#not going to add a little reblog thing today. I’m giving you a hug

[raining-starshine]

I miss you already 🌹

#technoblade #technofanart #technoblade fanart #techno #dsmp #dream SMP #technoblade never dies #artists on tumblr #ok to rb #do the arts #good game blood god… #god. sorry guys I’m still really in the depths of it all. I miss him more than anything #I just feel quiet. not gonna talk about it too much I think. but I wanted to make something #will probable draw more when I listen to Will’s stream later #take care of yourselves my loves. #don’t worry he’s off to fight god #I probably shouldn’t post this at a random time but I will anyway #not going to add a little reblog thing today. I’m giving you a hug

[intherainbowfactory]

We are gathered here today, to pay tribute to @woo-catwaffles-deactivated20230, whose blog was cut tragically short mere days ago.

He was a frienly boy, who would give you a big hug. They were a devoted and talented artist, with a great heart and a love for the LGBTQ+ and disabled community. They created many original posts: commissions, of which they did freely and without bond, whenever they were able to. They reblogged many fandoms and many posts that might not have reached a higher status if it weren't for their intervention.

@woo-catwaffles. @woo-catwaffles. @woo-catwaffles.

They mattered in this site. Their interactions gave me and many others a simple smile, and it is a terrible loss to see them gone. Their followers and mutuals will miss them dearly.

In memory of their legacy, I will now post the first 6000 words of the Day Off With Fluttershy free writing commission I was working on for them.

Fluttershy and human reader, on a day off…

-search for bugs, 

-bird watching (i like mourning birds & doves & pigeons ^-^), 

-play hide and seek, 

and then build a fort :3c ?

Reader = dress over tuxedo

Discord and angel bunny exist, maybe.

Perspective: Second person

Tags: Slice of life

Below here be the Story, ay?

“Okay darling, just a little bit more and we’re done,” Rarity mutters apologetically as she adjusts your shoulder seam with a needle and orange silk. It’s the third time she’s done so. You thought your handsome (if a bit frilly) orange gown with the belt-thing get-up looked perfectly fine an hour ago.

An hour ago.

You don’t know how much more of this you can take. All the constant standing, posing, strutting, and running to test for wear in formal ballroom dresses and stuffy business suits… it’s just been getting really old. You’ve been modeling for Rarity in eight-hour shifts for three weeks, six days, two hours, and forty-seven minutes now, not that anyone was counting. The money’s been good, at least, but you really wish there were some more fulfilling job for a human in Equestria than modeling for a crazed and bored fashionista’s whims.

Rarity apparently reads your mind, saying in a soothing voice, “I know you’ve been rather tired of all these adjustments, but I absolutely have to fix this one thing, and then I promise I’ll be done with it.”

“So you say now…” you riposte under your breath, grinding your teeth.

A couple more magicked stitches of silk and she says, “And… done,” taking off her glasses with her hoof to inspect her handiwork for a minute. Satisfied, she levitates her supplies to her messy desk. You sit down in your jeans and t-shirt that Rarity made to order for you (for free!) and are about to ask her what’s next when she turns to you with a soft smile and says, “You’re free to go for today, darling.” 

At the confused look on your face, she smugly adds, “What, you thought I would really keep you here any longer? I may strive to put as much time and effort into my pieces as possible and I may be, well, a workaholic,” she looks sheepish, “but you really need to take some time off from work to just enjoy yourself and hang out with others!”

You weakly protest, “But what about the rest of my—”

“Oh, I’ll still pay you full hours for today,” she giggles. “We can say I’m paying you to stress-test that outfit you have on now. Now go have some fun! Play around in the grass, go out for ice cream… gasp! Maybe even go on a date!” She turns a hopeful smile on you with glitter in her eyes, her matchmaker instinct inflamed.

You just snort and stand up, walking to your bright orange dress of inspiration. “Eh. Well, alright. If you’re sure my outfit’s done.”

“Oh, don’t you worry about that, (y/n)! I’m positive that you’ll look absolutely stunning at the Spring Flower Formal in Canterlot.”

You blink. “Is that what this was for?”

“Oh yes,” she absentmindedly states as she begins to levitate a ponyquin and some black fabric in front of her, squinting at it with her glasses. “With how few orders I’ve been getting recently, I’ve made a little game out of designing the dresses or suits a pony would need for each occasion and then predicting ahead of time which ones would actually need to be made. It seems that I was correct, this time.”

“That’s pretty amazing! Even more so considering I haven’t even told anybody I was thinking of going…” You frown and squint suspiciously at the gown, which really does seem like it would perfectly complement the bright, vibrant tones of the flowers of spring. “But now that I think about it,” you say tentatively, “I’m not sure if I should be more impressed or disturbed.”

“You should be more disturbed if it will help you get out of here and into the spring sun more quickly,” Rarity riposted smugly. “After all, it is hardly good form to hang around your place of employment on your day off. I’ve also still got some work of my own that I need to finish, and I very well can’t have you here distracting me while I’m busy making a dress for Twilight to wear to the Vernal Equinox Festival.”

You raise an eyebrow. “She’s getting dressed for the spring equinox?”

Rarity looks at her ponyquin clad in black and delicate shades of purple and back at you with a raised eyebrow of her own. “She is now.”

You exchange goodbyes, grab your coat, and step outside to the sleepy morning streets of Ponyville. A chill wind blows through the air, only kept in check by an unusually bright and sunny sky. The pegasi, at least, did their jobs this morning.

Maybe Fluttershy would want to hang out…

Knocking on the door to Fluttershy’s cottage, you take a moment to truly breathe in the natural environment. The air here feels crisper and unseasonably warmer (but not uncomfortably so) than that of the hamlets of Ponyville, and it seems to just exquisitely fill you up with something that you were missing by being shut up indoors for the past couple days.

You hear a little movement from the other side of the door. Good, Fluttershy’s home. You were wondering if she would be staying home at this time of day. 

Or, well… she’s usually at home tending to her animals, but upon scanning the lush grass highlands around Fluttershy’s little hobbit house, you don’t really see any animals. Or smell them, either. Definitely odd. It could be chalked up to the mammals hibernating for the winter-come-spring, but your recollection of how the town of Ponyville woke up the slumbering bunnies for their Winter Wrap-Up puts that theory to rest. 

The birdhouses placed haphazardly on Fluttershy’s mossy roof also seem to be empty, and, now that you think about it, you couldn’t hear any birds calling out to each other on the path to her house. Curiouser and curiouser…

Suddenly, the door swings open to reveal a truly thick black bear sitting on Fluttershy’s threshold and watching you impassively.

“Ah,” you say. 

The bear, easily matching your height while being more than triple your weight, turns his head down while looking up at you, showing the whites of his eyes like a bored puppy. You rack your brains for any information that could help on the specifics of social interactions with bears, but come up quite short. Just when you’re starting to feel foolish standing on the threshold with your mouth opening and closing, you remember a vital piece of information.

“Your name’s Hank, isn’t it?” you ask.

The bear nods.

“...Cool. Is Fluttershy here?”

The bear nods again and gets up from the floor, revealing his true breadth as he takes a few steps and looks back expectantly, waiting a few awkward moments before you follow him inside.

Fluttershy’s living room has been, apparently, cleaned to within an inch of its life. The floor has been waxed, the cushions and rugs have been reupholstered, it looks like, and the dog bed at the corner of the stairs has been completely erased.

From what you remember to be the kitchen, you barely hear the soft cadence of Fluttershy whispering, “Who is it, Hank?” before you round the corner with the bear himself and the kitchen comes into view. The kitchen is immaculately clean, incredibly so, the dishes and glasses lying on the table sparkle with a mirror-shine. The butter pegasus—Fluttershy herself—is hard at work washing a tea set, with her long pink mane tied into a hairnet so her hair wouldn’t get wet.

She turns to face you and gives a little self-conscious smile that utterly warms your heart and banishes the last vestiges of cold from your body. It’d be cliché to say that her magic and that of nature revived your soul, but considering that she’s the Element of Kindness, there probably was some magic involved. (It might have also been the smell of fresh-cooked bacon lingering in the air.)

“Good morning, (y/n). Oh!” Her expression turns to one of shock before her sheepish smile turns to a sheepish frown and she puts a dish into the sink to paw at the ground. “Um, sorry, but you were a little too late to have tea with me and Hank the Bear here.”

“Sorry…” she repeats, hiding behind her mane.

“Aaarg!” Your heart threatens to give out on you due to Fluttershy’s sheer adorableness.

“Oh, my! Are you okay?” Immediately, she’s hovering at your side with eyes wide, her hoof poking at your chest where your hands had flung themselves over your heart in protection. “Are you hurt anywhere? Oh no! Don’t tell me you ate another poisonous flower!” She baps the side of her head onto the right side of your chest to hear your heartbeat with her ear, but gently, and with only enough force to remind you of a cat’s headbutt.

Pretty soft, 9/10, would recommend. After a few moments, her eyes open wildly and she floats right in front of you. “Oh, no! I can’t feel your heartbeat!” she cries. “What was the color of the flower you ate? How many petals did it have? Oh, no, we have to go to Zecora’s hut to get you an antidote, (y/n)!”

“I, uh—heh heh. Ha ha ha ha ha ha!” You have to hold your stomach to keep the laughter from bursting out.

Fluttershy, bless her heart, spins around to Hank in a panic. “Oh, no, no, no, no, no! Hank, they’re convulsing from the poison! We’ve gotta get them out of here! Here, (y/n), sit on Hank. We’ll take you to Zecora’s,” she says, her hoof slung over your shoulder and nudging you forward a step.

Hank snarls at Fluttershy. Before this point, you almost forgot how dangerous bears were.

She swung in front of the bear, hoof pointed at him as he gazed evenly at her. “Now, don’t be like that, mister! They do not smell like garbage!” That got you to do a double take. “We have to get them to Zecora’s hut, and quickly, because we have to help them,” she says, leveling her Stage Two stare at the humongous mammal that could probably send her flying into the stratosphere if he wanted to. 

Hank snorts out a sigh and stares at me with his eyebrows fixed at you in such a way to make sure you knows he’s annoyed at you. Well, at least Fluttershy has nothing to worry about from him, you think.

You gingerly grab Fluttershy’s hoof from her shoulder, idly noting that it’s about as fluffy as a dog’s paw compared to some of the other ponies, and bring her gently to the ground with a smile. 

“Woah, there, girl. I’m completely fine, Fluttershy,” you say.

“Really?” She examines you with concern in her eyes. “But then why couldn’t I feel a heartbeat?”

“Because, uh, my heart’s on the left side of my body…?” you point out.

“Oh.” She hangs her head low with shame. “Sorry. I might have panicked a little… I was just worried ever since,” she hesitates, “you know, when you first got here—”

“Oof. Don’t remind me,” you say. Those times were really rough. Getting dropped into the middle of the woods with a sudden lack of cell service during the night, having to forage for food and live in a cave like an animal. The nightmarish timberwolves… 

…You shudder at the imagery the memory dredges up, the core of green light in the soulless freakish golem alike to luminescent worms writhing around the heart of a real wolf, how its husks of eyes flashed before your own when it lunged towards you.

Your reaction doesn’t escape her notice, and she begins to tear up. “I’m sorry…” she murmurs.

Awww! You can’t let this happen! You just gotta cheer her up! Besides, you’re starting to feel kinda bad for laughing earlier while she thought you might’ve been poisoned. You crouch down onto your knees to hug her, which she’s surprised about, at first, but she eventually hugs you back.

She’s warm, warmer than the early spring sunlight outside her cottage. Her coat brushes against you, and you can definitely feel how her fur is longer and fluffier than any other pony’s, not to mention softer! The fog of the horrors of the past recede from your mind, allowing you to think clearly and exuberantly for the first time in… days, perhaps? 

Your troubles and worries seem to fade into obscurity as the mere fact of you being there for someone who was hurting, and someone being there for you in kind, lifts your mood, directing your gaze not into the shadowy caverns of the past put into stark contrast by fear’s lantern, but to the glittering stars in the unknowable sky of the future, and ever above the concerns of the material…

Fluttershy’s tears flow on your shoulders. “It’s okay,” you say, petting her head with inscrutable tears forming in your eyes. “I’m fine. I hardly think about that anymore. And when I do, I remember that I’m surrounded by friends now.”

Fluttershy looks up at your chest with mixed feelings evident. “Are you sure you’re okay, (y/n)? I mean, you did seem like you were hurting earlier.”

That was pretty embarrassing… “Oh, uh, I was just a little bit hungry. That’s it.”

Hank snorts at this. You almost forgot he was even here, and you stand up and wheel around in primal worry at the realization that he, in all his two-ton glory, could have effortlessly punted you across the universe at any time that struck his fancy while you were crouched down like that.

Fluttershy senses your anxiety, and, distracted from the prospect of your death, she says, “Oh, don’t worry about Hank. You two just need to get familiar with each other and he’ll be perfectly friendly to you. Here, let him sniff your hand.”

If he could, Hank would reiterate how much he dislikes the smell of humans. As it is, Hank just turns up his nose at you and saunters off to the living room.

Relief fills your body and your facial muscles relax at the bear being out of sight—not because you think he’s dangerous, though. It’s just instinct. Fluttershy, however, frowns after the retreating bear. “Oh…”

After an awkward moment, she looks at you apologetically and says, “Well, um, even after everything, it’s still nice to see you. Especially since almost everycreature else is gone and I’ve got a lot of free time today.”

“Oh yeah,” you muse, “I thought there weren’t as many animals around as I remembered there being before… What’s up with that?”

“I can tell you more about it over tea, if you want,” she says, pointing a foreleg over to the table, before she looks over and realizes it’s bare. “Oh…” Fluttershy looks despondent.

“Don’t worry, Fluttershy!” To reassure her, you move over to the sink full of the tea set dishes and roll up your sleeves, grabbing a dry towel and putting on a well-fitting apron. “If you wash the dishes and I dry them, we can get set up for tea in no time!”

“Okay. But only if you want to…” Fluttershy murmurs.

You give her a heartfelt smile. “It’s nothing, really. And having lunch after having to work for it just makes the lunch even better.”

Fluttershy puts on the hairnet again and moves over to your left to start rinsing out one teacup of a trio. “I don’t know. If your chest was really hurting so bad from being so hungry, you should probably avoid working or anything like that until I can get you something to eat,” she whispers. “I still feel really bad for all of… that, that just happened.”

You take a dry cloth to the dishes that were already hanging, getting them bone-dry in moments. “Awww, you’ve been completely fine, Fluttershy. If anything, I was the one who made things worse by, uh, being so dramatic about things. Whatever. Hey, if you wanna repay me, you could cook up some of that bacon I was smelling earlier,” you say hopefully.

Fluttershy giggles and gets to work on the very same bacon-greased plate that Hank was eating off of. “Oh, my. I forgot you ate meat. It’s just so difficult to think of you as anything but a stallion. Er, no offense…”

You snort. “I guess this means I’ve really integrated into pony society, huh?” You pick up a piece of hay from a dried plate and look at it. “Not that I would want to really stay here all my life. It’s too hard to come by a decent meal in Ponyville, not being able to eat grass or flowers off the street and all—I’m not gonna try to eat any more flowers, I promise,” you reassure Fluttershy when she glances sidelong at you with worry.

…But now that you think about it, what would the grass and hay here even taste like? Maybe it’s very nutritious and tasty, which is why all the ponies graze on it so often. Sneaking a quick glance out the window to see how edible the grass would be, your face again warms up in the sudden glow of spring sunbeams shining down on Fluttershy’s cottage.

You light up. “Fluttershy,” you ask her, “do you want to have a picnic outside instead of tea?”

She beams at you. “Oh, that would be wonderful! I was even planning to do some looking at nature later. Most of the diurnal migratory morning birds should be flying back to Ponyville today, and we can watch for them and catalog them—and sing with them!” she exclaims. “Er, that is, if you’re fine with it…”

You take the corners of a damp tea cozy and fold it along the middle. Its hanging curve roughly approximates the smile on your face on hearing that information. “I love that idea!” you gush. All the tea set dishes have been washed and dried. “You know what we could do today? It’s the same thing I do every morning, Flutters…”

“Um, ‘Try to take over the world’?”

You wheel around to Fluttershy, shocked. “What??” you ask.

“Oh, um, You said that one time at game night with the girls. I remember we were all pretty scared of you when you said that in a weird voice, and Rainbow Dash almost fought you over it like you really were going to try to take over Equestria.” She looks conflicted. “Oh, or was it that you said you try to take over the world every night?”

Damn, it’s been a long time since you’ve thought about Pinky and the Brain. Might be a good idea to write a play or a book or something about that for Equestria.

“That’s more of a human thing. Just a figure of speech, really. Anyway,” you pat your apron and untie it, “I was thinking more along the lines of looking for cool bugs after the picnic. Could you get the basket while I try to whip us up some sandwiches?”

“Ah, yeah, (y/n),” she excitedly whinnies as she trots away. You may have become more familiar with pony culture and the way the ponies look, but that will never not be adorable.

Fluttershy insists on carrying the picnic basket on her back, citing her worries at how having to carry it might hurt your fragile human back. This piece of business over with, the conversation level drops to the sweet bliss of nothingness, and the pair of you start on your journey through the forest.

The two of you are content to walk in silence along the path as you bask in the natural wiles around you. Fluttershy has a small smile on her face. You can’t help but grin a little at sharing company with a good friend of yours, just freely passing the time in another’s company without any obligations of having to partake in society or entertain other ponies with ostentatious parties. Here, it’s just you, Fluttershy, and the creatures of the Freedom Forest Valley nature trail.

However, after a minute, you start to get disturbed at how quiet it is out here. It’s not that the silence between you and Fluttershy was becoming awkward; if anything, it was soothing on your nerves and your head after having spent such a stretch of time as Rarity’s personal rubber duck to bounce ideas off of. It’s just that the silence between yourself and the critters of the forest was stretching on for long enough to be noticeable.

You frown and turn to your companion, stopping both of your advances. “Hey, Fluttershy?”

She turns to you in kind and frowns as well. “What is it, (y/n)?”

“Does it seem kind of… quiet outside, to you at all?”

She embarrassedly looks at the dirt path and paws at a branch of leaves under her hooves. “I thought you might notice. Most of the creatures of the forest have… gone somewhere else.” She sighs and mutters, “I just wish Discord didn’t decide to take them out of their natural environment for the show…”

Alarm bells start to ring in your head. You wholecloth forgot that he lived with Fluttershy until she brought him back up. But where is he, and what is he doing—what could he be doing away from Fluttershy’s watchful eye? “Discord?” you ask her.

“Oh, yes.” The two of you resume walking. “There’s an animal show happening in Fillydelphia right now. It’s an annual convention, and I just somehow forgot about it this year until it was too late to let the critters take a part in it. Oh, it’s just so wonderful every year!” She gushes, “It lets all the animals in the forest and around Ponyville present themselves to get awards while they network with others to find out what’s happening in everycreature’s lives and all around the world!”

“Hang on.” There’s a massive fallen tree obstructing the path. It wouldn’t be feasible to go around it, so you take the picnic basket from Fluttershy, put it on the other side, and carry Fluttershy with you as you vault it. “So you were too late to get any animals over there in time?”

Fluttershy jumps out of your arms and takes the picnic basket onto her back again. “Oh, yes. But Discord was kind enough to take them to the show in time with his teleportation magic. I did have to get him to Pinkie Promise not to take the animals that didn’t want to go, and to protect the animals that did go while making sure that they all made it back.” She spots something to the side of the trail and trots over to it, waving you over with a hoof.

“Wow,” you say unsurely as you veer off the path toward her. “Did he really take all the rabbits? All the chickens and wolves? Harry, too? Cuz if he took as many animals to Fillydelphia as I think he took, then he really must have brought down the house with them all.”

“Well, he didn’t take all the wolves, at least. Oh dear...” Worry dances through Fluttershy’s wingtips as she does a little steppy. “You don’t think he’s causing too much chaos over there?”

Discord’s a bit of a sore subject for you. “He probably is, in all honesty,” you tell her, and then reassure her by saying, “But I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t take it too far. Anyway, what did you want to show me?”

Fluttershy points at a mossy-bottomed rock with ferns growing on top of it in a cavity. “Look,” she says.

You look at the rock, which is about the same size as Fluttershy. You look back to Fluttershy. “It’s very pretty,” you say truthfully. “What is it?”

“It’s a rock,” Fluttershy says.

Damn, she’s good! “No, I mean, what’s up with it?”

Fluttershy perks up. “Oh! Right. This is an igneous shale rock, rich in minerals from being composed of magma and very amenable to being a habitat for microorganisms, nutritious fronds, and herbivorous crawlers to hole up in. Sorry, I just figured that if you wanted to see some insects, this would be as good a place as any to find some,” she explains while letting the basket down onto the ground.

Your eyes light up. “Nahhh, s’all good,” you tell her, “so how can we get a peek at some of them? Lift up the boulder?”

Fluttershy shakes her head. “Oh, no,” she says, “that would be rude. We can just knock on the rock and see who comes up to answer. I do it all the time when I have to wake them up for Winter Wrap-Up.”

“Really? Huh. I’ve never thought about that before.” You sit on the wet, grassy ground next to the boulder and give it a gentle tap with your knuckles, looking to Fluttershy for approval. She sits opposite you with picnic basket balanced evenly on her back and gives a big reassuring smile that turns into something softer but just as heartfelt and strikingly giddying as a huge earwig lopes out from under the mass of moss and grass attached to the boulder. 

“Woah!” you exclaim, startled by just how big it is. Forget the Saint Helena, this was an earwig roughly the length and width of your own hand, with its pincers being easily three inches long.

It lazily tilts its head up to stare at you. Fluttershy gently turns her own head to look at you so that she couldn’t possibly scare the earwig away. She’s still smiling, but it’s more subdued now. “Go on, talk to it. Its pincers are harmless; it won’t bite,” she entreaties you.

“Uh… okay.” You smile uncertainly at her and look at the earwig. It’s just staring back at you, antennae twitching around with unknown intent. In order to get closer to it and make it feel more comfortable, and also make yourself more comfortable with the strange thing you’re doing, you lay down on your stomach in front of it in the grass. “Uh, hello?” you ask the earwig nervously.

The earwig waves back at you, filling you with confidence. You continue, “Uh, well, we were just in the neighborhood and I wanted to introduce myself and check in with you, see if you were doing all right, you know… Is this your house?”

The earwig nods and walks forward until they’re right in front of your face. They look at you intently and extend a foreleg to boop your nose rapidly and repeatedly, startling you and making your nose tickle something fierce. “Uh?” you ask Fluttershy, eyes wide and moving to look to her for help with your head staying still to not harm the earwig.

“You’re doing great,” she giggles. “That’s just the way that earwigs greet other creatures,” she says, walking over and lying down to let the earwig poke her muzzle as an example. “See? He likes us.”

“Incredible!” You tell her and then turn to the earwig. “Here,” you say, proffering your finger to the earwig, “this is how humans greet each other. We shake hands—or appendages, in this case. My name’s (y/n). What’s yours?”

The earwig gets the message, and shakes your finger with their leg. However, they don’t say their name, making you feel pretty silly because you genuinely forgot that earwigs couldn’t talk for a solid moment there. Instead, they just turn their gaze to you as a faint hissing emanates from their body.

Fluttershy comes in with the assist again. “Oh, I can translate. She says her name is Light, and she’s asking where humans come from, since she’s never heard of them before, living under a rock and all.”

This is unbelievable! You’re actually talking to an earwig! An earwig called “Light”! The sun is shining pleasantly upon your body, the breeze plays in your hair, the grass is rustling underneath your fingers, soft and cool to the touch with a mild dampness, the ground underneath you is hardy and sturdy, tough and earthy, and real, and you, the human, are currently having a full, rounded conversation with an honest-to-god earwig.

Turning your head to Light, you then say, “I come from Earth! It’s a whole ‘nother planet entirely than this, with rules a lot different than you have here. Say,” you raise an eyebrow at her, which probably doesn’t track, “are you the only bug living here, or is there like a whole apartment full of insects under there?”

