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helloalycia · 4 years ago

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secret relationship // wanda maximoff

summary: you're the daughter of the famous Black Widow, which comes with its own set of hurdles such as revealing to her that you're dating the newest Avenger that she also happens to be mentoring – Wanda Maximoff. What could go wrong?

warning/s: minor (implied) violence and injury

author's note: okay so the request was the reader is Natasha's daughter and is struggling to tell Natasha that she's dating Wanda. All I know is I got excited (as usual) and this happened so yeah, enjoy! Also, Wanda’s age is always a mystery to me since it’s interpreted differently with everyone, so I tried my best to explain the age gap between you and natasha so things made sense.

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"Did you know red onion and red cabbage is called 'red' instead of 'purple' because back in the old days, they didn't have enough words for colours so anything purple was defined as red?"

"The mission, Y/N," my mum, Natasha Romanoff, AKA Black Widow, scolded.

I sighed, my attention still focused on my surroundings and my gun directed ahead. "I know, I know. But did you know that the most common internet password is '123456'?"

"Y/N," Wanda, my girlfriend and teammate said with a laugh. "Stop it."

"Yeah, please, quit it," my mum added with an eye roll.

I smiled at Wanda, admiring how beautiful she looked when she hid her laugh. My mum wasn't aware we were dating, so I settled for sending her a playful wink before looking ahead.

I knew I had to focus on the mission – scouting out this abandoned HYDRA den – but it was boring. And it was obviously empty of any threats, so talking was my only pastime.

"Did you know the inventor of Pringles is buried in a Pringles can?" I said after a moment of silence, making my mum stop walking abruptly.

"Okay, you know what? New plan," she said, looking between Wanda and I. "Everyone split up. Take a look around. Stay alert. Keep in contact. Sound good?"

I quirked a brow. "You trying to get rid of me?"

She narrowed her eyes my way. "Yes."

I frowned, making Wanda crack a smile and nudge me in the shoulder.

"You need to learn to have an off button sometimes," she joked, her Sokovian accent shining through despite the voice lessons my mum was giving her. Honestly, I preferred her Sokovian accent to her American one.

"You love it," I teased, giving her a knowing smile, my mother completely unaware of the double meaning.

"Just do as I said," my mum said, already shooing me away. "Wanda, you know what to do. If you see or hear anything suspicious, use your comms."

"Yes, Miss Romanoff," Wanda said obediently, and I tried so hard to hold in laughter at her seriousness. I mean, it was great that she was respectful of my mother and her mentor, but God it was funny to witness.

"Once again, Wanda, you can just call me Nat," my mum said with a wince, trying to be polite. "Go on."

Wanda nodded and walked off, her gun raised as she'd practiced. I grinned at my mum, noticing the way she massaged her temple with mild agitation before her gaze fell to mine.

"Go. Now." She pointed behind me, and I stifled a laugh.

"Bet you love babysitting duty," I joked.

"It's not babysitting if I'm your mother," she pointed out. "Though sometimes, you make me regret not picking the baby instead of you."

"That baby would have been six years old now," I informed her. "If anything, I spared you the whole diaper thing and the outgrowing clothes thing and the– oh yeah! Not being able to speak thing!"

"At least they wouldn't be annoying me with stupid facts," she retorted, hand on her hip. "Now be a good agent and do your job."

I rolled my eyes playfully, knowing she was kidding. Whenever I annoyed her, she'd bring up the story of how it was between twelve year old me and a six-month old baby at the adoption centre. She was worried I'd view her as an older sister or something, hence her choice of adopting the baby instead. But I never did, as she was always way more mature than any twenty-seven year old I'd met or seen at the time. And maybe, I guess, I was really desperate to have a motherly figure, and she just happened to fit the bill.

"Aye, aye, Miss Romanoff," I saluted, making her raise an eyebrow threateningly. "Okay, geez, I'm going."

I wandered off, exploring the dishevelled HYDRA den with full focus. The brief clearly stated it was an abandoned site, but I stayed on alert anyway in case there were stragglers. As usual, I only got given half the facts because of my clearance level, so I knew we were looking for a hard drive, but I had no idea what was on it.

Being a seventeen year old working in S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't exactly how I saw my life going when I grew up in an orphanage. I honestly never thought I'd get adopted, as rumours spread quite quickly through the orphanage that once you hit double digits, nobody wanted you. So, when the beautiful, red-headed Natasha Romanoff came in, looking for an addition to her family, I felt like the luckiest kid in the world because she chose me of all the kids there.

I definitely didn't expect her to be the Black Widow, nor to teach me everything she knew about espionage, stealth, hand-to-hand combat and much more. She ensured I was multi-lingual like her, preparing me for the many S.H.I.E.L.D. missions I would have to go on. There were times when I absolutely despised her, particularly when she overtrained me or stopped me from seeing my friends. And there were times when I wished she'd never adopted me, hating that I couldn't have a normal teenage experience.

But when it came down to it, I knew I couldn't have asked for a more caring, considerate and compassionate mother. I learnt early on into our relationship that she was unable to have kids of her own, hence her interest in adoption. And honestly speaking? That was probably the worst thing in the world because if anybody deserved a child of their own, it was Natasha Romanoff. I guess, in that sense, I was lucky to have all of her love to myself.

Now that I was older, I came to appreciate how awesome she was, especially when we got to go on missions together and I saw her awesomeness upfront. The only thing was, she was extremely overprotective, so it was difficult to get sent on the dangerous missions. Though, I guess, whenever I did, she was always there to have my back and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Her overprotectiveness was also a reason why she didn't know about Wanda and I's relationship. Wanda had joined the Avengers a year ago after losing her brother in the battle against Ultron. She was a year older than me, so naturally we were drawn to each other, and before I knew it, our friendship became more. But of course, my mother could never know that. At least not yet.

"Empty here," I mumbled, rounding a corner into an empty room. As I looked through the rubbish on the desk, I continued, "Empty here... and here... and oh, look, here, too. What a surprise!"

"Y/N, I love you, but God help me I will kill you if you don't turn your damn mic off," my mother's voice came through my comms piece in my ear.

For once, I wasn't trying to piss her off, so I smiled sheepishly to myself and replied, "Sorry. Love you."

I could imagine the eye roll she was giving me in response, so continued to look around for the hard drive I saw on the brief. Still, there was nothing here.

My searching was interrupted when I heard a loud crash from a nearby room, like the sound of bricks tumbling against one another. I spun around, eyes widening with concern.

"Y/N? Wanda? What happened?" my mum's voice came through my ear, slightly reassuring me as it wasn't her who was caught up in anything. But then that meant–

"Wanda! What happened?" I replied worriedly, already rushing out of the room and to the source of the sound.

"I'm okay," Wanda's shaky voice came through my ear, which did nothing to ease my concern.

I found the room Wanda was in quite quickly, seeing her sat on the floor as if she'd been pushed. She had a deep cut on her forehead and looked visibly distressed. Running to her side, I kneeled down beside her and cupped her face, studying her head.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" The words tumbled from my mouth so quickly I wasn't sure if it was understandable.

She nodded slowly, accepting my hand and holding it for reassurance. I followed her gaze, seeing a hole in the wall ahead, bricks crumbling and dust beginning to settle. Laying on the floor through the hole and into the next room was a HYDRA soldier, clearly dead from the impact of hitting the bricks.

Wanda's power was magnificent, but hard to control. A year later and she was still learning its limits, but sometimes slip-ups like this happened. I was, admittedly, in awe of her actions.

"I'm sorry, I should have kept him alive like Miss Ro– Nat said," Wanda apologised suddenly, and I looked back at her to see her shaking her head. "He just– he startled me and I didn't know what I was doing until it happened. I thought–"

"Don't apologise," I cut her off, squeezing her hand gently, before looking back to the cut on her forehead. "I'm just glad you're okay. You did good."

Despite my words, I bit my lower lip to contain a frown, worried about her cut.

"Damn."

Wanda and I both turned to the doorway to see my mum, who stopped and took in the sight of the hole in the wall with partial surprise and partial amazement.

"Mum, we need to get her back to the quinjet," I said, pulling her attention away from the wall. She approached me as I said, "She needs medical assistance."

I didn't let go of Wanda's hand as I moved to the side for my mum to take a look. Gently guiding Wanda's chin to the side, she took a closer look at the gash on her forehead, expression showing nothing as usual.

"You'll be okay, honey," she reassured, letting go. Her eyes drifted to our connected hands briefly, but I figured she wouldn't piece anything together, so I didn't let go. She continued, "Let's get out of here. There's no hard drive anyway."

Wanda nodded and my mum and I helped her to stand up, me still not letting go of her hand.

"The hard drive is on him," Wanda spoke suddenly, nodding to the dead HYDRA agent. "I heard his thoughts before I– yeah."

My mum raised her brows with surprise. "Oh. Perfect. Y/N get the drive and let's go."

I pursed my lips, glancing at Wanda with concerned eyes. She gave me a small, reassuring smile, squeezing my hand subtly before letting go.

"Right, yeah," I said, swallowing hard.

I looked back to my mum, who seemed to be studying my expression, so I cleared my throat and left to get the drive. When I retrieved it, I jogged after Wanda and my mum, checking in on her with a small smile, before leading the way to the quinjet.

When we boarded the plane, I hung around Wanda and my mum as she helped the brunette to take a seat in the back. I noticed Wanda's momentary dizziness as she sat down and felt my chest tighten.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, kneeling before her as my mum got the first aid kit.

Wanda gave me an endearing smile as I swiped at the blood dripping down her forehead.

"I'll be alright," she said, holding my gaze with comforting green eyes before they flickered to behind me.

"Okay, Y/N, stop hanging about and start the plane whilst I stitch Wanda up," my mum said, appearing from behind me and kneeling beside me.

I nodded, glancing between the needle, thread and disinfectant in her hands and Wanda's head. Reluctantly, I got up and left them both to it as I started up the plane and got us in the air. Once we were in the clear, I flicked on autopilot before heading back to Wanda and my mum to see how things were going.

"We'll have someone look at it properly when we get back to the tower," my mum was saying to Wanda, who was now stitched up and wearing a small bandage, "but it'll hold up for now." With a playful smile, she added, "You're not dying on me just yet."

Wanda cracked a smile and whilst I appreciated how lovely it was to see their closeness in a way I never usually saw, I was still troubled by her injury. Logically, I knew she'd be okay, but it never felt good to see her injured.

"Plane is on autopilot," I announced, making my presence known. My eyes never left Wanda's bandage as I asked, "Everything okay here?"

"You need to calm down," my mum joked, making me look her way. "It's not that serious. Just some stitches."

I smiled awkwardly, but I knew it was much more than that.

"Yeah, relax, it's not a big deal," Wanda added playfully.

Her eyes met mine and I knew she was communicating the same thing through her gaze, holding a seriousness that wasn't able to be shared verbally because of my mum's presence. I tilted my head, giving her a knowing look; she knew I was aware of how big a deal it was. All I wanted to do was give her a hug and kiss and not leave her side until she felt better. And she knew that.

"I'm gonna go fly the plane," my mum said suddenly, and I almost forgot she was standing there until she spoke up. "We'll get back to base quicker..."

I glanced at her, mildly confused at her sudden change of expression. She headed to the front of the quinjet, leaving Wanda and I alone.

"Seriously though, you should relax," Wanda said, sounding like she did when it was just her and I and nobody else. She had an amused smile on her lips as she watched me worry. "I'm fine. All stitched up."

I licked my lips, sulking, as I dragged myself over to the seat beside her. She laced our fingers together, pressing a kiss to the top of my hand before facing me with an easygoing smile.

"I'm fine," she repeated gently, lovingly, sweetly.

I offered her a small smile, before leaning forward to press a kiss to her bandage. "I know. Just don't worry me like that. Especially in front of my mum. I can't take it."

"It's cute," she noted, amusement returning. "It means a lot to know someone cares."

My shoulders relaxed. "I care too much. So, please don't test that."

She laughed and I felt my heart flutter in my chest, never getting used to the sound.

"I promise not to," she said, looking up at me through her lashes.

I leaned my head on her shoulder and kept ahold of her hand, staying with her until we arrived back at base. My mum flew us the whole way back, only coming to get us once we landed. I knew I should have left Wanda's side as to not raise suspicion with my mum, but I couldn't find it in myself to do so. I just hoped she would interpret it as two concerned friends rather than her daughter having a secret girlfriend.

"You should head to the medical wing to get checked out properly," my mum said once we were back at the tower, looking to Wanda.

"Yeah," I agreed a little too eagerly. "I'll go with you."

My mum gave me a curious look. "I mean, that's not necessary."

Wanda must have sensed my eagerness, as she said, "I'd appreciate the company, actually. I don't mind."

She shot me a subtle smile, eyes bright with reassurance.

"I'm happy to accompany you, Wanda," my mum offered, and I felt my mouth go dry.

"It's okay, mum," I said suddenly, making her look to me with pursed lips. "You can go debrief and I'll make sure Wanda is cool with everything."

Glancing between us, my mum finally nodded. "I see. I guess I'll see you both later then." She paused, looking between us once more, before adding, "You did good today. Both of you."

I looked down to my shoes as Wanda shot her a grateful smile. She walked away, leaving us be, and I immediately intertwined my fingers with Wanda's as the two of us headed to the medical wing.

"You may as well write desperate on your forehead," she teased with a beautiful smile.

"So funny," I said sarcastically, though a smile of my own was present. "Let's just get you checked out."

"If it means you'll stop pouting, then sure."

"Real jokester you are. Hilarious, honestly."

Her laughter surrounded me like a warm hug and I could have listened to it forever.

—

Since our mission together, I noticed the distance my mum was putting between her and I, and I had no idea why. I thought I was overthinking it and seeing things that weren't there, so I didn't follow up with it until one evening.

It was a rare occurrence for all of the Avengers to be at the tower at once, so when they were, we'd all have a 'family' dinner for some normalcy. Only, this time, I noticed how strange my mum was acting whenever I spoke to her. She'd either act super dismissive or give one word answers to my questions – once again, I wasn't sure if I was seeing things.

After dinner, everyone went their separate ways and Wanda and I stayed in the living-area to watch some TV. Though it was playing, the volume was lowered and neither of us were watching it. We were just talking about random stuff and enjoying each other's company.

"Okay, how about this one?" I said to Wanda, turning so I was facing her, a grin on my lips. "What did the clock do when it was hungry?"

As with all of my other attempts at making Wanda laugh, she stared at me with an amused smile and a quirked brow.

"Say it...," I encouraged, motioning for her to speak with my hand.

She sighed. "Okay, what did the clock do when it was hungry?" Mumbling, she added, "Even though clocks don't eat..."

I slapped her leg playfully. "Sshhh, you'll ruin the joke. And the answer is, they go back four seconds!"

Wanda didn't laugh, but she seemed entertained as she hid a smile. "Seriously?"

"Because of the number 'four' and the word 'for'," I explained. "C'mon, that's a good one!"

"D'you think you're funny?" she asked, eyeing me playfully. "Because you're not."

I shrugged, playing it off like I wasn't fussed. "I mean, I don't know about that... how about now?"

Before she could question me, I moved forward and began to tickle her sides, watching as she squirmed with laughter.

"Stop it!" she shouted, but her smile was as wide as ever as she was unable to stifle her laughter. "P-please! Y/N!"

"But you said I wasn't funny!" I retorted with a grin, practically straddling her as she attempted to push me off her. "I'm just checking if you still think that!"

Wanda was crying now, tears escaping the corners of her eyes as she continued to laugh. "I'm s-sorry! Y/N, stop!"

Before I could think how to respond, the doors to the living-area opened and in walked Steve Rogers AKA Captain America, a confused expression on his face as he saw me sat on Wanda.

"Hey, ladies," he greeted, raising an eyebrow. "You both good?"

I pulled my hands away from Wanda and breathed out, still smiling as I glanced down at her. She blew a strand of hair from her eyes and glared at me playfully.

"Yeah, just talking," I answered Steve, before being thrown off Wanda and to the floor with a thud.

"Just Y/N harassing me as usual," Wanda corrected, and I sat up to see her sitting up, too, fixing her hair.

Steve chuckled as he headed to the fridge in the connected kitchen. Wanda helped me back onto the couch, nudging me in the side as a response to the tickle fest, before leaning on me and stretching her legs across the couch.

"So, hey, what's up with you and your mum?" Steve asked as I continued to annoy Wanda by flicking her face.

"What do you mean?" I asked, not looking up as I grinned down at Wanda, watching as her eyes glowed red threateningly.

"Don't make me hurt you," she said teasingly, lifting a hand and summoning her powers, red wisps of energy becoming present.

I stopped flicking her and intertwined her hand in mine, watching as her eyes faded to its usual colour.

"She just seemed distant at dinner," Steve continued.

I looked up and saw he was leaning against the counter with a water bottle in his hand. Wanda continued to stretch, practically on top of me, probably to annoy me as I had been doing with her. I moved her hands out of my face as I nodded to Steve.

"So, you saw it too? She was being off, right?" I asked him, glad I wasn't just imagining things.

He nodded, gulping his water, before saying casually, "Definitely. What did you do? Finally tell her about you and Wanda?"

It took me a second to realise what he'd said, but when I did, my eyes widened and I spluttered out a terrible response. "What– what about Wanda and I?"

I glanced at Wanda as she began to sit up properly. She looked more confused than panicked.

"You know, that you're together," Steve said like it was obvious.

I cleared my throat. "What? Why would you think that?"

Steve smiled with confusion. "Wait, so you're not? But I thought–" He paused, pulling a face. "No, you are! Everybody thinks you are!"

I shrugged it off, though inside I was panicking. "I mean, even if that was the case, why do you think my mum knows?"

Steve nodded knowingly. "She's been off with you all night. And then I caught up with her after dinner and she wasn't in a very talkative mood. Just mumbled something like 'new girl, her age, pretty, nice, should have seen it coming'. I assumed she was talking about Wanda."

Heat crept up my neck with embarrassment and when I looked to Wanda, I saw her cheeks dusting a red colour, similar to the energy she could summon. She looked as flustered as I felt.

"Has your mum been okay with you before today?" Steve asked, trying to be helpful.

I chewed on my lower lip and shook my head. "Not since we got back from our last mission..."

Steve scrunched his face with sympathy. "Oof. You should probably talk to her then. You know how much she hates secrets."

I groaned internally. "Thanks for the reminder."

He saluted playfully, his stupid smile on his stupid face, before leaving Wanda and I alone again.

"Well, looks like she knows," I said to Wanda, sinking into the couch with hopes it would swallow me forever.

"She might not," Wanda tried to make me feel better, resting a hand on my leg. "It could be something else."

I gave her a knowing look. "She has to know. It's the only thing that makes sense. You heard Steve."

Wanda sighed, sinking into the couch beside me. "Yeah..." She glanced at me and I looked at her as she said, "I did tell you to tell her."

I forced a smile. "Gee, Wanda, that was helpful. Thanks."

Wanda rolled her eyes before leaning her head on my shoulder. "Sorry..."

I rested my hand on hers. "It's okay, sorry. I just– she's gonna be really mad that I kept this from her."

"Yeah, why did you do that again?" Wanda asked questioningly.

I massaged the tension between my eyebrows. "Because she's too overprotective. It gets too much to handle sometimes... Take my last boyfriend for example. He was some tool that cheated on me and, oh boy, my mum wanted to kill him. I had to physically restrain her from doing so."

"I don't blame her," Wanda quipped, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

I smiled a little, squeezing her hand. "I know... she ended up slashing his tyres and egging his car without telling me. But instead of egging the outside, she broke into it and egged the inside. A thoughtful take on a classic, I must admit."

Wanda laughed, her whole body shaking with pure amusement as she listened to the story. I couldn't help but smile myself, remembering it like it was yesterday. Definitely a fun time.

"I appreciated it, don't get me wrong," I added, smile fading. "I just didn't want that to happen again. I wanted to enjoy our relationship without anyone spying on us, y'know? But now she's gonna be super angry."

Wanda let go of my hand and rolled on top of me, leaning down on my chest so she could look me in the eyes. I wrapped my arms loosely around her to keep her steady.

"She only wants the best for you," Wanda told me gently. "You have to tell her you're sorry. Explain why you did what you did, but hear her out, too. She's your mum. Caring too much isn't a bad thing."

I groaned, knowing she was right. She smiled reassuringly, patting my chest.

"You get the caring too much thing from her by the way," she added, before leaning forward and pressing a haste kiss to my lips. "It's okay though because I love it."

I smiled, never really seeing it like that. Raising my hand, I brushed my thumb over the small bandage on her head; her injury was still healing, but she didn't let it bother her. Very Wanda-like.

"Thanks," I mumbled, meeting her gaze. "You always say the right thing."

"Which is why I'm going to tell you to get up and go to your mum," she ordered playfully, pushing herself off me and holding out her hand.

I let her pull me up before straightening up and taking a deep breath. Wanda was right. I just needed to be open and explain my piece. It would be fine.

—

So, it wasn't fine.

When I entered my mum's living quarters, she wasn't the happiest to see me. In fact, she actively turned her body to face her TV when I came through the door.

"Hey," I started with a small smile, fighting the nerves in my stomach. "Can we, er, can we talk?"

She grabbed the cushion on the couch next to her, hugging it to her chest. Her eyes didn't leave the TV, but the space next to her was free, so I took that as an opportunity to close the door and sit beside her.

The news was playing on the TV – headlines, I think – and they were talking about a new elected congressman in New York.

"Seriously? The news? Even in your free time?" I asked playfully, hoping it would lighten the mood.

She didn't even glance my way as she muttered, "I like to know what's happening in the world."

Losing my smile, I straightened up and cleared my throat. "Right, right..."

It went quiet as the TV played in the background and my mum said absolutely nothing. I grabbed the other cushion on the couch and hugged it to my chest, similar to her. It was a nervous habit that I picked up from, well, from her.

"You said you wanted to talk?" she reminded me. "So, talk."

Having the Black Widow as your mother wasn't something anyone could get used to. She could be the most caring, loving, protective person in the world, but she could also appear quiet, intimidating and ruthless like the trained assassin she was. Not the greatest combination when trying to open up to her.

"I think I know what you're thinking," I started, pinching my hand to distract from my growing anxiety.

Without hesitation, she bent forward to grab the TV remote and turned it off before turning to me with sad eyes.

"That's where you're wrong," she said calmly, and it was way worse than her yelling. I would have preferred her yelling to be honest. The disappointment in her voice was much worse. "You always assume you know what I'm thinking. What I'm going to say or do."

I avoided her eyes guiltily. "Mum, look, I know that I should have told you the truth. And I know how angry you are, but–"

"I'm not angry, Y/N!" she shouted, finally, standing up off the couch and creating space between us.

I winced. "You sound angry."

She put her hands on her hips, looking down to her feet and taking a breath. Her voice at normal volume, she said, "I'm upset. You– you didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth. Instead, I had to put it together when you acted how you did with Wanda after that mission and..." She paused, sighing. "Forget it."

"No, keep going," I pleaded, the guilt piercing through me sharply. "You're right."

She swallowed hard, glancing at me with glassy eyes. "I wouldn't have done anything. I know I have in the past, but this is Wanda we're talking about. I've been her mentor for a year. I care about her and– and– she's good. And she's good for you."

Okay, I definitely misread this whole thing because now my mum was upset, on the verge of tears, and I was the arsehole responsible for it.

"I'm so sorry," I said, standing up and moving forward to hold her arms. "I should have trusted you. I mean, it wasn't even about trust. I was just scared you'd react badly. But it wrong of me to assume that."

She frowned, looking down to her shoes. "I know I can be tough sometimes, but it's only because I care."

I thought back to Wanda's words and gave her a small smile. "I know. I get it from you."

"I am happy for you, you know," she said, glancing at me petulantly.

My expression softened. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

Without another word, she pulled me in for a motherly hug, making me close my eyes and relax in her arms. I still felt horrible for making her feel like I couldn't trust her when it was anything but that.

"I'm sorry," I repeated quietly into her shoulder.

"I forgive you," she said, before pulling away and giving me a small smile. "Now tell me. You're happy?"

