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fluff-lover · 4 days ago

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Take a Hint

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Summary: You were only supposed to help Din Djarin with one bounty. But after the mission, you stuck around — teasing, flirting, testing the waters. He never reacted the way you hoped, always hiding behind practical words and stoic silence.

Or five times you thought Din was dense and one time you realized you were wrong.

Tags: Fluff, 5+1 things, miscommunication, SFW, Din Djarin is oblivious, he's trying his best, one sided, or is it???, idiots in love, protective Din Djarin, Din Djarin being soft (in his own way). No descriptions of reader. No mentions of Y/N.

A/N: I know it's a lot shorter than my other Din fanfic, but I hope you'll enjoy this one as well. If you have any requests, suggestions, or thoughts, feel free to send me a message. Reblogs are appreciated. Please do not steal or cross-post it on another platform without asking. Thank you.

Word Count: 2.7k

masterlist

You stretched your arms above your head, letting out a sharp sigh as the bounty’s unconscious body thudded to the floor of the Razor Crest’s cargo hold.

“That’s one way to say job well done,” you muttered, brushing space dust from your jacket sleeve before slinking into the co-pilot’s chair.

Behind you, Din Djarin closed the ramp and began checking the carbonite chamber, ensuring the target was fully frozen and secure. He hadn’t spoken much since you reached the ship — not that he was ever particularly chatty — but you chalked that up to the Mando brand of "taciturn charm."

“Well, that was fun,” you said brightly, spinning halfway in the chair to face him. “You always do jobs this entertaining, or was this just to impress me?”

His helmet tilted slightly toward you. “It wasn’t supposed to be fun.”

“No? Shame. You looked pretty good out there.” You gave him a teasing grin and leaned back, resting your boots on the edge of the control panel.

He turned fully toward you now, helmet glinting in the light of hyperspace pre-jump. “You almost got shot.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t let that happen.” You pointed a finger at him, lazily. “Knight in shiny beskar and all that.”

“…I hired you for your recon work. That’s all.”

You shrugged. “Sure, Mando. I’m just saying, you throw a girl against a wall to shield her from a blaster bolt, she might start thinking you care.”

He walked past you to the cockpit, flicking switches like nothing had happened. “We leave in ten.”

You laughed under your breath and leaned back further, hands behind your head. “You’re cute when you pretend I don’t fluster you.”

No response. Just the cold silence of a man fully immersed in his pre-flight check.

Not even a head tilt this time.

You pursed your lips, then smirked.

Alright. That one might have been too subtle…for him.

But you weren’t going anywhere just yet.

You leaned against a stack of fuel canisters, watching Din as he crouched next to the hull of the Razor Crest, speaking low and serious with Peli Motto. Something about coolant lines or hyperdrive relays—you weren’t listening. Mostly because he’d taken off his gloves again, and there was something about watching his fingers flex against a piece of machinery that scrambled your thoughts like eggs on a Tatooine skillet.

Grogu was toddling near your feet, cooing up at you. You bent down and gave his ear a little scratch. “He’s lucky he’s got you, kid,” you said. “Shame you’re the only one in this partnership with any emotional intelligence.”

Grogu blinked at you slowly, then burbled in agreement. Or maybe hunger.

“Mando!” you called out, hopping off the crates and sauntering toward the ship. “Since we’re stuck in Mos Eisley for a bit… how about I buy you a drink?”

He didn’t even look up from where he was tightening something under the ship’s belly.

“No.”

You arched an eyebrow. “You sure? Could be a bonding moment.”

“No.”

You sighed, pushing your tongue against your cheek to hide the smile. “Are you afraid I’ll drink you under the table? Or that you’ll have fun?”

“I don’t drink on the job.”

“We’re not on a job,” you replied smoothly. “We’re in between. There’s a difference.”

He finally looked up at you, visor catching the Tatooine twin suns. “We don’t need to bond.”

You opened your mouth, but then shut it.

Instead, you gave a mock salute and walked off muttering, “Alright, Casanova, loud and clear.”

Later, you were helping Peli hook up a new motivator coil when she snorted and said, “You’re wasting your time, sweetheart.”

You turned your head. “Excuse me?”

“With him,” she nodded toward Din, who was now sitting on the ramp with Grogu in his lap, feeding him a little packet of something green and mushy. “You’ve been laying it on thicker than Bantha butter, and he’s just… nothing.”

You groaned, flopping back onto the sand beside her. “Is he dense, or just emotionally stunted?”

“Both,” Peli replied cheerfully. “Don’t take it personally. I’ve seen rancors with better romantic instincts.”

You covered your face with your hands. “Hopeless.”

“Yep.”

You peeked through your fingers, catching sight of Grogu now waddling toward you with food smeared across his mouth.

“Well,” you murmured, sitting up and letting him crawl into your lap, “at least one of them likes me.”

Peli patted your shoulder, greasy handprint and all. “That’s a start.”

The alley was narrow, the kind of cramped, shadowed crevice that smelled like rust and desperation. You ducked in first, tugging Din’s arm behind you just as blaster fire cracked against the duracrete wall.

“I told you that guy looked too twitchy to be a clean drop,” you hissed.

“You waited until we were already inside to tell me that,” Din replied, voice flat but calm as ever. You could practically hear the slight raise of his brow under the helmet.

“Call it a hunch,” you muttered.

Another volley of shots whizzed past, and Din shoved you further into the shadows. He followed in right after, pinning you both against the wall as the enemy patrol ran past. There was barely a breath between you. His arm was braced next to your head, his chest pressed fully against yours, armor cold even through your clothes.

You tilted your head up slowly, voice low. “You know, if you wanted me pressed up against you, Mando, you could’ve just asked.”

His helmet was angled so close you could see your own smirk reflected in the beskar.

“Stay quiet,” he said.

“That’s all you’re gonna say? Really?” You leaned in just a little, voice all honey and trouble. “No comment on the close quarters? The dim lighting? The way your knee is pressed against my—?”

“I said quiet.”

You let out a long, exaggerated sigh, head thudding back against the wall. “I’m just saying, most people would at least acknowledge the tension here.”

Din shifted his weight slightly, and you thought maybe—maybe—that you’d finally gotten through.

Instead, he pulled back just enough to glance outside the alley. “They’re gone. Let’s move.”

And then, just like that, the warmth of his body was gone, his cape brushing your arm as he slipped back into the light.

You stood there for a second longer, staring after him.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, jogging to catch up. “I was practically breathing pick-up lines in your face, and you gave me nothing. Not even a grunt.”

It had been a long day. The kind that sank into your bones and made even the air feel heavy.

The bounty had fought harder than expected, and Din had taken the brunt of it — bruised ribs, a split lip under the helmet, and a noticeable limp that he stubbornly refused to acknowledge.

Now, inside the dim hull of the Razor Crest, the silence between the two of you felt comfortable. Grogu was already asleep in his hammock, snoring softly like some tiny, ancient gremlin.

Din was sitting on the edge of the cot, working one-handed to undo a section of his chest plate. You noticed the stiffness in his shoulders, the way he winced every time he shifted his weight.

“Here,” you said gently, crossing the space to kneel in front of him. “Let me help.”

He started to protest, of course. “I’ve got it.”

You gave him a look, one you knew he could feel even if he couldn’t see your face. “I didn’t ask if you could. I said let me.”

He hesitated… and then let his hands drop.

Your fingers moved carefully, familiar now with the clasps and locks of his beskar. You worked slowly, undoing the armor piece by piece — chest plate, gauntlets, pauldrons — setting each one down beside you with reverence, like they mattered. Like he mattered.

His undershirt was dark with sweat and streaked with grime. You resisted the urge to reach for a cloth and clean him up. Instead, your hands hovered near the edge of his vambrace.

“You always take care of everyone else,” you said softly. “Let someone take care of you, just this once.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Then: “You don’t have to.”

“I know.” You smiled faintly, not looking up. “Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

You unlatched the vambrace slowly. His forearm tensed beneath your fingers, the bare skin warm.

He didn’t say anything to that. But he didn’t stop you, either.

When you finally looked up, you found his visor fixed squarely on you. The silence stretched between you like a held breath.

If he felt anything—warmth, tension, the way your fingers lingered against the edge of his wrist—he didn’t say.

Just a small nod.

And then: “Thank you.”

You nodded back, lips curled in the barest smile. “Anytime.”

You stood and walked past Grogu’s hammock, brushing a hand over his ears as you went.

From behind you, you could feel the weight of Din’s stare following you the whole way.

The Razor Crest creaked under the weight of frost, a low groan echoing through the hull as wind battered the exterior.

You were both grounded — a storm too thick to fly through and a bounty who was likely just as frozen as the damn planet. The heating system, true to its usual charm, had sputtered out three hours ago.

You were curled into yourself on the floor of the ship, back against the wall, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. Your jacket was decent, but nothing short of a portable sun was going to fight the kind of chill creeping into your bones.

Grogu was warm in his little insulated pod, snuggled deep in his blanket nest, occasionally letting out a snore.

Across the room, Din sat on a crate, sharpening one of his vibroblades like it was just any other night. No sign of discomfort. No sign he was feeling the same way your teeth were chattering.

You didn’t say anything. You weren’t sure if it was pride or exhaustion, but the silence stretched.

Until finally, without looking up, he spoke.

“You’re cold.”

“No kidding,” you muttered, breath puffing visibly in front of your face. “What gave it away? The blue lips or the full-body shiver?”

He didn’t rise to the sarcasm. Instead, he reached into the compartment behind him and pulled out a heavy, worn blanket.

“Come here,” he said, scooting to the edge of the crate and patting the space beside him.

You blinked at him. “You’re inviting me to share body heat?”

“Purely practical.”

You snorted as you stood, dragging yourself over. “Right. Not because you enjoy my company or anything ridiculous like that.”

He didn’t answer, just opened the blanket as you sat down beside him.

It was warmer than you expected. His armor had retained some heat, and beneath it, his body was a furnace. The blanket went around both of you, his arm loosely draped behind your shoulders to keep it up.

The silence settled again.

Then, a little softer: “Better?”

You tilted your head toward him. “If I said no, would you let me shove my hands under your shirt?”

He didn’t so much as flinch. “No.”

You laughed, but it was quiet. Tired. The kind of laugh that cracked into something tender. You leaned your head against his shoulder, your voice dropping low.

“...Thanks, Din.”

He didn’t say anything. But you felt it — the shift. A subtle lean into you. The way his fingers adjusted the blanket more tightly around you both.

And then Grogu stirred in his pod, peeking out, blinking at the sight of you nestled together. He blinked once. Twice. And let out a soft, amused coo.

You met his gaze with a smirk.

You stopped calling him Din.

Not on purpose. It just… slipped away.

It had started subtly: the teasing softened, the smiles dimmed. You kept your hands to yourself more, kept your jokes to Grogu instead. You still worked with Din, still followed him into the fire and out again, but the space between you felt wider than it ever had.

And maybe it was for the best.

Maybe you'd crossed a line, misread something. Maybe your flirting had made him uncomfortable, and he was too kind—or too stoic—to say it outright.

You hadn’t realized how much it hurt to pull away until you were halfway across a frozen plain, following behind him in silence, and he didn’t say a word about the wind biting at your skin.

He always offered the blanket before. Always stood just a little closer.

Now?

Nothing.

You tried to tell yourself it was fine. You were fine. You weren’t here to fall in love with a man who never showed his face. You were here because you wanted to be.

You didn’t expect him to care.

Then one night, as the ship drifted through hyperspace and Grogu was snoring softly in his hammock, Din stood in the middle of the hull, hands loose at his sides. Watching you.

“Why are you avoiding me?” he asked.

You blinked from where you sat on your bunk, caught mid-polishing your blaster. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

You looked down. “I just figured maybe I was… pushing too much. Saying things I shouldn’t have. Being… flirty.” The word stung coming out of your mouth. “Didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

There was a long pause. You expected silence. Maybe a brush-off. But instead:

“You weren’t.”

You glanced up. He stepped closer, the quiet clink of his armor unusually loud in the quiet. “I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?”

He hesitated, then said carefully, “I was flirting back.”

You blinked. “You what?”

He tilted his head. “You remember the first job? When we caught that bounty together, and I told you to leave right after?”

You nodded slowly.

“I made sure you got a full share. Paid for your passage off-world. Protected you during the shootout. I don’t do that for strangers.”

You swallowed. “That’s not—”

“And on Tatooine,” he cut in, voice quiet but firm. “You asked me to bond over a drink. I told you we didn’t need to bond.”

You furrowed your brow. “Exactly. You turned me down.”

“No,” he said. “I said, ‘We don’t need to bond.’ What I meant was—we already do. I didn’t think I needed more than what we had.”

Your mouth opened, then closed.

“In the alley,” he continued, stepping even closer, “when I had you pinned against the wall… You think I didn’t want that? That I wasn’t aware of how close we were?”

You felt your pulse jump.

“I wanted it,” he said simply. “I just couldn’t say it then. Couldn’t risk you thinking it was anything less than mutual.”

You sat up straighter, the air tight in your lungs.

He took another step, now close enough that you could feel the shift of his weight. “When you helped me take off my armor… I don’t let anyone do that. No one touches it. No one touches me.”

“Din—”

“And the blanket? On the ice planet?” His voice gentled. “That wasn’t practical. That was me finding the only excuse I had to hold you. To make sure you were okay.”

Your heart thundered in your chest.

“I thought I was being clear,” he said, finally. “But I guess I’m not great at… this.”

You blinked rapidly, trying to catch up. “You… you’ve been flirting this whole time?”

“As much as I know how to.”

There was a beat of silence.

And then, softly—warmly—he added, “So. You gonna keep pulling away? Or are we finally gonna admit we’ve been on the same page since the beginning?”

You stood, moving toward him until you were close enough to touch his chestplate.

“You could’ve said something.”

“I just did.”

You smiled, helpless and stunned. “Guess we’re both kind of hopeless.”

His hand brushed your arm, hesitant but deliberate. “Maybe. But not anymore.”

And just like that, all the quiet tension between you—weeks of half-meant jokes and unspoken affection—finally settled into something real. Something shared.

Not lost in translation anymore.

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fluff-lover · 4 days ago

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oh baby

din djarin x babysitter!fem!reader

summary: when you were recommended as a babysitter by peli, you had no idea that your old military skills would come in handy

a/n: just found out kylo ren has the side vents on his lightsaber bc he didn't bleed his kyber crystal correctly what a loser

tags: canon violence, fluff, comfort, yearning, mutual pining, tension over helping a wound, keldabe kiss, sleeping together, cuddling

ao3 version

grogu had been in your care while the mandalorian went on his missions for a few months now.

he was very cute, very food-driven, and was actually pretty quiet for a child his cognitive age, at least compared to a human one. thankfully, very easy to please as well.

you smiled fondly at the little green alien and handed him another blue cookie as part of his dessert for the night. din hadn’t returned yet, but you weren’t too worried as he said this particular mission could take all day.

then your comm sprang to life.

