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grandeoatmilklatte · 1 year ago

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Sweet Trouble 🍬

So I've been so deep into the HL fandom lately and have followed so many blogs with so many amazing pieces of work that I finally decided to try to write something myself. I've never written much of anything, yet alone fan fic before, so please go easy on me! 🥺 Enjoy I guess!

Sweet Trouble - Garreth x Gryffindor female MC (in second person format though cause that's just how I felt most comfortable writing this first time!)

4.6k word count - Fluff and smut!

Summary: Garreth, the boy you’ve had a crush on for two years now, invites you on another one of his adventures, but this one doesn’t go exactly as planned, as an accident brings you two closer together than ever before.

18+! NSFW! Characters are aged up and in 7th year! Don’t even breathe near this fic if you aren’t 18+!

---

“Hello, fellow trouble maker!” You hear the ginger haired boy yell in your direction as you make your way through the Entrance Hall. You give him a dramatic eye roll as you walk over to him.

“What do you want now, Weasley? You already got us in trouble once today, is that not enough?” You replied back to him in a tone that you made clear was a playful one.

You had a huge crush on Garreth from the moment you met him two years ago in the Gryffindor common room on your first day. You were a new student and you were nervous about your new school and new life. But his charming and funny personality drew you in. The two of you have been inseparable ever since. You developed feelings for him immediately, but you were still mustering up the courage to tell him. You were also still trying to determine if he even felt the same. The thing is, he did. He also fell for you the moment he met you. He loved your confidence and your fearlessness, and he loved how you never made him feel stupid for all his antics, despite the playful teasing you often engaged in. You both were afraid to make the first move, afraid to ruin the beautiful friendship you had created.

All of your friends, however, knew there was something between you two with the way you behaved around each other. Your bodies always seemed to be touching in one way or another - sitting so close to each other in classes and meal times that your knees would touch, linking arms to walk between classes, and pulling each other into suspiciously long embraces when you weren’t going to the same class. Not to mention the jealousy you both showcased seeing each other talk to someone of the opposite sex. Even Ominis, one of your closest friends who’s been blind since birth, could feel Garreth’s jealous glare whenever you helped him in class. And one time, although you’d never admit this out loud, you hexed this one Gryffindor girl’s diary to fly around the library after she laughed a little too hard at one of Garreth’s jokes (it wasn’t THAT funny). You two were in love, but you just couldn’t see it yet.

“Oh stop! It wasn’t THAT bad!” Garreth replied with a cheeky smile on his face.

“No, of course not. You only almost BLEW UP our potions classroom with ingredients that I stole from the storage room for you.” You said with faked annoyance. “You’re SO lucky Professor Sharp considers me a ‘model student’ otherwise we would have had two weeks of detention! You know, I’m getting a little tired of getting in trouble with you!”

“But I thought you loooooved getting into trouble with me?” He fired back with that same cheeky smile on his face. Your lips curled up into a smile, the kind of smile that always lit a fire in him. He quickly continued before his brain had the chance to conjure up naughty thoughts about those pretty pink lips of yours and how they’d feel against his skin. “Anyway, I have a little adventure for us. We won’t get caught, well, we won’t as long as we’re sneaky. But I promise, the pay off will be worth it.”

You sighed. “I’m listening.” Even though you really didn’t need an explanation. You were always interested in whatever crazy idea he had.

He went on to explain his plan. “So, there’s a secret passageway here in the castle that leads straight into the Honeydukes basement!” He didn’t elaborate how he found out about this secret passageway in the first place, but it was behind a statue of a one-eyed witch, and needed a password to get into, which he somehow had.

“Alright, so we’re trespassing into Honeydukes for what reason, exactly?” you inquired.

“Well, I have this idea for a new beverage inspired by Fizzing Whizzbees, a ‘Fizzing Whizzbeer’ if you will! It’s going to be great! I’m just missing some Billywig stings, which I know for sure are down in that basement!”

“And why am I getting roped into this?”

“Because, adventures are always fun with a partner!” He said, trying his best to butter you up so that you’d say yes. Desperate times call for desperate measures, so he decided to hit you with some of his good ol’ Weasley charm. “And besides, who better to take to the sweetest shop in town than the sweetest girl I know?” He gave you a wink.

Your knees almost gave out from that wink, but you kept your composure. “What’s in it for me?” You asked, once again pretending as if you weren’t already fully on board from the moment he said “I have a little adventure for us”.

“If, no, WHEN my Fizzing Whizzbeer gets big, you can be my business partner! Just think about it - you and me, entrepreneurs fresh out of school!”

Business partners? You would have preferred romantic partners, but you couldn’t help the feeling in your stomach when he referred to the two of you as a unit - ‘you and me’. It sounded so lovely. “Hmmmm.” You glanced up at the ceiling pretending you were making a decision. “I guess we’re going to Honeydukes then, partner!”

His gorgeous green eyes lit up. He looked so cute when he was excited. “Woohoo!” He pulled you into one of those suspiciously long embraces, relishing in the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other. You were doing the same.

---

After midnight that night, you met Garreth by the statue, which he explained was near the third floor corridor. To make sure you weren’t caught, you cast a disillusionment charm on yourself and headed over. You found him waiting for you off to the side of the statue, no doubt trying to be out of sight. You took the opportunity to sneak up on him, causing him to make the cutest little yelp you had ever heard.

“Bloody hell! Was that necessary?!” He whispered aggressively through gritted teeth, trying not to draw any attention to you.

“No, but it was funny!” You said as you removed the charm from yourself.

He huffed. “You ready?” You nodded. He then turned to the statue, did a quick glance around to make sure no one was around, and then spoke the password, which caused the statue to move and reveal the opening to the passageway. You also gave a quick glance around to make sure you weren’t spotted, and the two of you headed inside, the statue closing behind you.

---

It was dark for a moment before your surroundings lit up. You noticed a long corridor with several torches lining the walls that lit up as you traveled down. At the end of the corridor you were met with a lift that appeared to be broken. Before you could react, Garreth cast Repairo to restore the lift to working condition so you could ride it down deeper into the ground. You were impressed so far.

Your positive feelings were quickly extinguished however when you exited the lift as you now continued down a dark, cavernous tunnel with Garreth leading the way, the pair of you walking close to each other. Your nervousness about being so close to your crush got the better of you when you heard the sound of Garreth accidentally kicking a rock on the ground. You let out a soft scream, grabbing Garreth’s hand. He chucked. “It’s okay, sweet girl! It’s just a rock. I think we can handle it if it tries to attack us!” You let out an annoyed huff, but still kept a grip on his hand. After all, it was pretty dark. You didn’t want to trip and hurt yourself, better to be safe and have something to hold on to. He agreed, and thought this was a great excuse to interlace his fingers with yours, a warm feeling rising in both of your stomachs.

A few more paces later you approached a ledge that would have been too high to reach without assistance, as well as a platform on the ground. These were blocked, however, by a giant wall of spiderwebs.

“YUCK! Foul things! Garreth if we get attacked by spiders down here I will kill you!” you yelled as you cast Incendio to burn up the blockade.

“Oh, I’ve never seen any spiders down here! And if we do, of course I’ll protect you! What kind of Gryffindor would I be if I didn’t protect my girl…I…I MEAN my friend…my future business partner…haha!” he let out a nervous chuckle, internally screaming at himself for that slip up. He really hoped you had feelings for him, otherwise he had just made a total fool out of himself.

You froze. “My girl?” You thought to yourself. Hearing that from him made your heart skip a beat, and you squeezed your thighs together to alleviate the tingling feeling that was starting in your most sensitive area. Maybe he really did feel the same? You hoped you’d find out for sure sooner rather than later.

With the spider webs now gone, you approached the ledge and platform. Garreth cast Levioso on the platform, causing it to rise and float, providing a way to get up onto the higher ledge, which you both managed to reach effortlessly. A few more paces deeper into the tunnel you found what appeared to be an impassable gap, with the rest of your journey being on the other side of this gap.

“Shit, now what?” you thought out loud. Garreth answered your question by walking over to the ledge, looking down, and casting Levioso, which raised another platform down below, allowing the two of you to get across. While getting across, you had taken note that you were above a lake, which would break your fall if you were to slip.

You encountered two more bridges similar to this first one, with the third bridge having the biggest gap between the platform once raised and the ledge. Garreth went first, reaching his hands out to help you across. You reached for his hands and tried to step on the platform, but slipped before you could grab him, and a second later you found yourself deep in the water below.

---

You let out a harsh gasp for air when you came up from the frigid water, with Garreth above you screaming your name and frantically asking if you were okay. “I’m fine!” you yelled towards him. You pushed your wet hair out of your face to get a look at your surroundings. A quick swim away was some ground, with a trail that seemed to lead back towards the bridges. “I see a way back up! Stay there!” you yelled to Garreth who was muttering an array of curse words while running, already on the way to retrieve you. You swam and made your way back up towards him, meeting back on the ledge of the second platform bridge.

Your body wasn’t hurt, but your ego certainly was. You had actually been enjoying this adventure so far. Between the “my girl” and the hand holding, you had been feeling more confident than ever that there truly was something between you. Now, you just felt embarrassed and wet (in a bad way). As for Garreth, he was falling apart. He also had been enjoying this, but was now worried you’d never want to spend time with him again, and convinced he lost his shot with you.

“Fuck! Shit! I’m SO sorry! I…FUCK…sweetheart, are you okay?!” he asked as he grabbed the sides of your head, running his fingers through your wet hair, panic in his eyes.

“Yes! Yes I’m fine.” It was hard to look him in the eyes for too long. “Just cold and soaked.”

He looked down at himself, both of you had ditched your robes for this trip, otherwise he would have wrapped you up in his. He did, however, have a jumper over his white shirt, which he ripped off himself and handed to you. He couldn’t help you with your wet skirt, but he hoped the jumper would help a bit. The thought of you in his clothes reignited his confidence for a few seconds. You put the jumper on over your wet shirt, and the two of you continued your journey, squeezing the water out of your hair as you went.

After the third bridge was crossed without further incident, you walked a few paces more to find an open area containing a (fully assembled) stone bridge, a stone door, and two unlit pyres on either side of the door. Garreth explained that you had arrived, and that all that needed to be done now was to light the pyres on fire, which would open the stone door. Beyond the stone door would be a ladder leading into the Honeydukes basement.

Needless to say, you were frustrated with how badly things had gone. As you crossed this bridge, you slipped on some water that had fallen from your wet hair. You yelled in frustration, your composure finally breaking as you sat on the ground near one of the pyres and started crying.

Garreth sank to his knees and grabbed your hand, rubbing your palm with his thumb. “Hey! Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Talk to me, please? Baby, please don’t cry.” Seeing you cry was breaking his heart, on the verge of tears himself. “I ruined it.” he thought to himself. “I ruined my chances with her.”

“I just…” you choked out between sobs “I…oh screw it…I love you, Garreth Weasley! I have loved you since the moment I met you and I’ve been too scared to tell you. This whole trip I thought, maybe I can finally tell him, but now I’m sitting on the floor of a fucking cave, crying, soaking your jumper, and I just feel so ridiculous! How could you possibly love me back?” you sobbed even harder.

Garreth looked at you in shock. You thought your worst fear was confirmed - he didn’t feel the same. Dread over came you for a split second before he lunged at you, grabbing your face and smashing his lips into yours.

It took your brain a second to process what was happening before you began to melt into his kiss, humming against his lips. You mimicked his actions, putting your hands on the sides of his head to run your fingers through his soft red hair. Your kiss became more passionate with each passing second. You parted your lips to let his tongue enter, and he repeated your action. Your tongues danced as you explored each other's mouths for several minutes before begrudgingly pulling away. You rested your foreheads against each other, trying to catch your breath.

“I…I love you too!” Garreth finally spoke. “I love you so much! I always worried I was too much for you, too much of a troublemaker. You could have any guy in this school. I didn’t think I stood a chance…but I…I love you!”

He lunged for your mouth once again, kissing you hard. You were still seated on the ground, but began to lean back, eventually lying down, taking Garreth with you as you gently pulled him by his tie, situating him on top of you. He adjusted himself so that he was lying between your legs, your skirt hiked up past your knees to accommodate him. His arms were outstretched on either side of your body, and your arms were around his neck. He looked you over with affection. You had seen him happy before plenty of times; the times he brewed something that didn’t blow up a classroom, whenever he found a rare ingredient, when his favorite foods were for dinner, and especially when you were together. This, however, was the most happy you had ever seen him, and it was beautiful.

Your hands moved to begin unbuttoning his shirt. He gasped softly, indicating some nervousness. “I…I’ve never done this before…but I want to do this with you…are you sure you’re up for this…with me?” His voice was soft and full of love. “Yes! Yes of course! I’ve never done this either, but there’s no one else I’d rather do this with than you.” You said as you gazed lovingly into his eyes, still unbuttoning him. He smiled and sat up so he could rid himself of the shirt. You made quick work of the rest of your clothes, and you took a moment to absorb what was about to happen.

Here you were, naked, on the floor of a dark, dirty tunnel underneath your school with the man you loved. Your heart was racing, your skin felt hot, and you felt wet (in a good way) between your thighs. You looked him over. The same freckles on his face that you loved so much peppered his entire body and he had a small trail of red hair under his belly button going down. He was gorgeous. Garreth also took a moment to absorb what was about to happen. The love of his life, here, waiting for him to claim her as his own. Granted, he would have preferred this moment happen somewhere more romantic, but alas. You had been sitting up while undressing, so you threw your arms around Garreth to bring him into a deep kiss, pulling him down and on top of you again.

As you kissed, one of his hands moved down your body, passing your stomach and slipping two fingers between your lips. You let out a soft hum in response. He moved his fingers down over your entrance and back up again, getting a feel for you and coating his fingers in your juice, before he settled on your most sensitive spot, pressing down and rubbing slow circles. He didn’t take his eyes off you, watching you squirm beneath him as your lips let out soft moans.

After many more beautiful moans from you, he brought his fingers down to your entrance. He looked up at you, a silent request in his eyes. You smiled, giving him a silent answer. Without breaking eye contact with you, he slowly slid his two fingers inside. You let out a loud whimper at the action, feeling a bit of pressure. He asked if you were okay and you nodded, begging him to keep going. You got used to the feeling of his fingers after a few seconds, and he began slowly moving his fingers in and out of you, which made you moan louder than before.

Garreth couldn’t believe how beautiful you looked and sounded receiving such pleasure, and from him no less. He began roughly pumping his hand, thoroughly working you with his fingers. Your walls were beginning to tighten around him. He noticed how close to release you were, and leaned down to whisper softly in your ear: “That’s it, my sweet girl, please come for me.” His words broke you as you let out a moan, waves of pleasure crashing over you. He removed his wet fingers from you, and stuck them in his mouth, sucking them clean.

In one quick motion, he adjusted his body so that his head was right between your thighs, his face so close to your center, you could feel his breath. He gazed up at you, lust in his eyes. “Looks like you made a bit of a mess here, my sweet girl. That won’t do. Don’t worry, I’ll clean you up.” He said before diving in. You let out a loud whimper, grateful that no one could probably hear you down here. He worked his tongue on you, lapping up your previous release, as well as lightly sucking on your sensitive spot. You were seeing stars. It was shocking how quickly you were approaching your second release of the night.

Garreth let out a deep groan against you. “You taste so sweet, baby. Sweeter than anything at Honeydukes. Are you going to come for me again? Need to taste your sweetness again.” He was a man drunk off of you. A few more sucks and licks from him and you were a goner, your hands flying into his hair as you bucked your hips into him. Cries of his name escaped you as you released, and he responded with his own moans.

You lay there panting while he cleaned you up a second time, licking your orgasm from you thoroughly, Garreth letting out soft hums as he did so. When he was done you were face to face again, the lower half of his face wet and shiny. He looked so beautiful, and you couldn’t help but pull him in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.

Garreth then sat back up on his knees, staring at you and slowly stroking himself, beads of wetness already present on his pink tip. “Are you ready, sweetheart?” He asked breathlessly. You nodded, watching him, the hunger for him increasing with every stroke. Garreth repositioned himself back between your legs, coating himself in the new wetness that had already started to form in the short amount of time since he cleaned you up, before lining himself up at your entrance. “We’ll start slow, okay?” Garreth’s voice was soft and gentle. He looked deep into your eyes, and without breaking eye contact, he slowly slid inside.

Even knowing how wet you were, you expected your body to give some kind of resistance, but it didn’t. He slid in easily and deep, and the pain you felt from the intrusion lasted for only a second before it changed to a feeling of pleasure. You both let out loud moans upon entry, and he took a moment to make sure you were okay, only moving when you assured him you were. He thrusted in and out of you at a slow but steady pace, never pulling out completely before pushing back in. “You’re doing so good, sweet girl! You feel amazing!” He groaned.

You adjusted your legs so that they were higher up and wrapped around his back, which allowed him deeper access to you. “OH FUCK!” you yelled in ecstasy as your body adjusted to this new position. “Someone likes that, huh?” He replied with a chuckle before he sped up a bit, groans coming from his beautiful lips. “Look at you. You’re taking me so well. You’re being such a good girl for me!”

The two of you were panting and moaning loudly, every thrust from him made you feel like your body was on fire. Garreth motioned for you to turn around so he could take you from behind. With you on your hands and knees and his fingers digging into your hips, he thrusted into you like his life depended on it. You knew you were going to break soon. He took one hand off your hip to give your ass a squeeze, followed by a light slap. This made you yelp, not in pain but in surprise, which in turn brought a hearty chuckle out of him. His laugh brought on a light laugh from you that drifted into a moan as you let your pleasure consume you completely. You adjusted your position again, resting on your forearms instead of hands and pushing your hips up so that you were at an angle, allowing Garreth to sink even deeper into you. He growled in appreciation, his growl drifting into another chuckle.

You began to back into his thrusts, knowing your next release was moments away. He squeezed your ass again as your walls began to clench around him. You broke once again, screaming through what was no doubt your most violent release of the night. You stopped moving to catch your breath. He hadn’t stopped however, thrusting even harder to bring himself to completion. You started meeting his thrusts again, eager to please him the way he had pleased you. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, OH FUCK” he shouted as he finally found his release, his warm liquid painting your insides. You moaned at the feeling of him emptying himself inside of you. The two of you collapsed onto the ground, needing several minutes to compose yourselves.

Your brain felt jumbled. Only a few hours ago you were uncertain if Garreth felt anything towards you. Now you were lying on the ground with his seed inside of you. You knew you'd be in pain tomorrow from the hard ground you two were lying on, but you didn't care. You loved him and he loved you. You were his. He finally moved and leaned over you, lowering his head down to kiss you softly.

“I love you. I love you so much. I feel like this goes without saying after…uh..this…” he gestured broadly around before continuing, “…but I would love nothing more than to call you mine. Do you want to be my girlfriend? I mean honestly I’d love for you to be my wife, but we can always work on that later, so I guess girlfriend first, right? Unless you want to get married right now…no no…girlfriend first!” he chuckled. There was the silly, goofy Garreth you had fallen in love with.

“I think I should probably be your girlfriend first, but I’m not opposed to being your wife eventually!” You said with a wink. He kissed you once again and then proceeded to stand up, offering his hands out to help you up. The two of you got dressed again, your clothes still damp, but it would have to do. You had no intention of returning the jumper he gave you once it dried up, and you figured he wouldn’t mind.

“So, I think it’s about time to do the thing we ACTUALLY came here to do.” Garreth said with a laugh. “Oh, you mean we didn’t travel through this ridiculously long and complicated passageway just to shag on the floor?” You replied sarcastically. He gave you the same cheeky smile he had given you earlier in the day, as he lit the pyres to open the stone door, and made his way over to the ladder.

He climbed up and opened the door slightly, checking to make sure the coast was clear before he motioned for you to join him. Upon ascending the ladder, you were finally in the Honeydukes basement, the smell of sweets filling your nose. Garreth found the Billywig stings he was looking for quickly, and packed them in his bag. He also grabbed a random assortment of chocolates and sweets, also shoving them in his bag. You gave him a confused look when he did this, to which he replied “What? We worked up quite the sweat back there, I’m hungry.” You sighed and rolled your eyes at him.

He took a hold of your hand and led you up some stairs to a door which would bring you into the actual shop. Garreth cast a disillusionment charm and slightly opened the door, poking his head out, listening for any sounds. After a few seconds he opened the door wide and took the charm off, leading you out into the shop. Based on the amount of light that was coming in, it must have been early morning, the sun only just starting to rise. Once again, Garreth peeked out the front door to make sure you wouldn’t draw attention to yourselves exiting the shop this early in the morning, and once there was nobody around, you exited.

“Well that was quite the adventure!” you sighed as the two of you walked hand in hand back towards Hogwarts. “You see, you DO love getting into trouble with me!” he said as he squeezed your hand lovingly.

He was right. And you couldn’t wait to find out what trouble you’d get into next.

---

#garreth weasley #garreth weasley x mc #garreth weasley smut #weasley wednesday #garreth weasley x you

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littlepadika · 3 years ago

Note

🎀 pink (Din)

🧼 laundry detergent (fake dating)

🍄cottage core (innocent kink)

with some fluff and smut included maybe?? 🥺👉👈💘

Hi @ppslutt I don't think we've interacted so hello! Thank you for this request! Omg i am both soft and amused by this idea. Hope you like this... Din is such a cheeky bb but at the same time a feral fucking machine hehe

500 follower celebration (closed now)

Warnings: Asshole ex boyfriend, protective mando, innocent reader, unprotected piv smut, fingering, 18+

source: @reilink

"Can I sit here?"

Din startled. He had been glaring holes into the metal table at the cantina for so long he almost forgot there were other people around. He was in between bounties. Waiting for Karga to come up with something worth his time.

He nodded at the seat across from him which you fell into. He would usually say no, preferring to be left alone, but you were hardly a threat. Young and apparently unarmed. You looked stressed. Eyes darting all over the room. Were you in trouble?

"Thank you." You tapped your fingertips on the table. "My ex is here and I don't want him to see me alone."

"Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"No." You stare down at your lap. "I just don't want to talk to him."

That made sense, but Din couldn't understand why you were talking to him specifically. Most people feared Mandalorians. He expected you to want to hire him or ask him to kill your ex. You glanced over your shoulder. Din followed your gaze, identifying the man in question, an arrogant looking human with his arm around a girl with her back to you both.

"I'll leave you alone in a minute." You turned your attention back to him. "What's your name, sir?"

"Mando." He grunted. You replied with your name. Din's ears perked up when he heard it. The sound of it echoing in his mind. He had never heard such a name before. "Have you ever seen a Mandalorian before?" Din couldn't help but ask.

"Is that what you are?" You felt embarrassed at his amused tone. "Am I supposed to bow or something?"

Din chuckled, which came out as a crackle through the voice coder. "No. But people tend to stay away from me because- because we're killers."

"Oh." You swallowed a gasp. It never occurred to you to be afraid. "I didn't know. I've never been off world."

"What the fuck are you doing here?" You snapped your head up to see your ex standing over you, an angry look on his face. "I thought you didn't like going out."

