#but like it's still weird when they make a whole thing of her telling din she can't train grogu as a jedi | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ryehouses · 2 years

Note

It's probably too soon to ask this, but I'd love to see any Mandalorian's point of view of the most recent chapter. If that's not doable, I'd also love to see any Jedi's point of view of Din's lightsaber practice/duel if that's possible!

boy howdy! i got several requests in a similar vein; i do have some mando povs of the summit, but as the summit is still ongoing, i'm gonna save them for later.

as compensation, here's a bunch of mando povs following the whole riduur thing in ast 27!

(standard warning for mandalorians being awful to each other applies.)

in which the mandalorians play telephone.

“What?” said Koska Reeves, lifting her eyebrows. Why is Djarin being so weird about this? She wondered. It’s not like Fett’s fun to be around, or anything. But Djarin was looking so grim, his armor smeared with fresh ash, helmet tilting down like he disapproved.

She felt a little bad for Djarin, honestly. He was so serious, and if he was spending all of his time getting shot at on Fett’s behalf, he probably hadn’t had much reason to laugh lately.

And with what Bo’s got planned, he’s not gonna have much to laugh about for a while, either, she thought.

She took pity on Djarin. Maybe he just needed a joke. That always improved Koska’s mood, after a tough fight.

So she lightened her tone and said, teasing, “Is he your riduur or something?”

Djarin stared at her. “Yes,” he said.

Koska usually had pretty good control of her expression, but she felt her eyes go wide. “...Oh.”

- - -

Axe Woves loved his wife. He really did. She was everything he could want in a partner; loyal, funny, steady, protective. It didn’t matter how crazy the rest of the galaxy got, because Axe knew that Koska had his back.

Or Lady Bo’s, he thought. If Koska wasn’t at Axe’s side, she was at their lady’s, and Axe could get on with his work knowing that at least Lady Bo-Katan was well-guarded. Koska was ruusaanyc, a stone in a sandstorm. Her steady nature was one of the reasons that Axe had married her.

So when Koska, trailing along behind Djarin, the cultist Lady Bo-Katan seemed to think was essential to their mission to reclaim Mandalore, grabbed Axe by the elbow and dragged him back when Axe went to follow Lady Bo-Katan, Axe listened, because he knew that Koska would only leave their lady alone with a Child of the Watch if she had a good reason.

“Koska,” he said, concerned. His wife was pale. Her eyes were a little wild. “What’s wrong?”

“They’re married,” she hissed.

Axe stared at her. “...Who’s married?”

Ka’ra bal ka’ra, not Tristan and the Saxon boy, I hope, Axe thought. Tristan Wren was a sensible man and a good friend, not one prone to making rash decisions or tumbling around with strategic allies, but the Saxon boy had been enamored of him ever since he’d stepped aboard. That’ll be a nightmare to explain to his mother, she had an alliance with Clan Farr arranged for him –

“Djarin,” said Koska.

Axe blinked. “Djarin got married? To who? Another cultist?” That wouldn’t be good, but if Lady Bo-Katan was going to undermine the man already –

“Worse,” Koska said. Her voice had a manic edge to it that had Axe looking down the long white hall for a blaster or an enemy. “He married Boba Fett.”

Axe blinked again, Koska’s words taking a second or two to register, and then when they did register, Axe paled. “... I see,” he said, very carefully. “Has Lady Bo-Katan been told?”

Koska shook her head.

“Then we need to tell her,” Axe said, decisively. “And we need to tell her soon, before word gets out, ka’ra bal ka’ra, if word gets out – ”

“Right,” said Koska. “Right. We’ll just have to keep it quiet. It’s – it’s only Djarin, right? Nobody even really knows him. How hard can keeping that secret be?”

- - -

“HE MARRIED BOBA FETT?”

Axe, standing a little behind Koska, dropped his head into his hands. Koska winced. On the other side of Bo, Mira Antilles, Tristan Wren and Enna Kast were all staring at Bo, dumbstruck.

“He did,” said Koska, thinking quickly. She glared at the three warriors behind Bo, threatening them into silence with as much authority as she could muster. “And this information does not leave this bridge, alright?”

The warriors behind Bo were all veterans of joha’kaan, and nodded.

Koska let out a breath, relieved. Now all she had to do was calm Bo down, and they’d all be good to go. Everything would be fine. They could – they could still salvage this.

“Hey?” Axe muttered, lifting his head out of his hands. “Where’s the Saxon kid?”

- - -

Pike Saxon, eldest of Lysistra Saxon’s seven sons, was used to getting holotexts from his younger brothers. He had six of them, after all, and now that little Torr wasn’t so little all seven brothers were scattered across the galaxy to make names for themselves.

Well, names and credit, but Pike was after glory more. His clan’s standing had fallen. Even when his uncle had been the Viceroy of Mandalore, Clan Saxon hadn’t been well-liked, and now even though Uncle Gar’s branch of the family tree had been cut away, the rest of them were still outcasts.

Not for long, though, Pike thought. He was on Nar Shaddaa hunting Pyke Syndicate enforcers. It was dangerous, but the irony – Pike hunting the Pykes – made Pyke laugh. The credits weren’t bad either.

Pike was sitting in a grimy cantina, sipping spotchka and watching a pair of Pykes exchange a sack of credits for a crate of spice, when his commlink buzzed.

Pike frowned.

Really? he thought, exasperated. Only his family had his frequency. Giving it out had been a mistake. All six of his brothers sent him messages day and night, regardless of how many times Pike told them to stop.

Surreptitiously, not wanting to draw more attention to himself than he already had, Pike turned his wrist over so he could see the message scrawling across his commlink’s tiny screen.

I swear on all my ancestors, he thought, finishing his drink. If Grayling sends me one more stupid joke –

Pike paused. The message was from his youngest brother, Torryg. The kid was an – honored guest, his mother had phrased it – of Bo-Katan Kryze’s. That didn’t mean that Torr wouldn't send Pike dick jokes, but he usually waited until he knew Pike wasn’t working before breaking out whatever new bit of profanity he’d learned from Kryze’s people.

One eye still on the Pykes at the bar, Pike swiped over on the message, interested to see what Torryg wanted.

PIKE, the message read, in bold Aurebesh letters. YOU AREN’T GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED.

- - -

“ – BOBA FETT,” Bo-Katan Kryze continued, at battlefield volume. “HE MARRIED BOBA FETT, OF ALL THE KARKING PEOPLE IN THE GALAXY – ”

Korkie sighed and pushed his plate away. He had been hoping to have an ordinary family meal, but it seemed like even that was too much to ask for these days.

- - -

“Boba Fett? Really?” Cyri Ordo leaned back against the bar, studying her partner with interest. “I know that name. He was a bounty hunter, right? A few years ago?”

Her partner Haddock, one of Lysistra Saxon’s many sons, snorted. He was a few years older than Cyri and had seen more of the galaxy, which sometimes made him obnoxiously convinced that he’d seen and knew everything there was to see and know.

Cyri was doing her best to disabuse him of that notion, but it was a work in progress.

“Boba Fett was the bounty hunter,” Haddock said. “You weren’t out of the clan yet, but he was everywhere. He’s brought down some of the biggest bounties in the galaxy! Gilramos Libkath, Wat Tambor, Han Solo – ”

“I thought he was dead, though,” Cyri cut in, before Haddock could get really carried away.

Haddock paused. “I did too,” he admitted. “Can’t be, though. Not if he’s married now. Right?”

- - -

“Who’s married?” Adhira asked, fussing with the smooth leather bands adorning her lekku. They were a gift from her father and contrasted nicely with her skin, which was a rich, deep green. Adhira hadn’t worn the bands with her armor yet, but if they clashed she supposed that armor could always be painted. “Not Torryg?”

Adhira Farr had only met Torryg Saxon twice, but both times she’d liked him. Liked him enough to entertain her mother’s ideas of marrying him, anyway. Torryg didn’t have much of a name for himself yet, but he was a Saxon – Adhira knew that he’d win plenty of glory, once he was older. Clan Saxon and Clan Farr would make good allies.

Bakti Farr sighed. Teenagers, she thought. But she still reached out with graceful hands and helped her daughter arrange her new lekku-bands. “Pay more attention, sareeni. You are your father’s heir – you need to start paying attention to politics.”

Adhira wrinkled her nose. “Politics are boring,” she said.

Bakti rolled her eyes. “That’s not true,” she said, her lekku twitching disapprovingly. “Neither for the mando’ade nor for the Ryl.”

Her daughter sighed. “Fine,” she muttered. She stopped fretting so obviously over her appearance. “Who’s married?”

“Better,” Bakti approved. “Boba Fett, apparently. And some mysterious warrior that Lady Kryze has been keeping close at hand.”

“Boba Fett… I know that name,” Adhira said. “Don’t I?”

“You do pay attention in your lessons,” Bakti said, tweaking one of Adhira’s lekku. Adhira laughed. “I was starting to wonder. Yes, you have heard of Boba Fett. He’s the supposed son of Jango Fett – the old mand’alor Mereel’s son, back when we had such a thing.”

“The mand’alor’s son?” Adhira said, eyebrows rising. Bakti was proud of her – the girl did have a keen sense of clan politics, when she could be convinced to pay attention. “That’s got to make Lady Bo-Katan mad, the son of an enemy marrying one of her people.”

Bakti agreed. “Which is why,” she said, tweaking Adhira’s lekku again, “you should comm young Torryg and see if he’s got any more details, hmm? I heard the news from his mother, but Torryg is with Lady Bo-Katan.”

Adhira grinned. “I’ll see what I can do.”

- - -

“ – SHOULD HAVE JUST STAYED IN WHATEVER SAND PIT HE CRAWLED OUT OF, IF HE THINKS HE CAN INTERFERE WITH MY PLANS LIKE THIS – “

Mira Antilles had not been afraid of anything since she had first seen the hole in the stars where Alderaan had once been. She wasn’t afraid now. She had seen much worse than her friend’s occasional eruptions of temper.

… But when Vera Beroya, head of a clan Bo-Katan was trying to sway to her side ahead of the upcoming summit, commed to discuss the possible benefits of such an alliance, Mira seized the opportunity and slipped off of the bridge, leaving Bo to work through her anger alone.

A tactical retreat, Mira reasoned, wasn't a sign of fear. Just good sense, especially in this case.

- - -

“So he isn’t dead,” Mereel Skirata said, propping himself up on his elbows. Clan Skirata’s home on Daro wasn’t quite the same as their sprawling morut on Mandalore had been, but Daro was nice enough. Forested, temperate, full of all sorts of interesting animals to hunt. The Empire had abandoned it years ago and the locals hadn't bothered coming back. Clan Skirata was mostly left alone, out here. “I’d wondered.”

Ordo grunted. He very rarely thought about Boba Fett at all. “I don’t see why you care,” he said. “It’s not like Boba Fett’s ever done anything for us.”

Mereel had always been the friendlier of the two of them, though, and in his old age he’d gotten absurdly sentimental. Kal’buir’s influence, Ordo thought. It’s not like the Prime had had any sentiment in him.

“He’s one of the brothers,” Mereel said, mildly.

Ordo grunted again. Technically Boba Fett was, but Ordo's definition of brotherhood was narrow, for a clone. “Never seemed to want to be,” he observed.

“The last time you saw Boba Fett, he was ten,” Mereel pointed out. “Remember how awful your kids were at ten? Proper strill cubs, the whole pack of them.”

Ordo blinked. Considered. Reviewed forty-year-old memories of standoffish young Boba Fett, who'd never wanted anything to do with any of the other clones, with the eyes of a father and an uncle and – ka’ra bal ka’ra, a grandfather, soon – who had seen dozens of children, most with Fett blood, come up from child to adult.

Then Ordo winced.

“Okay,” he said. “That’s fair.”

- - -

“While I’m surprised that Fett, of all people, would marry a Mandalorian,” Ursa Wren said, studying a wavering blue hologram of her son, “what I’m more concerned with is who he has married. Who among us would take a mongrel like Fett?”

Tristan grimaced. “You’re not going to like it,” he said.

Ursa raised an eyebrow. That can’t be good, she thought. Tristan was a steady young man. He’d had to be, to survive under Gar Saxon. If Tristan was concerned –

Did Fett marry into one of the Great Clans? She wondered. There were only two Kryzes left. Bo would never sully her bloodline that way and while Korkie, the nephew, had inherited an unfortunately peaceful temperament from his mother, he was loyal to his aunt, and wouldn’t do anything to undermine her status.

The Vizslas are gone, Ursa thought. There are few enough Ordos. An Awaud, maybe, from the branch that followed old Mereel, but I didn’t think they had any warriors of marrying age left among them.

“He married the mand’alor,” Tristan said.

Ursa’s thoughts ground to a screeching halt. “The who?”

- - -

“No one really knows anything about him,” Kip reported, folding his arms across his chest.

Fenn Rau rubbed his forehead. This was not how he thought that his day was going to go when it had started. It wasn’t an unwelcome development – the son of Jango Fett deciding to reinsert himself among the Mandalorians was not, and would never be, unwelcome, not to those who remembered Jango and Jaster – but it was admittedly a strange one.

Fenn had never approached the boy. Well, man, now. There’d been some talk, years and years ago, about tracking Boba down, when word had reached the Protectors that Jango Fett had died. It had seemed like the least they could do. Jaster Mereel had been one of theirs, after all.

But the Clone Wars had erupted right after Jango’s death and no one had been able to find Boba when they’d gone looking, and then by the time the boy was making a name for himself there were too few warriors left to go looking, and as far as Fenn knew, Boba Fett had never sought out what was left of his father’s people.

“He must be something, this Mandalorian,” Fenn said thoughtfully. “To bring Boba Fett back into the sphere of Mandalore – are you sure no one knows anything about him?”

Kip shrugged. “Wrasse only said that the Mandalorian was some kind of bounty hunter,” he said. None of Fenn Rau’s people had been invited to Kryze’s light cruiser ahead of her summit; Fenn knew that she was attempting to flatter, threaten and bribe half a dozen clan heads to her cause, but she hadn’t reached out to Fenn yet to try the same. All his information came through the scraps Kip was able to pick up; Kippan Awaud was well-liked, even among the old Death Watch crowd, and had friends in every clan.

“And that he must be a skilled warrior,” Kip added. “Wrasse’s little brother said that the Mandalorian was the one who defeated Moff Gideon, not Kryze.”

Fenn Rau raised his eyebrows. “Now that is interesting,” he murmured. “A nameless warrior defeated Gideon and won the loyalty of Boba Fett?”

Kryze must be having tookas, Fenn thought, almost amused. She had counted on the son of Jango Fett keeping his buc’ye out of the summit. His claim, after all, was nearly as strong as hers. If Fett was canny enough to snatch one of her allies out from under her nose –

Kip just shrugged again. “I can try to find out more,” he said.

“Yes, do,” said Fenn. “This – this changes things.”

- - -

“This changes nothing,” said the armorer, sitting cross-legged in front of a dark forge. She was not sure that this new covert was to her liking, and she had no intention of going to the trouble of lighting the forge if she didn’t intend to stay.

“Doesn’t it?” Wyrran growled.

“No,” said the armorer. “Din Djarin has broken no law.”

Wyrran snorted. “Clan Fett is our enemy,” he said.

The armorer looked at him, coolly amused. “Does he know that?” she asked. “I have not spoken to him of Boba Fett. Nor have I spoken to him of any false Creed or false Way.”

“Fett will have told him,” Wyrran said, bitterly. He was often bitter, these days. He had taken the loss of the covert on Nevarro hard. The armorer supposed that she had taken it hard too, but the dead were settled now. She had performed the rights, and Din Djarin, she’d heard, had had his vengeance on Moff Gideon.

As I thought he would, she thought. Djarin had always been exceptional. It should not surprise Wyrran that Boba Fett, dangerous though he was, had caught Din Djarin’s attention.

“Djarin knows the risks,” the armorer said. “All of us take the same risk, when we venture beyond the safety of the tribe.”

The risk of outsiders. Of coming across whatever fragments of Mandalore – weak Mandalore, broken Mandalore – still remained. The risks of losing a helmet in battle, or confronting the so-called “True” Mandalorians’ false Way.

“He is well-trained,” the armorer continued. “And well-raised. He knows the Creed and the Way.”

“Fett doesn’t,” Wyrran growled.

“That is hardly Djarin’s fault,” the armorer said, tone still mild. “I care little about what Fett does or doesn’t do. What matters is what Djarin does or does not do.”

“And if he decides to throw all of this away?” challenged Wyrran.

The armorer sighed. She studied her cold forge. Her hammer rested against the dark, cool metal.

“Then we will do what we must,” she said. She met Wyrran’s gaze. “This is the Way.”

Wyrran eyed her, but finally inclined his head. “This is the Way,” he echoed.

It might have been the quiet and the dark of the unlit forge, but the words did not bring the comfort that they used to.

The armorer ignored that too. "Come, old friend," she said. "Let us sit vigil. We will see Djarin soon enough."

And then, she thought, we will see what he has become.

- - -

“ – BOBA FETT, WHO THINKS HE CAN INTERFERE LIKE THIS? AS IF THAT WALKING TEST TUBE HAS ANYTHING TO OFFER A REAL MANDALORIAN, EVEN A CHILD OF THE WATCH – “

“Tris,” said Torryg, staring fixedly out at the starfield beyond the Gra’tua’s bridge, in case accidentally making eye contact with Lady Kryze got her started yelling at Torryg instead. “Will you kill me? Please?”

Tristan Wren sighed, and did not kill Torryg.

- - -

The force of the sneeze caught Boba Fett entirely by surprise. He hadn’t even felt it coming on. One minute he was sitting at the bar with Fennec and Noora, inhaling a bowl of Espan fried noodles and discussing how many bodies they’d need to ensure the palace’s security, if Gorga and his mercs came back, and the next his bowl of noodles was upended all over the bar and Boba was blinking stars out of his eyes, dazed.

“Smoo te ya,” Noora said.

Fennec just looked amused. “Too much joloko pepper in the sauce?”

“No,” said Boba, blinking. His nose itched tremendously. He looked at the noodles now splattered everywhere, sauce dripping, and sighed.

He’d been enjoying those.