“i’m coming in hot, lower the bridge,” din said in a slightly hurried voice that wasn’t his usual vibrato, slightly gravely over the long-distance comm.

you scrambled up and grabbed your transponder, holding it up to your mouth to respond, “heard, i’ll make the preparations.”

turning to grogu, who looked up at you curiously from his seat next to the pilot chair, “stay there, don’t move.” he cooed in response and you nodded in affirmation, knowing to keep an eye out since he would probably wander down the razor crest anyway.

pressing the button that lowered the bridge, you grabbed the missle launcher that was stashed near the opening for scenarios just like this.

you walked down the bridge and took a knee with the heavy gun perched on your shoulder, looking through the scope in front of you. din was on a speeder with two stormtroopers on his flank, very closely gaining on him. as he saw you, he pressed forward even further, trying to create as much space between himself and the enemy as he could.

once the trackers had locked onto the troopers, you braced yourself for the kickback from the gun as you fired the missiles off. the two spiraled through the air and parted at the last minute, directly hitting the two speeders that were trailing din.

ah, this brought you back to your old military academy days. basically firing anything you could get your hands on, making you extremely versatile, but the missile launcher has always been a favorite of yours. shortly after graduating, you had been drafted into the empire and dodged it by hiding out in tattoine. in the next year, the death star was destroyed and the republic took over the galaxy again. even though you had only been drafted, you would still have to go through all the anti-imperialist training that you didn’t feel like doing, so you had just been a freelancer for a while, which is how you eventually ended up with mando thanks to a recommendation by peli.

it wasn’t exactly how you expected your life to go, but hey at least it wasn’t boring.

din swerved the speeder to a stop at the entrance of the razor crest just as you got up for your kneeling position, blowing the smoke off the top of the gun for good measure.

“nice shot,” din praised with a familiar hint of fondness in his voice that you could barely make out through his speaker.

“i always am,” you quipped with a smirk as you rested the missile launched across the back of your shoulders while you walked back up the bridge.

normally, he would’ve complained about your use of the missile launcher since a sniper would’ve worked far better, not to mention not having him near an explosion; but seeing you so happy to use it, and use it well, made him bite his tongue.

din abandoned the stolen speeder at the base of the ship without another thought, distracted by the sway of your hips as you sauntered up the incline. he couldn’t help it, he couldn’t keep his eye off of you which made him more grateful than ever for his shielded visor.

grogu was waiting to the two of you at the top of the ramp, cooing nonsensically with yet another cookie in his hand. you tutted in disapproval, setting the launcher back in its case before putting your hands on your hips while you looked down at the little foundling, “what have i said not about too much sugar before bed my little womprat?”

grogu looked up at you innocently, but babbled something in defense as you picked him up in your arms and walked back into the ship. little did you know, he used the force to get yet another cookie as you held him against your chest.

din couldn’t help the soft smile on his lips as he watched the two of you interact, a warm feeling tugging at his heartstrings. ever since you joined their little crew, things have felt substantially lighter. you were reliable and it was clear you truly cared about grogu as more than just a job. something about you was grounding to him and it gave him something to look forward to come back to, gave him another reason to keep going along with the little one.

there was also something in the quiet moments you had together: the two of you chatting in the cockpit during the long days of traveling, how you respected his religion and left the room whenever it was time to eat, when he would fall asleep in his captain’s chair and would find a blanket over his shoulders, your hands brushing against each other as you passed grogu between you two, the way you looked into his visor like you were looking straight into his soul. he didn’t need to take his helmet off to feel completely naked under your gaze.

he was pulled out of his thoughts as you told him you were putting grogu to bed, which he acknowledged with a silent nod. you took grogu down to the deck and tucked him into his little hammock, singing him a sweet lullaby as his big eyes shut for the day while din went to the cockpit.

din’s leg bounced impatiently as he waited for you to put the child to bed, you always came up for a debrief after he had been away. you were just as antsy to talk to him, but still took your time to properly lull grogu into a deep sleep. once his eyes were closed and he let out little snores, you glanced over din’s bed. whenever you woke up early, you’d find the two of them sleeping with grogu tucked under his chin. you couldn’t help but envy the little child, but quickly shook the thought out of your head. you tidied up his bed and tucked his blankets into their proper place before closing the door for the night.

climbing back up, you opened the door to the cockpit and took your place in the copilot chair. din’s leg stopped bouncing as soon as you opened the door, the bright lights of hyperspace reflected off of this polished helmet.

“so, what was it this time din?”

he grunted and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes as he went over the day in his mind.

“thought i was doing a regular supply run, but the boxes were filled with spice. turns out the client was a valuable asset to the empire they didn’t like losing.”

you knew he was being intentionally vague, all that really mattered at the end of the day was that he got the job done. he spared you as many of the details as possible, but you knew what he was truly capable of and it didn’t take an expert to read between the lines. he was good at what he did and he was efficient at it, point blank period. plus, you didn’t mind taking out a few bucket heads every now and then.

“any injuries?” you asked softly, looking him over as much as you could from your obstructed view.

he didn’t say anything and instead turned his chair to you, a blaster fire injury on the inside of his left bicep. you furrowed your brows, looking at the irritated wound and the rip in his sleeve. scooting forward until your knees were almost touching, you took his bicep in your hands and inspected the gash.

“doesn’t look too deep, superficial at best. i’ll get the banta spray, but you need to take your shirt off so i can clean it and mend your clothes.”

he nodded silently, trying to ignore how safe your touch made him feel. you quickly exited the room to give him ample time to remove everything he needed to.

you couldn’t help the flush of your cheeks at the thought of seeing him shirtless as you looked for the first aid kit. it wouldn’t be the first time and you prayed it wouldn’t be the last time either.

was it wrong to hope someone got hurt to have the rare chance of skin-to-skin contact with them?

maker, you sounded demented.

finally finding the spray and the disinfectant wipes, you made your way back to the door to the cockpit. you paused and waited a bit longer, knocking at the door to make sure he was ready.

“come in,” his still distorted voice responded. you took a deep breath to steady yourself and opened the door.

din sat at the captain’s chair with his legs slightly spread, his upper body bare to you with his helmet still covering his head. his chest was covered with wirey hair that was surprisingly neatly trimmed. his skin was littered with scars that all had their own stories that you hoped to hear about one day, not just the vague details. you walked over to the side of his injured arm and took a knee, taking one of the wipes out of its container.

“this may sting a bit, sorry in advance,” you said softly, looking up at him to make sure he was prepared. he nodded to you and slightly winced when the wipe made contact, but didn’t move otherwise. once the laceration was clean, you blew air on the wound to try and quell the sting you knew he was feeling, even if he didn’t show it.

his whole body was tense, but not from the string of the disinfectant. he wasn’t used to you being this close, or anyone for that matter, being this close to him. sure, he held grogu every one in a while, but that was different from this. it was different because it was you. and if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know what the kriff to do. it’s like when you touch him, his brain just went blank.

you could feel his eyes on you even if you couldn’t see them, observing every move you made. it was sweet really, how he watched you as if he was always waiting for the right time to say something, but never finding it.

once the gash was dry, you shook the bacta spray a few times for good measure. you sprayed the wound with a thick layer of bacta, covering the area with a cushiony bandage. when your hands left his skin he couldn’t help but miss the warmth of your touch, an ache for you to hold him as you did with the foundling.

each passing day the ache seemed to grow, only getting relief in your presence with the fire burning brighter in his chest with your absence.

din knew what this feeling was, even if he could barely admit it to himself. he was in love with you. everything about you. your witty banter, your beautiful smile, the way your eyes gleamed when the sun hit them just right, your kindness and perseverance in the face of adversity.

but he couldn’t subject you to that, even if his day dreams consisted of the three of you settled down on a bantha farm.

oblivious to his inter turmoil behind his helmet, you made sure that all sides of the bandage were stuck securely onto his skin with no stay air bubbles by pressing your fingers gently along the edges.

din caught your wrist before you pulled it away, confusion clear on your face as you looked into the shaded vision that hid his deep brown eyes. he guided your hand away from his arm and placed it over his heart. you looked at where your hand rested, suddenly aware that you could feel his heart racing against his chest similarly to your own.

that’s when it dawned on you.

a bashful smile tugged on your lips as your cheeks warmed. you took his other hand in yours and pressed his hand over your heart, climbing into the copilot chair to sit across from him without removing his hand from from skin. surely he could feel your heart practically leaping out of your chest as the simple touch of his bare skin.

din gathered up your hands in his and cupped them in their warmth. you could feel his eyes looking into yours as he softly squeezed your hands, tentatively leaning his head forward. your breath hitched as the cold metal of his helmet made contact with your warm forehead. shutting your eyes, you tilted your head at an angle to match his and settled into the closeness the two of you shared with only the hum of hyperspace in the background.

breathing in deeply, you pulled your head back from his with an amused smile as you saw the warmth from your skin had caused his visor to slightly fogged up. when the haze in his visor cleared, your hands brought his knuckles up to your mouth where you softly pressed your lips against the calloused bumps.

at that moment, din had never been more grateful for his helmet as his cheeks turned a bright red at the simple gesture that both of you knew deep down meant more than was said aloud.

you had done your fair share of research on mandalorians since joining his crew and you knew the significance of him pressing his forehead against yours, along with your return of affection.

"will you join me in my bed tonight cyare?" he asked in a soft voice that thankfully you could hear the tone of through his direct speaker.

you quietly nodded in response and let him lead you by his hand to his bunk, the two of you naturally climbing into the cramped space and fitting in together like two puzzle pieces.

once the lights were turned off and darkness swallowed up the room along with your vision, you heard the hiss of the pressure of his helmet release. you heard a clunk behind you as din set the headgear onto the shelf, followed by him tucking your head into the crook of his neck with his chin resting on top of your scalp. relaxing in his hold, you couldn't remember the last time you had ever fell asleep so quickly, a sense of safety in his arms. din wasn't far behind, soothingly running a hand up and down your back as he let himself drift off to the sound of your slowed breaths.

there were so many questions left unanswered between the two of you, but for now, you rested in the sanctity of each others presence.

a/n: me writing this⬇️

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fluff-lover · 4 days ago

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Logan asks you out - Part 2

You said yes.

Of course you did.

And now Logan’s standing outside your door, knuckles raised like he’s been frozen mid-thought, mid-motion, mid-what-the-hell-am-I-doing. He knocks once. Then again. Then shoves his hands in his pockets like that’ll somehow keep him from turning and leaving.

He nearly does.

But then you open the door.

You’re not dressed up. Not really. Just you, soft around the edges, looking at him like you see him. And he forgets how to be nervous.

“You’re early,” you say, smiling.

“You’re worth showing up early for,” he replies before he can stop himself. Then clears his throat, like he wants to swallow the words back down.

But you don’t tease him for it. You just tilt your head a little, and he thinks maybe he’d say it all again if it meant you’d look at him like that one more time.

The restaurant is quiet. Warm. He holds the door for you and doesn’t say anything when your shoulder brushes his on the way in, but his eyes follow you to the table like it’s instinct.

You don’t talk much at first. He’s not good at small talk. But you don’t push. You just sit with him. Let him breathe. Let him get used to the fact that you’re really here, across from him, choosing this.

And eventually, he starts to speak.

Little things. The way the food reminds him of a place he barely remembers. The story behind the scar near his collarbone. The way you always tug your sleeves over your hands when you’re trying not to fidget.

He’s watching. He always watches.

But tonight, he lets himself look.

You catch him once. He doesn’t look away.

“Something on my face?” you tease.

He shakes his head. “Nah. Just making sure this isn’t some dream I’ll wake up from.”

The food comes and neither of you finishes it. The conversation’s too good. And somewhere between the last sip of water and the check arriving, something in his chest starts to settle. Like he’s not bracing for you to leave anymore.

He walks you home.

Not because he thinks he should, but because he wants to. The sidewalk is cracked and uneven, and when you stumble just a little, he reaches out. You don’t need him to, but you let him anyway.

At your door, you turn to him, soft smile still playing on your lips.

“I had a good time,” you say.

He nods once. “Me too.”

There’s a pause. One of those thick ones that hum with the weight of something unsaid.

“I’m glad I asked,” he says, voice barely above a whisper.

You lean in, just close enough for your forehead to brush his. “Took you long enough.”

And he laughs. A real one. Low, warm, a little disbelieving.

When you kiss him, it’s not rushed. Not desperate. It’s quiet. Steady. Like him.

Like something that matters.

And when you pull away, he doesn’t move, just watches you step inside, lips parted like he might say something else.

But he doesn’t.

Because he doesn’t need to.

You already know.

He wants this. He wants you. And now—he’s got you.

part 1

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fluff-lover · 4 days ago

Text

Falling Hard

Summary: Both you and Din have been dancing around your obvious feelings for far too long, much to Grogu's frustration.

Warinings: None, just fluff, and Grogu being an adorable little menace, as usual. Use of Y/N.

Word Count: 1, 486

This is just a silly, fluffy little idea I got after watching Mandalorian season 1 Ep7 where Grogu takes control of the Razor Crest and sends the ship rocking, don't ask, I just had to do this... 🙈

"Dank Farrick," you curse in frustration. No matter how hard you pull, this effing panel just won't come lose on this hunk of junk Razor Crest. For almost twenty minutes you've been struggling, building a sweat, but you really don't want to have to ask for help. The last time Mando had to get close to you it was almost impossible to concentrate; his smell, his body heat, just his aura made you want want to melt into a puddle. To say you have a crush is an understatement!

And even though you're 99% sure Mando feels something for you too, you're just too shy to find out, the fear of that 1% forcing you to keep your feelings hidden. "Urrgh, come on!" It's no use and now your fingertips are raw from prying the stubborn panel. Groaning internally, both from frustration and from the torture you're about to put yourself through you call out, "Mando? Could you come down here and help me out?"

Din heard your voice carry from the hull while sitting with Grogu in the cockpit. The little guy sat surrounded by his many plushie toys, making some float and some fight. "Be there, now," he called back before turning to Grogu. "I'll be right back, Pal," Din tickled his sons' ear. "Be good and don't touch anything." "Patu," Grogu babbled in response, watching Din descend to the hull. The moment he was alone, Grogu's attention went straight to the control panel, a devilish idea forming in his mind....

*****

Entering the hull, Din finds you struggling with the same panel you'd been working on since take off. You're in a wide leg stance, butt jutting out and Din can't keep his eyes from following the curve of your body. "I could use an extra pair of hands with this... kriffin thing," you huff, pulling the panel to no avail. Din forces back his chuckle; maker you're adorable when you get all wound up. Din walks up behind you, placing a hand at your hip to move you out of the way. "Scoot over, Cyar'ika. I've got this," he crooned through his modulator.

Butterflies erupted in your tummy at the sensation of Mando's hand on your hip, all coherent thought abandoning you. That is until he rips the panel off in one pull. "Twenty minutes I've been fighting with that blasted thing and you get it off in two seconds! No fair!" you moan, but your voice carries more amusement than annoyance. Mando just shrugs while tilting his helmet to the side, mock arrogance oozing from him. "Just gotta have the strength for this stuff."

You cross your arms over your chest, a smirk spreading over your face. "Well, if you're the brawn that must make me the brains." Mando rests his hands on his hips, and you just now he's smiling under his helmet. "I don't know about that," he teases. You match his posture, about to give a witty comeback when suddenly the entire ship violently jolts to the side, throwing Mando's huge frame into you, sending the both of you into the wall.