"I-I can go where I please!" You jut your chin out.

"Fucking bitch. You're just spying on me, aren't you?" Your ex spat. Din clenched his fist, not liking the way this bastard was speaking to you. He could easily break this man's arm and hardly break a sweat.

"I'm not!" You cried shrilly. "I didn't know you'd even be here."

"What are you doing with him?" Your ex turned to Mando with a sneer. "Tryin to make me jealous?"

"Obviously it worked." You glared. "Now go away."

"No hang on- you're gonna come with me and we're gonna talk."

"I think it's time for you to go." Din rested his hand on his holster, his voice impossibly low. You shivered in your seat.

"Whatever." The man gave up, backing up a little. "Good luck with this one, Mando. She's a prude."

You looked down in shame feeling angry tears sting your eyes. It was hard to believe you once loved this asshole. Din felt his temper flare in his chest. Your ex finally left, looking over his shoulder a few times to watch you and Din.

"I'm sorry." You wrapped your arms around yourself. "I'll leave you alone now."

"I don't mind." Din said, surprising himself. He hated seeing you so upset. He thought about going up to that bastard and putting a hole in his chest, but that wouldn't make you feel better. "Can I get you something?"

"I don't know." You looked up at the bar trying to read the menu overhead.

"What kind of fake boyfriend would I be?" Din joked, hoping to see you smile. It worked. You let out a small giggle into your hand that made Din's heart constrict strangely. He ordered you a Tatooine Sunset.

"You don't want one?"

"No. Thank you." Din hesitated before adding "I don't remove my helmet."

"Ever?" Your eyes widened.

"Not in front of people."

"Oh." You took a small sip. "It's really yummy. Thank you."

Din noticed the prick from earlier still watching you both. "Come over here, ad'ika." He tapped the seat next to him.

"Why?" You asked, looking up from your cup.

"Because that nurf herder is watching us."

"Oh." You frowned, moving to sit next to Mando.

"Lean into me."

"Like this?" You asked again, tilting your head onto his cold beskar paldron.

"Yes. Good." Din nodded, enjoying the look of anger that passed over that bastard's face. "Sit closer."

"I-I am." You blushed, moving until your legs were pressed against him. He wasn't super comfortable with all the metal.

"On my lap, ad'ika." Din patted his thigh. He was being bold but something about your instant trust in him made him want to hold you closer. Feel your soft body on his. You go bright red as you stand and then perch on his knee. His gloved hand covered your lower back.

"Look at him." Din instructed, smirking behind his helmet.

"Oh he's so mad." You giggled. "This is fun, mando."

"It is, ad'ika." Din couldn't' help but agree.

"Wh-what does adeeka mean?" Your tongue got caught on the syllables.

"It means 'little one'."

"I'm-i'm not a child." You frowned, ducking your head. A weak objection as you were sitting in his lap right now.

"It's not just for children." Din placed another arm around your legs, pulling them more securely onto his lap. He regretted that he was in full armor because he could not feel you but that was also probably a good thing or else he'd be hard. You smelled divine.

"Mando he's still staring." You whispered against his cowl which was surprisingly soft.

"Shall we make him even more uncomfortable?"

"Mhm." You nodded, kissing Mando on his cool beskar helmet, where his cheek would be. "How's that?"

"You can do better than that." Din encouraged, enjoying the little game.

"Oh yeah!" You grinned, feeling your competitive spirit rising. "How about this?" You lowered your head, leaning against his neck, kissing him through the cowl. You could feel his warm neck and strong pulse against your lilps. He swallowed hard, his hand tightening over your thigh.

"We should walk out now. Really make him jealous." Din suggested, mostly to stop you from giving him a full on erection.

"Oh yeah." You hopped off his lap, taking his large leather clad hand in yours. "Come on."

Once outside in the warm sun you laughed at your antics. You had never had so much fun. You used to fear your ex. He was mean and cruel. You felt safe now that you had Mando. You tried not to worry what would happen when Mando was gone. Din watched you hungrily, beaming up at him, your face lit up in the daylight. He subtly turned off his tracking view in his visor so he could just see you without any distractions on his screen.

"Thank you Mando."

"You're welcome." He let go of your hand making your face fall. "What's wrong?"

"I want to keep playing."

"What do you propose?" Din felt his cock twitch behind his flight suit.

"I think he would be really jealous if I had marks on my neck." You suggested boldly. Din shook his head in disbelief.

"You are not a prude, you know that? I'm sorry he said that to you."

"I was only a prude with him. He was ugly." You grimaced but recovered. "You're beautiful, Mando, and I want- I want you. Not just to make him jealous but I want you."

"Oh Ad'ika..." Din chuckled. "We can do both."

This led to Din taking you in the alleyway behind the cantina. First he knelt down between your legs and fingered you until you were dripping into his hand. He wanted to watch your little cunt squeeze and flutter. Your little mewls grew louder and louder until you came with a cry. Din loved how innocent you were. You didn't even know how to be quiet. You didn't hide your pleasure. He hoped your shitty ex was listening. Hearing your sounds that he never got to draw from you.

Next he stood lifting you up with ease onto his hips. You were already delirious from your first orgasm you shot up to the stars when he entered you. You tightened your legs around his waist, holding onto his broad shoulders. All thoughts of being seen or herd left your mind. You were overwhelmed, Mando pushing into every corner of your senses along with your pussy.

"Fuck..." Din grunted, feeling your hot walls suck him to the hilt. It had been so long he realized how sensitive he was. And you were so tight. He held your ass up, pulling it to grind into him with every stroke.

"Oh Mando!" Your head fell back against the wall. "This-it's so good."

"Mmm you feel amazing, ad'ika. So fucking perfect." Din watched your face slacken with the pleasure he was giving you, your plush lips teasing him. He wanted to feel them. He wanted to put his lips over every inch of you. Your eyes were drooping, staring right into his visor.

"Stay with me, little one. Look- look at us." He fucked harder, leaning back slightly despite the ache in his lower back, watching the point where your flesh met. Your little swollen clit was sitting right on top of his dick, smashing against his pelvis with every stroke.

"Oh-Maker-I'm gonna cum again." You cried, scrabbling against his shoulders for better leverage. You wanted to fuck him back. Din readjusted his grip allowing one hand to be free to circle your clit.

"Who's making you cum?"

"You! You, Mando!" You cried feeling your stomach go incredibly tight then spasming with your orgasm.

"You think anyone else could make you feel this?" Din sped up also nearing his own climax. His voice was rough and torn up, cracking and stressing the voicecoder.

"No-no one else!" You answered eagerly, wanting to please him. "I don't want anyone else."

"Good girl. Fuck- you want to be mine?" He felt his cock twitching. He was seconds away from cumming inside of you. This was the last chance to pull out.

"I want to-be yours- please." You nodded vigorously, looking up at him so he could see you meant it. You dug your heels into his lower back. His grunts became short and quick with each thrust then he came abruptly, crashing his forehead against yours. You gasped feeling the spot where you were joined grow incredibly wet.

"Stars..." Din hissed feeling his pleasure prickle down his spine into his cock. "You mean it, ad'ika?"

"Yes. Show me the stars, Mando."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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hellothere-generalangsty · 3 years ago

Text

The Bad Batch - Quart d’Heure Américain

Summary: In French, we use the expression “quart d’heure Américain” (lit. “American quarter”; I think it’s “Lady’s choice” in English) to talk about that moment during an evening out/ a party where they play slows and couples dance together (very sweet and romantic, yes)

So here is the Quart d’Heure Américain, Bad Batch Edition™

Pairing: Crosshair x reader; Echo x reader; Hunter x reader; Tech x reader; Wrecker x reader; the Bad Batch x reader

Reader description: f!reader [she/her], no real physical description

Word Count: 5463 words

CW/ TW: Nothing, just pure fluff and cute relationships (some established, one not quite yet) also there’s a LIL BIT of someone being sad/ a LIL BIT in pain BUT promise it doesn’t last and it gets all soft

Tags: @loth-wolffe @m-o-o-n-s-g-o-o-n-s @allamarisss

@imalovernotahater @murdertoothpick (if you want to be added to the tag list for future stories/ if you want to be removed and not tagged again, please let me know! )

Notes: This is for you all, because you deserve it and I hope it’ll sooth whatever you need soothed; and here is a quote that quite grasp the concept of this small fic

“Quand je danse, je danse” –Montaigne (“when I dance, I dance”; enjoy the moment and don’t think about anything else)

Crosshair: Something Stupid – Nancy Sinatra, Frank Sinatra (1177 words)

Had someone asked you beforehand, you never would have been able to tell that Crosshair was an amazing dancer. You didn’t expected him to invite you out that night, especially not when everyone in town was speaking about this Dancing Night. But he did, and now he was next to you, moving like he had done it all his life.

“You’re doing great, mesh’la,” he complimented as you tripped on your feet.

“I already told you,” you nodded a thank you when he helped you get back up, “I don’t understand Mando’a.”

Well, you did, but only a few words. You grew used to them, because Crosshair would use them all the time when speaking to you, but never once did he told you what they meant. So you did what every logical person would have done, and asked Tech.

“Well, mesh’la could be translated to ‘beautiful’, and cyare to something like ‘love’ or ‘my heart’. Why you asking?”

“I heard that on the radio, in a song once and I just wanted to know what it meant. Thanks Tech!”

And you had left him as soon as he was done explaining their meaning to you, because the more you stayed here, the more he could guess why you really asked. But you didn’t want Crosshair to stop calling you mesh’la or cyare. It sounded so peculiar when he would whisper it close to your ear as he would walk behind you; “out of my way mesh’la”, “you truly are a lost cause, cyare”. It wasn’t really a lie not to tell him you knew; more of a covered truth.

The song changed and went from a catchy tone to a slower, more sensual one. Crosshair waited for you to come to him before gently grasping your waist, a hand holding your own, fingers folded around yours. He pulled you closer, so close you could feel his chest moving according to his breath. You looked straight at him, trying to decipher his expression, to find any feeling uncovered behind those bewitching whisky eyes.

“Are you scanning me?” he softly asked.

“Maybe.” you confessed. “I want to know what’s going on behind this pretty face.”

It slipped out. You didn’t mean to say that; yes, he had a pretty face, yes you meant it, but-

“I think, about you mostly.”

Ho.

“You’re…pretty.” He sharply nodded, as a way to keep up his facade. You almost tripped over again, so taken aback by his little confession.

“Sorry,” you muttered, “sorry, I- that’s very… very kind of you to say.”

He didn’t say anything, but the grip on your waist tightened. You decided to try it, and slowly came to rest your head on his chest. You could hear his heart beating, muffled by the layers of skin and cloth. You felt a cold spot on your waist, and a hand brushing your hair off of your face, tucking them behind your ear before resting on your shoulder.

You couldn’t yet guess it, but he was craving for more, he wanted you closer to him, wanted to bury his face in your neck, hum your scent and kiss you all the way to your jawline, your cheek, the tip of your nose; and your lips.

But never once did he flinch, or let out any sign of his heart bleeding to feel you so close, yet so out of reach. Instead he held you there, slowly leading the dance, almost silently telling you to “move left, come back to me, and left again; great job mesh’la”.

He couldn’t yet guess it, but you were craving for more. More Mando’a’s nicknames, more gentle touch on your face and body, maybe a bit of appreciation in his eyes, a bit of love on his mouth.

And you thought you could hold on, spend the night glued to his body, feeling the warmth of his embrace, the delicacy of his moves; and still be able to pull out a straight face, to pretend mesh’la and cyare were unknown words to you, that your heart wasn’t racing at the sole thought of getting more.

But you didn’t.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum”.

It slipped out tenderly, purposefully. And this time, he almost tripped on his feet.

“What did you say?”

You raised your head, taking a small step back to look at him in the eyes.

“I said I love you, but I guess my accent sucks a bit. I- I asked Tech about it last time.” You confessed in a small voice.

Crosshair couldn’t even speak anymore. He completely stopped moving, staring at you like you were the only one here, with him.

“Look, we can just…forget about it if yo-”

“Shut up.”

Your eyes widened at the command, and nothing could have prepared you to the devastatingly exquisite sensation of his lips brushing against yours before completely diving in. Nothing could compare to the fire in your belly, to the sweet bite on your lower lip, his teeth briefly pulling on it before letting go; and the overwhelming sensation filling your mouth as his tongue caressed yours in a heated, terribly slow kiss.

None of you could pull away; if he tried to release your lips, you would dive right back in, and if you gasped for air he would barely give you time to breathe before coming back to you. He couldn’t resist the urge to hold you tight in his arms, and you were too afraid of letting go so you firmly held his face against yours.

You felt his weight shifting to the left, then to the right, and once again you followed his lead. You felt it, the uncontrollable grin against your mouth, and the way he spin round with you, making sure no one else but you existed in that moment.

When you finally let go of each other, you were both heavily breathing, and a mutual stare was enough to get you both chuckling like kids.

Yes, you loved him, with all of your heart and soul, and you would gladly learn more Mando’a if it got you that type of enthusiastic reaction every time you did so.

“Your accent is actually quite cute,” he managed to tell you, and your smile only grew wider, and his eyes only got lovelier. “But maybe you should say it again, just in case it was luck.”

“I sure will, but I think I need you to tell me; how do you say it, again?”

He shook his head, both defeated and amused.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum”, you repeated, and he nodded in approval. “I think I won this round.”

“You did.”

He grabbed your arms and pulled you closer, leaving small misses on your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and your lips. The song was over; it had been for a few minutes now; but you didn’t care. Crosshair was still dancing with you, his hands on your back, a smile on his face; and maker he was even more handsome when he smiled. You had him, and he had you, and you were glad you said something as stupid and childish, and sincere and deep as this.

I love you.

Echo: Everybody Loves Somebody – Dean Martin (1168 words)

“Alright, open your eyes.”

Echo’s voice tickled your ear, making you smile. Your eyes had no trouble getting used to the light outside; it was dusk already, and a small campfire was gently crackling a few meters away from the Havoc Marauder. Earlier that day, you made a stop on an isolated planet to get some supplies and land foot for the night. It was a quiet place, mostly villages and beautiful landscapes, covered in grass, moss, and flowers like you’d never seen before.

Echo asked you to wait inside, and it had been almost an hour, but now that you were standing here…

“Is it…Did you do that for me?”

“I’d dare say for us,” Echo smiled, “today is a special day for us, remember?”

Ho.

“You forgot, right?”

“Echo, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Don’t be! I kinda hoped you would, this way it could be a real surprise for you.”

You couldn’t quite tell what about him always got you flustered. Maybe the way he was fondly looking at you, or the softness in his voice when he whispered “Surprise!”, or how he left your side for a moment, bending over the blanket to grab a small package before giving it to you.

“I don’t have anything for you,” you quietly confessed.

“Take it.”

You accepted the gift, giving him another look of apology, but all you saw in his eyes was…something soft – soft and loving.

You carefully unwrapped the paper, exposing a Tooka plush, proudly wearing the colours of the Bad Batch.

“I thought it was more than time for you to have your own.” he said as he got closer to you, a smile glued to his face. “Do you like it?”

You barely nodded, too occupied trying to decipher your gift. The limbs were gracefully mixing a red and black pattern, and the symbol of the Republic’s paramedic had been carefully stitched in white, where the heart should be. You softly stroke it, the tip of your finger following the edges of the seam.

“I.. I love it,” you couldn’t help but smile at the attention. “I’ll call him Handsome Jr.”

“Whatever pleases you, love.”

You shifted you attention to Echo, the lovely grin on his face making your heart melt even more. You closed the gap between the two of you, wrapping your arms around his waist, just above his prosthetics. He held you against his chest, resting his chin on your head.

“I’ll get you something tomorrow, I’ll be up before the sun.”

“I already have everything I need, cyare.”

“Echo…,” you chuckled, “I don’t want you to get nothing. It’s an important date for us.”

“Well, if you insist…There is something you could do for me.”

“Anything, Handsome.”

He waited an instant, savouring your embrace.

“Would you dance with me? The way we did that night?”

You remembered that night. It was quite some time ago, before the Citadel. Echo invited you to the base you were both settled in for the night, on Corusant. His general gave his troopers a night off, and his first thought was to take you out on a date. You remembered the way Fives came up your office, panting, still fully armoured, and asked you to follow him. You didn’t know it at the time, but Echo and some of his brothers were taking care of decorating and preparing dinner.

You remembered the cantina being empty, except for a table with two plates and beautiful flowers in a glass way too small for them; and how every clone you had crossed path with in the hallway innocently smiled at you. They knew, obviously, but none of them made any comment, only wishing you a good night.

You remembered Echo, blacks on and slightly stylised for the occasion, offering his hand to you for a dance. And you repeated the answer you gave him that night.

“Of course, Handsome. I’d love that.”

He took a step back, looking at you intensely, falling in love all over again with the shape of your face, the light in your eyes, and the delicacy of your lips. He wanted to kiss them, so badly, but there was still something to do before that.

A static sound resonated behind you, and a voice emerged from it.

“Not that- The other one, Tech.” Echo threw a look at his brother, who was already changing the station, until he got the right one. He then barely let slip a “Pretend I don’t exist.” before disappearing inside the ship.

“Sounds familiar,” you joked, thinking about the way Fives did the same things all those years ago.

“Some things never change, right?”

You didn’t need to hear the end of the sentence; his eyes were speaking for him. He brought you closer, his prosthetic arm gently pressing your waist as his left hand held yours. The Citadel changed him, but deep down he was; and would always be, your Echo.

“You’re so beautiful, my pretty boy,” you said, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “Some things indeed never change.”

He chuckled and started moving his legs, inviting you to follow his lead. He never really had a chance to dance since he joined the Bad Batch, but tonight; tonight was all he needed. Holding you close, smelling your hair, delicately balancing you on your left, a step back, on your left, a step back…

“Your love made it worth waiting.”

You slowly raised your head until you could look at him. His eyes were shining, wet from the emotion, filled with adoration and fond memories of you both. You smiled, trying to swallow the knot forming in your throat. His hold on you was so gentle, his smile so sincere. You knew he was falling in love with you all over again. You knew, because you were too.

You let your hand slide to his neck, pushed yourself on your tiptoes until you could feel his warm breath tickling your face. He tightened his grip, pressing his lips against yours, abandoning himself in your arms, making you feel like nothing but you mattered.

His kiss was gentle, he took the time to taste you, for the first time, the hundredth, the thousandth; it didn’t matter. Even after all these years, he couldn’t get used to the softness of your lips, the warmth of your tongue, the dizziness in his head and the knots in his stomach when you were confessing, wordlessly, your love for him.

Nothing broke you apart. The sun could go down, the song could stop, but none of it mattered, because all you truly needed was each other.

“Waiting for someone like you.” you finally replied.

“Waiting for you, and only you.”

You kissed him again, taking great delight in the sensation of your pounding heart, of his tongue against yours, of his hand letting go of yours to slim on your waist, down to you hip, finding his way to the back of your pant.

He was all you ever needed.

Hunter: Ain’t No Mountain High Enough – Marvin Gaye (989 words)

“Everyone, out, let’s go.”

Hunter waved his hand toward the door, a tired, maybe a bit painful expression glued to his face. Hi brothers obeyed, knowing what it meant, and left the room in silence. You tried to copy them, because you knew Hunter was getting overwhelmed by his senses; it happened sometimes, and you knew you couldn’t sooth his pain by remaining with him. But he firmly pressed his hand against your chest.

“Not you.”

Echo closed the door behind the two of you, giving you a sympathetic look before disappearing behind the grey metal sliding. Hunter tilted his head back until it touched the cold wall behind him, letting a long sigh slip from between his lips.

“Could you turn off the light, please?” he barely whispered to you, eyes closed.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t say, and switched the light off. All that remained was the small, dim blue light above your head. Tech had it installed after a bad power cut that lasted three days. Hunted asked for the blue shade, because it was the one which was the less aggressive to his eyes. You liked it, because it nicely highlighted his features, blending his tattoo a bit more with his skin, making the marking look almost natural.

You could hear him, deeply inhaling, slowly exhaling; probably trying to sooth the pain away. After a moment, he opened his hand to you, and you gently took it, slightly stroking the skin on his palm with the tip of your thumb.

“Love you.”

You softly kissed his knuckles.

“Missed you, too.”

His voice was barely breaking the silence of the room, but you still heard him relaxing a bit more.

“Can you hug me, sweetheart?”

He couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes, even if he truly wanted to. He managed to cut off sound and light, because he wanted to focus on your touch, and your touch only. And it felt great when your arms delicately wrapped him, when your body pressed against his, holding still as you listened to his heartbeat.

“Is it okay like this?” you asked, and he nodded, a light smile on his face. “I love you too.”

He straightened up his head, blindly stroking your back, his hand getting lower and lower…

“I see what this was all about.” And the smile in your voice betrayed you, and the chuckle he let out showed you he felt a bit better.

“I just wanted some time with you, sweet thing” Hunter stated, innocent.

“Well, here I am now, pretty boy.”

He finally opened his eyes, taking a few seconds to get used to the lighting, but immediately shifting his attention to you, your face. You were another kind of beautiful; the kind he could hold against him at night when he had troubles sleeping; the kind that could sit on his lap, telling him all about your day while he stroked your hair; the kind of beautiful that he never knew he could have.

He gave you a soft kiss, humming your scent as his lips brushed yours, and you tried as hard as you could not to make it too much for him. But how could you, when he tightened his embrace, humming to you that song you liked so much, when you could feel his warm breath against the crook of your neck, and his low, slightly raspy whispering in your ear.

“From that day on, I made a vow…” a kiss on your skin, “I’ll be there when you want me…” another kiss, gentle, loving.

He pushed himself away from the wall, his head buried against you, singing to you the way you liked it, and it came naturally to you both. He balanced you one side, you came back and led him to the other side, and you kept going like this, following the low rhythm of his voice, barely giggling when he would – more or less in a dramatic and theatrical movement – bend you over like in those holomovies, pressing kisses against your neck, your jawline, crawling his way back to your mouth.

That mouth. Hunter missed it so much, the way you moved it, the softness of your lips, the warmth of your tongue, and the tight embrace as you tried to remember each curve, each spot; barely biting his lip to let you know you were here, you missed him too.

And you couldn’t help but fall in love again when he kept humming against you, when he led your hands to his lower back, a grin painting itself as they slid down the back of his pants.

“I love your heart,” he told you, lips on your skin, “the way it beats. I hear it pumping faster when I hold you, and- maker, I love it.”

He abandoned your neck for a moment, diving into your eyes like it was the first time ever, hypnotised by the blue reflection on your iris.

“I love you, the way you feel under my fingers,” he touched your face with the tip of his thumb, “the way your brush your hair over your shoulder, how you always come back to me when the lights are out and the night is still; I love you and your smile,” you granted him one, tender and oh so caring, “and your eyes, and your mouth. I love how you move your hips when you dance with me, how you crave for closeness, and how I can’t do anything but offer it to you every time, all the time.”

