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ostaramoon · 2 days ago

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we’ve been loving in silence 𖤐 dean winchester

【 pairing 】 dean x fem!reader

【 summary 】 you’re a bartender in sioux falls, dean tends to stop in whenever he’s in town. you’ve played this game of touch + go for going on a decade now. when he stops in tonight, looking particularly worn out and tired, it’s you he’s searching for a restitute in.

【 genre / warnings 】 smut, explicit language, unprotected piv, needy dean, teasing/begging, aftercare, some plot, mdni, 18+

【 wordcount 】 2.9k

inspired by this song ⤜ we’ve been loving in silence by MARO ⤛

you knew the moment those heavy boots waltzed into your bar that you’d be here, stumbling into your dark apartment tipsy and high on his charming energy. you cross the threshold with dean’s calloused palms stuck to your hips. he nips at the side of your neck, making you giggle as you lose your balance.

“i don’t think you’ve stopped touching me since we got out of the car.” you quip, peaking over your shoulder at those brilliantly green eyes.

“mhm,” he hums, gently peppering kisses on the soft skin behind your ear, “can you really blame me, sweet girl?” his voice is damn near smokey at this hour in the night. rolling into your body like electricity as you notice even the faintest grunts of impatient desire emanating from him.

dean effortlessly kicks the door closed behind him, using it to lean on as he pulls you in closer. turning within his grasp, you snake your arms around his strong neck and look up into his hungry gaze. his eyes dance across your face, memorizing each feature with complete admiration.

“i’ve missed you, sweetheart.” he breathes, barely audible even in your closeness. he always calls you pet names, but you’ve noticed they leave his lips more frequently after a night of honey whiskey.

“me too,” you smile, unable to deny the relief that left your soul when he came in tonight, “i was worried something happened to you, something permanent this time.” you confess, biting your lips and feeling anxious to express your concerns to mr no strings attached. but you’ve known each other for so long, known what his life is outside of your nights of drink and pillowtalk. when you spend months in radio silence, the fears begin to scream from the corners of your mind.

“i know, baby, it’s been too long.” he sighs, bringing his hand to your jaw and running one of those large thumbs across your lips. “but i’m here now.” there is a quiet pleading in his words, one that you take to mean leave it, leave those thoughts at the door. and as always, you do.

pushing onto your tip toes, your eyes flutter closed as you collide your lips with his. he groans at the sudden connection, taking no more than a few milliseconds to deepen the kiss. lips messily moving against each other in a needy want. he pulls off your jacket without breaking contact, quickly moving his hands down your body and swiftly lifting you up, your legs wrap around his waist instinctively.

dean turns your bodies so that it’s your back against the door now. “i need you,” he whispers on your lips, “i need this.”

his pleas send a heat straight to your core, ricocheting through your body and leaving goosebumps in it’s wake. a mindless whimper escapes you. god, you’ve been starving for the touch of this man.

your small verbal cue was enough for dean to take exactly what he’s craving. he carries you from the door and into your small apartment. despite not having been here in months he navigates through the dark rooms with ease, distracting you with nips and kisses across your collarbones. you don’t even realize you’ve made it to the bedroom until he lowers you onto the end of the bed.

you watch with a love drunk gaze as he towers over you, and you can’t help reaching out and tracing the muscular outlines of his lower abdomen while he busies himself with removing his shirts. “you’re a true marvel to see, dean.” you confess, peaking through your lashes to watch how quickly he tries to hide his embarrassment from such a compliment. though you only meet with him in moments, you learned fairly early on how deeply wrong this gorgeous man is about himself. since then you committed to a secret promise to yourself that you’d do your best to acknowledge his beauty whenever he’s near.

his charming toothy smile is back, “there you go again, being too sweet to me.” he teased. he takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, lips puffy and red from grazing his stubble in the sloppy kisses. your shirt tousled from his constant pawing. he leans down to become eye level, those thick lashes framing such vibrant green irises. “lie back for me, baby.” he murmurs, watching carefully as you follow his gentle command.

it isn’t often you get such a soft side of dean, hell, for years it was highly erotic work the two of you did on these nights. but you can sense something has change in him. maybe it came with age, or the constant reconciliations with life and death he faces on the road. he never shares too much, so you’ve learned to notice the smallest expressions in him to decode what might be going on inside that caged mind of his.

as of right now, all dean could think about was devouring the sweetness he’s missed over the past few months.

he gets to work undoing your belt, next the buttons of your jeans until he’s tugging both your bottoms and panties from your body. a satisfied sigh leaves his mouth as he looks over your half naked body. his eyes flick up to your shirt, clearly needing that off, too. so he hooks his thumbs and pulls it over your head, discarding it with the rest of the clothes. hovering over your frame, he trails kisses from your jaw, down your neck and across the plump part of your breasts that stick out of your bra.

“i need to see all of you.” he rasps against your skin, sliding his hands between your back and the bed to swiftly unlatch your last piece of clothing.

his hands lead the way down your sides, straight to the sensitive skin between your thighs as he pushes them apart. kneeling at the foot of your bed as if to pray, he works his mouth teasing the areas around your arousal, making the budding heat morph into need.

you arch your back as his rough hands slowly slide up and down the sides of your legs, sending shock waves into your core, “please, dean, touch me.” you quietly plead.

“easy, sweetheart.” he responds and you can feel his grin against your thigh as his lips inch closer to where you really want them. he loves this game, warming you up and getting you to quite literally begin to melt before he lets himself devour.

his uses one arm to anchor himself, large palms squeezing the thick of your thigh while his other hand travels down past your navel, pressing his thumb against your clit as he works gentle circles. too gentle, you think. you want more, need it.

“dean,” you breathe out, impatiently wiggling under his touch, “please.”

with a groan his mouth replaces his thumb. sucking and lapping at your sensitive skin as you feel a wave of relief and bliss wash over you. you lose all sense of humanity as you become a mess of whimpers and moans. your sounds fuel his hunger, working you more aggressively with his mouth as his middle and ring finger tease your entrance. lazily sliding in and out, barely pushing in.

“more, now.” you breathlessly demand. dean lets out a short laugh, pulling away from your heat. the sudden cold making you damn near writh beneath him.

“beg.” he teases, and you look down to see those green eyes glowing with amusement.

“please.” you manage, his eyes don’t leave your gaze as he lets his fingers tantalizing massage your clit.

“hm?” he hums, raising an eyebrow, completely indulging in the way your hips buck for more fiction.

“please, dean.” you groan, throwing your head back against the mattress in defeat. your mind is swirling with a deep need for more of him inside you, on you, touching you in the ways only he can do.

with a satisfied growl his lips are back to working pure bliss against your clit as his thick middle and ring fingers curl into the warmth inside you. you’re not even sure how his fingers are capable of thrusting against that sweet, aching knot inside the way they do.

all you can do is squirm and whimper as he loses himself in pleasing you.

“fuck, dean,” you gasp as everything inside tenses and tightens, his lips pull and suck while his fingers plunge deep quickly. like a skeleton key finding it’s lock, dean presses into your dam and the floods break with ease.

the release rolls through your body, soaking his face and fingers in your climax. you’re left shivering as he pulls away to stand over you. sucking on the fingers he just worked inside you, his face glimmers with pride of just how good he is at undoing you.

“god, i missed that.” you sigh, catching your breath as dean undoes his belt and kicks his jeans off. his eyes take in every inch of your body as he pulls out his thick cock, working it in his hands. just watching him makes your core begin to ache all over again.

“on your stomach, princess.” he commands, and you eagerly oblige. sticking your ass up with your thighs pressed together, just the way he likes it, and he appreciates you remembering.

you felt the mattress dip under his weight as he centers himself behind you, shoving his bulging tip between your skin until it reached your sore clit, the heightened sensitivity making you moan and pathetically hump his cock, desperate for another release. his hands squeezed each side of your ass, applying more pressure to where your bodies meet.

you rock against him, circling and bucking, trying to reach that itch, but it wasn’t enough. he knew that, but watching you use him like a toy was mesmerizing.

“mm, please, dean.” you found yourself begging again, “i need you inside me, i need you to fuck me.”

“fuck.” he groans. pulling away just quick enough to plunge inside, sending his entire thick length in, triggering a gasp from your lips.

the sudden stretch sent a chill throughout your body, making you melt further into the bed as he fell into a mind numbing rhythm. wet skin slapping against each other cut through your shared symphony of moans.

“baby, you’re so god damn tight.” he professes, squeezing your hips as he bucks harder into your cunt. his sickeningly deep voice paying such vulgar compliments made you twitch and hum.

dean’s hand slips it’s way past your navel and straight to your clit, working messily fast circles as he coaxes another release from you. your thighs squeeze together as another knot formed in the pit of your stomach.

“don’t stop, dean, please.” you begged, grabbing his wrist as if it could keep you grounded while he fucks you into senseless oblivion. his other hand presses into the small of your back, deepening your arch and allowing his tip to reach your sweet spot.

he thrusts against that spot again and again until you’re making a mess all over him, whimpering and chanting his name like it was an invocation of the divine.

your shameless release under his doing and hearing his name leave your mouth made dean’s head spin, feeling your walls tense around him turns his rhythm into a sputtering mess.

“fuck, baby.” he groans, his mind falling into a euphoric emptiness as he came inside you, bucking with the aftershock into a seeping wet mess.

completely fucked out and weak, you collapsed onto the bed. your eyes watery and heavy as you blink yourself back to earth. dean’s warm hands rub up and down your back as he trails kisses across your shoulder blades.

he didn’t want to walk away from you, have to look away from the beautiful mess he made of you. but, he knew better than to flop over and fall asleep like he did the first time you two shared a night together. then again, he was much younger and more selfish, and he had yet to grow so attached to you. something he would never admit to your face. but a part of him, buried away with the rest of his hope, wondered if you could sense how much care he had built up in the years he’s spent getting to know you in these visits.

as dean left the room, you used every ounce of strength left in you to crawl up to the pillows, relaxing as you wait, knowing exactly what he was getting up to in the bathroom attached to your room.

after a few moments, dean returns to your side. “waters warm,” he cooed with a smile, “just the way you like it.”

you giggle, sitting up “you sure do know how to treat a woman right, winchester.”

“only the ones i really like.” he responds, that gloating grin making you roll your eyes as you follow him into the shower.

⤜

the warm water felt incredible on your skin, enveloping your tired body as dean stood over you, his fingers massaging your scalp as he works vanilla scented conditioner into your hair.

“is this shit why you always smell so good?” he wonders aloud, and you could just see his face in that cute puzzled expression of his, despite facing the opposite direction.

“yes,” you laugh, “my body wash is cookie butter scented, too.”

“ah,” he sighs, “makes sense. wait, is that on purpose?”

“what do you mean?” you ask, turning to face him and let the water rinse the sweet soap from your locks.

“well, i mean, i always wanna take a bite when i’m around you.” he grins.

“are you saying you want to eat me, dean?” you tease, collecting more conditioner from the bottle and reaching up to rake it through dean’s hair.

“well,” he began, an eyebrow lifting as that familiar smug expression graces his features, “i already have.”

you pinch his arm in retaliation, shaking your head at his smart mouth.

“ow,” he feigns, rubbing the spot your fingers were. “hey, can’t say you hated it, right?”

“rinse your hair, asshat.” you chime, switching places. you take notice in the way his arms flex as he works the conditioner out of his hair. his muscles have certainly grown over the last few months, and you try not to wonder what kind of bad he’s fighting to make him get stronger.

“oh, aren’t you shameless, sweetheart.” he chuckles, winking before he continues, “checking me out while i wash the girlpoo from my hair.”

“the girlpoo?” you echo, brows knitting in amused confusion.

“yeah,” he states plainly, “girl-sham-poo.” he emphasizes each part of the words as if that makes any sense of what he’s said.

“dean, it's a conditioner. and,” you smile, “can’t say you hate it, right?”

“shut up.” he retorts, sending a playful glare. you smile at his usual go-to when he can’t find a way to give slack back. he reaches over and turns off the shower, grabbing the two towels he prepared earlier and handing one over. you internally cringe at the way he barely wipes any water off of his body, stepping out into the bathroom and leaving puddles in his wake. some things never change.

entering your room, you ruffle through the dresser draw packed with sleep clothes until you find your favorite big shirt to slip on. turning, you find a naked dean already beneath the covers, watching you. seeing him in your bed again reminds you of a time before.

“do you always sleep naked?” you ask, snuggled into the comforter, lying just inches from that gorgeously crafted face.

“no,” dean sighs, “i actually am usually dressed, or close to it when i sleep.”

“why?” you ask.

dean pauses for a moment, those sweet green eyes clouding under whatever memories tumble beneath the surface, “i guess i can’t sleep any other way, always have to be ready.”

you consider his words, you still don’t fully understand the world he lives in but you’ve been trying to, “but not here?”

this earns a smile from the tired man, “no, not here.”

“hey, is that my shirt?” dean’s question disrupts your thoughts, bringing you back into the quiet of your dark bedroom. you look down, scanning the worn out t-shirt you’ve been sleeping in for years now.