Quick as lightening Mando's hand cups the back of your head to cushion the impact against the wall, his other hand grabbing at the wall for stability. In any other scenario, having Mando's whole body pressed up against yours would have short circuited your brain, but fear is the main response right now. "Hey, kid!" Mando shouts over his shoulder as he scrambles to regain his footing. Loose cargo crates scrape along the floor, bric a brac fall from shelves and storage nets and the alarms blaze as you and Mando slip and slide your way to the ladder. "What the hell is he doing?!" you yelped while holding onto the bounty hunters' arm.

With great difficulty you clamber up the ladder after Mando, practically tumbling into the cockpit. Gorgu is in the pilot seat, squealing and giggling as he thrashes the joystick erratically from side to side, all the while watching you both fall about the place. "Grogu! What did I... tell you about... not touching anything?!" Mando sputtered as he pushed his way to the pilot chair. Grogu pulled the joystick back, purposely sending him crashing into you.

You are both a tangle of limbs now as you roll about the floor. Just as sudden as the chaos started it settled down, with you now on top of Mando, your face less than an inch from his black visor. Time seems to have frozen as you find yourself transfixed by the close proximity to the man you've been fantasizing of for months and, maker, his hands are on your hips again, gripping like there's no tomorrow.

Din has forgotten how to breathe! How did this happen?! How did you end up sprawled out over him just like he'd seen so many times in his dreams? Good gods, you feel incredible, so soft, so delicate, your hands pressed against his breastplate steadying yourself. Thank the force you can't see his blazing cheeks right now. Oh, but he can see yours; in fact his helmet is picking up the unmistakable rise in body temperature as you look at him with blown pupils. The spell is suddenly broken by the sounds of lips smacking together, both of you snapping your heads to the pilot seat, which has spun to face you.

Grogu is now holding two of his plushies in front of him, bumping their faces together and making kissy noises, stopping now and then to point at you both, then resuming the same action. Omg, the little stinker! Has it been that obvious that even Grogu could see how you both felt? Guess you did a crap job at keeping your feelings hidden after all. You slowly climb off Mando, resting on your knees beside him as he sits up. His helmet turns from Grogu to you and right now you're not sure if it's a blessing or a curse that you can't see his face. What do you even say? Grogu points at you both again, making an almost annoyed sound as if to say 'for goodness sake just tell each other how you feel already!'

Now there's no avoiding it, that much is obvious. You look from Grogu to Mando who's now rubbing a hand along the back of his neck. "I uh... think he's trying to tell us something!" Mando whispered awkwardly. "And what's that?" you ask, hesitantly. Mando exhales, slowly. "I think you know, Cyare." "I think I know too but I need to hear you say it," you smile, uncertainty in your eyes. Din knows it's now or never, and he also knows how shy you can be so he has to make the first move, even if he's not used to expressing his feelings.

"I like you..." he blurts out, cringing inwardly as he confesses. Couldn't he do any better than that? He tries again, "I like you Y/N, more than a friend. You're passionate and smart and funny, and so beautiful. I really like you. I have for a long time now." Din's heart beats wildly as he lays it all on the table. He's faced many enemies and deadly situations countless times, but this moment has to be one of the most terrifying moments of his life. However his nerves soon relax as he sees the beaming smile breaking out across your face. "I like you too, Mando, so much!"

Mando cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb gently over your blushing skin. "Din..." he whispers. "What?" you ask, still smiling although somewhat confused. "That's my name, Din Djarin." "Din Djarin..." you breathed quietly, almost reverently. It's such a beautiful name and more importantly, he actually shared it with you! This is big. "I really like you too Din. I care for you, more than I have for any other man, and I want to be with you." Din's entire posture loosens as you say those words, the weight of uncertainty draining from him and leaving a warm, fuzzy feeling in it's place.

Still holding your cheek, he pulls you closer, lowering his head to gently rest his forehead against yours, both of you closing your eyes and basking in one another. "I want that more than anything," Din purrs. An excited squeal erupts from the chair, two little green hands clapping together. Chuckling, you pull away from Din and scoop Grogu into your arms, cradling him between the both of you.

"Guess we have this little matchmaker to thank," you grin, booping his nose. "I guess we do," Din laughed. "But the next time you have a point to make try doing it in a less dramatic manner, you little womp rat." Grogu gurgled up at Din, his little toothy grin melting your heart. You pressed your forehead against Din's once more. You're finally a clan of three.

@negrita2345 @imherefordeanandbones @missadangel @pickettniffler

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fluff-lover · 5 days ago

Text

The Experiment

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Summary: You test your new make-up on Din. But, in a unique way.

Warnings: Helmetless Din, Fluff, Reader wears make up, no other description of reader other than them being shorter than Din, a lil suggestive (only a little), lots of kisses.

AN: I tried to keep the lipstick colours as suitable for everyone as possible. Please let me know if there’s anything that I need to change about that. Apologies if there’s any mistakes. Feedback is always appreciated <3

It was one of those rare instances where you and your little family had travelled to a planet which was not only habitable but also beautiful. After being holed up in the dry habitat of Nevarro for days, you and the kid basically pouted your way through it and requested Din for a little vacation.

Din could never resist the two of you so he had immediately agreed and now here you were, in Naboo, roaming its beautiful streets full of trees, overlooking lush green hills and surrounded by swampy lakes. The planet had a soothing and temperate climate that was a huge relief from the dry climate of Nevarro.

Naboo was also famous for its architectural marvels and sprawling markets. Currently, your clan of three was strolling through the market. You were in awe at the various shops that were showcasing beautiful jewelry, precious silks and fabrics and make up.

You had heard about the Naboo being especially talented in terms of various art forms. Be it painting, music, fashion or performing- the Naboo were well versed in all of it. You had also read about how they were keen on makeup. Their royal families, the royal servants, and even the common folk would paint their faces in creative ways during any special occasion.

"Din?", you looked up at him and adjusted Grogu in the crook of your elbow. He was too busy looking at the delicious food stalls with stars in his eyes.

"Yes, Cyare?", he immediately gave you his full attention and looked at you through his visor, his hand splayed on your lower back.

"Can we go and take a look at some make-up? I have heard that Naboo is famous for it and they are known for their exceptional quality."

"Of course, here, I'll take the kid", he extended his arms and you passed Grogu to him. Grogu let out a whine and pointed at the stalls with his ears raised.

Din let out a sigh and you smile at Grogu.

"Someone is getting hangry", you cooed at the little boy and massaged his ears. He looked at you and let out another whine as if saying 'Yes'.

"I'll get some food for him, you go and check out the shop. And don't worry about the credits, okay?", Din said quietly and gently squeezed your arm.

You gave Din a fond smile. You were having a comfortable time with the finances right now as he had taken up some high profile jobs so he spoiled the two of you all the time. You squeezed his hand back and booped Grogu's nose before parting from them.

The shop you had entered was huge. They had all types of make-up, stacked on shelves and it was all colour-coordinated. It looked like you had entered a library of make-up.

You could see all kinds of face powders, eyeshadows, lip products, perfumes, and what not, lined up neatly. Their packaging was of high quality and attractive. So attractive, that you felt like you wanted to buy them just as a show piece- that tearing their packaging apart and using up the product would feel like disrespect.

By now, you were staring at all those shelves with a look of awe plastered on your face and you mouth hanging open. You have never seen such a huge store primarily dedicated to make-up. Of course you own some make-up and Nevarro had a small shop that had some of the essentials but this? This was like a huge warehouse of it.

You were so busy admiring that you didn't notice the store owner standing next to you.

"Fascinating, isn't it?"

You jumped in surprise and turned to your right. A short, old woman was standing next to you professionally. She was wearing a matching two piece that was purple in colour, her frail hands were covered in rings studded with different jewels, her hair was almost fully gray and it was in a neat updo with flowers stacked in it. But what was striking was her face- elegantly done makeup that made her look sophisticated yet youthful at the same time. She looked like the right person for you to ask for help.

"Oh! Hello. I'm sorry I was a little distracted", you politely greeted her.

She laughed gracefully. "Oh, please, child. Don't apologise. I had the same look as you when I saw it for the first time. I was only 5 then. My mother owned this store before passing it on to me."

You gave her a surprised look. "Your mother? Wow, this shop has been here for a long time."

She smiled before looking around the store fondly. "Yes, it has. Tell me, what are you looking for?"

You smiled sheepishly. "Actually, I'm not sure. Maybe some lip products? We don't get many of those back home."

The woman smiled brightly. "Oh, I do love a good lip product. Come on, I know exactly what to show you."

She took you to the lip products sections section and sat you down in front of a vanity mirror before asking one of her employees to bring 2 baskets full of lip products to try.

You lost track of time trying out the shades and different types of lip products. Your lips were dry by now, after trying out so many products at once but you were happy because you ended up buying four of them- a brick red lipstick, your nude, a pink (of your choice) and a maroon/mauve shade. You were to about pay for them when your comm went off. It was Din. He knew very well that if anything went wrong, you could handle on your own but as your partner, he was allowed to be a little overprotective. Plus, his clan's safety was his number one priority.

"Cyare? Are you alright? It's been a while since you left", his modulated voice overflowing with concern.

You closed your eyes and cursed yourself for not informing him beforehand.

"I'm so sorry, honey. I got carried away and tried too many products in one sitting..", you murmured sheepishly.

You heard him heave a sigh of relief before he let out a breathy chuckle. "Oh, that's alright. I hope you enjoyed yourself?"

"Din, it was amazing. I will tell you all about it when we get back", you almost squealed. The shop owner, whose name was Tina, you found out, chuckled in amusement.

You got off the call with Din and paid for the products.

"Your husband?", she asked with a teasing smile on her face.

You blushed. You and Din weren't officially married, but you two acted like it and Din had removed his helmet in front of you, which held much more weight and importance.

"Yes", you admitted shyly. Tina chuckled.

"Well, all of our products are definitely kiss proof!", she winked at you.

You let out a bashful laugh and took her leave, with the promise of returning to buy more products.

You finally made your way back to them.

Din was standing with Grogu sitting comfortably in his arms. Grogu was chewing on a cookie and his tunic was dusted with the crumbs. As soon as you approached them, both of them turned their heads to look at you at the same time. They were so cute, you thought.

"Bu!", Grogu cooed at you and made grabby hands for you to hold him. Din huffed out an amusing laugh before transferring Grogu to your arms, taking away your bag of goods to hold in his hands.

"Traitor, only using me to get food", Din grumbled.

Grogu looked at him and ate his cookie as if saying, 'And?'

You laughed. "Oh, I'm glad you two had fun."

Din huffed. "Yeah, yeah. How was it, mesh'la?"

Your eyes brightened and you rambled to him about the entire experience on your way to the ship. Din listened to you with rapt attention, happy to see you happy.

Once you were back at the room you were staying in, Din took off his helmet and settled in before taking away Grogu to wash him up. You sat by the little dresser and observed the lip products intently. You thought about how Tina said they were kiss proof and an idea popped up in your head. You giggled to yourself and patiently waited for Din to come back.

After he was done with cleaning the kid, he came back and put the kid on the bed with his toys and colouring books before standing behind you at the dresser.

You looked at his handsome face through the mirror. You never got tired of looking at his helmetless face.

"Hi", you greeted him fondly.

He flashed you his dimpled, sweet smile for the first time since you woke up and put his hands on your shoulders. You could stare at his smile all day long. It made your chest hurt with love for him.

"Hi, cyare."

"Din, would you let me test my products on you?", you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing.

He tilted his head like a puppy. He didn't know what the products were but he trusted you so, he nodded his head yes.

You asked him to sit down on the bed and wait.

You carefully applied the matte red lipstick and smoothened out the edges before closing the tube and turning to look at Din.

"How does it look?"

Din's eyes widened and he let out a tiny gasp.

"Whoa..", his soft baritone voice whispered. "Mesh'la. It suits you so much..”, he trailed off dreamily.

You let out a bashful giggle and approached him. He held your hands in his and brought you closer to stand in between his knees. He looked up at you with his pupils dilated, his eyes fixated on your lips. The deep red seemed to have brought out your eyes more, making them pop out and shine.

"Can I test it on you, now?"

That seemed to snap him out of his lovesick daze. How were you going to test it on him?

"Yeah, but how-"

You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. He immediately leaned into it but you broke the kiss before it went too far.

When you pulled back, you pressed your lips into a thin line as you saw that the colour had definitely transferred to Din’s lips. He was too distracted to notice that your lipstick had smudged.

The look on his face was downright hilarious. His eyebrows were drawn together so deeply that there was a dent in between his brows. He was frowning and he watched you go towards the dresser with his baby cow brown eyes.

You bit your tongue to stop yourself from laughing. He looked so offended it was adorable.

You removed the red lipstick and applied your nude. He was still staring at you, although he had managed to neutralise his expression now, before you came back and stood in between his legs.

You put your hands on his shoulders. He looked at you with that look in his eyes again.

“How does this one look, cyare?”, you asked him innocently.

He swallowed before flashing you a smile. He ran his eyes across your face and noticed how this shade brought out your natural features and made your lips look soft and full.

“It looks really good. Makes your features pop out naturally”, he responded gently before tugging a piece of hair behind your ear.

You gave him a loving smile.

“Okay now time to test this one.”

He perked up and closed his eyes in anticipation. You pursed your lips to stop the giggle from escaping because he was leaning forward with his lips slightly puckered. He placed his hands around your hips.

You dodged his lips and went over to kiss both of his cheeks. It was a sloppy kiss- that made a ‘smack’ sound. You pulled back and saw that there were two perfect kiss marks on his cheeks. And he was frowning again.

You couldn’t help it and let out a chuckle. He gave you a lopsided smile, trying to hide his disappointment.

You quickly moved to the dresser and removed the lipstick before applying the maroon/mauve shade. You sneaked a look at him through the mirror and noticed that he was clenching his hands and his eyes were darting across the room.

You were always in awe of his self-control. Not being able to kiss you must’ve taken everything in him to avoid pulling you closer and kissing you senseless. Especially since he had removed his helmet for the first time since morning today and you knew he was antsy to just love on you. Din Djarin was a respectful man. And if you didn’t want to take it further right now, then he would wait until you gave him the consent to.

He was trying to distract himself by playing with Grogu. You looked at them in the mirror and noticed the way Grogu let out little giggles and swatted at Din’s face to tell him about the kiss marks. You smiled to yourself and saw how Din was holding his hands and asked him to behave. Before he could figure it out, you decided to distract him.

“How’s this one, Din?”

Both of your boys looked up.

Grogu looked at you and pointed one of his little clawed hands at you and cooed loudly.

“Mweh!”, he smiled with his pointy teeth on show and looked at Din, as if telling you that Don’s face looked funny. “Bu!”. You just gave him a soft chuckle.

Din smiled at Grogu before turning his attention back to you. His cheeks were tinged with pink.

“Wow…mesh’la…you look so…”, he murmured and swallowed thickly before clearing his throat and pinned you with an intense stare.

“Hot.”

Your eyes widened and your cheeks felt warm. You shifted your gaze away from his.

“Shut up”, you choked out. Din rarely gives you such straight forward compliments but whenever he does, it makes you feel all warm inside.

He brought you closer and stared at your lips. You could feel his warm breath on your face.

“You don’t wanna test this one out, cyare?”, he teased.

You cleared your throat and smirked at him.“Ofcourse, I will.”