And you knew words couldn’t possibly offer a good answer, so you simply hummed back.

“Nothing could keep me from getting to you, baby.”

He let out a sweet laugh, kissing your nose and the top of your head, seeking for your embrace once again as you led him dancing.

“I know, sweetheart.”

And I love you for that, too.

Tech: My Guy (Single Version) Mary Wells (1078 words)

You didn’t expected Tech to ask you out tonight. He was usually quite content living around the Marauder, but when you walked next to that clothing shop, something ticked in him. He dragged you in, told you all about the different tissues, how the colours were applied, how the stitches on this dress were obviously done by Twi’leks because you see that little knot? This is a signature from the crafters, more precisely from the members of a tribe that moved around…

You loved hearing him talking. Sometimes you would ask him a question, fully aware of the answer, simply because you were eager to hear it coming from him. And every time, without any hesitation, he would answer with as much precision as possible. He probably didn’t know it, but it was one of the reason you fell for him.

“What about this one, cyar’ika?”

“This one would fit you perfectly.” he had held the dress against your body, bending his back to get a better look at it. “The colour matches your skin tone and the shape would really highlight the curves of your hips.”

“Then I’ll take this one.” You had nodded with a smile.

And now, a few hours later, you were wearing said dress while walking to the counter of the restaurant to order another drink. As the bartender was pouring a blue liquid in a fancy glass, a man smoothly accosted you.

“Were you sculpted out of Kyber crystal? Because you sure bring some light in here.”

“Thanks, but it’s mostly because my cyare chose that dress for me,” you confessed.

“Well, he sure have good tastes,” he took a step back and pursued, “may I ask which one of these…?”

He threw a look at the tables around, and you pointed to the one where Tech was visibly waiting for you, waving when he noticed you looking at him.

“Is it…Is it him?”

“It is indeed,” you fondly smiled.

“Well, at least he got some taste in dresses and women,” he conceded, visibly surprised by his “intellectual” look. But you couldn’t care less, because he didn’t had Wrecker’s body, or Hunter’s features; but he had soft shapes and sweet lips, he knew everything there was to know, and even more, because he loved learning almost as much as he loved you.

You grabbed your drinks and started walking away, only turning around to slide a little “Glad you recognise it” before returning to your table. When you pushed his glass in front of him, Tech gently grasped your hand.

“Thank you for the drink,” he glanced at your body, a little something lightening his eyes, “and for buying that dress. You really are the prettiest.”

“I couldn’t be that pretty if I didn’t have you to tell me all about cloths, you know.”

“Love, you could wear sheets and you’d still be the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.”

You slightly bent over, bringing his hand close to your lips, kissing his knuckles as a thank you. There was a brief silence, Tech analysing every inch of your face, so focused on the curves of your lips and the shape of your eyes that he stopped talking.

And you heard it. The soft music playing in a corner of the room. When you looked behind Tech, you noticed a jukebox, and a few people dancing. You got up, pulling on Tech’s arm to drag him with you to that part of the room. He tried to protest, but the way you moved in that dress, how it fell oh so delicately on your knees… He couldn’t resist.

He grabbed your waist, offering you a soft kiss on the cheek as you started swinging in rhythm, left, right, left, right, and a turn. In a second, you were barely touching his hand, and then you were pulled against him, spinning round until you crushed in his arms.

He chuckled, bewitched by your smile, your movements, and you could tell he only had eyes for you. Truth be told, he was all you could focus on too. Nothing could take your attention off your guy, because nothing could equal his lovely smile or the soft kisses he landed on your lips every time he pulled you against him before letting you spin away in rhythm.

“Cyar’ika, tell me all about dance.” You asked, panting a bit.

“Well, you have to be more precise, because there are a lot of dances out there,” he laughed, and you felt your heart melting at the warmth of his voice.

“Then tell me about all of them. Tell me about this one,” and you wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing slowly to calm your racing heart.

“This one would be a form of slow dancing, quite far from the twists and swings you did earlier,” he confessed in your ear, making you shiver. “but initially it was a- well, it depends of the planet actually, but it was originally a ritual to make official a relationship between different people.”

“So if you danced with someone, it meant you had a certain relationship with them?”

He firmly grabbed your waist, lifting you for a few seconds as he turned round.

“Exactly, it meant you shared a profound bond with them, that you were able to get comfortable with them being very close to you…”, he let you spin away from him, “or very far.”

You proudly smiled at him, letting go of his hand and taking a step back. He understood what you intended to do and grounded himself, catching you up without any problem as you run into his arms.

“Well,” you muttered in the crook of his neck, “I don’t want to be far from you, smart boy.”

“And I don’t want you away from me, pretty girl.”

You lifted your head to look at his eyes, filled with love and appreciation. The music stopped as you filled the gap between the two of you, kissing him with the same energy you had dancing. You could feel him smiling against your lips, carrying you like you weighted nothing until you let go, sliding back onto your feet.

You kissed him once again, a gentler contact, taking your time to memorize the shape of his mouth, the soft touch of his hands on your hips, the smooth tone he used to tell you how fitting this dress was.

Yeah, nothing could compare to your guy, your Tech.

Wrecker: You Aksed Me To Be Yours – The Tymes (972 words)

You knew the mission was rough when Wrecker struggled to give you a full smile as you entered the cockpit. He was sitting there, all alone, and your heart got tight when you heard his low “hi, mesh’la”.

“You want to talk about it?”

He refused with a shake of his head, visibly upset.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?”

“No, I want you to stay. I- I need company.”

You quietly nodded, offering your hand to him, which he held close to his heart. You kissed the top of his head, softly rubbing his check with your free hand. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting himself rest on the embrace, taking a long, deep breath.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered, “t’was a long day without you.”

“I’m here now.”

The remark made him smile a bit, as he realised that you were indeed here with him. He pulled you closer to him to hug you, straightening in his seat so you wouldn’t have to bend too much to snuggle in his arms.

“You smell good. You always smell good, it’s amazing.”

You slightly blushed, letting out an amused sigh. Even when things went wrong, he always found something positive to comment on. People usually looked at him as the “big dummy”, but you knew how sensitive and emotionally invested he really was, under all the muscles and loud exclamations.

“Do you think we could, like…get up for a bit?” he asked, hesitant.

“Sure, everything’s fine?” You let go of his grip and helped him get up. He wrapped his arms around you, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Yeah, t’s’all fine,” he murmured, “I just wanted us to stand.”

You rubbed his back, slow movements tracing imaginary lines and shapes against his blacks. He let out a sigh, tired yet satisfied. You felt the upper part of his body move; slightly at first, rocking from one side to the other. When he felt you following his lead, and with the absence of any question or remarks, he marked a more regular pace in his balancing.

You started humming, lips barely touching the skin on his neck, your warm breath tickling him until a light shiver shook his back. You left kisses, here and there, still humming the song you heard on the radio earlier that day. It was a beautiful ballad, something sweet about love and closeness. You found parts of Wrecker in the lyrics, and knew you’d have to sing it to him.

It wasn’t the first time Wrecker did something like that. Usually he would do it before going to bed, or after a long time away from you. He would grip you tight, whispering soft words to your ear, telling you how much he missed you, how pretty you were, how lucky he felt to have you in his life. But this time, you wanted to make that first move.

“I see that love is there, so real and so true…”

You felt his fingers tighten, then relax. The rocking slowly turned into a dance, moving step by step, never following a precise direction. Your voice was a balm to him, healing the wounds no one could see, covering his heart with warmth and love.

He slightly let go of you, just enough to dive into your eyes, scrutinizing the details in your iris, the way light reflected on them, adding to the sparkle they usually carried. You could see how his attention shifted from your eyes to your lips, then your eyes again, and the delicacy in his silent ask. You gave him your most heartfelt smile, and he leaned toward you, kissing you in a tender, desperate way, as if something or someone would come in at any moment and rip you both away from each other.

You let his tongue meet yours, dancing the way your bodies were. His hands left your waist, raising to cup your face and pulls you even closer to him. You held his wrists, preventing him from pulling away, savouring the taste of love coming out of his mouth.

He only broke the kiss when he truly needed to breathe, deeply inhaling and exhaling. You couldn’t stop a chuckle, to which he grinned.

“I know, I know…”

“How do you expect to kiss me if you faint?”

“I don’t know!” he laughed, his nose wrinkling in such a lovely way. You could read through him like an open book, and now you just knew he was contemplating how beautiful, and soft, and delicate you were. “I don’t know, I just want you. I want to hold you, and kiss you, and dance with you all night.”

You pecked his scarred cheek, nodded in approval.

“Then let’s dance all night, and hold onto each other, and kiss you breathless.”

He relaxed the tension in his shoulders, visibly happier than when you arrived.

“Can you sing that song again? I really liked it.”

His eyes gleamed with happiness when you took back where you stopped. You couldn’t tell if you got all the lyrics right, but it didn’t matter to Wrecker. You were here, ready to spend the whole night on your feet just to make him feel better, and it was already working so well. But he never told you so, too content to hug you and kiss you and feel you.

And you, of course you knew. But you played along, because you loved him so dearly, so profoundly that you could spend every night in this cockpit, humming and swinging with him, as long as you could feel his breath on your neck, his hands stroking your hair and your back, his lips pressing against your skin, where he knew he could get a shiver from you.

“Thank you, cyar’ika.”

“Anything for you, ner Wrecker.”

Anything for you.

________________

I hope you guys enjoyed it; it's really not the angsty stuff I was supposed to work on (that I will do now) but I guess I just had a soft spot for the boys tonight and the songs I listened to didn't help getting over this idea!

#the bad batch fic #tbb fic #crosshair x reader #echo x reader #hunter x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #soft batch #soft tbb #sw writing #mesa writes #the bad batch writing #Soft Hour for the Boys

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maybege · 3 years ago

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Birthday Party Adventures

Summary: With his daughter’s birthday party approaching, Paz has many plans to make it all go right. What he didn’t expect was for Emily to invite her teacher and his crush – you.

Pairing: single dad!Paz Vizsla x fem!teacher!Reader

Wordcount: 4.0k | Rating: T

Warnings: Modern AU, fluffy fluff

Oh I feel like it has been ages since I initially wrote this (back in September actually!) but I love it just as much as on the first day and I hope that you will enjoy it too! This is dedicated to my Paz Gang @aerynwrites @datmando @hdlynnslibrary @princessbatears and @stubbychaos who came up with this wonderful AU idea. ❤

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Paz was overwhelmed.

Paz was truly and utterly overwhelmed.

“Can I go and get my cereal?” Emily asked next to him, clearly bored with her father’s antics, “You will take ages to choose, Uncle Din was right.”

“All right, go ahead,” he mumbled, choosing to ignore the fact that Din had – once again – infiltrated his daughter’s thoughts with horrible lies. He did not take ages. Anybody would take as long as he was taking when the choices were so … vast.

Cake mix after cake mix was displayed in the aisle and how would he know which one he should get?

Emily’s birthday was this weekend – Saturday to be exact and he had promised her a cake. He always promised her a cake. And he always failed.

But not this time.

This time, he had listened to his best friend and would settle on a cake mix although he still felt like he was cutting corners. But at least it would not be store-bought. And, as Fennec had suggested, he could still buy some decorations to make the cake special.

Because that’s what Emily deserved – a special cake, made with love.

So, while his daughter was probably trying to find the sweetest cereal there was available, he tried to settle on a cake.

Deep down, Paz knew that Emily was probably eating way too much sugar. But to be honest, there were so many battles he could fight at once and he was more prepared to fight some judgmental soccer moms than the will of his own daughter.

Holding two cake mixes in his hands – birthday confetti and chocolate – Paz whipped around as he heard an all too familiar voice greet him. “Mr Vizsla, it is so nice to see you.”

There you were.

The woman of his dreams.

Emily’s teacher.

Stars, he knew he was probably acting absolutely ridiculous around you. No matter what kind of school event there was, as one of Emily’s main teachers you were always around he was never able to take his eyes off you.

Not only were you pretty and smart but you were kind. You kept all the kids in check with a calmness that he admired you for and he could see how you valued each and every student in your class. And now you were here, wrapped in an oversized cardigan and clutching a shopping basket in your hands.

But you beamed at him and he was sure he’d never seen anything prettier.

Forgotten were the cake mixes in his hands as he lowered them to the sides of his body. “Hi, um, Miss –“

“Emily was mentioning you were having trouble choosing.”

“Em saw you?”

You chuckled, avoiding your eyes as if you were embarrassed, “I came over to say hello and she mentioned you needed help to choose a cake?”

Speak, for maker’s sake, speak! A voice in his head screamed at him but his brain was still processing the fact that (a) this was not a school event and (b) you were speaking to him, leading to (c) you were speaking to him in your own free time.

“Chocolate.”

“What?”

“I would go with chocolate,” you gestured to the box in his right hand, biting your lip and stars, he wanted to hold your hand and kiss your cheek and take walks through the park with you. Instead, here he was, making a fool of himself.

“I will trust your judgment, then,” he nodded, carefully putting the other box back on the shelf. When that was done, you kept standing there in front of him looking up at him expectantly. Why – why? – couldn’t he speak? It should not be this hard to open his mouth.

He just needed to say I think you are wonderful and I would like to get to know you more. Would you be interested in having dinner with me?

“Um, would you like to …”, his voice trailed off.

You did that lip-biting thing again and your whole face lit up and stars, maybe you wanted him to ask you. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you would like to –“

“I know you said I wasn’t allowed the sweet ones but it’s my birthday soon,” Em announced loudly, dropping a box in the already full shopping cart and pouting at him, “Can I have it as an early present, pretty please?”

Mission: Ask Pretty Teacher Out For Dinner was immediately aborted and he swore he saw a look of disappointment flash across your face. At least that was something to give him hope.

“Dad always makes me a cake and he fails every year, it’s a tradition by now,” his daughter explained and he groaned inwardly, but then she had her thinking face on – the same she had as a toddler – and suddenly added, “You should bring one.”

“What?”

“Em, I don’t think your teacher has the time to …”

But Em, bless her soul, would not be deterred from her plan. By now he cursed the stubborn streak that ran through his family and had evidently taken root in his daughter as well.

“Dad always talks about how much he likes your raspberry chocolate crumble,” she shrugged, “And my classmates like it too.”

When would the ground open up and swallow him whole?

And the worst thing was: Em wasn’t even lying. She had her blunt honesty from him and the way he had gushed about that raspberry crumble had been unusual, especially for him. But it had also been unusually good. And the way you had smiled at him when he had taken a second serving had made his heart warm.

Now though, there were no words that could describe the embarrassment that flowed through him. He felt exposed in a way that he had not felt for a long time and being at anyone’s mercy – even if it was yours – was not something that he cherished.

“Well,” you started with a smile and looked at him, “If your dad won’t mind, I could certainly bring over a cake for your birthday party.”

“He won’t mind.”

“I won’t mind.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you smiled, genuinely smiled, at him. Paz’s breath caught in his throat. Stars, you were beautiful. Everything about you was just magnificent from the tips of your hair to your eyes, your nose, your lips, how you hugged your oversized cardigan closer to you.

“Great,” you nodded, “So … I will see you then?”

“My dad will text you the info,” Emily added, seemingly the only one who kept her cool at the situation.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “Oh, but I don’t –“

“Dad, why don’t you give Miss Y/L/N your number?” Em brazenly suggested, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes that he knew all too well, “For adult stuff.”

He could feel his ears burn, could hear himself sputtering out words about how he did not want to be inappropriate and how this should be your decision and not Emily’s. And stars, he didn’t want to make advances towards you.

Well, he did.

He did want to flirt with you, wanted to compliment you on your kind eyes and your shining smile. But not like this. Not if it made you uncomfortable. And certainly not in the blaring lights of the grocery store aisle.

But before he could say anything more, before he could dig his hole deeper, you had your phone in your hands and were looking at him expectantly. And then he stumbled through his phone number, you nodding all the while and typing the numbers into a new contact.

“Great,” you smiled, “So – I will see you then?”

“Yes,” he murmured dumbly, “I will see you then.”

5:33 pm: Hi! This is Y/N 😊 Just wanted to say I’m really looking forward to Emily’s party this Saturday. Is there anything I should bring next to the crumble?

5:59 pm: Sorry, it just occurred to me that you probably only know me by my last name. I’m Emily’s teacher.

6:12 pm: Hello, this is Paz. Emily’s dad. You do not need to bring anything other than the cake and yourself.

7:43 pm: I am looking forward to seeing you too.

Saturday rolled around quicker than he had anticipated.

He had spent the week trying to make sure everything would be ready for Emily’s party (and your arrival) and that the apartment would be in tip-top shape to be destroyed by a bunch of kids.

He had spent almost all of Friday night wrapping presents when Emily was fast asleep only to be woken up at sunrise by his very energetic daughter who wanted to have some tasty pancakes from their favourite café around the corner.

He loved mornings like this.

Where it was just Em and him and they could enjoy their peace and quiet. Seeing her grow up was bliss and torture at the same time. He loved her, he was so proud of her and seeing her grow slowly but surely into a confident young woman was everything he’d ever wished for. But at the same time, it felt like time was slipping through his fingers. He wanted to catch these precious moments in his hands and never let them go.

This moment of calm did not last for long though, only for breakfast and until they were back in the apartment, preparing excitedly for the party that was to come.

Baking a cake was a disaster just like Emily had said it would be.

Maybe she had been right in saying that it was a tradition now. Maybe he really would not be able to bake a cake for her.

But now it was not only the cake. In less than an hour, 10 kids would swarm the way too small city apartment and he would need to prepare some food and why had he decided against ordering pizza and what if something went wrong?

And you would show up too, sometime, and he had wanted to change into something more appropriate for actually having a teacher (aka crush) over and being dressed in his flour-covered flannel shirt was certainly not it.

The doorbell rang just as the bowl of cake mix fell to the tiled floor. “Kriffing shit” he cursed trying to jump out of the cloud of grains just as he heard the tell-tale footsteps of Emily running to the door. “I got it!”

“No, Em, wait -!”

But it was too late. He had just caught himself on the doorframe when you stepped into the hallway, looking around curiously. You fit in so well, he thought instinctively, you could live here too.

“I’m a bit too early, I hope you don’t –“ you halted in your words, tilting your head at his flour-covered appearance, “mind.”

“I – I am so sorry,” he started, trying to dust off but only making it worse, “I was a bit in a hurry and I –“

“It’s all right,” you replied quickly, lifting the box in your hands lamely, “I brought cake.”

“I will take that,” Em decided, taking the cake off your hands and transporting it to the dinner table in the living room. But not without showing him the huge grin on her face.

“I’m sorry for the mess, I just …” he threw up his hands in defeat, desperation clear in his voice, as you followed him into the chaotic kitchen.

“No worries, we will manage that just fine.”

The way you said we made his heart beat faster and he stepped aside to make space for you.

The apartment Emily and he lived in was actually a miracle to find in such a big city and he still thanked the stars for the day when the landlord had decided to let him, a single father and his tiny daughter, move in. But for all its perks – the layout, the view, the small balcony that fit a small bench – the apartment had one single flaw: The kitchen.

It was a tiny kitchen with the counters wrapping around all three walls and leaving only the space free where the doorway was. And it was narrow. He had always cursed it, especially with his size, and more than once had he accidentally hit his head on a cabinet door that his daughter had left open.

And where it was small for one full-grown adult, it was a tight fit for two. Which made it even worse. Or better. Depending on how one viewed things.

You bumped against him constantly, his hands brushing accidentally against yours, one time almost smashing into you but only hitting your foreheads together. And you only ever giggled or smiled shyly at him, never ever stepping away from the closeness and it made his heart flutter in his chest.

Maybe – maybe you wanted that too.

While he was mixing the dough together under your careful eyes, you had started to slice some apples that he had found in the pantry. He threw a few glances your way, catching you looking at him too before smiling at you.

Stars, he really was behaving like a lovesick puppy, wasn’t he?

“You are pretty good at this,” he commented, nodding towards the cake that you had brought with you. You spooned a bit of cinnamon into the apple mix, before spreading the dough in the baking form he had found somewhere in a cabinet.

“It’s a hobby,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I was never good with finding new connections when I moved and I found that making good food helps people to talk to you.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to talk to you,” he blurted out, feeling his ears grow hot, “I mean because – you don’t need baking to be nice and I – fuck, wait, shit no, I don’t mean fuck, I – “

You laughed, full-on giggles escaping you as he sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I imagined all of this differently.”

“How – how did you imagine it?” you asked quietly, stepping closer to him. Your eyes were so big now and you looked so hopeful and he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“Well, I wanted to look competent for once,” he stated, gesturing around the filled countertops, “And not forcing you to help me make up my mistakes.”

“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” you protested, biting your lip, “I – I like helping you and … spending time with you.”

“Dad, Alyssa is already on her way, are you sure want to cook? Is the cake even ready? I invited Isabelle and I don’t want her to think that I can’t –“

Apparently, he could not hide the misery on his face – when had he decided that it would be a good idea to not only bake a cake but cook for a hoard of hungry kids? – because you snorted next to him, clearly amused. Emily had crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking pleadingly up at him.

“Don’t worry, your father and I will make sure there will be enough cake to go around,” you reassured his daughter before looking at him, “Do you have a plan for dinner?”

“We could always order pizza,” Emily suggested, the hope in her eyes clear as she looked at him.

Stars, when would he ever be able to deny her anything?

“It’s true,” he chuckled, patting his daughter on her back, “We always end up with pizza anyway.”

So, while you and Em busied yourselves with putting the pie in the oven, he ordered pizza for everyone. (A few family-sized pizzas would be enough right?) And because he was feeling a little more confident, he also added a side of garlic bread and a bottle of wine to the order. Maybe you would like to stay if he could offer a glass of wine?

On his way back, he passed Emily on the way to the bathroom. “I will go get ready,” she announced loudly while also wildly gesturing towards the kitchen.

When he entered the small room, he could feel the heat of the oven already.

“It should be done soon if everything works as it should,” you announced and straightened up, “The kids definitely won’t starve.”

“I cannot thank you enough,” the relief in his voice was clear, “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Then it is a good thing we won’t have to know,” you teased him and the mirth in your eyes made him want to kiss you so badly. And there it was again. That silent tension between the two of you.

This would be a good moment, he thought to himself as he slowly lowered his face towards yours, Emily was occupied getting ready, the pie was in the oven, you were alone with him and he could hear your breath hitch in your throat.

Delicate fingers closed around his wrist, pulling him closer and he could feel your breath on his face and just a little bit more and then –

Ring!

He flinched away from you, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s probably Alyssa,” he whispered, avoiding your gaze.

Alyssa was dropped off by her mother. Her eyes fell to you, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, drying your hands on a towel and looking very much at home (he tried to ignore how warm that made him feel).

“Miss Y/L/N,” she greeted you, clearly caught off guard, “what a surprise to see you here, I didn’t know that Emily had invited you too.”

“Oh well you know …” you shrugged your shoulders and he could hear the wheels turning in your head, searching for a good excuse.

