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wreckofawriter · 3 years

Text

better

pairing: regulus black x evans!reader

word count: 3.3k

warnings: swearing, angst, make out scene

request by: @upchurch-funk

summary: being a muggleborn dating Regulus meant you had to keep it a secret. When your older sister finds out she raises fear of heartbreak in both of you

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

You and your sisters had been born jealous. Petunia turned to envy first as the attention that had been solely given to her was split between two other daughters. She had always been bitter towards you and Lily, never forgiving you for interpreting her perfect young life. She had taken your things, broken your toys and ripped your clothes trying to punish you for being born and turning her from an only child to the eldest.

Lily was next when she realised she wasn't the only one who could sprout fire from her fingertips. She had accused you of faking your magic for years, doing everything she could to best you even if she never fully understood her powers herself. Luckily she outgrew this jealous fit and by the time you shared a cabin on your way to Hogwarts she was beaming ear to ear.

It was you who was last to realise what the burn in your chest really meant. The feeling came heavy like thick rain drops as you watched your sister fall so effortlessly in love. Each time she gave James a quick hug or leaned onto his shoulder your eyes narrowed, fury irrationally rising in your throat.

This wasn’t because you wished James was yours instead. In fact you had considered him an idiot since you met him and would have rather drown yourself than date the loud mouth fool. You were instead jealous of the simplicity of their relationship. Envious of how they could be carefree, how they could dream of picket fences and happy futures. You hated that they could still be stupid kids. How they were given the freedom to make out in hallways and sneak into eachothers dorms with their worst consequence being a slap on the wrist and week of detention. Nothing hurt more than watching your sister live a simple life you knew you never could.

You stared across the room locking eyes with Regulus for only a brief moment before his darted away. Charms was dreadfully boring, the lecture practically putting you to sleep, you knew you should have been paying attention, but watching the younger Black perform the spell with ease was far more interesting. The flick of his wrist was an addicting, dull look in his eyes far more attractive than it should have been. He had woken up late that morning, his hair messier than usual. You thought it looked adorable, the way a few strands drooped in front of his lashes. He only got cuter as he blew them from his face with a pout.

“You have a staring problem.” Levi muttered from beside you.

You rolled your eyes, “Do you ever mind your own business?”

“Please, you make your thing for Black everyone's business.” He muttered and you kicked him under the desk.

Cussing at you he glared, leaning down to massage his bruising shin.

You wondered briefly how he would have reacted to the reveal of your relationship with your “hopeless crush” as he liked to call it. The surprise on his face would have been sweet as honey.

Regulus was watching you now as you continued to talk to your desk mate, he had never liked the boy, call it jealousy or anger, something bitter always rose in his throat when he saw you with him. Maybe it was because he knew your life would be so much easier if you had loved him instead.

“I don’t get what you see in him anyway.” Levi said, looking across at Regulus whose eyes had quickly retreated back to his parchment.

You grew brittle at the statement.

“I mean I know he's attractive but if it's really about looks why not go for his brother?” He grumbled.

You scoffed, “Please, Sirius is a piece of work.”

“And he isn't? I’m surprised he hasn’t called you a slur yet.”

Rage bubbled in your stomach, your chest feeling hot, “Shut up.”

Levi was either oblivious to the anger set in your tone or unbothered by it “I mean really y/n, you have a crush on a purist? It's sickening.”

You screwed your eyes shut in an attempt to stop the hot tears building behind them. You wanted to scream at him, slap him across the face and shout how Regulus would never do such a thing. You wanted to tell him how wrong he was, make him regret ever speaking such cold words. But instead you looked away, wiping your tears as they came while your boyfriend sat across the room pretending you didn't exist.

You were used to it, you knew as a muggleborn dating a pureblood from a family like his would never be easy but the words still stung. That night you sobbed into Regulus’s chest as he held you in your usual hidden courtyard.

As your tears soaked through his sweater he felt nothing but the cold grip of guilt. He had never meant to fall in love. He had known it was a mistake the second it had happened. Even now he knew he had been wrong and stupid and naive to let himself feel so deeply for someone he could never truly be with. He would never forgive himself for forcing you into the hellish life he lived with a simple confession. He hated himself every day for it, he didn't deserve to indulge in his emotions knowing it would cause you nothing but pain. He didn't deserve you and he had known that from the start.

Yet every night you met, kissing under the pale moon until your lips grew numb. Everynight he found himself falling deeper and deeper into you until you filled his dreams and nightmares alike. So he forced you closer to him, knowing he would cause nothing but hurt. And you were so childishly in love you let him.

Later as you lay asleep on his chest, legs tangled beneath a blanket he let his own tears go, silent apologies dripping down his cheek as he tightened his grip on your waist.

Lily watched you from where she sat at her table, green eyes narrowed as she tried to read your mind across the dining hall.

“Something is definitely off.” She mumbled turning to James who stared at her with a dopey grin. “You haven’t been listening to a word I said have you?”

“How can I when you’re so beautiful?” He murmured back and she scoffed, face darkening.

Sirius gagged, “You guys are disgusting.”

“Christ Black, how old are you?” Lily spoke with the roll of her eyes.

He scrunched his nose and pretended to mock her silently only earning a sigh from Remus who sat beside him.

“Something is wrong with y/n, I can just feel it.” Lily continued content on ignoring Sirius.

“Maybe she's dating that Callahan kid.” James offered. “There’s been tons of rumors.”

Lily scoffed, “Please, she has told me multiple times she has absolutely no interest in him.”

“A few months ago you were telling her you had absolutely no interest in James.” Remus offered not to look up from his book.

Lily sputtered blushing heavily again, “That is completely different.”

“Sure it is.” Remus drawled, eyes peering over the cover at her.

Lily furrowed her brow, “But why wouldn’t she tell me? I mean I thought we've always been close.”

“Maybe it's not that serious.” Sirius shrugged, “Maybe they’re just fuck buddies or something.”

Lily pulled back in disgust, “Don’t talk about my little sister like that!” she hissed as Remus kicked him under the table.

“What? She’s almost 17! It's not like she's 12 or something, Godric.” Sirius complained and James threw a spoon at him.

“You know if you’re really that curious we could always just check the map.” James said looking over at Lily who was trying to set Sirius on fire with her glare.

She considered it for a moment, “Isn’t that kind of..” she paused “intrusive?”

He shrugged, “She's your little sister.”

The sky was dark that night as you met with Regulus. The moon was new leaving only the blinking stars to light the ground beneath you.

You grinned when you saw Regulus leaning against the small statue in the middle of the courtyard. You quickened your pace pulling him into a brief kiss as you met.

“Hi.” You whispered against his lips and you felt him smile.

“Hi.” He responded, hands on your waist pulling you closer once again.

You tasted sweet like the nectar of the gods, soft and tender in his arms. Your hair smelt of pomegranate, your flowery perfume engulfing him. There was nothing more addicting on this world than your lips.

You both pulled away breathless and grinning stupidly, “Your hair looks so cute like this.” You mumbled running your hands through it and tugging lightly on a curly lock that had fallen down his forehead.

Regulus practically purred, melting into your touch. He dipped his head low to hide his blush, lips skimming the skin of your neck.

You giggled as he mumbled a bashful thank you before nipping slightly below your ear. He was always careful to never leave marks that could be seen the following day. You wished he wasn’t.

You felt his hands on the back of your thighs lifting you off the ground. You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your nose in his hair as he walked until your back hit the wall of the castle. You scratched your nails lightly against his scalp and Regulus groaned. You gasped at the feeling of his tongue on your jaw as he pressed you further into the stone. Your legs now wrapped around his waist as he left sloppy kisses on your collar bone.

It was then you heard the shuffle of footsteps.

“Regulus.” You whispered and he broke away to look up at you, his lips red and glossy , “I heard someone.”

He slowly lowered you to your feet, “You sure?”

You nodded and you both stood silently, ears craning for another sign of life among you. After a minute you sighed, “Sorry, I must have been hearing things.”

Regulus just shook his head grinning lightly, “ ‘s fine babe.” words slurring, intoxicated by your taste.

Your lips reconnected, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as you began to work on the buttons of his shirt, tugging on his tie to loosen its knot. But there it was again the soft sound of feet, closer this time.

You both paused Regulus pulling away leaving your skin feeling cold in his absence.

“Who’s there?” He demanded into the darkness, wand lit.

There was no response and you grabbed his hand to pull him back to you. Regulus stood his ground so you leaned into him, lips ghosting against his ear.

“It's probably just a mouse or somethin’.” You murmured hands coming back to undo the remaining buttons of his shirt.

Regulus glanced around once more before looking down at you, “You’re probably right.” he said before he began to untuck your blouse, hands sliding slowly under it.

It was that which finally broke Lily, her vision going red. She stepped from beneath the invisibility cloak ignoring James' protests.

You let out a small yelp as your sister appeared from thin air, Regulus who had his back turned to her immediately drew his wand pushing you lightly behind him. His eyes went wide as he found himself inches from your older sister. It was your turn to pull Regulus behind you.

“Lily, What in bloody hell are you doing here?”

When James sheepishly appeared as well you gasped, “What is wrong with you both, are you stalking me?”

Lily looked stern, her arms crossed, “Why are you with him?” she seethed.

Your eyes narrowed, “None of your fucking buissnes. Now take your dog and leave.”

Regulus almost didn't believe it was you that was talking. He wasn’t accustomed to the harsh tone you used, your anger hardly ever directed at him.

“This is most certainly my business!” She spoke shrilly.

“It is most certainly not. Now get out.” You shouted.

“How can you expect me to leave when you're getting all touchy feely with a purist?” She hissed, grabbing at your wrist to pull you away from the boy behind you. You slapped her away so hard the sound echoed off the walls, “Call him that again around me and you’ll fucking regret it.” You growled.

Lily stepped back surprised by your sudden aggression but not backing down, “Please y/n, I’m just calling it as it. The sooner you realise that the better.”

Regulus felt his throat tighten as he listened, teeth biting into his lip as he had nowhere to look but his feet.

You stepped closer to your sister inches from her face, “Leave.” your voice struck heavy.

Lily responded just as harshly, “No.”

James shifted behind his girlfriend feeling like he was intruding on the fight which was taking place. Sensing his awkwardness you looked back at him with a searing gaze.

“Get out Potter, you have no place here.” You spat.

He was planning on shuffling away when Lily turned back to him angrily, “No James stay.”

You scoffed as he did as he was told, “Fucking pet.”

“Don’t speak to him like that.” Lily scolded.

“You're the one who's calling my boyfriend a purist.” You growled your mouth bitter at the taste of hypocrisy.

“Because he is one!” She bit back. “You really think he actually loves you after being raised how he was? With a mother like his?”

Regulus felt like he had been slapped, his cheek stinging as the older girl spoke.

“Don’t you dare bring up his mother.” You were shaking with rage by now, your face streaked with angry tears, “And how dare you speak ill of Regulus simply because of his upbringing as if his brother isn't one of your closest friends. How do you think Sirius would feel hearing what you just said?”

This took Lily back a step, her rage cooling a bit as she realised her mistake, “It’s different,” She tried to recover, “He isn't with his family anymore. Sirius has already broken away from them. He made the choice any good person would.”

Regulus felt her eyes on him as she spoke. She was no longer interested in her sister and instead focused on him. He felt like he was choking under the pressure of her stare. When he glanced up to meet her gaze he inhaled sharply. He hadn’t seen such hatred in a long time.

Your lashes were thick with tears by now, disgust and fury morphing your face, “Go fuck yourself Lily.” You spat.

She ignored you, gaze locked on Regulus, she had no intention of speaking to you anymore, “You stay away from her.” she demanded, “If you truly love her you stay away from her.”

You shouted lunging forwards and shoving your sister backwards. She stumbled back catching herself.

It was you who fell, your feet tangling, forcing you to the ground. You hit hard, hands and knees scraping against stones and moss which made up the floor. You couldn’t find it in you to stand up simply letting exhaustion and misery take you where you lay. You shook with sobs, voice cracked and raw. Lily immediately dropped beside you, hands circling your neck as she drew you into a hug. You fought her as you always did but she held on, letting you beat her chest with your fists until you stilled.

Regulus took a step forward but was stopped by your sister whose glare told him everything he needed to know. Tears pricking his own eyes he stumbled past the two of you and disappeared into the darkness of the dungeons. He didn't hear James shout for him over the sound of the ring in his ears. He wasn’t sure where he ended up, somewhere deep in the depths of the sprawling castle, dust coated the staircase he collapsed onto. Only there did he let himself cry, choking sobs rubbing his throat raw as he looked for someone to blame. His mother for forcing him into the terrifying world of dark magic? His brother for abandoning him in his abusive home? Or your sister for pointing out the truth he prayed you would never see? Regulus wished he could pass the blame off to anyone but he wasn’t stupid, he knew he had no one to hate but himself.

Regulus disappeared entirely for three days. Three days you spent desperately avoiding your sister who seemed just as adamant to talk to you again. You skipped meals opting for hunger instead risking meeting her in the hall. She would show up outside your classes forcing you to scramble out the back way or sprint away like a child running from punishment.

On the fourth day of your boyfriend's absence you felt yourself beginning to panic. Fear of him never returning, filling your head with irrational thoughts. It wasn’t like you could ask around for him, your relationship needed to remain secret despite the difficulties you were facing. It was then Lily cornered you.

You stared at the redhead as she blocked your only exit. “Lily, move.” You sighed exhausted by the past few days, sleepless nights not improving your condition.

She didn't listen, “Y/n we need to talk.”

"About what?" You scoffed, "I have nothing to say to you.”

“I just want you to understand why I,” She paused, “Why I said what I did.”

“I don't care why you said it Lily.” You said, “I don’t care if you think you were protecting me or saving me from some hopeless relationship. I honestly don’t care.”

Her eyes swelled, “How can you say that? How can you not care? I love you y/n I just want you to be safe.”

You stared at her, “I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just let me be happy.”

“He’s dangerous.”

You shook your head, “No, his family is dangerous. His situation is dangerous. He’s not.”

“Y/n please.” She begged, for what you did not know.

“Just stay out of my shit Lily.” you mumbled pushing past her and back into the hallway.

You spent the night where you always had, the small courtyard hidden between two towers of the castle, a statue of a woman draped in vines and flowers at its center. The moon was a small sliver, a dusting of clouds blocking the stars from your view. The shuffle of footsteps brought your eyes from the ground.

There stood Regulus, his face shining in the pale light. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, nose pointed at the floor as he refused to meet your gaze.

You stood quickly throwing your hands around his neck. He leaned into your touch burying his head into your shoulder as his hands found your waist.

You smelled delightful as always, your lips soft against his cheek and hands in his hair. Regulus hadn’t realized he was crying until you began to comfort him. Sweet words whispered into his ear as you only held him tighter.

“She’s right, you know.” He croaked, lifting his head to look at you. “You shouldn’t be around me.”

You shook your head feverishly, “You’re wrong Reggy.”

“I don’t deserve you y/n, I don’t deserve to be with you.” He sobbed, “I could never deserve you.”

“You’re right, love.” You mumbled, smiling through the tears that coated your cheeks, “You deserve so much better.”

♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~

taglist:@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1 @coldlilheart @suseptiable-bur-siriusexual @the-natureofme @trickylittlewitch @layaa-layaaa @rosieweasleyy @dracosgoodgirl @inglourious-imagines @princess-jules47 @daedreamss @d22malfoys

navi

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babymilkawa · 3 years

Note

your writing is AMAZINg it makes me go 🦋💞💥💗!!!!! could i get hunterxhunter adult trio, where you get minorly hurt during a battle and they’re worried but the night ends with soft cuddle and makeouts and just romantic(maybeeee some spicy) stuff 👀🥺💗 if you could a fem!reader please! thank you so much!! i’m so soft for all these boys but also they’re all smexy omg 🥵

tyy for the compliment nonnie 🤧and yes these boys could choke me then cuddle me and I wouldn’t complain ☺️

caring and cuddling headcanons with:

Hisoka Morow, Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer

fem!reader :)

slight nsfw, smut

work had been rough on you lately and Hisoka noticed

he saw the way you came home, dragging your fee, lazily throwing your things on the couch

he wanted to help but it took him some time to figure out how

so after some shopping, Hisoka set the room with light scented candles and your favorite warm drink so you could relax as soon as you got home

as soon as you walked in the door, Hisoka immediately went up to you to grab your bag only to see your face marked with some small cuts

he sighed, on top of that your eyes were droopy

it was clear that you were exhausted

Hisoka clicked his tongue at the sight of your face and took you by the chin

“have they been too rough on my y/n? this won’t do~”

while he went to grab the first aid kit, you let your body slump on the couch, laying there motionless

Hisoka came back and gently turned you around so he could tend to your cuts

you gave him a lazy smile and reached out to caress his cheek

Hisoka’s motions faltered a little, still not completely used to your affection after so many years

despite being exhausted, your hand trailed down to his toned chest, pressing to feel his muscles underneath the thin shirt

“y/n I think your mind is a little hazy from work and from the smell of the candles ~” you answered with a whine, making the man smirk a little

Hisoka carried you to bed and helped you change into your pajamas

but before he could put another layer of clothing on you, you grabbed his wrist and pulled him down into a drunken kiss

Hisoka happily obliged and tossed your clothes to the side, shedding off his own

your lips were eager and rough and Hisoka was reminded of the times when you’d come home miles from being sober

he was conflicted, he didn’t know whether to get you to rest or to satisfy your desires

Hisoka ended up pushing you back down on the bed and hovered over you, all while having your lips still connected

one hand kept his balance and the other roamed your half naked body

his hands squeezing your mounds and your sensitive places tore moans out of your lips

Hisoka took this chance to bite your bottom lip and to roam your mouth with his tongue

your own hands wandered over to palm him but he gently slapped them back down, leaving you to resume your relaxed position

pulling away, you looked into his golden eyes while trying to catch your breath

he smirked, “are you not tired anymore, my dear y/n? has seeing me gotten you this excited?”

seeing your face flushed, your lips glossy, Hisoka couldn’t help but moan and dive back into your lips, roughly sucking, nipping, and biting until you were trying to push him away before your mouth got too sore

“hiso..” your eyelids started to droop and the man above you chuckled

after giving you one last kiss to your lips, he pulled you into his arms and listened to your steady breathing before falling asleep himself

you had been out training, strengthening your skills while your boyfriend was home alone training in his own way and waiting for you to come back

you had taken a couple of hits to the face but you were used to the pain, it was all part of the process anyways

when Illumi saw these minor injuries however, he really tried his best to conceal the fact that he was worried

I mean you were still his s/o even though he knew that you were strong and could practically handle anything

even if it hurt a little, he didn't like the thought of you being in any kind of pain

Illumi immediately got to work and you fussed over him saying that you were fine

in fact, you were resisting so much that it turned into a little play fight and he was restraining both your wrists with one of his hands while the other was occupied with the treatment

then u started kicking him and Illumi went -_-

he had enough; Illumi went over to your drawer and you started breaking out in a cold sweat

knowing exactly what he was going to pull out, you mentally and physically prepared yourself, but at the same time your heart beat was going faster at the excitement of what was coming

after rummaging around, Illumi pulled out 2 pairs of handcuffs

“since you’re not going to cooperate, I’ll do it my own way”

your body turned to jello before he could even do anything but next thing you knew, your arms were stretched out, pointing to opposite sides of the bed

“now, do I need to hold down your legs too?” his dark eyes pierced your own

you frantically shook your head and satisfied, Illumi got back to work on your face

the whole time, you couldn’t help but stare at the man in front of you

the man you called yours

sometimes it was hard to believe

the curve of his nose, the thin lips that almost never smiled except when he was around you, the loose strands of hair, tickling his forehead

all of it fascinated you

Illumi could say the same

being so close to you gave him time to look at your own features

the blush on your cheeks still there, the soft and plump limps that knew just how to get him going, he admired you

“illu?”

your voice broke him out of his daze and the man realized that he was too focused on how tasty your lips looked that he had stopped his movements completely.

“alright, is that better?” he asked, moving to uncuff you

but you shook your head again, the cutest pout forming on your lips

“no? what could you possibly have in mind y/n?”

you only stared back at him, waiting for him to read your mind, to answer your desires

finally he sighed and released you, making you let out a whin

“Illumi~”

“you idiot I need to uncuff you for you to take off your clothes”

oh. right.

after shedding off every piece of clothing between the two of you, you jumped on his tall figure and he caught you by the waist, immediately diving into your lips

minutes passed and only three things clouded your mind: the soft pants coming from the man on top of you, the light tickles from his hair on your face and the ecstatic feeling of every inch of him filling you up inside

you had been accompanying the troupe on their missions but never actively participating, only because chrollo hated the idea if you getting hurt because of something he planned

this time, however, chrollo was being targeted so it was agreed that he would stay in the hideout while you and everyone else carried on with the plan

he hated it of course, not being able to know what was happening to you and if you were alright

but you assured him that you could take care of yourself and if anything were to happen, you’d call him

but you were wrong; the mission turned out to have so many scenarios that no one had even thought of, not even chrollo

so here you were, blood oozing down your cheek from a cut in your eye, staggering your way back to the hideout

you had lost your phone somewhere in the chaos and everyone else had urged you to retreat anyways

inside, chrollo could hear footsteps nearby and immediately went on full alert while concealing himself in the shadows

it wasn’t until he saw you coming and collapsing to the floor did he immediately jump down

you felt strong arms lifting you up and you saw chrollo’s marble face in your vision

“y/n, hey, talk to me” his hands gently shook you

but you just laughed, “chrollo..I'm fine”

“you don’t look fine” he mumbled

the rain outside had made your head spin, leaving you unable to support your own weight

chrollo carried you in his arms back into the warmth and held you while you slowly started to fall asleep

when you woke up, you noticed that you were still on his lap and no one had come back yet

“chrollo? what time is it?”

“it’s been a few hours since you came back”

you sat up quickly, instantly regretting the sudden motion

“hey, what are you doing? lay back down” he said

you didn’t lie down again but you sat back in his lap and looked in his eyes

they were soft and full of warmth, much different than when he was facing members of the troupe or anyone else

a dreamy smile planted itself on his face and chrollo couldn't help but admire the beauty in front of him

slowly, he leaned in to touch his lips with yours, then slowly left soft butterfly kisses to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, a cute nibble to your jaw, down to your neck, then up behind your ear

your hand instinctively went to tangle your fingers into his hair and chrollo let out a growl

then it was like a sudden switch had turned on

still holding you tight in his arms, chrollo began sucking and biting harshly at your sensitive spots, making you moan and claw at his nape

his lips wandered down to your chest and you tried to stop him

“shh, no one’s even here. I got lonely waiting for you”

soon, the two of you were naked, hidden in the shadows

chrollo had gently laid you down so as not to hurt you

your hand moved up to your head and you realized that he had bandaged the cut on your eye

smiling up at him, you guided him towards your entrance and he eagerly agreed

soft pants, echoing the hideout, as well as the sounds of your skin making contact

chrollo dipped down to bury his face in your neck, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist and to dig your fingernails into his back

you could hear his growls so close to your ear, the force of his thrusts increasing

after the both of you came back down from your climaxes, you heard footsteps belonging to a group of people approaching the entrance to the hideout

you frantically dressed yourself but both of your loud pants was enough for shalnark to call out and say “we’ll come back later”

###

a/n: I hope you liked it! requests are open!

hunter x hunter masterlist

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aalissy · 3 years

Text

Reverse Crush

Reverse crushhhh!! One of my faveeee tropes haha! I hope that you guys like it too <3. Lemme know what you think!!

AO3

Marinette sighed dreamily, flopping face down onto her bed as a huge smile beamed across her face. Her kwami flitted nearby, laughing quietly as she watched the young girl. Marinette dropped her chin on her hands, murmuring, “Did you see him today, Tikki? Wasn’t he just amazing? I just love him so much.”

She dissolved into a fit of giggles, hiding her blushing face into her hands as she squealed. Her legs kicked behind her excitedly, already replaying the akuma attack in her mind as she thought over their interaction. How could he be so perfect?

Tikki shook her head at her fondly before saying, “Yes, Marinette, I did see Chat Noir today. I’m very proud of you, too. You managed to speak normally to him, too. That’s a great sign of improvement.”

She lifted her head back up, glaring at her kwami whose eyes were glimmering back at her teasingly. Marinette was too giddy to argue, however, and she simply flipped over onto her back, staring up at her ceiling with a dopey smile on her face. She only snapped out of her daydreams when TIkki hovered above her face, waving a hand at her.

“You’re daydreaming again, Marinette,” she said, crossing her arms across her chest.