Light’s antennae flick around lazily and she retreats back under the rock for a moment, coming back with a few mewling and writhing grubs on her back. “Awww! She’s a mama!” you say to Fluttershy.

Fluttershy looks shocked. “Oh,” she whispers, “so sorry to disturb you, Ms. Light. We should probably get out of your antennae now; I know how rowdy the little earwigs can get when they’re about to turn into nymphs,” she continues in a conspiratoral tone, causing Light to nod sagely.

Light then comes up to you and again rapidly boops your nose. “Let me guess, an earwig goodbye?” you ask Fluttershy sidelong, and she nods slowly. “Awright. Bye, Light!” You wave goodbye at her with a finger and she waves back at you before turning to Fluttershy and booping her as well.

“Don’t be a stranger,” Fluttershy whispers out to Light. “Oh, wait, Ms. Light? Would you happen to know where we could find Pierre? Pierre the moth?”

Again the hissing from Light’s body, which this time gets cut off as one of the fat grubs flops over her face and Light runs over to the rock to contain them again.

“Thank you, Ms. Light!” Fluttershy softly calls after her. “Good luck with your budding nymphs!” And Light the earwig runs back home to her little wriggling grubs.

You get up off the ground and dust off the knees of your jeans, though nothing you do right now would be able to get the wetness off your clothing now. “What’d she say? Also, who’s Pierre? And why the heck would a moth be called Pierre?”

Fluttershy gets up and looks at you in confusion. At least she doesn’t have to worry about her clothes getting wet, since she doesn’t wear any most of the time. “Pierre is an absolutely gorgeous and friendly moth who loves getting visitors. Um, what’s wrong with the name ‘Pierre’?”

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just a bit… strange. Pierre’s like a human name, you know? Like a French name. Whatever, it’s not important,” you say, anxious to change the subject when Fluttershy still just looks at you confused. “Pierre sounds like a perfectly wonderful person—moth, and I’m sure I’d love to see ‘em,” you say. 

“Oh,” Fluttershy grins, “you will! But we better get going. Pierre doesn’t like to be kept waiting past noon. He’s very…” she tilts her head and gives a strange look, “...particular.” And off she goes with the basket, leaving you feeling even odder.

The vibrant red picnic basket on Fluttershy’s back catches your eye again and you instinctively take a deep breath of the early spring air, the faint scent of rain discernable among the scent of the trees, the leaves, and the morning dew. And, of course, the thick smell of bacon catches your nose from the picnic basket like it’s a pie in a cartoon, and you sigh in content.

Now walking alongside Fluttershy back to the path, you give her a tiny satisfied smile. “Hey, girl! Thanks for taking so much thought about where—like, for planning the whole bug-finding thing out. I was probably just gonna look under some logs or something,” you confess, rubbing the back of your neck. “Sorry about all the trouble.”

“Oh, don’t worry. It wasn’t any trouble, (y/n). I mean, I just love the insects of the woods, more than any other pony in Ponyville,” she meekly counter-confesses.

“Awww! You’re just precious, Fluttershy!” You pick up a dry yellow leaf off the ground and offer it to her. “Here, take this cool-looking leaf as a trophy for your pureness, madame.”

“Oh, um, thank you…” she mutters, hiding behind her mane. She takes the leaf from your hand in her mouth and eats it with a crunch. What? 

“Oh, sorry,” she says and smiles bashfully at you before giggling, “I just love the taste of leaves from the ailm tree! I forgot you might not be used to seeing someone eat one…” Huh.

A satisfied silence again falls upon the two of you as you just walk on, the Freedom Forest Valley trail again opening up to your sight and your fluttering heart. In your concern over the little things in life, the bugs, the plants, the upcoming picnic and migration of birds, you almost forgot about the woods and the wildness around you.

A breeze blows through you, pulling your hair and your clothes to the side. There are no birds chirping, which you still find quite unnerving, but you find that there is no end to the interesting things and junk you can see. The infinite complexity of even the smallest things astounds you: the glistening of the drops of dew on the grass and the flowers making the blushes around you glitter in the sunlight, the fractal beauty of the limbs of the tree and how the lightest of their twitches in the wind far exceeds any possible imagination or expectation, and, perhaps most stunning and satisfying of all, the roses and the lilies of the field.

Spring flowers are beginning to bloom, sporadically dotting the picture of the forest with vivid splashes of red, pink, and purple. They slowly grow in numbers as your steps advance, and the spots of their growth increase in size until, soon enough, they overtake the path entirely and you and Fluttershy have to slow your step to be able to find where it continues. You can hear the faint buzzing of insects as a nearby brackley marsh in a valley of its own comes into view. Fluttershy stops to smell a particularly vibrant rose and you take a moment to look for any butterflies around, but you can’t find any. Turning slightly to ask Fluttershy where they are, you lose your train of thought as you spot her taking a bite out of the rose. “C’est la vie de poney,” vous murmurez, and continue on in silence.

Trees stretch on as far as the eye can see. How far have you been walking, now? Your legs are kind of starting to feel tired as they hit against the bulbs of the many flowers. Taking a sidelong glance at Fluttershy, you can’t see any visible signs of exhaustion at all, though that could be due to the fluffy pony’s evolutionary traits. You have now reached the part of the forest where the thickness of the trees is beginning to block the sun with their overgrowth, but you can still see that the sun is… hm. It’s actually a bit hard to see where the sun is, as it’s now cloudy—was it cloudy just a moment ago? How the time flies.

In a momentary break of the cover, you see Celestia’s sun raised in the exact middle of the sky, but its beams don’t seem quite so hot or harsh anymore. Probably, Celestia wanted to take a nap today, if everything you know about her was correct.

While lost in your musings, you crash your noggin headlong into a HUGE fallen tree.

Next thing you know, Fluttershy’s in front of your eyes, gesticulating furiously. “Oh no, no, no! Quick! (y/n)! How many hooves am I holding up?”

“Uhhhhhh, four?”

“(Y/N)! We NEED to get you to a hospital…” she squeaks.

“Woah, woah, woah. I do not have a concussion! Fluttershy, I—Fluttershy!” you exclaim, when Fluttershy tries to hoist you up into the air with her foreleg. “Fluttershy. You are holding up four hooves.”

Fluttershy, who’s been hovering over you this whole time, takes a look at her flapping wings and falls to her flank in pure, unabashed, bashedness.

#fallen blogs #fluttershy

[bitchkay]

This is less a question and more a message. I’m still trying to figure out how to actually use tumblr “correctly” as a newer user 😆 so sorry if this ain’t the right method.

Your Damaged story featuring Lance from CoD was beautiful. Beautifully written, especially for anyone that has experienced sexual trauma and how it can influence even positive relationships in so many hidden ways. The ONLY reason why I didn’t tap the love icon/leave a public note was because you mentioned it being influenced by Trauma and I didn’t want a like to somehow be misconstrued as ignoring or condoning a trauma/bad situation(s) you may have experienced.

Sorry for the rambling. Suffice to say, your piece was quite powerful. And, if you did suffer through/are going through trauma, I’m sorry and hugs.

It's completely okay, your thoughts are valid as to why you wouldn't want to add a public note to the post, so it's okay♡

Snapchat is a little bit of a bitch in way cus that whole 1 year ago today/2 years ago today or this day 1 year ago had me feeling some ways but I didn't wanna take it negatively and yk be sucked in remembering things I didn't wanna think about so I just channelled the emotions you feel or I guess I felt when being with someone that actually gives a damn, cus it really is powerful how seemingly small things can impact a person who doesn't hear those kinds of things often. It was a long time ago, I was young, I'll say that much. I've also been writing a long time and I always try to convey feelings, emotions, and/or sensations, before I get to grammar and all that technical stuff

I'm super glad you liked it so much!! I was actually scared to post it, not cus of the content or anything but because the last two stories I posted haven't gotten any interactions, and I didn't want it to be for nothing. So it's okay for you to like, reply, reblog, all that fun stuff, I love when people show appreciation especially ones like this that are filled with a lot of heart♡

#Kay answers

[destourtereaux]

simp for you - rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: rafe teases topper about being soft for sarah, but he and kelce are quick to point out that rafe acts the exact same for a certain girl...

taglist - add yourself here

warnings: drinking, profanities (i never really swear so this was so odd to write LOL)

word count: 1.2k

gif by @jedidiahtiens

a/n: hi everyone! this is my first time writing for the outer banks, so if you have feedback let me know :) -- this was inspired by one of @annab-nana's fics, would 100% recommend you check out her writing!! as always, reblog if you like <3

“Topper, could you be any more obvious? Sarah’s got you wrapped around her little finger!” Rafe exclaims in disgust. “Everyday it’s how’s she doing, where’s she at, like damn!”

“He’s right, Top, you’re down bad for her,” Kelce joins in. “But what I don’t get is why Cameron’s the one acting all big and bad…” he smirks.

A crooked smile replaces the annoyed look on Topper’s face at these words. “Yeah yeah, as if you’re not the same with Y/N, Rafe. We see how you get around her. All -- mushy, staring at her all the time and smiling like an idiot.”

Rafe scoffs, “Please! You’re both seeing things, I’d never get all soft like you fools. That’s some lame shit right there.”

Kelce and Topper shake their heads, almost in unison. “Whatever you say man.” They knew it wasn’t true in the slightest.

Later that night at the beach, a roaring party was taking place. There was a bonfire going, and as always, lots of booze. The ruckus had attracted quite a few tourons, and so it was particularly chaotic. Everyone who was anyone on the Outer Banks was there, swaying to the beat or making out with someone else.

Not ones to shy away from attention, Topper, Kelce, and the King of the Kooks himself, Rafe Cameron were at the very center of it all, getting absolutely wasted. They sat near the flames, in a little circle so exclusive that no one else dared to go within a meter of them.

That was, until a clear voice cut through the crowd. A voice Rafe would recognize anywhere.

“Hey boys!” you waved at them through the throng of people, a huge grin lighting up your face. You’d just come back from a huge shopping spree with Sarah, having seen the text your boyfriend sent you about the kegger.

Your friends waved back at you and Rafe beckoned you over. “I missed you guys,” you add, giving your boyfriend a side hug as his hand found your waist and pulled you next to him. He smiled at you almost unconsciously, taking in how the light from the bonfire bounced off your hair, enveloping your face with a glowing warmth. You looked angelic, and Rafe’s breath caught. You noticed him staring and gave him a little peck on the cheek, smiling.

Kelce and Topper glanced at each other and smirked, the show was about to start.

“Rafey, can you get me a drink? I’m a little thirsty,” you ask, oblivious to what was happening.

“Yeah of course, babe,” he nods, planting a kiss on your forehead and walking off in search of a cup.

You turn your attention back to Topper and Kelce. “So… Top! Kelce! How are you guys? I haven’t seen you two in so long.”

“Oh, you know, the usual. Dealing with Rafe and his shit,” Kelce responds casually.

That draws a giggle from you, “thank you for your service, gentlemen.”

Topper does a mini-bow, acknowledging their work.

“But enough about us, how have you and Rafe been, Y/N?” he redirects the conversation quickly, and Kelce nods his head fervently.

“...Okay I guess?” you respond, a little thrown off by the change in topic. “We’re doing great, Rafey’s a great person, and so so charming. You wouldn’t think it because he acts all bold but he is such a sweetheart deep down.” Lost in your thoughts of your boyfriend, you miss the identical smirks on your two friends’ faces.

Just then, Rafe returns with drinks for all of you, and he pulls you down onto his lap as he takes a seat on the sandy beach. “Have you eaten anything today?” he asks you insistently, “we can take the car to grab some food if you’d like, I don’t want you to be hungry.”

“I’m fine, baby,” you insist, turning to nestle your face into the crook of his neck and the boy nods.

A few hours later, most of the tourons had left and only the locals were left, chattering in their own groups around the fire. You found yourself getting drowsy as you took in the rhythmic sound of the waves crashing onto the beach and the crackling of the dying fire, and promptly fell asleep.

Rafe was never really a details type of guy, but when it came to you… he seemed to have a sixth sense. He noticed right away when you crossed that line between reality and dreamland; you relaxed a bit in his arms and your head drooped softly onto his chest. Sighing, he gently turned you around so that he could better support your weight, he knew you were probably exhausted. The fact that you had fallen asleep in his arms revealed to Rafe just how much you trusted him and this realization gave him a sudden boost of love for you. He swore right then that he’d protect you to the end of your days, no matter what it took.

Turning back, he was greeted by two shit-eating grins beaming at him from his two best friends.

“Not soft, huh… Rafey?” Kelce broke the silence, chuckling. “Wanna get some food? I don’t want you to be hungry!! We’re losing you, man, do you hear yourself?”

“Of course, I’ll do anything for you, baby,” Topper adds, “and you thought I was mad for Sarah.”

“Admit it, you’re a simp for her,” Kelce finishes, “and you don’t even know it.”

Rafe’s face burns, and he’s glad the darkness covers up the redness climbing his neck that has nothing to do with your warmth on his chest.

“You’re both idiots,” he concedes, downing the rest of his beer and throwing down the plastic cup, ignoring the combined laughter of both his friends. “Idiots who’ll be getting themselves home tonight. I’ve gotta drive Y/N back.”

And just like that, the other two boys are silenced, but not for long. Then their laughter transforms into groans. “You’re kidding, Rafe. Whatever happened to bros before hoes, huh?”

It’s all jokes though, Topper and Kelce were happy that Rafe had someone to keep him on track. You were perfect for their friend, anyone could tell. And so they goodnaturedly began their own walk back as Rafe, ever so gently, picked you up and carried you over to his car.

As he buckled you in, you opened your eyes, dazed from the sudden awakening. “Baby where are we?” you prompt, the night was silent all around you two, and there was no sand between your toes anymore.

“Shh, don’t worry Y/N/N. I’m taking you home. You can keep resting if you want, I’ll wake you up later.”

“Okay. I love you Rafe,” you murmur, and then the tide of sleep washes over you once more.

Rafe stays silent for a bit, choosing to give you yet another kiss on the forehead instead. “I love you too, Y/N. More than you could ever know.”

And I wouldn’t mind being a simp for you, he admits in his head as he begins the drive back home.

taglist: @pogueslandia @maybanksslut @calaryssia

(+ @outermaybank @henqtic @taylathornton bc you guys pressured me into tn LOL)

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron oneshots #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fics #rafe cameron reader insert #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #the outer banks #rafe obx

[thewayofthemandalorian]

better with you - chapter seven

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series rating: M

Chapter rating: M

Word count: 4,362

Notes: The general consensus for the last chapter was “Luke, wtf dude.” Which, to be fair, I also was thinking as I was writing it. This chapter is probably the most emotionally heavy of the chapters, and we finally find out what’s really going on with Talia and Silais and why they’ve been acting so suspect! 

Reblogs/comments appreciated.

Chapter warnings: Discussion of pregnancy, medical appointment, blood mention, illness mention, blackmail, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, panic attack, kissing

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist (main) || masterlist (din djarin)

You can only describe your reaction as being delayed. “T-the baby?” you manage to stutter out. “What baby?” you ask, almost stupidly. You know that he’s talking about your baby. Your baby with Din, currently growing inside you. It certainly explains a lot of things that have been happening recently.

Luke examines your face, panics when he sees the confusion and realization dawning on your features. “Oh. Oh no,” he murmurs. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you knew.”

“The baby,” you repeat. Given how much time you and Din have spent together, it was inevitable. 

“It’s okay,” you hear yourself saying. “You didn’t know I didn’t know.” 

“Didn’t know what?” asks a new voice. It’s a voice you vaguely recognize. You turn in tandem with Luke to see his twin sister, Leia Organa-Solo standing at the door. “You found another Jedi?” she asks. 

Now you’re having a delayed reaction for a different reason. 

Leia Organa-Solo is standing right in front of you. “No, Leia. This is our mother’s cousin. Wife to the Mandalorian.” 

Leia’s eyes widen. “And you didn’t think to tell me she was coming to visit?” she asks.

“I-I just arrived today, just a half hour ago,” you interject, not wanting your arrival to cause friction between the siblings. You introduce yourself, extending a hand to shake; Leia surprises you by giving you a hug. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” she says before turning back to her twin brother. “What didn’t she know?” she asks. “Who our father was?”

“N-no, I’ve known that for a very long time,” you say. At Luke and Leia’s look of confusion, you add, “They weren’t exactly discreet. No, what Luke means is that… I didn’t know I was pregnant until he sensed it just now.” 

Leia’s eyes widen, flicker back and forth between you and Luke as though putting the pieces together. “Maker, Luke!” she groans, clearly annoyed with her brother. “I don’t care if you're the Maker himself, you don’t tell people things like that!” she groans. Luke looks sheepish. 

“It’s okay, really,” you reassure her. “I was starting to put the pieces together.” You need to figure out a way to tell Din. Need to make sure you actually are carrying his child. When it will arrive. Will he be nervous? Upset? Excited? Does he even want children with you? 

“Where is the Mand’alor now?” asks Leia. 

 Gesturing outside, you say, “He’s with Grogu.” 

At the mention of Grogu, Leia smiles. “He’s a sweet boy,” she says. You nod. 

“Din’s really missed him,” you say, hazarding a glance at Luke, who still holds the bundled beskar chainmail. 

“Patu.” The three of you turn. Din is standing at the door, holding Grogu and taking in the scene before him. His eyes dart from Luke to you to Leia. 

“Hutt-slayer,” he breathes reverently, placing his free hand on his chest in a fist in honour of Leia.

“My friends call me Leia,” she says, flushing a little at the name. “It’s an honour to meet you as well, Lord Mand’alor. I am glad to see that you are reunited with Grogu at last. He’s missed you greatly this past year.” 

Grogu chirps. 

“I’ve missed him as well,” Din says, turning his attention back to you. “Are you all right, cyare? You’re shaking.” 

So you are. “I’m fine,” you say, drawing an arm around his middle and giving Grogu a gentle pat on the head. “Just… learning a lot today,” you decide on saying. 

“Grogu,” says Luke suddenly. The child coos in response. “I owe you — you and your father — an apology. An apology and a choice.” Din looks confused. “I have protected you and trained you in the ways of the Force. But I have kept a choice from you, something that my father did not have. Something that I had. The Mandalorian had this —” he holds up the beskar chain mail. “—made for you. But I also have something for you as well.” He unclips something from his belt. A small lightsaber. “This is a lightsaber. This one belonged to my master, Yoda. And now I am offering it to you.” Luke sets both the chainmail and the lightsaber on the ground. Din lowers Grogu down so that he can better see. You can tell from his expression that he’s upset that Luke withheld the chainmail from Grogu, but doesn’t say anything. 

“And the choice?” asks Din. “You said he has a choice that Vader didn’t have.” 

Luke nods serenely. “My father was not given the choice between being a Jedi and being with my mother and having attachments. It was… forbidden,” he explains. “A Jedi’s mind cannot be split, as my father’s was. A Jedi needs focus. That’s not to say that a Jedi cannot love and have connection.” At this he looks at his twin sister, who’s removed herself from the conversation and is now discussing something with Ahsoka just outside the temple. “But Grogu’s mind is not focused on being a Jedi. Make no mistake, he is well-trained in the Force, thanks in small part to me.” 

Grogu is looking between the beskar chainmail and the small green lightsaber with great contemplation. 

“I want to allow Grogu to make the choice. He can either choose the lightsaber and become my first official student in the temple,” Luke continues. 

“Or?” you say. 

“Or he can choose the chainmail and return home with you.” Grogu looks up at the three of you before looking back down at his options. You can feel Din’s breath catch. “What’ll it be Grogu?” asks Luke. 

Grogu takes a final look at his two options before looking back up at Din, his big eyes bright with affection for his father. He shuffles towards the beskar chainmail and plants himself in front of it. “Patu,” he says decisively, looking up at Din with a smile. 

Din’s stunned. “W-what?” he breathes. “You really want to come back with me? With us?” he says. Grogu coos, waddling towards you and Din, solidifying his choice. You disentangle yourself from Din, allowing him to stoop down and pick him and the beskar chainmail up. 

There are tears in your eyes at the sight. Father and son reunited at last.

- - - -

There are no hard feelings with Luke. He graciously accepts Grogu’s decision. As Din and Grogu are making their way to the ship, you hang back to speak with him. 

“I am sorry I told you that way,” he says sheepishly. 

“It’s fine,” you say genuinely. “Truth be told, I was kind of putting the pieces together myself.” 

Luke smiles. “Will I see you again? Leia and I?” he asks. 

“Do you want to?” you ask. 

“We’re family,” he says simply. “Just because I am a Jedi, doesn’t mean I turn my back on family.” 

You contemplate for a moment. “Din and I are throwing a Life Day-slash-marriage celebration gala. I’m not sure if you or your sister and her husband have plans for Life Day, but it would be nice if you guys could come. Even bring Han Solo and their son. Ben, is it?” Luke nods. “You don’t have to make a decision right now, but it would be nice to have you there if you can make it.” 

Din calls your name from the ship. “Are you coming, mesh’la?” 

You give Luke a hug. “It was really nice to meet you. Even if it wasn’t the most conventional first way to meet long-lost family,” you joke. 

Luke chuckles. “Likewise,” he agrees. “I wish you all the best. And thank you. For allowing me to see my mother.” You nod and turn to Leia. 

“It was nice meeting you,” you say, “however briefly it was.” 

She nods, hugging you. “Good luck with everything,” she murmurs. “Let me know if there’s any advice you need about anything. Anything at all,” she says, giving you a meaningful look. You nod. “And don’t be a stranger. The Skywalker-Solo-Organa family needs more women in it.” 

You catch up with Din, Grogu chattering away in his arms. “Ready?” he asks. 

“Yep, just saying goodbye,” you say. 

“I can’t believe Grogu’s coming with us,” Din muses as you make your way up the ramp of the ship.

“I can. It’s so clear that he’s missed you this past year.” You strap yourself into the seat beside Din’s as he sets Grogu in the passenger’s seat behind the two of you. 

You’re quiet on the trip back to Mandalore. Grogu falls asleep halfway there. He’s happy to be back with Din. And he seems to like you, too. You’re thinking of what Luke told you. About the baby. About how you need to make a visit to the medic’s office as soon as you can. And if they confirm what Luke said, you need to tell Din and start getting prepared. 

You weren’t expecting to be expecting so soon. But like the Force, life moves in mysterious ways. “You’re awfully quiet, cyare. Is something wrong?” asks Din, pulling you away from your thoughts. 

You shake your head. “No,” you say. “Just thinking. And I’m tired from the past couple of days.” 

Instinctively, you place your hand over your stomach, which gives no indication one way or the other. “I can’t believe you knew who Leia Organa-Solo was at first sight and not Luke Skywalker,” you tease. 

“Luke Skywalker didn’t choke out the biggest, most ferocious crime boss with nothing but chains,” Din points out. You have to agree with him on that. Everyone knew who was responsible for the death of Jabba the Hutt six years ago. “I was thinking,” he continues in a low whisper. “Once we get back to Mandalore, I might take Grogu for a spin in the N1 starfighter. I want to see his face when it goes into hyper-jump.” 

Perfect. “Yeah, that sounds great,” you say, “I’m sure he’ll love it.” 

“I think so,” says Din, squeezing your hand. “I’m so happy that my family is finally all together.” 

You can’t explain the tears in your eyes at that statement. 

A few hours later, you’re back at Mandalore Hall. Grogu woke up just as you were entering the stratosphere. 

“Welcome home, buddy,” says Din. Grogu squeals. 

After giving Grogu a tour of the manor, Din and Grogu take off. Din kisses you slowly and sweetly. “Thank you for coming with me. We should do more delegation trips together.” You loop your arms around his neck. “I love you,” he says quietly, kissing you again. 

“I love you,” you say. “Have a lot of fun with Grogu.” You give the child a kiss on his wrinkled forehead and he gurgles at you with affection. 

Once Din and Grogu are gone, you find Hestia. “I’m just going on a few errands,” you say, “while Din and Grogu are out.” 

Hestia frowns. “By yourself?” she asks. 

“I should be fine. I just have a few stops. It shouldn’t be too, too long. And when I get back we should have a chat about Silais and Talia.” 