“My dad invited her,” Em announced smugly, her and Alyssa grinning from ear to ear.

The awkward silence between the adults would have been hilarious hadn’t he been a part of it. But what his brain decided to focus on the most was the fact that you had not denied it, you had simply smiled at Alyssa’s mom, made some small talk about the newest English project you had the kids working on, and remained standing next to him the whole time.

Paz was sure that his gazing at you was obvious to everyone present but he could not help himself.

One after another, the little guests trickled in, playing board games and eating your delicious cake in the living room. He helped Em set up the little karaoke game that she had gotten from Din last Christmas and excited cheers filled the room as they tried to look at the different song options.

Paz left them to their own devices, knowing that should anything go wrong, Em would come and get him.

But with the living room occupied, the only space left for him and you to be was the tiny kitchen.

“So … I, um, I helped you with the cake,” you started to shuffle, hands wringing in front of your belly, “I really don’t want to outstay my welcome and –“

“You could stay if you want,” he suggested, blood pumping in his veins, “I – I have ordered some wine and garlic bread if you’d like.”

And that’s how you ended up sitting next to him on the kitchen floor, your legs stretched out in front of you. He had to angle his legs a little, the space between the counters too small for him. But the closeness it provided to you was more than worth it. He fished two wine glasses from the shelf, handing them down to you before grabbing the bottle of wine.

There were no clean plates left so he spread the pizza carton out on both of your legs, the warmth of the food seeping into his thighs.

“To a successful birthday party,” you stated, carefully clinking your glass with his, “And to the very talented father who organized it all.”

“To the best baker out there,” he replied and the way you bit your lip made him smile.

He bit into the garlic bread heartily and his stomach grumbled satisfied.

“This is so good,” you moaned next to him, mouth still full and he grinned.

You ate in peaceful silence, munching on a few leftover slices of pizza that the kids had graciously left. With the warm glow from the kitchen lamps, he decided that birthday parties weren’t so bad when he had you there to enjoy it with.

When he looked at you, his gaze fell to a drop of red sauce that had found its place on the corner of your mouth. You tilted your head questioningly.

“You, uh,” he murmured, gesturing towards his face, “You got something there.”

When your hands missed it, his own rose up to your face. He swore he could hear your breath hitch as his thumb brushed over the tomato sauce, wiping it away.

But your face remained turned towards him, your lips slightly open and were you getting closer?

Was he reading the signs right? He didn’t even know. All he knew was he wanted to kiss you. Really. Truly. No matter how inappropriate it might be.

And with the karaoke in the background and a bunch of 10-year olds shrieking the lyrics to the newest chart, he bowed down his head and kissed you. Full on the mouth.

It was soft and gentle, both of you not moving an inch. But then his hand crept forward, gently framing your cheek and you gasped against him, your hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer and stars you were returning the kiss.

You tasted of wine and cake and you were soft, so soft, he loved every second of it.

Slowly, he started to move his lips, brushing his tongue on your bottom lip, pulling your closer and suddenly you were straddling him, his hands on your hips pulling your closer and his back against the counter and the screeching of some Jojo Siwa song in the background.

When he slowly pulled away, your bottom lip falling from his teeth, your chest was heaving from his kisses, your lips were swollen, and he wanted to pull you to him again. A smile tugged at his lips.

“Would you like to go out with me sometime?” he asked breathlessly, eyes searching for any indication that he had crossed a line. But you were still clinging to him, your hands wandering down to grasp at his forearms.

This. This would be what he dreamed about now. The smile on your lips, how your eyes shone in the low kitchen lights, how you kept touching him.

“I’d really like that,” you nodded, the small smile on your lips growing bigger by the seconds.

“Really?” he asked, his nose nudging against yours, “That’s – that’s great, how about tomorrow? We could go for a walk in the park?”

“A walk in the park sounds great,” you whispered against his lips and he dipped his head to kiss you again, just as slowly.

“Good,” he murmured.

“Good,” you repeated, your tongue mingling with his.

“Dad, do we have any more of that cake left, it’s actually really –“

In a panic, he almost threw you off him.

You were doing your best to right your cardigan as Emily entered the kitchen, eyeing both of you suspiciously.

“Sorry, what was that, Em?” he asked, swallowing hard and hoping to all the stars that she hadn’t seen him make out with you like a teenager.

“I was just wondering if you had any more cake left, I can’t believe it but it actually tastes good?!”

He laughed and gestured towards the counter, “there some more, you can take the tray to the living room, I – we will just clean up some more.”

“You know, I totally saw you two kissing, right?”

“Emily Vizsla!”

“What? It is not like I am going to scold you or anything,” and with her usual confidence, she swayed away, the cake in her hands.

“Well, you heard her,” he grinned, hands coming up to frame your face again, as he kneeled on the tiles, his lips descending yours, “It is not like she is going to scold us or anything …”

And with that, he kissed you again.

#maybege writes #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x fem!reader

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heliosthegriffin · 4 years ago

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The Adventures of Shota Jaune

Arthur Arc always knew his son was going to be special, it had been seven daughters straight that the Brothers had given him, he was due for a son. Good things come to those who hold strong and have faith.

His son would be amazing.

It was a given!

He didn’t expect how right he was.

How was he suppose to know his son would come out of the womb glowing like a disco ball!

The nurses were running around, his wife was crying, and Arthur had dick all of an idea what was going on.

Arthur winced has the doctor doctor cradled his broken hand while being escorted out of the room, all Arthur had seen was a flash of light and a cry of pain, before a nurse caught his falling son.

Now Arthur held his glowing baby boy as his wife was being loaded up with Morphine wanting to now what’s wrong with her baby.

Shit’s fucked.

Arthur looked at his baby boy.

“Your name is Jaune Arc,” The baby slept in his arms. “you’re going to be a trouble maker aren’t you? Well, that’s fine, we have plenty of trouble makers in the family. You’re going to fit right in.”

And so the Arcs were once again black-listed from another hospital, and Baby Jaune Arc had already broken a man’s hand.

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Four year’s Later....

Arthur walked groggily to his son’s room, light bleeding from underneath the door.

It was midnight he should be asleep.

His son’s giggling told him otherwise.

He opened the door and called out to him. “Jaune, it’s midnight. Why did you turn your lights on?”

His son turn his head to him looking embarrassed as several floating orbs of light rotated around him.

Arthur felt his jaw drop. When could he do that?!

“Sorry, I just couldn’t sleep. I’ll go to bed soon.”

Arthur felt the words on in one ear and out the other, had his son found his semblance?

“Jaune, what are those lights?” Arthur said weakly to his son.

Jaune looked confused for a moment looking around. “I didn’t turn on lights, though,” Then his expression brightened, literally as a orb went pass his face. “Oh that! You said I could have lights on at bedtime, and sometimes I got scared, so my Orra would make me flashy flash, but that just made more shadows. So, I tried to to make my Orra bigger, but it wouldn’t so I tried to make it move over the shadows, and it did!”

Arthur watched in fascination as the globes orbited around his son. His son really was special. This was beyond basic Aura manipulation, this was beyond anything an expert could do. Darkness be damned, even Arthur himself prided himself on his aura control couldn’t doing anything half as intricate as this!

“How did you get it to move like that? Your Aura that is?” Curiosity bled into his voice. It stung his pride a little bit to ask his son tips on Aura manipulation, but his pride as a father and his own want to know how won out.

Jaune looked at his father confused. “I just did?”

Arthur looked at his son patiently. “Could you show me how to then?”

“Um, ok.” His son said reluctantly.

Arthur watched his son carefully, activating his aura and having it circulated into his eyes to be able to see his son on a auric level.

Arthur flinched back in shock and nearly blind.

His son had so much damn aura! It was like looking at the freaking sun at high noon.

Arthur could barely even see his son’s figure through the light, a barely visible shadow in the midst of a bonfire of pure white light that danced and waved on currents that could not be understood even by a expert like himself. Light filled the room and a revelation hit Arthur. He himself was under his son’s aura, the entire damn house was!

Even outside the room he could see the currents of his son’s brilliant aura circulating around the house and even leaking into the wood and stone! He was reinforcing the house, and it was even being absorbed into his own aura and he hadn’t even noticed.

His son had been subconsciously leaking aura and he hadn’t notice at all! It was so invasive and overwhelmingly aggressive, but deviously subtle that it took a hold on everything it was near.

His son was a walking talking breathing, Aura reactor. No wonder he lit like a disco-ball when he was born, no wonder he fired off the occasional flare of aura, no wonder his all of his sister had awakened their aura, no wonder the fucking cat did too!

His son was enhancing everything around him, Arthur himself hadn’t even questioned why his own reserves had enlarged, his son did it.

It was a open knowledge that reserves just increase with time and practice, but his had nearly doubled over the last four years.

Arthur shut down his Aura Sight, any more and it might give him damage his control.

Arthur no longer needed an explanation as to why his son could create light-balls. It was easy enough explanation to himself, he was just separating dense sections of aura and have them follow the auric currents he created.

Arthur knew what he had to do now, his wife was going to kill him for it, but Jaune not mastering his talents would be the graver sin.

“Jaune do you want to be a huntsmen like your dad?”

Arthur frantically cover his eyes as his son squealed and flash-banged him with happiness.

Even through his aura he could feel a sun-burn, well aura-burn, forming.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

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One year later....

Arthur’s eye’s twitched as his wife tried to get his son off the hill he made out of his sisters unconscious bodys.

“Jaune, please come down, they’re your sisters.” Victoria said trying to coax they son down.

“NO!” Jaune said with a stomp, pained groan coming from the sisters. “They’re mean and tried put me in a dress again!”

“They’re doing that because they love you and want to see how cute you’d look!”

Jaune groaned. “You’re in on it too!” He said with another stomp.

“Oww,” Another groan came from the pile.

“No, Jaune I just want to see my little man look pretty!”

“I don’t wanna be pretty I wanna be man’y man!”

“You can be a manly man,” A gleam came to his wife's eyes and Arthur groaned. “After you wear this dress!” Victoria said pulling out a dress and lunging at her son.

Arthur shook his head as his wife and only son tussled. “Jaune I’ll be waiting in the backyard when you want to practice.”

“No, Jaune no! Don’t use the back-breaker aaagggh!”

“NO, Jaune don’t suplex me into your sisters! Aggh!”

--------

One year later.

Arthur watched his son play in the parks playground, a nice day with a clear blue sky and a cool breeze that would come around with a the pleasant smell of evergreens and the clean lake in the park, Arthur taking a moment to admire the small waves going across the water to lap at the beaches edge.

Ah, it couldn’t get more relaxing than this.

‘Shink-Break.’

He hated when he was right. He had run across the park as fast as possible to stop the blade from hitting his son.

He really shouldn’t have bother though, as Jaune grasped a broken pocket knife blade in his hands.

An absolutely tiny little thing was holding the other end, a horrifically skinny child with brown, pink, and white hair was trembling as Jaune held her in the air.

Arthur nearly gagged in disgust as got within ten feet of the children.

The smell was nose-burning and made his eye’s water in pain.

Still though Arthur look at the child his son was holding in pity. The poor thing could have been much older than his son but probably didn’t come up above three feet, they were dress in what might have been clothes at one point but had been caked in so much filth, dirt, and grime that they might as well been wearing rags.

So skinny, so damn skinny.

Arthur grimaced at the sight, the child was on the verge of starvation. A fire then lit in his belly, if he ever got his hands on whoever left a child like this he would swear on his word to kill them, no excuses, he was a huntsman he had enough sway that he could get away with it.

“Jaune, what happened? Also, put the child down.”

Jaune shrugged. “Can’t if I do she’ll do her shiny thing and disappear again.”

“Her shiny thing? Does she have an Aura Jaune?”

“Yeah, an sembence.”

“Semblance, yeah. So, could you give her to me, so that we could talk about how this happened?”

Jaune shrugged and handed the child to him, who started thrashing violently as they were being handed over, then Jaune stopped and hugged her, even as they were thrashing, her broken knife chipping at his aura.

“Actually, dad, I think I’ll hold onto her.” Arthur sighed with pity, and nodded his head. It was probably better that she didn’t get pasted around it might give them a panic attack.

“That’s fine, so what went on for this to happen?”

Jaune started rocking the child in his lap, even as they stabbed at him, but the fight quickly left them.

“Well, I was playing, and I got tumbie rumbles, and went to get an ice-cream, then my ice-cream went gone, and I was not happy, then I did a ohra thing, and could see that she was eating my ice-cream.” Jaune took a breath and Arthur absorbed the information.

“So, I ask her why she stole my ice cream and why she’s so smelly, she got mad, well actually she got scared, an tried to punch me, then when she hurt her hand she disappeared, so I tried to find her again, then I picked her up and she tried to stib me.”

Arthur nodded and sighed again. He got on the ground and looked at the child, he gave the friendliest smile he had.

“Hi, I’m Arthur and this is my son, Jaune. What’s your name?”

The child looked away.

Arthur frowned for a second before trying again. “Do you have any parents? Or a guardian? Could you bring them to us, or have them come here?”

‘So that I can beat them to death with my bare hands.’ Arthur thought.

The child said nothing.

“Are you hungry? We can get you some food? You want to go get some food?”

The child still said nothing, but there was a slight tremble to them now.

“Hey dad, um.” His son said. “There’s a thing, on her, It don’t look so good?” Jaune said pointing at the girls neck.

Arthur leaned in closer and recoiled immediately.

A black leaking smile was gashed across her neck leaking white and yellow pus.

“We’re going to the doctor, immediately!”

-------

Two months later.

Arthur smiled as his newest daughter was following son around like a duck. It had taken a little while and a couple stab wounds, but Neo had finally given into the Arc charm and let herself be adopted.

She was finally gaining a healthy weight and color to her skin, and her hair was combed and cut properly. Dressed up in nice clean clothes. Oddly enough she was actually older than Jaune by about three years. That had only made Arthur more incensed to find her parents.

Arthur had also been true to his word. More than happy to keep it actually.

Vale may be down one councilwoman, but the world was a better place so it balance out. Shame they couldn’t keep his face out of the press, but he sent his message.

-------

Six months later

Arthur glared at Saphron as she fidgeted with her girlfriend Terra.

The tweens had lost not only Jaune, but also Neo. In the middle of Vale.

Arthur sighed and ran a hand down his face, then pointed at the ferry where Victoria and his other daughters waited.

“Go wait over there with the rest of them. I’m sure your mother and Gris will have words for you two.”

“But Dad-,” “Mr. Arc please-”

Arthur stared firmly at her and Terra. Two tweens vs a now world-class huntsman would never in a million years be a fair contest.

They bowed their heads with shame and sulked over to his wife and eldest daughter, Gris the only huntress out of his daughters.

Arthur tried not to smile, as his daughter and her girlfriend got torn a new one, but he could only try so hard.

To be honest, however. He wasn’t worried for Jaune that much or Neo if Jaune was there. With the boys Aura and her Semblance they were damn near untouchable even for him.

No, he was more worried about-

‘KAAAA-BOOOOOOM!!’

The colateral damage.

So, Arthur did what he always did to find Jaune, follow the sounds of destruction.

He found Jaune sitting and talking to nothing in the middle of what was probably at one time a nice three story building, along with what might of been a nice, friendly gang of Vacuon thugs judging by their skin tone and tattoos that led back to the Sand Devils Gang.

They weren’t much more than bone splinters, red mist and a little bit of viscera now.

If he wasn’t so proud of his son, he might be terrified.

“So, Jaune mind telling me what happened here and where your sister is?”

Jaune jumped at the sound of his voice, bringing his hands up the way he taught him and probably how he just annihilated those men.

He relaxed when he saw Arthur and smiled. “Oh, hi dad! You can drop the barrier Neo and Em,”

Em?

Arthur had a feeling that they had another one.

“So Dad, we met a new friend, and she wanted to show us her house, but a group of meanies where here and wanted to make us do things, so I made Neo and Em hide, while I took care of it!”

Yep, they got another one.

Neo shattered into existence along with green-haired mocha skinned girl who looked absolutely terrified.

“This is Emerald, she lives here-, Oh no! I wrecked your house, I’m sorry!” Jaune looked at his dad paniced. “Dad! She can stay with us, right?!”

Arthur nodded and sat down to get eye level with the children.

Neo was holding Emerald and soothing her, and Emerald looked like she might run away at any moment.

She looked around nine, less dirty than when they first found Neo, but still under-fed and probably a street kid.

“Ok, you can stay with us.”

Emerald’s eyes went wide with shock, but Neo and Jaune pulled her into a hug.

------

Two months later...

Emerald was following Jaune and Neo like a moody cat, she had taken to living in with them better than Neo, even if she still pickpocket them some times and hid in the crawlspace.

Turns out she had still living parents. Arthur had made sure to extract all in the child support she was owed, and made sure they left her in their wills.

Too bad they suffered such tragic accidents afterwards. But, who would miss some Vacuon Dust Baron, or some Atlas Upper-Class Trash.

Plus who cared if he was wanted by Vacuo or The Ace Ops, he was already blacklist anyway in both kingdoms.

-----

Two Months Later...

“Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday Jaune Arc!”

His string bean boy had turned seven years old today.

He was so happy for him.

Arthur looked at his son blow out the candles.

A wind blew over the campfire as storm was on the horizon.

They were celebrating his birthday here in Shion this year.

Arthur had a special present for his son this year, something to celebrate starting to train him in earnest as a huntsman. Even if he was as powerful as some huntsmen in training.

Boy would he be a monster... Well, more of one.

Arthur slid a long rectangular package across the camp table to Jaune.

“What’s this?”

“Open it up.”

Jaune looked at it and then tore open the wrapping.

A stainless steel practice sword and a heater-shield made for his size.

Jaune looked at his father with tears in his eyes. “I love it!” He squeaked out.

Victoria did glare at Arthur along with Gris, but they and the rest of the family squeled athis reaction.

They were just jealous he got the best gifts.

Arthur looked at his son seriously. “You understand what this means, Jaune? You’re going to have to start being a real huntsman now, no more regular school, we’re going to home-school you, and anytime you’re not training you’re going to be learning, understood?”

Jaune looked nervous briefly, but nodded resolutely. “Yeah, I get it. Plus I didn’t like anybody at school anyway, they were always mad at me for some reason or the girls would run away screaming.”

Arthur drifted his gaze to Em and Neo, who looked away innocently. “I guess it’s time for you two to start huntress training too, Jaune could use some partners.”

“Yes!” Emerald said joyfully, as Neo cheered with her.

Victoria stilled glared at Arthur, but he ignored it. “Who wants cake?”

------

Later that afternoon...

Clouds were starting to blow in and Arthur was gathering his family into the fortified cabins. It was going to start a down pour soon.

That’s when Arthur heard it, a moan of pain.

Arthur sighed and walked into the woods. His son, his newer daughters, and some boy he’s never seen before, all circled around a black haired Grimm masked woman who was on the ground in pain.

“Alright, what’s up this time?”

Jaune kicked the woman in the gut, elcipting a groan from her.

“She’s mean, kept trying to make us go with her, then made Vern over there fight us,” Arthur looked at the boy name Vern, who was staring awestruck at his son. Vern noticed him and quickly nodded, Arthur then noticed a black eye on the boys face and several other wounds.

“I beat him though, and Vern got all scared, the Lady then tried to make us walk through a portal, I said no. She got mad. So she tried to beat us up, so Neo and Em gave her the run around while I beat her up. Then she got flashy eyes and tried to blasted us, but Neo and Em gave her the run around and she hit herself, then we all gang up on her.” Arthur looked at his son and daughters in amazement, not even hunters and huntress-in-training and they took on a rogue huntress with a powerful semblance and dust capablities. He was so proud of them!

The his eyes drifted back to Vern.

Arthur had a feeling he knew this song and dance already.

Arthur on down on one knee.

“How do you feel about adoption?”

------

One month later...

Raven Branwen, Raven notorious coward Branwan, was the rogue huntress his children caught. Nobody believe him though and now he had the nickname Tribe-Hunter.

Team STQ was quite interested in handling her imprisonment. That was none of Arthur’s business. Ozpin had been quite generous on his bonus though and gave him plenty of vacation time with his family.

Oh, and Vern was actually named Vernal and a girl. He really should have expected that by now. She didn’t take to family very well, but once a pecking order was established she was better behaved, even if she challenged him or Jaune for leadership.

Arthur held his wife closely as they watched their children play in the backyard. Well, Jaune and the new three.

They were practically a little team. Vernal was even calling his son ‘Boss.’

Arthur though couldn’t help feel something inside him watching his children beat the shit out of each other. That this was only the start of craziness.

His wife then gripped his hand. “I want more.”

“I feel like we don’t have a choice anymore.” But the idea didn’t bother Arthur much.

#Jaune Arc #Shota Jaune Adventures #Vernal #neopolitian (rwby)#Emerald Sustrai #jaune arc appreciation #Jaune's Dad

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years ago

Note

blind date and poorly timed confession with Rex x reader?

Ngl it took me a bit to figure out what I wanted to do with this one, but I like how it turned out so I hope you do too

46. Blind Date

60. Poorly Timed Confession

Captain Rex x Reader

When Fives, Jesses, and Echo all came walking over to him after a briefing, each with a grin and a bounce in their step, Rex knew immediately that something was up. So with grinning faces, and Fives in the middle with his I've done something you are going to disagree with Captain shit eating grin, Rex immediately prepared himself for whatever his men had done this time, and preparing for the headache that inevitably was going to form behind his temples.

Rex waited until they were all stopped, forming a small semi-circle around him, before he immediately cut in, not letting Fives who was opening his mouth to speak get even a sound out. "What have you all done this time?"

It was Jesse that replied first, chuckling and saying, "Why d you always assume the worst of us, Captain?"

Rex only gave him a side eye before looking down at his data pad and saying, "I don't know, why is it always you three in the middle of of whatever chaos happens when the 501st is on Coruscant?"

This time it was Fives, with a faked gasp and a hand held to his chestplate, still with that damned grin on his face, "Captain I am hurt, and to think we did something nice for you."

That got Rex's attention, his head whipping up to look at each of them with a glare, "What. Did. You. Do."

"Honestly, Captain, we didn't do anything bad this time," Echo's somewhat sincere voice spoke up, "We just know you work too hard and never take any real breaks for yourself, so we thought we'd do something nice."

"Which is?"

Fives, excitedly interrupted his twin as he was opening his mouth to speak, which resulted in a glare from Echo and a wider grin from Jesse. "We step you up on a blind date!"

Rex took a second a second, staring blankly at the three of them before tiredly saying, "You did what?"

Jesse reached out and laid a hand on Rex's shoulder, and with a smile still on his face, but with a bit of a more serious tone said, "We got you a blind date. Captain you work too hard, relax and go have some fun. Hell turn it into a one-night stand for all we care, just take the night off."

This time it was Jesse on the receiving end of Echo's glare as he spoke up and said, "we all know the Captain isn't going to have a one-night stand with this date."

Fives laughed, and turned to his twin with a smirk, "No, but he definitely might be fuck buddies with them."

