#anonymous request | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skzdarlings · 1 year ago

Note

omg that sounds so fun!!!! (Sorry if this was quick I have your post notifs on) imma jump on this early!!! can we get “do you really think you’re in a position to give orders?” W changbin? 😩😩😩

summary: you are in love with the son of your family's greatest enemy. he sneaks into your room one night after a party.

pairing: seo changbin/reader content info: petite!reader. mentions of past body insecurities. romeo-and-juliet style love affair. sneaking around. gun play that is somehow more romantic than kinky but still kinda kinky. explicit sexual content. word count: 2900 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

You catch his eye across the room.

There are a hundred people between you, bustling in their designer gowns and glittering in their jewels. The hotel ballroom is an incandescent chamber of silver light. The sun has long since set but the party plays on in its excessive splendour, never tiring of itself.

You are tired of it. The glamour of this lifestyle has turned more tedious than not. At the centre of all this majesty is money, and everyone in this room prioritizes their wealth and capital above everything else. They have fought and slandered and killed each other and they will do it all again, but they throw their galas nonetheless. Places to celebrate themselves and their so-called achievements, to flaunt their successes in self-congratulation. Everyone laughs and dances, spinning around the ballroom, sipping their champagne.

You smile and demur, pretending you are having a good time. You sit with your family and only interact with their trusted allies or those who would be.

He is vehemently not included in that.

Seo Changbin.

He is across the room with his family, your family’s greatest enemy. Your father and his father are titans of business and the family rivalry spans generations. It started with your great-grandparents and you are destined to uphold it. You will marry an appropriate man of standing, someone who will expand the empire, someone whose allyship is worthwhile in both the monetary and social strata. You will have children and raise them to take your place, to inherit your name and all the blood and money that comes with it.

Those same expectations are on your enemy. You hold gazes across the sparkling sea of people. You look away first.

You are coerced onto the dance floor by one of your father’s chosen men. You join that sparkling sea. It is always bizarre to brush elbows with these people, knowing very well they would not hesitate to put a bullet in your head under any other circumstance. You catch the sight of a few discreet weapons as you are twirled around the dance floor. Ostensibly, weapons are not allowed inside the gala as fighting is prohibited, but these people always take their precautions.

Your dance partner spins you. You twirl as per the dance, then stumble to a halt because Changbin is standing there. He is dancing with someone too, has them spun out the opposite way. You stand in the middle of the ballroom looking at each other, faces equally stoic.

He is dressed in all black, austere and intimidating. His black hair falls in a sweep across his forehead, just this side of too-long so it obscures his eyes if he tilts his head a certain way. He is always so meticulously hidden in public, nothing but a walking shadow. He is a dark reflection of his family and their grim reputation.

But his jovial laughter is in your mind, his witty quips, his jokester nature. He is devastatingly charming and endlessly humorous.

You would never know just looking at him. Changbin is not the tallest man in the room but he more than compensates with his bulk and power. Pretty much anyone would be big next to you, but you know what your hand looks like when laid against his, how all encompassing the breadth of his big arms feel when they wrap around you.

He does not touch you. He looks. He smirks, like he knows your heart is racing. Then he spins away. Your partner pulls you back.

The dance continues.

You say you are sick and leave the party early. You are escorted back to the house with your usual security flank, sitting in the backseat of your limo with a guard on either side of you. They wear bulletproof gear under their uniform, matching pale blue in the family’s colours, and wearing bulky glasses to shield their eyes. They are all armed to teeth, wearing their holsters and belts. They dwarf you almost comically. They do not speak to you.

When you reach the house, you go straight to your bedrooms. You have three rooms to yourself, each lonely space spilling into the next. You dress in your closet, leaving the gown pooled in a silk mess on the floor. You discard your jewelry and amble to your main room in a satin nightdress and robe.

You almost miss it, the sound so faint, but you swear a gentle knocking comes from your balcony doors. They are still sealed shut. Security did not notice anything remiss upon arrival, but there is a blind spot in the security camera on your balcony. There are no cameras inside your room for privacy purposes. But no one would know that unless you told them.

And you have only told one person.

You approach the balcony doors, wary. You peer into the night, eyes roving the grand expanse of the brightly lit garden and swimming pool. Wind rustles through the leaves of the trees and a security guard is finishing his round.

You step onto your balcony slowly. The security guard can only see you when you lean over. He waves at you before leaving the yard, continuing the rest of his patrol elsewhere. You watch him go.

The world is quiet as it ever is. You can hear the buzz of the pool lights and the tinkling of your wind chimes, little else. You lean against your balcony railing and look over the yard. You weigh the luxury of the estate against its cost. Not for the first time, you ruminate on how it is absolutely not worth it.

You sigh and turn. Then you freeze at what, who, you find.

You mistake him for a security guard for half a second, which nearly gives you a heart attack because they are never on your balcony. But he is just wearing one of their uniforms. You are not sure when he stole it, tonight or previously.

Seo Changbin stands there in the blue uniform shirt and gun holster, winking at you behind bulky glasses. He is pressed against the wall in the solitary blind spot, nodding his head to your balcony door. If you open it a little wider, he can sneak in undetected.

Like he has done a dozen times before.

You feign nonchalance for the camera, humming to yourself as you step into your bedroom. You push your door open all the way, positioning yourself in distracting view of the lens while he sneaks inside. Then you follow and slam the door shut. You both take a curtain and draw them together, meeting in the middle.

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say. It is not what you want to say. You want to say, thank god you are here. I missed you so much. But that is an utterly foolish proclamation. You know better. You have always known better.

But the son of your family’s greatest enemy is standing in your bedroom anyway. He looks at you, at where you clutch your robe, at where you wet your lips. He removes the glasses and tosses them aside, as if to study you more closely.

“I shouldn’t,” he says. You cannot tell if it is an agreement or a question.

“No, you shouldn’t,” you say. You take a step back, because every second in his proximity only compels you closer. It is surer than a planet caught in a gravitational pull, threatened to be shattered by the sheer cosmic power of the star holding it in orbit.

He steps with you. When you take another step, he follows. Back and back and back. He feels big in this space. Even though your room is massive, his presence shadows your little world. When your back hits the wall and he looms in front of you, he is all you can see. Nothing else exists beyond him.

“Changbin, we shouldn’t be doing this,” you say, though you know it is useless to protest your liaison with any logic, because this is a matter of the heart and not mind. That rebellious heart of yours beats faster. “If anyone found you here… we’d both be in so much trouble.”

“I won’t let them hurt you,” he says. He speaks with such easy confidence, like it is a matter of fact and not hope. He says it so certainly that you almost believe him.

“You can’t promise that,” you say.

“Yah, shame on you,” he teases. “You know I always keep my word.”

It is true. Though Changbin has a formidable reputation, it has little basis in actuality. He is a man of strong moral principle. He does not like the fighting and brawling and warring. He does not hurt innocent people, nor does he put civilians at risk for the sake of a stupid business.

And he has treated you with more loving respect than anyone else in your life.