You decided to tease him some more and brushed his curls away from his forehead. He leaned closer until hour lips were barely touching and you quickly swiped up to loudly smooch his forehead.

You leaned back and saw a perfect kiss print right in the middle of his forehead and burst into a fit of giggles.

He closed his eyes tightly and whined. He thought you were making fun of him for his reactions to you missing his lips.

“Mesh’la….please..”, he whined and leaned his head to rest on your chest. You cooed at him and buried your hands in his curls.

“Last one, I promise, honey”, you told him softly and scratched his scalp.

He groaned quietly before nodded his head against your chest. He pulled away and let you go to the dresser to apply the last shade- the pink one.

“Your buir, is torturing me, grogu.”

Grogu looked up at Din with an ‘eh?’ and you laughed.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Tell me, how’s this one?”, you said while standing in front of him again. The shade made matched your complexion perfectly.

You hummed and held his face in your hands, his scruff tickling your palm. Your thumbs gently rubbed the tiny patches in his beard that didn’t grow any hair and you saw the way he almost purred at that.

“Beautiful, as always, cyare”, Din responded sincerely and flashed you a meek smile.

You leaned in and gently, very slowly, placed a kiss on his aquiline nose. You couldn’t resist so you pressed quick little kisses all over his nose and the apple of his cheeks and he burst out in a fit of giggles. You leaned back to admire the way his face was twisted in joy. You’d do anything to keep him this happy always.

He couldn’t resist it anymore and gently put a hand behind your head and brought you closer before locking his lips with yours.

Din let out a content hum and brought up a hand to caress your cheek. Your lips slotted against each other and you leaned closer to press your nose against his cheek. You pulled back breathlessly, but not before pressing three quick kisses against his lips.

Din was looking at you with his eyes shining with love and you let out a soft laugh after looking at your artwork. All of the lipstick colours had merged into each other and his face was splotched with hues of reds, pinks and maroons. He looked so precious that you pinched his cheeks.

“You might wanna check yourself out in the mirror, Din”, you told him gently while trying not to laugh. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and got up to look at himself in the mirror.

The way his face flashed with a thousand expressions per minute was comical. He was shocked, then confused, then offended and suddenly he let out a loud, wheezing laugh and threw his head back.

Your eyes widened. You’ve never heard this before. You didn’t even know he could wheeze like that. Your face split in a massive grin and you just stared at him.

His eyes were crinkled at the corners, making his crowsfeet more pronounced, his dimple was fully on show and he was clutching his stomach. You don’t remember the last time he laughed so carelessly. And you being the reason of this? It made you feel all fuzzy and sweet inside.

Grogu was startled by the sound of his laugh. He cooed at you and asked you to pick him up.

“Look at buir, grogu”, you told him gleefully and brought him closer to Din.

As soon as he saw Din’s face, he squealed out loudly and touched his face with his little hands. Din squinted his eyes to look at Grogu while letting out tiny chuckles.

“So, this was the experiment?”, he asked you in between chuckles, his shoulders shaking.

You just flashed him a sweet smile and batted your eyes at him.

He stared at you are a second before leaning in and kissing you all over your face. You squealed and held his shoulders for support. Grogu squealed loudly and clapped his hands.

After his attack was over, Din pulled back and leaned his cheek against yours, looking at you in the mirror.

“Now we match”, he said cheekily.

You pressed your cheek harder against him and giggled before your eyes fell on the green child who was now biting his finger.

“Except for someone….”, you trailed off and looked at Grogu.

You and Din gave each other a look and you dived in, kissing Grogu on each cheek repeatedly. The entire room echoed with Grogu’s squeals and giggles.

Safe to say, your experiment was successful.

AN: i miss din and grogu so bad 💔

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fluff-lover · 5 days ago

Text

“Sleepy time for papa and grogu”

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader, Grogu x Parent!Reader, Grogu x Parent!Din Djarin

Summary: You help your favourite boys get adjusted in your new house.

Warnings: Mentions of nightmares/insomnia, mentions of the razor crest blowing up, Established relationship, it’s all nice and sweet fluff with our favourite boys. Also din is helmetless ok cus we deserve more helmetless din content.

Author’s Note: my boys….i assume they must’ve had a hard time getting comfortable in their nevarro cabin at first since they’re used to cramping in a single cot together 🙁 just a self indulgent fic to help my little baby din and little grogu feel comfy and safe in their new house.

You opened your bleary and half asleep eyes to check the display of the clock on your bedside table. 3:15 am, it said. At first, you felt annoyed at the fact that something had woken you up after trying so hard to fall asleep. You see, this was your first time sleeping in this house. And it has been a huge adjustment. But then your sleep addled mind registered that it wasn’t something, but rather someone’s restless movements that woke you up.

You tiredly shuffled until you were on your right side and saw your partner’s muscular and broad back next to you. He was the one who was constantly moving around in bed and that is what woke you up. You’ve never seen Din so restless before, usually out cold the moment he closes his eyes. You opened your bleary eyes fully to see him moving once more before he came face to face with you, let out a big sigh and finally opened his eyes. You swore his brown eyes shone even in the moonlight that came in from your bedroom window. “Oh. I’m so sorry for waking you up, cyare”, he said sheepishly in his soft voice and brought his right arm out of the blanket to cup your cheek.

You sleepily shuffled closer to him and put your hand on top of the one on your cheek. “It’s okay, honey. You’re moving so much…can’t sleep? Somethin’ on your mind?”, you said. He smiled at your concern for him even though he woke you up from your well deserved sleep and rubbed his thumb across your cheek. “Well..I’m not used to such a big space…this bed is too soft…the room is too big…. the silence is so loud that my ears are ringing and…yeah”, he said quietly.

You opened your eyes at this and jutted your bottom lip out at him, removing your hand on top of his to put it on his cheek instead. “Din…im so sorry, cyare. I should’ve checked on you before dozing off. I know all this is new for you”, you said softly while caressing his stubbled cheek. He turned his head to kiss your palm and put his arm around your waist to bring you closer. He leaned his head further in your hand and looked at you with a fond expression. “Don’t apologise, mesh’la…im glad you could get some sleep, atleast. It’s just new to me. And I…,” he trailed off, letting out a big sigh and closing his eyes, as if to avoid being judged by you.

You furrowed your eyebrows at this. “What’s wrong? You know you can tell me anything, right?”, you say gently. He opened his eyes and put his hand back on your cheek. “I know…it’s just..” he took a deep breath in. “I miss the razor crest. I know it was far from a home but…she was my home. She gave me protection during the worst times. And in one way or another, she’s the reason why I have you and the kid with me. I don’t care if there wasn’t enough space. I miss her and I miss our small, hard cot where the three of us would sleep cramped in together. This cabin is really lovely, don’t get me wrong. But it’s so big and now we’re all so far away from each other”, he finished, sounding meek and shy by the end of it. He tangled his hand in your hair to distract him from the blush that was appearing on his cheeks.

Maker, your heart grew three sizes after listening to his confession. You know he struggles with expressing himself but he’s gotten better at it ever since he met you and it’s just getting better ever since he reunited with grogu. Seeing your big, bad mandalorian be vulnerable with you was an honour. “Din Djarin, you are such a softie, did you know that?”, you joked softly while messing his soft hair. He smiled shyly, dimple on show and all. You pushed his hair away from his forehead. “It’s completely okay to miss The Crest, Din. She was a junk, but she was Our junk and she was comfortable, yeah? I can’t tell you how devastated I was when I saw her blow up. I miss her too. She gave the three of us a safe space to be together as a family”, you say affectionately while rubbing your thumb across his hairline. The razor crest will always have a special moment in your hearts. Just as Din was about to speak, you heard a coo from the doorway.

Both of you instantly snapped your heads to see what happened for the kid to leave his crib and join you, only to see that his little body was standing in the doorway with his tiny hands holding his frog plushie, dragging it on the ground because it was bigger than him. He was rubbing one of his eyes with his tiny clawed hand and he cooed once again, as if asking you to pick him up.

Before you even had a chance to move, Din gently removed himself from your embrace and made his way to the kid. “What’s wrong, buddy? Did you have a bad dream?”, he said while picking his son up and caressing his back with his hand. “Bu….”, Grogu cooed once again. The moment he saw you, he made grabby hands at you and demanded to be held. Din smiled. He brought him over to the bed and handed Grogu over to you.

“Hi baby, what’s wrong?”, you asked softly while taking Grogu in your arms. You placed him on your stomach and he hugged his frog stuffy closer to him and looked at you and Din with his bright eyes. “Bu….Ma?”, he cooed while pointing at you and Din. “Yeah kid, we’re right here. What’s wrong?”, Din said while rubbing his tiny hand with his thumb. Grogu climbed down from your stomach and laid down in between you and Din, frog stuffy still clutched in his hands. You and Din looked at each other and smiled. You put your hand on grogu’s little stomach and rubbed it softly. You and Din wanted Grogu to have a space of his own after spending much of his tiny life in confinement and on the run. You had designed his room in beautiful colours and a nice big crib where he could crawl around and put all of his stuffies in. He also had his own wardrobe and a chest of drawers filled with toys. But it looks like even he was missing The Crest with his whole tiny heart.

“You don’t want to go back to your bed, adi’ka? Your plushies are waiting for you.” Din said while rubbing Grogu’s big ears. Grogu looked at Din and let out a soft cry of protest and held your fingers tightly. Din furrowed his eyebrows and looked at you for help. You understood what was happening and let out a quiet giggle. “Looks like someone misses sleeping together with his buirs, isn’t that right, Grogu?”. Grogu let out a huff and blinked up at Din as if he was saying “that’s right, dad.”

Din let out a tiny gasp in realisation and smiled fondly. “Oh I’m so sorry, buddy. You can sleep in here with us”, he said while rubbing Grogu’s tiny head. You observed your boys with a loving look. “How about I help both of you fall asleep, hm?”, you asked while running your hand through Din’s messy curls. Both Grogu and Din turned to look at you. Grogu cooed while smiling and Din flashed his dimpled smile at you. You took that as a yes and laid down. You pick up Grogu and gently set him back on your stomach and settle his stuffie next to him. “Comfortable? You got your friend with you as well”, you ask while running your hand across his tiny back. Grogu let’s out a sigh just like Din does and cuddles closer to you. You and Din let out happy giggles and you finally turn to look at Din. “Lay down, cyare. Come on, it’s sleepy time for papa and grogu”, you say while opening your arms.

Din simply shook his head with a fond smile on his face and hovered over you before cupping your cheek and pressing a lingering kiss on your forehead. You closed your eyes and smiled. He pulled back to look at you with so much love in his eyes before kissing you gently. You kissed him back, nudging your nose against his gorgeous, aquiline nose. He pulled back to stare at you, as if memorising your face and rubbed his thumb across your cheek. “I love you, mesh’la. You’re everything to us”, he says while looking deeply into your eyes. You blushed at this and let out a soft sigh. “Din…you and grogu are literally my heart and my soul. I love you both, so much. I-” you felt a tug at your shirt and looked down at Grogu staring at you two like you disturbed his sleep. He cooed and pulled at Din’s shirt, as if asking him to lay down quickly.

You and Din laughed and Din immediately laid down. He put his arm around Grogu and across your stomach and put his head on your chest. You pushed your right hand through his curls and massaged his scalp which made Din let out a deep sigh and cuddle closer to you. Your left hand was rubbing Grogu’s head softly. “Okay boys, you can relax now. I’m right here. We’re all together now, okay?”, you asked and left a kiss on top of Din’s head. You waited for any movement from them and soon heard both of them snoring softly. You smiled to yourself and buried your face in Din’s curls, falling asleep quickly.

Soon, you realised that home was wherever the three of you were together and that this house would become a Home as well.

300 notes · View notes

fluff-lover · 5 days ago

Text

Nescient

nescient (adj.): unaware, a lack of awareness/knowledge, unknown, blissfully unaware

pairing: din djarin x reader

synopsis: he didn't like you like that. there was no way he liked you like that? right?

din and the reader are both oblivious to the obvious

word count: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of injuries/descriptions of a blaster wound and wrapping up a wound, idiots in love, possible grammar error due to my cat walking across my keyboard multiple times, slight miscommunication, fluff

masterlist

a/n: this is my entry for the @pedrostories secret santa this year! this fic was so fun to write, and it is for @ghostofskywalker! i love the prompts that you gave, and they work perfectly with din. i hope you enjoy! happy holidays love!

do not steal my work.

credit to gif creator!

You were not happy to be on Tatooine. The last time you two had stopped here, there was sand coming out of your supplies for what seemed like rotations, and you were not looking forward to that again. On top of the blistering heat, you couldn't say it was your favorite place to be right now. Din had a knack for returning to this sandy planet though, which meant you accompanied.

"Remember your canteen this time, the last time you forgot it you nearly passed out." You called out to him as the hatch of the Crest started to open, welcoming the rays of sun into the cabin.

"Thank you, I've got it this time." He motioned to his utility belt before walking down the ramp, seeing the curly-haired woman on the other side and greeting her. You were gathering some last minute supplies you would need for this hunt, alongside some extra items you knew Din would swear he would not need, but would gladly take if offered.

That's how it was with you two--you knew each other. You'd been traveling together for so long you couldn't remember when it started, and had grown to know the other like you were one.

It was for reasons like that that you had fallen for him, though you knew he would never feel the same. It took a while to process, but you decided to show your love in the ways you knew best to cope. Taking the lead on hunts when you knew he'd been through a lot, performing maintenance on the ship when he was (finally) asleep, tending to him when he was sick, and so on.

It was all you could do, so damn it if you didn't do it well.

A familiar water flask shook you out of your thoughts, and you playfully rolled your eyes as you picked up his canteen lying by some storage crates.

You made your way outside, briefly pausing as you saw Din converse with Peli. He was truly a kind man, and though he put up the front that he did, you could see right through it. Peli noticed you then, waving to you as you made eye contact. You waved back, making your way to the two of them.

"Good afternoon Peli." You nodded to her as she did to you as you took your spot next to Din. His shoulder pauldron was brushing against your cloak as you stood, and it sent butterflies fluttering throughout your stomach.

"I was just telling Peli here how you nearly fell asleep on lookout last time we were on a hunt, and how nice it is for her to look after our ship."

Our ship.

Yeah, everything was fine. Totally, completely fine.

"Tough talk coming from the guy who's average 'lookout' more often than not results in you accidentally catching something on fire with that new jetpack of yours."

You could hear the sigh from him a mile away, the playful undertones seeping through like harmonies in a song. "It happened one time."

"Try telling that to the garden you set ablaze. The garden, which I should mention, that took cycles upon cycles to cultiva--"

"--anyways Peli, we wanted to say thank you." You turned to him and stood there agape.

"There's no way you just cut me off."

"I have no idea what you mean." You could hear that damn smirk through the modulator.

"Okay you two, take it easy for a second." Peli laughed as she disappeared for a moment. "You guys take your time on your little adventure, I will be here with a fixed ship once you're back!" She waved you off as she motioned you two to the exit, to which you gave her a nod in thanks.

As you got to the outskirts of town, you handed him his canteen. "Thought you might be needing this."

A small chuckle rose out of the Mandalorian, and you had not a clue about the smile behind his helmet.

"Off we go?" You looked at him before holding out the tracking fob, the familiar beeping bringing a weird sense of peace to you.