The thought of being with Wanda gave me butterflies and I couldn't help but smile in response. With a nod, I said, "I am."

She nodded, squeezing my shoulders gently before fully letting go. "Good. I'm glad you've got her... I know you can take care of yourself, but she's strong, too. She can look out for you when I'm not around anymore."

I shoved her in the shoulder. "Don't joke about that. She isn't replacing you and you're not going anywhere, you hear me?"

She laughed, nodding. "Not yet anyway. But sure, okay."

I relaxed and gave her a nervous smile. "So, you wanna meet Wanda? Like, as my girlfriend and not your student?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "If I must."

I smiled widely, grabbing her hand and leading her to the door. "She loves you a lot, y'know. She wanted me to tell you about us as soon as we got together. She hated lying to you."

"Yeah because she knows that lying is wrong," she teased me, making me groan loudly. With a chuckle, she added, "I love her, too. She's definitely something."

"Hell yeah she is," I said in agreement, grinning to my mum as I dragged her to the living-area where I last left Wanda.

On the way, we passed Steve in the hall, who took notice of the smiles on our faces and nodded knowingly.

"Glad to see you worked it out," he said supportively.

"Thanks for the heads up," I told him gratefully as we passed him.

When we reached the living-area, I saw Wanda sat on the couch watching TV. When she saw who entered, she straightened up instantly, moving to stand and unsure what else to say or do. It was cute, the respect she had for my mum.

"Did you– I– She told you?" she stumbled over her words, starting to speak to me but eventually looking to my mum.

My mum glanced at me before meeting Wanda's nervous eyes. "She did."

Wanda licked her lips anxiously. "And you're okay with it...? Angry...? Wanna kill me...?"

I watched my mum, nodding encouragingly to her. She sighed before giving Wanda a small smile.

"No killing will be necessary," she reassured my girlfriend. "Unless, of course, you break my daughter's heart. Then in which case, I may have to find you when you're sleeping."

"Mum!" I complained, face falling into my hands with embarrassment.

"I'm just being truthful," my mum said with seriousness, before looking to Wanda expectantly.

Wanda surprisingly took it well, probably used to my mum's personality after training with her for a year. "I understand completely, Nat and I'll hold you to that. I have no intention of breaking Y/N's heart."

A rare, genuine smile appeared on my mother's lips. "I know you don't. Just–" She paused, glancing at me. "Keep her safe, yeah? She's a bit stupid sometimes."

Wanda laughed as my mum smiled with amusement, like it was an inside joke.

"Right here, you know," I reminded them with a wave of my hand.

They only rolled their eyes.

"I will," Wanda promised my mum. "Thank you for being okay with this."

My mum nodded, giving us both a final smile and once over, before saying, "I'll leave you to it. Goodnight."

Wanda and I bid our goodnights, watching her leave before a giant sigh of relief escaped our lips.

"You feel better?" Wanda asked me, grabbing my hand and tugging me to the couch.

She let me fall on her chest easily, snuggling up to her as she wrapped an arm around me and held me close. I inhaled her perfume, a familiar and comforting scent, as my head rested in the crook of her neck.

"I feel better," I answered, closing my eyes and letting her intertwine our fingers.

"I believe this is the part where you say I was right," she prompted, a hint of amusement in her words.

"Don't make me hurt you," I mumbled, making her laugh quietly beneath me.

"You're lucky I love you," she said, kissing the top of my head. "I guess opposites do attract. You're the stupid one and I'm the clever one."

"Wanda?"

"Yeah?"

"Fuck off."

She laughed again, and even though it was at me, I couldn't help the content smile from spreading on my lips.

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #marvel #mcu #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen

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acourtofsnakes · 4 years ago

Text

Mesh’la - Rogue, Chapter 18| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

(I know the gif is Javi, but there aren’t exactly many Mando gifs that would fit this chapter.. I’ve also had this for a while so let me know if its yours and i’ll tag you♥︎)

Summary: After Din’s revelation, walls that have been crumbling for a while, finally break.

Warnings: 18+ Swearing, smut, cunnilingus/fingering(f receiving),unprotected sex, p in v sex, flufffffffff finally. Let me know if I forgot anything!

AN: I have nothing to say but… enjoy.

Word count: 7.6k +

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jackgrzs @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy @goldielocks2004 @seninjakitey @what-iwish-you-knew @queenofthefaceless @rosiefridayrogersunday @greeneyedblondie44 @itsnottilly @welcometothepedroverse @xgoldenjenny @heyitsjaybird @mamacitapascal

Mando’a Translation: Mesh'la - beautiful

“I love you.”

Those three little words echoed around your mind, bouncing around the walls of your conscious and then travelling down to your heart where they curled up there, settled into the space that had been carved out for Din, long before you met him.

“You…” Your voice broke a little, so you cleared your throat and tried again, talking over the splash of the water that was no doubt going to turn cold any moment. “You love me…?”

Din was breathing heavily, the wet fabric of his clothes pulling over his chest and he nodded. “Yes. I love you.” His voice was still soft, but imploring you to understand him, to listen and stop saying such things about yourself. “I… I’ve loved you for a long time, sweetheart.”

Well.

His words rendered you… sort of speechless for a moment.

He loved you.

Din had loved you for “a long time”.

Just as you had loved him.

You blinked up at him, water rolling down your hair, making beads over your skin as steam floated about the small space. It probably wasn’t doing his helmet any good, but there was no way either of you could leave this moment. “I… I had no idea...”

Din laughed, it wasn’t cruel, it was more a sort of exhausted laugh, yet there was a level of love in it, “I know… You’re the most intelligent person I know, and you could talk your way out of anything... but when it comes to noticing what’s right in front of you…” His voice was a little teasing, “You are a little blind, princess.”

Despite the revelations and the shock – and elation - screaming through you, you did have to pout. “You can’t blame me… How was I supposed to know?”

Din leant against the wall, “Well, I know this…” He tapped his helmet, “Makes things a little difficult but…” He huffed a little, “I didn’t really know it myself at first. It wasn’t until people started to mention it… I realised that everything I’d been feeling...” Din seemed to stumble a little over his words again. “For weeks… I… I’ve just... needed to be close to you. After I sent you to Nevarro, I met Haran for the first time on Tatooine. He told me he knew who you were, that he was coming after you and I only had a week. I was… I felt something I haven’t felt in a long, long time. True fear. And when I got into that cantina… and I saw him sitting there with you…” Din shook his head, looking down. “I wanted to kill him. And then you started shouting at me…” He laughed a little, “You always have such a fire in you when you’re pissed at me… It’s like flying into the sun.”

You couldn’t help the soft laugh of your own, “I’d say I’m sorry but…”

He lifted his head, tilting it and you could feel his eyes on you through the visor, “Then I’d know that fall had done more damage than it already has.” The laughter visibly drained from his body, his voice, “I thought I’d lost you… You were…” He seemed to almost choke on the words, “You were dead. In my arms. Your heart wasn’t beating… You were just… gone.” His voice broke and he sucked in a breath. “My whole world stopped.”

The feeling of darkness, of those icy bands wrapping around you and filling your lungs washed over you, and you shuddered. You wouldn’t be forgetting the feeling of having the air crushed from your lungs for a long, long while.

You could only imagine what it was like for Din, having to pull you out. Having to coax your broken body into living again…

“I tried and tried, but… it just wouldn’t work. You were dead.” His voice was stricken, haunted and you had a feeling you might be waking up to Din’s nightmares soon too.

He sucked in a hitched gasp of his own, touching his helmet like he would run his fingers through his hair – his hands were shaking, almost violently and he curled them into a fist.

“All I could think was... how am I supposed to go on? I let you down, in the worst way possible. I let you slip away, I let him take you and hurt you and then you died... without... without seeing my face, without knowing what keeps me up at night, the things I so desperately want to say to you. That threaten to come out every time I see and... and I have to change the subject or leave because I look at you and I just...” He lifted his head again, watching you, his chest heaving, “Lose my mind. Lose everything I know. It all just fills with you. And then I don’t know which way is up or where to go that isn’t by your side. I want to be there, all the time. I want to hear the way you think, I want you to shout at me when I annoy you. I want to watch you play with the kids and get them to do things when they don’t listen to me. I want to see the world through your eyes, see the beauty in every single thing.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t do anything but let these words, this outpouring wash over you and listen to the way he’d been feeling for… months.

“And to know that you would have died without knowing that, without me being able to tell you just how much you mean to me, how much I need you in my life and I want to protect you. How you make me a better man and-” He made a little noise, like he was winded.

“Din.” You limped across to him, cupping the jaw of the helmet, “Din, breathe.” There were tears rolling down your cheeks, your mind reeling at his sweet, meaningful words, but he was going to send himself into some kind of attack in a minute. You slid your hands down to rest on top of his shoulders, feeling the broad strength beneath the fabric.

At your touch, even with the layers, he groaned like he was in pain. “Whenever you touch me… I feel like I’m burning. Like… electricity is searing through me. It makes me feel alive. I… Mandalorian’s don’t really… we don’t really experience touch.” He motioned loosely to his armour, being careful not to bump you – or move you away. “We don’t get to feel the breeze on our hair… or the sun on our skin. We don’t feel a casual touch or a hug or… anything.” He sounded a little hesitant, speaking such words that he would never, ever have previously said aloud before. His tone was a little jagged and stilted, like he was torn between keeping the anonymity of the Mandalorian’s and telling you everything.

“But… When I feel your touch, your skin… It’s like... I’m feeling everything all at once.” He lifted his hand, brushing wet, gloved fingers down your cheek, but the touch still ignited you, “That night I felt your hair... and when you had your nightmare… I thought I was going to die. From how you felt around me, the way you were so… ready… ” Another ragged hitch of breath.

You turned your head into his touch, goosebumps rising over your skin, “So, touch me again.”

Din’s fingers stilled, and you almost heard his heart thud, “I… what?”

You lifted your hand, brushing your fingertips over the edge of his gloves, “Touch me.” You looked up at him, heat coiling in your belly, your very soul, “Din, touch me. Please.” Desire and pleading coloured your voice, your expression. A wildness came over you, and you shed yourself of your torn top, leaving just the thin bandeau around your chest.

Din’s hands curled into fists as you took off your top and he looked at you, your lips parted, your cheeks flushed, desire burning through your eyes and darkening them.

“Close your eyes.” His voice was husky and rough, equally desperate for you.

Without a hesitation, you obeyed, squeezing shut your eyes, barely able to restrain yourself.

You heard the sound of leather on skin, two wet plops on the floor and you expected Din’s touch on your skin but… instead, you heard him pick up your top.

A soft ripping noise was heard over the water, and then you felt the sodden fabric against your closed eyes. He was tying it behind your head, like a blindfold. “Din, what are you…”

“Shhh, cyar'ika.” There were some sounds you couldn’t identify and then…

Then the sound of air hissing – a little bubbly -, and then something hard and metallic being set down on the floor, then the wet plop of his top.

Your heart stopped. Everything stopped.

Something hard.

And metallic.

Oh, Maker and all the stars above.

“Din…” You whispered his name this time, your heart suddenly pounding a frantic beat in your chest, your neck, your wrists. Heat flooded across your body, your skin tightening in anticipation and it was a little harder to breathe.

He’d taken off his helmet.

You heard footsteps, and then Din’s hands cupped your cheeks, big, a little rough and always so warm. “Princess…” He whispered it back, and you had the sense of him coming closer.

The first brush of his lips consumed you.

They were a little chilly, but plush and unimaginably soft. And there was a scratchiness on your lips…

Oh, by the Maker, he had a moustache… That did things to you. Things that resulted in heat and warmth between your legs.

Din moved those lips over your own, like butterfly wings, checking you were okay with this.

Like he wasn’t the one who had just removed his helmet for the first time, properly around you. Like you weren’t standing there with just a piece of torn cloth shielding your eyes. You could easily reach up and swipe it away and see his true face.

But you would never do such a thing.

Never even think of it.

And he knew that, which is why he trusted you so much.

It made your heart ache, in the best way.

But this soft kissing… it wasn’t enough.

You angled your head more into his, his rough hands still cupping your jaw and you kissed him with a little more pressure. Your hands reached up, fingertips brushing his bare shoulders and then you dropped them to his waist instead, and you grasped his hips, letting him know he could let go, that you needed him to let go as well.

Din made a little noise against your lips, and by the way he went still, you just knew it was with restraint. You could feel that tidal wave inside him, cresting and so close to crashing back down.

You wanted it. No… you needed to consume you both.

Needed him to consume you.

You pulled back mere millimetres, just enough to whisper, “Din… Let go…” You brushed your hands along the sodden fabric of his trousers, your thumbs brushing the bare skin of his hips.

That simple touch, that whisper of a caress on such previously untouched skin melted any restraint within him.

With a noise like a moan and growl all in one, he pulled you closer. His mouth came down on yours, kissing you with a sudden fierce intensity that seared through you.

It broke your own walls, and you curled your fingers into his belt, rising up on tiptoe and matching his frantic pace.

Within seconds, his tongue lightly traced your lips, and when you parted for him, he moaned low in the back of his throat, that proper taste of you nearly bringing him to his knees.

The press of his hot tongue against your own was a blessing, a curse, and a damnation all in one.

He tasted like… like cool water on a hot day, like fresh tea in the morning, like the best chocolate cake, all rolled into one and topped with his distinct, smokiness that clung to him.

Din’s arms snaked around your waist, sliding up your back, holding you into his body but it wasn’t close enough, not enough for how long this had been building between the two of you.

That intense heat never failed to take over, whether you were teasing each other, arguing, or doing delicious things like this.

It had been there from that very first moment on Sorgan.

You took the initiative, summoning the strength that had been building again and you pressed against him, pinning him to the wall just behind so you could lean your full body weight into him, so you could feel every inch of his body against yours.

It was heavenly, the feel of his bare skin, so new to you, against your own and the contact made your eyes roll back into your head a little bit.

He was solid, warm, and so familiar beneath your body, that every cell just cried out for more, no matter how close you were.

Din made a choked noise of his own, his entire body shaking with all the contact, a sensation he had never felt for years. It was like stepping into the sunlight for the first time, like sinking into hot water, or being electrocuted.

You felt him shaking against you, felt the ragged drag of his breath and you pulled back from his lips, “Din, if this is too much-“

He shook his head, chasing your kiss, his voice almost tortured, “No, don’t. Don’t stop, please. I… Just don’t stop.” He gasped a little, bringing his mouth back to yours.

You needed him, needed him in body, soul and mind and wanted to burn with him forever.

A torn sound of need escaped against his lips as you fought his tongue for dominance, tracing your tongue over his teeth.

Din groaned, his hands leaving their roaming over your back, just long enough to slide down over your ass and the backs of your thighs. He grasped them, bending his own knees and he picked you up, winding your legs around his waist.

He brushed against your core, and your moans of unison echoed over the pounding of the water. He rocked his hips against yours, the friction pressing against your burning heat, the rub of every hard in of him. He needed you, as much as you needed him and you were prepared to ask him, beg him to take you right here in the ‘fresher, against the wall…

Except, it chose that moment to go absolutely, completely, ice cold.

You squealed, pulling away from Din and ducking your head into his shoulder, trying to hide from the icy spray that was now hitting mostly the back of your head and neck. “Fuck me, that’s cold!”

From somewhere above you, Din burst into a chuckle, “Hang on, princess.’ His voice was low and husky, and only heated you even further, the icy water having no effect in diminishing the fire.

He turned off the taps, and the sudden silence was almost as loud as the water had been.

He gingerly stepped from the wet floor, holding you against his body still and he fumbled with one hand before a towel was swathed around your body. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

I can think of way you can warm me up.

There was a soft snort, and you knew your face had given away that thought, even with the blindfold. You rested your head back against Din’s neck, allowing him to carry you back to your room, just relishing in the feeling of being held by him – in more ways than one.

He made his way expertly through the ship, his feet making wet squelches on the floor that had you giggling.

By the time the doors to your room opened, you were both laughing, cheeks flushed and hearts stumbling over each other.

Din set you down carefully, his hands on your upper arms and the laughter faded away into something much more intense and serious.

You could feel his eyes on you, dragging over your skin like he was taking in every single inch. His breathing was ragged, his touch searing through your skin and warming your very bones. It occurred to you that you knew this man, inside and out. You could tell the change in his mood from his breathing, the tenseness of his body or what his head tilts meant.

You hadn’t seen his face, or any of his skin and yet… you felt like you knew him deeper than that, deeper than just what was on the surface. You could locate him in a dark room, from the sound of his breathing alone.

And he knew you too.

He always had.

His warm, broad hands brushed up your arms, over your shoulders, tracing a path. “Are you okay?” The rough cadence of his voice told you that he was holding back, everything in him that was still threatening to come out. But he was making sure you wanted this, wanted to cross the wall that had been crumbling ever since that night you broke down.

One word from you, and he would haul that wall back up and it would be fine.

Your lips parted at his touch and his voice, desire and a need for him coiling in your belly. You wanted to be close to him, to feel his skin on yours, his touch, map his body blindly and just… Rise to the stars and never fall back down, wrapped in him and everything he had bought to your life. “Yes… I want this… Din, I want you-”

No sooner had you finished talking, Din made a noise low in his throat and then he was on you, his hands sliding up your neck to your jaw, framing it in his hands like you were something precious and rare, and then his warmed lips came down upon yours. They were soft at first, dancing against your own with an almost shyness. And then it changed, his tongue brushing over your lips and then slipping inside your lips when you granted him permission.

His tongue danced with your own, and just the brush of his facial hair and the taste of him could have brought you to your knees. You moaned low, arching your body into him so you were pressed against his tall, broad frame, the bare skin of his belly and the tickle of his happy trail only making you wetter.

As you battled for dominance in the kiss, Din walked you backwards, pulling from your mouth with a tug to your lip and then he was planting kisses along your jaw, trailing them to your ear where he sucked your earlobe gently, earning a breathy moan in return.

He pushed you gently toward the bed, but not before pressing soft kisses down your neck – and then tracing back up the line of your throat with his tongue.

You felt that stroke of his tongue everywhere, the wet heat of it searing a line straight down your spine and you cried out a little, hand flying up to the back of his head to grip his hair by instinct.

And you froze.

You hadn’t asked for permission to touch him – if it was even okay, if he wanted you to. “Din, I – I’m sorry.” Your voice was choked with need, your fingers loosening.

“No!” Din shook his head rapidly, “No, keep it there – I... Touch me. Please.” His voice was hoarse again, his words hot and desperate against your throat.

His repetition of his words from the ‘fresher assured you it was okay, and you wound your fingers back into his hair, curling the locks around your fingers as he mouthed over your skin, dragging his teeth, “Din, I need you...”

The edge of the thin cot hit the backs of your thighs, and he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, “I know, sweetheart...” He kissed underneath your chin, then the hollow of your throat, “I’ve needed you, for so, so long...” His lips trailed lower, ghosting over your collarbones where he paused for a second, tracing a hot, wet line along them with his tongue again, “I think since the moment you tried to kill me on Sorgan.” The trail of lips moved over your chest, then your left breast, on the fabric of your bandeau, “When you teased me every moment after…” His words resounded with your soft, breathy moan, and he moved to the right, “And on Nevarro…”

He groaned a little, slowly sinking lower and his hands came up to your sides, as he bit gently on the skin of your belly, “Those words that came out of your mouth on Nevarro… You were killing me, you were seeing right into my head and telling me my dreams, like you knew them.” His tongue darted out, tracing a circle around your belly button and a shudder ran through you.

You dropped your hands to his shoulders, needing more grip and balance. And there was more than enough. You knew his shoulders were broad, but fuck, actually holding them was a completely different story.

Stars, you were going to fall apart and all he was doing was kissing you.

“You have no idea how much I wanted to do those things, how long I’ve wanted to… but… Most of all, I wanted this. To be able to take my time, and explore,” He kissed underneath your belly button, his facial hair scratching gently on the sensitive skin, “Every…” his hands slid down to grasp the belt loops of your trousers, and the waistband of your underwear, “Single…” He slid them both down over your hips, exposing your bare skin to him, “Inch,” He dropped down to his knees as your trousers reached your ankles, and he helped you out of them, “Of your body first.” He sat back on his knees, his voice sounding hoarse and choked again. “Look at you…”

Through the thin fabric of the blindfold, you could just make out the silhouette of him on his knees in front of you, a faint outline of his broad shoulder, a fuzzy outline of curly hair.

Your knees were trembling in anticipation, in fact your whole body was trembling as he just… admired you.

On his knees, worshiping you for the warrior goddess he believed you were.

His fingertips danced up your calves, your knees, grasping the backs of your thighs and then you felt his nose against your skin, his hair tickle your lower belly and then, finally, the press of his lips on your wet heat, but too soft, too gentle.

A ragged gasp emerged from your throat, and you lifted your hand back to his hair, pushing him closer, “Din.” You didn’t care how pleading your voice was, but you needed more than soft kisses.

A low chuckle rumbled against your sensitive bundle of nerves, and he nudged his nose to them once more before his hands tightened on your thighs.

The first brush of his tongue elicited a cry of relief from your lips, echoing with Din’s appreciative half growl at your taste, at how wet you were for him. He went in after that, dragging his tongue through your folds in broad strokes, like he already couldn’t get enough of you. “Shit, you taste...” he groaned again, burying his face further between your thighs, his tongue probing your entrance before sliding back up between your folds again.

You already couldn’t breathe, the moan getting caught in your chest and resulting in a soft, high whine and you leant into his touch, arching your spine. Letting your head drop back, you could do nothing but feel the hot stroke of his tongue, licking every inch of you.

He tilted his head back just slightly for a better angle, circling your clit with the tip of his tongue and your legs shook again, aching as they held you up and trembling.

“Din, wait-” You reluctantly tugged his head back, then half collapsed back onto the bed, and Din followed you like a magnet. He remained on his knees at the edge of the bed, and hooked one of your legs over those sinful shoulders, allowing him a better angle, a deeper angle to devour you like he was starving.

He pressed his tongue flat against you, before sucking on your clit with an intensity that made the room spin. It was like he was pulling electricity through your veins, making every nerve stand to attention, wait for his command.

You dropped your back onto the bed, both hands fisting into his hair and your hips rocking upwards against his lips. There was an ache within you, you wanted to feel more of him, needed just a little more –

Like always, he read your mind, and mere seconds later, he was sinking two long fingers into you, curling them up exactly as he had that night. Exactly as he knew you liked.

“Fuck, Din-” You keened his name softly, hips moving to match the pace as he pumped his fingers in out, curling them up into that spot that he found so easily.

He heard every noise you made, every reaction of your body and adjusted his pace and pressure in response, tucking away your reactions so he would always remember what you liked the most.

His rhythm wasn’t perfectly balanced, but it altered according to you. He learned fast and made sure that every single action provided the best possible feeling for you.

And stars above did he do a good job.

That electricity and fire was curling tense in your lower belly, singing through every inch of your soul. You were so desperate for him, your body crying out for him so badly that he had taken you to that edge already. “You… Shit, keep going, just like that…”

Din switched pace so fast you didn’t register it at all. One minute, his lips were sucking at your clit, his fingers stroking you – and the next, his tongue was pushing inside you and his fingers were on your bundle of nerves instead, drawing rapid circles and figures of eight that made you fully arch up off the bed.

“Din!” You cried his name, your whole body crying his name actually. It just felt so good, so devastatingly good that you weren’t sure how you were supposed to not want to do this all the time.

Your back arched further, your fingers wound so tightly in his hair as you shamelessly rode your hips to his rhythm, chasing down your high that he was holding you above. You knew you must be hurting his head, but he didn’t seem to mind, if anything, it was spurring him on, knowing that you needed to hold onto something to try and contain the pleasure.

His hands shifted to your hips, not to hold you down, but to pull you in closer, so he could bury his tongue deeper inside you, his own moans and growls of pleasure vibrating through the soft flesh. His stubble and moustache scratched against your sensitive skin, and that in itself was herding your body closer and closer to the edge, dangling you over.

Words were beyond you, the hot press of his tongue inside your walls was something you could never forget, and as he curled his tongue upward, brushed against that spot and pressed his fingers down harder, light exploded across your eyes.