Of course you surrender to him, again and again, sighing now as you lean against the wall and release your robe. It falls open and reveals your little nightdress. His gaze dives down your body, igniting sparks inside you. You were once insecure about your appearance, taking to heart your mother’s admonishments, that you were scrawny and gaunt, nothing but a burden as they struggled to find a match for you.

It is no struggle for Changbin. He curses even though he has seen you a dozen times. He holds your hips, then runs his strong hands up your body so you shiver all over. He cups the back of your head and draws you close, like he intends to kiss you. You are ready for it, eyelids heavy and lips parting.

With his other hand, he reaches for his chest holster. You blink as he slowly draws the gun, as he brings it closer to you. It feels like your whole body turns to liquid heat, heart thundering as he rests the barrel so delicately against your temple.

“See, baby,” he says, “if they find us, they’ll blame me. What was a little thing like you supposed to do, ah? Fight me?”

You are breathing harder, already so hot with anticipation. You gasp when he tugs you closer still, the gun still tapping your temple.

His lips are so close to yours, they almost touch.

“Poor baby,” he says. “She’s so good to her family. It’s not her fault Seo Changbin climbed in her window and fucked her in her little nightdress.” He moves the gun, making your breath catch again. The barrel touches your lips then moves down, down. It brushes a sensitive nipple, then moves lower still. The cool metal brushes your inner thigh under your nightdress and your knees starting shaking, a delicious heat twisting in your belly. “Tsk, tsk,” he says. “No panties. Maybe it’s not my fault completely.”

“We really shouldn’t do this,” you say, but it is still not what you want to say. I want you, I need you, so so badly.

He smiles and lifts the gun again, all the way up to your mouth where he taps your lips.

“Do you really think you’re in a position to give orders?” he asks.

It is so funny; Changbin is holding a gun to your lips but you feel more safe than dancing among those people at the party. You trust him so completely, so irrevocably, that you do not feel truly threatened for even a moment. There is something so liberating and joyous in allowing your body to go completely lax, in forgetting all your many grievances for the short but blissful time you have with him. Your heart is so full you could burst.

You kiss the tip of the gun, then smile.

“Well,” you say. “What are you waiting for?”

He tosses the gun onto the bed so he can hold you with both hands when he kisses you. You moan against his lips. His searching hands are careful where he touches you, squeezing and loving. He cups the small curve of your breast in his palm, rubs there until electric desire shoots to every extremity.

You shrug your robe off and he wastes no time gathering you into his arms. He holds you so securely, picking you up with no effort at all. Then you are pressed against the wall with him pressed against you.

“Yes, yes,” you say, gasping, as he kisses down your neck. He hikes you higher, catching you effortlessly, guiding your legs around him as he kisses down to your breasts. He wraps his lips around a nipple through your dress, making you clench your thighs around him, which makes him giggle like the maniacal tease he is.

“You like that,” he says, and tugs your dress down to get his mouth on you properly. He is so good with his tongue. You feel a little giddy, thinking to yourself that it is his true weapon. Fast, precise, teasing you and working you until you are tugging at his head and grinding against him.

“I need you,” you say, breathlessly, “Changbin, Changbin—”

You seldom take your time, given the danger of the situation. With the house empty and both your families occupied, you have time tonight to go a little slower, but you simply cannot wait. You are both accustomed to instant satisfaction when together. Your body feels wrong without him inside it. You need him like a breath of air.

“Please,” you say.

You do not have to beg much. He fiddles with his belt and his zip, then he repositions you. You cover your mouth to catch your squeal when he pushes inside you. He moans into your neck to stifle his own sounds.

“Baby, so good for me,” he murmurs, sounding intoxicated from the silky feel of you, wrapped around him so completely.

You know the feeling. You are incapable of forming sentences, clinging to him desperately as he fucks you steadily against the wall. He holds you with just one arm, the other palm planted flat to the wall, near your head. You clutch his big bicep while your other hand sinks in the hair at his nape. You fuck until he is close, when he carries you to the bed and lays you out.

You lean forward and take him in your mouth, sucking him down until he comes. He bites his wrist to keep his volume down.

You wipe your lips, smiling. Then you sprawl back on the bed, nightdress turned to little more than a sash around your middle. You slide it off completely. Even though he just came, he is already looking you with hungry eyes. He puts a knee on the bed, evidently ready to pounce.

You pick up the gun and point it at him, quirking a playful eyebrow. He blinks at you, surprised, then smiles as well.

“Baby,” he says. “That wasn’t the plan.”

“Do you really think you’re in a position to give orders?” you reply.

It just makes him laugh. The sound makes your heart gush with sentiment. He looks so handsome and sweet, hair pushed back, a light sheen of sweat on his neck. He is still mostly dressed, tucked back into his pants, but they are open and slung low, his shirt all untucked.

He gazes at you with deep, dark eyes, nothing but affection on his face. He plays your game and strips his shirt off, then he crawls across the bed until he is close enough for you to rest the barrel of the gun against his temple.

“Go on,” you say, nodding.

Truly, his tongue is the greater weapon. The gun does not stand a chance, falling out of your hand, forgotten, as he descends between your legs. You feather his hair through your fingers, then dig into his scalp, riding the motion of his mouth as he licks and sucks and kisses you down there. You come with a shivering sigh, your legs shaking.

He lifts his head and wiggles his eyebrows. “Good?” he asks, to which you can only nod. “Ha-ha,” he says, lightly slapping your thigh. “Of course it was. It’s me.”

You laugh, shaking your head and playfully rolling your eyes.

“You are incorrigible,” you say.

He climbs up your body and kisses you on the lips, tasting of you. It makes you whimper, delighted.

“I think you meant to say incredible,” he teases. “That’s okay, I understood you anyway.”

“I’m sure you did,” you say. Because there is a great deal of truth in that statement. You and him are on opposite sides of this ridiculous feud, but you are in exactly the same place. No one understands you better than him.

That understanding is written all over his face. He smiles tenderly, cupping your cheek in his hand. His next kiss is the definition of romance itself, sweet and long, enough to make you swoon.

“How much time do you think we have?” you ask.

“Not much,” he answers, then kisses you again. “Don’t think about it now. It’s okay, baby. I got you.”

“I know,” you say. You wrap your arms around each other and hold tight, kissing again while you can. The truth is, neither of you is in any position to dictate your fate. But he kisses you like that does not matter, with no past and no tomorrow on the horizon. You take control of this moment and consider it a happy ending for as long as you can.

#seo changbin x reader #changbin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #changbin x you #changbin smut #seo changbin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x you #valentinesdaystories #anonymous request

699 notes · View notes

lacoffeeaddict · 9 months ago

Note

I'm begging you, PLEASEE draw pc scott

AAAAAAA YEYAYAYAYA SCOTTTT SOMEONE FINALLY ASKED MMEMEEEEMEM TO DRAW THIS SILLYYY

AAAUGHHSJHSHKA HERE IS SCOTTTT I LOVE HIMMMMMM SM

THANK U FOR THE REQUEST !!! <3

#silly #art #fanart #south park #south park fanart #south park art #south park post covid #post covid #scott malkinson #south park scott #sp scott malkinson #anonymous request

187 notes · View notes

ninathekillxr · 1 month ago

Note

Can you do Toby x EJ headcanons?