“I know!” She squealed, slapping her palms to her cheeks as another happy giggle left her. Flushing darkly, she looked over at the wall of pictures she had of Ladybug and Chat. Marinette then smiled softly at her favorite picture. It was one Alya had taken for her personal Instagram account. She and Chat had been out on patrol when it started raining, forcing them both underneath the same umbrella. His eyes were focused on her in the picture and she wondered what he could possibly be thinking about. Was it possible for him to like her back? Could he have feelings for his clumsy, little bug?

Sighing forlornly, Marinette trailed her fingers delicately over his cheek, wishing she could do that in real life. Turning to face the ceiling once again, she blinked in confusion when she heard a light thump on her balcony. Quickly, she shot her gaze over to Tikki and the kwami immediately took the hint, hiding inside the miracle box she had carefully hidden. Pushing herself up and off the bed, she carefully opened her trapdoor, her hand clenched into a tight fist just in case.

Instead of seeing an akuma or a burglar attempting to rob her, however, she instead saw the slouched form of her partner. He was leaning against her balcony, his ears drooped over his head as he stared out at the setting sun. Marinette’s heart stumbled in her chest as she pulled herself up, tilting her head at him in confusion. “Chat Noir? W-what, um, what are you doing here?”

Immediately, he perked up, whirling around to face her with a tight, forced smile. She instantly felt herself soften, her nervousness disappearing to be replaced with worry. Why did her kitty look so sad?

“Purrincess, fancy seeing you here,” Chat responded with a false, chipper voice.

Marinette frowned, scolding the butterflies she felt in her chest after he called her princess. Now wasn’t really the time for her to focus on the fact that he just flirted with her. She was going to help him. Just like how he helped her with so many akuma attacks. Taking a cautious step toward him, she swallowed a lump in her throat before gesturing at her balcony. Giggling nervously, she replied, “I, um, live here.”

“Right. Of course you do,” Chat grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry for bothering you. I can leave now.”

He extended his baton and Marinette immediately rushed forward, waving her hands in an attempt to stop him. Calling out to him, she yelled, “Wait, wait, wait! Y-you’re not bothering me at all! I-I just... is everything alright? You seemed sad.”

“That obvious, huh?” He gave her a small smirk, shrugging his shoulders.

She flushed faintly before nodding her head. Taking another slow step toward him, she sighed in relief when he reduced his baton. Perhaps Tikki was right. Maybe she was making progress. This was the most sense she had ever made around her partner. Plus, Chat was staring at her with a look she couldn’t quite identify. Her heart fluttered in her chest again before she shoved it away when he started speaking again.

“Come with me,” Chat spoke softly, extending a hand out to her as he jerked his head out toward the city. “I know a place that’ll be purrfect for the two of us.”

He winked at her and Marinette immediately knew that all hope was lost. She was surprised that she didn’t melt into a puddle right then and there. Instead, her words rushed together at a mile a minute, making no sense as she chuckled awkwardly. “M-me, g-go with you? B-but you’re a civilian and I’m a superhero. I-I mean you’re a superhero and I’m a civilian. Besides, I have fomework. Homework! I have homework!”

He blinked at her in astonishment for a bit before he threw his head back in a loud laugh. Marinette turned a dark red, ducking her head down as she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Was it possible to die of embarrassment?

“Well, that was pawsitively adorable.” Chat said after laughing. She immediately snapped her head back up to look at him in shock. The butterflies roared back to life as he gave her another wink, beckoning her forward with his still-extended hand. “Come on, homework can wait, can’t it?”

Biting her lip shyly, she slowly took his hand, squeaking with surprise as he lifted her up into his arms. Peeking up at him from beneath her lashes, he murmured to her quietly, “Close your eyes, okay? It can get a little windy.”

Feeling her heart thump in her chest, Marinette nodded, wrapping her arms around him as she closed her eyes. She leaned into his embrace, shivers tingling up and down her body as she realized her crush was holding her. This was the luckiest she had ever been.

When he put her down after a few moments, she gasped in surprise. They were currently on top of the Eiffel Tower, Paris’ lights twinkling around them. Whirling around, she faced Chat who was smiling shyly. Gesturing around them, he asked, “Do you like it?”

“Like it?! Chat, I love it!” Marinette said emphatically, “This is beautiful!”

He beamed proudly and, for the first time, she felt like his bad mood had disappeared. Feeling pleased with herself for giving him a genuine smile, she hoped that his bad mood would stay away. Marinette then slowly sat down to look out over her city, a small smile on her lips as she listened to the sound of traffic below. She was surprised when she felt Chat sit down next to her, his hand brushing against hers lightly.

Flushing a deep red, she shifted slightly, hesitant to bring up any bad memories. Sucking in a deep breath of courage, Marinette asked, “So, did something happen today, or...?”

Chat sighed quietly, placing his head on his hand as he murmured, “I was more tired than anything, I guess. My work can get exhausting. Plus...,” he paused once briefly to glance at her before continuing, “I don’t think the girl I like likes me back.”

She immediately felt herself stiffen. Surely he couldn’t be talking about her? She was always so obvious. Tapping her two index fingers together, Marinette murmured, “T-the girl you like?”

A wide smile spread across his face as he gazed at her. “Yeah. She’s a fellow classmate of mine. Very smart and very purrety, too. The thing is, when I flirt with her, she seems to take everything as a joke. I don’t think she realizes I actually like her.”

“Sounds like an idiot,” Marinette muttered under her breath grumpily. So it wasn’t her then. It was some pretty, amazing girl in Chat’s class. That girl was so lucky and she had no idea.

He laughed loudly, nudging her shoulder with his as his eyes glimmered over at her knowingly. “No, she’s really not. Purrhaps a little oblivious but not an idiot.”

Sighing quietly, Marinette glanced away from him, feeling slightly hopeless. If only she could slap some sense into the girl Chat likes. Looking down at Paris sadly, she said, “If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think the guy I like likes me back either.”

“What?! You like a guy?!” Chat immediately turned his head to look at her, a strange expression crossing his face before he backtracked. “I-I mean, w-what makes you think that?”

Chuckling bitterly at herself, she shook her head. “I can be pretty stupid around my crush. I say the wrong thing or I stutter on my words. I’m incredibly clumsy too. I’m sure he must think I’m silly. He probably knows I like him and is trying to save my feelings by not telling me.”

“Hey,” Chat placed his hands on her shoulders, bringing her gaze back to him as he spoke to her seriously, “Marinette, you’re an absolutely amazing girl! Any guy would be lucky to have you like him. And, besides, your clumsiness is adorable. I’m jealous of him already.”

She bit her lip to contain her beaming smile. Chat was jealous of... well, himself! Plus, he called her amazing! He may be in love with someone else but it was her he was bringing to the top of the Eiffel Tower and her he fought akumas with every day. The girl he was in love with sounded oblivious too so maybe she did still have a chance.

Feeling her face heat up, Marinette asked, “Really?”

“Really,” Chat smiled back at her, his hands still on her shoulders as he squeezed them gently.

Feeling giddy, she then murmured shyly, “I feel the exact same about that girl you like. She’s lucky to have you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.”

He blinked at her a few times before a soft, adoring smile spread across his face. “She really is.”

Marinette then turned away from him, a strong urge to press forward and kiss him filling her. Instead of doing that, though, she leaned her head against his shoulder, sighing quietly as she looked out at the city of Paris. This was enough. Even if Chat wasn’t in love with her, she could live with being his best friend. Having him in her life was just perfect for her.

#marichatmay2021 #marichatmay #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ml #mlb #marichat #marichat fic #reverse crush #reverse crush au #love square reversal

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 3 years

Text

Laughter is my Love Language

Summary: Logan doesn't laugh much when Virgil first meets him. Eventually Virgil learns when Logan is truly happy is when he opens up.

Warnings: food mention, some self deprecating humor. If there are more please let me know!

Ships: Logan x Virgil, Analogical

WC: 1, 664

General Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @im-an-anxious-wreck @logans-library @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @ace-in-a-shopping-cart (you had asked to be tagged in this a while ago, I hope it’s still okay)

Logan doesn’t laugh much when they first meet, which is somewhat of a problem for Virgil since he often relied on laughter to fill otherwise awkward silences. The problem was that Virgil was funny in the stupid way- which he blamed entirely on his dad’s humor that fell over to the punnier side. Crack a pun, reference a meme or as a last ditch effort self deprecating humor was usually relatable enough. Logan fell for none of those and more or less was just left confused by them- or he took the self depreciation too seriously and Virgil ended up with a heartfelt lecture on how important he was. Which, as sweet as it was, wasn’t the point of poking fun at something at his own expense.

“Boy Logan that sandwich is jam packed!” said Virgil sometime during their freshman year of high school.

Logan had looked at his sandwich in confusion. “There’s peanut butter there too- but yes it’s Crofters.”

Virgil fought to keep the smile on his face. “Yeah I know, it was a joke.”

“But it is packed with- oh that was a pun. Clever.”

“Here comes dat boi!” Virgil cringed at his own voice as the meme reference fell out of his mouth. He hadn’t seen Logan smile once that day and all attempts at conversation had fallen flat so...memes. Why not? Logan was on his laptop often enough he had probably seen what he was referencing at some point. Plus Logan was gliding very confidently on his skateboard and Virgil was suddenly feeling very tense and wanted to break it. Logan, unhelpful as he was, merely stopped and kicked the board up to tuck underneath his arm.

“‘Dat’?” He questioned.

“I-it’s...a meme. I was- referencing a meme.”

“Ah.”

“...yeah.”

Nailed it.

“That’s just me being dumb though- you know how it is.” Virgil let out a defeated huff of laughter and settled his chin on his arms. It was their senior year and he was talking to Logan about his current grades. Everything else was straight A’s other than gym. He didn’t like changing in front of others and the bathrooms were blocked off for whatever reason so he just didn’t do it. He took the fail but still needed the credit or he’d have problems getting his diploma, which was completely stupid and unfair but he knew it was his own stubborn fault and-

“I don’t know.” Logan hadn’t laughed at the “joke”, of course he hadn’t. Virgil sighed, opening his mouth to say something else completely stupid and worthless but Logan beat him to it.

“You aren’t stupid. Lack of participation doesn’t mean you’re stupid, it means there’s some other problem that needs addressing if you’re willing to take a failing grade instead of confronting it.” Logan turned to him with a serious look. Always so serious. “So, if I may ask, where’s the problem?”

Virgil blinked. “It’s stupid.”

“Virgil.”

“I just...don’t like…” Virgil turned into his elbow, cheeks reddening at how dumb the problem really was.

“I didn’t hear you. Can you please speak up? Or write it down if that’s easier.”

Snorting he decided to take him up on that, tearing a scrap of paper off his notebook and writing it down.

There was a pause and then: “Is this all? If you take the make-up class there won’t be nearly as many people and if you get there early you can be changed before anyone sees you.”

Peaking around, Logan’s face was so genuine, like he actually wanted to help. Virgil almost didn’t have the heart to say why that was also a problem but he needed him to understand. “I won’t know anyone in the make-up class.”

Logan screwed his mouth to one side trying to figure out why that would be something Virgil would worry about. His face brightened somewhat as he looked back to Virgil. “If it would ease your anxiety I could take the class with you. While I may not have to make up for the credit, it is open to sign up for extra if anyone so chooses.”

Virgil bit his lip. That would- actually really help, but he couldn’t let Logan do that could he? “You don’t have to.”

“I am aware. But going would be a nice routine and I would be very happy to do it if it meant you would be more comfortable.”

“You’re serious? You would really do that?”

“I’m always serious, Virgil. Of course I will.”

Maybe sometimes Logan not getting the joke was a good thing.

“L, it’s three in the morning. Go to bed.” They were in college sharing a dorm, and though Virgil could fall asleep with the lights fully on so Logan’s lamp wasn’t keeping him awake, it was the fact the other man was still awake that was bothering him.

Logan let out a short, humorless laugh and waved hi hand. “I’m almost done.”

Virgil hated when he laughed like that. No happiness behind it, only stress and exhaustion and irritation. Sighing Virgil reached over and plucked the pencil from his hand, shooting him a warning look when it seemed like he was about to protest. He closed the book and stacked it neatly with the couple notebooks he had and placed the pencil and calculator on top. Turning to his dorm mate he pointed to the dresser in the corner. “Pjs. Now.”

Slightly concerned when Logan only stood up to do as he was told instead of arguing he shrugged it off and sat back down on the bed. Logan came over a moment later, plain black tee drooping over one shoulder and sleep shorts slightly rumpled. They really needed to do laundry. Before he could say as much, Virgil was suddenly on his back, Logan’s head on his chest with his legs sticking straight over the side. Laughing softly he ran his fingers through the others light red hair, combing out the tangles gently while Logan relaxed into him.

“Logan buddy, I love you so much but if we fall asleep like this we’ll never get up again.” The other grumbled but took a breath and rolled off his chest, swinging his legs over to turn on his side and nearly kicking Virgil in the head in the process. Smirking, Virgil crawled up behind him and flopped with his arm slung over his side. He laughed again when he realized he was already asleep, arms askew and already drooling on the pillow. Snuggling into his back and hugging him tight he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep himself.

Logan sat at the table with a book flat on the surface, notebook close by as he made careful notes for the next curriculum. His brow was pinched in thought and his third mug of coffee was cooling beside him, untouched for nearly an hour as he fixated on his work.

Virgil looked back out the window as he finished drying a glass. Gray clouds were rolling in and it was already starting to drizzle. Good, they needed a good rain for the start of summer. Tuning in once again to the furious scratching of a pencil behind him he set the glass down and whirled around, racing over and catching Logan’s hands in his own to tug him up and towards the door.

“Virgil what are we- it’s raining! Virgil!” Virgil stopped for a moment to look and see if Logan was actually distressed but upon seeing more fond annoyance than anything else he grinned and stepped out into the downpour. He took away one of his hands and led Logan in a spin down the porch, feet slipping slightly in the wet grass as he maneuvered them around. Logan was smiling now, stress lines gone from his face as wet hair flopped into his eyes and obscured his vision. Virgil’s own hair was slicked flat to his forehead, emo fringe he would never cut hanging down to his lips before he shook his head hard to dispel the water. Logan yelped and flinched away before laughing low at himself, grin turning mischievous as he reached up above virgil’s head to take a hold of a tree branch. Yelling as what felt like gallons of water soaked him he stood there thoroughly soaked and shivering slightly before letting out a howl of laughter, Logan following right after. He was sure the neighbors could hear them but he didn’t care. Logan was laughing so hard he was clutching his sides, shaking with the effort of holding himself together.

This was what Virgil loved most. Logan didn’t always laugh easily, not understanding the joke or understanding what was meant to be a joke but making sure the person was okay first. When he did laugh, it was one shared with others over whatever dumb, stress free thing they were doing. It was unplanned and in the moment, something Logan and Virgil were usually both averse to. But here in the rain, or getting icing everywhere on their wedding day, or the shared laughed when they woke up together after yelling at each other the night before to go to sleep it rang out; it was clear and joyful and carefree- a language all on it’s own that neither of them needed to “get” in order to join in .

When they first met Logan didn’t laugh a lot, which was somewhat of a problem for Virgil since he often relied on laughter to fill otherwise awkward silences. But when he opened up he began laughing all the time, each one precious and kept close to the chest. Virgil collected them, hoarded them even, storing them like coins in a jar in exchange for the happiness he felt each time he was the one to cause such a beautiful sound. And as they giggled still through slight coughs under a blanket that night, he couldn’t be more happy he could speak this language with Logan.

This work is also available on AO3!

If you like this please reblog! reblogs help creators get their work seen!

#false writes #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #virgil sanders #logan x virgil #analogical #fluff #slight hurt comfort #tw food #food mention #self deprecating humor #so much fluffy fluff

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volleychumps · 4 years

Note

First off CONGRATULATIONS!!! You deserve all the love for the work you do ❤️ and let me tell you I squealed when I saw your requests open again 😂 might I ask for a cute dancing in the rain scenario? With Suga and Hinata? Thank you love -🍡

AGSAHIJS one of my fav requests in a minute, I hope you enjoy!

Dancing in the Rain w/ Sugawara and Hinata

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Sugawara

“Stop looking at me like that!”

“Oh, don’t mind me- it’s not like this is completely your fault or anything.”

Suga whines at your deadpan tone, and you chuckle a little at the fact that the setter had wrapped you up in his arms from behind as a sign for asking for forgiveness. You look out into the pouring rain before sighing, palming your face.

Maybe if you had left school on time, then this predicament wouldn’t be happening- the downpour was to be expected, but now you two remained under the roof of the volleyball club entrance after school hours, Suga being the last to shower and get out of the locker rooms from his team. You had waited, seeing pretty much everyone else leave before the rain could hit.

“Should we wait it out?” You bite your lip, reaching a hand into the heavy shower before laughing at the sight of Tanaka and Noya darting through the rain shamelessly, bags over their heads from a distance. “I don’t think any umbrella would-”

“Y/N.” Sugawara puts his chin atop your head, seemingly deep in thought as his arms drape around your waist before an idea pops in to the vice-president’s head.

“Why don’t we make the most out of this?”

At your confused stare, the gray-haired setter smiles a closed-eye smile at you before letting you go and shrugging off his black school jacket, letting it lie in a heap on the cement. You catch on immediately, sweat dropping as he motions for you to do the same.

“Suga I’m not running through the rain like those two-”

“Silly.” Suga clicks his tongue, walking up to you before helping you shrug your own jacket off, your confused look simply being responsed to with a small, nervous grin at the prospect of rejection.

“Let’s dance?”

You blink once. And then twice before looking out into the downpour, noting it was a little lighter before shaking your head no.

“What if-?”

“No what ifs.” Suga puts a finger to your lips before gently taking your hand in his. “Let’s live a little, love.”

“Something about this is telling me this isn’t Daichi-approved-” You protest as Suga shakes his head with a small smile at your antics, hand warm against yours as he gently guides you into the showering rain.

“And something about what you just said is telling me that I don’t really care.” Suga responds, twirling you around as you slowly try to get used to the cold feeling, a laugh bubbling up in your throat as he twirls you back into him. You place a hand on his chest, voice falling to a smaller octave.

“I...don’t really know how to dance.”

“Even better. Follow my lead.” Suga’s smile is warm and making your heart race, the cold feeling of now lighter rain unnoticeable on your skin as you find your lips curling up into a smile.

You giggle as he spins you around, hand secure on your waist that was oddly hot through your school-shirt as Suga guides you through a non-existent beat, humming dramatically before you clench the back of his shirt to get him to pause.

“What song are you even dancing to?”

“Are you insulting my musical expertise?” Suga hums as he dips you, grinning at the laughs that slip your lips as the rain pelts softly on your cheeks.

“What expertise?” You protest when he lifts you up again, Suga gasping in mock-offense before shaking his head.

“That’s it.”

“What-?”

“I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna lift you.”

“Sugawara Koushi don’t you dare-”

“Hm? What’s that? The rain’s too loud- I can’t hear you.” Suga tilts his head as you yelp, fake-angry protests filling Suga’s ears as he lifts you by the waist overhead, holding you out from a distance-

and then he pauses, amused smile dying on his lips.

Hazel eyes stare at you as your laughs die down, the cold rain now more noticeable than ever as a shiver gets sent down your spine, Suga’s usual playful glint now looking at you in complete, serious adoration.

“Y/N-”

“Put me down.” You say softly, smiling when he complies and lowers you slowly so his hands find your waist when your feet find the floor, raindrops falling from his gray hair as your thumb absent-mindedly traces over the mole near his eye, one hand on his chest through his soaked shirt.

“Isn’t this romantic?” His words are hushed as his usual grin is softer, face nearing yours with every second as you roll your eyes.

“Shut up and kiss me, dimwit.”

“Your words are so seductive, my sweet.”

You giggle into the kiss as he closes the distance, Suga’s large, precise hand coming to push gently on the small of your back so your bodies were pressed together. The heat radiating off the two of you was so warm, the juxtaposition with the rain making the kiss that more intense as Suga smiles into it.

“If I get sick I’m suing you.” Is what you whisper when he pulls back a few inches, Suga merely shrugging before his lips find your ear.

“Bold of you assume that wasn’t my plan all along so I could take care of you.”

“Really?” You blink as Suga cups your face, his forehead touching yours. “Because I wouldn’t take care of you-”

“Ouch.”

“I’m kidding.” You laugh, the rain seeming to lift even more as you droop your arms lazily around his neck. “Let’s get out of the rain, yeah?”

Suga sighs as if that were the biggest inconvenience ever, allowing you to tug him back to safety as you pull your hair into a messy, wet bun before glancing up at your staring boyfriend and frowning.

“What?”

“Nothing. You’re just too beautiful.” Suga hums as he drapes his bigger jacket around you, and you roll your eyes as Suga looks down at you seriously, hands not letting go of the sides of his coat as his hazel eyes seem to bore into you.

“A-Again?” You squeak as Suga nears you, causing the setter to simply chuckle through his nose, shaking his head before pulling you into a tight embrace.

“God, I love you so much.”

“I-”

“What the hell are you two numbskulls doing? Go home already!”

You both simutaneously flinch at the sound of the captain’s voice, causing you to look up in astonishment as Daichi rubs the back of his neck in irriation.

“And why are you two soaking wet?!”

“Why are you even here-?”

“Love, we should run.”

“What?” You manage out as Suga grabs all your things and darts off into the direction of the school exit as he laughs through Daichi’s scolding to get back, hand tightening around yours as you blink owlishly at the situation.

“I told you it wasn’t Daichi-approved!”

“I never said it was either!”

And so Sugawara Koushi ran off with you from his scary best friend , both of you sopping wet with laughter built up in your throat-

the sky now clear of any kind of rain.

Waiting it out would have been boring, anyways.

Hinata

“I’m so sorry Y/N-chan! I promise I’ll make it up-”

“Stop apologizing, Shou.” You nudge the orange-haired boy as you both stare out into the downpour, the pout on Hinata’s lips matching the evident depression in his eyes as he visibly sulks.

How could this happen? All Hinata wanted was to take you out on a date, and after weeks of finally working up the courage to ask you-

he forgot to check the weather.

“GAH! Why am I such an idiot?”

“Shouyo-”

“I brought you all the way to this fancy restaurant only for it to be closed-”

“Shou!”

“I get it if you hate me, I really do-”

“Hinata!” You cut him off, using his surname before laughing at the confused look he casts you after beating himself up. Shaking your head, you pull at the collar of the expensive coat he was wearing, knowing he probably rented it for the night in an attempt to give you what he thought you wanted-

You look at him sternly, Hinata swallowing back the lump in his throat as he stops freaking out. Your features soften as you sigh, putting a careful hand on the wing spiker’s cheek gently, as if any sudden movement would send him running-

“I don’t want you to think you have to try so hard for me.” The words you utter make a confused Hinata blink in bewilderment, but you continue anyways. “Look, I’m okay with chilling in hoodies and grabbing some meat buns down at the convenience store. So please don’t think you have to be someone you’re not to get me to like you, because I already do.”

You hold back a chuckle as Hinata’s eyes well up with unshed tears, the orange-haired boy turning around to wipe at his eyes in frustration that the tears had even emerged before turning back to you. His apricot eyes cast towards the floor, bottom lip trembling as you resist the urge to hug him.

“But you deserve the best, Y/N-chan-!”

“And you are the best, Shou. I’m really happy you invited me out tonight, okay?”

“But the night’s over now-”

“Who said that?” Your teasing smile manages to lift Hinata’s spirits immediately, but his face contorts into a confused one as you begin to take your shoes off.

“What are you doing...?”

“Take off that coat, Shou- no need to get it drenched and have to drop a few hundred dollars-”

“W-WHAT?!” Hinata stutters as you help him shrug off his coat. “I-Isn’t this too soon-”

He yelps as you thump his forehead, arching a brow while sweat dropping. “What did you think I was talking about? We’re going to dance in the rain, idiot.”

“Dance in the...?” Hinata’s confused stare makes you roll your eyes before tugging on his sleeve, smile gracing your lips as the race in Hinata’s chest finally eases, allowing you to tug him into the drizzling water.

“Right...dancing...” Hinata mumbles to himself as he awkwardly stands in front of you, and you laugh before taking both of his hands in yours, the warmth of his palms contrasting with the icy feeling of the rain.

“Here. I’m no pro, but I’ll start.” You secure his hands on your waist as a blush overtakes the apricot-haired boy’s features. Draping your arms around his neck, you tug him closer, Hinata feeling his breath hitch at the close proximity before looking everywhere but you.

“Relax.” You hug him to your body, ignoring the wet drops of rain slipping down your back as you rest your chin on his shoulder as you sway to the non-existent music. “You wanted to make it up to me, right?”