Noora reached under the bar, fished out a rag, and tossed it at Boba’s head. He thought about reaching up to catch it, but Noora hadn’t laughed since the raid. He let it catch him in the face. The cloth was damp and smelled faintly of spilled tihaar, and one corner had been singed by blasterfire.

Boba didn't mind. When it dropped back down to the bar, Noora was smiling. It wasn’t a full-on laugh, but it was good enough. Better than Boba'd seen in days, from her. Satisfied, Boba took the rag and started to mop up his overturned lunch.

Fennec knew what he was doing and rolled her eyes. Soft, she signed, in rough Tusken. Boba ignored her.

“Must be all this dust in the air,” Boba said. Gorga’s mercs hadn’t been particularly skilled, but they’d done a level job at wrecking Boba’s palace. His nose itched again and he suppressed a second sneeze with a glower.

“That,” Noora agreed, still smiling. “Or somebody’s talking about you. That’s what my mother used to say, you know.”

Most of the people who’d be talking about Boba right now probably wanted him dead. Boba snorted. “Let’s hope not,” he said. “That’s the last thing I need right now.”

- - -

Far away, on the other side of the galaxy, Luke Skywalker opened his eyes and cocked his head, confused.

“Uh oh,” said Han, dropping his feet down off of Luke’s desk like he hadn’t been sprawled out sleeping just a few minutes ago. If Luke pointed that out, Han’d accuse him of spying, even though it didn’t take a spy’s work to figure out that Han would always prop his feet up on other people’s furniture. “Disturbance in the Force, kid?”

Luke rolled his eyes. Han had been attending some of the younglings’ classes, lately. Ben did better when he knew Han was around. Honestly, it wasn’t a bad idea, Han attending the classes. If he paid more attention to them, he might even learn something about the Jedi.

But all Han had learned, really, was a few words and phrases that he’d trot out wherever Luke and the other Jedi were talking about the Force.

“No,” Luke said, humoring his friend. He didn’t mind that Han had napped while Luke had meditated. Han needed it. “Not a disturbance. More like…”

The Force was always close at hand, these days. Luke couldn’t remember a time without it. A time when he hadn’t been able to hear it, to close his eyes and sink into it like an embrace. He’d fallen into the Force in seconds, this time, and it had almost been –

“More like someone told the Force a really good joke,” Luke settled on. That was what it had felt like. A flicker of warmth. The Force curling in on itself, delighted. “There’s – someone out there is having a good laugh.”

Han raised a skeptical eyebrow. “The Force has a sense of humor?”

Luke grinned. “That,” he said. He knew how it sounded. Han had a pretty good tolerance for what he called “Force stuff,” especially now that Ben could talk and had no qualms about telling his father what he dreamed or heard during mediation. But there was no reason to strain his credulity – Han’s carefully-constructed understanding of the way the galaxy worked – any further. “Or I’m just hearing things.”

- - -

The graveyard that had once been Mandalore was still and silent. The surface of the planet was thick with ash and dust, scalded rock. The same sunlight scoured over the graves of Clan Kryze that scoured over the graves of Jaster Mereel, of Tor Vizsla, of the Ordos and the Awauds and the Skiratas and the Bralors, Vaus and Raus, Wrens and Wravens.

There was no one left on Mandalore to hear the news sweeping through what remained of Mandalore’s people. The whispers, the plans, the guesswork, the surprise. There was no one left on Mandalore to care.

But in the skies overhead, all of the ka’ra bal ka’ra were shining brightly.

#ast asks #ast tag #ast 'verse pov tag #y'all i have too many goddamn ocs

123 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 3 years

Note

hi! if you’re accepting requests from prompt list #2, does angst to fluff count lol. 5 from angst, 49 from fluff lists! with reader thinking din loves someone else 🥺 i like mando x omera but.. reader who perhaps doesnt have the skills omera has and sees how din looks at her… THE ANGST 😌🤌

AN | Me, writing some Din? It’s been a hot minute, but here we are. I miss him 🥺

Warnings | None

Pairing | Din x Fem!Reader

Masterlist | Din, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A small sigh, a wistful little thing, escaped your lips as you studied the gently lapping water of the lake. It was calm here, a peaceful, tranquil place that served as a welcome refuge after all that you'd been through in the last few years. Sometimes it seemed almost too good to be true. The distant sounds of laughter met your ears as children ran around and played, carefree as could be. Sometimes you wished you were that young again; innocent to life’s darker sides. Unfortunately that wasn’t a possibility, but for now you’d take the peace and stillness you could get.

Pulling off your boots and socks, you quickly tossed them to the side. The water was warm as you relaxed and leaned back, closing your eyes and soaking up the warmth of the summer sun. It wasn’t until you heard the familiar voice that your eyes slowly snapped back opened. Your heart constricted slightly as you spotted Din nearby speaking to Omera. He seemed so happy, in a much better mood than you’d seen in a long time. It was all her, and you remained invisible. Which, when it came to most things wasn’t too bad, but sometimes you wished he would see you.

“Is somebody jealous?” you hadn’t even heard the bounty hunter walk over; you supposed that’s one of the many reasons he was the best in the galaxy. Boba offered a small grimace before sitting down next to you. You shrugged him off staring back into the water. You were not about to get into anything with Boba; that man was insufferable and usually right.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you brushed him off, trying desperately not to look back at Din. Instead, you focused on the water and watched the tiny fish whiz through the water; a few of them brushed by your feet, sending a ticklish shiver up your spine, “I’m just...enjoying the calm afternoon sun and soaking up as much peace before we inevitably leave again.”

“That’s how this all works,” Boba sighed as you nodded in agreement, “you knew that from the day you became my apprentice.”

“I know,” you whispered, “but I hoped at one point I could...walk away and have a normal life. Like this.”

“Normal is all relative,” he had a point as you huffed lightly and stood up, brushing off your pants and reaching for your boots, “but if this is what you want, what you truly want, you know you’re welcome to leave whenever. I would not hold you back from the life you wanted.”

“I know, Boba,” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, “the problem is that I don’t really know what I want...I think I know but...it’s more than that.”

“Of course,” he agreed, casting a quick glance at the object of your affections before turning back to you, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Either way, it will work out, just as it always does,” you swallowed the lump that had welled up in your throat, “Boba, why are you doing this?”

“I just want to make sure you’re happy - that you know that you have choices in what you’re doing,” he said like it was no big deal, but to you it meant so much. This hardened, sometimes gruff man really did have a heart of gold underneath it all, “should you want to part ways, I would understand. Should you want to stay, I’d be more than happy to have you with me. I don’t know what the future holds for myself, Fennec, or Djarin, but you know it will not always be easy. But sometimes you have to decide what’s most important.”

“Yes,” you answered softly, “thank you, Boba.”

He remained silent as you laced up your boots before padding away, back towards the village. You knew you had a lot to think about and if you wanted things to change at all, you’d have to figure out something. You cast a glance over your shoulder and you were almost positive that you’d spotted Din looking in your direction. But it was all a trick of the mind; it had to be. Why would he spare you more than a passing thought anyways?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late by the time he found you; much later than any reasonable person should have been outside, but you couldn’t sleep. There was too much on your mind to silence, and if you managed to, it was short-lived and another thought came to replace the previous one. Eventually you’d given up and wandered out of the small hut home that had been acting as your own home for the last couple of months. You knew the area was safe and wanted to enjoy the temperate night air before it turned to a crisp fall breeze, or worse - you’d be gone.

Small bugs chirped happily along with the soft songs of nightbirds as you walked around the sleeping village; you weren’t scared here, you felt safe and at home. But as you rounded a corner, a gloved hand reached out and grabbed your wrist. A small yelp of surprise left your lips as you pulled into a wall of cool metal - beskar.

“Shhh,” Din placed a finger to his lips as you relaxed when you realized it was him, “you’ll wake everyone up. It’s just me.”

“Dank Farrik!” you hissed at him, “how was I supposed to know that? You could have been a murderer!”

“Well….you should be in bed sleeping.”

“So should you!” your arms crossed over your chest as you stared him down, and eventually he huffed in defeat, realizing you were right. He couldn’t sleep either, plagued by the choices he knew that he had to make sooner rather than later. He hadn’t expected you to be out as well, “what are you doing anyway?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck nervously, a flash of...something in his dark eyes, “I thought that some fresh air would clear my head.”

“Same here,” you admitted reluctantly, leaving the two of you in an awkward silence. You wished you had enough bravery (or perhaps even stupidity) in your body to just say something to him then and there. At least it would be out of the way; but you weren’t feeling anything but nervous butterflies fluttering in your tummy, “I...umm...I guess I’ll get back. Try and sleep.”

“Hey-” he reached for your arm gently before you could get too far away. You turned around and raised an eyebrow as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, “d-did I do something wrong?”

“What? What are you talking about?” the question caught you off guard, but judging by the look on his face, you could sense that this was something he had been thinking for some time.

“You’ve been different lately...it almost feels like you’re avoiding me.”

“Oh DIn, you’re being ridiculous,” and yet the accusation was very true.

“You’re fine around Boba, Fennec...everyone else. But every time I’m around it feels like you can’t wait to get away,” you should have known that he would have noticed sooner or later. The man was more observant than you’d cared to admit, “if I did something, please tell me.”

“You can’t be serious, Djarin. There’s nothing wrong…”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been doing anything. You’ve got too much free time and your mind is running wild.”

“Tell me it’s not true then.”

“Din-”

“Tell me.”

“The problem is that you’re in love with someone else,” the words were out of your mouth before you even contemplated them. You were mortified and in some ways you were relieved. At least it was all out in the open now and you were able to let the chips land where they may.

“Oh,” was his only response as his head tilted to the side and he looked at you in confusion, “what?”

“I...kriff,” you sighed, “I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry - forget I said anything.”

“Who am I in love with?”

“What do you mean?” tears welled up in your eyes at his response; almost like a cruel joke, “you know, everyone knows! Omera; and why wouldn’t you be? She’s wonderful - kind, smart, beautiful … everything. Part of me wants to dislike her, but I can’t because she’s such a good person but it kills me a little bit to know that you love her and you’ll never even think twice about me. I know that’s super selfish but it’s the way I feel; and judging from how this is going I think I’m making the right decision by leaving. By myself.”

Din said nothing as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. You laughed bitterly at yourself before realizing that this might have been the best decision after all. You couldn’t stay after this.

It wasn’t long before Din came to his senses and ran after you, calling your name and catching up with a few easy strides. You came to a reluctant stop as you sniffled and waited for him to say something, despite the fact that you weren’t sure you wanted to hear whatever he had to say.

“I-I-I’m not in love with Omera,” he insisted as it became your turn to look at him in bewilderment, “I’m in love with you.”

“What?”

“I’ve been talking to her about you,” he confessed, “about how to do...this sort of thing. But then you started avoiding me and I wondered if maybe I’d read the signs wrong and you didn’t like me at all. At least not in that way.”

“I don’t….what?” you heard his words but weren’t able to fully comprehend them. This had to be some sort of weird fever dream. Din sighed - his trademark sigh - before ripping off his gloves and gently putting his hands on the sides of your face. He was hesitant at first, to see if you would stop him. But you didn’t...instead you relished in his touch, the feel of his bare skin on yours sending electric shivers throughout your whole body.

After a few moments of quietly studying your features, he leaned in and slowly pressed his lips against yours. It wasn’t a proper kiss by any means, hardly more than a ghost of one, but it felt...strangely wonderful. You looked at him in disbelief as he pulled back; was this really the same man that you’d met all that time ago that wouldn’t even tell anyone his name or let them see his face?

“Oh.”

“Can we go inside?” he whispered softly, “can we talk?”

“Yeah,” you agreed gently. He reached for your hand but before he could take it in his, you stopped him and pressed another sweet, barely there kiss to his lips. A tinge of pink colored his cheeks as you beamed at him, “now we can go.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pedro Character Taglist (strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you - please check your settings. Strikethroughs will get removed if not taggable)

@qhbr2013 @greeneyedblondie44 @dodgerandevans @cannedsoupsucks @april-showers-and-flowers @klaine-92 @softboiipascal @rpcvliz @im-an-adult-ish @dobbyjen @thevoiceinyourheadx @niki-xie @jediknight122 @xxlovingfandomsxx @mrpascals @startrekkingaroundasgard @welcometothepedroverse @ilikemymendarkandfictional @actual-spawn-of-satan @wanderlust69 @lazybeeches @beskarboobs @someday-when-you-leave-me @leaiorganas @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday @madslorian @artsymaddie @haildoodles @windfallss @spookispunk @nikkixostan @edencherries @stillshelbs @djarinbarnes @alyispunk @ayamenimthiriel @gallowsjoker @its–fandom–darling @star017 @amneris21 @empress-palpat1ne @cable-kenobi @gooddaykate @princeofdorne @natthebattygeologist @riddikulus-obsessions @sleep-tight1 @mamacitapascal @14mcmd1122 @leaiorganas @hoodedbirdie @kenzieam @dobbyjen @jedi-mando @milkxxkookies @lazybeeches @general-latino @jediknight122 @cosmoschick @recklessworry @jaime1110 @thorins-queen-of-erebor @thatnerdwriter @bestintheparsec @pascalisthepunkest @kristeng42 @rosie-posie08

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x fem!reader #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #the mandalorian x reader

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blogevaawrites · 3 years

Text

Keeping to the schedule

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: angst, sad, marriage, divorce, smut

Summary: After seven years of being married, two daughters and a difficult divorce, they try to understand what went wrong and why they let that happen.

Part I Part II

I tried to process the whole information he was sharing and for the first time I believed I made a mistake. I saw it then, why he has been incredibly mad at me.

Sure, at first our separation was hard, but now he was looking happy, at least that’s what he shows me. I also was well, I still loved him but deep in my heart I thought it was the best for both of us. Now everything seems so wrong.

“There was another way. You could have told me everything, we could have dealt with all of that. You let this happen to us.” I said, full of resentment. His face was different then, he came here full of concern and then all what I was seeing was frustration.

“What are you talking about? You filed for divorce. You decided unilaterally when we were done. You ran away from our marriage at first obstacle. This is not my fucking blame.” His words were like a knife in my skin. I never took it like that. All what I could see was his unhappiness and coldness, in my heart I was doing the right thing.

Tears fell down through my cheeks uncontrollably, our seven years together seemed thrown away. I could feel him moving around the room, he was trying to calm down himself.

“I thought you were being distant because you blamed me for the infection, and then when anything seemed to change, I thought you weren’t happy and that you didn’t know how to leave me.” I said after I got my shit together. I saw him shaking his head, I wasn't sure if he wasn’t satisfied with my words or if he was answering the accusation.

He didn’t response right away, he took a few minutes to breathe loudly.

“I felt ashamed of being the one who needed help after what you went through.” He said without looking at me, he was staring the wall behind me. “I could have never ever blamed you for something like that.” He finished. His hand went to caress my face before pulling me to his embrace.

“I’m sorry” I babbled between tears.

I let myself cry my eyes out in his arms. I felt like I threw out our life because I couldn’t put aside my anger to talk our problems out , like I put my daughters through all of that because I got mad at my husband. I knew he wasn't innocent at all but guiltiness took over my whole body and couldn’t shake it off.

His hands ran all over my back and the back of my neck; the feeling of security invaded my body and the need of get out of my own thoughts grew.

He was so close to me that I couldn’t help kissing him.

His hands didn’t take long before holding my face closer to him, in the perfect position to let our tongues connect with each other.

Needing for air we broke the kiss but not for long, he kissed me again letting his hand go to hold me up from my butt. I just could follow his actions; I didn’t want to do anything else. He took me to our bedroom quickly, he sat at the edge of the bed making me straddle him.

Without leaving my mouth, he moved the strips of my shirt away from my shoulders, leaving my breast on full display for him. His hands played with my nipples before taking them in his mouth. I just could moan, moving my hips to find some friction against his bulge. He showed me his excitement pushing my hips even closer to him.

“I love you so much” he mumbled against my collarbone. His words made my noxious thoughts hunt my mind, I knew he loves me, I loved him too; it wasn’t the first time he said it after our divorce, but it was wrong now. I stood up quickly, he looked at me confused while I tried to put my shirt on again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked extending his arm to reach me.

“Who am I now? Your sidechick. Isn’t works in the other way? From a sidechick to a wife?” I said with a sardonic laugh, rubbing my eyes, trying to concentrate again.

He laughed, laying down on the bed. I looked at him completely horrified by his reaction. He took his phone from his jeans and scrolled around it for a few seconds before handing it to me.

It was a kind of a contract, an agreement to release seven pictures along with a misleading and suggestive headline.

“Meghan asked me because her team want her to be related to a certain kind of people.” He explained, I knew that this is part of his job, and he was used to it before we got together.

“It’s a pap walk.” I said understanding what he meant, I wasn’t familiar to it because he hadn’t done one since we met.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. That’s what I wanted to tell you when I came the last time.” He took my hand to bring me closer to him while he continued explaining “I shouldn’t have agreed to it, but I realized of it too late and I wanted to talk to you before the pictures got release. I didn’t want you to feel disappointed or mad and don’t worry! I already asked her and Meghan to shut down any rumor.” He guided my legs to straddle him again. “I tried to bail out of it after what happened between us, but I just couldn’t.”

“Okay.” I felt relieved. I wasn’t ready to see him with someone else, and thank God, he said he wasn’t ready to date again.

“Let’s just put you to sleep, okay?” He said caressing my head and taking my hair away from my face. He saw my face and quickly he explained to me his change of mind.

“The girls are with Scott, but he has a flight to catch in a couple hours. I need to pick them up. Okay?” he said forcing me to look at him. “Hey! Listen to me I will call you as soon as they fall sleep, will that be okay?” he asked again.

I nodded, getting up. I thought he was going to leave right away but he did not. He uncovered the bed for me to get in and laid next to me for a few minutes.

“You will always be the one. I promise.” He slurred against my temple, after kissing it.

He left the room without waiting for an answer, he must have thought I was sleeping because he tried not to make many noises.

After a few hours, my phone rang, and I didn’t wait a second to respond.

“I wasn’t sure if you were going to be up.” he said. I could hear him closing a door. I haven’t been in his new house, but I know his style very well, enough at least, to imagine it.

“I’m a light sleeper.”

“I know.” He let go a sad laugh. “I wanted to call you early, but Anna was interrogating my ass about my quick trip of tonight.” he said cooling off the environment.