Yes I sure can!

• Definitely yapper x listener duo with Toby yapping and jack listening.

• Jack constantly pesters Toby about wounds that Toby hadn’t even noticed he had. He will spend hours disinfecting wounds and trying to keep Toby from injuring themself.

• Toby explains things to jack that they don’t understand, being a demon and all.

• Probably the least toxic relationship in the manor.

• Toby treats Jack a bit like an oversized puppy. Gently scratching jacks head as if petting a dog.

• When toby is out on missions he will take the kidneys from his victims to bring back for jack.

• Jack is very greatful for Toby.

• Toby is the jealous one in the relationship. Getting annoyed when jack talks to someone else for too long.

• Jack reassures Toby constantly.

• Jack is extremely patient with Toby especially when they are struggling with their bpd.

• Toby definitely have one of his kidneys to jack…

“Do you want one of my kidneys?”

“What…?”

• Jack is paranoid asf about hurting Toby accidentally. Even though Toby wouldn’t be able to feel it Jack still worries.

Nina’s comments~

I’m definitely gonna do more things like this because it’s super fun!

Nina out!

73 notes · View notes

halfmoonshines · 10 months ago

Note

Hello! I saw that you write for TVD so I wonder if I can get a Damon x witch!poc fem reader, in which she, deferential to everyone who only expects the worst from him, sees something good in him, which is why she always chooses him and defends him (only Damon receiving all the love and care he deserves) please? With lots of fluffy and angst

thank you <333

deserving

damon salvatore x witch!poc fem reader

summary; you were not blind to everyone's aggression and faults, so why was everyone blind to everything but Damon's?

a note that this is not set anywhere specific in timeline - alsooo... minor Elena hate? She's such a villain to me.

●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●

The living room of the boarding house had been destroyed, couch flipped and table turned to scrap by Stefan's outburst. He had stormed out quickly afterward, but not before telling both Elena and Damon that they had made him this way.

You stood near the entrance to the room, the magic in your veins humming as it begged to be released on the retreating, erratic vampire. He had been binging on human blood for so long now, you weren't sure he would ever go back to the mild mannered man you had first met all those years ago. No matter what scheme Elena and Damon concocted in their desperate attempt to save him.

"This is all your fault." Elena's voice wavered, but it was full of venom. Your eyes snapped to find her but she was locked on the eldest Salvatore. "You did this to him."

Damon shook his head, confusion marring his face. "Elena, you know that I've been trying-"

"If you had just cleaned up your act a bit sooner, Damon!" She was angrily gathering her things now, getting ready to storm out after her equally as volatile ex. "He wouldn't be this way if you hadn't influenced him."

Your eyes were only on Damon then, you could see the tell-tale clench of his jaw from across the room. The way his fingers flexed. He was upset, because he cared, but he would lash out because he didn't know how else to stand up for himself.

"That's not very fair, Elena. Stefan is his own person. Damon didn't make him do anything." Your voice was firm as you took the single step down into the living room, inching closer to Damon. Trying to let him know he wasn't alone.

Elena's eyes narrowed, a disbelieving smile gracing her face. "Are you really defending him right now?"

"Yes." No hesitation. "I am." You could feel his gaze burning a hole in your back while you stood like a human shield between him and the Gilbert. "I understand you're upset, we're all worried about Stefan. But it isn't fair to blame everything on Damon."

Her scoff would bother you for the next week. "Whatever you say." And with that she left.

The nervousness was settling in your chest when you finally turned to Damon, offering him a small smile. "Sorry about that."

His eyes searched yours for just a second before he turned around and walked upstairs silently.

●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●

"Damon, you're bleeding." You noticed the blood literally pouring from his abdomen when he peeled himself away from you, having shielded you from the explosion that just rocked the gym of the high school. You vaguely noticed your friends pulling themselves to their feet around you, Caroline and Stefan arguing with each other over something. You didn't notice Elena storming over.

Everyone else's yelling voices faded away when you looked up to meet his gaze, noticing his eyes flickering over your dark skin, checking you for any injuries of your own.

You reached a hand out to heal him. You knew he would heal eventually, but it was the least you could do since he most definitely got injured shielding you. You didn't know what was going on with you and Damon lately, but just the thought of him bleeding made you nauseous.

Before your hand could make contact he was yanked away from you, a barely perceptible wince coming from him at the movement. You were angry before you even decided to be.

"How could you not warn us?" Elena's voice was shrill against the pounding in your head from the boom that happened moments ago. You couldn't help but noticed she didn't have a scratch on her but didn't hesitate to hit Damon right in the chest.

"Elena." You stepped forward to wedge yourself between them, not wanting Damon to take the matter into his own hands but not allowing Elena to put a hand on him. Vampire or not.

Everyone was staring now.

"No! Don't Elena me. He full knew that this group of vampires had ex military with them. A warning about potential bombs would have been nice!"

You tried hard to put a cap on your frustration. "Why would he willingly walk into somewhere that could blow him to pieces? Pretty sure there's no coming back from that. Even for a vampire."

Elena seemed to debate her reply for a moment, gaze going from the rigid vampire behind you to your own eyes. "One day, he's going to hurt you so bad, you won't care about his feelings anymore." She left with that, Stefan and Caroline in tow. Caroline was the only one who cast a haphazard glance back at you.

"Thank you." His voice was quiet, and your shock was loud.

"Of course."

●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●

"Can you believe him?" You winced as Elena's angry voice sounded after the slam of the front door. You and Caroline had beat her to her own home after the showdown at the grill, hoping to clean up the broken glass you knew was waiting for her.

"I mean, what else do we expect?" Bonnie's reply was sardonic when they both rounded the corner, spying the other women in the kitchen.

"Damon is the most selfish, disgusting idiot that I have ever had the misfortune of knowing." Elena's tone was final as she slammed her purse down on the kitchen counter, pulling up one of the stools to plop into.

You tried to ignore that angry twinge that always started in your chest whenever people set their crosshairs on the older Salvatore. He seemed to be everyone's resident punching bag, despite the recent uncovered issues Stefan also harbored.

"I still say we should get rid of him." Caroline sounded chipper at the idea she presented, ready to have his head on a pike.

That was most definitely all that you could take. The glass you had been cleaning was roughly thrown into the trash can. "So we're going to get rid of Stefan too, right? Cut out the evil right at its root. Maybe Tyler too."

Her friends looked taken aback, each ones eyebrows pulling together while they stole glances at each other.

"Are you okay?" Bonnie was hesitant in her question, her caramel colored eyes focusing on your own.

"I'm fine, Bon. But it doesn't seem like you guys are. For the last year, all I have heard is how Damon is the bane of everyone's existence. How he's evil. How is what happened tonight his fault? Do you blame him for trying to save his mother? You surely wouldn't fault Stefan for doing the same. How can you make him the villain if you wouldn't hesitate to do what he does? If you were put in the same position?" You gripped the kitchen counter, willing your magic to calm from the swirling mess inside of your stomach.