“Y/N.”

“Hm?”

“I’m really gonna dance with you now, you got that?”

Your eyes widen when Hinata begins to really dance, guiding you through the rain with a tension in his muscles that visibly relaxed when you seemed to be enjoying it. On the first spin, you hold his outsretched hand out before he twirls you back into him, your back against his chest as you giggle.

“Since when can you do anything other than volleyball?” You tease as Hinata laughs, his voice now the one of the boy you loved instead of who he was trying to be before, securing his hands on your waist again.

“Natsu makes me dance ‘er around sometimes’.” Hinata replies, stepping carefully through a light cascade of rain as the moisture drenches his orange locks, hands gripping your waist tightly as he smiles fondly at you. “Never knew all that practicing would pay off.”

“Good with kids too?” You mock-gasp as Hinata dips you. “Where have you been all my life?”

“Shush.” Hinata mumbles as his ears turn a bright red, only prompting you further as you continue to follow his lead with a quirk in your lips.

“No really, you took so long to ask me out because why?”

“Y/N stop teasin’ me...”

“You’re just so cute-”

“Y/N.” Hinata stops his movements, a serious edge to the usually rambunctious boy’s eyes as you still, teases dying in your throat as Hinata moves closer to you, hands tightening on your waist.

You clench your eyes shut, heartbeat in your ears as you feel his breath against your lips-

only to be turned around by the shoulders, the feeling of Hinata’s shaky heads pooling your hair into his hands.

“Y-Your hair! Ahaha we don’t want this to get wet, do we-?”

You chuckle nervously, passing a hairtie back to Hinata as you try to hide your dissappointment. Hinata pulls your hair into a ponytail, biting his lip as he internally curses at the lost chance.

“Let’s rest?” You offer after thanking him, walking back in front of the closed restaurant as Hinata stays in the rain for a minute, making a split-second decision before running past you to grab his jacket off the floor.

You blink as he fastens the clasp under your chin, the expensive material giving you warmth as you frown, not seeing the slight tremble and fear in Hinata’s eyes as he does so.

“Shouyo, I shouldn’t get this wet-”

His lips press tightly against yours before your protest can slip your lips fully.

As soon as he kissed you, he was pulling back, looking down the street while laughing a bit too loudly, not seeing that a wide smile had overtaken your features before he stutters out.

“M-Meat buns!”

At your tilted head, he slaps the back of his neck.

“You haven’t eaten yet, right?! I’ll be back in five- no three minutes top-”

“Shou-”

“I’ll run! I’m running, so uh- stay warm, don’t get sick okay!” You stifle a giggle when he trips as he begins to dash off. “You better not get sick!”

You laugh to yourself, putting your chin in your palm as you watch Hinata speed down the street and turning into a nearby convenience store, a pink hue dusting across your cheeks as you soak in the warmth of the rented coat.

The night wasn’t over, after all.

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General Works: @takemetovalhalla @kasandrafaye @savemesteeb @dreebbles @yams046 @therestless101 @dai-tsukki-desu @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @ashley-bambam @curiouslilbeast @wisepandaslimeland @deadontheinsidebut

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu hinata #hinata shoyuo #hinata shōyō #haikyuu sugawara #sugawara koushi #sugawara x y/n #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu hinata shoyo #haikyuu suga #haikyuu suga x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu anime #karasuno #haikyuu karasuno

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ari-writes-hq · 3 years

Text

Unlucky Days and Back Scratches

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Bokuto x Fem! Fiancée! Reader

Summary: Bokuto has a really bad day and just wants to be in the arms of his love

Words: 2,476

Warnings: Bokuto has a bad day (he's accident prone), fluffy fluff, and some grammar errors maybe?

A/N: I'm genuinely terrified to post this for it is my very first fan fic (that I started and finished and it took me 3 days to do so too). I'm honestly getting the confidence to post it because it's 12:20 am and @toru-oikawas-milkbread. Please be nice to me and I hope that ya'll enjoy <3

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It had been a very, very, very long and rough day for Bokuto Kōtarō. It first started when he had accidentally overslept, due to staying up late into the night making love to his beloved girlfriend-turned-fiancée and had completely forgotten the early start that Meian had scheduled for the team, he was late to practice by nearly three hours. On top of that, “Silent Mode” was turned on on his phone as well, so he didn’t hear the mass messages and calls from his various teammates.

Aside from waking up late, Bokuto struggled leaving the house. How could he leave his long term girlfriend of nearly four years who had just agreed to marry him, and someone who doubled up as his best friend, all alone in their big apartment? The beefy 6’2 male just wanted to stay home and wrap himself around his woman who slept peacefully next to him in all her naked glory. If she had been clothed, Bokuto probably would have only been an hour late to practice. He doesn’t regret it though, he knows that he’s going to end up staying late to make up for the time that he had lost.

When Bokuto finally made it to the MSBY building, he had tried to sneak his way to the locker rooms, but with his luck and the morning he was having, he had accidentally knocked over the janitor’s broom and mop that had been leaning up against the wall. Quickly, his coach and teammates, who were having a small discussion of what to work on next, whip their heads towards the noise, finding a sheepish and guilty Bokuto. Within seconds, he was bombarded by his coach and teammates.

Somehow escaping their wrath, Bokuto was able to finally make it to the locker room where he struggled to open his locker. Has the code changed? Did someone switch his lock as revenge for him coming in late? About fifteen minutes later, with the help of Sakusa, who was sent in by Meian, he found out that he had just been twisting the knob the wrong way. Then, while trying to change, he realized his jersey was far too small and as he was trying to get the constricting article off, he had accidentally tripped and fell over one of the metal benches. There is now a bruise on his left shin.

During practice, and after getting a new shirt, Bokuto’s work performance seemed to lack. He kept messing up his serves. If he wasn’t hitting it, he was missing it. Then at one point he had put a little too much force into one of his spikes, causing the ball to lose control and hit one of the managers in the face, they walked away with a bloody nose. The salt and pepper haired male never truly believed in karma until now. As he was trying to receive a ball, the ball then bounced up from his upper forearms and nailed him in the face… fifteen times.

On top of that, he couldn’t get any of the new moves down. It was concerning since he was one to learn decently quickly when it came to new techniques. Meian had even questioned him about his performance loss. Bokuto had no idea, normally he was on top of his game both in practice and games. So why is he suddenly having a hard time with everything?

After practice, which ran three hours late in the night, Bokuto thought his bad luck was finally at a stand still. Outside, the sky was clear, the stars were bright, well, assuming that they were since the city lights made it impossible for anyone to see them, and there was a gentle fall breeze, so, Bokuto decided to walk home rather than message his lover, who he believed was asleep.

Not even three minutes out of the ten minute walk, rain had suddenly downpoured. Clouds rolled in, hiding the once clear sky, lightning flashed the same gold as Bokuto’s eyes, thunder rang in his ears, and the once gentle breeze suddenly became rough. If not for the rain, Bokuto’s gravity defying, black and white hair would have fallen into its dejected droop.

Why does the world hate me today? He had thought to himself as he huddled underneath a building's canopy. Quickly pulling out his phone, he had checked the time, Midnight, Y/N’s probably asleep. Maybe Akaashi? He opened his messages and pressed his old high school teammate’s name before pressing the text box and sending a quick, Akaaashi, are you still awake? Y/N dropped me off at work today and it was really really nice out when I got off so I decided to walk home instead of catching a ride but now it’s storming. I forgot my bag so I don’t have anything to protect me from the rain. Please, come save me. Satisfied with his message, he pressed “send” with a hopeful smile.

Roughly two very slow minutes passed by before Bokuto’s phone went off.

Yes, Bokuto, I am awake. I will come get you. Next time look at the weather forecast. Where are you? Was Akaashi’s reply. Bokuto grinned at his phone quickly sending him a,

Thank you, Akaashi! I’m-, Bokuto raised his golden eyes to look around his surroundings, not entirely sure where he is himself. I actually don’t know where I am. A few moments after sending the message, Bokuto’s phone lit up, an “incoming call” from the former setter. Answering it, Bokuto pressed the “speaker” button.

“Bokuto, how can you not know where you are? You know what, don’t answer that.” The male on the other side of the receiver sighs. “What are some shops and landmarks around you? Street names?” Bokuto hummed, quickly looking at his surroundings once again.

“Well, I do know I’m not too far away from the MSBY building, uh, there’s a fountain outside a res- oh wait! That’s the restaurant I proposed to Y/N last night! I’m under a… oh I forgot the name of the roof thingy,”

“A canopy?”

“Yes! That thing! I’m under one of those across from the restaurant I proposed to Y/N!”

“Good, okay. I’m on my way. Do not move from your spot, I don’t want you to get lost… again.” From the other side of the phone, Bokuto could hear his friend unlock and open his car door. “You understand?”

The former ace chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “Yeah, yeah. Just hurry, please,” he basically whined. “I want to go home and cuddle Y/N. I miss her.” Akaashi rolled his eyes and hung up, causing Bokuto to pout down at his device. “Akaashi’s so mean.”

What seemed like an eternity, Akaashi’s car came into view. Bokuto, unsure if his friend can see him, raised his large arms and flailed them around, only stopping when the car came to a stop right next to him. Throwing the front passenger door open, Bokuto slipped into the seat and closed the door with a, “Thank you so much, Akaashi,” he put the seatbelt on. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

The dark haired man put the car in “drive”, starting his way towards the other man’s home, he replied, “Nah, you didn’t wake me up. I have my deadline coming up so I’m trying to finish everything as quickly as I can.” Bokuto nodded enthusiastically. The short car ride was filled with some talk of the past, bringing up some of their most memorable moments from high school, then, some of the talk was the two catching up, given the fact that the duo both worked two completely different jobs and have very little time to hang out anymore.

Akaashi talked about his work, telling what little he could to his friend, not wanting to spoil anything. Believe it or not, Bokuto read the little stories that Akaashi edits for his work, just because the two don’t see each other often doesn’t mean he can’t support his friend in other ways. After Akaashi, Bokuto talked about his day, how everything seemed to go wrong for him and all he wanted to do was to go home and be in his fiancée’s arms.

Soon enough, Akaashi pulls his car in front of a luxury apartment complex. Getting out with another, “thank you”, Bokuto closed the door and swiftly made his way into the building. Once Akaashi knew that his friend was inside, he drove off. The tall male was on a mission: get into the arms of his lover as quickly as possible. He knew that the moment she wrapped her arms around his body, even if he had to wake her up for it, his bad day streak would end.

Running up to the elevator, Bokuto pushed the “up” button and impatiently waited for the elevator with his thick arms crossed and a pout on his lips. Giving up with a huff, Bokuto makes his way to the stairs and runs up them, tripping at least five times and falling once. Why did I choose to live on the top floor? Y/N even said it was a bad idea. He grumbled to himself, tripping on the very last step that leads to his home.

Rushing to his front door, he removes his keys from one of his pockets and fumbles with said keys, even dropping them not once, not twice, but three times before he finally was able to unlock the door. Throwing it open, he yells, “baby, I’m home!”, as he takes off his shoes and places his keys on the hook next to the door. His golden eyes racl over the large, dark living room and the equally dark kitchen. Realizing that she is in fact not in the room, he makes his way towards their shared bedroom.

“Baby, you awake?” He slowly opens their closed bedroom door, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake Y/N up if she is actually asleep. Peeking in, his eyes fall onto her body lying on his side of the bed, her back facing him. “Baby?” he whispers, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, albeit louder than intentional. This caused the girl to jump in her sleep and whine.

“Baby, you home?” she called out, turning towards the door, mind blank, not realizing and too tired to care that it could have been an intruder. The tall man hummed in confirmation and quickly started to take his clothes off, wanting nothing but to be in his lover’s arms as fast as possible. “Kou, you okay?” Y/N piped, worried as she watched the man catch his foot in his shorts and nearly face plant had he not caught himself on the edge of the bed. He launched himself onto the female.

“No, bad day,” he mumbled, face smooshed into her neck.

“Wanna talk about it?” Y/N ran her hand through his droopy salt and pepper hair. The larger man removed his body from the female’s, a pout on his lips as he sat back on his knees, Bokuto began to talk about his “unlucky day”.

Half an hour and many tangents later, he finished the detailed story of his day. Large hands reached out to Y/N and roughly, but softly, pushed her to lay flat on her back, then, Bokuto took hold of her arms and splayed them out on the bed, he did the same to her legs too. Happy with her position, Bokuto nestled himself in between her legs and covered the female with his body like a blanket.

Smooshing her cheek with his, he let out a puppy like whine. “Hold me,”. He reached his hands out to her arms and moved them around his torso. “Want you to hold me, baby, please, need it. Need you to.” Bokuto rubbed his nose against her cheek before peppering kisses down her neck and nuzzling into it. “Please, baby.” He whined more.

Chuckling softly, Y/N tightened her arms around the man and moved her head to the side to place a soft smooch on his head. “Of course, baby. Anything else you need?” Bokuto let another whine out, shifting himself so he could get closer to the woman, even though he was lying on top of her with all of his body weight. “Kō?” Bokuto mumbled into the female’s neck, although she couldn’t hear him. “Baby,” she tapped on his back. “Can’t hear you.”

The man huffed and lifted his head up, his black and white hair disheveled, golden eyes glossy, and a pout on his lips. “Scratch my back, baby, please,” he whined and dropped his head back down into the warmth of his fiancée’s neck. He wiggled in Y/N’s hold, scooching up her body so he was closer to her ear. “Pleeeeeease, baby.”

“Ask and you shall receive, my love.” Y/N’s left hand that was flat against Bokuto’s back arched into a claw. Slowly and softly, but with some pressure, she traced her nails up and down his back, or wherever he specified (the nape of his neck seemed to be his favorite spot). Every so often, Y/N would look at her ring finger to admire the pear shaped engagement ring that the male on top of her had proposed to her with the night before.

“Baby,” Bokuto lifted himself up to look at the woman. Y/N hummed, turning her head up towards him to make eye contact.

“Yes, Kō?” He had a lopsided grin on his face and gave a whiney chuckle when the girl’s nails scratched up his nape.

Bokuto moved closer to his lover’s face. “I love you,” he said confidently. “You’re the love of my life,” he nuzzled his nose into hers. “Never wanna let you go.” With that, he pressed his lips onto Y/N’s and flopped back onto her, whining and cooing into the kiss as she kept up with her ministrations. Pulling back from the kiss, he cooed into her ear, “So good to me baby. M’ safe haven. Can’t wait to marry you.”

With that, Bokuto gripped at Y/N’s sides, whining and cooing as he pulled themselves impossibly closer. Placing a small, wet kiss to her neck, Bokuto nuzzled himself back into the woman’s neck. Within the matter of minutes of Y/N scratching his back and a, “I love you too, Kō. I’ve got you, my love, you’re safe”, the love sick man fell asleep peacefully, happy, and safe in his lover’s arms, a smile on his face.

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yunhowhoitiss · 4 years

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𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐩𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐧

𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫!𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐟𝐞𝐦)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.9k+ words

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, slightly suggestive, subtle mutual pining (?)

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you’re locked out of your apartment, and your sweet neighbour Mingi just wants to help you out. how long can you go until you realize he likes you too?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: silk ties make an appearance heh, mingi sees reader’s bra :0 (through a shirt, nonetheless), shy mingi in general, some good ol’ teasing

masterlist

Puddles pitter-pattered under your feet as you took brisk steps on the sidewalk. With your right hand, you held your bag above your head to shield your head from the rain; your left hand was busy wiping drops off of your face. Just a few minutes ago you were calmly walking home from the restaurant you worked at, with your eyelids drooping and feet sore, but heavy clouds interrupted your walk with torrents of rain. Cold rainwater was now soaking through your socks, squelching with every step you took, and your teeth had started knocking together in a chatter. You couldn’t afford to get sick now of all times, you thought, so you rushed to get to your apartment and punched in the building’s entry code as fast as possible with your numb fingers. You made your way to the elevator and ruffled through your bag looking for your keys, struggling to find them.

Just as the elevator dinged to signal its arrival, a man came through the building entrance; he was tall, dressed in a long coat, and he sported contrastingly cute glasses over his sharp eyes. It was your neighbour, Mingi. He smiled upon seeing your face, and you couldn’t deny that his eyes-turned-half-moons lifted your spirits ever so slightly. As you were lost in your thoughts, so was Mingi. He felt his heart jump upon crossing paths with you and admired your face as you remained distracted. Hell, he would’ve moved out of the damned apartment building a long time ago if you hadn’t been the one thing keeping him anchored there.

“Hi there,” he greeted as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Hey,” you responded distractedly, continuing to search for your keys.

As both of you entered the elevator, you were embarrassingly aware of the wet squeak of your converse against the tiled floor. Mingi pressed the button for the 3rd floor while you dug through your bag, still oblivious of his curious gaze on you. Frustration laced your expression, and it became clear to you that you had no idea where you’d put your keys. You thought back to the moment when you were closing up the restaurant you worked at, raking your memory for the location of your keys. The elevator arrived at your floor, and Mingi sent you a subtly concerned glance before exiting and muttering “G'night.”

You briefly lingered in the elevator when it hit you: I left them at the front desk of the restaurant. How could I leave with the restaurant keys and not with my own?

Stepping out of the lift, you wandered to your apartment door, lost in your thoughts. It’s too late at night to call my landlord for the spare key. I can’t go back to the restaurant either— there’s too much rain. It crossed your mind to call your best friend, but he lived a whole city away. You were so preoccupied trying to figure out your situation that you hadn’t noticed Mingi standing in front of his open door, deep in thought. At this point, he had caught on to the fact that you didn’t have your house keys. He watched you listlessly stare at your door and wondered if he could help.

“Hey, uh, you good over there?” he asked gingerly.

“Not really. I don’t have my keys. I– well– I left them at work.”

Mingi contemplated offering his couch for the night. No, no, that’s creepy. Or is it? I don’t want to seem weird.

“Do you… need a place to crash for the night? I have a decently sized couch, and I could fish out some clean clothes for you if you’d like." You curiously tilted your head, wondering why he was being so kind. This didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi, but he misinterpreted it and thought you were suspicious of him. "Oh, don’t get me wrong! I just figured you could use my hand– well, not my hand, I mean a hand– but my help, you know?” Mingi babbled.

“Well, if you really don’t mind, I’d gladly crash on your couch.”

Mingi’s shoulders visibly relaxed as you accepted his request. He nodded at his door, beckoning for you to come in. You followed his instructions to leave your shoes by the door and your bag and jacket by the couch. Mingi headed down a short hallway into what seemed to be his bedroom; you stood awkwardly in his living room, silently inspecting his apartment. It was fairly well decorated: an ivy green sectional couch sat in front of a cheap television. In front of the couch stood a glass coffee table littered with magazines and used mugs, in the corner stood a pretty industrial-style lamp, and you spotted about seven miniature succulents on the windowsills of three tall windows. Although the plants seemed to be dying, you commended Mingi for somewhat trying to maintain them. You heard his footsteps from the hall again and turned around to see what he had come back with. He held a thick blanket in one hand, and a pillow in the other.

“I hope this is warm enough; it’s the softest blanket I have.”

“Thank you, really, it should be more than enough,” you smiled at his earnestness.

He looked at you apologetically when he noticed your teeth chattering; you hadn’t noticed just how wet and cold your clothes were. Your body shivered and your arms wrapped around your front. You were unaware that the white shirt you wore did little to disguise what was beneath it, and didn’t catch Mingi swallow (hard) and avert his eyes. He dropped the pillow and blanket on the couch and turned towards you, hesitant to say his next words.

“If you want, you can take a shower to warm up; you could borrow some of my clothes since yours are pretty soaked,” he scratched his head and avoided your gaze, “If you’re comfortable with that, of course.”

As you took a quick look at your clothes you realized what he meant. Oh shit. What a day for a white shirt, huh? You felt heat crawl up your neck and cheeks out if embarrassment upon understanding that he had probably noticed your bra through your clothing. With anyone else, you wouldn’t have thought too much of it, but something about the idea of taking a shower and wearing his clothes all but made your heart leap out of your chest. Strangely enough, you weren’t uncomfortable in the least. An abrupt burst of confidence overtook you.

“Showering here and wearing your clothes… that’s more of a fourth date thing, don’t you think?” You teased, unable to resist the temptation to.

For a moment, Mingi was caught off-guard at your sudden change of attitude, until he finally processed your words. He laughed out loud at your cheeky comment and flashed you his signature eye-smile. You found it cute that he cackled with his head thrown back, mouth wide open. Your fingertips tingled, and the sound of his laugh set of a warm buzz throughout your body.

“A shower would be nice, though. Thank you,” you added.

He uttered a short “no problem” before nudging his glasses back up his nose. Now, of all times, your stomach gurgled in protest of being empty; you hadn’t eaten since this morning. The amused smile fell off of your face, now replaced with a frown and wide eyes. Mingi chortled upon hearing the sudden noise, finding it oddly endearing how embarrassed your expression had become. Cute.

“I’ll make us something to eat while you’re getting washed up. You don’t have any food allergies, do you?”

“Peanuts,” you tell him.

“Noted.”

He paced toward his kitchen– well, it was more of a kitchenette –and opened up the fridge, only to find a carton of milk and leftover pizza. He internally rolled his eyes at himself. You can’t even cook, dumbass, no wonder it’s so empty. He opted to check in one of the cabinets. From where you stood, you could see that it was filled with a variety of instant ramen and a lonely can of peaches. You struggled to hold in the laugh that bubbled out of your chest while Mingi was slightly embarrassed, but he grinned regardless.

“Do you know how to cook anything besides instant noodles?” you giggled, stepping towards him.

“Totally,” he feigned confidence.

“What?”

“Uh… microwave popcorn.”

This time you didn’t even try to tone down your laugh, laughing as if he had told you the funniest joke in the world. He looked down at you and observed the way you held your tummy as you laughed, spotting a faint snort in your chuckle. He just stood and watched you, ignoring his rapid heartbeat and the familiar butterflies in his tummy. The same butterflies he got every time you crossed paths in the elevator, or the times he happened to see you leave your apartment when he did. When you finally caught your breath, you spoke again.

“You know what? Instant ramen sounds good,” you beamed.

“Coming right up. As for your change of clothes, you’ll find some shirts and sweats in the drawers in my bedroom. First door on the right.” He filled a pot with water and opened several packs of ramen as he spoke.

Mingi’s bedroom was simpler than you thought it would be. In the far corner by an old-looking window sat his bed on a simple bed frame; the mattress was large for one person and just enough for two. There was no wardrobe to be seen except a long rack full of various clothes. The man sure knows how to dress. Mingi cared a lot about his fashion, after all. You spotted a black dresser and assumed they were the drawers he mentioned earlier. You checked the bottom drawer first and picked out a pair of black sweatpants, then moved on to the middle one. As you slid open the wooden drawer, it revealed a couple of stacks of socks, shirts, and underwear. Your cheeks heated up in embarrassment as you spotted pairs of grey underwear alongside a pair of banana-patterned boxers. You assumed Mingi had forgotten to warn you, and you smiled shyly before laughing at the pair of yellow undergarments. You dug through the shirts beside them anyway, only to find tank tops and t-shirts. Doesn’t he own any sweatshirts?

You continued rummaging through the bag as your fingers brushed against something uncharacteristically soft. Thoughtlessly, you pulled the object out.

Oh my god.

Your fingers were wrapped around two pairs of black and white silk ties, each delicate in your hands. You stuffed them back where you found them and closed the drawer with a bang, huffing a big breath.

“Everything alright, y/n?” You heard Mingi call from the kitchen.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine!”

“Alright, ramen’s ready in fifteen!”

You snatched a blue hoodie from the top drawer and hurried to the bathroom. You tried to focus on the hot water flowing down the curve of your spine, but curiosity plagued you as you wondered about the silk ties. Your attention drifted to thoughts of whether he may be interested in going out one day, or if he had already given his heart to someone else. You scolded yourself for being too nosy. He’s just being nice, y/n. Don’t get any ideas.

Still, you couldn’t ignore the warmth that flooded your chest every time you saw his face or met him in the hallway. An exasperated sigh escaped your lips; you were too tired to be thinking of something so trivial.

You stretched your arm out of the shower, but your hand was met with an empty towel rack. Oh shit, you had forgotten to ask for a towel. Luckily, the vapour floating through the bathroom kept you warm, but it wouldn’t be long before it dissipated.

