#but his voice called out to me to add a can of green beans | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prolix-yuy · 2 years ago

Text

If the Moon Walks Out

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: The Mandalorian's profession ushers in a harsh reality.

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: M, descriptions of injuries, blood, and medical-ish procedures, allusions to sexual acts, PiV sex, fingering (f-receiving), hurt/comfort, angst but there's some good sweetness to balance it out. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: It's been a hot minute since we've checked in with our space family! I realized after pausing updates that I left the story in somewhat of a "season finale" state, so I'm embracing it and calling this new episode the beginning of Season 2. Time to buckle up our butts and hop back in space with my favorite space dad and his green baby!

Takes place the day after Soft Fires.

Cross-posted on AO3

I Think of You Series Masterlist

The strange insistence of your circadian rhythm wakes you inside the Razor Crest. Time has a fuzzy aspect in space, but you still manage to keep your schedule as regular as possible. Like now, as sleep recedes from your eyes and you stretch with a thin groan. Your legs and arms tighten and release, pleasant tension and relaxation working through your muscles. As you shift, thighs rubbing together, a tenderness at the apex rushes last night’s actions to the forefront.

(you finally fucked the Mandalorian)

(again)

A smile breaks out on your face that, even without an audience, you hide behind your hands. Rolling over to curl on your side, you bury your face in your pillow and stifle the burst of happiness under the covers.

(you are more beautiful than Basic can convey)

(careful Mando, or I might fall in love with you)

(would that be a bad thing?)

(no it karking would NOT)

Swinging out of your cubby bed, you pad to the kitchenette to make a pot of caf. You might say there was a spring in your step, and a smile unwilling to quit on your lips. Mando doesn’t seem to be up yet, but you’re sure he’ll be along soon.

Measuring out grounds and water, your mind keeps drifting back to your time in the cockpit.

Mando’s arms, bare around you after a moment of conflict.

His words, growled through the vocoder as he pumped inside you in waves of pleasure.

Two of the best orgasms of your life.

(the others were also at his hand, that night so long ago)

“Good morning,” comes the same voice you’d just been recalling, Mando standing tall behind you with the child waking slowly. His marble eyes blink blearily, but when he sees you standing in the Food Place he reaches out to be held. You snicker at him before taking him into your arms.

“Good morning Bean,” you coo, and he yawns and gives your thumb a firm grip. It always makes your heart clench a little, that anchoring touch. “And good morning to you too, Mando,” you add, turning up to look into the featureless visor.

(well)

(what do we do now?)

After the child went to bed, you stayed with Mando in the cockpit for a few hours more. Some of it was spent talking, explanations of the next couple bounties, when you’d be touching down, where. He told you a little more about how he and the child came to be a clan of two, the darker details coming forward. You listened, commented when silence indicated Mando wanted your opinion, and absorbed their history together.

(a clan of two)

(two plus one, now, you hope)

When sleep began to pull at your eyes, Mando lifted from his seat and cupped your cheek.

“Let’s put you to bed, Mesh’la,” he murmured, to which you smiled and shooed him away.

“Would rather not see how you intend to get me down the ladder,” you joked, giving him a long look. He was as ferocious and powerful as he’d always been, but the more time you spend together, the more you find the man behind the beskar. He was amused, but also relaxed, offering comfort. You’d take it any chance you get.

“Good night, Mando,” you said, and with a new boldness you wrapped him in your embrace. His arms circled around your back quicker than you thought, and that small act made you smile into his chestplate. His hug was sharp edges and firm muscle and the gentle expansion and contraction of breath.

“Good night, Mesh’la. Sweet dreams,” he returned, and you stumbled into bed half-drunk off his embrace.

Now, in the bright light of a new day, you wonder briefly if anything will change. If Mando will allow himself your touch, or if he’ll act like last night never happened. You hope not, but if past experiences dictate future ones, dealing with Mando’s emotions is a bit like trying to climb a mud-slicked mountain. Two steps forward, one slide back. Slow going, but a journey you would happily traverse.

Mando cocks his head at you, then steps into the kitchenette.

(Maker, he takes up so much space it’s suffocating having him in this small room)

The child is fixated on a bit of bread he probably hopes is for breakfast, so he doesn’t notice his caretakers’ locked gaze, or the way Mando slides one hand to your hip and around to splay on your lower back. With a gentle pull he fits you against his body and presses his own special kiss to your forehead. Butterflies explode in your stomach.

(no more guessing no more hoping this is real)

It’s brief but meaningful, a sign that Mando won’t be ignoring your affections any longer. It makes your heart skip several beats.

“Caf’s ready,” you squeak, spinning around quickly enough that the child’s ears flop dramatically. One-handed pouring cups for you both, Mando’s gaze is hot along your shoulders, the curve of your neck. Not lustful, but possessive, like a man who has finally let himself have something decadent and has no intention of giving it up.

He takes the cup with a quiet “thanks,” stroking his free hand along your back as he exits to the cockpit. Once he’s out of earshot you let out a shaky breath, waves of excitement and arousal and tension breaking along your coast. The child looks up with curiosity, squeezing your thumb a little firmer

“Everything’s fine, Bean,” you say, a smile almost cracking your face with joy. “More than fine, actually.”

“This should be quick,” Mando says as he slings his amban rifle over his shoulder, bandolier tightening with the additional artillery. You’re perched on a seat by the table, fingers quick on your datapad as you pull up something to keep you entertained. While the planet looks lush and some trees are heavy with fruit, Mando assured that you wouldn’t want anything that thrives here.

“This region cultivates many poisonous plants. Creatures too. Stay inside with the kid.” He takes in the child’s downturned ears and runs his thumb and forefinger over the ridge of one. “Next time we’re somewhere safe you can go exploring.”

“C’mon Bean, don’t you enjoy my company?” you tease, earning the tiny-green-baby equivalent of a begrudging shrug. It would have made you laugh if you weren’t pretending to act offended.

“How could you say such a thing! When I’ve been nothing but patient with your needs!” A staticy chuckle warms your skin as you throw out one of the few hand signals you knew from the Tuskens who traded on the outskirts of Tatooine: ungrateful, a hand cupped and pulled towards your chest, then turned to the ground. Accepting water and throwing it away. The child’s bottomless eyes lock on your hands, ears perking up as you lean on the crate.

“You like that, Bean? It’s a different way of talking. I’m not very good at it,” you huff, showing him the sign again. You’d seen it during a barter once, gleaning the meaning before asking your father what they were doing. There were a scant few others you knew, most of them to do with trade, but the child’s reaction was promising.

“You know the Tusken language?” Mando asks, startling you with his hovering at your shoulder.

(every time you think you know where he is, he gives you a karking heart attack)

“Just a little, we got traders in town every now and then,” you say, straightening up in your seat. “Had an idea a few days ago that it might be a good way to communicate. Since, you know, the talking thing hasn’t been going great.”

“I can teach him,” Mando says, making you lean back to look up at the helmet.

(Maker, he looks gorgeous from any angle)

“Where’d you pick that up?” you ask, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. Mando’s hands come up to his waist and make several complicated gestures. You hold yours up in protest.

“Woah, woah, I only know a few words!” you laugh, earning a squeal of delight from the child. Mando puts a hand on his hip, cocking his head at the two of you.

“The Dune Sea is easier if you can negotiate with the locals,” he says. You nod knowingly, leaning on your elbow as Mando picks up the last few items he needs for the hunt. “Languages are useful in my line of work.”

“Please tell me you know some Wookie,” you tease, and for a second you think Mando might actually indulge you before he shakes his head.

“Maybe later, Mesh’la. I’ve got to get moving.”

Nodding curtly, you pick up the child and move over to open the back ramp for Mando. He strides to the edge, standing side by side as the ramp lowers. You’ve stood in this spot a few times before, but today feels so much lighter. The child grips your shirt and pulls himself up to your cheek, his smaller, chubbier face now level with yours. The ramp thuds to earth as Mando turns to you both.

“Be safe,” you say, almost a force of habit by now. The child trills in response. You didn’t expect much from Mando, his leaving normally not accompanied by a farewell. A nod in your direction and a heavy saunter were your usual signals of departure. But like you felt before, the mood is different today. Instead, he tucks his forefinger under the child’s chin and strokes the roundness of his cheek. It makes him squinch up his eyes, but you swear you can see a smile on his wrinkled face.

“Stay out of trouble,” he says to the child, then turns his attention to you.

Heart thumping in your chest, you briefly imagine another Keldabe kiss. The few times he’s indulged you’d cherished, but never imagined it could become a habit. Now with him about to depart, you wonder what your goodbye could look like.

(would he want you to kiss him?)

Your answer comes in the form of his knuckle tucking under your chin, the soft leather of his glove swiping below the crest of your lower lip. He strokes a path to the back of your neck, cradling the base of your head in his expansive hand.

“You too,” he tries to say lightly, but there’s a thickness in his voice that explodes in your stomach. “You can be just as bad as him sometimes.” You snort at his teasing.

“Well, you’re the worst of us all,” you quip back, but lean into his touch. It takes him another moment before he lets go.

(yours your yours Mando)

With a curt nod he descents the ramp, shoulders and hips swaying a little more than normal. It blooms excitement in your chest.

Another day. Another bounty. Possibly another night of his touch ahead of you. The galaxy felt like a kinder place.

The hours tick by, not too dully at least. You started the day cleaning the hold, gathering yours and Mando’s clothing for a wash. It was slow going in the small ‘fresher sink, but you had time to spare and the child didn’t mind being entertained by stories and splashes. Grime and sometimes worrying rust-colored water washed down the sink as you moved the sopping cloth into the shower to dry.

“You know Bean, I think we need to convince your dad to invest in a few household appliances,” you hum thoughtfully, a reassuring trill answering. “Besides the sub-par cooking supplies, a wash system would be amazing.” The child burbles on your hip as you bounce back into the hold, going down your mental list of tasks you wanted to complete.

(clothing clean, supplies checked)

(need a shower, maybe a shave)

(you know, just in case)

Smiling to yourself, you start gathering your toiletries. The child never seemed to mind being cooped up in the 'fresher with you, though some days you do wonder how much of a child he really is. Hopefully the fogged-up transparisteel of the shower door is enough to protect his innocence.

(then again, leaving him to roam has not gone well)

You’re about to head into the ship when the comm in the cockpit pings. Climbing up to investigate, it only relays the distance Mando is from the Crest.

(unusual, he normally calls)

Fear prickles in your belly, but you try to shake it off in favor of pragmatism. The bounty could be rowdy, or heavy, and Mando may not be able to reach the vocal transmission controls. Descending, you open the back hatch and wait at the top of the ramp for his shape to gleam on the horizon.

It doesn’t take long, the beskar a beacon for the sunset to dance off. You watch his approach with the child in your elbow, shading your eyes against the glare. He’s trudging along, bounty slumped over his shoulder but seemingly conscious. It’s slow though, slower than you’re used to seeing Mando. As the distance closes, your heart spikes into panic.

(he’s limping)

It shouldn’t come as a shock to you that Mando could get injured on the job. The most dangerous moment of your life, trapped in the Lively Bantha as blaster bolts rang out around you, is a blip on his radar. From the stories you’d heard and the pieces you’d put together, you’re sure the map of Mando’s body is patterned in injuries.

This, however, is different. You’re here, and you’re terrified.

“Stay here Bean, I mean it,” you say sternly, placing the child on a crate in the hold. He makes a concerned “patu?” noise, which you try to soothe with a hand on his back.

“I’m not sure, I hope he’s okay. Stay here. Promise me,” you say, and for some hysterical reason you put out your pinky as if he’d even understand what that meant. He doesn’t have enough dexterity to wrap his littlest claw with yours, but he does grip it briefly before you rush back.

Mando and the barely conscious bounty, human by the looks of it, are approaching the base of the ramp. You barrel down it, coming to a stop in front of them both.

“Get back in the…” Mando tries to say, but a sharp inhale cuts him off before he can rebuke you further. Wordlessly, you slide under his free arm and give him a steadying push. Stepping in tandem, the three of you make it to the top of the ramp, and as if on autopilot Mando shoves the half-aware human into the carbonite chamber, slapping the button to initiate. The hiss of gas dissipates behind you as you pull Mando further into the hold.

“Kriff, Mando, what happened?” you pant, the stress of shouldering someone that much bulkier than you quickening your breath. Mando groans quietly, soft little pants coming through the vocoder as you sit him beside the child.

“Bounty was fine. Had a run-in with…something. Got bit.” Mando grits out, leaning heavily on his elbow to keep from toppling over.

(on a planet that houses the most poisonous species)

(oh Maker)

“Where?” you breathe, hands already starting to shake. Infection is bad, poison is worse, venom is…you can’t even fathom. He pats his outer thigh, another wince and a groan following.

“It was…a reptile. Fast. Red…I think.” Mando’s voice is starting to weaken, and terror seizes your body like a iron cage. The child is trilling at Mando, scrambling onto the table to be closer to his protector.

(no no no what the kriff are you supposed to do this cannot be happening Mando cannot be NO stupid girl don’t even think that he’s okay it’s going to be okay kriff what do you do?)

All at once the tension, the fear and the terror are doused in cool logic. Your father was the one who taught you to protect yourself, but your mother had teachings of her own. Adept in medicine, problem-solving and crisis, her voice now steels your spine.

(Daughter of mine, the first thing you must do is assess the damage)

Dropping to your knees, you inspect the spot on Mando’s thigh where he indicated the bite. Nothing looks the matter at first glance, but investigating closer reveals two ragged holes in the fabric of his flight suit, dark blood sticking it to his skin.

(Fangs most likely mean venom)

Heart thrumming, you work your finger into the hole and tense to rip it.

(sorry Mando, the Creed will have to take another small hit to keep you alive)

The taut tan flesh underneath quivers when you press near the wounds, hot and hard to to the touch. The pressure elicits a rough choking noise from Mando. It makes your skin prickle, but you surround the wound with your hands and squeeze.

Thick clotting blood oozes out, along with yellow ichor and something deep and dark.

(Venom, daughter. Bacta won’t be enough)

You squeeze again to be sure, making Mando’s fist come down hard on the table. A string of curse words in a language you don’t understand bursts through static, the child coming up to press his three-fingered hands on Mando’s vambrace. He chuckles, somehow, in the midst of all this.

“Don’t, kid, I’ve had worse,” he scolds the child.

“Stay with me Mando,” you shoot back, twisting around to retrieve your datapad. “How big was it?” Mando shakes his head, forcing focus.

“Four feet long, reptile, low to the ground, yellow eyes,” he spouts off as you type furiously. Turning the datapad to Mando, you press his thigh just a bit to snap his head to the image.

“Yeah, I think…kriff, looks like it,” he groans, doubling over. The child is louder now, squeaking and struggling against Mando’s hand holding him back.

“Breathe,” you direct, watching him try to take less shallow gasps. “Okay, venomous but not deadly. Painful, for sure. Antidote is…” Your fingers fly through the information, a strangely frilled leaf coming into view.

(You’ve seen that before, daughter)

“Thanks the karking Stars,” you shout, scrambling to your feet and tossing, “Stay there!” over your shoulder as you gallop down the ramp. Taking off at a sprint, you round the front of the Crest to find a wall of the same leaves, hanging so low they brush along its steel haunches. You had admired them through the transparisteel earlier in the day, wondering if they stayed that green their entire lives. They’re not quite in reach, but a few carefully judged steps up the landing gear and a lucky snatch has three of the dinner plate-sized leaves clutched in your hands.

(Hurry, dear girl)

Lungs and legs burning, you clamber up and into the hold again, skidding to a stop on your knees that will surely leave bruises.

“Macerate into paste…needs…what the kark is ‘subtle acid’?” you pant, tearing the leaves into smaller pieces.

(Chew)

Without a further thought you stuff the leaves into your mouth, chewing vigorously. The flavor is instant, strongly vegetal, bitter, but you let saliva pool in your mouth.

“Mesh’la…” Mando groans, followed by an anxious coo. Looking up, your clan of two are regarding you, on your knees with cheeks full of awful tasting leaves. Drool is dripping down your chin - there is some numbing chemical in the greenery, you’re losing feeling in your lips - and you’re sure you look a mess, but Mando still cups the side of your face. You shake your head, digging wads of the leaf paste out and into your palm.

“Save whatever you have to say for after I get this in you,” you scold, your voice only shaking a little as you pour water over the open wounds to clean them. The trickle of blood is weak, but the swelling and angry color does not bode well. Unceremoniously, you jam the paste into the wounds, ignoring Mando’s groans as you press and rub and work the paste in.

“Dank farrik, Mesh’la, I think it’s in there,” Mando squeezes out, fist clenching on the crate.

“When you’re not in danger I’ll listen to you,” you shoot back, and are rewarded with a dark chuckle.

(he can laugh, that’s a good sign)

Once the wounds are stuffed and slathered to bursting, you spit the rest of the bitter paste into a bowl, licking around your gums to dislodge any remaining bits. Your lips feel heavy and thick, tongue tingling and half numb. It’s hard to tell if you’re still drooling, but a few swipes along your face reassures you. The paste looks to be working, the deep green darkening to black and oozing out of the wound. You repack it two more times, much to Mando’s displeasure, but the angry redness is dissipating and the flesh is no longer hot. Throughout the process the child grips Mando’s vambrace, eyes locked on his visor as he makes tiny concerned coos. Mando murmurs to him, reassurances you remember from your own mother.

(All will be well soon, daughter. You did a fine job. I’m proud of you)

(miss you, mom)

An hour passes like this, few words actually spoken under your careful watch. When the final wad of salve oozes free without deadly black poison following you know the wound is drained. Next comes fresh water, a cloth gently washing away the mess from Mando’s thigh, and a bacta patch to close the wounds. You debated on stitches but the punctures looked small enough, clean enough, to take bacta well.

Sitting in a crumpled heap on the floor, you finally allow the adrenaline to seep from your limbs. Every muscle shrieks, your knees hot and aching, hands chafed raw. Amongst it all, you watch Mando carefully. He stands, testing the weight on his leg. He’ll carry a slight limp for a day, but you can tell the pain is manageable for him.

(he’s been through worse with less help)

The child chirps from the crate table, urging you to your feet. When you lift him he goes willingly, but holds his arms out to Mando with a whine. You smirk, but hand him over to his guardian.

“Hey kid,” he rumbles, propping the child on one arm to look at his concerned face. “You should be nicer to her, she took very good care of me.” Wrinkling your nose, you barely find the energy to huff a laugh at the gentle scold. The child looks back at you, ears downturned and reaching back one hand. His other is firmly wrapped around Mando’s thumb.

“Thankless job, saving your life,” you warble, more emotional than the joke you meant it to be. Mando meets you in the middle of your step, wrapping his free arm around your back and pulling you into his side. Tucking your head into his shoulder, he squeezes you tightly. The child grabs for your hand and you offer your thumb, but he takes your pinky in his tiny grip instead.

(good memory Bean)

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” Mando murmurs above your head, the beskar pressing against your temple. It grounds you enough for a shaky breath.

“I forget this is your life,” you admit, fisting your hand into his cape as your clan of two holds you in such different ways.

Mando hums, stroking his hand up and down your back with long, slow passes. You press into his shoulder, fighting back the tears that threaten to fall now the work is done. “Are you okay, Mesh’la?”

“I’ll be fine, just…need to breathe,” you answer, and Mando lets you do that, just breathe in the tiny circle of the people you care most for in the galaxy.

(main thrusters, backup thrusters, directional…kriff, it looks the same as…oh okay, that’s the comms, and that’s the landing gear sequence…now where’s the…)

“Mesh’la?”

Mando’s voice startles you out of your deep concentration, once again cursing how quietly he can move around the ship.

“Hi, yes, sorry, do you need…sorry, I’ll…” you stammer, gathering the tattered manuals strewn across your lap as you shuffle out of the pilot’s seat. Through the heat of your embarrassment you catch Mando tilting his head at your clumsy shuffle, the armful of pages plopping down on the jump seat as you smile too brightly at him.

(why do you feel like you’ve been caught watching dirty holos? You were just sitting in the pilot’s seat)

(his seat)

Mando’s ankles are crossed one over the other, arms similarly folded against his chest. The dark T visor is trained on you, his observation making your hands restless.

“What are you reading?” he asks, nodding down at the manuals. You straighten, starkly self-conscious now that you’ve been caught in the act.

(will he think you a fool?)

“Well, after today, I just…I realized that I don’t know much about the Crest.” You swallow hard, the image of Mando’s body going limp in the hold pressing behind your eyes, “The biggest thing I’ve ever driven was a speeder but I found all of these manuals.” The top one is open to the page on the console buttons, and you scoop it back up to distract from Mando’s attention.

“This seemed like a good place to start,” you say cheerily, coming to stand in front of the console with its dimmed lights. “Power up sequence is…” you start, finding the tiny writing that details each step. Miming the button presses and level flicks, you count out the procedure.

“One, two, up, up, lift-case-press-once…” Turning your head to the switches above you, Mando’s silhouette is no longer in the doorway but standing behind the pilot seat, one hand resting on the back. His closeness tightens your posture, cheery smile on your face feeling more like a grimace.

“Four switches here, all in a row…” you murmur, reaching up to tap them in sequence. When you do, the cool air of the cockpit breezes against a sliver of skin on your stomach. It’s contrasted immediately with the heat of Mando’s gaze on it.

(no distractions, you have to learn)

“Then we’re on to takeoff procedures, so we’ll engage…” You’re interrupted with the warm weight of Mando’s hand circling your bicep.

“What’s this about?” he murmurs, but you pull free from his barely-there grasp with a tut.

“You’re going to make me lose my place,” you scold, taking a step out of his reach to lean over the console, but your hand shakes as you rest it on the thruster. “Thrusters to…thrusters…to…”

(Mando lying dead in a forest you could never reach)

(dead on a prison ship parsecs away)

(dead on a planet you don’t know the name of)

(dead dead dead dead)

His hands touch you with purpose now, shifting you to stand beside the pilot’s seat as he settles into it. Your grip on the manual is white-knuckled, your teeth clenched as you try to say anything, explain yourself, but Mando pays you no mind as he spreads his hands along the console.

“The manuals are a start, but the Crest has had better days,” he says, a dry smile in his tone. Your muscles begin to loosen, eyes locked on the Mandalorian as he speaks slow and carefully, his hands moving with purpose.

“Only one back thruster has an ignition spark, so you have to ignite the live one and use the exhaust manifold to light the other,” he says, walking you through each revised step of the Crest’s takeoff procedure. He pauses when he hears you furiously scratching notes, and goes over parts of it again when your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Once you’re out of the atmosphere there are a few steps to prepare for hyperspace, especially without an astromech…” Your lungs freeze at the thought.

(how the kriff are you going to compute hyperspace travel without a droid?)

(kriffing Mando and his Maker-damned brain)

(it’s one of the sexiest things about him)

“...but if you give me a few days I’ll write out the calculations for you,” he finishes, and the relief paired with the wave of arousal at how easy he makes it sound is a dizzying combination.

“Thank you,” you breathe, putting down the manual and wiping your sweaty palms on your pants. “Where’s Bean?” you ask, the little bogwing nowhere in sight.

“I gave him some jerky, he’s probably still working at it,” Mando replies, and finally a light chuckle bubbles from your lips.

(two baby teeth and a strip of jerky, you’ll have to save Bean from the torture)

“I’ll go check on him,” you say, turning to leave but Mando’s hand wraps around your wrist with a gentle tug.

(guess you’ll have to explain yourself now)

He guides you back to stand between his knees, thumbs stroking the backs of your hands.

“Would you tell me what you’re thinking?” he asks, and you’re struck by how often Mando surprises you. You expected an accusation, an interrogation, and then he only asks you to help him understand.

(Maker you can barely comprehend the care he offers you)

(is this what it’s like for him?)

“When you were…” You pause, trying to get more moisture in your mouth. Mando waits, helmet turned up to you in patient silence.

“When I thought you were dying, I realized I wouldn’t know what to do if you did. I - we rely on you so much. To pilot the Crest, to earn credits, to keep us safe, and if you were gone…” The words can’t come up for air, the devastation of that dread scorching your tongue.

“...I thought if I just read these and figured out the basics it would mean I could at least get us to safety. If you were in trouble I could find you. If it was just…Bean and I…I could still complete your mission…”

(Kark the mission)

(if Mando was gone, you’d be all that Bean had)

“Nothing will happen to me, Mesh’la,” Mando says, gentle assurance on the outskirts of that modulated voice. It makes you ball your hands into fists, gritting your teeth when you meet the visor’s stare.

“You don’t know that. You leave every time to risk your life and there’s no telling which time you’ll walk out and never come back.” Saying those fears out loud tightens your throat, the corners of your mouth pulling into a grimace as you fight against tears.

“I won’t allow that to happen,” Mando says more forcefully, his grip grounding. This close you can almost believe him. He’s impenetrable to most - beskar, strength, cunning, speed - but today only fattened up your fears.

(you’ll be alone)

“I can’t live like that, Mando, relying on you to not get bit, or shot, or killed. I can’t sit by and pretend you’ll always come back. I need to know how to fly, where to keep searching for the Jedi, how to find you if you’re lost or taken. I can’t just live on this ship until one day you’re gone.”

At the crack in your voice Mando surrounds you, pulling you down into his lap and letting you sob into the cool beskar. One hand cradles the back of your neck, his arm wrapped around your back to sink you deeper into him. The scent of dirt and warm fabric and blood envelops you, comforting as it is terrifying.

(you could have lost him today)

“I’m sorry, Mesh’la, I know,” Mando soothes, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles behind your ear. “This was a bad one. I have you to thank for stopping it from being far worse.” Mando pulls away enough to cup your chin in his soft gloved hand. “I will do everything in my power to stay safe…” He sighs, the truth on his lips. “...but you’re right. I may not come back one day.”

He lets the acknowledgement sit in the air for a few moments while you search the helmet for something more. Sadness? Fear? Worry? Or are those all just your own emotions reflected back in the brilliant shine?