Echo, sighed loudly, and elbowed his brother in the side hard, and ignored Five's yelp of pain and turned back to Rex, saying, "The date is tonight at that diner you like, and don't worry about cleaning up or trying to look nice, you can take my word for it when I say they won't care." Then Echo was pulling the other two away, and Rex caught Fives complaining about his side and 'why did you have to do it so hard?'

The rest of the day, Rex was trying to think of reasons or excuses for why he shouldn't go to the 'date' and with each passing hour each excuse just became more and more flimsy. So by the time he filled out his last report for the day, Rex sighed heavily and stood, the only thought running through his head was, well I can't let the poor soul sit there all night, especially after dealing with Fives, Jesse, and Echo.

That didn't mean that Rex didn't drag his feet on the way to the diner though. This wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend one of his few nights off, but at this point he was too deep to back off. What was he even going to say, to do? Rex has never really been on dates before, never really had time for them, so he was at a complete loss, and was was panicking by the time he reached to door of the restaurant.

Rex hesitated by the door, realizing a touch too late that none of them had mentioned how he would know who he was there for, how was he going to know? Now he was fully panicking as his hand reached up and pulled open the door. Rex immediately scanned the booths when he walked in, most of them already containing two or more people, but then he stopped. There, in the far corner was you, and Rex cursed his men for the hundredth time today. It couldn't have been, they didn't set him up with you, his soft and sweet civilian officer, the one person besides his brothers he trusted, the one person he would do anything for just to see them smile. His brothers wouldn't do that to him....would they?

Slowly, and almost shyly, Rex approached your booth, and asked quietly, "Is this seat taken?"

Rex watched your head raise and take in his form, he watched as the surprise and shock from seeing him slowly took over your facial features, before you nodded jerkily and motioned to the seat across from you. Rex sat, and looked around the small room, his jaw clenching and unclenching trying to think of something to say to you, but then your voice spoke up quietly, but amused, "So, Captain, I am guessing it is you that the boys set me up with tonight?"

Rex responded by nodding softly, before he turned to look at you. You looked so pretty in the soft light, flashy colors from the neon lights outside reflecting off your skin accentuating your features and making Rex swallow. You looked so beautiful it hurt. While he had come straight from his office, only taking time to just brush his hand over his buzzed hair, you had actually changed from your uniform, putting on clothes that highlighted your body in all the right ways, while still being modest, the clothing colors also fitting you and just making you pop in a way the boring grey uniforms never did. Maker, he both loved and hated his brothers for this.

The silence between the two of you dragged on for a few minutes, only broken by a waitress coming to get Rex's order, which he only asked for a cup of caf. When she left, Rex turned back to you and cleared his throat, "So how was your day? Besides having to deal with my idoits?"

Hearing your giggle made his heart soar, and a soft smile to form on his lips, as you looked up to meet his gaze. "It was boring, as usual. Nothing but paperwork, and lots of sighing as I read over your reports. Captain-"

"Rex... we aren't working, so you can call me Rex," he interrupted softly, a small blush highlighting his cheeks, but again your smile was more than worth hiss embarrassment.

"Rex," you rolled his name off you tongue in a way that had Rex repeating the sound over and over in his head, having him willing to give anything to hear you just repeat it over and over for the rest of his life, but then you continued, "I really think you should try disagreeing with General Skywalker's antics sometimes, I hate it when I read about him throwing you around like a rag doll."

Rex sighed, and looked down at his hands, before jokingly saying, "Well I hate being thrown around."

You giggled again, before letting out a soft, 'oh'. Rex looked up, and you gave him a fake stern look before saying, "And stop calling Fives, Jesse, and Echo idiots, we all know that Echo just gets dragged into the other two's schemes when it comes to anyone but his brothers. Echo doesn't deserve that title."

Rex chuckles, and shoots you a grin that your return fully, before he responds with, "I think you would be surprised, I have found half the time Echo is the mastermind behind whatever stunt is being pulled."

"Even more reason for you not to call him an idiot! Echo's smart enough to send Fives and Jesse, and occasionally Hardcase, to do whatever he thought up, and as a result finds himself away from the trouble."

Rex sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. "I will give you that one, mesh'la."

After that the two of you fell into another round of silence, occasionally stealing looks, and getting embarrassed when you were caught, but Rex just couldn't keep his eyes off of you. He couldn't stop staring at the smile that lit up your face and eyes, one that he only occasionally got to see while you both were working. rex just couldn't stop taking in how beautiful and relaxed you looked, how relaxed you made him feel. And it hit him then, like a ton of bricks, just how much he had fallen for you, how in love with you he was.

It wasn't until the waitress cleared her throat and set his caf down before scurrying away that he realized. I wasn't until he turn and found your shocked face, mouth slightly opened and searching eyes that another realization his him. Rex had just said that completely out loud. and in front of the waitress none the less. rex had just laid his love for you out in front of you on what was essentially your first date.

Wide wide eyes, and a blush covering his entire face, ears, and neck, Rex started to close in on himself, trying to come up with an excuse to leave or an explanation but just coming up with panicked thoughts on how he had fucked up. Rex felt like his world was crashing around him, and he always hoped he'd never die, but in this moment he would give anything to do just that to get away from this feeling.

But then you whispered his name, so softly that he barely heard it, his brain barely acknowledging it as he was too caught up in his own head. Then he felt your hands reach across the table and curl around his clasped ones. with a clenched jaw he looked up, as you said his name again louder, and when he met your gaze all he found was soft hope. "Rex... did you mean it? Do...do you...."

Knowing his feelings were already in the open Rex cleared his throat and forced himself to speak, "Love you? With my entire being, cyare. I love you...."

Send me Tropes

#captain rex x reader #rex x reader #fanfic tropes ask game

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wild-karrde · 3 years ago

Text

Reunion - Part 4

Master List | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: As always, thank you to the stupendous @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading this chapter for me! :)

Rex carefully set the ship down in one of the landing docks in Ord Mantell’s capital city. Senna was curled up in the chair next to him, softly snoring once more. She was back in her normal clothing with a fresh bandage wrapped around her calf, her hair back in the wild bun she sometimes favored over her braid. He knew she hadn’t slept as well as she needed to, but she’d been insistent on not going back to bed after her nightmare, and he couldn’t say he blamed her. The sound of her screaming still rang in his ears an hour later. Gently, he reached over and shook her knee, and she sat up, rubbing her eyes.

“We here?”

“Yeah. We are.”

The sun was starting to sink lower in the sky as Rex paid the dock fees and the two of them started weaving through the streets. “Stay close,” Rex muttered. “We’re not in the most savory part of town.”

Senna wrinkled her nose as they passed by a particularly offensive-smelling pile of garbage in a sewer. “In more ways than one,” she agreed as she pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders. “It’s also freezing.”

Rex sighed. “Yeah, the first time I was here, it was spring. I didn’t think Ord Mantell could get much worse until I realized how cold it gets here during winter.”

They made their way through a few alleys until he came to the cantina’s entrance. “Cid’s Parlor,” Senna read from the sign. “You know this Cid?”

Rex sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”

“Oh come on, they can’t be that bad.”

“You’d be surprised.”

Rex trudged inside, leading her down a set of dimly lit stairs. The interior of the cantina was dimly lit with plenty of cheap neon, a soft turquoise glow emitting from behind the bar. A few patrons were scattered around, but for the most part, the place was empty aside from the older female Trandoshan behind the bar, who narrowed her eyes when Rex lowered his hood, grabbing a walking stick and making her way over towards him with a clawed finger pointed accusingly.

“YOU!” the female Trandoshan muttered. “I told you last time you were in here, I-“

Rex raised his hands in surrender. “Cid, Bolo and Ketch are going to have to forgive me for that at some point. I haven’t shot at any of your other patrons since then.”

Senna raised an eyebrow that Rex ignored.

“That’s not my problem, Blondie,” Cid growled, pointing a clawed finger at him. “You never settled your last tab. I’m not made of money.”

“I did pay my tab.”

“Yeah, well Muscles said you had the next three rounds, so you owe me.”

Rex scrubbed his hand over his face. “For Maker’s sake, Wrecker.”

Senna tried unsuccessfully to stifle a giggle, and Cid’s eyes finally fell on her. “And what’s your deal, Blue Eyes?”

The Jedi shrugged. “Oh, you know, just along for the ride.” Cid appraised her for a few more seconds before rolling her eyes.

“Can’t wait to hear what the problem is this time,” she muttered, moving to stand behind the bar once more. “So, what are you wanting?”

Rex leaned his elbows on the bar. “Information.”

“That’ll cost ya.”

“Always does, Cid.”

The Trandoshan surveyed him, trying to determine if he was giving her attitude or not before scoffing. “What kind of information?”

“Location on a clone commander that was recently imprisoned. He was serving on Pantora, got in a spat with some superior officers, and got swept off to a prison somewhere to await court martial, but we’re having trouble tracking down which one.”

“Sounds classified. That’ll be expensive.”

“Name your price.”

Cid tapped her claw on the counter for a moment, contemplating her options. “Let me see what I’ve got lined up jobwise tonight and put my feelers out to see how hard this information will be to track down. I’ll have something in the morning for you and Blue Eyes to knock out as repayment.”

“If you’ve got anything technical, that’s what I specialize in,” Senna offered. Cid glanced between the two of them.

“She has a specialty, huh?”

Rex shrugged. “She’s been helpful in a pinch before.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet that lightsaber was pretty handy too.”

Senna’s hand instinctively flew to her waist, but Cid waved her panic away. “Don’t know if your boyfriend’s told you, but I’m good with secrets. I’ve already hidden half of the clone army at this point, what’s one rogue Jedi?”

Senna relaxed. “He’s not my-“

“I don’t care, Blue Eyes.” Senna chewed her lip and Cid rolled her eyes. Senna’s eyes scanned the bar behind the counter, and Cid noted it. “You got a drink of choice?”

Senna leaned forward. “You got any gin?”

Cid humphed at the question, reaching to a mid-level shelf and pulling a fat, round bottle down. “Gamorean.”

Senna gave her a lopsided grin. “Never had it, but I’d bet it’s lighter on the floral notes.”

Cid gave her what sounded as close to a laugh as Rex had ever heard from the Trandoshan, half of a smirk tugging at the corner of her scaled lips. “That’s a safe bet.” Cid poured two glasses, offering one to Rex, who waved it away. She rolled her eyes at him, instead choosing to clink her glass against the one Senna was offering before they both drained them. Cid kept her face even, but Senna couldn’t withhold the way her face twitched as she swallowed the liquor with a good amount of effort. Cid raised an eyebrow at her. “That bad?”

Senna choked out a laugh. “Definitely not floral. But not the worst I’ve had.”

“Oh yeah? Who wins that award?” This was the most conversation Rex had ever heard Cid make, and it was borderline jarring to him.

Senna grinned. “The Aqualish make some grog that would peel the paint off the walls. My guts were rolling for days afterwards.”

Cid nodded. “That tracks.” Turning to Rex, she thumbed at Senna. “The technical specialist here is alright. I’ll bet she gives Goggles hell.”

“Oh, that’s my favorite pastime,” Senna confirmed.

The Trandoshan smirked again, tossing back another glass of the gin before replacing the stopper and putting the bottle back on its shelf. “You look like you’ve got more on your mind, Blondie.”

Rex nodded, knowing the next question was going to garner him some more sarcasm. “Do you have lodging we can use?”

Cid glared at him. “It’ll cost you extra.”

“Add it to our tab.”

“You’re awfully demanding, Blondie. Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous. I’ve got a room upstairs the two of you can share.”

Rex glanced at Senna. She wasn’t looking at him, but her leg was suddenly bouncing nervously as she carefully studied the empty glass in front of her. “You don’t have any other rooms?”

Cid rounded on him. “One. That’s what I’ve got. Gonna be a problem?” Rex’s fingers flexed nervously at his side, and her eyes flicked to them before she rolled her eyes. “Take it or leave it. Just figure it out, and don’t be loud about it.” Rex opened his mouth to retort, but she cut him off. “Yeah, yeah, I don’t care, Blondie.” She tossed him a key card. “Second room on the left at the top of the stairs. ‘Fresher’s attached. You’re welcome.”

Rex caught the card and swallowed hard.

“I’m going to turn in. If you need anything…I don’t care.” Cid hobbled down the hall towards the back rooms, leaving the two of them alone. They were silent for a moment before they both launched into it.

“I can sleep on the ship.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor.”

They paused.

“Rex, you take the room. I don’t think you’ve gotten a good night’s sleep since we started this.”

“All the more reason for me to go back to the ship. I’m used to sleeping there.”

“HEY, I SAID DON’T BE LOUD ABOUT IT!” came Cid’s voice from the back.

Senna sighed, rubbing her hand over her face. “It’s late. There are going to be tons of assholes out in the streets looking for an easy score, and it’s colder than Hoth out there right now. You’re not going alone.”

“Think I can’t handle myself?”

“I wouldn’t want you to go alone,” she replied.

“And then you’d have to come back by yourself?”

“I’m a Jedi.”

“And I’m a trained clone captain.”

The two of them glared at each other for a few moments before Rex finally shrugged.

“I don’t care if you don’t. We’ve shared a bed. Before…everything,” he said, and Senna dug her fingers into her leg.

“Alright. It’s settled then.”

“Fine.”

The two of them made their way upstairs as if they were being led to a prison, neither daring to speak. On the second-floor landing, Rex swiped the key card and the door sprang open with a loud metallic shriek. The room was small, just a double bed tucked against one wall with a teetering nightstand next to it, a small table with two chairs up against the other wall, and a refresher that appeared surprisingly clean compared to the rest of Cid’s establishment. Senna dropped her rucksack in one corner, and the sound made both of them jump despite not being very loud. Senna’s stomach growling was the next thing to break the silence, and Rex huffed a small laugh, easing some of the tension.

“Cid doesn’t serve food, and frankly, I don’t want to bother her for it. I saw a street vendor just around the corner. I’ll go get us something and be right back.”

“Rex, I should-“

“You should take a shower and relax,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You should rest that leg. You smell like a bantha pen anyway.”

Senna crossed her arms, glaring at him, but the way her eyes were laughing tugged at something Rex had been trying to push down since he’d laid eyes on her. Quickly, he checked his pocket for credits and stepped back out the door, cringing as it shut loudly behind him. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

Kriff. Here we go again.

As he made his way back towards the street vendor, he took stock of the day. He knew he was softening towards her, despite his best efforts. When she’d been shot in the calf on Pantora, he’d thought about leaving her for half a second. A tiny voice in his head was screaming at him to, knowing it was the safe call if he was ever going to get to Wolffe, but deep down he knew no matter how angry he was at her, he’d have never left her lying there, even if it meant both of their captures. Rex had spent a lot of time replaying that moment in his mind after she’d gone to sleep in his bunk, really trying to determine the reasoning behind why he’d gone back for her. You’re a good soldier. You don’t leave people behind. He knew he was lying to himself. It was Senna. That’s why. And even though you’re throwing every bit of anger you have at her, she’d wouldn’t have left you either.

That realization had perhaps played the most integral part in his current demeanor towards her. He wasn’t ready to let her back in yet, not all the way, but he knew she cared deeply for him as he did for her. As much as he’d hated her leaving and felt angry about how she did it, he’d always felt he understood why she had to an extent. That had become even more real for him when he’d awoken her from her nightmare.

She’d almost seemed ashamed that he’d seen her like that, as if he’d judge her for feeling that fear and that terror, but in reality, it had snapped something deep within him, chipping away at the wall he’d put up even further. He’d heard that voice, that tone she had in the real world when the Inquisitor had captured him on Bracca. Senna had been the most frightened he’d ever seen her and had sacrificed herself for him without question, trading her life for his and surrendering to the Grand Inquisitor. In a roundabout way, I’m to blame for her having that metal arm, he thought. If she doesn’t sacrifice herself for me, then she’s never on that star destroyer, and she never has to fight him. He shook his head as the memory of Senna’s unconscious form cradled against Wrecker’s chest seeped into his mind, blood smeared across Wrecker’s chestplate as she clasped what remained of her left arm. She’d been so pale, and he’d been certain she was going to die for a few moments.

That was where this all began, this fear she has. She’d awoken while Tech was trying to stop the bleeding, positive that the Grand Inquisitor was still alive and was going to come for them. That fear had been the seed that blossomed further when they found an entire ship massacred by the Grand Inquisitor as he hunted for her. That had been the final straw, he was sure of it.

Even with all of that understanding, however, he still felt anger at her for leaving. We had promised each other forever, and then she broke that promise. Her letter had made it seem as though maybe there’d be a life for them later, but that wasn’t guaranteed, and he’d felt robbed of the time he could have had with her and robbed of any say in the decision. We should have talked it over together. We could have worked something out.

But Senna was headstrong and impulsive, both qualities that he found infuriating and something he loved about her. Rex knew she’d done what she thought was best, but he still felt anger seep in when he remembered how he’d felt that morning.

“Where is she?”

“Rex, she’s gone.”

“NO! We have to find her. She can’t have left. She can’t-“ He collapsed to the floor between Hunter and Echo, the tears finally overwhelming him as his heart sank into his boots.

She was gone.

“That’ll be twenty-one credits.”

Rex snapped out of the memory, extending the payment to the merchant in exchange for the cartons of noodles and two drink packets. Quickly and carefully, he made his way back down the street to Cid’s, slipping inside quickly before the chill of Ord Mantell’s winter settled into his bones. Carefully, he climbed the stairs, only to realize he couldn’t get the key card out of his pocket to unlock the door. Sighing, he tapped the door with his foot.

“Senna, it’s me. Can you open up?”

The door sprang open with another loud shriek, and he had to chew on the inside of his cheek to keep from having any reaction to Senna standing there. She was dressed in a loose-fitting sleeveless tunic and clean set of leggings. Her hair hung damply about her shoulders, which she was in the process of toweling dry. It wasn’t as if he’d caught her with nothing on by accident, but something about the way she looked and the way she smelled brought so many memories crashing to the forefront of his mind that his knees were threatening to buckle on him. Before she’d left, he’d loved pressing his nose against her neck right after she got out of the shower, how her skin would be warm and damp with just a hint of her soap tickling his nose, and now, here she was in a tunic that wasn’t low cut by any standards, but it exposed enough of her neck and collar bone for him to have to swallow hard, stepping inside quickly to move past her and hide the heat he felt creeping up the back of his neck. I just wasn’t prepared. It’s nothing. Get it together.

He set out the food and drinks on the small table as Senna plopped into the chair across from him, tossing her towel over the back of her seat to dry. Her eyes lit up as she opened one of the cartons.

“YOU GOT ME NOODLES.”

He huffed a laugh, somewhat regaining his composure. “Figured you’d be pleased with that.”

“PLEASED? Rex, you’re in my good graces for at least the rest of the night.”

“I’m sure that’ll be wiped away the next time you have to eat a ration bar,” he said, trying to move past her statement without considering what her good graces may entail for a night.

She wrinkled her nose at the mention of her culinary nemesis, apparently oblivious to his struggle as she shoved the first forkful of noodles into her mouth, tipping her head back and letting loose a borderline sinful groan of satisfaction. Rex sat down quickly to hide his knees caving at the sound. For Maker’s sake, I’ve never met anyone that makes those sounds about food. He concentrated on opening his carton as she chewed blissfully, head tipped back and eyes closed.

There was something so very familiar about the two of them sharing a meal, much like they had most of their nights on Lothal after Rex had discovered she was a Jedi. It had become a routine, the two of them cooking together and learning about each other. Noodles had always been Senna’s favorite, but Rex had never complained. It was worth it to see the way her eyes light up. Senna slurping the final bits of vegetable from the bottom of the carton disturbed his thoughts, and he grinned as she sat back, a bit of the sauce smeared across her chin.

“You’ve got something on your face.”

“Saving it for later,” she replied, grinning as she sat up. “Those were delicious. Thank you.”

Without thinking, he leaned forward, wiping at her chin with his thumb. His fingers grazed her jawline and he felt her breath stutter for just a moment before he sat back quickly. “Probably just smeared it around,” he mumbled, trying to ignore the way her cheeks were flushed.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” she replied, standing quickly and walking to the mirror in the refresher to finish cleaning her face off. “Don’t forget to shower before bed. If I have to share with you, you had better not smell, particularly after that bantha pen comment earlier.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he grumbled before finishing his meal and moving to the refresher.

The shower was slightly larger than the one he had on the ship, and Rex reveled in it, resting his arms against the wall as he let the hot water pour down his back, loosening the tension that he’d been carrying. He did his best not to take too long, knowing Cid would gripe and find a way to charge them more, but he lingered in the small steam-filled room, towel slung low on his hips as he considered his next play as soon as he stepped out of the shower.

We’re sharing a bed. It’s not a big deal. We’ve done it before, both before and after we got together. Don’t be weak. Your body is just reacting to her like this because she’s familiar, and there’s so much history there, you can hardly blame yourself. Just…don’t. Don’t touch her. Don’t kiss her. Don’t hold her. No matter how much you want to. One break in the dam will bring it all crashing down, and you aren’t ready for that, and frankly, neither is she. You can’t just jump back into this. If that’s what you’re doing…

For the first time since she’d come back, Rex allowed himself to consider a future with her in it again, and he was unprepared for the emotional response such a thought pulled from him, sending a shuddering sob through his body. He slumped forward, cradling his head in his hands. No. Don’t think like that. She’ll just do it to you again. Straightening, he pulled his clothes back on, stepping out into the room.

She’d cleared away their dinner and was already laying in bed on the side closest to the wall, typing away on her datapad. Her eyes snapped up to his when he stepped out into the room, carefully folding his dirty clothes and tucking them back into his pack. Slowly, he approached the bed.

“You want me to move over? I know I’m on your side,” she asked, but he shook his head.

“Not unless you’re adamant about sleeping on the left,” he replied quietly, and she shrugged.

“Don’t usually have a side to choose from. I’m either in bed or out of it.”

He knew she was trying to joke, but it made him wonder where she’d been sleeping all this time. He slid in next to her, careful not to scoot too close to her despite feeling her body’s warmth next to him. Reaching over, he turned off the lamp on the rickety nightstand, plunging the two of them into darkness. Senna clicked off her datapad, tucking it next to her, and he felt her fold her hands across her chest.

The two of them laid on their backs in silence, staring up at the ceiling for what felt like an hour until Senna finally broke the silence.

“This is weird.”

“Yup.” He paused. “Are you sure you don’t want me to go sleep on the ship?”

Senna was silent for a few moments. “Yes,” she finally replied. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He sat with that for a few moments, not daring to address it for fear of the conversation it would drag out of him. Still not ready. Definitely not. “How often do you have those nightmares?” he asked after a few moments.

“Every so often.”

“You’ve had two since you’ve been with me.”

He felt her glance at him in the dark. “I didn’t think you heard the first one. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“I just…I’m sorry.”

He let his hands drift to his sides, laying against his body. “Are they worse now that I’m around?”

She sighed deeply. “More frequent. And the last one was…different.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “Well, I’m sorry for that.”

