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ahungeringknife · 7 months

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365: May 1-2

Malik collided with someone in the hall so hard if they weren't six inches shorter than him he would have fallen over. Instead the boy not looking where he was going fell onto his ass. "Watch where you're fucking goi- oh, Kadar," Malik looked down at his little brother sprawled on the floor all heat seeping out of his voice in an instant.

"Little kids aren't allowed in this part of the fortress," Malik's friend Jummal said. Malik rolled his eyes. That wasn't true but Jummal was fucking annoying.

Kadar grunted as he picked himself and dusted off his down gray tunic. "I'm fine," he chirped, voice still high.

"What are you doing here?" Malik asked, just barely refraining from folding his arms. "You shouldn't be down here." The lower dungeons weren't forbidden or anything but it really wasn't a place for a thirteen year old. Malik was down here with Jummal for some more... intense training for the older boys. Stuff to toughen your stomach. At least they'd run into him, literally, near the stairs.

"I know. But I wanted to show you something," and Malik nearly popped a blood vessel when his brother started trying to take off his pants.

"NOPE," and he grabbed his brother by the scruff of his neck and dragged him out of the dungeon. Jammal laughed after him. "Shut up Jummal," Malik snapped over his shoulder.

"It's not anything weird," Kadar complained.

"Yeah okay ya freaks," Jummal called.

Malik still had a knife on him and at the top of stairs he grabbed one and threw it down towards Jummal who even laughing dodged out of the way. "My mark just came in. It's not weird," Kadar stuck his tongue out at Jummal.

"Keep walking," Malik growled and shoved Kadar away from the dungeon.

"See you at dinner, Mal," Jummal called after him, still snickering.

"Can you not embarrass me in front of my friends for five fucking seconds?" Malik asked Kadar sharply once they were around the corner. Malik loved his little brother but he was so annoying sometimes and there was nothing like having a little brother doing something embarrassing in front of your friends to make you lose all credibility you had.

"Sorry," Kadar said sheepishly looking up at Malik under his lashes with his big blue puppy dog eyes.

Malik sighed and rolled his eyes. But Allah he was such a sucker and couldn't stay mad at him forever. "Okay, lets see it," he said knowing this would get Kadar to not bother him about it again.

Kadar perked up and thankfully didn't take his pants off completely just enough to pull down the side to show his pale thigh. "See, see," he said excitedly. Soul marks came in when people hit puberty and their bodies started to change. They were often cryptic imagery that depicted one's soul mate. Kadar's was as vague and cryptic as any Malik had seen being black and sort of generically pretty wild flowers with a piece of intricate basket weaving flowing through it. If and when he found his match the mark would burst into color but for now it was all black and gray tones. "I woke up and there it was. I'm a man now," he said.

Malik scoffed. "I'd say you're not," he said.

"I am so," Kadar pulled his pants back up properly.

"Once your voice doesn't sound like this," Malik pitched his voice way up, higher than Kadar's childish voice, it cracked a little, "then maybe." Kadar laughed at Malik's imitation. "You got a long way to go," he dropped down to his normal pitch and ruffled his brother's hair. "Don't be in such a rush."

Kadar pouted at him. "I guess. You ever going to show me yours?" he asked.

"Nah, it's stupid," Malik said and started propelling Kadar towards the dining hall for dinner. Malik didn't like showing his. It was big though, took up his entire left flank. Sometimes when he got especially sweaty you could see the dark mark through his shirt.

"Aww, don't say that. I bet it's really pretty and that's why you don't like it," Kadar teased him, sticking his tongue out at him. "My brother's got tulips all over him doesn't he."

Malik rolled his eyes at Kadar practically dancing around in front of him. "As if," he said. But there were some tulips. Red like fresh blood.

"Then it's absolutely some cute little animals," Kadar snickered. "Like a bunny or little fawns," Kadar continued as they entered the dining hall. "Or a sweet little kitten-

"Yeah yeah shut up," Malik shoved him down onto the bench at the table. Kadar giggled.

"So what's the damage?" Jummal asked across from Malik.

"Wildflowers and baskets. He's going to find a nice boring girl-

"Hey! She won't be boring. She's going to be so cool and interesting. Just you wait," Kadar insisted. Then he scowled at Jummal. "What's yours anyway?"

"Some bread," Jummal only smiled when he talked about it and he did now. "I love bread."

"I swear your soul mate is just going to be the next loaf for dinner," Malik groused, making Jummal laugh.

Kadar turned to his other side, "What about you?" he asked a boy between his and Malik's age. Malik was helping himself to dinner, using a fresh pita to shovel meat and pilaf into his mouth.

"It's a dove," he said, also beaming. Kadar asked a few of the others at the table while Malik ate. The kid barely even noticed dinner or that Malik was putting food on his plate.

"What are you guys talking about?" and Malik only looked when Altair came and sat on his other side, their thighs briefly brushing together as he took a seat on the bench.

Malik swallowed hard to say, "Kadar's soul mark came in."

"Ah," and that was all Altair said, reaching across the table for things to stuff into an opened pita to make a kebab: lamb, vegetables and a bright red oil sauce Malik knew was hot enough to burn his mouth.

"What about you, Altair?" Kadar asked.

"Hmm?" Altair had already forgotten (or more like didn't care) what Kadar had been talking about.

"What's your mark?"

"A princess stabbing a dragon in the mouth," Altair said.

"Bullshit," Jummal rolled his eyes. "You told me last year it was a pigeon."

"He did? He told me it was a bunch of saffron flowers." Malik kept his eyes down at his food while several of their friends all said what Altair had told them what his mark was and they were all contradictory.

"So what is it?" Kadar asked once they'd settled down. Altair had his mouth full of kebab and just shrugged. "No fair," Kadar complained.

"Not for you, kid," was all Altair said.

"Lame," Kadar insisted.

"Yeah sure. Now eat your dinner or your balls are never going to drop and you'll be a scrawny shit forever," Malik said and everyone around him laughed to Kadar's squawk of outrage.

Malik looked himself in the mirror and brought the knife up to his face. He always pulled a face while shaving and tonight was no different. The shiny copper mirror was smooth enough to not completely distort his face. Only years of training stopped him from jumping when a pair of hands slid against his naked sides and around his chest. "Want some help?" Altair asked, voice soft, near his ear.

"It's just a touch up, I'm fine," Malik said but had taken Altair up on the offer before when he'd let it get a bit longer. He didn't really trust anyone else but Altair with a knife that close to his throat.

"Mmm," was all Altair said and his thumb gently stroked one of the red tulips that were part of Malik's mark.

"Almost believed the princess and dragon one at dinner," Malik said as he scraped the knife against his jaw.

Altair made a noise of amusement against his naked shoulder. "It's a good one. Some people even believe it," Altair said. Malik's skin twitched as Altair traced the insane depiction of Baʿal Šāmīn on his flank. Malik knew every line and curve of his mark and he knew Altair did too. Malik had read just about half the fortress' library looking for reference for what the fuck had appeared on his body years ago. Baʿal Šāmīn was an old god, maybe some bedouins still worshiped him?, and his domain was the sky. He was wrapped in white linens and armor seated on the ground with a sword across his lap and holding out a hand. His sword had the pommel of an eagle's head, his armor styled from normal overlapping mail almost to that of feathers, white, tawny, and a dull gray red. Red tulips rained down from his outstretched left hand like pouring blood. When he'd first seen Baʿal Šāmīn he'd been a stranger but since it'd come into color it wore Altair's face. As a young teen he'd been beyond confused by this man on his flank. But he'd gotten over it. Because it was such a wild mark and also in color he didn't show it to people. He'd been so mad when it'd first come into color too.

"Next time you should say it's just a river of blood," Malik said with a grin and Altair snorted into his shoulder. He paused to see if Altair would jostle him.

"That's just as believable," Altair said still lightly running his fingers over Baʿal Šāmīn and his red tulips. "Should Kadar be as worried as you were?"

"No unlike me Kadar's sane and clearly likes women," Malik said as he finished his touch up. He was trying to grow out the beard a bit but it just seemed a fool's errand. At least he could grow facial hair. Half of the boys in their training year were still peach faced babies; Altair being one of them.

"Ah. Too bad for him," Altair shrugged and the hair on the back of Malik's neck stood on end when Altair nuzzled him there.

Malik took a damp cloth and wiped the soap residue off his cheeks and neck. "Okay. I'm done. I can see you're being needy."

"Me? No. Never," Altair said with a voice that anyone else would clock as resentment but Malik heard as sarcasm.

Malik put the mirror back into his bag of shaving gear and cleaned the knife, stowing that away as well. Then Malik lightly pushed Altair's hands off him so he could moved around. Altair was his shadow as he went and sat on his bed, grabbing his shirt he's thrown there to pull on. "Hey now," Malik said when Altair grabbed his hands before he could put it on his shirt.

"You look better like this," Altair said and sat across his lap.

"Don't flatter me," Malik said.

"That's basically my job. So I will," Altair's mouth curled into a smirk. "Not like you're going to have a wife for that," and he pushed Malik down onto the bed, still holding his wrists.

"Gross," Malik said and that made him smile while Altair chuckled. Altair leaned down and kissed him and that was nice. It'd been a not so great day conditioning not to throw up around gore and death down in the dungeons but kissing his soul mate made it better.

Malik yanked one of his hands free to undo the belt around Altair's waist. Altair helped him pull the shirt out of his pants, his breath hot against Malik's face, and Malik put his hand up Altair's shirt. He didn't have to see Altair's mark to know exactly where it was and what it looked like. It was simply a sword that ran all the way down his chest, the point ending just above his groin, the hand guard fanning out under his chest and a intricate pommel in the shape of an eagle's head. It looked just like the sword Baʿal Šāmīn held in his own hand on Malik's flank. Altair never wore low collared shirts but if he did you could see the handle of the sword sticking out of his sternum, nesting against his collar bone.

Malik drew his hand up the length of Altair's mark and the other boy groaned softly against Malik's mouth when Malik fit his hand around Altair's neck like he was grasping the hilt of the sword. Far more gently than he ever would normally. His hand lingered there while his kissed Altair's warm mouth before sliding off his neck and back down his chest. Altair's breath was ragged by the time he pulled his hand out of his shirt, barely still kissing him.

"You're such a freak, Altair," Malik teased him.

"Shut the fuck up," Altair gasped and Malik snickered. "You're the one who literally has my face on your mark." That made Malik laugh louder. Yeah. That was true. It was pretty fucking weird.

"Yeah because that does nothing for your ego at all," Malik smirked.

"Better than you getting off to the fact that your last name is literally on my entire chest, freak," he said it right back and stuck out his tongue briefly.

"Keep it up and it'll be the only part of me on your chest tonight," and Altair shoved his hand over Malik's mouth, absolutely red faced. Malik just grinned against his palm. Sucker. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that Altair was hard as a fucking rock sitting on him after putting his hand around his neck.

"You are such a shit," Altair hissed, face still burning. Malik thought it was cute how flustered he got. Malik said something against his palm but it came out as just noise. "Sorry what was that?" Altair asked, not moving his hand. Malik said it again. "Sorry I can't hear you when your mouth is full." Malik just rolled his eyes.

Altair removed his hand a moment later. "I said 'yeah but you love that I'm a shit'," Malik said smugly.

It didn't linger long at the soft look Altair gave him. "Yeah. I guess so," he said quietly and leaned down, kissing Malik again, this time far more gently and it gave Malik goosebumps. "I do love you," Altair said as a secret against his lips. Like every time Altair said it a thrill went down Malik's spine. It was pretty exciting after all, finding your soul mate so young; even if you were both shitty teenagers. And sometimes Malik just wanted to kill him but just because it was meant to be didn't mean you didn't still have to try for it and Altair could be so fucking annoying. Their marks had almost broken after they'd become colored, both pissed off at who'd colored their marks.

But that was years ago. They'd figured it out. They'd figured... this out. And Malik wouldn't want it any other way really.

#365 #writeblr #writblr #fanfiction #Assassin's Creed #Altmal #altair #altair ibn la'ahad #malik al sayf #Malik #soul mates #secret relationship

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ridiasfangirlings · 8 months

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Misaki got cursed to turn into a dog who can't talk like a human. The only way to break it is for someone to recognize him as a human and specifically realize his real identity. If the spell isn't broken after 24 hours, he turns into a real dog. He tries going to Homra cause his clan would know it's him, right? Anna wasn't there, unfortunately so no one else did. He knew Anna would know so he searches for her and instead crosses paths with Fushimi...

At least Fushimi doesn’t have to kiss him, I guess XD Imagine Yata gets transformed into a little red chihuahua by some Strain (The Little Mermaid Strain, who transforms you and takes your voice and the curse can only be broken by someone realizing who you are). Yata’s freaking out that he’s been turned into a dog, imagine him running around yapping and people keep yelling at him to go away. He decides okay, be cool, it’s fine, he’ll just go to Bar Homra and Anna can tell everyone who he is. He manages to get to the Bar without getting run over by a car and imagine him just prancing in, Kusanagi looks up as the bell above the door rings.

Yata’s already looking around for Anna when he suddenly gets picked up by the scruff of the neck and finds himself face to face with Mikoto. Yata’s tail immediately starts wagging so fast it’s just a blur, as he’s like ‘Mikoto-san will definitely know me, even like this!’. Yata’s heart is immediately broken as Mikoto asks whose mutt this is. Totsuka chides Mikoto lightly to put the dog down, King you don’t hold adult dogs that way. Kusanagi thinks the dog must have come in off the street and Totsuka says it’s too bad Anna isn’t here right now, she would have liked to see the dog. Kusanagi says to take the dog outside as Yata’s just heartbroken, internally crying because he’s gonna be a dog forever.

He’s dragging himself along the road outside of the bar trying to figure out what to do when he bumps into something. Yata looks up as he hears a tongue click and there’s Fushimi looking down at him all ugh, a stupid stray mutt. Yata growls at him all you stupid traitor get out of my way, Fushimi makes a shooing motion with his hand as he tells Yata to beat it. Yata huffs all I don’t take orders from a traitor but then it dawns on him that Saruhiko should recognize him right. He starts barking and like grabs onto Fushimi’s coat, pulling on it. The rest of the S4 alphabet squad are watching this like aw he likes you Fushimi-san, Fushimi pulls a knife as he’s like go away stupid dog. Yata’s determined though, imagine Fushimi even throws a knife and Yata catches it perfectly in his mouth.

The squad are kinda impressed, like maybe this dog is meant for Fushimi. Fushimi snaps at them to get back to work as he tries to take the knife back but Yata’s all smug like ha you can’t catch me, you don’t get this back until you recognize me. The S4 boys go back to their work as Fushimi goes after the dog on his own. Fushimi grumbles that he doesn’t have time for this and maybe he’s about to just let the stupid dog have the knife when suddenly the Strain he was hunting appears. Fushimi grins and ignores Yata as he goes after the Strain, Yata’s like wait Saruhiko this guy looks dangerous you shouldn’t do this alone. He’s looking around for Fushimi’s subordinates but no one’s nearby, Yata decides okay just this once. The Strain has like the ability to make duplicates of himself and so Fushimi’s being outnumbered, that’s when Yata uses his nose to sniff out the real Strain and bites them on the ankle. Fushimi hears the Strain yell and pins the Strain down with his knives, causing all the duplicates to disappear.

Fushimi gives this heavy sigh and sits down, tired out and annoyed. Yata walks over and drops the knife at his feet, Fushimi glares at him like I’m not going to thank you. Yata looks at him, unaware that his tail is wagging hopefully. Fushimi sighs and puts a hand down for Yata to sniff but instead imagine Yata raises a paw and kinda bumps it against Fushimi’s knuckles instead. Fushimi looks at him curiously and then murmurs ‘Misaki…?’. There’s a flash of light and now Yata’s just sitting there in front of Fushimi, both of them looking kinda bewildered. Yata realizes he’s back to normal and cheers, behind him he hears this ‘heh’ and Fushimi grins as he’s like you really are a stupid chihuahua huh Misaki. Yata’s like what did you say and Fushimi says he doesn’t know what happened but if he’d known he was helping Yata he wouldn’t have done it. Yata’s like yeah well I wouldn’t have asked for your help either. He pauses, about to go and suddenly all awkward, and then Yata mumbles ‘but still…thanks, Saruhiko.’

#sarumi #Talking K #it's the like little mermaid but with dogs #imagine tiny Yata yapping at everyone #mentally he has a whole angry monologue going #he thinks he must be some big scary dog #but he's the smallest yappiest dog #Fushimi could dropkick him if he wanted to

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signs-of-the-moon · 2 months

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Moon High: Chapter 19

Silver claws glinted in strange dark light as they came swiping down to strike their target. Quick as an eel, Hazepaw moved aside to dodge the oncoming attack. He panted, narrowing his eyes at his opponent as she charged towards him again, a vicious growl rising from her throat. Though she'd missed this time, Sea Breeze was determined to pounce on the young tom. Hazepaw was doing well holding his own against her, but internally he had to admit he was struggling.

Over the past half moon, Hazepaw had come to know Sea Breeze as wise beyond the seasons--his and even her own. But he'd also come to know her as vicious, and ruthless when she wanted to be. Her bite was always sharp, despite this being practice. And her claws pierced deeply, despite her assurance to not cause him great harm. The ancient spirit could pick up on his moves almost as soon as Hazepaw planned them. She always gave him a good thrashing. It was far different than any training Hazepaw received from Sandybreeze and the other mentors while he was awake. But he was enjoying it. Practice had never been so exhilarating before. It would be more enjoyable, however, if Hazepaw were able to get a hit on Sea Breeze in return, instead of getting his tail handed to him. But Hazepaw was stubborn and determined, meeting Sea Breeze's pounce with a slash of claws. Sea Breeze jerked her head away in time to evade the blow, still managing to land perfectly on top of the fluffy white tom. She used her size to her advantage, forcing Hazepaw's legs to start buckling under her strength.

You have to toughen up to the sensation of pain, Sea Breeze had told him at the start of their lessons together. Pain is only weakness leaving the body, Hazepaw reminded himself as he grit his teeth over the sensation of Sea Breeze biting into his scruff. A strong body makes a strong mind, he shook himself, trying to throw the ancient cat off his back. And a strong mind leads a strong clan. But Sea Breeze took her paw, slamming it against Hazepaw's scull. She forced his head into the dark soil below them, pushing him into surrender. After letting out a pained hack, Sea Breeze relented, allowing her apprentice to be set free.

"You're getting better," she started, lifting a paw to clean her claws, "but you're still too weak. And on top of that, you're distracted."

"Distracted? I'm only focused on the lessons you've given!" Hazepaw bristled.

Sea Breeze gave him a look with her one visible eye. "Trouble, you've got a lot more on your mind than just the lessons I've been givin' you."

Hazepaw felt heat rise to his pelt, but he refused to admit Sea Breeze might be onto something. Though he tried his best to only think about his training while here in Sea Breeze's forest, he couldn't help but let his mind wander. Most often it traveled to thoughts of Moonpaw. Hazepaw had been visiting her a lot lately; every other night in fact. Tonight they were supposed to see each other at the Gathering. And though Hazepaw had been invited to go, he declined so he could stay home and train with Sea Breeze during sleep. She'd been accusing him of slacking on training, just as she accused him of distraction now. And though she was right, Hazepaw didn't dare give her the satisfaction of knowing.

"It's that Treeclan apprentice again, right?" Sea Breeze guessed.

Hazepaw flinched. "So? Am I not allowed to think about my friends anymore? Didn't realize when I agreed to train with you that I was agreeing to having you act like my mother."

Sea Breeze sighed, shaking her head slowly. Was it in disappointment? Hazepaw wondered. "You really need to stop seeing Moonpaw. She's an outsider, and you need to keep your mind centered on things going on within your own clan."

"Being with an outsider isn't seen as a bad thing in Oceanclan, though. In fact we like outsiders!" It almost pained Hazepaw to speak those words; the moons of lessons from his mother about the inferiority of outsiders still rung clear in his mind. But his heart told him that maybe those teachings were wrong. At least, enough to justify spending time with Moonpaw.

"Believe me, boy, I'm fully aware of what Oceanclan likes. Doesn't mean it's going to do you any favors, sneakin' around behind your clan's back. You're trying to make yourself into the best candidate for deputy, aren't you? Deputies focus on what's best for their clan. And what Oceanclan needs is strong warrior blood. Why don't you try chasing the tail of a cat like Urchinpaw?"

"That ugly halfclan rat?" Hazepaw spit, wrinkling his nose. "I'd rather choke on seaweed!"

"So I take it you haven't got a thing for halfclanners?" Sea Breeze's voice was almost sarcastic.

Hazepaw forced his fur to lay flat."It's not about that. I just don't like toms. Especially not Urchinpaw!"