"You can't mean that. He's done terrible things." Elena argued, arms crossing over her chest.

"So have you. So have I. But he's also done amazing things, Elena. He's sacrificed himself time and time again to try and win some kind of favor with you people but you've done nothing but take him for granted, and then demonize him even more when he dares to let your treatment of him hurt his feelings." By the end of your statement, you had your purse hanging off your arm and you were shoving past Bonnie to get out the door.

"Where the hell are you going?" Caroline questioned.

"To go make sure Damon's okay."

●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●

You were pretty sure you knew where you were going to find him. Since The Grill was out of commission due to the commotion early in the night, he was definitely drinking at home. That's where you came upon him, sprawled out on the couch in the living room of his home, tumbler of amber liquid dangling from his fingers.

"Shouldn't you be plotting my demise with the Scooby Gang?" The defeat in his voice nearly made you halt, a sadness pulling at the back of your eyes. This man had no venom to him, only defeat.

You came around the couch and gently moved his legs to the ground, taking the seat you just cleared. Those clever blue eyes tracked your movements, something foreign shaded in them.

"I know you don't usually want to, but do you want to talk about tonight? It wasn't an easy decision to make, Damon." You tried to sound understanding without being placating, fearing him holding up behind those walls he so loved to build.

"It wasn't a difficult decision. She had to die. So she did." You would've believed his cold mask if you hadn't heard the cracking in his voice.

You sighed a bit, daring to reach a hand out to rest on his knee. His gaze snapped to yours quickly, hardening slowly like water in winter. "You don't deserve to feel like the villain, Damon. You're put in impossible positions to make terrible decisions, and then shunned for them. Please don't let their hatefulness make you feel any less than you are."

You thought he was going to quip back at you at first, a sardonic smirk on his face - but it dropped quickly, and his voice was almost a breath when he asked his question. "Why do you keep defending me?"

A million answers floated through your mind, because there were so many. But you felt like there was only one that would suffice right now. "Because I care about you."

His lips found yours quickly, fitting together like the last pieces of a puzzle.

●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●●～●～●～●～●

#damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore #tvd #tvd verse #the vampire diaries #vampire diaires #damon salvatore x fem!reader #damon salvatore x witch!poc reader #anonymous request #tvd fanfiction #damon salvatore fanfiction #my wor #my works #damon salvatore x female reader

258 notes · View notes

vintageflowerangel · 1 year ago

Text

Poly! Relationship with CHUUYA NAKAHARA and PM! DAZAI OSAMU

♡ A relationship between the two is just pure chaotic... You have two boys fighting over you all the time, a hot head, and a suicidal boy. (Tug of war wow-)

♡ There's always back and forth arguments and bringing you in the middle of them just to see who's right or who's dumber than the other.

♡ Arcade dates are a must in the relationship. The three of you have a little bet that whoever loses the most has to pay for dinner, and it's either you and Chuuya who lose because Dazai always jacks up the games to win. If you lose, don't worry! Chuuya will offer to pay so you won't have to spend your money. (He'll threaten Dazai that he won't pay for his meal but still pays either way.)

♡ They're both really possessive over you. Sometimes, it can be overbearing, but they're just overprotective (it's mostly because they're jealous), not appreciating the way people glance at you out of interest or people talking to you like friends as an example.

♡ There is no serious fighting in the relationship. It's mostly for fun and games, but if anything serious happens, they'd comfort you or give you some space, whatever you prefer.

Date: 4/13/2024

#bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #headcanons #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuya nakahara x reader #dazai osamu x reader #pm! dazai osamu x reader #anonymous request #requested

171 notes · View notes

romanticsleep · 4 months ago

Note

HELLOO!!!! can I request for a shadow(and any other characters you’d like to put!) x reader where reader has anger issues and tends to get a bit violent when they’re angry?

ALSO I LOVE UR SONIC JEALOUSY HEADCANONS SM THEY WERE SO GOOD😭😭

thank you sm!!! i hope you enjoy!!!

Issues

┊➤ 𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐲; 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐆

┊➤ 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭; 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖

┊➤ 𝐰��𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬; 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭(?)

shadow would most likely understand your anger issues, especially with the fact that he too has problems controlling his anger. so whenever you’d snap at him unintentionally, he’d try to not let his anger leak out. although, during the beginning of your relationship, it would cause some problems from time to time, leading to arguments between the two of you.

since shadow’s not so good with showing his emotions right off the bat, he probably wouldn’t apologize first. it’d start off with you two giving each other the cold shoulder, even if you were to live under the same roof. you guys wouldn’t lay in the same bed, and if you did you two would completely avoid facing each other(but somehow still ended up in each other arms in the morning). eventually, shadow couldn’t help but start to miss you. sure you guys still saw each other almost every second of the day, but it was different when he wasn’t able to hear your voice that he loves so dearly. so, after just one day, he’d throw in the towel and apologize. and really, all you wanted from him was an apology and some comfort, so you forgave him without hesitation, apologizing yourself too. which shadow immediately shot down and reassured you that it wasn’t your fault. after all, you’re you, and he loves everything about you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

that night, the two of you were facing away from each other while laying on your shared bed. the argument from yesterday still present in both of your heads.

with an inaudible sigh, you shut your eyes, trying your hardest to fall asleep, to not let the tears fall. you couldn’t help but think that it was your fault you two was in this predicament.

“…i’m sorry.”

your ears immediately perked.

“what?”

you could hear him let out the slightest “tch”, but you could tell it was only out of embarrassment.

shadow turned around to face you.

“i said…im sorry, i shouldn’t have snapped back at you.” shadow told you, even in the dark you could make out the red tint on his muzzle. it was cute seeing him embarrassed honestly.

“then i’m sorry too-”

but he immediately cut you off. no way was he going to let you apologize for something you couldn’t control.

“no, no, there’s no need for you to apologize…just-just let do the apologizing…please.”

the black hedgehog spoke out in slight mumbles, making eye contact for just a second before breaking it.

with a small smile on your face, you opened your arms a bit, the covers that’s over you two lifting up slightly.

without hesitation, shadow crawled into your arms, making himself comfortable as your arms wrapped around him, his head laying comfortably on your chest.

gently petting his quills, you sighed in content, you missed this.

“i love you.”

you heard from the hedgehog, making your smile grow wider.

“i love you too.”

┊𝐄𝐍𝐃

#shadow x reader #shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #sonic #sonic post #fanfic #headcanon #YIPPIEEEEE #request #anonymous request #x reader #character x reader

185 notes · View notes

realtimefanduboutofcontext · 3 months ago

Note

I’m gonna need a clip of “count how many sand is here, omega”

Bonus points if you include “count how many mouths he has”

cinematic parallels: SnapCube's Real-Time Fandub, "Sonic the Hedgehog (2006)"

219 notes · View notes

thatonesonicfanfictionwriter · 2 months ago

Note

I love all the stuff you wrote I just have to say agagagagaag!!!

—

Was wondering if you could do a Sonic x Singer/idol Reader?