Mingi was busy watching the noodles boil, his mind distracted with sound of your laugh. Your giggle remained imprinted in his brain like a song playing on repeat. Mingi sighed; he was in too deep. Subconscious joy painted a fond smile on his lips; he realized he probably looked quite ridiculous grinning at a pot of boiling noodles. Out of the blue, he heard you calling his name from the shower. He wasn’t sure why, but he instantly panicked upon hearing your distressed tone. Is she okay? Did she slip? Is there a spider on the wall or something? (He’d never admit it, but Mingi hoped it wasn’t the latter because he’s scared of spiders too.)

“Everything alright?” he asked from outside the bathroom door.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just forgot a towel,” you admitted.

“O-oh,” his face flushed as he sped over to the closet where he kept clean towels. He opened the bathroom door enough to fit his torso through and bashfully looked away– he knew you were behind the shower curtain, but he was having an emotional overload just from knowing you were even in his shower. It was best he looked away before having another issue to take care of. You dried off quickly, no longer being able to stand the angry rumble of your stomach. Mingi’s clothes were large, so they just barely clung to you– you were quite worried that they may slip off –but they would do for now.

You walked out towards the living room with your wet clothes in hand and laid them over your bag to dry. Mingi, as he set the pot of hot ramen on his small dining table, tilted his head to see you. Oh, wow. He knew his clothes would look big on you, but at this point, you weren’t wearing the clothes– the clothes were wearing you. He chuckled before he could stop himself. It was clear to you why he was laughing, or rather, who he was laughing at.

“Hey!” you put your fists on your hips, trying not to giggle. You knew how ridiculous you looked.

“What?” he looked at you, failing to hide the smirk tugging at his lips.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you purposefully pouted and whined, hoping to fluster him.

“Who says I’m laughing at you?”

“You think I look silly.”

“No, I think you look cute. Now let’s eat.”

Cute? Your playful demeanour ebbed away as you processed the compliment. Mingi looked you straight in the eyes, knowing what he was doing to you. He leaned back in his chair, putting his toned thighs in full view. “C'mon, take a seat.” He shifted his thighs emphatically.

You nearly choked at his words; your mind went places it shouldn’t. Mingi grinned in satisfaction upon seeing your cheeks burn red, and gestured towards the seat in front of him.

“The noodles are gonna get cold…” he teased.

You were shy all over again, feeling embarrassed for assuming he meant for you to sit in his lap. A little wishful thinking never hurt. You skittered over to the chair across from him and went straight for the noodles.

For nearly an hour, you both ate and drank as you talked about work, friends, everything in between. Your conversation never fizzled out, and you learned that Mingi was a lot softer than he seemed. The pot was now empty, except for some stray noodles, and both your stomachs were fit to burst. Post-dinner fatigue started settling in; your body begged for you to rest after ingesting so much food. Mingi put away the dishes, earning a “thank you” from you in return. He suggested you watch a movie, unless you wanted to head to bed already.

“No, no, I’m fine. A movie sounds good,” you assured him.

“Any specific genre?”

“Nope.”

Mingi settled to watch a movie called Ponyo with you, claiming it to be the “best fucking movie on earth.” You sat crisscrossed on the couch, next to Mingi who settled his feet on the edge of the coffee table and spread his arms over the top of the couch. You grabbed the blanket he gave you earlier and wrapped yourself in it, nuzzling your cheek into the soft fabric. Not even half an hour into the movie, you eyelids drooped tiredly, your head falling forward every now and then. Mingi spotted your head nodding forwards out of the corner of his eye, but stayed quiet anyway. A couple of minutes later, he felt your weight against his arm, only to find that you’d fallen asleep. He observed your sleeping form tenderly and noted that you were a soft snorer. Before you could lose your balance and fall forwards, he turned you with one hand and cradled your head with the other, settling your head in his lap. He brushed the hair off your face, unconsciously patting your head in soothingly slow motions. Mingi’s own eyelids started to feel heavy as well, his hand moving in increasingly slow movements.

He could only think of one thing before he fell asleep as he stared at your face snuggled in his lap, and his lips moved on their own accord before he could control himself.

“I really, really like you, you know that?” he whispered lovingly. His hand stopped its movements on your hair when he noticed the corners of your lips lift in an affectionate grin. (Mingi never noticed, but you’d woken up as soon as you head hit his thigh.) You nuzzled closer into him and wrapped your arms around his middle, feeling warm as ever. Well, I know now.

#kdiner #ateez fanfic #ateez scenario #ateez #ateez mingi #mingi #song mingi #mingi x reader #song mini fanfic #ateez timestamp #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #kpop #ateez imagines #mingi fluff #atiny #ateez song mingi #ateez smut

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we-dragons · 3 years

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I'm from a different dimension actually Chapter 7 Damian x reader

"Ira! I need my emergency kit!" Molly is pulling at my hair with a brush, I grimace at my reflection, she had put pearls and violet gems in my hair. Seeing as it already wasn't long bearly pushing past my ears, even though there aren't many of them in there it ways down in some places. I had already allowed her to put me in a ball gown, which I'm sure costs much more than my apartment building. It reminds me of peacock feathers, purples, greens, blues fill the cloth they blend seamlessly dark purple at the top and ending with blue at the bottom. I look at the matching marbled shoes and guilt climbs through me.

"Molly I don't need makeup, I'm already in a peacock dress, and there are gems in my hair. Besides the mascara is enough I don't want to spend an hour rubbing anything else off." Molly gasps, a hand gripping at her heart.

"Why-how could you say such a thing!" Ira hands Molly her phone, she screams. "We're going to be late! Ira put the bag back!" I'm yanked from my chair and raced down the hall within minutes I'm thrown into a limo with Molly's parents. Molly jumps in starting to yell at the driver shocking her parents who kept telling her to calm down. It doesn't take long to get to Wayne Manor, the courtyard is crowded filled with flashing lights from cameras reporters, and newscasts. They surrounded every inch with an exception of a semi-circle right at the front of the building where the car pulled up. Once more I'm pulled roughly out of the vehicle by molly, I nearly trip going up the stairs.

"Molly dear, we need to go in together!" My friend's mother pants from behind her husband seems to be in a similar position as me. Like mother like daughter.

I pull my arm away from Molly gently and smooth out my peacock dress, I sigh internally finding relief that I had personally told Molly to make the dress so it covered without it being tight. If I didn't then I would be pulling up the fabric like Molly who went not so modest. Not only had she blinged out she full-on black and high heels that pushed out her height. She looked good, and she made her parents match. When her mother finally catches up she puts a hand on her daughter's shoulder.

What happens after the incident leaves me at a table sitting behind a card with my name on it. Molly was seated somewhere else because I had used my own invitation instead of being a plus one. My eyes cast over the room soaking in again the decor of the newly decorated main floor. My energy seems to drain while I watch the people chat dance and laugh. No one was seated at my table and I was slightly relieved but I still felt odd. I had gone to parties with my mom in the past, ones that were held in her honor about her findings. I feel myself relishing in those memories I had looking back at the times she would pull a silly face at me while I was bored at said parties, or told a joke in some of her speeches. My mother was the expert in The Islamic Golden Era, despite not being a Muslim herself. She prided herself on giving credit to those who deserved more but had their work stolen by Europeans. But then, when she went on that Egypt and Greece dig she had found something that unnerved her. I knew what it was, and I wish I hadn't either. My happy thoughts turn sour, and I can feel myself grimace. I am tired...so tired.

"You made it, It's good to see you here." my head whips around falling on emerald eyes.

"Yeah, I had already told Molly that she could take me to the next party she goes to. However, I didn't know that if you came with an invite and not a plus one that you had to sit at a separate table." He snorts and sits down to my right.

"You were originally sat by her but father assumed I needed a friend," He shows me a card with his name on it. "so he changed Grayson out for you."

"Do you not have friends?"

"None close by."

"When have I accepted you as a friend?" He smiles

"That is a good question, but the same goes for me, you more someone I tolerate."

"Same here, Besides your a bad influence."

"tsk,...touche." his gaze looks me up and down and I have the sudden urge to say 'eyes up here'.

"You look tired, would you like to go to the library?"

"Usually libraries and tired people don't mix."

"How about a tour then, we have several artifacts my father has purchased that you might find interesting." He pushes harder.

"You want an excuse to leave, don't you? I thought my main purpose for being here was to talk to Mr.Wayne, not venture into the mansion." He sighs with his own body, visibly exaggerating the movements.

"My father is deeply preoccupied already in another engagement, he won't even be here for hours. Would you prefer to stay here doing nothing or would you like to leave?" He sounds rather annoyed while looking off to his left and scowling more. I follow my eyes to a group of three who I recognize from the cafe, all of them are pointing and smirking. I being to feel more drained at the thought of them coming here and stand. "Your home, where to first?" He shoots up, grabbing my hand dragging me through the dense crowd of people.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Amazing, this would date back to the early years of feudal Japan, this is Greek! Oh! There's a Khopesh and a Canaan Sickel sword on this wall!"

Damian scoffs sounding more like a laugh than a mocking tone. "You can tell the difference." I give him a look, feeling offended.

"Of course I can, you mostly can tell by the markings on the blade." I turn my head back to the wall slowly pointing to the distinguishable pieces of evidence. "This one is older Hebrew, and here you can see small hieroglyphics depicting the sun. Plus the metals on each blade are very different." I tilt my head back to him, his face stays indifferent. "You knew that already didn't you?" He nods and walks again.

"You must really like history, seems like you could talk about it none stop." He calls back.

"Did you forget who my mother was?"

"I thought she specialized in the Islamic golden era."

"It didn't mean she didn't know the history of other peoples. My mother developed research of anything she could get her hands on." I pause for a minute. "What about you, where did you learn."

"I was taught by some of the best in the world, my mother made sure of it."

"I see." We talk more while examining the objects displayed, I had fun just listening to him explain how his father got some of them. Though the collection wasn't huge it still made me a bit happy to see the objects. My phone buzzes, and I quickly take it out of my pocket.

Molly: Hey where are you we need to get going!

Molly: Dad got too drunk and now he's crying about the world.

Molly: We will be outside, Be there.

"Sorry, I have to get going, I'll see you at school later!" I run through the hall and snag as many macarons as I can on the way out. Molly waves from the car opening the door so I slide in faster.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Sorcerer found. Name: Doctor Fate, Subject: host"

"Anyone else?"

"Database shows,... John Constantine, and Zatanna. All other information is unavailable."

"Gather what they have on the crows send probes if you must."

"Proceeding."

Nightmare stands by the window waiting for his queue. I pull a scale out from the box and open the window. I hand him the scale and he chews effectively destroying the small miracle. "Remember stay out of sight if someone spots you wipe it from their memory and if you see a crow take the fight to the in-between and go for the kill. You have a little bit of my power with you only use it when needed." He purrs, rubbing his head on my hand, then jumps. He vanishes. I sigh putting the device in the box marked with an X just in case and push it under my bed. I head out into my living room putting some things away and cleaning here and there. Proud of my work I turn on the TV and sprawl on my sofa with a bowl of popcorn. Reruns of Highlander play on one of my favorite channels, I smile at my luck and sing to the theme song.

*Thunk thunk thunk*

I jump at the sound, I hear the noise again and follow it to my kitchen bat in hand. I flip on the light and smack my face, a very wet robin scowls at me through the glass. Only then did I notice the rain, and I pray that Nightmare is staying safe. I open the door and let him in, he mutters a thank you while walking in dipping water on my floor.

"Not to be rude, but is there something you need?" He ignores me and continues dragging water on the floor to the living room.

"Robin?" I catch up to him, he pulls something out from his ear and stuffs it in his pocket.

"I would like to stay here for a little while"

"How long is a little while, will I need to pull out the bed in the couch?" He gives me a look.

"There's a bed in your couch?"

"Sometimes I want to watch TV while I do my homework, laying down here makes it easier." I go to the bathroom to pull out some towels.

"Where was this when I was heavily injured?"

"I'm sorry, but the fact that you were bleeding was more concerning. I also put new sheets on the bed and you broke a perfectly good window. There is still blood on my cushions, and you wanted me to place you on the bed?" grabbing the biggest fluffiest towel in the bunch walking back out to the living room.

"You still on about that?"

"It was expensive!" I hold out the towel, he takes it and places his yellow cape in my hand. I frown but head to the coat rack hanging the heavy fabric on the highest rung. I feel short noticing its length, I turn back to Robin who's sat down on the couch the large towel engulfing him completely minus his hair. The black strands stuck oddly to his face and drooped sadly, I almost laugh because he looks like a sad cat. Like Nightmare whenever I give him a bath, I think I have a picture of that somewhere. "Did you want something to drink or eat?"

"Why is it that every time I come here you offer something?"

"It's a hospitality thing I got living in Minnesota, it's just being nice. Besides, you work to protect people, don't you? It only makes sense that I offer you something, I doubt you get paid to do your job. I bet you have countless scars from just doing so, I can do my part and help you feel comfortable. Call it a form of respect."

"Tsk."

I stroll into the kitchen, "Well, I suppose I could give some soda, tea, or water after all you left plenty on the floor."

"What happened to respect?"

"Well, I have feelings to sir! Tossing my words aside like that, I shouldn't even feed you." I poke my head back out, I smile at his scowl while he in turn glares at me. "Now for once, I am out of tea but I have several cans of cherry coke and some popcorn and macarons from a party I went to earlier. How about that?"

"That's fine." I hum grabbing what I needed and plopped back down in my seat handing him the coke. I place the brightly colored macarons and some chips I found between us along with the popcorn. I let myself get absorbed into the Highlander again just as MacLeod beheads another immortal and gains his Quickening.

"What is this?" My Jaw drops while I look at him concerned.

"Just how uncultured are you." His face flushes and his face twists he opens his mouth but i stop him. "Say no more, I will be right back." I come out with my computer and pull up VUDU opening season one of the show. "Sit back buckaroo, now your in for the long haul. Now right now all you need to know is 'There can only be one." His face contorts in confusion, but gives in and moves closer.

"I'm not going to get in trouble with Batman am I." He smirks.

"Most likely."

"Dammit."

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a-solitary-marshmallow · 3 years

Text

Rewind Chapter 10 - A Well-Deserved Rest

Me: "Now that we're reaching the end, the chapters will come a lot faster" :) Me now, a month later, sweating: "Okay so that was a lie"

My bad! Been pretty busy and I completely forgot to update this fic. Welp, hope you guys enjoy the chapter <3

________________________________________________________________

Stan’s awareness came back to him in little bits. The first thing he noticed was what his skin stung all over – like when he and Ford had gotten sunburnt on the beach, back when they first found the Stan ‘O War. It hurt when he moved his face. The next thing that came to him was the feeling of sticks and leaves and snow under his knees. His breaths were rasping in his throat, and sparks pitter-pattered to the ground before him. Ford’s fingers were digging into his arm and there was a triangle-shaped sunspot in his vision where the explosion had burned into his eyes. His heart was pounding, probably full of that chemical Ford talked about one time – ad-reny-lin?

“Oh mah lord!” Fiddleford’s voice sounded, muffled in Stan’s ears, high-pitched and breathless. “Oh my – are you two alright? Stanley, Stanford? Yer okay, right?”

“Um.” Stan did a quick mental once-over. “Yeah. I’m good.”

He tried to wriggle out of Ford’s grip but his brother was holding tight, breaths coming quick and fast. Stan managed to twist around to catch sight of Ford’s stunned expression. His cheeks and nose were a sunburned pink and he stared at where the triangle had just been with wide eyes.

“Ford, let me go.”

“What?” The scientist blinked, before quickly realizing who had spoken and bursting into action. “Stanley! Are you hurt? You were so close to the explosion-”

Before Stan could speak up Ford had adjusted his grip, grabbing Stan’s shoulders to scan him for injuries. Stan took the opportunity to look around. The whole clearing was kinda scorched, snow steaming where Bill had been only moments ago. The smell of burning filled his nose and he wrinkled his face up in displeasure, which only made it sting more.

And there was someone rushing towards them – Fidds! The thin scientist clutched the rifle to his chest with bandaged-up hands as he sloshed through half-melted snow.

Ford was still fussing, like their mother used to when one of them came home with a scraped knee or bloody nose. Stan pushed his hands away (one of which was bleeding through a temporary bandage, what happened to his hand???) “Ford, getoff! I’m fine.”

Ford snatched his hands back, a weird look on his face, before his eyes lit up as Fiddleford reached them. He grinned up at his old friend with something like amazement, and for a moment he looked kinda how Stan remembered him – a kid, all full of excitement and curiosity and shiny eyes.

“It worked. I can’t believe it worked!”

“Ah’m just glad I hit the bugger.” Fiddleford’s voice was still high and reedy – at least, more so than usual. “Look, I’m happy yer okay and all but let’s take this back to the house. Who knows what creepy things are hidin’ out here in the woods.”

Ford stood and the adults started talking about boring things. Stan did not get up yet. He took a deep breath and felt his heart rate begin to slow and suddenly realized that he was very tired.

It seemed kind of… anticlimactic, if Stan was being honest. He was expecting a huge showdown, during the pouring rain or a snowstorm, with fire in the background and maybe some lasers and explosions.

Instead he got a bully of a demon, scraped knees and Ford clutching him like his life depended on it.

Once Stan stood up, he quickly realized that those warm and fluffy boots Bill had created had disappeared alongside the demon, and his feet were numb again. It figured. He could probably walk back, but it would hurt like crazy. How long did it take to get frostbite? If he lost a toe or something it would be pretty cool. Babes loved scars, right?

Then again, seeing how every bone in his body felt like it was made of lead and his eyelids kept drooping shut on their own, maybe he couldn’t walk all the way back. He rubbed an eye with his fist and cast a glance at the two adults nearby – Ford insisting that the other man needed to go to the hospital to get his burns treated, Fiddleford retorting that he, in fact, did not. Fidds wouldn’t be able to give him a lift, not with how both his hands were injured.

Stan cringed. It was his stupid fault that Fidds had been hurt at all – he’d gotten burned trying to fix Stan’s dumb mistake. If Stan had just used his brain, not been such a moron, not messed with Ford’s experiments, then none of this would have happened in the first place. Why did he ever think he could help? Stan was just a no-good ignoramus like Pa always said-

“Stanley?” Ford was looking at him now, concern in his eyes, and Stan swallowed down his shame and instead reached out with grabby hands. Ford choked.

“My feet hurt.” Stan said flatly as a way of explanation. “Gimme a lift.” If Ford really felt sorry for saying all those mean things, then didn’t he owe Stan that much? That was how the adult world worked, right?

His brother had a confused look on his face, something that would have been funny if Stan was not falling asleep on his feet and feeling very cranky. “I – I don’t want to push your boundaries. I know I haven’t been fair to you recently, and if you don’t want me to touch you-”

“Ford I’m gonna get frostbite.”

“It’s – what do you – you’re not wearing shoes!”

_______________________________________________________________

The doctors at Gravity Falls hospital were fairly used to Ford turning up with the strangest injuries. Of course, he only went there when Fiddleford insisted. The man was terrible at following his own advice though, so Ford had to bully him into getting his injuries checked out as well. The only qualified doctor there (he was assuming the pixies that worked out of the hospital’s parking lot didn’t have valid medical licenses) took one look at the party and waved them in with a sigh.

While Ford and Fiddleford faced their treatment, Stan refused to be awake. The child had fallen dead asleep on Ford’s shoulders soon after they left the scorched clearing, and proceeded to snore in his ear the whole way to the hospital. After a quick examination (made more difficult by Stan sleepily waving away the annoyed nurse) he was declared just scraped up and ‘sunburned’. Ford, on the other hand, was subjected to the time-wasting procedure of getting stitches. Honestly, the wound wasn’t even that big! Sure it hurt, but a few painkillers and he would be back at peak condition.

Stan did not wake up on the way home. He also did not wake up when Ford placed him into his bed and tucked the blankets up to his chin. Fiddleford, hovering behind Ford anxiously, peered over his shoulder at the snoring boy.

“Is – is he okay? He’s sleepin’ awfully heavy there Stanford, are ya sure he didn’t hit his head at all?”

Ford let out a snort, fiddling with the bandages wrapped around his injured hand. “Are you kidding? Stan always sleeps like the dead. He once slept through an explosion when I messed up my chemical formulas in high school. His bed had ash on it. When he woke up the next morning he asked me where my eyebrows were.”

Fiddleford quirked an eyebrow. “Well, I guess we don’t need to worry about wakin’ him up. Come on down to th’ kitchen now – I think we need to have a talk.”

“…about what?”

Fiddleford fixed him with a stare and Ford wilted. “How about the demon ya summoned? All that junk with the portal? How yer brother got turned into a kid and ended up havin’ to shoulder all this? Or about watchin’ me go half mad and not thinking that, just maybe, the whole portal deal was dangerous?”

Ford winced. Fiddleford patted him on the shoulder, lightly – an olive branch extended across the yawning chasm between them. Ford didn’t know how to begin breaching that gap.

“O’ course, you didn’t deserve what happened to you either. So for once let’s put aside the pride and stubbornness and just talk.”

His friend’s eyes were pale blue and determined, and his hands were still shaking, and Ford didn’t deserve this kindness. He nodded.

“Okay.”

_______________________________________________________________

Stan woke up and immediately wished he was still asleep.

His skin stung all over, his face hot and itchy against the pillow he was curled up against. His feet ached and there was a crick in his neck, like he’d been thrown around on a rollercoaster. The sound of light scritching filled his ears – the scratching of a pen on paper from somewhere close by.

Being awake was overrated anyway. He tried to ignore the stinging and burrowed deeper into his blankets.

…nope, he was awake for good now. Darn it.

Stan peered up sleepily, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting. Ford’s room again? This felt weirdly familiar, like when he’d first woken up in the future. And like that time Ford was across the room at his desk, scribbling away in his fancy journal.

Stan rubbed his eyes and slung his legs over the edge of the bed, carefully dropping to the floor below. It was cold on his aching feet but he could stand, which was a plus! So he probably didn’t have frostbite.

Stan yawned and headed across the room to where his brother was frantically journaling.

“Mornin’, Sixer.”

“Oh! Good morning, Stanley.” Ford clicked his pen and looked around. Stan muffled a shriek.

“Oh geez! What’s wrong with your face?”

Ford’s face was green and shiny and very not normal. The scientist rolled his eyes and explained as though it was obvious, “It’s just a burn gel. I developed it to be far more effective than the regular medicinal kind. Now that you’re awake, you should put it on too.”

Stan let out a nervous laugh. “Uh, no thanks, I think I’m all better now-”

Ford caught him by the shirt before Stan could bolt. He kicked and complained as his brother produced a tube of gel.

“Don’t you dare put that on me, it looks like snot-”

Ford smeared a bit on his cheek.

It… actually made the pain go away. Stan stilled as the cool gel took effect, numbing the stinging of his skin. Ford let him go and offered him the tube. Stan wanted to smack it out of his hands just to stop Ford making that smug face, but his skin really stung…

He took the tube.

“Better now?” Ford said, annoyingly smug. Stan poked his tongue out. “Very mature, Stanley.”

“I’m not the adult! I’m not supposed to be mature.”

“That’s very true.” Ford turned around in his chair and continued writing.

Once Stan was done covering his face in gross-looking gel he stretched up on his tiptoes to see what Ford was doing. The nerd had one of his journals and he was writing in a new entry, a bunch of crumpled-up pieces of paper littering the table. Even if Stan had been good at reading, he doubted he would be able to understand Ford’s loopy scribbles.

“Where’s Fidds?” Stan asked after a moment. Ford reached the end of the page and flipped over to a fresh one.

“He’s gone home to see his family. Now that Bill isn’t a threat anymore he wants to mend bridges, so to speak. I… also need to do that.”

Ford looked around to meet his eyes and ugh, he was going to say something sappy wasn’t he? Stan reached up to try and pull himself onto the desk, but he didn’t quite have the upper body strength and ended up kicking in the air. Ford sighed, brushed his journal to the side and lifted Stan into its place. He swung his legs awkwardly.

“…I have an apology to make.” Ford said eventually. Stan tilted his head. “Listen, Stanley. I’ve recently come to terms with the fact that I – well, I haven’t been fair to you. I let anger cloud my judgment for years, I valued that anger more than my own brother. I’m sorry.” Ford lifted a head to rub at his neck, eyes darting around the room but never landing on Stan’s face. “We’ve both made mistakes, obviously, and neither of us is without blame, but… ugh, that’s not how you apologize.” He seemed to pull himself together and try again. “What I’m saying is that I was unfair to you. I was hurt so I hurt you, and I think I may have ruined your life-”

Stan burst out laughing.

He didn’t mean to laugh, honest, but the sight of Ford’s nervous, sincere expression covered in green goo was just too much to handle. He tried to stifle his giggles with his hands, caught sight of Ford’s shocked face, and burst out laughing again so hard that his ribs hurt.