The old spirit twitched her whiskers. "Wow what a great way to talk about your friend!" She laughed.

"I-I can still be his friend and think he's uglier than a stonefish! A cat's looks have nothing to do with the friends they keep."

"But the friends you keep say a lot about yourself. If you surround yourself with ugly cats, what's that say about you?"

Hazepaw growled. "You callin' me ugly, you old sea hag?"

"No I just like to rile you up." Sea Breeze lifted her paw, rubbing it against the top of his head roughly, yet playful. "But back to my point.

Tensions between Oceanclan and Treeclan are high right now. You could bring worse danger to the clan if you're not careful. You need to let Moonpaw go. Why not start padding after a cat within your own borders? Stonepaw and Whisperpaw have connections to Wavestar. And Otterpaw's proven herself to be strong, formidable, and highly loyal to the clan, despite her origins."

Hazepaw parted his jaws to counter, but shut them again just as quick. Sea Breeze did have a point. With some cat like Stonepaw, Otterpaw, or Whisperpaw at his side, he'd appear as a better candidate for deputy. Being with an Oceanclan cat would prove his loyalty and dedication, especially if he helped provide the clan with kits. But Hazepaw didn't want those things, at least not now. Not with them. Heat rose again in Hazepaw's fur as his mind briefly entertained the thought of having something like that with Moonpaw. Then, Sea Breeze cut in;

"You seein' reason now?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah I'll... think about it in the morning, maybe," he murmured then shook his head. "Do we have to talk about my potential love life for the rest of tonight, or are we going to get back to sparring?"

With a smirk, Sea Breeze responded; "Sure, Trouble, let's get back to it." Then she grabbed him by the scruff again and threw him halfway across their training clearing. Hazepaw yowled in surprise, twisting to land on his paws. No fair! He wanted to exclaim, but kept silent as he lowered his head and rushed back to his opponent. Sea Breeze was ready and waiting for him, standing up onto her hind legs to catch him when Hazepaw came back into range. Hazepaw leaped up to match her, slamming his body into hers to knock the ancient spirit down. The two wrestled aggressively on the foggy floor, fur flying everywhere. Hazepaw flinched as he felt Sea Breeze's teeth sink deep into his front forepaw, preventing him from swiping at her. In an effort to free himself, the white tom instead used his back paws to claw Sea Breeze's underside. The silver tabby she-cat growled and bit harder into her opponent, blood seeping from her mouth. Hazepaw gasped at the pain and yowled out, shutting his eyes tightly. With a good kick of his rear paw, he managed to hit Sea Breeze right in her ribcage.

Sea Breeze wheezed, the wind knocked out of her. Her jaws parted for air, relinquishing Hazepaw from her grip. Hazepaw worked fast to clean his bloodied forepaw, before striking Sea Breeze again. This time he managed a good hit, smacking her right in the muzzle. Blood seeped from the scratches and Hazepaw admired his handiwork. An excited smile pulled at his lips, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He threw himself upon Sea Breeze, snatching her up by her scruff

Sea Breeze suddenly went limp below him. Just as Hazepaw moved to release her, though, she tensed up again. With a hard roll, the ancient spirit managed to throw Hazepaw onto the soil again, crushing him. She pressed one paw into his cheek, another to his shoulder. One back paw held down his belly, and the last kept his hind legs in place. With exposed claws, the rival she-cat dug into her catch, causing Hazepaw to cry out in pain.

"If you are going to defeat an enemy," she growled, "make sure they stay down." Sea Breeze pressed her claws harder into the fluffy tom beneath her.

Tears welled in the corner of Hazepaw's eyes, the stinging pain of Sea Breeze's dirty claws too much to bear.

"Let me go!" He yowled. "I get it! I get it! I won't be so soft anymore!" He promised, trying so hard to wiggle free. But it was no use. Sea Breeze's hold was too great. Even when Hazepaw let his body go limp she did not let go. Instead, she scratched his shoulder, taking pleasure in her dream apprentice's pain. Hazepaw cried out again, thrashing himself harder than before.

"Let go! Let me go!!" He pleaded, squeezing shut his eyes.

Then he felt himself being shaken violently, as if Sea Breeze were desperate to rile him up some more.

"I said stop!" Hazepaw yowled once more. But when he moved, he was astonished to feel the weight on his back had suddenly disappeared.

"Hazepaw!"

A familiar voice called.

Hazepaw's eyes shot open, revealing not the foggy dream forest surrounding him, but the walls of the apprentice's den. Blinking to compose himself, Hazepaw gave a cautious glance around. Stonepaw was standing in front of him; her expression annoyed but relieved. Hazepaw quickly sat up as he noticed her, a twinge of pain shooting throughout his body as he moved. No way... Hazepaw turned to examine himself. His blood ran cold as he realized the gashes left by Sea Breeze had followed him into reality. He worked quickly to clean the cuts, hoping the she-cat beside him wouldn't notice and make a comment.

"'Bout time you got up!" Stonepaw snorted. Her fur relaxed as Hazepaw groomed himself. She seemed oblivious to the injuries he'd sustained. "You probably scared off all the prey in the forest with that racket you were making."

"Does it really matter?" Urchinpaw grunted from across the den as he stretched. Then he clawed his nest to roll it up. The rustling of moss and leaves caught Hazepaw's attention. "We're leaving today anyways."

"We are?" Hazepaw was confused. He realized his denmates were busy pulling up their nests. A couple of them were destroying the structure of the den. But why?

"If you'd been awake earlier, you would have been present for Wavestar's meeting to know that." Otterpaw chimed in. She thrashed her tail impatiently. Then she turned and took hold of her nest and Whisperpaw's, dragging them outside without another word. A sense of longing built up Hazepaw's chest.

It'd been a while since the two of them had spoken properly. After the training incident with Whisperpaw, Otterpaw had been short with Hazepaw. She'd go out of her way to ignore him. And when she did say something, it was critical. Hazepaw had been wanting to apologize and make up for days now. But there never seemed to be an opportunity to do so. Perhaps if Urchinpaw was right, and the clan was moving back to the Twoleg Settlement Bridge, he could use the journey as a way to get close enough to Otterpaw to converse.

"There's a few tasks that need to be done," Urchinpaw informed as he padded over to the fluffy white tom. "Then we can finally go home."

Home. Hazepaw felt excitement bubble in his belly at the thought of living on the beach again. He missed the rhythmic crash of the ocean's waves, and the shrieks of seagulls in the sky overhead. Birdsong could never compare to the melody of the sea.

Hazepaw quickly rose to his paws, clawing up his leaf and moss mixed nest to be discarded outside. He followed the tail of Urchinpaw, getting pushed aside by the impatient Currentpaw as he neared the exit. Hazepaw growled at him as he passed, his sister Stonepaw at his heels. The she-cat took a moment to turn and stick her tongue out at Hazepaw before slipping into the clearing. Urchinpaw shook his head, running his tail along Hazepaw's back to calm him. Hazepaw heaved an indignant huff before walking with Urchinpaw outside.

The clearing was in ruin. Dens were being torn apart and materials Oceanclan couldn't take with them were being discarded. All the hard work they'd put into the camp was being undone in a matter of moments. It was almost frustrating to witness. But Hazepaw tried to understand why it had to be this way. Oceanclan couldn't leave the temporary camp as it was. Rogues might move in, and foxes may be tempted to take up residence here to birth cubs. Treeclan might even try to claim the area and use it as a secondary base. But the land was still Oceanclan's, even though it was in part of the forest. Even if they wouldn't live here anymore this was still Oceanclan's hunting grounds; their territory. Hazepaw flexed his claws at the thought of having to protect this land that Oceanclan had slept on for the past couple of moons.

"C'mon, 'Paws, quit daydreamin'. Go scatter yer nests aroun' somewhere outside, then come back for yer next assignment," Silverdrop instructed, pulling Hazepaw from his thoughts. Urchinpaw motioned to him to follow, and the pair set out to complete their tasks.

The rest of the morning was spent deconstructing dens. Urchinpaw had gone off to take care of the nursery. Meanwhile, Hazepaw helped fill in Wavestar's den with earth; enough to keep it from being obvious that a hole lay under the soil. Sandclaw was with him, doing his part to bury the old badger set.

Otterpaw was nearby working with Whisperpaw. The pair were helping Bluesky bundle up herbs. Otterpaw looked grossed out by the task, her tongue poking out slightly. The scent of the watermint she was working with must have been too strong. Hazepaw chuckled at her reaction, watching the molly long enough for Whisperpaw to catch on. Whisperpaw bumped her shoulder against Otterpaw's, prompting the brown she-cat to regain her senses and straighten her expression.

Bluesky shook his head with amusement as he observed them. Then he was summoned away by Curlear, who was experiencing a coughing fit. The old hairless medicine cat had been sick for a while. His condition only seemed to worsen by the day. There was nothing that could be done about it, Hazepaw remembered Bluesky stating. Soon, Curlear would be called to join Starclan. But for now he was being cared for, as all elderly cats were. Though he wouldn't live long enough to experience retirement, Hazepaw was sure.

Across camp, Wavestar had perched himself on a low hanging tree branch. He yowled out, catching the attention of the entire clan. After scanning the clearing and ensuring everyone was present, the leader began to speak.

"Sun high approaches. It's about time we finally make our way back to the beach. Everyone grab whatever materials you can carry and start heading out!" He declared.

The clan immediately began to cheer, disbursing long enough to gather supplies. Then, one by one, each cat made their final exit from the temporary camp.

Wavestar led the way, with Bluesky and a limping Curlear right behind him. The elders left next. Dolphintail was guided by the flank of Precious; Oystersplash and Chloe following her tail. Sandybreeze brought up the rear of the group, ensuring the clan's oldest members travel safely. Hazepaw was sure she was being extra careful so a situation like what happened with Tunafin didn't reoccur. A shiver ran across him from nose to tail-tip at the thought. Hazepaw shook out his pelt to relieve himself of the sensation then followed after his mentor. Sharktooth sniffed at him as he passed, mentally marking Hazepaw as another clanmate accounted for. Pawsteps sounded softly from behind him a couple heartbeats later. Glancing over his shoulder to see who it was, Hazepaw was greeted by the presence of Otterpaw and Whisperpaw.

Whisperpaw was prancing at her friend's side, a happy little hop in each step. She hummed out a soft conversation, words muffled behind a bushel of herbs. Otterpaw giggled at the other molly, flicking an ear at her. Then, up ahead, Wavestar summoned his daughter to him. Whisperpaw excused herself and hurried away, leaving Otterpaw behind. This is my chance, Hazepaw realized. Purposely he slowed his pace until he fell back enough to walk in step with the brown she-cat. At first, she didn't seem to notice Hazepaw had done so intentionally. But when she realized he was padding perfectly in time with her, she grunted.

Hazepaw flashed a small smile at her, trying to break the ice with a kind gesture. Instead of reciprocating Otterpaw looked away indignitly, unaccepting of his silent greeting. Immediately Hazepaw's grin fell, replaced by an annoyed scowl. He resisted the urge to growl, becoming frustrated over his ignored efforts. It's not like he actually wanted to apologize. Even a half moon later, Hazepaw thought that his actions the day he helped train Whisperpaw were justified. It wasn't like he didn't regret it part of it, though. Hazepaw never meant to upset Whisperpaw. But his method of teaching worked, and he still held the belief that he was in the right.

However, Hazepaw knew if he were to say that, he would never regain Otterpaw's friendship. But he really wanted to. Hazepaw wasn't exactly sure why. It could be Sea Breeze's influence. Or perhaps it was the fact that getting along with Otterpaw felt rewarding compared to being rivals or enemies. He liked being a reason to make her smile instead of angry. So if he had to admit he was wrong to regain that, then so be it.

"Hey...Otterpaw?" He mewed apprehensivly. "Can we talk?" Otterpaw ignored him. Again, Hazepaw resisted the urge to growl. But he swallowed it back with a heavy sigh. "I know you probably hate me right now..." he started.

"Yeah, no kidding," Otterpaw gruffed.

"But I don't want you to," he continued, ignoring the she-cat's comment. "It's dumb that we haven't been talking, don't you think? You know I didn't mean any harm when we were training Whisperpaw together!"

Otterpaw's tail lashed, a clear sign of her irritation. Yet Hazepaw pressed on, determined to regain her favor.

"Look, what I'm trying to say is...I'm sorry. I really, truly didn't mean to upset her. Like you, I just want Whisperpaw to be the best warrior she can be. I...know I went about it the wrong way, though. And I promise to be better in the future. Can't we just go back to being friends now...please?"

Another few moments of silence past. The air was thick from the tension of the one sided conversation. Hazepaw felt like he could choke on it. He was sure if it were possible, Otterpaw would want him to. Then, at last, she spoke;

"...You really don't know when to give up, do you?"

Hazepaw flinched a little at her comment. He opened his mouth to defend himself, until Otterpaw interjected to continue speaking.

"In a way....I'm kind of glad you don't," she confessed. She lowered her head, almost bashfully. "It's been eating me up inside, not talking to you. And just when we started becoming true friends, too!...But I needed to teach you a lesson. I wanted you to realize the weight of your actions before deciding to speak with you again. You really hurt Whisperpaw's feelings, y'know. She's always looked up to you. And then you go and drag her around like a piece of prey!"

"I didn't realize..." Hazepaw started, before being interrupted again.

"You rarely do, until it's too late. But I hope this has taught you to be a bit more mindful of your actions, before you dig in your claws about being in the right." Then, Otterpaw lifted her muzzle to look at him. The light of sunhigh sparkled in her yellow eyes, making them appear to glow. Hazepaw almost felt breathless as he stared back into them. "I'm going to forgive you this time. But you have to sincerely apologize to Whisperpaw before we can be friends again."

"I...I will," he stammered. Then he gave a rough nod, before moving to press his side against hers. "Thank you."

Otterpaw in turn bumped him with her hip playfully. Hazepaw purred at her. The pair spent the rest of the journey walking in step together, talking and joking around as if they hadn't ever disagreed. It made Hazepaw heart feel warm.

At some point, his thoughts drifted to his conversation with Sea Breeze. Perhaps she had been onto something, when she suggested he try and get closer to Otterpaw. Hazepaw hadn't noticed how well they got along, even after going a while without interacting. Maybe it would be worth it to pursue her. Then, Hazepaw thoughts shifted abruptly to Moonpaw. A pang on yearning groaned in his heart when he remembered he wouldn't be near her territory anymore. Perhaps it was fate. Maybe Starclan was using the migration to the beach as a sign to let Moonpaw go. But how could he? They'd grown so close since they met. He looked forward to meeting with Moonpaw every other night. He loved soothing her, and talking for hours on end. She seemed to enjoy his company too. Moonpaw confided in him, and Hazepaw had promised to be there for her.

Yet, as the Forest Patch became nothing more than a green mirage in the distance, Hazepaw couldn't help but reconsider it. No, he finally decided as he heard Otterpaw snort over some stupid joke she'd cracked. I don't have to decide anything yet. I need to focus more on training. But, I can still have fun inbetween. Hazepaw smiled, satisfied with the choice he'd made. For now, he'd enjoy the company of his friends, and grow to become a cat Oceanclan could be proud of.

#warrior cats #warrior cats ocs #wcs #wcs ocs #signs of the moon #sotm #signs of the moon: moon high #moon high #chapt 19 #haze pov

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cleverrpgnamehere · 7 months

Text

a monument to all of our sins

Fandom: Worlds Beyond Number

Relationships: Ame & Suvi, Ame & Suvi & Eursulon, Suvi & Soft & Stone, Suvi & Steel

Story tags: Worlds Beyond Number Episode 14 SPOILERS, sponge baths, Suvi's relationship to magic, somatic spell mechanics and notations.

Content warnings: Brief mention of nudity within the context of bathing, implied mention of Soft and Stone being deceased.

A/N: Brennan's moment with the reflexive indicative got in my brain and wouldn't go away, so I had to write a fic about it. While I adore Eursulon, this fic doesn't feature much of him but instead focuses on Suvi's relationship with Ame and her relationship with magic.

I am also tagging @quiddie because even though it's not smut, I just needed Aabria to know I have Suvi brain rot now. Can also be read on AO3, but I posted this on mobile so I guess I'll call it the source?

Summary: Once on the airship, Suvi gives Ame a bath and talks with her parents.

---

Suvi looks at Ame, almost unnaturally still and quiet on the bed. She sees her, and sees Grandmother Wren like this, too, and shakes her head to remove the image from her mind. Ame is not dead. She won’t die, not if Suvi has anything to do with it.

Ame is filthy, and while Suvi could just Prestidigitation the dirt off of her, the thought makes her skin crawl. It’s fine in a pinch, but it’s not the most pleasant of feelings. Plus, she’s pretty sure that Ame would hate being cleaned by magic.

So, she orders supplies and receives them, and tells Eursulon to lift Ame. He does, and Suvi lays towels down before Eursulon lays Ame on top of them before he’s shooed out of the room by Suvi. She’ll take it from here.

She adds soap to a basin of warm water and rolls up her sleeves. Carefully, she undresses Ame, stripping her of her dirtied clothes, which she adds to a pile to be washed. She covers Ame again with a sheet, hoping to keep her as warm as possible throughout this whole thing. She dips a washcloth into the soapy water and starts on Ame’s face, gently moving the cloth in a circular motion. Ame smells like salt and sea and kudzu.

Suvi places the first washcloth in the soapy water again, then grabs a clean one and wets it in the plain water. She rinses Ame’s face, making sure to remove every trace of soap until only the fragrance remains. A quick dry with yet another towel and her face is done. And then Suvi moves to the neck, repeating the process of soapy gently scrubbing, then rinsing. Right arm, left arm, chest, legs–Suvi gets them all. She spares a moment to lament that there’s no way to wash Ame’s hair as she rolls her friend onto her side.

It takes a while, but eventually Ame is clean, washed of any trace of Port Talon and smelling faintly of lotus and sandalwood. Suvi dresses Ame in one of her own nightgowns, pulls the towels out from under her, and settles the blankets around her friend again. Something still stinks, and she knows what it is: the Fox.

Suvi grimaces as she picks him up by the scruff of his neck. He smells like fish guts and she can’t stand it anymore. She dunks his body into the soapy basin, taking up the cloth again to get his face and neck, which she won’t submerge. As Suvi scrubs, she can see the dirt leeching into the soapy water. He’ll be mad when he wakes up, but it will be worth it.

She makes sure to scrub every inch of him, too, before rinsing and drying him off. Suvi wishes Ame were here to cast Gust, but she figures getting the Fox dry is the most important bit, so she uses Prestidigitation to make sure she gets all the water off of his fur. She replaces him under Ame’s right hand, and takes hold of her left.

The feeling of uselessness slowly starts to creep back in now that her task is done. Suvi looks at her friend’s face as she bites her lip. She knows that Ame has been training for this sort of situation and is fighting as hard as she can. She just wishes that she could join Ame in battle, lend her some strength and additional power. Suvi thinks about the battle with the boat captain, how Ame nearly died, crumpling to the ground. Her mind easily supplies her with the image of Ame collapsing in Suvi’s room, convulsing and expelling black bile from her mouth.

She squeezes Ame’s hand. “I should have stopped you,” Suvi whispers. “I know I can’t stop witches or wild ones, but I should have tried, at least. I know Steel would have the resources to help in this situation. I should have made you wait to do it properly. And I’m so, so sorry Ame.” She feels the damn break, and the fear overtakes her. She sobs, her head falling to Ame’s chest, shaking so much she can’t feel Ame’s breathing. Suvi curls around Ame and cries herself out.

---

When Ame doesn’t need anything, Suvi spends her vigil on the bench under the huge window in her room. Eursulon sleeps on the floor by the hearth, where an arcane fire glows blue behind the grate and keeps the room at a comfortable temperature. Suvi spares a moment to adjust a blanket over her brother as he lightly snores. She spots a small rip in his shirt and Mends it without a thought.

When she sits, she pulls out the book she has from Morrow that used to belong to her parents. Holding it in her hands, gently turning the pages, Suvi is struck by the thought that her mother and father once held the book like she does now. Did Soft’s eyebrow furrow like hers as he worked on a complicated bit of spellcraft? Did Stone’s elegant fingers curl around the pages protectively, guarding the secrets within? Did her parents bend their heads close over this book, whispering secrets of magic like lovers’ poetry?

Suvi pauses for a moment, overwhelmed with her own imagination. She never truly knew her parents, her own memories of them hazy and disjointed. What she actually remembers is stories of memories about them, told to her mainly by Steel. Suvi can’t remember their faces, just their portraits. She’s not sure if she actually remembers dancing with her father, Soft sweeping her off of her feet and twirling her with a laugh. She likes to think that she can recall her mother’s voice telling her “Be strong, Suvi, for there will be worse trials than this” as they both stared at a windstorm that had scared her. But holding this book in her hands, knowing that her parents have done the exact same thing with the exact same object, feels like a tether through time.