What I’m imagining is Reader while performing actually in some way hides how they look on stage, so their in real life self doesn’t get swarmed! But…They’re friends with Sonic and the gang and they keep it secret from them? But when Amy maybe offers them all tickets to readers show reader has to do the whole- running one place to another before making an excuse to get on stage. But imagine Sonic notices the odd behaviour…

And imagine that after he’s now kinda trying to wonder why they’ve been acting off. So they end up spending more time together and getting closer and closer, mostly sonic probably hanging with them because oh idk…he thinks that reader might be a spy for some bad guy! But no they’re not.

Queue the classic they’re both having crushes but don’t want to admit it (mostly sonic) and it leads to them sort of not hanging out as much…but then reader one time decides that their next show they’re going to basically confess in their next song. To him. I imagine sonic “mysteriously” gains tickets XD. But while singing and stuff…reader reveals that it’s them but maybe they get nervous and end up running off stage and Sonic runs back stage to find them… and they both confessss???

—

Wow that’s a lot sorry! But agagaga i love your writing!

“The Ultimate Confession”

Pairing: Sonic the Hedgehog x Singer/Idol Reader

Requested: Yes (by a very sweet anon!)

Description: Keeping your double life a secret was very difficult. You know what else was more difficult? Keeping your crush on Sonic a secret until the right moment.

Notes: Thank you for all of your kind words, anon! And I’m sorry I took so long to get your request done! I hope this does it justice!

(Reader will be gender-neutral.)

– – – – – – – – – – – –

“[Name]! [Name]! Will you go to [Stage Name]’s performance with Shadow and I, pleeeease?” you hear your friend, Amy Rose, ask.

“C’mon, Amy, you know performances aren’t my thing…” you say, rubbing the back of your neck.

“Oh come on! Just once?!” Amy asks. “For your bestieeee?”

Amy gives you her signature puppy dog eyes.

“…Sorry, Amy. It’s still a ‘no’,” you tell her.

“Hmph! Fine! Then I’ll bring Sonic with me!” Amy states.

“Sorry Ames! I’m busy that day!” Sonic yells from across the room.

“Busy doing what?!” Amy asks. “And how did you know what day it was?!”

“Busy kicking Egghead’s butt! Duh!” Sonic states. “He always attacks on the weekends.”

“He has a point,” you state.

“Fine! I’ll invite Cream then,” Amy says with a small pout.

“C’mon, Amy, don’t be like that,” you say. “I’ll take you to the mall some other day as an apology if you want.”

“Okay! That works for me!” Amy says, her demeanor instantly changing.

You sigh internally out of relief. That was a close one…

Your phone buzzes out of the blue, and picking it up reveals that your boss is calling you.

“Ah, one sec guys. I gotta take a call,” you say.

You walk out of the room, closing the door behind you. Your friends watch you leave curiously.

“That’s odd, [Name] never gets calls,” Amy mentions.

“There’s a first time for everything, hun,” Rouge states. “Try not to dwell on it.”

About a week or so goes by, and you’ve been busier than ever. A lot of signings, having to make cameos at places, taking Amy to the mall like you promised, and not to mention having to make a costume for this next show.

But it’ll be worth it.

At least, you hope it’ll be worth it.

You see…you have a massive crush on Sonic.

You have no clue if he likes you back.

I mean, to him, you’re just one of his friends that helps him beat Eggman from time to time!

But to anyone that’s not your friend?

You’re an idol.

So…maybe you sent Sonic and your friends free tickets…

So what?

So what if you were busy at the studio getting ready all day and couldn’t see them?

It was fine by you!

You hear the murmurs of the people in the audience, luckily hearing Sonic’s voice in the audience.

Okay. Go through with the show, then reveal yourself and confess.

You’ve got this.

Putting on the final piece of your costume, you head off onto the stage, waving as everyone cheers.

You tap on the microphone, making sure it works.

“Hello everyone!” you say.

“HELLO, [STAGE NAME]!” everyone yells back.

“Now, before we start, I ask everyone to stay until the end for a special message!” you state. “Now let’s get on with the show!”

…

Well, for what it’s worth, the show went well.

But when it came to the confession…

Hoo, boy.

“Thank you for coming to the show, everyone! But before you leave, I have one last announcement,” you say. “It goes out to our hero of Mobius, Sonic, who I’m glad came tonight.”

You notice Sonic in the crowd, and he seems surprised as peoples’ gazes fall on him.

You remove your mask, and almost everyone in the audience gasps.

“I like you, Sonic. And I’m sorry I kept this a secret for so long,” you state.

The crowd goes quiet, which is a first for your shows, and you all of a sudden feel nervous.

“W-Well- Thanks for coming, haveagoodnightbye!” you rush out, running backstage.

Gaia, that was embarrassing! Why did you do that?!

“[Stage Name],” you hear one of your bodyguards say. “Someone requested to see you.”

Looking behind you, you see Sonic next to your bodyguard, a sheepish grin on his face as he waves at you.

“Request accepted,” you say.

The bodyguard bows and leaves, leaving you and Sonic backstage.

Neither of you say anything for a moment.

“…So, you like me, huh?” Sonic asks.

“…Yeah. I do,” you say.

“For what it’s worth, I like you too,” Sonic says.

“I- really?” you ask.

Sonic lets out a ‘snrk’, chuckling a bit.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“It’s just- Heh. Here we thought you could’ve been working for Eggy, and here you are, as one of our favorite idols,” Sonic says. “That and your reaction.”

You also let off a chuckle.

“You doofus…” you say fondly.

“Yeah, but I’m your doofus,” Sonic says.

#sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic fanfiction #sonic characters x reader #sonic character x reader #x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic x reader #tosffw writes #requested oneshot #requested #anonymous request

40 notes · View notes

screwpinecaprice · 2 years ago

Text

Tuesday: Shopping

They got the same dress!

Personal connverse week for an anonymous Ko-fi tipper! (That's a simple-looking dress but I like it very much. :3 )

Prompts, ideas, and polaroid border effect also by anon.

#You either wear that dress or Wear That Dress 💅✨#Took me a bit to choose a color and a shade that will look good or at least alright on both their skin tones.#connverse #Steven Quartz Universe #Connie Maheswaran #SU #Ko-fi #Ko-fi request #anonymous request #anon

705 notes · View notes

writerlyhabits · 2 years ago

Text

Ration Packs

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: based on this request...

“I’m guessing it’ll be ration packs for dinner?” you added, nodding towards the empty satchel hanging from his hip. “There wasn’t a market on the way back to the ship,” he almost pleaded, trying to explain his intentions, but you simply gave him a tight-lipped nod in acknowledgment. “I’ll get the packs started so it's ready by the time you’ve unloaded.” Your voice lacked its usual kindness. This shift in the conversation had you speaking with him as if this were all just… business. Had he pushed you too far? Were you trying to remind him that he had hired you to be here? That he should be keeping things… professional? Fuck. This was why he worked alone.