The heat of your pleasure seared through every inch of your body, taking over with a pleasant hum, rendering you almost helpless as his name fell from your lips again and again.

Din didn’t stop, working you through your orgasm with that same pace, until your hips stopped rocking, your fingers relaxed in his hair and you could see again.

“Fucking hell…” You mumbled the words, shivering as Din cleaned you up, soft gentle strokes with a husky chuckle.

He pressed kisses back up your body, allowing you to catch your breath but by the time he reached your lips, and you tasted yourself on his tongue, you were ready, needing him again.

And by the hard line of his trousers, you knew he must be too.

As soon as his lips touched yours, you kissed him with fierce intensity. Your hands roamed down his back, mapping over his scars and bruises, painting an image in your mind of the man you loved, bringing him to life in the darkness.

He groaned into your mouth as you slipped your hands between your bodies, feeling the tenseness of his stomach muscles, layered with a softness that showed his age – which you absolutely adored.

This man wasn’t some young, bumbling fool. He was mature, devoted, and you loved every single inch of him. And he had never been touched like this before.

Sure, he’d had sex – as you found out one slightly drunken night when you were asking each other questions – but you knew that it was just… a release. No touching, no armour off, maybe not even his gloves.

Who knows how long it had been since this man had been touched like this on his bare skin, with love and passion? You could easily guess it was the same amount of time as you – longer.

And… you were the first person.

The first person to feel him.

To lay your hands upon his skin and show him how truly magnificent he was.

Spurred by his gasps of pleasure and surprise, you roamed lower, over the happy trail and began palming him through his trousers and pressing your hand into the hard length of him.

Then, quickly, you slipped your hand inside his trousers, feeling the tickle of short, coarse hair and then you gently grasped him, fingers wrapping around his thick, swollen length.

He moaned roughly against your lips, sucking in a sharp breath and you pumped him a couple times and his hips jerked forward against your touch.

Your mouth watered at the feel of him, and you pressed your thighs together at the thought of him filling you, being buried inside you and coming undone…

You had never been more grateful for stopping in a town a few years ago and shelling out the obscene number of credits for getting a contraceptive implant in your arm.

It was something you didn’t really need to bother with worrying about, but sometimes, the lonely nights got to you – and you didn’t want to have to worry.

And now, you could almost get on your knees and thank the Maker for that stroke of luck, because now you would be able to feel him inside you, every ridge, every vein, every inch of him.

Din only moaned louder as you brushed your thumb over his head, catching the drop or precum there and he rapidly pulled away.

You had no time to worry if you’d stepped over a line, because you heard him working at his belt, the sound of metal catching like it wouldn’t release.

Din swore under his breath and you realised the fumbling was due to his fingers trembling, in anticipation and the result of what was about to happen.

Heart melting, you sat up, reaching out blindly and finding the belt yourself, “Let me…”

You managed to undo his belt, even with your eyes covered and pop the buttons on his waistband, all the while feeling Din’s belly rise and fall unevenly as he watched you.

It felt like hours, but maybe it was only seconds as you heard Din rid the rest of his clothes and climb back over you, one hand next to your head. His breathing was a staccato rhythm and matched your own as your entire body held tight and coiled like a live wire.

He lined himself up at your entrance, nudging the head of his cock against you and he swore again under his breath as he felt how wet you were for him again, soaked and swollen. “Shit… You... you really want me…” His voice was full of wonder and surprise.

He still couldn’t get over it, that he had this effect on someone. That he made you half mad with need for him and he could make someone, make you feel that way.

You wanted him, wanted whatever he could give you and you were happy with it. Lying there, teeth sunk into your lower lip, cheeks flushed and your body open and yielding to welcome him home.

It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen.

“Din…” Your whisper broke him from his reverie, and then he was pushing into you, his hand curling into a fist in the sheets next to his head as if to hold himself back from going any quicker.

He was thick, and you felt every inch as he slowly sunk into you.

You both moaned in unison as he bottomed out, and he paused for a second so you could adjust to him, a slight sharp sting there but it felt absolutely delightful.

You would feel this tomorrow, feel that you had finally been joined as one, finally broken down those walls.

A few seconds later, sheer delight coursed through you and you slipped your hand up to his wrist, curling your fingers around it, “Move... Maker, please, move-”

Din pulled out slowly, before jolting back into you with a force that felt like your very spine would dissolve into nothingness. He felt so good, so perfect inside you and if you had any doubt that soulmates existed, it was gone now. It was like you were made for each other, slotting into one another souls and lives perfectly.

He started a slow, building rhythm, dropping his head into your neck to suck at the skin, rocking his hips into yours, “You have no idea how good you feel, sweetheart.” His words were a tight whisper into your neck, and you could feel the tense, rigid line of the muscles in his wrists from his clenched fist. He was still holding back, still afraid to hurt you or push you too far.

You tilted your head into his hair, your words clear, if not a little high with need, “Let go. Din, stop holding back – please, you won’t hurt me. You won’t scare me.” Fuck, you needed this just as much as he did. You didn’t want slow and gentle. You didn’t want to keep dancing around each other. It had been too long, and you had wasted far too much time trying to hold back in front of the other.

He was still hesitating, still unsure so you took initiative, hooking one of your legs around his waist and pressing the heel of your foot into his lower back to further emphasise your point. The angle opened you deeper, made him sink a little further in so you clenched around him, tight.

Din choked a little into your neck, his resolve breaking and then he lifted his head, grabbing your knee for grip and then he really began to move.

He snapped his hips faster, every few thrusts slowing down to push all the way into you, to hit that spot he was so acquainted with until you shouted his name, a prayer and a plea in one. “Fuck, sweetheart – you look… so beautiful, so fucking beautiful-” He moaned the words, watching you arch under him, your hips moving in tandem to match his pace thrust for thrust.

He dropped his head back to your chest, kissing and sucking at your breasts and nipples, adding new sparks of pleasure along with the deep fire of him pounding in you.

It wasn’t rough, not at all but it was raw, intense, your bodies syncing and moving with each other in a new dance, saying everything that needed to make up for the past few months.

Time ticked past as you climbed higher and higher together, your moans echoing with Din’s jagged praise, your nails scratching lines down his back as he pushed up even deeper inside you, hitting places you didn’t even know you had.

You lost sense of where you ended and Din began and you felt the threads of your lives tighten around each other, saw the golden threads strengthen with each rock of your bodies, further and further as you both flew up and up, exploding into light and stardust.

Both of you fell apart at the same time, your walls clenching tight around him as he exploded into you, filling you with heat as his hips jerked and stuttered. You both rode each other’s orgasms out, drawing them on and on until you were both utterly spent.

Din pressed open kisses to your neck, his rough growl still echoing in your ear as he mumbled sweet nothings against your sticky skin, his body weight heavy and welcoming into yours, “You are so beautiful. So, so beautiful.” Again, and again, he whispered these endearing things, until he eased out of you, leaving behind an incredible sense of loss.

You lay there blissfully, catching your breath, feeling a delicious ache in your bones that had replaced the dull pain from the week’s ordeals – and drowning.

How surprising such a day ended like this.

Though you didn’t doubt you would be hearing about it later.

Din returned, flicking what sounded like a switch on the way back in.

You heard him kneel next to the bed, and then a warm damp cloth glide over your thighs as he cleaned you both up, before slotting himself against you in the thin bed, facing you this time.

You eased onto your side, curling up against the wall and his body, a sated smile on your lips, “I… That was…” You shook your head a little, unable to stop the huge grin on your lips.

Din laughed softly, a quiet, rough laugh that caressed over your body and settled up in your heart. “Amazing? I never knew you were such a cliché.” He tapped your nose playfully, and you could hear the grin on his lips.

You couldn’t help the slight ache to your heart, the longing of wanting to be able to see how beautiful that grin was, see it light up his face and spark in his eyes. But you would never ask, never even let the thought of asking pop into your head. You appreciated every single thing he gave you, and you were more than content with whatever he was willing to offer.

So, you shoved that thought away, and instead lifted your fingertips to his face.

“Uh, sweetheart, you’re about to poke my eye.”

Indeed, you felt the soft brush of his eyelashes on your fingertips like moths’ wings, and you mumbled a sorry before tracing the line of his eyebrows, up his temples and across the slight wrinkles on his forehead. “I told you to stop frowning.”

Din huffed softly at your teasing, his warm breath tickling your wrist.

You followed a path down his nose, feeling the gentle bump to it that added a new little unique feature to the blurry map in your mind. On your fingers went, over the hair lining his upper lip that you could still feel the ghost of between your thighs. “I like this…” You couldn’t stop the slight cheeky smile, your toes curling a little.

He chuckled again, his lilt to his voice letting you know that his smile had turned wicked, “Oh, I know. I tasted how much you liked it.” A warm lick of heat tickled in your lower back at his voice, and you shook your head adoringly.

Next up, his lips. Those soft, plump lips that should be made sinful. You ran the pads of your fingertips over them, then yelped softly as Din suddenly bit them, lightly and playfully. “Hey!”

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He didn’t sound sorry though, he still sounded like he was smiling, and you realised it was... the happiest you’d ever heard him.

You were about to say as much, when you heard him move and then suddenly, the blindfold was tugged off your head, disorientating you with the unexpectedness of it.

You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut rapidly, “Din! You haven’t-“

“Relax, cyar'ika. Open your eyes…”

“But-”

“Open them, princess… Trust me.”

Hesitantly, you opened your eyes the faintest slit, and you were met with… Darkness?

Opening them further, you realised why.

Din had turned the lights off on his way back in from getting the cloth. That’s what that sound was.

The entire room was swathed in darkness, only the faint glow of the control panel over his shoulder. It provided the barest silhouette of light, allowing you to see the slight outline of those ridiculous shoulders, and just about the edge of his ear.

“I couldn’t stand the thought of you keeping that blindfold on… I… I know this isn’t… me… but… That way… You’re not kept out entirely. I could never keep you out...” His voice was a little rough, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart. This was the barest he’d ever been before you, the most exposed.

The amount of trust he was bestowing in you was almost heady. All it would take is one tiny malfunction in the ship, for the lights to come back on and then you’d see him.

You swallowed, your own heart pounding and you gazed in the general direction of his face, seeing him but... seeing none of his features at the same time. But still, to know he was right there, to feel his breath on your skin and see the tinies outline of him… it shattered you nearly.

“Thank you… I… Thank you. This… all of this... I can never thank you enough, Din. For everything you’ve ever done for me. For throwing away the bounty puck, for keeping me safe, for rescuing me… You’ve kept me alive far more than you know. You saw something in me and chose not to give up. And that’s more than a lot of people have every done for me, ever. When I’m with you… I feel safe. To be myself and… I feel like I could conquer anything, as long as you were there.”

You felt his hand snake to your waist, tracing slow, soothing circles on your skin.

“There’s so much I have to thank you for, so, so much I want to say to you. I’m… not always good with words… And it’ll take me time to… to open up fully but…” You shook your head slightly, all of the words tumbling over in your head, and you didn’t know where to start or if you would ever end. So, you settled for the four words that would be just enough for now. “I love you, Din.” Tears sprung to your eyes as you finally said those sweet words aloud, “I’ve loved you since I saw you in that alleyway, pretending you didn’t know me to keep me safe.”

Din’s breathing stuttered, catching over itself as he caught his breath. You felt him shudder a little as you mumbled the words, he had so longed to hear. He leant in, pressing his lips to yours in a slow, tender kiss that was so blissfully warm, so loving that it almost hurt. “You don’t ever need to explain yourself to me or feel like you need to tell me things. We’ll… we’ll work on it together, okay?”

Work on revealing yourselves to each other, bit by bit.

You smiled, breathlessly and teary against his lips, “Okay…”

It might have been hours later, but you were wrapped up in Din’s arms, your legs tangled, his arm over your waist and the other under your head – the bed was still extremely small.

You’d both drifted off to sleep now and then, in between the gentle kissing, the random conversations about Grogu and Duru’s mishaps or whether the best flavour of macarons was blue or pink.

But you were awake now, something floating around your head that was still there form a few days ago. Din was relaxed in front of you, his breathing even and deep, tickling your skin.

He had given up so much of himself to you already, even more so tonight allowing you to touch him, to see him in a way. And you loved him with every single fibre of your being, and... knew that he felt the same.

And… it was time.

You wanted to.

You wanted this.

Despite that, you still had a nervous writhing in your stomach, and it was a good fifteen minutes before you plucked up enough courage to speak, “Din? Are… you awake?”

His previously still fingers traced up the tattoo on your spine, “Mmm…” His voice was a rough hum, but you knew he was awake.

No more secrets. Starting now.

“I… I want to tell you something. About me… My past.” You bit your lip, fiddling with your necklace.

You heard Din nod against the pillow slightly, “Okay… Anything.”

Swallowing, you closed your eyes, like it might give you strength. “I want to tell you… why I have a bounty on my head. And why it’s so high.” Your words were a near whisper.

Din went very still around you, so quiet you might have thought he had gone back to sleep. Just before dread began to curl in your belly, the low rumble of his voice broke the silence. “I… I know what you’re going to tell me. And… I know.

At that, your eyes flew open, shock filtering though you, “What?

Maybe he misunderstood what you meant, or had heard another rumour…

Like always, he could read your mind, what you were thinking even in the darkness. “Sweetheart, I know.”

Previous| Next.

#soft sexy times for now because i have a smutty chapter written already that is utter filth #the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #din djarin #rogue

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a-simple-imagine · 4 years ago

Text

New Student

Requested by anonymous: “I was thinking maybe having the reader be a transfer student from Ilvermorny and Hermione tutors her to help her catch up with the curriculum of the new school.”

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader

Words: 4.3k+

Warnings - Prejudice and brief mention of pain

"I understand that your family is of pure descent, correct?" You can't help but fidget in your seat; the vibrant pink of her office was making you extremely uncomfortable. Not to mention the gentle mewing coming from the plates that decorated the walls. It was one thing to love cats but surely this grew annoying after a while. You nod a little as you sit up straighter. The headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was currently reading your transfer file. Having once attended school overseas, you were new to Hogwarts but instead of arriving like everyone else you were in your fifth year of education and the term had already begun for everyone else. Of course, your father cleared this with the school ahead of time but it was still embarrassing arriving so late. Not to mention, everyone else had four years of relationships and you were now just some weird new kid. "I do hope you'll consider your friends wisely while attending Hogwarts."

"May I ask what you mean by that Professor?" That was the first question you had asked since stepping through that door and you were very quickly regretting it. The woman wore a sickeningly sweet smile as she lowered the file from before her face.

"As a fifth-year student, you will be expected to take your OWLs this year. Do you believe your last establishment has prepared you for your examinations?"

"I guess," you shrug. You'd never had any trouble getting good grades in the past but Professor Umbridge didn't look convinced. Scribbling something down on her parchment, she pauses for a moment to meet your eyes.

"I would suggest acquiring a tutor for additional support. I can arrange for one of your peers to meet with you."

"That's quite alright, Professor." You dread to think of the tutor she would assign you; probably someone very studious and strict. Boring comes to mind too. "You're much too busy to concern yourself with such a task. I believe I'm quite capable of finding someone on my own."

"It is great to see a young witch taking some initiative," Her smile felt more genuine this time whereas yours was awkward.

"If that is all, may I go?"

"Of course. Run along dear" Slowly rising, you wish you could actually run out of the office and never come back but you proceed calmly. Only stopping by the door when you hear her speak once more. "But do keep in mind what I've said. We wouldn't want you falling in with the wrong kind of wizards while you're here. I expect your last school taught you how to conduct yourself."

"Thank you for your time, Professor Umbridge." With a bow of your head, you slip out the door with a sigh of the utmost relief. She was a very... intense woman to be around. After one meeting, you had another but this time it was with your head of house. Having arrived so late, you didn't partake in the sorting ceremony; which honestly you were kind of grateful for. Having to be sorted with a bunch of eleven-year-olds in front of the whole school definitely would have followed you around. Professor McGonagall briskly glides down the hallway as you stumble a few steps behind. She was the head of Gryffindor.

"I hate to be a bother but Professor Umbridge suggested I get a tutor and I was wondering if you might know a suitable candidate? With having started a few weeks after everyone else and OWLs fast approaching, I thought it was best to be safe than sorry"

"Your transcripts from your previous school don't suggest you'll have much trouble but a tutor may be beneficial," The older woman glanced back at you with a warm smile. "I have the perfect witch for the job. She's a real credit to Gryffindor. You were in Thunderbird previously?"

"Yes ma'am. Thunderbird House was considered to represent the soul of a witch or wizard and favoured adventures," you announce proudly. "I've never felt like much of an adventurer myself though."

"I'm sure you'll be a grand edition to Gryffindor. I may be biased but we're the best house at Hogwarts."

"I don't doubt that," Although you had no clue about any of the other houses to compare. "If you don't mind me asking Professor, where are we going?"

"To introduce you to your new tutor. She's in your first class so I thought I would escort you."

"Oh," You scramble forward a little faster to keep up with the woman; falling into step. "Do you think she'll be enough? I transferred at such an awkward time."

Hogwarts castle was as big as you'd imagine which made the journey to your first class seem like an eternity. As you're led down the hallway and into the dungeon, it's like the atmosphere completely changes. It's dark and cold down here. She comes to a stop outside a classroom, you peer around Professor McGonagall to see students sat at desks with small cauldrons placed before them.

"Can I speak to Miss Granger?" McGonagall asks of the teacher. He didn't seem too happy about the intrusion but he doesn't object. After a moment, a girl with luscious locks of mahogany brown steps through the door; she looks worried.

"Have I done something wrong, Professor?" Her eyes fall to yours and you offer up a small smile which she returns.

"Of course not. I just wanted to introduce you to our newest student. She'll be joining Gryffindor and was in the market for a tutor. As one of the finest students in all of Hogwarts, I thought of you."

Her eyes seemed to sparkle in response to the praise. "I would be happy to help, Professor."

It was becoming more clear that whoever this girl was, she was very eager to please. It was written in her body language or the way she addressed McGonagall. She introduces herself as Hermione Granger before heading back into class to ensure she doesn't miss anything. The nerves set in as you realise you're supposed to follow.

"A new student for you, Professor." Guess there was no turning back, you step through the archway. It was rather dull and dark but it matched the feeling of the dungeons. The shelves were lined with varying ingredients and while students had previously been working on potions, now all their attention was drawn to you.

"A little late for new additions," The man spoke slowly; he had a nasally sound to his voice. His displeasure transformed into a scowl aimed directly at you. The whispers of nosey students fill the awkward silence

"I'm-"

"Just take a seat," He demands and you didn't think twice about it. Hurrying to the first open seat you could find. "We don't have time for frivolous introductions."

Potions class had never been something you had struggled with but it seemed that the Professor - whose name you had come to learn as Snape - seemed to be making it as difficult as possible. Every question was thrown at you despite other students who will not be named being so eager to answer them. They were also specific questions such as where to find certain ingredients within the confines of the UK which you had no clue. You knew today was going to be a very long day.

Lunchtime approached and nothing felt more daunting today than being in a room full of students and not knowing a single one. You park yourself down at the end of Gryffindor table, food lined the middle and you grab a few sandwiches placing them on your plate. You're not sure if it's relief or something else when you spot the only girl you knew so far come to join you; followed by some friends.

"McGonagall gave me your timetable," She announces, sitting down opposite you. "and I have created a schedule that ensures we have enough time to cover everything."

"When did you have time to make this?" You wonder, taking a bite of the sandwich you'd picked up. It wasn't half bad.

"Never underestimate Hermione's ability to do a boring task," Next to her sat a boy with ginger hair; he wore a welcoming smile on his face that was peppered with freckles. "I'm Ron by the way."

The others that had arrived alongside Hermione, introduced themselves one by one. There was Ginny Weasley who was related to Ron; even if she hadn't told you it wasn't hard to figure out. Then there was the famous Harry Potter. A name you knew only in passing; rumours spread all around the world about him. Hermione slides a piece of parchment across the table. Along the top sat the days of the week and down the side were hours within the day. They were colour coded by type so each potion class and potion study sessions were in green and so on. Pretty much every square had been filled in with one boring task or another. "This is... a lot."

"Considering our classes this morning, you seem rather behind so I thought it was best that we take every opportunity to bring you up to speed," Having moved to England, the accent and speed in which they spoke was rather hard to understand but you don't bring it up. "We have a lot to cover before exams."

"I'm actually rather good at potions," you protest. "Professor Snape was asking me weird questions. How am I supposed to know where to find things, I've only just moved here."

"Snape can be a right git," Ron mumbles through a mouth full of food.

"You're from America, right?" This time it's Harry who speaks. There's a part of you that wants to ask about his scar but considering you've just met it seemed too rude to voice.

"Yes," you nod. "I attended Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry until my father insisted on sending me here once we moved."

"Hogwarts is the best wizarding school in the world." Hermione declares. "Or so I've read."

"I liked my old school," You'd grown used to the mechanics of Ilvermorny plus you had friends there. "Hermione, no offence, but I would kind of like to have a little fun while I'm here and this leaves no time for literally anything else? What about clubs or quidditch?"

"Studying is fun. What could be more beneficial than acquiring new knowledge," Hermione's expression is genuine but you can't see yourself thinking studying is the epitome of fun any time soon. "I will not let Professor McGonagall down by not preparing you properly. So that means hard work- we will start after lunch."

"Is she always like this?" You turn to the others.

"Pretty much." They all agree. Maybe this had been a mistake?

"So you're the new girl, huh?" A shadow lingers over you and you look up to the culprit. That vibrant red hair seemed to be everywhere, you frown a little before looking to Ron.

"Heard you came all the way from America." Another one appears beside him, a broad smile on display. Twins?

"They're my brothers," Ron answers the question before you can even ask. There sure were a lot of Weasleys in this castle.

"How many Weasleys are there?"

"I have six siblings, Ginny is the youngest. Bill, Charlie and Percy have already left though."

"I'm Fred." One of the twins announces, patting your shoulder a little. "The most handsome Weasley brother."

"I'm George and I'm much more handsome than that git," He shoves his brother playfully.

"You're identical twins,"

"No, we're not," George protests. "Fred here is adopted. I can't believe you think we look the same."

"I'm offended you think I look like this tosspot, I'm much prettier." He dramatically pretends to flip his hair over his shoulder.

"We can show you around if you like?" They both offer; as bad as it sounds you knew you were gonna struggle remembering who was who.

"We know every corner of this place." Fred declares

"Every nook and cranny." George continues. "We also the guys to go to if you ever need anything- think fanged frisbees or puking pastels. We've got you covered."

"Uh..." Glancing to your timetable, you hold it up for them to see. "I don't think I'll have time for a tour between classes and study sessions."

"Shame."

"Guess we'll see you around then, Miss America." They both leave you alone to finish your lunch.

Written down Hermione's schedule was a lot but attending sessions was ten times worse. The constant studying was exhausting; how she was able to just keep going was crazy but impressive. Today was Arithmancy study in the Gryffindor common room. You were sat beside Hermione at the desk; sketching her side profile on the parchment filled with unfinished sums as she explained what she was doing. Every so often she'd look at you and you'd look away. Careful not to get caught staring as you perfected each delicate line that made up her face.

"And that's how you get fifty-six- see?" Hermione shows you her work, tapping the answer with the tip of her quill.

Staring at the answer didn't make much sense but neither did the working out. You hadn't been listening at all so you flash her a sympathetic smile. "I don't get it,"

"Are you even paying attention?" Her brow crinkled; her quill falling to the desk.

"Yes-"

"Let's see your work then?" Before she can grab it, you drag your parchment away. Smothering the contents with the palms of your hands.

"No."

"Show me." She requested firmly. Eyes narrowing in on you as if issuing a challenge. With a heavy sigh, you back down. Handing over your work.

"Fine. I wasn't paying attention," You admit with a shrug; leaning over the back of the chair to stare up at the ceiling. "Arithmancy is just so boring."

"You chose to take it,"

"My parents forced me to take it," You correct, glancing back at her. Taking your parchment between her fingers, it's hard to miss the rush of colour that floods her pale cheeks. You didn't think your drawing was that good; definitely not even close to some of your other work. If anything you were embarrassed by how bad it was.