"Yes, mesh'la, off we go."

And if you weren't overthinking it, you could have sworn that he stared at you for a few seconds longer than normal before starting on the way.

The hunt had been messy. You had gotten the guy but at the cost of Din's patience and a nasty blaster shot to your arm. The whole hunt was doomed from the start, you both had now realized, but it was a little too late to fix the way things turned out.

What was currently being fixed now though was said wound. Din sat on a crate next to you as you hissed in pain, quickly jerking your arm away from the bacta spray he had in hand.

"If you stop moving then we can get this healed sooner."

"If you would just get it over with instead of taking so long a new cycle starts, maybe I wouldn't be so jumpy." You said through gritted teeth.

It was remarkable, really, how gentle he was with your wounds. The duality of the man before you, an infamous bounty hunter who was afraid to make your arm hurt worse. You tried not to think too much into it.

He ignored you as he continued. "It's already cauterized, which is the good part. The bacta spray is going to really pinch though."

You looked at his visor, imagining that you could actually see his eyes. "Yes, Din. I've gotten a blaster shot before."

He huffed in response. He went to use the spray, but his gloves kept catching on it, causing you to chuckle. He really was adorable in times like this.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing."

And then he did something that left you almost speechless.

"Oh, nothing." He mumbled under his breath, playfully mocking you.

You looked at him wide-eyed, baffled. A sense of elation lit up inside you--yes you two had gotten relatively close, but it was always you who was insinuating the jokes, poking fun at him.

You smiled so wide it hurt, the familair sense of adoration washing over you once more.

"Oh, so you've got humor now?"

He nodded shyly, before he took off his gloves. It wasn't much that he took his armor off in front of you, but on the rare occasion that he did, it made you feel honored. And even though it was just a pair of gloves, the meaning behind just this simple action meant more than a million credits.

As he reached for the spray again, the pain in your arm started to throb. You had been able to put it into the back of your mind thanks to Din's distraction, but the air had now started to turn stuffy as the pain made itself known.

"If it helps," Din started as he finally was able to take ahold of the spray. "You probably won't die from this."

Who was the man standing before you now?

"Oh, now you've got jokes too?" One of his hands grabbed your own, and it sent a shiver down your spine. The rest of your words died on your lips as his hand nervously locked into yours, and Maker you swore maybe the shot in the arm did kill you because he started to swipe his thumb over your knuckles.

His hand gave yours a quick squeeze, and before you could process it you felt a blinding pain on your arm. He set the spray down as you squeezed his hand to release some of the pain, and it was mesmerizing how he was able to gather the supplies to wrap your arm up with one hand, yet his other still rested in yours.

"If you had moved just slightly, the blaster would have pierced your heart." He spoke with a finality laced with hints of fear, one that was unbeknownst to you.

"But it didn't hit that, did it?" You huffed in response.

"You're so...frustrating sometimes, you know that?"

A laugh escaped you. "Okay? Fork spotted in kitchen. You're incredibly careless when it comes to yourself too."

His hand still held yours, and whether he was aware of it or not, he gave yours another squeeze.

"You know, Peli said something to me earlier today."

Always changing the subject, this one.

"Oh yeah? What did she say?" You took this as your cue to start rubbing his knuckles with your hand, and for a moment you hoped that maybe he felt the same.

That was impossible. You knew him, and you knew his thoughts of you well enough by now. He would never feel the same way, not in a--

"She said we act like an 'old married couple'".

You swore your heart went into your throat.

"She--an--what?"

He nodded in agreement, before taking a deep breath. The air had shifted after that proclamation, the sounds of the Crest occupying the space between you two.

"I blew her off that is. She told me to get over myself, but I--"

"Din, you're not making any sense right now. Get over yourself?"

He must have realized that your hands were still intertwined, because he took his back slowly. It seemed like he was gauging a war within himself, one that you had no clue about.

Once the winning side was announced, you saw him quickly flex his hands--a sign of nerves.

"Din?"

"She said that because I have feelings for you."

It seemed as if you grew momentary tunnel vision, the world centering into only him at that second. All other sounds muted, and you felt the blood rushing in your ears as he saw you widen your eyes.

"I told her I knew you wouldn't reciprocate, and then she told me that--"

"You have feelings for me?" You didn't even notice that you asked that question.

"Yes, haven't I been making it obvious?"

"What? No, you haven't." There was no way this was happening. "I have feelings for you too." There it was, out in the open.

A wave of relief passed through him, followed immediately by confusion. h=He took a deep breath. "You what? There's no way."

"Haven't I been obvious?" You chuckled at the irony of it all. "I gave you my best vibroblade, fixed your ship whenever you were gone, brought back gifts from excursions for you--I wouldn't have done that for just anyone." You leaned back on the crate. "I thought you knew."

"I had no idea. I thought you were aware of mine." He mimicked your action. "You're the only one I'd take off parts of my armor for, I've--" He coughed, suddenly embarrassed, "I've been trying to court you for months. Your new blaster I won for you? The mudhorn crest you bare? In my culture, that's how we ask for one's hand."

You smiled, remembering how nervous he was to give you the wrist cuff emblazoned with the mudhorn not too long ago. You had just thought it meant that you two were close, nothing more.

"We're idiots, you know that?"

A soft chuckle emitted from his modulator. "I would have to agree."

He reached for your face then, bare hand on your skin. A chill rushed down your spine, his helmet looking directly at you. "In Mandalorian culture, we kiss differently due to our helmets. It's called a--"

"Kedable Kiss?" You glanced at his visor.

"You know what that is but you don't know our courting rituals?"

A laugh escaped as he cupped your face. "Excuse me for not reading up on the 'courting of Mandalorians.'" You spoke the last words in a mock serious tone, one that had you chuckling but him melting.

"I'm going to kiss you now if that's alright."

A shy smile appeared on your lips. "Such a gentleman with it."

"You're ruining the mood." He mumbled coyly, as he reached his forehead to touch yours. While this wasn't the type of kiss you were necessarily used to, the meaning was all the same. You closed your eyes as the beskar touched your head.

"You know something, mesh'la?"

"Hmm?" You had no idea what that word meant, but that was not on your list of priorities at the moment.

"I wouldn't put myself on the line for anyone but you." You moved your hands to hold his helmet, and you were glad you two were sitting because you did not trust your knees right now.

"How I love you Din."

"Oh, you have no idea."

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fluff-lover · 5 days ago

Note

Oo okay how about "The Flowers of Yesterday" with Logan!!

Omg ok this title is screaming “angst.” But I gotta give it a happy ending. I just gotta.

Particularly imagining Origins!Logan for this

So I imagine this being like a Notebook AU. Reader is a wealthy girl from the city spending summer in the Canadian mountains with her fam. She meets a handsome lumberjack named Logan. They have a wonderful summer together, with Logan bringing Reader flowers every day. But they can never be together. After Reader goes back home to the city, Logan sends her a flower every day to her house. But they go unanswered. Reader’s mom hides them. Then they meet up again years later (Reader got married but has since become a widow). Logan tells her he sent her flowers every day, but Reader says she never got them. The two spend more time together, confess their love in the rain, and go into his house to have passionate sex like in the movie. Logan proposes to her and Reader accepts. Only he doesn’t propose to her with a ring, but a flower.

fic game: send me the title of a made up fic (with the character of your choice) and I'll tell you what the plot would be/write a blurb from it!

38 notes · View notes

fluff-lover · 6 days ago

Text

The Librarian & The Wolverine ~ The Love

THE LIBRARIAN & THE WOLVERINE MASTERLIST

< previous: The Library

Word Count: 5,215ish

Summary: You and Logan fall deeper in love.

Warning(s): mentions of sex and insecurities, nakedness, time jumps

Notes: I'm so glad I'm making a small series out of this! I hope you guys enjoy it! And a reminder, I DO NOT DO TAGLISTS. I just encourage everyone to follow and interact! I’m excited for this series! Likes, reblogs, comments and asks are encouraged and very appreciated!

The week after you both confessed your feelings had been sweet. It was quiet and a little awkward. Logan still brought you coffee every morning with a kiss. You still saved him the same table in the library, but with more notes. You talked more and laughed more. And maybe stared a little longer than necessary, but who was to blame either of you. You share soft kisses occasionally, along with smiles and nervous looks.

You were just locking up the library for the evening, when you turned and suddenly Logan was there.

“Shit,” you breathed, pressing a hand to your chest. “You move too quiet.”

He chuckled. “Sorry. Didn’t know you swear.”

“Try not to… what’s up?”

“I just— I wanted to catch you before you disappeared for the night.”

You smiled. “You’ve caught me.”

“I was thinkin’…”

You tilted your head. “That’s always a good start.”

He huffed out a small laugh, still not quite looking you in the eye. “I was thinkin’ maybe… you and me. We could, uh, I dunno. Go somewhere. Like, on purpose.”

Your heart fluttered. “Like a date?”

His eyes finally met yours. “Yeah. Like a real on. Not just me makin’ excuses to be in the library.”

You giggled. “I like those excuses.”

He shrugged. “Still got more if this goes bad.”

You took a step closer, reaching out so that your fingers brushed lightly against his. “It won’t.”

“So… you wanna?”

“Logan, of course I want to go on a date with you.”

He looked stunned for just a moment— like he wasn’t sure what he expected, but that answer had knocked the wind out of him. And then he nodded, lips twitching into a kind smile he gave only to you. “I’ll come up with something good.” His hands timidly came to your sides, pulling you in. He gave your lips a light kiss.

You smiled. “It already is.”

~~~

You were expecting something simple. Maybe coffee or a movie or a walk in the garden. What you didn’t expect was to find Logan standing outside your door in a fresh flannel and cleaned leather jacket, holding a picnic basket. You noticed how he looked deeply uncomfortable, like he might bolt.

“This is not a trick,” he muttered. “I swear.”

You held back a laugh. “Did you… pack dinner?”

His ears went pink. “Jean said you liked stars. And quiet. Figured the back hill would be better than a crowded restaurant.”

You gave him a peck on the cheek before smiling. “It’s perfect.”

~~~

The two of you walked in silence at first. It wasn’t awkward. Logan had the picnic basket in one hand and your hand in the other. When you reached the top of the grassy hill, Logan laid out a blanket like he’d done it a thousand times, though he clearly hadn’t. Then he opened the basket. Inside you found six sandwiches, a few bags of chips, two water bottles, a small thermos of coffee, and a flask of something strong.

“Fancy,” you teased, sitting down beside the basket.

He shrugged, joining you. “Didn’t know what you liked, so I made three kinds.”

You glanced at him. “You made all this?”

“Yeah, well, I’m tryin’ to impress ya.”

“Logan, we’ve already said ‘I love you’.”

“Still doesn’t mean I need to stop impressin’ you. Besides, it’s kinda hard to order takeout when Scott insists on background checks.”

You laugh, fully this time. Logan simply watches you, like the sound of your laughter is the only thing in the world that matters.

~~~

The stars were finally out. The two of you had eaten and drank and laughed more than you expected. Logan talked more than you’ve ever heard him talk— about motorcycles, teaching, how bad Scott is at poker, and the one time he got stuck in the elevator with Hank and a box of frogs.

Now, you’re curled up beside him on the blanket. The two of you are laying down, but not touching just yet.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Logan looked over, confused. “For what?”

“For this. For trying… most people haven’t with me.”

“Well, it’s easy to try when it’s you.” He leaned over and kissed you.

~~~

Back at the mansion, the two of you lingered at your bedroom door. Neither of you wanted to say goodnight. Logan was standing just a little too close, like his body couldn’t help it anymore. His hand was still holding yours.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said softly.

You nodded.

He leaned in, brushing your noses together before kissing you again. His hand let go of yours so that he could take a hold of your waist. Yours tangled into his jacket. When the kiss finally broke, he rested his forehead against yours.

“Was tonight okay?” He asked quietly.

“I’d like to do it again,” you replied.

“Tomorrow?”

You laughed. “You’re eager.”

“I waited a long time for you. Can’t pretend otherwise.”

~~~

The kitchen is its usual morning mess— half the adults are gathered for breakfast as students ran around. Storm was calmly pouring coffee while Scott argued with Kurt about whose turn it was to do dishes. You walked in with a soft smile on your lips, wearing your usual cardigan and glasses.

Jean caught your mood instantly, lifting an eyebrow at you. “Well, well,” she smirked into her mug.

You paused. “What?”

“Nothing. Just… you look like you had a very good night.”

You froze. Behind you, someone choked on their drink.

“Bobby,” Storm warned.

You kept your expression as neutral as you could. “I had dinner.”

“With Logan,” Jean added. “Picnic, stargazing, lots of staring?”

“… maybe.”

“Did he bring the thermos?” Storm looked at you knowingly.

“How did you know about the thermos?”

“Because I lent it to him and I told him not to screw the night up.”

You sat down, flustered. Logan walked in a moment later— causal and calm with his hands in his pockets. He surveyed the room until his eyes landed on you. He smirked, one reserved only for you.

You glared at him, glasses slipping down your nose. “They know.”

He shrugged, sitting beside you. “Yeah, well, it’s not like it was a secret.”

Scott muttered into his toast, “Help us all if Logan starts humming.”

Jean nudged you under the table, whispering, “He’s so into you.”

“I know,” you mumbled as Logan took your hand with a grin on his face.

~~~

Logan quickly became hopelessly addicted to touching you.

The Hallway

You were walking down the corridor with a few folders in hand when Logan passed you going the other way. He didn’t stop, just ran a hand low across your back in passing, warm and protective. You glanced over your shoulder. He smirked but kept walking.

The Pocket Tug

You were shelving books when he appeared behind you— hands full of coffee and muffins. Instead of setting them down like a normal person, Logan tugged gently on the back pocket of your jeans with two fingers to get your attention. You turned, amused.

“Your hands are full,” you teased.

He shrugged. “Didn’t mean I couldn’t say hi.” He leaned in and kissed you— soft and slow.

“Also, it’s ‘doesn’t’. Not ‘didn’t’.”

“Grammar police.”

Then he captured your lips again. He only released them when someone coughed from the doorway.

The Kitchen

You were making tea. Logan wasn’t even hungry, he could just sense you in there. He walked up behind you and slipped his arms around your waist, face buried in your shoulder.

“I’m trying to stir,” you mumble, smiling.

“Mhm,” he hummed. “You stir. I’ll hold.”