The housekeeper’s face morphs into an expression you can’t quite read. “Oh, yes,” she says cryptically.

The temptation to stay and listen to what Hestia has to report is too overwhelming. Instead of heading to the medic’s, you pull up a chair. “I can delay my trip by a little bit.” 

Hestia is relieved, clearly bursting to tell you. “So you were only gone for a full cycle. Maybe a cycle and a half, right?” You nod. “I thought, nothing could happen in that short amount of time. But I was making my rounds before going to bed last night as I do, especially when the house is empty apart from staff.” 

Hestia pauses, takes a sip of tea, before proceeding. “So I was just finishing up when I found them in the same room you found them in the other day. And they were in the midst of a holovid call.” 

“Another one?” you ask, though technically, they didn’t make the holovid call that you had walked in on the other day, at least not to your knowledge. “Who was it to?”

“That’s the thing my lady. It was to your mother. Your mother and Lady Kryze.”

- - - -

Thankfully, Mandalore at this time of day isn’t bustling with people, so you’re able to get to the medic’s office rather quickly and with little attention. People greet you as you pass them and you give them returning smiles and “hellos”. 

Your mind is whirling the entire walk to the medic’s office. How are you going to handle this? How are you going to tell Din? Is he going to think that you’re involved? You have no idea what Talia or Silais would have to do with not only your mother, but Bo-Katan. It seems like such an odd combination of people to be on a holovid call. All of this on top of possibly being pregnant. This wasn’t how you wanted things to go. 

“Lady Djarin?” calls the medic. You startle from your thoughts. “We’re ready for you now.” 

You follow the medic, a young woman maybe a few years older than you into the examining room. 

“So, what brings you here today?” she asks, shutting the door. 

“I think I might be pregnant,” you say, “and I need to make sure I am before I tell my husband.” 

The medic nods, her face remaining neutral. “You think you may be pregnant?” she echoes.

“It’s so early, we’ve only been married for two months. But all of the symptoms I’ve been experiencing the past week or so make me think that I am.” You omit Luke’s involvement in your being here today. The Force may work in mysterious ways, but you need solid, concrete proof. 

“Of course,” says the medic. “I can run a test that will tell us if you are and how far along you are.” 

It’s not a long test. The medic takes some of your blood and puts it in a machine to test it. “You won’t…” you hesitate. “This is all confidential, right? We haven’t even announced our celebration gala yet.” 

The medic nods. “Of course. What happens and is said in here, stays in here.” The machine beeps, indicating that the test is finished. “All right,” she says, looking at the results on the screen. “According to this test, you are pregnant. About six weeks along,” she confirms. 

You burst into tears. You’re having a baby. With the love of your life. 

“Are these happy tears or sad tears?” she asks, handing you a tissue to wipe your eyes. 

Mopping your eyes, you sniffle with a giggle. “Definitely happy,” you manage to choke out. 

Once you manage to calm down, you make your way back to the manor. You need to talk to Talia; while you’re suspicious of her, you trust her more than you trust Silais. Not to mention, you’ve known her for five years. 

But you need to talk to Din first about what Hestia has told you. You’ll save the happy news for later. 

You’re not waiting long for Din. He and Grogu return shortly after you do, Grogu groggy and sleepy in his arms. “I’m going to put him down for a nap,” Din says after you kiss his cheek in greeting. 

“Sounds good. And then I have to tell you something that Hestia told me.” Din’s eyebrow raises in curiosity as he carries Grogu to the room that has been designated as his — your former room. 

Twenty minutes later, you’re seated with him in the sitting room on the divan together. Your fingers twist together in the fabric of your jumpsuit. “You know I asked Hestia to keep an eye on Talia and Silais.” Din nods. “Well she told me while you were out that she found them making a holovid call last night.” 

“To whom?” Din asks calmly. 

You take a fortifying inhale. “To my mother. And Bo-Katan Kryze.” 

Din isn’t angry. Just curious. Trying as you are to figure it out. “Why?” he asks simply. 

“I don’t know,” you say on a shaky breath. “They didn’t see her and she didn’t really hear what was being said.” 

“It’s okay, cyare,” Din says, picking up on your anxiety over the matter, “we’re going to figure this out.” 

“I think we need to talk to them. Talia at least. I know her better than Silais,” you say. Din nods in agreement. Standing up, you make your way over to the intercom. “Hestia? Can you send Talia to the sitting room, please?” 

“Right away, Lady Djarin,” Hestia’s voice crackles over the intercom. 

“We’re doing this now?” asks Din. 

You shrug. “Might as well. I want to get to the bottom of this, don’t you?” Din nods. 

There’s a knock on the door before it opens. Hestia and Talia stand there. “Talia,” you say, “have a seat.” Talia’s as pale as a ghost; she’s trembling like a leaf. “Hestia, can you make us some tea, please? And perhaps something to eat to go with it.” The housekeeper nods and bustles out. 

Talia sits down across from you and Din. You’re holding his hand. “So, Talia,” you say as Hestia returns with tea and some food, setting it down on the table. “Thank you,” you say to her. 

You can tell that Hestia wants to stay and listen to whatever it is that Talia has to say, but you dismiss her politely. 

“What’s this about Lady Djarin?” Talia asks. 

“I think you know, Talia,” you say, not unkindly. “Don’t you?” 

Talia sniffles, not meeting your eye contact. She nods. “Yeah,” she says quietly. 

“What is going on?” you ask, your voice gentling. 

“You’re going to be really mad at me, Lady Djarin. I didn’t want to do it, but —” She gives a shuddering breath. “—I didn’t really have a choice.” 

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?” you ask. 

Talia contemplates for a moment. “Okay. Okay.” She takes a breath before continuing. “I’ve been… spying on you. For your mother and for Bo-Katan Kryze.” 

You and Din exchange a glance. “Go on,” Din says carefully.

“This whole marriage between you has been a ruse. They wanted you to get married so that Bo-Katan could take the throne. There are some people who think that Lady Kryze is the rightful ruler, that Lord Djarin is a pretender. No offense, sir,” she says to Din.

“None taken,” drawls Din.

You frown. “How can that be? They didn’t think it was a good match.” Externally, you’re calm, collected. But internally, you’re about ready to scream, to cry, to be sick. You have a pit in your chest. How could you be so blind? How could you have not known? You’re not usually one to be taken for a fool, and now you feel particularly foolish.

Talia’s breath shudders. “T-they wanted i-it to look that way s-so that it would look like your choice. B-but they knew you weren’t going to spy on your h-husband.” 

“So they asked you,” you surmise. “And what of your mother?” you ask 

“Sh-she really is ill my lady. That-that’s how they got me to go along with it. Your mother’s paying for the treatment. B-but I-I didn’t want to spy on you. I haven’t wanted to this entire time.”

“I believe you, Talia. But explain to me why Kryze came the other day. What she said to you to make you so skittish,” you say, keeping yourself calm.

Talia pauses for a moment, catching her breath. Twin tears streak down her face. “She came to see if you would be sympathetic to her cause. I was t-telling her I didn’t w-want to be a part of it anymore.” And Bo-Katan didn’t like that, you assume, made threats. “I was going to tell you, my lady. I really was,” she sobs. 

“I believe you, Talia. Is there anything else?” you ask. 

She racks her brains. “Silais is the other spy. He’s the one that put Kryze on the council in the first place.” Talia takes a sip of her tea to calm herself. “I don’t want to do it anymore. But my mother needs the m-medicine and I-I didn’t know what else t-to do!” she says. 

“You could have come to me. You could have told me, and Din and I would have helped,” you say, not angrily. It’s clear from the look on her face that that idea hadn’t even crossed her mind. 

“I’m sorry, Lady Djarin. I don’t know what to do. They’re planning something for the Life Day celebration, but I don’t know what,” Talia says. 

The three of you sit in silence for a long moment, Talia trying to get her breathing under control, to stop the flow of tears. Finally, you say, “Thank you for telling us, Talia.”

“Are you going to fire me?” she asks in a small voice. 

You sigh, sharing a look with Din. “No; not yet, anyway.”

“I’m not going to tell her anything else, I promise,” says Talia. 

That gives Din an idea. “No. You are.” Both you and Talia look at Din. “I have an idea. You’re going to be a double agent. Pretending to work for Kryze, but really working for us. Do you think you can do that?” he asks Talia. 

“How are you not angry with me?” she asks instead. 

“Answer the question, Talia,” you say, becoming more and more on board with the idea the more you think about it. 

She nods. “Yes. I can do it. What about Silais?” she asks.

“Keep him in the dark. He’s slippery but surprisingly charismatic,” says Din. He’d have to call Fett and Shand and Vanth. Hell, maybe even Karga. You and Din share another look and he nods. 

“That’s all Talia. Thank you for telling us,” you say. Talia wipes her eyes again, sniffles, and picks herself up off the couch. 

“I really am sorry, Lady Djarin,” she says.

“I know.” 

The door clicks behind you and you’re left alone with your husband.

- - - - -

The second you’re alone with Din, your resolve breaks. You’re honestly surprised you managed to maintain your calm demeanour for as long as you did. You burst into tears.

“I’m sorry,” you manage to get out in between sobs. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea. I promise.” You’re babbling, repeating yourself. This entire time, thinking that the marriage between you and Din had been your choice, had really been a lie. 

“Why are you sorry?” Din murmurs gently. “You didn’t know. You’re trusting and caring and you wear your heart on your sleeve. I know that you didn’t know. You would have told me. And that’s —” he presses a kiss to your knuckles, “—one of the many, many things I love about you.”

This makes you cry even more. “I didn’t know but I should have known. I should have known that they were planning something,” you sob. “And our entire marriage has been built on a lie. I thought we were—” Whatever was left of that sentence is cut off by another sob. “I p-promise, I didn’t know.” 

Before you can process what’s happening, you’re being wrapped in Din’s arms as he holds you close. “Cyare,” he murmurs, his chin resting on the crown of your head. “Breathe.” 

“And I haven’t even told you,” your voice wobbles. “I should have known from the beginning, Din.” 

“Haven’t told me what?” he says, still in that soothing voice.

“This wasn’t how I wanted to tell you,” you mumble into his chest. “And now everything is ruined.” 

Din forces you to look at him. “My love. Look at me.” When you don’t meet his eye, he repeats himself. “Look at me, cyare.” You lock eyes with his. “I know our marriage may have originally been planned on a ruse that neither of us were privy to. But that doesn’t mean that it is a ruse now. Being married to you is one of the best things I’ve ever done. I didn’t marry you because of an alliance or because of a plot for Kryze to take the throne from me.” 

You sniffle. “Y-you didn’t?” you ask. 

“From the very start, I knew that I was a better man because of you. I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment I first saw you. Of course you didn’t know what was going on. I could never doubt that for a second.” 

This makes you break down into tears again. “I love you,” you manage to get out. “I love you, Din Djarin. And b-being your wife has been the best thing I’ve ever experienced.” 

Din kisses your forehead gently, holding you as softly as possible in his beskar. “What haven’t you told me?” he asks after a moment when your shuddering sobs have calmed down. 

Now seems as good a time as ever to tell him, you suppose. “I… I’m pregnant,” you manage to get out. Din freezes. “We’re having a baby, Din,” you continue, your heart in your throat.

For a moment you think he’s not happy about this piece of information. But then — “Really?” he gasps, his face splitting into a grin and you’re sure you can see tears in his eyes. You nod and he hugs you against him. 

“You’ve made me very happy, cyare,” he murmurs wetly. “I love you so much.” He pulls back, presses a hand to your stomach, “And you, too, adi’ka.” He presses his forehead against yours. 

You’re already feeling wrung out from all the crying that you’ve done, but happy tears slip down your cheeks. 

“What are we going to do about everything?” you ask after a while of just being held by Din. “About Talia and Silais and Kryze and my mother?” 

Din sighs. “We’re not going to worry about that at the moment. We’re going to figure it out. But for right now, let’s just be here, together.” 

You’re perfectly content with that, being held by your husband and the love of your life. 

“We’re having a baby, cyare,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “I’m the luckiest man in the galaxy.”

--- taglist in reblog

#din djarin x reader #pedro pascal #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader

[astrohnova]

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬?

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ransom hugh drysdale thrombey x latina!camgirl!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 2.4k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 Ransom and you have a complicated relationship. But his fucking makes it simple.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 +18 ONLY. IF YOU’RE A MINOR, i’ll kick your ass and also block u. insults, explicit language, smut (sex toy use, filmed sex, filmed masturbation, dumbification, breeding kink, squirting mention, spit play, blowjob, rough sex (all consented tho) creampie, daddy kink, "bitch", "whore", "cumslut", "slut"), use of spanish phrases without translation. WHEN IN DOUBT, DON’T READ. THAT’S IT.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒

I’m new at writing so if I should add more tags let me know. Also, english is not my first language so it might be a little weirdly worded so just let me know and i’ll change whatever’s wrong. I’m sorry

If you reblog and leave me some feedback I’ll kiss your mouth. With tongue.

The new lingerie set you’d bought made you feel savage. You knew it was something that your followers would enjoy. You decided to appear soft and delicate today, a good girl. So you turned your camera on, and while you were waiting for your payers to come in, you were sucking a lollipop endearingly, to gradually rile up the people watching you.

The candles you had lit along with the perfume you had spread in the room, with the soft music sounding in the background set the ambient, and your hand was gloved sending goosebumps through every part of skin you caressed. You were just fueling every sense, aislating yourself from the real world. You put the lollipop down and laided your back onto the headboard of your bed, with the computer at your feet, your clothed pussy in the first plane for your followers to admire and the clothed hand making it’s way there.

You’ve bought this glove recently, it was a sex toy. Made of black latex and a different head on each of your fingers, along with different textures that would let you see the stars. You even put a vibrator inside the middle one, just touching the point of your middle finger. Every head was different and enticing. And the vibrations between your thighs, so close to you sensible cunt left you gasping. Your lips and eyes stand out from the mask that you had on your face, sensual and with the same color as your underwear.

You looked straight to the camera when you grazed the vibrator contained by the latex over your pussy, while you gasped and then moaned, laying your head back. You could hear the sound of subscriptions coming in, and you suggestively moaned before pulling your panties to the side with your uncovered hand and brushing the vibrator on your clit, whining lightly. Then you put one of your fingers inside of you, and moaned directly to the camera, while you rubbed soft circles on your clit with your thumb, your belly contracting gently, your nipples hardening.

You took your finger off and brought it to your lips. And before you kept the show going, you said “Thank you for the gift, I’m enjoying myself so much. I hope you get off too”. You inserted two fingers in your pussy and moaned out loud.

📷

He was watching you going down the street, completely mesmerized. Just like the other men and women seeing you. He was smoking, but the smoke got into his eyes, for not being careful; his whole attention was on you. He threw the cigarette on the floor and stepped on it.

“Que hermosa, mamita.” A cute man complimented you, and you smiled and winked.

“Gracias mi amor. So pretty yourself.” You complemented and left him with his mouth open. But compliments were responded to, and he was a beautiful man.

You were walking with so much confidence and all eyes were naturally attracted to your presence, in that dress that hugged you perfectly, in those heels that took you some time to accustom to but now you walked like on a runway. And those striking stockings that you were wearing. You really were feeling yourself, that’s what a good night of orgasms and money gets you, really. You had earned so much, just had a few video requests that you had to fulfill and this month's cuota would be filled. And with this new job you had landed, things were starting to get off for you and your family

He was about to kill all the tigers that were stomping in your way, looking at you the way he did. Thinking the same things that he did, incited by that fucking dress, that gracefullness of your soul, and the barm coat that flew with the wind as you ate the wole street up. He was meeting you on this old cozy bar, after seeing that video of you yesterday he was riled up and just needed to be inside your warm pussy this cold afternoon, maybe with the coffee that you were gonna drink while you argued still stained on your mouth, that he was going to pry from your willing mouth as you gasped against him, with your mixed spit going down your chin from the sloppy kisses that he loves, and your breathy whines that had him rubbing his crotch against your stomach. And he couldn’t wait to see if you were wearing the lingerie that he had bought you, with that color that highlighted your skin undertone and got his dick leaking precum. Last night you were glorious, and today you were a walking goddess.

“Hola, imbécil.”

“Now that’s not very nice, especially after all the money I gave you last night.”

“Mhhm. Others gave me more, papito.”

“That so?”

“It is.”

“I got something more that they can’t give you. And you’re driving me feral, walking like that towards me, flirting with other guys. I thought I made it clear that you were mine.”

“And I thought I made it clear that I was my own. Especially after last night, did you see me get myself off that hard? And after the video endend I got so fucking happy, so fucking horny with all the comments, the views, the pictures that I got that I went to sleep humping my pillow.”

“Pictures?”

“Oh yes, I got so many pictures of so many pretty cocks daddy”

“You were thinking of other cocks, slut?” He questioned, grabbing you by your arm and putting you against a wall as you laughed.

“Not only thinking, papi, I found this hot guy that was just drooling for me, and he made me drool for him so much. The sheets were so messy that I had to change them after he left.” He gripped your throat harder, just growling furiously.

“Fucking bitch, I’m gonna stuff my cock so deep than your throat to make you regret everything you just said.”

“But daddy, I haven’t told you the best part yet!” You bite your lip, seeing his predatory eyes that wanted to devour you entirely. And you kept going without remorse. “The mattress was so wet too. You never reached that, did you? You want me to think that I’m yours but I got others treating me better.” You pouted, all that you were saying was true and seeing this look in his eyes was such a sight. You almost whined from his look alone.

He grabbed you by the arm and took you to his car, getting on it just right before you on the driver’s side. Wildly driving back to his place to get you fucking stuffed

“You’re driving me insane, bitch. Did you fucking curse me?”

“I did, every dick that enters this sweet pussy, plastic or meat, gets obsessed.”

“Don’t talk like that, making me more horny.”

“I’m sure your hand can help you, guapo.”

“My hand? Are you kidding me? You put that dress on, that looks more like a fucking t-shirt, to come see me and then you leave me with my hand? No, fucking whore You’re giving me your mouth. I have to wipe that smug smile and that boy’s taste off your lips. So suck, vicious little bitch.” So you did, with the loudest and a porn-like moan you quickly undid his briefs pulling his cock out, sucking the tip first.

“Daddy, the lollipop yesterday got me thinking so much about your cock. I couldn’t wait to taste you like this again.” He grabbed you by the hair at the red light, roughly pulling you up to met his face, yours pleasure filled, with drool over your chin, the same that had dirtied his pants.

“You fucking slut, were you just drilling me up to make me get rough on you?”

“No daddy, I did fuck the boy. That was yesterday morning, and then yesterday night I found a little time to think about you.”

“Yeah? Now all you're gonna have in your head and your mouth is me.” He shoved his cock deep into you, and when you gagged he pushed himself further and kept you there. “”Breathe, make this nice for me. I know you can do it.” You could, you enjoyed this so much, your paties were drenched. And what would he do when he notices you weren't wearing the pair he bought for you. Hopefully, break you. You started moving your hips, moving some friction in your pussy, and tastefully wiggling your ass for Ransom to admire.

“That’s right, cumslut. I'll make your ass fire up later too.”

📷

You screamed sensually when he hit your ass. You were on all fours, head down ass up, exposed to Ransom. He was filming your glistening pussy and your delicious ass that bounced on his torso asking for more pain. Delicious pain.

“I’m gonna break you with my cock baby. But after you ask nicely. Your followers want to know what a whore you are.”

“Such a whore! I want your dick papi, you fuck me so good. I want you to leave me braindead, drooling, filled. Please, please, please papi. Cogeme, fuck me. Te tengo muchas ganas.” You whined so hard, so annoyingly empty and desperate.

“What a good girl, making daddy so happy. Here you go, cunt.” He put one hand on your ass and thrusted into you aggressively. He positioned the camera to capture your joy filled face and his hips slamming in you. He didn’t stop nor slowed down, and started rubbing your clit to make you man loader, and you started to move back against him.

“You’re such a greedy little girl, you want all of me. ‘Cmon, give it to me now.”

“Ah!” You opened your mouth in a silent scream when you came, wetting him with your fluids.

And he quickly turned you around, on your back with your legs spread to search for his own high. But you were so sensible you started to close your legs and tried to squirm away from him. But he grabbed your face and spit on your cheek.

“Don’t you fucking dare pushe me away. You take it. Open your fucking legs. Open them wide.” You did, and he used you like a doll, with your mind swimming in pleasure, in his gorans in your ears and his hair caressing your face. He came, pushing himself against you and spilling into the condom. He moved away from you and grabbed the camera, turning it off. Then you were gonna edit the video a little bit, cropping some parts to upload to twitter and the full part you were gonna send it to your special subscribers. You gathered yourself, going to the bathroom to wash yourself a little bit, and coming with a cigarette in your mouth, already lit. You threw yourself on the bed.

“We… We have to stop doing this.” Ransom turned himself to you, taking the cigarette out of your hand and smoking it.

“Baby, you say that everytime. And then you do shit like today.”

“I know. But it’s different now, Hugh.”

“What the fuck you calling me that for?”

“‘Cause I got a new job. Lisa’s personal assistant. And I don’t intend to be higher than all the employees you ask to call you that and then go ahead and disrespect them.”

“You don’t have to work for shit, baby. I’ll pay everything for you. You just keep making those videos and the rest is on me”

“What? Like a sugar daddy? No jodás.” You grabbed another cigarette for yourself, so this dipshit wouldn’t take it away from you

“I mean it baby, I can give you the world, just let me”

“I already have the world papito, and I got it all on my own.” He hummed, and his eyes lit up when you called him ‘daddy’ in spanish, in this intimacy. With your body still displayed for him, through which he roamed his eyes in.

“Papito?” He repeated with an accent. “Maybe I can make a mama out of you....” He burned the cigarette out and took yours off too.

“What the hell are you talking about?” You complained in a moan when he turned you around, on your belly with your hands by your head and his entire muscular, heavy and warm body sprayed out on you. He then pushed deep into you.

“Get off me, Ransom.” You complained in a gasp.

“But I’m so deep ‘side you... I just have to get this shit off me to fill you up.“ He still had his condom on, but he hurriedly got it off and dived inside you again.

“What?! Don’t you dare. Get. The hell. Off.”

“Don’t lie to me princess, you want me to fill this pussy. You’ll be a fucking queen, in my arms, being spoiled with my money. I’ll take care of you and all the kids you’re gonna give me.”

“Ransom…” Your accent was spilling, and your resistance was getting away from you, his words and promises stained in your brain. “Fucking dick.”

“Nobody takes me like you, gripping me like that. You’re just a whore for me, ain’t you? Want all of me.”

“Ah, Ransom, you’re so deep.” You whined, your belly contracting.

“What do you want, honey? I wanna hear you beg for it”

“I-- Please Ransom. Please, please, please llename. Por favor, papi!” You moaned when he started pushing into you again. Last round had been intense and you had little break, so naturally you didn’t last long. You came screaming Ransom’s name, free to do so without a camera in front of you. And he was so close too, his mind winded up with getting you pregnant, with images of your belly full, your tasty breasts with all the milk he was gonna drink. He was goraning so much, your pussy grabbing him so hard, pushing him farther inside of you.

“Are you gonna be a good mama for me?”

“The best, daddy! Just please, please fill me.” And he did, with the loudest groan. To then turn you around and start admiring your tits, your body, getting inside your head with compliments of the mommy you were gonna be. And all the videos you were gonna make with your horniness, with your huge titis and that round belly. How he wanted to cover you in cum and get it on camera to show that you were his, cause getting you pregnant just wasn’t enough. And after that, he went down to eat his leaking cum out of you and prepared you for the next round.