“I – this is funny to you? I’m trying to apologize-”

“No, it’s not that!” The hurt in Ford’s voice made everything a little less funny. Stan opened his mouth to explain, choked on his own spit and went into a coughing fit. It turns out, it’s hard to speak when you’re hacking your lungs up. Ford seemed to take pity on him and thumped him on the back until Stan could breathe again. “It’s just-” Another cough. “You look so funny, Poindexter.”

Ford’s eyebrows furrowed, and Stan pointed at his own green face to demonstrate.

“We look like ogres and you’re choosing now to be all sappy and sorry. I mean, you gotta see that it’s a bit funny.”

“…I suppose.” The corner of Ford’s mouth lifted and he didn’t look mad, so Stan took that as a win. He paused, trying to understand everything that Ford had just thrown at him. Most of it was just confusing, and Ford really seemed to have decide that the weird dreams were memories even though Stan didn’t get most of them. He wasn’t dumb though. That science fair thing actually had happened, with Stan ruining Ford’s project and getting kicked out. Reaching out to his brother and having the curtains being closed in his face – that had really happened.

As for the rest, all those dark and depressing ones, he kinda hoped they were just dreams. If they weren’t, if they were real, he wasn’t sure he wanted to live through them.

…no, wait. He already had lived through them, hadn’t he? He just couldn’t remember it. Because these were memories he’d lost and was getting back, Ford said so. Stan wondered what kind of person he’d ended up being. Probably cool and badass. With a sword. No, knuckledusters, those were way cooler! And maybe an eyepatch.

He got the sense that a grown-up him with all those memories and experiences would be angrier, but he couldn’t imagine any version of himself turning their back on their brother.

“I mean, I don’t think you ruined my life.” Stan reasoned, making Ford blink. “It was Pa that kicked me out, right?”

“But it was my fault-”

“And probably mine too. I make plenty of mistakes. You remember that time I kinda accidentally stole Pa’s medallion because I broke the case and panicked?”

Ford let out a little laugh. Stan reached out to punch him in the shoulder.

“Look, I dunno, I’m a kid. You gotta talk to grown-up me. But I’ll always forgive ya, Ford. Otherwise I’d be a hip-oh-crit.”

“The word is ‘hypocrite’.” Ford muttered quietly, and Stan could have sworn his brother’s eyes were pink and shiny. He decided to be very cool and nice and not mention it.

“But!” Stan pointed a finger at Ford’s nose and the man went cross-eyed looking at it. “I’m still mad about you being a jerk. You gotta make up for that.”

“…what do you want me to do?”

Hm. Stan hadn’t thought this far ahead. He paused as he thought. “You have to… take me on an adventure! And I get to ride on your shoulders and be tall whenever I want.”

Ford opened his mouth to argue, and then closed it again. Stan fist-pumped triumphantly.

“Yes! No takebacks! I wanna go beat up those unicorns!”

“Sure, Stan.” Ford let out a long-suffering sigh, but not the serious kind – the joking kind that meant he was having fun. It felt nice. It felt like coming home.

#fic #my fic #gravity falls #the stans #rewind #chapter 10

27 notes · View notes

secondhand-trash · 4 years

Text

Love at First Bite

A/N: we love a man who can cook where can I find myself an osamu (and yes this is an excuse for me to write about food)

Pairing: Miya Osamu x reader

Description: Your story with Miya Osamu began with tears, rain, and really good food.

Word count: 5270

Playlist:

Making Breakfast//Twin Peaks

Sunday Kind of Love//Etta James

Baby I’m Yours//Arctic Monkeys

You met Miya Osamu on what felt like the worst day of your life.

“I don’t feel the same about you anymore.”

The words that your boy- no, ex-boyfriend said to you rang in your ear. You could not get it out of your head ever since he uttered those few words in front of you, leaving you dazed and alone on the street as he turned away without even looking back.

He did not even look back, not even bothering to see the look on your face and hurt in your eyes as the reality sat in.

I don’t feel the same about you anymore.

What the fuck was that even supposed to mean? Your face heated up at the anger that was starting to boil up. It was humiliating how you just stood there and say nothing as he walked away, you could have at least say something smart, or demand an explanation. But instead, you stayed still like a block of wood.

Pathetic, maybe that was why he got tired of you.

It did not work. You tried so hard to shake off the echo in your head of last voice you ever wanted to hear at that moment but the more you tried, the louder it was in the void of your mind. You hated how easy it was for him to walk away and how hard it was on you, you hated how you could barely even think straight as you mindlessly walk along the straight road ahead, taking turns whenever there was one without even having a single thought.

There was a moment when you stared at his figure as he walked away and felt the urge to say something that would make him stay, and that was the worst part of it all.

How sad, how pathetic.

The streets were getting dark and one by one, the shops along the sides dimmed their lights. It was late and you should go home but just the thought of being along made your stomach twisted into knots.

There would be no one waiting for you when you get back, which you should have gotten used to by now. But being by yourself was one thing, the thought of there being no one you could go to anymore was another.

You had not felt so lonely in a long while, and you weren’t sure how to deal with this foreign hollowness.

You did not want to be surrounded by nothing but four walls. You knew that the voices in your head would be clearer and louder when you were accompanied by nothing but silence. At least when you were out, wandering on the empty streets, you had the eyes of the people walking by to keep you from breaking down completely in fear of the looks you might get, a sad attempt at convincing yourself to stay strong.

But the reality was that the emotions that were boiling up at the depths of your chest were starting to bubble up, and you had never wanted to cry so badly.

You grimaced when you felt the bead of water rolling down your chin, then you realised that it wasn’t you.

It was like the sky could sense your conflict and it decided to cry on your behalf when you were o hellbent that you wouldn’t be vulnerable. It started off as sparse drops of water on your face until the silver strings of water became a downpour.

You were a mess as you scrambled to find cover, clutching your bag close to your chest as you ran under the rain, barely able to see what was in front of you. Amidst the heavy veil of rain that covered the street, you spotted a distant glow. A warm light from afar, and with your clothes soaked through and your brain tangled by every train of thought that had been bothering you, your feet moved on its own.

You just wanted somewhere you could be, somewhere you could hide for even just a second.

“I’m sorry, we’re closed-”

The man standing by the counter turned around at the sound of the wooden door being slid open. He was holding a cup in hand and a towel in another, clearly in the middle of closing things up. He froze in place when he saw you standing by the door, drenched from top to bottom and your eyes looking down. Your shoulders were drooping down, your lips quivering as your chest rose and fell to the heavy breaths that you were struggling to maintain. You looked like a mess and shame burnt through your face when you realised you were barging into someone getting ready to be finished with their day, unlike you who were just finding a place to escape to.

He paused and stared at you for a while before slowly opening his mouth again, “Welcome, take a seat wherever you like.”

You felt the lump at the back of your throat at this stranger letting you stay even though it was likely that you being there wouldn’t be anything but helpful to his work. Your dignity wanted to say that you wouldn’t want to be a bother and that you would be leaving soon but as the loud crack of thunder made your body shock, you swallowed it down and muttered a soft thank you as you pulled out the tall stool right in front of the bar table.

The crisp sound of rain drops falling onto the ceiling and the occasional thunder filled the empty shop as you sat there. You stared at your crossed hands that were in front of you, your brain completely blank as the wetness of your clothes slowly seeped through. You shuddered at how cold the layers felt, trying to curl up on your seat as a last resort for some warmth. The man, who you assumed to be the owner of this shop, was at the back and you wondered if it was because he took pity at how disheveled you were and decided to give you some space.

You could hear the occasional clank of ceramics and pots from the kitchen. Warm lights, steam that was slipping past the door curtain, the clicks of gas stoves being turned on. It all felt so terribly like home. Not the small apartment that you had to be careful doing anything to in fear of losing your deposit, the one where you could hear the sound of the tv even at the door right as you step in, the one with someone waiting for you to be home, the one where you could smell the sweet scent of rice from the kitchen.

The one where you were not along.

You felt the tear prickling at the corner of your eye and you quickly brought your hand up to press against your forehead, forcing the soreness in your nose to go away. You had been on your own for so long and probably would be for even longer, you could not let your mind wander to places that would crush you down like that. Not now, not when you knew how hard it would hit you.

The click on the table in front of you broke you out of your spiraling thoughts, and your eyes widened as you looked up to see what was placed in front of you.

White streams rose from the black lacquerware, the shine and the patterns on top a sharp contrast to the onigiri placed on the plate by its side. They were rounded, put on a long rectangular plate side by side with a small stripe of nori wrapped around them. You could see each grain of rice clearly, the light made it looked like they were clear enough for you to see through it. You looked into the bowl to see pieces of vegetables and tofu floating in the cloudy liquid, the soft scent of miso filling your senses as you leaned forward.

Tonjiru and onigiri, how long had it been since you had this?

“You need something to warm you up.” the man said with a small smile, brushing the fallen strands of his silver bangs away from his eyes as he turned away from you.

You nodded as you took the bowl from the counter, your lips pursed together into a thin line at the million flavours that were in your heart. You let out a soft sigh at the heat on your finger tips. It had been awfully long since you had anything as homely as this, and your own breath melted in with the steam that was blurring over your vision.

You tasted the warm soup at the tip of your tongue with your first sip, slowly gliding down your throat into your stomach and then the warmth slowly spread across your entire body from your core. The onions were cooked through, melting into the soup and soft against like jelly. slices of potato were nearly mashed up, the sandy texture still permanent in your mouth even after you gulped it down. The pork was cut up into thin pieces, tender and with the flavour of the stock all blended in. You could still taste the vague hints of the stock between your teeth, your breath shaky as you hold the bowl in your hand.

They said life was made up of different flavours, and right now the flavour on the strings of your heart was salty, from the jar of sealed emotions that shattered on the ground at something as simple as a bowl of warm soup made handed to you by a total stranger.

You did not know you were crying until you tasted the saltiness at the corner of your lips, and you lifted the bowl to your mouth before the sobs could even leak out.

You gulped down the soup, despite how you felt like you were having trouble trying to breathe with the ache at the back of your throat. The man had his back towards you, continuing with cleaning up the many dishes piled up as you cried at the far corner away from him. He had never met you and in his head, you were probably just another annoying customer who took up the time he could have had to himself by being a sobbing mess in his shop, but there was a silent gentleness in the way he didn’t flinch or budge even once as your sobs slowly erupted in a bawl, like you were not there at all, like the fact you were there was just another part of his routine.

You had calmed down a little when you saw the bottom of the bowl, your cries now turned into broken whimpers. You took a small bite into the onigiri and smiled amidst your tears at the sweetness from the grain and the hints of vinegar that expanded in your mouth. There was no filling within, but just the taste of rice was enough to make you feel the purest form of joy. The sound it made when you bit down on the seaweed was nothing less than satisfying and as you felt the crunch between your teeth, the tears rolling down you face and making your chest ache stopped.

The man’s hands slowed down as you stopped crying but he waited for a moment before turning around like he wanted to make sure that he would not interrupt you at a moment of vulnerability.

“How much is it?” you asked. Your voice coming out much weaker than you wanted it to be, like you were out of breath and with a strong nasal from your earlier sobs.

“It’s on the house.” the man said and he couldn’t hide the slight amusement behind his eyes as you visibly panicked.

“I really shouldn’t-”

“I can’t charge you for something that isn’t on par with our usual quality,” he said, pushing your hand that was holding your wallet away softly. You wanted to argue that it was the nicest meal that you’ve had in a while but he stopped you before you could even speak, “so please.”

You stared at him. His eyes were fixed on you, not once wavering during this exchange. You sighed, knowing that there was no way he would back down, and a sly grin found its way to his lips.

You thanked the owner again and again before you walked out the door. With a soft swish, you were alone on the street again but somehow you didn’t feel all too bothered by that.

The rain had stopped.

Taking a deep breath, you could smell the distinct smell of rain lingering in the air. Walking away, you took one look at the shop before you left. The door curtain hanging on the upper half of the door was flowing with the wind, the symbol of the shop printed on in white.

“Onigiri Miya”.

Onigiri Miya.

You looked up from your phone to the front of the shop and then back at your phone.

You had deliberately put off coming again after last time for a couple of days, even though there wasn’t a moment when it wasn’t in your mind. Somehow, you were paranoid about if you actually had the face to show up again after the owner had practically seen you at your lowest point. It was embarrassing to be remembered as the person who barged in late at night and cried on someone’s bar table.

And it most definitely didn’t help that even with tears in your eyes and you practically struggling to breathe properly, you still clearly remembered that the owner was likely your age and very attractive.

Maybe you should just leave. Your legs planted firmly on the ground as you thought of everything that could happen if you go in there. But really, you should go in as a proper customer at least for once after the owner practically treated you to a free meal. You gulped at the reminiscence of the warm soup that washed down your system and the crunchiness of the nori, you could feel your stomach rumbling just at the thought of it. How was it that such simple food had such an impact on you that you couldn’t stop thinking about it?

You would just go in there, eat your food, actually pay this time around and leave. What was the worst that could happen?

But on a second thought, did you really want to go back in there? Did you really-

“Sorry to interrupt whatever deep thought you might be having,” you jumped at the voice from behind you and was shocked to see that it was the owner standing behind you.

Wait, no, this wasn’t him.

“But are you going inside?” the man pointed at the sliding door of the entrance.

“Yeah,” you blurted out and went to grab the door like it was exactly what you were about to do anyways, groaning inside at how your earlier conflict was all for nothing, “yeah, of course.”

“Irassha-” the man behind the counter, the actual owner, looked up as the door was slide open, “ara?”

“Samu...” the man brushed past you as he sat right at the center of the bar table but the owner didn’t look away from you and nodded in greeting which you immediately reciprocated, your eyes glancing between the two subtly. Seeing them side-by-side, you could now see that while their facial features were near identical, the two men had deliberately styled their hair differently and dyed them a different colour. The blond laid on the wooden table the moment he sat down, rambling on about how “people nowadays didn’t know what a good joke was anymore”.

You gingerly picked the seat that was the furthest away from him, carefully pulling the stool and had your back straight as you looked around the store. You were too deep in thought that you didn’t even pay much attention to your surroundings the last time you were here. There was nothing fancy about the humble interior, the earthy tones of the wooden structure of the building and the warm lights that were used a very good compliment to the food it served. Down to earth and simple, but sometimes it was the simplicity that draws out the best flavour.

“What can I get you?”

Your back tensed up at the sudden attention that was put on you. The owner of the shop stood in front of you with his arms crossed and you tried your hardest to save yourself the embarrassment that your eyes immediately picked up on the way his biceps flexed under the black t-shirt that fit his form perfectly. You had already broken down in front of this man, the last thing you would want is for him to notice that you were subtly not-so-subtly checking him out.

“Oh,” you snapped out of your trance, your nerves returning as you felt him waiting for you to say something. “um...”

Leaning back, you looked around at the many items that were written on thin wooden boards hung right above the counter. Salmon roe, tuna with scallion, marinated plum, stewed pork... the list went on and on, and that was only for the onigiri. How were you supposed to make a decision when there were so many to choose from?

Miya Osamu felt a foreign swell in his chest as your eyes racked over the menu. Your tongue slightly poking out as you were lost in your thoughts and it was like he could see you debating with yourself as your glance jumped back and forth. He did not get to talk to you when you first walked in but he immediately remembered you as the one who came in that night with the particularly heavy rain. Even as his twin’s blabbering held a tight grip on his attention, he could not help himself but stealing glances at your direction. He could see the way you sat with your back straight and your shoulders stiffed at the corner of his eye but right now, the previous density was all gone.

He would have to admit that he had been wondering if you would come back after your initial encounter. He was not keen on acknowledging that he had been waiting for you to show up again even though judging by the look on your face as you took that first bite, he was almost certain you would.

You were still not able to decide on what you want which normally would be quite an annoyance (especially if it was Atsumu being indecisive because seriously dude, why are you being conflicted? You would get the exact same thing in the end anyways) but he just found how serious you were to be oddly endearing. He was tempted to tease you a little, to see you flustered and panic a little but bite his tongue at the potential of you tensing up again.

“Do you want to try a new product?” and there it was, the subtle glint of excitement in your eyes that you immediately tried to hide, “It’s not out on the menu yet and I’ve been hoping to find someone to try it out.”

The blonde at the other side perked up, his cheeks puffed out as he chewed on the onigiri he had in hand. His voice was muffled as he spoke, “Wait, samu-”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” the owner snapped around before turning back to you with a smile, ignoring the look of discontent on his brother’s face. “So?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you were quick to nod, smelling the lingering smell of gunpowder in the air, “sure.”

The owner hummed and went to the back of the kitchen. You shuddered when you suddenly met the gaze of the man sitting opposite to you. Were you roped into some sort weird sibling rivalry? You wanted to look away but didn’t have the guts as he stared at you. His eyes pursed into thin lines as he chewed slowly before glancing at the kitchen and then back to you. His eyebrows quirked up as his eyes widened, his lips curling up like he had gotten something figured out. You let out a heavy breath as he finally turned his eyes back to his meal.

Ok, what was that supposed to mean?

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

You gleamed at the plate that was placed in front of you. Unlike the small rice balls from last time, this one was nearly the size of your fist and you could feel your mouth watering just at the smell of freshly cooked rice.

Clasping your hands together and giving a quick nod, you picked it up and took a bite. You could not stop yourself from humming in delight when you bite straight into the filling, the flavour immediately filling your cavity. The distinct taste of toro hit you in full force, but the fishiness was not too overwhelming as the saltiness from the soy sauce balanced it out. The tuna was well marinated with the sauce soaking through each piece, small dots of roasted sesame seeds making it look extra enticing. You could taste the hint of sesame oil that followed as the fish melted on your tongue, the mix of flavours still left between your teeth after you swallowed. The sauce seeped into the rice surrounding the filling and you could taste the careful balance of saltiness and the aftertaste of the vinegar with each bite.

Everything was just right, not one flavour outshining the other.

“How is it?” Osamu asked and chuckled as you frantically nodded.

He liked eating, but watching other people eat was a whole other kind of enjoyment.

He watched as you licked away the drop of sauce at the corner of your lips before taking a large gulp of the warm cup of tea in front of you, letting out a satisfied sigh as you held the rim of the cup by your lips.

“It’s so good,” you said, your voice muffled as you pressed the tissue against your mouth, “it’s marinated tuna right?”

You could see the blonde’s behind the owner shook when you mentioned the word “tuna”.

Osamu nodded, his chest puffing out in pride. “Tuna toro marinated in special soy sauce overnight.”

“You had something with a toro filling but you-”

Osamu turned around to give his twin a sharp glare, and Atsumu muttered about how this was the utter betrayal.

“It’s gonna be a hit if you put it on the menu,” you dipped your hand in your bag to search for your wallet, “how much is it?”

“Well, I can’t charge you for something that isn’t actually on sell.”

Your eyes widened. No, you were not going to let him give you free food again. “But-”

“Just get more food when you come back next time,” he said nonchalantly like it made total sense, taking the empty plate in hand and didn’t allow you the time the object, “ok, and that’s settled.”

You wanted to argue that it was not settled, but he didn’t look back as he disappeared into the kitchen again.

Atsumu looked between his brother and you as you thanked him once again for the meal before leaving. He tilted his head as he watched Osamu smiled at the door even after you were gone. He looked at his twin, and then back at the door, tilting his head as he recalled your exchange earlier.

Next time? Next time???

Atsumu smirked, “You sly, sly bastard.”

“Shut up, tsumu.”

“Irasshaimase-” Osamu said, a small smirk gracing his features as he spotted that it was you pushing the door open, “arara?”

“I came to get my daily fix of Onigiri Miya onigiri.” you said in a sing song voice, plopping on your regular seat at the corner of the bar table. The store was bustling with people but somehow, the seat at the corner was always empty when you arrive no matter how many people there was. You greeted several of the other regulars that you recognised, leaning your chin on your palm as Osamu put down the cup of tea in front of you.

“What do you want today?”

“Hm... I don’t know...” your brows furrowed together. No matter how many times you had come here, there was still no way that you could decide on what to get at the spot. It felt like you were missing out on something no matter what you settled on. “What is the owner recommending today?”

Osamu laughed and you couldn’t help but grin. You weren’t sure if it was that he got you so hooked on his cooking that you were mistaking it as attachment or was it genuine attraction, but there was no denying that part of the reason you came back was for the young owner who managed to make the simplest of food tasted like something fit for a king.

“I think I have just the thing for you.” he said, filled with confidence as he turned around.

“Are you not going to tell me what it is?” you leaned forward as you yelled, snorting in amusement as a distant “nope” passed through your ears from behind the curtain.

You closed your heads, tilting your head as you listened to the soft sound of ceramics clinking, the ticking of the stove and the sound of water boiling. This was nice, you thought to yourself, like home.

“There you go.”

You couldn’t help but laugh when you saw what he put in front of you, attracting the stare of several other customers but you didn’t care. Your cheeks were hurting from how wide your smile was as you took the black lacquerware in hand, humming as you smelt the delicious scent of miso with the stream.

“You are not reminding me of very happy times here,” you pretended to glare at him, your eyebrows quirking up as you sent him a look of judgment but your features softened when you took a sip of the soup. Same old taste, still brought the exact amount of warmth to your heart. Looking back, you were glad that things happened the way it was. There was no more pain left inside your heart when you were reminded of that night, only the simple gratitude that everything turned out alright.

You were doing better now than you were before, and with something to look forward to whenever you walked past the wooden doors that you now know so well.

You finished the soup in gulps, letting out a satisfied sigh as you closed your eyes to take in the flavour.

It was a good thing that you had your eyes closed, or else Osamu couldn’t stare at you as shamelessly as he was. The way you hold each dish in hand and took each bite with so much joy never failed to give him a rush.

Osamu liked eating, and he liked watching people eat too but nothing could compare to the thrill he felt when it was you munching down on his cooking like you had been starving until you came to him.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love everything you make,” you said, wiping the corner of your lips with your thumb as you took a bite at the plain onigiri, “but I can never get tired of this.”

“I can keep making it for you," he blurted out. You looked up, watching as his eyes widened when he realised what exactly he just said, “if you want...”

And there it was, the same feeling that he felt when you first came into this place drenched from head to toe and your eyes swollen. The same ache at the back of his throat and the weight in his chest that gave him the impulse that he had to cook you something, that he had to make sure you left this place with no more tears in your eyes.

You smiled, and at that moment he was certain that if it meant he could see that every day, then he wouldn’t mind cooking for you for the rest of his life.

“Of course.”

The sharp buzz of your alarm rudely interrupted you from your sleep and you groaned as you rolled to your side.

The other end of the mattress was empty, as always. You laid on the bed, facing the ceiling as you struggle to keep your eyes open. God, you pressed your palm to your forehead, why couldn’t you just spare me five more minutes?

It was the sweet smell floating down the corridor into your nostrils that gave you the motivation to stay awake. You sighed as your stomach rumbled, pushing the blanket off of you as you sat up straight against the back board.

Pulling the first shirt you could find on the floor, you yawned as the black t-shirt that was far too big for you draped over your body. You rubbed your eyes as you made your way down to the kitchen, the sizzling getting louder and louder as you got close.

You leaned on the frame of the door, smiling as you watched your boyfriend stirring at the frying pan with a pair of long chopsticks and the other hand at his waist. You had a deep appreciation for him at all times, but you always swoon for Miya Osamu the hardest when he was in the small kitchen of your apartment.

How could you not fall in love again and again with a man who wakes up early every morning to make breakfast for you?

His back tensed up when he felt you wrapping your arms around his waist from behind and you leaned your face against him pressing a small kiss at the blade of his shoulder. You chuckled as he relaxed again, feeling each flex of his body as you silently admired his built.

“Morning, samu.”

“Morning,” his hand didn’t stop, curling the egg in the long rectangular pan up until it was a nicely formed roll, “breakfast will be ready soon, can you get the bowls out?”

You hummed, your hands lingering just a little as you let go of him. You took a whiff of the steam as the lid of the rice cooker sprung up, taking the rice spoon in hand and give it a quick fold before filling the bowls up.

Sitting down in front of the table, you leaned back to stare at Osamu who was still busying himself in the kitchen. He was always so concentrated when he cooks, his brows pressed together and lips pursed. The scent of food filled the air as you waited for him at the table, the sound of morning news playing in the background.

Home was knowing that each dish on the table was cooked by someone that has you in their mind and to the person who did the cooking, that no matter what you bring out, there was someone waiting for you by the table.

You looked at the plates lined up on the table with a smile on your face. Today’s breakfast was rice with miso soup, tamagoyaki, pan-fried salmon and salad made with last night’s leftovers.