Reading

Logan found you on the couch in the library. Your feet were up, you had a thick look in your lap, and your glassed were slipping slightly. Without a word, Logan lied down and rested his head in your lap. He closed his eyes like this was the safest place in the world. You didn’t stop reading. Your hand found his hair and began to card through it.

~~~

Months later…

You’d fallen asleep against him on one of the couches in the library. Your hand was gripping his shirt and your head was on his chest. He didn’t sleep. He just held you— warm and still, letting your breath soothe the haunted parts of him. But even in all that closeness, something lingered.

Logan hadn’t kissed you like he wanted more. And you hadn’t asked. It’s not that he didn’t want to have sex with you, he just didn’t want to push you. He couldn’t help but wonder what your thoughts were on the matter.

So the next morning, Logan walked down to the greenhouse, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, jaw tight. Jean and Ororo were tending to the plants, using this time to catch up with each other and gossip. He can hear them laugh and wondered if he should turn around and forget about it. But he didn’t, because you matter.

“Hey,” he said, clearing his throat.

Booth women looked up, curious.

“Hey, Logan,” Jean greeted.

“You alright?” Ororo asked gently, wiping the dirt from her hands.

He shifted his weight. “Can I ask you both somethin’? Personal.”

Ororo lifted an amused brow. “You? Asking permission?”

Logan scowled. “Don’t get used to it.”

Silence fell between them for a moment.

“It’s about… her,” he admitted. “The librarian. Y/N.”

Jean’s smile softened. “Of course. Is Y/N okay?”

“She’s fine. Better than fine. Just—“ He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was wonderin’ if she ever… well… If she’s ever talked to either of you about… y’know… being ready. With me. That way.”

“That way?”

“You know what I mean. Intimacy. Sex.”

Ororo set down her watering can. “Logan.”

He lifted a hand. “I’m not askin’ for details. I’m just— she’s been real quiet. And I don’t want to rush her. I just don’t wanna screw this up by moving too fast or waiting too long or— hell, I don’t know. Anything.”

The women exchanged a glance before Jean carefully spoke up. “She’s never brought that up. Not to us, anyway.”

Logan frowned. “She hasn’t?”

“No,” Ororo confirmed. “If she’s nervous, she’s keeping it to herself.”

“But it’s not fear,” clarified Jean. “Not from what I can see and sense. It’s just… tenderness. Caution. She loves you, Logan. Deeply. Maybe even a little too much.”

That made his heart lurch in his chest. “Too much?”

“She’s never had someone like you. Someone who listens and waits. She’s probably afraid the second she gives all of herself… you’ll disappear.”

“I ain’t going anywhere.”

“We know. But she’s the one who needs to hear it.”

~~~

You were resolving a stack of books when you heard boots behind you. You didn’t turn, you knew it was Logan.

“You ever wonder,” he spoke up softly. “Why it’s always so quiet when I walk in here?”

You smiled faintly. “Because you respect the sanctity of my temple?”

He snorted and then silence fell between you both. He followed you as you placed the books perfectly back where they belonged.

“You nervous around me?” He suddenly asked.

You turned to face him. “What?”

“I mean, lately. When we’re alone. You get quiet. You lean in close, but you don’t… you never pull me in.”

You opened your mouth and then closed it. Not knowing what to say.

“I don’t want to pressure you. I just… I’ve been thinkin’ about being close to you. Real close. And if you ain’t ready, that’s fine. If you are— well, I just want to know if we’re on the same page. I want you, not just your time.”

“I… I thought I was the only one thinking about it.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yes, I’ve been nervous. I didn’t want to push or ruin anything. And I didn’t want you to feel like you had to—“

“I don’t have to do anything. I want to.”

You took a step forward. “Okay, so maybe we stop being nervous together.”

~~~

It was after hours. The library was empty and only lit by the various reading lamps scattered throughout. You were seated at your desk, books scattered around you and mostly forgotten. Your eyes skimmed the same line for the fourth time. Logan was across from you, reading something thick and ancient. He hadn’t moved far in his book either.

“Do you ever actually finish a book,” you teased, “or do you just keep rereading the same page to look smart for me?”

He raised an eyebrow and gave you a small, crooked grin. “You accusing me of fakin’ literacy?”

“I’m just saying… I’ve seen you on chapter five for a week.”

He leaned back in his chair, arms folded. “Maybe I’m just enjoying the scenery.”

Your face warmed and you quickly looked back down at your page. Logan stood slowly, the floor creaking beneath his boots, and walked around the table. When he reached your side, he leaned against the edge of the table, one hand braced near your book, the other trailing lightly across your shoulder.

“I like bein’ here with you,” he whispered.

You glanced up. “I like you being here too.”

He ran his fingers gently along your jaw. His touch was feather-light, reverent. You closed the book and fully looked up at him— his eyes dark and intent. He moved even closer, tilting your chin up as his thumb brushed your cheek.

“I think about kissin’ you every damn time I walk in here,” he muttered.

Your breath caught. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Logan’s lips met yours— slow, warm, and unhurried. You leaned into him, your hand gripping the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. His hands moved to better hold your face, deepening the kiss slowly.

He pulled back enough to whisper, “you okay?”

You nodded, breathless. “I’m good.”

He lifted you gently from the chair, guiding you towards the oversized armchair near the fireplace. You straddled his lap as he sat down. Your mouths found each other again in between soft laughs and short gasps. His hands settled at your waist, strong but patient. Yours explored his shoulders, his neck, and then the back of his head. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, kissing a trail up to your ear.

“Still okay?” He checked again.

“More than okay,” you replied.

The two of you lose yourselves in it— the touches and soft sounds. Logan never stopped checking in though, every movement a question. You tugged his shirt up. He pulled back to let you slip it over his head. You traced your fingers along his chest, memorizing him with touch, wishing you could like you did with the books. He watched you with something close to awe.

“I like the way you look at me,” he murmured.

You smiled. “Like you’re mine?”

“Yeah.”

Logan pulled you back in for a kiss. Your legged wrapped around his waist as his hands tug at your sweater. His lips began to trail slow, open-mouthed kisses down your neck.

He kissed just below your ear and growled, “you always smell like old books and warm paper. Drives me nuts.”

You were about to reply when—

“Logan,” Charles interrupted.

You and Logan froze.

“Apologies— Logan, we need you immediately,” that was Ororo.

You shoved yourself upright, practically falling off his lap as you scrambled to fix your sweater. Logan grunted as he grabbed his shirt and threw it back on.

“Were they— how long were they— were they standing there?!” Your thoughts are frantic and not coming together.

Logan didn’t look particularly embarrassed, just irritated. “They’ve seen worse.”

“That is not comforting.”

He brushed your cheek with his knuckles. “You okay?”

“No!” I’m going to die of mortification.”

He grinned and kissed your forehead. “You’ll live.” Then he called over his shoulder, “Give me one damn minute, Professor.”

“Of course, Logan,” Charles responded, sounding amused. “One minute.”

“Make it thirty seconds,” Ororo said. “The satellite images are degrading.”

Logan let out a heavy sigh before focusing back on you. “You want me to tell them off later?” He grabbed your hand.

You shook your head, still embarrassed. “Please don’t.”

Lifting your hand, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “You sure?”

“I’m not even sure I’ll ever recover from this.”

“We’ll pick up where we left off. Soon.”

You managed a tiny nod. “Okay.”

He gave your knuckles one last kiss before he let go, striding out the door. You buried your face in your hands.

~~~

You didn’t sleep well that night. Too many thoughts and too much mortification. In the morning, you showed up to breakfast late, dressed in a hoodie and no eye contact. You made it halfway to the coffee pot before you realized that it was too quiet. You looked around realizing that most of the adults and students were looking at you.

“Oh my God,” Jubilee hissed. “It’s true.”

“What’s true?” You questioned.

“Don’t play innocent,” Kitty chimed in with a grin. “You and Logan were totally—“

“Nope.” You spun on your heel. “Nope, nope, nope—“

You walked right into Ororo, who looked entirely too pleased.

“Good morning,” he said sweetly, stepping aside. “Sleep well?”

You groaned and covered your face. “This can’t be happening.”

“I did try to knock. The door was open. Blame Charles.”

“Oh, I absolutely blame both of you.”

You finally poured some coffee and retreated to the farthest corner of the room— trying to disappear into your mug. Of course, that’s is when Logan walked in. He strolled in like he didn’t get caught in a heavy make-out session with you twelve hours ago. He walked right past the gawking students, nodded at Scott, gave Jean a crooked grin, and made a beeline for you.

You hissed under your breath, letting the embarrassment talk, “please don’t sit with me.”

“Too late,” he replied. He dropped into the chair beside you and draped his arm along the back of yours.

“We should be acting subtle.”

“Nah. You were gonna pretend it never happened. Thought I’d remind ‘em you’re spoken for.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I’m in love with you. It’s different.” Your stomach flipped in the best way possible. “They’re gonna talk either way. Might as well give ‘em somethin’ worth talking about.” He pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek before leaning back with the smuggest expression you’ve ever seen.

You buried your face in your hands.

~~~

The library should’ve felt like home. It usually did. It was your sanctuary, your space. But today, it had been hard to stay grounded. Every time a student wandered in, you flinched at their glance. Every whisper from the hallway made your shoulders tighten. You caught a lot of them peeking through the doorway like something romantic or scandalous might be happening between the shelves.

Logan noticed. At first, it was little things. You didn’t hold his hand. You stayed at your desk instead of joining him in the corner. When he went to help you push your glasses back up your nose, you twitched and offered a shy, distracted smile. He didn’t say anything at first. But now, it was evening. Logan watched you from across your desk. You were reading, at least pretending to. You hadn’t turned a page in ten minutes.

Finally, he set his own book down and spoke up, “Is it me?”

Your eyes snapped up. “What?”

“This,” he gestured gently between you. “Us. The space you’re takin’. Is it because of me?”

Your stomach twisted. “No. No, Logan, it’s not— It’s not you.”

He nodded slowly, but stayed quiet.

“It’s everyone else… I know we were… seen. And I know I’m not great with people or attention…. Or gossip.” You pressed your fingers to your temples. “It’s like I went from invisible to tabloid headline overnight. And I don’t know how to exist in that space. I feel exposed.”

He leaned forward, resting his arms on your desk. “You don’t owe them anything.”

“I know that. But they look at me like I’m something new now. Not the quiet one with the books. Just ht girl who’s with you. And you— Logan, you’re not subtle.”

He grunted. ��Ain’t my fault you make me soft.”

That earned a faint smile from you.

“But I hear you. And I’m sorry I made it worse.”

“You didn’t. I mean it.” You reached across the desk and took his hand. “I love you. I’m just… struggling with being seen.”

Logan nodded. He gave your hand a squeeze before rising and moving to your side of the desk. He crouched beside your chair and gently took your hands in his. “Then we take the light off you.”

“What?”

“We let it die down. I won’t touch you in public for a bit. No jokes. No kissing your neck in the hallway—“

“You did that once.”

“And I would love to do it again. But if you’re not comfortable, I’ll pull back too. Not ‘cause I don’t love you, but because I do.”

“You’d do that for me?”

He lifted your hands up and kissed them both on the knuckles. “I’d do anything for you, sweetheart.”

You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his shoulder. He held you tight, warm and steady.

~~~

You tried to act normal when Logan told you he was leaving.

“It’s a week,” he said, running his thumb across your knuckles. “Ten days, max. Just a recon mission.”

You smiled and kissed him goodbye like you were strong enough to handle it. But when the het took off the next morning, a tightness settled in your chest that wouldn’t go away. You had always lived with the risk. Being at the mansion meant danger was part of the job— his job especially. But now that he was yours— now that you had something to lose— everything felt more fragile.

~~~

The first night, you didn’t sleep. You sat in the library long after hours, rechecking the same cataloging spreadsheet three times, only to realize that your eyes hadn’t moved down the page at all.

The second night, you tried sleeping in your own bed. Logan and you had only shared a bed a few times, just because you or him had fallen asleep first while reading. Still, you missed his familiar weight next to him.

The third night, you snapped. You walked the hallway barefoot, your cardigan pulled tight around you. You didn’t even think about it— moving like you were sleepwalking. You were at his room in an instant. The scent hit you the second you opened the door— leather, smoke, and cedar. You shut the door quietly behind you and crawled into his bed. You slept for ten hours.

~~~

Logan opened the door to his room just past midnight. His clothes were torn, blood drying on his knuckles, and muscles aching from a fight he hadn’t wanted. He expected silence and to be alone, instead he found the soft lump of your shape in his bed. He took a careful step forward. There you were— curled up in the middle of the mattress, his pillow under your cheek. Your face was peaceful but tired, like you’d fought something in your dreams and finally surrendered. His heart cracked. You didn’t stir when he moved or flinch as he sat beside you and brushed his hand gently along your arm.

“Sweetheart,” he whispered.

You stirred, eyes blinking slowly open. You were confused for a heartbeat. But when your gaze landed on Logan, you surged upright and threw your arms around his neck.

“I thought—“ your voice cracked. “I couldn’t—“

“I know,” he murmured, holding you tight. “I’m sorry.”

“You were gone too long.”

“I know. I missed you every second.” The two of you sat like that for a long time. “I’m going to go clean up and then I’ll be right back.” He kissed your temple. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

As promised, Logan cleaned up quickly and came back to lie beside you. He pulled the blankets over both of you and cradled you close.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you whispered.

He kissed your head. “Sleep now. I’m here.”

~~~

You woke slowly, warmth surrounding you. Logan. You were half on top of him, your cheek against his chest. His arm was slung protectively across your back, keeping you close. Even asleep, he held you like he was still afraid you might disappear. You tilted your head and looked up just as his eyes opened.

“Morning,” you whispered.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice still full of sleep.

You shifted up slowly until you could kiss his jaw, then his cheek, and then finally his lips. “I missed you.”

He kissed you again. “Missed you more than I’ve missed anything.”

You giggled. “You’re dramatic in the morning.”

“Only ‘cause it’s true.”

~~~

A few days later, you and Logan were curled up in his bed, reading. One of Logan’s arms were around you, keeping you close to his side. You could feel him watching you when he thought you weren’t looking. You lowered your book and closed it softly on your lap.

He glanced over. “Good?”

You nodded. “Very.”

He turned back to his book, but the corner of his mouth twitched up like he was trying not to smile. You looked at him for a moment. At the little crease between his brows as he read. The way his breathing was calm around you.

“I’ve been thinking,” you murmured.

He glanced at you again. “Yeah?”

You slide your book aside and shifted closer to Logan. “I, uh… I want you.”

His breath caught slightly. Slowly, he closed his own book and put it to the side.

“I know you’ve been waiting for me to be ready,” your fingered brushed the hem of his shirt. “I think I am.”

He cupped your cheek with one warm hand. “You don’t have anything to prove.”

“I’m not trying to prove anything. I’m trying to be with you. The way I want to be.”

His jaw flexed as his eyes searched yours like he was still not sure he was allowed to believe this was real. You leaned in first. Your kiss was soft— a question, not a command. And Logan answered with everything he had. The kiss deepened gradually, his hand sliding to your hand and the other to your waist. But he still let you guide the pace. You shifted to straddle his lap, causing his breath to hitch but his hands remained gentle.

He pulled back, lips brushing yours. “You sure, sweetheart?”

You met his eyes and nodded. “I’m sure.”

He kissed you again— slower and deeper this time. You felt his hands roam your back, slipping under your shirt. The two of you continued, slowly pulling pieces of clothing off of each other. He carefully moved you so that he was hovering over you. Then he paused again. One hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing your lower lip.

“You okay?” He checked in again.

“Yeah,” you nodded, breathless. “You?”

He gave a low, half-laugh like he couldn’t believe you were even asking. “Sweetheart, I’m tryin’ real hard not to fall apart.”

You smiled. “That’s okay.”

His jaw tightened. “Tell me if I go too fast. If anything doesn’t feel right, I’ll stop. I’ll always stop.”

“I know…” you reached out and touched his cheek. “That’s why I’m not scared.”