Warnings: mild language, miscommunication [but not in a horrible way, don’t worry, I’m better than that], young dumb in love din djarin, mild angst, angst with a happy ending, everything is in Din’s pov because i love his dumbass train of thought, idk it’s pretty soft

AN: oh my god i’m back from the dead! I told you guys i’d be back 😂 This request has been sitting in my inbox for probably about a year… and I have no end of apologies, but i’m finally done and it’s a miracle I don’t hate it 😂 I did change the prompt a little… the idea of them putting Grogu to bed was cute, but I had an idea for a younger Din and just fell in love with it, so i ran with that. I hope you guys enjoy 💖 Thank you @deceiver-of-gods for putting up with me all this time, ily 😘

Din had traveled through the toughest parts of the galaxy without batting an eye. He’d run with a mercenary group and proven himself to have more skills, more hits, more value… and more of a moral compass than anyone else in the group. After fighting his way out of their grip, he had taken out high-level targets with ease to earn his way into the Bounty Hunters guild. Din continued to be not only one of the youngest of their ranks, but also the most highly sought after. And after all of that?

You were his greatest challenge.

His Razor crest had taken one too many hits for him to be able to repair on his own, and the costs of repairs on his pre-imperial ship were starting to eat into the funds he usually gave back to his covert. Not providing for them was not an option; the Beroya was supposed to send their spoils back to the covert to provide for those in hiding. This is the way…

So when he landed on a planet with lush, colorful flora, and a generally trusting local people, he least expected you to strike a bargain with him. He needed a mechanic, and you wanted a ticket out. Free boarding and transportation in exchange for a live-in repair crew, he just had to get you the parts. It was his perfect solution. He hired you on the spot and scheduled to ship out as soon as the Crest was back in working order.

On that first day of travel, Din had only just entered hyper-speed when he became overly critical of his ship. The cold, metal surfaces of the hull were uninviting, full of sharp edges, and devoid of any personality. It didn’t take him much longer to realize that, to an outsider, his armor looked much the same.

But he’d never seen it that way before. To him, the Mandalorian armor was a sign of home, of belonging. It had been his savior in his childhood, and a beacon of his people as he grew into his own. He had tucked away into coverts where the blank metal lining of their ships and their walls meant protection.

But you were not Mandalorian. You hadn’t grown up around sharp edges and cold surfaces. The place you called home was filled with warm colors and soft curves, the buildings made to flow with the organic structures of the nature around them, letting in the bright sunlight necessary for its growth. You yourself walked with an elegance Din was unfamiliar with, treading softly on the ground and smiling brightly at him each time your kind eyes met his dark visor. You had shared your warmth with him since the moment he’d met you, despite the coldness he was certain he portrayed, and it surprised him how much he found himself drawn to it. Drawn to you.

You were everything he wasn’t. But Din would do everything in his power to make sure you never came to regret agreeing to this strange setup, that you never felt isolated or alone because you’d chosen him – a walking wall of cold beskar – as your traveling companion.

At first, he’d merely wanted to bring you things that reminded him of your home, things he thought might do the same for you. Anytime he was in a market passing through, either on a supply run or with a bounty in tow, he found something colorful to bring back to you. The first few had been small trinkets, things you could keep in the small cupboard you had decided to call your quarters, or delicate pieces of jewelry he would later catch you wearing around the ship.

The feeling Din got seeing you wear something he gave you made something warm swell inside of him… It made it hard to come back to the ship empty-handed, especially with the promise of your soft smile when he held his hand to you with a new gift.

On one of his trips, he’d brought back a woven tapestry; the craftsmanship had been beautiful, and the colors matched those of the outfits you wore the most around him. Din was about to launch into an apology when he first gave it to you, not having thought about where you would even be able to put it, but his statement was cut short when you happily grabbed it from him and turned on your heel to find something.

Not even a few moments later, you returned with a handful of powerful magnets you’d picked up on a market a few planets back, and he watched as you excitedly hung the artwork from one of the walls in the Crest’s hull, creating a curtain in front of one of the panels on that wall – you must have thought it was as ugly as he did.

“What do you think?” You had asked him, and he watched self-consciousness start to creep in now that your initial excitement was starting to wear off.

“It looks good,” he’d replied a little stiffly, still having a hard time finding the courage to speak around you. A bounty hunter, with hundreds of captures under his belt, was still too shy to talk to his mechanic… he at least wasn’t dumb enough to miss the irony in his own predicament, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t his truth.

Since then, Din had started bringing back more things you could use to decorate the ship with; tapestries, blankets, and cushions accompanied the trinkets and jewelry he brought back with him. He could tell that your favorite of his gifts had been a soft shawl he’d seen hanging at a market in the rural areas of Naboo. The politician’s son he was paid to deliver back home had gone on about the luxury material it was made of, something about ancient processes and unique resources… All he knew was that it brought out your natural beauty when you wrapped it around your shoulders, and he felt his cheeks get warm under his helmet when you did.

The two of you started to fall into these new routines fairly easily, and with all of your redecorations, it was becoming a welcome change. In the evenings – or at least what you thought was evenings in the darkness of hyperspace – you would prep a set of ration packs for the both of you. It was always two of the same kind so that you could feel like you were “sharing a meal,” a concept he had very little experience with. At least, he hadn’t for a very long time.

Since eating required removing his helmet, Mandalorians often took their meals in solitude, or within the confines of their family. You, on the other hand, were used to shared meals in dining rooms with someone at every seat, and communal dining halls bustling with people. At first, Din was afraid you might take offense to him leaving during meal times, never quite sure how to phrase his dilemma.

Luckily, he never had to.

You caught on pretty quickly to his predicament, handing him a warm ration pack with a smile before turning to let him eat in peace. He always rushed through his meals in order to join you in the hull, to thank you for your silent understanding by coming down to talk with you as you ate yours at a leisurely pace.

As the weeks went by, Din picked up on some of your silent requests as well, memories of food that didn’t need to be rehydrated before you ate it. He began looking out for other booths at the markets, and fresh ingredients began coming home in place of some of the gifts and trinkets he always brought back with him. Each time he did, a home-cooked meal would follow, and Din always made sure he expressed his gratitude when he came back down to join you for the second half of your meal.

Your routines continued like this for a while, silently assessing each other’s needs, and wordlessly adjusting to accommodate. And it worked. The Razor Crest felt more and more like a home rather than the metal casing of a ship, small traces of your personal touch nearly everywhere he looked. The food had been better, the companionship had been better, far better than the cold silence he’d had to put up with before you came to him.

And Din started to catch on to just how much his own feelings revolved around you.

He craved your warmth at the end of a rough day, he sought to provide your happiness, to get your approval… He tried to be better at actually opening his mouth, being able to express more of his feelings for you outside of your usual, quiet understanding of each other. He tried asking you more questions, wanting to not only hear about the events of your day but to actually get to know you better, showing you how much he genuinely cared. And Din was elated when you started to do the same in return.

After he came back to the ship from a particularly taxing hunt, he heard your soft footsteps descending the ladder from the cockpit while he secured the unconscious bounty into the corner of the hull you had affectionately deemed “time-out.” The most uncomfortable chair had been secured behind some of your tapestries, acting as a set of curtains that kept the bounties from view.