Her fingers trace her father’s somatic notes, picturing him in her mind’s eye as he scribbles. There’s a low-level spell in the margins, scrawled hastily as an afterthought. The ambitransitive lexical, future inchoative, passive relative, reflexive indicative with null cleft–

“What?” Suvi whispers out loud. “That doesn’t make any–no, you, you need that. You have to–uh–”

She cuts herself off as she realizes she’s speaking aloud. But Soft is wrong , he has to be, the reflexive indicative is what makes the magic flow in the first place. Suvi decides to prove it, moving through the somatic components of the spell, and she realizes that he’s written down her mother’s Mending spell. The one with the small contraction that makes it a little quicker to cast, cutting out a motion to flow from one casting to the next as if rocking with the tide. How had she never noticed before that the one thing they cut out was the reflexive indicative?

“Oh,” she breathes. “Oh, you’re right. That makes–” Suvi cuts herself off, laughing a little.

“Suvi, who are you talking to?” Eursulon mumbles from the floor.

“My dad.” She doesn’t look away from that small, scribbled note, running her fingers over it again. Suvi understands it now, her mind working with breathtaking swiftness. If Mending doesn’t need a reflexive indicative to work, then what other spells will still work with it removed?

Suvi guesses that this is just the tip of the iceberg. Presumably, if the reflexive indicative is what makes the magic flow and it is unnecessary in a cantrip, she has to assume that all other cantrips don’t need it, either. Is it because they’re just that low-level? She’ll need to do experiments, for sure, but for now, Suvi considers the likely outcomes. One, cutting out the reflexive indicative will work on cantrips and no other spells. Two, cutting it out will work for cantrips and low-level spells, but will eventually hit a threshold where more energy is needed. Or three, cutting it out works for every spell, every time, and is always a stupid flourish at the end of a spell, functioning as a period in the somatic sentence. Four, every spell, every time doesn’t need it, and the reflexive indicative is–what?

If Mending doesn’t need it, why are most wizards in the Citadel taught that it does?

Who gains? she thinks urgently. Who gains what from this simple little note? Suvi bites her lip, hunching over the book. If the Citadel is lying about the function of the reflexive indicative, then they must gain something from it. What is most precious to the Citadel? Information. Information and raw power.

What if this note could be tracked? What if the Citadel could tell what spells were being used by every trained wizard on the planet? And what if those spells pulled some power the Citadel’s way? Suvi feels slightly dizzy at the prospect. Hundreds of thousands of wizards, casting what must be at least a million spells a day. At that scale, tracking everything would be a nightmare. The only reason to teach the reflexive indicative in every spell is if there’s that siphoning of power.

“Oh,” Suvi says again. Her world is tilting as she sits with the book. Why does the Citadel need that much power? Yes, there was a war going on, but the somatic components have been the same for generations, before any war, since humans discovered arcane magic. So what are they hiding?

There’s a knock at her door, and Steel’s voice, muffled through the wood, says, “Suvi? You awake?”

Belatedly, she realizes she’s been crying. She pulls out a handkerchief, wiping her eyes and nose as she answers. “I–uh, yeah, yes. I’m sorry,” Suvi replies, clutching the book to her chest. Her father’s note presses against her heart as she crosses the chamber and answers the door.

Steel’s eyes quickly take her in, assessing and appraising. She doesn’t say anything. She’s never said anything when Suvi has cried.

“We arrive at the Citadel within the hour,” Steel says. She rests a hand on the hilt of her sword, her mouth twisting into a small frown. “Uhm. We should talk.”

“Oh,” Suvi breathes, afraid for a moment that Steel can read her traitorous mind. But no, she needs a crystal ball to do that. “Oh. Yeah.”

She looks back into the room at Eursulon and Ame. Suvi has a sudden and clear fear grab her heart. Did she lead her brother and her friend straight into a trap? Or has she been the trap for the whole time she’s known them?

“It’s–It has been a long time coming, and there has never been what feels like the right moment, but the time has come to speak of Soft and Stone. Of the last night that you saw them. And I need to tell you about Yorrin.”

#worlds beyond number #worlds beyond number fic #suvirin kedberiket #eursulon #ame

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ejhess · 4 months

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Oct 25, 2023

i want i want i want

I want a make out session so long that by the end of it my lips are red and swollen from kissing down the scruff on his chin to his collarbones. I want love bites on my chest and our clothes to stay on. I want him to tell me that he loves me in a gentle whisper as he kisses my ear and laces his fingers between mine. I want to think that it’s love and it will last forever.

I am so in love with you.

I want him to be mine and there be no question whether or not it’s true. I want to be his and I want him to proclaim it as such—even if only for a year, I don’t care. I want to be owned. I want to be possessed. I want to be someone’s something even if it’s not for forever. I want there to be no confusion about whether he can properly be considered an ex-boyfriend or not.

A man that I dated or just a man that I went on a few dates with?

I want to be a pair, an item, or a packaged deal—as unhealthy as that sounds. I want to be his plus one to his best friend’s wedding. I want his friends to be my friends and I want my friends to be his friends. I want his friends to be friends with my friends and I want my friends to be friends with his friends. I want to be in pictures with him and be entangled so deeply into his life that no one would have ever thought that I wasn’t there since the day he was born.

I was wondering when you two were going to get here!

I want him to meet my family and when we break up I want them to ask what went wrong and for them to tell me that they didn’t like him anyway—even though it’s a lie. I want them to see that I’m finally happy with someone for the first time in a long time and then be heartbroken, themselves, when it doesn’t work out.

He wasn’t right for you anyway. You’ll find someone better…

I want us to plan a future together because, at the time, it will all seem that it will last forever. I want us to talk about kids and what kind of school we will send them to. I want us to lightly lay down a tablecloth for our future and begin picking out the place settings.

Your religion or mine? What side of the family will we spend Christmas with?

I want our breakup to be sudden and drastic. I want it to be a knife to both of our stomachs. I want to slowly bleed out with you. I want to go to bed one day completely in love with you and wake up the next day, still very much in love, but knowing that we won’t work, knowing that we are both slowly dragging a blade across each other's stomach and we won’t stop until we call it done.

I love you, I’m sorry.

I want to pass you on the street and for the invisible wound to pulse with the beating of my heart. I want my pulse to quicken as I notice that you cut your hair and shaved your beard and are holding that hand of someone new. I want to stop and ask you how you are—but I won’t and instead call my friends about you.

You’ll never guess who I saw in town today…

I want

love…

or a make out session. Either will do.

_______

Authors note: This was very very fun to write because it was just kind of like word vomit that I molded into a neat pile and then stuck a daisy in. I'm not sure if it's perfect or grammatically correct in parts, but I have to just publish it so I stop looking at it. If I stare at it anymore, I might ruin it by making a bunch of changes.

Also notice how in the first few paragraphs the narrator was using "him" but then switched to "you" in the later paragraphs... this was by accident. Complete accident because I am a shite writer sometimes and was typing as fast as my little fat fingers could. I was also three Coors Lights in. I decided to keep it because I thought that it added a nice touch. (A happy little drunk accident unlike when I text an ex boyfriend) The narrator starts by talking about this imaginary man, but then is eventually just talking about a very specific man.

How interesting. Quite scholarly. Tea and crumpets and fine literature. (This is all sarcasm. I just wrote this about some white dude who doesn't want to date me lol)

#relationship quotes #inspiring quotes #writing #love quotes #lovers #i love you #love poem #relatable quotes #short story #story

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outercrasis · 3 years

Text

Maybe It’s A Sign

Pairing: Modern!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 9.3k+

Warnings: alcohol, implied age difference, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, p-in-v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming

Summary: You and Mando have been driving across America together for months. You're happy to be with him but part of you longs for something more.

A/N: I don’t really know the time period for this, probably like anything pre-2010s. There’s no use of y/n and let me know if I missed a warning :)

Read it on AO3

The breeze from the open truck window is cool against your heated skin. It's your only relief as the sun beats down on you through the windshield, the busted A/C offering no help. You're headed down some freeway in the middle of nowhere America, riding shotgun in an old beat-up truck that's seen better days.

You've been keeping your eyes on the flat landscape surrounding you, watching as field after field passes you by. They really weren't joking when they'd named them the Great Plains. Music filters through the air, some classic rock song you've heard a thousand times before. You still hum along mindlessly, enjoying the small amount of entertainment.

Bored of the vast sameness outside your window, your eyes drift over to your companion, driver, and owner of the truck. Mando. You study him, finding him far more interesting than the fields outside.

His worn baseball cap has been pushed up, presumably from scratching his scalp underneath and not bothering to fix it. Soft brown curls peek out around the edges of the hat. He has his sunglasses on and his eyes are firmly fixed on the road ahead, as they should be. The patchy scruff along his jawline has grown out a bit from your recent days on the road and you can see a few gray hairs mixed in with his darker natural color.

He shrugged off his jacket earlier in the day, leaving him in a worn gray t-shirt that hugged his lean muscles all just right. His faded blue jeans are on and you wonder how he can stand to wear them in the oppressive summer heat. You gave into shorts days ago.

All in all, he was a far better sight than anything outside the truck. As you look him over, you muse how everything he owns seems to be worn in. His rusty truck, his old hat, his distressed clothes. They all carry a sense of being lived in, nothing new and shiny on him. Well, except for his jewelry. His silver necklace and rings always shine brightly, a dramatic contrast to the rest of him.

"Stop staring," Mando suddenly says, breaking you from your observation of him. You're a little embarrassed to have been caught, but you aren't going to let him know that.

"Why? Nothin' else to look at around here."

That rewards you with a chuckle. At least he isn't irritated by your staring then.

"Don't you have a book or something?"

You look over at the book you had thrown on the dashboard. A used copy of Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger that you picked up a couple states back. You aren't sure you like Holden, but it's a good read at least. "Yeah, but I can't read it for long before I start feeling sick. So I guess I'll just have to look at you instead."

"Sure that I won't make you sick?" Mando teases.

You smile. He's in a good mood today. There are days where conversation with him is like pulling teeth, but it makes days like today all the more worth it.

"Nah, you aren't so hard on the eyes." You say it cool and casual, genuine but not needy. As though you don't often think of his looks when you have the time and privacy to satisfy your needs.

Mando shakes his head slightly but you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips. "Sure, sweetheart."

He never seems to believe you when you compliment his appearance. It breaks your heart a little. Sure, he has some years on you, but you aren't blind. You know a good-looking man when you see one and Mando? He was it. If the man wasn't oblivious, he'd notice the looks plenty of women and some men throw him when he strolls into town.

Not sure of what to say next, but not wanting the conversation to end, you take to a habit that's been slowly forming over your months with him. It had begun out of boredom one day, but continued due to a desperate urge to learn anything and everything your mysterious companion will tell you about himself.

"When's your birthday?"

Mando isn't surprised anymore by your random questions. "May eighteenth."

Your eyes go wide at his answer. It was July now, meaning he'd let the day come and go without telling you. You had just assumed his birthday hadn't come around with you yet. "Mando! Why didn't you tell me? I would have at least said something if I had known."

He shrugs. "Birthdays aren't a big deal where I grew up."

"Were you raised Jehovah's Witness or something?" you ask.

"No, nothing like that." His fingers drum slightly on the steering wheel. You noticed a while ago that he did that when you got close to something he didn't want to talk about. His childhood always seems to be a touchy subject.

You want to know more, want to learn all of his secrets, but you don't want to jeopardize his good mood. Mando had shared bits and pieces of those more intimate details with you over your shared months with him, but always on his own time. His own terms. You won't push it now. Instead, you pivot to something more innocuous.

"If you could only eat one meal for the rest of your life, what would it be?"

You're surprised when he barely takes any time to consider the question before answering. "Tacos."

You raise an eyebrow. "Tacos? I took you for more of a burger and fries kind of guy."

"Nothing compares to a good authentic taco from down by the border." He says it with such confidence that you can do nothing other than believe him.

"I wouldn't know," you say.

Mando cocks an eyebrow at you now. "We'll have to fix that then."

A warm flush runs through your body at his words. You know he isn't looking to get rid of you, but hearing him make plans for the future with you, no matter how tentative, makes you happier than you care to admit. Small promises that you know he'll make good on eventually given the time and opportunity.

"What about you?" he asks.

"Easy. A full breakfast. Eggs, bacon, potatoes, and toast. Doesn't matter how they're cooked or the specific options, you can't go wrong."

You stretch yourself out in the cab as you answer, throwing your feet up on the dash. Your eyes close for a moment and you miss the way Mando's eyes rake over your extended frame.

"You're never awake for breakfast," Mando comments. He's right. You enjoy your sleep and when left to your own devices you easily dream through breakfast hours.

"That doesn't matter," you retort. "Breakfast food isn't only good in the morning."

You continue that way for a while, gathering small bits of information about him and sharing your own in return. You learn that he prefers hot weather over the cold, soft pillows over firm ones, showers over baths, and most surprisingly that he has a soft spot for musicals. That fact had made you giggle, imagining Mando singing along to The Music of the Night. With all of his mystery, he wouldn't make for a bad Phantom you think.

As the afternoon wears on, you can feel yourself growing tired. Between the warmth of the sun, the lulling rumble of the truck, and the comfortable environment of the cab, you're fighting to keep your eyes open. Mando notices your struggle and reaches a hand out towards you.

You aren't really sure when this began, but you aren't complaining about it. Mando would hold your hand whenever you fell asleep in the truck, thumb gently rubbing against your skin. His hands were rough, callused from years of work, but they felt nice. They felt strong, comforting. In those moments nothing else in the world mattered. And if you thought about his hands later, touching places other than your hands, then that was your business and no one else’s.

You wake up a couple hours later, Mando calling your name to pull you from your sleep. The sun has moved down in the sky and you guess it’s somewhere close to five o’clock. You’d check the time on the radio, but Mando never seemed to bother keeping it right due to regularly changing time zones with all the cross country traveling.

You’re sitting outside of some 24 hour diner on a random roadside. Mando seems to be fond of these little dives, preferring them to any of the big chain restaurants you always pass. Fast food is the only exception to that rule and even that’s rare, these food stops often being one of few chances to stretch your legs when you’re on the road.

“What do you think? Do they have the best pie in America?” you joke, pointing at the sun-worn sign hanging below the restaurant’s name. You can’t count how many ‘best blank in America’ signs you’ve seen at this point. While you can’t credit their authenticity, it usually did mean there was something good waiting for you on the menu.

“I suppose we’ll have to be the judges of that,” Mando replies.

You tug on your socks and shoes that you pulled off earlier in the day and hop out of the truck. The easy conversation and warm nap have you in a great mood, one that makes you a little bolder than you might otherwise be. Walking into the diner, you grab onto Mando’s arm, smiling at him when he looks down at you in surprise. He doesn’t pull away from you though and your heart beats a little bit faster.

The diner has plenty of open seats and you seat yourselves, grabbing one of the booths. The stiff vinyl isn’t the most comfortable, but you can’t say you’re surprised. The place looks like it hasn’t been renovated in a decade. If the smell from the kitchen is anything to go off of though, the food will be just fine.

A waitress comes over to take your orders. She’s exactly what you would imagine a waitress to look like in a diner like this one. Slightly heavyset, a kind face, and a big smile to offer you. “Hi there, what can I get the two of you?” she asks.

“I’ll take a coke, ma’am,” Mando says. He seems oblivious to the flush on the waitress’s cheeks at his baritone.

“I’ll take a coke too.”

“I’ll be right back, folks.”

You reach over to grab a sticky menu from the end of the table. The stickiness grosses you out a little, but it really does add to the ambiance of the place. Your conversation from earlier drifting back into mind, you immediately look for the breakfast section. Perfect. Their ‘two eggs and more’ option is exactly what you were looking for.

The waitress returns with your drinks and takes your orders, Mando getting himself a burger and fries. You smirk at him, taking the wrapper off of your straw. “I thought you said you weren’t a burger and fries kind of guy?”

Mando watches as you carefully make a wrapper worm, dropping the smallest amount of soda on the paper to make it move. “I just said tacos were my favorite, never said I’m a guy who doesn’t enjoy a good burger and fries, sweetheart.”

“Fair enough,” you say with a shrug.

You fall into a comfortable silence together at the table. Silence isn’t an uncommon occurrence between the two of you. When you first joined Mando you talked all the time. Trying to fill up the empty space, feeling like if someone wasn’t talking then the situation was awkward. Slowly you learned though. The silence was never awkward until you made it that way and unless Mando had something to say, he’d stay quiet. He’s not incapable of conversation, he just doesn’t like to force it.

You softly hum a tune that’s been stuck in your head, looking out the diner window and enjoying the sunset. It’s a gorgeous one today, the sky looking like an oil painting with its gradient of colors. The flat plains allow for a good view of it too, only a small building in the distance blocking any part of the horizon. You kick yourself for not picking up that disposable camera at the gas station this morning. The photo would never do it justice, but at least that way you could have a small piece of the gorgeous sky to hold onto.

Plates being set down on the table brings you back down to earth. You happily dig into your meal, pleased to have been right about the quality of food here. Nothing could beat a good meal at a greasy diner. Mando seems to enjoy his burger as well, scarfing it down well before you finish your plate.

He always ate like that and you aren’t sure why. It’s as though he thinks if he doesn’t eat it fast enough then someone is going to come and steal it from him. Early on you��d tried to speed up your eating, feeling awkward every time he finished and was forced to wait on you. Now though, you don’t care. Mando rarely ever stops moving and a meal with you is a time you can be certain that he isn’t doing anything for once. You hope that eventually it might encourage him to actually enjoy his food as well, but that still seems a long way off.

Mando picks at his fries and sips at his coke while you finish up. The waitress comes by to refill the drinks, another flush on her cheeks when Mando thanks her. There must not be many attractive men who roll through here if a simple thanks has her blushing, you think. Poor lady, she seems quite nice.

“So, what’s the plan?” you ask Mando between bites of egg and toast.

“Plan?”

“Yes, plan. We’ve been driving west for two days now and you seem to have some destination in mind. So, what’s the plan?” What plan, of course Mando has a plan. He always does. Was it always well thought out or complete? No, but there is never a time where he doesn’t have some sort of plan, some idea of where he’s off to next. You’re the one without plans, content with travelling alongside him.

Before Mando can reply, the waitress returns to the table and clears his now empty plate. “Can we get a slice of your pie?” Mando asks.

“Of course, what flavor would you like?” she replies.

“Whatever flavor you think is best, ma’am.” That garners yet another blush on the waitress’s cheeks. Wow. Things must be really bad around here then. One good-looking customer shouldn’t have that big of an impact on anyone, much less a woman who’s clearly made this job her life’s work.

She leaves and you prompt Mando again. “So? Plan?”

“I’m going to meet someone tonight, pick up a new job. Then we’ll go from there,” he finally tells you.

You aren’t pleased by his half-cryptic half-telling answer. He’s always doing this to you, giving you answers but never quite the whole thing. You bet he already knows what the next job is, he’s just being coy about it for some ridiculous reason.

You decide not to push it and slide your plate over to Mando. There are some hash browns left and he won’t just ask for them despite the fact that you’re clearly done. He doesn’t say thanks, just picks up the fork and shovels them in. This by now is routine too so it doesn’t bother you, but it’s still odd. Mando is just weird about food.

He finishes the last of your meal and the waitress returns with the pie. “Blueberry, winner of the county festival five years running,” she tells you.

You grab a fork and dig in, suddenly finding the room in your stomach for dessert. Best pie in America might be a stretch, but you believe their claim to the best pie in the county. It’s delicious, eliciting a small but satisfied groan from you on the first bite. You go to take a second bite when you realize Mando hasn’t moved yet, he’s just watching you with an expression on his face that you can’t quite make out.

“Earth to Mando?” you say, waving your hand. “Try the pie, it’s delicious.”

He breaks from his stare and takes a piece of the pie. “‘S good,” he says around the mouthful.

You laugh at his terrible manners. “Gross, finish chewing before you talk.”

He doesn’t have a witty retort, but he gives you a grin that makes you feel like you’ve won a million dollars. It’s one of the ones that reaches his eyes, making them just shy of sparkling. Now you really wish you had bought that disposable camera.

Finishing the award-winning dessert, you and Mando go up to the counter to pay. He’s left a tip on the table, a sizable one in your opinion, but you aren’t going to say anything about it. Mando is always leaving big tips at places like these.

You take in the diner for one last moment, not paying attention to Mando’s conversation with the waitress until she says something that catches your ear.