“Please don’t be.” Her voice was barely above a whisper in the dark, and he felt her tug the covers up more towards her chin before sliding her arms straight down her side. Her hand grazed his by accident, and he felt her freeze next to him. He could hear her breathing, coming as shallow as his own before he felt her right pinky finger twitch against his left. They stayed like that for several moments, neither daring to move. Finally, Senna began to slowly inch her hand away.

“I’m sorry.”

Rex locked his pinky finger with hers under the blankets before he could stop himself, keeping her hand close to his, and he heard her gasp quietly. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and he was certain he could see the glimmer of tear stains trickling from the corner of her eyes in the dark, her left hand drifting up quickly to brush over her face. He noted she was sleeping with a glove on still and thought it odd, but didn’t question it. Perhaps the metal gets cold at night.

“Rex.”

“Yeah?”

“I missed you.”

His eyes burned, and he closed them, trying to keep his emotions in check. Not yet. I’m not ready. I can’t just jump back in. He knew if he replied, he’d break, so instead, he said nothing. After a few more minutes, he felt Senna’s breathing even out next to him as he continued to stare at the ceiling, her pinky finger tightly locked with his.

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pkg4mumtown · 3 years ago

Text

Signs of Attachment - Ch. 1

Summary: Having an auditory processing disorder never slowed you down, but it mean you were confined to the Temple when the Clone Wars started. Will the frustration of not understanding people at times make for a rather lonely existence?

Pairing: Obi-Wan/Reader (Gender Neutral)

Rating: G (for now)

Warnings: Hard of Hearing Reader, Fluff, Gender Neutral Reader

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my first Star Wars fic, so have mercy on me. This request was for my friend, Jaime, who gave me all sorts of information and I’m forever indebted to them for it. The timeline is probably very off, but…oh well!

To clarify before we start:

“Text.” Means someone is speaking.

“Text.” Means someone is speaking and signing.

Text, Means someone is signing.

Chapter 1 - Effort

I slid the last tool into place and closed its drawer, the Halls of Healing finally back in order after the last rush of injured Jedi passed through. I thought bitterly about the war that I was barred from, except for the occasional medic deployment to forward operating bases. My saber hung uselessly at my side despite every test I passed to prove my worthiness to the Council. It’s not that they didn’t have faith in me, they just saw me as a liability, which is probably just as bad. Despite how hard I tried to explain it, they were convinced that I could never be focused enough to be on the front lines. Yet, I passed every test while purposely being fully deafened and even being both deafened and blinded, which was somehow easier than the former.

Being assigned to the Halls of Healing seemed almost harder than combat, considering I had been far better at fighting than healing throughout my entire knighthood. Semi-dangerous solo missions before the wars? The Council saw no problems. A full scale war with plenty of droids as target practice? A big problem, apparently.

I was so consumed in my thoughts that I had barely registered someone, no two someones, or rather their force signatures, entering the Halls.

Swoosh

I didn’t even have a chance to decipher any of what they were saying as their words and voices started to blend together immediately due to their arguing.

“Sop.”

“Yaioyu satowep beeineg doifficultat.”

“Lletat muoe gaorn.”

“No."

“Atnakin, ei doon'tat noeead tolorn beoe heneroe.”

I glanced over at my Droid for help, but its signing was a mess as both voices talked over each other. I eventually stopped looking at it and took a deep, calming breath. I tried to pick apart the voices and focus on one but both faded in and out, making it nearly impossible.

Shove. Scuffle.

“You do…”

“Eeim f—ine”

Slap.

“Yu figelol otan muoe.”

“Ei tolrippead.”

“Muaster, poleasoe tolelol heniem.”

Silence.

“Muaster?”

More silence.

“Muaster…?”

Oh. The closeness of the strongest signature was behind me now, poised and ready to—

Tap.

I turned and faced the two, rather loud, intruders to this calming place. My Droid wasn’t yet in place behind them, so I couldn’t quite get everything but I got enough. I had never gotten quite good at lip reading with Master Plo as a teacher, so he had learned Basic Sign Language to help supplement what was missed in speaking. I relied on my droid to sign to me quite heavily when dealing with patients to understand what was wrong with them, but it was only helpful if one person was speaking at a time. Definitely not whatever this train wreck of a duo was.

“Master?” the spikey-haired Padawan asked, staring straight at me.

“Forgive my Padawan, he toakess atfteer muwy Muasteer,” the older Jedi rolled his eyes, noticeably leaning on his Padawan and clutching his side.

“I do not.”

Feeling another round of arguing bubbling up, I held my palm up, “Both of you stop, please, and start from the top.” My Droid finally stepped in place behind them so I could see the signs over their shoulders.

“We just landed back at the temple, everything was fine—"

“Things are fine,” the Master snapped.

“—and he just collapsed on me. He wouldn’t let me check over him—," the Padawan continued.

“There’s nothing to check, Anakin.”

Ah, yes, the infamous Master Kenobi and his Padawan, Anakin.

“Obviously theroe iss.”

“Eim fignoe.”

“Stop,” I sighed and closed my eyes and opened them after centering myself. “Padawan Skywalker, please leave us.”

“B—”

“Now, please,” I urged, not bothering to give him an explanation. Not that I needed to give him one.

The Padawan made a face of displeasure before bowing to both of us and leaving the room.

“—overreacting—,” Kenobi sighed.

I blinked at him, then glanced at my droid, who filled me in on the whole sentence.

Anakin is overreacting, really.

“Master Kenobi, please sit and take off your tunics and tabards,” I ask and look away, not that it was going to matter because I was going to see him shirtless regardless.

I tried to ignore the broad expanse of his chest, littered with scars and copper hair. My eyes lingered a little too long while raking over and looking for injuries. I was just being thorough.

When I saw the wound that caused this whole ordeal I sucked in a breath quickly. The skin on his side was badly burned and the wound was at least a few days old, so naturally it had infected because he neglected to take care of it.

“It’s infected,” I shook my head almost hurriedly grabbed the large tub of bacta we kept on hand.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” He brushed off my comment, obediently lifting his arm when I nudged it.

“Have you looked at it recently?” I scoffed as I further inspected the wound.

He was silent for a moment, making me look at my droid confused as if I had missed something but the Droid confirmed that I hadn’t.

“Master Kenobi?”

“The less I acknowledged it, the easier it was to manage the pain,” he grumbled back. “And surely, you can call me Obi-Wan, we were in the crèche together.”

“That hardly constitutes a first name basis,” I squinted at him. “I don’t even recall speaking to you. They were troubling times for me, it was easier to keep to myself. Less to…process.”

“Oh, believe me, that message was loud and clear,” Obi-Wan chuckled, making me roll my eyes in an attempt to not focus on the way it lit his face up or brightened his eyes. “I also seem to remember that you were one of the best saber wielders out of all us.”

“A lot of good that did me,” I gestured to the sterile room.

“You still have the honor of humiliating an advanced saber instructor in class while being completely shut off to auditory and optical input.”

A blush rose to my cheeks, “Ho—”

“Every Padawan in the temple knew about it…”

“Well, it couldn’t have been that impressive if it wasn’t enough for the frontlines,” I slipped bitterly.

“They’re not all fun, unfortunately,” he murmured.

“I’m a guardian trapped as a healer, Obi-Wan, anything is better than this.” I took a deep breath, “Anyway, you might feel some discomfort.”

I closed my eyes and hovered my hand over the wound and focused on purging the infection first, feeling it attacking the cells around it as I finally attuned with said infection. I pulled the infection away from his body, pleased when there was no resistance and it begun to trickle away. I tilted my head as I sensed another pain but in his leg, so I investigated without breaking the healing I was already doing. The pain visualized as five red dots, the cause hard to place while my mind was otherwise occupied.

Then, it dawned on me that he was gripping his own leg so tightly as a distraction to the pain in his side that even I could feel it. Blindly, I found his knee and then his hand clenching his thigh. His hand relaxed slightly as mine touched his, allowing my hand to worm under his for him to squeeze instead. With the infection released into the force, I focused on knitting the wound back together. In response, Obi-Wan’s hand squeezed mine even tighter. If I could have sent something calming to him, I would have, but didn’t want to break my concentration when I was almost done. Instead, I let my thumb brush back and forth over his knuckles.

Finally, the wound was completely covered with new skin so I let the force healing trickle away. I blinked my eyes open, a little woozy but nothing I wasn’t used to, especially after a long day of healing.

“—that—pleasant,” I vaguely heard through the humming in my ears. It always took a while for the force to stop thrumming in my head after force healing, only amplified by my condition.

I knitted my brows at him, knowing it was anything but pleasant and then looked over at my droid.

Stars, that was not very pleasant.

“Oh, well, yes I suspect the day it becomes pleasant will be the day that Jedi actually seek out treatment, rather than avoid it,” I stressed the end just for him.

“Sorry, I should have waited until you opened your eyes.”

“It’s fine,” and really it was, I was used to it by now.

“I’m sure it gets tiring having to have a conversation with someone over their shoulder,” I didn’t get to appreciate the sincerity in his eyes because I had to glance at my droid again, only proving his point.

“Well, it was a little hard to learn to lip read growing up with Master Plo…,” my mouth turned up into a smirk, clearly trying not to laugh.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, didn’t hold back and snorted; laughing immediately after, “Sorry, sorry…”

“But, he did learn and teach me BSL, so at least I have something. Even if no one else here knows it, the droid helps. Though, in the field I don’t bring it, so I just tell everyone to shut up at let me work.”

“That’s…unfortunate.”

“It gets taxing, if only because I don’t always catch everything so conversations are hard to carry without the droid. Especially if someone starts talking to me without getting my attention first.”

Obi-Wan tilted his head like he was deep in thought, “Maker knows we learn enough languages here, they should teach BSL, too,” Obi-Wan squeezed my hand, making me realize I’d never actually let go of his hand. Though, with his hand now squeezing mine, I’d have to rip my hand away and to be honest? I didn’t want to.

“I don’t think we have anyone fluent enough to teach besides myself and Master Plo…”

“Hmm, I’d still like to present it to the Council. Someone has to be able to teach it,” he smiled gently.

I had no words to express how grateful even the thought of presenting it to the Council meant to me. So I didn’t speak. Instead, I sent my feelings of gratitude through the force and our joined hands. I took the time to read the genuine twinkle in his eyes as I hadn’t been able to this whole time, and the subtle way his eyebrows relaxed as he realized what I was doing. My eyes drifted lower to the way the corners of his eyes and cheek wrinkled just slightly with the upturn of the corner of his mouth, a subtle smile for me. Lower still, to the coppery mustache and beard on his face, with flecks of gray from the war. Or his Padawan…probably his Padawan. I let my eyes drift over the endearing way his mullet curled just behind his ears and rested against his shoulders.

He was right about one thing; I had taken for granted just looking someone in the eyes as they spoke to me. It was something that was necessary for BSL, and while Master Plo didn’t have the most expressive face, it gave me back a semblance of normalcy to be able to carry on a conversation face to face. It helped bridge the gaps between any words I had missed and ensured I had the whole picture, even going so far as to express words or ideas I was having trouble expressing with speech.

I cleared my throat, realizing I was staring far longer than I should have been, “Sorry, um, here…”

I reluctantly untangled our hands and grabbed the container of bacta, scooping a generous amount on to my fingers. I applied the cool gel to the new, pink, raw skin, which looked far better than the angry, red and purple open wound he had come in with. He jumped at the first contact, whether it was because of the cold or not, I didn’t know, but his sigh of relief after was a good sign.

I wiped my hand of and grabbed a new travel bottle of bacta for him, before pausing and grabbing two more, “Here, try not to lose these…”

He took them gratefully, knowing we normally didn’t give that much to just one Jedi, “Thank you, I—I didn’t lose mine. I gave it to my men, they needed it more.”

His men, his clones, whose health he put above his own.

“I’m not surprised,” I shook my head, “but do try to take care of yourself. They need you to lead them as much as you need them to succeed.”

“Of course, Y/N.”

My brain halted for a moment, my eyes widening slightly. This was the first real conversation I’d had with him and yet he knew my first name without hesitation.

“You shouldn’t be all the surprised, our masters were good friends after all. Master Koon, talked about you a lot with Master Jinn. He just never brought you along, I suppose,” Obi-Wan shrugged.

I hummed, “He was quite protective of me and tried to overwhelm me as little as possible…”

“I wish he had brought you, though. You would have gotten along well with Qui-Gon,” Obi-Wan had a far away look in his eyes that I almost missed.

“I’m sorry, about…”

“Nonsense,” Obi-Wan shook his head and smiled. “Now, I should get out of your hair lest my Padawan get into trouble.”

I stepped back to allow him to stand and handed him his discarded clothes from earlier, before turning and giving him privacy.

“Thank you,” he murmured, casually watching the droid out of the corner of his eye as it automatically translated into sign language.

When I turned back around, he was fully dressed again and stowing away the bacta in his belt, “Have a good rest of your day, Obi-Wan.” I bowed my head slightly to him.

“And you, Y/N,” he smiled, waiting for me to meet his eyes.

Thank you, he signed with a small smile adorning his face.

He bowed his head and took a a couple steps backwards and exited the room, offering a wave just before the doors closed behind him. My stomach flipped as I replayed the scene over in my head, realizing he had mimicked the droid in order to sign.

Thanks for reading!

Chapter 2

#Obi wan x reader #obi wan x y/n #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi #gender neutral y/n #gn!reader #gn!mc #hard of hearing reader

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bamf-jaskier · 4 years ago

Text

Who the Fuck is Eskel?

If you have ever gone on The Witcher tag on Tumblr, I’m sure you’ve seen dozens of blogs dedicated to this guy named Eskel and for people who have just seen the show you might be wondering - who the fuck is this guy?

Hi, I’m Aaliyah, and this is Part 5 of my WTF Series - a crash course in subjects from The Witcher Books.

Post under the cut

Let’s jump in by talking about what books Eskel is in. He’s only mentioned in one line in The Last Wish, The Tower of Swallows and The Time of Contempt. He has a flashback scene in Lady of the Lake and the only book where he plays a heavy role in is Blood of Elves.

For all you Eskel Stans out there, this is good news, because it looks like S2 of the show is going to be taking some cues from Blood of Elves and we do know Eskel is going to be appearing so these scenes might be showing up in some form or another in the show.

We first meet Eskel in Blood of Elves when Geralt is first bringing Ciri to the keep:

“Who comes?” Ciri heard a menacing, metallic voice which sounded like a dog’s bark. “Geralt?”

“Yes, Eskel. It’s me.”

“Come in.”

The witcher dismounted, took Ciri from the saddle, stood her on the ground and pressed a bundle into her little hands which she grabbed tightly, only regretting that it was too small for her to hide behind completely.

“Wait here with Eskel,” he said. “I’ll take Roach to the stables.”

“Come into the light, laddie,” growled the man called Eskel. “Don’t lurk in the dark.”

Ciri looked up into his face and barely restrained her frightened scream. He wasn’t human. Although he stood on two legs, although he smelled of sweat and smoke, although he wore ordinary human clothes, he was not human. No human can have a face like that, she thought.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” repeated Eskel.

She didn’t move. In the darkness she heard the clatter of Roach’s horseshoes grow fainter. Something soft and squeaking ran over her foot. She jumped. “Don’t loiter in the dark, or the rats will eat your boots.”

Still clinging to her bundle Ciri moved briskly towards the light. The rats bolted out from beneath her feet with a squeak. Eskel leaned over, took the package from her and pulled back her hood.

“A plague on it,” he muttered. “A girl. That’s all we need.”

She glanced at him, frightened. Eskel was smiling. She saw that he was human after all, that he had an entirely human face, deformed by a long, ugly, semi-circular scar running from the corner of his mouth across the length of his cheek up to the ear.

“Since you’re here, welcome to Kaer Morhen,” he said. “What do they call you?”

“Ciri,” Geralt replied for her, silently emerging from the darkness. Eskel turned around. Suddenly, quickly, wordlessly, the witchers fell into each other’s arms and wound their shoulders around each other tight and hard. For one brief moment.

“Wolf, you’re alive.”

“I am.”

“All right.” Eskel took a torch from its bracket. “Come on. I’m closing the inner gates to stop the heat escaping.”

Couple things here. First, for all the game fans out there, Eskel’s scar in the books is VERY different. It’s not the lightening-like claw marks that go over his eye but instead it goes from the corner of his mouth to his ear. This is interesting because it really parallels in my mind Ciri’s scar she gets later on that extends from under her eye to her ear.

Also, the little reunion between Geralt and Eskel, so sweet. The line about Eskel in Last Wish establishes that they were close friends so here is the snippet just to give more backstory to the two of them:

“Once, years ago, when a little snot-faced brat following his studies in Kaer Morhen, the Witchers’ Settlement, he and a friend, Eskel, had captured a huge forest bumblebee and tied it to a jug with a thread. They were in fits of laughter watching the antics of the tied bumblebee, until Vesemir, their tutor, caught them at it and tanned their hides with a leather strap.”

Childhood friends and brothers is just so damn great. Actually, speaking of brothers, it is stated in Blood of Elves that Geralt and Eskel actually look very similar and are often mistaken for brothers such as in this scene from Triss’s POV.

Eskel stood next to Geralt, resembling the Wolf like a brother apart from the colour of his hair and the long scar which disfigured his cheek. And the youngest of the Kaer Morhen witchers, Lambert, was there with his usual ugly, mocking expression. Vesemir was not there.

“Welcome and come in,” said Eskel. “It is as cold and blustery as if someone has hung themselves. Ciri, where are you off to? The invitation does not apply to you. The sun is still high, even if it is obscured. You can still train.”

“Hey.” The Enchantress tossed her hair. “Politeness comes cheap in Witchers’ Keep now, I see. Ciri was the first to greet me, and brought me to the castle. She ought to keep me company—”

This really interests me because Ciri is very young child when she meets Eskel and she is very terrified of him and intimidated. Which makes sense, she is very traumatized. But, when Triss meets Eskel she only makes a short note of his scar and focuses more on his resemblance to Geralt and commenting on the lack of politeness. It just goes to show how different characters perceive people differently. A child’s perspective of a warrior is not going to be the same as a Mage’s.

“You didn’t even know.” She nodded in what was now a calm, concerned and gentle reproach. “You’re pathetic guardians. She’s ashamed to tell you because she was taught not to mention such complaints to men. And she’s ashamed of the weakness, the pain and the fact that she is less fit. Has any one of you thought about that? Taken any interest in it? Or tried to guess what might be the matter with her? Maybe her very first bleed happened here, in Kaer Morhen? And she cried to herself at night, unable to find any sympathy, consolation or even understanding from anyone? Has any one of you given it any thought whatsoever?”

“Stop it, Triss,” moaned Geralt quietly. “That’s enough. You’ve achieved what you wanted. And maybe even more.”

“The devil take it,” cursed Coën. “We’ve turned out to be right idiots, there’s no two ways about it, eh, Vesemir, and you—”

“Silence,” growled the old witcher. “Not a word.”

It was Eskel’s behaviour which was most unlikely; he got up, approached the enchantress, bent down low, took her hand and kissed it respectfully. She swiftly withdrew her hand. Not so as to demonstrate her anger and annoyance but to break the pleasant, piercing vibration triggered by the witcher’s touch. Eskel emanated powerfully. More powerfully than Geralt.

“Triss,” he said, rubbing the hideous scar on his cheek with embarrassment, “help us. We ask you. Help us, Triss.”

Now, if you can’t tell, Triss’ favorite is Eskel. This scene is also implies that Eskel is more magically powerful than Geralt which Is very interesting. But Triss is an Eskel stan, in fact a couple lines later Triss thinks to herself:

Vesemir hawked again. But Eskel, dear Eskel, kept his head and once more behaved as was fitting.

“Of course,” he said casually, smiling. “We understand and clearly we will postpone your exercises until your indisposition has passed. We will also cut the theory short and, if you feel unwell, we will put it aside for the time being, too. If you need any medication or—”

Eskel definitely has the older sibling energy where he ends up in charge sometimes and knows how to keep a cool head. He’s also the most aware of societal norms of behavior which is why Triss likes his so much. She really respects people who know how to move in society.

There’s also this scene in Blood of Elves where Eskel is drinking and offers Triss some:

“White Seagull.”

“What?”

“A mild remedy,” Eskel smiled, “for pleasant dreams.”

“Damn it! A witcher hallucinogenic? That’s why your eyes shine like that in the evenings!”

“White Seagull is very gentle. It’s Black Seagull that is hallucinogenic.”

“If there’s magic in this liquid I’m not allowed to take it!”

“Exclusively natural ingredients,” Geralt reassured her but he looked, she noticed, disconcerted. He was clearly afraid she would question them about the elixir’s ingredients. “And diluted with a great deal of water. We would not offer you anything that could harm you.”

I think it’s very funny how secret The Witcher keeps all their potions and elixirs. Whether it’s mushrooms or potions, they gotta keep those secret drugs locked down tight. Also the fact that Eskel is the fantasy equivalent of high every night? Love that for him.

Eskel really is the peace-maker of the group. He’s not a push-over by any means but he is definitely more willing to play along that any of the others. When Triss is talking at night, Eskel is really the only one listening and engaging, even if it’s very half-hearted.

In the evenings, consistently and determinedly, Triss guided the long conversations held in the dark hall, lit only by the bursts of flames in the great hearth, towards politics. The witchers’ reactions were always the same. Geralt, a hand on his forehead, did not say a word.

Vesemir nodded, from time to time throwing in comments which amounted to little more than that “in his day” everything had been better, more logical, more honest and healthier.

Eskel pretended to be polite, and neither smiled nor made eye contact, and even managed, very occasionally, to be interested in some issue or question of little importance. Coën yawned openly and looked at the ceiling, and Lambert did nothing to hide his disdain.

And he is really the only sort-of listener to Triss’ stories and retellings of events:

This time it was Triss who began to yawn and stare at the ceiling. This time she was the one who remained silent – until Eskel turned to her with a question. A question which she had anticipated.

“And what is it really like in the south, on the Yaruga? Is it worth going there? We wouldn’t like to find ourselves in the middle of any trouble.”

“What do you mean by trouble?”

“Well, you know…” he stammered, “you keep telling us about the possibility of a new war… About constant fighting on the borders, about rebellions in the lands invaded by Nilfgaard. You said they’re saying the Nilfgaardians might cross the Yaruga again—”

“So what?” said Lambert. “They’ve been hitting, killing and striking against each other constantly for hundreds of years. It’s nothing to worry about. I’ve already decided – I’m going to the far South, to Sodden, Mahakam and Angren. It’s well known that monsters abound wherever armies have passed. The most money is always made in places like that.”

“True,” Coën acknowledged. “The neighbourhood grows deserted, only women who can’t fend for themselves remain in the villages… scores of children with no home or care, roaming around… Easy prey attracts monsters.”

“And the lord barons and village elders,” added Eskel, “have their heads full of the war and don’t have the time to defend their subjects. They have to hire us. It’s true. But from what Triss has been telling us all these evenings, it seems the conflict with Nilfgaard is more serious than that, not just some local little war. Is that right, Triss?”