“So I’ll teach you. How to fly the Crest, my contacts, my plans, all of it.” The resolute tone of his voice smooths your face, leaning into his touch as the thrumming anxiety beneath your skin lowers to a simmer. “We’ll have backups, boltholes, everything you need in case of an emergency.”

The shuddering breath you take is met with a quiet, “That’s it, Mesh’la,” as your heart rate begins to drop. A few moments more and you find your fortitude, his arms resting in an easy circle around your waist.

“I’ll keep you safe,” Mando promises, wiping away a streak of tears from your cheek. The leather is soft on your skin, the touch reverent.

“I know, Mando,” you hiccup, nose stuffed and head pounding from the ache of emotion bouncing inside it. You must be a sorry sight, but Mando only caresses your face and holds you close.

(you don’t dare think this could me more than care right now)

(your heart couldn’t take it)

“Didn’t know you had medical training,” he says, his thigh shifting making you hiss out a “sorry” as you adjust your weight off his injured leg.

“My mother taught me well,” you reply, eliciting a nod from Mando. “Didn’t know the Crest was such a complicated ship.” A pause. “I like watching you pilot her.”

“Is that so?” Mando purrs, and that sneaky arousal from before aches quietly between your legs as Mando’s hand slips from your cheek to slide along your collarbone.

“You’re good with your hands,” you gasp, your own coming to his forearm to tighten on the vambrace.

“I know,” he replies cockily, fingers sliding back up to brush his thumb over your lower lip.

A small curious trill echoes up the ladder, pulling his hands away from you with a sigh. You would laugh but it’s probably for the best. Your nerves are live wires, raw emotions still just barely simmering under the surface.

“Sounds like Bean’s given up on the jerky. Coming down?” you ask, standing and wiping your face more thoroughly with your shirt sleeve.

(no point in scaring the kid)

(you’ll be okay)

“Wait…” Mando says, bringing you back into the bracket of his thighs again. “Tonight, after the kid goes to sleep, meet me in the ‘fresher,” he says, one wandering hand dragging slowly up your hip. “I’ve been thinking about what I’d like to do if we were back there again.”

Heat erupts across your face, molten hot down your spine and puddling in your core.

“Kriff, Mando, don’t know how I’m going to last until then when you talk like that,” you groan, thighs rubbing together as he tilts the helmet at you.

“Better hope he tires out quickly,” he teases.

Bean does not go down early, but you use the time to dote on him further. He relishes in the long dinner, the extra-detailed story you weave about a Bantha family in the desert, the indulgent snuggle under your chin as you soothe him to sleep.

(maybe your heart needed just a little more comfort)

(or maybe you just love him more than you let yourself admit)

Either way, when you settle him into his hammock, blue blanket tucked around his tiny body, you thank the Maker that he’s trusted you with such a precious, weird, perfect little creature.

And then later, when you enter the ‘fresher and Mando’s hands land hot and bare on you, you thank the Maker again for sparing Mando as he takes you apart pressed against the cool tiled wall, mouth buried in his thick bicep as his skilled fingers drag your orgasm to new shattering heights.

Balanced on the edge of the sink, Mando’s helmet tucked over your shoulder as he pumps into you with long slow thrusts, you whisper all of the words you couldn’t say in the cockpit.

“Thank you for coming back to me.”

“Feels so good Mando, you feel so good inside me.”

“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”

Mando’s voice drags roughly over your skin, rumbling into your ear.

“I’m here, Mesh’la.”

“I’ve got you.”

“I’ll keep you safe.”

And you believe him.

END

“a flower knows, when its butterfly will return, and if the moon walks out, the sky will understand; but now it hurts, to watch you leave so soon, when I don't know, if you will ever come back.”

― Sanober Khan

Episode 10 of the I Think of You Series

The story continues in Episode 11: Rising Phoenix

#din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #mandalorian x you #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x you #mando x you #mando x reader #mando fanfiction #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x reader #i think of you series #prolix fics

216 notes · View notes

silent-raven13 · 7 months ago

Text

Lil Billie don't play!

The Spider-Gang were baking at Miles' apartment, little Billie helping her big brother make cookies. The gang decided to show off their baking skills to show off their favorite treats. Billie wanted chocolate chips cookies, so Miles is making his own version of Chocolate Chunks Chip Cookies.

The gang and Ganke were all chatting having drinks and snacks while baking. Gwen and Hobie were talking about favorite indie band from Hobie's world, and Pavtri and Ganke were talking about funny things their own family done as growing up in an Asian household. Miles listening by the side while he smiles at his little sister who's adding the sugar into the bowl.

"Oh yeah! My Chachi always found ways for me to do extracurricular activities like cricket!" Pavtri said.

"Yeah, my mom wanted me to lean the violin and I always hated learning the violin." Ganke said.

Hobie laughing along with Gwen, "Really, you think his hair look like mustard?"

"Yeah, terrible color and his outfit was so red it was giving Mustard and Ketchup." Gwen laughs along, "But I like that one band called Misery. That opening song was fire."

"Yeah, that group is really good. The singer always getting arrested. Gotta respect her."

"Yeah, she's so cool." The blond young woman agreed as she put green J-ello in a bowl with some toasted pecans.

Pavtri kneading the mixture in a pink bowl making Gulab Jamun, while chatting with Ganke. "Huh, yeah. I never liked Cricket. I told her I rather do something like Yoga, or Kalaripayattu."

"I always liked playing basketball but my mom thought it was to violent." Ganke sips his White Claw. Billie leans over to smile at Ganke, "Hey, Boo."

The five year old happily helps her big brother add the chocolate chunks into the batch of cookies. "Hi-hi, Key!" Little Billie giggles as her brother helps her pours brown sugar into the bowl. "Yum?"

Ganke went over to sniff, "Mmm, yummy!"

Miles let him have a taste of the cookie dough, "Good?" His best friend took an extra spoon filled with cookie dough to try, he chews it for the moment then his eyes gleam with joy.

"Mmm, yo this is fire. Did you use vanilla bean paste? And the chunks are good?" He said licking his lips.

"Hahaha, the secret is a mix of milk chocolate and a lot of dark chocolate." Miles smiles widely at his best friend.

"You would add a lot of dark chocolate." Gwen hums, which got Hobie to smile from ear to ear.

"OPP!" Pavtri giggles.

"Duh, I do love dark chocolate." Miles playfully wink at his boyfriend who turned pinked by the flirtation.

Hobie chuckles as he mix his Sweet Potato into pudding in his own mixing bowl. "I know you do, Sunflower." He lick his lips can't wait for later when it's Billie's nap time, so he can have a full make out session.

The four year girl eyeing at Hobie with a squint in her eyes, she will put a stop to any of his devious thoughts. Her big brother is a sweet and she wants all of his attention.

Miles let his little sister stir the batter while he helps her, "That's right, boo-boo. Good job."

"I'm helping!" She happily said with her high pitch voice, she did a little dance.

"Yeah, you're amazing at this, Billie-boo!" Miles cooes at her as they saw the dough and chocolate chips are perfectly mixed. "Oh, now we can make them cookies, boo-boo."

"Oh yay!" She can't wait for these cookies, "Umm.. Umm.." Her head turns back and forth with her finger on chin, and her braided hair with butterfly clips at the ends made clinks sounds. "Remem-bur daddy wants some cookies."

"Oh, I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me, Boo!" Miles smiles at his little sister for being such a big helper. "You're always my best helper!"

"Hehe, I am!" She proudly puff her chest being pleased for getting praised by her big brother.

Pavtri smiles at Miles, "Awe, Billie. You're so adorable."

Miles look at Gwen's bowl, "Um, Gwen. What is that? It's so green, and you're using cottage cheese?" His eyes widen at the tub of cottage cheese.

"Yeah, this is Watergate Salad with a twist. My mom use to make this for my dad then he would make it for us on Christmas." Gwen open the cottage cheese to dump into the bowl with the green J-ello, legumes and marshmallows. "It's good! Trust me!"

Pavtri and Hobie share the same look of concern, yet they are willing to try for their friend. They knew how much Gwen tries to cook for them and put so much effort even if some meals are questionable.

"Okay..." Miles tries to force an excited tone but had a a straight face.

"What? It's not gross. Look I'ma add the Cool Whip!" Gwen open a big tub of Cool Whip, "And this is super easy to make! I don't need to bake or use the stove. All I need to do is add it into the fridge once I'm done!"

Miles got a tray with parchment paper on it, while Billie happily hold the bowl. She saw the ice cream scoop being covered in butter to scoop the thick dough. "Ohh! I wanna do it, hermano!" She holds her hand out having her fingers reaching out.

"Wait, let me show you first, okay?"

"Okay." Being perfectly behaved, the four year old had her hands together as she watches her brother showing her how to scoop cookie dough on the tray. Miles slowly show her then place the dough on the tray seeing how Billie nodded. She's such a well behave girl.

Without out the Black Latino knowing, he felt cold cream on his cheek. "BAM! Gotchu!" Gwen giggles having to put cool whip on her friend's cheek, "Your too slow!" Miles took the hit without feeling bothered, since this is how they play around.

But for Billie, she did not like that. She took it as bullying on her big brother, and seeing how hard Gwen put that whip cream on his face got her feeling some type a way. She stood quiet as she saw her brother left the cool whip on his cheek being focus into teaching her to make scoops of cookie dough.

Every now and then the four year old would give Gwen the side eye, this was a declaration of war. Hobie stood quiet, too. He didn't like how Gwen sometimes plays too rough or too much with his Sunflower, and he knows Miles wouldn't mind. Yet, the punker never like rough play something about seeing his boyfriend getting hurt gets him enrage.

"Awe, you upset lil Boo." Ganke said out loud noticing the little girl quiet giving that serious Mr. Morales look. Crazy how much of resemblance she had on her dad. The way Miles look a lot like his mom.

Miles chuckles as he wipes off the cream off his cheek with a wet rag, "Awe, boo-boo. It's okay. Me and Gwen were playing." He wasn't one to play as much as Gwen.

Billies said nothing but side eye at Gwen again, she had her lips puckered with a serious look on her face. Hobie burst out laughing seeing her pissed off as him. Pavtri teased, "Ohhh, Gwen. You made her mad-mad."

"What? What did I do?" Gwen laughs it off, she knows Billie is protective of her brother. No one would expect what's gonna happen.

When everyone finished making their dessert leaving them to take a break. Gwen lay on the L shape part of the couch while texting her other friends and being on her Socials.

Hobie talking to Miles in the kitchen being a bit close with his hands apart holding the counter, sounding a bit flirty. The Black latino chuckles with his arms wrapping around his punker as the two kiss.

Ganke and Pavtri playing video games and talking about the lore of the game. Little Billie was by her dolls and small table for coloring, she saw her chance to get pay back. The four year old sneaky crouch toward Gwen's without being noticed from the two men play video games, her brown eyes saw some blond and colorful dye hair.

Billie took her chance to get pay back for her big brother, she grab a fistful of Gwen's hair and yanking it. "OW! Ahh, Billie!" Gwen felt a sharp yank on her head, her blue eyes saw Billie grabbing her hair.

"AH! NO!" Billie huffs, she jumps back seeing her brother's friend trying to get her to let go. The rest of her friends noticed.

Miles quickly turns to find his little sister yanking his best friend's hair. "Boo-Boo?"

"Ow, Billie!" Gwen got up seeing that was one way for the little girl to let go, yet it didn't stop Billie from throwing hands. The little girl's tiny fist hitting the blond woman's thigh and legs, then she climbs on her to fight. "What's with you?" Those punches didn't hurt Gwen, in fact it felt like pats and it made her laugh a bit.

Pavtri laughs, "She's picking a fight with you? What did you do to her?"

"NOTHING!" She said out loud being in shock that her friend put the blame on her. Gwen grab the little girl having to pull her away from her, Billie kept throwing her punches on her hands.

"No-no! MMM!" Billie whines having to use all her energy to fight Gwen.

"I dunno she seems pretty mad." Ganke winced at the little girl.

Miles quickly went over to get his little sister, "Boo! Billie Mariana Morales! What's gotten into you? Oye, escúchame, niña!" Using a firm voice while speaking Spanish, sometimes his little sister understands Spanish more than English. He hugs her trying to calm her down seeing how she's furious she is.

"Ella te golpeó, hermano!" Billie struggles from her brother's hands still wanting to fight, "Venganza!!!" She throw her fist in the air.

"What did she say?" Pavtri asked.

Gwen fixing her hair putting into a messy bun, "Yeah!"

"She said revenge, and she thinks you hit me with the whip cream." Miles couldn't help but let out a snicker, seeing how cute his little sister is willing to protect him.

"Ohhh! Opp, so she wanted payback?" Gwen asked with her hand on her hips, "But I didn't hit you."

Billie huffs, "Hmph! No toques a mi hermano!" Her hands cupping her brother's face being protective then crossing her arms, "Nonono!"

Pavtri rub his chin, "I guess if it was innocent or not, she doesn't like it."

"Well, Billie never like anyone picking on Miles, so this shouldn't be a surprise." Ganke pointed out.

Hobie stood quiet through the whole thing, he went to stand next to his Sunflower. "Still... Billie, don't pull Gwen's hair. She means no harm, and no fighting or I have to tell mamí you were misbehaving." Miles lecture his little sister.'

"Pero... Pero..." Billie sniffs with big tears forming already sad for upsetting her brother. She did what she thought was fair.

"Ehh, let her off of this one. I get it. She loves you too much." Gwen shrugs it off, "Besides it didn't hurt me."

"Still... she needs to know it's not right." Miles hugs his sister, "Billie Boo, it's okay. Don't cry. I know you're a good girl." Wiping her tears away with his right hand.

Billie sniffs feeling bum out, her brown eyes landed on Hobie who gave her a sincere smile. "You git me?" She asked the punker.

"Yes, luv." Seeing how Billie wanted him to hold her, the punker took her in his arms and gave a solitary smile. "You did an excellent job, lil Boo."

"Hobie!" Miles pouted but seeing Billie sad face turning super happy made him slide it off. Little Billie proudly nodded at Hobie.

"Yeah! She hu-wt Miles!"

"I know." Hobie gave her thumb ups, "Good job for getting yer lick back!"

"YEAH!" Billie said in a loud cheer tone.

Gwen snorted, "It was like a pinch."

"Shh, Gwen! Little Billie don't play." Pavtri said out loud.

Ganke nodded, "Yeah, now you want her to pull your hair again?"

"No..." The blond woman answered.

Miles began scolding his boyfriend for allow Billie to be okay with this behavior. Everyone knows to never mess with Miles if his sister is around. Who knows what she'll do? Hobie and Billie had a close friendship whenever it comes to Miles, they have the need to protect him. They never understood why.

The little girl happily learns a few moves from Hobie, she can't wait to try it on any enemy near her brother.

#punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #across the spider verse

15 notes · View notes

1starqi · 6 months ago

Text

Gochujang

(Part 1: Not That Bad) (Part 2: Looking At You) (Part 4: Two To Four)

genre: pure tooth-rotting fluff, college au but it doesn't matter

pairing: bassist!soobin x student!fem reader (referred to as "Ms" once)

warning: mentions of food

word count: 1.2k

(Chapter List)

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

▸ Now Playing: Our Summer - Acoustic Remix

You’re rudely stirred awake by Soobin’s voice in your doorway. You check the clock, how��dare he wake you at the early hour of 3:38 pm?

He calls out to you, “Hey, Ms. Midday Nap.”

“Choi Soobin, I will chase you out of this room.” You challenge him without opening your eyes. You succumbed to midday nap syndrome again, and he knows he will get kicked if he annoys you too much.

“That’s such a shame. I was just about to order noodles. I guess I’ll leave.” He taunts you, feigning innocence. You sit up, and mindlessly reach for your glasses on the side table.

“Ya, Choi Soobin. Get back here!” You complain, too tired to actually chase him. You hear your stomach grumble since you haven’t eaten since the morning. Knowing you only have so long to order noodles, you are forced to rise from your comfy bed. You put on your flowery slippers and walk out of the room rubbing your eyes.

“I think I’ll get noodles with… spicy pork and… there are so many options. This is really amazing.” He says, half out of genuine amazement at the take-out menu, and half to lure you out of your lair. Once he notices your entrance, he calls out to you. “Hey, sleepy. I was just looking at this wonderful menu.”

“Get me noodles with radish, bean sprouts, scallions, and the little brown seeds.” You order him, still processing waking up. “I had weird dreams.” You irrelevantly tell him.

“No meat? Weirdo.” He mutters as he adds your meal to the cart. He knows you well enough that ‘little brown seeds’ means roasted sesame seeds. “I’m adding gochujang to mine.”

“Shut up.” You tell him and lazily kick his shaking leg as you walk up behind him. “Why do you always pick spicy food if you always suffer?” You ask him and fail to earn a response.

“Because I like it.” He retorts. You’ve seen him be willing to always eat spicy food, but then he always turns bright pink and ends up chugging the nearest beverage.

“We'll you're bad at eating it.”

“You’re projecting.” He tells you, when, really, your spice tolerance is likely higher than his. “I will put gochujang on your order.” He threatens.

“Like hell, you will. I will drink all of the water in this house before you start eating and you’ll be left to suffer.” You retorted and he sucks in air through his teeth before abandoning his battle. He presses the green order button after adding two banana milks to your order, the estimated time of delivery is 30 minutes. “Do you want to watch a show in the meantime?” You propose another option to do nothing for thirty minutes. It’s not like you could get into the zone to work at that time, and you sense that it’s not the right time for a jam.

“Which show?” He asks, reclaiming his calm demeanor.

“I don’t know, we can browse.” You shrug before a notion pops into your head. “We should watch some bad reality TV.” He agreed with a nod of his head and a smile that only reached half of his face.

“I’ll grab the blankets.” He affirms.

The noodles arrived in less than thirty minutes—twenty, actually. You two were on opposite sides of the couch watching a show that featured chefs given random ingredients—it wasn’t half bad, actually. Your only regret is that it was a cooking show, which only made you hungrier.

The doorbell rings and Soobin goes to get the food in its brown paper bag and brings it in. You hear him close the door behind you and plant your feet on the ground to go and help him when he interrupts you.

“No, no. Stay there, I know you like the show. I’ll bring the food over.” He tells you and picks out the bowls of noodles from the box with a long arm. As soon as he opens the bag, you catch a whiff of the strong-smelling dishes. He brings you yours as well as his noodles, which are topped with spicy beef, gochujang, and myriad yet indistinguishable vegetables. You happily oblige to stay put.

“Thanks, Soob.” You thank him and grab your utensils to start devouring the delicious meal in front of the TV. As the people on screen start feuding, you look over to Soobin who is already struggling. His neck is pink from the spice and you can tell he’s trying to hold it together. “Get some banana milk, you idiot.” You comment through a snicker and he gives you a stare from the side of his eye.

“I’m—” He coughs, “I’m fine.” He tells you and you both know he’s lying. You hold his gaze for a couple seconds longer before he reaches for the milk in its jar-shaped container and you nod at him, silently telling him ‘I told you so’.

After a couple minutes, you slurp up your final noodle, you lean back.

“This bowl is way bigger than it looks.” You complain. It might be your final noodle but it is not the bowl’s final noodle, you have maybe a quarter left.

“I know,” Soobin says in clear admiration of the restaurant as he’s almost done with his. He lets out another spice-induced cough.

“You drank your milk and mine and had two glasses of water. Are we sure that’s a good thing?” You prod, trying to excite a reaction out of him, but he just coughs again. You roll your eyes playfully at the boy, desperately trying to prove he’s fine through hacks. His neck and ears are turning a brighter shade of red than you’ve seen in your month of living with him, so you guess it’s not that impressive. “I’m going to brush my teeth.” You announce and get up off of the cough, intending to clean up your bowl after you don’t have scallion stuck in your teeth that you’re sure is not very attractive.

“‘Kay.” He manages to get out during his attempt at composure. You shed his fluffy blue blanket and walk down the hall to get the equally blue toothbrush that he bought for you after you—somehow—broke half the bristles off of your old one.

You pick up the plastic brush and use the mint toothpaste that makes your mouth burn that you’ve started using since your old one ran out.

You move the brush first left, then right, then scrub the top and then bottom. This is also something you’ve seen Soobin do.

Only then does it strike you how many bits of Soobin you’ve adopted since he’s moved in? His habits, his blankets, his toothpaste, even. Maybe you’re just suspiciously susceptible to the influence of those around you, but you’ve noticed it with him too. You didn’t notice it at the time, but when he went to get blankets for the two of you, he would’ve had to go to two rooms just so that you could have his and he could have your old striped throw blanket that he was snuggled under during the show.

“Hey! I put your noodles away!” He calls from the kitchen, barely visible from the open bathroom door.

“Thankth!” You try and muster thanks while still succeeding in brushing your teeth with minimal mess.

“Do you want to finish this episode or not?” He asks, volume just loud enough that you can hear him. You step closer to the door so he can see your vehement nod straight away.

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

ramble: this is sort of a filler ep because i want to show the developing friendship between them before we jump to just plotline

#soobin #soobin fluff #soobin x reader #txt fluff #txt #bassist!soobin #guitarist!reader #tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together fluff #qiqi writes #tooth rotting fluff

13 notes · View notes

the-himawari-otome · 10 months ago

Text

B's-LOG July 2023 - Utakata no Uchronia Short Story Translation [Terse Liar]

Also available on the official website

It was the middle of the day with trails of steam hanging in the clear sky.

I arrived at Hangetsudou—a familiar general store slash mechanical workshop.

"—Are you in, Tsuyukusa?"

I peer into the shop, but it appears deserted.

After a few seconds, a familiar voice calls back from upstairs.

"...My hands are a bit full right now. Just come up."

"Got it!"

Well, he did answer.

(But I wonder if it's a bad time...)

Normally, he comes down as soon as he gets a visitor. But this reaction indicates how busy he must be.

I climb up the narrow staircase and enter the workshop on the second floor.

"Come on in. What's up?"

Tsuyukusa asks with his back turned to me, his gaze fixed down at his hands.

Tsuyukusa is the apprentice of an expert mechanic that used to frequent my home, and he's been a friend of mine ever since we were kids.

"I was passing by, so I just figured I'd check up on you. Sorry for bothering you. I'll head back for today."

"Huh?"

Tsuyukusa lifts his head and looks over his shoulder.

"No, don't go home."

"But you're working right now, aren't you?"

"...I want to tinker with this machine, but I also want you to stay."

I really don't wish to bother him while he's concentrating. I can come back any time if it's inconvenient for him.

However.

"You came all the way here, so I don't want you to leave. ...Take a seat over there? Please?"

"...If you say so."

I can't refuse if he insists.

I still felt like I was intruding, but I fold my legs and sit down on the cushion that Tsuyukusa pointed at.

"!"

He breaks into a wide, happy smile and returns to his work.

In his hands he holds a brass pocket watch.

(Amazing...! I'd love to own my own watch one day.)

But they're so expensive you could easily purchase a house for that price.

And in any case, they're rare items, so it's not that easy to get your hands on one.

"..."

As I watch him at work, carefully and delicately unfastening various sized gears with baited breath—

"Hey."

Tsuyukusa, who had been focused on his hands, lifts his face again.

"I know I'm the one who told you to sit over there, but when you stare at me so intently, it's a bit... erm, how do I put it?"

"Hm?"

"...It feels embarrassing."

Tsuyukusa's gaze wanders around the workshop.

I swear his ears peeking out from his blonde hair are tinged a bit red.

"I wonder this every time, but you always watch me without getting bored, huh? Don't you get tired of it?"

"Well, I love it after all."

"........."

"I mean, things that have stopped will come alive when you tinker around with them. I can't help but admire that."

"...Right, that. I know. Thanks."

"?"

I intended to convey how great he is in my own way, but it seems I didn't do a very good job.

"I may not be familiar with mechanics, but I know that you're amazing!"

"...Err, that's too much."

"After all, you have a magic touch that can fix anything. I can tell how much you care about machines!"

"Umm..."

"Maybe that's why I feel so comfortable in your workshop—mmph."

All of a sudden, a fluffy, soft rice cake is shoved against my mouth.

I take a bite on reflex, and the refined sweetness of red bean paste fills my mouth.

"...I had some stuffed rice cakes that I got from someone. Want some?"

"...Mm, mmph."

(He made me eat it before he even asked...!)

I wanted to say something like that surprised me, or that I can eat it myself. But I just chewed wordlessly.

Tsuyukusa reaches for a small teapot and adds some tea leaves inside.

"I'm a bit tired, so I'm gonna take a break. Sit with me."

As he speaks, he pours hot water from a metal pot and quickly brews some green tea for us.

"—So? What happened?"

I blink my eyes as I chew the rice cake.

"I assume you have a request for me. Am I wrong?"

I swallow the food in my mouth and take a sip of green tea.

It tastes delicious.

I let out a breath and begin to speak.

"So, you see. There's a water well in our district that's in bad shape."

According to the reports, the pump mechanism that draws the water up might be broken.

"I was wondering if you would take a look at it."

"Sure. If that's your request."

Tsuyukusa agrees so readily that it feels a little anticlimactic.

"Not having access to water would be a problem. I'll finish this job up and go take a look at it today."

"!"

If Tsuyukusa's going to take care of it, then there's no need to worry anymore.

"Thanks, Tsuyukusa. You're a lifesaver! I can't think of a more reliable mechanic than you!"

"...Ahh."

Tsuyukusa casts his eyes down slightly.

"Yeah, of course. ...If not, then you'd go to someone else."

For some reason, his voice that quietly spilled out with a sigh sounded sad.

A mysterious hesitation hid beneath his bashful smile.

---

[DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY WORK W/O PERMISSION, THANK YOU]

#utakata no uchronia #utakata no uchronia tsuyukusa #so I realized recently that this guy is sooo secretly in love with the MC and now I can't stop thinking about him #that's also one of my top fave tropes #sorry awayuki but im dying over here now #can this game be out already

12 notes · View notes

yelenasdiary · 2 years ago

Note

13 with florence pugh please

Summer Getaway

Pairing: Florence Pugh x Reader

Summary: You invited Florence to come along to a week away at your family’s cabin.

| Fluff | 1.01K | No Warnings | Florence & Reader are 18.