“-shift ends in a half hour.” Did you hear that right? Was she really propositioning Mando right now? Christ, things must be downright desolate around here.

Your heart stops as you wait to hear Mando’s reply. He could easily accept. She’s an attractive woman with that classic middle America charm about her. Any other man would probably take her up on the offer. Would it shatter your heart into a million pieces if Mando did? Most likely. But do you have any right to feel that way? Most likely not.

Mando isn’t tied to you, at least not in that way, and he’s certainly still a man. You haven’t known him to chase after any women the whole time you’ve been with him, but surely he has needs and the waitress is beautiful and willing. You wouldn’t be able to fault him for it.

“I’m flattered, but the lady here and I need to be getting back on the road,” Mando says, slinging an arm around your shoulders. You do your best to keep your face neutral, not wanting to come off as rude while also trying not to make it obvious the way your heart swoops at Mando’s reply. You know he doesn’t mean anything serious by it, but the implication is still very much there.

Embarrassment washes over the poor woman’s face. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I just assumed…” she trails off, not finishing her thought. You want to feel bad for her, but you can’t help but feel sorry for yourself.

You have a good idea of what she assumed. You’ve heard a multitude of mistaken relationships by now between you and Mando. Everything from some kind of family relation, to something more perverted that’s assumed by greasy motel attendants who cast odd glances when you ask for a double instead of a single. It’s never any less uncomfortable.

Mando brushes it off. “It’s fine ma’am, no harm, no foul.” The waitress doesn’t blush at his words anymore.

Bill paid, you and Mando leave the diner. His arm leaves you and you climb back into the truck. The radio flickers back to life and neither of you speak. You wish you could know what’s going on inside of his head. Probably just thinking about the next job. That seems like him, always focused on what’s coming next.

You can’t help but be consumed with thoughts of him. Situations like the one with the waitress always left you distracted. There’s no real way to describe your relationship with Mando. You had helped him with a deal and he had helped you with a way out of your one-horse town. Originally neither of you planned on staying together for this long, but at some point Mando stopped asking you where you wanted to go and you stopped asking if he was going to leave.

You’re comfortable around each other, content to drive across America while Mando picks up job after job. At some point your feelings deepened for him, you aren’t exactly sure when, but now you can’t imagine leaving Mando. It’s no longer just about the adventure of it for you. It’s something more, a deeper tie than you’ve ever had to anyone. However, you have no idea if he feels the same way and you don’t intend to find out. Better to love your mystery man from afar then reveal yourself and get left in the dust.

Fifteen minutes into the drive, Mando reaches over and turns down the radio. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable back there.”

You’re a bit surprised to hear an apology. After all, he had nothing to really apologize for. The waitress had come onto him, not the other way around. You know Mando isn’t the type to flat out refuse and insult someone like that. What he had done was… fine. You had hardly even considered it.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Mando,” you tell him. “If anything she did, propositioning you like that.”

A small, relieved smile works its way across his face. “It was quite bold.”

That makes you laugh. “I’m not surprised, she was sizing you up since we walked in.”

“She was not,” Mando argues.

You shift in your seat to face him. “Are you kidding? You really didn’t notice her blushing every time you spoke to her?” If Mando was this oblivious maybe you didn’t need to worry about him catching onto you.

“Now you’re just lying, sweetheart.”

“Am not. You just don’t pay attention.”

Mando rolls his eyes and turns the radio back up. He mumbles something but you can’t make it out. You let it slide and allow yourself to relax. Your hand falls to the center of the bench seat as you look out the window. The stars are coming out now, another gorgeous sight in the vast expanse of the sky. So far away from the city, it feels like you can see every pinprick of light the universe has to offer. It’s a bit disorienting honestly. Nothing makes you feel smaller by comparison and yet, you don’t really mind.

You startle as something wraps around your hand. Looking down, you realize that it’s just Mando, holding your hand as he does when you’re close to falling asleep in the truck. You look up at him, confused. You aren’t anywhere close to nodding off. He should know that, so why…?

Mando doesn’t look at you, keeping his eyes fixed on the road. His thumb softly rubs against the back of your hand. You relax into his touch, turning your eyes back to the stars. Confusion about Mando’s actions doesn’t compare to the way your stomach flips at his gentle touch. It feels nice, domestic almost, if one can consider a life lived out of the front seat of a rusted out pickup domestic. His hand doesn’t leave yours until he pulls into the pothole filled parking lot of some dive bar.

Mando parks and turns the truck off. You move to get out of the truck with him when he squeezes your hand to stop you.

“Stay in the truck,” Mando says. His hand leaves you and he opens his own door, jumping out onto the cracked asphalt.

You look over at him, incredulous. “Excuse me? You know I am old enough to go in there, right?”

“I know. Stay in the truck.” Mando closes the truck door, giving you no more room to argue with him. It pisses you off.

What is this? Soften you up by holding your hand only to leave you behind? You hate when he does this, treating you like a child that’s just tagging along with him. You suppose you are tagging along, which stings a bit more, but you could be helpful, useful even if he would just let you in. Instead he keeps you at arm’s length at times, treating you like you can’t take care of yourself. He has no right to boss you around like that, telling you where you can and can’t go.

You watch his figure enter the bar, temper rising. If this place was good enough for him, it was certainly good enough for you. A bar like this had been where you met Mando months ago, working as a bartender and server. It didn’t bring back the best of memories, but you can handle yourself. At worst a fight might break out or patrons might get a little handsy. You can avoid the first and as for the second, it’s not as though Mando would need to put someone in the hospital for getting a little too flirty with you.

After fuming in the truck for a couple minutes, you make up your mind. You look yourself over in the mirror, trying to fix your appearance to look like you hadn't just spent the last two days in a truck. Pleased with yourself, you pull your shirt down slightly to reveal a bit more cleavage. The discovery of the power a pair of tits held in dive bars was one you made a long time ago. You flip the mirror back up and get out of the truck.

You practice your walk as you approach the bar door, trying to keep it calm and confident. Mando is going to be pissed at you for this, you already know, but you refuse to be treated like a child. If coming in here without his permission is what it takes for him to view you differently, then so be it. Younger you might be, but incapable you are not.

The moment you walk in the door, you spot Mando. He’s in the corner, talking to someone with his back to the door. He doesn’t even notice as you walk in and stroll up to the bar.

The man behind the counter is old, his white shirt spotted with stains and a towel thrown over his shoulder. It’s almost too stereotypical a look and you want to laugh. The stiff look he gives you though stifles your amusement.

“What can I get you?” he asks gruffly as you take a seat at the bartop.

“I’ll take a whiskey on the rocks.”

Whiskey is not your favorite drink. Not by a long shot. Really, you would have loved to order something fruity that you can’t taste the alcohol in, but whiskey is something you’ve learned to tolerate. You know that appearances matter in a place like this and a fruity drink would mark you as someone lost, not as someone who belongs here. You aren’t looking to get trashed anyway, just something to calm your nerves.

It doesn’t take long before someone is sidling up next to you at the bar. You don’t acknowledge him right away, instead staring up at the small CRT TV that’s playing the local news above the bar. Some murder case from a couple towns over is currently being highlighted. Lovely.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing here?” he asks you.

You glance over at him, enough to get a look, but you don’t let your eyes linger. Lingering eyes would mean an invitation that you certainly don’t want to give. You have to admit, as far as seedy dive bar men went, he isn’t hard to look at. Not much older than you, clean shaven, bright blue eyes. Another time you might have gone for someone like him. Not now. These days your thoughts are only occupied by scruff, dark hair, and warm brown eyes.

“Came in for a drink,” you reply simply.

He leans in a bit closer. “Can I buy you another?”

You take a sip of your drink. “I think I’m alright, thanks.”

He pushes in even further, placing a hand on your thigh. This guy didn’t take no for an answer apparently. “Aw, come on now, don’t be that way sweetheart.”

Hearing him call you sweetheart makes you want to punch him more than him touching you does. It sounds wrong coming out of his mouth, harsh and manipulative, not the smooth and warm way Mando says it. For a moment, you do seriously consider punching this guy square in the jaw before deciding against it. You came in here to prove a point and not being able to handle a pushy guy would just prove the exact opposite of that.

You turn in your chair to move your thigh away from him. He has the decency to let his hand fall at least. “Don’t call me that,” you tell him.

“Alright then, what do I call you?”

You turn your attention back to the TV. Now they were highlighting a feel good story about an animal adoption from the nearby shelter. Odd shift in tone. You don’t reply to Blue-eyes and hope he gets the message.

��Playing hard to get, that’s fine,” he says. You take another sip of your whiskey. The news shifts to the weather. There’s more warm weather on the way for the next week, no storms in sight. That’ll be nice to drive in you think.

Blue-eyes’ hand returns to your thigh, creeping up higher than it was before. “I don’t mind hard to get, sweetheart.”

That one garners a slap. You do it before you even give it a real thought. It’s a good one at least, making a very solid sound as his head spins. It’s a testament to the bar that no one even spares it a second glance. Blue-eyes turns back to you, furious.

“You’re going to regret that, bitch,” he hisses at you, roughly grabbing your arm.

“You’re going to regret it if you don’t take your hand off of her.”

You’ve never been so happy to hear Mando’s voice in your life. Could you handle this guy? Probably. Do you want to? Absolutely not. You know on your own there's a near certain chance you'll end up with bruises before this guy gives up.

Somewhere in your mind you register the very real possibility that Mando is pissed at you right now. You shove it down, choosing to focus on the fact that he did just come to your defense.

Blue-eyes is more stupid then he looks and doesn’t read the very obvious threat Mando poses. Instead he doubles down and tightens his grip on you. “Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it, old man?”

You can't say you're surprised when Mando punches him in the face instead of answering the question. You also can’t say that you feel bad about it either. The surprise and hurt of the sudden punch makes Blue-eyes release his grip on you, giving you enough time to move out of the way as Mando moves in. Mando grabs a fistful of Blue-eyes' shirt and pulls the guy in towards his face.

“Do you regret it?” Mando grits out. Blue-eyes sputters something that sounds like an apology and pushes himself away.

Satisfied, Mando now turns on you. You were right, he's pissed. His typically soft, warm eyes are hard on you now as he pulls you away.

You flounder to tell him you haven't paid for your drink but he just ignores you, dragging you out of the bar. If you were smarter, you would think to be a little scared about making a man like Mando mad at you. Instead, your thoughts are occupied with how he's barely even trying to overpower you and yet you couldn't break free of his grip if you tried. You wonder if there's something wrong with you for how much it's turning you on.

Arriving back at the truck, Mando releases his grip. "Get in," he demands.

You do as you're told and climb into the passenger seat as Mando goes around. Nerves finally settle in. Mando would never hurt you, you know that, but he could decide to ditch you somewhere. Whatever this situation is with him, it's far from formal. He has no obligation to you and could easily choose to end it. With the trouble you’ve just caused, you wouldn’t be surprised if this all comes to a swift and sudden end.

As Mando climbs into the cab, you stare down at the floorboards, terrified that he's going to tell you he's dropping you off somewhere and leaving you behind for good. You can't imagine your life without him now. There's nowhere for you to go, nothing for you to do without him. Right back to square one.

He doesn't speak right away, which only makes you more nervous. He peels the truck out of the parking lot, headed back in the direction you came from. You still don't look at him. It's obvious you fucked up and there's nothing you can really say to fix that. Your only hope is that he forgives you.

You're headed back through the small nearby town when he finally speaks. “I told you to stay in the truck.”

You don’t say anything in response. Anything you can come up with sounds childish in your head. The exact opposite of what you'd been trying to prove. Thankfully, Mando takes your silence as an answer.

“Why would you even do something like that? Do you know how stupid that was?” His hands are tight on the wheel, glancing between you and the road as he yells.

You mumble back to him.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

“He called me sweetheart,” you say a little louder.

“What?” He isn't going to let you off the hook with this and it gets under your skin. Some part of you thought he might be proud of you for smacking that creep and here he is berating you for it.

“He called me sweetheart, alright?” you half-shout.

Mando gives you a confused look, clearly not the answer he was expecting. “Do you- do you have a problem with that?” The heat is still present in his voice, but you can hear a little worry in it now. Shit. This is not what you wanted out of this whole ordeal.

You've never wanted the ground to come up and swallow you more. Why didn’t you just say that you smacked him for touching you? That would have been simple. How do you answer this without making everything weird? No, Mando, I don’t have a problem with that. I smacked him because I only like it when you call me that. Sure. That won’t be weird or awkward at all.

After cursing yourself for a few seconds, you manage a response. “No, I- I just didn’t like it when he said it.”

"Oh." That's Mando's only reply.

You know he's still angry about you coming into the bar, but apparently your answer has sidelined him. If it wasn't so embarrassing, you might even be rejoicing at his reaction. Instead you just feel like a fool.

The silence remains as you pull into a little local motel with the vacancy sign lit up. Mando hands you forty dollars, way more than you need, and tells you to get a room.

Okay. So he isn't getting rid of you… yet.

You barely even listen to the attendant as they tell you they only have one single available for the night. Now is not the time to be arguing about sleeping arrangements. You take the key, room 104, and make your way back to the truck.

You grab your bag from the flatbed and let Mando know the room number. He nods and goes to pull the truck around. You kick yourself as you walk over to the room. Why didn’t you just stay in the truck? Why didn’t you just lie to Mando about your reasons? He’s smart and it won’t take long now for him to put two and two together. Especially if he asks anymore questions.

You have no idea how Mando might react. If learning about your feelings towards him combined with what happened in the bar might be enough to leave you. He’s certainly not cold with you, but you’re not sure you’d call any of his actions romantic either. Holding your hand after the diner today is the closest he’s ever come. You wish you knew what that meant to him. You know what it meant to you.

Mando parks the truck outside of the room as you unlock the door. It’s not a fancy room, just one big square with a bathroom attached. There’s a full bed, a dresser with a TV on it, and a small table with a couple chairs. You toss your bag on the table and sit down on the edge of the bed. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t upset, Mando can always see through your lies. Might as well just get this over with.

Nervous, you hide your face in your hands, leaning forward with your elbows on your knees. You’re ready to deal with it, but not while actually looking at him. You can’t handle seeing his face as he figures things out; the way he might look at you while he rejects you. Suddenly you feel a wave of sympathy for the waitress earlier today. You hope Mando will let you down easy like he did for her.

You don’t look up when Mando comes into the room. His boots enter your line of vision and you close your eyes. You can’t look at any part of him right now. It’s too painful.

Mando says your name softly and you can sense as he kneels down in front of you. You don’t reply. Gently, he moves your hands away from your face. You still refuse to look at him and he cups your chin, lifting your head up to his.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” You wish you could resist, but you can’t. Not when he speaks to you in that soft tone. Not when he calls you that.

You meet his eye and see all the concern and worry he holds there. “I’m sorry, Mando. I should have listened to you.”

His hand slides up to hold your cheek. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have treated you that way. I could have at least told you why I didn’t want you coming in with me.”

You’re surprised at his apology. Two apologies he didn’t need to make in one day. This isn’t something you ever expected. You assumed he would still be full of heat and anger, not this careful kindness.

“Why didn’t you want me to come in?” you ask. You need to know the reason, need to know why it is he told you to stay behind. No matter how much the reason might hurt.

Mando sighs. “I didn’t want you to come in because I didn’t want anyone else looking at you.”

You pull back out of shock. “What?” Did you hear that correctly? Could that mean what you thought it might?

He takes off his baseball cap and runs a hand through his hair. “What can I say, sweetheart? I’m a jealous man.”

A thousand thoughts run through your mind. There are so many things you want to say, so many questions you want to ask, and yet none of them can find their way out. As a result, you do the only thing you can.

You lean in towards him, slowly, giving him enough time to stop you if he so chooses. He doesn’t though, instead following your lead and moving in closer. You carefully search his eyes for any answers they may hold. Your noses bump and you both pause. “Mando, I-”

He cuts you off. “Din. My name is Din.”

You close the gap and kiss him. The kiss is careful at first, as though you’re both still looking to confirm that yes, this is what you both want. Mand- Din’s lips are soft and sweet against yours and you melt as it’s everything you could have imagined and more. A small moan escapes you, one that you’re embarrassed about until it causes Din to deepen the kiss. Caution evaporates, quickly turning into passion as your tongues meet.

Din moves, getting up from the floor and pushing you back against the bed. His lips never leave yours, devouring you as though you might slip away at any moment. He gives your bottom lip a small nip, quickly soothing it with his tongue. You pull away, needing a moment to catch your breath.

“Is this okay?” Din asks, his voice low with desire. You respond by pulling him back down into another bruising kiss. Your positions shift as the kiss continues, Din’s knee finding its way between your legs as his arms wrap around you. Both of your hands have worked their way into his hair, something you’ve been fantasizing about for months now.

Din begins to kiss his way down your neck, leaving little love bites along the way. You gently tug on his hair, pulling a heavenly sound from him that only intensifies your pool of desire. Desperate for more, you move a hand down, seeking the hem of his shirt and slipping your hand underneath. His skin feels remarkable under your fingertips.

Din pulls away from your neck and quickly divests himself of his shirt. He allows you a moment to take him in, his lean physique flexing as he holds himself above you. Scars litter his body in various shapes and sizes, but you think they look beautiful against the glow of his honeyed skin.

Taking the opportunity, you remove your top as well, leaving you in your basic everyday bra. You wish you had worn your other bra, the sexier one, but with the way Din is looking at you, you’re not sure it matters. His lips return to your body, working his way across any and all of your newly exposed skin. One hand splays on your waist, holding you, grounding Din against you.

“You’re so soft, sweetheart,” Din murmurs against you. His lips find their way up to your chest, placing careful kisses against the globes of your breasts. He pauses and looks up at you, seeking your permission. You arch your back, allowing Din access to slip a hand beneath you and undo the clasp.

He pulls the bra away from you and you flush under the intensity of his gaze. “Perfect, you’re perfect,” Din says before reoccupying his mouth with your breasts. It seems that he has a real oral fixation, not that you mind in the slightest. His warm mouth feels heavenly against you, licking and sucking wherever he can.

Din takes one of your nipples into his mouth, his fingers playing with the other. It’s the best thing you’ve felt in months, better than any of your late night fantasies when you would try to satisfy your growing want for the man currently giving you so much pleasure. As though your attempts could ever come close to the real thing.

Din releases your nipple with a pop and returns to your mouth, licking his way inside. His kiss alone is enough to make you see stars. It makes you forget any other kiss you’ve ever shared, enveloping you in him and him alone.

You pull back slightly from the kiss, unable to take more without further relief. “Din, please, I want you,” you pant into his mouth. Din growls, actually growls, at your words. It's a far hotter response than it should be.

“Yeah, sweetheart? What do you want me to do to you? Tell me.” His knee comes up and presses his thigh against you where you want him most, causing you to moan out his name. “Use your words, sweet girl.”

He’s trying to kill you, you think. Calling you a name like that. Sweet girl. It loops in your mind until Din’s fingers ghost over your nipples again. “I want you to touch me,” you tell him.

“I’m already touching you,” Din says. He’s a tease, you think, growing slightly frustrated with him. His thigh moves against you again though and he’s immediately forgiven.

“Please, Din,” you whine, hoping he’ll take pity on you. Thankfully he does, moving his leg away and quickly removing your pants. You already know you’re soaking, your panties feeling cold against you with the loss of the other cloth barrier.

Din pauses for another moment to take you in before moving. You’re nearly bare before him, almost entirely on display.

“You’re so beautiful,” he compliments, his hands parting your thighs. “So perfect, so beautiful, and all mine.” You can feel yourself clench at his words. No one has ever made you feel this way before. His stare only relaxes you more, his words feeling like a warm blanket wrapping around your fears and quieting them.

Din’s fingers brush against you through the thin cotton. “Is this all for me, sweetheart? I can already feel how wet you are.”

He continues to tease you, only leaving you capable of nodding your head back at him. His eyes catch yours, watching your reaction as he pushes the near useless fabric off to the side and pushes one finger between your folds. Just the small touch sets you aflame, pushing yourself down onto his hand, wanting more.

His finger leaves you and you frown until you watch as he brings it to his mouth and licks your slick off of it. Din moans at the taste. “You taste better than you do in my dreams.”

He leans down to kiss you, sharing the taste of yourself while he pulls your panties off completely. They’re thrown haphazardly into the room, lost to be found for later.

Din then moves himself between your legs, slowly working kisses down your body as he slides back onto his knees on the floor. He grabs your waist and pulls you to the edge of the bed with ease and starts nipping and kissing your inner thighs. Your hands wind back into his hair, while you lie in disbelief that this is really happening right now.