“i think so, actually,” you respond, “from… what, ‘08? that time you spent almost a whole week with me for a reason you still have yet to tell me.”

dean pauses, knowing damn well why he didn’t tell you. and he wasn’t going to now, either, because the last time he told you about his dance with life and death you went on a rant about how even dean winchester himself isn’t invincible, be careful, stay alive, and whatever else you blubbered out like a scolding parent. he wasn’t in the mood for it tonight.

“yeah, don’t remember.” he grinned, lifting his arm to invite you in, “care to join me?” he asks.

rolling your eyes at his avoidance, you slip into the blankets. his arm finds your waist, pulling you close to his body.

he brings a hand to your face, stealing a soft kiss before wrapping his arm again, tucking you into his chest. you somehow did forget the way dean cuddles is awfully aggressive, clutching you like a toy. but, as all the times before, you don’t mind it. there's a security in his arms you have yet to find elsewhere. you can hear the morning birds beginning to sing outside your bedroom window. by past patterns you estimate about four hours of sweet comfort before you’re left alone in this bed again. the wondrous dean winchester has a life to get back to, and you do, too. but you can’t ignore the tugging in your chest each time he leaves without a goodbye.

──────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

ooof this one was fun to write !!! probably one of my fave things to daydream about is being the one dean returns to throughout the years for some solace in his life (luv being delulu, thinking i could heal this man) but maybe i'll do more oneshots with this scenario tho, hmmm much to think about

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x fem!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction

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xjcjuis · 2 days ago

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LAZY DAYS

pairing: billie eilish x reader

synopsis: just me craving soft billie fics "with biting as a love language"

warnings: no pronouns used but female implied ; 'sweet girl'

wordcount: 0.8k

a/n: there isn't enough billie fluff (i need a hug from billie)

"don't go yet, please," you whine, eyes tightly clamped shut as you reach over to grab onto billie. unfortunately, your arm falls short and drops back down onto the covers empty.

forcing your eyelids open and momentarily getting blinded by the light of reality, you discover that she was, in fact, not lying beside you but rather sitting at the foot of your bed. she seems to be on a call, with her phone in hand and over her ear. billie's voice was soft, apparently not sensing that you were up and still careful not to wake you.

"babe?" you call out, sort of whispering. your girlfriend turns to you, smiling slightly and then gesturing to the device in her hand. you nod in understanding, waiting for her to hang up.

however, the way-too-familiar bedroom was running out of interesting stuff to look at, so naturally your gaze returns to billie. it's only been a few minutes, but to you it feels like hours, and her phone call still hasn't finished.

with a huff, you gently shove off the covers slipping down your shoulders as you scoot over to your girlfriend. your arms move on their own, hooking underneath her arms and around her waist as you rest your cheek on her back, smiling.

billie's hand instantly rests upon your own around her. you breathe in, inhaling her scent and feeling her warmth flood into you. the soft material of her t-shirt, the strands of her hair lightly tickling your cheek, the comfort her body brings from the hug.

you remain in that position for a moment before you turn your head to rest your chin upon her shoulder instead, staring at the side of her face as she continues to speak softly.

beautiful, was all you could think as your eyes traced her jaw, her skin, her nose, her lashes. perfect, was all your mind screams as you watch her lips move in conversation, pink and soft and so damn kissable if it weren't for the fact that she had an important call.

you puff out air once more, moving back to stare at her shoulder before biting it gently, with her still in your embrace. she jerks a little but relaxes immediately, your actions already familiar.

the corner of your mouth quirks up, now chomping on her shoulder with your lips over your teeth. proud of your little handiwork (aka the small bite marks on her shirt), you end it with a kiss to the cloth of her shirt before settling with nuzzling your face into her neck.

finally her call ends.

"good morning, my love," billie grins, turning around and basically tackling you back onto the bed. she holds you in her arms below her, her expression as soft as the morning sun peeking through the windows. you let out a small shriek of surprise at her actions, placing a hand delicately on her cheek and reaching up to kiss her right on the corner of her lip.

the smile turns into a pout. "you missed, sweet girl."

"hmm, what?" you tease, admiring the way she seemed to glow.

billie rolls her eyes playfully, leaning in to peck your lips. "tease." she taps your nose lovingly, shifting so that the sun shone straight through and onto your face. your eyes shut in instinct, a soft giggle escaping from you when she brushes her lips over your eyelids, just enough to be considered featherlight kisses.

she sits up abruptly, pulling you up with her so that you sat between her legs and quite stuck in her hold. not that you were complaining.

she peppers kisses along your head as you, once again, take her forearm into your mouth and bite. "i just got off call. i have a day-off today."

you stop your attack before she even finishes her sentence, turning to look up at her with starry eyes. "really?"

"mhm." she hums in confirmation and kisses your nose.

you hastily extract yourself from her and kneel on the mattress before her. "can we go out for breakfast?" your eyes are wide with hope, already placing an order in your mind for pancakes and syrup and hot chocolate and perhaps dessert. billie laughs softly at your excitement.

"of course, my love. on me."

with a squeal, you basically fly off the bed to search for something to wear. billie's laugh intensifies, watching you rummage through the closet before speaking up. "hey, aren't you forgetting something?"

you pause mid-swipe, waddling back over to her still sitting on her bed, and kissing her quickly on the lips. as you move away to resume your search, she stops you by the wrist. "uh-uh. not enough."

this time billie kisses you fully, and... you end up being a little late for breakfast.

#🍵. . . espresso! [works]#billie eilish #billie eilish fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fic #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish x you #billie eilish oneshot #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie fluff #billie eilish fluff #fluff #billie eilish x female reader #fem!reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #billie eilish x gender neutral reader #billie eilish x gn!reader

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lemonmaid · 16 hours ago

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A snip i need to get out of my head before bed. (Warnings pregnant reader, not proofed read, I'm so fucking tired)

Poly 141 x pregnant reader.

When you told the boys that you were pregnant, many many emotions but not one was negative towards you.

Johnny was excited, immediately thinking of names and happy that they almost have enough people for a football team (john thinks rugby would be a better sport but who is asking).

Simon who is immediately nervous due to his own family issues, he knows therapy can help with this but he'll be damn if he is ever like his father.

Kyle who is immediately thinking why it is important to know who the father is, even if he isn't the bio dad he is still gonna buy the proper hair products just in case.

John who is already crying, he is a big papa bear now and he couldn't be more happy.

Over the course of your pregnancy, the boys are literally waiting hand and foot for you.

Simon refuses to let you do anything on your own. You want to help with the nursery? No sit down and rest. You need to bend down and grab something you dropped? Nah call him even if he is at work.

John is up your ass about you doing exercises and taking your prenatal vitamins. He wakes you up at eight in the morning to do a light work out for your core muscle then makes you wind down for bed by 9 pm.

Johnny is always ready to make a snack run, even if John is against it, hell he even got back up emergency snacks in the car. Even though you all share an Alaskan king bed, reach over and shove him awake so he can do a quick errand.

Kyle is always with you when you are shopping, 100% he will agree with you on any clothing for the baby, you want the cutest expensive baby towel that is good for eczema? No problem. You think we should do cloth diapers? You're absolutely right, save nature.

When you have to get a body pillow/pregnancy pillow to support your stomach the boys are upset that they can't cuddle you without the pillow being in the way (or the little shit kicks them and it hurts you).

The boys love, LOVE it when you wear tight shirts, I mean look at that adorable bump and Jesus christ your breast have gotten so big.

Speaking of breast, Johnny is always looking at you like a kicked dog when you don't let him "help" you pump.

Please tell them when something hurts. Because these boys take everything too serious. When you started having braksion hicks, they were so paranoid. It got to a point where when you were in labor you didn't tell them untill they were 5 minutes apart. Which freaked them out, rushing you to the hospital.

The boys are 100% supportive of your birth plan, they really are.

But as soon as the contractions hit and they see your pained expression, they are immediately second guessing.

John is bluntly telling you to take the epidural.

Simon is rubbing your back telling you that there is no reward for having a natural birth.

But, you progress, practicing your breathing exercises, you've been training for this moment. You decided to bounce and roll on the yoga ball that was offered in the room, it help with the pressure.

Johnny is the one who has been trying to sneak you food, happy wife (or partner) happy life. But Kyle is nagging him how you cannot have food when you are close to labor (you're only 2 cm and it's been four hours).

Simon is encouraging you to sleep and rest, when you obviously can't Johnny is helping you recheck the diaper bag for the tenth time that night.

Kyle who is walking with you up and down the hall, purposely walking down the hall with the window where you can see the other newborns.

John who is now having panic attack, 'oh god I'm going to be a father'.

When it's finally time to start pushing, one of the nurses tries pushing out the others, thinking that John is the father. It wasn't untill your midwife told them to leave them be and that they can stay.

Simon and John who are holding your hands as you pushed, Johnny is playing with your hair to help distract you from the pain and Kyle is wiping your forehead.

When everyone hears the sharp cry that echoes in the room, the gasp is heard, when the newborn is placed on your chest, they can't help but shed a tear.

Simon and Johnny are telling you that you did an amazing job. Kyle is kissing your head, comforting your cries, John is watching the nurses every move with the newborn.

They all couldn't be more happier.

#poly 141 #task force 141 #141 x reader #task force 141 imagine #task force x reader #poly task force 141 #johnny mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #kyle gaz x reader #pregnant reader #fluff #cod imagine #cod x reader

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littlemissmentallyunstable · 1 day ago

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title: an emotional rollercoaster

pairing: xander hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you hate rollercoasters but with a little persuasion xander manages to get you on one only you’d forgotten how badly you couldn’t handle them

warnings: dizziness/feeling faint

a/n: hope you enjoy 🤍🤍

taglist: @lovethornes @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @fleuriosa @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket @lanterns-and-daydreams @hermesenthusiast

“No!” I exclaim for the fiftieth time , throwing my head back and laughing.

“Please,” Xander begs, pulling out his puppy dog eyes.

Usually they’d work but with what was at stake I was not about to let them win me over this time.

I turn my head stubbornly, “no.”

“Please!” he says desperately.

“Xander I already told you I’m not going on any of these,” I remind him with a smile.

I mean I wasn’t going to come at all, it was a miracle Xander got me out of the house. Theme parks were not my scene, I hated rollercoasters and people and crowds and basically everything about the place. Still, Xander had begged me to go and I had obliged. Damn those puppy dog eyes.

“They’re honestly not that bad,” he says, glancing up at one of the largest death-inducing machines of mankind.

“Nu-uh we had a deal,” I reply stubbornly, “I would come to the theme park and watch everyone else if I didn’t have to go on any of the rides.”

He looks at me pleadingly, “just one.”

“No Xand I hate them,” I deadpan.

“You could handle this one easily,” he rolls his eyes playfully pointing to one with about six loops.

“I told you about my rollercoaster trauma!” I exclaim, glaring at him.

“You were five and under the height limit,” he reminds me.

“And I still passed out,” I almost yell.

“Just one tiny weeny little ride,” he says, squinting excessively and making weird hand gestures as if I’d magically be convinced.

“No,” I chuckle, “how do you not understand that word?”

“He hasn’t since he was about two,” Jameson chirps in passing, walking off to a food cart with Avery, “you’ll get used to it.”

Xander jabs him in ribs as he passes and the turns back to me. A stubborn dog with a bone. Nearly as stubborn as me.

“Come on,” he sings, “you know you want to.”

I raise an eyebrow, “in what alternate universe is that?”

He opens his mouth to reply but I already know what he is going to say.

“The answer is no,” I reply.

“What if…” he grins with that mischievous Hawthorne look in his eyes, “…you ride this one with me I’ll buy you ten books on the way home.”

I stop. Physically come to a halt to process the possibility. Ten books. Ten whole books. It’s an irresistible offer and he knows it.

“Even the limited edition version of shatter me?” I test him.

I’ve been begging him for months and the only reason he’s said no is because I have five other copies at home. Even though I insist this one is a must, he strongly disagrees.

He sighs, his chocolate eyes flicking to me with a withered expression, “yes even the limited edition of shatter me.”

My jaw drops as I grab his arm and I almost start to jump up and down, “are you kidding?”

“One ride baby and it’s all yours,” Xander winks back.

There’s a long pause. I hate rollercoasters, I hate theme parks, I hate the thought of going on a ride but I love books, I love the shatter me series and I would love limited edition copy…

Decisions, decisions…

“Fine,” I grumble.

His whole face lights up and my heart swells, I love it when he looks like this, “you’re serious?”

“One ride for ten books one of which a limited edition, sounds like a pretty good deal for me,” I shrug, the nerves creeping in as I realise what I’m really getting myself into.

“So you mean for the whole of today I could’ve bribed you with books,” he says, staring at me like I was his world as he tucked my hair behind my ears.

“Probably,” I nod.

“Damn it,” he mutters.

I poke my tongue out and begin to walk again.

Xander laughs and holds my shoulders, softly turning me around, “the line is this way honey.”

He steers me over to an extremely lengthy queue leading to something I knew I seriously did not want to set foot on. I gape at the line.

“It’s worth the wait,” Xander explains, reading my expression.

“Indeed it is,” comes a familiar voice. I spin around to find Jameson behind me, joining the queue.

“Where did you come from?” Xander asks.

“The food cart line was too long and I got distracted,” he shrugs.

“And we’ve wanted to do on this all day,” Avery adds pointing up.

I stare at her, “this?”