"It's pretty rough like I could do better if I had more time and my pencils" Drawing provided you with a distraction when it was most needed. You'd only started a year ago but it quickly developed into your hobby of choice. Learning to sketch people had been tough but after spending pretty much every class, staring at your fellow students you had gotten decent at it.

"It's..." Hermione trails off, handing back your work. "Can you please focus?"

"We've been at this for hours." A long groan leaves your throat as you slump down in your seat. Arms folded over your chest.

"Just a few more questions before we finish,"

You were finally growing used to your life at Hogwarts. Most of your time was spent with Hermione but you did manage to convince her to ease up a little. She grew busy with a club or something so she was more than happy to leave you to your own devices.

"You wanted to see me, Professor," you announce, entering the pink lion's den. It was somehow looking even pinker than the last time you stepped foot in here.

"Ah yes, please do take a seat. I'll be just a moment." Dropping your bag down beside the chair, you sit in the seat she signalled to. There wasn't a lot of time before you were supposed to meet Hermione to practice some charms. After a moment, Professor Umbridge speaks up. "Do you know why I've asked to see you?"

You shake your head slowly.

"Do you remember what I told you when you first arrived?"

"To get a tutor? I don't believe I'm falling behind in my classes." Hermione had been a great teacher overall; ensuring you understand everything before moving on although Snape still had a habit of asking you questions you didn't know. Was this about that?

"I'm referring to your choice in companions."

"Oh," you swallow hard. You didn't know what to say to that. Since arriving you'd started hanging with Hermione and her friends. You'd also found yourself drawn to the Weasley twins on the odd occasion. "Uh... I can assure you I've made friends Professor."

"I've noticed," she didn't sound pleased "Professor Snape also mentioned that you've been a wee bit disruptive in his class."

"That's not a fair judgment-" The words leave your lips sharper than intended but fall short when you notice the crease across the other woman's forehead.

"As headmaster, you must realise that I can't allow you to disrupt the way this school runs. Therefore you will be punished." Other than getting questions wrong, you wouldn't say you've done much else wrong in Snape's class. It wasn't fair that you were being punished for something so trivial but speaking up seemed like a one way trip to something worse. "Don't look so worried. You'll just be writing lines for me."

"Writing lines," you repeat cautiously. That seemed easy enough before you could reach into your bag, a quill and piece of parchment are placed before you. "What do you want me to write?"

"I must not fraternise with muggle-borns,"

"What does that have to do with Snape's class?" You wonder.

"Just do as your told," Umbridge quips quickly. "I do believe you've been seen around the castle with Miss Granger, correct?"

"Hermione?" You hardly believed Hermione had done anything to step out of line. Plus what did that have to do with anything? You were allowed to be friends with whoever you wanted. "Of course she is my tutor after all."

"It seems it may be more than that," Umbridge's sickeningly sweet giggle fills the office. "Now please begin."

"You haven't given me any ink?"

Striding behind her desk, she takes a seat and offers a smile. "You won't need any,"

Picking up the quill, you twist it between your fingers trying to figure out its secrets. It was black in colour, long, thin, and looked to be extremely sharp. Clearly, it was an enchanted quill if it didn't need ink. The tip glides across the paper with ease, gracing its surface with the ridiculous phrase you'd been forced to write in shiny red ink. How many times was she expecting you to do this? Hermione wouldn't be happy if you turned up late to one of your study sessions... again. A weird tingling spilt through the back of your hand before transforming into a sharp pain as you write the phrase a second time. Each letter appeared on your hand as you write it as if etched there by a scalpel. You drop the quill and the words slowly fade away but not without leaving your hand red. "Keep writing," Umbridge draws your attention, peering over from behind her teacup. You take a deep breath and write I must not fraternize with muggle-borns, the searing pain returned to your hand as you saw the phrase carved into your skin. You flex your hand as if that would relieve the pain but again the wound heels over. You no longer stopped between each line, the burning in your hand now a constant but it seemed after so many times the phrase was no longer fading. The hand on your shoulder startles you; the quill slipping from your grip.

"I think that's enough, you're free to go." Grabbing your bag, you leap out of your seat and rush for the door. "As a witch of your social standing, you should know better."

Head down, you charge through the castle to go meet Hermione but your speed slows as you realise tears prick your eyes. Dropping down on the nearest bench, you bury your face in your hands. Surely that kind of punishment wasn't allowed?

"If it isn't our favourite American." Head shooting up, you spy Fred and George. After all this time, you were beginning to be able to tell them apart.

"Why so glum, chum?" Your eyes drift just briefly to the scar on your hand. The twins taking up space either side of you.

"It's nothing- I'm fine."

"If you're fine, why are you crying?" Fred puts his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

"I'm not crying," but you have to wipe your cheeks to make sure. "I just..." you couldn't explain why you were so upset. Your thumb brushes over the back of your hand.

"Oh- it's no so bad," Fred squeezes your arm gently, they must have figured it out. "It'll fade soon enough."

"And it doesn't hurt very long, look." George shows you the back of his hand, you can't even read what it was supposed to have said. It doesn't make you feel better. "Don't cry, she's not worth it."

"Can you two leave me alone?"

"Nope," George's thumb brushes away a stray tear before tapping you on the end of your nose. You couldn't help but smile a little as you scrunched up your nose.

"We don't leave pretty sad girls alone in corridors to cry." Fred insists. "How about you show us what she had you write?"

Unsure about the decision, you let the two of them see what Umbridge had done. George takes hold of your hand, inspecting it carefully. "I must not fraternize with muggle-borns," George reads out quietly. "Do much fraternizing do you?"

"I don't even know any muggle-borns," Is all you say in response. Muggle was such a dumb word.

"Uh... Hermione? Aren't you two like best friends," Fred comments

"Hermione is No-Maj-born?" So that was why Umbridge had seemed so interested in your relationship. It was clear she held prejudice against No-Majs so it was only logical that she was trying to keep you, a pure-blood wizard, from mixing with Hermione, A no-maj-born.

"No-maj?" George questions

"Right, no-maj stand for no magic? You call em muggles." You sniffle, drying your cheeks properly.

"Ah no-maj." they both repeat.

Feeling a little better the twins escort you to your courtyard for your session with Hermione. She was packing up her textbook when she finally notices you. 0What did I tell you about punctuation? I will not tolerate sitting around here like a fool- if you do not wish to take your studies seriously then don't bother asking me to tutor you at all." The fire behind her eyes brings you to tears only this time they were hot and fast. Spilling down your face as a result of being yelled at. Hermione's expression drops, your tears extinguishing the fire. "I- Uh... sorry. I didn't mean-"

"I-It's alright," With the sleeve of your cardigan, you try to wipe away all evidence of your breakdown.

"What's wrong with your hand?"

"Umbridge," You don't even try to conceal it now. "I don't think she likes that we're hanging out."

"I'm sorry she did that to you," She takes your hand in hers, her fingertip dancing delicately over your scar. It was ripe to the touch causing you to flinch a little; pulling your hand away. "You should tell your parents."

"And cause more trouble?" Was she crazy? "I don't want to give her any more reason to drag me into the office again."

"Then... if you don't wish to continue our study sessions, I would understand. I don't want to get you into trouble." Hermione fidgets with the strap of her bag, unable to look you in the eye. It was probably the smartest choice to never hang out with Hermione again. It would certainly save you from future punishments but if you did that you'd undoubtedly miss her. She'd become such a constant In your life, you could imagine it without her in it.

"I like our sessions together," You declare, offering her the warmest smile you could muster. "Can we skip today though? My hand stings and I'm really not in the mood anymore."

"Sure," Her smile looks almost sad in comparison. "Should we go get some dinner?"

Finishing up packing, the two of you head for the great hall. There was no way Umbridge was gonna dictate who you can be friends with even if it meant more punishment.

Christmas approaches fast and brought with it a merry aura that filled every inch of the castle. You linger in the courtyard with your suitcase waiting for Hermione. She promised to meet you before you left but had a commitment to attend to first. You don't question her but you do wish she'd hurry up; it was awfully cold out here. It's a miracle when she finally shows up, a bright smile as she approaches

"I just wanted to give you this before I go." Digging through your pockets, you produce a folded up piece of paper; taking a few steps closer.

"What is it?"

"Open it," The nerves settled in your stomach as she unfolded the paper. This time, using your pencils, you'd manage to create an almost collage of sketches. Each one of the girl who stood next to you right now during different times in the past month. It seemed like a nice little farewell gift. "Have a good break, yeah?"

"These are... you're really good." Hermione meets your soft gaze. Her face pink in colour but that may have been due to the cold. "Thank you." She wears a small, embarrassed smile. "When did you have time to draw these?"

"Never underestimate my ability to avoid my responsibilities and draw pretty girls instead," you tease. Leaning toward you place a kiss against her cheek before pointing to the address you'd written on the bottom. "Write to me."

#Hermione Granger #Hermione Granger x reader #Hermione x reader #Harry potter #hermione granger imagine

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fanficwritersinterviewed · 3 years ago

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ITWW, antheiasilva

<<This post is a part of a longer conversation about fanfic writers, how they view fanfic, and their writing process. All views are the fanfic writers’ own, and whatever fanfic they choose to write is entirely their own decision. No judgment value will be placed on fic content. These conversations are meant to provide insight for other fanfic writers in whatever stage they are at in their writing life>>

In the Weeds Wednesday (with antheiasilva, @antheiasilva)

What’s your writing schedule like? Fits and spurts, when I can. There's no schedule, it happens when I'm up for it and have time.

When it comes to writing, what are some things that challenge you, and how are you working through it? Dialogue comes easiest to me, and blocking out a scene, but the environment and background, exposition, that stuff is harder for me. So now I write in layers. I go with what's coming to me - usually dialogue - and fill in what I have, and then add more afterwards. Like printing in different layers of colour. I sometimes get frustrated with fics sounding too much the same - and for that I have to set the tone of a specific fic by reading earlier chapters- and having a wonderful beta read through things to check that it matches. Hint hint…

Haha! Yes, that’s true, you DO have a remarkably cool beta [reader: on occasion, it’s me]. Could you talk for a bit about beta readers, what you look for, how they support you/your work? It does depend a bit on the fic. Sometimes I just want an enthusiastic screamer or someone to read it over to see if there's anything glaringly off or awkward. Other times, I do want someone to push me a bit–whether it's on prose and style, or depth or type of characterization. I do want things to feel in character, even in the most outrageous premises. And sometimes what I want to happen bumps up against the character and I want my beta to be able to tell me that. I've found betas mostly through vibing online about similar stuff. I always try to work with writers I admire. I want to learn from my betas and talk about craft with them.

What’s the hardest thing you've ever attempted with a fic, and why was it difficult?��I think the hardest thing was the structure and style with “After the War.” The different reveals that involved flashbacks were more complex than the single progressive timeline that happens in most of my fics. I had to know what happened but hold things back so we could see Obi-Wan figuring things out as his memory returned. And shifting from the minimalistic style to a more fleshed out style as Obi-Wan woke up and healed, while keeping the same tone - that was really hard.

But beautifully done, and effective. Where does reading fanfic fit into your process? I am always blown away by the level of writing in my fandom (Qui-Gon/Obi-Wan, but also Star Wars prequel and Clone Wars). I do admire eloquence and precision, as well as a fully realized world - little details that bring the fic to life. I want to experience fic like I'm stepping onto a holodeck from Star Trek. I want fic to make me feel things. I often pick what I'm reading based on what I am experiencing or want to experience. And that definitely influences how I write.

Show don't tell is something that I struggle with, so I do enjoy it, but I am sometimes frustrated by it and long for more interiority. I do want a balance of that. Because show don't tell is often held up as the gold standard but it is one style. It's not everything and it has its own history and lineage and politics.

Oh absolutely, I feel that. I feel like all writing advice, show don't tell included, should be taken as trying to find a balance in how you write. Not as the one and only truth and answer and way. Exactly.

So, after saying that, lololol... What advice have you heard/gotten that has had a meaningful impact on the way you write or your relationship with your writing? One that I say to myself is "the best chapter is a done chapter" - which is to say, sometimes you just need to finish and post and move on because you could be endlessly editing.

Do you kill your darlings? I do kill them when they are redundant. Or when they scatter focus or get a scene away from itself. I try to remember that words are a renewable resource- I can always make more, there will be more. I don't need to cling to little phrases or even passages as if I won't ever have something like that again. Listening to audiobooks really helped me with this one. I love “Wild Space” by Karen Miller, but she does a triplicate descriptor sentence structure thing ALL the time. And it just annoyed the crap out of me after a while listening to it. I don't need the same action described in three different ways in apposition. Pick one.

Oh man. well. I've been called out, haha! I mean, I do it too! Everyone does. But not constantly and for mundane actions. It showed me, though, that I should probably read my stuff out loud to myself more for editing. I do do that sometimes and realize I've used "still" like four times in a paragraph.

That’s a great one I always think I’ll do and then… don’t. Lolol! Okay, say something nice about your own writing. Hmm..... I think I'm good at using language to depict and evoke feelings. My characters have depth and emotional realism. Sometimes my prose can be awfully pretty. And I think my stories can really hit readers in the feels, so to speak.

So, tell me. Why do you write fanfiction? Because I love it. I love the characters, I love the world, I love the millions of different scenarios. I don't get bored with these characters. I want to see them over and over and over again. I want to get to know them and their motivations and their history. I want to see them through different eyes, as I change and as I experience them in new ways through other people's writing.

It's personal healing and development - because it's expressive, and I get to work through things - as we talked about earlier - and make sense of myself as I make sense of the characters. It's fun. It's so fun. It's an adventure in your brain. I have aphantasia, so I can't just imagine and watch scenarios in my head - I have to depict them, build them, touch them. Fic is the way to do that.

Also, my readers are pretty awesome. And there is this magical feeling of posting a chapter being like giving a present. But it's a present to myself too. There's just a lot of joy to be had and circulated. And I think that's pretty radical stuff these days.

#in the weeds wednesday #antheiasilva #fanfic writers interviewed #fanfic #fanfic writing

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kenkamishiro · 4 years ago

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20210218 Jack Jeanne Creator Interview with Famitsu - Interview #1 with Ishida Sui

The Jack Jeanne staff (Ishida Sui, Towada Shin, Kosemura Akira, Seishiro) were interviewed by Famitsu, a Japanese gaming magazine for Jack Jeanne’s release. Someone was kind enough to let me read it, so I’ll be translating the 4 interviews. The interview with Ishida I’ll do a full TL, and the other three I may do more of a summary since I’ve been busy lately.

Ishida Sui

Creator / Character Designer / Script Supervisor

Mangaka. From Fukuoka Prefecture. Creator of “Tokyo Ghoul” and “Tokyo Ghoul:re.” 2021 marks his 10th anniversary in the art industry.

Characters that were created based on the idea of “personifying plays”

Please share with us how you honestly felt when you received the commission request for this work.

That it seemed kind of questionable but interesting nonetheless. “If others can do it, I can too,” I thought.

How did fans react after Jack Jeanne was announced?

I still get letters from the readers of Tokyo Ghoul to this day, but some of them would bring up Jack Jeanne, or mention that they like a character and are interested in them even before the game’s release, so it makes me happy seeing that reception.

Please share with us your thoughts about being in charge of the character design.

It was a good learning experience because it was something I’d never done while working on my manga, trying to finalize the 6-member cast of the protagonist and the main characters, and then completely focusing on them as an elite squad. I tend to make too many characters, so...

When coming up with a character, how do you develop their image?

Previously, I decided it based on the character’s name and face. But with Jack Jeanne, it was a trial-and-error process. At first, I envisioned each character as a personification of a play - for example, Fumi was modelled off of “Salome”, Yonaga off of “Shintokumaru”, Shirota from one of Yamamoto Shūgorō’s works... I dropped the idea after that...and that’s how they were developed. They were created in a peculiar way this time.

Which character did you have the easiest time drawing, and on the flipside, which character did you find yourself struggling to draw?

Kai was the very first character I created, followed by Fumi. Those two I was able to draw relatively quickly. I wouldn’t really call this a struggle, but Suzu, the one with the red hair, wasn’t part of the main cast of six at first. Ootori, the blond character with the prickly personality, was actually part of the main cast at first, but since I wanted a simple-minded character, Suzu ended up being promoted.

I’m sure you consider every character your favourite, but if you had to pick only one character, who would it be?

Probably the main character Kisa. She embodies everything I think of in a shoujo manga protagonist, and I’m very fond of her. But I really do love all the characters. They each have their own appeal, so I can’t settle on just one.

Was there anything you had to constantly keep in mind when designing the characters for Jack Jeanne?

Broccoli specially requested that I give every character a strong colour palette. It’s because if I’m left to my vices, I end up using only subdued tones...I also constantly kept in my mind that I was making them look good-looking as boys.

You were also responsible for the event illustrations in the game. Could you give more details about them, and any difficulties that you faced?

For the event illustrations, I had to be aware of what scene would best match the script. Towada-san also specified where the illustrations should be inserted, but if there was a better scene before or after it, I gave priority to it instead. The hardest part...was drawing them all by myself. There ended up being more than 160 illustrations.

I heard it was you who requested Touyama Maki to design the chibi characters. Please share with us the appeal of the chibi characters drawn by Touyama-san, as well as your thoughts when you saw the chibi characters in the game.

Touyama-san’s appeal...is that their art is great! The deformed characters are perfectly balanced and outstandingly stable. I’m also a fan of their art and I like their life-proportion-size characters. It’s really cute seeing them move their tiny limbs around on the game screen.

Despite his humble abilities as an amateur lyricist, he oversaw every song with a burning passion that was second to none.

You supervised the game and the script, but what was the most memorable part of working on this game for you?

For starters, I vividly recall talking with Towada-san all the time. It was common for us to spend 10 hours a day talking to one another, several times a week.

How did production handled between the two of you for the script proceed?

I come up with the general outline. I’d talk about the overall flow and the key developments during the meetings, and Towada-san would take that and organize it, adding descriptions and colour to the details. It would have been impossible to create Jack Jeanne without her.

You wrote the lyrics to all the songs, including the opening song “Jack & Jeanne Of Quartz.” Please share with us how you came to be in charge of the lyrics.

Originally, there were several candidates, and there was even one person that I thought, “This person might be the one.” But I realized that it would take an enormous amount of time to share the understanding of my work to them, so I decided to give it a try, thinking that even an amateur would be the best for the job as long as they were passionate.

How did you come up with the lyrics?

I’m embarrassed to say this since I’m a complete amateur, but I tried my best to associate it with the feelings and information related to the subject, and whether it sounded good when sung...at any rate, I did my absolute best.

Are there any verses in the lyrics that you’d like people to pay special attention to, or any phrases that you really liked?

Avu-chan from Ziyoou-vachi (a 4-member rock band) is a friend of mine, but when I met up with her, I had her look at the lyrics, and the part she liked I also ended up liking. It’s the phrase “charcoal night grey” in the opening song. I also like the last two lines of the ending song because they represent the entirety of the game.

What was the most memorable interaction you had with the composer Kosemura-san?

He was professional in that every time, he exceed my expectations in what I wanted conveyed. We also spent about a week together (?) during the recording boot camp for the demo songs, and the time I spent sitting next to him and listening to the same songs was surreal. I couldn’t believe the person sitting next to me wrote the songs that I listened to as a student.

I want readers to like Kisa. A cover illustration filled with strong emotions.

On October 9, 2020 on Twitter, you tweeted, “Makin’ games is hard.” What was it you found difficult?

I was given a lot of decision-making authority as a producer, but since I’m a company outsider, I had a hard time making decisions without seeing the actual situation or making choices in areas where I had no insight. It was a tweet vexed from my inability to understand due to lack of experience. I wish I had more power...

What do you want people to pay attention to when they play the demo version?

I’d like people to pay attention to the fact that the art and script were created by very few people (almost two people), much like an indie game. Something like, “Ishida really drew all these characters!” or “Towada-san really wrote all the script!”...there is more to come in the full version.

You drew the cover illustration for this issue of the magazine, but I’d like to hear more details regarding this.

I drew it while reflecting on how lucky I was, like, “I’m really drawing for the magazine I’ve read since I was a kid...!?” I drew both male and female forms for Kisa, in the hopes that people would come to love the main character.

Please leave a message to your fans and readers who are eagerly awaiting the release of this game.

I made it so that players of all ages and genders can enjoy the game. There is a lot more in store besides just the illustrations. I hope you will play it!

#Jack Jeanne #Ishida Sui #translations #the others i will get to next week

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dakarimainink · 3 years ago

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Story Time

WARNING: fluff, cute, angst, awkward, alcohol, stranger meets stranger

Character: Pedro Pascal

Wordcount: 1.8K

Note: Not betad, all mistakes are my own.

Divider by me! 😊

Oh god, please let me know what you think of this. The way of telling it is new to me, but I kind of liked the flow of it. Keep in mind this is told in a vocal language as if I actually tell it to you. Let me know if you liked it or not, any feedback on this is very much welcome.

Okay, let me tell you about the first time I met Pedro Pascal. This was (I believe) right before shooting of GOT season 4. I was, at the time, not a huge TV or movie person, except I actually did watch GOT because it was so huge and my friends kinda got me in to it. And I also watched Breaking Bad, because let’s face it, it’s a brilliant series. Anyways, here is the story of my embarrassing first meeting with Pedro Pascal.

It was a late night in New York. I had been to a comedy club with some friends of mine; laughing our asses off and drinking. Not gonna lie, I don’t remember the comedian (sorry), but I do remember he wore the cleanest pair of white Converse shoes I’ve ever seen on a person. I don't know why I remember that, but yeah.

Now, I had told my friends I would walk home, as I only lived a few blocks down the road. They had insisted on me taking a taxi with them, but I refused. Honestly, I didn't want to waste money on it and I had walked home alone before. Being the stubborn woman I was, they gave up and let me walk. Besides, I sober faster up and avoid a hangover with some fresh air before bed (or at least as fresh air one can get in NYC).

Walking home, I stumbled a little on the slightly uneven sidewalk.

Now let me point out that I am not drunk. I am however tipsy, but not so gone that I am not aware of my surroundings. If someone was to walk up to me, I could easily punch them and run off, if necessary. But I would run with a slight tilt, if you know what I mean. Not that I actually want to punch someone, because I am honestly scared of hurting anyone (raise your hand if you have childhood trauma), but I will for survival.

Anyways. Walking home, the nightlife was booming. I think it was about nine in the evening, so the streets were littered with people either already drunk or going to the club getting drunk. Basically a normal Saturday evening. I did not envy the people bending over a bush, begging for nothing to splash back onto them as they puked their guts out, just to go back into the club and start the process all over again.

Being a woman walking alone that late, in NYC anywhere, you can already imagine the disgusting men catcalling me, throwing comments thinking I would rush to them and beg them to take me then and there.

It honestly baffles me how men actually think those kinds of things work, because newsflash, it doesn't. It's literally disgusting and I have to force myself to not gag and throw up.

So walking home, ignoring the nauseating comments, I passed by the same buildings, stores, clubs and restaurants I had done probably a million times before. I did consider stopping by my favourite burger shop Greasy Joe’s (classic name, am I rite?), but knew my body rather wanted to crash down in bed.

As I was just about two blocks away from my home, I managed to trip on my own feet.

Now I am not a person who often trip over or stumble at all, but for some godforsaken reason, my feet decided that, right outside - what I would call an exclusive restaurant - (mostly because it was too expensive for mere mortals to eat there) I fell to my knees, luckily embracing myself on my hands.

For a moment I froze, my body trying to assess what happened and what the damage was. I remember it felt like needles prickling into the palms of my hands and on my knees. I was just begging I didn’t ruin my jeans as I had recently purchased them. (Jeans are seriously expensive, especially when you are gifted with thighs of a goddess, ready to crush anything coming in-between)

I also remember it felt like the whole world went silent for a moment, as if my hearing was not important as my brain was trying hard to get an overview of my own state.

I heard a male mumble and then a hand appearing in front of my face. Then a little more mumbling until I finally caught some words. “... Help you up.” I instinctively grabbed the hand, supporting myself as it pulled me up.