Prompt: "l’ll say we'll take the boat out. Just you and me." From THIS list.

AC: Ignore the fact this gif doesn't really go with the story.

Every Summer your family would spend a week away at a cabin that has been passed down from your grandfather to your father who has said when he passes, you and your younger brother, Alex, would have the cabin to share.

The cabin was located near a large lake, surrounded by tall green trees, wildlife calling throughout the night and a clear view of the night sky. It was tucked away well enough for privacy, not needing to worry about any ‘neighbours’ making complains about loud noises if you were to throw a party.

Florence tagged along every now and then if she was free. Florence is one of your closest friends. You guys have known each since your first day of school, so it was never a surprise to your parents when you’d come home and announce that Florence was coming along for the week getaway.

Little did your family know that Florence and you had recently admitted you both had feelings for each other and wanted to take things slow and private.

“I really want to spend the day with you, just us” Florence’s morning voice made you smile. Being friends for so long neither of you care to share the bed together but now it was different, it was exciting.

“We can do that” you replied with a smile.

“Away from your brother?”

“And my parents” you added, brush a lock of hair out of her face. “How do you plan on making that happen? I love your family, I do but – “

“I know” you chuckled, “super in our faces this year” you add.

“Only because we’re about to go to college and what not”

You playfully rolled your eyes remembering how much your mother has been on your back about packing the things you truly needed.

“I wish my parents were as chill as yours” you chuckled.

“They are, it’s just that Toby has already done college so they kind of let all that stress and worry out on him and you’re the eldest so they’re going to stress”

“I guess but it’s still frustrating! Mum won’t stop nagging me about packing, we still have all summer before we go so, I don’t see the harm in waiting until the last week of summer to pack”

“Let’s just enjoy the summer while we can before we’re slammed with exams and assignments again” Florence said before giving you a soft kiss. “Now, how do you plan to get us some time to ourselves?” Florence asked.

“We’ll have breakfast and if dad asks what we want to do today, I’ll say we’ll take the boat out. Just you and me”

“Will take work? I know how your dad gets about boat” Florence chuckled.

“Yeah, it should be fine. It needs a run anyway, plus Alex is probably going to want to get his motorbike out so dad will help him with that”

“Girls! Breakfast is ready!” your mother called from downstairs before Florence could reply.

After a big breakfast of eggs, toast, mushrooms, tomatoes, sausages, and sides of pancakes and of course, beans for those who enjoyed them, your father agreed you could take the boat out for a few hours as long as you took a walkie talkie in case of any emergency.

Florence was the first to shower and get dressed, wearing a peach-coloured playsuit, her hair in a messy bun and layers of gold jewellery, topped with her iconic sunglasses. “Are you ready?” she smiled with excitement as you returned downstairs after having a shower.

“I’m just going to grab a few sandwiches and some bottled water then we can go” you smiled as you walked into the kitchen. Your mother was always on top of things, after she’d have breakfast, she’d make up salads or sandwiches and put them in the fridge for lunch, saving time making them later.

“She’s all ready to go kid!” Your dad wore a proud smile after getting the small boat ready.

“Thank you, dad! I’ll be careful and if anything happens, I have the walkie talkie” you assured him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “She’s got fuel and some back up under that blanket if you need. Don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

“I promise” you smiled once more before making your way over to the boat. Your dad untied it from the wooden post and gave you a light push further into the lake as you got the engine to start. Your dad being the protective father he is, waved you both off until you were out of sight. Florence giggled before leaning over to kiss you properly now that you were both along.

“I know a place we can chill unless you’d rather just float in the middle of the lake” you smiled after she pulled away. “I don’t mind what we do”.

You drove the boat a little further away from any signs of life before letting the boat just float above the water. Florence stripped from her playsuit, showing her light blue bikini underneath. “Are you coming?” she asked, throwing her playsuit on top of the blanket that covered the fuel from the hot sun. “Let me just put the anchor out” you smiled, flicking the switch that automatically released the medium sized anchor.

Florence jumped into the warm water as you stripped into your own bathing suit before joining her. She swam close to you, wrapping her arms around the back of your neck as you placed your hands on her hips. Both of you kicking your legs to keep you both afloat.

“I don’t say it enough but you’re so beautiful” Florence said softly, looking to your eyes through her sunglasses. “You don’t need too; you already show me” you gave her a soft smile. “I’m going to miss you so much when we go to college” she sighed with a little frown. “Don’t think about college right now, just enjoy the summer with me” you replied before kissing her once again, “right now, it’s just us” you whispered against her lips.

Taglist: @red1culous | @bentleywolf29 | @natasha-belova | @jeyramarie |

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #fanfiction

280 notes · View notes

slytherhys · 2 years ago

Text

I've Just Seen a Face

Rowaelin Month, Day 1: Song Fic

based on the song I've Just Seen a Face by The Beatles (a cute song about love at first sight)

A/N - I wrote this some time ago so I'm not even sure it's any good (I'm kinda scared to rr it). Hope you like it!

I've just seen a face I can't forget the time or place Where we just met She's just the girl for me And I want all the world to see we've met

Had it been another day I might have looked the other way And I'd have never been aware But as it is I'll dream of her tonight

Every day before going to work (always right on time, might he add) Rowan likes to enjoy a medium cup of hazelnut latte sold specifically by the café just two blocks down from his apartment. The owner, Aurelia Banks, a kind old lady that never spells his name correctly (yesterday he was a Ruben), makes the best lattes in the entire city of Orynth and her pastries are enough to make a grown man cry. Sure, she regularly comments on his tattoos and dyed hair, but it’s a small price he’s willing to pay to get access to her baked goods and sweet coffee. His friend Lorcan likes to tease him relentlessly about his coffee addiction, but truth be told, Rowan can’t start his day without it. And he never had to. At least not until a random day in September when, for the first time in his 6 years living here, Aurelia closed for “an undetermined amount of time.” No explanation whatsoever. No return date. Nothing.

Rowan can’t exactly say Aurelia is the only café available in Orynth, but something about his morning routine being disturbed doesn’t sit right with him. Especially not when he knows he now has to walk an extra 10 minutes to stop by the only café that could possibly be open at 6:30 in the morning on a Friday. Rowan can admit their coffee is pretty good, but something about the owner makes him unexplainably angry. A man that calls his own café “Chaol’s Beans” should never be trusted.

The café itself is pretty pleasant – a mix of earth tones with vibrant patterns that seem to compliment the smell of coffee. That and the soft music playing create a cosy atmosphere Rowan could see himself enjoying – if only not for all things Chaol. The place is empty except for a girl studying in a booth by the corner and a couple trading bites of their food and speaking softly with each other. Not weird considering the time, except for the fact no one appears to be working either. Not that it bothers Rowan – it’s not like he’s not already 5 minutes late or anything.

Sighing loudly, Rowan leans against the dark counter, trying to see if he can find someone to serve him some coffee, but he only hears voices coming from behind the service doors. Loud ones, too. Something about sweets and a bad temper. He doesn’t get the chance to listen much else before the door aggressively swings back and a young woman steps out, fumbling with her moss green apron and walking furiously - as if imagining whoever is behind those doors pressed under the soles of her shoes.

Rowan feels his breath catch as he takes her in – her lithe form and her assertive walk, messy hair flying behind her with every step she takes as she mutters something under her breath. She’s too distracted to even notice him, but Rowan is fine with just watching her. Right as she is about to take her apron off, her head snaps in Rowan’s direction, her hands falling to her sides as she stops dead in her tracks. Her cheeks gain a pink tint, and she straightens. She stares at him for a few seconds, no words being exchanged between them. It’s like the entire universe shifts and they’re the only two people in the world to stand still in time. Rowan smiles softly at her, unable to talk for whatever reason, and that makes her snap out of her trance. She looks back to the door she just left from and clears her throat, stepping forward and sending him a soft smile. Her turquoise eyes can’t seem to decide if they should focus on the door behind her back or on Rowan.

She fixes her hair as she looks back once more, her apron swinging with her body’s movement. Never has something with the name Chaol’s Beans on it seem more appealing. Her gaze finds Rowan once again and she shakily grabs a pen and a paper cup. “Hi.” She smiles, the pink in her cheeks darkening. Rowan likes that. He likes that a lot. “Welcome to Chaol’s Beans, what can I get you?”

His heart catches in his throat and suddenly there are no words in the English language that could make him seem like the capable human being he sometimes is. The woman chuckles nervously, one eyebrow rising, and Rowan feels his cheeks warm. Hellas, it’s like he’s 17 all over again.

He’s aware a question was asked – and if only he hadn’t forgotten every single word in the English language, he would be more than pleased to answer her. To talk with her. To hear her sweet melodic voice, a bit of raspiness coming through, probably thanks to the screaming match going on a few seconds earlier.

Rowan Whitethorn has never been one of believing in fate. He never considered himself to be religious, nor is he superstitious. The closest he’s ever been to believing in an ulterior force was that one time he spilled beer on the counter and the amber puddle ended up looking exactly like his friend Lorcan - he still has that picture saved on his phone.

He wouldn’t go as far as to call himself a skeptic – he does like to believe that there is some order to the universe. But he’s never believed in things like destiny.

At least, he didn’t until now.

He tries to shake himself from his stupor, looking quickly up to the menu board and then back to the woman again, not really having the time to read it. He knows he didn’t read shit and by the amused look on her face, she knows it too. Her lips quirk up.

“I trust you as long as you bring me something with hazelnut.”

The woman looks up at him with smiling eyes. “Hazelnut?”

She’s not small in any sense of the word, but at 6’4 Rowan makes most people look up. Only Lorcan manages to escape that fate, much to Rowan’s chagrin.

He looks up to the menu board once again, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Do they not serve hazelnut flavoured drinks here? He’s not sure he minds, the stunning creature in front of him could serve him a glass of tap water and he’d be over the moon. “Hazelnut latte? Hazelnut Cappuccino?”

“Oh. Right!” She chuckles nervously, turning around to look up at the menu board. “Hazelnut latte, of course.” She writes down something on the paper cup that seems way too long to be a coffee order. Rowan watches her with avid interest. “A-and your name?” She stutters a bit and it’s all Rowan can do not to smile in victory. Something like male pride warming his chest at the thought of making her flustered.

“Rowan.” He leans against the counter, probably looking cockier than intended. The woman follows the movement, amusement playing in her eyes. “Rowan Whitethorn.”

“Well, Rowan Whitethorn,” Rowan has to fight the shiver that threatens to run through his body at the way his name sounds coming from her lips. “I’m going to make you the best hazelnut latte you’ve ever had in your entire life.” She announces with a mischievous smile, turning around before Rowan even has the chance to pay.

He follows her with his eyes, watching as she stumbles around behind the counter preparing his drink. She curses under her breath a few times, occasionally looking up at Rowan with a flush in her cheeks. Rowan recons he’ll remember that look for the rest of his life.

She looks like she’s not entirely sure what she’s doing and Rowan wonders if it’s her first week at the job. She reads every label of every dispenser and spills milk all over the counter, hiding an embarrassed look behind a curtain of golden hair. She appears to to do some latte art, but when she finally clears her throat and gives him his cup, all Rowan sees is lines of white with no apparent meaning. The words For the Hazelnut addict are scribbled on the cup alongside a…bird? He looks up at her with a questioning look. She blushes under his gaze and clasps her hands behind her back.

“It’s supposed to be a bird.” She explains quickly. “Because of your tattoo…” She points to her neck. “Well, you know.” He does know. That tattoo is a favourite of Miss Aurelia. There isn’t a day where he doesn’t hear about the fall of proper culture and how people now enjoy “painting” pigeons on their own skin. It’s actually a white-tailed hawk, something he’s tried to explain several times to no avail.

“And the latte art?” He asks, examining it further. It’s still just white lines that make absolutely no sense, but he wills his face to remain neutral. She chuckles nervously, muttering something under her breath. When she looks up her eyes find his and everything inside him goes still.

“It’s supposed to be flames.” She shrugs. “Or a fire, I guess.”

Rowan smirks as he looks down at his cup. He doesn’t have the heart to tell her it looks nothing like a flame, mainly when her choice of drawing resonates with him. Everything about this woman is fire: warmth, strength, boldness. “Fireheart.” He says softly.

Her eyes snap up to his, a confused look on her face. “Sorry?” Her voice is meek.

He clears his throat. “Your name.” He tries instead, nodding to her apron. “There’s no name tag.”

She looks down at her clothes, about to open her mouth just as the back door opens once again, this time with half the strength used by his fireheart. The colour drains from her face and she refuses to look back, her eyes comically wide as she stares at Rowan and Rowan alone.

“Aelin?” A deep voice calls out. Aelin. Something inside his body settles at that name.

“Fuck.” She mutters, and Rowan looks at her with a confused look on his face. Aelin sends him an apologetic look in return. “I thought you’d left already.” Rowan looks at the man speaking, a tall man with chestnut hair and dark eyes looks confusedly at Aelin. He looks at Rowan and sends him a greeting smile. “I’ll be right with you.” He says, pressing his hand on Aelin’s shoulder. He’s about to speak to her again when his eyes zero on the cup in Rowan’s hand. “Excuse me sir, who served you that?”

Rowan furrows his brows, looking between the newcomer and Aelin. Did he hallucinate her? No, that wouldn’t make sense, right? The dude has his hand on her shoulder. He called her Aelin. Right?

“Hm-”

“I did.” Aelin mutters and the man goes still.

“Why the fu-“ The man stops and closes his eyes as he takes too many deep breaths in not enough seconds. “Are you insane?” His voice drops to a whisper – Rowan is not sure why since he’s right there and he can listen to everything. “Are you trying to get Chaol’s Beans shut down?”

Would that make this man Chaol? He’s not sure he’s ready for that interaction.

“It’s not like you wouldn’t deserve it.” Aelin crosses her arms as she whisper-shouts back. She looks back at Rowan, as if fearing he’d left already. It’s not like he could leave her behind without a goodbye. Not now. Probably not ever.

“I told you I didn’t eat your sour patch kids, I don’t know what else you want to me say. And even if I did, could you please try and not poison my clients?”

He's Chaol, then.

“I’m not poisoning Rowan!” She yells, louder than intended by the way she flinches.

“Wait,” He interrupts, trying to catch up. Chaol looks up at Rowan with an apologetic smile on his face and Aelin looks like she wants to hide under the counter. He’s not sure what’s happening, but it’s positively hilarious. “You don’t work here?” He asks Aelin. She smiles sheepishly, shaking her head no. He nods, frowning as he tries to wrap his head around the weirdest morning he’s had in years as he takes a sip from his coffee. It’s all he can do not to spit it out and beg for mercy as the bitter taste overwhelms his taste buds. He's not sure how anyone could make such a bitter drink with so much sweetness at their disposal, but he swallows anyway and smiles at Aelin who starts to laugh, unable to stop.

“Sir, let me make you a new drink.” Chaol sends Aelin a murderous look, but she doesn’t even notice as she tries to catch her breath. “On the house.”

Rowan refrains from telling him he didn't pay for this one either.

“That’s not necessary.” He says, taking another sip. If he stops breathing for a few seconds, it doesn’t even taste that bad. “It’s actually quite good.” He shrugs, willing his face to remain neutral.

Aelin looks up at him with a beaming smile. “You really don’t have to drink it.”

Rowan shrugs sheepishly, “I want to.” And smiles at her. Chaol mutters something under his breath and storms off – but not before screaming at Aelin to get out of his café. Aelin bites her lip as she takes off her apron and makes her way around the counter, a questioning look on her face. Rowan smirks as he walks past her, opening the door for her to leave and follows right behind.

They start walking in comfortable silence, both glancing at each other like they’re on their first date in middle school. It ought to feel ridiculous, but he can’t bring himself to care. About anything, really.

Rowan is fine – he’s fine with being late for the first time in his life; he’s fine with drinking what’s probably the worst thing he’s ever tasted in his life; and he’s fine with becoming a regular customer at Chaol’s Beans. There’s no reason not to be fine when Aelin walks next to him with a gorgeous smile on her rosy lips.

“I’m sorry.” She chuckles nervously, breaking the silence. “I don’t know why I did that, it’s not like I ever even worked as a Barista. But…” She sighs, looking at him and back to the sidewalk again. “Something-”

“I know.” Rowan interrupts her, his hand finding the small of her back as they walk side by side. He feels her tense for a second before she relaxes into him – nothing has ever felt more right in his entire life.

“You really don’t have to drink that. It probably tastes like crap. I’m pretty sure I added some cleaning product at some point. I was a little distracted.”

By the taste of it, Rowan wouldn’t be surprised. But he shrugs. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Really?” She smirks. “I think we need to work on that, Rowan Whitethorn.”

And how could he say not to that? Especially when she steps a bit closer and her sweet smoky scent reaches his nose. When she laughs as he finally gives in and grimaces at a gulp of latte that definitely has some salt in it.

Rowan isn’t sure where they’re heading as they slowly walk down the sidewalk. His job has been long forgotten and he isn’t sure where Aelin is supposed to go next. But somethings just happen before people realize why they’re happening and there’s really no questioning their silent agreement that they must keep walking side by side until they find a way to do something else. There’s a lot to find out, a lot to learn, but Rowan isn’t in a hurry. From the looks of it, neither is Aelin. It’s almost like they have all the time in the world.

And maybe they do.

Fallin', yes, I am fallin' And she keeps callin' Me back again

#rowaelin month #rowaelin month 2022 #rowaelin au #rowaelin fic #rowaelin fanfiction #rowan x aelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #throne of glass #tog fic #aelin fic #throne of glass fic #rowaelin #throne of glass fanfiction #tog #coffeeshop au

67 notes · View notes

slytherwrites · 3 years ago

Text

Part Two: Girl’s Night

Momo never minded sharing you. You were an intellectual masterpiece, something to be shared and gifted to the world. And so, she would quickly talk about what you do and who you are (once her full-fledged background check came in, of course).

The next two you meet are Kyoka Jirou and Tooru Hagakure—two of the other Class 1A girls. Momo grabs your wrist harshly, yanking you towards them when she spots you in the lunchroom.

“Oh hey, Yaoyorozu!” You press a hand to your chest, your heart practically beating out of your chest, “You scared me. Anyways… is there anything you need? I don’t have your costume done, but I’m working on it during my free time!”

“Don’t worry about that right now. And call me Yaomomo, we’re friends, remember?”

“Al-alright Yaomomo.” You reply, “If this isn’t about your costume, what do you need?”

“To have lunch together!” Momo sets down two bento boxes, “Here, I had my staff send it over last block. It should still be heated up!”

“Thanks…” You take the lunch. It saves you the trouble of going through Lunch Rush’s line.

With food already with them, Momo’s other two friends don’t get up either. They have you trapped with them the entire lunch. You eat what Momo’s given you. It’s your favorite.

You don’t bother asking how she knows your favorite food. It’s just a coincidence… right?

“So…?” Momo asks, eyes wide and hopeful for your approval, “What do you think?”

“It’s good!” You reply, “my favorite, actually.”

“What a coincidence…” This is the first thing the purple haired girl says to you, “Anyways, the name’s Jirou. Kyoka Jirou.”

“And I’m Tooru!” The invisible girl exclaims, “Momo’s said a lot about you!”

“All good things, Y/N.” Momo chuckles.

“You’re the girl who was singing during the School Festival.” You place where you’ve seen her face before, “Your voice is really good, by the way!”

“Th-thanks…” Jirou’s face starts to flush.

Tooru adds, “You can hear it again if you join us for girl’s night!”

“Girls night?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about.” Momo explains, “the 2A girls get together every Friday night and work through whatever we need to do, since heroics can get pretty stressful. And we also have our fair share of fun!”

“Wouldn’t I be intruding?” You ask, “I don’t exactly fit the requirements…”

“Nonsense, Y/N!” Tooru replies, “We’d love to have you.”

“Yeah…” Jirou comments, “I can show you some of my other instruments and some other things I wrote, besides the song for the festival—”

“You wrote that?!”

“She totally did.” Momo replies, “and she has a ton of music and whatnot. The others wouldn’t mind either.”

“If I’m not swamped with other work then yeah, I’ll come.” You decide.

Tooru squeals, “We’re going to have so much fun Y/N! Just you wait!”

===

Come Friday, your teachers hadn’t given you any more big assignments. Chapters to read and worksheets to fill out were expected, but nothing would be too time-consuming. In other words, you were free to attend the Class 2-A Girl’s Night.

All of the dorms are in the same corner of campus. Though, because the 2-A dorm was for Heroics and not Support, your dorm is still a ways away from theirs. And since you don’t want to be late, you head early.

The sun’s starting to set. But unlike your hometown, you aren’t overly cautious about walking around during this time. U.A. itself is surrounded by a massive gate and the sidewalks are well-lit. Plus, Pro Heroes are on campus 24/7.

It doesn’t matter that you’re quirkless. You’re safe here.

The sunset never lasts long. So as it's in its final moments, you knock on the door to 2-A’s dorm. It’s identical to the support class dorms. Some support class students tried to say that future heroes would get better dorms. The evidence against it is right in front of you, right down to the loud, chaotic sound emanating from the inside.

You knock at the door, even though you don’t think it would be heard. After another knock, you go for the doorknob. The dorms aren’t allowed to be locked unless there is a villain attack. So you aren’t surprised when you’re able to open the door for yourself.

The future heroes you’ve watched train and design costumes for are sitting there, in various groups. Names don’t really come to mind—except for Tooru, who is sitting on one of the green couches.

“Y/N!” She jumps up and grabs your arm, dragging you towards the elevator before anyone else can see you “C’mon!”

Your bag is secured on your shoulder though you still put your other hand upon it, in order to not lose it. The speed and strength of Tooru is unexpected, but she is a hero student after all.

The elevator ride up to Kyoka’s floor and the couple of steps to her room is over before you notice. Inside are instruments lining most of the wall—more instruments than you could ever learn in a lifetime. The red is an unexpected color, considering that her hero suit is black and pink, but you think this suits her better.

“You must be Y/N!” The pink girl with horns bolts up. Ashido? You think. The names of everyone don’t stick immediately. “I’m Alien Queen! But you can call me Mina! You’re so much prettier than they say!”

“Who says—” You get interrupted by one of the other girls sharing an (out of place) bean bag chair, “Hi! I’m Ochako and this is Tsu. Pizza?”

The other girl—Tsu—passes a pizza box towards you, “Kero.”

“Oh no thanks. I ate back with my class.” You reply, reaching into your bag, “Oh and Yaomomo, I have your completed costume.”

“Really?” Her eyes light up at the completed costume. “I’m gonna be right back, let's see how it fits!”

Momo’s in and out of Jirou’s bathroom quickly. When she returns, every piece of the costume is on and she’s modelling it for the other girls.

“I love it, Y/N!”

Ochako asks, “You designed that?”

“And built it.” You add.

Mina exclaims, “Girl, me next! I’ve been dying for a new suit. They didn’t let us change much for our winter costumes and I’m already sick of mine! Camo? What was I even thinking!”

“I’ll make note of that…”

The conversation shifts and soon you’re asked more and more questions. Favorite color? Why did you join the support department? Crushes? Your past? Your future? Sure, the other girls answer, but you wouldn’t be able to remember their answers if you tried. But they will remember yours.

A knock comes from the door and Yaoyorozu—still in her new hero costume—jumps up to get it.

“Hey, Tenya just wanted to remind you all that the kitchen’s about to close if you all need anything.” The green-haired boy comments, “Thought you all would like to know.”

You look around the spread. A bag of chips is in your lap at the moment, but food and drinks litter the floor.

“Not really, but thanks though.” Momo replies.

Midoriya says something else, but you aren’t really paying attention. In all honesty, you don’t know what you're doing here. A quirkless support student shouldn’t be hanging around with the next hero generation.

“But like, Ectoplasm giving us an essay is like, so dumb.” Tooru complains, “I mean, who even gives essays in math!”

“Honestly, it’s better than actual math work.” Ochako counters.

You stare up at the ceiling. If they’re calling for you, you don’t hear it. Eventually, your eyes get heavy and you start to tire out. The bag of chips are still in your lap and your head’s in Mina’s lap, but it doesn’t matter. Besides, the fastest way to get through girl’s night is sleeping through it.

#mha yandere #yandere mha #yandere bnha #yandere class 1a #yandere momo yaoyorozu #yandere hagakure

161 notes · View notes

buttterknifeee · 3 years ago

Text

Deep Six- Teen Titans x Aquagirl!Reader

Request: May I request an insert in the episode Deep Six where the titans meet Aqualad?

Masterlist

Summary: Robin makes you accompany this guy name Aqualad and Beast Boy. Will you be able to handle them or will their bickering tear you apart. Also you're a katara kinnie (i know ATLA didn't exist then but still) This episode is Season 1 Episode 8!

Pairings: Platonic!Aqualad x reader, Robin x reader if you squint

Word Count: 4314

A/N: this time i decided not to split up the episode and post it as one! I made them meet for the first time here, so the Aqua kids don't bond much yet, but if you want to see more, feel free to request! (click here for guidelines) Also yes I also ended this one with "anyone up for pizza" thats all i know how to do to end a fan ficbskghs

“Ahhhh, don’t you just love the ocean?” you admired the shallow sea, the blue water flowing by you. The others prepared for launch, reading off the status of the T-Sub.

“Main power online.”

“Oxygen tanks at maximum”

“Defensive system active”

Beast boy hums confidently. “And your new secret weapon is ready to rock.”

Cyborg rolls his eyes through the headset. “Only time you qualify as a secret weapon is after eating a tofu bean burrito.” You stifled a giggle as Beast Boy yells in protest.

“Uh, 'scuse me, bud. Can you breathe underwater? Uh-uh. Can you be any fish in the sea?”