“Yep,” Jameson nods, leaning on the railing, “so how comes Xander’s roped you into this one.”

“He promised me books,” I explain.

He grins at Xander, “smart one.”

He looks around, “where did everyone else go?”

“Lib went on the death drop again and of course Nash said yes to going with her practically with hearts pulsating in his eyes,” Jameson continues .

“She’s addicted to that ride,” Xander chuckles, shaking his head

I tilt my head to admire him. It‘s hard not to. I like to just watch him sometimes, the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards every few seconds, the way his eyes light up when he talks to his brother, everything, I loved everything.

“I know,” Jameson hums in response, “Grayson and Lyra made a bet on who could walk in a straight line and not spill any water after the teacups, my money is on Lyra.”

“Mine too,” he says, “how does Gray think he stands a chance with all the pirouettes she can do?”

Jameson shrugs, “ he’s a stubborn idiot.”

“Not like you can say much then,” Avery smiles, batting her eyelashes at him.

Jameson slips an arm around her waist and pulls her in, “that one hurt heiress.”

“What a shame,” she murmurs, her gaze pinned to his green eyes.

From then on their conversation sort of blurs. There’s sound but I don’t identify any of the words. It’s all in the background, I’m too busy analysing the death wish to which I’d signed a forever binding contract to. How had I managed to be persuaded so easily?

“Don’t look so petrified,” Xander mumbles into my hair, wrapped his around me from the back and reeling me into his chest.

“It’s a little difficult,” I reply, not breaking eye contact from the rollercoaster.

“You might love it,” he says.

“Trust me when I tell you, I will not,” I scoff.

“I can’t believe he convinced you,” Avery says, shaking her head.

“I am magical like that,” Xander responds and I can hear the grin I loved so much in his voice.

“Sure,” Jameson rolls his eyes.

“Hey!”

I look at Jameson, “have you been on this one before?”

“Only a thousand times,” Jameson grins, “me and Xander used to stuff things in our shoes to surpass the height limit so we could go on with Nash and Gray.”

My jaw drops without my consent, “and none of you have ever died?”

“Well Gray’s a bit emotionally dead but-“ Jameson begins, when Avery whacks him and gives him a sharp warning look, “hey ow! let me finish! But that has nothing to do with a rollercoaster.”

“Good to know,” I sigh.

“You’ll be fine,” Xander soothes, rubbing my and own my arms, “don’t worry about it.”

“Unless you fall out,” Jameson smirks, “then you most definitely won’t be fine.”

Avery’s glare becomes more piercing and a fear I wasn’t used to seeing in Jameson flickers across his face. Usually it would amuse me to see him scared but right now I was too focussed on my own worries.

“Jamie don’t be mean,” she snaps.

“I mean it’s a fact if you fall out-“

“Pay no attention to what comes out of his mouth,” she cuts him off, addressing me, “I don’t half the time.”

“Ouch heiress you know how to cut me deep,” Jameson winces holding the left side of his chest.

Avery takes a step closer to him, tilting her head up softly to meet his gaze, a small smile laces her lips, “I know how to do a lot more than that.”

I watch them, wondering if me and Xander ever looked that in love.

“Guys, get a room,” Xander announces.

I wrinkled my nose.

“I didn’t even mean it like that!” Avery exclaims.

“Sure!” he rolls his eyes with a scoff.

I step to the side and tilt my head seeing the endless queue of people. If the queue is as long as I think it is I might never reach the front. Perfect I wouldn’t have to die on a rollercoaster, just in the line for one.

“How long is this queue?” I ask, changing the subject

“Not that long,” Jameson shrugs, “wait time’s only an hour.”

“An hour?” I gape in my surprise, “people queue an hour for this?”

“Says the girl who camped out when Holly Black came to a book signing,” Xander teases.

I fold my arms and stare at him with my eyebrows raised, “your point?”

“This is people’s Holly Black book signing,” he explains.

“This?” I almost yell in disbelief, “this death trap?”

“Precisely.”

I shake my head, “I will never understand people.”

“That’s what I love about you,” he winks.

I narrow my eyes as he takes the small of my back into his palms, “the only thing?” I ask softly.

“Of course not,” he grins, “but if I sat here and listed it to you we’d be dead before I got to the end.”

“How morbidly adorable,” I reply dryly, secretly melting inside.

He laughs, his eyes sparkling with something that made my heart race, “I love you.”

“If you loved me I would not be in this line,” I deadpan.

“And if you loved me you’d ride this rollercoaster with me,” he counters, poking his tongue out.

“See I never said I loved you back when you told me you loved me,” I shrug.

“Your eyes did though,” Xander replies, making my cheeks tint a gentle pink colour.

A smile breaks out into my face and steals away my features, “what did I tell you about reading my eyes?”

“Are you two quite finished?” Jameson coughs.

“No we haven’t snogged yet,” I snap back, “shut up.”

“I mean you can’t say a lot Jamie,” Xander adds, “you and Avery are x rated compared to us.”

“We are not x rated,” Avery steps in.

“Oh so when I walked in on you-“

“We’re in public Xander,” Jameson yells, panic and desperation flickering through his eyes.

Xander smiles satisfactorily, “that’s what I thought.”

“Let them have their moment Jamie,” Avery murmurs softly, taking his hand.

I look back to Xander, “where were we?”

“You were complaining about my eye reading tendencies,” he answers, flashing me a grin.

“Well,” I shrug softly, “it’s not fair you know what I’m thinking all the time.”

“You want to know what I’m thinking right now?” he whispers, forehead pressed against mine.

“Hmmm,” I hum.

“I’m thinking I want to kiss you,” he murmurs, his voice is low and in the back of his throat, making my insides go weak.

I let my lips nearly sit on his, “then why aren’t you?”

He smiles and slowly initiates this kiss. His lips brush over mine so gentle and tentative. His hands slide in my back, then around my neck and finally cupping my face.

“Has that helped with the nerves?” he asks a hint of seduction in his voice that he only used when we were in particular circumstances.

“You might need to do it again,” I say with doe eyes.

“I don’t want to traumatise too many kids we might get kicked out,” he chuckles.

“If we get kicked out that means I don’t have to go on this ride,” I beam.

“That’s why we’re not getting kicked out,” he says, booping the tip of my nose.

I sigh. It was worth a shot.

“It feels like I’ve moved nowhere,” I complain, peering down at the line that’s just as long as before.

“They’re very little steps,” he reasons.

I say, my aching limbs weighing like lead, “Xand my legs hurt.”

“Come here then…”

He opens his arms and I lazily lean on him like he’s my life support. He wraps his arms around me and brings me into a comforting hug. I’d always loved being in Xander’s arms, he was hands down the world’s best hugger. I felt safe and warm and loved.

“You tired?” he asks, probably noticing my eyes drooping slightly.

“Mhmmm.”

He laughs, “you look so cute right now,”

“Stop it,” I blush, shying away from his gaze.

“You do,” he says, “your face was all squished.”

“Oh thanks,” I reply sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

“I love it.”

“That is not a compliment,” I say, leaning back onto him again. My wimps of legs aching as if I’d never held my own weight up before.

“Here get on my back,” Xander offers.

“You want go piggy back me?” I raise my eyebrows, folding my arms.

He looks me dead in the eyes, as serious as Xander gets, “yes, I want to piggy back you.”

I hesitate before I remember who I’m dating, then I shrug, “okay.”

And with that I just casually hopped onto his back and rebranded myself of his personal backpack.

“I feel like a koala,” I murmur into his ear.

“Don’t koalas usually cling onto the front?” Xander asks.

I shrug, “I don’t know, I’m not a koala expert.”

I rest my head on his shoulder and slump onto him. I can feel my nerves growing. I’ve tried to suppress them and distract myself from feeling them but now they were on the rise the closer to the front we got. I subconsciously play with the fabric of Xander’s shirt rubbing the fibres gently between my fingers over and over in a rhythmic pattern.

“What’s wrong?” he asks me. He knows me so well it hurts.

“Oh,” I murmur, a little consumed in my own anxious thoughts, “no nothing.”

“You sure?”

I hum in response as we take another step closer to the front of the queue. From the amount of people in front of us I assumed we’d be in the next lot to board. I chew the inside of my lip accidentally piercing it, the taste of metal filling my mouth.

“Xand,” my voice shakes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to do this,” I tell him.

He sets me down and places him hands on my hips, “what are you scared of?”

“Dying,” I reply immediately.

“Well that’s not going to happen at all and I can tell you that for sure,” he comforts.

“What if it does?”

“I won’t let it,” he replies, “besides we’re in the queue now there’s no turning back.”

“There is I can turn around right now and walk back that way,” I say pointing behind him.

Xander grins, “no no no, we are here now.”

We take another step forwards and the people infront of us begin to get on. We’re getting closer and closer to the start. My heart pounds in my chest, I can hear it roaring through my ears.

I stumble backwards in a panic, “I can’t do this, I actually can’t do it.”

“Yes you can,” he says gently, “I’ve got you.”

“Xander,” I exhale rubbing my temples, “I am freaking out.”

“Hold my hand.”

“Unless your hand has some magic anti-panic power that is really not going to help,” I exclaim.

“Good thing I’ve been brushing up on my sorcery,” he jokes with a witty expression.

“Xand I’m serious,” I hyperventilate with a deadly look in my eyes.

“Well you’re on it now,” he shrugs.

My jaw nearly drops, I’m sat on the rollercoaster and I hadn’t even realised I’d gotten on. I’d been too focussed on my mess of feelings that I’d been led on.

“I think I should get off,” I squeeze his hand.

“If you really want to you should,” Xander says with a soft look in his eyes.

I don’t move. My brain is telling me to but some force is pulling me down to my seat. Maybe I’m trying to prove something to myself or maybe I just really want that book. Whatever it is, I remain where I am.

I look at him with a determined sharpness in my eyes, “give me your hand.”

He beams widely and extends his arm, squeezing my palm in his.

“If you let go of me I will kill you,” I snap.

He tilts his head to the side and shoot me a lopsided grin, “I’ll never let go of you.”

And then it begins.

***

I had my eyes closed for the whole ride, screamed even when it had stopped and probably made Xander’s hand go purple with how tightly I was squeezing it.

The world spins as we get off and I stumble to meet the others.

“You’re looking a little pale there y/n,” Nash drawls, his eyebrow arched in concern.

“Feel dizzy,” I slur, panicked. I reach for my boyfriend, “Xand?”

My voice is barely a sound, you can hear the fear infecting every note.

“I got you,” he murmurs, supporting me with a hand around his waist .

His hand is warm against my side, still I can’t stand straight, “I hate you,” I grumble.

“I know,” he says, pulling me in closer so all of my weight is practically on him.

“I hated that.”

“I know.”

“I’m going to fall over,” I warn him, feeling my legs about to give way, “and my head really hurts.”

“Come here,” Xander tells me gently.

I wrap my arms around his neck and he lifts me up into his arms, bridal style. My heavy head lolls towards him chest and collides with it.

“I’m just going to close my eyes to stop the spinning,” I say, my words disjointed and distant.

“You do that sweetie” he leans down and kisses my forehead and I feel his grip tighten around me.

“What did you do to her?” Libby asks, I can feel her gentle hand on my forehead checking for a temperature.

“I didn’t do anything,” Xander defends, “the giant metal contraption to our left however, did some real damage.”

“You got her on a rollercoaster,” I hear Lyra say and I can imagine her jaw is dropped, given the many conversations we’d had on how I would never go on a rollercoaster.

“Biggest life regret,” I mumble, eyes still shut.

Xander explains, “I promised to buy her books.”

“Who knew she could be so easily bribed,” Grayson comments dryly.

“Never again,” I groan, burying my face into Xander’s shirt to block out the light. I can smell him, his scent. It’s sweet, it’s comforting, it’s home. My heart rate slows a little and I feel my limbs relax.

“She looks like she’s dying,” Jameson responds.

“Thanks,” I scoff sarcastically with all the energy I had left.

Avery snaps, barely half a beat after me, “Jameson that’s horrible!” I hear a thump and a dramatic ‘ow’ and presume Avery whacked him.

“I feel like I’m dying,” I shrug, regretting trying to support my own head.

“Geez Xand I think you broke her,” Lyra says.

“Then I’ll fix her right back up,” he replies.

“I think she’s past the point of fixing,” Jameson says.

“Nothing is past the point of fixing,” Xander responds, a hard determination in his voice.

“Do we need to call someone or get some help?” Libby asks her eyebrows pinching together with a maternal concern.

I try to shake my head and fail miserably, “I’m just dizzy, it’ll pass.”

“Give her a sip of water,” Nash advises handing Libby a bottle.

She gently lifts my head and tips some down my throat, making sure I’d swallowed before I laid back down.

“Better?” I hear her ask.

“Yeah,” I respond.

“You’re a pathetic liar sweetheart,” Xander says with a small laugh.

“Shut up I’m fine,” I reply, although I very much did not feel fine.

“I’m going to take you home.”

Guilt twinges in my stomach.

“No, no,” I rush, trying to sit up in his arms and failing miserably, “don’t ruin your day, just stick me on the floor and I’ll be fine.”

It’s a total lie but I don’t care. He shouldn’t have to miss out because I can’t handle something.