#ransom drysdale smut #ransom drydale x you #ransom thrombey x reader #knives out smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans smut #chris evans x female reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans image #latina!reader

[mickey-henry]

𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: bucky’s been flirting with you, but hasn’t taken it further than that. frustrated, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

word count: 2.1k

warnings: occasional swearing (but not much) and frustrating flirting (I’d be melting if it was happening to me). besides that, this fic is pure fluffy fun.

author’s note: hello there! this is my second fic; I’m very excited to post it! I found the header image here, and if you want to listen to the song I reference in this fic, you can listen here. bold text indicates singing, while italicized text refers to inner thoughts. likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! I hope you like it! 💖

Bucky Barnes is an acquaintance at best. The two of you rarely work together, and with conflicting schedules, you see little of each other around the compound. On a random Friday in April, however, something changes in you. The moment is nothing out of the ordinary. You’re sitting on the couch in the main living space, re-reading one of your favorite books. Bucky has just returned from a mission; you glance up to see his exhausted expression. He catches your eye, winking with a smile, before walking to his room. Your heart flutters and your head freezes at the response. “Oh, no,” you think to yourself. “Maybe that was a one-time thing? I don’t actually like him, right?” Wrong. 

Ever since that night, the mere presence of Bucky Barnes drives you crazy: his stunning blue eyes that squint ever so slightly when he smiles, his adorable nose that crinkles when he laughs, his pillowy lips that you lose yourself in, his  fluffy hair you can’t help but imagine running your fingers through, his scruff speckled jawline that you wish would brush along your hands, cheeks, anywhere really. He occupies your dreams; you can’t escape this man even if you try. Today, he drives you crazier than usual. He stands in the compound's kitchen in a tight black t-shirt, one that leaves nothing to the imagination. This is the first time you’ve seen him in short sleeves, in anything other than tactical gear. You can’t help but stare as he prepares his lunch. The shirt hugs his frame tight, accentuating his biceps that had no right to be that big. “Gosh, he must spend hours in the gym to look like that.” You then notice the vein in his right arm protruding from his skin, tracing it with your eyes. You didn’t think he could become any more beautiful, but here he is before you, incredible as ever. 

You’re pulled from your reverie when Bucky calls your name. “Yeah?” you reply, barely masking the startled stutter in your voice.

“Pass me the salt?”

“Oh! Sure, of course,” you muster, taking a sip of water from the glass in front of you as you hand him the salt shaker. 

“Thanks, doll,” he flirts with a smile, the same one he gave you that night when he got back to the compound. You nearly choke. “Bucky Barnes called me a term of endearment?!? Holy shit.” Your heart swells and you look down at your glass in a desperate attempt to hide the blush creeping its way across your cheeks. “Goodness gracious, I respond this way from a simple word?” You couldn’t imagine how you’d feel if he touched you. 

It didn’t take long to find out. The following day, you stand in the kitchen prepping your lunch, singing softly along to the song playing from your phone. Bucky appears soon after. He stands close to you for a moment, closer than necessary, but of course you don’t mind. He has just showered; his cologne lingers in the air, intoxicating you. Somehow, you keep singing along, showing no sign that your mind is elsewhere. 

“Ugh, he smells amazing. This man has too much power over me; this is ridiculous! I don’t even remember what I was doing—”

“You have a beautiful voice,” he compliments.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you softly reply, your heart racing at his praise.

“Let me get by you real fast, doll,” he says, moving to walk behind you. 

“There he goes again with the pet name. My god, could this get any worse—” 

He places his hands gently on your hips as he moves beside you. Electricity travels through your whole body; you’re internally screaming at his touch. His hands feel better than you imagined. Even though the contact lasts only a moment, the effects of his touch linger after, leaving you speechless. 

You hear a musical chuckle from the man behind you. “Is he teasing me? It sure feels like it,” you wonder. There is no way that he can’t see the effect he has on you. Before you can even formulate another thought, he touches you again as he moves back to the other side of you. “That was definitely on purpose; certainly he wouldn’t do this by accident. Right?”

Your eyes linger as he finishes putting together his lunch. He catches your gaze and smiles. “See you later, sweetheart,” he says with a wink before leaving the room. “Okay, that answers my question; that was very intentional. What am I going to do with myself?”

You don’t know how much longer you can take his teasing. Throughout the week, he ups his antics, calling you pet names more than your own, stealing touches whenever he can get away with it, smiling whenever you make eye contact. The tension is insatiable; thoughts of Bucky follow you everywhere. You decide to take matters in your own hands; Bucky did not seem to be planning to make a move anytime soon. If he is going to tease the hell out of you, you might as well get some payback. 

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Tony’s announcement of Friday night karaoke gives you a wicked idea. However, for it to work, you need to recruit help. You know just who to ask. It doesn’t take long to find Sam and Steve; they spent a ton of their free time sparring in the gym. They seem to be at the end of their workout, their movements slow and sloppy, relying on witty retorts to throw off the other. They stop when they notice your arrival. 

“Hey!” Sam says with a smile, hugging you as you approach. You squeeze him tightly, even with his sticky sweat coating his arms. You greet Steve with a hug too.

“What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Steve asks as you let go.

“Can I ask you guys something? And you promise you two won’t laugh at me? Especially if I'm reading this wrong?”

“Of course,” answers Steve. 

“Yeah, for sure,” replies Sam. 

You hesitate for a second, taking a deep breath. “Does Bucky like me? I swear he does. He keeps teasing me, and I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I think I am practically in love with the guy at this point, he’s so beautiful and—”

You stop as the boys exchange glances and begin laughing. 

You cross your arms, hurt. “You said you wouldn’t laugh at me! I can’t control how I feel.”

“No! Wait! We aren’t laughing at you!” Steve says between giggles. 

You furrow your brows. “Then why are you laughing?”

“Bucky’s obsessed with you,” Steve answers after calming his laughter. 

“God, yes, you’re all he talks about nowadays,” Sam adds. 

“What?! He does? Why? Are you shitting me right now? Because that would be really freaking mean—“

“No! Of course not,” Steve insists. “Don’t you see the way he looks at you?”

“And the pet names he gives you?” Sam adds.

“And how he can’t seem to keep his hands to himself lately?” Steve finishes. 

Now you feel stupid for even asking. Of course you noticed all of those things. They were all you ever thought about. “Well, yeah, but maybe he does that with all the girls.”

“What girls?” Sam retorted. “The only women who are here often enough to cross paths with him are you, Natasha, and Wanda. Wanda’s with Vision, as weird as that is, but love is love. Natasha shoots daggers at anyone who looks at her with love in their eyes. That leaves you.”

“Why in the world would he like me? Of all people? He’s out of my league,” you sigh,

Sam’s scoff pulls you from your thoughts. “Bucky? Out of your league? He’s a crazy ex-assassin with emotional issues! If anything, he's out of your league.”

“You’re a catch, why wouldn’t he like you?” Steve assures.

Steve and Sam always know just what to say to make you feel better. “I guess you’re right,” you admit with a defeated grin. 

“So, you know how Bucky feels. What are you going to do about it?” Steve asks. 

“I have an idea, but I need your help.”

“We’re listening.”

You divulge your plan to them. They smile, hyping you up. 

“Dude, I’m so down!” Sam exclaims, clapping his hands in excitement. 

“You think this will work?”

“Definitely,” Steve assures. “This is going to be amazing!”

“Okay then, we’re doing this. Let’s go find Bucky. Time to initiate phase one.”

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky is sitting on the common room couch, flipping through a book when he sees you, Sam, and Steve enter. He exchanges a glance with you, smiling as your eyes light up. The three of you sit down. You’re sitting next to Sam, closer than usual. There’s a brief moment of silence before you speak. “Sam, are you going to karaoke night?”

“Of course! Wouldn’t miss everyone’s drunk-ass singing for the world.”

“Will you be my duet partner?”

This catches Bucky’s attention. He looks up from his book. Why the hell were you asking Sam to sing with you? You normally ask the girls...

“Sure thing, baby. It’ll be a ton of fun!” Sam smiles. 

Baby?! What?! How dare he call you a pet name, his girl, right in front of him? Well, you may not be his girl yet, but Sam knows how he feels about you. What the hell is he thinking?

“Yay! This’ll be so fun!” You hug him, grabbing his hand before continuing, “Wanna practice with me in a bit?”

“Find me when you’re ready, sweetheart,” Sam answers, kissing your knuckle before letting go of your hand. 

Sweetheart?! What the fuck was going on? Did he miss his shot? Would Sam really do that to him? Bucky can barely handle his swirling thoughts. He storms out of the room without looking back. 

Steve can’t help but laugh once Bucky is out of earshot. “That worked a little too well, wouldn’t you say so?”

“That wasn’t too far, was it?” you ask with a worried expression on your face. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. He’ll just come on even stronger now. He won’t give up on you that easily,” Sam assures you. 

───────────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ･ ─────────────

Bucky can barely contain his anger as you step on the stage with Sam, giggling and smiling at your karaoke partner. Jealousy engulfs him. He can barely listen to the start of the song, ignoring the catchy beat blasting through the speakers. He doesn’t recognize the song, but looks up from his drink when you sing, “Hey Bucky boy, what you doing tonight? I wanna see what you got in store."

He looks right at you. Did she just say Bucky?

Sam echoes, “Hey, hey Bucky!” Well, that answers his question.

“You're giving it your all when you're dancing on me. I want to see if you can give me some more,” you continue, twirling your fingers through your hair.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“You can be my man, I can be your girl, and we can pump this jam however you want,” you sing, swaying your hips to the cadence of the lyrics.

“Hey, hey Bucky!”

“Pump it from the side, pump it upside down, or we can pump it from the back and the front,” you wink as you finish the line. Bucky sits up suddenly, crossing his legs, his face turning beet red. You smile, knowing the plan was working. Steve laughs from beside him. He keeps his eyes glued on you as the two of you continue the song, utterly entranced. You look him right in the eye as you end the song, “I want you tonight.”

You saunter over to where he is sitting after high-fiving Sam, confidence filling your chest. “So, what did you think of my performance, Bucky?”

You yelp as he grabs your hips and pulls you down to sit on his lap. His voice deepens, “you’re such a tease, you know that right?”

You laugh. “I’m the tease? Really? You’re the one who just pulled me onto your lap and taunts me with flirtatious remarks and smiles all freaking day. My god Bucky, make a move already—”

He cuts you off, pulling you in for a kiss, his flesh arm grabbing the back of your neck. The team whoops and cheers. 

“Glad you finally made a move, Bucky,” you pant as your lips part from his.

“Best decision I ever made in my life, doll.” Before you can respond, he kisses you again, the karaoke bar fading in the background as you finally embrace the man of your dreams.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #mickey-henry #bucky barnes fic #my fic: hey bucky #mel's writing

[dollslayer]

Botanical Interest - For Luck

Soft!Mob!Steve Rogers x Florist!Reader

Summary: Steve introduces you to some of the most important people in his life, but are you ready for all that comes with it?

W/C: 4,743

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, angst, gambling

A/N: When I saw @redhead-wine-and-literature-club was doing a floral based challenge I couldn't pass up the opportunity to add to this series! April 28th - Cornflower - good-luck charm. Even though this is part of a series of oneshots it can be read as a standalone! If you like it please like/reblog/comment and check out my other fics! Cheers!

Botanical Interest Masterlist I Main Masterlist

The sunlight through the windows warms your skin while the breeze of the small fan on the counter gives you goosebumps. Dog days of Summer slowly set in over the city and with them came a slight dip in business. No one wants a rooftop wedding when it’s 100 degrees out and the drinks are watered down with sweat. You didn’t mind though, it let you put in a little extra time and care to the orders you did have.

You picked up a stem of cornflower and nestled it between snapdragons and lisianthus. It was so dreamy you couldn’t help but sigh, you almost wished it was for yourself. It was for an elopement, an eager young couple came in this morning all smiles asking if you could take the last minute order. Feeling a little sappy from your own relationship you couldn’t turn them down.

You started in on the boutonniere when the music you had on was paused. Curious, you looked at your phone to find you had an incoming call. You balanced the phone in between your shoulder and ear as you gathered supplies.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Doll. How are you?” Steve’s warm voice greeted you.

You smiled into the receiver. “I’m good, just working on the last order of the day. What are you up to?”

“Well actually that’s what I called to ask you. You free tonight?”

“You can meet me at the shop in an hour. Sound good?” You promised.

“Sounds like a plan. I love you, doll, I’ll see you soon.”

After returning his affections you hung up and set to work, excited to be finished and see Steve. Despite his involvement with the mob, which neither of you had really addressed head-on yet, things were going really well. Even though he was involved with murky dealings he was sweet to you and you were in love with him. You tried to plan your night with Steve in your head as you worked.

____

The ringing of a bell roused you from your work, expecting to see the young couple here to pick up their flowers. You were instead face to face with Steve’s handsome smirk and playful eyes. Your smile grew wider as he approached the counter. You held the boutonniere up to the lapel of his jacket and eyed it from a distance.

“Do I have a hot date I didn’t know about?” He joked.

“No!” You giggled, “The flowers are for a couple that came in the shop this morning, they’re going to elope and the groom’s got your complexion, thought I’d see how this looks on you before I finish”

“Oh? And how do I look as a groom?” He questioned.

Your cheeks heated instantly and you felt shy. You managed to squeak out that he looked nice before you had to turn away to box up the flowers. You couldn’t help the stupid smile on your face. You and Steve never talked about marriage before but things were getting serious between you. Maybe he just felt extra cheeky today.

“I like the blue, very colorful”

“They’re cornflowers, they’re a good luck charm! I figured they were fitting for their little wedding. So what did you have in mind for tonight? It’s too hot to sit on the patio but I’ve got a pint of ice cream with our names on it in the freezer at home” You raised your eyebrows in offer.

“Well actually, I was hoping you could be my good luck charm tonight. Bucky’s got a few of us getting together tonight for poker and you’ve yet to meet my friends. What do you say?”

Oh. You weren’t sure what to say. You hadn’t met his friends yet because you were uncomfortable with his mob work and you knew they were involved. But you also knew they were his friends and they were important to him. It’s not like you could avoid them forever. Poker with a mob boss? Sure why not?

You put on a slightly uneasy smile and nodded.

“Well I have to tell you, I haven’t played in forever but I would love to meet your friends” You told him.

“I promise, no shop talk. But I’ve been telling them about you. Buck’s wife Natasha has been dying to meet you. I also promise not to make you play poker.” He said with an easy grin.

“Alright, I just have to wait on this couple to pick up their flowers and close up. Shouldn’t be more than 20 minutes. You can wait here if you want but I’ve got no A/C”

Steve nodded and took off his jacket. He rolled up his sleeves and loosened his tie.

“For you? I’ll sweat it out.” He said.

____

After a quick pit stop at your place to change you were on your way. You smiled in the passenger’s seat, still reeling from the look on the young bride’s face when she saw her bouquet. That was undoubtedly the best part of your job, seeing the joy on your customer’s faces when they saw their arrangements. Maybe this feeling could carry you through the night.

The tires of Steve’s Audi crunched under the gravel of the long driveway up to Bucky’s estate. Steve told you he had a townhouse in Brooklyn but for the most part they stayed at their estate outside of the city. You looked up at the facade of the house and admired the ivy that clung to the bricks.

Parking the car Steve got out and quickly made his way to your side to let you out. Just one of the many old-fashioned quirks that he had. You accepted his hand as he helped you out of the car and leaned up to kiss his cheek. His hand traveled down to rub your back reassuringly. You looked up at him.

“Don’t worry, they’ll love you. Natasha can be intense but she means well. Just be yourself and they’ll love you just as much as I do.” He kissed your hair to soothe you and lead you towards the door.

Steve nodded at the man at the door. “Scott. Nice to see you, this is my girlfriend”

You smiled and gave him your name. “It’s nice to meet you, Scott”.

He smiled and greeted you in kind, lifting his hand to shake yours. When he did his jacket rode up and you could see the holster and butt of his gun. You ignored it and shook his hand.

Scott opened the door for you and you entered the house. Mansion, might be a better word honestly. Marble floors, oak woodwork, all the look of any house you’d find in the area and all in line with how you’d think a rich mob boss might live. The foyer was empty but you could hear voices in the distance.

Steve waltzed through the halls like he lived here, when he was at work he probably practically did. The space was teeming with energy as they bantered on with trash talk and promises of beating one another. Men sat at a round table drinking, waiting to deal cards and women standing around sipping on wine.

One man looked familiar from the pictures you’d seen around Steve’s place. His sharp jaw and long dark hair drew your attention instantly; Bucky Barnes, King of Brooklyn. His brows were pinched together in a scowl but he had a playful grin on his face. You steeled yourself the best you could and prepared for your introduction. Just think of him as Steve’s childhood best friend.

“Steve! ‘Bout time you showed up you bastard!” an accented voice belonging to a tall blond man with long hair called. He clapped a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “And are you the enchantress that our dear friend goes on and on about? Now that I’m meeting you I can see why!”

Steve let out an embarrassed laugh and motioned towards his friend. “This is Thor, don’t let the muscle fool you, he’s a total teddy bear”

You gave him your name and extended your hand when he brought you in for a bone-crushing hug. You let out a laugh and hugged him back, grateful for something to ease the tension you felt.

“How’s that for a warm welcome, huh?” A voice sounded from behind you.

Thor released you from your hug and you took a desperately needed breath. He patted you on the shoulder.

“Wanted to make our dear Steven’s girl feel at home, that’s all” Thor explained. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to beating your boyfriend at poker.” You laughed at that and turned to face the man who spoke earlier.

That man was none other than Bucky, who reached out for your hand. You gave it to him and he instead lifted it to give a gentle kiss.

“I can’t believe I’m meeting the one and only. Stevie here won’t shut up about you sometimes. I’m Bucky but I’m sure you already knew that.”

“I’ve heard about you too, it’s nice to finally meet.” You nodded as you took your hand back.

“I’m afraid I need to steal your man, we’ve been waiting on him to start the game but tell you what, why don’t you go find my wife Natasha, I know she’s been dying to meet you.”

Great, not at all intimidating. Okay fine just smile and breathe. Maybe get a drink. You smiled at Bucky. “The redhead, right?” He nodded and sent you on your way. One last look at Steve you shot him a worried look but he only winked at you.

You looked around the room and shrunk in on yourself a bit. You were never the best with social outings or being in new environments. You looked around again and found the very redhead you had been in search of smirking at you from the corner. She was dressed in a sleek black dress and looked effortlessly beautiful but also like she could strangle a man with her bare hands. You steeled yourself with a smile you’re sure she saw straight through.

“So you’re the one responsible for the flowers at my wedding?” You nodded Pleasesayyoulikedthempleasesayyoulikedthem “I loved them! The wedding planner recommended you and I’m so glad she did. It’s so hard to find a good color pallet but you nailed it. Come on, you need a drink then I’ll introduce you to the girls”

She ushered you towards the kitchen where she took the waiting wine glass from the counter and handed it to you. You didn’t like red but you’d drink it anyways. You brought the glass to your lips and took a sip.

You two talked for a bit in the kitchen, maybe she wasn’t as scary as she seemed. You tipped the stem of your glass until there was nothing left. Before you could ask for different wine she was topping you off from the same bottle. Another round of apprehensive sips and hidden grimaces but you thanked her regardless. It was now your goal to find the sociable sweet spot of drunkenness. You could feel blood rushing to your cheeks from the alcohol as tipsiness settled in.

Natasha raised an eyebrow and considered you for a moment.

“So how are you handling the whole organized crime thing? Gotta say, I didn’t peg you as his type but you guys are cute.”

You stopped yourself from spitting the wine in your mouth back into the glass.

“Um, thanks, I guess” You sputtered, “we uh, try to keep things separate. Figure it’s best for both of us.”

Natasha nodded, taking another drink herself.

“That’s probably best but I mean, how long can you keep that up, really?” She asked

You hated to admit it but she had a point. It’s not like the thought hadn’t crossed your mind. You opened your mouth to answer her when a man walked into the room and called your name. You looked expectantly (and slightly gratefully) towards him.

“I believe your man has requested your presence at the table. Somethin’ about needing a cornflower? I don’t know he said you’d get it. What are you two gossipin’ about in here anyways?” He questioned.

Natasha spoke before you could “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that, Sam. We’re right behind you.” Sam nodded and retreated back to the doorway to wait for you.

Natasha touched your shoulder and you looked to her.

“Look, I didn’t mean to come off so brash, I guess I’m just trying to say, I know that being involved in this life isn’t easy. We’ll swap numbers later. Maybe we’ll go to lunch” She winked at you. You couldn’t tell if she was being serious or not but you nodded anyways.

“I-Thank you, I think I’d like that. I’d better go find Steve though” you excused yourself and made your way back to the table.

____

Steve Rogers was having a good night. He finally got to introduce his friends to his girl, she seemed to be relaxing a bit and having a better time, and he was well on his way to getting a straight flush this hand. The only thing that would seal the deal is his good luck charm by his side.

Steve called to Sam across the room and as soon as Sam walked over and bent Steve spoke.

“Sam, could you do me a solid and find my girl? Think she went to get a drink with Nat. Tell her I need cornflowers”

“Man if this is some weird sex thing I’m gonna be mad” Sam said with a mixture of confusion and disgust.

“Oh, please. Nothin’ like that, promise. She’ll know what it means.” Steve pat his friend on the shoulder and paid attention as Thor dealt cards.

A minute later his girl was walking through the door with an uneasy smile on her face. Something is wrong but he can’t gauge how serious it is. Sam says something to make her laugh and he settles on asking her later. Natasha saunters out behind them looking almost amused but cautious. Like she was regretting something. She’d probably just tried to give his girl the third degree when Sam interrupted them. It’s for the best, that’s too much for one night.

His girl smiles as she approaches him, looking slightly more at ease when she takes another sip of her wine. Her smile was a little looser and she moved a bit more freely, definitely tipsy and completely adorable with that grin on her lips.

“How are things going over here for you boys?”

Gauging how tipsy she was, he patted his knee in offering and she took it with a shy smile. Only slightly. But enough not to worry so much.

“Well, sweetheart, I’m about to kick all their asses and I figured I could use a good luck charm to seal the deal.” He boasted.

“Oh,” she said in realization, “Then I’m all yours”. She settled into his lap and watched on.

Her face was nothing short of endearing as she tried to concentrate and take in the game. He remembered she said she hadn’t been good at poker but it was sweet she was trying to pay attention anyways and be there for him.

“What’s the pot?” She asked.

“Nothin’ serious, there’s a pretty nice box of cigars and a weekend at Buck’s place in the Hamptons in the mix but we don’t do cash at get togethers like this, that’s for boy’s nights only.” He explained as he rubbed her back with his free hand. “Tonight’s just about fun”

She nodded as she studied the table some more before resigning to laying her head against his and listening to whatever bullshit Clint was on about. Steve was focused on getting others at the table to fold, he knew he had a good hand and a good chance of winning, he just needed the others to back down to bring it home.

Thor placed the final community card face up and Steve set out a low whistle. Others at the table looked a little miffed but he just knew he was taking it all. He set down his cards to a chorus of groans as he raked all the chips towards himself. You placed a kiss to his temple and he returned one to your cheek.

“Just the good luck I needed” he said loud enough for the table to hear.

“Hey Steve you gotta come see this!”

Steve tsked in annoyance. “Can it wait? I’m up and we were gonna keep playing. I’ll be there after”

“No, you should go. Let her play a hand for you, we can get to know each other better” Bucky suggested.

“Oh, I don’t think you want me playing poker.” She laughed but nervousness was the only emotion he could see on your face. He opened his mouth to protest but was cut off.

“She’ll be fine, we’ll go easy on her, I mean it. If it makes you feel better we’ll even hold the pot. This round is just for shits.” Bucky insisted.

Caught between wanting to ask how you felt about it and not wanting to get flak about being so sensitive Steve tilted his head in silent asking at you.

You gave him the same unsure smile you’d had all night and nodded up at him. “I’ll be fine, Stevie, promise.”

He gave her a reassuring smile and then turned his eye to Bucky who was all smiles. He knew exactly what Bucky was trying to do. Buck knows she doesn’t know anything but he’s gonna turn the screws on her just like he does with anyone new at the table. Steve gave him a stern expression in warning. Don’t scare her off.

____

You could hear your heart beating in your ears as you tried to decide what to do. Take it slow. You told yourself. You looked up to find all the eyes at the table on you and did your best to calm yourself.

“So who’s dealing?” A man you hadn’t previously met swiped the cards and began shuffling.

“Look, I know we said we’d put the pot on hold but Laura’s been bugging me about a vacation and I don’t know that I can pass up this opportunity to steal from Steve so easily, so” The man you’d come to know as Clint trailed off. You did your best not to be offended.