“Oh! Yeah! She can be very tough, it’s probably a phase.” I said with a smile, remembering the last time I had a quick conversation with our neighbor, and she thought I was dating him.

“Yeah! I guess, but I think we should check on her, maybe she’s experiencing anxiety because of the changes or something like that. I’ve been reading about kids with divorced parents can suffers these kinds of things.” I knew he was just worried about them; I was too, but right then I felt guilty, I felt like I did this to them.

“Okay” I murmured.

I was excited about his call, I wanted to figure it out what we could do to save this, but maybe it was too late. We held on everything for so long, and now it’s probably just too late.

“What do you want to do?” he asked calmly, completely away from my thoughts.

“I don’t know.”

“Tomorrow my sister is going to the lake house. She wanted me to take the girls, but I could let them go with her and we could hang out. I don’t know, we could have a kind of a date and talk, we could try to sort this out.”

“Okay.”

“Is everything alright?” I knew he was asking because of my monosyllabic answers.

“Yes, I’m just kind of sleepy.” I didn’t want to talk anymore.

“Okay.” his voice sounded disappointed now. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

“I love you” he said after a few seconds quiet.

I didn’t know what I was supposed to say, I loved him, but it felt like I was accepting everything, it felt like I was saying “yes, I broke us, our family”.

“Me too”

I couldn’t say much else. I said bye and hung up.

He picked me up at 7:00 p.m, he told he wanted to spend the day with the girls because they wanted to spend the night over there with their cousins. We decided to just have a dinner at his house in order to have more privacy and also, we could be in a kind of neutral environment since he doesn’t feel it like home, and I don’t even know the house.

“You want a tour?” he asked as soon as we got in the house. I nodded and followed him through the house. I wasn’t wrong about this style, the house it was almost a copy of ours, and it felt weird.

“It’s very similar to ours, isn’t?” I said softly, I wasn’t sure how he was going to take it.

“Yeah, I know, Scott said the same thing, but I don’t know, I’m living here, and this has to be home now.” He said and all at once I felt the guiltiness coming back to my body, it was like I kicked him out of his home.

“We have your favorite for dinner” he said completely unaware of my harmful thoughts.

“Great.” I didn’t want to spoil any possible progress.

He took my hand guiding me to the dinning room. We had a nice dinner, just talking about our past, when we met, when I got pregnant with Anna, when we took her to Disney for the first time… we had a happy life.

We talked about everything, but we didn’t talk about why we let this happened to us. It was like we weren’t seeing the big fat elephant in the room. After the dinner he took me outside to have the dessert in front the fireplace.

“Are you okay?” he asked worried, I wasn’t being very talkative, and he knows me well enough to let it pass.

“Yes.” I said taking a spoon of mousse.

He took my dessert from my hands.

“You sure?” he asked, forcing me to look at him by my chin. I just could nod; I didn’t know what else to do.

He took my chin to his head, kissing me deeply. He got his body closer to mine and his hand went to hip and the other one didn’t leave the back of my neck. I kept to his leading until I felt his hand get under my dress, touching my naked thigh. I pushed him away from me softly. I stood up and rubbed my face trying to find the right words.

“This is not my fault.” I dopped. He smiled in confusion.

“Well, I guess it’s not, I started to kiss you, but…” he started to say.

“I didn’t break us. I may have been the one who made it official, but you decided not to tell me what was going on.” As I said that his eyes went dark. I knew he was ready to fight back, I have seen those eyes too many times.

“It wasn’t exactly an easy journey, I couldn’t…” he was accepting that he blamed me. His voice also changed; it wasn’t the same voice he used to used when we were married. This one was ironic, rough, and mean, the one he use since we were divorced.

“Mine wasn’t easy either! It wasn’t just a rough patch for me, Chris. I felt you were abandoning me, and you knew what I was feeling.” My eyes were getting wet, and I tried to do everything not to cry.

“How I could have known that?” he sounded irritated, not just because he was talking louder but he also because his head was resting in his hands.

“Because I told you, Chris! I asked you to come back home million of times, and you rather take our daughters to the other side of the world than come back home with your wife.” I said, recalling the last time I asked him when he was going to be back. He didn’t answer, instead of that he set a whole plan. He made Scott flight to Boston to pick up the girls and then take them to Japan where he was filming his fifth film of the year.

“I was working…” He said with a different voice.

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” The air got cooler; we weren’t yelling anymore. He wasn’t looking at me when I started to walk out.

“I don’t think we can do this.” I said, ready to leave.

“We have to try it.” He caught my attention.

“Emma and Anna will be alright; they are fine now.” I’ve always thought that keeping kids in a unhappy marriage it’s way more dangerous that have a civilized divorce. I knew he was worried about them, but it wasn’t right.

“Not because of them, because I love you and I know you love me too.” He was right.

“Maybe it’s not enough anymore.”

“Yes, it is! It has to be! I don’t want to be alone the rest of my life and if it’s not with you I will be, don’t you see it? It’s been almost a year and I still thinking of you as my wife.” He stood up to get closer to me.

It broke my heart that he was right. I can’t imagine myself with another man, and it could be just a matter of time, but I honestly didn’t think so.

“How could this work? We’re going to end hating each other.” I said verbalizing one of my biggest fears.

“We won’t. I promise.” He said pulling my body to his arms.

@moonlacebeam @denisemarieangelina @lovebittenbyevans @popteest @aubageddon91 @hey-diddly-ho-neighborino @impala1967666 @firoozehmoon

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans imagine #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x wife!reader #Smut #chris evans fluff #fluff #CHRIS EVANS ANGST #angst

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twiceinadream · 4 years

Text

Twice React- S/O Makes Them Squirt

Requested: Yup

Request: Twices reaction to their s/o making them squirt

a/u: Hey, guys! Sorry I’ve been gone for so long I just couldn’t find the time in a day to write and I’m sorry that these are kinda all over the place it took two weeks to write and I finished like 4-5 of the members reactions today alone and it’s been a few months so I’m a little rusty on reacts. I also want to say thank you so much for 2.6k+ followers I can’t believe so many people actually like me. But, thank you all again, I love you all.

Category: NSFW and Fluff

Nayeon

“Oh my god.”

Nayeon gripped the bed sheets between her fingers tightly as your fingers continued pistoning in and out of her at a blinding pace. Her body shook with shocks of pure pleasure as you built her up to her third orgasm of the night, her euphoria a stone’s throw away as your fingers hooked into her frontal wall. You pressed into the spongy flesh making her scream as her nails dug into your shoulder, a surprised gasp leaving her lips as she felt liquid squirt from between her legs. Dripping down your fingers and arm as you looked up at her, “Huh, I knew I was good. But I didn’t know it was that good.”

Jeongyeon

“That’s new.”

Your girlfriend’s head was buried in your neck as you were both naked from the waist down, as she continued to grind down on your thigh. Her face a vibrant hue as she panted hotly into your ear, “Close.” You smirked as you flexed your thigh, the muscle bulging ever so slightly as it made contact with Jeongyeong’s clit, a surprised moan leaving her lips as she ground down harder. Her brain flooded with endorphins as her orgasm ripped through her, a splatter of wetness drenching your thigh as Jeong threw her head back letting out another high pitched whine before falling back into your arms. A surprised look painted your face as you stared at her in disbelief, “Are you okay?” Jeongyeon nodded sleepily, as she hummed into your shoulder, “Tired.” You snorted a little as you gently laid her back onto the bed, “I bet, just rest here.” You leaned down to kiss her forehead, “I’ll get you cleaned up.”

Momo

“That was hot.” (I also had to do a lot of [literal] weird ass research for this)

Momo was on her hands and knees as you eased a lubed finger in her back entrance, a low groan escaping her throat as you stretched her open. Making sure she was comfortable before lifting the string of beads, “Are you sure about this Momoring?” The Japanese girl nodded as you coated the toy in copious amounts of lube, “Okay, just tell me if you need to stop, okay?” Momo nodded again as you held the toy to her “back door”, her breath hitching as the first bead made its way into her practically virgin cavern. It took a while before you finally got the whole thing inside before picking up the remote next to you, you turned to the lowest setting sparking the beads to life as Momo moaned lowly enjoying the new feeling, “Doing okay?” Your girlfriend nodded shakily as you turned up the toy by two clicks, “Oh, god...yes.” You pressed down on the toy so it simultaneously hit her g-spot at the same time making Momo white knuckle the bed sheets, a loud moan reaching throughout the room as her body convulsed. Streams of her orgasm came shooting out as her body finally settled down, a light chuckle leaving Momo as you turned the toy off and made a move to take it out only to be stopped by your girlfriend, “You don’t want it out?” The dancer shook her head, “Leave it for now.” You chuckled as you came up to cuddle her, “Kinky.” Momo pushed you lightly, “Be quiet.”

Sana

“I didn’t know I could do that.”

Sana squirmed relentlessly under the vibrations of the Hitachi, it was placed squarely on her clit as you edged her closer and closer to her second orgasm. Bolts of pleasure shot up and down her spine as the Japanese girl clenched her teeth as she fought off an embarrassingly loud moan, her peak a few seconds away as you brought your mouth down to her breasts. You smirked before taking a hardened bud between your lips, placing a kiss on the areola as your teeth grazed the nipple ever so lightly. A hitched gasp sounded from above you as your girlfriend’s hand shot to your head, a stuttered moaning falling from her lips as her hips bucked into the toy. A rush of liquid squirting out onto your hand as Sana’s body rolled like a wave, running out her orgasm. When she finally settled back down you threw the toy to the side as you placed a kiss to her cheek, a blissful smile on her face, “Good?” Sana nodded as she curled into you, “So good.”

Jihyo

“What just happened?”

It had been a week since you had last let Jihyo cum and she was nearing the end of her rope. Your constant teasing didn’t help as she had to deal with whatever the female version of “blue balls'' was as you left her hanging for seven days straight. But as you looked at her in the lowlights of the restaurant you decided that she finally deserved her reward. She shot you a look as you picked up your phone, a devilish smile on your lips as you turned up the dial on the remote viabrator she was wearing. The brunette stifled a sudden moan as she glared at you from across the table, you cocked an eyebrow in faux concern, “Something the matter Jihyo-ah?” Your girlfriend resisted the urge to flick you off as she attempted to lift her spoon, “Not at all.” You shrugged, “Good. Cause I've been saying that you need to cum here or wait another week before we go out again.” Jihyo’s eyes widened as she understood what your words implied, you could see the apprehension in her eyes as you quickly added, “What’s your favorite color again?” The Korean girl glanced around the mostly empty restaurant, “Green.” You smiled as you turned the dial to its highest setting, her eyes fluttering closed as her grip on the spoon tightened. A week of pent up frustration about to be released in front of people as she suddenly felt a torrent of liquid rush out of her, her eyes flying open as you sensed what had happened. You cleared your throat as you turned off the toy, “You can borrow my jacket.”

Mina

“Wow.”

Mina stood knock-kneed in the kitchen as all plans of making dinner fell through the second you started playing with the setting of the egg vibrator you had placed inside of her earlier that evening. A scowl on her face as she held onto the countertop to prevent herself from collapsing under her weight, a sly smile on your face as you made your way towards her, “Need a little Minari.” Your girlfriend glared at you as she tried to stand up straighter only to have a surprised gasp fall from her mouth as you turned up the intensity, “Y/N, I ne...need to make din...dinner.” You shrugged, “Or, we can just skip to dessert?” Mina pursed her lips for a second before tackling you in a kiss, and before she knew it your head was between her thighs on the counter. The way your tongue suckled her clit made her squirm as it contrasted the coolness of the granite she was sitting on as you began playing with the settings again. The vibrations combined with the attention you were giving her with your tongue made the brunette let out a guttural moan as she suddenly felt like she began to pee, her body was wracked with jolts of pleasure as you felt your chin being drenched by her release. A bright blush covered Mina’s face as she saw what she had done, “Y/N I’m so sor…” before she could apologize you cut her off with a kiss, “No apologies, baby. That was hot.” Your girlfriend still hid her face with her hair, “You’re just saying that.” You shook your head as you placed a kiss to her cheek, “I’d never lie to you.”

Dahyun

“Geez.”

Dahyun’s body shook slightly as she laid back into the pillows, her fingers teasing her clit through the fabric of her panties as you sat at the end of the bed a small wet spot forming at the front of her underwear as you smirked, “Take your panties off and present yourself for me.” Your girlfriend blushed slightly but did as she was told, a small string of arousal was connected to the fabric as she threw over the side of the bed, pushing her knees up so she was spread out for you. “Now, touch yourself.” Dahyun’s hand snaked its way down her body till she made contact with her drenched opening, her breathing stuttered as she sank a finger into herself, a soft squelch filled the room as she added another finger. Her other hand coming down to play with her clit as a bright blush dusted her cheeks, her arousal building as you watched in awe. “C...can I come?” Your girlfriend looked at you with half-lidded eyes as you pondered it for a second, her peak climbing at an alarming rate, “What's the magic word?” Dahyun squeezed her eyes shut as she continued working her fingers in and out of herself, “Pl..please? Please. Pl...please!?” Her voice raised an octave as you smiled, “Cum for me Dahyunnie.” The raven hairs girl let out a load moan as her body seized, her vision filled with white as a stream of liquid shot out from between her thrusting fingers. You looked at each other in shock as she fell back into the pillows, you quickly scrambled up to her as you placed a kiss to her sweaty forehead, “Good girl.”

Chaeyoung

“That was amazing!”

You had your girlfriend strapped down to a chair as you circled her with a Hitachi in one hand and a riding crop in the other, you ran the leather toy up Chae’s thigh making her shudder as you placed a light swat to the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh, “You’ve been a bad girl this week Chaengie. Haven’t you?” The blonde squirmed in her bonds as she hissed at the hit you landed on her other thigh, “Y..yes.” You hummed as you moved behind her, your hands running down her shoulders before you took both her breasts into your hands, squeezing the flesh lightly as Chaeyoung leaned into the touch right before you pulled away making her whimper. “Good girls get rewards,” You turned on the wand and held it down to your girlfriend’s neglected sex for the first time this evening, a surprised gasp leaving her lips as her toes curled against the hardwood, “do you deserve a reward?” Chae’s fingers curled around the silk holding her down as you continued holding the toy against her, “Only if you th..think I d..do.” You held back a smile as you leaned down to her ear, “Good answer.” The blonde heaved in a breath as she felt her peak rising, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she held back from screaming, “May I cum?” You pretended to look up in thought as Chaeyoung begged louder, “Y/N-ah please let me cum! I can’t, I can’t, I..” Before she could continue you cut her off, “Cum Chaeng.” The idol threw her head back in ecstasy as spurts of liquid sprayed from her pussy, a guttural moan falling from her lips as her release finally died down, a relieved smile on her face as you turned off the toy, “Wow.” You laughed lightly ruffling her hair, “Wow indeed.”

Tzuyu

“I…”

Tzuyu’s eyes fluttered close as she pushed down on your head, her pleasure building as you took her clit into your mouth. You sucked on the small bundle of nerves as she let out a loud moan, her knuckles turning white as her nails dug into your shoulder, “Y/N I’m gonna…!” Before she could finish her sentence her release came flooding out of her like a tidal wave, soaking your chin and the bedsheets. The Taiwanese girl’s eyes went wide as she stared down at you, a look of disbelief on her face as you laughed lightly, “What?” Tzuyu blinked, “Did I just?” You nodded, swiping your tongue across your lips to gather the wetness still there, “Yes you did. And it was hot.” At your words your girlfriend blushed brightly as you fell into a fit of laughter, “Not funny Y/N!”

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spencersawkward · 4 years

Note

hi i love your writing sm, could u do something w having sex w mgg in his trailer🦋

oh yes i can most definitely do that. i just did a blurb that included something similar but i have a whole other fantasy for this one that i think would be so hot. this is just like filthy smut i might have done a lil too much lol.

summary: reader goes to visit her friend, Matthew, on set. when he catches her doing something dirty in his trailer, he offers to help.

word count: 4.2k

relationship: Fem!Reader/Matthew

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, masturbation, dirty talk, face-sitting, degradation, Cocky Matthew, some semi-exhibitionism.

masterlist

my toes curl over the sheets and I let out a dissatisfied groan as I throw the abandoned vibrator onto the side table. ever since flying home from visiting friends in New York, I’ve been absolutely, embarrassingly... horny.

usually, my trusty toy is able to work wonders; this week has been rough, though. maybe it’s something to do with my stress-levels or maybe my body just doesn’t feel like cooperating. it doesn’t help that I have about an hour before I’m scheduled to visit my friend on the set of his show.

I haven’t seen Matthew in almost a year. between his shooting schedule and my own job getting more demanding, spending time together really hasn’t been possible. I miss his laugh and the way our conversations always flow so easily. whenever we hang out, it’s like we pick up right where we left off. and now, as I give up on trying to get one off before seeing him, I start to wonder what to expect. a tour? meeting his castmates?

to be completely honest, I don’t really want to do any of that. I’m sure they’re all very nice people and we’d have a good time, but the last week in the city was so full of group interactions that I’m really hoping to sit across from each other and just... talk.

there’s no point in speculating, though. instead, I glance over at my disappointing toy and sigh. maybe next time.

when I get there, Matthew texts me to wait for him so he can bring me to his trailer. everyone is bustling around, moving according to their own chaotic schedules. a couple golf carts occasionally roll through the space, toting actors and other personnel. it’d be overwhelming for anyone who isn’t used to it.

“Y/N!” Matthew’s voice cuts across the din of the set as he waves. he’s leaning out of the side of a golf cart that he’s driving, which makes me nervous as he pulls up to me. I raise my eyebrows in surprise as he stops the cart and hops out to wrap me in a hug.

he smells good, like expensive cologne and cool air. as he withdraws, he sets his hands on my shoulders and grins at me.

“you look great! how are you?” as usual, he’s talkative. I smile back, though, and take in his appearance. he’s always been handsome, but right now Matthew is looking especially good: the breeze has swept his curls, he’s got on a colorful button-up short-sleeve with parakeets on it, and there’s some stubble growing on his face that’s new. he looks older, more mature.

kind of sexy.

“I’m really well. cool ride you’ve got.” I nod to the golf cart and Matthew laughs.