“We’ll see you guys a bit later,” he turns to the others, before beginning to walk towards the exit.

“Xander I’m fine, it’s fine,” I say, squirming, “put me down.”

“Stop talking sweetheart it’s going to hurt your head,” Xander replies planting another kiss on my forehead.

“Don’t drop me then,” I murmur helplessly, clinging to him even tighter.

“Even if my arms go numb there’s no way I’m letting you go,” he says.

I wince, “I was not built for rollercoasters.”

“No you weren’t my love,” Xander agrees softly.

I groan in response, the spinning getting progressively worse.

“I’m sorry sweetie,” he says as he tentatively strokes my cheek, “I didn’t think it’d make you feel this bad.”

“I did try to warn you,” I murmur leaning into his touch.

“I know I’m sorry,” he replies and I can hear the worry in his voice,

I fall back into his arms and close my eyes to relieve myself from the dizziness, “I don’t want you to miss out because of me,” I whisper, “I don’t want your day to be ruined because I can handle a stupid little rollercoaster.”

“I’m not missing out,” he reassures me, “I’ve got everything I could ever want bundled in my arms right now,”

“That was really cute,” I giggle, “and I’ll appreciate more when I’m not seeing stars.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, real guilt thickening his tone.

I had only meant it as a joke but hearing that rawness in his voice made something in my heart twist. My mind paints the ashamed look in his kind eyes. I despise the thought.

“Don’t feel bad,” I say quickly.

He forces a chuckle, “I do feel bad.”

“You know how you can make it up to me?” I open my eyes, and see double of him, not that I mind. Two Xander’s aren’t so bad to look at.

“No ,” he frowns, “how?”

***

I curl up with my special edition shatter me novel, taking in each word. I know it’s going to be the best reread of my life. I can’t help but keep flicking back to admire the cover. It’s the most gorgeous thing I own.

Everything stopped spinning around an hour after I got off of that death trap and I can actually make out the words.

I feel his eyes on me, I always can. I look up with a grin and to no surprise I’m right. Xander’s standing there staring at me, a small smile lacing his lips. He looks at me like I’m worth more than each and every blueberry scone in the universe, which is a big compliment from him.

He walks over and sits down beside me and I notice two mugs in each of his hands. One is decadently topped with whip cream, chocolate shavings sprinkles and a whole world of other things and the other was plain. I think it was safe to say who’s was who’s. He passes me a the non-embellished steaming mug and I can’t help but smile, “worth it?” he asks me, eyebrows raised at the book.

“For my mental health,” I begin slowly, “no, for this book, absolutely.”

“You’re a little odd,” he shoots me a very Hawthorne grin, “has anyone ever told you that?”

I move closer to him, “I may have heard it here and there.”

“But that’s why I love you,” he whispers cupping my face in his hands.

“Good thing I love you too then,” I murmur with a little laugh as his lips crash into mine.

hey lovelies!! yes I am alive!!

sorry this isn’t a req fic and sorry it’s taken me so long to get another fic out, I’ve had loads of tests lately and a busy time in general. hopefully I’ll be able to write more regularly when it’s all done but for now unfortunately it’ll be a bit hit and miss, hope you can understand <33

TIG masterlist

#bella writes 🤍#the inheritance games #xander hawthorne x y/n #xander blackwood hawthorne #xander hawthorne x reader #xander hawthorne #alexander hawthorne #alexander blackwood hawthorne #tig #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #the hawthorne brothers

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burningcheese-merchant · 3 days ago

Note

Xcuse me but I forgot very important questions about BS parenthood.

Does he teach the kids more things besides fighting? Is he a cool dad, stoic dad, protective dad or "over-the-moon" dad? Does he gives romantic advises to his son? Does he let his little beast princess play with boys her age? Does he dreads the day when she falls in love? (I have the headcannon over my own BurningCheese fankid that whatever girl/boyfriend she gets they need to AT LEAST be able to put up with him in battle)

Yay, more questions from my buddy Almellow 🗣️🔥🙌

Spice is 100% "over-the-moon dad" when they're babies. It's a pleasant surprise to many to see him so genuinely bubbly and smiley (not to Golden, though, she knows his soft side by now and is just happy to see him enjoying being a father). It's really cute. (I like the concept of hyper-masculine men being soft and loving towards their families ok)

As they grow up, he becomes a mix of all those dad modes, really. Mostly Cool Dad, because having your kids look at you like you're larger than life is just the best. (He's also not the best at disciplining them a lot of the time tbh. He wants to indulge their foolishness, it's more fun. He ends up acting like a child himself, wanting to have fun with his children. And then they all get chastised by Golden together after they break something lol)

He's less protective than you'd imagine him to be; not because he doesn't care, but because he really does have that much faith in their strength right from the get-go. It's actually Golden that's the overprotective one, at least when they're little; he had to coax her into letting them start their warrior training because she kept wanting to push it back and making excuses to do so. (She just can't bear the thought of her little ones getting hurt. She's lost so much already. If anything happened to her children, her little gems... Spice is the one to convince her to have faith in the kids and let them do things. Of course they'll get hurt, she and him get hurt all the time still and they're adults. But they'll be fine. They're tough. They have to nurture that toughness, not stifle it. They can't protect them forever... But they don't need to. The kids can stand on their own two feet. He's never doubted either of them for a second, for any reason. She shouldn't, either.) But make no mistake, Papa Bear is alive and well, just dormant. Only coming out when necessary. You want to see the old Burning Spice? You want to see the Beast of Destruction again? Hurt those kids. Harm a single hair on their heads. Make them cry, make them bleed. Knock on that devil's door enough and Burning Spice will answer it, and he will greet you with that axe of his and that fiery, seething hatred that once consumed his soul and helped burn away countless others'.

Burning Spice trying to talk to his son about love is a really amusing thought lol. I don't think he'd go out of his way to do it until he actually notices his son expressing some form of interest in someone, then it's honestly 50% Lighthearted Dad Mockery™️ and 50% Actually Trying to Teach My Son How to Be Smooth™️. Pepper Jack is having less than none of it, this is all embarrassing as hell, he doesn't want to hear a damn word from his father's mouth (he's a teenager by this point, what teen wants their dad to try to coach them on how to flirt lol). He tries to shut Spice down with sarcasm (Jack is the KING of backtalk and smartassery when he's a teenager, he's a damn menace) or just questioning his wisdom in general. He likes to bring up how annoying and gross Spice and Golden always are (unapologetic PDA constantly lol). He's already forced to witness what "love" and flirting look like, he doesn't need his father pouring salt in his wounds

(Jack once made the mistake of going "didn't you used to be weird and creepy towards Mother" once, as a sort of "gotcha". It made Spice genuinely upset and angry and he tore Jack a new one that lol. Jack felt bad (and kind of scared. Spice never really gets truly angry with the kids, but Jack has seen him get angry with others, and... Oh Lord) and apologized, promising he wouldn't say anything like that again. Things were cold and awkward between them for, like, a week. And then Spice got over it and went back to annoying his son like usual lol)

As for Matar Paneer... She's his princess. His little girl. His little flower. (He has nicknames for both of them lol. He really does love them very much.) She can play with who she wants, so long as she's happy and no harm comes to her (but again, he believes in her strength wholeheartedly and expects her to kick ass if trouble comes by). But... Oh. When she's old enough to date... Poor Spice, he's so miserable lol. He would unironically own and wear this shirt:

If Burning Spice is saying he'd gladly go back to prison for something, you best believe he's being sincere lol

It's Golden that has to step in here. Before, he was the one soothing her worries; now the roles are reversed. She needs Spice to understand that Paneer is a becoming a young woman and she has the right to pursue and be pursued if she wishes. It's ok to care and worry, but he has to let her live and grow. (She's her mother and has always been a girl's girl, she knows what's up and will always be 100% in Paneer's corner in this regard.) Spice once asked her to have more faith in them, now she's asking him to do the same. (And, of course, he can brutally murder whoever hurts Paneer, if that really does happen. But he'll have to wait his turn, because Golden already plans to do the same ☺️)

And yeah, of course Spice teaches them stuff besides fighting. He's happy to do so. He teaches them how to meditate (he gets back into that after he reforms. Jack picks it up a lot faster than Paneer does lol). He teaches them to make the traditional Wild Spice dishes he still remembers how to do himself (he lets the other spices teach them the rest). He... teaches them about history. About the Wild Spices' history, and about history in general. He sounds so... somber when he talks about things like that. It's strange to them. They're used to seeing him act lively and wear that sharp-toothed grin he's always got. But it must mean that what he's saying is really important, right? He wouldn't look and sound like that if he wasn't being serious, right?

#and of course he teaches Jack: “Remember son... dying is gay”#also I love that headcanon of yours. That is Peak Spice behavior. More please #you should tell us about your fankid too. I wanna know them :)#cookie run kingdom #burning spice cookie #golden cheese cookie #burningcheese #goldenspice #cookie run oc #cookie run fankid

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jadkyll · 19 hours ago

Text

i like thinking about azul and a spiritual reader-

cw: azul has a single thought alluding to his past body issues, azul doesn’t believe in zodiacs 😞 but he will now 😼

—

azul seeing you one day, legs across your heartslabyul friends lap on a bench in the court yard.

jade, actually, was the one to point you out (more like sharply elbow into his gills- ribs he meant!) to the octomer.

you were boredly flicking through your phone as the one called ‘mackeral’ by floyd chased grim around groups of lingering students. “like those cartoons of the chicken chasing the wolf” floyd mused with his brother. but azul was too busy screen peeking as he walked by.

you were on that mage-tok, and a document in your notes.

azul’s eyes widen when you scroll down and start typing into search ‘retrograde’- yet he was too far past to see what else you were typing.

he didn’t need to look back to know what you were searching.

“it seems like our little prefect is looking for some… celestial guidance” jade’s smile is damning as he looks at his brother, arms lyingly behind his head giving the moray a bored demeanor.

yet his brother and octofriend know the truth. the three already devising a plan.

‘a happy accident’ azul scowls externally at the memory of jade’s knowing eyes. but what was worse than that stupid glint in his eye was the evil shine in his pearly white, carnivorous smile.

a shit eating grin, if you would.

azul shook himself of the thought and paced in front of the ‘operation: make [name] fall in love with the power of fate!’ or MNFLPF for short.

“man i dunno why’re yer so outta shape ov’r this.” azul’s pacing stops at the lilt in floyd’s voice.

“because” azul swiftly runs both of his pointer fingers and thumbs across the metal pointer. azul’s oversized jacket ruffling as he steps towards the lounging eels. dressed to the nines in their monstro lounge uniforms, azul had called them in for a ‘strategy meeting for next month.’ yet here they were, staring you and 20 red, dizzying strings in the face. wrapped around thumb tacks like kelp to a boat’s motor, the connected to different photos, written paragraphs, a star chart? no. two star charts.

your’s and- presumably- azul’s

“there is no such thing as fate, only preparation, hard work, grit” azul squeezes his baton inspirationally.

“but” his face softens, his shoulders relaxing into an almost dissapointed shrug. “[name] thinks differently- which is why” he takes a step back, smacking the chart with it’s own lines and symbols on it. “-we’re going to push her in the right direction?” jade finished with a poised sip of tea, legs crossed elegantly compared to his brother’s brutish man spreading.

“precisely” azul hums.

“why not just ask ‘er out?” floyd asks, drilling for gold in his ear, inspecting it, it appears he got nothing. he meet’s his ‘boss’’ gaze in a challenge.

“it’ll beat whatever” he ways his pinkie dismissingly “this is”

“none sense floyd. if azul think’s he needs help from the stats then let him consult his lucky one. who are we to judge, hm?” jade sips his tea, hooded eyes drinking in the offended octopi’s expression.

“you- no! i am merely convincing [name] that i am the right one via playing along with their horoscope.” he points to a ‘O’ with horns, bright red marker under it.

“according to” he rolls his eyes at the twin’s snickering “the stars- yes yes, it says that for the next month a ‘romantic oppurunity will make itself known, so stay villgient’ verbatium from the app they use- privy to jade and his, resources”

jade’s free gloved hand bows for him, floyd ‘whooping’ and celebrating his twin. a ‘go jade!’ spurring the twin to stand up and full bow. floyd only started clapping aggressively not because he cared, but because of the blooming blue blush that was making it was on azul’s cheeks.

“enough!” his hand slashes for attention and respect! his foot stomping in anger and a juvenile show of emotions. but the twins shaking bodies quickly deflates the bubble of control. a defeated sigh and a calming brush through his silver locks, his pinkie catching his long bang, he looks back to the board.

he circled the board once to attempt diffusing his embarrassment. “so for the entire month i will put myself and the prefect in situations where attraction can- and will, spark. that may lead to further progressions in our relationship-“

“just ask ‘em out!” the twins had sat down in their respected spots on the couch like nothing happened. floyd, not one to keep his thoughts to himself sounds from the peanut gallery.

azul ignores him, turning to the board with an eyes roll.

“now!” he swats the board again “the plan.”