“Shut up, Barton. I promised Steve, we just wanna have a little fun, don’t we?” Bucky asked.

Is he asking me?

You decided to take a sip of your wine instead and he chuckled.

“So,” Bucky turned to you, “I know that you know about what we do, there’s no point in denying it. The question is are you going to be a problem for us or do you know how to keep things to yourself?”

Frozen in fear you could only manage to look at the rest of the table, hoping to find that this was all a joke. Instead, every face looking to you was stony and waiting on an answer. God, this man was made for Natasha, that much is clear. Your eyes darted around the room looking for an out. Where is Steve? Where the fuck is Steve?

You don’t find him, but you do find Natasha looking at you, she smiles and looks to her husband before she shakes her head. She makes her way over to her husband and lightly smacks him in the back of the head.

The look of surprise on his face ruins his silent and aggressive front as he winces in pain. He looks in slight annoyance at his wife as she tsks at him.

“Will you stop already? She’s a smart girl and you don’t need to go scaring her off. In fact, I hope she beats you. I wouldn’t be surprised if she did.” Natasha sounded so confident. You warmed to the fact that she was in your corner when you were practically a stranger in her home.

“Aw c’mon, Babe, I was only messin’ with her.” Bucky turned to Nat and she just challenged him with a smile.

You didn’t know why Natasha has suddenly become so supportive, maybe she felt bad about earlier but you were grateful to her. She pulled up a chair between the two of you to watch and motioned to the dealer to continue. You finished your second glass and prepared yourself for the night ahead. Any chance they had of you going easy on them went out the window.

____

You lost the first hand graciously, saying you hadn’t played poker since you were in college as an excuse for your loss. But when Steve was still busy and Bucky offered another round you accepted. You decided to put your full effort in this time.

Twenty minutes later everyone at the table was feeling confident in their hands, staring at each other like some sort of Mexican standoff, willing the others to fold. You could tell by the way Clint kept scratching the cut on his chin that he was screwed and he knew it. Thor couldn’t go more than 5 seconds without nervous laughing.

But Bucky? He was a tough read but about half way through the round his leg started bouncing. You knew this because he was bumping into Natasha, who’s wine was sloshing around in the glass despite her stillness. These clods didn’t stand a chance.

The dealer, Vision, you’d learned, called for everyone to show their cards. Here goes. One by one everyone set their cards down until finally it was your turn. You set them down but focused on your opponents faces. Everyone looked confused, shocked even. You had laid down a royal flush and handily smoked them all.

“Holy shit”

“Holy shit indeed”

“Told you so” Nat teased.

You smiled at all of them and drank from your newly topped off glass of wine - white this time. A warm pair of hands rested on your shoulders and you looked up to find Steve smiling down at you.

“What’s going on over here, gentlemen?”

“Well, Steve, I think your girl is hustlin’ us. Thought you said you hadn’t played since college?” Bucky turned to you. You couldn’t gauge how angry he was but you decided to be honest.

“I haven’t,” you began, “But when I did I was pretty damn good. You just assumed I didn’t know what I was doing.” You shrugged.

The room was tense, it felt like everyone was looking to Bucky to see what to do next. He broke out into a wide smile and a low chuckle turned into hearty laugh. Everyone visibly relaxed.

“I gotta say, Steve. She isn’t what I expected, but she’s sure somethin’”

“A girl after my own heart” Natasha added.

Steve bent down to kiss your head. You stood from the table and offered him your seat. Nat put a hand on your shoulder.

“Steve I’m going to steal her again, the girls will probably want to hear all about your little cardshark.”

____

He had to admit, he was completely blown away by your little stunt at the table. He thought back to earlier when you watched him play. You weren’t trying to desperately understand the game, you were studying your opponents. He couldn’t deny it was kinda hot. You were full of surprises.

He smiled thinking that you were no different than the day you met, timid but aggressive when you need to be. That’s my girl.

The rest of the night came and went without incident, Steve didn’t end up taking home the pot but he did have a conversation with Bucky.

“She and I don’t talk about work. She knows that what we do isn’t exactly reputable but let’s face it, anyone in Brooklyn would. She doesn’t know and she doesn’t want to.”

Bucky took a long drag from his glass of bourbon and nodded.

“But if she ever did I hope she’s smart enough to know she has to keep what she knows to herself. We can’t afford any slip ups.”

Steve’s fists clenched and he controlled his anger enough not to snap at Bucky. He was his best friend but Bucky was still the boss and Steve knew how much was at stake.

“Not that it’s any of my business but you love this girl, right?” Steve swallowed thickly and nodded.

“Then how the hell are you gonna manage that? Keepin’ your two worlds separate? I mean, you just gonna walk her down the aisle and live happily forever keeping half your life from her? I need to know that if push came to shove she wouldn’t sell us out. Things are fine for now but you know that you’re either in or you’re out. I care about you, Steve, you’re my best friend but you need to see straight.”

Steve looked away, his jaw clenched as he ground his teeth. He knew Bucky was right. He loved you but he owed his life to Bucky, he was his brother. But he loved you. They were careful in their work and he knew any feds that tried to come after them wouldn’t find a thing. He could put this issue into a box and seal the lid tightly, at least for a while.

“I know you’re right. I love her and she’s a good woman. She wouldn’t say anything because she doesn’t know anything. And she never will.”

He left Bucky to stand on his own in search of you. He found you laughing with Laura, Wanda and Nat. He smiled at how welcomed you seemed to feel despite the rocky start.

“You ready to go, doll?”

You turned around and smiled at him. You looked back at the girls and then reluctantly back to him but nodded.

“Guess we’d better go, I’ve got to get down to the flower market at open tomorrow morning”

____

After a very long round of goodbyes you swapped numbers with Nat with promises of future lunch plans. The night had turned out worlds better than you thought that it would. You served a bunch of men their own egos on a silver platter and didn’t get murdered for it and you even made friends.

Still though Nat’s words echoed in your mind ‘how long can you keep that up, really?’ Little did you know but the same thoughts troubled Steve. You knew eventually you would have to make a choice if you ever wanted to get more serious than you were with each other, you just didn’t know what choice you’d make.

The ride home was quiet but not tense. He held your hand a little tighter than usual but you thought maybe he was just excited you had gotten on so well with your friends. He pulled up to your building and put the car in park.

“So do you think they liked me? I mean, other than hustling them at poker I’d say I made a pretty good impression”

Steve chuckled, “Yeah, doll. Gotta say, the whole cardshark thing? Kinda hot, didn’t know you had that in you, you little fiend.”

You rolled your eyes playfully and grinned at him. “I wasn’t gonna but Clint started talking shit.”

“Then he deserved his ass kicked” Steve joked. “I’d come up but I know you’ve got an early morning. Thank you for coming and meeting everyone tonight, I know that you want to keep things separate but these people are family to me, it means a lot that you met them”

You nodded and smiled. You told yourself you didn’t need to make the choice between getting involved with his work and keeping it apart from the other aspects of your life but it seems that by meeting them you had already made one.

Maybe you could talk more to Nat about this, she’d know what your situation is like more than anyone. For now though you decided to focus on the present reality, you had a good night and you had fun and now you’re about to kiss the man you love.

“Of course” you whispered. You kissed him slowly, trying to put off the sleepless night you were surely about to have.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I’ll call you tomorrow. I love you”

“I love you too, Stevie”

#rwlc love in bloom challenge #steve rogers x reader #mob au #mob!steve x reader #mafia!au #mafia!steve rogers x reader #mob!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #marvel au #marvel fic #marvel x reader #botanical interest #fluff #angst

[221bshrlocked]

A Sky Full of Stars

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Fem!Reader

Words: 11340 (I know I say this all the time but this really was supposed to be a short one-shot but it got away from me because I just loved this idea so so much. Sorry not sorry.)

Warning: Nothing but fluff. Some kissing that turns into a heated make-out session that turns into a cuddling session.

Inspired by this tiktok by the lovely ameliagonzales who was gracious enough to allow me to use her idea and write this.

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote something that's fluffy slightly angsty and dialogue-centered. I'm not going to lie, this took longer than usual because of the lovely anon that decided to tell me my characterization of Din is hella off and I realized I don't care if it is because it's my writing and I get to do whatever I want with it. Let me know how I'm doing in the comments and reblogs are always always appreciated. You can add yourself to the taglist here. This is not beta'd btw.

“No silly this isn’t green, it’s blue.” The little girl put her toy away and brought out a new one, giggling at your faux pout as she shoves the new object in your hand and asks you what color you thought it was. You turn it around in your hands, trying your hardest to hide the hurt growing in your chest at not knowing what color it is. You think it’s closer to the first toy she gave you but you’re not sure. You’re never sure. You look at the girl and smile at her before setting the toy aside and wiggling your hands at her. She immediately stands up and screams as you run after her, laughing along with her giggles as you chase her around and watch as more kids join in and run away from you.

You’re not sure how long you’re chasing the little ones and you hear some of them gasp and ‘oooh’ when your young friend runs into a solid figure. You stand up and watch as the girl tears up as she apologizes to the man she just ran into. You’re immediately hugging her and assuring her that everything is okay, turning to the side and narrowing your eyes at the man that scared her half to death.

“Shame on you Mando,” you pretend to smack his shoulder three times and watch as the child in your arms sniffles between laughs when the Mandalorian tries to hide away from you.

“I’m sorry little flower, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You watch as the man reaches for a small bottle in his pocket and slowly hands it to the girl. “Here you go, a token of my apology.”

“It’s okay sweetheart, he’s a nice man...even though he doesn’t look it.” You wink at Boba Fett and giggle along with her when he sighs heavily and pushes the flask into her hand. She takes it and shakes it around, her eyes lighting up when the bottle shimmers at her ministrations and illuminates her hands.

“It’s so pretty! How did you know orange is my favorite color?” The girl slides down your arms and quickly hugs the hunter in front of you before running away and showing her friends. You look at her with longing in your eyes, wishing with all your heart that you saw the gift the same way she saw it.

“Still no color princess?” Fett questions and you shrug your shoulders as you make your way towards Slave I and sit on the ramp.

“Yup, same old same old. Who knows if I’ll ever see color.” There is a hint of hurt in your tone but Fett says nothing as he approaches you and stands to the side. He pats your shoulder once as he takes his helmet off and softly wipes at the visor to clean it.

“Don’t give up, kid. You’re still young...you’ve got all the time in the galaxy and you travel everywhere. You’ll meet them when you least expect it.”

“In this line of work? Yeah, I don’t think so Fett. But at least one of us didn’t lose the positive attitude. If I’m being honest, I was hoping to see color before the next supply run. The chances that I’ll live to go to Pasaana during another Festival of the Ancestors are practically non-existent. I heard they wear so many variations of the same color...maker, it would have been nice to experience that.” You pick up a rock and throw it away as you nervously ring your fingers and brush the conversation aside, not wanting to start the journey with a sour mood.

“Well, lucky for us, we have extra help on this run so it should be quicker. Maybe you’ll see color before you go?” Fett looks up and you follow his line of sight as another ship slowly lands just behind Slave I. You stand up and walk behind your old friend, looking back at the crates to ensure they’re still there before you approach the landing ship.

“Oh no, what poor soul did you manage to rope in this time?” You eye the ship and swear there is something familiar about it but you pay it no mind as Fett puts his helmet back on.

“Hey, I don’t always bend people to my will you know. He volunteered actually...he knows his way around the Narvath Sector and he might even tag along with us to the Forbidden Valley. So, be nice and don’t flirt with him.” Fett warns and you throw your hands up in defeat, failing to hide your smile as you respond with feigned offense.

“I’m not going to flirt with him.” You raise an eyebrow when Fett snorts at your high-pitched voice as he makes his way to the landing ship, and mutters something beneath his breath. The ship powers down after a couple of moments and you take a deep breath when the doors to the docking ramp slide and a figure appears at the corner.

“There he is...took you longer to land this time.” Fett yells to the other Mandalorian, not noticing how you take a few steps back as the man walks down towards the two of you.

“Oh well things just got a little more interesting now.” You break the silence and cringe when the Mandalorian struts past your friend and takes out his blaster. You hold your hands up when he points the weapon at your head and you watch as Fett strides to the two of you and stands in between your body and his brother’s weapon.

“You?” The Mandalorian growls and he tries to step aside and Fett holds his chest and pushes him back.

“Me!” You smile nervously and gulp when Fett turns around and looks at you. You swear you can almost see the look he’s giving you but you say nothing and hope that he can handle this situation for you.

“Oh.” You would have laughed at Fett’s response if there wasn’t a bounty hunter standing not five feet away from you and killing you a thousand different ways.

“You two know each other?” Fett breaks the silence and continues to stand between the two of you, knowing his friend’s short temper and your dumb comments might escalate this situation.

“I wouldn’t say we know each other. I’d say we met very briefly on-” You try to explain what happened the last time you saw the Mandalorian but he cuts you off. He pushes his blaster into its holster and you sigh heavily but keep your hands raised, afraid he'll change his mind any second and try to shoot you again.

“You almost blew up my ship!” The Mandalorian yells and you jump at his exclamation. His irritation seeps into your skin and you narrow your eyes at him as you walk around Fett and begin to nudge at the beskar armor with one finger. Your anger at his unfairness outgrows your fear of what he can do to you and you continue to push on his chest plate as you talk back at him and ignore Fett’s whispers to let it go.

“I did no such thing. I merely tried to fix your shitty cooling radiator panels but you scared the fuck out of me when you came up behind me and suggested I switch the parts, hence why I dropped the cauterizer and burned through the wires. So technically, you almost blew up your ship.” You’re breathing heavily and you’re sure your nose is flaring from how annoyed you are by the man in front of you. A few seconds pass between the two of you and it’s not until the Mandalorian tilts his head that you realize what you’ve just said and done. You take your hands away and swallow the growing lump in your throat as you step back and apologize a few times before you walk to the crates.

The Mandalorian stands there in silence, never once looking away from you retreating form, even when Boba Fett comes and stands him.

He’s missed this, and more than he preferred to admit.

“Little princess is fiery today.” Fett comments and notices when his friend turns and stares at him through the visor. The Mandalorian says nothing as he walks away from Fett and follows you. You’re in the middle of counting the supplies in the crates when you hear the crunching of footsteps approaching you. Thinking it’s Fett that’s come to help you move the supplies, you roll up your sleeves and ask him to take the opposite side.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at your brother. I was just annoyed because I was only trying to help and he scared me.” When you look up and see that it was the Mandalorian and not your friend, you drop the crate and stare at him. He says nothing as he picks up his end of the large box and waits for you to mirror his actions before he begins to walk back to his ship. Neither of you say anything as you go back and forth until all the crates are on his ship. You walk out and stand next to Fett, waiting for his instructions to see whether you were going to go with him or with the new member of the crew.

“So what’s the plan?” You avoid the Mandalorian standing next to you and turn your body towards Fett, hoping that he’d say that you were tagging along with him.

“You’re going to go with him.” You cease to breathe at his command and clench your fists when you recognize his tone. He’s not leaving room for negotiation.

“W-why?” The Mandalorian walks back to his ship at your question and you pout when you realize that he may have misunderstood your inquiry. Not that it mattered whether or not he misunderstood...

“Fennec...we’ll meet you at Iktotchon.” You look to the ground and shuffle your feet against the sand, turning back to him and nodding quietly as you follow behind the Mandalorian.

“And princess!” Fett calls for you and you glance at him when you reach the top of the ramp.

“Hmm?”

“Try not to get into too much trouble.” You look at him with annoyance and shake your head when you realize he’s just teasing you. Standing at the large doors of the ship, you glimpse one last time at Mos Eisley before you make your way into the heart of the ship. A few moments later, the ship powers up and you watch as the barrier raises and locks just as light filters through the area. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do or where you’re allowed to go so you remain standing where you are. Not a minute later, you jump when a voice breaks the silence and booms through the ship.

“Come up to the cockpit.”

You take a deep, calming breath as you set your things to the side and ascend the ladder to the cockpit. You come face to face with a door and you’re about to knock when it slides open and reveals the Mandalorian sitting in the pilot chair.

“Sit down and buckle up.” He says as he flicks on buttons across the board. He turns his head towards you to make sure that you’re buckled in before he raises the throttle levers and begins to take off. You hold back from saying something snarky as the turbulence gets worse, only shutting your eyes when it gets to be too much. You’re not sure how long you’re sitting there with your hands clasping the leather of the chair but it’s only when you hear the seat in front of you turning that you realize you were already in space.

You frown when you open your eyes and see the Mandalorian already looking at you, the tilt of his helmet letting you know that he was silently mocking you.

“What?” You break the silence and watch as he rights himself before he turns around and pushes the auto-pilot button.

“You’re a supply dealer who hates flying.” It’s more of a question than a comment and you can’t help but narrow your eyes when he stands up and continues to stare at you.

“So?”

“Not a good quality of life.” If you’re surprised by his response, you try not to show it as you stand up and face him defensively like before.

“Says the man who wears beskar armor every minute of the day.” It’s a low blow and you know you have no right involving his religion. But you’re fed up with his passive aggressiveness and you want to make sure he knows that he can’t talk down to you.

The Mandalorian turns away and looks at the passing stars of the galaxy, softly whispering for you to follow him as he exits the cockpit. You want to apologize for what you said but you hold back instead, following him down the ladder and standing to the side when you see him moving things around.

“This is my cot, and that right there is yours.” He points to two doors across from each other at the end of the hallway and waits for your confirmation before he walks past them and shows you the refresher.

“Help yourself to any of the rations. We’ll arrive at Iktotchon in four sleeping cycles so there should be enough food for the two of us until we get there.” You’re not sure what makes you reach for his wrist when he turns around to walk away. He stands still and looks down at the hand grasping his beskar before he looks at you.

“S-sorry...I- umm, are you coming to Pasaana?” You ring your fingers nervously as you look at yourself in his visor, taking two steps back when he straightens up and looks down at your hands.

“You’re going to the Festival of the Ancestors.”

“Yes. Well, it’s me, Mando, and Fennec. So I was just wondering, you know, if there was...if you had anything lined up after this supply run. Because if not, you can tag along...it only happens every-”

“42 years. I know.” He cuts you off and you’re not sure if his body-language seems more open or not but within a few seconds of chatting with him, he’s suddenly relaxing and leaning back against the metal wall. He’s silent for longer than you prefer so you force a smile and rub the back of your neck awkwardly as you prepare to tell him to forget that you asked since he probably has more important matters to handle.

“Ok.” It’s a simple response yet you feel your skin heat up as he nods at you and walks to his quarters. He hesitates at the door for a moment before he pushes the button and steps into the privacy of his room.

You let out a deep breath and stand in your spot for a few minutes before you slip back to the docking space to bring your belongings to the room. The ship is surprisingly more quiet than others you’ve been on and you remember what he told you about it the last time you saw him. A faint memory of how he defended the size of his ship makes you giggle. Then again, you’ve heard from Peli about the piece of junk he had before this and knew that it was barely considered as machinery.

“Maker, how am I going to make it four days on this ship with him?” You shake your head as you prepare to go to bed. The twin suns were just setting on Tatooine when you were leaving and you knew it was better to get as much sleep in as possible considering how quickly things sometimes escalated on these kinds of runs.

Surprisingly, things weren’t too bad when you left your sleeping cot the following day. The Mandalorian was already awake and cleaning his weapons. You bid him a quick good morning as you moved past him and looked for some snacks. He didn’t seem like he wanted to converse with you so you opted to stay in your room for the remainder of your waking hours. A voice in your head told you to keep the door open in case he did want to chat eventually but as you thought, he never once disturbed you.

The second day on the ship was perhaps slightly more eventful. Although he continued to pass his time in silence, he did manage to ask you to help him fix something in the cockpit. You were shocked he requested your services with ease and said nothing as he stood aside and watched you tinker away with the radar display screen. He thanked you twice when you finished and told you that he’d let you know if he needed your help with anything else.

The third day, however, made you wish you could open the docking doors and throw yourself out in space. You hadn’t seen him all morning long and you thought it was probably because he wanted some privacy in the cockpit. By the middle of the day, you jumped out of your cot and grabbed some spare clothes as you headed to the refresher, wanting to shower once before you landed on the sand-filled planet the following. As you walked to the door and pushed the button, you were met with a heavy fog escaping the room. When the fog cleared, you dropped your clothes and slammed your hands on your eyes, immediately backing away from the room as the Mandalorian scrambled to wrap something around his waist. You weren’t sure how many times you apologized in the span of one minute but when you heard the familiar sound of a blaster turning on, you stood in silence and waited for him to say something.

“Pfassk, do you have no kriffing regard for privacy?” He growled through the vocoder and you shook your head to try and explain to him that you saw nothing but his back.

“I- maker, I’m so sorry. I swear on my life I didn’t see anything except your back. I didn’t know you were in there...I really didn’t or else I wouldn't have gone in.” You sigh in relief when you hear him murmur to himself as he sets down the blaster and shuffles around in search of his clothes.

“What do you mean you didn’t know I was in there? The red light was on, which usually means someone is in the fucking refresher using it.” Hearing him swear shouldn’t make you shiver and yet you do. When you notice that he’s gone still, you assume it’s safe to look at him again. Taking a deep breath, you turn around and lower your hands as you muster up the courage to try and explain to him why you couldn’t see the red light.

And boy was that a mistake. You regret removing your hands from your eyes as soon as you take a good look at him. Turns out, the beskar armor only made him look more intimidating. The man was large, made to be a hunter. He was broad-shouldered, muscular in all the right places and soft in others. You unintentionally frown when you see his bronze skin littered with scars of all shapes and sizes. Maker, the life he led was worse than you thought.

“I- uhh, I don’t...I couldn’t see it.” You hated how much your voice broke when you tried to explain yourself. As much as you wanted to blame it on being afraid of him, you knew it was less about the danger he exuded and more about the fact that you could see more of his skin than you thought you ever would.

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t know it was red.” You knew none of what you were saying was making sense but this wasn’t exactly a situation that you thought you’d find yourself having to deal with, and with the Mandalorian of all people.

“Are you fucking with me?” He was less hostile than earlier but his words were still spoken aggressively. You couldn’t blame him really, especially when you knew how strict his religion was.

“N-no. I- my species doesn’t see color until- well, it doesn’t matter. My species doesn’t see color. We just see grays. I’m sorry...I should have asked before if there was anything I needed to learn about the ship that required me seeing colors. It escaped me. I’ll try to pay more attention...I promise you I saw nothing.” You take one last glance at the heaving, glistening body in front of you before you turn around and walk in your room. You shut the door behind you this time, knowing that he probably wanted some of his privacy back and that he would need to limit himself should you keep it open.

It’s not until a few hours later that you sit up when you hear a soft knock on your door. You stand up and push open the barrier, finding the Mandalorian standing in front of you with his helmet looking straight at your reluctant expression. You wait for him to say something and when he doesn’t, you raise your eyebrows and silently ask him if he needs anything.

“I didn’t know about your...I didn’t know. And I didn’t mean to scare you with the blaster either, it’s a reflex to- umm.” You nod at him and look down to see what he’s holding in his hands. “You left your clothes lying on the floor.” He pushes the fabric towards you and averts his eyes when he sees your undergarments peaking through the shirt. You thank him as you set them down on your bag and look into his visor again.

“Ad'ika?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.” The whispered exclamation does little to calm your nerves and you’re not sure what to say to him so you nod and awkwardly smile into the shiny beskar helmet. The Mandalorian murmurs a quick ‘good night’ before he makes his way to the cockpit, leaving you as confused as ever.

You don’t get an ounce of sleep that night, the image of him in nothing but a helmet and some flimsy pants making you wish he had shot you with his blaster instead. You refuse to admit the rising emotions you’re beginning to feel towards him, mostly because it didn’t matter whether or not he reciprocated them.

You still couldn’t see color.

He wasn’t your soulmate.

You’re afraid to leave the room the next morning, not sure which version of the Mandalorian you were going to have to deal with. It turns out, there was nothing to worry about because not surprisingly, you got the quiet, slightly shy man chatting with you. He pretends nothing happened the previous day and you go along with it. You’re just about to enter the atmosphere of Iktotchon when you receive a hologram from Fett telling the two of you of the sandstorm passing through the meeting point.