“you wanna know a secret?” he smirks. I raise my eyebrows and he leans down a little to reach my height. “I’m not supposed to drive that.”

“how’d you get it?” I frown. knowing him, he probably managed to charm his way around the rules, but I’m sure there’s a funny story behind it as well. he’s full of weird anecdotes.

“one of my cast mates distracted the guy who runs the warehouse where they keep them.” he winks, then gestures for me to follow him. I slide into the passenger seat and before I can really process what’s happening, he’s swerving in a wide circle and speeding off.

“I’ve been meaning to call you,” he practically yells over the sound of the motor. “but I know you’ve been busy.”

“yeah, I actually just started writing for this new show.”

“you’re downtown, then?” he glances over with a smile and then we’re slowing to a stop. an enormous trailer sits among rows of other enormous trailers, presumably for his cast mates. he turns off the cart and turns his body to face me while I talk. zeroes in on me in a way that makes my stomach flip.

“for right now, yeah.” I can’t help the smile. it’s been a while since I’ve worked in Los Angeles; I was working as a writer on one of Matthew’s independent films when I got an offer in New York and decided to relocate. and even though it was amazing there, I missed California sunshine and I missed him. we were inseparable before I left.

“so, what I’m hearing is that you’re now legally bound to hang out with me.” he grins in that dazzling way of his. I laugh and nod, climbing out when he does. he opens the trailer door for me. “I have to go back to work in about twenty minutes, but afterwards I wanna take you to dinner.”

“oh, I could have come later. I’m sorry.” I turn to apologize, but he’s quick to wave it off.

“it’s fine. as long as you don’t mind spending an hour in here, it shouldn’t be too torturous.”

I peer around the space, noticing the little ways in which Matthew has made this place his own: aside from all the complimentary gift baskets and notes, the trailer is occupied by strange trinkets that he’s collected, random books and notebooks that scatter the couch and what looks like an attempt at a desk.

“wow.” I say. he sidles up next to me, sighing and realizing that it’s a bit cluttered.

“sorry about the mess. I haven’t really had time to clean up.”

“no, no, I meant ‘wow’ in a good way.” I walk over to the couch and sit down, patting the spot next to me. he smiles, pushes an acting theory book out of the way, and sinks into the cushions a safe distance from me.

“tell me about this job, then.” he immediately starts. I shrug.

“it’s nothing huge, just a teen drama. everyone I work with is brilliant, though.”

“that’s amazing. have you had a chance to work on your art?”

I think back to all the times when Matthew and I would spend free afternoons doing doodle competitions of the crew, usually on random scripts. they were judged by other cast mates, anyone who would take the time to look. I don’t think I was supposed to be on set as much as I was, but it was worth it.

“I wish. my schedule is so busy now, I barely have time to make dinner for myself.” I laugh. he leans back into the corner of the couch, resting his arm on top of the back. I pull one leg beneath me and mirror his actions.

“that’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing some new stuff.”

“I don’t think any of my co-workers would particularly enjoy the representations I do of them.”

“sour sports.” he says. the strangeness and vehemence of the sentiment makes me snort and I glance at the notebooks around the room.

“how about you? any new masterpieces?”

we go on like this for a while, just catching up and slipping into our inside jokes and memories as if they aren’t from a different time in our lives. although I was excited to see him today, there was a lingering nervousness about it going as planned. sometimes you try to reconnect and the spark is just... gone. but Matthew is still Matthew, and I’m still me.

he ends up leaving to go shoot sooner than I can believe, time passing quickly, and tells me to feel free to read any of his books or look through his sketchbooks. he never hides anything, and it’s admirable.

once he’s gone, I settle onto the couch with a used Ray Bradbury anthology that I found beneath a bag of sour candies and start to read.

my mind wanders, however, as I try to concentrate on the page. I think about how Matthew looks now, how the stubble makes his jaw even more defined. those wide, hazel eyes that always seem to glitter with enthusiasm. I don’t know if I’m still frustrated from the unsuccessful session with my vibrator earlier, but the thoughts begin to turn over in my mind and mingle with other ones.

there were moments with him that I remember, quiet ones where we’d be about to say goodnight or moments where he’d fall asleep on my shoulder in my apartment, where I’d look at him and consider the possibility. we get on so well, and he’s arguably one of my best friends. distance hasn’t changed that. there are things I would tell him that I haven’t told my other friends.

and when he’d brush against my skin, or grab my arm to get my attention, and my imagination would run wild. heated kisses and closed doors. finding the way to my bed in the dark, his hands on my waist while he crawls on top of me. things that never happened but that I imagined as if they were real memories seared into my mind.

and now, sitting in this trailer with this book and on this couch that smells like him, those feelings return like something lost, then found: rushing, feverish, overpowering. the images come in a flux, his weight on top of mine and his teeth dragging over my tits. on this couch, that’s all I want.

there’s a blush on my cheeks as I drop the book on the floor and undo the button on my pants. it won’t take me long; I can feel how wet I’m getting and I haven’t even thought that much about it. the pent-up excitement from earlier will overtake my senses. he said I have an hour, and this might take ten minutes tops.

as my fingertips brush over my panties, I close my eyes and imagine they’re his. curious, gentle, teasing before reaching below the waistband and cupping me. I whimper, starting to trace over the wet folds of my entrance with an eager hand. it feels good, right, and the heat of my body tells me that this time, it’ll work. my head is full of thoughts of him, and I dip a finger in, clenching around the digits. the heel of my palm presses into my clit and I moan, starting to work myself.

I imagine Matthew coming in here after he’s done and kissing me like he’s wasted enough time waiting; like he can’t wait another second to be with me. my pace quickens at the memory of his hands, veined and strong and sure, pumping into me. taunting me.

“Matthew...” I whine, removing my fingers to circle my clit with a hurried pressure. every second burns across my skin, reminding me that what I’m doing is wrong. I shouldn’t be touching myself in his trailer while he works, especially not when he’s coming back soon.

but it’s hot, too, and the rhythm I create is impossible to resist. I switch between fingering and toying with my bundle of nerves while clenching my free hand in the couch cushion. my eyes are squeezed shut as I get closer to orgasm, the knot in my stomach tightening with every moment.

“o-oh my god,” I hum. “Matthew--”

the sharp intake of breath makes my entire body freeze. my eyes fly open to see the bastard himself standing there, lips parted. he can’t seem to figure out where to look: my face, which was just contorted in pleasure while I moaned his name, or my pussy, which is almost completely on display now that I’ve managed to push my jeans down to my knees.

“oh my god.” I stutter, immediately removing my hand and sitting up. my cheeks are on fire and everything around me seems surreal. this can’t be real. “y-you weren’t supposed to be back for an hour.” I say stupidly. shit ton of luck that hour did me.

“we, uh, wrapped early.” he averts his eyes, then glances cautiously at my face. “I promise I walked in here before I knew. I never meant--”

“no, it’s fine.” I pull up my jeans, still too shocked to make any sweeping movements. he doesn’t seem quite sure what to do with himself, and I speak to break the silence. “sorry, I know I shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wonder what you’d have done with an actual hour.” he says it like he’s attempting to lighten the mood, then winces as he realizes that he shouldn’t have said that. “sorry, bad joke. I’m just-- surprised.”

“Matthew, I’m so sorry--” I start. there’s literally no other direction to take this conversation. I feel like I’ve ruined our friendship within the span of a few seconds.

“were you saying my name?” he asks, eyebrows slightly raised. I would like to sink into the floor and never come up again, I think.

“well, the thing is--” I take a deep breath. “I don’t normally, um... do that in people’s trailers?” my frown makes him smile a little as he relaxes. now that I’m fully clothed, he doesn’t seem so daunted. I scoot up on the couch and glance between the open spot and him to get him to sit. standing only makes it weirder.

he obliges, watching me pull my knees into my chest before I start to explain. guilt is building in my chest now, so much more real after being caught.

“I don’t wanna make this even more awkward than it is, but I feel like I should make it clear that there’s a reason why I was doing it in here and I’m not some freak who, like, contaminates people’s space. like, I was just gonna be super quick about it and be done because-- and now I’m justifying it, which is even worse--”

“hey, Y/N, relax.” Matthew reaches out and touches my wrist, his fingers soft as they pull my attention to his. when I finally muster the courage to look him in the eyes, he’s got a small smile on his face. “I’m not mad or anything.”

“okay.” I sigh, spine going a little less rigid.

“you were moaning my name, though, right?” he smirks. my eyes widen.

“don’t get too cocky,” I try to play it off. “I haven’t been able to get off for the past few days and I only tried it to see if it would work.”

“looks like it did.” he glances between my flushed cheeks and the hand that was playing with myself, which is now sitting on my jeans. how is he being so fucking smooth right now?

“whatever.” I turn my face away, knowing that anything else would be damning.

“are you still... frustrated?” he asks. his voice is low. my face snaps up, jaw dropping. one of his hands is covering the crotch of his jeans, trying to hide something.

“why?”

“I can help you out. only if you want to, of course.” he says this in complete seriousness. my gaze passes over his features once again to make sure I’m not absolutely dreaming. every line in his face, the intensity of those pretty irises, feels too real to be fake.

“like...” I think about his hands, about what he’s offering. it’s heavier than just sex, but also maybe not. it doesn’t have to be; we’re adults. our friendship wouldn’t be shattered by one encounter.

“like I’ll eat you out right now and fuck you until you can’t take it anymore.” we’ve moved closer on the couch, our faces inches apart while he says it so quietly that I wouldn’t hear it otherwise. the way he licks his lips, stares at me, tells me that we’ve already passed the point of no return. there’s no use in holding back anymore.

“mhmm.” I nod. if I say anything more, I’ll reveal more than he wants to know. that I’ve wanted this for a while, even though I tried to forget the way he makes me feel.

“come here, then.” he beckons me forward and I impatiently crash my lips to his. he responds immediately, threading his fingers through my hair and pulling me to him. he’s greedy, but not in a way that overwhelms. like he’s trying to enjoy the moment. his nose brushes my cheek when he deepens the kiss, my hands looping around his neck. he begins to bite on my lower lip, tugging to get me to moan. I let him explore me, those features that he’s seen so many times but has never touched.

we’re hopeful in our embrace, and my mind feels like spring and how I imagine the earth feels when it’s in full bloom. excitement in my veins as we get more heated. when his fingers unbutton my jeans, he pulls away to take a moment.

“sit on my face.” he breathes out, feverish. I nod, getting up to shrug off my jeans. he watches, licking his lips when I pull down my panties and step out of them, then take off my top and bra. he leans back as if to sink down onto the couch for me, but I shake my head.

“take off your clothes first.” I tell him.

“you wanna see me naked?” he knows the truth, but wants me to say it. the smirk on his face makes me annoyingly aroused. I just start to go for the buttons on his shirt.

“yeah, I wanna see you naked.” I reply. this makes him grin and he helps me out by working on his jeans. we strip him down and then we’re both there, looking at each other.

“c’mere, beautiful.” he grabs my hip and pulls me closer until I get on the couch and position myself. he lies down flat, gesturing for me to scoot up his chest until my core is right above his face. “perfect.”

I’m about to poke a little fun at him for being so confident when he reaches up, wraps his hands around my thighs, and pulls me down against his face.

I yelp, overwhelmed by how he moans against my heat and starts to eat me out. his tongue moves expertly, lapping at the wetness that’s gathered between my legs before teasing my entrance. I release a series of noises that are downright sinful, but the red marks he’s leaving in my thighs tell me he’s loving my reaction. his nose brushes against my clit and I start to roll my hips against his face, falling apart already as he switches between sucking, licking, and sliding his tongue inside me. I grip onto his hair, mumbling like a prayer.

he takes the opportunity to quickly slap my ass before returning to my thighs, burying his face and working with a divine acuity. I can’t believe how good it feels, throwing my head back and arching my spine while I hold my tits. Matthew moves my hand and massages one while he stares up into my eyes, lust evident in every sound and motion.

“Matthew, please--” I gasp. “don’t stop.”

he groans, running his nails down my stomach while I ride his face. I’m needy for him, only uttering his name and more pleas for his tongue. and the sensation of him holding me down like he can’t get enough makes the knot from earlier return easily. I lean back a little, swirl my hips, and then it comes like a white-hot wave.

“oh my god—“ I can barely get it out, moving with abandon. “it’s so fucking good.”

he lets my body slow to a reasonable pace, drawing out the high until I’m swallowing all the air I can get and pull myself away from him. Matthew’s grinning, mouth glistening while he sits up a bit.

“such a wet little pussy.” he tells me, licking his lips. I’m pretty much resting on his chest and I start to move off of him when he quickly straightens himself, wraps his arms around my waist, and pushes me so I’m laying on my back at the other end of the couch with him leaning over me.

I brush his curls out of his face, appreciating the hunger in his face. he craves more of me, and the erection he’s pressing into my inner thigh is proof. I look up at him.

“you’re good.” I concede. he shrugs, smiles. butterflies.

“I just think about it a lot.” the response is simple, but it’s the right one. I blush and he grabs his dick, pumping it a few times before lining it up at my entrance. I search his eyes, those widened pupils, as he shoves into me.

“shit.” he moans, jaw dropping once he’s reaching the hilt. “give it to me, baby.” I can feel him deep inside, cock twitching against my walls as he settles. one of his arms is over me, supporting himself on the arm of the couch, while the other holds my waist.

I don’t speak, only bite down on my lip and whimper through the initial shocks of him. it isn’t until he pulls out that I get more vocal. he starts to roll his hips, never breaking eye contact while I arch my back and moan.

“harder.” I whisper. he tightens his grip on me and slams himself inside. my body instinctively moves up away from the pressure, but he brings me right back down.

“is this what you were thinking about?” he breathes out. “me fucking you like a slut?”

I nod urgently, but he uses an index finger to tilt my face back to his.

“tell me who you belong to, little slut.” his tone is low, laced with lust when he bites his lip and watches my reactions to his cock.

“you.” I whine quietly, grabbing his shoulders for stability while he plows into me.

“louder, sweetheart. you were plenty sure before.” he mocks, pausing after to moan in my ear like he’s absolutely losing it. he roughly tugs me further against him and the sensation makes me cry out.

“y-you-- fuck!”

“c’mon, baby.” he pants. we’re definitely rocking this trailer with the way he’s ramming my body right now. I can feel him like he’s in my ribs.

“Matthew, oh god--”

“show me how you cum, Y/N. lemme see you fucking break.” the final word is punctuated by him bottoming-out within me, his noises their own stimulation to my senses. I’m trying to breathe but it’s so hard with all the thoughts firing in my brain. he doesn’t go easy on me.

“I’m cumming.” my hips jerk up into his, pussy fluttering like it’s trying to push him out. but the tension only makes him thrust harder, further, chasing his own release as I claw at his back and squeeze my legs around his torso.

“can I fill that tight little cunt up, baby?” he moans into my ear, our bodies like undulating waves. I nod and buck against him, which drives him mad as his thrusts get sloppier. we’re filthy together and it’s otherworldly. “good girl.”

he lets out a whimpering sound while he stills inside my body and cums. I feel him twitching, shooting his load into me. I’m writhing while I clench around him, both of us falling apart. for all his cockiness, he’s lovely when he’s orgasming-- mouth open, eyes rolling back into his head before focusing intently on my face, a sheen of sweat that glows on his cheekbones.

when he finally withdraws, leaving me naked and panting on his couch, his eyes run over my body appreciatively.

“that help?” he smirks as he straightens. I glare at him, kneeing him in the ribs, and he leans down to kiss my cheek, giving me a tender look. “I’m joking. are you okay?”

“more than okay.” I smile. he doesn’t say anything for a moment, closing and opening his mouth as if debating whether or not to say something else.

“you’re really beautiful, you know that?”

“thanks.” as if this man hasn’t already fucked me senseless, I blush, look away shyly. he grabs my clothes from the floor and hands them to me.

“do you want some water?” he’s worried about giving me space. there’s a question lingering between us that I’m afraid to ask, especially now that he hasn’t. Matthew has always been the more bold between the two of us.

“uh, sure.” if it means he takes his eyes off me long enough for me to regain my bearings, yes. I watch him pull on the rest of his clothes before standing and going over to his mini-fridge. I’ll need to clean up soon.

“so...” his voice is measured, hazel eyes slipping over my form.

“so.”

“dinner? and then breakfast?” he suggests. my eyebrows raise at the second question, one that he hasn’t mentioned until now. the implication makes me laugh.

“you think you’re getting this again?” I try to act nonchalant, as if I’m not already imagining it.

“oh, wait--” he frowns, hesitates. “that’s not what I meant.”

“what did you mean?” there’s a grin taking over my face, hopeful as I await his response. I guess we’re about to answer that question after all.

“I wanna finally take you on a date.” he smiles softly, surprisingly shy. I don’t even hesitate to answer.

“I’m in.”