“so the plan’s bullshit”

by the end of the month azul and the twins had navigated rose mazes in heartslabyul and scaled sand dunes in scarbia and had nothing to show for it.

except for an embarrassing amount of black mail material the twins had gathered up. that was something that made this whole crapshot worth it.

by some higher power (jade thinks the universe should tip them for keeping you safe from azul’s tentacular hold) you had alluded and or missed every attempt azul had planned to ensnare your heart by convenience.

your umbrella was magically missing? why, a kind soul like azul has one to spare! better yet, why not share it?

except he didn’t account for you hoisting your jacket over your head, grim’s fat stomach tussling you hair as you both held onto the makeshift covering and ran for it.

tsk. fine. one of many plans he had in mind.

your lunch money was pick picketed by an expert thief [for hire]? how troubling indeed dear prefect, how about you allow him to- and off you ran to your friends, chastising ace about him ‘owing you one from that one time that one time’

azul bites his lip in a vain attempt to control his emotions.

no matter, he has ample opportunity.

yet none came as time after time his plans would get foiled by you or own of your anemone friends.

it was the last day of the month on a full when azul decided, uncharacteristically of him, to go on a moonlit walk. usually, his daily routine guided him into his dorm at the end of the day, yet a flicker of melancholy and nostalgia of lonely moonlit night spurred this need for moonlight.

so there he was, on a bench head in his lap and hands tugging his hair as his mind races over the prolonged abuse he had suffered.

he’d never admit it, bur with each attempt his heart sunk lower, and deeper into the pits of this human stomach he’s borrowing. yet with grit in his teeth and determination in his eye he stoodfast and did his best. azul prided himself in the thought that he was better than everyone else.

over coming the tragedy of childhood loneliness is a feat many cannot brag about, but not him. he showed them, beat every single bully at their own game, rose to the tops in academia and had the oppurunity to continue his studies on land- something his classmates can only dream of.

he’s azul ashengrotto! a house warden in his sophmore year, en-route to be salutatorian points behind riddle rosehearts, he has a successful business at the age of 17 for crying out loud! he is better! smarter! skinnier than everyone else! so why-

“hey-“

azul jerks up with a gasp. eyes stinging behind his foggy glasses, novemeber air biting his nose.

fuck.

it was you.

“you okay?” cold air puffed from your lips as you tilted your head quizzically. he hated the way your eyes carful picked at him, he felt exposed in you gaze. so he did what he did best, and hid behind his practiced charm.

“naturally, i was just enjoying the crisp november evening…“ ‘a half lie,’ he thinks. he wasn’t enjoying any of it. yes, the cold weather soothed a pit in his stomach and calmed his frying nerves, but he couldn’t escape the mental torment raging inside his mind.

the constant flexing and un-flexing of his hands and toes, gritting of his teeth and sudden bursts of intense, anxious breathing.

he wasn’t enjoying any of it.

like a march lit against a match box in a pitch black room, you had managed to steal his attention away yet again.

you hum in agreement, looking around at the scenery. the black metal street lamps warmed the forever growing leaf piles that decorated the walkway in fall. different reds and browns contrasted with the glowing greens, the light wind rustling and messing with the fallen leaves.

“i had the weirdest dream”

“is that so?”

you sit down next to him, fiddling with that necklace you have on. running your thumb over its grooves and ridges. you had told him once that you got it at some shop for a few bucks. whatever ‘a few bucks’ meant, he assumed it must’ve been quite the penny with how you talk about it. how he’s never seen you without it once. the black yarn holding up the pendant could’ve been fused to your skin as far as he was aware.

“it was about…” you look at him, your eyes narrowing a millimeter in thought as you raked over his slightly more relaxed form. his body language betraying every nerve he thought he had hidden as he struggles to suavely sit back against the bench.

“you actually”

azul’s blue blood ran white as he felt his entire body freeze up.

“w-what?”

you gave him no time to finish as you scotted closer to him, bright eyes peering at him unnaturally.

“you sell yourself short mr-“ you raised your hands in quotation marks “20-step-plan”

a fire was lit in his as the november air turned his suit and jacket into a sauna suit. his cheeks were calming up as his mouth was gaping like a fish thrown on board.

you fix the croaked fedora on his head and lovingly close his mouth.

“i’d love to go on a date with you azul, text me the deets, ‘kay!” like a switched flip you scooted away, bounced on your heels up and continued on your merry way.

no need to tell azul about the day dream of two whispering eels in PE. especially not the one where you saw him trip and fall over his own shoe laces trying to catch up with you.

you decided (and the twins) decided he needed a little lucky star of his own.

fate, if you would.

boo i got lazy at the end

#grammar for octpus you will be the end of me #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #azul ashengrotto x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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dizzrespect · 3 days ago

Text

🎀 Carrying Stu Machers Child 🎀

warnings; mentions of birth, mentions of smut

this man just loved to breed you. And to be fair, you loved it too. So it wasn’t really a surprise that your period was lacking for over a month now.

When you bought the pregnancy tests you were nervous at first. You didn’t tell Stu, because you were a little anxious about what he‘ll say. You‘re still both in high school and it wasn’t really the goal for both of you to drop out as teenie parents.

When you took the test you were at his place. You’re always at his place since you found out that his parents just kind of abandoned him there.

You were just checking the result window when your boyfriend chimes into the bathroom. It’s a bad habit of his, he never minds if you’re currently pooping or just washing your hands in there. If he wants to be with you, he does.

He doesn’t even realize what’s going on at first, bragging about something Randy told him. When he finally sees the little white pen looking thing in your hands, he stops mid sentence.

"What do you have there, angel?"

When you silently show him the pregnancy test he snatches it from you, checking the result window with a frown.

"You‘re pregnant?", he whispers, looking at you with a baffled expression.

You just nod quietly, suddenly feeling a little ashamed.

The next moment you‘re scooped up into his arms. He spins you around like a little whirlwind and chuckles happily.

"I‘m going to be a dad!", he cheers, smile brighter than ever.

while you’re pregnant

Stu is still the goofy, lighthearted guy you fell in love with

but now he carries all your books and your school bag in school… well, he’s constantly carrying something for you

constantly talking to your belly like an idiot

he always makes sure that you‘ve eaten enough and that you’re hydrated

he even cooks for you

he‘s more protective than ever, always one arm around you or touching you in other little ways

pregnancy sex? yes. of course.

but there’s no position where you don’t face him anymore. he mostly fucks you in missionary, now.

deep and slow with intertwined fingers, pressing your hands into the sheets while he‘s constantly kissing some part of your pretty face or neck

"Is it safe for the baby?", because this idiot thinks his dick is big enough to poke his mini me inside the warmth of your womb

the birth

this idiot somehow managed to come with you into labour

he holds your hand and supports you

little forehead kisses

he eyes the midwifes, ready to fight them if necessary (it’s not necessary, he’s just overprotective)

he offers you water every now and then

when you struggle the first time a sly grin appears on his lips

"damn, angel, I did a great job, huh?"

he shut his mouth after you yelled at him and called him offending names like "stupid idiot"

he doesn’t mind, though. and he stays by your side nonetheless cuz he is, in fact, a stupid idiot sometimes and he appreciates that you still choose to stay with him, to have his child

when the midwives inform him that the little head peaks out he steps closer to have a look

did you thought he would faint? yes.

but he just stands there in awe, eyes sparkling as he watches how you press out the little being you both created

the midwives take the baby and wrap it up in a soft towel, handing it carefully to Stu, who smiles in awe at his little daughter

he steps to you and carefully hands you the little girl

"I want another one", he says which makes you glare at him, holding the little wonder in your arms

#stu macher x reader #scream fluff #scream #matthew lillard

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hiraethwa · 9 hours ago

Text

one summer day

18 hiraeth. where everything has changed.

<< 17 light. | >> 19 (coming soon)

pairing: ushijima wakatoshi x reader word count: 3.6k warnings: alcohol, forced interaction

"the love was there. it didn't change anything. it didn't save anyone. there were just too many forces against it. but it still matters that the love was there." (source)

the ocean calls to you, whispering of the bittersweet past as you and semi barreled towards your old apartment complex on the train shortly after arriving at haneda airport.

you close your eyes, centering yourself, trying your damned hardest to not be swayed by the ocean, this train line, the carriage itself, the familiar scenery flying past you, everything.

the ocean sings of a song long forgotten—a song of a flightless bird taking flight on man made wings. of the song you had desperately tried to forget, its score long since burned to ashes.

she calls to you to visit her lonely shores, to lay your eyes on the treasures she keeps in her depths, gleaming in the dark, waiting for their master to claim them again.

stop. you tell her, there is a reason you built your home atop a cliff, never laying a foot on her sandy beaches again. semi tugs at your sleeve as a female voice announces your stop.

the ocean has a mind of her own, and she is determined for you to sink your toes into her warm waters again. i have always been here.

now is not the time. you turn your attention away from her to focus on the male before you, your arm tightly laced through semi’s, as reality settles in.

ushijima wakatoshi stands before you, the expression on his hauntingly handsome face a familiar sight. one that you wish to never lay your eyes upon for the rest of your life after semi confirmed what you were told.

don’t ever mention him again, you had told semi after that conversation five years ago.

and now, the source of your heartache stands before you, a faint smile on his lips, as though nothing has changed in the years that you were gone. everything has changed.

you curse at her internally for distracting you.

it has been five years. five years since you left without a word. you thought you are long over him, that all he is now is someone from your past, but there he is, just as beautiful as you remembered. traitorous mind.

there he is, looking as fine as the day he cleaved your heart apart. how could he?

the ocean quiets.

something in your chest pangs in remembrance, like an old injury aching just before the storm rolls through, recognising the person who your heart used to call home. you dig your nails into your palms to resist clutching at your chest.

five years. all the pain and the healing, the breaking and the mending. it will not come undone at the mere sight of ushijima, you remind your heart.

five year is enough. more than.

it has to be.

but then he opens his mouth, a mere hello, the sweet curve of his lips that was seared into the fiber of your being, even if he was only yours for one night, and the precarious image of control you had shatters into a million pieces.

your anger bursts into life, hot flames shrouding you in its defensive embrace.

it is all you could do to mutter one back, chest heaving with strained breathing, turning to stare a hole into the side of semi’s head, opting to stand in awkward silence rather than speak any further.

perhaps you should have taken your chance on the streets, or at a cheap motel. you should never have agreed to this, or let semi convince you that it would be alright to stay with ushijima at your old apartment—the rented two bedroom apartment that he still lived in.

you had not known what to do with the information when semi sprung it on you, and so he got his way with this ridiculous closure project of his. foolish, this whole thing. it has been five years, what is there left to move on from?

semi takes charge moving your suitcase into your old bedroom, still untouched from the way you left it, not a speck of dust. you shove that piece of observation deep behind some forgotten memory, shushing the ocean that tries to protest.

you opt to walk behind them on the way to dinner, where tendo will be joining you, your high school group all conveniently in tokyo at the same time. the two of them chatted back and forth, so unlike your memories where semi or tendo used to carry the conversation when it comes to ushijima who usually has little to say.

had, you correct yourself. the man strolling in front of you is holding his own, no longer the boy you knew. your brain notes the broadness in his shoulders, the extra inches he grew, his well defined muscles straining against the turtleneck he has on.

you almost wish for him to be angry at you for leaving without a goodbye. because then it would mean that you were in the wrong. that you got it all wrong.

it is wishful thinking—dangerous territory. the ocean croons at you.

at least semi is kind enough to let you choose your seat in the crowded katsu restaurant—next to ushijima or tendo, which is an easy choice.

dinner passes uneventfully with tendo recounting his wild adventures in paris, especially the ones that involved you at a time when you lived life a little too recklessly.

you try not to stare at ushijima’s empty ring finger, or semi’s answer a few weeks earlier when you remembered to ask after his wife to get out of his stupid plan of staying with ushijima. don’t worry about it, he had said.

you didn’t know what to make of it then. you still don’t know what to make of it now.

when the classic ‘leave them alone so they can talk’ happens, you see it coming from a mile away.

semi leaves first to get the check, instantaneously followed by tendo excusing himself to the bathroom. you send a hard glare at semi as he gets up to leave, which he responds to with a look in ushijima’s direction—you said you are over him, right?

right. you deflate in your seat as your friends make their escape.

you worry your lip, eyes darting behind ushijima towards the counter, to the waiter walking by your table, giving them a nervous smile, to the textured ceiling and back to the counter where semi is—where did he go?

your feet tap on the ground at a high tempo, fast enough to keep your mind occupied and away from things you should not think about as you scan the restaurant, eyes coming to a stop at a booth with two very familiar figures and two other people chatting and laughing. tendo and semi—and kai.

traitors. did they plan this?

you whip your head back towards ushijima for a short second, before forcing your gaze to fall to the table.

“you haven’t spoken a word to me since you said hello—”

“don’t, ushijima. don’t pretend like everything is alright.” you clench your fist under the table, desperately trying to salvage the nonchalance you mustered.

“can i explain—”

“no.” you inhale sharply. this is all a very, very bad idea.

“please give me a chance to explain my side of—”

“that’s enough.” you say quietly, meeting his eyes for the first time. “you never gave us a chance.

“i only wanted to protect you.” he looks pained, as if you are twisting the dagger piercing his chest.

“it seems that you are the one i needed protecting from,” the words come out in your voice, so detached and void of emotion that you barely recognise it. his presence drags a sharp-tipped blade over the scars on your heart, picking at the fraying thin threads holding it together with every word.