You shrugged your shoulders and smirked. “Cyborg can’t but I can. And I can breathe underwater without being a fish so I guess I’m just as much of a secret weapon as you, BB.”

You found out that you could breathe underwater a few days after you and the others formed the Teen Titans. You were surfing for the first time since that day when you fell off your board. You had accidentally inhaled underwater, and to your relief, you found that you were able to breathe in the ocean water with no problem. You offered to swim outside the sub on your own, but the team didn’t want you to get hurt, so you were stuck in the small confines of your own pod of the T-sub.

Robin ignores you three’s bickering. “We have to find out what this Trident guy is planning,” he says. “If it takes forty barrels of toxic waste, I doubt it's environmentally friendly.”

The engines warm up, the vessel humming to life. “Titan Launch!” Robin exclaims and the T-sub shoots through a tunnel and into the Jump CIty Bay. You watch in awe at the ocean life around you. Now that you had a connection to the ocean, your perspective on ocean life had changed. You clutch your seashell necklace as you continue to take in the view of the ocean, ignoring Beast Boy showing off his teeth and Cyborg turning off his mic as a result. Robin’s voice snaps you back into reality.

“Sonar contact. Beast Boy! Aquagirl! Ready to go?”

You gave a quick smile. “On it.” You unbuckle your harness and the dome unlatched, allowing you to swim out. Beast Boy gave a mischievous smirk.

“Dude, I was born ready. Try not to be jealous.” He aimed the second comment at Raven, who looked at him indifferently. Beast Boy quickly swam out of his pod and transformed into a whale.

“He just put on three hundred thousand pounds. I am so jealous.” she notes sarcastically.

You and Beast Boy made silent eye contact before swimming towards the cargo ship, examining its destroyed remains. He turns into a shark to keep investigating, and you follow his lead. You couldn’t help but feel that you were being watched, as you swam around the ship. Suddenly, out of the corner of your eye, you see a green figure; not a bright green like Beast Boy’s but a sicker, murkier green. You point at the green man as he swam away, and you and Beast Boy immediately bolt after it, the T-sub following behind.

Your black scuba shoes propelled you forward, and you aimed blasts of water towards the figure, but it kept dodging your shots. The monster, whom you now assumed was Trident, fired his weapon at you and Beast Boy, and when you dodged, it hit the T-sub. You forced yourself to continue to chase after Trident, hoping that the vessel was also capable of dodging his shots.

You and Beast Boy were nearing close to catching Trident when a voice rang in your head. It wasn’t yours, nor Beast Boy’s; it was clear, belonging to someone no older than you were.

“Your friends are in danger.” you heard. You and Beast Boy both stopped in your tracks, looking at each other in shock. You realized that the T-sub was no longer following you.

“Our friends are in what? Whoa! How did you say that? Dude! How did I say that? Hey!” Beast Boy also says in your mind. You turn to see the T-sub being attacked, and shot off without waiting for Beast Boy.

“Dude, questions are for later! Let’s go!” You order, not even entirely sure how you were able to talk either. You approach the vessel, which was being destroyed by Trident, who you swore you were just chasing.

Suddenly, a figure knocked Trident down. Trident and the mystery person fought each other, moving so quickly that all you could see of the person was a blur of black and blue

You turn your attention to the T-sub, which was slowly sinking into a fissure on the seafloor. Water was filling up fast and a look of panic settled on your teammates faces (except Raven, who seemed to have accepted death). Your eyes glowed blue as you outstretched your arms towards the damaged vessel. Focusing on the water around the titans, you forced the leaks to cease and the descent into the fissure to stop. Your muscles burned as you kept your stance; holding the vessel in place underwater was similar to holding it up on your arms above ground. Beast Boy raced to help as you struggled to keep grip when suddenly, two whales came and carried the sub on their backs.

You let go of the ship and breathe a sigh of relief. Beast Boy sees you almost passing out and comes to your side, now in the form of a squid. Instead of comforting you, he complains about the whales' help.

"They got it? How come they got it?"

A familiar voice rang in your head again. "Because I asked for their help." The voice belonged to the guy who was fighting Trident before. He comes to your other side and supports your other arm, putting it around his neck.

"You talk to fish? Yeah right. And let go of her!"

"You guys need help, and I'm talking to you right?" He glared at Beast Boy, keeping his grip on you.

Beast Boy was about to reply when you held your hand up in front of his squid face. "Beast Boy, I'm a solid five seconds from collapsing. I'm fine with the help."

The guy in blue gave a small smile. "And it's called telepathy. Let's go."

The three of you swam into a cavern. As you entered, the T-sub was floating on the water's surface and although it was extremely damaged, it managed to keep your teammates safe. You nodded to Beast Boy and the other teen and they let you go as you approach the other titans.

Raven asked, "where are we?"

"My place," the mysterious teen answered. "I told the whales to bring you here."

Raven and Starfire both blushed and gave bashful thank yous. You stared at them. Are they… in love with the new guy???, you thought, confused.

Beats Boy seemed angrier than ever. "He saved you?" He yelled, turning back into his human form. "Hel-lo? I was there too, you know."

Cyborg raised an eyebrow. "Were you? Because if anything I remember Aquagirl keeping us from drowning. What, you stopped Trident from kebabbing us with that souped up shrimp fork?"

"Way to go!" Robin said sarcastically. Beast Boy stuttered a response, but the blue teen interrupted.

"Aquagirl, huh? Well, I'm Aqualad. Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier, we Atlanteans like to keep a low profile."

You shake his hand, now taking in what Aqualad looked like. He was half a foot taller than you, with slicked back hair and black pupils. He wore a bodysuit with blue scales and black accents. He had nice features, but you couldn't figure out why the other girls were drooling over him, so you kept that thought to yourself.

"You're from Atlantis? That's so cool!" You say.

He nodded. "So is Trident." He opens up a hologram from a table in the cavern. "He's the worst criminal in Atlantis, with an ego to match."

He continues a sideshow filled with pictures of the sickly green monster. "Trident claims he's perfect in every way so he thinks he can do whatever he wants."

"Any ideas what he wants to do with all that toxic waste?" Robin asked.

"Whatever it is, it'll be bad for both our worlds. He's already gained some kind of new power. It's like he can be everywhere at once." Aqualad says.

"Noticed that," Raven says sarcastically.

"As long as we're after the same guy, maybe we can help each other." He looks at the six of you.

Your eyes sparkle. "Of co-" you begin, but Beast Boy pushed you out of the way.

"Whoa, hey, no, we're good. Got the whole Trident thing under control. 'Sides, I'm sure there's a school of minnows somewhere that need your--" He rejects Aqualad's offer, much to you and the other's dismay. Robin pulls him back, and the six of you group huddled.

"We're at the bottom of the ocean," Raven notes.

"Our sub is Swiss cheese." Cyborg adds.

"I almost died back there," You say.

"And we cannot breathe water," Starfire mentions.

Robin is the first to break away from the huddle. "We'll take any help you can give us." He says to Aqualad.

Aqualad nods and has some amphibian guy named Tramm fix the T-sub. He turns back to us. "While he's helping you, I'll track down Trident. " He turns to go into the ocean again, but Beast Boy intersects.

"You mean I'll track down Trident," He says, pushing him a little

Aqualad pushes him back a little harder. "That's ok, I can handle it."

"Thanks, but I think I should do this."

"Seriously, I can take care of it!"

The five of you watched as their quarrel turned into an all out brawl, and suddenly you couldn't take it anymore.

"GUYS," You yell, causing a wall of water to shoot up next to them to grab their attention. They both stared at you wide eyed. "Stop. The. Fighting." You say with a stern expression.

"Why don't you two both go track him down together?" Robin offers, but the two teens cross their arms and scoff.

"I usually work alone." Aqualad says.

"Yeah. Me too."

"You do not! You're part of a team!"

"And you hang out with Tramm the fish boy! What's your point?"

"Hey! Arguing isn't going anywhere. Listen, Aquagirl can go with you. That'll make sure you stay on task." Robin commands, and you perk up at the sound of your name. You quickly pulled him aside.

"What the hell man?? They obviously don't like each other, you should have seen how much they fought on the way here!." You argue, and Robin looks at you through his masked eyes.

"You're the only other person who can survive underwater, they're gonna need you. Besides, you're great at handling conflicts; you'll be fine." He says with a smile. You blush a little at his comment, and sighed.

"Alright Rob, you can count on me” You return to the rest of the group and the three of you jump into the ocean.

As you headed towards the bottom of the ocean, you decided to ask Aqualad a question that's been bothering you.

“Hey Aqualad,” you say telepathically. “Before you said that you were able to communicate with sea animals. How come you’re able to communicate with me?”

“I don’t know actually,” Aqualad admits, still swimming next to you. He points to your necklace. “I’m guessing it's because of your necklace.” He stops to examine it. Beast Boy groans and stops as well. It glowed a little in his hand as he read the ancient text off of it.

“The Shell of Poseidon,” He read out loud. “I recognize this from the library in Atlantis. Only Atlanteans can use its powers, so you must be Atlantean then, right?”

“Woah! I’m not Atlantean, I’ve never even been there,” you sputter, absolutely shocked at what the teen said.

“Well, you must have some blood in you,” he shrugged. “Hey, maybe we’re cousins or something.”

You grin. “Aquacousin? I like the sound of that!”

Beast Boy interrupts your moment. “Ok, haha, family is fun and all, but while you were floating around finding out parts of your identity or whatever, I’ve actually found something on my sonar so, try to keep up.” He swims off, leaving you two to follow him. You expected to see the sea monster, but instead came upon a group of dolphins.

“No offense B.B. but these don't look like Trident to me.” you smirk.

Aqualad swims up to the dolphins, focusing on his telepathy. The dolphins swim up together and Aqualad turns to you and Beast Boy.

“They told me where to find Trident. Try to keep up.” He mocks Beast Boy, then swims with the dolphins. You look at Beast Boy, who seemed pretty grumpy, and turn to follow Aqualad.

You tailed behind as the two boys raced each other, Beast Boy turning into various aquatic creatures to catch up with the equally competitive teen. Then you see it. In front of them, Trident swam into view. You and Aqualad stop on instinct, but Beast Boy keeps going.

"Beast Boy! Stop!" You both yell, as he barrels straight towards Trident.

"What's the matter?" He taunts. "Am I too fast for y-"

You winced as you watched him crash into the sea monster and fall to the floor.

"Heh… how's it going," Beast Boy says telepathy to the monster towering over him. Trident growled.

"Keep your thoughts to yourself, you inferior fool!" He pointed his well, trident at beast boy and fires; Beast Boy barely dodges it.

Aqualad tackles Trident and they fall off an underwater ridge.

"Oh no you! This time he's mine!" Beast Boy yells, following Aqualad to the ridge.

"Beast Boy wai-" you yell, but was cut off by something grazing the side of your head. You turn, and see Trident swing his weapon at you. You dodged his next swing, wondering how he was able to get to you right after being attacked by Aqualad. You send him flying across the ocean with your water powers, when you hear Beast Boy yelling. You turn to see Beast Boy in squid form latched onto Aqualad's face. You could see Trident swim away from the corner of your eye as you swam to pull Beast Boy off of Aqualad. Aqualad glares at Beast Boy, his face peppered with red dots from Beast Boy's accidental attack.

“I said, ‘incoming’” he defends himself. Aqualad ignores him and points to another figure swimming into a grotto.

“He’s getting away!” Aqualad swims away, Beast Boy following.

“Wait-” you say, confused. Didn't you just send Trident flying in the other direction? How did he move so quickly? You reluctantly followed your friends into the cavern. You joined them as they observed the two tunnels that split off into two different directions.

“What are we gonna do now?” you think out loud.

“Maybe the question is where were you guys?” Aqualad snaps, turning to the two of you. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion while Beast Boy swims forward to be face to face with Aqualad.

“Where was I? Fighting Trident by myself!” He jabbed a squid tentacle into Aqualads shoulder.

“You barely laid a tentacle on him! At least I managed to break his weapon!”

“Dude, that's just wrong. I so broke that fork thing!”

“BOYS!” you yell. “I also fought Trident and I sent him in the opposite direction, and now he's here. There's something going on…” The two began to think, but then perked their heads up. They then point at opposite tunnels.

“There he goes!” they yell at the same time. You stare at the two of them in even deeper confusion. Beast boy swims up to you, making eye contact.

“I saw him! He's that way! I'm right, he's wrong! End of story!” He crosses his tentacles. Aqualad pushes Beast Boy aside so that you were now staring at his dark pupils.

"I'm telling you, he's this way!"

"GUYS, we can just split up," You say flatly, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration. "Aqualad I'm sure you can handle yourself, so I'll go with Beast Boy."

"Aw sweet!- Heyyy…" Beast Boy says to your backhanded comment. Aqualad nods and swims off into the tunnel.

You and Beast Boy were alone in the tunnel when you sighed.

"B.B., why do you keep picking fights with Aqualad?" You asked, still looking ahead. Beast Boy turns to you, acting shocked.

"ME??? It's not my fault Mr. Pretty-Boy-Know-It-All keeps showing off!" He whines.

"Dude, he's just trying to help us. Maybe you should-" you were cut off by a loud booming voice.

"Worthless scum! You cannot beat perfection!" Trident bellowed from behind you. You and Beast Boy turned, already in a fighting position.

"How many of you fork things do you have?" He mumbled as you charged forward.

You dodged his energy bolts, Trident in return dodging your attempts to push him farther back. Beast Boy turns into a turtle, pulling his arms and legs inside. Trident threw his weapon and it bounced off of him, flying into you and sending the two of you hurtling through the water.

"I always win!" You hear him say as you regain your stance. Beast Boy turns into a giant crab, grabbing onto Trident's weapon.

"And I thought Aqualad had a big ego!" He yelled telepathically.

"BEAST BOY GET BACK!" You yell. He swiftly let go, and you shot a jet of water towards Trident, sending him flying into a cavern wall. The cavern shakes, and a mass of boulders come crashing down. All you could see was a crushed trident sticking out from under the rocks. You breathed a sigh of relief until you felt a searing pain in your leg. You look and see a burn mark; Trident probably hit you before you buried him in a pile of rocks. Beast Boy looks at you, a worried expression in his eyes (despite being in the form of an ocean animal).

“I’ll be fine,” you grimace. “Let's find a way out first.” You painstakingly swim until you find a cave similar to Aqualads. You drag yourself towards the land as Beast Boy turns back into his human form. Right after you pull yourself up, you see Aqualad jump out of the water. He sees the two of you, and runs to meet up with you. He and Beast Boy begin to talk at the same time.

“ I just saw Trident!... No, you didn't!... Yes, I did! Cut it out!”

“I don’t care what you say! I fought Trident!” Beast Boy yelled, a vein nearly jumping out of his forehead.

"That's impossible!" Aqualad counters, his fists clenched so tight you thought you saw blood.

They both seemed to be prepared to fight each other. You jumped in between them, holding both their heads back as they flail their arms, trying to get a hit at each other.

"You know," You begin, silencing the two boys. "When Robin asked me to join you guys, I didn't want to. You two are heroes that just met each other and you were already fighting! But he told me that I could handle it and he's right! I can handle the both of you; but it seems to me that you guys can't handle each other. So here's what's gonna happen: I'm gonna heal myself because oh right! I got BURNT and you two are gonna talk it out." You let go of the boys, and they watched as you limped over to the edge of the water, plopped yourself down, and started pulling the ocean water to your leg. You listened in a little as you concentrated the water on your leg. It only took a few seconds to heal your burn, it was only surface level and you had gotten better at using your healing powers. They were still talking as you noticed what was in front of you: hundreds of Trident clones and yellow Trident capsules-eggs attached to the ceiling.

"Uh guys…" you say, rejoining them, but they had seen it too.

"One Trident is bad…" Aqualad says.

"... but this is…" Beast Boy adds.

"... an entire …" You say.

"...ARMY!" One of the tridents finishes your thought.

They all charge, and the three of you brace or impact. You raise your arms and a wave of water takes out a small group of the monster clones. You dodge their attacks, shooting jets of water at their heads. You see Beast Boy get flung into a machine, and an egg hatching sequence begins on the screen. You regroup with the other boys in front of the machine.

"Oops," Beast Boy said sheepishly.

"Great," Aqualad groaned as the clones began to close in.

"We need a plan," You mumble.

A group of the clones began to speak.

"My brilliant plan is already a success"

"If one of me was perfect…"

"Why not make more?"

"You can never have too much of a good thing"

"Once my army conquers Atlantis…"

"I will declare war on the surface world! Everyone on the planet will bow down before me"

"And praise my perfection!"

Aqualad whispers to the both of you as the clones cheer. "Any bright ideas?"

Beast Boy whispered back. "Just one. Try to keep up." He turned to the clones. "So if you're all perfect, which one of you is the best?" He asked.

One of the tridents answered. "I am!... Huh?"

As soon as you understood what Beast Boy was doing, you grinned. Aqualad stepped up.

"Come on. You can't all be the best." He says.

"One of you must be better than the others," You add.

One of the tridents step forward. "I am the original!I am the best!"

"You are not the original"

"I am!" Multiple tridents yell at once.

"Nonsense you inferior fools! I am perfect! I am Trident! "

You watch in amusement as the clones turn on each other and the fight turns into a full on brawl. The fight eventually ends, and all the tridents laid on the ground, defeated. Aqualad turns to Beast Boy.

"Great idea," He says. You noticed that there were no hints of sarcasm in his voice. Whatever they said to each other earlier must have made them work better together, you figured.

"Kinda got it from you," Beast Boy says."Now we just have to stop those from hatching." He points to the yellow pod filled ceiling. Right as he said that, the screen on the machine behind you hit 0 on the timer and the word "begin" flashed on the screen.

"Too late!" The three of you yelled at the same time. New Trident clones were breaking through their membrane "eggs". Beast Boy instinctively turns into a hippopotamus and tramples the crowd, creating a path to the ocean. You and Aqualad sprint behind Beast Boy, dodging the clones' outstretched arms. You all dive into the water, the Tridents close behind.

"We can't let them escape! We need to find some way of sealing the exit!" Aqualad yells telepathically.

"Right now, I'm just worried about getting to the exit." Beast Boy replies. You didn't look back, but you could feel the clones closing in. As you got closer to the exit you saw a familiar looking silhouette.

"The T-sub!" You exclaimed as you swam out of the cave. The clones stop in their tracks in confusion.

"Huh?" You hear one of them say.

You moved out of the way as the sub sent beams towards the entrance of the cave. The Blast caused a pile of rubble to fall, blocking the exit. You smile at your team who's cheering (along with Aqualad’s friend Tramm) inside their pods. The three of you turn bad to observe the T-sub’s work.

“Good thing Trident likes himself so much, 'cause I'm thinking he won't see anybody else for a looong time.” Beast Boy says.

You find yourself on the surface again, on the shore of the Titan’s Tower. Raven and Starfire both continue to look at Aqualad with heart eyes as Robin steps forward.

“Consider yourself an honorary titan” he says with a smile, holding out a familiar black and yellow communicator for him to take. “We couldn't have done it without you. Thanks.”

“Right back at you. It's good to know there's people up here I can trust.” Aqualad looks at you and Beast boy. He says goodbye to Raven and Starfire, who blushingly say it back. He then turns to Beast Boy.

“What can I say, dude? You're the best.” Beast Boy says.

“Nah. You're the best.”

“Yeah, you're right. And if you ever want me to prove it, I'm always up for a race.”

“Just try and keep up.” Aqualad laughs, patting his head. He finally turned to you.

“Aquagirl, it's been really nice to meet you. Next time you’re near Atlantis, give me a call and I’ll show you around. There's so much to show you,” he stretched out his hand for a handshake, but you pulled him in for a hug. He was surprised at your gesture, but soon returned it. Raven and Starfire looked at you with pure envy as you pulled back with a smile.

“I’ll take your word for it, Aquacousin” you say, making a reference to your nickname for him earlier. He laughs, then waves goodbye. The six of you wave back as he swims back into the ocean. Robin gently put his hand on your shoulder.

“You did a great job today Aquagirl. I knew I could count on you.”

“You know you can always count on me, dude.” you say with a smile. “Now I’m kinda hungry. Anyone up for pizza?”

154 notes · View notes

forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years ago

Text

Stare Enough

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 4034

Summary: Bucky's got a new stare. Sam spends all afternoon and most of the evening working up the courage to meet it.

Both Sam and the food are the main attraction at this party and the problem with that situation is that it takes so damn long for one main attraction to get a second to enjoy the other.

He’s grateful—god, is he grateful—for the turnout. Friends, neighbours, the kind of people he and Sarah call family without there being any actual relation by blood, they’ve all shown up. Since the Blip, Sam’s felt like he’s always around, but this feels like a real homecoming. No sadness, nothing bittersweet. It’s a celebration and he’s at the center of it. Him and the food.

At last, Sam’s done the circuit with his plate, spooning creamy salads and grilled vegetables, stacking shellfish pink as a sunrise. There’s a fresh-baked roll perched atop a scoop of sweet potatoes and caramelized onions that smells so fucking warm and mouth-watering he has to resist walking with his nose buried in it. He collects a set of utensils furled in the middle of a paper napkin (courtesy of an efficient assembly line of old ladies, chatting and twisting neat rolls of cutlery), plate bowing into the palm of his other hand, and that’s when his damn phone vibrates in his pocket.

Sam halts and makes a sound of frustration. Nobody’s come to this thing empty-handed, so there are dishes crowding the surface of the tables, no place to set his plate down. His phone vibrates again. A teenager comes up to peruse the spread in front of him and Sam sighs, knowing what he’s about to do.

“Here,” he says heavily, offering up his beautifully arranged and wonderfully fragrant meal. The cob of corn shining with the butter he lovingly smeared over it nearly rolls over the edge. “You’re the luckiest kid in the world.”

Quickly, Sam turns away, sliding out his phone and bringing it to his ear. He doesn’t want to witness the boy digging in. His stomach growls as he greets Joaquin Torres.

“Sam,” Torres says. “Uh, I mean, sir. Mr. Captain Am… Captain Wil—”

“Take it easy,” Sam laughs. “You know me, Torres. Don’t get starstruck now.”

“Honestly, I never really got over you being the Falcon. Now that you’re Captain America… Apologies if it takes me a little while to be cool about it.” After a pause—taken while Torres attempts to become cool with Sam being Captain America, Sam assumes—he asks, “You celebrating?”

Not far from where Sam’s standing, there are two little girls singing along to their clapping game. At a table behind them, a trio of elderly gentlemen are arguing over which one of them it was that caught that 50-pound snapper off the dock back in 1978. There’s a sear of meat and fish being rotated onto and off of the grill and, bouncing over everything, music from a speaker someplace.

“Yeah,” Sam says with a broad grin. “Yeah, we are. I’d save you a plate, but I can’t even manage to hang onto my own.”

He doesn’t mention that Torres is responsible for that situation; he’s aware that, besides being a fan, the Lieutenant is a little bit infatuated with him. Sam’s trying to be gentle until the day he can respond to Torres with friendly smack-talk, the way he would Steve or Scott or Bucky. Maybe not exactly like he does with Bucky.

“Don’t worry about it,” Torres cheerfully insists. “I wasn’t calling for that, I just wanted to give you a heads up about something.”

“Alright. Let me just…”

Sam strides away from the heart of the party towards the water, seeking quiet. Kids dart in front of him and that’s nothing unusual, but when he follows them with his gaze, he sees they’re running towards Bucky. Bucky, who has his Vibranium arm extended and two kids dangling off it already, one of whom might be Sam’s nephew. Of course, Mr. Casual, Mr. Smiles, Mr. Social Butterfly, is carrying on a conversation like his arm isn’t being used as a jungle gym. A conversation with Sarah.

For just a moment, Sam stops in his tracks, considering whether he should go over there and break up any potential flirting. But then he watches them. Bucky’s just talking to her, not flicking his gaze up and down while he checks her out. And Sarah, she’s relaxed and smiling, totally at ease, like Bucky’s another member of their community. That makes him a friend. Family.

That’s one thought too far and Sam jerks himself into motion again, walking until he’d be swimming with another step.

“What’ve you got for me?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to watch as much of the coverage of the fight outside the GRC vote as I can, trying to get a sense of how they’re spinning Walker’s reappearance, the legacy of the Flag-Smashers now that Karli and her inner circle are gone… Anyway, there’s a lot of footage and you’re at the center of most of it.”

“Guess the new suit draws the eye. And the cameras.” It’s no surprise to Sam. Part of the job of being Captain America.

“Yeah, but…”

“What is it, Torres?”

“Bucky’s in the background a lot,” he explains in a voice that tells Sam there’s more Torres isn’t saying.

“Makes sense. He was in the thick of it as much as I was.”

“He’s there at the end too. When you were talking to the Senator about power and the common struggle. Man, that was a great speech. Do you think—”

“Torres. Please. The point.”

“Right, for sure, man. Bucky never takes his eyes off you.”

That flusters Sam for a second. He wasn’t expecting the blunt delivery, especially of those words. He squints down at the water where it’s lapping the side of the dock. He knew Bucky was there; they spoke right after, when Bucky tried to feed him that bullshit (and he knew it was bullshit at the time) about texting and missing the exact speech Torres is apparently still hung up on.

“So Bucky was actually listening to me,” Sam says carefully. “That’s a surprise, but it isn’t really the kind of thing that’s significant enough for you to bother notifying me about, is it?”

“I’d say that depends on what you consider significant.”

“Torres.”

“I know, but he’s not just listening! It’s how he’s looking at you!”

“Like he’s wishing I would wrap it up?” Oh, Sam remembers Bucky’s miracle from their session with Dr. Raynor.

“Like he’s totally into you! Major heart eyes. Sir,” Torres hastily adds.

And Sam should reprimand him for this. Calling with a trivial piece of information when he must know Sam’s already being very selective about which of the hundreds of recent calls (and it’d be more if more people had this number) he chooses to pick up. Calling to speculate on how Bucky was staring at Sam that night in New York.