As you buckle into the seat behind the Mandalorian, he takes a moment to turn around and call for you.

“There’s going to be turbulence.”

“I- I know.” You barely hold back from furrowing your eyebrows at his comment but then he turns around to face you completely and you narrow your eyes at him with suspicion.

“I’ve landed on worse planets.” It takes you a few extra seconds to realize what he’s attempting to do and you can’t help but laugh and break the moment. You quiet down when he turns around and begins to descend to the planet.

“Are you worried about little old me Mandalorian?” You try to distract yourself from the sudden, harsh shaking of the ship but the teasing does little to calm your nerves when you realize that the sandstorm was as bad as Fett made it sound. You shut your eyes and try to picture the calm nights you’re so used to on Tatooine.

“You know, you can just call me Mando.” His voice breaks you out of your haze and you growl in response when you hear a few sounds go off above you.

“No, I- I can’t call you that. I reserved it for the other guy already!”

“You mean the Mandalorian who already told you his name?” He claps back and chuckles when you sigh in irritation at his question.

“Fine okay you’re right. How about this? Can you land this fucking ship without killing the two of us Mando?” You’re screaming at the top of your lungs and grasp the belt around your torso harder when you don’t hear back from him.

“Mando?”

“You mean the ship I already landed ad’ika?” Your eyes shoot wide open and you look around frantically, only to see that most of the turbulence you experienced was due to the sand and gravel hitting the metal of the ship.

“Oh...that was- not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Anything beats Maldo Kreis.” Mando says as he stands there across from you and the slight tilt of his helmet at your confused expression makes you realize he may not have meant to say that out loud.

“We need to go. The storm will only get worse if we wait until night.” You nod in agreement and follow him out of the cockpit to the docking station. Mando instantly regrets lowering the docking ramp when he sees gravel quickly entering the ship. You run to your room to grab the helmet you brought with you and lock it in as you return to help him with the crates.

It’s a difficult few hours on the planet, and you grow more irritated when the Ikotchi threatens you with less supply exchanges. When his demeanor suddenly changes and he asks you to take the crates and leave, you thank him and quickly take the crates up the ramp with Fennec before he changes his mind. You never once notice both Mandalorians as they subtly push their blasters back into their holsters.

You’re leaving Iktotchon later than you prefer, mostly because both bounty hunters find themselves in a heated argument that Fennec has to end not-so-gently. You don’t bother asking Mando what the issue was when you see him strutting into the cockpit, quickly strapping yourself in when he glances at you to make sure you’re safe.

It’s a rough take off for both his ship and Slave I, but you say nothing of it, knowing that he might not appreciate any light teasing at the moment. Once you’re out of the planet’s atmosphere, Mando puts in the coordinates for Pasaana and sends a hologram to Fett, letting him know that you would be reaching the planet in less than a day.

You want to ask him if you could help in any way but you decide against it and leave him to his thoughts. You want nothing more than to take a long, hot shower to rid yourself of all the sand that managed to seep into your clothes. But then you notice the state of the docking area and before you can talk yourself out of it, you look around for anything that resembles a sweeper and clean as much of the floor as you can. You’re thankful that Mando doesn’t leave the cockpit and when you’re done, you go back into your room to grab a change of clothes so you could use the refresher.

You think you hear Mando passing by your room but you say nothing and make your way to the refresher, halting in your steps when you look at the light and find it turned off.

Great.

“Mando? Are you in there?” You’re not sure if he can hear you or not so you try to ask him again a little louder.

“Mando!? Are you i-”

“No.” You jump as soon as you hear him respond from behind you. Turning around, you clutch at your chest when you see him standing in front of his door without the beskar armor.

“I- uhh, t-there’s no light. And I wasn’t sure what that meant really.” You’re ringing your fingers again, and hope that he doesn’t notice just how nervous you are in his presence.

“Well I- I rewired the electrical circuits of the refresher so you know when it’s occupied and when it isn’t. If the light is on, it means I’m in there, and if it isn’t, then it’s free for use. No more colores.”

You look at him as if he took off his helmet, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that he went out of his way to accommodate you when you’re only on his ship for another few days.

“Thank you,” is all you manage to say before you push the door and scramble in. Mando looks at the door for another few minutes before he remembers that he hasn’t eaten in a while. He cooks up a meal for two quickly and eats his share before you finish your shower. When he hears you walking out, he sits in his usual corner and brings out his weapons to polish them.

You smell food as soon as you walk out of the refresher and you throw your clothes on your cot before you make your way to the large space across the hallway. You’re about to ask Mando about the food situation when you see a plate opposite of him on the table.

“It’s yours.” Mando breaks the silence as he wipes in between the crevasses of his blaster, nodding towards the space in front of him to let you know that you could join him,

“Thank you Mando.”

Neither of you say anything as you inhale your dinner and it’s not until you’ve washed your plates and set them aside that Mando decides to break the silence.

“Can I ask you something?”

“S-sure.” You think he’s going to ask you what it’s like to not see colors and to only see gradations of gray but his question catches you off guard.

“When can your species see color?” If you were uncomfortable by his question, you did a good job hiding it from him. Mando watches as you push off the wall and return to sit in front of him, lazily pushing around the towel he was holding as you answer him.

“This might sound stupid and I’m usually told that it’s not real but I’ve seen those of my kind experience the second they could see color so I know it’s not just a fable we’re told when we’re young. Basically, we see color when we meet our soulmates.” Mando’s heart breaks when you throw him a forced smile, one he’s seen a million times looking back at him in the mirror.

“Your soulmate?”

“Yup, the person I’m destined to be with. My other half. The one that will belong to me and I to him.” Mando nods along with you as he stands up and hangs up his weapons one by one.

“I know what you’re thinking. What’s someone like me going to do at the Festival of the Ancestors? Honestly, I think it’ll be fun to attend it whether or not I can see the colors. It’s a rich culture so I’m sure I’ll enjoy it either way.”

“I can always walk around with you and describe to you the colors, t-the patterns even. If...if you want.” His suggestion throws you off guard and as earlier, you gape at him as you try to figure out what he was playing at. You think he’s pulling your leg and will laugh at you at any moment, but when he doesn’t, you realize that he’s being dead serious.

“That would be nice Mando. I might not see the colors but I could always imagine what they look like next to each other.”

And just like that, the conversation is over as quickly as it begins.

“Good night mesh’la.” Mando murmurs as he makes his way to his quarters, leaving you more hopeful than you’ve felt in a long while.

It’s a weird thing to admit but for the first time in years, you don’t go to sleep wishing you could wake up and see colors. No. You doze off wondering what it would feel like to hold his hand and maybe, just maybe, kiss it. You think of how soft his untouched skin must feel like and how calloused his scarred muscles would look.

When you dream that night, you see faint images of his lips caressing yours and his firm arms bringing you into his embrace.

And you wake up with a lazy smile etched on your face because those dreams, those sweet, lovely memories your brain conjured up during the night, felt as good as seeing color.

You can’t look at him for the duration of the morning, constantly pretending that you’re doing something or other so he doesn’t think you’re avoiding him because the last thing you wanted was to make him think you didn’t want to talk to him. But you just can’t find it in yourself to look into his visor. Every time you so much as glance at the beskar helmet, you remember what your subconscious conjured up and you stutter out a response to whatever he says.

Not surprisingly, Mando notices the shift in your behavior and he waits until you finish fixing the crates’ locks, which were clearly not broken, before he approaches you.

“Mesh’la.”

“Yes Mando?” You’re still not looking at him and Mando starts to genuinely believe that he’s done something wrong. When you try to walk past him to place the tool back in your room, Mando reaches out and takes hold of your wrist before you’re out of reach. You look at his gloved hand wrapped around your skin before you meet his eyes past his visor and Mando holds his breath because for a moment, he thinks you can see straight through him.

“You’re angry with me.”

You never realize until this moment that Mando tends to ask most of his questions in the form of a statement and it’s strange. It’s strange because it never occurred to you that he’s the type to perhaps jump to conclusions when he can’t read the situation. Setting the tool box down, you stand up and fix your shirt as you muster up the courage to respond to him.

“I’m not. I’m not angry with you. I’m- it’s...difficult to explain.” His hold loosens but he’s standing in your space and you think it’s because he’s not totally convinced by your answer and won’t let it go until you give him a proper explanation for the sudden change in your treatment.

“It’s difficult to explain why you’re not angry with me.”

There it goes again, that weird phrasing of his inner thoughts. You huff in irritation and Mando misunderstands your annoyed expression so he steps away and turns to look everywhere else but you.

“No, Mando...maker- yes it’s difficult to explain because you’re- no, not you. It’s not your fault it’s mine. I’m just not used to- gods why is this so hard?” You’re visibly stressed and it must be a sight because Mando comes back to stand in front of you and he rests one hand on your shoulder, waiting until you turn to look at him before he tries to break the anxiety-inducing silence.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I- I shouldn’t have offered to walk through the festival with you. I should have thought of how uncomfortable you’d feel before I selfishly asked t-” You perk up at his choice in words and you’re about to ask him what he meant by what he said but he doesn’t give you a chance. “Please believe me when I tell you I only wanted to...I thought it might help.”

“You see, this is exactly why I’m avoiding you.” You’re not sure who’s more surprised by your little outburst but when his hold tightens around your shoulder, you think maybe it’s him.

“So you are avoiding me.”

“Yes okay? I am, I’m avoiding you because the last few days felt like a whiplash of emotions and I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. One minute you’re angry and quiet and it’s as if I’m not in the same space as you, and the next thing I know, you’re rewiring your damn ship so I know how to use it and then offering to pretty much waste your time during one of the most beautiful festivals in the galaxy just to make sure I’m enjoying myself. And...and it’s difficult because I feel myself falling but I don’t want to because I’m afraid...I’m afraid you won’t be there to catch me...because you don’t have to. Because why would you when-”

You’re not sure how you got to this moment but all you know is that you're’ suddenly surrounded by Mando and the cold beskar armor and his natural musk and this unique woodsy scent and it’s-

It’s breathtaking.

“Cyar’ika, I didn’t know...I didn’t know I was causing you this much distress. It’s difficult for me to- to speak my he- to speak at times. I wasn’t thinking of how I’m coming off and I was so busy trying to figure out my- my own feelings...that I didn’t stop and think of what you must be going through.” His voice is low and you think perhaps that it’s breaking with every word he whispers through the vocoder, so you do the only thing you think of at the moment. Reluctantly, you wrap as much of your arms around him as physically possible, hoping he’d understand that you were listening to him and no longer trying to ignore him.

“Mando-”

“I- I volunteered for this supply run.” You’re not sure how this relates to this current affair but you sink further into his embrace, hoping that he wouldn’t shy away from explaining why he’s bringing this up now.

“I know. Fett told me.”

“Did he tell you why?” Mando replies instantly and you furrow your eyebrows even though you know he can’t see you.

“N-no.”

“I- I couldn’t stop thinking of you. Ever since the last time I saw you, I’ve been at war with myself, with what I was allowing to happen. I knew you weren’t to blame with the cauterizer but I couldn’t accept my heart letting you...maker, I can see why you said this is difficult.” He chuckles nervously and you hold your breath in anticipation because he isn’t, he can’t be admitting what you think he is.

“W-what’re you saying Mando?”

“I’m saying I need you cyar’ika. I’m saying, I’ve been dreaming of you for the past 53 sleeping cycles. I’m saying, I can’t bear the thought of not seeing you after Pasaana.” You don’t realize how long you’ve been holding your breath until you exhale against him and Mando pulls away, keeping his helmet aimed to the floor as he continues. “And if- if you can give me a chance, I’d like to- I’d like to...well, I’m not exactly sure what you enjoy doing but I’d like to do it with you. You don't have to give me an answer now. I know I’m being selfish and I know that I- I don’t belong with you because you haven't seen color yet. But please, please consider this. Consider me.” His voice is much more reserved, lower even, than before and you realize it’s because he was probably considering not telling you up until now.

Your heart breaks at his last words because this was never something you thought you’d have to deal with. But looking back at the last few days, no matter how confusing or strange they were, you can’t help but admit how alive you’ve felt.

You know he doesn’t expect you to answer him right away and you know you should take some time to think over what he’s asking of you.

So when you lay both of your hands on his chest and ask him to look at you, Mando thinks you’re going to reject him and you feel his muscles tense when you step closer to him.

“I do...I- I am considering this Mando, I have been for the past few nights if I’m being honest...it’s actually part of the reason why I couldn’t look at you today. I woke up with this unusual thought, well, unusual to me. It’s been so long since I stopped thinking about seeing color and directed all of my attention to something, or rather, someone else.” You smile up into the visor and slowly reach to rest your hand on the space between his helmet and his cowl. The mere touch of your skin shakes him to his core and Mando has to clench his fists so he doesn’t lose control over himself.

“Today was the first time I woke up not caring if I hadn’t seen color because- because being with you, and- and talking with you and staying on this ship with you felt like I’ve already seen color. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I do...if I do, but I know that I’d like to give this, us, a shot.”

“You...you do mesh’la?” He almost sounds like a young child asking his parents for permission to have something and when you nod at him, Mando can’t hold back anymore. He wraps his arms around you once more, and carries you off the ground, smiling to himself when he hears you giggling at his dramatic display of affection.

He pulls away and you think he’s about to say something but a message comes through to the ship and Mando apologizes quickly before he ascends to the cockpit. You stay planted in your spot for what feels like hours before you hear Mando telling you that you’re nearing Pasaana. When you get to the cockpit and take your usual seat, Mando rises from his chair and approaches you, kneeling down at your feet to buckle your belt easier and ensure that you’re safe. It’s a small gesture but you know he’s conveying a thousand emotions in that little tap to make sure that you’re buckled in properly and when you smile at him, he reaches over and pushes a stray hair behind your ears before he returns to his pilot chair.

You don’t feel the turbulence once, mostly because you’re too busy replaying the brief moment over and over again in your mind until you’re sure you’ve committed it to memory.

Mando has to tap on your shoulder twice once he lands, and you nod in affirmation when he asks if you were feeling alright. The two of you make your way out of the ship just as Slave I lands. When you glance at Mando to ask him about the argument between him and Fett, you find him already staring at you. You smile at him and watch as he looks away apologetically. Maybe he really was as nervous as you.

“You’re coming along then?” Fett says to Mando as you make your way towards the desert and you pretend to focus on the dozens of kites flying in the air, unsure whether you were meant to be a part of this conversation or not.

Mando replies in Mando’a and you look to Fennec to ask her something about the kites to try and ignore the two men who may or may not have been talking about you. You’re about to ask Fennec about the colors of the flying toys when Mando steps in between the two of you and takes hold of your upper arm, pushing you ahead of the others so he could get a private moment with you.

“Is- are you okay?”

“Fine. He’s being difficult.” His curt answer lets you know that he wasn’t going to reveal what that whole ordeal was about so you nod and try to fall in step with him. You’re about to ask him about the colors of the kites when Mando leans over and whispers in your ears.

“Those two over there are red, like the color of the twin suns on Tatooine when they’re just setting. And, that one over there, the large one flying higher than the rest, it’s a dark blue...like the night sky.” You try to not let the proximity of his body affect you but the more he tells you of the colors, the closer you want him to get to you.

“That smaller one is light green, like many of the plants on Felucia.”

“I’ve never been to Felucia.” You admit to him as you keep your gaze on the kites, trying to differentiate between the colors but barely noticing a difference between the grays.

“I can take you there.” He offers with ease and you look into the visor and smile at him. “I’d like that.”

You can vaguely feel their eyes on you but you don’t bother to pay attention to them, wanting to spend as much time with Mando as you could. Once you reach the edge of the festival, you thank the Aki-Aki that approach you and wrap a necklace of flowers around you. You laugh when they reluctantly look at Mando and he sighs heavily at your death stare before he leans down and allows one of them to place a necklace around his cowl as well.

“Hey Mando?”

“Hmm.”

“Do the necklaces look the same?” Mando turns around and sees Fett and Fennec look away from the two of you. He waits until they walk the opposite direction before he looks at you and takes hold of your necklace.

“Yours have lighter colors...yellow, orange, white, pink and a few light greens here and there. Mine is darker. This is purple, and these are blue...and all of these are dark red and brown.” He points to each of the flowers and tells you its color, never once noticing the way you’re looking at him and hanging onto every single word he says.

When you hear the sound of distant music playing, you take Mando’s hand and make your way through the crowd, telling him that you want to see what they’re doing on the other side of the festival. Mando says nothing as you pull him through, only responding when you directly ask him about the color of the caravan fabrics and laughing when you joke about how he technically blends into the surroundings. And when you come across a large crate that you can vaguely see some designs on, Mando offers to make room for it on his ship so you can get it. It’s a long argument between the two of you but he wins in the end, telling you that he genuinely wanted to gift you something that you can remember him with and might enjoy some day. You almost cry at the unspoken implications of his words but when he shrugs his shoulders and hands over the credits, you quietly thank him and let the seller know that you’ll be taking it before you leave.

Over the next few hours, Mando never leaves your side once, even when you tell him that he should enjoy his time as well. You notice how he changes the subject every time you ask him to explore by himself and giggle when he responds with an opinion on some of the color combinations. It’s quite comical to be in the presence of such an intimidating individual who’s complaining about how ‘that blue doesn’t go too well with this red.’

As you’re making your way through the different caravans, you notice a table displaying a dozen large cloaks. Turning to Mando, you see that he’s busy asking one of the sellers if they have similar shirts but in darker colors. You walk to the table on the other side and look through the capes to try and differentiate between them. When you realize that it’s of no use, you hold one up and call for him to ask if he should buy a new one.

“Hey Mando, maybe you should get this instead of-”

The question dies in your throat when Mando glances away from the vendor and holds your gaze. Your brain refuses to catch up with what your eyes are seeing for what feels like an eternity and your hand flies to your chest and clench it tightly as your heart skips a beat at the sight in front of you. It takes a few seconds for you to inhale deeply when you realize that you aren’t breathing and you feel your heart skip a beat when you watch Mando strut towards you. He drops what he’s holding in his hands and takes a few strides in your way, not caring to hold back as he wraps one arm around your waist while the other rests on your neck and tilts your head so he could take a better look at you. You still can’t wrap your mind around what just happened and you’re not sure what he’s saying until he lightly shakes you in his arms and raises his voice to grab your attention.

Maker, his voice was unlike anything you’ve ever heard. It was hoarse yet calming, the kind of calming that one could only dream of feeling.

“Mesh’la, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” His voice shakes you to your core and your eyes shift down to his lips, tilting your head to the side when you follow the scruff peppering his handsome features and memorize the different colors of his hair. Gods, you couldn’t put a name to any of them but you knew you liked the combination of the light and dark outlining his sharp jaw.

“I- I don’t...maker. You’re...you’re-” You’re unable to form a coherent thought and as you reach out to touch his cheeks, Mando clenches his jaw but doesn’t dare to move a muscle. He realizes that this is the first time you see him without his helmet and he finds himself praying that you find him, at the very least, okay to look at. His hold on you eases when he feels the palm of your hand caress the side of his face before you push his hair aside. Mando nuzzles into your touch and he shuts his eyes to commit this moment to memory. The last time someone was this gentle with him broke his heart, but he found himself longing for a similar feeling with you. Only if it was you.

“N-no...please. Look at me.” Your whispered request drowns out the music of the festival and Mando’s eyes flutter open immediately. He looks down at you and can’t help but shift his focus to your parted lips as you try to speak again.

“Mando? What...what color are your eyes?” You hold your breath as Mando’s gaze softens when he meets your eyes again. He doesn’t know why you’re asking but he answers you anyway.

“Brown.” His voice breaks but then you’re smiling up at him as you reach for his cheek with your other hand and rest it on his heated skin. He’s not sure what brought about any of this but he can’t care less, not when you were here, in his arms, touching him so gently and looking at him like he was the only one that mattered across the galaxy.

“Hmm...they’re a beautiful color.” The admission sends a shiver down his spine and he doesn’t register the meaning behind your words until he sees your expression change to one of panicked shock.

Oh.

“You can see color?” Mando doesn’t intend to sound so accusative but his tone must have been harsh because you nod and snatch your hands away from him as if he’s burned you. You don’t dare look anywhere else as the reality of the situation settles in your mind.

It’s him. It’s been him all along.

“I- I can see color.”

Mando watches as you blink in confusion before you look to the side. You do a double-take when you see the vibrant colors of the festival and Mando steps away as you walk around him and approach a caravan hanging clothing of all color gradations. You ignore everything else as you softly trace the different colors and patterns on the garments before you walk over to the next little cart and stare at the vibrant jewelry. There’s so much to take in and you forget for a moment where you are. When you look away and turn your eyes to the sky, you can’t help but smile at seeing the kites gliding through the air. You don’t know which one you want to focus on because they’re all so pretty so you stand in there for a few moments to take it all in.

It’s not until you feel a presence next to you that you remember how you came to see this new world. When you begin to ring your fingers anxiously, Mando takes a step towards you and takes your hands in his palms.

“Cyar’ika, do you need anything?” He doesn’t know what to say and your lungs refuse to expand when you finally look at him again.

You spent years conjuring up different scenarios in your head to try and anticipate what to expect when you finally meet your soulmate. But standing here, in front of Mando, in the middle of the Festival of the Ancestors, you realize that this compares to nothing.

“I- I don’t…”

“If you want me to go-”

“No! N-no, please. Stay here with me. Stay here with...me.” Y

ou tighten your hold around his hands to prevent him from leaving. Mando nods and turns back to the caravan he was standing by to grab his helmet. You say nothing as he carries it and looks at you, but your eyes must give you away because Mando throws you a quick smile as he keeps it on his side and leads you through the festival.

Neither of you discuss the new development but you don’t ignore it either. You continue to steal glances from each other every now and then, especially when Mando leans over and tells you about each of the colors. Except this time, he doesn’t tell you so you could imagine what they look like. He tells you so you could memorize what each pigment is and begin to recognize them on your own. It’s almost as if nothing changed with how often Mando describes to you the gradations and patterns, but you know that this was far from the truth. And with the way Mando breathes softly against your forehead when he leans down to talk to you, you sense that he knows this as well.

He’s much more forward with his touches now, perhaps even a little shameless too. Hours ago, he would apologize if he pushed you by accident or shifted closer to you. But now, he was walking with you with one hand on your lower back and he would stand longer behind you as you asked about a new color shade.

As the sun slowly sets across the sky, you turn to Mando and wait for him to finish his drink before you ask him about the others.

“Do you mind if we don’t tell the others just yet?” You watch as Mando’s expression falls and you shake your head immediately so he doesn’t misunderstand the reason behind your request.

“Not because I don’t want them to know about us, I- maker, it’s just that I’ve experienced so many changes in the span of a few days and I want to make sense of things without...without someone asking me too many questions about what I’m feeling. I want to let this sink in? And- and I’d like it if it’s just you and me. Please.” Mando is quiet for a while and you think that maybe it was the wrong thing to say to him.

“Us?”

You can’t hold back your laughter at the soft question and you almost fall over from how hard you’re giggling at him.

“That’s what you took away from everything I just said?” You sigh in relief when he mirrors you and chuckles in return.

“I’m sorry cyar’ika, I- of course. Whatever you need from me.” He’s a man of few words but he somehow knows what to say to calm your nerves.

“Thank you Mando.” You say as you turn your attention back to the setting sun to watch the colors change across the sky.

“Din Djarin.” He whispers to you after a long while, and you meet his eyes briefly, your furrowed eyebrows silently asking him what he was referring to.

“My name is Din Djarin.” His gaze is piercing and you find it much more intense now that you know for a fact that they’re your favorite color. “So you can start calling the other guy Mando again.” Your heart skips a beat when you see dimples appear on his cheeks as he grins at his own joke, and nudges your shoulder so you could relax into him again. You say nothing and lean against his shoulder, resting your head on his beskar armor and enjoying the cold sensation against your heated skin.

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit there in your bubble and watch the festival as it continues on for, but you’re interrupted when Fett approaches you and clears his throat to catch your attention.