He kissed you again and this time, there was no more space between you.

~~~

The sun was just beginning to rise, casting pale gold light through the window. Your head rested on Logan’s bare chest, one arm draped across his stomach. He had an arm around you while the other hand lazily stroked your back beneath the sheets. Logan shifted a little beneath you and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Mornin’,” he murmured, voice scratchy.

You hummed into his skin. “Don’t say anything yet… I want to stay like this for a little longer.”

“Me too.” His fingers traced lazy circles against your spine. “You feel okay?”

“More than okay.”

He exhaled, a breath of relief.

“I mean it. I don’t regret it at all.”

“And you’re not worried about what anyone’s gonna say?”

“Not anymore.”

He pulled you closer. “I love you. All of you. Always will.”

You looked up at him. “I love you too.”

~~~

Since the two of you had been more intimate, the little moments had gotten more heated.

Another Library Make-Out

It started out innocent as it always did. You were sitting in his lap at the table in the corner. You were laughing, breathless from a shard joke. His hand slipped up your back and just like that, he was kissing you. Open-mouthed and hungry. His hands gripped your hips like he was trying to memorize the shape of you. His tongue teased yours and you sighed into it, fingers tugging at his hair. A book fell off the table, but neither of you stopped.

Shirtless

Logan was fixing a leak in the faculty room— shirt off, low-slung jeans, and sweat glistening down his chest. You showed up with a drink and an innocent smile. You didn’t mean to stare, but you do, and Logan noticed.

“You’re gawkin’,” he muttered.

“You’re… sweaty,” you replied quietly.

He grinned. “You say that like it’s a problem.”

Next thing you knew, your back was pressed against the wall. Logan’s hands were braced on either side of your head and his mouth was on your neck.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispered against your skin.

You didn’t.

The Bedroom

You entered his room late, needing comfort. You immediately got slammed into the door with a kiss that stole your breath. Logan muttered your name like a prayer between kisses, lips finding the base of your throat, the corner of your mouth, and your collarbone. His hands roamed— reverent and greedy all at the same time.

“Tell me what you need,” he said into your skin.

You gasped, fingers curling into his shirt. “You… just you.”

He lifted you— easily— and laid you on the bed.

The Kitchen

You were cleaning up after dinner when he grabbed you from behind, hands slipping under your shirt and mouth finding that spot just below your ear that made your knees weak.

“Every time you bend over,” he murmured against your neck, “I lose years off my life.”

You giggled, flushed. “Then stop staring.”

“Not a chance.”

His hands slid lower as his hips pressed against yours. The oven timer beeped, but neither of you moved.

The Shower

You were washing your body when the door creaked open. Suddenly, Logan was behind you, slipping under the stream, kissing water from your skin, with his hands gliding up your sides like the steam belonged to him.

“Needed to touch you,” he murmured. “Couldn’t sleep.”

You turned and kissed him like you meant it. He lifted you. Water ran down you as he pressed you into the tile.

Afterwards, the two of you were tagged up in the sheets, skin slick with het and breathless laughter. He continued to touch you like he was still memorizing you. He dragged slow fingertips down your arm, your stomach, and across your lips.

“You’re never gettin’ rid of me now,” he murmured.

“Good,” you smiled, half-asleep. “I never want to.”

next: The First Mission >

111 notes · View notes

fluff-lover · 7 days ago

Text

Logan doesn’t ask the way other people do.

He doesn’t stumble over his words or make a grand gesture. He doesn’t rehearse a speech in his head or try to charm you with practiced lines. That’s not him. Never was.

He just waits.

Waits for the right moment, when the world goes quiet. When you’re beside him, not talking, just being. Maybe it’s after a long day, your shoes kicked off at the door, your body curled up on the couch like you always do. Maybe you’re laughing, head thrown back, sleeves pulled over your hands, and he’s watching like he always does. Like he’s memorizing it all for later. Because he is.

He doesn’t look at you when he says it. Not at first. His voice is low, rough around the edges like it always is, but there’s a softness threaded through it that only comes out when he talks to you.

“You wanna go out sometime? Just you and me.”

No nickname. No teasing. Just truth.

And when you glance up, brows raised, heart fluttering, he finally meets your eyes. Steady. Certain. There’s no smirk, no wry grin, just a look that says he’s thought about this. That he’s been thinking about this for a long time.

Logan doesn’t ask unless he means it. He doesn’t let himself want things, not often. But he wants this. You.

He shrugs a little, like it’s no big deal, like your answer won’t shake something loose in his chest.

“I remember you like that Thai place on Fifth. I figured we could go there. If you want.”

But you see it. The way his fingers curl slightly. The way his foot taps once against the floor. The tiniest tell. Because this matters.

Because you matter.

And he’s not asking just to take you out.

He’s asking because he wants to be the one who gets to.

419 notes · View notes

fluff-lover · 7 days ago

Text

Oh boy oh boy oh boy Im so excited for this one!!!

The Librarian & The Wolverine ~ The Library

THE LIBRARIAN & THE WOLVERINE MASTERLIST

Word Count: 5,125ish

Request: Logan x fem!reader. Reader is the school's/mansion's library. She's real smart, educated, knows her way around books and stuff, but is not a mutant - it's more like her power is just her being book smart lol. Logan meets her when he's sent to the library to do research for the class he'll be teaching. He spends a few days there doing his research, she helps him finds good sources for his classes, he helps her move some heavy boxes full of new books. She's a little awkward but ridiculously funny, very quiet, always has her head burried in a book. Logan's grumpy but he's funny when he wants to be, he's helpful, he's curious about her interests and thinks her being all smart like that is kinda hot. They have a crush on each other - which develops once Logan keeps coming to the library for more research and to ask for book recs for fun instead of work. They talk about books, he brings her coffee when he comes over for work, she keeps a table always clean for him in a secluded corner of the library. There's a fire at the mansion and the library is damaged, but no one gets badly injured. She's inside the library with some students, she manages to help them get out and then part of the hallway collapses and she's trapped. Logan rescues her but she inhaled a lot of smoke. Logan visits her in the infirmary and brings her a book (some classic romance novel), they make plans to go get new books for the library once reconstruction is done. They go get new books, get some coffee, set up the new library... it all feels like a big date. So Logan asks if they can do it again but now without a fire and now as an official date. She says yes, they go out, choose books for each other, lots and lots of kisses. They're the cutest couple, everyone at the mansion loves them as a couple and think they're the cutest.

Warning(s): injuries, fire

Notes: The reader does have glasses. Also, I would definitely be down with doing a part two with these two.

“Logan, if you’re going to teach history, maybe make sure you understand it all,” Storm said.

“I do understand it,” Logan huffed. “Hell, I lived through most of it.”

She shook her head. “You understand it from your point of view. You might need to head to the library to do some studying this summer before next semester.”

“Library?”

Storm laughed. “Yes, Logan. The library. It’s on the first floor, it’s like the whole right wing. We have a librarian and everything. She’s really sweet. You might even like her.”

So Logan went to the library for the first time. And that’s when he finally met you. You were sitting cross-legged behind the main desk, glasses slipping down your nose, buried in a stack of books taller than some of the students. You didn’t even notice Logan until he cleared his throat loud enough to scare the daylights out of a nearby student.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, looking up at him, glasses skewed on your face. “Sorry, uh— hi! How can I help you?”

Logan stared for a second, caught off guard by how sweet you sounded and how fast you talked. He glanced at the sign on the desk— Librarian: Miss L/N— then looked back at you. “Uh, Storm said I should do some ‘research for the history classes I’m teaching. Can you point me to those sections?”

“Of course!” You hopped up. “History would be aisles six through seven,” you started walking. “Except…”

You paused. Then you suddenly shook your head and darted into another aisle. Curious, Logan peered down the aisle to see you grab a book and come back and join him.

“Students,” you mumbled, waving the book. “They do try to test me. Anyway, history is aisles six and seven. But if you want government records, then those are eight through ten. Or there’s the good stuff— the personal accounts, diaries, things that feel like people talking instead of textbooks— I’ve got a stash in the room behind my desk.”

You stopped in aisle seven, which was labeled on the bookshelf, and slipped the book you found into place. Then you led Logan over to a corner table.

“You can do your research here,” you offered. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Then you were gone.

~~~

That night, Logan caught Storm before she headed to bed.

“Hey, ‘Ro,” he called, “how long as that, uh, librarian worked here?”

“For almost a year,” she replied. “Y/N is her name, if you didn’t ask that today. She sticks mostly to the library and isn’t included on any missions.”

“Why? What’s her powers?”

“You could just ask her, you know?”

“Storm.”

“Fine. She kinda has two powers. First, she’s a living index. She can mentally categorize and track the location of any item in her vicinity. Books, objects, even people if she focuses, but that takes a lot of energy from her. She also has something called bibliomancy. She can instantly understand and retain any written material— in any language— just by touching it. And with some focus, she can even see the emotional imprints left on historical documents. It what makes her the perfect librarian.”

Logan nodded, realizing that he had witnessed come of your power in action today.

“She would be a good resource for your lessons, Logan,” Storm said with a smirk. “Or maybe, good for you.” Then she slipped into her room.

~~~

The next day, Logan found the corner desk cleaned up and left with pencils, pens, highlighters, and various sizes of sticky notes. All neatly organized. There was also a book on the desk with a sticky note on it. He leaned over and read it.

A good place to start your research. - Y/N (the librarian)

Logan couldn’t help but form a small smirk across his lips. That’s how it all started. Logan expected to hate being in the library, but somehow you made it bearable. You weren’t pushy, just passionate and kind of ridiculous, in an endearing way. You talked fast when you got excited. You tripped over your words sometimes, apologized too much, and made strange little jokes under your breath that you didn’t think anyone heard. He heard all of them and they made him smirk when he thought about them later.

The corner desk was freshly cleaned and organized each day before he arrived. So Logan begun brining you coffee. You always took it with both hands like it was an extra special gift.

“You don’t have to do this,” you said bashfully, the third day in.

He grunted and looked away. “Didn’t want you fallin’ asleep on the Dewey Decimal System.”

That made you laugh and your laugh tugged at Logan’s heart.

~~~

Logan continued coming daily as the weeks came back. He always said it was to look for more lesson material, but deep down you knew he was coming to see you. Sometimes you’d sit with him when you had nothing else to do. You’d show him the historical documents you had and allowed him insight into your powers. One day, you started ranting about the emotion you felt in a mutant journal you had in the library. Logan simply leaned back and listened like it was the most important thing in the world.

You, in turned, noticed things about him. Like the way he held books gently, like they mattered. Especially if you’d talked about it before. Or the way he pretended to be gruff, but always checked in on those students who were staying for the summer. You caught him reading a book you recommended in the kitchen once, brows furrowed, so into it he didn’t notice you passing by. You smiled for the rest of the day.

Months went on like that, small moments mostly shared in the library. You had helped Logan create a curriculum for his class, yet he still kept coming. Not that you were going to complain. You begun recommending different books to him— not just history— and it shocked you when he read them.

Sometimes, you caught him watching you from the corner where he ‘worked’— books opened, but barely touched. You’d glance up and find him with his arms crossed over his chest, brow furrowed like he was studying you.

“You reading me or the book?” You teased.

“I’m pretty sure the book doesn’t taught when I drop a pen,” he grunted.

You ducked your head, flushed. “I was trying to laugh quietly.”

One time, you were reaching for a massive volume on the top shelf of the archives— precariously balancing on an old wooden ladder— when Logan walked in and just lifted you down without a word.

“Logan!” You yelped. “I had that!”

“Uh-huh,” he said, effortlessly grabbing the book himself. “And sone strong gust of wind would’ve had you in the infirmary.”

You crossed your arms. “You know, for someone who walks into danger for a living, you’re weirdly obsessed with safety.”

He hands you the book with a smirk. “Yeah. When it comes to you, I am.”

You forgot how to speak for a full thirty seconds.

One late evening, you dozed off at your desk— open notebook beside your hand, glasses askew. He found you like that and didn’t wake you. Instead, he took off his flannel and gently draped it over your shoulders. The next morning, you immediately noted the scent of cedar and firewood surrounding you. You kept the flannel with you for the rest of the day.

~~~

It had been a long day. The fall semester had just started and Logan had spent most of it trying to teach a room full of mutant hormonal teenagers why revolutions started. Most of them couldn’t even spell the word revolution. He was one paper cut away from quitting when he stalked into the library that afternoon. Everything immediately softened.

You were sitting at your desk, glasses low on your nose, a pencil tucked behind one ear, and a mug of some lukewarm liquid forgotten beside you. You were writing notes in a notebook with one hand while the other rested on a leather-bound journal. You looked up when you heard him and smiled.

“Rough day?” You questioned gently, noticed how tense he was.

He grunted. “Understatement.”

You nodded. “You want your table?”

Logan didn’t answer right away, you were already standing. He watched you, the way you moved— careful, graceful in that absentminded way of people who lived half their lives in their own heads.

Finally, he cleared his throat. “Yeah. Table’s good.”

You walked slightly ahead of him, not pressing him to talk. You placed a fresh copy of The Old Man and the Sea on the table like a peace offering.

“You said you liked the way Hemingway doesn’t waste time on flower language,” you said, a small smile tugging at your mouth. “This one’s short. Barely any metaphor.”

He narrowed his eyes at the book. “That code for ‘sad ending’?”

You shrugged. “That’s for you to find out.”

He sat down and you lingered, like you weren’t quite ready to part just yet. And then— out of nowhere— you dropped a little fact like you always did. Something random and useless to most people.

“Did you know Hemingway wrote the last page of this in one sitting?” You said. “He rewrote the rest almost fifty times, but that last page? He never touched it again.”

He stared at you and something clicked inside of him. It wasn’t loud or dramatic or like lightning. It was simply a quiet little truth, settling into place. He was falling for you. For your quiet voice and your messy notes. For the way you lit up talking about old books and dead authors. For your ridiculous facts and your kind eyes and your complete inability to walk past a shelf that’s not perfectly organized. Logan didn’t say anything to you, just looked back at the book.

“You do this on purpose,” he muttered.

You tilted your head. “What?”

“Make me care about this stuff. Books. Characters. History.”

You smiled. “Maybe.”

He huffed and opened the book. You didn’t walk away. You sat down near him, grabbed a different book and began reading. The two of you sat like that for almost an hour. There was no talking, just the soft turning of pages. Logan never felt more at peace. He didn’t know what this was exactly between you, but he knew he’d do whatever he could to keep it safe.

~~~

You didn’t notice at first. It happened slowly— like ink spreading across the page. You were resolving poetry books. Logan was at his usual table, pretending to read. He had one leg propped up with glasses (that you suspected were fake) perched on the bridge of his nose.

Suddenly, he held up a paperback— some beat-up crime novel you recommended— and muttered, “This guy solves a murder in 200 pages and still makes time to fall in love. What the hell am I doing wrong?”

You snorted, not even looking at him. “Being emotionally unavailable and allergic to open communication?”

You meant it as a joke, he knew that. But he still paused.

Then, quietly, he said, “I’m workin’ on that.”

And your heart— your poor, quiet, book-loving heart— did something completely stupid. It skipped. You looked up. His face was open, honest, and vulnerable. You realized that he meant it. He was trying for you.

That night, after he left,, you sat alone at your desk for a long time. You were falling for him. Not in a dramatic, sweeping way you often read about. But in the quiet and comfortable way that has built up over the months since he first stepped foot in the library. You were falling for the man who carried your books without asking. Who somehow remembered your favorite quotes. Who watched you like you were worth listening to. No one had every done any of that. And that scared you.