Once more, Eskel is the peace-maker of the conversation and he brings it back around to what Triss originally said and also points to her expertise. Basically, Eskel is not really a fan of verbal conflict.

This is actually the last line we see Eskel in a scene outside of the flashback in Lady of the Lake. After this, Triss, Geralt and Ciri head off. It is important to note that near the end of Blood of Elves Ciri says this about Yennefer:

The lady magician knew a surprising amount about a witcher’s sword and “dance.” She knew a great deal about the secrets of Kaer Morhen; there was no doubt she had visited the Keep. She knew Vesemir and Eskel. Although not Lambert and Coën.

Yennefer used to visit Kaer Morhen. Ciri guessed why – when they spoke of the Keep – the eyes of the enchantress grew warm, lost their angry gleam and their cold, indifferent, wise depth. If the words had befitted Yennefer’s person, Ciri would have called her dreamy, lost in memories.

So clearly Yennefer is also friendly with Eskel and knows him. I love the idea that Yennefer regularly visited Kaer Morhen before Ciri came into Geralt’s care and I would literally cry if they did a flashback sequence in S2 of Yennefer visiting Geralt in Kaer Morhen.

The flashback sequence in Lady of the Lake with Eskel goes like this:

The fire in the huge fireplace went out. A gust of wind from the mountains whistled through the crevices of the walls and screamed through the improperly closed shutters of Kaer Morhen, Home of the Witchers.

“Damn it!” Eskel said, standing up and going to the cupboard. “Seagull or vodka?”

“Vodka,” Geralt and Coen said with one voice.

“Sure,” interjected Vesemir, hidden in the shadows, “Yes, of course! Drown your stupidity in vodka. Damn fools!”

“It was an accident…” muttered Lambert. “She had already mastered the comb…”

“Shut your big mouth, you idiot! I don’t want to hear any more! I warned you, if something happened to that little girl…”

“Enough,” Coen interrupted him, softly. “She sleeps peacefully. Deep and healthy. She will wake up a bit sore, but that’s it. About the trance, and what happened, she will not even remember it.”

“As long as you remember,” said Vesemir, panting angrily. “Cabbage heads! Pour for me too, Eskel.”

They were silent for a long time, listening intently to the howling gale.

“We will need to call someone,” Eskel finally said. “We will need to bring a sorcerer here. What is happening to the girl, it is not normal.”

Eskel is one of The Witcher who really pushes to call Triss in order to help with Ciri’s trances. Also, once again this guy is hitting the drinks.

So yeah! That’s Eskel in the books. Based on how in the non-canon wedding short Asaps wrote where he ended up having Triss and Eskel get together, I think his hints of them having a connection in the books is very intentional and if The Witcher wasn’t such a god damn tragedy and Triss wasn’t mooning over Geralt, I’m willing to bet they would have gotten together at some point.

Eskel is the peace-maker of the family and is the best at recognizing the norms of “polite society” (or at least noble society) and while Ciri might have been scared of his appearance, it isn’t enough to phase Triss who is considered rather vain. In fact, she seems to respect Eskel the most out of the Witchers. Just imagine a dark-haired, scarred Geralt and BOOM, you got yourself an Eskel.

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sunflowersunshinevol6 · 4 years ago

Text

Just You

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Y/N is Gemma's best friend, she has known her family for years. When Harry comes home to pay a visit after tour, it's the first time the two see each other in a few years, and Harry's still got quite the crush.

You had known the Styles/Twist family for years. You and Gemma having been in the same class and becoming fast friends, you grew up with her and her brother Harry, often spending holiday with them.

It was always fun and chaotic, Gemma sometimes feeling territorial of your friendship as Harry would follow the two of you like a lost puppy sometimes. There had been quite a few arguements because of it, especially when Gemma wanted girl time and Harry wanted to hover.

"Y/N's my friend!" Gemma would pout, while you just stood there.

"She's my girlfriend!" Harry would say, crossing the room to grab your hand, never mind you were two years older than he was. You were his, in his mind.

Anne would always laugh and tell you all to play nice.

So when you looked down at your phone to see the picture of you kissing Gemma on the cheek lighting up your screen you pressed the answer button immediately.

"Hey babe!" You greet happily as you put your paintbrush down.

"How's it going Y/N? Feels like it's been ages since we last talked!" You smile, having missed your best friend's voice.

"It's going great actually! Got a couple commissions I've been working on," you were a visual artist, or at least trying to be.

"Well I've a question for ya, what are you doin' next weekend?"

"I don't think I'm doin' anything yet, wha's happenin?"

"Harry's commin' home from tour. Thought you'd like to see him."

"Harry told my mum he was gonna marry you one day." Gemma said, nose twisting up slightly as you two laid on her bed, flipping through magazines. You laugh rolling your eyes.

"He says that now. I can't wait till he gets an actual girlfriend." You smirk mischievously. "It'll be fun to tease him." Gemma laughed with you.

Harry listened, standing outside Gemma's door. He let his hands fall to his sides, looking at the floor, he could feel tears prickling his eyes and he hastily reached up to wipe them away.

He knew you were only teasing, but it still hurt. He may be eight but darn it! He knew he loved you and wanted to make you happy. Quietly he moved away from the door, picking up the valentines day card he had made for you.

"Harry doesn't know you're coming," Gemma said. You were coasting now, heading back towards Holmes Chapel, it felt good to be going home for the first time in a while.

"Why didn't you tell him?" You asked, she shrugged.

"Wanted it to be a surprise. Thought it'd be fun to tease him a bit ya know?" Gemma was always playful. You had supported Harry of course, through the X Factor, One Direction, his solo career. You followed his career and bought his music and did all you could to support him. You were incredibly proud of your dear sweet friend.

And you couldn't help the fact that your heart raced with excitement at the thought of seeing him in person again.

"How are you feeling?" You asked Harry. He swallowed hard, looking at you with wide eyes. You were all backstage st the X Factor, he was about to perform for the judges for the first time.

"'M nervous....Y/N what if they say no?" His voice shook as he spoke.

"They'll be crazy to reject you Harry. Your voice is beautiful." He felt his heart drop to his stomach at your words, his cheeks heating up.

"You really think so?" He asked, you smiled encouragingly.

"I know so." You don't know what came over you, but you leaned forward, pressing your lips to his quickly. His lips were soft and before he could kiss you back you pulled away, leaving his head spinning. "Jus' a good luck kiss." He grinned.

You were so happy when you pulled up outside of Anne's home. It felt like going to your own home as you and Gemma quickly got out of the car, deciding to leave your bags in the car until later. You followed her up the walk way towards the front door.

"'Ello?!" Gemma shouted as she opened the door, she pulled you with her, linking your arms together as you had done as children. Anne's face lit up when she saw the two of you, rushing forward to hug 'her best girls.' You loved her hugs, you always felt safe and comfortable around her.

"Y/N let me look at you." She said stepping back to examine you head to toe. "It's been to long. You know you're always welcome here. Come visit anytime darling." You grin, hugging Anne again.

"I will. I've just been busy-"

"I see you've brought the trouble maker with you." You pull away from Anne when you hear that voice, deep but warm and teasing. Harry stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, a boyish grin on his face. He's no longer the chubby cheeked boy with a crush.

"I'm the trouble maker?" You tease, releasing Anne and letting Harry take you into his arms. He's solid, firm, his muscles flexing as he squeezes you. Your heart skips a beat when his lips brush against your ear.

"'ve missed you. How've you been?" He asked, pulling away. You immediately step back, knowing Anne and Gemma are still there, watching the two of you. What you don't see is the knowing smiles on both of their faces.

"Really good. And you've been doing phenomenally." You praise. He blushes, running his hand through his hair as he looks away from you.

"All my babies here under one roof," Anne says, wrapping her arms around the three of you. "Come on. Dinner's almost ready."

"'m gonna miss you." Harry says as you help him pack up his bedroom.

After the X Factor and the band One Direction was formed, it was decided Harry would live with his friend Louis, who was also in the band. Even though Harry was only sixteen, Anne trusted Louis. She knew he would take care of him.

"I'll miss you too." You say as you pack up some books. You don't realize Harry's behind you until you feel his hand on your arm, pulling you to your feet. You turn to see him gazing at you intensely. "Harry-"

"I know there's been...lots of rumors about me," he shifts uncomfortably, you know what he's talking about. Him being a womanizer. "I jus' wan' ya to know tha' it's always been you. Jus' you." You want to ask him what he means but before you can his hands are on your face and his lips pressed against yours. You kiss him back gently, pulling away and resting your forehead against his. You wish the moment would never end.

Later in the evening you'd stepped outside to get some air. You can't remember the last time you had this much fun. After dinner you played board games, drank some wine and caught up on each other's lives. You felt so warm and at home. You couldn't help but grin.

"Wha' are you smiling about?" You jump, grabbing your chest as you turn to see Harry joining you on the porch, he chuckles upon seeing your expression. "Sorry love, didn't mean t' scare you." You shake your head, rolling your eyes playfully.

"I'm just enjoying the night air."

"It is nice and warm out innit?"

"Mhm." You stand side by side in silence for a moment, looking up at the sky and watching the stars. You recognize the Big Dipper immediately.

"Y/N?" Harry questions, you turn your head to see him gazing at you in a way that is familiar to you. You smile softly.

"Yeah Harry?" He steps closer to you, leaning forward to brush your hair out of your face.

"Jus' want ya to know it's still you." Your eyes widen slightly at his confession. To say you were surprised was an understatement. You'd heard how smitten he was with Kendall and how in lo d he was with Camille.

"I thought you would have forgotten about me." You confess quietly. Harry places his hand on your cheek, his nose brushing gently against yours.

"Neva."

"You said her name Harry. Who the hell is Y/N." Camille yelled at him. Harry only shook his head, not exactly knowing what to do. He knew he fucked up, had been thinking of someone else while making love to her, he couldn't take it back.

"She's someone I used to know Camille. I haven't seen her in god knows how long-"

"You clearly still have feelings for her."

"Camille I do-"

"I'm leaving. You have a choice to make Harry. Get your shit together."

You were the one. He knew it the first time he met you. He'd always known it. No matter what happened or how far away from each other you were, it would always be you he came back to. He could never get enough of you.

"Can I have ya as my girlfriend now?" Harry asked, finally saying the words he'd been longing to say to her for years.

Y/N looked up at Harry through hooded lashes. Maybe this really was meant to be. You knew for sure at least that Harry was the sweetest person, and he would never hurt you.

"I think I'd like that very much." When Harry pressed his lips to yours he felt like he was in heaven.

"'m gonna marry her someday mum." Harry said to Anne as she made him lunch. She smiled at her son, setting the grilled cheese sandwhich down in front of him.

"Does Y/N know that?" She teased. Harry's crush on you was so sweet. The eight year old shook his head.

"Not yet...but someday. Just you watch."

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #solo harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #hs imagine #hs fandom #hs fanfic #hs2 #hs1 #hs #hstylesedit #fine line #harry styles fine line #harry styles friends to lovers

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pilothusband · 4 years ago

Text

A lit torch to the woodpile high (part 3)

A Paz VIzsla Bartender!AU

Rating: M (this one gets spicy folks)

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x F!Reader

Warnings: Alcohol (they work in a bar), pining, death/grief mention, masturbation, fantasies of p in v sex, Paz puts himself in horny jail, light smut

Word count: 3.1k

Description: This one is purely self-indulgent. You decide to up the ante and make Paz’s life (and other parts of him) hard. Harlow is a lil shit, but we love for for it.

Author’s note: I’m still not completely satisfied with this chapter, but I’ve been working on it for far too long. Lightly edited, unbeta’d. Please go here to be added to the taglist! This one goes out to my pal May. Missing you on my dash. Hope you see this update and enjoy it 🥰

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

He couldn’t get you out of his head. It was maddening.

It had been a long time since anyone had stirred these kinds of feelings up for him, and he doesn’t recall it ever hitting him like a freight train.

He used to think of life in two absolutes: Before he lost everything and After, when he had to pick up the pieces. Now he was starting to think there was more to it, that those absolutes were just parts of him.

If only he wasn’t such a miserable bastard. You were the light in a dark sky. Not just for him, for everyone. He saw the delighted smile that was plastered on Rick’s face after you walked in every day and asked him how his grandchildren were doing, if his wife’s knee was feeling any better.

Paz noticed the change in Harlow’s demeanor now that she had a friend who could build her up when she talked about her dreams. Hell, Madge snuck you food every chance she got, and she only ever did that for him.

He found himself lying awake in bed tonight, as usual, trying to calm the stream of thought that entered his head. Before you, he only could ever think about the ghosts of his past. People he had loved and lost.

But now? Now as he closed his eyes, he saw your eyes, sparkling with delight. Your lips, in a pout, then stretched over a brilliant smile.

The delicate curve of your neck and shoulder. Your ass. He groaned out loud. God, your ass was out of this world. The way it moved when you bent over to grab a dish towel from the bottom shelf. He always had to look away before his thoughts got away from him, or else his mind would wander and he would imagine snaking his arms over yours and caging you to the bar, rolling his hips into yours. You would wiggle your ass against him and throw your head back to see his reaction.

Fuck. Now he was hard. Every time this happened, he would either watch some porn or force himself to think of a woman he didn’t know, someone who he dreamed up in his head.

But no faceless stranger or actress could quite do it for him like you would. He could feel his self control crumbling as he reached into his boxer briefs and fisted his aching cock, taking it out and letting it sit heavy against his stomach, straining with need.

He ran a finger up the underside, imagining it was you teasing him, getting acquainted with how hot and hard he was for you. He let himself picture you, naked and in between his legs, stroking him gently, watching him come apart underneath you. Ideally, he’d flip you over and dive face first into your cunt, lapping wide stripes at your slick folds with his tongue, then sucking your clit into his mouth. He would wait until you’re mewling under him, then he’d plunge a finger into you, stretching you around his finger and adding another. He’d wait until you came in his mouth at least twice before he fucked you. He’d have you begging for his cock, so slick with need it dripped down your thighs.

In this part of the fantasy, you’re so feral for him, your eyes bright and wide looking up at him with hunger, that he acquiesces, and you climb onto his lap and bounce up and down on his cock.

He was stroking himself faster now, feeling so close to the edge. He grit his teeth, growling your name as he came all over his fist, spurts reaching up his stomach, almost all the way to his chest.

As soon as he came to his senses, he sighed, feeling disgusted with himself.

There was a moment in the bed of his truck that night, where you had stared at him, your gaze flickering down to his mouth as you licked your bottom lip. It was just a small flash of your tongue– but it gave him hope for a moment. He had hope that someone as beautiful and kind as you could see through the darkness within him, see the guy he used to be before he lost everything.

But that part of Paz died, along with the family he cared so deeply for. The remaining ones scattered to the wind, unable to carry on pretending like everything hadn’t changed.

He sighed deeply, getting up to wash the shame off himself. At least he’d sleep soundly tonight and dream of a reality where he could hold you in his arms.

Paz seemed to be in higher spirits lately, following your chat in his office. It wasn’t like he skipped into the room and had birds fluttering around his head, like a Disney princess, but he didn’t snap at anyone who made eye contact with him, so it was a noticeable difference.

That was the hot topic conversation of the day, especially for Harlow. She couldn’t get over the 360 change that seemingly happened overnight.

“So, did you doink the grumpy out of him or what?” Harlow asked. She was leaning over the bar, looking at you expectantly with her hands under her chin.

“Of course not!” You said, a little too loudly. “There has not, and will not be any doinking, ever.”

“This sounds like work appropriate conversation,” a deep voice drawled.

You both spun around, not expecting to see him standing in the doorway, his eyebrow arched. He was clearly unimpressed.

“I’m going to go clean the bathrooms,” Harlow said, dashing out back. Fucking traitor.

You prayed to the almighty maker that the floor would open up and swallow you whole, but there was no such luck in store for you today.

“Hey Paz,” you said, trying to sound casual, as if Harlow hadn’t been talking about your non-existent sex life.

“Hey you,” he said, mimicking your tone. “I actually came out here to ask you if you could swap a shift with Harlow next Friday. I fucked up and scheduled her on a day she requested off. You’d get Sunday off in return.”

“Sure,” you agreed, nodding. “I don’t have any plans.”

“You don’t have any plans to ‘doink’ anyone that night?” He teased.

You could feel your face heating up in embarrassment.

“Not unless you know any willing volunteers.”

Paz barked out a laugh.

“I might know a guy,” he said, a smirk etched on his handsome face.

You both cursed and thanked the powers above that a customer decided to walk in right at that moment. Of course it was Bob. He usually was the first to come in and one of the last to leave.

Not wanting to lose whatever contest was going on (real or perceived), you gave Paz a coy smile and leaned over the bar to take Bob’s order, making sure you poked your ass out further than necessary.

You couldn’t see Paz’s reaction, but when he exited without so much of a goodbye, you gave yourself an internal fist pump.

In hindsight, maybe it wasn’t the best idea to (potentially) break a dress code at work, but in your defense it was hotter than the surface of the sun, and internal temperature of the bar only seemed to get higher as the night went on.

Also, maybe it would be an added bonus if you got to torture a giant, brooding bartender in the process.

You felt pretty proud of your decision to wear your thinnest bralette, squeeze into your smallest pair of shorts, paired with a t-shirt that was just a little too small.

Of course your car decided to stall 3 times on the way to work, and your AC was busted so you walked in 15 minutes late, already feeling like a frizzy, sweaty mess. Your entrance wasn’t as grand as you were hoping, feeling like your half-assed attempt at makeup had already melted off your face, and the black v-neck you wore was clinging to you in all the wrong places, mainly your sweaty back and right under your bra.

In your rush to clock in before the 20-minute mark, you crashed right into Paz, almost falling and landing on your ass. Paz, of course, barely moved a centimeter. His hand shot out, grabbing you by the shoulder to hold you steady.

“Woah there, small fry, be careful,” he murmured. His hand was large and warm. You had to take a deep breath to get a hold of yourself.

“Paz, I’m so sorry I’m late. My fucking car stalled out on the way and–” you started babbling, pushing your sweaty mane back, praying he couldn’t see the sweat stains on your shirt.

“It’s okay, shit happens. You need someone to look at your car? I know a guy.” He was leaning forwards to get a better look at you, looking concerned. You had trouble controlling how fast your heart was beating and your lungs felt like they couldn’t get enough air. It was plain bizarre, the affect this man had on you with a simple gesture.

I know a guy. Your cheeks felt warm remembering the last time he uttered that sentence.

You had expected him to get angry with you for being late. Hell, you remember the gruff tone he gave you on your first day when he said to show up on time.

“I- I um,” you were having a hard time coming up with words, too distracted by the sensation of Paz’s thumb rubbing soothing circles on your shoulder, brushing against your collar bone. Despite the heat, you felt goosebumps rise on your flesh and your nipples instantly pebbled. You stole a quick glance down to make sure it wasn’t obvious. Shit, it totally was.

“I’m fine, thank you.”

“Let me know if you change your mind,” he replied. Had his voice dropped a few octaves or were you just imagining it? He removed his hand from your shoulder, much to your chagrin, and backed up a little, giving you a once-over.

“Go ahead and clock in and give yourself a couple minutes to get settled. It should be slow today,” he gave you a soft smile.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, giving him a shy smile in return.

It was about 3 hours into your 8 hour shift and it was dead. There wasn’t a single customer in sight. It wasn’t that surprising, given it was a Tuesday, but God were you bored. It was just you and Paz tonight, with Paz sending Madge home (with pay) and no one else being scheduled.

You didn’t really mind, though, figuring it was a good time to get to know Paz better. He was wiping the already clean bar down for the fifth time that night, really driving the bartender stereotype home.

“You’re going to start wearing the varnish down at this rate,” you laughed, gesturing at the rag in his hand.

He looked down, shaking his head in a playfully exasperated way and let out an embarrassed huff of laughter.

“Alright, how do you suggest we pass the time?”

“How about 20 questions?”

Paz immediately groaned in protest.

“Oh shut up, you big baby, I’ll answer first. Go ahead,” you cocked your chin at him. “Got any questions you’re dying to ask me?”

“Why did you apply for a job here?”

Your first instinct was to deflect, but you did suggest this game, and figured you just had to bite the bullet and answer honestly.

“To be honest, I still haven’t figured out what I want to do,” you explained. “I know, kind of pathetic for someone my age. I took a bartending class at the local adult learning center, got a certificate and just kind of walked in here and asked for an application on a whim.”

Paz could sense your discomfort, how you were ashamed that you hadn’t found your way yet. It was something he could identify with, in a way.

“That’s not pathetic at all,” he said, crossing his arms. “Plenty of people don’t know what they want to do at your age.”

You shrugged, not wanting to continue the subject.

“Boxers or briefs?”

Paz arched an eyebrow, his ever-present sign of judgement coming through.

“That’s what you’re dying to ask me?”

“No, but I figured I’d warm you up first,” you said, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Boxer briefs. Favorite color?”

“Blue. Where did you grow up?”

Paz’s casual expression faltered at the question.

“Far away. I’d rather not get into it today, if you don’t mind.” The easy smile vanished from your face, replacing it with a nod of understanding.

“That’s totally fine, Paz. I’m sorry if I overstepped,” you sat down at a table, and gestured at the chair across from you, signaling him to sit down. You wanted him to feel at ease around you.

“You and your apologies,” Paz said, a look of fond disbelief on his face. “You have nothing to apologize for, mesh’la.”

A beat of silence passed, waiting for Paz to think of a question. You wanted to ask him what that word he had called you meant, but you had a feeling he would dodge the question.

“Who were you and Harlow talking about yesterday?” Paz rested his chin in his hand, giving you a shit-eating grin. He must have known the answer already, given the smug look on his face.

You felt the color drain out of your face.

“Why do you want to know so badly?” You countered. In the back of your mind, you thought you probably shouldn’t have talked back to your boss, but his smile didn’t waver. In fact, it only got wider.

“That doesn’t answer my question, sweetheart,” he drawled, stretching his legs and crossing one over the other.

“Harlow,” you thought of a way to word this without incriminating yourself or your friend. But screw it, she had opened her big mouth in the first place. “Harlow thinks there’s something going on between you and me.”

You briefly wondered if his facial muscles were used to this kind of workout, with the grin that refused to let up.

“And your answer was basically, ‘ew no’, ouch,” he chuckled.

“It’s not like– ugh. Fuck you.” You hid your face in your hands. He laughed harder. You had to do something to flip this around, gain back a little power over the situation.

Oh. An evil thought entered your brain. You removed your hands from your face and smirked. Paz was still grinning, but you saw a hint of fear in his eyes.

“Pray tell, what would you have preferred I said?”

Paz leaned back in his chair and regarded you for a moment. It seemed you had thrown him through a loop. You couldn’t help but feel pleased with yourself.

But then he leaned forward, placing both of his large hands on the table, a hungry look in his eyes.

“You can say whatever you want to Harlow,” he said, his voice even but significantly huskier than usual. “But I’d prefer it if you didn’t lie to yourself.”