“We’re leaving.” The Mandalorian says as he watches you closely. You think you’re being subtle studying his armor but Fett notices how you continue to look between him and Din’s and he tilts his head to the side as he turns to his friend and barely holds back from smirking at him.

Din nods and lets them know that you would be returning with him back to Mos Eisley. Fennec is about to ask why the two of you are acting differently when Fett shakes his head as he looks at you.

“Until next time princess,” Din’s posture straightens when he hears the nickname and narrows his eyes at the man trying to get a rise out of him.

“Usenye.” You snap out of your haze when you hear Din growl at his brother and wave goodbye to him and Fennec as they walk away from you.

“Is everything okay between the two of you?”

“Yes sweet girl, don’t worry about it.” You flush at the pet name and Din notices how you shiver at his touch when he raises your chin to take a better look at you. He slowly leans towards you, never once breaking eye contact as he grows closer to your lips. “Is- is this okay?” He asks and refuses to move a muscle until you respond to him. You’re already breathless and he has barely touched you but you muster up the courage to answer him.

“Y-yes.”

He smirks when your hoarse voice fans over his cheeks and as much as you wish for him to take whatever he wants, you’re thankful that he’s being patient with you and ensuring that you’re comfortable.

“Sweet girl,” Din whispers as he finally captures your lips in a chaste kiss. It’s at this precise moment that the festivities begin to pick up but you don’t notice the fireworks filling the skies or the music growing louder. You shut your eyes and hold onto Din’s wrists as he moves against you and deepens the kiss. When you gasp at his ministrations, Din’s hold on your neck tightens and he pushes you back until you lay on the blanket he set down for you. You moan as he slips his tongue past your lips and swirls his tongue across yours. Fisting your hands into his cowl, you try to pull him closer but cry out in pain when the beskar armor digs into your hips.

“I’m- I’m sorry mesh’la. I didn’t mean to-”

“No no it’s...it’s just your armor. I promise, I- I liked this.” You gulp nervously when you see an amused expression take over his handsome features.

“Is that so?” You don’t have time to react to his question, squealing in surprise when he suddenly stands up and pulls you along with him.

“What- where are we going?” You ask him as he pulls you through the multitude of visitors and Aki-Aki. He stops abruptly and speaks to one of the natives before he pushes you into the caravan standing behind him.

“Din, we can’t just-”

“I asked for his permission. Don’t you know, all of these are for visitors who want to stay the night.” You’re about to ask him why you’re staying the night out here instead of his ship but you can’t seem to form the question because you see Din taking his armor off.

It’s mesmerizing watching him take each beskar piece apart but when he’s down to just his clothes, it occurs to you that this night might be going somewhere else. Your nervousness must show on your face because Din walks towards you slowly and takes your hands in his. He kisses your wrists before leans over and rests his forehead against yours.

“Don’t worry cyar’ika, I’m not… I won’t- we’re not here to do anything other than talk. I didn’t feel comfortable taking my beskar off out there so-”

“I trust you Din.” You interrupt his word-vomit and lead him to one of the corners of the tent so you could lay down next to each other. When you rest your head on the pillow and finally look up, you’re met with a small opening in the ceiling of the caravan that gives you a perfect view of the blue night sky lighting up with fireworks.

When Din finally seats himself next to you, you whine in irritation and pull him down until he’s on his back next to you. Din never once lets go of your hand and he occasionally raises the palm of your hand to his lips to kiss across the skin.

“Can I ask you something?” You don’t look away from the fireworks when you speak, not wanting to miss seeing any of the vibrant shades of reds and yellows as they broke through the clouds.

“Anything sweet girl.”

“Why did you take off your helmet? I thought your Creed prevented you from showing your face.” You hope the question isn’t too insensitive or private, and when Din takes longer than you like to respond, you finally turn to him to apologize. But Din cuts you off before you can even say anything, keeping his focus on your wrist to distract him long enough so he could respond.

“I had a son once, well, he wasn’t mine physically but, he was mine. He was a foundling by Creed and I was tasked with bringing him back to his kind. It’s a long story that I could tell you another time but...when I had to give him up, I couldn’t bear the thought of him never seeing me without the helmet. I needed him to see me, to know what I willingly gave up and what I had to do to ensure his safety. I’d taken off my helmet once before and even thought it was my choice, I didn’t want to. But in that moment, before I watched him go, I decided that he was more important than my Creed. He was...he was everything to me. And it took a long time to realize that personal connections and relationships weren’t a weakness, they were a strength. My strength.” You’re not sure when you turned to your side and nuzzled into his embrace. But you couldn’t focus on anything else but him and the way his eyes twinkled in sadness when he mentioned his kid. It was a shocking admission and you never once thought of him in such a role but looking back at the last few days, you didn’t find it impossible. He was kind, quiet, sweet, adn patient.

“I keep my helmet on almost all the time but I only take it off around people I trust. I’m telling you this because- because I trust you. I trust you cyar’ika. I took it off earlier today because I wanted you to see me...and also because I was trying to pick out a gift for you. I figured if I didn’t preface it with anything that it would be less dramatic but- little did I know.” The indirect mention of the not-so-little change you experienced earlier today makes you smile.

“If I knew you needed to look into my eyes for you to see color, I would have taken off the helmet the first time I saw you.” He trails his nose across your cheek before he kisses your eyes and your forehead, smiling down at you when he sees how relaxed you feel in his arms.

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Your response surprises him and he pulls away and looks at you quizzically.

“I- I saw you before my eyes saw you, Din. My heart chose you before my soul did. I...I think I knew when I saw you again…I think a part of me knew that you were it for me and that it didn’t matter if I didn’t see color with you because- because you were...you’re perfect.” You feel a weight lift off of your chest when you finally confess to him what you’ve been feeling for the past few days and you shift impossibly closer to him to let him know that you were telling the truth.

“I’m not perfect mesh’la.” His laugh is self-deprecating and he only stops when he feels your hand slip around his back and hold onto his shirt like your life depended on it.

“You are to me.” It’s perhaps too forward for him and Din doesn’t know how to react or respond to your confession so he nods at you and nuzzles into your neck to avoid any more of your intense emotions.

“You haven’t told me yet what your favorite color is.” He tries to change the topic, not expecting your response to shoot through his chest and into his heart like a blaster.

“Brown obviously.” You answer instantly and without hesitation.

“Why ‘obviously’?”

“Well, it’s-it’s your eye-color Din. What other color could be my favorite?”

His heart ceases to beat at your adamant reply and he pulls away again to look into your eyes to see if you were teasing him. Instead, he finds something swimming in your eyes that would have terrified his soul had he met you years ago.

“Ner kar’ta,” Din moans into your ear as he rests up on his elbow before molding his lips with yours again. You don't know what any of the Mando’a means but you have a pretty good idea of what he’s trying to convey in that moment and you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him closer to you. When he lays back down and pulls you into his side, you can’t help but take one last look at the night sky, finding the stars shimmering behind the multitude of fireworks. You watch the different colors blend with each other, and you almost cry when you see the yellows and greens and blues mixing so beautifully together to create new gradients across the galaxy.

But none of them compared to the color of Din’s eyes. And you go to sleep dreaming of the moment those kind, dark, brown orbs captured your soul and whispered affections into your heart.

Translations

Mesh’la - beautiful Cyar’ika - beloved/darling Ad’ika - little one Usenye - go away Ner kar’ta - my heart

Pedro Pascal (and any of his characters):

@pastel-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @freeshavocadoooo @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @purplepascal042 @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @tati-adventures @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @vibin-hippie @marsplsstop @mouthymandalorian @diogodxlot @janebby @juletheghoul

Din Djarin: @a--1--1--3 @tanzthompson

#din djarin x reader #din djarin/reader #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian/reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #soulmate au

[shreddedparchment]

A Wife For Thor Pt.01

10/12/2020

Arrivals and Departures

Pairing: King!Thor x Reader          Word Count: 6,990

Warnings: language, talks of death, angst, talks of sex,

A/N: This is seriously...I mean, I don’t even know where this came from. Credits to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor​ because Roo gave me the idea and I kinda ran with it. Like omg, y’all. Blame Roo. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work! xoxo Dialogue from Thor Ragnarok has been used in the beginning of this story.

Please do not REPOST my stories anywhere. Reblogs are most welcome!

He stands with his arms crossed in what appears to be a small sitting room with a large window that opens to the sublime sight of the black space beyond. Sterling silver, radiant red, and brilliant blue stars twinkle into infinity.

This is a sight that Thor had seen many times before and yet, for the first time in an age, he felt hopeful for the future.

His fight had ended. With Ragnarok, his journey had reached an end. Not the end, but certainly that of a chapter I which his battles might rest.

He imagines that this might be how his father felt when he had taken charge of the nine realms.

However violent that takeover might have been, his father had lied about many things—his sister for one—it had been the beginning of a quieter reign. A new formative time for his father. He may not have been a perfect man, but he’d grown wiser in many ways. Still not the best father, but his father, nonetheless.

Thor can almost picture his life on Earth, a time of peace. A time to rebuild. He will be able to give his people a good life there and he’s certain that his friends will appreciate having him closer. Friends from work they may be, but friends.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to go back to Earth?” Loki asks, standing beside him with his hands held gently at his front.

Thor looks at him, waiting a moment to allow him to finish speaking.

“Yes, of course.” Thor assures him. “The people of Earth love me. I’m very popular.”

Loki takes a breath, looking out the window as he quickly accepts his brother’s reasoning while simultaneously realizing he must word this differently to get his point across.

“Let me rephrase that.” Loki begins, “Do you really think it’s a good idea to bring me back to Earth?”

Thor knows that Loki has a point. His history with Earth is…not perfect. To say the least.

“Probably not, to be honest.” He admits, noting Loki’s apprehension.

Loki smiles, a little knowing.

“I wouldn’t worry, brother.” Thor tells him, both turning back to the void outside. “I feel like everything’s going to work out fine.”

The moment seems endless, the two of them waiting as if the something should or might happen after Thor’s optimistic sentiments.

Then the moment passes and Loki sighs.

“Right, well, I’ll start rounding up the people who will be of the most use once we arrive.”

Thor gives his brother one parting smile but doesn’t watch him leave.