And again, my legs wanted to be difficult tonight for some reason, so of course my knees gave in - not sure if it was because of the fall or if I just truly had bad fortune that night, or perhaps that I was in fact, more than just tipsy - and I tumbled forward and smacked my head onto what I didn’t realise at first, was a human chest.

I placed my hands onto the torso and carefully pushed back awkwardly. I stared at my hands as I realised what I was pushing against and winced and snapped my hands away from the person in front of me.

I felt my ears and cheeks burn, I mean like, seriously burn so badly it felt like a second degree burn. I looked up to - what I quickly realised was - a man’s face and he seemed to be a bit embarrassed as well, as he was also coloured in his cheeks (definitely not as bad as mine though)

I didn’t recognise him at all, but you can already guess who the person was (Yup, Pedro himself).

What really caught me off guard was his eyes. They were so dark I could actually see my reflection in them. There was also a spark in them due to the yellow lights emitting from the restaurant he had apparently just exited.

We were both kind of frozen and embarrassed and my brain was not going to help me even form a single “thank you” and or “sorry”. Luckily, his brain was working better than mine, so he was the one to speak up first.

“That was quite the fall, are you alright?” He actually seemed worry for my little tumble. I hadn’t even hit my head and he looked down upon me as if I was a hurt child.

I said of course I was fine, I wasn’t really hurt and that I was just on my way home. He asked if I needed a taxi, but of course I didn’t need that, I was just two blocks away from my home, so I politely refused.

He asked if he could escort me the rest of the way, but I told him no, because he was a stranger, but not only a stranger, but a male stranger. He really didn’t want me to walk home alone, but he understood my point of view. He insisted on calling for a taxi, but I told him it would be a waste, as it would probably take longer for the taxi to arrive than me just walking straight home.

As I explained this, I was already kind of backing away from him and towards home. He didn’t push it any further, but I swear I could feel him watch me as I continued to walk away.

However, two doors down, was one of the hottest nightclubs in NYC. Mostly higher middle-class and lower high-class would go there. Especially “kids” with their parents credit cards would go there frequently. (Now I use the word kid, even though they are probably in their early twenties and I am in my mid twenties, but to me, kids because of their behaviour)

As I passed, a self entitled kid with too much alcohol and self esteem approached me - I could smell the alcohol before he reached me - and stopped me in my tracks. I fisted my hands as he tried to push himself onto me, which was quite disgusting by the way. His perfume were oozing off him, and that mixed with the alcohol was making me gag.

He kept asking for my name, if I was down for a good time, if he could buy me a drink, if I wanted to come into the club with him, if he could have my number, if I wanted to go home with him and so on and so forth. I gently pushed him away, which seemed to set something off in him and he began spitting rude comments. Mostly stuff I had heard before come out of a rejected man’s mouth; so nothing new.

He began walking quite widely and wobbly towards me, as if he wanted to pick a fight me. However, half way towards me, he suddenly stopped and I noticed a presence next to me.

You guessed it, it was Pedro again.

He asked the man to stop and waved over the security guard who somehow missed the loud kid.

As soon as the kid was forced away by the guard, I thanked him once more. He turned to walk away, but I called for him (I didn’t know his name, so I casually just said “Hey!”) He turned around and I told him he could walk me home if the offer still stood.

I remember a smile crossed his lips as I told him and he jogged over to me before we strolled towards my block.

As we began our walk, he held out his hand to me and introduced himself and I shook it and told him my first name as well. Now, instead of talking about our jobs or family or whatever, we actually started talking about African animals, more specifically Elephants as we both considered them our favourite animal. We also had a friendly feud about coffee or tea, as I was (and still am) a tea drinker and he was a coffee drinker.

We were in the middle of talking books when I suddenly realised we were standing outside the entrance to my apartment building.

I'm not gonna lie, I was actually feeling a bit disappointed by this, as I had enjoyed our brief walk and conversation. A small part of me wanted to invite him in, just so we could continue our chat. I felt such a friendly vibe from him and knew if I didn’t get to know him now, I would probably never get to.

I had to, unfortunately, decide to end the journey here and smiled while thanking him. What I didn’t realise was my body slowly tilting forward and before I knew it, we were hugging each other. I had no idea why, but I sure as hell didn’t regret it.

Let me tell you, I have never, ever ever since, had a better or warmer hug ever. I seriously mean it, if you ever get the chance to hug this man, do it, because not only will it make you warm and fuzzy, but it seriously made me happy. Like I could feel the weight of the world seep out of my body and a light just burn within me. I am not kidding.

So we said our goodbyes. I unlocked the entrance door, stepped inside and we gave each other one last glance before I walked up the stairs to my floor.

What I didn’t know then, was that I would meet Pedro Pascal again.

(Wanna be added to my tag list for Pedro Pascal and his characters? Let me know and I will happily add you)

@cynic-spirit, @lililolli, @notabotiswear, @sara-alonso, @blankmooon, @xoxo-callie, @mamacitapascal, @thewaythisis, @greeneyedblondie44, @stevie75, @mswarriorbabe80

#Pedro Pascal #first person pov #first person perspective #story time #writing #fluff #embarrassing #awkward #rpf

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bonnienapierfilm · 3 years ago

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film adaptation update + reflection

post production

chapter 1: bonnie and avid - from strangers to friends

The only experience I had before beginning to edit this project, was my old iMovie days, avid online classes [which took place in the fever dream that was first year] and 'Lethe' [if I have to see that girl in a hospital bed ever again, I will cry]. So yeah, little experience. But I have always been keen to try and edit more, so I'm glad I put myself forward for this! And I actually feel a lot more familiar with Avid now... it turns out if you just practice using something you get better at it - who knew?

I started editing scene 8 [the beach scene] first, only because I was so excited to piece together our beautiful clips. I hope to learn more about the theory behind editing - do you have to edit in order or does it not matter? After playing around with scene 8, I edited the film chronologically, which I think is smart? I felt the process was smooth and editing this way aided me in pacing our scenes, but I have time to learn so much more about editing so I do not stress.

I did a lot of recording the screen on my phone to send to the group for feedback. I now have many videos on my phone of a Mac screen and the shushing of a Peer Bear in the background. I did want the group to see what I was working on, but I think I was also doubtful of my work and needed feedback every step. However, the group held my hand and encouraged me along the way, which was greatly appreciated.

After some tubing [of the you kind], I found videos on ratio changing in Avid. I played around with the timing of the change from 4:3 to wide screen [I feel silly, I don't know the numeric size for this?!], and spent ages matching our shot of the beach landscape to Joanna and Sue dancing on the beach. I felt so very professional and proud when I got it right, "look at me go!" my brain chanted.

Overall, I learnt a lot about avid and editing in general over the past month. I definitely want to widen my knowledge and keep practicing.

chapter 2: sunshine, lollipops and rainbows - exporting, colour grade and sound

Export, exporting, exported. I don't think I can say much more more about this. I wasn't present whilst Eva and Katie did the colour grade but they worked their magic, it looked lovely. Particularly making the sky look similar to the landscape, pinks were poppin'. I know it was difficult for Katie to grade the window to make the light match the room but she did a fabulous job.

Now onto sound. My heart goes out to Orla, she worked so hard on the sound edit and it payed off massively. When writing the script, I wanted to provide as many opportunities as possible for Orla to be creative with sound, like having conversations outside the room, hallucinations etc. Our composer, Arina, who we met upon a chance encounter, gave us beautiful music for the film - really bringing it all together. I can't say much about the process, but I know a lot of work was put in and I was delighted to have Orla doing sound.

Katie drew up some fancy credits for us and myself and Orla put them all in. After watching the film over and over and over and over, alas, I was happy to submit for the crit...

reflection

Once again, I was sweating, shaking and shitting it. I get very nervous in our crits... what if no one likes the film? what if my editing ruins it? did I hold on that shot for too long? yes. what if everyones film is so much better? It's a panic I think we all feel. I thoroughly enjoy watching all the films we have made, and I don't doubt everyone feels the same, no competition just cooperation :)

When rewatching on the big screen, I picked up on a few things. I hold on some shots too long and others not long enough, I doubt this is a realisation I could have only made when watching it enlarged, but I hadn't noticed when editing in screen academy. But in the future, I will make sure to get second opinions on the length of shots.

When getting our feedback, I had taken up some paper and a pen to take notes, however due to stress I turned it into a paper aeroplane instead. So from what I remember...

SCRIPT - Kate had complimented by period writing, which I was chuffed about as I have never written a period drama. So my first go wasn't terribly received! :) I think overall, some off my dialogue would have been more effective had they been delivered differently. No hate to our actors!

SOUND - Our levels were a little low, which caused confusion with dialogue and flow. However, this is something that can be easily fixed! So not much stress about this.

LIGHTING - Andrew was impressed with the lighting... well impressed that we had tried to create sunlight without sunlight. I understand the criticism, our lighting was very harsh sometimes. I think that light, especially golden hour, can be that harsh, however as we have clearly tried to recreate it, it doesn't work as well. Maybe putting more baking paper over the lights to dim them would have worked.

CAMERA - Some of our shots were shakey. I knew this when editing, I did try to use a stabiliser however it warped Eva's pretty shots and made them look weird, so I decided against it. With our final landscape scenes, I do remember on the shoot we had went between rig/no rig. I think a tripod could have worked however we were trying to achieve a sort of shakey shot to imitate Joanna's pov. Some of our shots were a bit tight, I think when shooting our close-ups sometimes we forgot that I was also going to be cropping to 4:3.

EDIT - Joe really liked our ratio change, commenting that it followed the period drama vibe. Yay! Andrew mentioned that some shots lingered and some cut short, which I knew and will keep in mind for future projects.

PRODUCTION DESIGN - Our costumes weren't exactly true to the time, however with no budget and little time, I think we did the best we could. The floral bedsheets were brought up, which I was dreading because I had noticed but thought it would be fine. Shoulda said something!

I hope I haven't missed anything.

I agree with everything criticised in the crit. I have learnt so much about filmmaking through The Last Landscape, especially working collaboratively. I liked how our roles were somewhat fluid throughout, we helped each other when it was needed and open to notes/criticism. I actually don't think I'd change anything about our film, other than little hiccups in edit/sound/camerawork. In terms of self-improvement, I will learn more about editing so in future projects I don't feel so worried about it being bad/nonsensical.

I feel a little sad that film adaptation is over. Nothing about the process felt like work, just fun... with maybe a smidge of stress.

I will miss group six [no dix]. You are all very talented women and I could not have asked for a better group to make a gay period drama with <3

+ ben + adam xx

#film adaptation

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fafulous · 4 years ago

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Take Me Home (2/5)

Andy Barber x Reader (Post!Defending Jacob)

Summary: After the unfortunate events of the trial and after, a depressed Andy Barber decides to call it quits and start a mundane life far away from Newton. He decides it is best to have a fresh start away from prying eyes and alone, but he never thought his caring neighbor (and her son) would change all of that.

Themes: MAJOR D.J. SPOILERS ((The series is following the BOOK ENDING and not Show)), Sad and soft Andy Barber, Single Mother Reader. Cursing.

a/n: I dedicate this chapter to my LOML @sinner-as-saint. Happy Birthday Darling! ILY!

Part 1

Warnings: Small Hints of Abuse.

—

It was your full day shift at the library

You still couldn’t stop thinking about that horrid graffiti left out on Andrew’s Garage door. Why would anyone write something so horrific? It is never a common occurrence to accuse someone of being a murderer; Besides, you didn’t even truly know who the man was.

In one of your breaks while sipping on your hot cocoa, your curiosity got the best of you and googled about him. Those amateur press reporters wouldn’t crowd around a random vandalism; you knew something was up.

To your dismay, you came across terrifying articles of his family. Specifically, about his son.

You read about how Andrew Barber, the Local district attorney of the Newton County was found to be tangled in a murder case because of his son. You didn’t bother to read further for the headlines were awful; described how his 14-year-old son was in trial for the murder of his own classmate.

The details were too horrifying. The press reported every court proceeding but you didn’t proceed to read about what happened. Perhaps his son went to jail? Or he was declared not guilty but was separated from his family? You thought how a good handful of weeks passed and he had absolutely no visitors to his house. Best decision you made was to close the articles for it made you sick to the stomach.

Not only did it feel like you were invading on someone’s privacy, it was also not difficult to picture your son in Jacob Barber’s shoes.

You felt bad for the man, you really did. But then you recalled how he questioned your parenting. It takes years to build self-confidence, but just one statement to shatter it all.

It didn’t feel right reading about your neighbour, it felt like you were a stalker. And so, you resumed to stock up and label the new pile of books.

The Librarian desk was placed in such a way that you would immediately know if anyone entered the library. It would normally be teenagers and college go-ers labelled as nerds who would spend hours and hours of studying and reading. But this time, the one approaching your desk was the last person you ever wanted to see.

Nikolai’s father.

A week ago, Chad did make an appearance into your life out of the blue, asking you to take him back. But you couldn’t for you believed in two things: Your self-respect wasn’t weak, and that Nikolai didn’t deserve a pathetic excuse of a father. After you found out about his infidelity, you mentally decided not to take him back and that was a final decision.

You dropped whatever you were doing and made a beeline to Chad. “You can’t drop in during work like this.”

Quarter of an hour perhaps was spent on arguing back and forth in whispers. You will never deny that how it would be perfect for Nikolai to grow up with a father, but you kept reminding yourself not to give in to him.

“Listen Y/N. I really am sorry for barging like you on this. I want to make things right. “

“You can’t Chad,” you whispered, “I can’t. It is not fair to Nikolai and to me. Just go.”

Chad suddenly pushed you back to one of the bookshelves by gripping your shoulders. His shoulder touches were something that he used to do to offer you comfort at times of distress. But now this was causing you stress.

He gritted his teeth. “Why can’t you just fucking take me back?”

“Because I wasn’t the one who slipped into my co-worker’s vagina!”

Before you realised Chad was going to get unpleasant with you, another familiar voice interrupted the small run-in.

“Hey everything alright?”

You turned around to the stern voice only to see your neighbour, Andrew. You were fixated on him to the point where you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

He looked so handsome.

He was wearing a formal dark navy suit, his tie almost matching his hair colour. His hair and beard were neatly groomed with just a hint of messy. His beautiful trench coat accentuated his arm muscles. He did look like a textbook District Attorney.

Andy on the other hand exchanged looks between the both of you, glaring at the man who dare pushed you back against the bookshelf. He got near to them which made Chad leave his grip and take a few steps away from her.

Chad continued the conversation with you without acknowledging the intruder’s existence. “I’m going to leave now. Think about it. I’ll come in a few days to pick up Nikolai.” He soon left, making sure he didn’t make eye contact with the formal dude who seemed to be much taller to him.

Andy approached you cautiously while your hand pressed the wrinkles off of your shoulders. “Couldn’t help but hearing the whole co-worker slipping into your vagina statement. That man your ex?”

Dealing with two arrogant men simultaneously was not something you signed up today. “Be careful Mr. Barber, the attorney in you is showing.”

Andy stiffened his shoulders but did not let go of his grin. He liked a woman who was snappy, especially when he has seen the caring side of you. “So, you know about me?”

“I can take care of myself,” deflecting from his question. You didn’t want to admit about your slip up that you read about him from an online article. “You didn’t have to do that whole saviour stunt on me Mr. Barber,” you walked away from him, heading outside the library to catch a breath of fresh air. Andy followed you like a puppy would.

“You didn’t have to do it alone too, Miss”

You noticed how he didn’t call you formally. “Andrew, I told you I-I am never going to have a conversation with you ever.”

“I know I know.” He paused and you crossed your arms, waiting for him to say something while you admired the beauty of his trench coat on his frame.

“I need to talk to you.”

“I’m busy. M-my shift ends in an hour.”

“I can wait.”

“No Andrew, my car is in the repairs and I’m bailing on my assistant to drop me home-“

“I can drop you. We literally live next to each other. Please Y/N,” He neared you, anxiously looking over at you, “Give me this tiny speck of a chance.”

You stood there trying to pull off a stern look, trying so hard not to display you inhaling his musky cologne that made you excited. Who would’ve thought you would fall for a meanie who just had a pair of needy, blue eyes?

“Alright fine,” you said giving in. “Read a book or something inside.”

Andy was happy at his sweet victory.

In that time Andy decided to look through the well-ventilated library. It was quite spacious, his senses hitting with the smell of old books and natural pesticides to keep the books from deteriorating. There were enough tables for people to sit and read at their leisure. He even recognized familiar books he used to read with Laurie every night. It was an intimate ritual for them; so eventually for the past few months, he gave up on reading.

Andy then noticed you scuttling around for a while till you plopped on your desk. Your work attire was silk white blouse with a yellow pencil skirt. There was a strut of confidence every time you took a step or gave orders to her assistant.

Neither of you would deny the lingering glances you gave each other in that time.

An hour passed and both of you stood outside near his beautiful black car.

“What is it Andrew?”

“I wanted to sincerely apologize to you. This is not right I know. I know I’ve hurt your feelings and this apology doesn’t even cover it. I stepped out of line many times even though you remained to be kind to me.”

You puffed out a breath of air. Judging by the tone of his voice, you knew the man before you were being sincere.

“Just let me make it up to you one day at a time please. It would kill me if I didn’t do anything.”

“Y-you don’t have to anything Mr. Barber. Its just-“

“I know take your time. I hope we could hit the refresh button excluding the part where I make it up to you.”

“Yeah no um- I also owe you another thanks for helping back at the Library- uh Chad? The bloke you interrupted me with?”

Andy nodded. “It was nothing really. So, can we start fresh?” He extended his hand to you and a firm handshake was exchanged.

“Apology accepted I suppose.”

Soon you found yourself in Andy’s car, who was kind to even open the door for you. Chivalry isn’t dead.

For now.

The ride back was quiet, you observing in the interiors of the sleek black car. The seat felt so comfortable, along with the man beside you. A comfortable silence prevailed the drive back home, Andy popping in superficial questions about your work and Nikolai and vice versa.

“So any plans for tonight?”

“Nikolai wanted to watch a Disney movie tonight with some Chicken Lasagne. Oddly, specific I know but kids these days, right?”

“Yeah.” You noticed how his face fell slightly and so you tried to change the topic. “What about you?”

“The usual. Netflix and Takeout. Trying to cut on the beer though you know with the new job and all.”

“Thanks for the drive back home Mr. Barber.”

He took this as a good sign. “From now on you can call me Andy.”

“Listen Mr. Barber- Andy I have to get something off of my chest. “

Andy unbuckled his seat belt and faced you, unsure of what she wanted to say. “Sure please, go ahead.”

“Okay Andy. I just want to clear the air that only know about you as an attorney because my curiosity irked me after your whole garage shed incident. I didn’t dig much because I felt like the inner me was being like a creep.”

He raised his eyebrows heart slightly sinking that you had already become the judge of his character. “So, you do know about me then?”

“Not more than how your son was involved in a murder trial,” you fumbled. “I don’t know the outcome and I don’t know why I am telling you all of this oh my god.”

Andy chuckled to see you covering your face in embarrassment, feeling a little relieved to know that you didn’t have much of an idea of who he was. He reassured her that it was completely fine, and you saw you going back home.

The next couple of days went smoother for both you and Andy. After a week it seems you and Andy always left home for work at the same time, passing casual morning greetings…which you had to do by successfully covering your blush because he never failed to look nothing less than good looking even though he was now just a swimming instructor.

Andy told you that day he apologized to you at the library was the day when he gave in an interview for the Swimming Instructor position opened at the community gym. He said it was something he used to do in his free time, and he wanted to give it a shot

You weren’t even surprised to find your mind in the gutter when you thought about Andy in skin-fit Speedos that stuck to his thick thighs and broad back. Or would he just wear trunks? You smacked your head; this what happens when the last time you got laid was two years back…

No offense to your expensive vibrator.

Andy would drop you to work if you didn’t feel like it and pick you up too. He even would take Nikolai alone for car rides which he enjoyed.

“Mommy! Wandi car go zooooom!”

He once popped into the library telling you that he would like to be a member. You would have never thought that this man was a bookworm. He soon told you how he used to have a habit of reading a book every night and now that he wants to revive it.

Normally for new inquisitive children or young adults who wanted recommendations to begin the practice of reading was handled by your assistant, Tracy. You weren’t surprised when Tracy was almost proactive when she saw Andy. But to the utter dismay of your assistant, Andy wanted to hear it from you.

Its not like you won a battle with your assistant, but you happily concurred with you head held high. He wants me. (You smacked yourself mentally again, jealousy is an ugly stain).

“How do I know you’re not bluffing Andy?” you whispered.

“Hey hey,” he leaned nearer to your ears. “I’m new to this place and I want a couple of books and recommendations that’s all. It can get lonely at home sometimes.”

As Andy and you spoke over books, you saw he had no shred of the hostility he had in these past few weeks. Andy also noticed how you looked much more comfortable than you were initially. For the both of you a new friendship was blooming.

For now.

“What kind of books are you into Mr. Barber?”

“Well I was the thriller and mystery kind, but things have changed, looking for a change rather. Nothing old sticks on to me now.”

“Ah yes. Every reader has that phase and I have just the solution.”

He was almost puzzled when you took him to the young adults section and handed over two books or rather two parts of a beautiful story.

“Harry Potter? Isn’t that a children’s book?”

“Objection your honour!” You went on to tell him the premise of the books without spoiling much for him. It suddenly struck him that Jacob had these books at home too. But he was able to push the twinge away when he hears your sweet whispers of excitement. He did complain he has watched the movies but the bookworm in him knew that books are always better than the movies.

“Okay okay! Objection is sustained.” He laughs. A genuine laughter after what seemed like eons.

You didn’t want the conversation to end. It felt refreshing to talk to Andy and so you felt generous.

“You can drop the usual food takeout today yeah? When was the last time you had home cooked meal?

Andy thought for a while. “An awfully long time Y/N. It’s okay-“

“Dinner is at my house. No excuses.”

Andy found a little purpose to be excited in life.

–

On Mondays, Andy comes home with a bottle of wine to beat the heat of a horrid Monday morning.

On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Andy flaunts his cooking skills to you and Nikolai. Surprisingly, he has not lost his touch over cooking. He loved it how the little boy gets the food names all jumbled up and how, much to your embarrassment, he would ask him for food requests. Can we have Pawsta and bwed? Or Can we have spwagety?

Wednesdays and Fridays, Andy chilled out on your sofa having a tea party or fighting an alien invasion with Nikolai while you effortlessly cooked to your delight.

It’s almost become a ritual over as the weeks go by. Andy and you talk a lot, but never about each other. Both of you talk about books, or debate over politics or even talk about movies.

It was in these nights when both of you unintentionally spills the beans of your past.

First was Andy when was discussing about how he loved the Harry Potter books you suggested that the waterfall of backstories began. After dinner got over both of you sat on your couch talking about the day’s work, while Nikolai fiddled with toys on the cushioned chair. He mentioned how Jacob had these books.

“Who is Jacob?”

Andy looked ahead at Nikolai sitting at one of the comfort chairs with a couple of his figurines while his eyes fought with slumber, “My son.”

“Oh, how is he? Is he with his mother now?”

Maybe it was too soon to ask. You literally saw with your own eyes how Andy’s eyes drooped, and his figure slumped before you. It even became confusing when he shook his head slightly sideways.

Realising you may have overstepped a line, you tried to steer the conversation to another direction, but Andy blurted it out as if he needed to remind himself the truth.

“Jacob died in a car accident and his mother is in prison for the very same.”

Whispering a oh my god underneath your breath while covering your mouth didn’t stop your eyes from pricking with tears.

Andy narrated the events of the trial briefly while he grabbed the bottle of wine drinking from it directly, not getting in too detail. He mentioned how his son was dropped of all the charges and how after one vacation, everything changed. He mentioned how his now ex-wife successfully attempted to kill Jacob in a car crash because she was convinced that her son was the actual murderer.

Andy was numb to this story (the kinder version where you didn’t know he was the son of the murderer Billy Barber) and he didn’t realise the kind of reaction it would evoke from someone who had no idea about his past. Guess he was surrounded with nosy people all his life until now.