“i’m sorry.” he drops his eyes, falling silent.

you look away as well, tracking your friends who are coming back your way, knowing them well enough that they would drag you both to dessert.

you glance back at him, the organ in your chest bleeding red with liquid that it's supposed to pump away from itself through your body, standing up quickly and turning to leave, your chair shrieking against the tiles, and you lie.

”i don’t care.”

—-------------

the wind is cold against your face, harsh enough to whip your hair around and make you shiver, but not enough for you to feel numb—the way you feel inside now that you distanced yourself from the situation.

you had plundered his fridge, choosing a good bottle of sake, surprised to even find alcohol in the apartment since he does not drink, before planting yourself on the balcony, sitting with your knees to your chest on the freezing tiles.

home. the word had slipped out of you accidentally while referring to this apartment.

“i am going home,” you had responded in your haze of fury when ushijima asked where you were going, realizing your mistake twenty minutes too late, the understanding settling in as you stepped foot on the westbound train.

his eyes had snapped to yours with that look, as he shoved the keys into your hand and closed your fingers around them before backtracking to the restaurant, letting you go as you wished.

it was because you called this place home.

your mistake has played on loop in your mind since then, and sleep feels as far away as the safe havens of paris tonight.

tonight, you have two choices—stay up all night staring at the stupid glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling in your bedroom while being tortured by your memories or drink yourself into oblivion. the latter feels like a less painful choice.

you keep forgetting that it also makes your mind painfully clear and your inhibitions non-existent—that was how you got tendo to do all the dubious shit you got into together in paris.

it seems that ushijima also realizes that, knowing that this is his one chance to talk to you without you walking out on him. he is absolutely right.

he slides the balcony door closed behind him, standing next to you silently, waiting for something.

you speak first this time, annoyed and emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your system. “here to plead your case again?”

you raise your head to peer at his tall figure in the dim light, an eyebrow arched, your guard thrown to the winds rushing between you.

he shakes his head, “not if you don’t want to hear it.”

“and you’re not going to try to make me for the rest of the time that semi stuck me here for?”

“i didn’t know.”

“didn’t know?” you parrot after him, “didn’t know what?”

“i was under the impression that you wanted to stay here. i didn’t know that he was forcing you to do it. if i had known, i would not have agreed to it.”

semi tricked the both of you? the bastard.

“you would not have agreed to it?”

he nods, brows furrowed, hesitating on his next words. “i– i booked a room under your name at a hotel in shinjuku, a few blocks away from tokyo opera city, if you wish to stay there for the duration you are here instead.”

you falter, setting down the half empty bottle of sake and the cup in your hand, caught surprised by his words. “you didn’t have to.”

“i know.” silence falls over you both. “you should go, while it’s not too late. i can call a cab for you.”

you sigh through your nose, throwing your head back against the glass doors, looking up at the dark skies for some sign on what you should do next—if your change of heart to hear him out is a bad idea for your own wellbeing.

is this what semi wanted? for him to be so him and for you to soften at his gestures? no… tendo.

you drop your head onto your arms, squeezing your eyes shut, uncertain whether you should follow your instincts.

“sit down.” you mumble into your skin a few moments later.

ushijima looks at you in surprise, unsure if he heard wrong but then you say it again, head raised, your eyes meeting his. he obeys, careful not to intrude on your space.

you swallow, blood thrumming through your veins at the unexpected change in the course of your actions. “i can’t sleep anyway, so,” you shrug your shoulders, pouring sake into the small cup and lifting it to your lips, sipping.

you really hope you don’t regret your next words. “what did you want to tell me?”

you look away from the visible perk in the tilt of his eyes, the corner of his lips, the tightness coiled in his shoulders loosening just slightly.

he still reads like an open book to you—you wonder if you are the same.

if after all this time that passed, you still remember the language between you.

“my mother told you about the– the arrangement. how much do you know?”

you don't need to dig into your memories, you hear them frequently enough. “the week i left. that was also the week you went back to miyagi for your family gathering. she said it was for your engagement ceremony.” you lied to me.

hearing your own voice say that out loud, separated by distance and time from the rawness of your heartbreak, it sounds ridiculous. you left, not a single confirmation from ushijima on the supposed ceremony that you heard from his mother, who is practically a stranger to you.

you left based on nothing but words of a stranger.

what does that say about you? you blink at the empty cup in your numb fingers.

“yes, that is right, but i did not know that the yuino was happening then until i went back.” i did not lie to you about it being a family gathering.

you pour more sake into the cup.

“my mother hated how much volleyball reminded her of my father, so i made a promise to her at the end of junior high. in exchange for focusing on volleyball through high school and pursuing it professionally after, i agreed to having an arranged marriage. she wanted me to have a stable marriage unlike her own, and at the time, i haven’t met you yet. i didn’t care for love, and i thought she knew best.”

is that what all this is about? always too late. to grow old with the boy you fell in love with.

to save your sister.

“i wanted to call it off. i tried to, but she threatened me with you, with your future. and i could not gamble with that. i thought it was best for you that i keep my distance, protect you from her, but that night, on my birthday—” he chokes on the memory.

it brings up a well of emotions within you as well. you are no stranger to it—every touch, every kiss seared into your skin, every image of him burned into the back of your eyelids—the deep pools of warmth within his eyes, the softness of his cheeks beneath your thumb, the strength of his arms wrapped around you.

you had wanted to drown in him forever.

but that was five years ago, and everything has changed since then.

“i should not have done it. i gave in to my impulses and i ended up hurting us both far more because of it.” he stares at his tightly clasped hands in his lap, knuckles white with force, shaking almost imperceptibly.

“do you regret it?” a quiet question.

“no, i don’t. i am the worst, am i not? i keep taking from you, and i can’t find it in myself to regret it. i only regret that it was the only time we shared together without trying to hide our feelings. if that was always the end, i should have asked you out from the start, then we would have had at least a year together. more.” he looks over at you. “i regret not having more time with you.”

“you should have told me, i would have understood.”

“and you would have fought for me like you did in high school without any care for yourself. and you would have been stuck here, and hated your life. i could not bear it, if you gave up music for me.”

you keep quiet, knowing he is right, that he knew you better than yourself.

“i am an idiot for trusting my mother. i found out that week when i went home that she had messed with your future even though she promised me that she would leave you alone. you did get into the university of tokyo, but she used her connections to have admissions reject you.”

“to get me away from you.”

“yes. she broke our agreement, so i cancelled the ceremony, and everything else. the girl i was supposed to marry didn’t care either way, but my mother was still insistent on it, still dangling you and paris to keep me in line. i was so angry, at her, at my grandparents, mostly at myself for not fighting harder for us that i called her bluff. i wasn��t sure if her threats were empty, but i was so angry that i didn’t think it through.” he pauses, eyes scanning over you.

“and then tendo’s phone call came that you were leaving. you were leaving without any word, any goodbye to paris on a one way ticket and i panicked. i told my mother that if she touched you again, she can forget she ever had a son, and i got on the first shinkansen back to tokyo, but i was too late. you were gone.”

“were they real? her threats?”

“i don’t know, i didn’t care as long as nothing happened to you. semi never shared any details of your life in paris, what you were up to or when you are coming back, he would only tell me if you were doing fine. i accepted your decision, that you didn’t want anything to do with me, but then you were coming back, and when semi said that you wanted to stay here temporarily…” he shrugs, “how could i say no?”

you fall silent, blinking, eyes moving over the tokyo skyline aimlessly as you turn over his words in your mind, the churning depths in the ocean within you calm for the first time in years, the rough peaks of water smoothing over, crashing onto the sand like a soft lullaby.

this is what your friend hoped for when he forced you into the arrangement, for closure to the wounds that had scarred over on the outside, leaving the insides to fester and rot quietly.

you had been so stubborn.

the love was real. you hadn’t imagined that. a breath of relief shudders out of you, all the fight in your body leaving you with it, suddenly acutely aware of the chill that had settled in your bones.

the thing between you, it was real. the knowledge unravels a knot all tangled within your chest, every breath that comes after becoming lighter with it.

it was real, and yet it was not enough to change your fates. the universe had brought you together, but there were too many forces against it, you and him included.

there was too much lost in the years between you. too much, but… the ocean stills, wavers for a split second before resuming its gentle lapping at the shoreline. she agrees, albeit reluctantly.

the fingers wrapped around your arms are pale with force as though they could turn back time and undo everything that had gone wrong if you squeezed hard enough.

“if there’s anything more you want to know, anything…” he starts after a long pause, trailing off as he remembers the weight of the knowledge he just shared.

“i know. maybe another day.” there are many questions at the tip of your tongue, but it would be wise to hold off for another time when your mind is clearer, not tired and wishing for a warm bed after a fourteen hour flight. the sake in your system has long since cleared, sleep sweeping in with welcoming arms at the lightness in your shoulders.

“i am not asking for forgiveness or understanding,” he hesitates, unsure if his next words would push you even further away. as if his next words could push you even further away. “i only hope that when you look back at the time we shared, it is not with hate, but with fondness.”

“i know.” he also knows that there is too much between you for there to be any hope for something more. you wonder why your heart clenches at the mutual understanding when you know it is for the better—wonder whether he feels it too. “it’s getting late, i should go.”

“of course. let me call a cab for you.”

you wave him off. “i’ll be fine. how do you think i survived paris?”

“i was hoping you didn’t make a habit of getting drunk and trying to find your own way home, you used to hate alcohol.” the corners of his lips quirk, as if teasing you.

he still reads like an open book, but you don’t know what to expect from him anymore. you wonder if you could still recognize him from touch alone, identify him from the feel of his strength under your fingertips calloused from years of playing. probably not.

you used to.

then again, you are not sure if you still recognize the man in front of you. there is enough between you to remind you of the lost years—of the time and experiences that have changed and shaped you, unknown to the other.

you laugh softly, sadly, “we are no longer the same people we used to be.”

a/n: tags: @lemurzsquad @daisy-room @integers @brokenbraveakira @whosmarjj @nansfyy @illuzminate @httpshoyo @manyuyuu @hatsukeii @bakery-anon

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pentechnics · 3 days ago

Text

A Little Leap

Chapter 9 of Latch

Summary: The long-awaited night is here, and both you and Din struggle with casting your cautions aside. Will it hinder your time together?

Pairing: Firefighter!Din Djarin x f!Reader

Series Masterlist

Notes: Very long awaited, but hopefully worth it. And not even a power outage could stop me from getting it out today! Poured a lot of love into this one and I'm so excited to see what you all think of it! Sending you all so much love and well-wishes!!

Previous | Next

~~~~

A few days later, Din was stepping back into Lando’s shop and greeting him with a handshake. Lando led him to the back where a rack of black garment bags hung, plucking out two and handing them to him. “Here we are, all set for you.”

“Two?” Din pointed to the second bag. “I only bought one.”

“Luke had me make up another for you. He noticed you liked the brown one, too.”

Lando winked and pressed them into Din’s hands. Din glanced between him and the suits, unsure of what to say. How did Luke do that without him noticing?

“... Thank you. I appreciate it.”

Lando nodded and waved as Din made his way out of the boutique.

Din hung the garments in the back seat of the car and clambered inside with a huff. During the drive back he rehearsed what he’d say to Luke upon his return – why’d you do that? How’d you do that? What the hell, you didn’t have to do that.

Din sighed. That kid was too giving for his own good.

He tried to keep an air of authority as he stepped through the front door and dramatically held out his two garment bags. He threw a stern glare at a gleeful Luke, who was sitting on the couch, not affected by Din in the slightest.

“... I don’t pay you enough to be doing things like this.”

Luke just laughed. Din gulped down his annoyance, standing up straighter in an attempt to keep up his angry demeanor.

“Relax, it’s a gift! It’ll come in handy.”

“Luke,” Din warned.

“Mr. Djarin, I promise, that is the last sort of intervention I plan to do.” He lifted his palm into the air. “You have my word.”

Din gave him a solid nod and made his way to the bedroom.

“It better be.”

~~~~~

“Your nerves are understandable. Is there any specific thing you’re worried about?”

You shifted in your seat before returning Dr. Jinn’s gaze. Each little thing seemed to pile together: some rational, some very much not. And more came with each passing day. What if he stood you up? What if you said something stupid? What if you spill your drink all over him?

“I just… I’m not sure what to expect. I’m not a big date person, I haven’t been on very many good ones in the past.”

“Ah, so because you really like him, you’re extra worried about it not going well?”

A bullseye, as usual. But damn, did he have to say it so bluntly each time? You nodded.

“I don’t want to screw this up.”

“Let me ask you this,” he tapped his pen against his knee as he spoke. “Do you think you were the reason those other dates were bad?”

You thought about it. One person made offensive jokes. Another turned out to be cheating on someone with you. One stared at the waiter’s ass the whole time. You winced at the memories.

“I guess most of them were out of my control.”

He gave a slight grin.

“Then I think it’s safe to say you won’t screw anything up.”

“… But what if he does?”

He paused, taking in your expression before asking, “What do you think is the worst thing that could happen during this date?”

A bead of anxiety led to sadness, shame, and anger. It wouldn’t be the total end of the world, but it would hurt as if it was.

“... Him not showing up. Or changing his mind.”

“Okay. Solid concern. Now tell me this: when you think about him, what are the biggest traits that stand out to you?”