“So,” Osamu took his chopsticks in hand after sitting down in front of you and you did the same.

It was not about what you were eating, it was about who you were eating with.

You grinned as your voices overlapped.

“Itadakimasu.”

#miya osamu x reader #miya osamu imagine #miya osamu imagines #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #miya x reader #miya imagine

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whitherliliesbloom · 3 years

Text

towards a tomorrow

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #28 - bow ]

[ illya & kirishimi ] ★ [ 2,062 words ] ★ [ period drama au ]

for matchi’s period drama au. briefly mentions illyanaud, laurelis and kaye.

bow- to bend your head or body forward, especially as a way of showing someone respect or expressing thanks

kirishimi didn’t care for frilly dresses or etiquette unless it was to make a statement - so she gets lessons from the most ladylike friend she knows

“Gods, shite! How do people breath in this stupid thing?!”

Amongst the light breeze of the midafternoon wind, the melodic chirping of the songbirds and the sound of water splashing freely from the white marble fountain, Kirishimi’s less than ladylike words pierce through the air as she puffs her chest in with a low grumble and is followed by the soft and gentle bell-like chimes of a younger girl’s giggles a few feet next to her.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think the corset can be loosened any further, I made it as loose as I could for you already.”

“Can I just take it off then?” Kirishimi asks, hopeful even as the shorter lalafellin girl shakes her head calmly with am apologetic frown, her vibrant violent eyes swirling with sympathy.

“I wish you could but... Laurelis designed the dress with your corset in mind.. It just wouldn’t fit if you didn’t-”

“Shite.”

Yet another swear tumbles carelessly out of Kirishimi’s lips, and Illya lets out a soft, barely audible sigh before flashing her taller friend yet another gentle smile.

“How about a short break then? I think you’ll feel a little better if you take a breather.”

“Yes please!”

Without even a seconds’ hesitation, Kirishimi grabs the frame of the hoop skirt beneath her bright orange dress with her hands and marches to the gazebo before slumping down onto the white garden chair and kicking her matching pair of high heels off. She leans down to massage the soles of her feet with a grimace, feeling light indents where the rim of the heels had dug into her feet and wondering if there was going to be blisters forming under her hosiery by the end of the day.

In contrast to the almost unruly way she’d retreated under the shade of the white and purple gazebo, Illya in comparison was the very picture of elegance. With only the tips of her thumb and index finger, the young lady lifts the hem of her frilly lavender dress before climbing the steps up to the gazebo. Despite wearing lacey embroidered heels that seemed like they were even more of a pain to wear than her own, Illya’s balance was perfect, each footstep graceful and deliberate so much that Kirishimi could barely even hear the little tap of her heels against the floor.

Even the way she sat upon the chair, taking her time to tuck her dress beneath her thighs before sitting herself down and folding her hands neatly upon her lap - it wouldn’t have made Kirishimi felt self-conscious any other time before today. But it was exactly because she was here now, for the exact same reason she’d even agreed to commission an over the top ball gown from Laurelis that she swear to never wear outside of it’s intended use, that she quickly decided to correct her posture.

The taller woman feels out of place - as she typically does, but especially next to her considerably more demure, ladylike friend. Surrounded by the jewel toned walls of the Skawi mansion, the flawless marble tile paths that circled the garden and practically shined in the sunlight and the bed of delicate spring flowers that filled the air with a light floral fragrance, it would be hard for her not to feel even a tiny bit like a fish out of water.

“Thanks again, Illya. For agreeing to teach me.” Kirishimi opts to speak, breaking the long hanging silence as if in sheepish apology. She knows she isn’t the best student, and so the least she could do was be cooperative and nice to the girl who is graciously lending her her time and efforts.

“You’re very welcome, Kiri.” With a radiant smile, Illya nods her head, her innocent expression bright and at home with her subtle movements of grace. The birds that sat upon the mansard roofs sing in tandem with the sweetness of Illya’s voice. “I’m honored that you would come to me for lessons about etiquette. Even if it is to...um... break the social construct.”

Mismatched eyes widen in a panic, and the older woman leans forward over the table and raises her voice a tad.

“Hey, I hope you don’t misunderstand me! There’s nothin’ wrong with being prim and proper! I’m not tryin’ to do anythin’ to disrespect you! I just-”

“I know.” Illya speaks, her brilliantly pure white hair fluttering gently in the breeze like a wavy silken veil over her head. “You’re just trying to be you. You have the courage and strength to stand up to people who would try to tell you do otherwise. I like that about you.” With yet another euphonious, soft giggle, Illya raises a hand up to press against her chest. “Besides, you wouldn’t have come to me for a favor if you truly did have malicious intent, would you? The fact that you called Laurelis and I for help means that you trust us.”

A soft blush rises up to Kiri’s face where speckles of white snow glowed lightly from the heat from her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her gloved hand moves up to rub the side of her neck sheepishly, and she cannot help the toothy grin that adorns her face.

“I guess you’re right.” the woman murmurs. “I also... admire you a lot, you know? You’re so sweet, and nice... a bit too nice, honestly. You don’t even get angry when idiots spout lies about you...”

Kirishimi would be lying if she said she didn’t feel an immense amount of admiration for Illya’s ability to stay as calm and collected as she does - even above the seemingly effortless way she’d conduct herself like the society’s perfect definition of a ‘lady’.

But there wasn’t envy... it wouldn’t be warranted, especially since Kirishimi knew that behind the perfectly immaculate way Illya would hold herself as the young mistress and future heiress of her family name, came a set of troubles and insecurities that she too was struggling with.

It’s evident by the flicker of melancholy in Illya’s eyes, like a field of delphiniums and hydrangeas that were drooping in the midst of a drizzle of rain and grey storm clouds, even with a forced, stepford smile gracing her delicate and fair features. They were lovely, beautiful even in their imperfect sadness.. but Kiri could not bring herself to feel anything but sorry at the sight of them.

“And I wish I were even half as strong as you. You’re able to stand up for what you want, for who you are... If I had a fraction of the courage that you possessed then perhaps... I could have...” The girl looks down, the silver band that she’d refused to wear hidden deep in the depths of her dress pocket weighing far more heavily than it ever did before. “I could have stopped my uncle from calling for the engagement...”

The Skawi family had well deserved respect from the capital, and with it came a reputation and image they had to uphold. And with their fame, came the inevitable greed from the current head of the family - the man Illya could barely even bring herself to think of as family, the younger brother of the long deceased patriarch, Lachlan Skawi.

Selling himself and the name of the Skawis wouldn’t be enough for the man - and so he’d sold the dignity of his niece as well by calling for an arranged marriage.. something that Kirishimi knew would not be solved with a few simple social statements and protests. It involved the name of the Skawi family, and worse still, it involved the capital.

Internally, Kirishimi wonders what Young Master Alphinaud intends to do. Word about mistress Skawi’s engagement to one of the members of the royal bloodlines has spread far and wide by now, and he would undoubtedly be working tirelessly for a way to stop the marriage.

But if the combined efforts of Laurelis’ family, the Leveilleur household, Hien’s influence as a well respected foreign emissary wasn’t enough to convince Illya’s uncle to call off the engagement, what else could they hope to do?

“You’re stronger than you think you are, Illya.” Kiri reassures, her tone gentler than is usual for her, as is the light, reassuring smile upon her face. “You took the first steps to realize your own dreams, didn’t ya?”

Kiri gestures to the carnation earring she wore that dangled lightly with gleaming white pearls, and Illya raises a hand up to brush against her ear lightly. The earring was a gift from Master Alphinaud, the man she owes much to... Her mentor, her dearest friend and...

A dust of red rises up to Illya’s cheeks and spreads to the tips of her pointed ears as she nods.

“It’s... It’s thanks to everyone... and especially Master Alphinaud that.. that I finally started to learn medicine. If it weren’t for everyone’s support, I wouldn’t have-...”

Illya holds her tongue, pressing her lips into her fine line as Kiri allows the silence to fester, until she grins at the look of renewed determination upon the young maiden’s face.

No, Kirishimi is right. She certainly may owe much to her friends and loved ones, and she wouldn’t have taken that first steps towards realizing her dream to become a doctor had she not met Alphinaud... but it took great strides of her own too, a strength and new found courage to stand up to the ones who doubted her - one that she felt determined in full to carry on for as long as she needed until her dreams are fulfilled and she can be free from her own social constructs that are weighing her down.

“Once all this is over.. could you teach me how to fence, Kiri?” Illya asks, eliciting a surprised hum from her taller friend.

“You wanna learn how to fence?” The woman asks... not in dissuation, of course... but in mild disbelief that a girl as sweet and gentle as Illya would be interested in the sport. She’d say yes, of course, regardless of Illya’s reasons. She’d teach Illya whatever she wanted to learn especially since the girl had been kind enough to be teaching her etiquette. But she still cannot help but to be a bit curious.

“I admit I’m not the strongest or physically well built... I’ll probably be a really bad student but-”

With a wave of her hand, Kiri dismisses Illya’s words with a hearty, loud laugh that echoes throughout the garden, warm and bright in the midafternoon sun.

“You’ll be great, I guarantee it. You’re quick on your feet and I think you’re a lot more fit than you give yourself credit for.” If Illya’s ability to function without fault all way in tight corsets and high heels are anything to go by, at least.

With a bright smile of gratitude, Illya thanks her friend warmly with a bow of her head before standing herself up from the chair, circling around the table and gesturing to the haphazardly abandoned orange heels that laid on their sides next to Kirishimi.

“Let’s continue, Kiri. We still have much to practice for the day!” Illya shrugs her shoulders when Kiri groans, slipping her feet back into her heels before reluctantly standing herself back up. “You remember what I said about the proper way to curtsy is, right?”

To demonstrate, Illya holds the sides of her dress, barely pulling the hem up from the ground and crossing her legs before dipping herself down gracefully like a ballerina... and Kiri could only let out a lazy grumble in protest.

“Can’t we rest for a little while longer? I hate this curtsying shite.”

“The faster we get this part of the lesson done, the faster we can move on to table manners.” Illya’s innocent smile is bright and radiant, belying the little hint of mischief laced under the tone of her knowing voice. “I’ve already asked for the pastries and sweet tea to be prepared, you know? Kaye should be arriving with them any second now.”

“Curtsy? Got it. Left foot behind right???” Mismatched blue and red eyes fly open, and the woman does a full curtsy that elicits yet another light and airy giggle from Illya.

“It’s the right foot behind your left. Not too quickly, now. Let’s try that again.”

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2021 #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #illya skawi #kirishimi #period drama au #fanfic #mine #YET ANOTHER AU I'VE NEVER WRITTEN FOR GOD #I quite like this even if I feel like it's missing a lot of context that i had to explain with just a few #expository sentences #but that's just the nature of writing for aus you've never established before hah

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michaelmyersmalewife · 3 years

Text

the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat 3/?

- sephiroth/reader

- sfw

You were really starting to regret not getting at least a coffee as you made your way to the briefing room. Maybe it was just your nerves, or the fact you might’ve run a mile in under an hour, but you were feeling some horrible combination of tired and energized. You closed your hands into tight fists to calm your jitters.

You could already see their frosty apparitions just beyond the semi-transparent sliding door, the figure that could’ve only been Sephiroth turning in your direction as you approached. He was leaning against the ring of desks in the center of the room, arms crossed, with Director Lazard seated at a monitor right next to him. The screen gleamed against the glasses perched on his angular face, obscuring his eyes until he looked up at you. They were the same stony grey as his suit, which he smoothed down as he sat up, extending a gloved hand toward you. You shook it, slightly bewildered.

He was kind of a lanky man, his hair the dingy color of wheat. But he had kind eyes, the type that crinkled at the corners when he smiled even a little bit. He gave you a single, firm handshake before taking it back, folding his hands neatly in front of him.

“Good morning! I’m glad you could make it on such short notice.” he said, promptly sitting back down. “This won’t take too long, I assure you.”

Sephiroth gave you a nod in greeting, ambling over to stand beside you. You straightened your posture.

“Just wanted to make sure you’re both on the same page.” he said as he typed something in rapid succession.

“It’s no problem, director.”

Taking his hands off the keyboard, he set his elbows on the desk. “It’s come to my attention that you’ve made great strides in your training.”

Doesn’t feel like it, you wanted to add. You shifted on your feet, trying to keep your attention focused on the director and not on the eyes you felt boring into you from two feet away.

“So, starting today, you’ll be joining Sephiroth on his missions. At his request, of course.”

You didn’t know what to say, you weren’t sure if you could say anything even if you had the words. You turned toward Sephiroth, who - while facing the director - was looking at you through his peripherals, the corner of his mouth twitching just slightly before he erased all evidence of it. It happened so fast that it took you a few too many seconds to register it as a grin. You always wondered how he could do that. Suddenly realizing you had been quiet for an embarrassingly long time, gawking like a fool, you cleared your throat.

“I won’t let you down, sir.”

Sephiroth glanced down, the full extent of his attention on you now. Then, he did something strange. He smiled - like, genuinely. Not so much with his mouth, but with his eyes, squinting with something that wasn’t born from tired disapproval or aloof pride. Noticing your jaw had gone slack, you snapped it shut, facing ahead.

“Now that that’s in order,” Lazard started, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the wall-sized screen behind him. “You’ll be sent to Kalm to investigate recent reports of strange activity around its mines.”

The screen blinked to life, showing a map with dozens of little dots with one in particular highlighted among the rest. The tension in your muscles loosened. By all accounts, it was a routine job for soldiers in your class. You’d since lost count of all the times you’ve disposed of monsters and the like in the villages surrounding Midgar. If you were being honest, you weren’t sure why a 1st would be needed for something so mundane, unless they were really bent on getting this over with.

“We sent a group of 3rds to scope it out,” he adjusted his glasses. “All three are currently recovering in the hospital wing.”

Well, shit.

“You’ll be dispatched when we have everything ready. Should take a little over an hour but we’ll send someone for you.” he finished, looking much too optimistic for you. “I’m sure you two can handle this.”

“Sounds good to me, sir.” you said, feebly masking the tremble in your voice.

Lazard nodded. “Dismissed.”

Seeing Sephiroth bow his head, you stiffly followed suit, shuffling to the side as you followed him out of the room.

As you entered the hall, Sephiroth looked over his shoulder, slowing his pace as you eventually caught up to him. He looked at you with that same expression back in the briefing room, flicking his bangs out of his face with a single shake.

“Nervous?”

“Pff, me? Nah.”

There was a pause, and the gap in conversation made you not want to look at him.

“Good.” he said calmly, the sound putting your nerves at ease.

---

Flexing your hand, your knuckles popped, going back to gripping the edge of the seat. You were still being jostled by the uneven road, and it was taking all your concentration not to knock into Sephiroth (who was somehow so stationary you’d think he was glued in place). You were already trying to balance feeling nervous and excited, but when he so easily could’ve sat across from you in the otherwise empty truck, you were sure he was actively trying to make you puke. You stared out the window. You had already been on the road for some time, but it wouldn’t take you more than twenty or so minutes to get to Kalm. But every passing second felt like an hour.

You felt something nudge your arm.

It startled you, but you ignored it, thinking it was just a particularly rough bump in the road that finally shifted Sephiroth out of place.

Another nudge. You cast him a glance.

“You’re tense,” he commented in that flat tone he usually reserved for your training sessions. “Ease up a little.”

Without really thinking, you let your shoulders droop.

“You’ll be fine. Think of it as any other mission you’ve cleared.”

“Right.” you mumbled.

There was a long stretch of silence. For a while - you couldn’t tell, really - all you heard was the sound of rocks and dirt crunching under the truck’s tires. Outside, grassy cliffs filled every corner. The sun wasn’t out today, and you could feel the latent chill from outside seeping in from the pane of glass behind you. Sephiroth leaned his head against the wall of the truck.

“My first mission, my first big one, went horribly.”

You looked over at him. Leaning forward, you perched your elbows on your knees. His chest rose in a silent sigh. You weren’t about to prod him to continue. He was far away in a memory, looking both unreasonably young and old. You shifted in your seat.

“Whatever the outcome, it’ll make for some good experience.” he finally spoke, slowly, like he was rolling the words around in his mind.

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

He chuckled softly, his eyes fluttering shut. “Yes. Did it work?”

“You kind of suck at it,” you said, sitting upright with your arms folded across your chest. “But yeah..sort of.”

He blinked at you before letting out a bemused laugh, his shoulders shaking with the lilting rumble. You couldn’t help but crack a smile.

Just like that, the truck jolted to a stop, rocking you right into Sephiroth. You muttered an ‘ouch’ as you rubbed the part of your head that collided with his pauldron. You thought you heard a ‘sorry’ in response, but before you could acknowledge it there was a quick succession of bangs from the plate separating you and the driver.

“That was fast.” Sephiroth hummed, pushing himself up and reaching for the door.

Though it was incredibly overcast, you squinted against the brightness from the silver blanket of clouds that shielded the sky. There was a humid chill in the air, uncomfortably clinging to your skin like an ill-fitting sweater. It looked like it wanted to rain.

They had dropped you off just outside of Kalm, the small town peeking out of its cozy nest among a grassy plain. It was a short walk away, but already your presence was attracting attention.

As you entered the town, dirt road abruptly shifting into swirling cobblestone, you felt dozens of eyes on you. The streets were by no means crowded, but the handful of people that were out made no attempt to hide their stares. You had since gotten used to that sort of thing - you had to be, as a member of SOLDIER. But now you shrivelled at the feeling, just a little.

It was easy to ignore the looks - the good and the bad - but with a walking posterboy at your side it wasn’t as easy. It was impossible, and the further you ventured into town the more it seemed to cluster. Your pace broke, and you fell into step just behind him. He didn’t seem to notice, and if he did, he made no mention of it.

“Is that him?” a hushed voice passed by you.

Throwing a quick glance over your shoulder, you spotted two teens huddled together, trying to hide excited giggles behind their hands.

“It’s gotta be, who else has hair like that?”

You let out a snort, prompting Sephiroth to turn his head. It swivels to the side, right where you had been up until a minute ago, and there’s almost a hint of something frantic as he spends a second looking around for you. Finally setting his gaze on you - meeting your eyes - he gives you another one of his flash smiles, before refocusing on the path before him. Behind you, the teens burst into giggles, their shoes scraping against the stone floor as they scrambled away.

As you entered the town square, the slowly amalgamating crowd became a singularity, and something in Sephiroth’s demeanor changed. Like the air before a storm, you saw no trace of the man that seemed intent on easing your nerves. This was Sephiroth the war hero.

People were already approaching you - or rather, Sephiroth, who had unwittingly pulled a crowd into his own gravity. It took a fair amount of concentration to single out each voice among the cacophony, as they were barely audible over one another’s frantic questioning.

“Are you here to get rid of the monster?”

“We’ve been out of work for almost a week now!”

“Thank goodness they finally sent a real soldier to take care of this.”

“Mister Sephiroth can you look down here for a second?”

You felt a pulse at your temple, like someone just stuck a needle into your brain matter and pulled it out in the same breath. The crowd was what you’d imagine a rip current to feel like, and without really meaning to, you exited his orbit. To your relief, none of them seemed to notice anyway. You felt a little bad leaving him back there, but as the sound of clashing voices and photos being snapped dulled, you felt the tightening in your chest loosen. Despite the chill in the air, you found that you had been sweating.

“This all started because of them.” a man muttered to someone beside him.

They were standing at the very edge of the crowd, looking on with a certain intensity. Though they were both staring in Sephiroth’s direction, you couldn’t help but feel like that venom was directed at you.

“Oh come on, they’re just a bunch of guard dogs. You know who’s really responsible.”

“Still don’t sit right with me.” the first man said, brimming with spite. “They can show off all they want, still ain’t solving shit.”

You kept walking.

---

You had left the town square entirely, the noise nothing but an echo. Quietly walking past shops and homes, you hadn’t realized that you completely left Sephiroth in the dust. You were tempted to double back and drag him out of there, but as soon as you turned around you twitched in surprise.

There was a kid (a tiny thing, her tawny hair messily tied into twin pigtails and looking like she had just finished wrestling with dirt) standing about a foot in front of you. There was a sparkling curiosity in her eyes despite the impassive expression, and you realized that she wasn’t even looking at you.

“Are those real?” she pointed at the blades strapped to your sides.

You gave them a passing glance. They were nothing special, though you took care of them like they were. They were simple, SOLDIER-issued swords - twins, with black blades that reflected a dull image of you whenever you polished them. You unsheathed the one on your right, leaning over slightly as you lowered it to the kid’s level.

She hesitates, like it’s an animal ready to snap at the hands she has clutched close to her heart. But she takes a closer look, her sparkling eyes reflecting in its dark metal, warped but intrigued.

“Cool.” she says with a simple sort of reverence.

Slipping it back in its sheath, you peer down the path you took from the center of town. You sighed. With no hint of Sephiroth, you continued toward the mines.

You were only able to take about a handful of steps before you heard a soft pattering of shoes against the road shortly behind you. You didn’t have to look to see the kid trotting after you like a small shadow.

“Do you fight monsters with those?” she asked between breaths, struggling slightly to keep up with your pace.

“Yup.”

“It’s a pretty big monster.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“There were some soldier guys here yesterday. They got hurt real bad.”

“Well that’s..that’s why we’re here.”

She looked up at you, over her shoulder, then back at you. “Is your friend coming?”

“He’s not my - where are your parents?”

“I saw him back there, my brother thinks he’s cool.”

You rubbed your eyes, suddenly feeling very tired.

“Your friend’s got a big sword. Bet that’s gonna scare the monster away.”

“I’m sure it would.”

“So you’re really gonna fight it alone?”

“Probably.” Stopping mid-step, you felt the kid collide with your arm. “And that means you gotta stay here where it’s safe before the monster eats you. Or something.”

The kid paused, brows furrowing as if deep in thought. After careful consideration, she finally spoke.

“Okay - good luck!”

Seeing the kid trot back where she came, you stretched - your arms reaching for the sky - before you folded them behind your head. You really should’ve gotten that coffee.

#sephiroth #sephiroth x reader #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #crisis core #ff7 crisis core #my fics

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ab1tofsp1ce · 3 years

Text

A Warmer Refuge

CHAPTER 2: For Both Our Sakes

Masterlist HERE

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Words: 2.9K

Warnings: N/A

Description: The voyage to Kistern really hasn’t seemed to go according to plan...

He remained silent for a long while. We both did. It wasn’t until we jumped into hyperspace that I made the first sound between us. It was an involuntary yelp, and I caught my mouth with my hand as the universe melted around us into nothing but streaks of light. I’d never seen anything like it, only learning about what it was like from Reten’s descriptions. But those could’ve never prepared me for… The pilot’s seat spun around, and for the first time since the cantina, the Mandalorian was facing me, presumably looking me dead in the eyes. He was leaning forward on his knees slightly, and I wondered at that moment what I looked like. I caught a blurry outline of my reflection in his helmet. “Kistern is three or four days travel, even in hyperspace. The fresher is in the hold across from the ladder. Don’t go anywhere else in the ship. You’ll sleep in that seat,” he gestured to the passenger’s chair I was sitting in. “I’m assuming you brought food with you?” He looked at me expectantly, and I nodded quickly. He then stood up and made his way past me to the door of the cockpit. It was then that I realized I hadn’t even said a word to him yet. “Hey! Um, I just – thank you…” I stumbled over my words. He paused, looked back at me, and gave a curt nod of acknowledgment before the doors opened and he made his way down to the hold. I melted back into my seat, shivering slightly. This was going to be the longest three days I’d ever lived through.