“I don’t need to tell you this is gonna be one of those investigations we keep between you and me,” Sam states.

“For sure. I just thought maybe you’d wanna know.”

“Uh huh. You get any real news, you pass it along.”

“I will.”

Sam ends the call and turns. He looks to his right: the sparkling river. His left: his people, all the way down to the squirt with the glasses who’s hanging off a metal arm, and the man that arm belongs to.

He’s felt it, the way that Bucky stares. It’s not like it used to be though, when it irked Dr. Raynor at the police station in Baltimore, or confused Walker and Hoskins in the back of that jeep in Germany. This new stare of Bucky’s isn’t one Sam’s ever caught him doing. Bucky hasn’t quite let him. That’s actually how Sam noticed it was happening—Bucky would immediately glance away instead of leaving that dead expression on his face when Sam met his eye. Now that he has proof of it, proof he’s certain Torres would send him footage of in an instant if he asked, he’s scared to look.

Instead, he watches Bucky look at other people. Like Sarah. Like kids from the neighbourhood. His literal hangers-on disperse as Sam observes, scattered after Bucky leans towards them to say something. Sam sees half his smile and even that much has his heart swelling up in his chest. Bucky weaves through the tables and standing groups, the dancers and the kids who’ve broken out a skipping rope. (After eating from that buffet? Kids are crazy. Gonna make themselves sick.)

Without thinking too hard about it, Sam returns to the noise and the smells, trailing Bucky with a stealthy eye on his ass in those jeans. There’s no friction here between him and everybody else Sam cares about, he can see that in every short, friendly exchange someone engages Bucky in as he walks. Things flow as smoothly as the butter oozing off the corn Sam reluctantly gave up. Clearly, they remember Bucky from when he was here helping with the boat. They respect him. They like him. They’ve gotten to that last thing faster than Sam has, which makes Sam feel a little embarrassed as well as a little overwhelmed by how much the two of them have actually been through. He’s seen Bucky as a mindless killer and it almost brings a genuine tear to his eye—here on this glorious day in front of all these folks—to see the dork who rushed out to get his hands on a copy of The Hobbit in 1937 return in his current form as the dork who’ll take a fake punch from AJ and blush over brazen old women telling him how handsome he is.

Bucky stares different? Well. Sam feels different about the staring.

Sam keeps his distance until Bucky reaches the food, then his stomach gurgles a reminder than he hasn’t eaten yet. No ass is nice enough to distract him from his meal. He sidles up beside him and Bucky seems unsurprised, not even glancing over.

“Anything important?” he asks.

“What?”

“Your phone call,” Bucky clarifies, adding a heap of glossy green beans to his plate. Damn, those are some of Sam’s favourite. Bucky better not take all of them. “They need us somewhere?”

“Oh. No.”

Bucky shoots him a suspicious look after this stilted response, but he doesn’t say anything until Sam grabs a plate of his own, hungry eyes roving the feast that’s diminishing now that people have started coming back for second helpings.

“Put that down,” Bucky instructs. He doesn’t wait; he takes the plate out of Sam’s hand and tosses it back towards the pile. Thankfully, the plates are made of paper.

“Buzz off, man,” Sam tells him, reaching for the plate again. “I’m starving.”

“I figured.”

Wait.

“That’s for me?” he guesses, gazing longingly at the plate Bucky’s preparing.

“Yep.”

When Sam doesn’t reply, Bucky pauses with the plate in one hand and a serving spoon in the other and sighs.

“I didn’t want you to miss the good stuff. This party’s for you.”

“I think it might be for both of us.”

Bucky seems too self-conscious to say anything to that. He goes back to loading up Sam’s plate while Sam quietly feels his throat close up with emotion as he watches. He clears it gruffly.

“I woulda had to eat the cake you brought,” he jokes. “Pretty sure only the really little kids have eaten any. You know, people who don’t know better.”

“I was tryin’ to be a good guest.”

“I can’t believe you brought a store-bought cake,” Sam says, laughing as he grabs a set of cutlery for the second time and continuing to shuffle along next to Bucky.

“Have you ever seen me cook?”

“…No.”

“Exactly. Trust me, what I did was kinder.”

“If you say so.”

“You know what, Sam?” Bucky demands challengingly, turning to face him. “I do say so.”

Sam’s eyes go from the plate Bucky’s holding between them up to Bucky’s face. He’s close. And he’s got this look, this dancing look in his eyes that undercuts the shit out of the hard line of his eyebrows. Trying to seem all stern. All Sam can think for several seconds is that, if he just grabbed Bucky by the chain around his neck and hauled him forward, they’d never get the food stains out of their clothes. But their laundry would smell delicious.

He clears his throat.

“Then you better stay for a while.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitches up and he hands Sam the plate he’s prepared for him.

“I plan to.”

When Sam picks a table to sit at, he makes sure there’s enough room for Bucky too. When Bucky sits next to him, he sits so close that their thighs press together and claims that’s all the space there is. Bucky talks and laughs when other people at the table talk to him. He’s easily drawn into conversation now and Sam feels weirdly proud of having brought this great guy home to meet everybody, even if he’s not here like that. People tells stories about last week and last century interchangeably, one old smartass making Bucky howl with laughter when they toss out a memory of Little Sam Wilson streaking from his house to the river for a naked swim. This is the danger of welcoming Bucky into the community. Sam, suppressing a smile, doesn’t really mind.

Elbows up on the table so he can eat, talk, and gesture emphatically with his fork, Sam feels Bucky’s stare creeping up on him. Slow, like the sun slides across the landscape when the clouds blow past. Bucky didn’t make this food, but Sam can feel his satisfaction as he watches Sam accept what he provided. Feels like there are grasshoppers springing around in his stomach. He still has a roll on his plate, one side soaked in family-secret barbecue sauce, and he tears it in half. While the rest of their table are caught up in some story being boisterously told by overlapping voices, Sam turns to Bucky and wordlessly offers the bread, edges dimpled where he gripped to split it. They watch each other chew and Sam’s closed mouth is smiling.

Inevitably, somebody pulls Sam back into the conversation and he does his best to laugh and heckle, covering the fact that he wasn’t listening, that he dropped the thread. The voices rise and rise and fall like water slopping over the side of a bucket.

In the next quiet moment, Bucky inclines toward him slightly and says, “You wanna talk later?”

And Sam says, “Sure.”

The day feels long, long, long, and Sam’s face gets sore from smiling, tired from talking. He does not confess that to Bucky, who’s almost always at his side. Lights go on overhead and beers come out of coolers, leftover food packed up and redistributed among neighbours, small children with drooping eyelids toted home. At first, Sam thinks Bucky’s leaning into his side because he’s drained from so much socializing too, but when he meets his eye, he just sees an invitation.

“Where are you two goin’?” Sarah asks when they slink past her carrying a too-big Cass in her arms.

“Just walkin’,” Sam tells her.

“Gotta stretch our legs,” Bucky contributes.

She looks from Sam to Bucky and back, smiling knowingly.

“Uh huh,” Sarah says.

Sam grabs Bucky by the shoulder to turn him forcibly away from his sister’s insinuations and just… forgets to let his hand fall as they wander along the water. Bucky’s steps angle towards his until his arm’s bumping Sam’s side, Sam’s arm slung around his shoulders. Is this still the body language of a couple buddies on a warm Delacroix night? Is it now, when Sam drops his arm and brushes the back of his hand across Bucky’s?

They leave the party lights on the horizon with the lazily setting sun, scrabbling off the end of the dock and onto the riverbank. Sam reaches up to give Bucky a hand down, so he won’t step in the soft mud and sink to his ankles. Bucky clasps his hand firmly and jumps.

The sound of people drops off down here and the sound of wind in grass, frogs hiding between reeds, rises.

“Are there alligators in here?” Bucky wonders, scanning the river’s edge.

Sam laughs.

“For sure.”

“And you swam here when you were a kid?”

“Even then,” Sam boasts, puffing his chest out, “my courage was legendary.”

“Yeah, and your nudity. Is there anyone within a mile of here who hasn’t seen your bare ass?”

Their eye contact holds. Oh right. Sam breaks away with an awkward, hiccupping laugh, directing his gaze at the dirt.

“The gators haven’t gathered too close to the dock in decades,” he promises Bucky. He stares out at the undisturbed water, enjoying the sun on his face. “Got skittish of the boats. Most of ’em, anyway.”

“Consider me not entirely reassured.”

“You scared of a little Louisiana lizard, man? Didn’t you grow up with Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

“Nah, that was after my time.”

“Damn, you’re old.”

Bucky snorts a laugh, refusing to look at him.

“You wanna take a dip?” Sam goads.

“No.”

But by the time Sam’s pulling his shirt over his head, Bucky’s peeling off his socks. Sam spares him a smile and keeps going, the ground soft underfoot. It could be like the few times they’ve changed in proximity to one another before, but it’s not. He senses Bucky’s eyes on him the whole time. Face hot, he takes a quick look in Bucky’s direction as he’s unzipping his jeans. His heart feels like his new suit—wings just waiting to unfurl.

When they’re down to their underwear, they wade in.

God, it feels nice. The water’s cool and the sun’s clinging to the horizon.

“Just don’t get any water in your mouth,” Sam instructs, then dunks his face and comes up squirting water at Bucky from between the gap in his front teeth, a trick he perfected as a kid. “That arm ain’t gonna rust, right?”

“You asked for this,” Bucky warns. He points a menacing finger and plunges below the surface.

Sam twists as he treads water, trying to see what’s going on down there, searching for a ripple or bubbles of released air. His legs move in twitchy kicks because that’s where he’s expecting Bucky to grab him. But the idiot is playing some kind of psychological game first, making Sam wait a full minute. Two minutes. Three.

He’s opening his mouth to call out Bucky’s name when he breaks the surface. Sam’s ready to swap the concern he was about to form into words into a taunt instead—did Bucky get down there and decide the scariest thing he could do was let Sam’s imagination take over?—until Bucky shakes his head and slicks his hair back. Then the words get caught in Sam’s throat and he just kinda stares.

“There was a really gross fish down there,” Bucky informs him. “Do you guys have eels there? Mighta been an eel. Maybe we should get out.”

“Alrighty, scaredy-cat, let’s get you to shore.”

Bucky propels himself out in front, arms moving in powerful strokes, and Sam’s hand darts out on instinct, fingers closing around Bucky’s hard calf muscle. Bucky jerks and Sam burst into loud laughter.

“Did you think that was an eel? Did you?”

“You’re lucky I…”

I’m lucky you what? Sam wants to ask when Bucky trails off, but he just swims after him.

During their game/possible eel panic (there’s no way it was an eel), they weren’t always fighting the current, so they’ve drifted downstream some. Bucky takes sloppy, sloshing steps out of the water, underwear that might’ve been light grey now dark and plastered to his ass. Sam feels like he’s choked on river water, though his mouth is dry. He lumbers out too and they begin the march back in the direction of the dock and their clothes. The water tickles as it runs down Sam’s legs; must be bugging Bucky too because he plucks his waistband away from his skin before letting it snap back. Clenching his jaw, Sam stops himself from trying to see too much.

This end of the dock is made of old boards before it transitions to pavement farther down, wood smooth on Sam’s feet when he and Bucky haul themselves up, dropping their collected clothes and shoes into a single pile. No point getting dressed until they’re dry, so they sit on the edge of the dock, feet swinging. Feels good. Feels home. They don’t speak until the sun’s set, the sky orange, then grey, then rich, velvety blue.

“You know, don’t you?” Bucky asks softly.

“Know?”

“Yeah, you know. Whenever you don’t know something, you talk and talk—”

“Sometimes I can work through a problem better if I vocalize,” Sam explains.

“But when you do know,” Bucky goes on, ignoring Sam’s input, “you’re quiet.” He looks at Sam. “You’re quiet.”

What else is Sam? Nervous. His skin’s prickling with it, and because even the warm air feels cold when he’s just climbed out of the river. There’s a wet patch spreading around him that he can barely see with evening rapidly deepening into night. He lifts a hand from the dock and sweeps it up his neck, brushing water droplets away.

Without glancing over, he says, “You’re doing that thing you do.”

“What?”

“Staring. That new stare you do.”

“Maybe,” Bucky acknowledges. A bird starts calling, the sound drifting in and away like the sway of a hypnotist’s watch and Bucky’s silent until it’s over. “Maybe I’m staring for the same reason you’re quiet.”

Sam waits. Bucky doesn’t add anything, so Sam turns to look at his face, hung with cool shadows.

“You’re not gonna say it, are you?”

“I thought you would say it,” Bucky argues defensively.

“You’re the one who’s been staring at me like that for a week. You should go first!”

“Please, you don’t even know how I’m staring at you, I only do it when you’re not looking.”

“Do it now then and see what happens,” Sam dares him.

“Fine.”

Just like that, Bucky locks in like Sam’s attention is the only handhold on a sheer cliffside. Vital and stable, a last chance, the one thing around him that wants to help him higher instead of watching him fall. A lot of that’s familiar from his regular hard stare, but then something opens up behind his eyes. Some fragile thing (that might be Bucky’s sense of caution) breaks. Suddenly, Sam’s seeing what Joaquin saw in the news footage and amateur cell phone video. Except he’s seeing it two feet in front of him. It’s intense. It makes the air a little harder to breathe.

Bucky’s lips curve into a smile, then part as he says, “I love—”

Hopefully, he wasn’t going to end that sentence with ‘store-bought cake,’ because Sam can’t really take back his reaction. The finger slipping behind Bucky’s ear as he cradles his face, the mouth sealed to his. Especially that. Thankfully, Bucky kisses him back, just as hard, and then harder.

“Thank god,” Sam pants when they break apart.

“You interrupted me.”

“I got you to stop talking? Guess we’re in my miracle.”

“I’d complain…” Bucky shrugs. “…but your miracle is pretty nice.”

“Not bad, right?”

He sighs and looks out over the water. Bucky pushes up on his fists and sits closer, offering his hand for Sam to interlace their fingers.

“Hey,” Sam prompts when it hits him that it’s super dark outside and they aren’t gonna dry much more like this, “did you book a hotel room again?”

“You kiddin’ me? I spent all my money on that cake.”

Sam laughs.

“Right, well, I guess you need a place to stay tonight then.”

“You know anything nearby?” Bucky asks with a soft smile.

Getting to his feet and bracing to pull Bucky up after him, Sam uses his free hand to motion towards their clothing pile.

“Put your pants on,” he says, “and I’ll see what I can do.”

#my writing #tfatws #tfatws spoilers #The Falcon and the Winter Soldier #CAPTAIN AMERICA AND THE WINTER SOLDIER #Sam Wilson #Bucky Barnes #Joaquin Torres #Sarah Wilson #sambucky #Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes

170 notes · View notes

pascalpanic · 4 years ago

Note

hey babe you’re the best ily very much, not to be wild but ah ha ha... may i make i request please? 🥺🥺 i’m feeling extra self indulgent so maybe just a bit of fluff? (with whatever pedro boy you’re feelin) where like, fem! rc is rlly insecure about her laugh (like i snort and laugh so loud it’s not even funny i get so nervous laughing around people skdjdjjd) so because of that he’s never really seen her let go so he’s like “no i really wanna make you laugh” and yes. stay hydrated and you’re wonderful :D

Mesh’la Kaab (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: You confide to your Mandalorian that you hate your laugh. That sets Din on a mission to hear your real, true laugh.

W/C: 2.8k

Warnings: mentions of food, but that’s all. let me know if I missed any or you’d like me to tag anything in here. Reader is called “mama” in reference to Grogu, din is called “daddy” but in reference to being Grogu’s dad.

A/N: you guys, this is the cutest fluff ever. I love Din with my entire soul. Sunny and I worked together a little to add a few things unique to her but it should be relevant to anyone! I hope u guys like it :))

mesh’la kaab- beautiful sound

A giggle rings out throughout the Razor Crest, pinging off the walls and making its way into the cockpit.

There was a lot of other noise going on down there, Mando could tell, but it’s your laugh that makes his face warm under his helmet. He listens more carefully, trying to tell exactly what’s going on.

What was going on, exactly, was chaos. Mando’s little green son had gotten hold of your ukulele and was deciding to mimic his mama, you. You often sang and played the ukulele around the ship, bringing music and light into the cold, metallic space. It was part of what Mando loved most about you, what brought him comfort when you thought he couldn’t hear you.

Mando had brought you on board a few months ago, and your soft and warming nature caused him to let his guard down almost immediately. He’d never been a touchy man, never one to cuddle or give keldabe kisses, but you stole his heart the moment he saw your smile.

Over time, your relationship with Mando had warmed. He’d press his hand to the small of your back as he walked past, let his ungloved fingertips brush over your hands. You were soft and kind and all he wanted.

He gave in a few weeks into your stay. He told you he cared for you, that he liked you, and a relationship had blossomed. He’d wrap his arms around you when he returned from a job, pressing his forehead to yours. He’d turn off all of the lights in the ship and press soft kisses to your lips and forehead and the tip of your nose. He’d sleep in your bunk with you and the child, pulling you to his chest and murmuring how much you meant to him. Helmetless, shirtless. Human again.

You’d learned his name late one night, his lips next to your ear- Din. It was one simple syllable, soft yet strong, a beautiful sound when his raspy voice was unmodulated. The child cooed, waking from his slumber, crawling between the two of you and nestling in. “That’s right, baby boy. Your daddy’s name is Din,” you’d hummed, pressing a soft kiss to the baby’s head and stroking his large green ears. The three of you were family now.

Din was a romantic at heart, bringing you gifts from missions and holding you gently as he traces his fingertips across your collarbones and neck while you slept. One thing he didn’t have, you had come to realize, was a sense of humor- at least, not one you understood. It was there, you supposed, but dry. Sarcastic quips. Words with double-meanings. A joke that had to be explained after he said it. You were happy, he knew that, but you rarely laughed.

That’s part of what transfixes him as he hears your giggle for the first time. It’s not a hard, tear-wrenching, gut-bursting laugh, but it’s a beautiful sound. Just as melodic as your beautiful voice when you sing along with your ukulele.

Din climbs down from the cockpit. You can’t see his face but his body is relaxed- he’s happy. You look up at him with a grin. “Your son thinks he wants to be a musician,” you tease, holding the ukulele above your head, sitting cross-legged on an old cape of his.

The baby is trying to climb up on you, little green hands grabbing at your shirt in an attempt to reach the ukulele again. It makes Din’s heart warm, the way the son he had come to love is playing with the woman who makes his heart soar. “Really?” He asks, sitting down across from you and tilting his head.

“Really. And I must say, he’s not a very good one,” you tease the child, setting the ukulele down next to you and scooping your baby up in your arms. You press a soft kiss to his head and squeeze him against your chest. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Maybe the two of you would perform for me. I’ve been told I’m a good judge of talent,” he offers in that tone where you can tell he’s teasing, but it’s with all of the love in his heart.

You look down at the baby and raise an eyebrow. “Well, baby boy? Should we show your daddy how wonderful you are?” you ask with excitement in your tone. The baby coos excitedly and nods. He’s starting to pick up on the human mannerisms that you and his father display. “Okay, let’s show him.” You set the ukulele in your lap, one hand on the fretboard. You set the child in front of you. “I’ll do the part up here, you play with the strings and sing for him, okay?” You instruct the baby, who giggles excitedly.

You look up at Din with a smile, and you can tell he’s smiling back. “Go for it, ad’ika,” Din tells the child.

His son agrees. He randomly plucks at the strings and squeals loudly. It’s utter cacophony, the farthest thing from music, but the little green baby seems to think it’s a masterpiece. He coos and shouts, little hands grabbing at the strings with no particular rhyme or reason.

You giggle but play around with the frets, letting the child choose his strings. He ends his song with a final shriek and you bite your lip to hold back from bursting into honest-to-god laughter. “Good job, bean!” You coo happily, clapping your hands.

Din claps too, leather-covered hands muffling the noise. “You’re a fantastic musician, kid,” he tells the little green child, who runs and jumps into his father’s lap, cuddling against his chest. “You have a beautiful laugh,” he tells you honestly, looking up at you and stroking the kid’s head.

You shake your head and look down at the ukulele, playing a few chords that come to mind. “That’s not my real laugh,” you admit, staring down at the instrument. “My laugh is really ugly. It sounds like a blurrg in labor.”

Din shakes his head, chuckling softly at the comparison. “I can’t possibly think you’d have an ugly laugh, ner mesh’la,” he tells you, resting a hand on your knee.

“Oh, it is. And you don’t wanna hear it,” you inform him, looking up at him.

“There’s not a thing about you that could be ugly,” he tells you, his voice sincere and solid. “I want to hear your laugh.”

“Then you’ll have to be funny for once, Din,” you tease, a small smile growing on your face. You stand, pressing a kiss to the top of his helmet and moving away to put your ukulele back in its case.

That’s the moment Din decides he’s going to make you laugh, in a way that you can’t possibly hold back. It’s a mission.

Later that night, you cook dinner for your little family. It’s makeshift at best, a tiny portable flame that you had found in a junk shop on Nevarro, but you have to admit it’s charming. You sauté some vegetables, native from your current planet, that you picked up today. The smell wafts to the cockpit, where Din is fiddling with an electrical wiring problem. He can’t smell it, not with the helmet, but the child can.

The baby coos at his father and tugs on his pant leg, gesturing towards the ladder. He wants to get down. “What is it, ad’ika?” He asks gruffly, nodding once he sees where the child points.

Din climbs down the ladder with the baby in tow, smiling as he sees you lost in your own little world.

You’re surprisingly good with electronics, Din discovered after he took you on board, and you’d found that the Razor Crest has a stereo system. It had become your pet project, and now some music was drifting through the hull of the ship. He stands there for a second and smiles at the way you dance around and cook the food, the pan sizzling. It’s a beautiful sight.

This is the perfect moment, Din thinks. Someone as caring and unguarded as you must be ticklish. Setting down the child and making a gesture for him to be quiet, Din quietly creeps behind you. He has no armor on except his helmet now, allowing him to be stealthy.

He creeps up behind you, fingers wiggling along your sides. Nothing happens except you squealing in surprise and whipping around in his arms. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You exclaim as you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Just, uh… wanted to see if you were ticklish,” he admits, wrapping his arms around you fully now.

“Well, I’m not,” you roll your eyes, tossing your arms around his neck and looking up at him.

“You’re trying to hear my witch’s cackle, aren’t you?” You ask teasingly, smiling contently at the man holding you.

He shrugs lightly. “Maybe.”

“Din,” you coo and press a kiss to his cold beskar cheek. “Well, I’m almost done cooking. You might as well stay down here,” you tell him and start swaying him along to the music playing. It’s nice; he dances along with you. “You can come out, green bean,” you call to the child.

The child squeals as he jumps out from around a corner, and you mock surprise, jumping. “Oh my Maker, you almost gave me a heart attack,” you cry out to the child, who giggles excitedly. “C’mere, baby,” you laugh and pick him up, holding him between you and Din as you sway along to the music. “You and your daddy are a handful,” you coo to him and press a kiss to the baby’s head.

“I’m going to get it out of you,” Din declares.

“Sure you are, Djarin,” you roll your eyes and smile softly, pressing your forehead to his in a keldabe kiss. “You know I’m happy here, right? I really couldn’t be any happier. I have you and the kid and I get to travel the galaxy with my two favorite boys.”

He nods. “Of course I do. It’s just… happy people laugh more.”

“I laugh plenty. When you tell me a bad joke, when the kid does something stupid.”

“You giggle or you chuckle. You never laugh.

“Neither do you.”

Din thinks on it for a second. “I suppose that’s true,” he nods in acknowledgment.

“Then you don’t need to make it such a mission, ner verd,” you tease, a loving smile on your face. You break away, keeping the child in your arms as you walk back to the vegetables. “Looks like the food is ready.”

It doesn’t come the way he wants it to, but Din finally makes you laugh.

Two days later, you’re dancing around with the baby in the hull of the ship, singing to the child’s favorite song. He squeals along, waving his little hands in the air and spinning in circles. “Din, come down here,” you call out happily.

“Little busy,” a gruff voice shouts back from the cockpit.

“Din Djarin, you get your tin-can head down here!”

“Later, ner kar’ta.”

You pout and pick up the baby, heading off to the refresher with the child. You suppose it’s time for a bath for the green bean anyway. You change the song and hum along, undressing the child from his tiny brown robes and filling the sink with warm water. You drizzle some of your shampoo into the water, making the top fill with bubbles.

The child giggles excitedly as you place a rubber ewok in the water. “I know! Isn’t it exciting?” You coo to him, nuzzling your face into his fuzzy little green head. “Oh, you’re going to smell so nice for your buir. Even if he can’t smell you with that tin can on his head. When we cuddle tonight, he’ll just want to eat you up,” you tease, your nose scrunching with a smile.

When the sink is properly filled, you place the child in it. It’s deep enough to reach just below his armpits, and he splashes around tranquilly. “I know, isn’t it fun?” you laugh softly, scrubbing him down with a bright green sponge in the shape of a frog.

Getting the baby’s head wet is a challenge. He doesn’t like the feeling, so you know you have to get creative. You grab the little rubber ewok and hold it up. “You want it?” You ask, and he nods. You drag it around beneath the water and he tries to grab it, dunking his head under. Perfect. He takes it from your hand and pops back up giggling. “Good job, squirt!” you coo and rub his head with the sponge.

You dry him with a fluffy towel when you’re done and redress him in a new set of clothing, smiling. “You’re such a cutie,” you murmur and press a kiss to his head. “I love you, you know that?”

And somehow, you know he knows. He can tell, and you can tell he loves you too.

My mama, my protector, she plays with me and feeds me and snuggles with me. Love. Love love love my mama and my buir. Buir is shiny and quiet but he loves me and sneaks me snacks after bedtime when mama’s sleeping and boops me on the nose and wraps me up in his cape when it’s cold.