Flashes of his face and of conversations the two of you shared ran through your mind. Those kind eyes and warm smile took over your senses, sending a pleasant tingle down your spine.

“... He’s kind,” you began, “and smart.”

Grogu entered your mind’s eye.

“...And he seems really loyal to the people in his life.”

“Seems like a great guy.”

You smiled and nodded.

“So, you’ll just have to take a little leap. Trust that he’ll come through.”

You stared at your lap. He was right. But just how were you meant to do that?

“Is that something I can learn to do in two days?” you asked with a dry laugh.

Dr. Jinn shrugged.

“Personally, I don’t think it’s something anyone is ever done learning. But we all have to start somewhere.”

~~~~

Din straightened his collar in the mirror, letting out a huff that made the tip of his hair bounce up.

He took in the sight of the grey suit in the mirror, hoping to summon that same magical feeling he got wearing it for the first time in Lando’s boutique. He turned around to face Grogu’s crib.

“What do you think, kid?”

Grogu smiled up at him from his standing perch, patting the edge of the crib with his hand. Din chuckled and went over to lift him out and carry him into the living room.

“Luke will be here any minute. You better be good to him, okay?”

Grogu laid his head down onto Din’s shoulder in response, wrapping his arms around him as much as they’d allow.

Din stopped in his tracks. Little waves of warmth and love flowed through him; he held Grogu close and basked in it.

Something seemed odd – typically, Grogu would cling like this and whimper when he wanted support. Then Din would’ve doubled down and stay home for him.

But this seemed different. Grogu was silent, save for a few gentle, happy coos. It was as though Grogu was trying to tell him something else. To ease his worries. It had Din swallowing a sudden lump in his throat.

This was hard. Leaving him was always hard. But as Din ran his hands through Grogu’s little curls, the prickly, heavy anxiety began to slowly loosen its grip.

He gave Grogu a kiss on the cheek just as Luke knocked on the door.

Deep breath. It’s now or never.

“All right, buddy, wish me luck.”

Grogu giggled and tapped his hand against Din’s chin, making him chuckle.

During the drive, Din couldn’t help the way his muscles seized. Every alarm bell in his system was ringing – not the way they usually did when he was away from Grogu, but something insistent and foreign. Good signs or bad, he couldn’t tell.

The evening sent a chill through his half-open window. The sky poked through the high-rises, its colorful clarity a direct contrast to the electric storm brewing inside him.

His mind was jumping from place to place – anxious, guilty, excited – they all melded together and created a dizzying new emotion he wasn’t sure how to name. Din was no stranger to running into a situation he wasn’t familiar with, but something about this seemed so much more fragile. It had more variables than he was used to. Larger margin for error, and less room for it. He resisted the urge to hit his head against the steering wheel to get his brain to shut up.

When he parked in front of your building and stepped out onto the curb, he forced himself to take a breath. One feeling at a time, one worry at a time.

Grogu’s okay. Focus on her.

It’ll be good. She’ll be happy to see you.

You look fine. Stop thinking about your stomach.

The voice speaking to him was collected and confident next to his racing heart. He chanted the words over and over again in his head, breathing in time with them until he could muster up the nerve to pull out his phone. He glanced at the clock – per Luke’s instructions, he had arrived ten minutes early.

Won’t she feel rushed, though? He’d asked. What if she needs more time?

Trust me, Luke had said. You’re the one who’s going to need it.

Damn that boy. Why was he always right? Din allowed himself a few more minutes of nervous pacing and obsessive jacket-pulling before opening up his messages.

~~~~

You sat in front of your mirror, making your final preparations before Din was due to arrive. Dress was on, accessories were added, and now it was time to wait. Your phone sat on the bathroom counter, taunting you. He’d be texting you any second now.

You were putting essentials into your little wristlet purse. Your hands were shaking, each little item struggling to get into the opening.

A thousand pep talks and reminders to breathe from Harley couldn’t even scratch the surface of your brain without interference. It was like you were shut off from your fear sector, unable to soothe it even if you wanted to. You stared at their messages of encouragement blankly before shutting your eyes and heaving a deep sigh.

Even though he really didn’t seem like the type, you couldn’t shake your fears of Din running away. Deciding he didn’t want to do this, that he didn’t want to see you. It took everything you had to not cancel first and beat him to the punch. And yet every time you snuffed the temptation, part of you wondered if you’d regret it later.

‘You’ll just have to trust him a little.’

As if on cue, Dr. Jinn’s voice rang through your mind like a bell. A soothing chime that cut through all of the abrasive, self-destructive noise. It reminded you of what you were meant to be trying. The clog inside you was pushing to be cleared – you just needed to help it along.

You rose from your spot and wandered into the living room, phone now cradled in your hand. The evening was settling in and basking its iridescent glow upon the city, the buildings surrounding your apartment cloaked in its blues, purples, and pinks. You thought about Din, about the memories you’ve already made together. His smile, his laugh…

… His baby.

You clutched your phone in your fist as another wave of anxiety pulsed through you. What would you do if you messed this up? The mental image of Grogu’s smiling face had your heart singing – what if you never got to see him again?

But then again, when did this date become the make-it-or-break-it of this whole thing?

It’s not as though this would be the first time you and Din sat together and talked. You’d done that several times at Cal’s. You had no reason to believe this wouldn’t be just like that, right? Calming, fun, and easy. You let out a slow breath, shoulders drooping down with it.

Yeah, that’s all this is, you told yourself. Just another fun meet-up across the counter.

Your phone buzzed.

With a jolt, tension returned to your muscles as you looked at the screen. He was here.

It was time.

Shit.

You texted back with frantic fingers, running to grab the last of your things and put on your shoes before heading out the door – but not before taking one last glance out the window.

The calm of dusk, an everlasting being of promise and beauty. The dull quiet in your apartment, a guaranteed comfort when you returned, regardless of what happened.

Certainties you could hold onto in a world of unknowns.

You pushed yourself out the door.

~~~~

You focused on each breath as the elevator made its painfully slow descent. You patted your dress, your head, your purse, anything that could possibly fall out of place between now and the lobby.

Part of you began to wonder where he’d be taking you. Him taking the reins on those details was a welcomed surprise; you couldn’t help feeling pampered by the prospect of not having to make that decision.

A smile tugged on your cheeks as the elevator signaled your arrival to the lobby. You sucked in one more breath and squeezed your bag. Here goes nothing.

You walked out and made it a whole five steps before almost tripping over your feet.

He was a vision: standing outside beside his car, leaning against the passenger side. Hands in his pockets. Gaze turned to the side. His suit was perfectly tailored to him, outlining his broad shoulders and full hips. Those arms that could rip his uniform into shreds were less of a threat to the suit jacket, though still made their presence known. The stubble on his face was short but visible, and it gave his jawline even more of a sharp edge. He turned and gave a small grin at the sight of you.

You swallowed the lump that formed in your throat and regained your footing.

“Hi,” you greeted as you stepped out the door. “I hope I didn’t make you wait too long.”

“Not at all,” he said, hands slowly making their way out of his pockets. “You look… “

He trailed off for a moment, glancing down at your dress before meeting your eyes again.

“... Amazing.”

You swallowed again, the heat in your face making it harder to breathe.

“So do you.”

You couldn’t help stealing another glance at that marvelous suit, subconsciously biting your lips together in hopes of keeping your cool.

“Thank you.”

You returned his gaze upon hearing his voice, letting yourself get lost in them. Any semblance of nerves that had just been assaulting you were long gone, like you’d been in a crowded room, and he was the one to walk in and make every voice fall silent.

Who could blame them? He left you speechless, too.

After a moment he cleared his throat and opened the car door for you.

“Shall we, then?”

You smiled at the gesture and climbed in, your heart already aflutter. Who knew people still opened car doors for each other?

You watched him walk around and get into the driver’s seat, phone in hand.

“I’m a little embarrassed at having to use the GPS to get there,” he said with a chuckle.

“Don’t be!” You laughed. “Everyone needs the help sometimes.”

He glanced up at you before resuming his search, a small dust of color brimming on his ears.

Once the GPS began to speak, he pulled onto the road.

“I don’t recognize the name of the restaurant,” you commented, rubbing your thumb along the back of your opposite hand. “Have you ever been?”

“No, actually. I don’t go out very much.”

“Me, either,” you nodded.

“New for us both. That’ll be nice.”

He pulled up to a stoplight and turned away from the road to look at you.

“Yeah, that will be nice.” You said with a smile.

An unspoken feeling passed through you: uncharted, exciting, deep. By the way Din looked at you, you’d swear he was feeling the same thing. His eyes seemed to be speaking for him again – a language you were so desperate to learn. Yet at the same time, it felt as though the message was crystal clear.

The light turned green, but the spell didn’t break. Somehow, without even having to look at you, those eyes were still relaying their words. The comfortable silence between you was so loud with them that it was almost too much to bear.

Din ended up driving you to a separate sector of downtown from where Cal’s and the Mark were located. A spring of joy lit up inside you; this was an area you never got to explore.

When Din pulled into a parking spot, he rushed to undo his seat belt.

“Hang on.”

You halted your hands from reaching for the door handle and instead watched him jog over to open it again for you. A wide smile sprouted on your face. What a precious gentleman.

You glanced at the hand he held out for you before placing yours in it. Just as it had the last time, back in Cal’s, electricity shot through you. There was a slight jolt in his grip before he pulled you to your feet, giving your hand the slightest squeeze before letting it go.

You instantly missed his warmth.

He pointed the way after locking the car and the two of you walked side by side. You held tight to your bag, still unsure of what physical boundaries should be kept. You glanced at his hand, dangling along his side. It swayed with his movements.

How nice would it be if it just stayed wrapped around yours?

Upon approaching the restaurant, he opened that door for you as well, making you giggle.

“Will you be opening all my doors tonight?”

“... Is that okay?”

The concern that clouded his eyes made you wish you hadn’t said a word. You smiled and held out a hand towards him.

“Of course, yes! I’m just not used to it is all.”

You paused and looked at your feet, nerves threatening to keep the next words from escaping your mouth.

“It makes me feel really special.”

He let out a breath. You watched the tension dissipate from his shoulders and a calmness come over his expression.

“I’m glad.”

He turned from you and greeted the approaching waiter.

You took the moment look around. The restaurant was quaint and elegant, warm yellow lighting reflecting off the maroon walls. Wide open dining areas and a dancing area down a farther hallway. Shimmering chandeliers dangled from above and reflected constellations off themselves.

It was gorgeous.

When the waiter grabbed two menus, you began to prepare yourself. Your heart was pounding deep and loud – a boisterous show of its limits.

And the evening had only just begun.

~~~~

Light chatter surrounded you both as you sat at the intimate little table for two, waiting for your orders. The candle sitting between you made Din glow; specks of yellow danced across his face, making his eyes shimmer. He was looking out the window, his side profile made ever sharper by the contrasting shadows.

“It looks so other-worldly outside,” he said, “... does that sound weird?”

His voice snapped you out of your trance.

“No, not at all,” you shook your head.

You took a glance out the window, taking in the pale city lights as they twinkled against the dark backdrop of the encroaching night. As cars drove past, the headlights would briefly splatter the surrounding surfaces. It was like several little light shows just for the two of you.

“I see what you mean. It’s kind of magical.”

He turned to you and grinned. His eyes betrayed a hint of embarrassment.

The waiter came by and set your food before you both. Din cleared his throat and glanced about the room until they walked away.

The smell immediately graced your nose, making you breathe in a deep dose of it. Your stomach grumbled its approval just before you both began eating. You were grateful for the food – it gave you something to do when you couldn’t think of what to say.

Clinking silverware and padded footsteps of passing waiters filled the air. You glanced up at Din between bites – he would either be pecking at his food or glancing out the window, seemingly wringing his hands together.

Good to know he was also nervous, though it left you unsure of how to break the tension. You took another bite and thought back to the pep-talk you gave yourself.

Just another chat across the counter.

You took a sip of your water and set down your cutlery.

“How’s Grogu doing?”

His eyes darted to you, expression a little lost.

“Oh- he’s… good.”

“No more fevers, I hope.”

That got him to smile a bit.

“No, he’s okay. He’s actually been really active lately.”

“Yeah?” Tell me more.”

He did. And as he spoke, his demeanor shifted. The weight left his shoulders, the buzzing air calming. You could swear you were actually at Cal’s, and he was sitting at the counter. You couldn’t help smiling – at both his and Grogu’s cuteness.

Conversation flowed much more easily after that, the evening drifting along with it. He made you laugh, you made him blush, and everything in the world made sense.

Before either of you knew it, the waiter had left the check on the table and at least a solid two hours had passed. Din didn’t even entertain the notion when you lifted your little purse to help pay, giving you a good laugh and another flutter of the heart.

The two of you walked out into the night soon after, you nursing leftovers in your hand. The walk to the car was slow and peaceful, the breeze a relief on your beaming cheeks. When you reached the car, you stopped Din with a hand on his forearm before he could open the door.

“Hey-” you looked up at him. “Do you want to…”

You gulped. You didn’t want the night to end just yet. But what would happen if he said no? Just imagining the awkwardness made you want to run away. He glanced down at your hand before meeting your eyes again.

“... walk around a bit?” he finished for you.