He internally panicked to you see your tearful state.

“Andy I’m so sorry.”

In an instinct you pulled Andy to you, arms wrapped around his shoulders in a hug. Andy needed a hug so bad he may have wrapped his arms around you an inch closer while he rubbed your back in assurance. He heard your small sniffles, which made him hug you tighter.

His hoarse reassuring whispers that he was alright made you even more devastated. “Hey look Y/N. I am alright okay?”

You pulled away from his embrace in embarrassment. Andy’s heart was hard as a rock, he gave you a half-hearted smile, “God I’m such a fool sometimes. Quick to come to conclusions. I shouldn’t have been so judgmental.”

“If you’re forgetting that was me a couple of weeks back.” His gently touched your cheeks wiping a tear or two away. “Hey come on now. Tears don’t suit you momma bear.”

“So, I’m a bear now huh?”

A little giggle came out of your lips and Andy felt warm. Your mind was fluttering as Andy still stroked your cheek with his thumb. You never realised could be so soothing until a worried Nikolai tried to scramble up on both of your laps.

“Mommy why you cwying?”

“Nothing peaches. Its just-“

“I ate your mommy’s cookies Nikolai,” Andy interrupted earning a dramatic gasp from the little boy while you stifled your laughter.

“Its okay Wandi. Mommy you can take the cookies fwom my jahr. Don’t cwy mommy”

After a series of awws from the two adults, Nikolai went back to his toys. It was time for Andy to leave, standing on the threshold of your house.

“This fresh start is not happening for me at all Y/N. You have been such a wonderful person entertaining me these nights but, I still can’t sleep you know. It’s haunting.”

“Andy,” you still sniffed. “The minute the garage incident was over, that was the minute you stepped away from prying eyes. No one is going to bother you now Andy. You can start fres, infact I think you already did. You bagged a Swimming Instructor shift at the local gym, you have got a new house and most importantly, or not, is that you have Nikolai and Me.

“We all have skeletons in our closet Andy, that’s the unfortunate truth. Its not going to be easy but life has to go on because little do you know you have people depending on you.”

Andy knew you were referring to Nikolai, but for him he had no one depending on him. What was the point of moving on?

“Good night Y/N”

He only left the threshold after he realised you had placed a kiss on his cheek and gave him a hug on your tiptoes.

Another night, it was your turn.

Andy soon realised Nikolai wasn’t anywhere around the house. The toys were neatly placed, and the Television wasn’t running. Music was playing from your phone, but it was low and from the smell of it, you were cooking Chicken Lasagne, Nikolai’s favourite dish.

“Where is Niko? Is he sleeping?”

“He is with his father and the grandparents.”

The dinner went awfully quiet, sure he tried to sneak conversations here and there, but he wasn’t able to hold it. He learned how you decided to actually listen to Chad’s wishes under the conditions that his grandparents would be around. Andy saw your little smile when he learned that Nikolai was extremely reluctant to go with his father. A rational side of you didn’t want to separate Nikolai from his father.

It was while you were flipping through the channels that you broke out like a dam.

“You know Andy, what you heard that day in the library was the truth you know.”

“Niko’s father Chad?”

“It was Nikolai’s first birthday. We were all gathered at home for a small birthday party. Chad and I called in our co-workers that day. In the name of this little one everyone began drinking by around four when we scheduled the party at six.”

Andy noticed how you sardonically laughed in between.

“Before we could cut the cake, I went in search of Chad because Niko wouldn’t cut the cake without him. So, I went around searching for him because I remember Chad was kind of drunk. And then I find him in our room fucking his co-worker while he screamed her name.”

You looked below and began fidgeting with your fingernails. “The next half an hour went in a haze. The guests left. Chad and I went hysteric. We were at each other’s throat. I screamed at him and Chad somehow became sober and began to um- hit me uhm-“

You were breaking and Andy didn’t want to ask you to stop narrating. You must have trusted him enough to talk about something that you evidently found traumatic. Andy scooted closer and took your palms in his hands.

“And I didn’t even realise how I was scarring Niko. He was sitting on the couch all alone scared at our hysterics. In that half hour I- I- forgot about him. The guests were gone, and he didn’t cry. Niko just sat there with his beady eyes clutching his figurines, looking at me in horror after that bastard went up to his room like nothing mattered. I’m the reason for Nikolai’s state.”

“Hey what state Y/N?” Andy stroked your cheek; the lines of formality were blurred between you two. Right now, it was just one soul comforting another in a time of agony. “Nikolai is such perfect child. I have never seen such a brilliant three-year-old in my life.”

You whimpered, “N-Niko hates birthdays. The sight of candles on a cake make him cry and disturbed. H-his nursery is left incomplete because he has these terrible nightmares when he is left alone. He comes crying in horror even if I try to let him sleep alone for once. He always sleeps with me. W-what if I damaged him Andy? Wh-what if he likes his father more in this visit? What if he leaves me?”

You sobbed uncontrollably into Andy’s chest. He didn’t hesitate in cradling you and stroking your hair. He pulled you closer, leaning back at the couch. He waited for your crying to die down.

“You’re such an amazing mother darling,” he whispered, the loving nickname going unnoticed because it seemed so right, “So caring, so kind. Nikolai loves you, you know that right?”

He felt you nodding your head at his chest while none of you bothered to acknowledge how both of your legs were intertwined now. Andy scooted lower on the sofa, lying down with you still cradled to him.

“Chad was a fucking scoundrel okay? Anybody would have reacted like that like you did.” Andy gritted his teeth when he recalled that he hit you but suppressed his emotions because his emotions wasn’t important now. “Nikolai is going to be simply fine. When he comes back, he’s going to run into your arms and say how much he missed you and then proceed to ransack the living room with his toys.”

That genuinely made you laugh. You didn’t want to let go of Andy. His cologne was calming. His sweater shirt was soft. You even felt his little belly; he did mention he was drinking a lot of beer and whiskey when he can’t sleep in the night. It felt so intimate; it felt so right in spite the fact the neither of you are dating.

“You’re a good man Andy.”

Andy places a chaste kiss on your forehead. He saw your cheeks scrunch up, like you were blushing. His lips felt soft on your forehead, a warmth running through the both of you. Andy decided to leave but your grip on his meant something else. Looking down, he felt your soft breaths on his neck now for you tucked your head on his neck. You must be clingy he wondered, but he didn’t mind. He needed a dose of clingy looking at his current state of life.

“Good Night Y/N.”

He was supposed to get up slowly and untangle from your limbs and spread a blanket on you before he left. He was supposed to go back inside his house and have another round of sleepless nights.

Not cuddle and have a good night’s sleep peacefully with you in your soft sofa?

–

Finally, Saturdays and Sundays are the lazy days, ironically both of you don’t hang out as much on the weekends for deep inside Andy thought he was invading Nikolai and yours family time.

When Nikolai was back the next day, just like Andy had mentioned, he ran into your arms and kissed you so much. He even hugged you harder and said he didn’t want to go back to his father.

“He’s not like Wandi. Wandi likes tea pawties. Papa says tea pawties is for guhls and not for boys.”

“Peaches that’s not true, you can play tea party any time you want. You can play with me and Andy okay?”

“Yeah okay. Can we play tea pawty inside Wandi’s cahr too?”

“Niko!”

Your little boy also managed to change your mother-son ritual into a mother-son-neighbour ritual. He persisted you into calling Andy for the everyday evening picnic at the lawn. You knew your son loved Andy but a little voice asked if this was too much.

Apparently it wasn’t. Andy was extremely happy to join you and Nikolai. He kept asking if it was okay but a few reassurances later Andy joined you with a jar of lemonade. “I may have peaked out of the window and seen your daily picnics. None of them have this baby.” (Of course he was talking about his lemonade).

“Mommi look, Wandi made lemonade! Yaaaay!”

He runs over and hugs Andy as tight as his little hands can.

“I bake this boy five types of cookies and he falls for your lemonade? Blasphemy Andy. What are you doing to my son?” you ask him with feigned wound in your heart.

“Oh Y/N. He’s just found a new friend. Don’t be jealous now.”

Seeing your son and Andy bond made you heart make a little small wish; that Niko and you find a companion like Andy. Wishing for Andy himself is like wishing for a star. Why would this perfect man fall for a broken person like you?

Andy and you spoke while the little boy ran around the lawn with his toys and it was then his senses came alive and he took in his surroundings.

A pink stained sky; clouds imitating to be cotton candy. A beautiful house in a quaint neighbourhood. The faint smell of your warm cookies and refreshing lemonade while your son ran around. A woman of his dreams weaving her palm through the strands of her hair. This was a dreamland.

And in that moment, he scooted near you and he entwined his hands into yours. You were perplexed at what he was doing but you went with the flow. He wanted his utopia.

“Andy? What are you-“

“Y/N, will you go on a date with me?”

After a few minutes later, your answer gave all the reassurance that he finally got his fresh start; that he can finally start a new life without the demons in the closet.

Right?

–

Part 3

–

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#Andy Barber #Defending Jacob #Andy Barber x reader #Andy Barber Imagines #Chris Evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans imagine #defending jacob spoilers #andy barber smut #andy barber fluff #andy barber angst #chris evans x you #andy barber imagine #defending jacob finale #andrew barber #jacob barber

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peach-the-owl · 4 years ago

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Of a Kind Sol

Pumat Sol & Child!Reader

Request: Our favourite enchanter Pumat Sol and his arcane copies because who doesn't love them? Only crazy people. So a kid, maybe into their teens, coming into the shop and asking to learn from him how to enchant stuff and become his apprentice and later on he finds out they have nobody.

Child is a bit of a loose term for this because the reader is about 12-13 years old. I regret nothing, anyways enjoy! 😁

The Invulnerable Vagrant a humble little shop located in the city of Zadash, you walk up to the shop, adjust your cloths to look a little more presentable and take a deep breath before making your way inside. The first thing you notice upon your entry is the two identical employees walking around stocking up items and rearranging them, the third one manning the counter also looked the exact same, it was almost intimidating.

"Well hey there, what can I do for a youngin' like yourself today?" The firbolg at the counter asks kindly.

"Umm, h-hello, my name's (y/n)." You say a little shakily holding out your hand, the firbolg returns the handshake.

"A pleasure to meet you (y/n), I am Enchanter Pumat Sol." He greets you back.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you too. Uhh… well… I had a question I’d like to ask." You put on as confident a smile as you could muster.

"And I’d be happy to answer any questions you have, respectfully. What’s your question." He gives you a patient look. You take another deep breath to psych yourself up.

"I was wondering if you were looking for anyone to help with the shop? I’m really interested in learning about enchantment." You give him a hopeful look, he leans back placing a hand on his chin in thought before looking at you again.

"So you’re interested in enchantment eh? Well that’s a question I’ll have to talk to Pumat prime about."

"Pumat prime?" You give a questioning look.

"Yes, you see myself and the other two over there," he points to the other firbolgs running around. "We're what you’d call magical manifestations created to aid the original in his work." He explains to you.

"So you're not the real Pumat Sol, just a copy to help around the shop?" You try to hide the nervousness in your voice at the revelation.

"More or less. Now you wait here just a moment, I’ll be right back." With that he gets up and disappears behind a curtain leaving you to stand there, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. After a minute he returns with who you’d assume to be the original Pumat Sol, who removes his goggles to get a better look at you.

"So you’re interested in enchantment I hear?" He asks same question as the other had.

"I am, I’ve always been interested in the ways of enchantment but I’ve never really been able to learn it for myself." You brighten up.

"Well…" he thinks for a moment, "that is, respectfully, a fine offer. I already have a lot of hands helping with the shop though." You start to deflate a little. "However, it would be nice having someone else helping me with enchantments." You perk up again.

"So I have the job?" You ask eagerly.

"As long as it’s alright with your parents-"

"Yes! Yes, of course it is." You quickly lie, cutting him off. He stares at you but smiles regardless.

"Well alrighty then, we can get started right now if you'd like, respectfully." You just nod. "Keep up the good work me." He tells the copies before he takes you back behind the curtain to his little workshop area to start your training.

For the next few weeks you’d come to the shop bright and early to learn and hone in on your enchantment skills, which you pick up on rather quickly, helping with projects and making a few small items of your own, at the end of the day you’d get your share of money and head "home" to start the day anew tomorrow. You even got your own work apron and pair of goggles. To make things easier on yourself working with four of the same guy you gave the arcane copies nicknames, Matty, Sol, and Puma respectfully, they all seemed to like the little nicknames from you so that was how you’d refer to them from then on. How could you tell who was who? Simple, you made little enchanted name tags with the help of Pumat. One day a set of new adventurers hobbled into the shop, you only being made aware of this when Matty came into the workshop with a request for something to be made prettier.

"Do you wanna handle this one (y/n)?" Pumat asks.

"Me? Really!" Your eyes sparkle with excitement.

"Why not, you’ve made great progress and it’s good practice." You get up and follow Matty through the curtain where you see the previously mentioned adventurers. They all take quick notice of you.

"Hold on a moment. Didn’t you say the forth one's in the back?" The half-orc questions.

"I'm actually his apprentice." You say with a large, proud smile. You see the red-head give an amused side look but decide to ignore it. "Anyways, I was called to make something pretty?"

"Yes!" The blue tiefling pipes in, showing the Fantastic Haversack. "See I’m going to be wearing it and I want it to match my outfit…" While she’s say all this you try to think of what to do, coming to a rather quick and obvious solution.

"What’s your favourite colour?" You ask.

"Pink!" She replies, without missing a beat. You wave your hands around, muttering a few arcane words and watch the bag simmer turning a bright pink. "Ahhh! It’s beautiful! 200 gold, here you go." The tiefling happily exclaims, handing you a bag of gold.

"You’re welcome miss…" You pause realizing you didn’t know her name, she catches on.

"I’m Jester." She greets properly.

"I’m (y/n). Nice meeting you Jester." You greet back. "Keep up the good work Pumats." You then turn to retreat back behind the curtain with a few "thank you's" and make your way back into the workshop.

"Hey uh (y/n), one more thing, you got a request for more of those little explosive spikes you made from a little goblin girl." Puma pokes his head into the workshop to inform you.

"Wait, someone actually wants more of those? But they aren’t very strong." You were surprised anyone was interested in something you made seeing as all the bigger and cooler enchantments were Pumat's doing.

"They said something about them being perfect for arrows." Puma explains.

"Oh! Umm, ok. How many are they asking for?"

"Fifty."

"Fifty! Wow, I got a lot of work to do then, it’s gonna take me a while. Thanks Puma." You give him a smile that he returns then leaves to help finish up with the costumers.

Some time went by, you continued your usual routine showing up early, working throughout the day and carefully returning "home" with a nice bag of coin for meals, all was well… until it wasn’t. One evening you were a little too confident in yourself and got a little careless, not checking for any thugs or muggers while turning down an alleyway like you usually do. You were just walking along merrily when you bumped into someone.

"Well, well. That sure sounds like a awful lot of coin for a street rat." A rather stocky dwarven man chuckles darkly. You take a few steps back towards where you’d entered but stop when you hear someone approach from behind, a tall lanky man blocked your exit pulling out a dagger. You started to panic, as much as you’d like to cast something to aid yourself, you left your spellbook and components for said spells back at the shop leaving you defenceless. You tried to dart past the dwarf hoping to loose the two further into the alleyway, what you didn’t count on was the dwarf to be nimbler then he appeared. You’re grabbed by the collar of your shirt and slammed against a wall, effectively knocking the air out of you and before you can push yourself up off the ground you feel a harsh kick to your side and a sharp pain in your arm. You try to scream for help but again before you can react your head is slammed hard against the ground leaving your vision blurry before completely blacking out…

You awaken with a feeling of slitting pain in your head and your entire body aching, slowly pushing yourself off the ground into a sitting position proving to even be a difficult task. Once you get a better look at yourself you can see a few cuts on your arms from the dagger the lanky man had used and you were covered in bruises, you reach a hand up to where your head was throbbing the most only to flinch away from the intense pain. You stare at your hand seeing it covered in your own blood, taking proper note that you were in fact surrounded by a small puddle of your own blood. You were surprised you even managed to regain consciousness, regardless your vision was still blurry and you needed medical attention, soon. You didn’t have any coin or items on you anymore leaving only one location for you to get help, a part of you dreading the idea but deep down you knew it was only a matter of time before you’d have to deal with the consequences of telling the truth. Shakily you get yourself to stand and hobble your way out of the alleyway towards your destination, looking to the sky you could estimate that it must’ve been close to late morning, early afternoon by now. You approach the door and with what little strength you had left you open the door and stumble into the shop.

"Welcome to the Invulnerable- Oh my goodness! (Y/n), what happened!?" You teeter and before you fall to the ground you feel a set of gentle hands catch you, then a second set of hands help to bring you to the back. After a few minutes your able to regain your focus back, seeing Matty and Sol on either side of you both with identically concerned looks on their faces.

"Here you are, this'll help fix you up." Sol hands you a greater healing potion which you waste no time in using to help ease away the lingering pain and get rid of bruises that weren’t covered by bandages. At this time Pumat walks in and gives a small nod to the other two.

"I’ll take it from here fellas." He tells them. They get up, Matty giving you one more gentle pat on the shoulder, and head back to the front leaving you alone with Pumat. "Care to tell me what happened?" He starts slowly and calmly.

"I umm, got mugged by some dwarf and lanky man in an alleyway." You say quietly.

"Now why were you in an alleyway so late, you should’ve been home with your parents." You let out a sad sigh and turn away from him a little. "(Y/n)?" You stay quiet but give a quick side glance. "I think I deserve an explanation here." He uses a more stern voice this time making you look over at him, despite the tone you could see genuine worry written on his face.

"I-I lied about my parents agreeing to this, because the truth is I don’t have any. I was left here all alone a few years ago, nobody came for me and I was forced to live on the streets. I meant to say something sooner, but I was scared…" You trail off a bit, feeling tears prick at the edges of your eyes.

"What could you be scared of, if you don’t mind me asking."

"I was scared you wouldn’t accept a dirty street rat. For so long I wanted to belong somewhere, but I was always turned away. I thought if I lied about myself you would accept me as an apprentice, but I wasn’t lying about learning enchantment I really do like it. I just didn’t want to be turned away again." By now you were sobbing, a stream of tears flowing down your face, your eyes turning red and puffy in the process. "I don’t want to be turned away again, please don’t be mad." You finish quietly through your sobs. There’s a pause before you feel yourself being pulled into a gentle, comforting hug. You stay in the hug for who knows and who cares how long until you finally pull away.

"Believe it or not, but I get it. I didn’t really fit in when I was about your age either." Pumat confesses, you look at him confused and he just gives you a kind smile. "I mean, do you see any other firbolgs that live here. I think not." You give a small giggle at that. "Now why don’t you take the rest of the day off, head on upstairs and get yourself some rest, you can use my room for now. I can handle myself just fine."

"Really? You’re sure it’s ok?" You give a curious look.

"It’s fine, I’ll get one of the others to help clear out our spare room for you to stay in later." You blink a couple of times to process what was just said.

"Wait, stay in? Like, live here?" You ask, wanting to know if you’d heard correctly or if you were hallucinating.

"Well of course! I can’t have my favourite apprentice sleeping in the streets, I’d worry too much knowing you might get mugged again or worse. It's real bad for the health." He states sorta matter-of-factly. You break out into a large smile at this.

"That is, respectfully, a very generous offer." You say with a playful bow. "Thank you. For everything." You continue more seriously this time.

"It is my humble pleasure." He gives you a nod. "Now go on, you need to rest and recover." You give him one more hug which he happily returns before heading up for that much needed rest.

I stayed up way later then I thought to finish this…… worth it

#critical role #critical role & reader #mighty nein #the mighty nein #pumat sol #pumat sol & reader #npc appreciation month #nothing romantic here

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anavkourfic · 4 years ago

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here’s an excerpt from the scrapped first chapter of no place for firestarters! the only issue with it is that it’s in the wrong pov—originally, i wanted to write this story as switching between lio and galo’s points of view and started out with a galo chapter, then decided to make everything in lio’s pov, rendering this chapter in its current form unusable.

anyway, here it is!

***

Galo works forty-eight hours straight after the Parnassus falls.

It’s a whirlwind. Galo barely has time to give Lio a celebratory fistbump before they leap into rescue operations. The crew splits up: Remi, Varys, and Lucia go out into the city to do search and rescue on the crash site; Galo, Aina, Ignis, and Lio stay in the cire to get the Burnish out of the Promatech pods. They free Lio’s generals first, both of whom hug him so tightly Galo’s surprised his spine doesn’t snap, then move on from there.

Galo learns a lot of things in this process: that the burnish all seem to know and care deeply about Lio, that the pods weren’t designed to be reopened, that even though Heris Ardebeit is helping them with the rescue effort, she still can’t see what she’d done wrong. Ignis eventually escorts her elsewhere, out of range of Lio, Galo, and Aina’s combined fury.

Though, that fury is nothing compared to the look in Lio’s eyes when they get to the first empty pod.

Galo thinks at first that someone has already emptied this one—they have civilian EMTs helping as well, spread out through the engine to cover as much ground as possible—until he sees that the arm and leg cuffs are still closed and intact. They’re thick, so it usually takes monster bolt cutters or the jaws of life to cut them, but these haven’t been touched. It doesn’t make sense, unless someone managed to slip free. Which, also difficult, since the cuffs have been tight enough that it’s hard to clip them without also cutting the person they’re trying to free.

“Did they put in empty pods?” he says, scratching the side of his head. The generator behind them sputters, echoing along with the many others in the cavernous space. “It doesn’t look like there’s anyone–“

“Stop.”

Lio’s voice is sharp, and Galo stops immediately. He sees that Lio’s looking down at the floor of the pod and—oh. Oh. There’s a pile of ash on the floor. Galo’s mind goes back to the cave, to Thyma, and oh. Shit.

“Serial numbers,” Lio barks, whirling around to where Aina’s helping a Burnish to the stairs of the scaffolding “Do the pods have them?”

Aina balks for a second [Galo would too in her position; Lio looks almost like he did with the dragon, minus the colour palette change and the flaming hair.] but she says, “I’ll ask Heris. She’s in medical, and I’m headed there anyway.”

“I d-didn’t see anything,” the Burnish says. She doesn’t look that much older than Lio, but Galo has no concept of how the Burnish age; they could be twenty, or sixty. “Sorry, boss.”

Lio’s expression immediately softens. “It’s alright, Alexis, I wouldn’t have expected you to.”

“I want to help,” she insists. Galo notices her legs are trembling; she’s on the verge of collapsing, but she’s still giving Lio a fierce stare. “Please, I want to help–“

“You need to recover first,” Lio shuts her down. “Talk to me again when you’ve gotten some sleep and you’ve eaten something.”

Alexis gives him a noodley salute, and then Aina helps her down the stairs. Lio watches her go, then turns to the pod again. His hands clench into fists.

"Do you need me to get something to write stuff down with?" Galo asks tentatively. "If there are numbers. Or anything else?"

Lio doesn't respond for a long moment, but then he nods once, and Galo runs off.

It sucks. There's probably a stronger word for it, but Galo's brain is too foggy to come up with something more eloquent. So he just mutters, "This sucks. This fucking sucks," as he looks for a notepad.

The pods do have numbers; Heris says they're "for inventory" [Lio's jaw clenches so tightly Galo hears it click shut] and that there's "subject data for each one." Lio logs each number in a pocket-sized notebook, strings strands of caution tape that Galo found in the back of Burning Rescue's truck across the entrance to each pod, to make sure no one tries to step in.

"We need....urns, or something," Galo says to Ignis, when he's taking a water break and explaining the situation."Lio keeps talking about a mass grave, but I can tell he doesn't like it."

"I'll see what I can do," Ignis's face is unreadable behind his sunglasses. He's been assigned the leader of rescue efforts, meaning he gets to deal with all the bureaucratic and organizational stuff that makes Galo dizzy. "There are a few favours I can call in."

When he relays this to Lio, he gets back a "Nothing happens without my say-so," and then, a few minutes later, a very quiet, "Thank you."