#mgg smut #mgg #matthew gray gubler #rpf #criminal minds #mgg oneshot

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imagineryupfuckedworld · 3 years

Text

Different kind of Company #4

Here is part 4. I hope you enjoy reading it. I wanted to remind that this is pure fiction and not everything is after the canon timeline. Some things are changed, also I am not a native english speaker, so please respect that and have that in mind when you're reading this. Please enjoy! Bonnie.....did not lay there anymore where he was supposed to lay. He..just...vanished. Poff. Just like that. The boys look as confused as you do. Where was the stuffed toy? It should be there. Laying unmovable because a toy can't walk. Your thoughts raced. Your suspicion getting more and more confirmed. If Bonnie wasn't a real monster, he would have not vanished and would have been stepped on. But that is not the case. You hastily looked around. Your eyes scanning the area for the possible pink, glowing eyes that you always stare at, at night. The ones, that made your breath hitch the first time you saw it. You couldn't find them. Is he playing? Is he hiding himself to take them into the darkness? The thoughts in your young mind are running wild. Your imagination begun to go crazy. The Boys also begun to search. You vaguely registered how one of them talks to you, screaming if you're doing this. Shaking you at your shoulders but your mind couldn't focus on him. All that came to halt when you guys heard a voice “Well well well, it seems like you lost that, little miss.” your eyes slowly looked to the source of that new deep voice. This was clearly a voice that doesn't suit a child. Out of the shadow came a man, much taller than you. Taller than your dad but lean, almost skinny. He had a weird Uniform. Not one that a waiter would wear. Maybe the manager? It was too dark to clearly see him. Your first instinct was, to look at his eyes. Searching for a hint of pink but there wasn't. You released your breath silently which you had been holding out of fear of making a noise. Whoever this was, this wasn't Bonnie. So you think and still. There was an unsettling feeling deep in your gut. A feeling you know too well. It was the same feeling you got when your brother and his friends are around, looking at you. It was your gut screaming to run. Run far and fast. Very fast. But you don't know why? This man seems nice, nice enough to give you back Bonnie who was now back safe in your arms. The tall man smiled at you and the boys. “Did you all get lost?” He asked kindly. A warm tone and a nice smile on his fave. So why did your gut still scream to run. The boys seemed like they have overcome their surprise and shook their head. “No, we just searched for her. We're going now!” your brother took you by the arm, dragging you out behind him. Your eyes are still glued to the weird man who was waving you goodbye. You raised your hand meekly and waved back before your brother yanked again. “Come one, dipshit. Your luck there was an adult.” you didn't really register his hissing when you stepped through the big double door. The light of the dinning hall blending you. You squinted your eyes and tried not to trip while you getting dragged behind. Your brothers doesn't even bother to look if you're okay. He just keeps going till you're both by your parents who where engrossed in their talk with some of the other parents. Your father noticed that you are now there, taking his son an his lap and including him while you were left standing there. Not knowing what to do. Like always. You turned around, looking back at the door. You couldn't get the man out of your mind. The little legs of yours begun to move. Like a machine, they kept walking until you were right in front of a waitress. You tapped her softly, waiting patiently so that you wouldn't be rude. “What can I do for you, sweetie?” Her voice was nice, much kinder than the man. You told her about that man, asking if he was the manager. The young woman looked at you questioningly. She never heard of that man before. Thinking it was your imagination, she chuckled lightly and patted your head. Telling you, that you must have imagine that and went back to work, leaving you there. Completely confused.

There....was no such man who worked there? You wanted to run after her, asking her more about that when your parents called you and your sister so you could go. You didn't even realized how late it got. You were longer inside that hallway than you thought. You trotted slowly over, still pondering over that man. The whole ride and even while you had dinner. Your brain couldn't leave that alone. You decided to talk to your brother to confirm that you weren't imagining things. You should have known that this wouldn't end well. “What do you want, dipshit?” You resisted to roll your eyes and ignored him calling you that. “You saw that weird man too, right?” A few seconds went by. “Did you hit your head or somethin'? There was no one.” “Wha-? You even said I was lucky that an Adult was there!” “Dunno what you talkin' 'bout.” “You're lying! Why? I just wanted to confirm something.” “I am not lying! You're just dumb!” “Can you stop insulting me please!” “Or what?” you don't know what it was. If it was the insults he always throws at you. Maybe it was the shit eating grin he wore. You don't know but you shoved him roughly. “I am going to fucking kill you!” Your brother looked at you dumbfounded. You were surprised equally. It was something fairly new for you to fight back but to even resolve to physical contact? That never happened. You did never do that because you know, you would get punished no matter what. So your brother always used it, that you wouldn't fight back. No wonder, he was surprised but the surprise didn't hold long. “How dare you, you little shit?!” He shoved you back, right into a wall. Your back begun to hurt but the anger was bigger. “I said stop it!” You swung your fist. The very first time you used violence. The very first time you spilled blood. Your little fist connected with his nose. Hard. It seemed like the adrenalin in your body gave you enough strength to broke your brothers nose. Both your eyes went wide. Tears formed into his. He grinded his teeths to hold back the sobs. He isn't a crybaby unlike you. But that crybaby has broken his nose. You were frozen. Your mind registering what you did. The funny thing is, you are not scared of punishment. You do not feel bad for your brother. No, the opposite. You feel giddy. It was weird. You feel so excited at the sight of the blood gushing out of his nose. Your eyes slowly look down onto your fist, then back to your brother. Is this, how he always feels? This excitement? It was.....a pleasant feeling. You were awoken from your deluded state when you hear the voice of your mother. Your brother quickly got up and you run out of the room. Hiding behind the door, to hear if you were in trouble. You mother shrieked when she saw her beloved son bleeding. Asking, if he was okay. Instead of snitching your brother insisted that he was okay and just ran into a wall. It seems like the humiliation he felt from getting punched by his little sister is bigger than his desire for her to punished. You felt how a grin was crawling onto your lips but you tried to hide it very fast. What you did not notice were the pink eyes who seemed to be watching you intensely.

#different kind of company #fnaf #five nights at freddy's x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #x reader #child reader #bonnie the bunny #chica the chicken #foxy the fox #freddy fazbear

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vagrantblvrd · 4 years

Text

In the vein of those Din and Luke meet on Tatooine before they live the Star Wars?

I propose that Din is the ~sweetheart from back home story Luke tells people if they ask about that kind of thing, you know?

Nineteen year-old Luke who gets tossed into the deep end whe he joins the Rebellion, right?

Farm boy from Tatooine in a starfighter squadron filled with people like Wedge and Janson.

And all the hurry up and wait that happens, and a card game that springs up between missions. Some late night somewhere - Hoth, maybe - and it was just a little too much to toss and turn all night in the bunks, maybe tale a stroll through base. Stop by the hangar because someone’s always there - weather lie this you can bet someone’s fixing something or adapting it to make it work in these conditons, and anyway, anyway.

Hell of a lot better than being stuck with your own thoughts you know backwards and front.

So anyway, one of those kind of card games, you know? The ones where people don’t ask why you look so damn tired or comment on how jumpy you are because they’ve all been there. (It’s a war, everyone loses sleep, everyone has nightmares. Everyone’s lost someone, or worry about losing someone and anyway. They get it.)

Janson’s just finished some story about a girl he knew from somewhere, before he joined the Rebellion and the trouble they both go up to and the fond memories he has due to all that.

Swings over to Wedge who sighs and gives Janson this look because he just won’t stop about it, and Luke only half hears the story because he catches a glimpse of Han stomping by, scowl on his face the way he gets sometimes.

(Another fight with Leia, probably, that Luke’s at that stage of things where the thought doesn’t sting so much anymore, thinks he actually likes this better anyway, because he’s seen the way Han looks at her and anyway.)

Luke goes over to where Han’s stomping around the Falcon, muttering and swearing and Chewie’s who knows where, maybe that still in one of the storage levels helping people who are totally not involved with it refine the end product or some such, Luke wouldn’t know.

Takes a while for Han to notice he’s there and when he does Luke almost rolls his eyes at the whole...Drama bit he does. Trying to get Luke on his side, paint himself as the innocent in the scenario - which, if he was? He wouldn’t be trying nearly this hard to convince Luke, so.

Luke lets him vent for a bit and when Han runs out of steam, starts to look a little lost like he has no idea how the hell whatever argument he and Leia had got so out of hand he stormed off the way he did -

“You up for a game of sabacc?”

Because Han tells anyone who’ll listen just how good at it he is, no one better for parsecs around, and anyway.

Better that that be left alone with his thoughts, right?

So Luke brings Han into the game, and Wedge and Janson give Luke this look because the whole Drama between him, Han, and Leia is the best entertainment they’ve had in a long, long time, and anyway.

“You got one?” Wedge asks, looking at Luke over his cards, like an absolute bastard, because of course that catches Han’s interest.

“Got what?”

Luke is like, oh, no, but Wedge is smirking at him and Janson’s no better and then there’s Han who is worse than all of them put together.

“Sweetheart from back home,” Wedge says,and he and Han share this look - it has to be a Corellian thing - and Luke.

“...I wouldn’t say he’s my sweetheart,” Luke says, and the way his face feels he has to be blushing. “But, uh. There was someone.”

And, okay.

He’s not so clueless he doesn’t know the reputation Mandalorians have with most people, has heard Han talking about this one in particular that pops up in his life every so often.

Mostly though, it’s kind of.

He just doesn’t want other people having this piece of his life, you know? Things are weird enough after Yavin and the Death Star and the Rebellion and Luke’s role in all that and he didn’t ask for any of that, could do without it, but he’s just the guy they ask to smile and post of pictures and...yeah.

SO.

He tells them this story about that time he was in Mos Eisley, right? He had this part-time job working in a hangar for someone named Peli when the farm wasn’t doing well.

Han looks at Luke as he mentions that, this slow realization on his face because look, okay, look.

Han’s met some nice girls - and maybe boys, who knows - like that, ones he had a good time with before moving on and Luke is steadfastly not looking at anyone at the table. (Cargo crate with an old tarp thrown over it to make it just that much more classy and all.)

Focused real intent on his cards and Han is both impressed and a little horrified because one, he never would have expected something like that from Luke - look at the kid, for crying out loud! - and two? That’s Luke. Like a kid brother and Han knows the kind of guys (and girls) who meet sweet kids like him in places like that - look at Han!

Anyway, Han keeps his mouth shut and lets Luke tell his story. Glances at Wedge and the others who all look the same mix of impressed and horrified because Luke, and almost gives himself away by laughing because yeah, the dumb kid gets to people like that, doesn’t he.

Luke, though He knows his friends, looks up and give them looks. “It wasn’t like that,” he says, because most of the time it really wasn’t like that.

He met a lot of interesting people back then, that’s all.

So anyway, back to Luke’s story about this guy he met working for Peli.

Drifter, you know? Not the chatty sort, but not rude about it. Just. Not much to say to anyone, which was fine Luke made up for it himself just fine.

Anyway.

This guy comes in with his ship all chewed up - literally, Luke finds out later when he pries a tooth jammed into one of the landing struts when the guy mentioned it didn’t fully retract - and this tired sigh.

Peli set Luke on the guy’s ship, told him that since he didn’t want droids near the damn thing he’d trust her to know what her people could do and that Luke would be just fine fixing his ship, so, you know.

That was a thing to watch.

And then Luke gets to work, has to call home to let them know he won’t be back that night because he’s got a big job in the works and the guy needs it done ASAP and there’s a couch in Peli’s office she lets him sleep on when stuff like this happens.

He’s still working when the guy gets back from...doing whatever it is he was doing, Luke knows better to ask, and Luke is like.

He knows ships, you know? Knows machines, a hell of a lot better than people sometimes, and they don’t make fun of him, don’t stick him with dumb nicknames.

So he’s working on the guy’s ship, maybe talking to it to, fond little pats when he’s done with a repair or comes across some old repair job someone did that’s coming apart. And it’s not like anyone told him not to take care of that while he’s there and all, you know?

Peli said get his ship fixed, and maybe she meant the newer stuff, but Luke is there and it’ll just take a second and really, the ship’s old, been through a lot. Fixing this one little thing with all the rest won’t hurt anyone and it’ll keep her flying a little longer, and just. No harm to it.

And then the guy is just kind of there?

Watching Luke being a weird guy, talking to his ship like it’s a person, finding small things wrong with it that haven’t set up an alarm anywhere yet, but Luke just knows. Like a splinter under your skin you don’t realize is there just yet but something’s not right, that kind of deal.

Gives Luke this look, right, but Luke shrugs and spins some nonsense about older ships like his and these common issues they share as part of the manufacturing process and might as well take care of it now before it becomes a problem, right? No extra charge, something on the house since the repairs that were asked for are so extensive.

Anyway.

Luke ends up chattering a bit when he realizes the guy doesn’t mind? Doesn’t always answer Luke but he doesn’t tell him to shut up or pull a blaster to intimidate him the way some of them do, and anyway.

Luke finishes the repairs around dawn, dead on his feet and wishes him luck before he goes off to catch some sleep on Peli’s couch before he heads home to the farm.

Doesn’t think much about the whole thing, but then a few months later the same ship ends up in Peli’s hangar. In better shape this time, just needs a once-over, make sure everything’s running fine and fuel.

And the guy, okay.

Gives Luke this little nod on his way off to do whatever, doesn’t stop to ask Peli if she’s sure Luke’s good at his job, and he gets this. Nothing warm and squishy, he barely knows the guy, but it’s a pleased feeling knowing that at the very least he trusts Luke’s work.

Luke’s done by the time the guy gets back, but it’s one of those days where he’s not keen on getting back to the farm - Uncle Owen asked him to stay behind a year to help out, just a little longer and he’s.

Upset at being left behind by the others, by being stuck on Tatooine for another year. Needs time to cool down before he says something he knows he’ll regret, and Peli’s good enough not to pry.

They end up playing sabacc, Peli cackling as she cheats her way to victory - Luke pauses his story to give the others this 0:D smile when he tells them she’s the one who taught him how to cheat at sabacc and not get caught at it, but anyway, they want to hear the rest of his story, right?

Peli gets a call from a supplier, something about a parts dleivery being delayed - Imperial interference or some such - and she leaves to go take care of it, annoyed because she was about to clean Luke out and leave him destitute when it comes to nuts and bolts, and then it’s Luke and the guy.

Who’s giving him this look right - well, Luke assumes, because helmet but he’s not telling Han and the others that bit, and anyway.

It’s still kind of early as these things go and Luke’s feeling a little more reckless than usual, and invites the guy for a hand or two if he doesn’t have anything else to do.

He’s not really expecting the guy to say yes, but he does and it’s not so bad, really? Guy must be in a good mood because he answers more of Luke’s questions or offers tidbits about himself without being asked. Doesn’t even glare at the pit droids when they creep a little closer.

Little guys love Luke, you know, but this guy obviously doesn’t like droids so they usual stay clear, but this this time their curiosity gets the better of them.

So they play a couple of hands of sabacc,and the guy knows, okay, clearly, obviously knows Luke is cheating the whole time. Hell, Luke’s not even trying all that hard to hide it, but he doesn’t say anything about it.

Gives Luke a look a few times, but they keep playing and they each win a hand.

Luke’s in a better mood by the time they decide that’s enough for the day, offers to buy the guy dinner, even.

(But becuase Din, and helmet, that’s a little awkward, y’know?)

Gets a no, because the guy has rations or whatever in his ship and Luke figures hey, okay, no problem and figures he’s good to go home now. Apologize to Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru and such because he does get it, just.

Yeah.

He doesn’t see the guy around for a few more months, and when he does -

“You need to see a doctor.”

Because the blood. So much blood?

Also a vibroknife, and it’s just.

Messy.

But the guy is like no, no doctor and Luke is like you are going to die if you don’t see one but still the no doctor thing, and Luke drags him to this place he knows. Sketchy part of Mos Eisley - sketchy-er part- and knocks on a door.

This lady he knows, used to be a doctor way before. Used to be with the Galactic Navy, served on a Venator-class star destroyer before things changed, she says.

Anyway, she has a soft spot for Luke after he helped haggle a shopkeeper down on some supplies she was trying to buy this one time.

(Patched him up once or twice too, accident at the hangar or taking the wrong shortcut, that kind of thing. Didn’t want to worry his family, and anyway, Mos Eisley, right? Things happen.)

She’s surprised to see him this late at night - or not, because, again, Mos Eisley - and freezes when she sees who he has with him.

It occurs to Luke, when he sees the look on her face that hey, maybe there’s a reason someone like her is living in a bad part of Mos Eisley, and maybe people like this guy who’s been bleeding on Luke for the last however long might be one of them, but.

She was a doctor and that meant somthing once upon a time, and also the look on Luke’s face, the way he swears nothing will happen to her even though they both kind of know there’s no way he could keep that promise if his...friend is determined, but anyway.

Doesn’t matter all that much since the guy passed out before Luke got to her place, and he stays under the whole time they’re working on him.

Luke helps her patch the guy up, another pair of steady hands and they manage to save his life, which is great!

Luke apologizes for not thinking when he went to her place, but the blood and worry and she was the only one he could think of, and anyway.

She tells him not to worry about it, someone would have found her sooner or later anyway, and hey, really, don’t worry about it.

Still, better safe than sorry and Luke gets the guy back to the hangar before he wakes up. Gets him into the bunk on his ship and then, because he’s covered in the guy’s blood and it’s late as hell, decides to call home to let them know he’s got another long night - last minute job that came in and he’ll be back to help with the farm in teh morning.

And then!

Peli’s out of town, off-planet, business or whatever, and Luke’s the only one at the hangar and wakes up to the guy standing over him.

No blaster in his hand but Luke gets the feeling he doesn’t need one, and anyway.

“I said no doctors.”

Which, okay.

Luke recognizes he’s in a dangerous situation, but also?

It’s early as hell, and he didn’t get a lot of sleep the night before what with saving the guy’s life and Luke’s pretty sure he didn’t get all of his blood out from under his nails.

“They’re not anymore,” he says, and puts his arm over his eyes to block out the light. Figures if the guy’s going not going to kill him for saving his life he might as well get more sleep.

He hear this little huff, annoyance? Something, but he’s tired and falls asleep before he can figure it out.

(And the part Luke doesn’t tell Han and the others who are all just. Staring at Luke because what the actual hell, Skywalker, they thought you were some dumb kid living on a moisture farm, not...whatever the hell this story is turning out to be, is that he tells the guy - they didn’t take his helmet off, that no one saw his face.)

Anyway, Luke doesn’t get murdered on Peli’s office couch, but he does get more sleep. When he wakes up the guy and his ship are gone, but one of the pit droids gives Luke a little stack of credits. Enough to cover the medical supplies Luke’s not-doctor friend used on him, and figures it’s as close to a thanks as he’s likely to get.

In present day hangar on Hoth everyone is still staring at Luke who is like what, none of you guys had experiences like that growing up where some guy bled all over you and then kind of threatened to kill you for helping him? Weird.

Han makes a mental note to have a talk with Leia - when she’s talking to Han again - about their idiot friend who is either the luckiest bastard in the galaxy or...hell if Han knows, but someone needs to keep an eye on the kid, okay?

But back to pre-Star Wars Luke and his ~sweetheart story.

He doesn’t see the guy again for a while, but this time he does the guy comes over to where Luke’s working on his speeder at the back of Peli’s hangar. It’s been acting up and he has this deal with her where she lets him use the hangar tools and equipment if he pays for any supplies he uses in the process.

Business has been slow, Imperial activity in the area for some reason and scaring their usual customers away for the time being, and anyway.

Nothing else to work on, so tinkering with the speeder when a shadow falls over him and he looks up to see the guy watching him.