Gentle kisses are placed along your folds, Din moving back as you try to grind your hips down onto him. His eyes catch yours again, mouth hovering over your clit as he speaks. “I’m going to taste you until you cum on my face and then I’m going to fuck you, okay?”

This time you manage a response, frantic to let him know that’s exactly what you want. “Yes, please, I want you so badly, Din.”

It’s all he needs to hear. His mouth comes down on your clit, carefully playing with the bundle of nerves, making you cry out and clench around nothing. He pulls away slightly and then licks a long stripe from bottom to top, pausing again at your clit to give it a teasing suck. Your hands pull at his hair from the attention.

He moves back down, teasing your entrance with his mouth. He moans, lapping up your pussy, acting every part a man dying of thirst who’s found oasis at your core. You buck into him and his hands quickly wrap around your legs, holding your hips in place. Din wants to pleasure you, but on his own terms, at his own speed.

You can’t make a coherent thought as he continues to eat you out. Small snippets of words make their way out of you, none of them making any real sense in conjunction with one another. It’s not until his thumb finds your clit as he continues to lick, suck, and nip at you that you find complete words to shout. “Din, oh god, yes, right there, I’m so close...”

Moments later you feel the tension within you snap, crying out as your body shakes from the overwhelming pleasure. Din continues to work you through your orgasm, only stopping when you physically push his head away from you. He trails hot kisses along your inner thighs again, telling you how beautiful you are, how good you taste, how perfect your pussy is.

As you come down from your high, Din removes the last of his clothes, finally freeing his stiff erection. Your breath catches as you take him in, your Adonis in the flesh. He’s gorgeous, you think, wondering what you did to get so lucky.

Then he’s back over top of you, kissing and sucking at your skin. Some of those are bound to leave marks for tomorrow but you don’t mind. You want everyone to see, for everyone to know that you’re his. No more mistaken assumptions about your relationship, you want it on display for the world.

You look down to catch a better glimpse of his cock, satiating the curiosity that’s plagued you for so long. He’s big. More than enough to fill you, possibly even more than you can handle. As wet as you are, you know you’ll need him to go slow, to slowly stretch you out before he can truly fuck you.

You tilt your hips, bumping against him, letting him know that you want him. “Do you want my fingers first?” Din asks. You know you should say yes, but you can’t imagine another moment without knowing what he feels like inside of you.

“No,” you tell him. “Just go slow.”

Din places a quick searing kiss against your lips and positions himself. The head of his cock presses against your slick entrance and you feel like you’re already seeing stars. Din is muttering in your ear, holding you tightly against him as he pushes into you.

“Fuck, you feel so good sweetheart. So tight and wet for me. I can’t wait to fill you up, to feel every inch of your sweet pussy.”

You nearly forget to breath as he slowly pushes in further. You can feel every inch of him and you only want more. Din’s stream of compliments are interrupted when he finally bottoms out in you, holding himself still as your walls clench and stretch around him. “Fuck, sweetheart.”

You turn your head and pull him into a blazing kiss, loving the way he feels filling you up. You wonder how you were ever satisfied with your fingers before when this had been next to you for so long. Din is apparently thinking along the same lines, whispering to you, “I’d have done this long ago if I knew you felt this good.”

You don’t even have time to consider the words as he slowly begins to move in you. The pleasure borders on agonizing as you begin to move your hips, encouraging him to move faster. Din responds quickly to your urging, setting a furious pace as he begins to lose all control. You know you’ll still be feeling him tomorrow and the thought makes you smile. You never want to go another day without a reminder of how he feels.

His thumb returns to your clit and you don’t have time to warn him before you’re thrown into another orgasm. Your walls clench around him and you lose yourself in the feeling of cumming on his cock. Din quickly follows, pulling out of you just in time to paint your stomach with ropes of his spend. You mourn the loss of him, but once Din finishes he buries himself back inside of you, causing another shock of pleasure to zing through your body.

Din rolls the both of you over, keeping himself sheathed in you, and allowing you to collapse on top of him. You’re both sweaty and panting, trying to come up with words. Din’s fingers lightly trace along your back, causing goosebumps to erupt across your flesh. You lift your head up from his chest in order to look at his face.

He’s completely debauched, sweat causing hair to cling to his forehead, the rest completely wild from your hands. His eyes are still blown wide, happily looking back at you. His lips are pink and swollen from all the kisses and licks he’s pressed into your skin. You know you can’t look much better than him.

You give a small clench around him and smile at the expression that runs across Din’s face. “I love the way you fill me,” you tell him. Din presses a loving kiss against your sweaty forehead.

“I never want to leave this perfect pussy of yours.” You can tell he means it too. If he could, he would stay buried in you forever. You love the way that sounds. His eyes flutter closed, reveling in the feeling of having you surround him.

“Din,” you say.

His eyes pop back open and refocus on you. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

A smile blooms across your face. “Nothing, I just wanted to say it. Din. It suits you.”

His name suits him in a different way than Mando does. Mando is the rough exterior, the front he puts up to the world. The one who punches men in bars for touching you and calling you pet names. The one that strikes fear into others, knowing that if he’s hot on their trail that they’re screwed. Din is the soft inside, the place where all of his ‘sweethearts’ originate, the cause for the hand holding and sparkling smiles. The man behind the armor that he presents to the world, the one who kisses and fills you up just right.

Din’s arms wrap around you tightly, clearly intent on never letting you go. You’re fine with that, letting it sink in that you’re finally laying in bed with the man who’s consumed your thoughts for months. A small, joyous giggle escapes you.

“What’s so funny?” Din asks.

“I thought you were going to leave me earlier. Now here I am, laying on top of you with your cock still inside of me.”

Din chuckles and you can feel it rumble in his chest. “I’m never letting you go sweetheart, no matter how much you piss me off.”

You fold your arms across his chest, letting your chin rest on your hands. “I am sorry. I just wanted you to notice me. I felt like you were treating me like a child,” you confess.

Din’s eyes widen a bit at your admission. “I always notice you, mesh’la. I never meant to treat you that way. I only want to keep you safe.”

“I know that now. Honestly, I feel so silly about it all.” He reaches up and pushes a strand of hair back from your face.

“Next time, I’ll take you in with me. I’ll show everyone that you’re mine.” He grinds his hips up into you to prove his point. It makes you squeal, causing a smirk to settle on Din’s lips. You give his cheek a small flick in retaliation but make no attempt to move.

You lay there for a little while longer, laying your head back down against Din’s chest, listening to his steady heartbeat beneath you. His hands trace anywhere he can touch on you, intoxicated by having you so close against him. Eventually though, you feel the call to use the bathroom and can no longer ignore it.

Din is almost painful sliding out of you, but you’re more upset about the loss of having him buried in you. Your legs are shaky as you stand, managing to make it to the bathroom on wobbly knees. You take a moment to clean yourself up, running a damp cloth across your body. Exhaustion hits as you return to bed, crawling under the covers and into Din’s arms.

You begin to drift off when Din asks, “Why’d you get a single? Not that I’m complaining.”

“All they had left. Maybe it was a sign,” you mumble back.

Din chuckles and presses a kiss against your head. “Yeah, maybe, sweetheart.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #modern!au #modern!din #din djarin fic #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #mandocrasis fic

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 3 years

Text

Real or Fake? | Bucky Barnes x reader

Requested by @edencherries / Summary: Nat and Steve try to set you and Bucky up by sending the two of you to be a fake couple on an undercover mission at a fancy gala. Will you two still be pretending by the end of the night?

A/N: okay so I absolutely love how this one turned out. Yes, I used Hunger Games (if you’ve read them, you know) as an inspiration for the whole real or fake thing. Obviously it is fiction and a hair cut/growing a beard isn’t a good disguise for the Winter Soldier, but this is my story and I can write whatever I want. (You’ll understand this after you read it)

@edencherries I hope you enjoy! Thank you for requesting!! xx

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

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“and that’s why we are going to send the two of you in there.” Steve is standing at the end of the table with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Come again, who are the two you are talking about?” You ask, looking around the table. You wanted to make sure you heard him correctly.

“You two, y/l/n.” Nat motions to you and Bucky with her fingers, “It’s time for you to be the undercover couple instead of Steve and I.”

“They’ve seen enough of Romanoff and Rogers to know who they are. It would blow the whole mission.” Tony explains.

“Okay but won’t they recognize me as the Winter Soldier? It’s not like that is a secret anymore.”

“Exactly.” You add, “So, it can’t be me and Barnes.”

“I’m not against it being you and I.” Bucky says from across the table, “I just don’t want to put you in danger because someone makes me out as the Winter Soldier.”

You can’t help but blush at Bucky’s protectiveness. I mean, if he doesn’t care about it being you and him, then you shouldn’t either. You relax in your chair to hear what Tony has to say.

“Yes, well that’s why you’re going to have to cut your hair and grow this out.” He motions to his chin, “Just a little scruff. That’ll probably be just enough to hide the Winter Soldier look.”

Bucky subconsciously runs his fingers through his long hair, “If you say so.”

“You guys are going to really have to play the part.” Nat begins, “I mean, you two have to look like a married couple, in love. Not all embarrassed to touch or look a each other like you’re doing now.”

“We get it, Nat.” You mutter.

“Good.” She smiles, “Lets go get you your wardrobe picked out then. The GALA is in a week.”

“Barnes would like this one.” Nat holds up a dress and you scrunch your nose up at it.

“Why does it matter if Barnes likes it? Shouldn’t I be the one who likes it?”

“because he’s going to be your husband.” Nat shrugs and browses through the remaining dresses.

“Fake husband.” You correct before finding a dress that you adore.

“Not enough cleavage.”

you groan, “Nat! Come on. I don’t want my hoohas out in the open.”

She sighs, “Alright alright, go try it on.”

You do as she says and when you come out wearing the dress, her mindset changes, “Okay, fine I actually like it.”

“Then I’m going with this one.” When you turn to leave you hear her mutter something about Barnes is going to love it.

“We really have to try on tuxes? I have plenty.” Bucky says to Steve.

“yeah but you need a new one for this gala.” Steve shrugs, “Plus, Tony’s paying for it so why not.”

“Are you sure that sending y/n and I is a good idea? We don’t talk that much.”

“You guys are going to be great. I mean you two work well together. I’ve seen the two of you out in the field. The chemistry is great.”

“yeah but that’s.. not even close to acting like we’re married and in love.”

Steve sighs and puts a reassuring hand on Buck’s shoulder, “Look, you got this. Y/n is a beautiful woman and you two work well together. Who knows, maybe you two will fall in love by the end of the night.” Steve shrugs.

Bucky rolls his eyes, “Yeah right.” If only he knew.

~ Night of the Gala ~

Nat had spent the afternoon getting you prepared for the gala. She went over the target and what needed to happen tonight while she helped with hair and makeup. And by helping, I mean she told the ladies what to do.

“And most importantly, have fun with Barnes tonight! It’s a luxurious night at one of the most anticipated parties of the year.”

“Okay, but we’re still on the job. We still have to get intel on the target.”

“Yeah but you two have to play the part, so you still get to have fun.” She fixed the bottom of your dress so you could see the final look in the mirror, “You look stunning!”

You tilt your head as you admire your reflection in the mirror. Getting dolled up like this was a rare occurrence, so this was a treat. “Its not too much?”

“No, it’s perfect. Tonight is going to be great.” She gives your shoulders a gentle squeeze, “We should get you to Barnes. He’s probably waiting for you.”

“I don’t know if I like this new look.” Bucky rubs at the stubble on his cheeks and chin.

“Facial hair is popular now. All the ladies love it.” Steve hands Bucky his suit jacket; you’d be down any minute now.

“When have I ever had to worry about what the ladies loved on men? They loved me anyway.” Bucky chuckles as he slips the suit jacket on.

“Yes, well, some of us weren’t that lucky.” He peeks over his shoulder when he hears you and Nat’s voice, “Look, if the night goes well, look in the left pocket of the jacket.”

Bucky looks at his best friend in confusion, “What?”

“If the night goes well, left pocket.” Steve quickly mutters out, but it was more of a jumbled mess as you and Nat approach. It leaves Bucky wondering what the heck Steve meant and if this was a mission, why would it matter if the night went well? He didn’t wonder for long, because his attention was somewhere else as soon as he laid eyes on you.

You wore the dress with such a confidence he wondered where it could have been all this time. Yeah, he’d seen you out in the field, kicking ass, but this was a different side of you; a different confidence. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you outside of your field uniform. Well, there was that one time... Knocking is very important.

“You..You look..” Bucky was tongue-tied. There wasn’t a word in the dictionary that could describe you. Not a word that would capture the immense beauty of what he was looking at in this very moment.

Luckily, Steve jumped in, “I think he’s looking for.. beautiful, stunning. You know somewhere along those lines.”

Bucky suddenly felt underdressed. did he put enough gel to slick his hair back? Did it look okay? Was his suit good enough? Did he put on enough deodorant? He put on his underwear, right?

“Your new look fits you well.” You motion to your face with your finger, “You look very handsome.”

He clears his throat as he fiddles with his coat, “It’s scratchy.”

You giggle, “facial hair is very popular now though. The ladies love it. I know I do.”

Bucky wasn’t sure why, but that comment made him feel giddy inside. What the hell was going on with him? Snap out of it Bucky! “Should we get going?” He holds his arm out for you and you gladly take it, slipping your arm through his, “Yes we should. Don’t want to be late!”

When you arrived at the event, the two of you signed into the party under fake names of course. As you made your way to your table, you two began searching the crowd for the target.

“I haven’t spotted him yet.”

“Yeah I don’t...” You take another look and you finally spot him as he enters the room. “He’s just entered the room.”

Bucky pulls your chair out for you, “Yeah I see him.”

“Apparently we’re supposed to gather intel on the guy, but Nat never specified what kind.”

“Steve didn’t mention it to me either. I guess we’re supposed to keep an eye on him?”

So, that’s exactly what the two of you did. You two played along as the happy couple, talking with the others at the table while dinner was served.

“So, how long have you two been married?” The woman asks with a smile. Oh god, you two didn’t even go over anything like in the car.

“4 years.” Bucky smiles at you as he takes your hand in his, “But we’ve been together for 6.”

“Oh that’s so wonderful! My husband, Carl and I have been married for 30 years!”

“Wow 30 years? That’s.. amazing.” You comment, thankful Bucky took the lead.

“You want to know the secret?” She leans in closer, “the sex!”

“Oh?” Bucky asks, raising his eyebrows questionably at you.

“No no!” She laughs, “I’m only messing with you two. This is going to sound so cheesy, but it’s love. It really is.” She looks longingly at her husband, “If you two love each other, that’s only half the hard work it takes to making a marriage last. The other half is being truthful. And of course respect, and trust. There’s a lot that goes into a happy and healthy marriage.”

You didn’t know if it was on purpose, but Bucky gently squeezed your hand at the end of the lady’s advice. Something about Bucky shifted after the two of you talked to that older couple. Bucky kept his hand on you, whether it be to hold your hand, put his hand on your thigh or even around the back of the chair. It left you feeling confused, because from what you’d heard, Bucky wasn’t one for physical affection. You weren’t sure if he was playing the part well or if this could somehow be real affection toward you.

The two of you swayed softly to the music. Bucky held you close to him, one hand in yours and the other on your waist, “Are you enjoying the night?”

“We’re technically supposed to be on a mission.”

“Yeah but we can still enjoy ourselves.” He pulls away to look down at you, moving a piece of hair of your shoulder, his fingers grazing your soft skin.

“Are you enjoying it?”

He chuckles, “I asked the question first, doll.”

You playfully roll your eyes and shrug softly, your eyes dancing around the crowd to make sure the target hadn’t left, “It’s only pretend..”

“Is it though?”

Your eyes snap back to Bucky’s.

“Is it only pretend?” His hand leaves your hip to run his finger along your cheek, “Are we really faking this?”

The skin on skin contact sends a shiver down your spine, goosebumps covering your body, “I don’t know, Bucky. Are we?”

He smirks softly, “You really don’t know how to answer a question do you? You’re supposed to answer it with an actual answer, not a question.” His hand moves to your neck, cupping your cheek as if he was going to...

And then his lips meet yours. Bucky Barnes was kissing you. Oh god but was this real or fake? Was this a part of the married couple look? Was he only playing his part of your pretend husband? Even with the confusion, you returned the kiss. Your hands going to the back of his neck. If you were being honest, you didn’t want it to end.

Bucky’s lips slowly leave yours, his eyes locked on yours.

“Real or fake?” You whisper, gulping, “The kiss, was it real-”

To answer your question, his lips pressed against yours again.

As the party neared its end, you and Bucky decided it would be a good time to leave. Walking out of the event center hand and hand, Bucky remembered Steve’s advice. He patted his jacket and felt something in the inside pocket. When he pulled it out, it was a hotel key. The same one hosting the gala.

“That sly bastard.”

When the two of you opened the hotel room, inside it was only one large king size bed and a dozen roses sitting on the bedside table with a bottle of champagne and of course two glasses. There was also a note -

if you’re reading this, it means the night went well and our plan worked. Please make sure you give us credit at your wedding. Also, order whatever you want because Tony’s paying. We’ll tell him that later.

p.s. don’t be mad, this wasn’t a real mission. We picked the guy out from the guest list and told you to watch him. - Nat & Steve (aka Matchmakers)

Marvel tag list: @hommoturttle , @iheartsebastianstan , @5jacobm5 , @lovely-geek , @fangirl-swagg , @1-800-thanos , @jessyballet , @katiaw2

All my works tag list: @blossomreed , @mggstyles , @simonsbluee , @thewolf-and-thesheep , @obxrafejjwhore , @abbiesthings , @itstaskeen , @reniescarlett

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female!reader #bucky barnes x fem!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fic

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yoimix · 3 years

Text

haikyuu!! as types of best friends.

➼ ft. hinata, sugawara, bokuto, osamu+atsumu.

➼ playlist. talk too much - coin, higher - banks, romanticism - mrs green apple, me and my friends - james vincent mcmorrow

➼ a/n. these have light bff2l undertones hhn i love that trope, pls forgive me. </3 + there’s some timeskip spoilers for atsumu & osamu’s part.

❀ hinata :-

i wish the childhood best friends trope a very good evening.

no one’s better than hinata at making friends, even if you met after he spiked a ball into your face. you’re childhood best friends too !! so imagine being a child and having to pick up this goofball by the scruff, who has the audacity to ask you to play with him after giving you a scratched up forehead and teary eyes from a ball to the face. but, like, you were the one who said yes so it’s on you :-)

sometimes you bicker but it’s ok bc he would literally go to the ends of the earth for you if you asked. no kidding. he hates sitting still anyway so he’ll just gravitate towards where you are like you’re the sun. also gets you taiyaki in the evenings but climbs in through your window instead of using the front door like a normal person. (he has too much energy </3) if you hear someone yelling your name outside your window and ranting about volleyball games, you know who it is.

ok when he makes you mad with his bullheadedness, you'll be complaining with kageyama (who agrees vehemently) and hinata gets pissy bc you get along a little too well when you're throwing insults about him. (he's not jealous, no, of course not.) but.. how long can you stay mad at this sunshine child anyway?? you'll be pretending you never got mad at all within a few hours and go back to joking around.

he gets distracted if you're watching a match sometimes (bokuto somehow got it into his head that he needs to show off in front of you) so you got banned from watching. he overcomes it later on so you can cheer him on in his jersey too <3

gives you ALL his attention when you talk or even complain about your life. he reacts a lot to whatever you have to say so you have to pretend there aren’t people behind you glaring at hinata for having the same decibel sound level as a jet engine.

you have matching keychains you bought at a local fair !!! (you got a pochacco one for hinata but it’s super worn out by now so he keeps it in his wallet instead.)

he has not won a single multiplayer video game against you (*cough cough* mario kart *cough*) and you don’t even have to be good at it. if you call him a loser, he’ll lose even harder. gets unnecessarily mad at just dance and you have to calm him down.

... you’ve probably kissed bc the two of you (mostly him) were too eager for a first kiss and you got fed up with his pubescent ramblings and ended up kissing him. and then had an early mid-life crisis bc you guys are definitely just friends. (unless.. unless he doesn’t think that way.. surprise surprise 😳) also he's.. kind of bad for make out practice... it’s like kissing a month old puppy.. sorry :/. if you happen to make a lot of offhand comments and tease him about his kissing skills, he WILL turn tomato red and argue in gibberish. only do that in private bc the rest of the world thinks you’re sickeningly cute together >:(

overall, your best friend is a ball of sunshine (who occasionally pisses you off) and your #1 motivation to get out of bed. it's mostly bc he's somehow there to get you out of bed though you've repeatedly told him to not climb in through your window. at least the sun is smiling upon you every day <3

❀ sugawara :-

being best friends with him is such a secure relation !!

he’s your soft place to fall but also would provide gentle (not so gentle) reminders for your wellbeing (STUDY!!! WATER!!!! BREAKFAST!!). doesn’t get mad when you say you skipped breakfast but gives you this look of disappointment which is 100x more effective. still gets a granola bar for you though. also he literally carries bandaids for u and he’s been doing that since second grade bc you fell off the swing ONCE. you know, just in case. if you’re an accident-prone hazard to society, you’re in luck.