~~~

It started on a quiet Tuesday afternoon, a few weeks into the fall semester. The library was humming— low voices, shuffling paper, the soft thud of books. It felt safe, untouchable. You were near the back, working with a few students. One was hopelessly lost in MLA citation. Another was trying to translate Shakespeare into slang. You smiled as you juggled questions, your voice calm and steady.

Then the lights flickered. Once and then again. Everything stopped and everyone looked up. And the the fire alarms screamed. It was the kind of sound that split your bones. It was shrill and immediate and telling you that something was very wrong. The students jumped. Smoke began curling out from the air vents— thin at first, but growing fast. You smelled burning plastic, insulation and wires. It was an electrical fire. Fast, unpredictable, and deadly.

You forced your voice to stay calm even though your hands had gone cold. “We’ve practiced this,” you told the students. “Remember what we do. Single file. Stay low. Go.”

You moved quickly, but not frantically. You were steady and in control. You counted heads and kept your voice even. The students needed calm. If they saw you panic, they’d fall apart.

The smoke thickened and something cracked overhead. You heard a distant explosion, the building groaning under its own heat. Somewhere, a student shouted and another screamed.

“Go!” You urged the students. “Jamie, come on!”

But Jamie didn’t move. The boy stood frozen, near the center aisle, eyes wide with panic. Sparks flickered around his fingers— uncontrolled and crackling. He was overloaded, his mutation reacting to his fear. You needed to get the other students out.

“I’ll be back for you, Jamie!” You shouted, ushering the others towards the exit.

~~~

Logan was in the gym. His wrists were wrapped as he used the punching bag. He was trying to turn through the restless energy that never seemed to leave him. Then he heard the alarms and the screaming.

“Fire!” Someone shouted from the hallway. “In the library!”

His heart stopped. He dropped everything and ran. He didn’t wait for orders or to ask who was helping, because you were in there. And he couldn’t handle if anything happened to you.

The hallways were chaos. Smoke filled the upper floors. Students were pouring down the stairwells, coughing and crying. Teachers shouted orders. Storm shot past Logan in the opposite direction, calling for the mutant students who could help calm the flames. Logan sprinted towards the library. He turned the last corner and saw you. You were shoving the last student through the doorway, soot staining your face, with one arm held over your mouth. Your eyes met his, but you were already turning to head back in. The ceiling had already began to collapse between Logan and the library.

“Logan!” You shouted, voice ragged, smoke already eating at your lungs. “Jamie— Jamie’s still in there!”

He didn’t think or hesitate. “I’m comin’!” He yelled. “Just wait!” But you didn’t. “Y/N— damn it!”

Logan’s claws slid out with a sharp shnk, glinting through the dark. He charged in. The heat hit him like a wall. Wood burned, and the walls and ceilings buckled. He cut through his way and found you a second later, kneeling beside Jamie, trying to coax him with a shaking voice.

Logan scooped the boy up in one arm and ordered, “Go. Now!”

You nodded, stumbling after him, one hand against his back to keep balance. You were halfway to the door when it happened. The ceiling groaned. Logan stopped mid-step. A massive beam broke loose from above. Wood and plaster shattered around it. The beam crashed down between you, throwing you backwards and blocking your path to the exit. The shelves near you tipped, collapsing in a chain reaction, pinning you, one leg trapped beneath splintered shelves, the heavy support beam burning at one end.

“NO!” Logan roared.

“Logan!” You shouted, voice breaking. “I’m stuck!”

Logan shoved Jamie towards the door. “Someone get the kid!” Then he turned back and charged into the fire. He jumped over the beam and crouched beside you. “Don’t move. I’ve got you. I swear.”

You looked up at him— eyes wide and scared and full of trust. “Please… Don’t— Don’t let me die in here.”

“Never.”

Logan wrapped his arms around the beam. It was heavier than it looked and heating up with the fire. It seared his skin where it touched him, but he didn’t stop. He roared and lifted, muscles shaking. With a final, desperate yell, he threw it aside. You practically collapsed forward into him, coughing violently, body going limp in his arms.

“I got you,” he breathed, catching you. “I got you, sweetheart. You’re alright.”

And then, another crack sounded. The entire floor behind you dropped a foot with a thunderous boom. Logan didn’t think. He scooped you into his arms, turned, and leapt just as the last of the ceiling gave way. The world came down behind the two of you. He hit the ground hard, shielding you with his body as flaming debris rained across his back. Pain flared but his healing kicked in and his grip never loosened.

“Over here!” Scott yelled. “We’ve got them!”

But Logan didn’t move. He stayed on the floor, arms around you, breathing hard.

“Get me a damn stretcher!” Hank shouted.

You stirred. “Lo—Logan?” You whispered, his name barely making it past your lips.

“Yeah, baby,” he whispered roughly. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

Your hand curled weakly into his shirt before your eyes fluttered closed again, body sagging. And Logan— battered, bloody, and breathless— held you tighter.

“Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” he whispered into your hair, voice breaking. “Don’t you ever…”

They had to pry you from his arms. He followed behind the med team like a ghost— soot-streaked, jaw clenched so tight his teeth shed. His shirt was burned straight through in places, but he didn’t notice or feel it. He only saw you, laying on the stretcher, limp and unmoving.

“You said she’s breathing,” he growled at Hank once you were in the infirmary. “So why the hell won’t she wake up?”

“She inhaled a lot of smoke,” Hank told him gently. “Her body’s in shock. She just needs rest.”

But Logan couldn’t rest. Not while you were laying there with machines practically breathing for you. Not while your cardigan— the one you always wore that had ink smudges on the sleeve— was cut down the middle and tossed in a bin like it meant nothing. You were always so careful, so prepared and so calm. He should’ve gotten there faster.

~~~

Hours passed. The infirmary emptied. Students checked in, then shuffled back to bed with minor burns or bruises. The library and a few offices were the only parts damaged by the fire, thankfully. Everyone said you were a hero. That you kept your head, got the kids out, and went back for one.

Logan couldn’t hear them. He couldn’t stand the praise. Not when he had the image of you pinned until the burning ceiling like his worst damn nightmare come true. He paced outside your room like a caged animal. Then eventually, he stepped inside. You looked small in the bed, swallowed by white sheets, wires, and tubes. Not to mention, the cast on your leg from where you had been pinned. He finally sat beside you, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.

“You should’ve let me get him,” he muttered. “You should’ve run.”

No answer, just the hiss of the oxygen line. He stared at the floor.

“You weren’t supposed to be in danger,” he continued, voice cracking. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt. I was supposed to— damn it… I was supposed to protect you.” He scrubbed a hand down his face, fingers digging into his eyes. “I’ve seen a lot of bad things. I’ve seen people die. I’ve killed people. And I’ve walked away from it every time. But I saw that ceiling start to fall and I thought—“ His breath hitched. “I thought, if I don’t get to her, if she dies in front of me—“

Logan couldn’t finish his thought. He looked at you then, really looked. Your lips were parted slightly. Your brow twitched in sleep. Your chest rose and fell so faintly it made his throat close.

“I don’t know was this is,” he whispered, reaching out and gently taking your hand. “You and me. But I need it. I need you.” He swallowed hard. “I’ve lived too long and lost too much to sit here and pretend like I’m not— like you down’t matter to me. You matter so damn much.”

He gave your hand a slight squeeze before standing. He began pacing against, too raw to stay still.

“I’ve been through wars, Y/N,” he continued. “Literal wars. I don’t panic. I don’t break.” He turned towards you, eyes wild. “But when I heard you scream my name— when I saw you trapped— I didn’t feel like the Wolverine. I felt like a man who was about to lose the best damn thing in his life.”

He paused, letting the silence swallow the confession. Then, slowly, he sat beside you again, taking your hand.

“I’m not good at this,” he whispered. “But I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Your hand twitched, just barely. He froze and watched your fingers curl ever so slightly around his.

Then your lips moved, cracked and dry. “Logan?”

His head snapped up. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”

You blinked slowly, eyes hazy but warm. “I knew… you’d come…”

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles. “You’re damn right I did.”

~~~

The first few days after the fire were slow. You drifted in and out of sleep, lungs sore, throat raw, and muscles weak. Logan never left. He dozed in the corner in a chair far too small for his frame, arms crossed like he was trying not to fall apart. He read silently when you slept. Sometimes your favorite books, sometimes books you recommend him. He dog-eared the pages now, though— something you’d once jokingly told him was a criminal offense. You forgave him.

And when you stirred, no matter how late it was, his eyes opened instantly.

“You good?” He would ask, low and gravelly.

You would nod.

Then he’d pour your water, help you sit up, and tuck a blanket around your shoulders like it mattered.

~~~

It took four days before you were allowed to walk with crutches, only for a few feet. Hank suggested that you wait for a nurse.

Logan shut that down with a grunt. “I’m helping her.”

You leaned on him. You had crutches under your arms and his hand warm and steady against your back. Each step felt like a mile, but he didn’t rush you. He matched your pace without complaint, murmuring encouragement into your head like it wasn’t tearing him up to see you this fragile.

“You’re doing great, darlin’,” he murmured. “One more step. I got you.”

You did better than expected. Until you caught sight of your reflection in a hallway mirror. You paused and took yourself in. You looked like a ghost of yourself.

“I look awful,” you whispered.

Logan stepped in front of you immediately. “Hey.” You wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Hey.” He tilted your chin up with two fingers. “You look like someone who ran into a fire to save your students and lived to tell the tale. You look like someone who fought like hell. And you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in days.” You looked at him, stunned. “I’m not just sayin’ that to be nice.” You leaned into his chest then, and he held you without hesitation. “Let’s sit for a bit. You’ve earned it."

~~~

When you were strong enough to leave the infirmary, the first place you asked to go was the library. Or, what was left of it. Logan pushed your wheelchair through the blackened archway. Most of the debris had been removed. The air still smelled faintly of smoke. One half of the room was under reconstruction, while the other half was a staging area for what survived. Like your desk. It was charred at the corners, but still standing.

“I thought it would feel worse,” you whispered. “But it just makes me want to fix it.”

Logan smiled, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Then let’s fix it.”

And you did. Not all at once, but slowly and together. Logan handled the heavy lifting— shelving, building, and hammering. You directed, sorted books, and drafted up a new cataloging system from scratch. You insisted on doing it right. He insisted on carrying every single box, even when it meant trips back and forth for hours.

One day, Logan caught you trying to lift a stack of reference books by yourself.

“What did I say about heavy lifting?” He reprimanded, taking the books from you.

You pouted. “That I shouldn’t do it.”

“Exactly. Now go back to bossin’ me around like you’re good at.”

You snored and flopped into the chair he kept beside your desk just for you. “Fine. But you’re doing the labeling next.”

He groaned dramatically.

~~~

The library was almost finished. The last shelves had been installed that morning. The paint on the walls was fresh, faintly smelling of cedar and hope. Books were still waiting to be shelved— new, old, and salvaged. But tomorrow, the doors would open again. Students would come back into the space.

Logan found you sitting in the middle of the library— on the floor, back against the last bookshelf, with a half-unpacked box of hardcovers beside you. You weren’t moving. He hesitated behind a shelf at first. He took in the sight of your shoulders hunched forward, hands gripping your sleeves, face buried in your arms. Then he heart the sound, soft and shaky. You were crying. He crossed the room in three strides and knelt beside you.

“Hey. Hey—“ His voice was gentle. “Talk to me.”

You lifted you head slowly, eyes red and glassy behind your glasses. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, wiping at your face with your sleeve. “I didn’t want anyone to see—“

“Too late… what’s wrong?”

You looked around the room. At the new shelves, at your desk that Logan had fixed up, and the corner you claimed for him. “I should be happy… I got it back. We rebuilt everything. But I keep thinking about that day. About how close it was. I smell smoke in the carpet still. I still dream about the beam coming down. About not making it out.”

He was quiet for a beat and then, “You almost didn’t… I ran as fast as I could. I didn’t think or stop. Just ran. And I was still almost too late.” Another tear slipped down your cheek, and Logan caught it with his thumb before you could. “I almost lost you. And I never—“ his voice cracked, “I never told you what you mean to me.”

Your breath hitched.

“You’re the first quiet I’ve ever liked,” he continued softly. “The first calm I didn’t want to run from. I come in here and it’s like… everything in me stops trying to fight… I kept tellin’ myself I’d wait. That you needed time. That maybe I was imagining it. But then I saw you lying there and I realized…” he swallowed. “I love you.”

You stared at him, eyes wide. “I love you too.” Logan froze. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had. It was so good— safe. But every time you walked in with a drink or fixed a shelf without being asked or quote Jane Austen just to make me smile—“ you laughed, “I fell a little more.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding that breath since the fire. And then he pulled you in. It wasn’t rushed or desperate, just home. His arms wrapped around you, anchoring you in the silence, and you melted into him, face tucked under his chin. He kissed your temple, then your cheek, and then your lips. It was a soft, slow kiss, full of everything you’d both been too scared to say.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered against your lips. “Always.”

You nodded, arms tightening around his waist. “And I’ve got you.”

~~~

The next morning, you stood at the front desk, one hand wrapped around a still-steaming mug of coffee (from Logan, of course), the other smoothing down the table displays you’d been arranging since sunrise. A small vase of fresh flowers sat in the center, also from Logan though he hadn’t admitted it out loud. Just grunted and muttered something about ‘color’ before setting it down.

Logan came back just after seven, leaning in the doorway with a lopsided grin and another coffee in hand.

“You open yet?” He asked.

You smiled. “Always. At least for you.”

He strode over and set his coffee down, then pulled you gently into his arms. His hands curled agains your back, grounding. You leaned into his chest and closed your eyes. You breathing him in.

“Feels different,” you murmured.

“It is,” he said. “You’re mine now.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckled. “Took us long enough.”

~~~

The first few kids trickled in quietly. They looked around with reverence, whispering to each other about how it didn’t even smell like smoke anymore. Then came the regulars. Jamie was the first to say it. He paused in front o your desk and stared at Logan, who was pretending to organize the display table but was actually hanging around way too casually.

“Are you two, like, together now?” Jamie questioned.

You froze, but Logan didn’t flinch.

You cleared your throat. “Jamie—“

“Because if you are, that’s awesome,” Jamie grinned. “You guys were, like, a slow burn romance novel. Everyone knew. You just didn’t.”

Logan gave a small shrug. “Told you we weren’t subtle,” he muttered under his breath.

Jame waved a few other kids over. “Guys! It happened! They’re official!”

Soon, a small crowd of amused, excited students gathered around the front desk. They whispered, giggled, and pointed between the two of you like it was the best gossip of the year. You buried you face in your hands while Logan just crossed his arms and smirked.

“Alright,” he said gruffly, but not unkind. “You got ten more seconds to gawk before I assign everyone a ten-page paper on 20th-century revolutions.”

Groans echoed immediately before they scattered in seconds.

You blinked at him. “You wouldn’t actually—“

“I might,” he shrugged. “But they’re right.”

“About what?”

He reached over and pulled you into him. “You and me? Best damn slow burn I’ve ever read.”

The Love >

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