I quickly grew sick of hyperspace travel, both physically and mentally. The Mandalorian had seemingly disappeared, but there was a room off the hold, directly under the cockpit, that I assumed he had gone into. It was for the best, in fact, because it meant he didn’t see how long I spent in the fresher vomiting. In all honesty, I didn’t really think it was the hyperspace travel that was making me sick. My heart was tight in my chest and I had to use what remaining energy I had to stop myself from crying. I would never return home. In fact, I no longer had a home. I had no people, no family, nothing tethering me to the ground. Hyperspace was quieter than anything I had ever experienced before. On Yak’ish Temeen, there was always noise – animals, plants, water, wind, people… anything to fill the silence. But out here (wherever here was), it was empty. I noticed this when I finally collapsed back into the passenger’s seat, drained of any energy I still had. It made me feel hollow, and I could’ve sworn I could hear my own heart in my chest. I felt my eyes droop, my body sinking into the seat. It had been days since I had slept properly. A whole year, if I were to be truly honest. But after that day Kalbier approached me with the proposition of leaving Yak’ish Temeen, I spent the next three nights tossing and turning under my tent, weighing up my options. The silence made these memories sound louder, echoing in my head. The door sliding open startled me out of my trance. He made his way to his seat, checking the navcom and a variety of other instruments. As always, he didn’t turn to me when he spoke. “Are you feeling better?” My cheeks flushed violently. He heard me. That entire time I was spewing up the contents of my stomach he could hear me. I looked down at my fumbling hands. “Um… yes. Sorry… about that.” “Nothing to be sorry about.” He turned his chair slightly to look at me over his shoulder. “But here’s to hoping it’s not a frequent occurrence.” He turned back, facing out to space. “For both our sakes.” I tried not to let that statement faze me. I was exhausted of embarrassing myself in front of him, so instead I lay back in the seat as nonchalantly as possible. The Mandalorian let the silence settle for a while, both of us watching the smashing light particles smear past the windscreen like rain. “I’m going to get some rest. Let me know if there are any problems.” That last bit concerned me a bit. I tried not to overthink about what sort of problems we could encounter in dead space. Instead, I distracted myself by watching him lean back in the pilot’s seat, and from where I sat I watched his helmet lean slightly to the right, resting on the back of the seat. I knew that most likely from this position, if he had his eyes open he would be able to see me staring at him. But, in all honesty, it was the only real chance I had to look at him without feeling threatened by being stared down in return. I began to wonder why he hadn’t removed his helmet. Surely, now that we were safely in hyperspace he could take it off; it must be uncomfortable sleeping in that thing. But I said nothing on it, not wanting to disturb him (or, honestly, even talk to him). Maybe I would ask him later. So here I was, less than three years after I first heard the word Mandalorian, now sitting in one’s ship. I smiled quietly to myself, because if you had told me that then I would’ve immediately questioned what kind of crime I could have possibly committed to end up being captured by a bounty hunter. Genuinely, I would’ve sooner believed I would end up a criminal than move to another planet. And there it was again. That pulling feeling around my heart. I had planned my whole life around the idea that I would live that one life forever. Leaving Yak’ish Temeen would’ve meant leaving behind my family, my people, my way of life… Wrapping my arms around myself, I looked down at the tattoo on my arm. I would never get to complete it. Never get my crest. Never get married… well, at least not traditionally. I sunk into myself, curling up in the chair. Sleep had never felt easier.

I wasn’t sure how long I was asleep, but I presumed that what woke me up was what woke us both up; being suddenly thrown out of hyperspace. Unfortunately, I had not been wearing a seatbelt, but it seemed neither did the Mandalorian, as we were both abruptly thrown out of our seats. Whilst he caught himself on the console in front of him, I barely managed to stop myself falling to the floor. “Are you okay?” He turned back to me, still clutching onto the dash. “Yes. Yes, I’m – I’m fine.” My breath was shaky, and I could feel my heart thumping through my chest. “What was that?” He turned back towards the windshield. “I have no idea.” We both sat in our seats and, to avoid another disaster, I buckled my seatbelt. In front of us I could see a planet to our right, surprisingly closer than I would’ve thought. Apparently, he had seemed to make that same summation. “What are we doing here…” he murmured to himself, studying the dials and navcom in front of him. Then, I heard him curse something under his breath. “Something’s not right with… with the hyperdrive. Stay here.” He spun out of his seat and closed the distance to the ladder faster than I could blink, his cape whipping behind him. I was alone now, adrenaline still flushing in my ears. I didn’t like the sound of this… especially if he seemed concerned. For a few moments, there was only the distant sound of him rummaging around somewhere in the hold. But then he called out my name, which I didn’t even know he remembered. “Come down here! I need your help.” My help? I suppose I am a mechanic, but he didn’t know that, did he? Maybe Kalbier had told him… I undid my seatbelt and shuffled down the ladder to see he had disappeared down a vent in the center of the hold’s floor. “Over in the compartment on the left side of the ladder,” he said, not emerging, “there is a box of tools.” I quickly stumbled over to it and opened it, taking out the heavy metal toolbox and placing it on the floor. “Now, I want you to grab the hull cutter from in there,” he said, sticking his head from the vent and reaching his open gloved palm in my direction. “It’s the one with the –” I placed the tool in his hand. He froze for a second, clearly not expecting me to know which one it was. “Yeah, that one. Uh, one moment.” He ducked back under the vent. I frowned to myself, slowly shuffling over to the edge as he got to work. What could be doing down there that would require a hull cutter? I would’ve never used them in the centrifugal power boxes. That is, I couldn’t imagine what down there could have a hull cutter used on it. I peeked down into the vent, watching him work away at a power box. For a moment, I bit my tongue, but then came to the conclusion that it would be doing neither of us any good if I didn’t help where possible. “Um… I wouldn’t use the hull cutter for that… especially in such close proximity to –” I was thrown off by how he suddenly turned back to look at me from his crouched position in the vent. “… to those reactor wires…”. He straightened himself up, regarding me for a moment. “You think you can take a look at this?” His tone was genuine, even laced with a hint of surprise. “Uh… I mean… I can try?” Apparently, despite my clear apprehension, that was all he needed to hear. The Mandalorian hoisted himself out of the vent, stood up, and gestured for me to take a look. Awkwardly, I lowered myself into the vent, and I could immediately tell even from the smell that something wasn’t right; was that… smoke? I looked at the wires in front of me, then studied the fuse box to my left that had already been opened. There were some wires missing… oh goodness… there were more than just wires missing. Stabilizers, three different electromagnetic hinges, and countless other pieces were simply… gone. It was a wonder we were able to jump into hyperspace in the first place, and a miracle that we weren’t hurtled out of it and right into another planet or something. The speed we would’ve exited at before, with all those pieces missing – it explained why we were so close to that planet. “I need a…” I studied my surroundings. What did I need? What could I possibly do with a few tools that could solve a problem like this? “I need a hyperdrive attenuator if you have one. And a jumper bypass.” I stuck my hand up from the vent and felt leather brush it as he placed the two tools in my hand.

The more I worked, the more it dawned on me just how bad the problem was. This ship had almost definitely been ransacked, and the Mandalorian didn’t seem to be able to offer any explanation as to how or when this had happened. Whoever had done it was smart though… remove all the most valuable bits, ones that could easily be sold on their own, but could still allow the ship to get far enough away that the owner wouldn’t be able to come back and hunt you down. Someone on Yak’ish Temeen had clearly made quick work of this ship and, judging by the path they’d created in their robbery, they had managed to enter from the underbelly of the ship from where it had been parked. If the situation were any less dire, I would’ve marveled at our current dynamic. I was giving orders to a Mandalorian, asking him to go up and check something on the console or hand me a tool. But after a while I emerged with the bad news. “This ship is… it’s really not in good shape. We’re lucky we made it this far because –” and, as if right on cue, the ship shook violently, throwing me back down onto the floor of the vent. The hold flashed red, and beeping noises blared all around us. “Here, quick, we need to get into the cockpit.” I looked up to see the Mandalorian extending his hand down to me, and I wondered if there was an earnest expression under that helmet. I took his hand, and he hoisted me up and out of the vent with such ease that I almost fell back into it. Back in the cockpit, both strapped into our seats, I began to see just how bad it was. Those fragile pillars that had been unknowingly holding the ship together were now falling apart all at once like dominos. Fear had emboldened me now, so I said what I was thinking. “We need to land, now, or this’ll become impossible to solve.” “I – this thing is barely responding” grunted the Mandalorian, presumably referring to the navcom. “I don’t even know where we are, let alone the name of this planet.” “And if we don’t land this ship, we’ll never get the opportunity to find out.” I hadn’t intended that to sound so harsh, and I would’ve been scared of him turning back to confront me about it if he wasn’t so preoccupied wrestling to control the ship. He didn’t even reply, but seemingly agreed with my assertion, because he began landing procedures. “It’s going to be a bumpy one and we’re too high up for me to tell if there’s a safe place to land. This could end badly so strap in.” I certainly didn’t need the verbal confirmation of that, but I said nothing, only gripping onto the side of my seat.

The closer we got to the upper atmosphere of the planet, I felt the ship shake harder and get hotter. I squeezed my eyes closed for a moment, silently praying that this wouldn’t be the way I left this universe. For a few seconds it got hotter and hotter, and then when I opened my eyes I could see we were beginning to get low enough to see the ground beneath us. If we weren’t falling out of the sky I would’ve been enamored by the beauty of this planet. It was lush in its colors, with snaking rivers and distant lakes. The forests were dark and immense – I’d never seen anything like it before. I snapped out of my transfixion when I remembered we’d need somewhere to land, and I began scanning the ground that we were hurtling towards. “Over there!” I pointed to an open field on the edge of the forest, still holding onto my shaking seat. “Got it!” He said through gritted teeth. I watched as he wrestled with the steering, the ship jolting slowly but surely forward towards the clearing. I watched the ground loom under us – 300 feet, 200 feet, 100 feet… “Hold on – ” said the Mandalorian as he gripped onto the dash. “I’m going to slow us down for landing but there may be an impact.” I gripped tighter to my seat, closing my eyes desperately. I felt gravity push from beneath me as the ship began to slow, and then –

CRASH

A shock wave jolted through my body, accompanied by the sound of cracking metal. For a moment I sat there with my eyes still squeezed shut, listening to the sound of heat expanding and creaking the joints of the ship around us. “Not the worst landing I’ve experienced,” was all he said, laced with a tone of relief and humor. Humor? That was one word I had never thought I would use to describe the words of a bounty hunter. “Come on,” he said, rising from his seat with admittedly less composure than usual. “This ship won’t fix itself.” It was nice to see he was human in some ways, although he was far more level-headed than I was. In a far calmer hold I could now better assess the full damage we had taken, but it didn’t even take my skill to see what was wrong. I went back to the main vent in the hold, clambered in awkwardly and lay down so as to assess the damage more thoroughly. “We need to replace those missing parts if we wanna get off this planet,” I said, as if he needed my confirmation. He didn’t answer, and when I slide back out, I saw him standing over me at the edge of the vent looking down to where I lay in this dark and oily pit. I realized what I must look like to him right now. I almost certainly had soot and grime on my face, because it coated my hands. I was sweaty and hadn’t gotten my hair out of my face, so it was probably matted. I went pink at the thought. “Make a list of what we need, and what repairs you can do. I’ll try and use the navcom to find a civilization nearby… if there is one.” He lingered for a moment, and I wondered what he was looking at under that mask; the oil dribbling out near my feet, the wires hanging lose out the side of the vent, or my grubby face…

#the mandalorian#star wars#din djarin#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#mando x you#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian fanfic#the mandalorian fic#din djarin fanfic#din djarin fic#din djarin reader insert#din djarin x ofc#the mandalorian imagine#din djarin imagine

#the mandalorian #star wars #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fic #mando x you #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fic #din djarin reader insert #din djarin x ofc #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine

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spc4eva · 3 years

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Star-Burned: Chapter Two

Ngl, reader is well endowed in the breast department. hate me. trust me, reader is gonna complain about it later about her back hurting.

Paz fluff is probably my favorite thing to write. This fic is undoing me. Goddammit.

Word Count: 8,626

Rating: M (+18) oral sex m!receiving

Masterlist

Cross Posted on AO3

Paz barely understood what was happening when he'd crash landed, falling out of hyperspace and being thrown around the hull of his ship like a tin can before crash landing. It was miraculous he'd survived with just broken ribs. An even bigger miracle that he'd been found.

You were a pretty young lady with more hair than should be humanly possible, a ray of sunshine, and so hilariously goofy that Paz was smiling beneath his helmet half the time as you trotted in with meals for him, eying him beneath your mop of hair --- which you often tried to manage in a ponytail, though ringlets would fall free and cascade into your face smattered with a constellation of freckles. That's why he named you Tranyc -- Mando'a for sunny or quite literally translating to 'star-burned', because you were the ray of sunshine on his day while he was stuck in bed healing. You were good company, easy to talk to, never berated him despite how much of a burden he was. Took him less than a day to realize you were on your own, running the entire moisture farm on nothing but cultivated crops and several cups of caf a day. And despite how often you fumble over words, you were smart.

There wasn't much to do and the highlights of Paz's day consisted of you spending time with him. You had piled all your holobooks near him, given him the remote for the television, and anything else you thought he might like while you wandered off to go make repairs and tend to your livelihood. You must've been tired. The farm was a fulltime job on its own and now you had to look after him. Paz felt guilty, because you'd not complained once, not asked him for credits or when he might be leaving. You were cautiously curious, but not impolite with your questions. Not many people would have chanced bringing a Mandalorian into their home, let alone a young woman on her own. That was what was different about you and maybe it had to do with Paz's sheer luck of landing on a relatively backwater planet where people weren't in fear of their lives constantly.

Paz had lucked out.

He hated feeling weak, being unable to walk on his own, but you were blissfully patient and kind, cracking jokes and making silly faces, telling him how he'd be good as new to start back up on hunting -- or whatever it was that Mandalorians did. And while he was eager to not have his ribs feel as if they'd been kicked in by a bantha, he was also ruing the countdown for when he'd have to return to his ship and leave you behind. Despite it being a few scant weeks, Paz liked you. Not just because you were pretty, but he found your demeanor relaxing. So when he managed to get to his feet to go to the kitchen and he saw your hair sticking out on the couch, he trotted over without an afterthought to check on you.

He hadn't been expecting to see your coveralls crumpled on the floor and your beet red facing eying him in horror. Originally, he'd believed you were hurt from when he'd fallen on you. After all, you were a small thing. Despite being lean from working the farm you were dwarfed by him. And when the blanket had fallen over... Paz's mind began turning, the gears clicking into place, the disbelief that the pretty ray of sunshine had been caught in the midst of masturbating. To the thought of him.

Until that point you'd been hospitable and courteous, it was the last thing he expected and dangling deliciously in front of him like a forbidden fruit. He more than owed you at this point. He owed you his life and getting you off wasn't really repayment. In fact, Paz had enjoyed it, thinking the situation was more self indulgent than selfless. You became putty in his hands, passing out from a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction. That brought a smile to his face -- well, there had already been a smile -- but it was bigger now.

He didn't mind cleaning you up and putting you into some more comfortable clothing, tucking you into the large bed that had obviously been yours. He had found discarded hair elastics under the pillows and a few socks that had been lost to the depths of the sheets. You had taken care of him, he could manage picking up your tiny form and putting you to bed. You didn't come around until morning when Paz was up in the fresher, still testing his weight on his aching chest.

"You can walk now," you popped your head through the open door, stating the obvious, but it made him smile that you weren't half as doleful as he'd thought you'd be after yesterday. "Um... I can make breakfast real quick and then there's something I wanna show you if you're up to it."

"If I'm up to it?" Paz rumbled, he still couldn't wear his armor, the weight would be too much of a burden. "How are you feeling?"

Your face brightened with blush immediately, matching the hue of your flaming locks at the sheer mention. "G-good, th-thank you."

The moment he'd put you to bed, he'd staggered off to the fresher to relieve himself and the throbbing erection he had from going through his ministrations. Not that you needed to know that he had been wanting more. Yesterday hadn't been about him. The last few weeks you had doted your attention on him.

"Good."

You darted away, back in your usual attire which consisted of mechanic coveralls, boots, and a tightfitting short sleeve shirt in russet. Your arms were bared from the bicep down and you wore a pair of beat up leather gloves, hair cinched at the base of your neck with a straining scrunchie that fought desperately to contain all the curls which rebelled at being held against the back of your slightly too large overalls.

Truthfully, you were very nervous over what had happened yesterday and even more distressed that you had slept away the entire freaking day. The hardworking farmer in you was berating you with every step, unbelievable, you slept the entire day until breakfast. Now, when drifters had stayed and you had slept with them, you had woken up and prepared breakfast without an afterthought. There was no guilt, no twisting of nerves in your tummy, because you knew that what had happened was a simple arrangement of two lonely people breaking up the cobwebs. What happened with the Mandalorian should have felt the same, but it didn't. Only one man had stayed a few days and engaged in multiple trysts and by the end, he'd been asking you to leave behind the moisture farm to go adventuring with him. While that was a very... juicy prospect, you couldn't think about leaving behind the canyons you'd known your entire life. You loved it here, even if it was solitude and silence.

From the views up on the plateau where your farm was located, a bird's eye view of the spanning clay walls, billowing in waves of amber, brown, and orange. Your favorite days were the overcast ones where the clouds would sweep low and fringe the mountaintops with mist. That was during the wet season when the lowest parts of the canyons would fill with turquoise water from the rain. The only freestanding water you'd ever gotten the luxury of seeing and it was still a trip on your speeder bike since you lived pretty high up on the plateaus. Wasn't that time of year though, it was still the dry season and so you had to keep regular maintenance on the farm to suck every bit of moisture up.

You kept mostly grains on the farm, but had a few animals to include tip-yips which produced eggs. Otherwise, any greenery you had was produced in your greenhouse, utilizing misty puffs of water to keep it nice and humid inside. Without it, you certainly wouldn't have been getting enough nutrients to live out this remote. You would stock up on seed every six months and grow leafy greens, root vegetables, had a few berry bushes, and rhubarbs. They were genetically modified to have additional benefits, keeping you going and healthy. You loved checking in on them, standing in your little bubble of green, imagining other planets that looked just like it but instead of being in a little capsule -- the entire planet was green. That was hard to fathom, giving the landscape you'd grown up on, but so were oceans and you knew they existed.

Jumbles followed you out to the coop, drooling all over the dirt as you scolded him for getting too close. His head drooped and he stayed behind while you picked out some fresh eggs and threw fodder out for the tip-yips. You knew if you didn't keep the birds carefully locked up, Jumbles would gobble them all up. "Calm down. I'll give you some eggs you beast," you chided as you stopped in the green house to pick a few vegetables and fruit before going back inside. You'd never wanted more aside from companionship and to not be alone. You loved your farm so much and all the work you had put into it. You loved this dry, arid planet and the raw beauty you got to witness. But you weren't perfectly content.

You were lonely.

Paz was waiting in the kitchen at the table, which was funny, considering he couldn't actually eat with you. Humming to yourself, you put a pot of caf on and then frowned at 6PO, who wandered around aimlessly. "6PO please make yourself useful. Go sweep out the greenhouse if you can't decide on what to do," you sigh, the droid looking as confused as ever, before creaking out the front door.

"Where did you get that droid?" Paz asked curiously as you set a skillet on the stove and began heating it up.

"Found it," you shrug. "Wasn't in one piece, so I scavenged parts and put it all back together again. Some of the neural harnessing was missing, so the droid will never be complete unless I replace it entirely."

"You mean you reprogrammed it?" he actually sounded sort of impressed.

You rolled your shoulders again. "Yeah, suppose so. Wasn't too hard. Lots of trial and error... and caf." And time. During the wet season you had more time on your hands and so typically that's when you'd spend it on projects.

"How'd you learn how to do that? Droids are complicated pieces of tech."

"My dad taught me. He was an engineer, could run this whole place without even trying. Always knew how to fix everything," you gave a sad chuckle at the thought of your parents. You missed them so much. Maybe if they hadn't passed you wouldn't be half as lonely and feeling as if there was something missing in your life. "Studied on... Coruscant, I think? Before the war broke out. Round 20BBY he came out here with my mom and I because they wanted to avoid the fighting."

"And he taught you everything he knew," Paz assumed.

"Oh, well, I mean, probably not everything. He probably would have found a way to fix 6PO completely."

"Do you mind if I ask what happened?"

The corner of your mouth quirked involuntarily and you stared down at the pan as you began sautéing the cut up tubulars. "We get a wet season here every standard year. The canyons are vast, mostly stone, and not porous. My mother was sick, so they had to make a visit to the city which is a 2 day trip on bike. Usually, we don't leave during the wet season. Too dangerous. But mom's condition wasn't improving and so my father decided the risk was worth it.

"In order to get to the city, you have to go through the canyons. This time of year, no big deal, but during the wet season? Can start raining without warning and when it does, the crevasses act as funnels, diverting water to the lowest point, which... you're catching my drift, right?" You glance up, not particularly fond of explaining how nature worked around here, especially when it had taken your parents from you.

"Flash floods?"

"Mm," you began cracking the eggs. "Can't outrun a flash flood. Not on a speeder bike. They drowned. So-" you drew in a sharp breath. You had rationalized this several times over. Never really talked about it, but it didn't make you cry anymore. This planet had been good to you. Better than most people could hope for when they settled on a farm. You knew that you were lucky because of that and you couldn't resent the planet even if it took your parents from you. "The Jawas found them a little while after that. They know us, we trade with them -- I still do -- and they brought my parents back for me. Despite what people say about them, they didn't ask me for payment."

"I'm sorry... was that six years ago?"

"Mhm," you confirmed, wiping your hands off and picking up a few eggs, cracking them over your massiff's eagerly waiting mouth. "Not your fault. Might be safe from raiders and looters, but it's a harsh unforgiving landscape. Sometimes you get too comfortable and forget about that. My dad knew the risks when he took my mother. They lived a good life, just wish they didn't have to go that way." You wish you hadn't been left alone.

"Where's the closest neighbor aside from the Jawas?"

"Hundreds of miles," now you were plating the food and grabbing mugs for the caf. "The canyons are the best place to set up moisture farms. The deserts soak up all the water from the wet seasons, but due to the stone around here, it's a lot easier for moisture to be trapped in the vaporators. However, they're remote and a lot of the plateaus are too dangerous to set up on because the foundation of stone is likely to crumble. Only about three farms in all of the canyons and this is one of them. We're the highest producers of water on the planet, especially during the wet season. 'Bout the only time I see starships since the city will come and pick it up."

You slapped Jumbles on the nose as he leaned over the counter toward one of the freshly assembled breakfasts, causing him to whine. "Oh shut it you baby," you hadn't even hit him that hard, just a little boop on the nose and he was pretending you'd wailed into him. "Drama queen."

You brought Paz's food over for him and went to grab your own. "I can go outside. A few things I can start on before we head out."

"Sit down and eat first," he invited, which confused you, because how were the both of you going to eat with the whole helmet situation. "If you sit at the counter with your back to me, it'll be fine."

Oh, well that went against what he said about only removing his helmet when he was alone. But... that also meant he trusted you. How many opportunities did you have to remove his helmet? The first day you probably could have if you weren't terrified of being shot. Until you'd gotten to know Paz better, he had been the big scary Mandalorian and not the patient and easygoing one you knew now. "Are you certain? I mean, it's not a big deal. I eat on the go all the time," you object kindly, not wishing for him to feel obligated to have you in your own kitchen.

"Sit," he insisted.

"Well, I mean-" you grabbed a chair, mostly talking to yourself when you muttered those words and pulled it up to the counter. Jumbles was drooling on your leg, looking at you as if you hung the stars, which admittedly -- was quite cute except for the fact that you knew he just wanted your leftovers.

"Where'd you get a massiff?" There was a click and a hiss, the helmet disengaging and being set on the table. You tried not to think about how easy it would be to turn around and finally get a look at him, focusing on your cup of caf instead.

"Kind of just... found him," you reveal, thinking about the day you'd stood toe to toe with the beast, your arms full of scrap metal, wondering if you were going to have to use the bacta shot after getting munched on by the creature. "Thought he was gonna try and eat me."

"It's wild?" Paz's voice was different, unmodulated. There was still the same warmth you were used to, but the lack of the radio static and translation from human to droid made your skin hot, little lances of static playing down your spine as the deep bass in its full glory.

"Uuuuh," you almost forget that you're eating, your egg falling off the fork and onto your lap. Jumbles gobbles it up before you even think about grabbing it. "Jee-uh-yeah. Started feeding him scraps, probably shouldn't have done that, and then he kinda just started listening to me. I read that on Tatooine Tusken Raiders keep them as hounds, so I thought that maybe they're just partial to bonding with sentient beings."

Honestly, you'd always been good with animals. An uncanny, unnatural, totally unexplainable ability you'd possessed since you were a kid and ran into a wild dewback and nearly pissed yourself. Instead of swallowing you whole, the dewback had palmed your hand and then trotted off. The canyons were host to a plethora of fauna, many of which were quite dangerous. Having Jumbles had actually saved your skin more often than not, as the canine was keen on keeping his source of food around.

"When they're raised from pups they are," Paz informed you.

"Oooh. Well, I found Jumbles when he was an adult," you gave the dope a fond pat on the head. He leaned into your gloved grasp and harrumphed contentedly. "Maybe he was already trained and got lost." Yeah, that sounded more logical than your weird animal whispering abilities. "He's been good. If not for him, I don't think I would have found you. He's the one who led me over to your starship." And that's when you realized something. "H-hey, Jumbles is living and your helmet-"

"I'm not worried about a massiff seeing me," Paz chuckled. "I'm not going to shoot your dog."