You’re taken aback by the sensation before Din descends down the ladder from the cockpit. He walks over to the two of you, giving you a keldabe kiss before heading to the ‘fresher. Clearing your throat, you clear the thought from your mind. You must’ve imagined it. “Well, let’s get ready for bed,” you tell the child. The water runs in the ‘fresher- Din must be showering. You change into a pair of comfortable clothes then turn off the lights and get into the bunk with the child.

“Are the lights off?” He calls.

“Yes, love,” you shout back. Din emerges from the refresher and snuggles into bed with you and your son. His hair is damp and his face is clean-shaven, you can feel both when you reach for him as the bed dips with his weight. “Hi there,” you smile and press a soft kiss to his lips.

“Hi,” he chuckles and kisses you a little deeper for a moment. Your hand drifts to his side- he’s shirtless, leaving him only in pants- and his finds your chest, pressing a hand over your heart. The moment is disrupted as one three-fingered hand finds each of your faces and pushes you apart. “Hello, ad’ika,” Din laughs, grabbing the child and snuggling him between the two of you. He presses a soft kiss to the baby’s head, you can hear it, and breathes in deeply. “Mm, your mama gave you a bath.”

“Sure did,” you chuckle. You know Din loves the smell of your shampoo; it reminds him of when you first showered in the Crest, and his helmet was off when he went to the ‘fresher next and it smelled clean and soft and feminine and beautiful.

“Maybe your mama will have to give me a bath sometime,” he murmurs as he kisses your face.

It’s the single most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard the man say. Before you can help yourself, a genuine laugh bursts forth from your throat. It’s loud and obnoxious, making you wiggle and wheeze and even snort. It’s a cackle, almost, but it’s the most beautiful noise Din Djarin has ever heard. He starts laughing along too, burying his face in your chest, chest heaving. Even the child joins in on the giggles, even though he doesn’t know why.

The three of you lie like that for a minute, wheezing hard and breathing heavily. The laughter ends and you find yourself catching your breath, Din’s face still buried in your chest. His nose nudges between your breasts and you stroke the back of his head, giving a soft giggle. You feel yourself flood with the warmth of embarrassment as you realize you just let loose such an ugly sound. “Din-”

“Don’t even try to apologize, ner mesh’la,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss over your breast, where your heart lies. “That was the most beautiful noise I’ve ever heard.”

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. “It’s you being happy, the sound of me making you smile. What could be better than that?” He asks before capturing your lips in a slow kiss. “I’m never going a day without making you laugh again.”

Mando’a translations:

ner kar’ta- my heart

ner verd- my warrior

buir- parent (gender neutral word)

ner mesh’la- beautiful

ad’ika- little one

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #din and grogu #grogu #baby yoda

262 notes · View notes

jadedxrealityw · 4 years ago

Text

-Amortentia- Blaise Zabini x Female Reader

☼-☪-☼

Kody: BLAISEEEEEEE DADDY- im sorry. yeah yeah i’m changing the canonical storyline- cry about it. I’m also fully aware Amortentia does not work like this lmao.

Request: you can make the summary short and less revealing for more fun hehe. Also it's totally up to you, dear! Only if you feel comfortable with it and no pressure! I hope you had a great weekend and drink more water ily <3 - 💐

House: Hufflepuff

Possible Triggers / Warnings: Slight slut shaming in the beginning, Draco being a little shit,

☼-☪-☼

you had been alone most of your life with your parents being on constant business trips from the ministry that would last for months on end. You were practically raised by your nanny, but she couldn’t teach you everything. You became socially awkward.

you never had any friends back at home which meant you had no experience communicating with people your age. You were walking awkwardness basically. It came at no surprise when you were sorted into Hufflepuff, even though both your parents were Slytherins- they weren’t disappointed in you though.

you had just managed to scramble by through your first four years of school. Four long years without any friends, but you didn’t mind. You could get by just by yourself. You were a strong independent woman and knew how to get yourself out of sticky situations.

unless it was stuck up Hufflepuff’s- then you were screwed

one fine day in your fourth year you were heading to the quidditch field so you could go watch the game. Slytherin against Hufflepuff. They were both tied at two wins against each other so you were eager to see who would win. You wore a brown buttoned sweater with a nice pear of tan overalls.

the fallen leaves under your foot made a satisfying crack noise as you walked along the field. The cheers and other various sounds of students were definitely drawing nearer. You popped another flavour bean into your mouth when a harsh push came to your shoulder, causing the box of flavour beans to fall.

you watched as they spilled out onto the grass with a look of solemn in your eyes “Dang- that was my last box” you mumble before a couple of snickers were heard in front of you. You look up to see three students wearing their regular Hufflepuff robes with there own casual clothes underneath.

“Drop something?” one asked. A girl with light brown bobbed hair and green eyes spoke. You nod once “Uh yeah, just my flavour beans. I- uh i can just buy new ones” you spoke, already starting to clam up “Your a hufflepuff aren’t you? Why aren’t you wearing yellow?” the girl asked somewhat accusingly.

alert alert. Confrontation detected. Activate escape protocol 17B

you didn’t answer and went to walk past them when another one of the three, a blond boy with blue eyes pushed you back to where you were standing. Shit. You fold your arms over your chest, looking at the ground “Your one of those Slytherin groupies are you, a house traitor?” the brown haired girl accused.

you opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. This made the two Hufflepuffs more annoyed “What? Cant speak? Let me guess, your like those Draco fangirls. Sweetie. Your def not pretty enough for him” she adds, making the boy aside her laugh.

did she just say def? Have you ever even talked to Draco Malfoy? Not the time to be thinking about that. “I uh-” before you could speak anymore the girl held up her hand “Don’t even try to defend yourself, Slut” you went wide eyed. No one has ever been so nasty to you.

“I’ve never seen two Hufflepuffs go at one of their own, before” a girls laugh came from behind you. She had black shoulder length hair and bangs with brown eyes. Pansy Parkinson. In front of her was two boys dressed in Slytherin Quidditch uniforms.

You quickly identify the platinum blond boy with pale skin as Draco Malfoy. The hair was always a dead give away and the other boy was slightly taller then him with dark skin. He was very handsome for a boy your age. What was his name again? Oh! Blaise- Blaise Zabini.

“For Hufflepuff’s you two are quite nasty” Draco spoke, a grin playing on his lips. The boy Hufflepuff rolled his eyes “Yeah whatever Malfoy, what’re you going to do. Tell your father?” that struck a nerve in the young Malfoy as he went to lunge at them until Blaise put a arm out, blocking Draco.

“Now, Now. Let’s not get physical. You see, me and my fellow housemates overheard your very deplorable conversation with this what seems like sweet girl. Honestly, how can you bully someone who can’t even get a word in?” Blaise spoke in such a proper way that you almost couldn’t tell he was insulting them.

the girl and boy were silent as he spoke for a while until the girl spoke up once more “Oh so she’s one of your play things, Zabini?” she questions with a smug look. Blaise’s neutral expression switched into a disgusted one “I don’t have play things. I actually have respect for other woman”

Blaise didn’t let them get another word in before he stepped in front of you “Are you alright? They didn’t hurt you did they?” he asked, using his hand to lift your chin and inspect your face. Touching- “No” you say in a meek voice. He nods once with a small smile “Good, now let’s go”

you tilt your head sto side. Go? “Um- go where?” you ask. Blaise gestures towards the quidditch field “The game of course. Me and Malfoy here have to get ready and you and Pansy will meet Theo in the Slytherin bleachers to watch the game of course.” as he spoke, Pansy skipped to your side, linking arms.

“Yeah! We can watch them make fools of themselves. Now lets go new friend!” Pansy said excitedly before practically dragged you towards the bleachers, leaving Draco and Blaise alone. The young Malfoy turned towards Blaise with a puzzled look “Since when did you involve yourself with Hufflepuffs?”

Blaise rolled his eyes before walking off, not answering his housemate

☼-☪-☼

7th year

after that day you became part of Blaise’s friend group. He’d talk to you as much as he talked to Theo, Pans, or Draco. Ask you how your day was, invite you to sit with him at lunch and even sneak you into the Slytherin house at times.

some people found it strange. A slytherin spending so much time with a Hufflepuff, but as stated Blaise didn’t care much of opinions hat didn’t come from his friends, but all his friends adored you. Case closed. It was around the end of sixth year is when your feelings changed from platonic to romantic.

you no longer saw him as your best friend that saved you from a bunch of nasty Hufflepuff’s all those years ago. You now saw him as someone you wanted to be with, all the time. To hold his hand, have him hold you, for him to just call you his. You fell hard.

but there was this fear, this fear that it would ruin everything you had with him. It was too great a risk, so like any normal person. You kept quiet as mouse and refused to let anyone know your feelings. Except for Pansy of course, but she found out on her own. Then told Draco, who told Theo.

everyone knew except Blaise actually

it was lunch and the Slytherins were waiting for you to arrive, Draco cleared his throat, getting the attention of the rest of them “I have a terribly good idea” he says, making Blaise look at him curiously “And that is?” he asked, leaning in to here what his housemate had to say.

Draco reaches into robe and pulls out a pink heart shaped bottle. “What in the hell? Why do you have a love potion?” Pansy asked with a amused chuckle. “Well- Y/n confessed to me that she had a crush on someone, but was too afraid to tell them. So i’m going to slip this into her drink to move her along”

Pansy and Theo both look at each other knowingly. They know full well that little ferret was lying. Y/n told Pansy first. What was he playing at? “That is so wrong on so many levels, Malfoy” Blaise spoke up first, looking at him in distaste.

“Hey! She told me that she wished she was more confident so she could tell this person there feelings. I’m being a good friend!” Draco retorted, another lie. Blaise face drops a little “Who even is this person she’s confessing to. It better not be some low life Gryffindor” Blaise grumbles.

Pansy’s eyebrow wiggles “Is that jealousy i here, Zabini?” she teases. Blaise rolls his eyes before looking back at his plate “Y/n can like whoever she want’s” he grumbles. “Really? ‘Cause your stabbing your steak” Pansy asked, leaning over across the table.

Blaise was indeed repeating jabbing at his food with his fork “I will use the slug-vomiting charm on you” he spoke, gritting his teeth. Pansy just smiled innocently “Cursing Pan’s i see” a voice came from behind him. Blaise turned his head around to see you, holding a textbook “Sorry i was late, got caught up”

you take a seat next to Blaise, seeing a full plate and water put out for you “Thanks for saving me some food?” you say with a small smile. “I did actually, because i’m your favorite” Draco gives you a sweet smile, one that you laugh nervously at “Uh- sure?” you reply.

☼-☪-☼

once finished your food, you reached for the cup of water and took a sip. As you go and place it down you notice that they were all staring at you? “What?” you ask and Theo gives you a smile “Feel any different?” he asked. You purse your lips together and slowly shake your head “No, i feel alright”

Draco huffs and places his head in his hand. You look over at Blaise who had went back to eating his food. You notice something on the corner of his mouth and grab the napkin on your table. Reaching up you wipe away the food on the corner of his mouth.

Blaise flinches and grabs your hand “What’re you doing?” he asked, gazing down at you. You snicker a bit at his reaction and gently tug your arm out of his grip “You had something on your mouth, didn’t want it to mess up your handsome face” you reply.

Pansy chokes on her water, which turns into a coughing fit. Blaise stared at you blankly, just blinking mindlessly while Draco punched the air.

☼-☪-☼

now, mind you. A typical love potion last up to 24 hours, but Draco being the idiot he was accidently poured half the bottle into your drink. So it was safe to say it was going to last more than a day. “Your a bloody fool, Malfoy!” Blaise exclaims.

“I didn’t mean to pour half of it! Someone bumped into me!” Draco retorts while both Theo and Pansy eat a box of flavour beans they were sharing, just casually watching the chaos unfold. “That my be true, but you still served it to her! You took advantage of her vulnerability!” Blaise shouts back.

Draco’s face fell, yeah could be a little prick sometimes, but he also cared about you deeply. He couldn’t tell Blaise he was your crush, but he could try to make it right. “I’ll make the antidote, but it will be a couple days” Blaise nods “Sorry for shouting” he says. Draco nods once before leaving the hallway.

“Hey guys” jeez- you just snuck up on people. Blaise steps towards you “Shouldn’t you be heading to charms class?” he asked, crossing his arms “What? Do you have her schedule memorized?” Pansy questions with a small laugh.

Blaise exhales deeply “I have a copy of it actually. Anyway-” he says and turns his attention back to you. “What do you need?” he asks, his tone changing to a more calm one. “Can you walk me to class?” you ask. Blaise raises a brow “Why?” he asked, not that he would have a problem.

“I want to spend more time with you” you spoke very nonchalantly. You almost wondered how you even spoke those words yourself. Blaise looks stunned for a moment, before a smile made a way to his face. This was just the potion talking, you were spewing nonsense he thought “As do i? Let’s get going shall we”

you smile brightly and grab his a=hand, interlocking your fingers. Blaise gives you a small nod before covering his mouth with his hands. Both Pansy and Theo watch them walk away “5 galleons Blaise confesses to Y/n by the end of this whole ordeal” Pansy points, chewing on a flavour bean.

Theo watched along her and nods “Your on, 10 galleons they both end up being friends again”

☼-☪-☼

it has been TWO days and Draco still hasn’t made the antidote. He claimed it was because he had to gather all the supplies without Snape around, which was probably true. Blaise had started to kind of- sort of- maybe- like the attention you were giving him.

oh yeah- surprise! Blaise had had a crush on you even longer then you did, he just knew how to keep his composure around you. It was easy for him, but it didn’t make him any less terrified of what would happen if those feelings were revealed.

currently, you were both sitting in the courtyard, studying on a bench, your choice. “I think that’s enough for the day. I’m surprised you asked me for my help. You usually never ask me for any academic advice” Blaise spoke, knowing full well why she asked him. The love potion.

you look up at him, closing the textbook in your hands “Well, you and Draco are the smartest people i know, but i prefer your company more” you smile lightly as you begin to cram the textbook into your bag. Blaise feels his heartbeat pick up once again.

It’s just the love potion. It’s just the love potion. It’s just the love potion. Think rationally Zabini! “I’m glad to hear that” he nods once. You both stand up from the bench and the curiosity gets the better of him. “So, what people have you’ve been talking too the past couple days?”

he wanted to know if you had actually been talking to your crush. So he could murder them talk to them man to man/woman. You shrug your shoulders “Just you guys, who else would i be talking to?” you spoke “Oh! i have an exam to take in potions! i’ll see you at dinner!”

you spoke with haste before leaning up to kiss his cheek “Bye Blaise!” and with that you ran off towards the entrance. Blaise held up his hand for a moment before exhaling “She’s- been only- talking to us? Who the hell is her crush then?” he thought aloud before picking up his things and walking away.

both Pansy and Theo pop up from behind the bushes “For a genius student, he sure is a idiot” Pansy spoke, eating the last bit of her cauldron cake. Theo nods “I thought Draco would be done with the antidote already?” he says. Pansy grinned evilly.

“Yeah...he should, but i keep hiding the ingredients. Blaise needs more time to realize she’s into him” she spoke, wiping her mouth off. Theo gasps and wacks her shoulder “That’s cheating! and you ate my last cauldron cake!” he sighs, crossing his arms.

“Yeah? Cry about it Nott”

☼-☪-☼

“It’s done!” a loud shout came from the dorm hallways of the Slytherin house towards the common room. Draco came running towards them, panting like a dog. “What’s done?” Pansy asked, sitting next to Theo eating a bowl of popcorn. No- they don’t know where she got it either.

“The antidote for Y/n’s love potion. It took so long because i kept misplacing everything. All we need to do is sneak it into her drink at dinner tonight” he explains. Blaise shot up from the loveseat he was sat on reading a book and snatched the vile from Draco. “Hey! What the hell?!”

“I’m not lying to Y/n anymore then i have to. I’ll catch up with you guys later” Blaise said before walking out the portrait door. “Alright that’s our cue!” Pansy and Theo stood up “What’re you guys doing?” Draco asked with a confused expression on his face.

“Spying on Blaise and Y/n to make sure they confess to each other” Theo explains, walking away with Pansy. Draco blinked a couple times before shaking his head “Guys that is such an invasion of there privacy and trust, they are our friends and we should be respectful......i’m coming with you”

bestie things i guess

☼-☪-☼

Blaise had just made it out the dungeons when he bumped into someone “Watch where your- oh Y/n. Why are you down here?” he asked. You chuckle and push away from him “I was going to see if Pansy wanted to have another sleepover, why are you out here? Dinner hasn’t started yet”

Blaise thinks of his next words before holding up the vile “I need you to drink this Y/n”

“What why?”

“Just do it”

“But-”

“If you trust me you will. I would never harm you”

“...Okay”

you grab the vile from his hand and pop the cork off. You look at the vile then Blaise who nods once. Exhaling, you pour the strange liquid down your throat, twinging at the unfamiliar taste. You feel almost a swirl around your chest before you look at Blaise again “What was that?”

Blaise places his hands on your shoulders, your face heating up slightly. Once again you were back being unnerved by this guy, but you didn’t notice “How do you feel about me Y/n?” he asked, making your E/c eyes widen a bit. “I’m sorry- come again?”

he sighs deeply and looks you in the eye. Ooo eye contact, scary. “the same i did yesterday?” you say vaguely. because who the hell asks that kind of question. Blaise lets go of your shoulders and rubs his face with his his hands. He was frustrated. “Y/n, how do you feel about me?”

you shrink at his gaze. The first thought that ran through your mind was that Pansy had snitched to him that you were in love with him “I’m so sorry- i didn’t want to tell you because i thought you would think i was weird!” you spurt out, confusing Blaise just a tad more.

“What are you talking about!?”

“Pansy told you about my crush on you didn’t she!?”

“Your what!?”

oh if the world could swallow you whole now “Oh merlin- i thought that’s what she told you!” you shout before trying to activate escape protocol 17B again and walk away. Blaise almost thought about letting you leave but you liked him! he was terrified you didn’t! but you do! So, why would he let you leave!?

he reaches back and grabs your arm, stopping you from walking any further “I get it. You don’t want to be friends anymore” you spoke sadly. Blaise stepped towards you, but you looked down at your feet instead of him “Your right, i don’t want to be friends anymore Y/n”

you felt your heart shatter. That was until one of his long arms wrapped around your waist and other pointed your chin up to look at him “I want you to be mine and i, yours” he spoke, a slight grin on his lips. Say what now? did Blaise Zabini just confess to you?

“Oh...”

“Is that all you have to say to that? I just spilled my heart out to you”

“What- what should i say?”

“Yes?...No?”

“Oh! yes- yes. Definitely yes! ”

“That’s a relief. I thought i had just made a full of myself”

“You are no fool Blaise Zabini”

Blaise gave you a small smile before leaning down. Oh shit. He stops midway, lips centimeters from yours “It is okay if i kiss you, correct?” he asks. We love a consent king. You nod slowly, making his smile grow wide before he presses his lips to yours.

“5 galleons you little shit, hand it over!” you both pull apart as three idiots come falling out a nearby broom closet. Pansy spilled her popcorn all over the hallway floor in the process. “Screw you Pansy, you cheated you pig!” Theo snaps back, Pansy hitting the back of his head “I am no pig!”

Draco was just lying face first on the floor, hoping no one would notice his presence. “Oh right pug-face!” Theo smirks. Pansy gasps before pulling out her wand “You are dead you queer!” she shouts. Theo pulled out his wand as well “You have a girlfriend, homo!” he shouts.

Pansy sputters for a moment “That’s besides the point!” they both circle each other as Draco picks himself off the floor “I shouldn’t have come” he mumbles, dusting off his robes. Both you and Blaise look at each other before bursting into laughter.

☼-☪-☼

Taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @sonbelleame @dracosathenaeum @pxroxide-prinxcesss

☼-☪-☼

Kody- I have no words for this other then- what the fuck did i just write? Anyways, peace!

268 notes · View notes

falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years ago

Text

Din Djaren x force sensitive reader - A Moment Of Bliss

Summary: You’re trying to meditate but your boys have other plans for you.

Warning: child being cute, fluff, SMUT, Din being the best space husband

Side note: wrote this before I learned the child’s name is Grogu, that is all.

Masterlist

You and your small clan of two have been stationed on a beautiful rolling grassland of a planet, ginormous stocky umbrella like trees sprouting from the flat land every couple miles from one another. They’re honestly quite the sight to behold, and something that you’re grateful for considering there’s no sand in sight. Honestly the most blessed thing of all that this wonderous planet has to offer, you can’t say you’re a real fan of the desert by any means.

Although you’re not exactly fond of the real reasoning why you’re here, it just so happened that Mando had gotten himself into some trouble when he captured the last bounty. A trafficking lord who just wasn’t as clever as he thought, earning himself some chains and a go around in a fun little thing called carbonite.

Nonetheless, his minions had tracked you two down after the bounty had been cashed in, slightly damaging the Razor Crest before Mando was able to lose them with some quick witted maneuvering. But you’re certain they’re still hunting you guys somewhere close by in the galaxy.

So for the time being, Din has decided for your band of three to lay low on this beautiful planet until he’s sure that the petty criminals have given up, or until you both get bored enough and decide to finish them off yourselves.

Which is all fine for you, what could be better then a tiny vacation away from shady scavengers and untrustworthy pimps? Nothing really, so to make the most out of your fortunately unfortunate escape/ temporary vacation. You’ve chosen to spend your afternoon helping the child practice his growing powers. Although it appears the little guy is more interested in a shiny purple crystal that he found minding its business on the gravely ground.

Sitting yourself in a criss cross position upon the soft grass, you close your eyes as you prepare to meditate when suddenly the child makes the most adorable babbling sound, with an amused smile you open your eyes to look down at him, “I’ll let that slide.” He gurgles while tilting his head to the side, his big green ears flopping ever so slightly as he possibly considers your comment.

Watching him decide to sit down and instead play with the purple crystal, earns a little smirk upon your face as you shut your eyes once again. This time he doesn’t do anything to break your concentration, so taking the blessed opportunity you’re finally able to zone in on the force. Laying your arms onto your folded legs you open your palms, feeling the world around you, sensing the energy flowing in as you begin to rise from the ground.

The child watches in silent awe as small fist sized rocks begin to float and flow in circles around you, your contact with the grass no more. For a couple minutes you’re able to sustain your deep meditation, then a tiny little coo is heard from below as it shuffles in the dirt. You almost lose focus at the intruding noise, but your zoned out enough to come back to the welcoming bleary void of the force.

Another couple minutes go by before an adorable noticeably louder coo pricks at your ears, letting out a huff, you remain in the air, the pebbles and rocks around you keeping themselves suspended just the same. You focus even harder, letting yourself feel weightless and in control as you levitate above the grass, the child deciding to coo and babble once more.

“Shut up you’re gonna break my concentration,” You whisper softly as you carefully continue to levitate mere inches off of the ground. Just then the child suddenly lets out a loud messy sneeze, your face falling in irritation, “Aaaand it’s gone.” You deadpan before falling on your butt with a hmph, the little guy giggling in amusement. You fake glare at him before falling back into the soft grass as you look up to the blue sea of sky when suddenly a dark shinning shadow towers above you.

“How’s the meditation going?” Wonders Din as he joins your little party from where he once was, tending to the ship that is.

Sighing, you pull yourself up from the grass and into a proper seated position as you turn your attention to Din, “Not terribly.” You reply with a love struck grin as you lightly pat the grassy spot next to you, “Sit with me?” He looks at the area before bringing himself down to your level.

“Couldn’t hurt to relax for a minute.” Inquires Din as you roll your eyes.

“We’re being hunted Din, I think this little get away vacation of ours calls for a bit more then just a minute of relaxation. Don’t you agree?” He turns his helmet to you, the black T of his armored face showing you back your own distorted reflection.

“Gives me time to work on the ship.”

Nudging his arm that’s mere inches from your own you look at him with a smile, “Okay so that’s how it’s gonna be, you’re just glad to be working on the ship?” You muse with a fake scoff while shaking your head at him, “I should have known.”

“What? No that’s not...that’s not what I meant Y/N.” He rushes worriedly as you scoot yourself closer to him.

Softly chuckling at his quick reaction, you lean into his side as you casually lace his gloved hand with your own, “I know what you meant. But just cause I’m me, I’d rather have you in my arms then fiddling with that hunk of metal.” You explain before setting your chin against his beskar covered shoulder. You can’t see it, but he’s smiling underneath that helmet of his, looking deeply into your loving gaze.

“Likewise.”

Snaking your arms around the one closest to you, he ever so slightly leans into your touch, “Please take off your helmet so I can see those enticing dark eyes of yours. Please?” You urge with a light squeeze of his arm, “I can’t exactly kiss you like this...no ones around to see anything....and anyways we’re married so I automatically get a free pass.”

He gently squeezes your hand before reaching his arms up to his head, you hear a soft click and a whoosh of air as he pulls off his helmet. A blissful smile breaks out onto your beaming face as his fluffy brown locks appear before you, styled every which way as they embrace their new freedom.

He sets his shiny silver helmet to the side before pulling off his gloves as his dark irises find your face, you’re unabashedly biting your lip while you take in every single feature of his handsome face, “It’s a good thing you wear that helmet of yours,” You lean in close, “cause all the ladies would be fighting each other for a chance to get with you. There’s no doubt in my mind.” You muse as the most adorable of smiles graces his stunning features while he leans his head against yours, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“I have a great suspicion that you’d fight them before they even had a chance to breath in my direction.” Retorts Din as his hands gently grasp your own.

“What? No way.....okay....maybe yes.” He smiles brightly before pulling back, only to let go of your hands as he engulfs you into a giant hug. You quickly squeeze back as you push him into the grass, laughing as the both of you fall onto the soft earth.

Your eyes find his shining dark ones as you lean in close, “We should stay here, disappear from the rest of the galaxy and go M.I.A forever.” He kisses you in reply, his lips are soft and inviting as he holds you impossibly close, the scruff of his day old unkept facial hair scratching your cheek.