BEST HUGS especially if you had a rough day and want to sob into his shoulder. if u damage his $85 hoodie tho, he will make u do his laundry and also buy snacks for him. but like he is so soft (his skin is SUPER soft bc he actually follows a skincare routine now) and cuddly like a teddy bear, it's a small price to pay for salvation.

he will hype you up for anything you do !!!! new outfit? offers to be your personal photographer. scored an A+? will treat u to your fav ice-cream. new job? will tell everyone just how proud he is.

ALWAYS shares the last bite with you and smiles to himself when you eat it so contented. also!!! hanging out at cafes and taking cute pictures is a must <3 even though you’re not dating, you’ll have photos together that make you look a real couple which ensue teasing from daichi and asahi and admiration/jealousy from noya and tanaka. also he gets weirdly protective of you around the team (i’m looking at the moron quartet) and you have to pull the “koushi you’re not my mom” card. it really strikes a chord with him when you say that out loud.

will egg your ex's house with you if you say the word. somehow gets more pissed than you at your ex (if they're a shitty one). it's kind of scary when he's mad too so.... good luck calming him down. he's also really good at sarcastic trash talk so if you happen to meet your ex on the street... send prayers for their self-esteem.

you don't really fight often but if you happen to disagree, he'll go about it in a pretty mature way and talk it out. if you pick a fight on purpose, he'll catch on to it and either tickle you (excessively) or flick your forehead as punishment for trying to rile him up. it’s impossible to prank him!!!!! it’s like he’s got a sixth sense or something so you might as well give up on anything of the sort.

you said you want to get a dog (or cat) with him in the near future and he somehow equated that to having children. turned bright red and started saying it’s too soon to be thinking of that while you had daichi stop you from smacking some sense into your overly imaginative best friend. (i mean, you do need to live together if you want to raise a pet sooo)

his lockscreen is a picture of the two of you so a lot of people who try to hit on him take the hint quick. he says it’s unintentional but you know he can be terribly scheming at times. if you say something like “why don’t you date me for real, coward” he will malfunction and not be able to look you in the eye. (“don’t joke around, y/n” “what if i’m not” “it kind of feels illegal to date you” “what do you mean?!💢”)

anyway you are one lucky mf if you have sugawara koushi as your best friend even if there are both ups and downs (mostly ups). having someone care for you so blatantly certainly makes the question of romance arise but you’re content with the most loving best friend ever.

❀ bokuto :-

you guys are the “two best friends in a room, we might kiss” “yes we will” “what” type of best friends PLS

it doesn’t matter what stage of life you met him, it’ll feel like you’ve been best friends since the beginning of time.

it’s just so easy to make friends with this airhead and by god’s gift, you cannot physically get annoyed at this man. sometimes his friends will complain about him being forgetful or blunt but you’re just there like. yeah. that’s bokuto. love him for it. (you seem to have a lot of patience.)

he probably gets into trouble with authority unwittingly, so save your weekends to sweet talk his way out after accidentally implying the coach has a weak mindset. afterwards, you go get ice cream or something and hang out at the dog park to forget it happened. (the amount of second hand embarrassment bokuto has given you though... you need some hard drugs to forget all of it.)

you probably make a lot of friends through him in high school/college but at the end of the day, it’s just you and him and sometimes akaashi making sure you guys are alive. if you guys are alone together on a friday night, you’ll still be having fun!! very often, it takes shape as karaoke :-) bokuto thinks he’s really great at rapping for some reason (he’s not) so cue you screaming the lyrics in an attempt to ruin your part of the song equally. also he always sets the key wrong??? although you sing the same songs each time?? sometimes he picks a song neither of you have ever heard and the both of you try to guess the melody. he’s terrible at it but at least he’s funny. there’s not a single song he hasn’t had a voice crack in.

if you go clubbing/partying with him, get prepared to be introduced as the friend of “the guy who did four keg stands in a row before proceeding to do a cartwheel unprompted and somehow not throw up”. is on first name basis with the bartenders/hosts and gets you free drinks. also gets hit on often but is oblivious unless they’re being very straightforward. if he’s not into them... you have to pull the s/o card and save his ass. oh also he barks at anyone that gets near your drink.

will always exaggerate when introducing you to new people. “y/n and i met when i saved them from drowning a terrible death.” “it was the children’s pool and you were the one that was screaming.” “and then y/n didn’t really thank me but it’s not like heroes need thanks to do the right thing.” “kou, i will push you into a pool right now, let’s see how well you swim.” (he learned swimming to impress you so joke’s on you.)

he likes to watch you do stuff at the end of the day, so if you see him go o_o at you doing homework, you can just put your earphones on and focus on your work. even if he’s making.. a strangely.. adorable expression. also LOVES to listen to you talk about your day when he’s tired, he says it helps him sleep better (so expect a lot of nighttime calls). moreover, if you say you had a bad dream, he’ll comfort you with his ridiculously confident tone of voice (unless the dream was about something bad happening to him, then he’ll freak out and you’ll have to comfort him instead </3)

ok one thing that’s annoying about him is that he probably leaves food crumbs over your stuff like laptop, bed sheet, etc. you clean it up but bokuto.. is a bit... distracted to notice the mess he’s making. it’s usually pretty difficult to get him to be more aware, but like your glare is enough to make him at least try to be careful from the next time. (either that or he’s become sensitive to your change in mood/emotions bc you know... you’re best friends after all.)

i’m not gonna lie, he probably catches feelings for you at some point. he wants to, like, keep it lowkey bc akaashi told him to take your feelings into consideration too but?? it’s so hard?? you’re literally so pretty?? everything you say is like music to him??? he reacts reflexively to all the firecracker feelings u give him. he probably says he likes you all the time but you dismiss it with “as a friend right :-)”. there’s no climbing up from that one, sorry bokuto.

to summarize, if a moody golden retriever was your human best friend.exe

❀ miya twins :-

they feel like a set. it would be strange to have one of the twins as a bff and not have the other one around whoops 🤷‍♀️

either you and osamu bully atsumu in your free time, or you and atsumu annoy osamu for fun (or both) <3. it’s always a good idea to team up with osamu and prank atsumu for fun btw. (put wasabi in his breakfast pancakes and you’ll get a very pissed off but weirdly cute tsumtsum. you can blame it on osamu if you don’t want to face his wrath.) your alternative is to embarrass osamu in front of strangers with atsumu, have fun with that. (second hand embarrassment also works.)

when you were younger, you pretended to not be able to distinguish the twins bc it would visibly rile atsumu up and then you’d go “ok you’re atsumu”... which would further rile him up. osamu got used to your shenanigans though it ticked him off the first time too LOL. call them the wrong name on purpose and they’ll start a riot; be careful when you’re playing with fire pls.

you guys played a lot of knight and prince/princess/royal when you were a kid and atsumu would always try to make osamu the evil dragon holding you captive. in the end, you were somehow the knight, osamu the prince to be rescued and atsumu the big, bad dragon. (it’s kind of funny in hindsight. your parents have photographs of the three of you fighting like no tomorrow.) also speaking of which, your parents are also friends and have bets on which twin you’ll marry (or if you will at all). it’s tearing your parents’ friendship apart.

these two have DEFINITELY fought over whose jersey number you’re going to wear to the games ( “oi, ‘samu, stop brainwashing my best friend into wearing your stupid double digit number” “you know i’m the best friend, ‘tsumu. they clearly like me better over yer ratty ass.” “what did ya say?!?!? if anything, you’re the one that looks like ratatouille.”) you wore kita's jersey number to games.

imagine sunday picnics with the boys !!! by that, i specifically mean osamu and his perfect bento boxes <3 sometimes the two of you will cook together before your outings while a sulking atsumu stands outside bc you didn’t let him. (let him in, you monsters.) he says he can cook too but the last time the twins’ bickering almost burnt the whole kitchen down. the picnics continue well into adulthood and you get to diss your boss to the twins who will always support your rants. (sometimes atsumu will tell you it’s your fault but you can smack him off. we only need supportive besties here 🙄)

if someone hurts u.... they’re going to need divine intervention to be safe... you have two well-built, physically adept best friends ready to beat the shit out of anyone who deliberately breaks ur heart.

when the twins get into a physical fight...... oh boy. it kinda pisses you off that they’re spewing profanity at each other and you’re the one getting glares. but at the same time, you don’t really want to step into a fight that has nothing to do with you. people should solve their interpersonal issues on their own. they have never fought over you, this isn’t twilight <3

but the question did come up once on which twin you like better; it’s not something to seriously fight over though. if you chose osamu, atsumu will complain for six days straight and you’ll start to regret ever answering the question. if you say atsumu, osamu won’t feed you his onigiri anymore for a few days which is just as bad. the safest choice is to say neither bc it will both be funny and you won’t suffer too many consequences. if you say you love the both of them for being your best friends all this time and go all mushy, there’s a slight chance they’ll go soft too. god help you from the bone crushing hug you’re about to receive 🙏

you make sure to not miss any of atsumu’s official games !! sometimes he’ll wave at you and make the reporters give you hell bc he’s a little shit. just push osamu to them and run away if it gets that bad. (he gets free advertising for his shop, he should be grateful.)

osamu is super good at cheering you up!!! whether it’s with food or with pleasant talk, you’ll be feeling much better with a full stomach and a calmer state of mind. as for atsumu, he’s really good at you cheering you up by distracting you. he’ll talk about his team or this new serve he learnt and the world will seem a lot brighter bc he seems so happy about it. whichever twin you go to, it’s win-win.

in return, the twins take up a good chunk of your time. sometimes atsumu will crash at your place after a game though you’ve told him to not lead the damn reporters here. osamu makes you taste test his experimental onigiri... which are not always good..... no seriously, why’d he put honey and tuna in there ?? but still, your life is ridiculously colorful with them around.

anyway, what can i say except what’s better than one best friend?? two best friends !!!

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #bokuto x reader #sugawara x reader #hinata x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu scenarios #atsumu #osamu #bokuto #sugawara #hinata #rosemi.hcs #kind of all over the place but it's about the vibes thank you #feel free to correct any typos i made im about to pass out gn ;-;

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empower-bi-women · 3 years

Text

Scene partners

Paring: Pedro Pascal / brown!reader

Word count: 1809

Warnings: SMUT SO IF YOUR NOT 18+ KINDLY FUCK OFF, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), dirty talk, oral sex (f receving), age gap, edging? I’m not sure what else this is pretty tame compared to my other stuff.

A/N: This is dedicated to my girl. If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have been in this position. I hope this kills you! (Jk I love you didi) As always feedback is greatly appreciated :)

masterlist

“Ok that’s the last shot of the day!” the director called out. You moved from your spot on set to walk to your trailer. “Y/N,” your co-star Pedro called out for you. You sped up hoping to avoid talking to him today. You could not handle the way his brown eyes started into your soul as he talked and the way he bit his lip as he would shamelessly eye you up and down. Not right now, “Y/N wait up I want to talk to you for a second.” You could hear footsteps getting closer. Realizing that there's no way of getting out of this you slowed to a stop. “Hey you got headphones in or what.” Pedro smiled at you

“Sorry I guess I'm just caught up in my thoughts. Got a lot going on.” You played with the hair tie on your wrist nervously.

“You know you can always come and talk to me,” he grabbed your wrist gently and tilted your head up to look at him, “I’m always here to help you darling.”

Your face flushed at the nickname. “I’m just a bit nervous for the scene tomorrow.”

“Well why don't you come home with me and I can help you work through it. I’ve done scenes like that so many times.”

You blinked at him. “Are you sure I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

He smiled. “Y/N you wouldn’t be intruding. I'm asking you to come.”

“Ok, that would be really helpful, thank you.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

When you reached Pedro’s house he led you inside. Taking you to the living room he gestured for you to sit on the sofa next to him, but you sat on the chair across from him instead. He had an amused look on his face. “So you haven't prepped for this scene at all?” He asked.

Your face burned. “Well I'm not really experienced in that area so I wasn't sure what to do.” You whispered with your head down.

“Listen, I remember how nervous I was for my first sex scene. Let me help you practice,” after seeing the blush that covered your brown skin, he added, “only if you want to of course.”

“Yeah that would be good.”

He smiled, his eyes crinkled in the corners. “Ok sweetheart, let's get started then. We can take it slow and I’ll tell you all the basics, but first, why don't you come and sit next to me and tell me what you already know about it.”

As you got up to move you pulled down your skirt and couldn't help but notice how his brown eyes raked over your body with a hungry look in them. Sitting down you played with the edges of your skirt and wouldn't look him in the eye. He brushed your hair behind your ear.

“So at the start of the scene the characters are sitting just like we are, side by side, talking,” he picked up the script, “So I’ll be Jason and you be your character, Sabrina.”

You nodded your head and took a deep breath before getting into character. “Jay I need you to understand that we need to set boundaries in our friendship. This ‘arrangement’ isn’t what normal friends do.”

Pedro put his hand on top of yours and you couldn’t help but notice how his hand was so large it completely covered yours. His other hand turned your chin to look at him. Holding you still to look into his eyes he said, “I don't want boundaries I just want you.” He moved closer and closer to you, his eyes flickering at your lips, and stopped a mere centimeters away. You held your breath.

He pulled back. “And that's where the kiss will start and the rest of the scene will follow, okay?”

You took a deep breath and tried to shake the dark thoughts that plagued your mind. Just the idea of kissing him made your head spin.

He rested his hand on your knee. “Are you ok darling? You look a little out of it.”

You shook your head. “I guess I'm just a little dehydrated from everything today.”

“Let me go get you some water. I'll be right back ok?” He said, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear making you flush red.

I need to pull myself together. You thought. There's no way anything would ever happen. He's so much older and I just need to be professional. Just talk and be professional.

Your thoughts were interrupted when he came back with a glass of water as promised. When he sat down he sat closer than before and handed you the glass.

“You need to drink at least half of that before we get back to work ok?” He said sternly.

“Ok.” You drank the water, fully aware of his eyes on you as you did so. As you put the glass down the energy in the room had changed. Everything was a little more tense. Pedro was silent before moving his hand to your knee.

“You know I always thought you were so talented. The way you disappear into a role. But I think it's because you play characters that are like you. Such sweet girls.” His hand glided up your bare thigh to the hem of your skirt. “I never told you but I love it when you wear these skirts. You look so adorable. It makes me want to ruin you,” he growled in your ear, “if you let me take care of you darling, I can make you feel so good,” his hand ghosted over the front of your panties, “all you have to do is say yes.” He left wet kisses down from your ear to your neck. The only sound in the room was your breathing and his kisses.

“Yes please.” Your voice was so quiet you weren't even sure he heard it until he purred ‘good girl’ in your ear as he picked you up and carried you to his bedroom.

He lay you down on the bed before walking away to take his shirt and pants off. You sat up watching him with hungry eyes. He threw his clothes on the floor and crawled on the bed toward you. He hovered over your body and kissed your forehead sweetly before whispering in your ear. “I’m going to ruin that cute little pussy.”

His voice sent shivers down your spine, he pulled your shirt off before kissing his way down your stomach. His fingers hooked around the top of your skirt and underwear, he tapped your hips and you lifted them so he could slide the material off your body.

Throwing your clothes somewhere in the room, he wasted no time getting in between your legs. Leaving wet kisses down the inside of your thighs, sucking and biting, red marks appearing in his path. His scruff tickled your legs making you shiver in anticipation as he neared your core. Licking a long stripe up your pussy he dove in. He wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked. A loud moan escaped your mouth that you tried to muffle with your hands. He moved away from your pussy to pull your hands from covering your face.

“Now princess I don't want to see you covering your face again. You be a good girl and let me hear every little sound you make.” He said with a stern look on his face.

“Okay.”

“Good girl,” he growled before diving back in, this time slipping a finger in you, “so tight just around my finger.”

You whined and tried to move away, the feeling unfamiliar but Pedro held you in place.

“You can't run away from me baby. We gotta open you up so you can fit around me right?”

His finger sped up, hitting your g spot every time. Adding another finger in and his thumb rubbing your clit you were close in no time.

Your loud moans bounced off the walls and you warned Pedro of your upcoming orgasm. You looked up at him, eyes wide as you begged him to let you come around his fingers.

“Please, please let me cum I need it so bad!” Your legs thrashed on the sheets in frustration as he pulled his fingers out of you, licking your wetness off them.

“No baby that’s not what you want,” he said in a condescending tone that made your pussy clench around air, “it’s gonna feel so much better to finally cum around me.” He pulled his pants down. “Don’t you want this?” He questioned you, gesturing down to his cock that was standing ridged at attention.

You felt your wetness drip at the sight. “Yes.”

He stroked your head lovingly. “Such a good, obedient girl for me. Now lie back.”

He pushed your shoulders slightly so you reclined back into the soft pillows. His fingers intertwined with yours as he slowly pushed in. You could feel your walls gripping him tight. He let out a breath and hung his head.

“Goddamn honey you feel so good around me.” He squeezed your hand as you whimpered. Finally his hips met yours and he stilled inside you, giving you a moment to adjust. You had never felt more full in your life. Every inch of you tingled with electricity. You squeezed his hand as a signal for him to move. He slowly pulled out slightly, only to thrust his hips against yours once more. When you moan in pleasure he took that as a sign to move slightly faster, the curve of his cock hitting your g spot every time.

“Does that feel good baby?” He asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

“Yes,” you gasped, “more please.”

When you looked up at him with those big doe eyes, he lost it. Pistoning his hips in and out as fast as he could. You neared your high quicker than you would have liked. Whimpering and clawing at his back, Pedro knew exactly what you needed. His hand snaked down between your bodies to rub your clit in tight circles. His lips went to your neck, marking you as his. All the while, never breaking pace.

“Pedro please,” you whispered in his ear, your voice breaking, “I'm so close.”

“I know baby, me too just hang on one minute longer.” he kissed your forehead.

When you couldn't hold out any longer you finally felt that white hot wave of pleasure wash over you as Pedro kept on moving his hips in and out, working you though your orgasm.

He came soon after, you moaned at the feeling of being filled up. The two of you lay there in comfortable silence before Pedro spoke up.

“I know this is a little backward but will you go on a date with me?”

You laughed. “Yeah of course.”

#pedro pascal #sabrina writes #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal imagine #star wars #the mandolarian #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #smut #max lord #jack daniels #din djarin #javier pena #oberyn martell #pedro pascal x brown reader

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pascalslittlebrat · 3 years

Note

This gives me "I won't repeat myself again...did you touch yourself while I was away?" kinda vibes 👀

dkafjkadsj okay so thanks for the morning torture. I choked on water when I read this. the thots this gave me....well now I just leave this little drabble to spread the love(mature content ahead):

“Pedro?” you asked in shock as you took in the sight of your boyfriend leaning on the stairwell in front of you. You hadn’t expected him to be home for another two days, he had just told you the night before how he still had a few things to take care of before he could return. You blinked a few times, expecting the image of him to disappear wondering if you exhaustion from the day was just getting the best of you.

He never did though and you knew it was really him, there in all his disheveled glory standing in front of you. You smiled as you took in his tousled curly hair, he definitely had to have been sleeping before you got home, you knew how tired he got after a trip, especially since he’d be dealing with jet lag the next few days. He was wearing his silky navy blue robe that you always teased him about and a black and white pajama shirt that was half unbuttoned and exposing his smooth tanned chest that you couldn’t wait to get your hands and lips on. You felt the heat pool between your legs, you knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t wearing anything but his boxers underneath that robe. Oh, how you have missed seeing this man.

You met his eyes, taken aback by the intense look in his eyes, the frown on his face. Your smile faltered a bit, he did not look happy at all. Had you made too much noise coming in? Surely he knew you would have been more quiet if you knew he was home, you always did your best to take care of his rest when he returned from trips. “Mi cielo, is something wrong?” you asked.

Pedro raised an eyebrow at you before scoffing, “Is there something you want to admit baby? Like something to do with what I asked you not to do while I was gone. Did you touch yourself while I was away?” Your eyes widened and you felt yourself freeze up at his question.

You forgot you had left your vibrator on the bed this morning in your rush to get ready for work, which meant he had to have seen it when he went to lay down, shit. You give him a small smile as you try to gain your composure. “Me? Not at all babe, I’ve been waiting for you to come home, like you asked, I’ve been a good girl,” you answer sweetly trying to convince him and yourself as you tried to think of an excuse. You had pulled it out to clean? No, he knew you both always cleaned it after use.