Awkward about it too, and Luke watches him totally not fidgeting before he rolls his eyes and flaps a hand to the toolbox just out of reach.

“Hand me the hydrospanner, would you?”

He’s half expecting the guy to walk off in a huff, but is pleasantly surprised when he sets the hydrospanner in Luke’s waiting hand.

Luke thanks him and goes back to work, and realizes after a bit that the guy is still standing there??? Seems less awkard now, though, and Luke slides out from under the speeper - has it up on a lift or the whatnot - and looks at the guy.

Tells him it’s nice to see him, especially when he’s not bleeding - “Wait, you aren’t bleeding, right?” HArd to tell with the armor and such - which makes the guy sigh.

Luke grins, and the guy sits on one of the crates nearby as Luke goes back to fixing the speeder. Occasionally Luke will ask for a tool and the guy will hand it to him.

Luke chats with him while he’s working, gets some answers back and it’s just.

A nice time, you know?

And then when he’s done and the speeder is back up and running, well. Luke needs to take it for a test drive, little spin, and if the guy’s not doing anything it might be nice to have some company???

Wedge and the others are like OH? GOING FOR A DRIVE WITH YOUR SWEETHEART? TELL US MORE.

But, like. Nothing happens, okay? They go for that drive, Luke shows off a little because he was a dumb - dumber - kid back then and anyway, anyway.

It’s not until they’re back in Mos Eisley and Luke drops the guy off at his ship, parked in a hangar down the way, that anything happens, you know?

The suns are going down and it’s pretty out, hardly anyone on the street with them and, almost enough to make them forget about being in Mos Eisley.

Luke’s leaning against the speeder, right, and the guy’s watching Luke watch him, and he cocks his head a certain way and Luke follows him into the hangar and nothing happens, okay, really.

Just some talking, the guy getting ready to leave in the morning and some stuff he ordered got dropped off. Luke helps him load his ship, and when they’re done it’s starting to get dark out, and Luke really should head home -

But the guy stops him, and on his arm and some of that awkwardness is back, and Luke is just.

Doesn’t know what to expect, because usually this is where a kiss might happen, but - the armor the others don’t know about because shhhh, no talk of Mandalorians when Han’s around -

Luke is just standing there, not sure what to do, and then the guy leans down, presses his forehead against Luke’s and says, “Din,”

Luke is like !!! because this is clearly something important, something big, and he doesn’t want to ruin the moment, mess things up. Is about to ask, but the guy beats him to it.

“My name,” he says, like this is something he hasn’t told many people. “Din.”

No last name, but Luke figures even this much is a big, big deal, especially since they don’t even really know one another, and anyway, it doesn’t matter, so.

They stay like that a little longer - Luke doesn’t know what they’re doing, this thing with Din, but it’s nice and he likes it - and then one of the hangar mechanics comes stumbling in, drunk as hell and Luke and Din break apart, all awkward and flustered.

Luke says he has to get home, Din says he should get some sleep since he’s leaving early the next morning, and anyway, anyway, that’s Luke’s sweetheart from home story.

Because, you know, because.

Uncle Owen got a couple of droids the day after that and Luke’s life stopped being his for a long, long time.

Han and Wedge and the others look at Luke because what even was that story? Everyone else had the schoolyard crushes and the like. Luke gets the mysterious drifter who almost died, but then Luke saved him by taking him to a former doctor who was on the run and hiding out in Mos Eisley and almost got murderized for it -

“Guys, he wasn’t going to kill me,” Luke says, which while true is nowhere near the point, Skywalker, just shut up for a second, okay?

- and then he gets the scenic drive and romantic kiss goodbye to someone he never sees again???

(They all agree not to mention the part where Luke’s family was murdered and the whatnot because yikes, but still. What was that story?)

Luke is just, “Tatooine,” which is as good an explanation as anything else he could have given them really.

AND THEN.

Fast forward a few years to this distress call through the Force fro a tiny green gremlin kid that Luke answers.

Has to go through a platoon of Dark Troopers to do it, and when he does -

He doesn’t expect Din to remember him, not really, because what’s one dumb kid on some terrible desert planet to someone like him who probably stopped on a hundred other planets with other dumb kids like Luke around, so.

Still, knowing it’s Din and seeing what he’s willing to do for Grogu - what he has done, when Grogu shares his memories of his adventures with Din and what Din tells him himself - makes it easier to invite him to come with Luke and Grogu.

(Always the plan to do so because he doesn’t want to repeat the mistakes of the old Jedi order, but it being Din is so much better.)

Go back to Yavin or wherever he’s starting his school and Din is all awkward around Luke?

At first he thinks Din does remember him, and overall awkwardness of their past and present and anyway, he’s obviously not going to say anything and doesn’t want to? So just move on and such.

Only thing is, with Din living there with Luke and Grogu, Luke gets the chance to get to know him better? And Din is obiously trying, for Grogu’s sake, probably, Luke doesn’t know.

It’s still Din, though, awkward and a little stilted and just.

Adorable, really. Sweet about it.

Nothing really happens other than the awkwardness going away after a while, Din looking a little more comfortable around Luke and such.

And then the speeder they use to get to the small town a few miles away for food and supplies and the whatnot breaks down and Luke sets about fixing it, back of the little workshop area he as set up and it takes him a while to realize Din came out to see what he was doing, and then just never left?

Sitting there on some cargo crates, Grogu dozing in his arms because it’s early yet, but when Luke glances over at them Din shrugs, Smile in his voice as he tells Luke that Grogu woke up when Din was getting ready and refused to be left behind, and now here they are.

Luke snorts, and looks around for the hyrdospanner -

- and Din puts in his hand.

And where it should be a nice, normal little gesture, Din has to go and make it all meaningful, you know?

Hands Luke the hydrospanner, but their hands brush, touch lingering and Din is looking at him.

It’s been years, but Luke still remembers how to read Din’s body language, the tilt of his head, way he holds himself. Subtle things, an anyway.

Din watches Luke work, and Grogu wakes up somewhere in there taking over Din’s job of handing Luke tools and the whatnot, but that’s fine with Din because now he gets to watch the two of them, right?

Luke explaining what he’s doing, what’s wrong with the speeder and what he’s doing to fix it and such. Grogu follows maybe half of what he says, not all that interested, but he’s thrilled at the chance to help and that’s the important part.

And then when he’s done and the speeder is back up and running, well. Luke needs to take it for a test drive, little spin, and if Din’s not doing anything it might be nice to have some company???

(Not that Luke has called him by his name or anything since they met again on Gideon’s ship, didn’t think Din remembered him or that he was welcome to use it, and anyway, Yes)

There’s only the one sun this time, and it’s jungle rather than desert, but Luke still knows a nice little road they can take. Scenic, lovely, and Din gives him another one of those looks because he remembers this, okay.

Luke grins, because this is...it’s nice, really, and then Grogu pops up, super delighted because Luke is still kind of terrifying behind the wheel of a vehicle. Incredible driver/pilot and all? But still terrifying, because of those things.

They get back to the school, Luke pulling up in front of the school. Leans against the speeder watching Din and Grogu get out, Grogu thrilled out of his little mind because they went so fast and it was amazing and they watch as Grogu goes inside still chattering to himself becuase so cool.

Din looks at Luke, who’s still leaning against the speeder, soft little smile on his face because it’s been a good day.

And then Din cocks his head in a certain way and Luke follows him inside, because what else is he supposed to do?

They can hear Grogu somewhere in the little apartment Din shares with him, happy as anything and entertaining himself and anyway.

“Hey, hi,” Luke says, like an idiot, but that’s fine, it’s great.

Din’s kind of an idiot too, it works for them.

There’s some talking, and Grogu wanders in, clearly hungry and no choice but to make dinner and so on. Luke and Din moving around one another comfortably, don’t really think too much of it, and Grogu helps where he can, also snags little bits of food here and there and is all 0:D? when they shoot him looks, because clearly he’s done nothing wrong his whole life.

Grogu starts nodding off after dinner, and Luke cleans up while Din puts him to sleep, and then it’s finally Din’s turn to do the leaning.

Leans on the counter watching Luke who gives Din a look, like what are you doing, there are dishes to put away -

And then Din stops the whole leaning thing, at least for now, because he’s doing the thing where he presses his forehead against Luke’s, and it’s -

Luke knows what this is now, what it means to Mandalorians, to Din.

And if he still didn’t, there’s no misunderstanding the emotion in the way Din says Luke’s name, like hey, hello, and i’ve missed you so much, and there you are, i found you.

Which should be strange, right, because they barely even knew each other back then, but Luke says the same things to Din when he says his name, when Din hears Luke say his name for the first time, and anyway.

Luke’s not some dumb kid anymore (still dumb, according to Leia and Han and everyone else in Luke’s life, just not a kid), and Din’s not the same man he used to be.

And anyway, this is better isn’t it? All that time to find out who they were, live a lifetime of experiences with everything the galaxy threw at them only to meet once another again afterward? Learn who they’ve become since Tatooine, settled in their skins and anyway.

Not bad for a second date.

Han and Wedge absolutely lose their shit when they meet Din and realize why Luke’s story about his sweetheart from home was a little weird in places? Spots where Luke had to talk around the armor and fact Din’s Mandalorian and just.

Also the bit where Luke was all casual about the almost being murderized for saving Din’s life

“Guys, he wasn’t going to kill me, how many times do I have to tell you that?”

And Din is like. “...what? You thought I was going to kill you?”

“No!”

“Well we did!”

And anyway.

Yeah.

Leia, who has also heard Luke’s sweetheart from home story - it took them a long time to find Han after Cloud City, and there were nights where none of them could sleep and nightmares were plentiful and anyway, she’s heard the story - takes one look at Din and Luke and how happy her idiot of a brother is, and is just.

Finally, someone who makes her brother look like that.

(Happy. Din makes Luke happy.)

#star wars nonsense #dinluke #this really got away from me huh?#wow #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #long post #for reals though #/o\#sweethearts

429 notes · View notes

sabraeal · 3 years

Note

Consider: Obi is green-red color blind

A Color by Any Other Name

Written for @aeroplaneblues for a surprise birthday gift! Many months ago she mentioned wanted to see a colorblind Obi, and I said, WELL WHAT A GOOD EXCUSE TO WRITE THIS PROMPT JOANNA GAVE ME. I hope your birthday is a good one, filled with a lot more nice surprises!

“Are you ever going to introduce me to your guard friends?” Suzu asks around a mouthful of dumpling. “Or are you embarrassed?”

To say Obi is unprepared, would be an understatement; there’s a pork bun lodged between his teeth, his gloves not only coated in pig grease but also far less effective against steam than he’d thought they’d be back when he’d just grabbed a plump little blob off the stall. He’d laughed off Suzu’s concerns about protective equipment; after all, if smiths use leather gloves, they’ve got to be just as good as an oven mitt.

They aren’t. Not to mention the roof of his mouth starting to have a real good think about peeling off and having a vacation. Maybe even with someone who doesn’t eat entire dumplings straight from the basket.

“Wha?” he manages eloquently, nearly drooling spicy meat drippings onto the street.

“I know I’m not cool like they are,” Suzu continues, warming to his new thesis. If his sudden flush of confidence is any measure, he’s spent more of time composing his arguments for this than Obi’s ever seen him work on his actual defense. “And I’m no good with a sword. Or fists. Or really any implement that isn’t a scalpel, and any opponent that isn’t already anesthetized. But I am very smart.”

There’s a thoughtful pause before Suzu adds, “Some people do enjoy that, you know.”

What Obi knows is that this kid tried this conversation on for size in front of Yuzuri, and she didn’t even bother to warn him as a courtesy. See if he buys her any more meat-on-sticks when she’s ‘left her purse in the lab’ now.

“That’s not--” he takes a hurried minute to swallow-- “not what’s happening. I didn’t...”

Even know you knew I didn’t work for the pharmacy. His teeth clamp shut around that winner, and its friend, I didn’t think you lot would want to hang out with a bunch of men without degrees. Not only would that encourage Suzu to make a scene right here, right now, but if it got back to Jirou-- well, if he thought Suzu could turn any day into a disaster, the lieutenant would make that seem like a vacation.

“I didn’t think you wanted to,” he settles on instead. Similar enough in feel, if...creatively edited. “You scholar types tend to flock together.”

“Well, sure,” Suzu murmurs, stymied, “but we’re friends too, aren’t we? If all my friends are your friends, then all your friends should be my friends.”

Only an academic could talk about arithmetic with that amount of confidence, especially the kind that involved transitive properties and letters, and all sorts of things that made Obi’s head spin.

“Well,” he hums, one boot scratching his calf. “You would know.”

Suzu whirls on him, staring down his long fox-snout of a nose. “You mean it? You’ll really...?”

“Sure. If that’s what you want.” He twitches his shoulders, more casual than he feels. “It’s fine if it’s you.”

There’s always been a lazy lilt to Suzu’s eyes, but it disappears now, all the sleepiness gone to surprise. “Me? You wouldn’t want to bring anyone else?”

“Well, definitely not Kazaha.” The glares he’d get bringing that twiggy pedant into the guardhouse might be enough to drop him dead on the spot. “And Yuzuri would be too popular.”

Suzu grimaces. “The number of admirers she’d get from a wink alone...she’d be unlivable.”

He can see it now, her ponytail bobbing with a buoyant glee, giggling through every painstaking penned line from her fan club-- “Think of all the bad poetry.”

“Honestly, that might make it worth it. At least I’ll feel better about not knowing the difference between a quartet and a quatrain.” Suzu takes a thoughtful bite of him bun. “And you couldn’t bring Shirayuki, of course.”

“Right.” Not a one of them could be trusted to keep their lips sealed; she’d hardly have to take a breath and someone would call her Obi’s lady, or ask how they met, or whether she’s still Mistress behind closed doors--

But Suzu wouldn’t know any of that. “Wait, why?”

“Well...” He has the grace to look chagrined about it, whatever it is. “You know. Her hair...?”

“Oh.” Obi shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”

“You guess?” Suzu stares. “Shirayuki has a non-zero amount of stories about being kidnapped for looking like a candied apple, and you guess there might be a fuss about bringing her ‘round to the guardhouse?”

“Well, none of you acted weird about it,” he snips, hiding his annoyance behind a bite of dumpling. “There’s no reason they will.”

“Of course no one at Lilias acted weird, Obi!” he squawks, arms flailing as he talks. “You couldn’t pay them to look at anything but their own project. But when a bunch of normal men with eyes and, uh, other working appendages see a cute girl with red hair and a soft voice, they’re gonna go crazy!”

His palm hooks around his shoulder, thumb digging into the hard knot at his collarbone. “Aw, come on. It’s not that special.”

��Not that--?” Suzu whips around, eyes round as dumplings. “Obi, she’s the only person I’ve ever seen with red hair.”

“You don’t get out much,” Obi deadpans. “No offense.”

“That’s not--” Suzu grunts, throwing up his hands-- “She’s the only person anyone’s ever seen with red hair!”

“Her dad’s is kind of red.” That observation wins him an unimpressed look, one that says you’re missing the point. “And Yuzuri had blue hair when I met her. That’s way more interesting--”

“It was dyed!” Suzu wobbles over to a wall, sitting with his head in his hands. “Shirayuki has a hair color so rare that the birth records in Clarines haven’t noted it in more than fifty years! And you think Yuzuri dying her hair with woad is more impressive.”

“Well, even her natural color is brighter than Miss’s. Not--” he waves a hand between them, quelling-- “that Miss’s hair isn’t nice enough. But I’d think that people would pay more attention to that.”

“...Brighter?” Suzu murmurs after a long moment, stilted. “Obi, could you tell me what color that sign is, right over there?”

“The one for the tea shop?” He wrinkles his nose. “Why--?”

“Just...indulge me for a moment.”

“All right.” He squints up at the moon cresting over a wolf’s head. “Blue.”

“Right, and, um, that coat over there.”

“Yellow.”

“Right.” Suzu’s voice is tight, stressed. “And what I’m wearing?”

Obi squints. This one’s a little harder, but he’s confident when he says, “Green.”

“Ah, right.” Suzu stands, a unsteady on his feet. “That would explain that, then.”

Obi blinks. “Explain what?”

“Obi,” Suzu begins, with all the gravitas of both a grim prognosis and a terrible joke. “You can’t see colors.”

It’s not the first time Obi’s played hound to his prey’s fox, but there’s something distinctly unsettling about it being Suzu that leaves him lagging behind, unsure of himself. Especially with the way he scurries through the concourse, bounding toward the mess hall with this idea caught between his teeth like chicken feathers.

“I can see colors just fine,” Obi informs him with far less confidence than he’d like. “Some of them are just hard to tell apart. Weren’t you and Yuzuri arguing yesterday about whether salmon is orange or pink?”

Suzu waves a hand at him, dismissive. “That’s different. Salmon’s both orange and pink, and what color it looks most like has to do with the composition of your eye-- and it’s pink by the way, with orange undertones--”

Between the two of them, Obi knows who he’d trust to know their colors. “Uh-huh.”

“You can’t make out red and green, which is different entirely, and--” the doors to the mess burst open beneath his hands, a noise lost in the din of a hundred scholars trying to share the same table-- “YOU GUYS WON’T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST FOUND.”

The whole of Shidan’s lab-- minus the man himself-- have taken up right by the door, bags and coats piled to save them their places on the bench. Suzu makes short work of the pile on his seat, haphazardly shoving them to the floor as he sits.

Kazaha peers at him and ventures mildly, “A new way to avoid finishing your thesis?”

“No,” Suzu hums between his grit teeth, “but I have found out--”

“I don’t think we need to do this,” Obi murmurs, handing Miss her muffler. “It’s not--”

“Obi,” he intones with far more gravitas than his name has ever strictly deserved, “can’t see colors.”

“Not at all?” Kazaha turns those sharp eyes to him, like he’s a specimen under glass. “Just black and white?”

“I can see just fine,” Obi huffs, tossing Yuzuri her coat before he slides onto the bench, knee knocking into Miss’s in a way that puts his heart through its paces. “Suzu is just making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Is that so?” he hums with a grin. “Then what color is Shirayuki’s hair?”

He stifles a sigh. It’s best to put all this to bed now, before he’s stuck playing what’s this color for the next two years. “Red.”