He slowly pulls away, earning a pout from you once he’s able to see your face again, “That does sound appealing, but I know you’d get bored with the calmness. You like adventure too much to stay in one spot for very long.” He says with a knowing look as he leans in to plant soft kisses over your cheeks, “I know you Y/N.”

Rolling your eyes you lean down to kiss his nose, “That you do, Din. Sometimes annoyingly so.” You reply before breaking out into an abrupt laugh as you watch him study your face lovingly.

Suddenly you feel a little nudge by your boot, shifting your gaze away from Din you look over to your feet where the little womp rat is. He’s smiling adorably as he babbles some more, stretching his little arms out for one of you to take, making a cute grabby motion with his hands.

Heeding to his silent yearning you sit up to gently pick up the beaming child, “Oh and how could I forget you, my little green bean....you can have all the cuddles too.” He squeals in delight as you hold him close in your lap, Din scoots over so his head is by your thighs as he gently pets his little green son on his wrinkly head.

Running your fingers through Din’s helmet hair you make a funny face at the child causing him to laugh, “I guess staying here for another week couldn’t hurt. I’ve got my two favorite people in the whole galaxy....no need to rush things.” Mutters Din as he looks to you with the biggest heart eyes while you stick your tongue out at the child.

“I’d like that very much, our little green boy....you and me, alone, a ship all to ourselves...no one to bother us.” You add, a suggestive tone laced throughout your sly voice, Din’s eyebrows raise in interest at your intriguing words, much to your amusement.

“And I have time to work on my ship.” Replies Din, side eyeing you to see your reaction to his lackluster comment.

Shaking your head you lightly tug at his tangled hair while he laughs, “You little shit. I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you...you fucker.” A giggle escapes from your lips as you try and keep a serious face, Din attempting to do the same, though you’re both about to crack.

The baby starts to babble, as he wiggles his little body from side to side in an attempt at gaining back the both of your wandering attentions. Not being able to handle the sheer silliness in the atmosphere you let out a loud burst of laughter, Din following suite.

You watch as the sides of his eyes crinkle in joy, his belly rippling with each new inhalation and exhalation of air, “Din, would you like to see what we’ve been practicing on?” You ask as he finally calms down again.

“You’ve been practicing with him?” He asks with a smile, “I’d love to.”

Turning to the child in your lap you grab his sides before gently setting him onto the ground, “Okay little guy, remember you’re training....what we we’re doing yesterday. First we stick our hand out....and then we focus really hard on wanting to lift up the rocks. Okay.” The child coos in excitement as he lifts his clawed hand out to mirror your own, “Now close your eyes and feel...feel the power around you, the wind, the earth...call to it, let it flow.”

He suddenly lets out a little tut of determination as he does his best to focus, Din watches silently in anticipation for what may happen next. A beaming smile breaks out onto your face as a couple tiny pebbles begin floating off of the grass, the child lets out an excited babble as he celebrates his achievement, “You’re doing fantastic my little love, I’m so proud of you.” He coos even more as you gush in amazement, the pebbles falling to the grass as he gets distracted by your words of encouragement.

“But can Y/N lift some little stones?” Jokes Din as he gently nudges your arm, you raise an eyebrow to him before using the force to lift him a couple inches off of the grass. His eyes go wide for a second, clearly not expecting you to mess with him before you drop him onto the soft grass once again.

He lands with a dramatic huff, you look to him and your heart skips a beat as he eyes you up like a wolf to his prey, you swallow just as he suddenly tackles you into the soft green grass. You fall back with a yelp as your Mandalorian pins you to the ground, his beaming face so close to your own as he stares into your eyes with his dark ones.

“You think you’re real funny, hmm Y/N?” His voice is low and husky, his breath fanning your smirking face as he attempts to take the upper hand, “Cause that kinda hurt my arm.”

You simply roll your eyes, “I’ve seen you get swallowed by a Krayt dragon, you reckless man. Tough it out my love, you don’t want to make a bad impression on the little guy now do yo...” His soft lips are suddenly on yours as he shuts you up with his soft plush lips. The child waddles over towards the Razor Crest, uninterested with training and with whatever wrestling game you and Din are becoming entangled in.

You smile into the kiss as Din rests his weight in between your opened thighs and stomach, he rests his forearm upon the grass as his other hand caresses the side of your face. You bask in his body as your hands feel through his soft wavy locks, he moans into your mouth at the pleasant sensation, earning an amused chuckle from you.

Your opened mouth giving him enough space to stick his tongue into it as he teases you, you answer back just the same, your tongues dancing in the dark as he consumes you. He feels rather nice, you can’t help but to begin feeling a bit heated in your nether regions from the close proximity in this compromising position he has you in. Your body erupts with electricity as he starts to grind into you, the slow small friction against your clothed womanhood sending you into another realm of pleasure, and he’s not even inside you yet.

“Right in the grass?” You mumble against his lips as he bucks against your hips, the sensation driving you insane.

Knowing exactly how it’s making you squirm, he feels rather proud of himself, “Ships too far.” Mutters Din between kisses as he reaches down to unclasp his belt.

Your lips stay locked, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth as Din tugs down your own pants. He sits up and quickly makes haste with discarding his armored torso, flinging off top clothing and undershirt as you lift up your arms for him to pull off yours. The fabric falling to the grass as the both of you take in each other’s nearly naked bodies, your thin undergarments the only pieces keeping you away from total bliss.

He rests himself upon his bent knees while dark pleading irises stare into your own, he’s asking silent permission to disrobe you of all clothing. A smile breaks out upon your flushed face, nodding in a silent yes, his eyes flash with excitement and lust as he reaches over to tug at the edges of the tight fabric, he gently pulls off your bra. Your breasts bounce once they’re free from their constraints, Din’s brows raising in excited surprise before leaning down to kiss each one before he captures your lips with his once more.

Din you have no idea what you do to me.

Deciding you’d quite like it if both of you were naked, you pull away, Din’s face following yours as he pouts. In reply to his protests you fall back into the grass, “My undies aren’t gonna take themselves off.” You muse with a lustful gaze upon your man, god you already feel so wet, Din’s most obviously hard and you’re so ready for him.

His cheeks are flushed as he gently grasps the hem of your underwear on either side of your hips, you lift your bum up when he slides them down your legs, abandoning them in the grassy field. Your heart soars when he leans down to plant a kiss on the inside of your bare thigh, then another and another as he trails up to your knee. He pulls away to look at you once again, his face a mask of pure love and adoration as he shimmies out of his bulging boxers.

Biting your lip, you lean up to meet his lips, he kisses you deeply as he rests his calloused hands into each one of your knees, ever so carefully he parts them. Your nerves sending a wave of heat into your core for the anticipation of what’s to come, both literally and figuratively. If not for the current events you’d be laughing, your wandering thoughts quickly dissipating away once he pushes you back so that you’re laying in the soft earth as he locks eyes with you.

Giving you the most beautiful of smiles he kisses your abdomen, then below your bellybutton, up to your stomach, and in between your breasts. He’s hovering annoyingly close to you. You arch into him, the skin of his torso meeting your exposed womanhood, a moan escapes him from the wet contact against his stomach. You let out a breathy laugh as he squeezes and kneads your left breast, his mouth consuming the other one, his tongue working wonders as he sucks and licks at your perked nibbles.

Your hands tangle in his wavy dark hair as he continues his pleasurable assault in your breasts, his fingers may cause a little discomfort as he squeezes but you’re enjoying it too much to give a shit. His hot wet tongue dances in circles around your skin, he lets go of your breast to then lick up your turned neck. Doing everything in your power to keep it all inside, you bite your lip in an attempt at suppressing a moan, your voice breaking free once his hardened member rubs past your entrance without warning.

“There’s that pretty voice of yours.” Mutters Din before capturing his lips with yours, his hands held firmly against the ground as he holds himself up inches from you.

How annoying you can be, Din. Just get closer you idiot.

You feel so warm and fuzzy, his body mere inches from your wanting skin, your legs already open and ready as his length stays firm only centimeters away from your lower abdomen. Tugging at his hair, he parts from your lips as a confused expression crosses his features, you simply chuckle, “Stop making me wait my love, I’m ready for you.” His eyes closing in bliss as you purr sweetly into his ear, “I need you in me, now.”

Heeding to your straightforward command, he reaches a hand down as he guides his hardened cock to your awaiting entrance. He rubs it against your clit in a teasing manner before he slowly pushes into you, your hands flying to his muscular back as your walls adjust to his length. With a soft moan from his sweet lips, he fills you entirely, for a couple seconds does he pause. Letting himself enjoy the sensation of his cock inside you as he presses butterfly kisses all over your face.

Yes, fucking finally.

Not being able to stand it anymore, you buck your hips into him, this giving Din the cue to start working his magic. He completely pulls out of you before slamming himself into your slickness once again, a gasp leaving your lips as he does it again and again and again. Until he decides to keep himself flush against you, his new close contact vigorous thrusts sending more waves of euphoria coursing throughout your entire vessel. All that’s heard in the breeze is the sounds of your moaning and the slabs of skin on skin as Din pumps relentlessly into you.

You’re honestly rather glad that those bastard scavengers ran you into hiding on this planet, it had been a while since you and Din had had any real intimate time together and this was the perfect opportunity. Humming in pleasure, you kiss his scruffy cheek as his head falls into the crook of your neck, “Din I fucking love you so much, you have no idea.” More deep strokes are thrust into you as he kisses the side of your head.

“Y/N ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.....” His all he manages to mutter as another satisfied moan escapes him. You chuckle at how absolutely adorable and hot he’s acting right now, another thrust into you emitting a moan from your lips. He feels so good with how he’s treating you in this special moment, your two bodies colliding like stars in the sky.

You suck in a breath as a warmness builds in the pit of your stomach, you can feel your orgasm slowly rising with each and every pump into you. Din hums as he pushes you into the grass even more now, you can tell from how much more rigorous his thrusts are becoming that he’s on the edge of paradise.

And soon after he grunts, does he spill into you, the new added sensation enough to drive you wild with bliss. Your own high finally reached as your body shakes with euphoria and the last sloppy thrusts that he’s giving you freely.

A whimper escapes from your mouth as he enjoys himself inside of you for a couple more seconds before he slowly pulls out and flops by your side on the soft grass. He’s breathing heavily as you let the cool breeze fan over your sensitive swollen womanhood, the wind doing wonders for your hot sweaty skin as you try and calm down from your buzz. You close your eyes with a satisfied smile upon your content face as Din turns over to you with an equally joyous grin.

You listen and feel as he scoots himself against your side so that he can rest his arm over your stomach, his scruffy face inches from your cheek as he gently kisses you before resting his head against your temple. You lift your arm up to lay it over top of his as he hugs your side, doing his best to keep you as close to him as physically possible.

A pleasant sigh departs from his pouty lips, fanning the side of your face as you smile, “Y/N, you are very special to me...I just thought that you should know. Incase you ever forget.”

A small chuckle escapes you at his soft words, “Din I don’t think I could ever forget, you mean more to me then all the stars in the sky...more than the most valuable gems to ever exist or even my lightsaber.” He kisses your temple once again, “I believe the force has brought me to you my love, and I’m forever grateful for that.” You voice is a soft whisper on the breeze, yet he hears it all the same.

“Y/N I love you more than life, you are too sweet my beloved.” Your heart skips at his truthful reply, a small lump in your throat forming as he presses his nose against your hairline.

You turn your head to see his face better, he locks eyes with your own as a shy smile appears on his face, “Din Djaren you’re going to make me cry, shut up.” You muse with a quick kiss to his lips, looking into his dark brown irises like they hold all the answers to the universe.

He smiles against your cheek, kissing you there once more, “Never.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x you #din djaren x you #din djarin #din djaren x reader #din djaren imagine #the child #grogu #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal

297 notes · View notes

elianamarie-blog · 4 years ago

Text

The Things You Give Part 17

Steven Hyde x Reader

Happy Friday guys! I can’t believe this story has been going on this long lol I didn’t think it would get this far. But here we are! Let me know what you think and if you’d like to be added to the tagslist, please let me know and I’d be more than happy to add you :) I’m not too sure how much longer this is going go tbh. I don’t want it go on for too long but I also have quite a bit to still put in, so it might just be be longer chapters. Who knows. Let me know what you think in the comments! Plus, I love hearing from you all. Enjoy the chapter!

“So, have you heard from Hyde?” Donna asked y/n over the phone.

“No,” she replied glumly. “It’s been three days. He hasn’t come home and I’ve had to tell my parents that he took a few days to go be with his dad in Milwaukee.”

“What about Eric?”

“He’s still acting weird,” Y/n answered, sighing into the phone. “He barley looks at me and doesn’t even talk to me. And if he does, it’s short and kind of awkward. He can’t even make eye contact with me.”

“Yeah,” Donna said absentmindedly. “He isn’t even talking to me. And I’m his girlfriend!”

“Well, to be fair, you are in California visiting your mom.”

“There’s still the phone!”

“Fair point,” Y/n said and turned onto her back as she laid on her bed. “I still haven’t told my parents. I’m so scared.”

“Hyde is too.”

“Clearly or else he’d be here.” Y/n sighed and rubbed her tired eyes. She hadn’t gotten enough sleep these last few days, tossing and turning all night.

“Are you okay though?” Donna asked, concern laced in her voice.

“Honestly? No. But I don’t have a choice but to be. I’m going to have a baby and I have to be strong for it. No matter how hard it may be.”

“You are so strong,” Donna said and wished she could y/n a hug. “You’re going to make it through this. This won’t last forever.”

“God, I hope so.”

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. If you ever need a place to stay, you can stay over at my place.”

“Thank you, Donna. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Donna joked making y/n laugh. “You’re my best friend. That’s what they do.”

“When do you get back?”

“Tomorrow. You want to come and get me from the airport?”

“I’d love that,” Y/n answered. “We can go grab some food while we’re at it. I’ve been throwing up so much that I feel like I can eat a whole restaurant.”

Donna chuckled. “Pregnancy will do that to you.”

Y/n smiled. “You have no idea.”

“Alright, well, I’m going to go. My mom wants to take me to the beach and out to eat before I leave.”

“Okay, well you have fun.”

“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow.”

Y/n hung up the phone and stared at the ceiling for a while. Tears threatened to spill down the side of her face, but she forced them down. Hyde was coming back, she knew him. She knew his heart. He wouldn’t abandon them like the man he thought was his father did. He loved her. Right?

“ Y/n, honey?” Kitty called from down the hall, snapping Y/n out of her thoughts. “ Y/n, dinner is ready!”

“Ok, I’ll be down in a minute, Mom,” she replied and sat up from her bed. She took a quick glance in the mirror, checking out her baby bump. She sighed in relief when she saw she wasn’t showing yet. “Soon, though,” she whispered to herself as she walked out her room.

She walked in the kitchen to be greeted by everyone, except for Steven.

“So, have either of you heard from Steven?” Kitty asked the twins as she set down the chicken.

“Who cares? He’s out of the house,” Laurie commented.

“Laurie, hush,” Kitty said sternly.

“No, I have not heard from him,” Y/n said sourly. “What about you Eric?”

“Yeah, he called,” Eric said, not looking up from his plate. “He said he’ll be back tomorrow night.”

“Oh, good!” Kitty smiled and sat down with her family.

“Yeah, great,” Laurie deadpanned, earning an elbow to the ribs from Y/n.

“Why don’t you like him?” she asked. ��

“Because he mooches off of mom and daddy,” she replied.

“Wh—” Y/n started, confused. “So do you!”

“No, I don’t,” she argued. “All I’m saying is that Mom and Dad work really hard around here and nothing here is cheap.”

“Except you,” Eric quipped, earning a laugh from his twin.

Laurie rolled her eyes, feeling agitated. “Believe me, I’m not cheap.”

“Fine, free. Whatever,” the twins said together and then looked at each other before laughing. If Y/n were being honest, she was happy that they were laughing together at something. Even though that something was their older sister. Even if Y/n wasn’t pregnant she still gets a kick out of it.

“Okay, that’s enough you three,” Red said, unamused.

Y/n and Eric were still giggling as they turned back to their plates. As Y/n looked down at the plate in front of her, chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and rolls, she couldn’t help but scrunch up her nose. Her heightened senses made everything smell so gross now and it was driving her crazy.

“What’s the matter?” Kitty asked, noticing her daughter’s distain towards the food. “Is something wrong with my chicken?”

Y/n’s eyes snapped up to meet her mother’s. “No, no! Not at all, just…uh…not sure if I’m feeling chicken tonight.”

“But you love chicken,” Kitty said, almost sad.

Y/n saw her mom’s sad eyes and panicked. “No, no it’s good! See.” She shoved a leg into her mouth and felt the juices drip down her chin

She wanted to gag, but forced herself not to. Not now, kid.

Y/n hummed in satisfaction as she swallowed the chicken, earning a smile from her mother. “So good.”

“Huh,” Laurie said, pouting in thought. “Why does that look and sound familiar?”

“Maybe because it’s usually you—” Eric started before Kitty cut him off, screaming.

“Eric, if you want to live to see your grand-children, you better not finish that sentence,” she warned. Eric looked over to Red who was giving him a hard stare.

Eric quickly looked down at his plate and was quiet for the rest of the evening.

--Time Skip—

Y/n found her head in the toilet that night, emptying the contents of her stomach of the evening’s meal into the toilet. She was trying hard to be discreet, but that showed to be a failure when Eric knocked on the door.

“ Y/n? Are you okay?”

“What do you want—” Her head immediately went back into the toilet.

Eric let himself in and saw his sister in her weakened and vulnerable state. He gathered her hair in his hands and rubbed her back. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Mom’s chicken didn’t agree with me,” she whined, wiping the drool from her mouth with a piece of toilet paper. “Or the baby didn’t agree with the chicken.”

“God, I’m sorry,” Eric sympathized. “Look, we need to talk, but first, maybe you should brush your teeth.”

“I feel like we’ve been having a lot of talks lately,” Y/n tried to joke, but only came off as a whimper and she could feel her stomach churning again. She turned her face into the toilet once again and let out a long, painful, retched noise. “This kid is going to kill me,” she groaned.

Eric waited until Y/n was finished vomiting before helping her up and taking her to her room. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

“Well to stop vomiting would be nice, but what I really need is to know where Hyde is,” she said, staring at her brother. “When were you going to tell me that he called? Why didn’t he want to talk to me?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said and sat at her desk chair. “This isn’t easy for any of us, you know this.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry that you have to carry the burden of mine and Hyde’s baby,” Y/n said, rolling his eyes.

Eric sighed frustratingly. “ Y/n, focus will you?”

She shut her mouth and looked at Eric nervously.

“He’s coming back,” he started. “He just needed a few days to think. He even got a hold of his dad in Milwaukee and spoke to him, but he’s not sure how he’s supposed to handle this. I didn’t want to tell you because I knew you would be upset. He wanted to talk to you, but he said he needs to talk to you face to face.”

Tears started to burn her eyes. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Eric,” she croaked. “I’ve been alone in this since he left. The only person who was there for me was Donna and Jackie. And Donna has been gone in California for a few days while Jackie has been…well, being Jackie. The father of my child disappeared and my own brother wouldn’t even speak to me. Do you have any idea how crushing it is to be alone in this?”

“See, that’s the thing, you’re not alone!” Eric said. “Regardless of how I or Mom and Dad feel, you’re still going to have help raising this baby. Whether I like it or not, I’m going to be the uncle to my best friend’s and twin sister’s baby. Trust me, this isn’t what I thought would happen at all, but it did. And I came to realize that there is no point in being mad at you when it’s already done. I want to be here for you and Hyde. This is going to be my niece or nephew and…I don’t know, it’s kind of growing on me.”

Tears continued to flow down Y/n’s face. “Thank you, Eric. That means so much.”

Confused, Eric reached out to her and pulled her in. “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” she sniffed and hiccupped. “Just pregnancy hormones.”

“And we’re all going to have to deal with this for eight more months. Yayyy,” Eric mused.

Y/n laughed and sat up. She stared down at her lap for a minute while Eric studied her. Something was on her mind and he knew it. “Talk to me.”

She looked back up and wiped at her eyes. “Is Hyde going to leave me to raise this baby by myself?”

“What? No, of course not,” Eric said gently. “Look, he loves you. He’s told me so. I don’t see him leaving. He knows if he does anymore screw ups, I’m going to kick his ass.”

“Your leg would break midair before it could,” Y/n joked earning a laugh from Eric.

“Yeah, probably,” he joked.

“I feel like I’ve asked this more than I should, but…are we good?”

Eric nodded, giving her a half smile. “Yeah, we’re good.”

Y/n smiled at her twin. “So, uh, how do you think Dad is going to take it?”

“Well,” he said, thinking. “I’ve come to two possibilities. One, he kills you and Hyde. Or two, he’ll get so mad, his head will explode.”

Y/n laughed once again, the weight on her shoulders lifting a little.

--Time Skip—

The next night, Y/n and the gang sat in the basement with Hyde still missing.

After Y/n had picked up Donna, they had picked up burgers for everyone.

“Thanks for dinner, Y/n,” Kelso said.

“No problem,” she answered with a mouthful of fries. “I’ve been craving burgers and thought I could get everyone some, so you all don’t feel left out.”

“Well, you should get pregnant more often,” Kelso laughed into his burger.

Y/n gave him a ‘are you dumb’ look. “I think I’m going to pass on that.”

“So, Eric,” Kelso continued, licking his fingers. “Now that we’re past the awkward stage about Y/n’s pregnancy, all I gotta say is BURN!”

The group laughed, but Eric’s face remained stoic. “Hilarious.”

“C’mon, Eric, you’re going to be an uncle,” Jackie chimed in. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Well, kind of actually,” he answered honestly.

“Wait, really?” Y/n asked in surprised, mouth full of food.

“Yeah, but I’m not excited what’s going to happen when Dad finds out.”

“Yeah, we’re going to hear on the news that the Forman’s house blew up,” Fez joked.

“Make sure we’re all in our basements, duck and cover,” Donna said, laughing with the group.

“You guys are hilarious,” Y/n deadpanned and took a sip of her milkshake.

“I’d like to think we are,” Fez said.

Y/n chuckled as she took a bite of her burger. “It’s all fun and games until a father with anger issues explodes.”

“I’m going to have to disappear for a few days, or weeks…or years,” Eric said, staring in the distance. “You know what, I’ll just start packing for Mexico now.”

“Shut up, Eric. Dad’s not going to blame you.”

“Oh really?” Eric asked, setting aside his finished food. “When you failed your geometry test sophomore year, he asked me why I didn’t help you study. When I told I didn’t pass the test either, he asked why I didn’t help you cheat.” He shook his head.

“Well, I don’t think a geometry test is equivalent to a baby,” Y/n responded. “And besides, I don’t think you wanted to be there to stop me from getting pregnant.”

“Yeah, thanks for that.” Eric scrunched his face in disgust while everyone agreed how gross and creepy that would be.

“Anyway,” Donna said, clearing her throat. “Have you thought about what you want to have?”

“Not really,” Y/n replied and finished off her burger. “I’ll love them whether they’re a boy or a girl.”

“Do you think you’ll have twins since you’re one?” Jackie asked.

“Nah,” she replied. “It’s like, less than one percent chance of having twins. I highly doubt it.”

“Well, if you have a girl, you should name her Jackie,” Jackie said. “If it’s a boy, Jack.”

“You hate it when I call you Jack,” Y/n pointed out.

“Yeah, but if it’s a baby named after me, I can deal with it,” she said and flipped her hair.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “I’m not naming my baby after you.”

“Why not?!”

“Because I don’t need that hanging over my head!” Y/n responded and took the last bite of her burger. “We’re going to name the baby something completely different.”

“Like what?” Fez asked.

“I don’t know,” Y/n shrugged. “I’m only four weeks.”

“When’s your doctor’s appointment?” Eric asked.

“In two weeks,” Y/n answered. “They’re going to see if they can detect a heartbeat.”

“Yeah, they have this really cool machine now where they can use the ultrasound to see and hear the baby’s heartbeat. It’s pretty cool,” Donna said. “Kelso, did they use that with Brooke’s pregnancy?”

“Yeah, it was really cool,” Kelso responded and threw away his trash. “It’s really beautiful to see your baby like that.”

“Didn’t they give you a picture?” Y/n asked.

“Yes. Brooke still has it on her fridge.”

“How exciting!” Jackie said.

“Yeah,” Y/n trailed off.

“What?” Fez asked.

“Well, seeing my baby, it’s going to make it real,” she whispered.

“Well, it already is,” Donna said. “But it’s going to be okay.”

She was rubbing a comforting hand on Y/n’s shoulder when the door swung open. Y/n turned to see Hyde standing there with the same clothes he wore three days prior. She wanted to run into his arms and kiss him, but she also wanted to punch him in the face.

“Hey,” he greeted her, rather awkwardly.

“Hey,” she replied gravely.

“Where the hell have you been?” Donna asked him.

“I was just driving around. Went up to Milwaukee to see my dad.”

“Where did you sleep?” Fez asked.

“Either in my car or a motel.”

Y/n nodded and looked down at her hands. Her stomach knotting up and tears burning the back of her eyes.

“Look, Y/n, we need to talk—”

“You left me,” she snapped. “You promised you wouldn’t, but you did.” ��

“I didn’t leave you,” he argued. “I just needed some time to think.”

Y/n stood to face him. “You were gone for three days! You didn’t even call to speak to me. You spoke to Eric instead!”

“I know, but please listen to me—can you hang on a second?” He turned his attention to the group. “Would you guys get out of here?”

The group turned and walked away, but only a few feet and huddled in the corner by the stairs so they could listen. Y/n rolled her eyes and turned back to Steven.

“ Y/n, please believe me when I say I really wanted to talk to you, but I needed to see you first.”

“Okay,” she said and crossed her arms. “Go ahead. Talk.”

Hyde exhaled and scratched the back of his head. “I…I panicked, okay? This was the last thing I was expecting.”