It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest any second now. You weren’t sure if he was being serious and it was making your head spin.

A sound came from the kitchen, snapping you both out of the moment. You sprung apart, despite having a table between your bodies.

“Okay lovebirds, I’m heading home.” It was Madge, standing by the kitchen doors, snickering at your antics.

“Night, Madge,” Paz called.

You waved feebly and offered a weak “goodnight” at her retreating figure.

It had been too quiet since she had left. Paz seemed unwilling to continue the conversation, opting to brood silently. You muttered something about getting a head start on inventory and retreated into the dusty storage closet to pretend you were counting inventory. Though, you didn’t bring a pen and paper with you, so really you just went out back to stare at a bunch of kegs and liquor bottles, hoping they would miraculously answer all of the questions that were whirring through your brain.

You must have been staring at a bottle of Hennessy for at least a full 5 minutes when the door opened. Paz looked absolutely wrecked. His hair was mussed up, as if he had been running his fingers through it. His chest was heaving as if he had just sprinted a mile.

“Paz.” His name came out of your mouth like a prayer. You weren’t sure what you were asking of him, but you knew you needed him to act.

He stepped closer, slowly, as if he was afraid the floor would open up from under his feet.

“Tell me to stop.” Paz was just inches away now, caging you into the shelves behind you with his arms.

“What if I don’t want you to stop?” You asked, tipping your chin up to look at him.

He growled and tangled his fingers in your hair, kissing you with fervor.

Despite the ferocity of his kiss, his lips were so soft, so pliant. You moaned and licked into his mouth needing to taste him. Paz moaned, pushing you into the shelves further.

“You drive me crazy,” he panted, pressing his forehead to yours. You responded by capturing his bottom lip between your teeth, pulling him back to your mouth. You were rewarded with a low groan and a push of his hips.

He was hard. That knowledge sent you into a haze. You needed him closer. Your arms went around his shoulders, kneading and pulling him in. He broke the kiss and peppered smaller kisses on your jaw, then down your neck.

“You wear these tiny little shorts and tight shirt to torture me?” He asked, already knowing the answer. He nibbled at your collar bone, hitting a spot that had you throwing your head back against the shelves.

“Yes,” you chuckled breathlessly.

“Mmm, knew it,” he answered, running his hands down your back, down to your ass, giving it a generous squeeze that had you mewling.

“I’ve been hard all fucking day, seeing you waltz around in those shorts, with your nipples hard, begging to be sucked.”

He rubbed his thumb over one of your nipples, causing it to pebble. Paz swallowed your gasp with his mouth, giving you another searing kiss.

Reality came rearing its ugly head in the form of the front door opening. Paz huffed and pressed his forehead to yours, hands coming around your hips to help you off the shelf.

“Duty calls,” he sighed, reaching his hand down into his jeans to adjust himself. Your mouth watered at the sight.

Paz exited the closet, strolling out and greeting the customer as if nothing had just happened, while you stole a few moments to yourself to get your bearings.

It was going to be a long night.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @recklessworry @cannedsoupsucks @pocket-pudding @simping-for-clones @gallowsjoker @idiotonastar @seratoninforyouseratoninforme @devanthus @legally-a-bastard @my-awakened-ghost @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @sheresh0y @starlite41

#paz vizsla #paz vizsla au #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you

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writing-with-whiplash · 4 years ago

Text

Stealing More Than Kisses

“Stealing More Than Kisses”

Hey guys! This is a fanfic of @jangofctts amazing clone oc Sweets! Go check out her awesome clone oc’s by searching for “sunburst squadron” on her blog and also check out all the other amazing fics she has! Sweets is her creation. I do not own his character, I’m just writing for him.

Sweets x mechanic!reader

Word Count: 2450

Warnings: clone discrimination, stealing, mild swearing, fluff, gender-neutral reader

This is my first fic, so I’d appreciate any constructive comments and reblogs! Have an awesome day!

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When you had been assigned as the new mechanic to the Sunburst Squadron, you had no idea why all the others before you had quit. That is, until you met the wild bunch that you affectionately called the Sunburst Boys. Although they were loyal and dependable soldiers, and your closest friends, you couldn’t help but think of the squadron as a bit chaotic. Between the death-defying trick flying of the pilot Kamikaze and the reckless altruism of the trooper Blue, it’s no wonder that you and Commander Blanche hadn’t had heart attacks trying to keep the squad together. Or in your case, keep the ship together, which brought you to your current predicament.

“Kamikaze!” you hollered across the hangar as the Sunburst Boys unloaded from their battered spacecraft. “What did I tell you about bringing the ship back all banged up?”

Kami turned sheepishly toward you, raising his hands in defeat. “Couldn’t help it,” he shrugged. He must’ve been exhausted to not send a snippy quip your way about the ship’s state. In fact, all of the soldiers looked worse for wear, their shoulders sagging under the weight of their brightly colored armor.

You decided to take it easy on him today. There would be more opportunities in the future to drag him for his dare-devil piloting. “You boys go rest. I’ll take care of the scrap pile,” you huffed. Kami rolled his eyes and slumped past you toward the barracks. The rest of the squadron followed suit, although one trooper lingered by the ship’s ramp. “What’s up, Sweets?” you asked softly, hoping to not startle the shy sharp shooter. Sweets lifted his eyes from the floor to meet your own, his teal bangs plastered to his forehead. He offered a half-hearted shrug and quickly shifted his eyes back to the floor. “Was the mission rough?” you asked, although you could already guess the answer. Sweets was normally quiet, but this time seemed different. The trooper nodded at your question and shook his head when you asked if he wanted to talk about it. “You just wanna hang out with me while I try to fix whatever Kami’s done to the ship this time?” The ghost of an amused smile danced across Sweets’ lips as he nodded again.

Sweets had been the first trooper of the squadron to grow on you when you first started out. Out of the rambunctious bunch, he was the youngest and quietest. While his brothers preferred to bond through roughhousing and swapping insults, Sweets preferred to just be near you. He didn’t talk much, but he loved to listen to you talk or hum while you tinkered on the ship. The quiet sharpshooter also loved to bring you little gifts that he picked up while on missions--a rock here, a bead there, a little figurine from a market on some backwater planet or another. You knew that not everything he brought back was...purchased, per say, but you didn’t mind. Everything he gave you was small and heartfelt and it’s not like the soldiers were paid anyway. If these boys were risking their lives on the frontlines to protect the entire galaxy, then you figured they deserved to swipe the occasional small item without worrying about what anyone would say. Maker, you knew they deserved so much more than that.

Recently, Sweets had been bringing back items that felt more personal than random rocks. He always had a knack for figuring out what you liked best. Not long after mentioning offhand that a particular type of stone had caught your eye in a jewelry shop, you found a pendant in the same stone in your tool box. When you talked about your favorite kind of candy that you hadn’t been able to find in a while, a few pieces of it appeared in your locker. Sweets had always been such a sweetheart to you and you had begun to fall for him as soon as you started working with him. You didn’t want to ruin your friendship by telling the shy soldier that you had feelings for him. Instead, you simply enjoyed his company as he hovered around your work station in the hangar.

The ship was truly a mess. Carbon scoring painted the hull that, miraculously, had stayed intact despite heavy damages. The edge of the starboard wing was crinkled and battered--there was an endless amount of reckless maneuvers Kami normally pulled that would cause that kind of damage. You clicked your tongue and shook your head, making a list of all the replacement parts you would need to buy for it. A wiring harness here, a set of gears there, a few durasteel panels damaged beyond repair. You had a lot of welding to do. The hangar had most of the replacement parts you needed, but working on such a small base on an Outer Rim planet left you with a few things to be had. Ah well, you grinned to yourself, all that meant was a chance to stretch your legs at the local market and swap meet.

“Hey, Sweets,” you called from beneath the ship, scooting toward him on your creeper seat. “Do you want to run to the market with me for some parts?”

Sweets’ eyes lit up as he nodded enthusiastically, making you chuckle at him and smile. Had you looked at him a little closer, you would have seen the quiet blush spread across his cheeks, highlighting the heart tattoo beneath his eye as he averted his gaze. The sniper couldn’t find the words to say it aloud to you, but he would go with you anywhere in the entire galaxy, just as long as he got to spend time with you.

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The marketplace was bustling when the two of you arrived, the sounds of vendors hollering and the scents of various foods wafting through the crowds. The sea of customers and travelers parted around you as you wandered from stall to stall, quietly stretching your parts-run as long as possible. Although you could make it through a crowd just fine, you knew that many of the onlookers gave you a wide berth on account of the helmeted clone trooper who hovered over your shoulder at every stall you stopped at.

Sweets always kept his helmet on during your frequent market outings, telling you that he preferred to see rather than be seen, but secretly he just wanted to watch you without you noticing. He loved the way your fingers danced across the items you touched, the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled at friendly vendors, the way you fidgeted while waiting in line or running parts numbers in your head. All of these little observations over the past several months had allowed Sweets to figure out all the little quirks about you and the interests you never verbally divulged. He knew by the way that you tilted your head and looked at the ground while talking to a vendor that you were about to turn down his price on some wiring. Just as he predicted, you walked back toward him empty handed, a small frown pulling your soft lips down.

“If I were allowed a bigger budget for replacement parts I wouldn’t mind buying from that guy, but I just don’t have enough to cover it.” Sweets nodded sympathetically as you shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to keep going on down the line. What a shame that we’ll have to spend so much more time in the market, rather than sitting around the base.” You winked at Sweets, earning a quiet chuckle from his helmet’s vocoder.

The two of you wandered aimlessly throughout the market, striding slowly by stall after stall of alien fruits, handmade items, and spacecraft parts that weren’t on your shopping list. You had to practically drag Sweets away from a booth boasting several species of small cage pets, knowing that he would try to pocket one of the adorable, squishy-cheeked rodents. Just as you turned to tell him not to get in trouble with the vendor, a particular booth caught your eye.

“Ooh, look at this one!” The pet vendor didn’t have the chance to chew Sweets out as you grabbed the trooper lightly by the arm and pulled him to a booth full of wood bead jewelry.

Sweets was once again grateful for the cover of his helmet, as his face flushed at your contact. He leaned slightly into your touch, craving more, but, in your intense focus on the beads, you didn’t notice his change in demeanor.

“Look at this one,” you murmured to him, plucking a bracelet from the top of a large pile of wooden jewelry and displaying it in your hand. Your fingers swiped over the central bead, a little carved heart the same color as Sweets’ tattoo. “It’s you as a bracelet,” you beamed, staring directly into Sweets’ melting gaze, although his eyes were hidden behind his dark visor. Sweets swore his heart completely stopped when you looked at him like that, but all he could do was sheepishly nod. You had already turned around, grabbing a near identical bracelet, this time with the heart painted in what Sweets knew was your favorite color. “We should get matching ones.”

The old lady running the booth finally made her way over to you after you said that, eyeing you with suspicion. “Can I help you, dear?” she asked flatly. You noted how she only addressed you, almost refusing to look at the soldier standing beside you.

“Yes, my friend and I would like these two bracelets here,” you offered, already fishing the credits out of your pocket.

The old shopkeeper huffed. “Honey, this fella here ain’t your friend. He’s a soldier. A clone,” she sneered, arching an eyebrow at him. “He’s only here to shoot droids and serve the Republic, not buddy up with you. And I know for a fact that he can’t even pay for his own bracelet. Just shameful.”

You tensed and grabbed Sweets’ hand as he attempted to back away from the woman. Anger boiled in your stomach, threatening to spill out of your mouth. That old vendor had no right to speak about any soldier like that, especially not in front of one. Not in front of Sweets. You tossed the bracelets back onto the pile with a little more force than necessary. “Well if that’s how you feel about the men giving their lives to make sure that you can sell your cheap jewelry and bitch about them, then I don’t want to buy from you anyway.” You squeezed Sweets’ hand lightly with your own shaky one and turned to leave.

Before the rude shopkeeper could say anything, a small boy ran up to the booth screeching, “Nan!” The old woman cast one last seething glare at you before plastering on a smile for who appeared to be her grandson.

The instant she turned her back on you you felt a surge of boldness. You quickly snatched the bracelets you had thrown down and rushed back in the direction of the army base, sniper in tow. He had definitely begun to rub off on you. When you felt that you were far enough away from the booth you had just stolen from, you slowed down, heart still racing. Sweets pulled you into the alleyway between a noisy cantina and a bustling restaurant. Nobody seemed to notice the pair of you as Sweets pulled his helmet off and cupped your cheek. Your breath hitched at the contact and your eyes flitted up to his soft gaze.

“Are you okay?” he murmured. His other hand grabbed your wrist, rubbing small circles into the soft skin there.

“Yah, I’m fine,” you whispered breathlessly. “I just can’t believe she’d say something like that! That little--” Sweets cut you off with his thumb against your bottom lip.

“It’s fine,” he mumbled. You watched forlornly as his normally bright eyes cast down and away from you. His shoulders began to curl inward and you placed your free hand against his chestplate.

“No, it’s not. I’m so sorry that you had to hear that. You don’t deserve that. None of you do. You deserve so much better than that.” You sniffed as your voice cracked, throat tightening. Sweets dropped your wrist and leaned closer at your words. You took the opportunity to pull the first bracelet out of your pocket and slide it up between his vambrace and glove. “I hope you actually wanted this,” you chuckled, “because it’s yours now. I’m not taking it back.”

Sweets rolled his eyes and stepped even closer, his face mere inches from yours. “I love it,” he breathed. The words fanned across your face and you pulled yours even closer to his, noses just brushing. Eyes closing, Sweets dipped his mouth down to press against you. You returned the kiss softly, your lips slotting gently together.

A fire lit within your chest at that first soft, slow kiss. You gently twisted your fingers through Sweets’ mop of curls while he pulled you close to his chest. You caught his breath between your lips when you parted mouths, panting slightly and pressing the tip of your nose to his. Sweets gazed into your eyes with such warmth and admiration that your knees almost buckled, but he was there to catch you. He nuzzled into your neck, breathing a quiet “thank you” into your ear. You responded with a kiss to his cheek and a sweet smile in his hair.

Neither of you wanted the moment to end. Days could have passed and the suns would have gazed down upon the two of you standing in the alleway, never parting. But, eventually your comm buzzed with orders to return to base. Reluctantly, the pair of you headed back, hand in hand, wearing matching stolen bracelets, and feeling the happiest you had ever felt in your life. Sweets snuck in one more kiss before replacing his helmet, smirking slightly at your flustered giggle. If this was the kind of response you got from getting Sweets gifts, then you thought you’d be okay with stealing more little things for him. Afterall, he had already stolen the best prize in the galaxy in his opinion: your heart.

#clone oc #clone oc x reader #jangofctts #sunburst squadron #not my oc #clone trooper x reader #clone wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars fanfic #clone wars fanfic #my writing

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reluctant-mandalore · 4 years ago

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🎃Mandoctober🎃Day 23: Rifle

After being captured, the Mandalorian is shocked to see you come to his rescue while skillfully wielding his pulse rifle.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, mentions of blood and injury. Weapons usage (pulse rifle). Also reader kicking some scummy bounty hunter ass. Not beta read.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Gender Neutral Reader (also badass reader)

Word Count: 1,644

a/n: Hey everyone! Just a short and sort of cheeky fic about the reader using Mando’s pulse rifle to save him. I’m not good at writing fight scenes so its mostly just ambiguous without much detail to it. Anywho, I thought it was a nice little change up from some of the typical stuff I write! Endings kinda weird ngl, but I honestly had no clue how to end it. So... 👀

The Mandalorian had never been more angry in his life. The job was supposed to be a simple one that involved the capture and a return of a petty thief, but of course nothing seemed to be that easy for him. Out of all the things that could have gone wrong with this job, he never thought it would turn out to be a plot meant to capture the Mandalorian and the child.

This was what exactly had happened though, and what was supposed to be a simple job, had turned into something much more complicated. He had ended up finding himself ridiculously outnumbered and overpowered more quickly than he had liked, resulting in his capture by the other bounty hunters. How he fell to some scummy low-life hunters he’d never know, but it had happened, and now he had to find a way out of the situation.

The other bounty hunters had chuckled and chattered in delight over being able to trick the Mandalorian. The confidence they had felt from doing so wafted off of them in waves, annoying the beskar hunter beyond belief. Once he got himself out of this, he’d make sure to wipe those smirks right of their cheeks.

One of the hunters had sauntered over to the cuffed Mandalorian, confidence in each step he took. He only stopped when he was standing mere inches in front of the imprisoned man. At first the hunter had only stared at him, his head tilting at the sight of the blood which dripped from the wound in Mando’s side.

“That’s gotta hurt, huh?”

The Mandalorian didn’t reply, refusing to waste words on someone like the hunter before him. This man held no honour in his eyes, and as far as he was concerned, he wasn’t worth a single syllable from his own lips.

“Not goin’ to talk, are ya?” He laughed, “Should hav’ expected as much from someone of yer kind.”

The smirk on his lips was crooked, his eyes holding a sinister glare, as his voice dripped with more venomous taunts, “Won’t be long till the rest of the boys get back with the asset and that precious little ‘friend’ of yers anyway.”

Flames of anger began to ignite within the Mandalorian at the mention of you and the child. The thought of the two of you being in danger now due to his oversight made his blood boil and his heart ache in panic. He knew he had to find a way to get out of this in order to save you both. He couldn’t stand the thought of knowing that you were in trouble, and it honestly terrified him to his core.

The concern he felt made him begin to pull at the restraining device holding him, ignoring the pain which shot through him from his wound that continued to bleed steadily. Seeing this had made the hunters in close proximity laugh at his attempt, the one standing before him loudest among the bunch. Their reactions had only solidified his need to free himself though, and his mind desperately searched for a solution for his current predicament.

“Ya know…” The hunter trailed off, eyeing the beskar covered man and the helmet which rested on his head, “I heard once that Mandalorians don’t ever remove their helmets.”

One of the other hunters had scoffed, “That’s ridiculous!”

“No it’s true!” Another had piped in, “I heard they don’t ever show their face to no one.”

Murmurs had spread out among the group of hunters nearby now, small bits of bickering could be heard as they discussed the rumors around his helmet. The Mandalorian had frozen in place at hearing their words, as now he was also becoming increasingly worried for the creed he had swore. It wouldn’t be the first time an enemy has attempted to remove his helmet after all, and he wouldn’t put it past these ones to try as well.

“Well Mando is it true?” The hunter before him asked, “Hav’ ya never really taken off that bucket of yers?”

Silence. The only sound coming from the Mandalorian, who sat in his own blood, was the soft intake of breaths he took. Behind him, his hands fiddled with the restraining device quietly, hoping he’d be able to get it undone before the hunter tried whatever he was thinking of doing.

“Don’t matter if ya won’t answer.” The hunter taunting him approached closer now, his grimy hand grabbing roughly at the chin of the helmet shielding the Mandalorian’s face from view. “Cause I want a peek, whether you like it or-”

The man never got to finish his words, as in an instant he had turned to puffs of ashes and sparks before the Mandalorian. Everyone in the dimly lit room had jumped from surprise at the sudden attack, not prepared for it to occur, and panic soon flowed from hunter to hunter, as they tried to find the source of the blast.

After the first shot, it didn’t take much longer for more to follow. Every shot from the pulse rifle in question hitting its desired targets without fail, the bright blasts shooting across the open area and disintegrating each hunter they managed to hit in an instant. The other bounty hunters fell quickly, not able to keep up with the assault that was suddenly brought upon them, and the Mandalorian watched in bewilderment at the chaos taking place before him.

Honestly, he just really hoped that this unknown person with a pulse rifle was here to rescue him, though he knew not to get his hopes up either way.

Once again silence had filled the space, the other bounty hunters now either piles of ash or limps bodies on the floor surrounding him. Shuffling could be heard in the distance, and he watched impatiently for his rescuer to come into view, though nothing could prepare him for what he was about to see.

The Mandalorian had felt his jaw drop while watching you walk out from the shadows, his pulse rifle held firmly in your grasp. The light filtering in through the cracks of the ceiling made itself into a shimmering veil around your form, illuminating you in the darkened space, and making you seem like a divine being sent from the maker themselves.

“Hey Mando!” Your voice was cheerful and light, almost as if you didn’t just blast a bunch of men twice your size to pieces, “Sorry I’m a little late.”

His mouth had moved in an attempt to form words, but the shock running through him kept them firmly in his throat. He didn’t know what to say or how to react when seeing you here. He never expected to have you come to his rescue, and honestly he wasn’t even aware that you knew how to shoot.

A happy hum had left you as you went to work untying your Mandalorian companion, removing the restraining device that had made itself home onto his wrists. Afterwards, you had helped him stand, allowing him to put his weight onto you, while he winced from the wound on his side.

“Careful now, don’t want to make that any worse than it already is.” You said, worry crossing your features at the sight of his injury.

Din looked around, still shocked by the devastation brought on by you and a single rifle, “Did...Did you do all this on your own?”

“Of course?” You said, your face morphing to that of confusion, “Now come, let’s get out of here. Your son is waiting for you back at the ship and that wound needs to be looked at.”

Helping him walk out of the building and out into the daylight, you guided him all the way back to the Razor Crest. When finally back at the ship, you had even helped him up the ramp, settling him on one of the crates in the hull before moving away to find some medical supplies.

The hatch to the child’s cot was closed—hinting that the little one was taking his evening nap—which made the Mandalorian relieved to see. He didn’t want the child to see him in this state. The child didn’t need more things like this to weigh him down at such a young age.

“Oh yeah!” You said suddenly, grabbing his attention, as you maneuvered his pulse rifle off your shoulder before holding it out for him to take, “I borrowed your pulse rifle, it's really nice! Probably one of the best I’ve ever used.”

After your comment and return of his rifle, you went back to searching through his med supplies and medpacs to find the bacta patches. While you did so, the Mandalorian gently ran his fingers over the rifle in his hands, the shock of seeing your skill with it still bouncing around in his mind. The need to ask you about your handling of the pulse rifle crawled at his throat, but he resisted speaking at first, as he wasn’t sure how to word his questions without coming off as rude.

He was honestly surprised to see the whole thing go down. He never knew that you were so handy with a gun when he had first hired you to work for him, and honestly assumed you couldn’t. At times you seemed too sweet to ever pick up a blaster of any sort, much less a full on pulse rifle. Clearly, he still had much to learn about his new partner.

“You know…” He trailed off when he finally spoke, a hint of wonder in his tone, as he looked up at you from the gun. “You never told me you could shoot.”

A smirk spread across your lips at his words, and you looked over at him with a medpac in hand, a shrug of your shoulders quickly following suit.

“You never asked.”

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Tags:

@starrywatermelon @ah-callie @readsalot73 @karnita-mexicana

#the mandalorian #mandoctober #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din #din x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #gender neutral reader #mando #mandalorian #pulse rifle #canon typical violence #mentions of violence #mentions of blood #mentions of injury #star wars fanfic #the mandalorian fanfic #not beta read

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