You gulped as you saw Pedro’s eyes narrow, he definitely did not believe your lie. “Cut the bullshit baby. Dime la verdad,” Pedro demanded his usually warm voice hard, the annoyance clear in his tone. He watched you as you ran a hand through your hair nervously, debating your next move.

“I’m telling you the truth, you said not to, I wouldn’t go against your word daddy,” you lie adding the endearment to try buttering him up, knowing you were probably digging yourself in deeper but there was that part of you that was disappointed in yourself for breaking his one request in his absence, so you wanted to try and get away with lying if you could. You took a step forward, wanting to hug him, to breathe in his scent, and in hopes of sweetening him up some.

Pedro leaned an elbow on the rail post, his other hand motioning you to stop, his eyes still intently on you. He was definitely onto you. His soft lips were pressed in a thin line, oh you were definitely in trouble. “I won't repeat myself again...did you touch yourself while I was away?" Pedro growls out, raising his free hand, palm facing you, “You have 5 seconds to tell me the truth princesa, do not push me further.” He brings down the first finger, five…four…

“Yes! I’m sorry daddy, I just missed you so much, and after I saw you in that blue suit, I just couldn’t control myself,” you admit, hoping he won’t tease you too much in your punishment. You looked at the floor ashamed, you hated that you had failed but it was so hard when he had been gone for the past two weeks. “I only did it once, I promise!”

Pedro brought his hand down and tsked as he made his way down the last few steps and moving in front of you. He put his finger under your chin and tilted your head up to look at him, his hard eyes had softened and you melted into his touch. You senses were filled with closeness and his scent and your body felt like he had just lit it on fire with the simple touch. God how you had missed this man. “Oh baby, you’ve been a bad girl. You should have called me and told me. I would have told you all the filthy things I wanted to do to you, let you touch yourself,” he whispered huskily into your ear. His tongue flicked against that sensitive spot behind your ear and your hands immediately reached up to the silky material covering his broad shoulders to brace yourself as you bit back a moan. Your thighs clenched shut together, “But no instead I had to come home and find your vibrator on the bed, taunting me with your disobedience.”

“I’m sorry daddy,” you breathe out, looking up at him apologetically taking him in up close. His scruff had grown out more since he had left and fuck if you didn’t want to run you tongue over that jawline and the gray patch that was growing out.

“To the couch. Now.” Pedro commands as he lets go of your chin, trying to keep himself in line. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into him and kiss you deeply, to take you against the front door and show you how much he had missed you. However, you had broken his request and now he had to punish you. He watched as you nodded and followed him to the couch.

He undid the front of his robe and you practically pounced him right then and there, as expected he was just in black boxer briefs and you could see the outline of his erection, they definitely left nothing to the imagination and he looked ready to burst out of the seams. He sat down on the couch and spread his legs, patting his thigh, his way of telling you go over his lap. “You know the rules baby girl,” he tells you and you pull off your shirt and pants. Pedro’s breath hitches as he takes in your lacy bra and panties, he definitely had picked the right day to come home. “Fuck baby, over my knees. Now.”

You position yourself the way he likes, ass up, his erection pressed against your stomach. You whimper at the feeling, how you wish you had listened. He would probably be balls deep inside you right now. “If only you had been a good girl, I’d be eating that pretty little pussy of yours right now or deep inside of it, having you clenching around my cock like the little slut you are for it. Instead I’m having to punish you baby, now you know the drill, count. We’re going to do ten because you lied to me twice. Red if it becomes too much okay?”

You nod remembering the safe word you both had in place. You waited for it before the familiar sting of his hand coming down on your ass came. You let out a soft moan and Pedro wrapped his free hand around your neck, choking you softly, “Count, baby girl or I’ll add another two.”

“O-one,” you breathe out, oh how you loved this. He called it punishment, but you lived for when he would do this, his hand getting your ass nice and red, the painful yet pleasurable sting of his hand coming down on your ass. He knew how much you liked it too and you knew he was taking it easier on you then when he denies your orgasms.

“Such a good girl, look at you taking each slap so good baby, you love me spanking this pretty ass of yours don’t you?” Pedro coos, as you nod and continue to count as his hand comes down on your ass, your breathing becoming more frantic. You could feel how soaked your panties were and you wanted nothing more than to grind against him. “T-t-enn…fuck” you moan out as he gives you the last spank.

He rubs your ass as he always does after a good spanking, soothing the pain. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to each cheek, “If only could see what a pretty shade of red your ass is right now.” Pedro guides you up and moves you to straddle his waist letting out a whimper when you feel his hard cock against your sensitive core, “Fuck baby, I can feel how wet you are through those panties.”

You can’t help but roll your hips against his erection, swallowing his moan as you smash your lips against him. You kiss him with all the desire built up inside you, all the days and nights you missed just holding him. “Pedro… I want you…. Please,” you beg between kisses as you grinding becomes more desperate. Your body needed him so bad, you needed your fix of him and your body wouldn’t be able to put out the itch until it had him. He was your personal drug that you could never get enough of and you loved every second of it.

“You’re so fucking wet baby, you love me spanking your ass, you’re soaking my cock through the material,” Pedro murmurs against your lips as one hand grabs your waist and the other moves down to rub against the wet spot of your panties.

You gasp as his thumb rubs against the outside of your clit, “Yes daddy, I love having you make my ass red and sore, it makes me so wet… please fuck me. I’ll be so good on your cock.” You’re practically begging as you grind against his cock and his thumb.

Pedro smirks seeing you already losing yourself in the pleasure just from you dry humping him, he loved seeing the way your head would fall back, the way your eyes would squint closed shut as the pleasure became too much, the way your nails would dig into his shoulders as you found the friction you wanted. “Oh mi amor, que bonita te miras asi,” Pedro purrs in your ear as he pulls your lace panties to the side, a moan leaving your lips as he rubs circles against your wet core with his thumb, “I hope you’re ready for the rest of what’s to come. I guess time zone differences can be useful, I’m going to have so much fun with you tonight.”

#you put my mind in overdrive #i want to say sorry but i'm not #pedro pascal drabble #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #Pedro Pascal #answered #my writing #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Text

Din Djaren x force sensitive reader - A Moment Of Bliss

Summary: You’re trying to meditate but your boys have other plans for you.

Warning: child being cute, fluff, SMUT, Din being the best space husband

Side note: wrote this before I learned the child’s name is Grogu, that is all.

Masterlist

You and your small clan of two have been stationed on a beautiful rolling grassland of a planet, ginormous stocky umbrella like trees sprouting from the flat land every couple miles from one another. They’re honestly quite the sight to behold, and something that you’re grateful for considering there’s no sand in sight. Honestly the most blessed thing of all that this wonderous planet has to offer, you can’t say you’re a real fan of the desert by any means.

Although you’re not exactly fond of the real reasoning why you’re here, it just so happened that Mando had gotten himself into some trouble when he captured the last bounty. A trafficking lord who just wasn’t as clever as he thought, earning himself some chains and a go around in a fun little thing called carbonite.

Nonetheless, his minions had tracked you two down after the bounty had been cashed in, slightly damaging the Razor Crest before Mando was able to lose them with some quick witted maneuvering. But you’re certain they’re still hunting you guys somewhere close by in the galaxy.

So for the time being, Din has decided for your band of three to lay low on this beautiful planet until he’s sure that the petty criminals have given up, or until you both get bored enough and decide to finish them off yourselves.

Which is all fine for you, what could be better then a tiny vacation away from shady scavengers and untrustworthy pimps? Nothing really, so to make the most out of your fortunately unfortunate escape/ temporary vacation. You’ve chosen to spend your afternoon helping the child practice his growing powers. Although it appears the little guy is more interested in a shiny purple crystal that he found minding its business on the gravely ground.

Sitting yourself in a criss cross position upon the soft grass, you close your eyes as you prepare to meditate when suddenly the child makes the most adorable babbling sound, with an amused smile you open your eyes to look down at him, “I’ll let that slide.” He gurgles while tilting his head to the side, his big green ears flopping ever so slightly as he possibly considers your comment.

Watching him decide to sit down and instead play with the purple crystal, earns a little smirk upon your face as you shut your eyes once again. This time he doesn’t do anything to break your concentration, so taking the blessed opportunity you’re finally able to zone in on the force. Laying your arms onto your folded legs you open your palms, feeling the world around you, sensing the energy flowing in as you begin to rise from the ground.

The child watches in silent awe as small fist sized rocks begin to float and flow in circles around you, your contact with the grass no more. For a couple minutes you’re able to sustain your deep meditation, then a tiny little coo is heard from below as it shuffles in the dirt. You almost lose focus at the intruding noise, but your zoned out enough to come back to the welcoming bleary void of the force.

Another couple minutes go by before an adorable noticeably louder coo pricks at your ears, letting out a huff, you remain in the air, the pebbles and rocks around you keeping themselves suspended just the same. You focus even harder, letting yourself feel weightless and in control as you levitate above the grass, the child deciding to coo and babble once more.

“Shut up you’re gonna break my concentration,” You whisper softly as you carefully continue to levitate mere inches off of the ground. Just then the child suddenly lets out a loud messy sneeze, your face falling in irritation, “Aaaand it’s gone.” You deadpan before falling on your butt with a hmph, the little guy giggling in amusement. You fake glare at him before falling back into the soft grass as you look up to the blue sea of sky when suddenly a dark shinning shadow towers above you.

“How’s the meditation going?” Wonders Din as he joins your little party from where he once was, tending to the ship that is.

Sighing, you pull yourself up from the grass and into a proper seated position as you turn your attention to Din, “Not terribly.” You reply with a love struck grin as you lightly pat the grassy spot next to you, “Sit with me?” He looks at the area before bringing himself down to your level.

“Couldn’t hurt to relax for a minute.” Inquires Din as you roll your eyes.

“We’re being hunted Din, I think this little get away vacation of ours calls for a bit more then just a minute of relaxation. Don’t you agree?” He turns his helmet to you, the black T of his armored face showing you back your own distorted reflection.

“Gives me time to work on the ship.”

Nudging his arm that’s mere inches from your own you look at him with a smile, “Okay so that’s how it’s gonna be, you’re just glad to be working on the ship?” You muse with a fake scoff while shaking your head at him, “I should have known.”

“What? No that’s not...that’s not what I meant Y/N.” He rushes worriedly as you scoot yourself closer to him.

Softly chuckling at his quick reaction, you lean into his side as you casually lace his gloved hand with your own, “I know what you meant. But just cause I’m me, I’d rather have you in my arms then fiddling with that hunk of metal.” You explain before setting your chin against his beskar covered shoulder. You can’t see it, but he’s smiling underneath that helmet of his, looking deeply into your loving gaze.

“Likewise.”

Snaking your arms around the one closest to you, he ever so slightly leans into your touch, “Please take off your helmet so I can see those enticing dark eyes of yours. Please?” You urge with a light squeeze of his arm, “I can’t exactly kiss you like this...no ones around to see anything....and anyways we’re married so I automatically get a free pass.”

He gently squeezes your hand before reaching his arms up to his head, you hear a soft click and a whoosh of air as he pulls off his helmet. A blissful smile breaks out onto your beaming face as his fluffy brown locks appear before you, styled every which way as they embrace their new freedom.

He sets his shiny silver helmet to the side before pulling off his gloves as his dark irises find your face, you’re unabashedly biting your lip while you take in every single feature of his handsome face, “It’s a good thing you wear that helmet of yours,” You lean in close, “cause all the ladies would be fighting each other for a chance to get with you. There’s no doubt in my mind.” You muse as the most adorable of smiles graces his stunning features while he leans his head against yours, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

“I have a great suspicion that you’d fight them before they even had a chance to breath in my direction.” Retorts Din as his hands gently grasp your own.

“What? No way.....okay....maybe yes.” He smiles brightly before pulling back, only to let go of your hands as he engulfs you into a giant hug. You quickly squeeze back as you push him into the grass, laughing as the both of you fall onto the soft earth.

Your eyes find his shining dark ones as you lean in close, “We should stay here, disappear from the rest of the galaxy and go M.I.A forever.” He kisses you in reply, his lips are soft and inviting as he holds you impossibly close, the scruff of his day old unkept facial hair scratching your cheek.

He slowly pulls away, earning a pout from you once he’s able to see your face again, “That does sound appealing, but I know you’d get bored with the calmness. You like adventure too much to stay in one spot for very long.” He says with a knowing look as he leans in to plant soft kisses over your cheeks, “I know you Y/N.”

Rolling your eyes you lean down to kiss his nose, “That you do, Din. Sometimes annoyingly so.” You reply before breaking out into an abrupt laugh as you watch him study your face lovingly.

Suddenly you feel a little nudge by your boot, shifting your gaze away from Din you look over to your feet where the little womp rat is. He’s smiling adorably as he babbles some more, stretching his little arms out for one of you to take, making a cute grabby motion with his hands.

Heeding to his silent yearning you sit up to gently pick up the beaming child, “Oh and how could I forget you, my little green bean....you can have all the cuddles too.” He squeals in delight as you hold him close in your lap, Din scoots over so his head is by your thighs as he gently pets his little green son on his wrinkly head.

Running your fingers through Din’s helmet hair you make a funny face at the child causing him to laugh, “I guess staying here for another week couldn’t hurt. I’ve got my two favorite people in the whole galaxy....no need to rush things.” Mutters Din as he looks to you with the biggest heart eyes while you stick your tongue out at the child.

“I’d like that very much, our little green boy....you and me, alone, a ship all to ourselves...no one to bother us.” You add, a suggestive tone laced throughout your sly voice, Din’s eyebrows raise in interest at your intriguing words, much to your amusement.

“And I have time to work on my ship.” Replies Din, side eyeing you to see your reaction to his lackluster comment.

Shaking your head you lightly tug at his tangled hair while he laughs, “You little shit. I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you...you fucker.” A giggle escapes from your lips as you try and keep a serious face, Din attempting to do the same, though you’re both about to crack.

The baby starts to babble, as he wiggles his little body from side to side in an attempt at gaining back the both of your wandering attentions. Not being able to handle the sheer silliness in the atmosphere you let out a loud burst of laughter, Din following suite.

You watch as the sides of his eyes crinkle in joy, his belly rippling with each new inhalation and exhalation of air, “Din, would you like to see what we’ve been practicing on?” You ask as he finally calms down again.

“You’ve been practicing with him?” He asks with a smile, “I’d love to.”

Turning to the child in your lap you grab his sides before gently setting him onto the ground, “Okay little guy, remember you’re training....what we we’re doing yesterday. First we stick our hand out....and then we focus really hard on wanting to lift up the rocks. Okay.” The child coos in excitement as he lifts his clawed hand out to mirror your own, “Now close your eyes and feel...feel the power around you, the wind, the earth...call to it, let it flow.”

He suddenly lets out a little tut of determination as he does his best to focus, Din watches silently in anticipation for what may happen next. A beaming smile breaks out onto your face as a couple tiny pebbles begin floating off of the grass, the child lets out an excited babble as he celebrates his achievement, “You’re doing fantastic my little love, I’m so proud of you.” He coos even more as you gush in amazement, the pebbles falling to the grass as he gets distracted by your words of encouragement.

“But can Y/N lift some little stones?” Jokes Din as he gently nudges your arm, you raise an eyebrow to him before using the force to lift him a couple inches off of the grass. His eyes go wide for a second, clearly not expecting you to mess with him before you drop him onto the soft grass once again.

He lands with a dramatic huff, you look to him and your heart skips a beat as he eyes you up like a wolf to his prey, you swallow just as he suddenly tackles you into the soft green grass. You fall back with a yelp as your Mandalorian pins you to the ground, his beaming face so close to your own as he stares into your eyes with his dark ones.

“You think you’re real funny, hmm Y/N?” His voice is low and husky, his breath fanning your smirking face as he attempts to take the upper hand, “Cause that kinda hurt my arm.”

You simply roll your eyes, “I’ve seen you get swallowed by a Krayt dragon, you reckless man. Tough it out my love, you don’t want to make a bad impression on the little guy now do yo...” His soft lips are suddenly on yours as he shuts you up with his soft plush lips. The child waddles over towards the Razor Crest, uninterested with training and with whatever wrestling game you and Din are becoming entangled in.

You smile into the kiss as Din rests his weight in between your opened thighs and stomach, he rests his forearm upon the grass as his other hand caresses the side of your face. You bask in his body as your hands feel through his soft wavy locks, he moans into your mouth at the pleasant sensation, earning an amused chuckle from you.

Your opened mouth giving him enough space to stick his tongue into it as he teases you, you answer back just the same, your tongues dancing in the dark as he consumes you. He feels rather nice, you can’t help but to begin feeling a bit heated in your nether regions from the close proximity in this compromising position he has you in. Your body erupts with electricity as he starts to grind into you, the slow small friction against your clothed womanhood sending you into another realm of pleasure, and he’s not even inside you yet.

“Right in the grass?” You mumble against his lips as he bucks against your hips, the sensation driving you insane.

Knowing exactly how it’s making you squirm, he feels rather proud of himself, “Ships too far.” Mutters Din between kisses as he reaches down to unclasp his belt.

Your lips stay locked, a surprised gasp leaving your mouth as Din tugs down your own pants. He sits up and quickly makes haste with discarding his armored torso, flinging off top clothing and undershirt as you lift up your arms for him to pull off yours. The fabric falling to the grass as the both of you take in each other’s nearly naked bodies, your thin undergarments the only pieces keeping you away from total bliss.

He rests himself upon his bent knees while dark pleading irises stare into your own, he’s asking silent permission to disrobe you of all clothing. A smile breaks out upon your flushed face, nodding in a silent yes, his eyes flash with excitement and lust as he reaches over to tug at the edges of the tight fabric, he gently pulls off your bra. Your breasts bounce once they’re free from their constraints, Din’s brows raising in excited surprise before leaning down to kiss each one before he captures your lips with his once more.

Din you have no idea what you do to me.

Deciding you’d quite like it if both of you were naked, you pull away, Din’s face following yours as he pouts. In reply to his protests you fall back into the grass, “My undies aren’t gonna take themselves off.” You muse with a lustful gaze upon your man, god you already feel so wet, Din’s most obviously hard and you’re so ready for him.

His cheeks are flushed as he gently grasps the hem of your underwear on either side of your hips, you lift your bum up when he slides them down your legs, abandoning them in the grassy field. Your heart soars when he leans down to plant a kiss on the inside of your bare thigh, then another and another as he trails up to your knee. He pulls away to look at you once again, his face a mask of pure love and adoration as he shimmies out of his bulging boxers.

Biting your lip, you lean up to meet his lips, he kisses you deeply as he rests his calloused hands into each one of your knees, ever so carefully he parts them. Your nerves sending a wave of heat into your core for the anticipation of what’s to come, both literally and figuratively. If not for the current events you’d be laughing, your wandering thoughts quickly dissipating away once he pushes you back so that you’re laying in the soft earth as he locks eyes with you.

Giving you the most beautiful of smiles he kisses your abdomen, then below your bellybutton, up to your stomach, and in between your breasts. He’s hovering annoyingly close to you. You arch into him, the skin of his torso meeting your exposed womanhood, a moan escapes him from the wet contact against his stomach. You let out a breathy laugh as he squeezes and kneads your left breast, his mouth consuming the other one, his tongue working wonders as he sucks and licks at your perked nibbles.

Your hands tangle in his wavy dark hair as he continues his pleasurable assault in your breasts, his fingers may cause a little discomfort as he squeezes but you’re enjoying it too much to give a shit. His hot wet tongue dances in circles around your skin, he lets go of your breast to then lick up your turned neck. Doing everything in your power to keep it all inside, you bite your lip in an attempt at suppressing a moan, your voice breaking free once his hardened member rubs past your entrance without warning.

“There’s that pretty voice of yours.” Mutters Din before capturing his lips with yours, his hands held firmly against the ground as he holds himself up inches from you.

How annoying you can be, Din. Just get closer you idiot.

You feel so warm and fuzzy, his body mere inches from your wanting skin, your legs already open and ready as his length stays firm only centimeters away from your lower abdomen. Tugging at his hair, he parts from your lips as a confused expression crosses his features, you simply chuckle, “Stop making me wait my love, I’m ready for you.” His eyes closing in bliss as you purr sweetly into his ear, “I need you in me, now.”

Heeding to your straightforward command, he reaches a hand down as he guides his hardened cock to your awaiting entrance. He rubs it against your clit in a teasing manner before he slowly pushes into you, your hands flying to his muscular back as your walls adjust to his length. With a soft moan from his sweet lips, he fills you entirely, for a couple seconds does he pause. Letting himself enjoy the sensation of his cock inside you as he presses butterfly kisses all over your face.