“What’s the point of this?” Yuzuri yawns, already bored. Obi shoots her a grateful look, glad that at least one of them isn’t going to play Suzu’s game.

It’s too bad he’s already puffed up with unearned confidence, like an evolutionist at a botany lecture. “And what’s the color of Ryuu’s cloak?”

He knows it by heart-- how could he not, when the two most important people in this city wear matching ones-- but still Obi glances up, anticipating a trick. Ryuu stares back, confused and guileless. “Blue.”

“Great, good.” Suzu’s grin stretches from ear to ear. “Now what color is your scarf?”

Obi’s fingers knot in the fabric, the weft tickling the pads of his fingers. “Well, it’s...sort of reddish, isn’t it?”

This is the wrong answer.

“It makes so much sense,” Yuzuri murmurs in wonder. “You really don’t know how ugly Suzu’s outfits are. That’s why you still hang out with him.”

“Hey!” Suzu pouts. “That’s not very nice.”

“No, that has nothing to do with color, it’s the cut.” Anxiety spikes through him. “But wait, it is red isn’t it? My scarf?”

“No,” Miss murmurs at his side, cheeks flushes. “Obi, it’s...it’s green.”

He stares down at it, trying to imagine what that might look like. “Green.”

“It looks very nice on you!” Her small fingers wrapping in the fur at his elbow. “It’s your color, really.”

“Oh, sure,” he murmurs, faint. “I guess it matches my eyes.”

“Hey, what do you mean ‘it has nothing to do with the color?’“ Suzu’s hands fly to his hips, brows drawn tight over the long line of his nose. “My clothes are just fine.”

“They aren’t.” Obi leans in next to him, grin feeling thinner than it should. “But I hang out with you anyway, which means you know we’re really friends.”

Kazaha rubs at his chin, where his ode to Shidan’s goatee is failing to thrive. “You know what this also explains?”

Obi blinks. “What?”

“All the black.”

It’s not Kazaha that says it, oh no. That would be too merciful for a mortifying moment out of his life. Instead it’s low and feminine, and when Miss Kiki leans out from the other side of Miss, it’s like a siren emerging from the depths, teeth bared to tear a man to shreds. “What an interesting thing I’ve learned today.”

“Miss Kiki! How--?” He gulps. “Why--?”

“I came to deliver a message from Wirant,” she drawls, too pleased. “And it seems I’ve earned myself a fine tip.”

“No,” he breathes. “You can’t-- you’re not going to tell Master, are you? Or Sir?”

“Oh,” she hums, looking particularly hungry for manflesh. “I certainly will.”

“Oh, there there.” Miss pats his back, the sensation lost among the dozen layers of clothing between them. “I’m sure Kiki won’t tell them, not until you’re ready! You asked her not to.”

“I think that just means,” Obi mutters, voice muffled by his arms and the wall he’s throwing himself over, “that she’ll just enjoy telling them more.”

“Ah...” He doesn’t need to see her to know her grimace. “Yes, that’s...probably right.”

He lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh. It helps a little. So does a bit of flailing.

“They won’t make a big deal out of it,” Miss says, changing tack. “It hardly changes anything! I’m sure they’ll just forget as soon as she tells them.”

He peeps one eye over his elbow. “That’s easy for you to say, you haven’t spent the last half an hour playing What’s That Color.”

“Well,” she wheedles, “they are scholars.”

Obi groans, loud and long, which doesn’t help; but it echoes out over the rooftops, returning back to him, which does.

“How...?”

Miss hesitates, a gloved finger pressed to her lips. He sighs, already braced for the onslaught-- how didn’t you know? how did you go so long without knowing your colors? how do you find people if you can’t even tell what hair color they have--?

“How did you notice?”

Obi lifts his head, unblinking. “What?”

“How did you notice?” Miss repeats, more firmly this time. “You’ve spent your whole life this way, haven’t you? It must have taken something really special to realize there was more than what you see.”

“Uh.” It’s nice that it’s darker here, that it’s cold. He has perfect legitimate reasons to be flushed. “Well, it was Suzu really. He mentioned that--” his teeth clamp down around his words, not letting them out without a hasty edit-- “that people think your hair’s pretty special, and I said I didn’t get why...”

Miss stiffens beside him, a statue that breathes, and he hastily adds, “Not that you aren’t special, Miss. It’s just, the red...”

“Right.” The words comes out stilted, strange. “You can’t see it. You actually...haven’t ever seen it.”

A silence settles on them like a wool blanket; not one of those nice ones at the castle, or the fleecy ones Miss stockpiles like one day the North might run out of sheep, but the itchy, coarse-woven ones of his childhood. Uncomfortable and smelling faintly of animal.

“So,” he coughs, fixing his gaze out over the city. “What did Kiki want?”

“Oh...” Miss shifts, mouth pulling into a guilty grimace. “She came to tell me that the Queen Dowager has invited me to dinner. Tomorrow night.”

His brows raise. “Well, well.”

“Don’t,” she murmurs, head giving the barest shake. “It’s not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He shouldn’t press, but if he doesn’t, no one else will. “After you told Master--”

“I told him a list of reasons why I thought I would be a better ally as a friend, and not as a...” Miss loses steam, letting her words sigh into the air. “I’d like to believe this has to do with my work with Phostyrias.”

He watches her, careful. “But do you?”

“I don’t know,” she says, which is as good as any no.

Obi’s barely stepped into the Protector’s solar when Master asks, “What color is my jacket?”

His head swivels, delivering a glare so flat carpets would be jealous. Miss Kiki only hums, shoulder lifting in a disinterested shrug. “I said I was going to tell them.”

Fair enough.

“It’s blue,” he deadpans, flopping onto the cushiest divan. He’s too long for it, his boots spilling off one arm a idling over the floor. “Apparently I can see that one just fine.”

According to Miss, at least; she’d unearthed a slip of a book from the university’s library, outlining the limits of his sight. Little Ryuu had pored over it for a day before showing up at his door, flushed faced and nervous.

Garrack always told me I had nice eyes, he’d admitted, lingering at the threshold. I was hoping you could see them.

Cross as he is about the whole thing, Obi can’t regret that. He might not have Miss’s hair, or Suzu’s coat-- thankfully-- but Ryuu’s eyes would always look true to him.

“But not red.” Master’s mouth twitches, far too entertained. “Or green.”

“I do see them,” he protests. “They just...don’t look very different to me.”

Just another shade of yellow and brown, if those books are right. Which they are, since he’d always thought so. Subtly different, like the way Suzu and Yuzuri fought over salmon, or Master and Miss Kiki would dither over chartreuse. Just enough that he’d been able to eke by on keeping his mouth shut and a fondness for black.

Still, there’s nothing worse than finding out something new about yourself this late in the game. Especially when--

“What about the curtains?” Master inquires. “Can you see those?”

--Especially when it’s so endlessly entertaining to everyone else. “I can see them,” he grumbles, sinking further into the cushions. “Just because I can’t see some colors doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

“Then what about the note?”

Obi rolls his gaze to where Sir perches at his desk. “Huh?”

“To our red-haired guest.” Sir coughs, a flush working its way up his neck. “It’s just-- you wrote that.”

“Oh, His Grace told me that one.” A lifetime ago, it seemed. “‘The red-haired girl, you’ll know her when you see her, I’m sure.’“

Master winces. Obi can admit his talent doesn’t lie with impressions, especially ones of dour old men.

“Right,” Sir presses, voice oddly tight. “But you don’t see-- I mean, how could you find a girl that looks just like everyone else?”

“Ah...” He grimaces, scrubbing at the top of his head. “Well, I just looked for the girl who didn’t belong. It--” he hesitates, suddenly aware of Master’s eyes on him-- “didn’t take very long.”

Master’s frown belongs above one of those prie-dieu, to remind penitents that forgiveness isn’t absolute. “What is that supposed to--?”

“So what does she look like?” No one could say that after a decade of dedication, Miss Kiki doesn’t know how to do her job; she deflects Master’s brewing sour mood with the ease of a professional. “What does her hair look like to you?”

“Uh.” He clears his throat, tugging at his collar. “I wasn’t lying when I said I bought my scarf to match...”

There is a stillness to the room that is too much, too pitiful. Much as he hated it, Obi would much rather be a joke than a charity case.

“Huh,” Sir grunts, gaze still fixed to his neck. “Now I wonder what we all look like to you.”

“Well, I sort of wonder what you all look like to yourselves.” Obi let a sigh float wistfully through his lips. “At least I know that me and Miss still have the same eyes.”

There’s silence again, but this one buzzes, filled with words no one dares to say.

“What?” he laughs, nervous, pulling himself upright. “Don’t we?”

Sir grimaces. “Ah, Obi...”

Miss is quiet when they walk the walls home that night, the winter stillness making the silence and heavy as any drift. Her mouth is pursed, not with anything like anger, but something closer to consideration. As if there’s words back there she’s sorting through, trying to compose a thought that just won’t come.

Well, she should know: she won’t get anywhere if she doesn’t air a few of them out to look at. “Something wrong, Miss?”

She blinks, shaken out from wherever she gone away. Her mind palace, maybe. Suzu’d told him about those once, with busts and painting and curtained alcoves. What she’d do with a place like that, he couldn’t imagine, but if anyone asked, he’d put his money on hers having apothecary drawers instead, and gardens too. The kind with half crumbled walls, ivies curled around every stone. Cluttered desks piled high with books, and one of them with curtain drawn to let its owner nap the afternoon away.

“Oh,” she breathes, finally. “No, no. Nothing’s, um, wrong. I was just...thinking.”

He lifts a knowing brow. “So something is wrong.”

“That’s not what I said,” she informs him, primly. “I was going over my meeting with Haruto, and...”

Her lips snap shut around the words, distress narrowing her eyes. “And...?”

“She didn’t know about my work,” Miss huffs, arms wrapping tight around her chest. “Or, she did, but only what Zen had told her. Which...”

Was far less than the whole of it. He’d heard that part of her argument that night, try as he might not to. “So she invited you as Zen’s ally?”

“No.” The word is colder than any he’s ever heard fall from her lips. “That I wouldn’t mind-- I’m still trying to be his ally, after all, and if she saw me as an asset...” She shook her head. “No, she wanted to meet his...paramour, even if she didn’t say as much.”

Obi grimaces.

“And even that wouldn’t be so bad if...” Miss took a deep, steeling breath. “When I came in, after all the curtsies and pleasantries, she said, your hair is just as red as he said it was.” Her knuckles are white where they wrap around her elbows. “All those years, all those letters, and the only thing he thinks to tell his mother is that my hair...”

The rest is lost in a sigh, a cloud of mist swirling off the wall.

“It must really be something,” Obi deadpans, gaze following it off the edge. “Since it makes all these people forget how smart you are.”

She’s watching him; he can feel it as she sidles up to where he stands, hands unclenching from her arms and splaying on the crenellations instead. “Obi, you really can’t...?”

Miss hesitates, falls silent. He lets her; she’s put enough words in the air to sort through, and now all she needs is time. Obi’s happy to give it to her.

Especially since there’s a rabbit down there in the dark. A small one, moving slow, hind legs churning like clockwork winding up. It’s nose digs into the snow, snuffling around, searching--

“Can you really see better?” Miss asks, startling him back to the wall. “In the dark, I mean. That book said you could.”

“Well, after the past couple days, I’m a little shaky on what’s normal.” He jerks his chin over the edge. “Can you see the rabbit down there? Right by that sapling?”

She blinks, pressing in close. “The what? It’s just...dark out there.”

“Well,” he says, grin tight on his lips. “There’s your answer.”

Miss settles back on her heels, one hand already cupping her chin. “It makes sense. Without the distraction of color, your movement tracking must be much more acute...”

Obi only half-manages to stifle a laugh. “Seems like it definitely distracts everyone else.”

Miss goes quiet; almost too quiet, enough to make his teeth sit on edge. The seconds tick by, and Obi might play at patience, but it’s not in his nature. He glances down, just from the corners of his eyes, but Miss is already watching him, eyes strangely shuttered.

“Obi,” she says, so clear his name rings in his ears. “You don’t...? My hair, it’s not...” Her mouth works, quiet, before she manages, “It’s not anything to you?”

Anything special, she means. Because that’s what he said so stupidly last night, nothing special.

She’d tied it up tonight, finagling the strange looping knots that were partial to the queen’s court, but already some of it’s worn loose, slipping from its pins. “It is,” he murmurs. “I like it.”

She huffs, unimpressed. “But you can’t see it, not really.”

“Of course I can see it,” he laughs, weary. “Maybe not the color, but that’s fine. I like it because it’s yours.”

She ducks her head, and Obi might not be good at colors, but he can see her cheeks flush in the lamplight.

“Miss.” Her gaze lifts to his, no longer shuttered, just full. “Can I ask you something?”

Her breath catches. “Anything.”

“Be straight with me,” he pleads. “We do have the same eye color right?”

“Obi!” Miss‘s laughter bubbles bright with betrayal as she hops down the stairs after him. “Obi, please--”

“Let me grieve, Miss,” he grumbles, hands shoved in his pockets. “I’ve been a real champ about the rest, but let me have this.”

“Obi!” She catches him round the wrist, mouth twitching as she turns to him. “Is it really so bad that they’re gold?”

“No,” he mutters sullenly, shoulders slumped enough that with two stairs between them, they’re nearly the same height. “It’s just...”

Her eyes flutter wide with curiosity. “Just...?”

“It’s fine enough that they’re unique.” He spits the word with more venom than it deserves. “I just I wanted this one thing in common.”

“In common?” Miss blinks. “You mean, me and...?”

Obi would lay down his life for his mistress, but even she can’t ask him to do this, to lay down his pride for her to walk on.

“Oh!” She flusters, limbs fluttering in the air between them. He’s half-tempted to turn away again, but she grabs his face and holds him steady, her cold, slender fingers caught behind his jaw. “Just-- just one moment...”

“Miss?” he wheezes. This is entirely too close, too much--

“Yes!” He breath flutters over his lips, her own parting in a celebration of teeth. “That’s it. I see it. There’s a little, right there.”

He blinks. “A little what, Miss?”

Her teeth flash around the word, “Green.”

It’s cruel to throw a starving dog a bone, but he snaps it up anyway, heart nearly clogging up his throat with hope. “D’you mean it? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Really,” she promises, her nod serious and officious as any she might give Little Ryuu. “There’s a thread, right around the middle. Green. Just like mine.”

“Oh.” His own hands raise, leather muting the feel of her skin, but-- Master always told him about the red thread that bound him and Miss together, that drew them toward their fated meeting, but this-- Obi will take this too. “Thank you, Miss.”

She smiles, eyes shining bright in the lamplight. “No, Obi, it’s my pleasure.”

Not much different between green and red to him, anyway.

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #ans #this request has been sitting in my box since 2017 #when i FIRST started joking about this au #and i always meant to get around to it #but obviously my last few years have been filled with some things that have perhaps kept me #from being able to do all the things I meant to 🤣#but once Anne brought this up again #I knew i had a very good excuse to finally get this thing out in the world #AND HERE IT IS #it takes place some amount of time after the current arc

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yujikuna · 4 years

Text

golden hour

summary: Din Djarin wanted to kiss you. The thought of it was all-consuming. It’s funny that the only thing he’s ever allowed himself to want is the one thing he is bound by a creed to never have.

pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

word count: 2k

warnings: absolutely none. just pure fluff and yearning and a shit ton of run on sentences bc that’s my brand

a/n: i posted this over on my ao3 (padme_skywalker) back in april and have decided to post it here since it did fairly well. just something light and fluffy to balance out the pain i’m sure we will all feel during the finale. i did a few quick edits and changes to make this more inclusive, but let me know if something needs to be changed. pls enjoy~

“What’s your favorite color?”

The two of you lay on a grassy hillside on some random planet Mando had stopped at to refuel and for the three of you to stretch your legs. The child was dozing off to the side after spending the entire day waddling in the field and splashing in the nearby stream and chasing after frogs.

“Red,” Mando answered.

You were on your side, arm tucked underneath your head to keep the grass from tickling your face, watching him with curious eyes. It was nice, being able to lay there, the evening sun warming his beskar, as he played some question game you said was popular when you were younger. He didn’t know how you were able to talk so much at one time, taking the simplest questions he asked and answering them as if he asked you how the universe was made or how hyperdrives worked.

It was new to him- the whole not always being in silence thing. Not too long ago he would go weeks without hearing another being’s voice, just sitting in the Razor Crest with only his thoughts to keep him company. It was hard for him at first. It took him at least a month to be able to talk to you about something not related to the child or the ship. But your voice was smooth and sweet like the frozen cream treats he remembers loving as a child and he would listen to you talk about bantha dung if it meant he could hear your lilting accent and the breathy way you would trail off after talking for too long at one time.

“Really? Why?”

Mando glanced at you from the side of his visor. “It reminds me of the blood of my enemies,” he replied, his voice monotone.

Your eyes widened in shock before you threw your head back and laughed. Rolling on your back, you tried to quiet your giggles to keep from waking the baby. “Your jokes are getting better, Mando. Maybe once this whole bounty hunter thing gets to be too boring you can pursue stand-up comedy.”

You couldn’t tell, but he was positively beaming under the helmet, something in his chest warm at being able to make you laugh. He wished he could hear it without the filter of his helmet. He bet it sounds even sweeter.

“Okay, your turn, ask me one.”

Mando looked back up at the sky. “Do you speak any other languages?”

One corner of your mouth turned into a small frown. “No, I’m lucky that the family you saved me from were nice enough to even teach me Basic. I’ve always wanted to learn another, though.” You sat up, turning the top half of your body to him. “Oooh, could you teach me Mando’a? I always hear you speaking in it to the baby.”

He shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. Your frown had quickly turned back into a small smile and your eyes were wide with hopefulness. He wanted to tell you yes. He would learn any language in the galaxy just so he could teach it to you. “We’re not… We’re not really supposed to use it with people outside of the covert.” His heart clenched at the sight of your face falling.

You sighed and flopped back onto the ground. “I get that. Can you at least tell me what it is that you always call the baby, though? Ad’ika? What does that mean?”

He was quiet for a moment. “It’s what we call our children,” he said, deciding that the one word would be fine for you to know.