When Din emerged from the hanging fabrics, he could feel some of the tension leave his body at the sight of you in your work clothes, a warm smile dancing on your grease-stained cheeks, wiping your hands on the old flight suit you’d brought with you from home. No matter how difficult his hunts had been, being able to debrief with you upon his return always made him smile beneath the helmet.

“Hey!” you lilted.

“Hey,” he responded, still a little awkward despite how long you’d been working together. He was getting better, but it could definitely still use improvement.

“How’d the hunt go?” you asked, gesturing to the closed curtain beside him. “Obviously successful if you’ve got someone in time-out.” Din chuckled under his breath at your quip, mulling over the events of his day before he replied.

“It was fine.” You looked at him expectantly for a few moments, waiting for him to continue.

“Just… fine?” you half giggled, one brow raised in question while you donned a crooked grin. It hadn’t really gone bad, he did have the bounty in hand. It could have gone better, but nothing that came to any detriment in the end…

He nodded. “It… went well. There’s nothing to report,” he shrugged, unsure what else you were looking for in his answer.

But your face fell. Only for a moment… but enough for him to see it.

“How are your repairs coming?” He tried, hoping to stir the conversation again, to fix whatever had caused your sudden change in attitude.

“Fine. There’s nothing to report.” Your answer was short, both in your words and your temper. You usually volunteered the finer details of your projects, explaining with a dramatic flair all of your trials and your victories, stories that Din was always happy to be an audience to.

Why hadn’t you done so this time?

“I’m guessing it’ll be ration packs for dinner?” you added, nodding towards the empty satchel hanging from his hip. One that usually carried whatever gift he had brought for you. Dank farrik… he already hated coming back empty-handed – something you had never made him feel guilty for – but right now it was only making him feel worse.

“There wasn’t a market on the way back to the ship,” he almost pleaded, trying to explain his intentions, but you simply gave him a tight-lipped nod in acknowledgment.

“I’ll get the packs started so it's ready by the time you’ve unloaded.” Your voice lacked its usual kindness. This shift in the conversation had you speaking with him as if this were all just… business. Had he pushed you too far? Were you trying to remind him that he had hired you to be here? That he should be keeping things… professional?

Fuck. This was why he worked alone.

One of the downsides of having grown up around the Mandalorians was that his concepts of interpersonal relationships were skewed. The two of you were operating on completely different sets of rules, and where you had been able to read each other incredibly well… Now he was left to try and figure out where he’d gone wrong.

With Mandalorians, he knew where he stood. They spoke with purpose, meaning exactly what they said. Even growing up constantly harassing and sparring with Paz, Din knew where his sentiments came from; competition, comradery, and a deep passion for his people. But outside the covert… Din was still finding his footing when it came to the beings he interacted with. Riding with the mercenary group had at least taught him how to weed through the tangled lies that spewed from their mouths, trusting them only as far as he could throw them – if that.

But you were nothing like those slimy low lives. He didn’t know how to start friendships, how to engage in small talk… and he had no idea where to start when it came to the way you made his heart rate pick up. You made Din nervous, but you were also a comfort. You were new and familiar all at once, a new adventure as well as a place of rest.

You meant so much to him… and he’d managed to drive you away just as quickly as he had let you in.

…

The fog of uncertainty hung around the ship for days, and with it, the cold emptiness he had been so accustomed to in his solitude had returned. But after the warmth you had brought to his Razor Crest, being without it was almost suffocating. Din missed you.

That was a fact he was trying to wrap his head around, seeing as you still lived with him on the ship… but it wasn’t the same. You stopped humming while you worked on different panels across his ship, blanketing the hull in silence. Any questions Din tried to ask you were met with short, quiet responses. Surprisingly, you still made the effort to prepare a ration pack with yours during meal times, but when he rushed back down from the cockpit in record time to join you, you were nowhere in sight.

There was nowhere to go inside his ship. That was one of the things he’d liked about it; there was room for him to live on board comfortably without giving his bounties anywhere to hide. And yet, you still managed to avoid him. When he entered the hull, you escaped to your room. When he climbed up the rungs to the cockpit, you would make some quiet excuse and scurry out the door behind him. No matter where he went, what he said, or whatever measures he took to try and catch you off-guard, you were gone before he could even open his mouth.

He was fucking sick of it. He had made a promise, when you came aboard, that he would make sure you never came to regret choosing this life with him. That you would continue to choose to stay with him, to choose him over the home planet you were so desperate to leave. He made a promise, and he intended to keep it.

After landing on Nevarro a few days later to return his bounty, Din’s plan began to unfold. He walked out of the run-down cantina Karga liked to meet up at – insisting that he was going to fix it up and make it ‘a place of gathering’ – the spills of his hunt clanking against the mechanical chip he had tucked away in the satchel that sat on his belt. A chip that, if missing, would cause systems in the cockpit to go offline.

Something his mechanic would find during her daily diagnosis check.

Din felt a pang of guilt at the thought of you being buried arms deep in the underside of the control panel with no hope of finding the repair, because he was the one to take it from you... But then he thought about the worser fate; what if you figured out what was missing, and had more reason to dislike him than before? His guilt quickly turned into slight panic, making haste to get back to his ship to enact his plan before your clever brain could figure out what he’d done.

When he returned to the Crest, the harshness of the metal hull was almost overwhelming. You had started taking down your tapestries and decorations, save for everything but the “time-out” corner, and it felt cold. You didn’t come out to greet him or welcome him back, let alone acknowledge him at all. You hadn’t done so since the time your conversation had taken a turn for the worst. He did, however, hear a loud metal clang and your familiar grunt of frustration from exactly where he assumed you would be. He wondered if you had even heard him come on board…

Din quietly discarded his weapons before stealthily moving to the ladder just below the cockpit, stopping in his tracks when he heard a slew of colorful curses leave your lips. He waited a few moments until the sounds of your hard work continued, none-the-wiser to his oncoming ambush.

By the time he reached the top of the cockpit, he took a moment to assess the situation and figure out the best approach. You were exactly where he thought you would be, laying on your back just to the side of his pilot’s chair, agile hands fiddling with different cables and boards inside his instrument panel…

And your head snapped up to look at him when he made the door to the cockpit slide closed behind him.

You stared at Din for a couple moments before you opened your mouth. “Did you… are you cornering me?” When you put it that way, this was not going quite as he’d imagined, despite everything going according to plan. He had to keep going.

“You’re ignoring me,” he said firmly, his tone reminiscent of one he took with his bounties.

“Fucking maker, did you hunt me?” You asked with furrowed brows, and your slightly agitated tone made him fairly certain you didn’t actually need his answer. “I live on the same kriffing ship, and you had to treat me like one of your bounties just to say something to me?”

“I had to talk to you. You wouldn’t let me,” he pressed, keeping his voice steady. You gave a huff of indignation.

“I don’t have time for this, Mando, I have to fix your ship,” you threw at him before your body thumped dramatically on the ground as you went back to your work.

“So you are angry at me,” Din stated, sounding more like an observation than a question. He could work with angry. You shot him a glare without moving too much from your position, and he took that as a good enough indicator to continue his interrogation. “Did I do something to upset you?”