Yes, fucking finally.

Not being able to stand it anymore, you buck your hips into him, this giving Din the cue to start working his magic. He completely pulls out of you before slamming himself into your slickness once again, a gasp leaving your lips as he does it again and again and again. Until he decides to keep himself flush against you, his new close contact vigorous thrusts sending more waves of euphoria coursing throughout your entire vessel. All that’s heard in the breeze is the sounds of your moaning and the slabs of skin on skin as Din pumps relentlessly into you.

You’re honestly rather glad that those bastard scavengers ran you into hiding on this planet, it had been a while since you and Din had had any real intimate time together and this was the perfect opportunity. Humming in pleasure, you kiss his scruffy cheek as his head falls into the crook of your neck, “Din I fucking love you so much, you have no idea.” More deep strokes are thrust into you as he kisses the side of your head.

“Y/N ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.....” His all he manages to mutter as another satisfied moan escapes him. You chuckle at how absolutely adorable and hot he’s acting right now, another thrust into you emitting a moan from your lips. He feels so good with how he’s treating you in this special moment, your two bodies colliding like stars in the sky.

You suck in a breath as a warmness builds in the pit of your stomach, you can feel your orgasm slowly rising with each and every pump into you. Din hums as he pushes you into the grass even more now, you can tell from how much more rigorous his thrusts are becoming that he’s on the edge of paradise.

And soon after he grunts, does he spill into you, the new added sensation enough to drive you wild with bliss. Your own high finally reached as your body shakes with euphoria and the last sloppy thrusts that he’s giving you freely.

A whimper escapes from your mouth as he enjoys himself inside of you for a couple more seconds before he slowly pulls out and flops by your side on the soft grass. He’s breathing heavily as you let the cool breeze fan over your sensitive swollen womanhood, the wind doing wonders for your hot sweaty skin as you try and calm down from your buzz. You close your eyes with a satisfied smile upon your content face as Din turns over to you with an equally joyous grin.

You listen and feel as he scoots himself against your side so that he can rest his arm over your stomach, his scruffy face inches from your cheek as he gently kisses you before resting his head against your temple. You lift your arm up to lay it over top of his as he hugs your side, doing his best to keep you as close to him as physically possible.

A pleasant sigh departs from his pouty lips, fanning the side of your face as you smile, “Y/N, you are very special to me...I just thought that you should know. Incase you ever forget.”

A small chuckle escapes you at his soft words, “Din I don’t think I could ever forget, you mean more to me then all the stars in the sky...more than the most valuable gems to ever exist or even my lightsaber.” He kisses your temple once again, “I believe the force has brought me to you my love, and I’m forever grateful for that.” You voice is a soft whisper on the breeze, yet he hears it all the same.

“Y/N I love you more than life, you are too sweet my beloved.” Your heart skips at his truthful reply, a small lump in your throat forming as he presses his nose against your hairline.

You turn your head to see his face better, he locks eyes with your own as a shy smile appears on his face, “Din Djaren you’re going to make me cry, shut up.” You muse with a quick kiss to his lips, looking into his dark brown irises like they hold all the answers to the universe.

He smiles against your cheek, kissing you there once more, “Never.”

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x you #din djaren x you #din djarin #din djaren x reader #din djaren imagine #the child #grogu #pedro pascal x reader #Pedro Pascal

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writingwithacupoftea · 4 years

Text

Comfort Blanket

Summary: It is up to Tommy and Y/N Shelby to keep the family together after their Mother’s death. They discover along the way that sometimes a comfort blanket is an object and other times it’s a feeling...

Word Count: 1891

Prompt: “There’s no place for us to sleep at night.” (part of @smallheathgangsters 1k followers party 💜)

A/N: This ended up being way more festive than I anticipated but, hey ho, it’s less than 3 month til Christmas now! I’ve also definitely taken some liberties with the whole pre-series story and ages and stuff but oh well. I’ve wanted to write a piece based on the blanket in this gif for a while now, so this prompt just worked perfectly for it!

Congratulations again, Leah, on the 1k milestone - it’s so well deserved, and here's to 1k more 🥳 I hope you and everyone else enjoys my little contribution to the celebration ❤️

(gif by @nofckingfighting)

The Shelby clan had never known darker times than the months following their mother's death.

Their father was more absent than ever before. Arthur Shelby Junior was still hopelessly trailing around after him. John had fled to Martha's house, seeking comfort in her arms. Ada was distraught, and everyone had given up trying to guess what her next move would be, for entering her teenage years had made her even more unpredictable than ever anyway. Between looking after Finn and working as much as her brother would allow, Polly was permanently exhausted.

Tommy felt like he was drowning alongside his mother, burdened with the responsibility of trying to look after his family as best he could whilst grieving.

That left Y/N. Born just a year after Tommy, she was the one he turned to when he needed a break. Whether it was to cry and mourn the loss of his beloved mother, or taking charge when all Tommy wanted to do was sleep after a long day's work, Y/N was always there. She picked up the pieces for all of her siblings, and was the oil that kept the cogs of the machine turning.

One night, Tommy and Y/N found themselves alone in the parlour, relishing in the moments of quiet that had fallen after the rest of the family had gone to bed. It was at these times that the pair confided in each other, whether it was their own news or that of their siblings.

Tonight, so far, they had sat in silence. But Y/N knew that Tommy would tell her something soon, and also knew that Tommy would be able to sense that she had something to tell him. It was all a matter of who would speak first.

"I don't know what to do, Y/N/N." Tommy had taken the leap this time.

"Don't know what to do about what?" Her brother's confession had surprised Y/N: Tommy always had a plan for everything.

"I'm doing everything I can to provide for us all and it's still not enough, even though I've taken every fucking job I can find. The lock on the door is still broken from when Dad came home drunk the other night, and the window next to Finn's nursery hasn't been mended yet from when John accidentally smashed it with his ball. Polly's had to take all of the spare blankets for him so that he doesn't get sick. We can't afford to buy any more. There's no place for us to sleep at night. Not somewhere that's safe and warm, anyway."

Y/N sighed. "First of all, Tom, and this is important, so you'd better fucking pay attention to me." Y/N was pleased to see that he let out a slight laugh at that. "You're doing an amazing job at all of this. We're all so grateful for everything you're doing, even if I'm the only one that will actually say it out loud. We couldn't ask any more of you, Tommy.

"Secondly, I may be able to help you – now, don't get mad!" Y/N added this last part hurriedly, having seen Tommy's eyebrows quickly shoot up. Taking a deep breath, Y/N broke the news. "Harry has given me a job...as a barmaid in the Garrison."

"What?!" Tommy jumped out of his seat, looking down at Y/N in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? If you think I'm going to let you work there with all those drunk idiots every night, then you'd better think again."

"If you think you can tell me what I can and can't do, then you'd fucking better think again, Thomas," Y/N retorted, as her brother began to pace up and down the room. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm an adult now and can make my own decisions. Anyway, I've worked everything out and I have a plan to put to you."

Tommy sat down again, not taking his eyes off his younger sister.

"You're working yourself into the ground, Tommy, and quite frankly we can't afford for you to be ill, so you need to get some more rest." The man in question opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off immediately by Y/N. "I want you to give up a couple of your jobs – some of them only pay a pittance, whilst my wage alone would cover that and a little more. I want you to put more time and energy into building up our Dad's business. I've got this feeling that it could become so much more, and you're the one that will make it happen, Tommy, I just know it!"

The second eldest Shelby brother sighed, his head falling heavily into his hands. He had to admit, Y/N's plan sounded incredibly tempting. But still, doubts invaded his thoughts, namely his concerns over his sister working in the Garrison of all places and the question of what if it all failed? What if they ended up in a worse position than they were in now?

With two words from Y/N, however, he was convinced: "Trust me."

"Fine. We'll give it a go on one condition – if any of those fuckers at the pub ever, and I mean ever, give you any bother whatsoever, you tell me straight away. Alright?"

Y/N smiled softly at her brother, pleased with the outcome of their conversation. "Alright," she whispered in agreement, reaching over to grab his hand.

"Thank you, Y/N." Tommy's voice broke through the silence, his sincerity as clear as day.

"We're going to be alright, Tom. One day, we won't have to worry about everyone being safe and warm in their beds. It might take some time, but we'll get there eventually."

Tommy nodded, almost imperceptibly, before slowly getting up to make his way to his own bed, only stopping to place a gentle kiss to his sister's forehead.

All they could do now was pray that Y/N would be right once again.

***

About a year later, their prayers were beginning to be answered.

Business at the betting shop was flourishing, and the Shelby's were gaining more respect by the day. It was all illegal, of course, but all that mattered to Tommy and Y/N was that enough money was rolling in to look after the family.

As Christmas drew nearer, their house was beginning to feel more like a home again for the first time since their mother passed. Fires roared in the hearth at night, they had finally been able to make the repairs that the house so desperately needed, and the family seemed to be happy.

The future looked brighter for the Shelby clan, and it was a sight that Y/N was overjoyed to have before her. Her plan had worked, the dark circles beneath Tommy's eyes were melting away and her Christmas present for him was finally ready.

Despite Tommy's arguments that she didn't need to stay on at the Garrison anymore, Y/N had decided to keep her job there. Surprisingly, she'd discovered that she was rather good at bar work and had been immensely satisfied when her brothers had entered the pub on one of their 'check-ups' on her to witness her chucking a couple of drunks out onto the street by the scruffs of their neck. Y/N liked earning her own money, rather than relying on Tommy, and it meant that no questions were asked about how she was spending it.

Most of her wages had gone towards Tommy's present, and Y/N could only hope that he liked it. The closer and closer that it got to the big day, the more Y/N began to doubt it. But she'd put too much work into it to turn back now.

She had decided against leaving it under the tree, not wanting anyone to be ridiculed for it, and instead kept it a secret in her room. So, on the night of the 25th, Y/N padded down the stairs to meet Tommy alone in the parlour.

"I thought you'd be in bed by now." Tommy was smiling up at her from his seat on the sofa.

"You know I'm always too excited at Christmas to get much sleep." Her brother rolled his eyes fondly at Y/N's reminder. "Anyway, I have one more present to give out."

Tommy's brows furrowed in confusion. "But we all opened your presents earlier, Y/N/N?"

"Yes, yes, I know – you don't need to make this any more embarrassing for me than it already is!."

The man in question chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender.

Y/N sat down next to her brother, and handed him the carefully wrapped package. "Happy Christmas, Tommy," she said, gently. As he began to open it, Y/N's nervous rambling automatically began. "Now, if you don't like it, just tell me. I won't be offended! I can find something else to do with it. It's not really your colours, now I think about it, and - "

"Y/N do you want me to open this or not?" Tommy snapped, but his eyes were full of fondness for his younger sister.

"Yes," Y/N replied, meekly.

Tommy pulled away the last of the wrapping to find a thick patchwork blanket, which was clearly handmade. Speechless at the thought and care put into the gift, he asked the only question that was running through his head: "Why?"

"I wanted to give you something special to say thank you for everything you've done for us since Mum died. Also, I'm not stupid, you know." At Tommy's confused expression, Y/N elaborated. "Nearly every morning before we got the house fixed up, I used to wake up with double the amount of blankets on top of me compared to how many I went to bed with. Your blankets, Tommy, when we barely had enough to share between us all in the first place. So I wanted to make you one myself that is yours and yours alone.

"You said to me once that we had nowhere to sleep at night that was safe and warm, but you created that place for us, for me. I know we've got plenty of blankets in the house now, but I just wanted to try and give you that same feeling of comfort that you gave to me." She stopped talking at that, suddenly aware of how long she had been going on for.

Tommy held the warm fabric in his hands, his thumb tracing the messy stitching which held each patch together, trying to blink away the tears glazing his eyes. "I love it, sweetheart. Thank you."

A relieved smile lit Y/N's face, but it was quickly replaced by a loud yawn. She gently rested her head on Tommy's shoulder as she curled her legs up on the sofa, and he wrapped his arm around her.

"Happy Christmas, Tom," Y/N mumbled sleepily.

"Happy Christmas, Y/N/N," Tommy replied with a smile.

Moments later, Y/N's breathing had evened out and she had fallen into a deep slumber. Tommy's eyes flitted between her sleeping form and the beautiful blanket on his knee.

Maybe he could share his blanket with his sister just one more time...

#smallheathgangsters1kcelebration #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #shelby sister #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders sister #peaky blinders x sister!reader #tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby x sister!reader #tommy shelby x reader #shelby!reader #shelby sis #shelby!sister

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ezrasarm · 3 years

Text

Only You

Pairing: Frankie Morales x demi fem!reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Frankie stands up for you when Tom acts out of line.

Warnings: Conflict, Tom being a dick, swearing, ✨protective✨ Frankie, fluff

A/N: There seemed to be some interest in a continuation of More Than Friends and a thought popped into my head so here it is! This is set an undefined period of time after More Than Friends. If you would like to learn more about demisexuality there are some wonderful resources here at demisexuality.org and my inbox is always open if you’re curious …or you have HC ideas ...or just want to scream. AH! I almost forgot to thank @dishonouringmycow for beta reading, helping me with ideas and the ‘plot a murder’ line!

[Masterlist]

“You’re a woman, right?” Tom says abruptly from across the table a few moments after the conversation seemed to have lulled itself to a pause. Taking a few moments to notice you were in fact the only apparent woman at the table for him to be addressing, you nodded.

“Last I checked, yeah.” You laugh, as Tom hunches over a little more to look down at his drink.

“Can I get an opinion on something?” He asks, glancing up at you as he resettled his grip on the bottle between his hands. You give Frankie, who was sat next to you in the booth with an arm looped around your shoulders a subtly confused glance to see if he knew what this was about only to get a shrug in return.

“I’ll try my best,” you say as he reaches for his phone and places it in front of you to swipe between two photos. You didn’t exactly know who they were of, but you recognized what was happening immediately. Tom had talked your ears off about his wife’s affair at this point. He was obsessed and while you, Frankie and the rest of the guys had tried to be supportive at first, it was becoming more and more of a concern to you all. You had thought you would bring it up with him tonight when you saw him but when you got to the bar and he seemed fine- cheerful even, you thought maybe he had made some progress. Maybe you didn’t need to intervene. That was until you looked down at the phone.

“Tom,” You sigh, looking between the pictures of two men you had never seen before. The ones you assumed he suspected his wife was cheating on him with. “I’m not Molly.” You say with a sympathetic look in your eye when you look up at him again.

“Yeah, yeah, but if you had to choose.“ He said, waving away your comment to swipe between the two photos for you again. To choose? Choose what? Which one seemed most likely to wear flip flops instead of sneakers? Which one you would lend a quarter for a shopping cart at the grocery store? Which one you’d choose to help you plot a murder? You knew what he meant but you didn’t see how your answer would help, or if you even had an answer to give.

“I don’t know, they’re both good-looking I guess.” You shrug.

“Just pick one.” He insists a little more forcefully than before. You knew he wasn’t always the happiest drunk but you had never seen him this way before and you weren’t a fan.

“I think there’s a lot more that goes into your wife’s decision to sleep with another man than appearances.” You interjected. You didn’t know Molly particularly well and you weren’t defending her but you knew Tom hadn’t been acting like much of a husband in recent years and who were you to blame if she went looking for affection elsewhere.

“You’re overcomplicating the question.” He groans in frustration. “Don’t worry about Frankie, he’s got thick skin. He knows you’re looking.” Looking? Looking at what exactly? The ceiling? The ground? The bottom of your glass in hopes that if you couldn’t see him, he wouldn’t see you and you might be able to drop the subject? You’d hardly noticed the way your hand squeezed Frankie’s a little tighter under the table much less if it was reassurance for him or yourself but you could feel your patience running thinner as what had started out as mild irritation morphed into sheer discomfort with the situation.

“Tom, I know nothing about these people!” You scoff far more defensive than you had been before. You didn’t want to have to make up an answer but you were getting pretty darn close. You could understand aesthetically. Guy number one’s hair was nice to look at, guy number two had kind eyes, guy number one had a little bit of scruff that reminded you of Frankie, guy number two wore a Black Keys shirt that you liked. None of these things made you feel anything though. Not like Frankie did. But Frankie wasn’t the answer to the question Tom was pressing you with.

“No- Just at a glance, gut reaction, which one would you rather fuck?” He says and you’re not sure if your mouth drops from the shock of him asking you that point-blank or at the gall he would need to have had to ask you such a thing in front of your boyfriend but before you can even think to come up with an answer, Frankie steps in.

“Tom!” He snaps. “She doesn’t want to answer the question! Now back off.” He says quite firmly. Something you knew wasn’t easy for him given that he was a close friend and someone he looked up to. He thinks that should be the end of it but Tom is quick to try and wave it off as though Frankie was the one acting out of line.

“C’mon man! Let her speak for herself!“ He says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat a little more.

“Tom, you’re drunk, you’re pissed off and you’re hurting but that does not give you the right to harass my girlfriend!”

“Harass your girlfriend? All I did was ask her a question-”

“Her answer is not going to change what happened!” Frankie just shy of shouts, managing to turn a couple of heads from nearby tables. You realize now that the frustration that had been building up over Tom’s pity party for the past three months had been affecting Frankie as bad if not worse than it had you. “It’s not!” He reiterates a little quieter now as though trying to recover from his sudden outburst. “Your wife screwed another man. That fucking sucks but it’s not going to undo itself anytime soon. So I don’t know what you need to do to process that but you’ve gotta get this out of your system and figure out a game plan for what you’re gonna do next because you are making it harder and harder for us to feel sorry for you right now.” Frankie lets out a heavy sigh and a slight shake to his head when he brings the bottle that his grip had tightened on so much throughout the conversation that his knuckles had gone white, up to his lips.

You watch as Tom’s jaw ticks to the side and he smooths a hand over his face, a minuscule nod as his gaze drops to the table. The silence hangs thick in the air for what feels like an eon until Benny shoulders into the booth on the other side of you just about squishing you against Frankie who has since adopted a similar posture to Tom.

“Who died?” He asks, tossing you a goofy look that makes a smile tempt your lips as you shake your head and Will slides in across the table from you.

“No one.” You assure him as you graciously accept the fresh drink Will places in front of you. “Speaking of not dead... Anyone heard from Santiago recently? It’s been a while, he’s got me worried.” You say in an attempt to change the topic despite you and Frankie both knowing you had spoken to him hardly 24 hours ago. Your attention seems to slip away from the response though when Frankie’s hand squeezes your knee in a silent thank you and you let your face tug into a soft smile when you look up at him, content that you’ve successfully changed the topic and made it stick.

***

“I’m sorry,” You hear Frankie say from next to you as you make your way out the door armed with the excuse of having to work in the morning when in reality you could sense that you and Frankie both were getting a little tired of being social tonight.

“For what?” You ask, brows furrowed in confusion as the cool air hits you and you plunge your hands into the pockets of your jacket.

“I’m sorry he was being such a jerk to you in there.” Frankie clarifies and you find yourself stopping halfway across the slowly emptying paring lot to turn and face him.

“He’s going through a lot right now.” You reply carefully, your exasperation from earlier having worn off by now only to leave the pity you had felt when he let his gaze drop after Frankie had told him off.

“That’s not an excuse for his behaviour though.” Frankie insists and you nod.

“Maybe not.” You muse. “But I know how much he means to you and I don’t want to get between that.” You shrug. “He needs you.” You say. “He needed to hear that from you.” You clarify, reaching your hand out to lock your fingers in his. Knowing Frankie he’s likely beating himself up over snapping at him like that already when you’re sure his conscience should be clear. He did everything right. “Thank you for standing up for me.” You smile on a lighter note and watch as a similar expression brightens up his features.

“You know I’ve always got your back, right?” He asks and you nod in return, hardly realizing the way your feet have managed to shuffle you closer to him as he dips his head down to kiss you. You can just about feel his breath fanning your upper lip when-

Bonk

The bill of his cap collides with your eyebrow and you both break out laughing, your hand bracing you on his arm as you hunch over in hysterics and you wind up stumbling slightly with the few drinks in you before you bump into his chest which still shakes as he holds you to him in an attempt to keep you both from toppling over. You’ve hardly recovered before he musters a “Is this better?” and you glance up to see the salt-stained cap placed backwards on his head instead which only makes you burst out laughing again as you flip it around to place it backwards on your own head.

“I far prefer being able to do this anyway.” You hum through your persisting smile when you slide your hands up to tangle your fingers in his messy hair.

“This is a good look for you.” He teases, eyelids lazy with contentment as his hands grip your hips and tug you just a little closer to him.

“You’re a dork.” You beam with an amiable shake of your head “Let me kiss you.” You plea and he obliges.

You pick Frankie.

[Masterlist]

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