You hummed in response, eyes slipping shut. “That’s sweet. What is it that you always call me when you talk to him?” His face burns under the helmet. He uses a lot of names for you to the child. Mesh’la. Cyare. Cyar’ika. “Buir? I think that’s how you say it.”

Parent. Mother. “I… It’s just a nickname.” He clears his throat, not wanting to think about how much of a line that crosses. “You’re using all your questions up at once.”

“Oh, sorry.”

Mando turns his head to look at you again. He could hardly believe the way you glowed in the light of the setting sun. Your hair was fanned out around you, the light reflecting off of it and bringing out undertones that never show in the dim light of the Crest. It vaguely reminded him of the vibrant loom weavings the three of you had seen the local artisans working on early that day when you were in the market- but ten times more beautiful. Mortal hands could never create something as utterly divine as you were in that very moment.

Your brows furrowed slightly and you chewed on your lip. “Have you—” You cut yourself off. “Never mind.”

“Have I what?”

Your fingers twisted around a blade of grass. “Have you ever kissed someone?”

He nearly choked.

You turned your head toward him. Even the sensors of his helmet could detect the heat that had rushed to your face. “Sorry, that was a weird question. Don’t answer that.”

He couldn’t look at you when he answered. “No. I— I haven’t been without my helmet in front of others since I was a child.”

“Oh.” Silence fell between the two of you. “Have you ever wanted to?”

He should steer the conversation in a different direction. It was his turn to ask a question, anyway. He should ask you what your favorite animal is. Or what ship you would buy if you had unlimited credits. Or if— “Yes.”

He could still feel your gaze burning into him. He didn’t know if it was your eyes or maybe the sun or maybe he wasn’t really on this planet at all and he had somehow fallen in the Armorer’s forge because he felt like his beskar was melting right off his body.

“Anyone in particular?”

You, he thought. He would never say it, though. He knew that what the two of you had now was too good to ever mess up and his beskar may be hard but his heart had gone so damn soft ever since you first walked onto his ship and the mere thought of you rejecting him hurt worse than any physical injury he had ever sustained in his entire life.

But oh, did he think about kissing you.

He thought about it every time you walked in to a room. He thought about it every time you came up to the cockpit and sat a plate of food down beside him before going back down to be with the child. He thought about it the time the two of you decided to give the child a bath in a spare bucket since the sink was too small and you both were soaked head to toe from the child’s splashing and the only sounds in the galaxy were you laughing and the child squealing and you brought your hands up to wipe the bubbles off of his visor before you sent an armful of water his way and you made him laugh harder than he had in his entire life. He thought about it when he watched you work on the ship with grease smeared on your face and your brows furrowed and your tongue jutting out slightly while you concentrated. He thought about it when he turned his chair around to find you sleeping in the co-pilot’s seat, mouth slightly open and softly snoring.

He thought about it when he watched your eyes light up at the sight of something pretty at one of the marketplaces and then again when he presented it to you late at night once the child had gone to sleep and it was just the two of you and you hugged him and he didn’t hug you back but you both knew he would one day. He thought about it when he watched you take care of the child. He thought about it when he thought of his parents and how his father would always take his mother in his arms and kiss her and spin her around and dance with her and he thought about it when he told you what happened on that terrible day he lost them and you held him and cried and told him that you would burn down the entire galaxy before you ever let him feel pain like that ever again. He thought about it when the two of you got caught in a rain storm and you laughed the entire time you ran back to the ship and didn’t stop laughing as you stood under the dim lights, chest heaving and hair stuck to your face and you were so beautiful and that was the one time he sincerely thought about giving up the Creed because in his mind kissing you just once would be worth it.

He thought nearly every day about finding a loophole in the Creed. Turning the lights off. Blindfolding you. Asking you to close your eyes. He would trust you to not open them.

It’s funny that the only thing he’s ever allowed himself to want in his entire life is the one thing that he is bound by a creed to never be able to have.

So, yes, Din Djarin thought about kissing you quite often.

He could’ve told you all of this. But instead, he whispered, “Does it matter?” The words came out so softly he was sure they had been carried away by the wind.

You smiled, but it wasn’t like your normal smiles. It was sad and dejected and not like you at all. “No, I guess it doesn't.”

The sky was fading from golds and oranges and pinks to dusky blues and purples. The child was still asleep beside you and Mando wasn’t sure what kind of creatures came out on this planet at night and knew that he would have to guide you back to the ship soon.

The silence between the two of you was deafening and the few inches between your bodies felt like an entire parsec. Something cold began to clutch at his heart. He wanted to do it. He wanted to take his helmet off and hover over you and hold your face in his hands and finally just—

You scooted closer to him then, propping yourself up on one arm and leaning over him. You looked into the T of his visor and he wondered if you could see his eyes because it sure felt like you were staring into his soul at that moment.

His breath halted in his chest as you slowly inched your face toward his. Could you hear how hard his heart was beating?

He was frozen in place as he watched your eyes close and you pressed your lips to the hard beskar of his helmet right where his mouth would be and then he was on fire. He swore he could feel his lips tingling as if the helmet wasn’t there and your soft lips were on his. He was blushing, he could feel it as it traveled from his face down his neck to his chest. His entire body was tingling and numb at the same time and he felt hot and cold and Maker, is this what a heart attack feels like? Was he having a heart attack? You hadn’t even actually touched him.

The kiss only lasted a second before you pulled back and rested your forehead against his. When you smiled he felt the last bit of iciness in his heart melt away, leaving only warmth and happiness and love for this wild, beautiful creature in front of him.

“There,” you whispered. “Now you can’t say that you’ve never kissed someone.”

And then you were moving away from him, picking up the child and cradling him to your chest as you walked down the hill and through the field, taking every bit of his soul with you.

Din lay there on the hill for a moment longer. He was sure then that if he never took his helmet off for the rest of his life he would still die happy knowing that in some weird way he had kissed you and that was enough for him.

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fluff #mando x reader #star wars fanfiction

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furiosophie · 3 years

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maybe a little more oh the things we left behind epilogue fluff??? ;u; i know the entire epilogue was fluff but i am insatiable

yes very good thinking anon and sorry for the long wait my brain is just a heap of goo right now but here we go - some ottwlb fluff set between the Mandalorian war and the very last scene of the fic, a small compilation of how Din found the rest of their family:

oh the things we found

small TW for mentions of blood and trauma

Din doesn't in any way plan on becoming a magnet for Force-sensitive children, he really doesn't, but it happens regardless, something about his unique combination of Force-null beskar, Force-conduit darksaber, and Force-bond husband drawing them in like moths to a flame.

He finds Rey first, on a recon mission out to Jakku, casing a distress signal from a lost covert. She can't be any older than Ben, who is seven now and an absolute terror, but in comparison to him, she doesn't listen to Din one bit, her whole life just a series of defying the authority figures around her. She dangles from a rope above him, in the hollowed-out remains of an Imperial Star Destroyer, sticking out her tongue at him. "I'm not coming with you!" she declares while Din tries to position himself in a way that will allow him to catch her if she slips. "I'm waiting for my family. They're coming to get me!"

He doesn't have the heart to tell her no one in their right mind would ever willingly come back to a place like Jakku. He places all his rations, most of his credits, and, just for good measure, some bacta spray on the ground below her like he's making some offering to an ancient feral god and leaves with an ache in his chest.

"She won't come with me," he complains to Luke later, pacing up and down in the living area of the Mudhorn while Luke brews tea. They don't technically live in the Mudhorn anymore, have their own quarters in the ruins of Yavin's temple, but they always end up here regardless, whenever one of them comes back from a mission, whenever they need it to be just the two of them, away from everyone's worries.

Luke hands him a steaming cup and places a soft kiss on his temple. "Don't worry," he says, in that cryptic tone of his, the one he uses to tease Din when he's being daft about something that's impossible for him to know. "She will." And that's that.

Din goes back. Once, twice, three times, until the sparse crowd of locals looks at him with pity in their eyes. She does come with him eventually, after his eighths visit, when he draws the darksaber on a dune beast and turns around to find her looking at him with the type of recognition in her eyes that he's only ever seen in the way Luke looks at Ben and Grogu.

"She's like you," he accuses when Luke greets them at the bottom of the Mudhorn's ramp, Rey perched high on his shoulders, her arms wrapped around his helmet so tight it's hard for him to see. Luke just smiles and reaches out so Rey can tentatively take his hand. The change is instant - as soon as their palms touch her whole body relaxes as if something in her is finally at peace and Din has to reach up to keep her from sliding off his shoulders. And well. That's that.

Finn is next, standing tall in front of a group of terrified kids, in a backroom of the imperial laboratory they just raided, his eyes ablaze and lips turned up into a snarl. "I'll fight you," he snaps even as Din can see his hands shaking around the mop he fished out of the supply closet as a makeshift weapon. "I'm not scared, I'll fight you!" And really all Din can do in response is pull his helmet off and fall to his knees with his hands raised above his head.

It seems to work because he gets all of them into the Mudhorn eventually, Finn curled up on the copilot's seat, staring out in wonder at the endless expanse of space while the rest of the kids are rolled up into every available blanket in the captain's quarter. It's a bit of a rough start - where Rey felt turmoil because of the things swirling inside her without guidance, all Finn has ever known is supervision and people telling him to be something he's not, his connection to the Force tempered down in all the wrong places, too silent and too loud all at the same time, and in the first weeks, Din spends a lot of time hugging him close to the beskar plating of his chest, taking strolls under the quietness of Yavin's trees like he used to do with Ben. Finn quiets eventually, just as Rey did, the two of them getting on like a house on fire.

Shara is the one who brings Paige and Rose Tico, two sisters left stranded and alone by the still raging unrest of the remnants of war, and there is barely a discussion before she decides to take them in herself, the two of them glued to Poe the second they step off Shara's ship.

He finds Armitage last, standing over the dead body of an Imperial officer, blood on his hands and all across his face, just a sliver of yellow in the green of his eyes. Din has bruises on his arms for a week from how hard the kid strains against him as he tries to drag him out of the Star Destroyer before it self-destructs, but he figures, all things considered, they'll be able to handle that too.

He turns out to be a menace, of course, too smart for his own good, and way too stubborn to let Ben get away with his teasing, which always seems to end up Luke and Din having to physically drag them away from each other. Din tries to do for him what he did for everyone else, to hold him close and comfort him, but he only ever succeeds in the quiet of the night when he finds him at the very top of the temple wrapped up tightly in Luke's arms, both of them holding onto each other for dear life, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks tear-stained, darkness hanging around them like rain clouds.

Armitage takes a shine to Bo-Katan though, amidst all of his defiance, a fact that seems to confuse her as much as it does Din, and he knows that that will probably spell disaster in the future given how fast and feral Armitage takes to swinging a lightsaber, but to his relieve the Armorer steps up to pull him to her workshop by the back of his neck and balances the murder in his eyes with ever-evolving engineering challenges.

And so it takes a bit, quite a while in fact, but they find their balance eventually, their weird ever-growing family, all of them slotting into each other in a way that sometimes makes Din wonder if this was their doing too, Luke's and his, if in bending the universe around them, and in becoming one in the Force they somehow became a beacon for all those who are lost.

He wonders about it on the nights when, even after Han settles down on Yavin more or less permanently to be closer to Ben, and even after Paz bashfully asks to officially adopt Rey who's been glued to his shoulders for months, and even after Armitage makes it very clear that he doesn't plan to ever be adopted by anyone, Luke comes back from an excursion to find Din pilled into their bed with a bunch of wayward Foundlings.

"Sorry," Din mumbles sleepily as Luke steps over a snoring Paz who's taken up guard in the hallway, "It just happened."

"Is there room for one more?"

"Unlikely," Din sighs as he always does, but Luke finds a spot anyways, shuffling the kids around until they are just awake enough to demand a story from him.

"It's late," Luke smiles as Din pulls him closer to lean their foreheads together in greeting, Grogu climbing up from where he was tucked beneath Ben's chin to settle in between his dads. "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

"Just one!" Rey pleads from her spot at Din's side, Finn's head popping up behind her in a show of support and Luke raises a warning eyebrow as Poe and Rose scoot closer from where they were sprawled over Din's legs. "You always say we need to be curious about the world around us!"

"It will help us sleep," Armitage argues from his spot at the end of the bed, the one he takes to pretend he doesn't care about any of this, and starts scooting close too, shoving at Ben to make space.

"They make a good point," Din interjects gently and pulls Armitage out of the way and between them before Ben can get up enough to headbutt him with Din's helmet, which is a constant on his head on those nights where they all feel pulled towards each other.

"Traitor," Luke laughs, letting Armitage nestle in closer to him, but he'll tell them about his travels anyways until they are all knocked out and snoring peacefully and Din can press a quick kiss to Luke's lips without having to listen to a cascade of "ew" and "gross".

And so, in the end, he always drifts asleep knowing he doesn't fully understand it, not really, how they all manage to fit so perfectly into each other's lives, how he managed to find this, this place that is domestic in a way nothing in his life has ever been, but he figures he doesn't have to understand it, not when he also knows with absolute certainty that they are all exactly where they are supposed to be.

#dinluke #oh the things we left behind #thank you for that lovely question anon #I had this in my head for a long time I'm glad it's out there now #they all deserve some cuddles and happiness #also yes I made most of them the same age to fit my timeline poe and hux are the only ones who are slightly older #imagine all of them as children in the same place pure chaos #I have some more of their shenanigans somewhere down in my notes #maybe I'll get around to writing them out one day #but now I take a nap #soph andswers asks #soph writes

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s1ater · 4 years

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Hello would like to request literally ANYTHIMG Louis partridge. M tyvm goodnight

too late now, part one. louis partridge x reader

summary 📣: in which reader wants to fix amends but louis can’t find himself to forgive her, memories still stuck in his head

warning/s 🚫: none, just angst

slater’s note 🗯: gladly anon! i love this boy and really need more motivation to write for him. i do also think i will need a part two for this one so look out for that, also this story is inspired by this list of prompts!

part one, part two

you weren’t surprised when you heard the sound of his voicemail, his sweet voice saying to leave a message and he’ll get back as soon as he can. it made you sigh, pursing you lips, knowing he probably wouldn’t get back to you, he never did.

the sound of the beep made you inhale, “hey louis, it’s me again...” you paused, wondering if whether it was a good idea to do this, “i know i’m the last person you want to talk to but i really want to see you, really, please, we need to figure things out. i’ll be at roseford tomorrow at noon.”

you quickly hung up your phone, setting the device down on your dinning room table.

it was too late to go back now.

—

nothing could compare to the nervousness you felt right in that moment, sitting in the roseford garden restaurant. even the soft, colorful lively flowers couldn’t calm you.

you bit the nail of your thumb, bouncing your knee up and down, just knowing nothing good could happen, he wasn’t going to put your unnerving thoughts to rest, and that was because:

he wasn’t coming.

you just knew he wasn’t coming, it was half an hour past the time you had told him you’d be at the roseford. maybe he hadn’t even gotten the message, was it possible that you were waiting for nothing?

that probably would be the case since louis barely checked his voicemail box let alone his messages when the two of you were still together.

he spent most his time sleeping than on his phone or with you. he was a tired kid who would rather cuddle in bed then go out for a night of fun or even watch a movie in the comfort of his own home. no, he just wanted the comfort of his bed.

you sighed once more, taking a sip of the iced water that had been refilled more than once in the past thirty minutes. you had began to get weird looks from your waiter after the first three times, him noticing you were literally only sitting there, not even looking through the menu. it was embarrassing.

and you were just about to give up, your body going slack, knowing it was too late for anything to happen now.

but the sight of the boy entering the beautiful building proved you otherwise, his back slouched but he was walking rather quickly, like he had a mission, like he was anxious, and he was, you could tell by the way he clutched the back of his neck when he reached nearer to you that his nerves were up and on edge.

you smiled softly once he sat across from you, a waiter coming by a second later like clockwork asking if he wanted anything to drink. but louis denied him, turning to you, causing you to frown... because he was frowning. an annoyed one with a hint of sadness intertwined with his lips.

“what do you want?”

your mouth opened slightly at the harshness of his voice, “louis- i just wanted to catch-“

“i came because you wanted to figure things out,” he said quickly, eyes not meeting yours but rather switching from the table to the side of your face to the floor, but never your eyes, “i’m here to move on, not play another stupid game of yours.”

“louis no this isn’t-“

“but isn’t it?” he leaned forward on his forearms, silence taking over for a awhile, his eyes now meeting yours. he wasn’t so sure you weren’t messing with his head right in that moment, calling him months later after it all went down, calling to sort things out.

it didn’t sound right to him and he was still healing from the wound you caused him... as were you, and as the word “game” flew from his mouth, it deepened yours.

“i would have done anything for you,” he said suddenly and rather quickly, “anything.”

his words stung as he said them in regret, like he shouldn’t have even trusted you in the first place, like speaking to you now pained him, having regret every memory spent and wasted together.

“louis, you deserved better than me,” you said plainly, making it your turn to divert your eyes from his, grief and immediate guilt filling the core of your stomach.

he ignored you, pursing his lips as his mind began to fill up with memories upon memories that stacked up like files to the roof of his head. he couldn’t push them away, not with being face to face with you.

the face he memorized, dreamed about, fell in love with, a face that he longed for every single night even after the night you ended it all.

and for what?

it was rainy, water pressing and flowing down against louis’ bedroom window when he got your call, a smile on his face as your contact picture popped up, filling his whole phone screen.

he answered the phone after the second ring, with a pep in his voice making you wince, eyes tightening shut at how much harder it would be, having to ruin his cheery mood.

“hi love.”

“hi... lou.”

and he knew right away something was wrong, just by the tone of your voice he knew you were holding something back. it was built up in your chest, straining the sound of your voice.

“what’s wrong, y/n?”

“louis, i’m sorry,” you whispered, remembering it so clearly, so, so, clearly just as he did, “i am so sorry, i will never not be.”

and he looked you with something that resembled a hateful glare, eyes squinted, his lips pressed in a thin line. he stood up, looking away from you and more out into the garden before mumbling;

“sorry doesn’t fix things.”

#millie bobby brown #louis patridge icons #louis partridge imagine #louis partridge x reader #louis partridge #viscount tewksbury #viscount tewkesbury marquess of basilwether #lord tewkesbury #enola x tewksbury #tewkesbury #tewkesbury x reader #enola holmes

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