“And I was?!” Y/n asked, voice rising. “See, here’s the difference between you and me: if I ran like you did, I wouldn’t be able to run away from my problems. Because wherever I go, it goes. I can’t outrun this problem, Steven. Even if I wanted to. But you did and when I needed you the most, you weren’t here!”

“I know. I know I messed up, but that’s why I’m here. I l—” he looked at the group who awkwardly (and not subtly) looked away in other directions, making it look like they weren’t listening. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? It’s a lot to take in. We’re barley out of high school and I get hit with, ‘You’re going to be a father.’ God, I can’t believe this is happening. How is this happening?” He turned away from her, hands rubbing his eyes.

“Well, it is,” Y/n said. “I’m just as scared as you, but I didn’t run away.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to be gone as long as I was. I just needed to think of what I was going to do. I don’t know what I’m going to do,” he said. “I didn’t have a dad growing up. The only one I knew was Bud and he ran out on me. I’m not sure I even know how to be one. What if I end up being just like him? I can’t do that to you.”

“Okay, guys, I think we should go,” Donna whispered once she realized where this conversation was heading. “We’ll talk to them later.”

“But I wanna listen,” Kelso whined, but hissed when Jackie pinched his nipple. “Damn, Jackie!”

“Let’s go, Michael,” she said sternly.

The group retreated upstairs, leaving Y/n and Hyde alone in the basement. Hyde sunk down onto the coffee table and put his head in his hands. Y/n sat down next him and rubbed a comforting hand on his back.

“Well, you’re not going to be like Bud.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because you left out someone who did become a father to you: Red. He stuck around and continued to help you even when you pissed him off. He’ll never say it, but he loves you. And if anything, you’ll be like him.”

“He’s not going to when he finds out what I did to you.”

Y/n made a face at him. “You knocked me up, you didn’t kill me.”

“What are we going to do?” he asked. “I don’t know,” she responded. “I don’t know about you, but I’m terrified.”

“You have no idea. My job doesn’t pay me enough to support you and a kid. I don’t even think I get benefits. Aw, crap…should we just get married?”

Y/n made a face at him. “’Aw, crap. Should we just get married?’ Is that how you fix things?”

“How else do you suggest we fix this?” he asked.

“Well, by not getting engaged!” Y/n pointed out and stood up. “You really think us getting married because we’re having a baby is the right answer?”

“Well, what do you suggest?”

“I don’t know, Steven, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to marry me.”

Y/n started pacing the floor while Hyde stared at the wall, desperate to find an answer.

“By the way, I didn’t kiss her,” he piped up after a moment of silence. “She kissed me.”

“I know,” Y/n stopped pacing. “Everyone told me.”

“Good,” he said and sighed. “I was afraid you would think I’d do that to you.”

“You’re a lot of things, Steven, but a cheater isn’t one of them.”

“I hope those are good things,” he chuckled halfheartedly, trying to lighten the mood.

She smiled gently at him. “Most of them are. You’re still a huge pain in the ass though.”

Hyde lifted the corner of his mouth in amusement. “Maybe, I can get a job with W.B.,” he suggested. “He might’ve…already offered me a job.”

“Hey, that’s great!” Y/n said excitedly and sat down next to him.

“I think I might take it.”

“You should,” she encouraged him. “I applied to the state college here, but I think I’m going to apply to the community college and get a part time job.”

“No, let me worry about the bills,” he said. “I’m the man, that’s what I’m supposed to do.”

She squinted at him. “This isn’t twenty years ago. I can work and help with the bills.”

“It’s okay, really.” He turned and grabbed her hands. “Let me work and take care of the bills while you go to school.”

“Okay, well, we’re going to have to figure out where to live. I’m pretty sure my parents don’t want a baby living in the house.”

“Yeah, we’ll start apartment hunting,” he grunted and stood up.

Y/n watched him pace back and forth; he sighed and rubbed his face. He stopped pacing and looked lost in thought. “Maybe it is with you,” he said suddenly and gently.

“What?”

“Just now when you asked if us getting married was the right answer because we’re having a baby, I’m saying maybe it is. I mean,” he continued. “This is not exactly ideal, but we did talk about settling down before. Maybe, you know, this time is…now?”

Y/n blinked. “Are you…actually asking me to marry you right now?”

“Well…” he drew out, suddenly acting shy. “I guess I am.” He scratched his head.

She shook her head. “Steven, I told you I don’t want you to feel like you have to marry me.”

“See, that’s the thing I don’t,” he answered quickly. “I actually want to.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You do?”

“Yes. I know how I used to feel about marriage, but that was when I thought all women were the same or…like my mom.” Y/n chuckled lightly along with Hyde and he continued. “But, you’ve changed all that. You forced me to see a different picture painted in a whole new light and honestly…it’s refreshing.”

“I feel the same way,” she said, giving him a shy smile.

“I just, uh…I wanted to do this right. You know?”

“Well,” she said quietly, her heart thumping wildly. “You still can.”

“I don’t even have a ring. Not yet at least.”

“It’s okay,” Y/n whispered.

Hyde smiled so sweetly at her before nervously grabbing her hand and getting down on one knee. “I know that nothing about our situation has been easy. We’ve only been together for a short while, but I’ve known you my whole life. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before and for the first time I actually mean it when I say I love a girl and not just saying it to sleep with her.”

Y/n squeezed his hand a little tighter as he continued. “And as much as I used to hate commitment then, you’ve changed me. You make me a better man. If you’ll have me, I promise to stay and do my best to make you happy because you make me happiest that I have ever been.”

Tears pricked the corner of Y/n’s eyes as she smiled widely. She couldn’t believe this was happening because she never thought it would. She remembers when he used to be so against marriage, but here he was voluntarily on one knee, asking her to marry him.

“So, Y/f/n y/m/n Forman, will you marry me?”

Y/n nodded while tears started to run down her face. “Yes,” she whispered.

Hyde smiled brightly at her as she stood up and swiftly brought her face to his. He held onto her tight as he kissed her hard. They relished the feeling of each other’s lips and the emotion they both felt. Hyde found himself surprised that he wasn’t freaking out and Y/n found herself excited.

Their kiss was broken short though as the group came crashing down the stairs.

“ENGAGED?!” They all shouted.

“Were you guys listening this whole time?!” Hyde asked them.

“Duh,” Jackie responded which earned her an elbow to the ribs from Donna. “Ow, Donna! What the hell was that for?”

“Are you guys serious?” Eric asked, ignoring the girls and walked down towards the couple. “Are you really engaged?”

“Are you mad?” Y/n asked.

Eric shook his head. “No, I’m done being mad. I’ve been doing that a lot lately,” he said and chuckled. “If anything I’m just…shocked. Especially with how fast all this has been moving. I never thought in a million years this would happen.” He rubbed his lips with his fingertips, as if lost in thought and sighed. “But, uh, congratulations, guys.”

He brought Hyde in for a hug, patting his back and then brought Y/n in for a tight hug. If anything he was feeling conflicted. Was he mad at them? No, not at all. Was he happy? Yes, of course. But, what he was feeling most of all was…sadness?

Maybe because the group was changing drastically now. Kelso was becoming a police officer and just became a father himself, Donna was working at the radio station and setting goals for herself with feminism, Fez had a steady job working at the DMV, Jackie was…well, he didn’t know what the hell Jackie was doing, and now Hyde and Y/n were not only having a baby, but they were now getting married and he was now going to be working with W.B at an awesome record company. And what was Eric doing? Besides lazing around the house doing absolutely nothing while watching his friends and sister were working to do something amazing with their lives. His year of not doing anything was almost up and while he enjoyed sleeping in and doing nothing all day long, he was starting to see the down side of it all. And it was hitting him hard.

“Are you okay?” Y/n asked him, seeing his face change.

“Yeah,” he lied and plastered on a fake smile. “I’m just thinking of what you’re going to say to Mom and Dad.”

“Yeah, don’t remind me.”

“Oh, Y/n this is so exciting!” Jackie squealed coming down the stairs and interrupting their conversation. Everyone in the group trailed behind her. “I can’t wait to start wedding planning! But first, we need to get you a ring!” She gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, who’s going to be your maid of honor? If it’s not me I’m going to scream.”

Y/n laughed and placed her hands on Jackie’s arms. “Hey, calm down, Jack. It’s not happening yet. I’m just taking it one day at a time.”

“Well, you better tell them soon because it’s going to get harder to hide a baby bump,” Eric said.

“I know. I was actually thinking of telling them tonight,” she said which caused the group to go silent. “What?”

“Should we start planning your funeral now or?” Donna joked.

“Funny,” she deadpanned. “No, I think it will be fine now that Steven and I have a plan.”

Eric nodded and pressed his lips into a thin line. “It was nice knowing you. Both of you.” He gave her a hug which Y/n shrugged off.

“Alright that’s enough,” she said and stepped back. “They can’t be too mad…can they?”

Again, the group went silent, looking at each other; Trying to decide who is the better liar. But no lie could be good enough to determine what was about to happen with Red and Kitty.

Fez stepped forward wearing the most serious expression Y/n has ever seen. “Before you do, I just wanted to say how much I love you guys and how much I’m going to miss you.” He dramatically wrapped his arms around Hyde and start faux sobbing. The group laughed at Fez as Hyde shoved him off.

--Time Skip—

Y/n waited in the basement for another couple hours, working the nerve to go up there and tell her parents. The gang had decided to stay and come up with a plan, but nothing seemed good enough to prepare them for the upcoming explosion known as Red.

“Okay, so here’s the plan,” Y/n said, exhausted. “I tell them, Steven you have the El Camino ready when things go south, Eric have the Vista Cruiser ready in case Dad tries to kill you, and everybody, whatever you do: act dumb. You didn’t know I was pregnant and just run like hell.”

Everybody nodded in compliance as Y/n laid back against the couch. “I should probably go up there now,” she said, her stomach twisting into knots, her head swimming.

“Do you need me to go with you?” Hyde offered.

“No, no, you stay here. If I don’t make it back in,” she responded dramatically. “Please, move on without me. I love you.”

Hyde grabbed her hand. “Hey, don’t talk like that. We will get out of this alive.”

Y/n gave him a single nod. “Okay, here I go.”

“Wait, Y/n,” Kelso said, abruptly stand up and gave her a hug. “Goodbye.”

Y/n gave a theatrical sniff as if she was crying. “Goodbye, Kelso. I’ll miss you the most.”

“Really?” he asked brightly and turned to Hyde as if to say I knew it.

“No,” she deadpanned and pushed him away from her before walking up the stairs, hearing the chuckles fade away as she entered the kitchen.

She saw Kitty sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over scribbling something on a piece of paper.

“Hey mom,” Y/n’s voice wavered, her knees starting to wobble, but she played it off as if nothing was wrong. To hide her nervousness, she opened the fridge and grabbed a soda can. “What cha doin’?”

“Oh, I’m just going over your medical bill,” Kitty replied and Y/n felt her heart drop to her feet. “I see that they ran some extra tests which explains why we have to pay a bit more. Plus, the ambulance ride didn’t help any.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll help pay that back,” she replied and looked around. “So, uh, where’s Dad?”

“Oh, he’s out getting dinner.”

“Oh, okay,” she replied and opened her water, taking a hefty sip. Kitty looked up from the paper and noticed Y/n acting different. In fact, Y/n’s eyes were glossy and she looked like she was about to vomit again at any second.

“ Y/n, honey? What’s wrong?” Kitty asked, concerned.

Y/n’s chin wobbled as she gripped the can tighter. Do it. Do it now! She stared at her mother who had completely abandoned her task and now was staring at her daughter.

Y/n couldn’t find the words. She stood there, like an idiot, or as her father would say, like a dopehead. Her eyes were wide and she could feel cold perspiration beginning to cover her palms.

It’s now or never.

“Mommy,” she said in a small voice. “I need to tell you something.”

Taglist: @jeeperky @05-feet-off-the-table-06 @cooloclown @mdittyz123 @n-dg-wm @undead-sierra @random-thoughts-003 @lieswithoutfairytales @taysirene

#that 70s show #That '70s Show #that 70's show fanfic #Steven Hyde #steven hyde x reader #steve rogers x reader #Eric Forman #Donna Pinciotti #red forman #kitty forman #fez #Michael Kelso #jackie burkhart

203 notes · View notes

whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Text

bao | myg | 1

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Min Yoongi is always late to start work. He’s late in starting a lot of things. Like telling you he loves you.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of parental injury/surgery; it’s actually SO MUCH fluff; non-idol!AU; (slightly) jealous deliveryboy!Yoongi x hardworking chef!reader ft. bao fiend, next-door neighbor, model!Taehyung; Yoongi gets injured T_T

it’s Weverse magazine Yoongi; can’t be helped he looked too good and yes it’s another fic revolving around food like mango | jjk (less dark this time lmao), guess that’s my schtick now

Men in leather jackets?

Yes.

Men who liked to wear silver rings?

Double yes.

Men whose name was Min Yoongi?

Fuck, no.

But, unfortunately, Min Yoongi was both of the first two things, when annoyed you to no end. You could hate Min Yoongi, easy, if he wasn’t attractive, but the truth was that he was very attractive, with his dark hair, cat-like eyes that were the color of black coffee, large pale hands, silver earrings, silver bracelets, and raspy deep voice.

The infuriating thing was, he was always late.

“Sorry,” he apologized for the billionth time. “I had to do something.”

You always have to do something, you thought, pursing your lips as you pushed the paper bags towards him. Each one was stapled with a small piece of paper, indicating the address and complete order of the patron.

“I’m going to fire you if you’re late again,” you warned.

Yoongi grinned as he gathered the bags. He had pretty white teeth too. Fuck. You even liked seeing his stupid teeth. The fuck was wrong with you?

“Nah, you won’t fire me. I’m your favorite delivery boy.”

“You’re my only delivery boy,” you shot back as he retreated.

“Thus, being your favorite,” he chuckled, out the back door once again.

You sighed deeply as you watched the black leather depart. He was wearing black jeans today that showed off his long legs, with a tear in the right knee. Why did he have to look so good? And why was he always late? It was very annoying. You checked your phone, texting your father, asking how he was today.

You spent all day taking orders and prepping them for Yoongi to deliver. In between, you continued making buns of all kinds, from savory pork buns to sweet red bean buns. You father owned a small Chinese-style bao shop, but since his back surgery, he hadn’t been able to work for a while. Your mother was taking care of him and complaining quite a bit about having another baby, except this one was bigger and more demanding and sounded way too much like your father.

You just laughed through the phone as your dad asked for more water and a foot massage.

Being their only daughter, you naturally had some experience making bao, but actually running the business was much harder. You weren’t sure how your dad did it all these years to be honest. There used to be a counter where people could drop by and pick up a bun for their lunch break, but the person who worked at that counter used to be your mother or you, and that wasn’t happening if you were making them all day. You weren’t as fast making them as your father either.

Therefore, the small shop ended up being converted to delivery only, and your only delivery boy was late to arrive all the damn time.

Okay, he wasn’t a delivery boy per se, because he was definitely an adult man, but he might as well have been a boy with how often you scolded him about being late. At least he was good at delivering the actual orders on time.

You heard a knock at the back door and scooped up two steaming roast pork buns, brushing the excess flour off your hands before opening the door.

A bright, jovial, boxy smile greeted you.

“Hey!”

Your only exception to delivery only. Kim Taehyung, your next-door neighbor.

You handed him the pork buns and he handed you some bills.

“Keep the change,” he grinned, biting into the bun and gasping a little at the heat. “Mmm, delicious as always.”

You chuckled. “You need to learn how to cook for yourself.”

He pouted, chewing noisily. “Ugh, it’s so hard. Teach me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I tried. You burned it somehow. I don’t even know how that’s possible.”

He shrugged. “I’m better at watching anyway.”

You looked over his attire. A brown suit with a cream t-shirt, green silk scarf around his neck. His hair was dark brown again. “What are you advertising today?” Taehyung was a model. Sometimes you saw him on billboards or ads in the supermarket.

Taehyung shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m going to the agency right now.” He held up the buns. “But I gotta eat first because it’s gonna be long day.”

You chuckled. “Better go before your manager calls.”

As if on cue, a colorful tune erupted from Taehyung’s pants, chirping loudly. Taehyung shoved one of the buns entirely into his mouth and spoke around it, words muffled.

“Ugh, thanks again. Let’s hang out when I can!” he called as he ran off, snatching his phone from his pocket, mumbling into it as he chewed.

You smiled ruefully, watching him hurry away. “Yeah, like that will ever happen.”

Taehyung was far too busy to hang out with you. You were surprised he still lived in the same apartment complex you did, because he made decent money now, but he said it was because his dog Yeontan didn’t like change and his parents lived nearby so he could drop him off there when he was working.

“Your boyfriend or something?”

You suddenly noticed Yoongi standing next to the door. You jumped back, staring at him. He raised an eyebrow.

“How long have you been there?”

Yoongi shrugged. “As long as you’ve been making googly eyes at him.”

You frowned. “I’m not making googly eyes at Taehyung.”

Yoongi smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. “Ah, he has a name. And no honorifics. Very suspicious, if you ask me.”

Nobody asked you! You wondered if he needed both arms to deliver food, because you were pretty close to breaking at least one of them. Surely, he could drive one-handed? You were a bit disturbed on how imagining that seemed somewhat attractive to you.

“He’s my next-door neighbor,” you huffed, turning on your heel and going back into the shop to pack more orders for Yoongi.

“Next door to you puss–”

You spun around and shoved a pork bun into Yoongi’s mouth. He nearly choked, grabbing it as you let go, his fingertips brushing against yours for a moment. A strange tingle travelled through your palm, going up your arm. You ignored it, purposefully slipping buns into paper packages for an order for a local office nearby.

“It’s your lunchtime anyway,” you said impassively, not looking at him.

If you did, you would have noticed the pink tinge on Yoongi’s cheeks, the furrow in his brows as he chewed on the bun, watching you. You would have noticed the way his jaw seemed to be tense, thinking about what he just saw, holding tightly to the pork bun.

Yoongi knew you were the one who made it. It tasted great, almost as good as your father’s. He knew your father well, having been the on-and-off delivery boy through the years, from high school to university to now. Being an underground music producer didn’t make him a ton of money, but he didn’t care too much. If he was more popular, he would have to quit.

And he really didn’t want to quit, because he was staring at your back, hoping one day you’d notice he was watching you.

He knew who Kim Taehyung was. Taehyung came every day. Maybe even for the same reason as him. He never interrupted your interactions with Taehyung before, because it seemed rude. They were always short anyway. But, of course, Taehyung noticed you were alone now, and Taehyung had been dressing nicer, looking cuter, flirting more and more. Yoongi doubted you noticed, but it still bothered him all the same.

Yoongi sighed inwardly as he picked up another bun. You shot him a glare but he shrugged.

“Might make me taller,” was his response.

You raised your eyebrows. “You want to be a fucking skyscraper or something?”

He bit into it. Fucking delicious. “Maybe.”

Truth was, he just didn’t want to stop eating them because you made them.

Yoongi wanted to pretend you made them just for him.

"What's this?"

"Pork and leek bao. Tell me what you think."

Yoongi took a small bite, chewing thoughtfully. "Light flavor, but nice."

"Too greasy?" you pried.

"Mm, little bit."

You sighed. "Hm, okay, won't sell them then. I'll have to eat them myself."

Yoongi looked at the huge tray of freshly streamed buns.

"I can help."

"Wait for them to cool and then you can pack however much you want," you said absentmindedly, off to wash the pots. "You have a steamer at home?"

"Mhm."

He looked good today too, still in his black leather jacket and black jeans, different loose gray shirt. Almost cute with the way he was chomping on the steamed bun, his cheeks filling and becoming round.

Too bad he couldn't be punctual to save his life, you thought, violently scrubbing the metal clean.

Yoongi sat in his studio, holding one of the pork and leek bao you had given him. He stored them in his freezer and streamed them periodically when he was at his desk. Easy, quick meal that had very little mess.

He chewed on it.

He should have told you to sell them.

But he also liked having his freezer full of bao that you had made. You probably would have given him some of he asked, but Yoongi felt bad asking because he knew how hard you worked. They should be for customers, not him.

He sat back in his chair, taking bites slowly, savoring them. Salty pork with the mild flavor of fresh leek, a little black bean to add a hint of nuttiness, grounding the greasy nature of the meat. Made by your own two hands, your hard work, day in and day out, trying to make up for the absence of your father.

He really should stop being late.

Then again.

Yoongi was always late because he was always working on music and when he wasn't working on music, he was oversleeping his work alarms.

It wasn't until you had gone to university that he realized how much he missed you and your presence at the bao shop. You were smart. Had a Biochemistry degree and everything. Yoongi couldn't make heads or tails of science, so that alone was impressive to him. But you hadn't been able to get a job in your field because your father’s back pain got worse and worse, until he had to get surgery. Now it meant you did everything and, while it pained him to watch you working so hard, secretly he was a little glad that he could see you every day.

He felt ashamed for thinking that way, because your father had surgery for a misaligned disc and Yoongi didn't wish that on anyone.

His eyes shifted to his computer.

He hasn't dropped his mixtape for a lot of reasons. One, what if no one liked it? All of his hard work, ignored? Or, what if everyone liked it? What if he made it big?

Could he handle that?

He didn't know. He wasn't very good with people.

Who was he? A nobody. Yoongi doubted your parents would be happy if the fucking delivery boy wanted to marry you. They were nice people, but of course they wanted better for you. That's why they worked so hard to put you through school to the point of your father's back literally breaking.

Maybe it would be better if you dated Taehyung. It seemed like he made a reasonable amount of money considering his clothes. He was handsome too. Yoongi saw Taehyung's face at the local supermarket sometimes. His own face would never be in supermarkets. No one would pick up a coffee with his face on it over Taehyung's.

Yoongi ate the last bite of bao bitterly and returned to his music.

"You're even later than usual today!"

"I'm sorry. I'll grab the orders right away."

"And why are you wearing this stupid hat? It's unprofessional–"

You attempted to grab the black baseball cap off of Yoongi's head, but he dodged you. He seemed more aloof than usual today, but you barely noticed in your irritation as you clicked your tongue and grabbed his leather jacket, yanking him towards you and pulling the cap off.

Three things happened at once.

Yoongi's body collided into yours.

He painfully gasped into your neck, turning your skin burning hot with his breath.

And third, your eyes widened as you realized Yoongi had a black eye.

You barely even noticed the first two things because you were staring at the fair skin around his right eye tinged with rings of purple-red. You released him and he backed up away from you, wincing.

"What happened?" you asked in a stunned voice.

Yoongi narrowed his eyes and tried to grab his hat, but you moved it behind your back, eyes glued to his bruise.

"Yoongi, tell me what happened."

You saw him pause. If you weren't so fixated on the actual black eye, you would have noticed his expression change from annoyance, to bitterness, to realization. Your tone was not angry. You were genuinely worried, to the point you felt strangely emotional, like you were going to cry.

"It's nothing," Yoongi mumbled. "I'm fine. It only looks bad."

Your eyes locked with his. Those dark orbs did not want to say anything. They wanted you to treat it like no big deal, or yell at him some more for being late, anything but address his black eye.

"Please tell me what happened," you said quietly.

Yoongi sighed, rubbing the back of his head. Usually his black hair was styled, but it was messy and flat from being under the cap.

"I did something stupid," he finally replied. "I trusted people. And I got scammed."

You waited. Yoongi shuffled his feet and continued.

"I produce and make music. I mixed a guy's entire album and when I asked for payment, they told me I was getting paid with exposure," he spat, as if the word itself was disgusting. "I was already in a shitty mood. So I punched him."

"You did what?"

"I punched him," Yoongi repeated coolly. He shrugged. "There were three other guys so I punched them too."

"Y... Yoongi!"

"What?" he snapped. "They fucking deserved it."

"You can't go around punching people!"

"Yeah." He pointed to his black eye. "Sometimes they punch back."

You stared at him before you held out his cap. He took it from you and crammed it back on his head.

"Yoongi, go home."

He paused. Then he chuckled, straightening. "What are you taking about?" He changed his tone, making to more lighthearted and teasing. He gestured behind you, to the brown paper bags waiting. "I have deliveries to make."

"I'll do them."

You stood in front of the bags, blocking him. Yoongi frowned.

"You have food to make."

"Yoongi," you said softly. "Go home and recover. You probably didn't get much sleep last night. I can see your dark circles."

He chuckled, the noise dying in his throat as he looked at your serious expression.

"I always have dark circles."

"I don't want you to get in an accident because of sleep deprivation."

"I won't get into an accident," Yoongi said impatiently. He tried to move around you, but you and your flour-covered apron blocked him.

"I don't want you to get hurt."

The way you said it stopped him. You thought of your father, laying in the hospital, doctors and nurses trying to make sure he was okay after the surgery. Yoongi could see it in your eyes. He sighed.

"Look, it's just a couple bruises. I did this to myself," he mumbled. His eyes shifted from side to side before they came back to you. "I need to make money. I'm short on rent because of this."

"Then I'll pay you," you insisted. "You need to rest."

You suddenly realized Yoongi was very close to you now, looking down at you from under his black baseball cap. His chest was almost touching your chest. The scent of leather and pine cologne filled your nose, vastly different from your dusty flour-covered self. His cat-like eyes were on you, expression unreadable.

"This is my rest," Yoongi said quietly. "Helping you deliver orders is the least stressful part of my day."

For a long moment, you didn't move. You weren't sure if it was because you were still worried or because Yoongi was so close and it felt weird all of a sudden, as if you recalled the way his body hit yours earlier and the way his breath tickled your skin.

You moved away and Yoongi collected the bags, careful not to drop them. You always ordered them so they were from first to last delivery, maximizing efficiency and order number. He made his way to the back door, using his back to open it.

You spoke again, voice nearly cracking.

"Please don't get hurt."

Yoongi looked up from under his black cap, expressionless. You expected him to give you a snarky remark as usual.

"I won't."

He headed out.

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi fluff #min yoongi x you #yoongi scenarios

322 notes · View notes