"I-I didn't say you were," you stammer, heart fluttering a little bit as you gripped one of the massiff's spines to comfort yourself. He could very easily shoot your dog. Did he want to shoot your dog? You didn’t think so, but you weren’t keen on losing him. "Just you said no living thing and then you'd only take your helmet off alone..."

"No living sentient thing," he corrected, his silverware clattering before the helmet clicked back into place. A tiny wave of disappointment washed off you, almost as if you were expecting to get a little more time with his raw unfiltered voice. "Thank you for breakfast. Good as always."

You blushed slightly at the compliment. It was just simple food, hearty enough to keep you going throughout the day. Standing up, you nearly whirled into the Mandalorian's chest as you went to retrieve his things for him. Catching yourself before you did, you offered an apologetic smile before frisking the plate from him and placing it in the sink for later. It was a sonic sink, you were very careful about how water was used. Only for food and growing plants.

Out by the front door you grabbed your outing belt, which had your blaster and a set of tools that you'd been using. Picking up the sack beside it, laden with a few canteens, ration bars, and holobooks you glanced back at Paz. He still didn't have his armor on, but he did adorn his belt with a vibro-blade and pistol. "C'mon," you told him, offering a small wave before striding out the front door and into the crisp, sunny morning.

Drinking in a deep breath of dry air, you gave a dizzying and pleased smile before beginning to talk. "Now, I told you that I borrowed your speeder bike to get us back up here. There was a bit of damage to it since it took a beating during the crash. Most superficial, which I managed to get the dings out of the metal and replace the exhausts which were nearly crushed. Probably needs a new paint job, but I didn't have any paint laying around," you explained, bringing him over to the bike. You'd doted a bit of time on it, because you knew bikes and it was easy for you to fix. Plus it was nicer than the one you had on the farm, so you'd been using it to go back and forth between the ranch and his starship.

Paz's helmet was craned down as he gave the bike a one over and your original pride began to fizzle out with each beat of silence. Finally, "You did a really good job. It... didn't take up too much of your time, did it?"

"Hm? Oh no, not at all. Bikes are easy, fixed plenty of bikes in much worse condition than this," you gave it a fond pat, relief flooding you that he wasn't upset that you'd fiddled with it. "But this isn't what I wanted to show you," you climbed on. "Hop on!"

Paz chuckled at your overexuberance, the way the bike looked much too big for someone of your stature. Afterall, it was his bike and so he'd gotten one that would fit his physique. Your arms were stretched upward to meet the accelerators and it was quite comical from the dopey, excited smile on your face to the way your legs barely reached the stirrups. He sat on behind you, edging up comfortably so that his thighs framed you.

"Might wanna hang on," you warned mischievously.

"What, this isn't going to be a leisurely ride?"

"The canyons look much the same when boxed in. Trust me, just hang on," you told him, feeling your cheeks roll was heated pleasure as strong arms encircled you and his pelvis pressed tighter to your backside. Oh, that felt really good, almost enough that you could lean back into his strong embrace and relax as you started this ride. But... No. You chased away the devious thoughts and tried not to fixate on the sturdy Mandalorian behind you as you revved the engine. It purred like a loth-cat, humming deliciously before you kicked off and started whistling down the hill and into the chasm that led into the canyons.

He wasn't expecting how quickly the two of you rocketed off. Arms tensing around you to prevent himself from sliding right off as gravity snared him, he let out a breathy laugh. "You weren't kidding."

"Tried to warn you," you laughed at him, shouting over the din of the motors that echoed against the canyon walls. Bowing your head ever so much, you went up another gear and stuck the wide turn. He grabbed on again, his chest now flush to your back as you dared to accelerate again.

"Where-" his voice was breathless in your ear. "Where did you learn how to drive like this?"

"Mom," you grin. "Dad was the engineer. Mom was the podracer."

"Kriff!" he cursed as you hooked the bike, reversed the thrusters, and then sputtered a sharp turn that should not have been possible except for the trick maneuver. During down time and on your long journeys to the city, you'd picked up a thing or two from your mother. Speeder bikes were easy compared to podracers, she'd tell you. Small, streamline, and capable of quite a few tricks if you understood the inertia, gravity, and capabilities of the machine you were on. Passing the signs out for the Jawas, you curved the halt, brakes slamming as the sideways turn kicked up clay sand and dust. He was still clinging to you even after you'd stopped.

"Did I frighten the big Mandalorian?" you teased, his vice grip finally relenting after taking a moment to realize that you stopped.

Paz's muscles were vibrating from the adrenaline filling him from helmet to boot from the ride. The last thing he'd been expecting from you, the little farmhand mechanic, were daring turns and hiking the bike up to full speed without as much of an ounce of panic as you tried to take a 90 degree turn. Even Paz wasn't as gutsy with a bike to attempt what you had done, but you'd stuck the turn gloriously and were laughing at him now. He hadn't realized that he could like you more, but you were filled with pleasant little surprises.

"Can you podrace too?" he countered as he let you go and you hopped down, springy, unaffected and brimming with joy. Your hair was scattered a bit, a few curls puffing loose from your scrunchie.

"Never tried, but can't be too difficult," you reply. Not arrogance or mock confidence, just... the comprehension of someone who knew a lot about machines and how they worked. "Now, come take a look. Gotta talk to you about somethings-" you padded away, leaving Paz to dismount and trail after you.

The ship still had a hole in the hull, landing gear squashed, but the supply crates had been moved back inside. For something that had crash landed, Paz was astonished how intact it appeared. The reason for his confusion was soon explained as you brought him inside and he saw that wires had been soldered off and repairs had been made.

"So, I've been heading out here when I can to make sure the thing didn't leak its fuel lines everywhere," you started, gesturing to the neatly arranged containers. "Now, I'm not a starship mechanic, but I have a few old holobooks and the manual that was laying around in here. I read up on them and was able to figure out that the fuel line was cut -- managed to fix that -- and the engines were running at 10% capacity after debris got sucked in. That's how the thing didn't explode on impact, the thrusters were still working enough that it padded your landing.

"Landing gear is shot. I don't have any lifts strong enough to hoist the ship up or the proper caliber of steel to fix the hull. I got the engines to bout 50%, so theoretically that should get you to the spaceport on the other side of the planet. Gonna be crunchy, don't know what's hiding underneath here. So you've got a few options -- try your best to get to the spaceport and the pay for repairs there, you can try to get off planet, though next planet over is Tatooine and you'd pay an arm and a leg for shoddy repairs, or we can try trading with the Jawas. They've got their sandcrawler which might have the capability of picking your ship up, but won't be cheap. Even with my connections they're gonna want something good."

Paz was flabbergasted and at a loss for words as he looked at the work you'd done on top of the farm, on top of taking care of him, and how candid you were about what solutions he had going forward. "How did you have the time to do all this?" he asked.

"Hm?" you were looking over at a few wires that needed to be routed properly. "Uh, lots and lots of caf."

No wonder you had passed out for over 16 hours yesterday. Additionally, you'd read dry holobooks on starships and for what? To help him? At this point he knew that you weren't expecting anything out of it. He'd not been to a lot of backwater planets, but he was beginning to realize that people like you were more common in these quiet remote locations, just happy to be helping. Why that nearly broke him right there, he couldn't say, but he was absolutely moved by your selfless compassion that you didn't even really acknowledge, because it was all so natural to you. A little gem in the canyons, hiding up on your plateau farming water.

"What do I owe you? Repairs like this cost a lot... you've saved me a lot of credits, Tranyc."

You were a little distracted, admittedly, your eyes finding the problems you hadn't remedied yet. "Owe me?" you repeated before finally looking back toward the visor. "You're my guest. Don't worry about it. Consider it a little bit of desert hospitality. There's still some work I need to do, haven't gotten round to it, but I figured you'd want to see your ship."

He didn't owe anything. How didn't he owe anything? Paz was shell shocked as you turned away, removing a set of pliers from your tool belt as you started working on the frayed wires that were getting on your nerves. People always wanted something, no matter how minute or simple it was and yet... You were fiddling along, pleased as a womp rat in sand you continued to chug along as if he weren't even there. And you'd learned how to do this in weeks? Taught yourself how to do it? Your parents had to have been smart and if your father studied at university on Coruscant -- you might've been modest about it, but that meant he'd imparted the same years of study into you while you grew up.

He knew how to make baseline repairs, how to weld, and keep the ship from falling apart. What you were doing -- he had no idea how to do. Truthfully, the gunship needed a lot of work before it was going to be good enough to leave the planet and you were correct -- parts were needed. Sitting on a storage crate, he placed his helmet in his palm and rubbed his aching ribs, trying to think of which path would be the best option. Going to the spaceport meant that he'd leave you behind. He also didn't know how much repairs were going to cost on this planet. Flying to Tatooine was just a bad decision all around, who knew if the ship could handle it. Then trading with Jawas... It would keep him around you for a bit longer and you knew the Jawas. He was bound to have something that they wanted aboard the Kote. He could also use a talented mechanic, but somehow doubted that you'd be willing to part with your farm.

The way you'd talked about your home, you were very proud of it and you loved the landscape. But still... all alone... he didn't like the thought of that. Even if this planet was relatively safe, what if the Jawas found your body in the canyon ravines?

He had been lost to his thoughts as you worked, the ship heating up in the midday sun. You'd flipped down the straps of your coveralls to work and that's when he noticed. A thin sheen of sweat decorated your arms, a few curls sticking to your face as you hunched over the controls for his cryo chamber. But that wasn't what attracted his attention. No, it was the swell of your breasts beneath the fitted shirt you wore, the perky mounds that were well sized for your slender form. The fabric left little to the imagination, mostly because you weren't wearing a bra. Why would you? You lived on your own and bras were awful, constricting things that made you even clammier on hot days. Plus they were stupidly expensive.

The coveralls usually kept them hidden, but with the thick panel of fabric cast down, Paz was staring. He'd been distracted by your lower half yesterday, but not his fixation was on the top. How could you look so good in just a tight fitting shirt that didn't betray any cleavage? He estimated that each would be more than a handful for him, the nipples pressing through the fabric and you didn't notice, completely unaware of the lack of decorum because you were a farmer and those sort of things probably didn't pop into your mind. Which was why he felt a tiny bit ashamed watching you, eying you from the protective mask of his helmet. Would you want him to touch you again? You had told him that you'd been getting off to him, but perhaps that was in the moment when he'd caught you.

Neither of you had broached the subject this morning, but nor were you being incredibly demure or shy. You were just being normal.

"Wanna toss me a canteen from in there?" you asked, pointing to the bag you'd dumped by the hole in the hull.

Paz tore his eyes away, glancing down, retrieving the requested item. Tossing it to you, you caught it and upcapped it, taking a few generous gulps and spilling some on yourself. He gritted his teeth as you wiped your mouth, the soft plush lips having been locked around the rim, the water seeping into your shirt. Your shirt. Dank farrik. Now he was staring again, hopelessly pressing his palms together as he tried to keep it together. Stars, he wanted more of you than just the bit of pleasure he'd brought yesterday, but it wasn't his place to take it. You'd already gone above and beyond in assisting him and so he couldn't just ask you to sleep with him, no matter how much he wanted it. That felt... wrong. Like a dirty, awful thing to request after he'd come to like you -- only utilizing you for your body in the end and not the company he'd grown fond of.

"Did you think about what you're gonna do?" you ask him, drawing his visor back up to you.

"The Jawas--" his voice was kinda hoarse, which made you tilt your head. "Might have something on here that they'd like."

A smile unfurled on your face, because secretly you'd been praying that he'd choose that option. Just stealing more time with the Mandalorian, despite the fact that he was stranded. You didn't want him to leave, but it was going to happen eventually, just like it did with everyone else who came here. Everyone left. Everyone but you and the animals. You were pretty sure you were gonna cry like a baby when the Mandalorian finally departed. "I can send 'em a transmission tonight. Probably will take them the better part of a day to get here, but they'll come."

"Thank you again," Paz insisted, but you brushed it off with a silly and overly dramatic hand wave.

"There's gotta be some kindness in this galaxy. 'Else it'd be a sad, miserable, hopeless place," you counter, springing back to your feet, dusting your gloves off animatedly. "Let's finish up in here and then head back. Got some work I have to do on the farm too."

Sonic showers weren't the best, but they were all that you knew. Aside from when the rain would billet down during the wet seasons, you didn't know what an actual water shower felt like. Either way, you needed to get the sweat and grime off of you by the end of each day, so you trotted out with your pajamas on and into the Mandalorian. You'd already contacted the Jawas and were getting ready to tuck in for the night when he caught you. "Oof, sorry... I-I didn't hurt your ribs did I?" Your eyes flitted to where his injury was immediately.

"I'm fine," he assured you, large hands butterflied against your sides where he'd caught you from doing too much damage by trolloping right into his chest. Big. His hands were big. So large that they covered your ribs entirely when gripping your sides. They lingered, the skin beneath growing hot and beginning to tingle. Then he removed them, as if he were worried about overstaying his welcome.

Your skin sighed where he released and you glanced up chewing your lip. "Um..." uncertain -- you didn't know where this was going, but why the hell not. What did you have to lose? He was stuck here until his ship was going to be fixed. "Yesterday--"

"I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have done that," Paz interrupted, launching your heart up into your throat.

"Wha-no, I liked it," you assured him, feeling courageous enough to take his hands in yours. Maker, you looked like a child, holding those large calloused palms in yours. "I... wouldn't mind more. I-i-if that's what you want, of course," you sputtered, cheeks sweltering and ears about to rocket off from the intense embarrassment you felt in suggesting such a thing. It'd been easier before. You could see the faces of your guests, gauge what they were thinking, see the lust in their eyes that you could give right back. They'd never stayed this long, never gotten to know you this well, and... you didn't want to make him uncomfortable because you felt a little horny with him around. But Maker, how was that not possible? He was an absolute unit, pure muscle, easy conversation, and had a voice that shattered your resolve like an earthquake.

"Would I want more?" he repeated slowly and your stomach sunk into the abyss, blood draining from your face. The leap of faith had been in vain and instead of swan diving into water, you'd hit stone. And then suddenly his hands were on your chest, driving the air from your in uncontrolled gasps as he squeezed. "Maker--" he cursed, vocoder breaking up as you almost melted on the spot. "So... you're so mesh'la. Had my eyes on you all day while you were working. You're such... a distraction."

He wasn't rough, despite holding onto your breasts, moving carefully over the fabric as he caressed you. In the past, your chest had been a fixation of other lovers because you were well endowed and you were accustomed to rough squeezing to the point where it was painful. It was almost as if most men just wanted to push them until they popped or just liked the pillowy sensation of squeezing and didn't care much for how it felt for you. They were bloody sensitive and you didn't appreciate them being manhandled -- except for right now, right now was good. Better than good in fact.

"Distraction? I'm the one doing all the work," you mumbled, leaning into his touch as he palmed you and rubbed circles over your breasts, the nipples stiffening beneath the fabric and dimpling it. "While you just... just sit there."

"I'm still hurt," he didn't sound very convincing, maybe that wasn't the point.

"Too hurt to be doing anything too... arduous," you pointed out, humming as he gave another gentle squeeze. "Last night did you-- I sort of just--" passed out. Say it. You passed out and left him there with an erection. That couldn't have been too pleasant. To top it off with a cherry, he'd put you to bed with clothes on.

"I took care of things, mesh'la. You left me with some... good visuals," his thumb was circling your nipple, still separated by your shirt, the careful flicking making you shudder. Your entire body was reacting, legs weak and the same radiating heat vibrating between your thighs.

"Bu-ut it couldn't have been that great. N-not like..." you fell off, head lolling slightly as his hands flipped the hem of your shirt and began cruising the plane of your tummy, scratching its way to your breast. A hot palm met skin, a low moan echoing as he grasped you firmly, but not too hard.

"Stars, you're so soft," he murmured, pushing the shirt up -- higher and higher until your breasts were revealed to the air. "Maker, look at you."

The praise made your thighs clench together. They didn't usually talk. Not as much as Paz was, which was somewhat ironic considering he had a helmet on and was a mysterious Mandalorian and yet he filled your ears up as he roamed you. No, it was all typically rushed, frenzied, and to sate both parties. Honestly, the sate part was just the rutting, having to take your own hands to your clit while your past lovers plowed into you. There was no copious foreplay aside from a little making out and breast squeezing and while they'd called you pretty, it never really felt the same as the way as Paz's voice. The way in which he was breathy, as if he couldn't believe his eyes, and that you'd been put on the planet delicately by the Maker himself. It made your heart rush, galloping forward, and it made you want him more.

"Le-let me," you found your hands, having been savoring his exploring before brushing the hem of his trousers. You had felt him, sort of, yesterday but you didn't actually know what was beneath the belt. From how tall and broad he was, you had an assumption of what was there. "Y-you're still hurt, s-so..." pitifully tinny, your voice was sliding away as you offered to give him something in exchange for what he'd done for you.

"Mesh'la... I-you have already done so much-" he protested.

"But yesterday--" you were whining now, hand coasting down more until you cupped his groin, feeling his length twitch. He was already hard. You weren't even undressed and he was already rock solid. "It'll feel better this way."

"Is... is that what you want?"

You nod, waiting for permission.

He couldn't say no. Not while your palm was between his legs and you were staring up at him with big, round, imploring eyes. In fact, he didn't think he could possibly deny you anything, removing his hands, the shirt falling back down over your spectacular chest. "I-Yes," he confirmed, drawing a shaking breath which made his ribs ache.

You undid the belt buckle, hands scrambling slightly from nerves before undoing the buttons. Coming down on your knees didn't really work, there was still too much of a height difference, forcing you to half-crouch as your fingers slipped beneath the fabric of his boxes and untucked his manhood. Now it was your turn to be wordless. You had expected it, but expecting and witnessing were two very different things. He was massive, just the sight of him making your core twitch painfully, imagining trying to accommodate him, doubting that he'd even be able to fully sheath himself in you without pushing into your tummy. If he could even get in.

Ok, so when you had offered to do this you thought he would fit in your mouth. Doubt welled in your stomach and he must have noticed as you stared down his cock, brushing a hand over your loose hair. "You don't have to-" he soothed. But the challenge spurned you on, undaunted and a little over zealous to be honest.

"You'll tell me... what you like?" you had just flattened your tongue against the weeping head of his cock, licking like a kitten, lathing him before you'd attempt to take more.

His thighs shook and he gave a terse nod.

You weren't extremely experienced in this field. Just enough that you knew now not to bite someone. But this wasn't just 'someone'. You liked Paz a lot and wanted it to feel good for him. To chase away the pain in his chest and to show how much you appreciated what he'd done for you. Guys liked blowjobs, didn't they? That's why they were requested so much, you just assumed that he'd like it all the same, and honestly you wanted to become more intimate with his cock after feeling it pressed beneath your leg.

You ran your tongue along his shaft, trailing back around before leaving saliva. Your hand smoothed the wetness over him, pumping a few times over his length to help lubricate him. Then you made your first attempt, tongue over your lips as you pushed his girth into the damp chasm of your mouth. He groaned, fingers tightening in your hair, which gave you the courage to take him deeper. The head of his cock met the resistance of the back of your throat and you gagged, eyes watering and jaw aching. "Relax, mesh'la. Relax your throat-" he managed gently through tight breaths.

Easier said than done, forgetting to breathe, your throat clenching, you were forced to pull away for a moment.

Spittle trailed down your plush lips, cheeks flushed wildly as you considered your next approach. You were a sight for sore eyes, Paz's own glued to you as you gasped for air. You'd bitten off more than you could chew, but he admired your undaunted commitment as you sank back onto him and closed your eyes, clutching onto his leg for balance. This time, you were able to take his guidance better, breathing through your nose before easing your throat. Your mouth was small, tight, and damp. With the accommodation of the back of your throat, Paz's hips bucked and a strangled moan crackled through the modulator.

"G-good. Fuck -- so good, mesh'la," he praised, beginning to move in tandem with you, fucking deeply into your throat. Your face was hot and wet, tears leaking out from your eyes at the sensation of your throat being stretched. The noises were wet and sloppy, punctuated by sharp hums as you tried to do well, to do what he wanted, to keep going -- but Maker, it hurt. Your attention was fixated completely on pleasing him, forgetting entirely about your own climbing heat, just trying not to clench your throat or forget to breathe through your nose. Then you dared it, reaching up and grabbing his balls, massaging them in your palm gently as he pushed into you. "Ahh- oh, fuck-- I'm going to cum. Do you want me to--"

You managed the smallest nod, squeezing him tighter as his thrusts rocked you, shattering almost all your resolve as you gagged. Ropes of cum splattered in the back of your throat, your lips suctioning to him as he stuttered to a halt, palm on the back of your head. His skin was like velvet on your tongue, slightly salty, but smooth and soft. Lavishing the last drops from his cock like precious water from the desert. In fact, it was more precious than water, more rare.

"Mesh'la... ohh," he keened softly, his hand spreading over your hair, petting you, brushing the curls from your face - which was wet with spilled tears, saliva, and a little cum. Releasing him from your sweet mouth, he brushed the white droplets from the corner of your lips, which you sucked off after it being offered. "W-what did I do?"

You tilted your head in confusion.

"What did I do to deserve you?"

You tried to talk, but your voice crackled in the back of your throat, so hoarse and quiet that you simply shut your mouth and blinked. Oh fuck. Had he broken your vocal chords? Panic began to seize you and you clutched his leg and offered a very broken, "UhhhmmMm."

He bent down, cupping your face, holding it between his palms as he took a good look at you. "I was a little too rough, wasn't I?"

"S'okay," fuck that hurt. Hurt to talk. Least you still had a voice.

"What do you want? Do you want me to--" His helmet was so close, almost brushing your nose as he looked at you. For a brief moment, you felt as if you were gazing into his eyes. What color were they? Brown? Green? Hazel? Maybe blue?

You shook your head and gave him a weary smile. That had literally taken everything out of you and you just wanted a cold glass of water and to curl up in bed. "Water. Sleep?..." you had to swallow again, struggling to get the words out. "W-with you?"

"Just... that?"

Oh no, had you chosen wrong? Did he really want to play with you? Honestly, you were good. Just making him finish had been enough for you. Your legs and throat ached, it had been a long day. You offered a dejected nod. No one ever really cuddled with you and you assumed that he'd be warm, comfortable, and feel like a blanket of protection. You wanted to feel that, even if only just once. Having sex wasn't as important as this to you. Sure, sex with him would probably be amazing, but you didn't want to overexert him because you were being greedy. Despite getting it infrequently, you'd never gotten a good cuddle. Not since you were a little girl and curled up in your parents' arms.

"Ok, ok, mesh'la," he agreed, smoothing your hair again before pushing his helmet to your brow. The gesture lit your cheeks up and felt... strangely intimate. Cool beskar kissing your sweating skin, chasing away the sweltering blush and just a thin layer between you and the Mandalorian. It felt like a kiss, but it wasn't. So gentle and tender that you let it linger and closed your eyes. "C'mon, it's been a long day," he muttered, gripping you beneath your elbow and guiding you to your feet. Your bed was just a few paces away and you were already dressed for it.

Who would have thought that a Mandalorian could be this... kind? From all the stories you'd heard, you had half-expected him to be a broody tin can that barely offered you the time of day. But there was a man underneath, a man who had desires, who had feelings, and who could be delicate. He wasn't all blasterfire, beskar, and war -- he was still a man.

He put you into bed, leaving the room for a moment to get a glass of water. You smiled at his return, accepting the offered water, and gulping it down. Your throat ailed and your jaw was already beginning to groan in protest. But the water helped. Putting it down on the nightstand, the Mandalorian removed his boots and climbed into bed with you, just trousers and an undershirt. Offering an open arm, his impressive bicep being revealed from beneath the short sleeve of his shirt.

You snuggled forward, heart pounding solidly in your ears as you tucked into his side. Maker, you loved this, the way his arm coiled around you, planting against the small of your back before tugging you in tightly. It wasn't as if you didn't feel safe in your home, you always did, but this was different. You trembled slightly because you'd yearned for this proximity, not just a rush of passion, but what came after and the security of him. From the strength of his muscles, to heat of his skin to yours, and the smell of him so close. This is what had been missing. The last piece to the puzzle that was home, the rut in your belly and soul curling pleasantly as you melted into him. Please never end. But you knew morning would come and one day he'd have to leave like everyone else. And you knew that day would be soul shattering. Because once again, you'd be alone.

#paz vizla x you #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #paz vizsla smut #smut with plot #smut with feelings #star-burned

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