You nodded with a smile, hoping the utter mental pain you were enduring wasn’t visible in your expression. He straightened up and took your to-go box out of your hands.

“That sounds nice. Let’s drop this off, then.”

The relief was so sweet yet drastic. You sighed with a small laugh and gave his forearm a little squeeze.

~~~~

The walk reminded you of that spontaneous arcade day the two of you shared, yet this was somehow even sweeter.

The night was rich with energy. Light spilled onto the sidewalks from the little shops that lined the streets, a slight breeze whisking around you, and a healthy flow of words still running between you. Din’s voice grew just a bit more animated than it had been at the start of the night, and you reveled in the soothing sound of it.

One shop caught your eye: a little ice cream parlor, painted in creamy pastels and boasting a host of flavors, with indoor decor that was reminiscent of a vintage diner. You couldn’t stop yourself from taking in the sugary vanilla scent. You turned to Din with a grin.

“Do you want some dessert?”

He stared at you with wide eyes and hesitated. A beat passed before he gulped and tore his gaze from you to look at the list of flavors outside the door.

“Sure—yeah, let’s do it.”

You insisted on paying once flavors had been selected, mirroring what he had done in the restaurant.

It took him all but five minutes to finish his. You weren’t even at your cone yet.

You looked between your hand holding your ice cream and his empty one crumpling a napkin across the little circular table. Gesturing between them, you gave him a puzzled look.

“How?”

He just shrugged with a chuckle. You shook your head and continued to dive into your cone.

“Oh, hey- you’ve got something right there…”

He gestured to the side of his lip. Fighting off the embarrassment, you tried to wipe it off with your hand.

“Did I get it?”

He shook his head. You tried again. Whatever it was continued to elude you, leading Din to reach for a new napkin.

“May I?”

You laughed at your own helplessness and scooched your chair closer to him.

He met you halfway and wiped at the edge of your mouth. Even through the layers between you, his fingers burned into your skin. You couldn’t help staring at the concentrated expression he held, your muscles freezing up under his touch. He drew closer and continued on his mission to clear off the ice cream, though the napkin just felt dry against your skin. His thumb darted out to caress your cheek, and you gasped at the touch.

He had to stop teasing you like that. You wouldn’t be able to help yourself otherwise.

His gaze slowly made its way up from your lips until it met yours, his eyes giving you that familiar sensation of being effortlessly dissected.

How do his eyes do that, you wondered.

“… How do you do that?”

You may not have meant to voice your thoughts, but no regret followed.

“Do what?”

“it’s just that- I don’t know, every time you look at me, it’s like you’re staring into my soul.”

He let out a soft laugh.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you quickly added, “I’ve just never experienced it before.”

He leaned back the slightest bit, his hand falling from your face.

“You do something similar, you know. It’s like there’s…”

He leaned in again and squinted a bit, peering even deeper. You jumped a bit in your seat, the sudden proximity sending a jolt through your veins.

“… I can’t quite explain it, but they’re pretty incredible.”

His voice was soft and quiet, as if speaking too loudly would break the moment.

You melted into his gaze, losing yourself chasing the shining stars that made up its inner galaxy. A deep warmth ran through you, and you couldn’t help smiling. He returned the expression, his eyes crinkling.

You could look at that face all night.

The rest of your ice cream sat abandoned in your hand, the slight sensation of it dripping onto your hand the only indication that anything else still existed.

“Oh-”

Din bounced back into action to clean you up, leaving you to careen back to Earth’s surface. The chatter of other customers, the faint music in the background, it all came rushing back too fast.

“Better get a jump on this if you don’t want to end up doused in ice cream soup,” he said with that beautiful grin.

It was hopeless. Hardly anything had happened, and yet… You were trapped in his orbit.

~~~~

Your throat was so sore by the time Din was driving you home, hours having passed by without you. You were certain you’d never talked to someone for so long before.

The fatigue was showing on his face as well, in the form of tired eyes and deeper sighs.

“I’m sorry to have kept you out so late,” you said.

“Oh, please, don’t be.” He stole a glance before returning his attention to the road. “I had a great time with you.”

Like a blanket straight from the dryer, you were wrapped in that sweet feeling again.

“Likewise.”

He smiled with his teeth for the briefest of moments.

Moments later he was pulling the car into park in front of your building and popping out to open your door one more time for the night.

You looked up to see him staring at the ground with his hand outstretched, that adorable red tint decorating his ears. You smiled and let him pull you out of the car, but this time he didn’t step away.

Your heartbeat quickened without your permission, sending a flurry of butterflies through your gut. You were craning your neck the slightest bit, eager to take in his features from this close up, despite the growing clamminess in your hands.

His gaze was slower to meet yours; he took his time examining you, starting from your shoes and working his way up. When he did catch your eyes, something in his stance deflated. And his smile once again took all the remaining breath from your lungs.

“I meant it,” he all but whispered, “I… had a really great time tonight.”

“Me too,” your voice came out quieter than intended, matching his. “Maybe we could do it again sometime?”

“I’d like that.”

He gave your hand a squeeze.

“I’d like that a lot.”

Your smile was hurting your cheeks, but the pain was barely registering. The crisp night air whisked around you both, as if sweeping away everything else until all you could focus on was Din.

He took up your entire field of vision, your every sensation, each breath you tried to take.

You couldn’t stand it anymore.

You placed your free hand on his shoulder, giving yourself enough leverage to pull him towards you and plant a kiss on his cheek.

Your entire body was heating up, your lips tingling. His skin was so soft, the slight scratch of his stubble a pleasant sensation.

His eyes betrayed surprise, blinking a few times before regaining their focus. He gulped and looked back down to the ground between you both, the red tint stretching to his cheeks.

God, he was so cute.

A big gust of wind broke the moment, making you shiver. His face immediately shifted to concern.

“Oh, are you cold?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Just a bit. I guess that’s my cue.”

You gave his hand one last squeeze before letting go and retrieving your leftovers from the car.

He closed the car door when you stepped away, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

“Good night, Din. Thank you for everything.”

He smiled at you, giving a small nod in your direction.

“Good night.”

One last look at him before you forced your feet to start moving. Every instinct in you tried to pull you back to him, but you had to press on.

The heated building began to thaw you out, but it was nothing compared to him. You didn’t stop until you got to the elevator, the curb thankfully out of view to keep you from running right back outside.

Every moment, every feeling, it all came crashing down on you all at once. Right there inside the moving metal box. You had to lean against the wall to catch yourself.

What a night.

~~~~

Your apartment was dark. The city lights still penetrated through your windows, illuminating select areas and helping your brain adjust, but you were still left fumbling for the light switch.

Your movements were almost robotic as you toed off your shoes, put away your food, closed the curtains, and made your way to the bedroom. You plopped your purse down and stared at yourself in the mirror.

Okay, I’m wearing the dress, so none of that was a dream.

You changed into your nightwear and took a seat on the couch, blankly turning on the TV and letting the white noise fill the space.

Your mind was so overwhelmed with how much the two of you had spoken, yet it still didn’t feel like enough. By the end of it all, you still wished it didn’t have to end.

You brushed your fingers over your cheek, where the invisible indent of his hand still remained. Warm, strong, and soft – that’s how his hands felt. Just the memory of them had your skin tingling again.

Magic. It was the only word that could describe the night. Something about it all was just pure magic.

You sighed. You’d never been more eager to see someone again. To feel that enchanting bliss again. It seemed so foolish, yet you couldn’t help yourself. You lifted up your phone – it’d definitely be too much to message him now, no matter how much you wanted to. Some self-control had to be practiced.

You elected instead to put on Golden Girls, your muscles relaxing as the familiar score began to play. You reached over to your side table and pick up your most recent read: Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand. Funnily enough, the story involved a new love for the titular character.

But for the first time in a while, the pages went on without you. You made it through the first few pages before the train derailed. The words were there, your eyes moved over them, but you weren’t encoding a single one. Your mind’s eye projected those eyes, that suit, the gorgeous smile, all over the page.

You shook your head. Maybe if this chapter involved Jasmina rather than the discomforting country club group, it would apply more to your mind’s incessant stick to the topic of romance.

“Sorry, Major,” you whispered as you closed the book. “Even you can’t compete right now.”

The girls were chatting over cheesecake when you picked up your phone again, scrolling aimlessly until you decided the only way to calm yourself down enough to go to bed was to expel everything.

The phone only rang twice before Harley picked up, skipping every pleasantry and going right into the, “Tell me everything.”

~~~~

Luke turned to the next page in his book, readjusting in the chair as he did so.

The apartment had been quiet, blanketed in the yellow glow of Din’s floor lamp since Grogu fell asleep. The perfect backdrop to get engrossed in a book and forget where he was.

The one thing to break his trance was the gentle rustling of the front door. Luke looked up and checked his phone – the 11:55pm timestamp had him slightly recoiling in disbelief.

When Din walked through the door, Luke closed his book and gave him a smile.

“Welcome back,” he said, “How’d it go?”

Din shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it on the sofa. He plopped down, leaned on his knees, and ran his hands through his hair with a sigh. When he sat back up, Luke noted the flush in his cheeks, the shine in his eyes, and couldn’t help grinning.

“That good, huh?”

Din shook his head.

“I don’t even know what happened. She’s… just incredible.”

Luke had never seen Din like this. Sure, he was quiet, but this was fully tongue-tied. A blissful tone was evident in his worn-out voice.

As quick as it came, though, it vanished. Din’s expression narrowed.

“Wait, how long has he been asleep?”

Ah. Dad mode was back.

“A few hours,” Luke said with a shrug. “It is almost midnight.”

Din straightened up.

“What? I was gone that long?”

“It’s okay, Mr. Djarin, he’s completely fine.”

“I’ve never missed bedtime on a day off. Are you sure he was okay?”

“Yes,” Luke said, moving to sit next to Din on the sofa. “I promise, he’s great. Besides, he goes to bed at eight. Even if you were home earlier, there’s no way you’d have been back that early.”

Din leaned back until he collided with the backrest, slightly shaking his head.

Luke internally sighed. Just when he thought the guilt would stay away…

He turned in his seat to face Din and got his attention with a hand to his shoulder.

“Mr. Djarin, listen to me. I want you to think about how you felt being out tonight. How you felt being on that date.”

Din eyed Luke before turning his gaze to his lap.

“You don’t have to say anything – just think.”

Din closed his eyes, his chest slowly inflating and deflating with deep breaths.

In the time he’d known Din, Luke had never seen him do anything for himself. Everything he ever did, he did for Grogu. It was hard to see him like this, almost punishing himself for the smallest deviation.

The best way out of this for now, Luke reasoned, was to reframe it in a way that included Grogu.

“Now, don’t you think Grogu would enjoy hearing about those feelings? Won’t it be nice to tell him all about this tomorrow?”

Din’s gaze rose back up to him.

“You’ll see for yourself, he’s going to love that you went out and did so much. He is going to love seeing you happy.”

Din gave a small nod, though there was still a hint of doubt in his expression. He sat up and let out a puff of air.

“Can I ask you something, Luke?”

Luke straightened up with a nod.

“Why are you helping me so much?”

“What do you mean?” Luke asked.

“I mean, I don’t understand why you’ve gone out of your way to do so much for me. Especially with all this date stuff.”

What an innocent soul he was. Luke smiled and shrugged.

“Because I want to.”

“But… why?”

Din looked genuinely puzzled. On the one hand, it was endearing, but on the other, Luke couldn’t help wondering why it was so hard for him to accept that people would just want to help him.

“Believe it or not, Mr. Djarin,” he started, “spending this much time together has made us friends. Friends help each other. If I needed something, we both know you’d be there for me. It’s the same both ways.”

Din’s expression relaxed a bit. A small grin pulled at his lips.

“Well, friend, I’m sorry to have kept you here all night.”

The swell of warmth that came from hearing Din call him a friend was unexpected, but not unwelcome. Luke gave him a pat on the shoulder.

“No worries, pal. I’m really glad you had such a good night.”

Din gave him a wider smile.

“You were right about getting there early,” he chuckled, “I did need the extra time.”

Luke laughed.

He sat back and listened as Din relayed parts of the night, pride growing within him with every moment, every story, every little hint of bashfulness and glee on Din’s face.

A happy Din was quite the sight to behold.

****

Additional notes: Major Pettigrew's Last Stand by Helen Simonson is one of my favorite books ever. Full stop. It's a beautiful, skillfully told story about an old man finding new meanings in life. The characters are so flushed out and amazing and they just tug at your heart. I am very picky about writing style and I just gotta say, Helen's is one of the most talented writers I've read. Only something like this date could've derailed my mind from her gorgeous words!!

latch taglist: @the-scandalorian @tobealostwanderer @captain-jebi @prismaticpizza @sunipostsstuff @jaa1682-27 @onebrownoneblue @kesskirata @fangirlalexia @tortles @girlofchaos @spideysimpossiblegirl @just-a-sewer-goblin @kotemorons @hotchlover

perm taglist: @booksarekindaneat @bluemacaron @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @whataenginerd @christina-loves @librariantothejedi @literallydontlook @salome-c @dessinemoiunehistoire @dear-fifi @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @keldabe-kriff @kurlyfrasier @booksaremyyoga @elegantduckturtle @artsymaddie

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #latch

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