Getting everyone out of the core takes up the first twenty-four hours, and then Galo suits up to help with search and rescue. Turns out that a giant spaceship falling out of the sky from several hundred feet can cause damage in a pretty large radius. He finds and frees people in fallen buildings, in piles of rubble, in the cavernous cracks around the Parnassus's launch site. And then there's the non-people related things: flooding because of burst pipes all over the city, a couple fires from damaged electrical equipment, a terrifying gas leak that nearly causes an explosion by the main medical tents. There's so much damage, and so many casualties, it makes Galo's chest ache if he thinks about it too long.

He sees Lio in bursts—working to help clear ground to set up tents for displaced people and the Burnish, talking with a group of medics from the nearby hospital, giving orders to a mixed group of volunteers and Burnish who are well enough to help. Galo grins and waves to him when he can, feels like he’s walking on clouds when he gets a half-smile and a wave in return.

After two days, Ignis calls all of Burning Rescue into a tent for a meeting.

“The SAR teams from the next cities over came in about an hour ago,” He says. “That means we’re off shift. Seventy-two hour mandatory rest time. No exceptions.”

Galo would normally argue, but the exhaustion’s starting to set in, and the numbers are adding up in his head—two full days of rescue work, ten hours from Lio's dragon to the Promare going back home, a week or so in Kray's prison. Galo's not great at math, especially when he's tired, but however many hours it's been, he hasn't gotten decent rest in a while. And not getting decent rest means he’s nowhere near a decent rescuer.

The rest of the team seems to share the same sentiment. No one argues. Ignis claps his hands.

“Let’s pack up. Galo–“

Galo snaps to attention.

“Sir!”

“Bring me Fotia and his generals. I need to ask them something before we go.”

“Yessir!”

The group disperses. Galo stops by the supply tent to grab a water bottle for Lio, chugs one himself before going out to find Lio and the others.

He doesn’t have to look far. He pushes aside the tent flap and runs directly into something skinny and green. Said skinny green thing yelps and then, with a whirl of motion, Galo's on the ground, flat on his back, and there's a very pointy boot in the middle of his chest. Galo beams.

"Lio! I was looking for you!"

Lio blinks, then seems to realize what happened and leaps back. "Fuck, sorry, sorry." He's still not wearing a shirt, and he looks cold, shaking just a little.

"No, it's fine!" Galo picks himself back up, wincing a little. That didn't do any favours to his bruises from the fight with Kray, or the other fight with Kray, or the time he fell off the Parnassus, or the other time he fell off the Parnassus. [It was a significant pile of rubble.] "Didn't mean to startle you. Do you judo-flip everyone you run into?"

"No," Lio ducks his head, the faint hint of a blush high on his cheekbones. It's cute, actually. Galo's brain short-circuits for a hot sec before he remembers what he was doing.

"Oh! I got you some water," He offers the bottle. "Though, that's probably why you were going in there, huh?"

"It was," Lio takes it. "Thank you."

He tries to open it, but his hands are too shaky. Galo reaches out to help.

"Here, let me–"

"I'm perfectly capable of doing this myself," Lio replies stiffly. The blush has spread to his ears now. He's embarrassed, and Galo would find it adorable if Lio wasn't also so frustrated."

"Doesn't mean you have to," Galo says. "Plus, your hands look pretty busted."

Lio looks down at one palm, torn and blistered. His fingers tense, just a little bit, like he's expecting something to happen. Galo realizes he's trying to call the fire to his hands, to heal the cuts. There's a flash of pain in his eyes, then he drops his hand and shoves the water bottle in Galo's direction. "Fine."

Galo cracks it open with only a little bit of fumbling. ["Wow, these caps are actually tighter than I thought." "The indomitable Galo Thymos, bested by a water bottle..." "Hey, I can do this, just give me a minute!"] Lio accepts it with another quiet thank-you.

#excerpt #promare #npffs #my writing

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yubsie · 4 years ago

Text

That Can Be Enough

A simple question from Sabine makes Hera and Kanan realize they probably should have made things official a while ago.

Read on AO3

or...

Hera poked her head into Sabine's room, being careful not to intrude too much into their latest crewmember's space. Anyone who'd spent that much time at an Imperial Academy had to relearn that she did deserve her own space and shouldn't expect people entering it without warning. "Kanan's making a supply run. You need anything?"

Sabine hesitated. "I should be okay."

Hera glanced around at the walls. The Ghost was home, but the bunks weren't the coziest thing right off the factory line. She'd worked on the common areas, but until recently they mostly used this room for storing extra boxes that really could have been in the cargo hold just as easily. "If you want to make this place a little more your own, you're allowed. You're sure there's not anything you need for that?"

"You mean it?"

"You're home now. We do things differently here." She wasn't going to start calling her family yet. She didn't think the girl was ready for it. But she could be, if she wanted it.

"Well in that case..." Sabine pulled out her datapad and started making a list.

"Kanan will... do his best." It was a lot of specific colours. Kanan didn't have the eye for that. "It'll be close, anyway. Any favourite foods we should be stocking up on?"

"Maiya sweets should travel okay." Sabine looked up at her. "When's your anniversary? Just so I know."

"My what?"

"Your wedding anniversary."

"Oh, I'm not..."

Sabine looked away. "Oh, sorry, I thought you and Kanan..."

"No, we're... we're just..." Now that Sabine put her on the spot, she actually wasn't sure what they were. "We're just something."

Kanan did better than she expected at getting the right colours. They were all at least close enough to the shades Sabine requested that she said she could work with them on whatever it was she was planning. So that just left them with the big discussion.

"What are we?"

"Reb... els?" Kanan asked slowly.

For a man who could sense her feelings, he could sometimes be really bad at following her. "Not the crew. You and me."

"I guess I never really thought about it. Jedi didn't."

And there were always so many other things to worry about. So much else going on. She knew she was happy with him, but she never stopped to think about actual nouns. "Sabine thought we were married."

Kanan opened his mouth. Closed it again. Opened it again. "Jedi definitely didn't."

"I know." But Kanan wasn't a Jedi anymore. He often reminded her of that. There were no Jedi anymore. Or they couldn't do any of this. "But should we?"

"Do you... want to?"

She hadn't thought about it. She couldn't put a definite timeline on when they started being... whatever it was they were. She remembered when the sex started, of course, but that wasn't all of it and it hadn't been in a long time. Somewhere along the way, the feelings had gotten bigger than that and she really didn't know when. It just felt right. Felt natural. She knew him and he knew her and they worked well together because of it.

She'd been so busy fighting a war that she hadn't even noticed their relationship becoming... well, a relationship. But when she thought about it, Sabine was definitely seeing something. "I hadn't even thought about it. It wouldn't change anything, really." They were living on the edge. Constantly on the run from the Empire. No one had enough contact information to notify the other if something went wrong on a mission. They couldn't risk visiting the sort of medical facilities that would question whether the person making decisions had any legal authority to do so.

Kanan brushed a finger along her cheek. "It would piss off the Empire if they knew."

The Jedi wouldn't approve, but the Empire would approve even less. And... she reached up to run her fingers through his hair. Hair. He was human. She wasn't. Any relationship where they looked at each other as equals would be unthinkable in the upper echelons of society. "Are you suggesting we get married just to thumb our noses at the Empire?"

"Isn't that why we do anything?"

Sometimes they did things just to keep themselves flying. But it was their motivation for a great number of things that they did. They wanted things to change, after all. "A lot of things I guess."

"Also because we love each other."

There was that. She might not be able to define their relationship, but she could feel it. Getting married would be a convenient definition, too. But mostly... they did love each other. That was, she seemed to recall, the usual reason for two people to get married. "And because we love each other."

It was easy to say they were going to make it official. The trouble with making it official while on the run from the Empire was the official part. They probably weren't in any databases. They'd managed to keep their actions fairly covert. But right after springing a cadet from the Academy? That was a good way to trip some alarms.

But it wasn't like they were planning a big blowout wedding. All the family they needed was right here on the ship. As the captain, she could technically officiate a wedding.

Not her own though. Not if they were going to do this properly. And if they were going to get married, she didn't see the sense in doing it any way but properly. There had to be officiants out there who could handle this without it becoming a trouble.

Her finger hovered over the comm. She had one contact who seemed likely to be the expert on such legal quagmires as this. Not one of the contacts that provided missions often, but she had some sort of government connection. She'd been willing to help when she needed resources for other missions in the past.

"Captain? I wasn't expecting to hear from you." Not knowing where her contact was, she hadn't expected her to pick up so quickly. For all she knew, it was the middle of the night. The standard rebel vocal distortions would hide any bleariness.

"I hope I'm not overstepping, E."

"Are you having trouble with a mission?"

"No, it's a.... personal mission." Kanan would be appalled to hear her call it that. But she was starting to realize the logistics involved were going to take it to that level. "I find myself in need of someone who can perform a wedding ceremony without tripping any background checks."

The voice modulation was not meant for the sound that her contact made at that. There was an edge to the frequency that clipped. Then E coughed and returned to her usual tone. "Yes, I should be able to find you someone. There are a lot of places on the Outer Rim that know the value of discretion."

At least it wasn't far to go. She wouldn't have been able to justify the fuel for something like that. But it might be good for them to step away from Lothal. Not for too long, of course. There was so much work to be done here. But it could confuse the Empire, throw them off their trail.

Especially if they could manage to avoid doing any active rebelling on their way. On the other hand, it would make sense to make use of the time away. A supply run, at least, even if they didn't end up picking up an actual mission on the way to the altar.

Overthrowing the oppressive regime was more of a honeymoon activity anyway.

"You need a bachelor party." Zeb didn't sound like he was in the mood to argue with it.

"Does that mean I should be throwing a bachelorette?" Sabine was settling in, at least. Enough to suggest simply ludicrous notions. She was going to fit right in with the sort of plans Kanan tended to make.

"That really won't be necessary," Hera insisted.

"Who would we even invite?" Kanan added. "We're the only people we risk seeing regularly."

They did have a lot of smuggler contacts. A few pirates. Sometimes they even worked with other rebel agents, but not often this far out. Hera didn't know where they were more active and that was entirely the point.

"We could break some out of prison. That's my kind of party."

"I was just going to suggest paintblast. Zeb's idea is way better."

She seldom found herself in a situation where people were endorsing Zeb's idea. She didn't like it.

"Come on Kanan, it's a Lasat tradition!"

"Prison breaks?" Maybe if they ever succeeded in liberating the galaxy they could call that a tradition. A hard one to continue if they eliminated the Imperial prison camps.

"Having a good old fashioned booze up. We have to celebrate your last night of freedom."

Hera shot him a dirty look, but Kanan had her back. "My last night of... from Hera?"

"I mean she's already the captain, but getting married is different."

Kanan tapped the table. "How is it different. Explain."

She wasn't actually considering inappropriate uses of the airlock. But it was useful to let him think that. And entertaining to watch him squirm. This could count as a party right here.

"I mean... it's..."

"Zeb have you ever been married?"

"Well... no."

"Maybe you shouldn't comment on what an awful thing it is if you don't have any experience."

Hera laid a hand on Kanan's arm. "No one is forcing either of us to do this." The fact that they were at war with the Empire was making it very difficult. Maybe the fact that it did feel like the Empire didn't want them to do it was a bit of a motivation. She would never make a decision out of this just to tweak Palpatine's nose, but the fact that he'd be livid did bring her a certain measure of joy.

Mostly she just took joy in it because she wanted to do it. They probably should have done this a long time ago. There had to be a reason that Sabine assumed they already had within a day of being on the Ghost.

"I think they make a great couple." The opinion of a fourteen-year-old girl wasn't usually the decider in the matter of matrimony, but it was nice to hear that she felt comfortable voicing it.

"Are there any Mandalorian traditions you want to incorporate?"

Sabine hesitated. "Most of our traditions involve explosions. Or ritual combat. Or ritual combat through explosions..."

"Maybe we won't do that." It wasn't much of a defiant statement of life in the face of an oppressive regime if they added knife fights. Last night of freedom indeed. They were still fighting for their first night of freedom.

"I'll make you guys a present though."

Technically she'd already given them a massive one by making them realize they should do this. "Only if you want."

Sabine flexed her fingers. "I haven't gotten to create proper art in ages. It'll be fun."

Hera was curious what she was going to come up with using the colours that Kanan had bought, but she was sure it would be heartfelt.

"We could use the explosions to break out some people for the party," Zeb suggested.

Maybe it had been a bad idea to let the two of them meet. Too late now.

It was definitely better to plan this without the kids around. Too many suggestions.

"E said someone will be able to help us out on Garel." There were enough people moving through there that they could blend in with other travellers. And pick up some supplies while they were at it. So that was the most important part of the logistics established. They could actually make this official. Of course, now they had to figure out the rest of the details. They weren't really going to have a guest list, but the officiant would have questions about what they wanted in a ceremony.

"What's a Twi'lek wedding usually like?"

Nothing like what they were going to have. "It's a full clan affair. You would meet with the elders to make your case for joining." Which would involve speaking to her father and that certainly wasn't going to happen. She'd never really thought about whether she even wanted that big event. She wanted to fly, she'd never really pictured herself getting married. But then there was Kanan.

"Would I be expected to take your name? I'm not against it."

Hera leaned over and kissed his cheek. "The only name I need you to take for me is rebel scum, and you did that a long time ago. You couldn't do it without the clan... also kanan'syndulla translates to foul breathed spearman."

Kanan gave her a goofy smile that was presumably never seen in the Jedi Temple. "I might love you enough for that."

"I love you enough to not ask you to. We're still plenty married if we have different names." They were honestly halfway married already, but it was good to have a symbol sometimes.

"Okay. We've figured out what we're not doing. Jedi didn't get married, so I've got no traditions to work from either."

This might be why they hadn't already gotten formally married. "There must be a generic ceremony of some sort. Just... promise to love each other and then eat."

"That's an important part of a wedding, right?"

"The most important part. Especially now that we have a teenager." They might still need most of that clan banquet. And then Zeb wasn't technically an adolescent, but he did manage to eat like one a lot. At least Chopper didn't need to be fed. He made a cheap guest. Assuming he didn't murder anyone while they were there. This was probably enough other activity to keep him entertained.

"Okay. So food. Promise to love each other. Both keep our own names."

"You don't have to do any demonstration to prove that you will be a worthy addition to the clan." Hera was reasonably certain that no human would ever meet that standard in her father's eyes. No matter how many stories she'd heard about Jedi in the Clone Wars, often from his own mouth.

"I don't have to what?"

"It's not a trivial thing, getting married. The bigger difference between the influence of two clans the more... set in their ways the elders can become." Stubborn, really.

"So coming from a clan I just made up..."

"It's not even that. You could be the king of Alderaan and it still wouldn't have any status on Ryloth itself." Hera shook her head. "But we're not getting married on Ryloth, we're getting married in a random spaceport chapel on Garel."

Simpler. More them. This didn't need to be an entire elaborate undertaking. "Okay, none of those traditions. I guess we need to wear... something."

"No way to find a Twi'lek wedding robe out here." It would look strange in the chapel anyway. Without the rest of the trappings it didn't make sense. She'd always pictured wearing one like her mother's on the rare occasion she even thought about the possibility of marrying.

"Jedi would wear robes to other people's weddings but I can think of about five different reasons that's a terrible idea."

"Given that we're trying to avoid attracting too much attention." She knew he still had a lightsaber in the room he didn't tend to sleep in, but it was too risky to ever bring it out. Jedi robes would be an even bigger giveaway. "Do you even still have those?"

"Well... no. And I think Master Yoda would die all over again if I wore them to break the Code this blatantly."

Breaking the Code. She knew he didn't call himself a Jedi anymore. But that was still a big step. "You're sure you want to do this?"

"I'm attached to you whether we get married or not. This is just making it official. I made that choice a long time ago."

She wasn't sure when exactly either of them had made it. She'd never meant to get attached either. She was supposed to be focused on the mission. But he made it easier just by being there. Made her stronger. They were a good team. "Okay... that still doesn't get us closer to figuring the clothing out."

"Do we even own any formalwear?"

That was an excellent question. Hera stood and walked over to the closet. No robes, of course. And she certainly didn't own a dress. "There are a couple shirts in here that don't have grease stains."

"Alright. Good start. I think we're supposed to wear pants to get married."

The pants could come off later. But if the goal was to avoid getting arrested on their wedding night, they definitely wanted to avoid indecent exposure charges. "There has to be something in here that didn't start its life as part of a flightsuit." She pushed through the layers. If nothing else, she must have worn a disguise at some point. That orange fabric didn't blend in very well.

"What about these?" Kanan held up a pair of plain brown pants of a reasonably smooth fabric.

"Clean. Untorn. That's practically black tie in our circles."

"I'm not sure I have anything better than my usual pants..."

Hera looked him up and down. "The usual pants are just fine."

"You're sure? They're kinda..."

Hera smiled. "Flattering. Let's go with... flattering." A little tight, really. She appreciated it. He could pull them off. She could...

Well, definitely appreciate them. That seemed like the ideal thing for him to wear if they were making a formal commitment to their relationship.

"Okay, pants. Shirts. Both are clean. Is that all we need?"

"Technically." They owned boots. They were going to wear boots. That wasn't worth discussing. They could just clean the dirt off the boots. "Unless you have a real desire for a flower crown."

"We should get one for Chopper."

Hera snorted. "Zeb has to be the one to give it to him. I've got plans that involve you not getting murdered by my droid."

Chopper requested the flower crown. At length. Which left them in the unexpected situation of having to find a florist. Hera hadn't thought to ask E about that when requesting a discreet officiant. She felt vaguely ridiculous ordering it. but the florist decided they just weren't going to ask.

Probably a good life choice. Especially after the series of menacing beeps and whistles the droid made when Zeb had the audacity to comment on his new accessory.

The delicate circlet of purple flowers was the only thing that really marked them out as being here for anything other than mundane supply shopping. There wasn't exactly a wedding district to the port. They were just headed for an ordinary-looking office.

Hera glanced down at her datapad. "We're looking for Rov Melmin"

An Ithorian opened the door and waved them in quickly. "Of course, my friends! Come in, come in, quick now." His mechanical voicebox was surprisingly bubbly. It was possible with the technology, of course. But not a variation she had ever encountered before.

They stepped through, with Zeb, Sabine and Chopper following close behind.

"Do you know if anyone is following you directly?" he asked.

Kanan gave him a puzzled look. So much for the Force making all things clear. "Excuse me?"

They were technically wanted by the Empire, of course. But even after Zeb's idea of a bachelor party, they didn't have enough of a trace on them for it to be a major concern if they weren't on Lothal. At least if they weren't going anywhere too public for this.

"How clean was your escape? Do you think there are slave trackers on your heels?"

Hera glanced over at Kanan. She should have realized what this looked like. On the other hand, they shouldn't go around admitting that they were actually just on the run from the Empire because of that little bit of sabotage. So sure. Runaway slave. She could play that role. It would be more convincing with her childhood accent, but she didn't want to speak marriage vows in a different voice than she spoke to Kanan with their entire relationship. "We came farther to be sure of it."

"That was smart. I'll still make sure the perimeter sensors are engaged."

"Thank you," Kanan said.

Perimeter sensors would still be useful for their actual need for discretion. Though if the Empire disrupted this she might just take the Ghost to Coruscant and deal with Palpatine herself.

It was no banquet hall. The walls were painted a generic sort of colour that might have been white at some point. Melmin kept the place clean, but age still did its work. The floor had been swept recently, but there was no hiding that that particular shade of green hadn't been in fashion since the days of the Republic. A cheap polymer desk. A terminal several years out of date but somehow still running. It probably couldn't even patch into the latest version of the Holonet. Which at least made it a little more difficult for the Empire to tap into anything on it. E was onto something when she suggested this place.

No altar. But they had their flower droid and the rest of the family.

"Your friend didn't tell me anything about what sort of ceremony you wanted. Do you just want the papers or..."

They could. But if they were going to the trouble of making this official, it seemed anticlimactic to just fill out some forms. "We want something. We just... haven't really had a chance to discuss what."

"I"m sure it's been a very turbulent time. I realize that we can't carry out any of your cultural traditions here. Do you have any particular preferences, Mister..."

"Jarrus. I'm from all over."

Definitely not asking the Jedi for any input on a wedding ceremony, but the less detail the better on that front.

"Very well." Melmin scrolled on his datapad. "I have something basic I often use in these situations. Take a look."

Kanan leaned in close to read it over her shoulder. She glanced up at him and nodded.

"Yeah, we can work with this."

"Do we just..." with such a small guest list, it was strange to even know how to start.

Chopper gave a series of beeps and circled around them. As good an opening as any. Hera reached for Kanan's hand.

Melmin nodded at them. "In these turbulent times, love is the most precious treasure anyone can find. I don't know what path has brought the two of you to this place, in this time. But you are here, and you are together, and for now, that can be enough. I cannot promise you the road will get easier. But I am here to help you promise to walk it hand in hand."

"Kanan." She raised a hand up to his chest and looked into his eyes. They were really here. A place she never would have expected when they first met. "I promise to be by your side through the good and the bad. To love you whatever the galaxy brings us."

The words on the datapad were a good start. But she did have thoughts of her own to add. "I don't know what the future holds, but I know it's better for having you in it. Whatever battles may come, we'll face them together. Our fates may be in the hands of the goddess, but I place mine in yours as well."

The last line though, what more could she say than what was on the screen? "I swear to remain with you until our star burns out."

"Hera. I promise to be by your side through the good and the bad. To love you whatever the galaxy brings us. I never thought about having a future until you showed me there could be a brighter one. I'm stronger beside you. May the Force be with our union. I swear to remain with you until our star burns out."

"Then by the power granted me, I pronounce you husband and wife."

She'd seen human weddings in holodramas where the groom had to be told to kiss the bride. Kanan needed no such instructions. Chopper gave a triumph whistle while Zeb and Sabine clapped.

Tomorrow, they could get back to fighting for a better future. Today, she could just enjoy committing to her future having Kanan Jarrus in it.

#star wars #fanfiction #kanan/hera #kanera #kanan jarrus/hera syndulla #fanfic #yeah this is wedding fic #because they were married dammit

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written-on-the-trees · 4 years ago

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Silver Linings In Winter Clouds - Machine Gun Kelly Fan Fiction

Prompt: Nativity Play (very, very loosely)

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2100 words (I know, okay, it got away from me)

Summary: High-school AU. Colson is almost one-hundred per-cent sure that there was no punishment worse than having to join the drama club for their Christmas play, even one of the other members is possibly the cutest girl he's ever seen...

Colson had thought he had experienced the worst of his school’s punishments for bad behavior, having been in detention almost every week since he could remember, but he had been wrong.

So, so wrong.

He stared in horror at the carnage unfolding in front of him, and wondered if the punishment for bailing on this punishment could really be any worse than what he was currently facing.

Sure, he might get suspended or something…but he wasn’t really sure that was any worse than being forced to take part on the drama club’s Christmas play. His dad would absolutely flip his shit, but he’d be able to pick up some extra shifts at work, and he’d get out of the fucking nightmare that was this drama club bullshit.

Colson was more than ready to take his chances, when Mr. Greene, the drama teacher, saw him frozen in the doorway to the practice room, and cheerfully called out to him:

“Mr. Baker! So glad you could make it.”

Too late to escape now.

Unwilling to lose face by running (or even walking) away now everyone was looking at him, Colson curled his lip in disdain and stepped further into the room.

He wasn’t a coward.

Disgusted by all this theatre shit, but not a coward.

It was exactly the kind of attitude they were expecting from him, so it wasn’t long before they were all going back to focusing on that they had been doing before Mr. Greene had drawn everyone’s attention to him. Knowing Greene, it was probably a deliberate way of irritating Colson - the guy was just like that - but unfortunately that didn’t mean Colson could avoid him. Greene was the only one who could sign off on Colson’s report that documented him actually being here…and he was also the only one who could give Colson a job to do, because Colson sure as hell wasn’t taking any initiative with this shit.

The less effort he could put in, the better. It was bad enough that people were going to think he was one of the drama nerds (albeit unwillingly), he refused to give anyone even an inkling that he was enjoying or being proactive about being part of this.

