enough to push you over the edge. You cum around him, your toes curling as you throw your head back and cry out his name.

He’s certainly not holding back now. You feel too good--so tight around him, squeezing him, urging him to give you his all. And he does. He clinches his jaw and growls as he cums, holding onto the headboard with a grip that makes a cracking sound that has you both stilling and looking up. There it is. A nice long crack right down the middle of your somewhat new headboard.

“Oh, fuck...” Frankie breathes before looking down at you and smiling. You snort before bursting into full on laughter. He lowers himself over you and hides his face against your breasts, laughing while trying to catch his breath. “Well, you asked for rough,” he teases.

“You broke the headboard,” you say in disbelief. “That’s pretty hot actually.”

“What?” he chuckles.

“Those strong, sexy hands basically broke something in two. Hot.”

He lifts his head and smiles at you, pushing his hair out of his face again. “Guess I don’t know my own strength.”

“We’ll get a new one,” you say as he rolls off of you.

“You okay?” he asks, rubbing your thighs. “I didn’t...damage you, did I?”

You giggle. “No. But if you wanna try to break me in two...”

He looks at you in shock. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”

“Hmm...my boyfriend.”

“Christ...” He sits up and touches the crack in the headboard. “We have to make sure we pick a sturdier one.”

“Oh, I don’t know, you might break that one too,” you joke and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Hell no.” You laugh as he moves closer and kisses you. He plays with the dogtags hanging around your neck.

“I love when you wear these,” he says. “The way they look on your bare skin just...” He bites his lip.

“Are you joining me for a shower?” you ask.

“Yup. Right after we break the headboard just a little more.” He looks at you and you look down.

“Already?”

“It’s you...something about you and the fucking dogtags...” His words trail off but you push him onto his back gently and get on top of him.

“My turn. Let’s see what I can do.” You hold onto the headboard, leaning over Frankie slightly and the dogtags swing freely between you two. His hands find your hips and help you onto him.

“Yes, ma’am.”

A Din Djarin x Reader Romance & Adventure Story

Story Summary: In pursuit of the Child’s people, the mysterious Jedi, Din Djarin and his foundling find hope in a woman who shares the kid’s strange powers. Newly partnered with the Mandalorian, you are trained in the ways of the Force, but you’re no Jedi. You’re just trying to find your place in the galaxy.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (fem; no y/n)

… . …

    Chapter One: Convergence | 4.0k | T

    Chapter Two: Interference | 4.6k | T

    Chapter Three: Confidence | 5.8k | T

    Chapter Four: Disruption | 5.5k | T

    Chapter Five: Connection | 5.8k | T

    Chapter Six: Divination | 4.8k | T

    Chapter Seven: Hostility | 7.9k | T

    Chapter Eight: Security | 7.9k | T

    Chapter Nine: Curiosity | 8.5k | M

    Chapter Ten: Transient | 6.5k | T

    Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment | 5.5 | M

   Chapter Twelve | Coming Soon

… . …

These are links to a couple of beautiful TLOS-inspired moodboards made by my equally beautiful friends. Julia and Leo, thank you forever!

Moodboard by @huliabitch

Moodboard by @leo-moon

“The Weapon of the Jedi Knights” Artwork​ by @hokudraws​

… . …

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The Mandalorian: “We Have a Deal”

In Fields of White ~ Chapter One ~ “We Have a Deal”

masterlist / next chapter

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x f!reader

warnings: rated T for violence; reference to mild injuries; death; mild swearing; mentions of hunger

word count: 4.1k

summary: fleeing from the life you wish more than anything to forget, you are left to navigate the galaxy alone as a wide-eyed wanderer. in the process of evading the dangers linked to your previous life, your destiny is forever altered when you cross paths with an intimidating mandalorian and his unusually gifted child.

a/n: first, i must thank my amazing beta readers @sana-katarn @disneyjedi19 @barrissoffee77 for their fantastic feedback and for cheering me on throughout this whole process. secondly, i must thank @kaminobiwan @royalhandmaidens @fancycheesebread @arda-ancalima @babyomen  @highlycommendable​ for their kind comments and enthusiasm towards this story. i can’t thank you all enough. i can’t even put into words just how much it means to me. i love you all very much, and i am so excited to begin the adventure that is in fields of white. 

also found on: Ao3

In Fields of White

Chapter One: “We Have a Deal”

Reflecting upon the events of your life, you decide you must be either the luckiest or most cursed person in the galaxy.

Current events have you leaning towards the latter.

Keep reading