“Mando…” you started, his moniker leaving your lips in an exasperated sigh, not without a flame of annoyance lurking behind it.

“Don’t make another excuse. I’m tired of avoiding this.” He watched the bluntness of his words hit you, not surprised when you furrowed your brows as you started to slide out from under the console, sitting up to scowl at him properly.

“Another- what? I didn’t make any fucking excuses, I’m not avoiding anything,” you fired off, your tone indicating the exact opposite of what you were saying.

“Then why have you stopped talking to me?” Din expected another fiery response, but instead a split-second of realization crossed over your face before it was replaced with one of irritated confusion. It made him — him, the stone-cold Mandalorian bounty hunter — shift on his feet.

“I stopped talking to you?” You countered, and you waited a moment to let him respond… but he didn’t know what you expected him to say. “Right, because you’ve been super talkative after ‘there’s nothing to report’,” you mumbled, and it caused those same words to ring in his head from the night everything went wrong. You had said them so coldly…

After he had said them to you.

“I- I meant no offense,” he tried a little lamely, still not understanding where he had gone wrong, but wanting more than anything for you to understand that he was willing to fix it. “I didn’t have anything to say.” You gave another sigh, but this one was softer, like you were about to level with him. It was progress, if nothing else.

“Nothing? You couldn’t give me the details of your hunt the same way I tell you about the market? I mean, it’s not as exciting as I make it out to be, I just... “ You trailed off and looked away from him without finishing your sentence, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. He was finally getting answers out of you, he was going to get to the bottom of this, and make good on his promise to keep you happy. This was the way.

He was quick to kneel in front of you, trying to get closer to your level to get away from his interrogation tactic, and communicate that he was willing to listen and receive. “You just what? Help me understand.”

You scoffed a laugh as you shook your head. “There’s not a lot to understand. I like talking with you, I like when we share stories. I just… I wanted to be close with you.”

Din wanted to bang his head against the wall. With or without his helmet. This all started because he was an idiot who didn’t know how to talk? He was a bounty hunter, he should have been smarter than that. He should have been able to tell what had caused such a shift, and been able to fix it before the mission could go sideways.

But, in all fairness, he was a bounty hunter who was used to being alone.

Before Din had lucked into having you travel the galaxy with him on his hunts, he came back to an empty ship. There was nobody else to talk about the day with. And after living amongst the Mandalorians, a people of few words, he wasn’t exactly in the habit of speaking to himself or others. Before you, everything that surrounded Din was just… quiet.

“But… this is just professional, I get that now. I’ll stay out of your way, and I won’t pry. It is your ship, after all.”

And he was about to get himself into even more trouble if he didn’t figure out how to speak right fucking now.

“No,” he started firmly, desperately catching on to the tail end of your admission, but not entirely sure what was about to come out of his mouth. “This isn’t- I don’t… I’m not good at talking.” Strong start Djarin.

“What?” You asked softly. If anything, you pretty much justified his statement. He took a breath to try and steady himself, to dig through the chaos inside his head and find a half-way coherent string of words to offer you, to clean up his mess.

“Mandalorians are quiet. Bounty Hunters keep to themselves. I’m not used to talking,” he reiterated, and he watched your confused expression shift gently into one of intrigue, your sign for him to keep going. “I wasn’t trying to shut you out, I just… didn’t know what else to say. I’m used to sparing people any details that aren’t deemed necessary. Now I know that I shouldn’t do that with you. I’m sorry.”

Din was pleased to find a small smile growing at the corners of your mouth. “I mean… You don’t have to give me every detail. Just the good stuff,” you smiled, making Din’s heart feel warm. He didn’t realize how much he missed the radiance of your smile until now, feeling like he was finally stepping into the sun after spending so long in the dark.

“Just the good stuff… So I’ll tell you how much blood there was when I-”

“No, no thanks,” you cut him off quickly, making a fake gagging sound as he laughed under his helmet. “I take it back, let’s go back to no more talking, I’m good. I’ll just stay up here with all my busted circuits, thank you very much.”

“Please don’t, I can’t go back to quiet,” he said quickly, the smile still plastered on his face as the weight of his words hit both of you.

I can’t go back to quiet.

It was true, he couldn’t. The past few minutes talking with you again, even when you were angry and yelling at him half of the time, had him feeling better than he had in days.

“Oh yeah?” You offered, and he could tell by your knowing smile that you had come to the same realization that he did. You knew how much he had come to need you. “You don’t want a break from all my rambling?”

“Never,” he admitted. Din watched your shoulders relax and your soft smile get brighter as his answer left his helmet, and he realized how much you needed him in return. It made a warmth bloom from deep within his chest, warming him all the way out to the very coldest parts of his Beskar armor. “Never stop. I want you to fill this ship with all your stories, real or exaggerated.”

It caught him by surprise when you leapt up from your spot on the ground to meet his height, flinging your arms around his neck as you held him tight, fitting together perfectly even as you knelt on the floor in front of each other. With only a little hesitation, Din wrapped his gloved hands around you, arms circling your waist and pulling you flush against the plates of his armor, and soaked up everything that was you.

This is the way.

Sooner than he would’ve liked, he felt your grip around his neck loosen, and you leaned back to lock you gaze with his dark visor.

“As much as I’d love to catch up, your ship is driving me crazy and I have got to figure out how to get these control panels back online,” you explained, and Din slowly started to realize he hadn’t thought this part through.

“Well, I uh…”

“You’re welcome to stay and chat, if you’re in the talking mood. I’d love to hear about your meeting in town,” you offered playfully, sending him a wink as you began to shuffle yourself back down under the open compartment of his shift.

Instead, he got down on the ground and laid himself next to you, as if he was going to look at what you were doing with the repairs. Your hands stopped mid-action as you looked at him, and he enjoyed the airy laugh that escaped you at his actions.

“Or you can watch from here, that’s fine, too.”

“I was actually going to offer a suggestion,” he started timidly. You turned away from him as you focused on the wires in front of you again.

“I'll take anything you’ve got. I haven’t seen anything like this in ages… I’ve only got one idea left, but I doubt it’s right. It’s like the reactor chip is missing, but the only way that thing would’ve even budged is if someone-” You stopped in your tracks as Din lifted a gloved hand into your peripheral view, the small reactor chip held between his fingers for you to see.

You paused a moment before turning your head dangerously towards your companion. He could see the corners of your lips twitching as you did everything you could to avoid a smile, and he remained grateful for his helmet as it hid his beaming face from view.

You snatched the chip from his hand and looked back to your circuits. “Get out of my cockpit,” you said quietly, the last few words of your threat lost to your laughter. Din couldn’t stop his own laughter from coming through the modulator as he began getting up from the floor to do as he was told. “You’re making the ration packs tonight,” you added, the smile on your cheeks evident in your voice.

"This is the way."

Thanks for reading!! If you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic, be sure to follow @writerlyhabits-library + turn on post notifications! 💛

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #young din djarin #request #anonymous request #kam takes forever to do shit #my writing

912 notes · View notes