As it was, Greene sent him over to work with the group of kids working on the scenery, muttering something about putting his height to good use. Colson had never been so grateful to be a lanky motherfucker as he was right then, walking over to where four girls and two guys were leant over various bits of paper, arguing between themselves.

“Hey…apparently I’m meant to be helping out over here.” Colson announced to get their attention, watching as all six of them looked up from the paper and had six different reactions.

Brendan, always the drama queen, threw his hands up and stormed away while muttering about not wanting to deal with ‘the white trash kid in detention’. His twin sister, Ellie, smiled apologetically and went after him to calm him down. Willow looked a little nervous, which was understandable since the last time she’d seen him he had been kicking the shit out of her older brother. Cameron beamed friendlily and welcomed him to the team. Darren just smiled.

And then there was Belle.

Colson had to stop himself from staring as she smiled at him, the soft, somehow glowing expression one he’d never had directed at him before.

She looked so gorgeous, standing there in her black denim dungarees and white t-shirt with the small splotch of pink paint on the shoulder and with the paint and ink stains on her hands, Colson felt like he almost swallowed his own tongue. She just looked so…soft, so sweet, like some kind of paint-stained Christmas angel.

He was instantly in love with her.

I’m so screwed…

Being in regular contact with Belle was doing nothing to stop Colson feeling like he was doomed – because if their first meeting had been difficult, with Colson feeling like he was tripping over his words every time he spoke to her (although thankfully she seemed not to have notices his sudden incompetence when it came to speech), then the second was basically excruciating.

The thing was, Belle was nice.

Genuinely, altruistically, nice.

Unlike Brendan, who sneered at Colson every time he spoke, or Willow and Darren who were still a bit jumpy around him, Belle always took time to not just say hello when he showed up, but actually ask how his day had been and then listen when he responded - however flippant his responses were.

She laughed at his jokes, and shut Darren up when Colson saw a bit of scenery design so blatantly stupid he had to suggest it be changed - because even if he was going to be part of this fiasco, he wasn’t going to have his name associated with anything so dumb as the fake graffiti Brendan had drawn on the plans.

Modern take on the Christmas Nativity scene or not, there was no need for that bullshit.

Colson hadn’t really expected anyone to take his side, even when he explained why he didn’t like it, but then Belle had nodded and said: “That’s a fair point - what would you suggest we do instead?”

“Like, speak to someone who maybe knows how to do that graffiti shit?” Colson asked.

“I’m sure you have a whole list of degenerate friends to recommend - ” Brendan sneered, but Belle cut him off:

“Great idea, Colson. I know exactly who to ask.”

On the day of their third meeting, Belle walked into the room five minutes later than Colson, with a familiar face trailing after her.

Dom was a kind-of friend of Colson’s in the same way he was a kind-of friend with everyone in this school; he just had one of those personalities. He went to the same parties as Colson and his friends, wrote stories that had him in good standing with the English Lit kids, and apparently spent a lot of his art classes working next to Belle.

He also was well known for creating various pieces of artwork all over any walls he got get to without being seen. His fingers were constantly stained with spray paint.

Colson was a little bit surprised to see him, but still happy to chat while the others were distracted: “Hey man, I didn’t know you got involved with this shit.”

“I don’t, normally. Mr. Greene hates me.” Dom laughed loudly - and drawing a furious expression out of Greene: “But Belle’s sound, and she asked me to ‘consult’, so here I am.”

Colson shouldn’t be surprised that other people thought Belle was a good person - or ‘sound’ as Dom put it - and, when he thought about it, he wasn’t.

He just surprised at how in love he was with her after just two meetings.

I’m so unbelievably screwed…

After a week of planning sessions, Belle took Colson to the art cupboard to help her gather supplies for painting the scenery Willow and Cameron were currently drawing out back on the stage of the school theatre.

He wasn’t much use; standing outside with a big cardboard box in his arms while Belle actually found everything they had been sent out to go and get, but Belle didn’t seem to mind all that much…

“I’m just so glad I don’t have to lug it all back by myself, or with Darren.” she confided in him while putting some pots of brightly coloured paint in the box he was holding: “Don’t tell him I said it, but you’ve got a lot more muscles than he does.”

Colson knew she was only being friendly…but that didn’t stop him from winking at her: “Thanks, I worked hard for them.”

“And they’re very nice, too.” Belle laughed, clearly taking his response as a joke…but Colson didn’t mind her missing him flirting with her.

He’d seen her looking at his arms.

She hadn’t just been teasing.

Colson wasn’t the only one

On opening night, Colson was hanging out backstage, leaning against a wall and waiting for his cue to help move the scenery about on stage. They had to keep it down, as to not be heard over ‘Marine’ and ‘Joey’ dramatically bemoaning that there was no room at the inn – in rhyming couplets (Colson was seriously glad he hadn’t been put with the kids writing the script for this punishment, he might have actually punched someone), but it was still…alright.

Brendan was still a dick, obviously, but Willow had warmed up enough to offer him some sour patch kids from the bag she, Ellie, Belle, and Cameron were sharing (which was more than she’d offered Brendan - which Colson was taking as a major win), and Belle was leaning against the wall next to him, dressed in a pair of black slacks and a black button-down shirt like the rest of them, with her chocolate-coloured hair smoothed into a sleek twist, and her skin free of paint.

Honestly, Colson kind of missed the paint stains…but he had to admit he wasn’t ungrateful to be seeing the smokey eyeshadow and deep red lipstick she’d put on for when they went out on stage to take their bow after the play was over.

After a month of spending anywhere between one and three hours a day with her, Colson could safely say he’d never wanted anyone more than he wanted Belle.

She was…indescribable. Literally; he didn’t have all the words to describe her properly, and Colson prided himself on being eloquent. He adored everything about her: from the fact she was constantly sketching in a notebook just as he always had scraps of paper to write down anything he thought might sound good in a song, the way she was quick to laugh and even quicker to smile, and the fact that she was always willing to give someone a chance, no matter how disdainful they were when she met them.

Yeah, he was talking about himself.

Belle had been nice to him, even when he didn’t deserve it. Even when, to make sure everyone knew he was no coward, he’d acted like a dick.

Well, Colson still wasn’t a coward…so tonight, after they’d all taken their bow and shit, he was going to ask Belle if she wanted to go out with him at some point over the Christmas break. Just the thought was terrifying, but if she noticed anything, she was kind enough not to mention it as they waited around backstage, or as they moved scenery as required, or when they went out and took their bow with the script writers, the kid who’d done the lighting and sound effects, the kids who’d make the costumes.

She just…carried on making normal conversation, and didn’t seem to mind when Colson’s responses were a little halting and disjointed. She didn’t even say anything when they were heading out of the back of the auditorium after most of the audience had left, and Colson was trailing after her, feeling a little like a lost puppy…

He felt like an idiot, so when she paused just before she was about to say goodbye, Colson blurted out:

“Hey, Belle, I know we probably won’t be seeing each other much now my detention in theatre club is over, since if I stick around I might get kicked out for finally punching Brendan like he deserves, but I was wondering if…maybe you wanted to go out over winter break? Like, on a date?”

Belle looked surprised for a few seconds, and Colson’s heart dropped…but then she grinned, fishing a pen out of her pocket and scrawling her number on the back of his hand, before leaning up to press her lips against his cheek: “I’d love to. Text me to work something out?”

“I’d love to…” Colson echoed, feeling a little dazed from the kiss…but still overjoyed.

Belle laughed gently, before ducking out when someone called for her.

Colson waited a few seconds in the room, probably smiling like an idiot, before heading out too.

Slim and Rook were waiting for him just outside the doors, the grins on the faces confirming that they had heard everything Colson and Belle had said, with Slim greeting Colson with a congratulatory grin: “So, bro, how do we sign up next year? I’m thinking I need a way to find me a hot girl…”

#The Trees' Christmas 2020 Writing Collection #The Trees Writes #Machine Gun Kelly imagine #Machine Gun Kelly fanfic #Machine Gun Kelly fan fic #Machine Gun Kelly fan fiction #MGK imagine #MGK fanfic #MGK fan fic #MGK fan fiction #Colson Baker imagine #Colson Baker fanfic #colson baker fan fic #Colson Baker fan fiction

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bedbellyandbeyond · 4 years ago

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Break Up

(Story Post)

“What about Ben? Yeah, I—No, but—” Jeffrey sniffled. “Well go then! Don't come back!” Nathan was just coming out of a meeting with Korsgaard when he caught the end of Jeffrey’s phone conversation. Jeffrey was in the hall carrying Ben strapped to his chest and after hanging up the phone, he just pressed his head against the wall and sobbed. “Whoa, hey…” Nathan rushed over quickly and placed a hand on Jeffrey’s back. “…What’s up? What happened?” Jeffrey flinched but relaxed when he realised it was Nathan. He quickly wiped his eyes. “It’s Bler… He just broke up with me…” “No way.” Nathan wasn’t surprised at all considering how little Bler seemed to be involved with his family based on what Jeffrey had shared in group, but he still felt bad for the boy nonetheless. “I’m so sorry. That’s terrible.”

“He did it through text too!” Jeffrey sniffled, holding up his phone. Ben was visibly getting upset as Jeffrey did, but he didn’t cry. “Who breaks up with someone over text?!” “You were just on the phone though…” Nathan remarked. “He texted me during my counseling, but I called him as soon as I saw it after…” Jeffrey said. Nathan didn’t even think young adults made phone calls anymore, but he didn’t bring it up. Instead he searched his pockets and found one of the twins’ toys, a little squishy octopus, and handed it to Ben. He hoped it would entertain him enough in the moment to keep his attention off his father’s breakdown. “…Break ups are difficult. Not to mention, it must be even harder when you have a baby between you… If there’s anything I can do to help, just ask.” Jeffrey slumped his back against the wall and wiped his eye again. “I… I just don’t know what to do…” Nathan nodded and rubbed Jeffrey’s shoulder. “Who’s picking you up today?” “No one…” Jeffrey answered. “Ollie’s at work until later and Korsy’s in, like, Montana or something… I took transit.” Nathan shook his head. “I’m not letting you go on transit like this. How about you have dinner with us? Then when your cousin gets off work, he can get you. Or Dax’ll drive you.” Jeffrey hesitated for second. “That’d be cool, I think… Thanks…” “I’m on wolf cycle which means I’m eating in the cafeteria this week which is good for us because we don’t have to go all the way home, but it also means you can’t stay too late,” Nathan explained. “But I’m headed to my room right now if you’ll join me.” Jeffrey nodded. “Sure.” Nathan offered to carry Ben for the way down and Jeffrey took the break thankfully. He was quiet the whole time as he was guided down to the resident floor, but he wasn’t crying anymore which Nathan hoped was good. Ben watched Jeffrey the whole time with his big wide eyes, almost like he was studying his father. When Jeffrey noticed, he pulled a silly face for him and pet his head. When they got to the room, Nathan let them in with his key. Wano, who had been watching the twins, got up from the floor by their play pen and came to the door. The tall stranger overwhelmed Jeffrey and he stepped back a pace before Wano was standing over him. “Who is this?” Wano asked, tilting his head as he scanned Jeffrey’s face. He glanced at Nathan and then pointed to Ben. “And this. This is not yours, Nathan.” “No, this is Jeffrey and his son Ben,” Nathan said. “He’s in my pregnancy group.” “Uh, Nathan… Who’s this guy?” Jeffrey asked. Then he lowered his voice. “You’re not sleeping around on Mr. Olivier, are you?” “What? No!” Nathan patted Wano’s arm. “This is Wano. He’s under my care at the moment.” “So… You’re fostering him?” Jeffrey asked. “Sometimes it feels that way…” Nathan chuckled. “But, no. It’s sort of like a sponsorship. He stays with us to get some more time outside of APID.” “But this is APID,” Jeffrey said. “Yeah, he still has to come back when I’m on my cycle, but when we’re home, he gets to come live with us,” Nathan said. Wano was still looking Jeffrey over. He pointed to Ben again. “You made this?” Jeffrey’s pride took over and he grinned. “Yeah, baked him myself.” “So, you are a parent?” Wano asked. “That’s right,” Jeffrey said. “Recently single parent.” Nathan watched how Jeffrey’s eyes flicked down Wano’s torso and a sudden realisation of what he might’ve just started filled him with worry. “You’re ra bit small, though,” Wano commented. “How do you fit a child inside? You’re not as tall as Nathan. He can fit two children.” “I think most pregnant people on Earth are usually closer to Jeffrey’s height or shorter actually,” Nathan said. “But I guess you haven’t met many parents here yet, have you?” “You and the fish,” Wano said. He looked at Jeffrey again and nodded. “You are closer to the fish size. I understand. Probably only one baby at a time then. That’s fine.” “I bet I could handle twins,” Jeffrey said, placing his hands on his hips. “No problem.” “Really? That is admirable,” Wano said. “I cannot carry children. I can only plant seeds.” “That’s totally fine by me,” Jeffrey said. “Okay, you know what, I’m really hungry,” Nathan said to try to slow the roll on wherever that conversation was going. “How about we go to the cafeteria now and I can text Dax to meet us there?” “Alright,” Jeffrey said. “Is Wano joining us?” “Of course,” Nathan said. “Wano, could you help me get the twins in their carriers, please?” Wano nodded and went to grab them. Nathan handed Ben back to Jeffrey so he could carry one of the twins while Wano took care of the other. He didn’t have to message Dax as the teacher came strutting down the hall to meet them at the door. “Hello!” he saved waving. “Looks like I’m not too late! Hello, Jeffrey. It’s nice to see you again.” “Hi, Mr. Olivier!” Jeffrey said quickly. “Or, uh, Dax, right?” “Of course! I'm not your teacher anymore. Just call me Dax,” he insisted. “Okay cool. Feels kinda weird but I guess I'll get used to it…” Jeffrey said. “Jeffrey’s cousin can't pick him up until later, so I invited him to have dinner with us,” Nathan explained. “Sounds good. I'll put my book bag down inside and then we can head over,” Dax said. They went down to the cafeteria all together and chose a table to sit at. Nathan left the twins with Dax while he took Jeffrey up to get food first. While they did that, Dax and Wano set up a highchair for Ben too. “The food's really good here,” Nathan said as they lined up. “If you don't have dietary restrictions, it's pretty much a buffet. Desserts are portioned out for the residence, but you can have mine.” “Do I have to pay for any of this?” Jeffrey asked. “No, no. It's free for anyone with entry into the facilities,” Nathan said. “Just tap your APID card at the end over there.” “Cool. Nobody told me there was free food…” “Yeah, it’s great. How old’s Ben? Can he eat solids?” Nathan asked. “Oh, yeah. He's big into Cheerios and yoghurt,” Jeffrey said. “And he’s ten months old.” “Ooh, a birthday soon, nice,” Nathan said. “They should have some options for Ben at the end by the desserts.” “This is pretty cool. I might come here more often,” Jeffrey said. “So uh, where’s Wano from?” “Um, Eclul. He’s Eclulan,” Nathan explained. “Listen, about Wano—” “Are they all purple like him?” Jeffrey asked. “More or less,” Nathan answered. “I’ve seen darker shades, but they don’t really vary in hue like Yulinians.” “Bler’s species wasn’t very different from us,” Jeffrey said. “His skin’s tiny bit green and his eyes are big, but that’s about it. Ben mostly just got his hair and eyes.” “Good for fitting in, I imagine,” Nathan said. “If that’s what your going for anyway.” “Yeah, when I go out grocery shopping with him or something, sometimes little old ladies come up and tell me my son has such beautiful eyes,” Jeffrey said. “But he could’ve also got that from me, ‘cause I used to get a lot of compliments on my eyes. You know, since they’re a little pink.” “They are a really nice colour,” Nathan considered. “Is that the fairy side?” “Ollie says so,” Jeffrey said. He looked back at their table. “I don’t think I could date another Prilarian…” “May be for the best,” Nathan said. “I think the best thing after a bad break up is to have some time to yourself. I didn’t even think I could ever date again after my last break up. But I guess, that was for more personal reasons.” “Maybe… Maybe not,” Jeffrey said. “And I’m thinking about Ben here. He needs a dad.” “Well, is Bler not going to be around at least for his son?” Nathan asked. “Nope. He has to go back to Poland,” Jeffrey said. “He said Canada deported him back there because it’s where he landed and he has a criminal record or something… He doesn’t think it’s worth it to try and fight to come back because he could be deported off planet… Korsy warned me this could happen because it happens a lot to Prilarians since they tend to ignore the law. I just think Korsy hates him. He’s probably the one who got him kicked out…” “Wow, that’s… Well… I don’t really know anything about Prilarians,” Nathan said. “Yulinians seem to be the majority at APID.” “What about Eclulans? Are there a lot of them?” Jeffrey asked. “I think they’re like a far second,” Nathan said. “Yulinians are mostly here to work as ambassadors in their fields but Eclulans are mostly here to make a better life for themselves. The thing is that most of them are pretty stubborn and typically come to Earth under false VISAs because they won’t admit they’re refugees of war on their planet.” “So, they’re runaways?” Jeffrey said. “That’s kinda hot.” “I don’t know about hot, but it means a lot of them get deported,” Nathan said. “Wano himself is in the middle of getting deported which is why we insisted he stay with us so he can see a bit more of Earth before he goes.” Jeffrey frowned. “Oh no… You’re fighting it, right?” “Yeah, but all we could get so far was an extension,” Nathan said. “It seems like he might have to go back to Eclul and reapply to return. It’s hard to know he’ll be safe though if he goes back.” “Oh…” They got their food and headed back to the table. Jeffrey smiled to Wano as the Eclulan got up to get his dinner with Dax. Nathan wondered if Dax was picking up any of this, or if Wano was even aware of how interested Jeffrey was. Jeffrey got Ben out of his carrier and placed him into the highchair. He put out a bowl of dry cereal for the baby to try and Ben seemed more than happy grabbing from it and shoving pieces in his mouth. “What do you do for fun?” Nathan asked as he started to eat. “Play video games mostly,” Jeffrey answered. “I'm starting to stream. I'm hoping I can build up some fans again and make some money. Reggie's helping.” “Again?” Nathan asked. “Yeah. I used to livestream when I was pregnant with Ben,” Jeffrey explained. “People paid to see me getting bigger. They seemed to know before I did that I was pregnant though. I was just trying to gain weight. Turns out I'd been wasting my time since my fairy genes won't allow it. But I got Ben out of it, so there's always that.” “I see…” Nathan said. “So you've stopped making those types of videos?” “Yeah. APID pretty much made me delete my account,” Jeffrey said. “I did give birth to an alien on camera, so they wanted to shut that down pretty quick. I do miss it though. I really enjoyed being big and round and just so tight and full… I was hoping Bler would give me another child but it seems that's not likely…” “You want to get pregnant again?” Nathan asked, a little more worried. “Of course! Don't you?” Jeffrey asked. “Not even a little bit, no,” Nathan said. Jeffrey waved a hand. “That's fine or whatever, but I want to be pregnant again so bad. I loved just how big I was, just waddling everywhere. And I want Ben to have a sibling to play with.” “Don't you worry about that getting in the way of your ambitions?” Nathan asked. “That is my ambition. That's why I want to do the gaming thing,” Jeffrey said. “Gaming is something you can do from home and you don't have to worry if you're pregnant. It's not like there's a boss that needs you in the office or whatever. It's flexible. You're your own boss. You create content whenever you feel like it and make bank.” Nathan wasn't sure Jeffrey was being too realistic. “That's if you get really famous, right? Until you start making that money, if you're supporting a family, you need a day job too. It costs a lot of money to raise children.” “Well, that's why I don't want to do it alone,” Jeffrey said. “The sooner I start dating again, the sooner I find someone who can support myself and my kids. It’d be much harder alone.” Nathan reached over and took Jeffrey’s hand. “Listen. I still think it'd be best for you to take some time to yourself. Process your break up before you jump into anything you'll regret.” Jeffrey frowned and took his hand back. “I appreciate your opinion, but I didn't ask for it.” The others came back at this point but before sitting down, Dax tapped Nathan's shoulder. “Oh, I got the meat lasagna instead of the veggie. I’m gonna go back up. But Nathan, they had your favourite bagels out. Did you see?” Nathan looked up at his partner a bit confused but he saw the insistence in Dax's face and realised he wanted him to come with him. “No, I didn't see. If they're my favourite I should get one.” Nathan got up and grabbed his plate. “We'll be right back.” Nathan and Dax drifted off back over near the buffet and Dax dropped a hand on his shoulder. “What's going on here?” Dax asked. “Are we on a double date?” “Oh god, I hope not…” Nathan sighed. “So, you're getting that vibe too?” “Less of a vibe, more of a big blinking billboard,” Dax said. “Wano has been very explicit about how he'd like to bed Jeffrey and fill him with offspring.” “Ew… Now that Bler's officially dumped him, Jeffrey seems to be ready to jump into bed too,” Nathan said, starting to panic a bit. “I didn’t realise they’d be like this. This is all my fault for inviting Jeffrey to dinner.” “No, no. You were just being nice,” Dax said. “This happens, I guess. They're young. Or, actually… How old is Wano?” “Physically? I don't know. Emotionally, ten. Maybe thirteen, tops.” “Mm, well… They are adults. There isn’t much we can do,” Dax pointed out. “If they both like each other mutually, then it isn’t really our place to try to break them up.” “But if they do get together and they do have a child, what then? From what I know from our group sessions, Jeffrey already barely has the means to support Ben and Wano is literally getting deported. And, I mean it's not breaking them up if they haven't gotten together yet, right?” Nathan said. “It's prevention.” “I think at this point it's breaking them up,” Dax said, pointing past Nathan. Nathan turned around and sighed. Jeffrey had slid around to sit beside Wano and they were feeding each other their dinners. “Fucking hell…” Nathan groaned. “Well, Wano has to stay with you so technically, they shouldn’t really have much of a chance to be alone, right?” Dax said. “And when he's alone in the house, he has to watch the kids.” “You’re right…” Nathan was still a bit unconvinced. “But I’m still worried.” Dax pursed his lips. “Well, if you don't want them to start making out in front of the kids, we should probably get back.” “Yeah.” They rejoined the table and Nathan sat across from Jeffrey now that they were on opposite sides. “Hey, um. Have you let Ollie know you’re here with us?�� “Oh, not yet,” Jeffrey said pulling out his phone. “I'll text him now.” “Who is Ollie?” Wano asked curiously. “My cousin,” Jeffrey said as he typed. “I can't drive but he picks me up all the time.” “Cousin?” Wano inquired, unfamiliar with the word. “Yeah. My mother's sister's son.” “Ah. You are blood.” “Yep.” “Wano, you ate all your green beans,” Dax remarked. “Good job.” “They were not disgusting,” Wano said. “Very tolerable.” “I'm glad to hear it,” Dax said. “Yes, Jeffrey made them enjoyable to eat,” Wano said. “He made spaceship noises.” “Oh...” “Shit, it doesn’t seem like Ollie can get me tonight…” Jeffrey interrupted after receiving a text message. “Dax'll drive you then,” Nathan said. “Right, Dax?” “Sure,” Dax confirmed. “I'd be happy to." “‘Kay,” Jeffrey accepted. “You guys are so chill. I always figured teachers were really boring and dusty, but you’ve always been pretty cool, Mr. Olivier. Or, Dax. Sorry.” “No, that's alright and thank you,” Dax said. “Let me know when you're done eating and then we can head out.” “Is there a rush?” Jeffrey asked, sliding his hand onto Wano's knee. Nathan tensed when he noticed. “Well sort of. You know, I have my condition. Too late and it could be dangerous for you.” “Does Wano stay in your room while you guys are living at APID?” Jeffrey asked. Wano shook his head. “I have my own room. It's smaller, but the wi-fi is good and the bed is nice.” “Well, if it gets too late, then I could hang out in Wano's room,” Jeffrey said. “No, no… Uh, doesn't Ben have a bedtime you wanna stick to?” Nathan mentioned. “Yeah, I guess.” Jeffrey patted Wano's leg. “Another time then?” “Yes. You can see my rock collection,” Wano said. “Ooh, are they really hard?” “Yes, they are rocks.”

#lore #Nathan #Jeffrey #Wano #Dax #Ben

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