Thor doesn’t know exactly what has changed in him, what makes him so confident in this decision, but he knows it’s the best decision he could have made. And if he’s honest, though he’d never admit it out loud, the possibility of finally being on the same planet as Jane…well, he’d be a fool not to consider the possibilities.

~~~~~~~~~~

Something feels different today.

As you wake, turning onto your side to stare across the small room at the blinking line on the blank word document on your computer screen, you can’t quite put your finger on what is making you nervous.

Your stomach is rolling, making you queasy, despite the fact that you have no reason to be anxious.

Yesterday was like the day before and today will be just like yesterday. Nothing in your life ever changes, and that’s become so much of who you are that whenever you have even a doctor’s appointment your heart begins to race in dreaded anticipation.

With trembling hands you clutch your blanket, trying to find a reason behind this mood. Your breath quickens as your heart panics, your mind scrambling to make sense of these emotions but nothing comes to mind.

So, you get out of bed. You get dressed choosing a simple knee length black dress that fits loose enough to keep you comfortable throughout the day. Then you head into the kitchen and start the coffee pot.

Halfway through the brew you shut the machine off and rush to dump out its contents into the sink.

“Fuck.”

You sigh, realizing you should really invest in decaf coffee for morning just like this.

“Tea. Tea is better.” You rationalize and pull your kettle off the warmer and fill it in the sink.

You replace it in its dock then turn your back to it, hands gripping the edge of the counter as you lean against it.

Your fingers stroke the smooth and unvarnished wooden countertop, suddenly going rigid around the lip as your heart goes frantic again.

The island counter directly in front of you is made of the same unvarnished wood, a slightly mismatched chair on the other side, tucked in beside the open shelving that holds your pots and pans. Along the center of the island sits a small vase with nearly completely withered flowers.

You’re filled with relief as your hands are given new task and you hurry forward and take the clear glass vase, toss the flowers—which crumble as they hit yesterday’s empty cereal box—dump the water in the sink and quickly refill it.

Setting the vase aside, you pull open a drawer and pluck from an array of contents a small packet of flower food, a pair of small pruners, a long piece of twine, and head out the back door to your modest backyard.

There isn’t much in it, and it’s unfenced. A large tree at the back-left corner provides shade and pecans. In the center of the yard sits a set of antique iron work garden furniture. Twisted and shaped into what reminds you of lace. Two smaller chairs and one long bench with curved backs.

You’ve been of a mind to buy cushions for them, but you haven’t found an excuse to justify the expense.

In between the garden set sits an outdoor coffee table made of wood and painted white. It’s fading and will need a new coat soon but again the expense can wait. At least until you sell another story.

Apart from this set and a small wooden shed beside the pecan tree, your yard is mostly overgrown grass and carefully cultivated flowers lining the length of your narrow back porch.

You smile, noticing the length of your grass, grateful for another something to keep you busy today. Something to keep your mind off this mysterious and anxious premonition of something to come.

Quickly you move to a large blooming bush at the end of your porch and cut from it several bunches of pink and blue garden phlox.

You admire the shade of the blue flowers. The color reminds you a pair of blue eyes you’d once seen on a woman who’d come to your school as a child.

She’d been beautiful and kind, but she hadn’t picked you. Still, you’d never forgotten the color of her eyes.

The pink is pastel at the edges of its petals and vibrant magenta at the center.

As you head back in, the kettle only barely beginning to steam, you quickly arrange the bunches you’ve picked and wrap them up with the twine. You set the bushel aside and with the vase pulled close, you tear the packet of flower food with your teeth and pour it in.

Replacing the flowers, you give the kettle one more look before you race back into your bedroom to pick out a more appropriate outfit for cutting the grass.

You decide on a pair of jeans and a plain yellow t-shirt. Pulling them on, you pause with your shirt hooked around your arms as your eyes find your laptop screen, annoyingly black still.

With a groan you pull your shirt on and from the kitchen you hear the whistle.

Breakfast is simple. A store-bought muffin and a cup of breakfast tea do the trick and while you’re still chewing your last bite you head out to cut your grass.

It doesn’t take you too long and you lament the last bit as you cut it, the machine vibrating violently in your nervous grip.

No matter how much you try to distract yourself, this feeling of something terrible coming will not go away and you’re about to go out of your mind when a shout from your back door pulls your mind from it.

Standing there is an older man with an unconventionally handsome face. His lips are thin, cheekbones prominent, brown eyes sunken, and his nose long and defined. His dark hair slicked and parted, neatly kept to match his crisp navy suit.

“Aren’t you a little overdressed?” You shout at him as the whirr of the machine dies into silence.

The man moves towards you, a smile brightening his face.

“I was just at a meeting.” He explains.

“Do you ever stop working?” You wonder, pushing the lawn mower towards the shed as he follows.

“Only when I’m on vacation.” He tells you, amusement in his voice but subdued and you only hear it because you’ve known him for years.

“You don’t take vacations.” You sputter, almost laughing.

“Precisely.” He agrees.

He waits for you to shut the door and when you turn, he greets you with open arms.

“How have you been?” He asks, holding the hug for longer than you’re used to which only adds to the anxiety you’ve been feeling all morning.

What’s going on?!

“Hey, you okay?” You ask him, ignoring his question in favor of satisfying your curiosity.

He doesn’t answer but holds the hug a moment longer before pulling back to look at you.

“We have to talk.” He tells you, making your heart pound.

“Okay. You want some breakfast?” You offer, and swallow hard as your fear mounts.

“Sure.” He says and follows you inside.

You make him a full breakfast. Eggs, bacon, breakfast sausage, and buttered toast with a cup of coffee. Just because you can’t stand the idea of being hyped up on caffeine today doesn’t mean David won’t.

He digs right in while you stand on the other side of the island, sipping on your second cup of tea in hopes that it will ease your frayed nerves.

For a few minutes he gobbles down your food but when you shift on your feet for the fourth time, he clears his throat, takes a drink of his coffee, then puts his fork down.

“It’s not exactly bad news.” He assures you, easing you a little but something tells you that you still won’t like it.

“Just tell me, David.”

“As your lawyer,” He begins, sitting back in your old wobbly chair. “It’s my duty to inform you when there are developments with your family’s estate.”

“Right.” You agree, remembering the day he’d found you when you’d turned eighteen to tell you that you weren’t exactly as poor as you’d thought.

You’re not really rich either. You have a little money that your parents set aside for you. Old money that you hadn’t really touched. You use it mostly for bills when you can’t sell a story fast enough and most of your wealth is in this cottage. A family home that you’d had no idea was yours until David brought you here.

Finally, a home, after living in that school all those years.

“Well, I think it might be time to reveal a little more of that estate’s history.”

“Why?” You put down the floral porcelain cup and wrap your arms around yourself, afraid of what he’ll say.

How did you know that something was coming? What kind of sixth sense do you have?!

“After all this time, why would it matter?” You sigh, moving to pull out the second chair to his right on the shorter end of the island.

“Don’t panic.” He tells you, reaching over to place his hand over yours. “Let’s keep our heads. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“You say that, but why do I feel like that’s not exactly true?” You sigh.

He blinks, gathering his thoughts before he nods.

“I think I’ll tell you all at once. Like ripping a band-aid. Might be the easiest for you.” He realizes.

You don’t disagree.

“Your family comes from a very small people in Europe. Their origins are hard to trace but we know that they travelled between France, Norway, Denmark, Romania, Belgium, Sweden, Austria, Greece, and even spent a large amount of time in hiding in the United Kingdom.”

“I get it, they were nomads.” You sigh, your mood taking a turn from the anticipation of clarity.

“Yes. Nomads.” David agrees, patting your hand in an attempt to calm you. “I only mention it because there are many questions as to where they had originated from. No one seems to know. Unfortunately, I don’t think that question will ever be answered as all records before their stint in France have been lost.

“What we do know is that your ancestors, your bloodline are royalty.” David says, as easily as if he were telling you your age. “Even though the titles have long since been lost, you are technically—though you have no country to rule over—a princess.”

Slowly his words sink in and your face begins to relax. You look down at his hand over yours and without warning you laugh once. Then again, and again, until you’re leaning on your chair, head thrown back as your whole body shakes with it.

“What is so funny?” David asks, unamused but he goes back to eating.

“This is a joke, right? You’re pulling my leg.” You gasp, breath shallow.

“Not one little bit.” He shakes his head. “If we knew what country your ancestors came from, you would very much be in some palace or castle, reigning over your people. Your parents, were they alive, would have been King and Queen.

“You may not think it possible, but that is your legacy, Y/N. You are of royal blood.” David insists which sobers you a little, but you think it’s so silly that this is what you’d been so scared of.

This is what you’d been dreading?

“Okay. Fine. I believe you. But what does it matter? You said that if I still had a country then I would be princess, but clearly, I don’t. So, I’m not. What’s the point of telling me this when it makes absolutely no difference to my life?

“I don’t feel any different and it’s not like that makes me any richer? I’m still sitting on a decently sized fortune to assure that I don’t want for anything at least until my forties. What could this possibly change that you felt it necessary to tell me?”

David wipes his mouth with his napkin, finishing up the last bit of his coffee before he gets up and with his dirty plates moves towards the sink.

“Leave it, David. I’ll clean up later.” You watch him, sitting up a little straighter as that anxious feeling begins to grow again with his extended silence.

He washes the plate and as he does, your nerves begin to fray again. You anxiously pick at a small splinter in your island, waiting for him to speak.

He turns towards you as he finished washing his plate, then meets your eyes.

“You weren’t just revealing my heritage, were you?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I felt I needed to reveal your heritage because someone has reached out with the hopes of setting up a meeting with you.”

“Why would anyone wanna meet with me simply because they know of my lineage?” You wonder, slouched, hands moved to your lap to rest limply as you stare at David, fear increasing with every moment that passes.

“May I ask you a personal question?” He says, moving to stand closer as he dries his hand on your dishtowel.

“David, you know everything about me.” You sigh.

“Why haven’t you ever had a boyfriend? Or girlfriend? I’m not sure I’ve ever asked if you-?”

“To be honest, I don’t know either.” You shrug. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Not even as a child?” He wonders.

“I was too busy wishing for parents as a kid.” You clarify. “I didn’t have time for crushes or any of that stuff.”

“Are you opposed to a relationship?” David asks, dropping the towel then moving around to sit back down in his seat.

“Opposed?” You ask, shaking your head. “Not exactly opposed. I’ve just never known anyone worth caring about like that. I’m mainly here at home. I do go into town when I need to get my packages but there isn’t anyone there that…I don’t draw attention like that.”

“You’re a pretty girl.” David tells you, reaching over to tug on your sleeve. “When you aren’t sweaty and covered in grass clippings.”

You scoff, shaking your head.

“It’s not something I really worry about.” You admit.

“Would you ever want to get married?” David asks, and your heart is suddenly pounding.

The idea of being someone’s wife had crossed your mind once or twice. Mostly when you’d been jotting down ideas or plotlines for your books. In the end, because you didn’t think you had enough insight, you’d opted to remove all romance. You write mysteries.

“I don’t know that I’d be any good at it.” You confess. “I’m not…I can’t exactly picture myself being someone’s wife.”

“Why not?”

“Because I…I don’t even know what I’d be like in a relationship, sharing space and time, much less sharing an entire life?” You shake your head. “I’m not saying that I haven’t thought about it but it’s only ever been in passing.”

David goes silent, tapping his index finger against the island.

“David, please. You know I can’t take the suspense.” You plead.

“Yes. I’m sorry.” He nods then reminds himself, “Band-aid.”

You take a deep breath and turn to face him a little more in your seat.

“Well, you are aware of our planet’s newest inhabitants?”

“Th-The Asgardians in Norway?”

“Yes.” David nods. “Well, as a sign of good faith, to ensure that they will abide by Earth’s laws and to assuage any ideas from panicked world leaders that they might try and overtake the planet and make it their own, they have decided that marriage to someone from Earth might be the best way to do that.

“The Asgardian known as Brunnhilde has reached out to all families of royal blood and asked to meet with any eligible women, preferably—as she so tactfully put it—maidens.” He explains. “Which I take it you are?”

You swallow hard, your lungs rubbed of oxygen and yet you somehow manage to quietly acknowledge, “Yes. I’m a virgin.”

How can you not be after spending your whole life unconcerned with romance?

“You don’t have to do it, Y/N.” David suddenly says; however, you can see the ‘but’ in his eyes. “But if you don’t and the Asgardian king cannot choose from the women he does meet, you will probably be hunted down and forced to meet with him anyway.

“All world leaders are in agreement that this is the correct and only way to ensure the safety of the planet. They will not give up until every woman meeting the Asgardian’s requirements have been given the chance to meet with Thor.”

“Thor?!” You gasp, rising to your feet as hundreds if not thousands of images flash through your mind of the Thunder God and the Avengers fighting side by side.

“Yes.” David affirms, rising to his feet with you. “With the death of his father, he is now King of Asgard.”

Of course, Thor is going to be King. You already knew this. It’s common sense.

For some reason though, the confirmation made out loud, vocally…how the fuck are you supposed to marry Thor? An Avenger? That’s not…this cannot be real life!

“David,” You begin, apprehensive.

“I know. I know it is a lot to ask but as I said, I don’t believe we have much of a choice. He might very well not pick you.” David adds, rushing to comfort you and point out how unlikely you’d be the one Thor chooses to wed. “There are plenty of other women that he’s already met with. Women that are more suited to life in a palace than you are. The Hungarian princess is so eager to be Queen of Asgard that she’s been sending the other women bribes to try and convince them to refuse.

“It won’t make a difference, since they cannot refuse should Thor choose them.” David admits.

“A-all I have to do is meet with him?” You stutter, heart in your throat.

“Just a quick one-hour meeting. He’ll ask you questions. Get to know a bit about you. See if you are suited for life as Asgardian queen and then it’s over.” David assures you.

“I’m…There are lots of other women better for it, right?”

“Loads of them.” David promises.

New fears begin to take hold in your heart and mind.

It conjures up the last time you’d seen Thor, strutting from a massive spaceship docked over the ocean by New Asgard. He’d risen from its depths all wide shoulders and biceps. Heavy steps thudding as he’d stopped at the end of the massive ramp, waving at the cameras as his people had filed out behind him.

His hair cropped short as opposed to the long tresses he’d had when he’d last been on Earth, one eye missing with a sleek black and gold metal patch over it the absence.

You’ve never been threatened by him before. He’s a hero. But the prospect of being his wife and having wifely duties...

Your mind flies into panic as it shifts that large body over you, crawling towards you with his hands prying your legs open. The years of sexual experience radiating off of this fantasy Thor and all of his bulging muscles.

You almost want to throw up at the prospect of having to consummate a marriage. You haven’t exactly been eager to be with anyone since you haven’t met anyone special, but you’d at least imagined something more intimate. More personal.

“David I-they won’t choose me though, right?” You reach out for him because your legs are suddenly weak.

He takes hold of your arms and helps you stand still.

“They won’t.” He tells you, sounding convinced. “There are better candidates. Women with actual titles.”

He’s right. Of course, he’s right. He has to be right.

“It’s just a quick meeting.” He promises. “Then it’ll all be over, and you can come back to your cottage and live just as you have been, with no one to bother you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Leaving your little place is difficult. After spending years without a home to call your own, now that you have your cottage, tearing yourself away from it is like pulling splinters.

You like your little yard. You like your flowers. You love your bed and its white sheets, little pink and yellow flowers printed on the soft fabric.

You’d made it more feminine. You’d brought flowers back and frills and lace. You’d made it everything you thought a cottage at the edge of a wood should look like and as time had gone by you’d brought in more personal touches.

After several years, your home is finally completely you.

This place, this massive Asgardian structure is less gold and more wood, stone, and iron. Silver steel polished so bright it gleams even in moonlight. This place is not you. It’s him. It’s Thor. His home.

Right now, with the day almost over, the palace takes on a warmer tone. The wooden structures and gray stone pillars are bathed in orange light, giving the place a pleasant glow and despite yourself, you can almost picture Thor meandering through these Nordic halls, a long crimson robe around his thick form.

It isn’t an unpleasant image now that you’ve given yourself some time to get used to the idea of him.

When you arrived you were greeted and seated in a large round room, the lower quarter of the sturdy walls made of ornate stone brick, the rest of the wall beautiful dark oak. The floor is also stone, massive carpets underneath several pieces of obviously Norse inspired furniture.

Well actually, the Norse was probably derived from Asgardian styles. There’s a difference in them that you can see but don’t understand. The coffee table in front of you has ornately carved legs, golden embellishments, and a black coat of paint.

The sofa you’re sitting on is mostly wood, painted gold, with plush and soft satin covered cushions in wine red.

There are two other tables around the room, a collection of books on one and an array of fruits, foods, and drinks on the other. There are several different statues and stands. Lamps that look as if they should have flames instead of the electric bulbs they now hold.

Small touches of modern design filter through the room complimenting the more traditional décor.

“Hello there.” Says a lilting voice.

You recognize it and turn to find Loki, slipping through a narrow opening in the large set of doors you’d been escorted through almost half an hour ago.

He’s dressed in a black suit with a plain white t-shirt underneath dressing the look down.

“H-Hi.” You stammer, surprised by his appearance.

You stand, knowing well that he may not be King but for Asgard, Loki is still a prince.

“No, please. Do not get up on my account.” He gestures at your seat and you settle back in as he crosses to the table with all the books. “I forgot some papers in here, I only came to retrieve them. Do not mind me.”

You avert your eyes, afraid to see something you shouldn’t and sit just as stiffly as before, hands fisting the royal purple dress you’d chosen to wear. It’s simple, quarter sleeves, high neckline with a small V at the center. Just above your knees in length, it rises as you grip it.

“Nervous to meet my brother?” Loki asks, stopping by the doors as he eyes your tight grip.

“This whole situation is a little stressful.” You admit. “I’m…I live in a small house in the middle of nowhere. I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“Ah, you’re the one with the lost lineage.” Loki realizes, moving closer with interest. “A hidden princess. You could have refused to come, you know?”

“I would have been forced eventually.” You point out. “There are a lot of people who want this marriage thing to happen.”

“True.” Loki agrees, “My fault, I’m afraid. I make them nervous.”

“You did very nearly destroy New York.” You point out, remembering the carnage reported that day. The aftermath had taken forever to clean up.

“I did.” Loki agrees. “Do you fear me?”

“No.” You admit. “If you weren’t safe, Thor wouldn’t have brought you back here.”

“He could just be too trusting.”

“Maybe.” You agree. “But with the fate of his entire people tied to the successful acclimation of Asgard and Earth, if you were really a threat, I think he’d have cut you out before coming back.”

Loki’s lips slowly curl up into a smile before breaking apart into a toothy grin.

“What is your name again?” He asks, a sparkle of something in his eyes.

“Y/N.” You tell him. “Why?”

“No reason. This has been very illuminating, Y/N. It was lovely to meet you.” Loki says then with a quick bow of his head, he leaves you to your solitude.

Confused, you sit there completely at a loss for what just happened.

Had you taken too many liberties with Loki? What had that smile meant? You’d been made aware that Loki was also involved in recruiting women of royal blood into marriage meetings for Thor, but you hadn’t expected him to know you by the description of where you live.

Maybe because it’s so unlike anyone else’s?

You sit there stewing for another twenty minutes, wondering if maybe you’re being stood up when the large doors open once again.

You shoot up onto your feet, so damn nervous your body reacts without your permission. Through the door this time comes the man of the hour. The massive Thunder God dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a plain gray t-shirt crosses over to the table with food and pours himself a stein of what looks like beer from a sloshing brown pitcher.

“Estrid, is this from the new batch of ale?” He booms loud enough that he can be heard even outside of the room as he takes a quick sniff of the liquid.

His voice is so deep.

Licking your lips, you watch him drink the entire stein without taking a breath or waiting for an answer, and then refill it before grabbing it and taking an apple with his other hand.

He turns, holding the fruit up to his mouth and freezes with it pressed to his lips as he meets your eyes, realizing he isn’t alone.

You’re not exactly sure what to say or what to do, completely taken aback by this strange and sudden exposure to candid Thor. Both of you unprepared to see each other despite the fact that you’ve literally been waiting nearly an hour for him.

His confusion mounts as he lowers the apple, looking around as if expecting an explanation or to see if he’s in the correct room.

“What time is it?” He suddenly asks, meeting your gaze again.

“N-Nearly six.” You tell him, and his one good eye goes slightly wide.

“Oh!” His lips curl up into an easy smile. “I did not think it was that late.”

His smile makes you feel a little more at ease, but you’re still on edge.

“You’re my meeting.” He tells you, as if you don’t already know that. “Y/N? Y/L/N, right?”

“Yes.” You nod, then before you can stop yourself… “You’re late.”

Thor blinks. Startled it seems or maybe just surprised, but then he smiles again. “Oh. I’m sorry.”

“I mean, you can be as late as you’d like. This is your meeting. Sorry. I didn’t…I don’t know why I said that.” You rush to say.

“No, no.” Thor turns to put down his stein of beer and the apple replaced in its bowl. “You’re right. I am late. We were supposed to meet at five, weren’t we?”

When he turns back to you, you nod.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure you have much you could be doing.” Thor says, moving towards you and gesturing at the spot you’d been in before sitting down at the other end of the sofa.

“No.” You confess. “Not really. I’m actually one of the only people that probably doesn’t have much to do. Well, I mean, I could be writing. Or cleaning house.”

“They tell me that you had no knowledge about your lineage before Brunnhilde reached out to your lawyer?”

You nod. “It’s not really important. Or…no. That’s not the right-what I mean to say is that it isn’t significant to my life.”

“Don’t you want to know who your family is?” Thor wonders.

“I know who my family is. I had a mom. And a dad. Both died just after I was born. That’s my family.” You explain. “Apart from getting to meet you, the news that my family was once royalty doesn’t change it in any way. I’m still just as insignificant today as I was before.”

Thor narrows his brow, watching you for a long torturous moment as he considers what you’d just said.

“Tell me about yourself.” He suddenly says, turning to lean back against the arm, his own thrown over the back, right leg bent up onto the sofa.

“There isn’t much to tell.” You admit. “I was born, my parents died in an accident. I was taken to a school for orphans where I grew up and aged out. On the day I had to leave, Mr. Valis found me and gave me my inheritance which is a good amount of money and a small house. I’ve been living there ever since.”

“You didn’t take any additional schooling?” Thor asks, relaxing. “All the other young women I’ve met have made it a point to tell me about the universities and colleges they’ve attended.”

“I took a few correspondence classes.” You tell him, “But I’ve only ever wanted to write, and I didn’t feel that I needed a higher education to do it. I mean, it would probably look better on my resume, but my writing should speak for itself.”

You can’t really tell what he’s thinking with the way he’s watching you, his hand playing with a thread on the back of the sofa.

You take it as a good sign that many of the other women have a degree of some sort. They must want someone respectable with a good education, right?

“How do you feel about political marriages?” He asks, and you’re stunned for a moment.

“Um…”

“Be honest, please.”

“I guess I don’t like the idea?” You admit. “Being forced to marry someone you don’t love because duty demands it? Feels archaic. If you love someone, whether they fit into whatever political standards are being demanded or not should not be a reason to get married.”

Thor sits up, shifting a little closer as he leans towards you.

“If you were asked to go along with a political marriage in every way but the heart, could you?” He wonders, much more interested than before.

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused.

“Well, let’s say for example, you and I were to marry. We’d be expected to have children. You’d be bound to do your duties as Queen of Asgard, but you would not be required to love me. Would you be able to fulfill these requirements?”

“You don’t want to do this, do you?” You realize, seeing the eagerness in his eyes. His shoulders slump. “If you don’t want to get married, why don’t you just say something?”

“I must do what I can to ensure the future of my people.” Thor says, sighing deeply.

“I’m guessing there’s someone else you do love that you can’t marry?”

“Not that I can’t but won’t. She isn’t ready for marriage and I don’t feel right making that kind of demand from her when she clearly has other things she’d like to be doing with her life. And…yes, maybe a little bit can’t. A royal marriage would make the most sense. I need a Queen.” Thor says.

You can’t find the words to tell him how fucked up this all is so instead you sit in silence.

“I know this is not ideal. I’ve tried to find other ways of assuring Earth of my commitment to this planet but nothing I’ve suggested is good enough.”

He needs a Queen. This gives you solace. No one is less of a queen than you are.

“I’m sorry.” You finally tell him. “It’s not fair. But I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone who checks all those boxes for you. I hear the Hungarian princess is pretty eager.”

Thor ignores you, stroking his beard as he watches you. “What do you want from a marriage? Let us say it’s many years from now and you have found someone you love beyond all reason. You two decide to get married. What does that look like?”

You’re a little surprised by the question but you humor him and take a moment to really think about it.

The man you picture has no face. There is no one you care enough about to imagine. So…because he’s the only option, you take Thor’s face and give your imaginary husband a face.

“We’d be partners.” You tell him. “Open about everything important. We would respect each other’s individualities. If something is troubling me, I would like to know that I could turn to him and if he had something on his mind, I’d hope that he could turn to me too.

“We’d be honest about even the unpleasant aspects of our life together. If we disagreed, we would talk about it openly. We wouldn’t hide from each other. We’d spend as much time as we could together and always make time for each other.”

You picture Thor sitting at your island in your comfy cottage. He’s so massive that he’d take up so much space. You’d have to squeeze past him, and he’d turn to wrap his arms around your waist as you pass.

He’d trap you there, not letting you move.

“We’d make breakfast together. Cramped up in my little kitchen, it would turn into play.” You smile. “We’d lounge around the house, reading and listening to music. In the evenings we’d move out to the backyard and watch the sun set then watch the stars until I’d fall asleep on his shoulder.”

As if you’re caught doing something you shouldn’t be, you startle yourself out of your daydream and feel your neck heat up.

You’d crossed from rational marriage into sentimental and you’re a little shocked at the detail in which your mind has gone.

You’re also a little startled by the pleasant feeling that picturing Thor in those situations has given you.

For someone who has never had a crush, you’re startled by the butterflies it gives you.

“But I’ve never been into anyone like that before.” You tell him, looking away from his intense gaze. “So, even if that’s what I picture, it’s not like it’s ever gonna happen.”

“It might.” Thor says, sounding as if he might be trying to comfort you.

“It won’t.” You assure him. “I hope your girl changes her mind.”

There’s a bitter ache in your chest as you say it, and you’re certain it’s only there because of the little fantasy you just allowed yourself to have. You should have picture someone else.

“I hope they relax on the royal blood thing and let you marry someone you love instead.” You hope.

“You say that as if you already know that I won’t pick you.” Thor observes.

You smile wide, laughing even as you bite your lip. “Well, I’m nothing like the girls you’ve met with. I don’t have endless amounts of money. I don’t have a prestigious education or extensive family. I don’t know anything about being royalty. The others have been doing it their entire lives. I’m the least likely candidate. I don’t fit the requirements, except for the bloodline thing.

“I only agreed to meet with you because I knew that the likelihood of you picking me was almost non-existent.”

“Ouch.” Thor says.

“No!” You rush to say. “You’re very…I mean, you’re kind from what I can tell and honorable. You’ve saved Earth a couple times and you’re a little self-centered but only in a superficial way that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a good man.

“I honestly don’t know why your girl won’t marry you but I’m not right for this.” You nod. “I wouldn’t make a good Queen for you.”

Thor nods slowly, thinking for a minute before he straightens up and turns to rise, slapping his hands on his knees before he moves back towards the table of fruit and beer.

“You’re probably right.” He agrees, and for some reason, you’re disappointed.

Not so much that he isn’t picking you, but rather that he sees you aren’t enough. You’re lacking in some way. Which you already knew but…knowing he thinks that makes you feel a little lousy despite that being something you wanted.

“I suppose I’ll just have to pick someone more suitable. Someone who knows better about ruling a people. All the same, thank you for coming.” Thor says, dismissing you.

He picks up his stein again and turns to look at you as you rise.

“It was a pleasure to meet you.”

You nod, “Likewise.”

After a moment of hesitation, you give him a wave and move for the doors, trembling hands reaching out to yank the doors open and make your escape.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been weeks since you met with Thor and you’ve completely forgotten the whole thing. Life has gone back to normal and even though you now know that you’re from royal stock, nothing, as you expected, has changed.

The only plus that has risen from this whole situation is that you can now picture marriage a little better, however inexperienced and cliché it might be, you can make something up now.

Your little fling with the idea of Thor had given you fuel to slip a little romance into your writing and your fingers are flying across the keyboard of your laptop as you type up a new and promising mystery about a set of lovers and the body they discover in the attic of their new home.

You hate to be interrupted during a writing session, but you must have forgotten that about yourself because your phone starts to ring.

Normally you mute it before you even sit down to write.

With a growl you reach over and take a quick look at the number.

David flashes on your screen and quickly you swipe to answer.

“Hey, can I call you back in like an hour? I’m in the middle of a chapter and I’m on a roll.” You plead, fingers still flying across the keys.

“Y/N, Thor chose you.” David’s voice says and your fingers freeze.

There’s a pounding in your chest and your head is full of white fuzz. Your legs are numb, and your stomach is swirling with both flutters and nausea.

You can’t have heard that right.

“What?” You ask, voice shaky.

“Thor. He chose you. I just got off the phone with Brunnhilde and she wanted to let me know so that I could call you and let you know that she’ll be by tomorrow to pick you up.”

This can’t be happening.

“She said to pack only what you absolutely need. Everything else will be provided for you.”

“David…I…I can refuse, right? I don’t have to marry him.” You plead desperately.

“Y/N…” David sighs. “You agreed to this before you went to see him. I’m afraid the time to back out has come and gone.”

“But I can just not do it.” You argue. “They can’t force me to do it.”

“The government will seize your assets if you refuse.” David explains. “They want this done. I’m sorry, Y/N. There’s no backing out of this now.”

“But…But he loves someone else.” You tell him and even though your mind knows that this should be the last thing to concern you, it should not be the first reason you can think of why marrying Thor is a bad idea, it is.

As your eyes focus on the little blinking line of your word doc, your heart gives a painful ache knowing that your husband will be loving someone else.

#thor x reader #king!thor x reader #royal au #arranged marriage au #thor odinson x reader #thor x reader fanfiction #thor x reader fanfic #thor x reader fic #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #king!thor x reader fanfiction #a wife for thor #a wife for thor pt01

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Neighbors

Summary: After breaking up with your fiancé you find yourself moving back in with your brother and his daughter just outside of the city. Marcus Moreno is his neighbor and he really does take his neighborly duties to heart. Including taking care of mowing the lawn when your brother had to leave for work for a while. 

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x F!Reader

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: yearning, sexual tension, k-i-s-s-i-n-g, way too many mentions sweat and a lawnmower

A/N: This one goes out to @mouthymandalorian​. I still have no idea how this happened but I am not complaining 😂

Masterlist

Taglist in reblog (you can add or remove yourself by clicking on the link or just ask me and I’ll add you)

The first time you met Marcus Moreno was on the day you moved into your brother's place.

It was autumn when you found yourself in front of your brother’s house. Your fiance and you had decided to end things, which left you temporarily moving into your brother’s place. At least back then you thought it would be temporary. He had bought a house outside the city a couple of years ago and was living with his daughter. He had been divorced a couple of years ago and immediately said yes when you asked him for help.

It was a beautiful and quiet neighborhood.

“And you won’t be safer anywhere but here. The leader of the heroics lives just across the street.” And as if he could hear your brother say those words he was walking over to the moving truck, offering his help. Marcus Moreno. Of course you knew who he was. The whole country probably knew. He had introduced himself, taking one of the boxes you were carrying from you, and followed your brother inside the house. He stayed for dinner that evening, your niece Tara and his daughter Missy having to work on a school project. You learned a couple of things about him that evening. Marcus and your brother were buddies and the only single men in the whole neighborhood.

“Dad is completely oblivious to all the women ogling him every time.” Missy rolled her eyes, making you chuckle and Marcus frowned.

“Nobody’s ogling me, Missy.” She just shook her head and you smiled at her as she left the room to pack her things.

“They are totally checking you out, Marcus.” Your brother teased. “Just like my sister here.” Marcus turned his head to look at you and you turned away to slap your brothers arm.

“Very funny, asshole,” you shook your head with a laugh, almost fleeing out of the kitchen.

The first weeks flew by and sooner than you thought Thanksgiving approached. You were planning on having the best Thanksgiving dinner ever, going a little bit over the top with the groceries.

“You need some help with that?” A voice behind you startled you, making you almost drop the bag full of food. Before it hit the ground someone caught it and you felt yourself blush as you looked into the warm eyes of Marcus Moreno.

“Sorry,” he smiled a little. “Didn’t want to startle you.”

You noticed him more often from that day on. Missy, his daughter, and your niece Tara were close friends.

Marcus was always nice. Always. He offered help where he could. You noticed yourself staring at him more and more and he always smiled back when he noticed you. Nothing could however prepare you for when spring came around.

You were up early going for a run. Your way of dealing with break-ups was eating your feelings and you really needed to get back in shape. With your headphones on you only noticed the unmistakable noise of the lawnmower when you were close to home. Changing to the other side of the street you caught a glimpse of Marcus outside of his house, mowing the lawn. It was still pretty early and a little chilly, yet there he was, dressed in some old jeans and a dark grey shirt, headphones in his ears, oblivious to the outside world. You slowed down, pulling out your headphones as you tried to get a better glimpse, knowing for sure that the way his arms flexed would be a picture you would be thinking about for a while. You were so focused on Marcus you almost ran into a tree, cursing to yourself. When you turned you caught his eyes and he winked, waving at you in greeting. You smiled awkwardly, waving back before you crossed the street to get back into your house, cursing to yourself until you were in the bathroom where you definitely weren’t thinking of how strong his arms would feel around your body.

The more time passed, the more you were sure Marcus Moreno was everything but oblivious to the way people looked at him. Or at least to the way you looked at him. He never made a move, but he made sure to greet you whenever he saw you, offering his help when you had something to carry. And you caught him staring at you across the dinner table more than once when he was over for dinner which seemed to happen more often now that you were cooking. He told you that he was a terrible cook and that your brother wasn’t much better and that this had been the first time since his wife died, that he and Missy were having home-cooked meals regularly.

You remembered the warm feeling that spread in your chest as he opened up to you. That had been the first time you hugged him. And he didn’t let go until you both heard someone breaking something in the living room.

In summer your brother had to leave for this job for a couple of weeks, leaving you and Tara alone. You didn’t mind. You loved her like your own child. And she was growing up so fast.

“Mr. Moreno is coming over tomorrow to take care of the garden,” Tara informed you at dinner on a Friday night.

“Oh?” You asked.

“He said you shouldn’t have to do it on your own just because Dad is gone.” She shrugged, focusing back on the TV.

“That’s nice of him.” You nodded, eating your dinner.

The aspect of Marcus Moreno spending the whole Saturday in the same place as you made it hard for you to sleep. Which was stupid cause the man was living across the street and you saw him almost every day. You were terrified of saying something dumb in front of him, mostly because you were crushing on him, hard. But he had to know that at this point.

More than once you heard Missy complain about the moms at her school when Marcus picked her up.

“The way they look at him? Ugh gross. I’m happy your Aunt is not a lovesick puppy like those moms at school.” She said one day and you chuckled.

“Because I’m a cool aunt.”

“For the most part.” Tara teased and you looked shocked at her before all three of you burst into giggles.

It was supposed to be a hot summer day. You dropped Missy and Tara off at the local outdoor pool before you made your way back home. You stopped on the way to get some groceries, intending to make some fresh lemonade today. You completely forgot about the time, cursing to yourself when you saw Marcus walking over the street as soon as you parked the car.

“Shit. Sorry. I completely forgot the time,” you said as you jumped out of the car.

“No worries. It’s not like I have a long way over here,” Marcus winked. You smiled a little, turning away from him to control your face as you made your way towards the front door.

“You sure you wanna do the lawn today? It’s supposed to be the hottest day of the week.” You asked, putting the bag full of fruits down on the kitchen counter.

“I’m sure. Nothing I can’t handle,” he smiled. You looked at each other, uncertain how to continue and you could swear you saw his eyes wander to your lips before he nodded.

“Okay. I’m gonna start before the sun is gonna melt me.” He took his glasses off to change them to the sunglasses he had brought before he turned around and walked out and into the garage. You definitely weren’t checking out his ass in his jeans until he was out the door.

Ignoring him outside at first you got into making the lemonade and some ice tea. You smiled as you saw the picture Tara and Missy send you, asking if it would be okay if they went for a sleepover at one of their friends' places. The perfect opportunity to go outside and ask Marcus. Maybe it was time to turn up the flirting.

Changing out of your Jeans shorts and Shirt you put on a light summer dress. It wasn’t short, going just over your knees but the neckline and backline were probably a little more revealing than you should be wearing outside of your home. But the front yard still technically was your home. After you changed you stopped at your window and felt yourself growing even hotter. Marcus was just below your window, his white shirt drenched with sweat, clinging to his chest, his hair wet and curling in his neck. You saw his strong tanned arms glistening with sweat as he pushed the mower and you felt your knees getting weak.

“Fuck me…” You whispered to yourself before you made your way downstairs. With a mission.

He didn’t notice you coming out of the house. Carrying two big glasses, one with lemonade, one with ice tea you made your way over to him, smiling to yourself as you caught him humming along to the song he was listening to. You tried to notice the song and were pretty sure it was “Take on me” by A-ha. He looked up when you were close, giving you a small smile as he turned off the mower and pulled out his headphones.

“Hey.” He said.

“Hey. I thought you might need something to drink?” you raised your eyebrows in question. He nodded, pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe off the sweat from his forehead, giving you a glimpse of his stomach. You swallowed but didn’t look away.

“Lemonade or Ice Tea?” you asked instead, looking into his face as he straightened down his shirt.

“Ice Tea,” he answered and you handed him the glass. His fingers brushed over yours and your smile got a little wider.

“You do know that mowing the lawn in the heat of the sun will kill the lawn at some point?” You asked. He gulped down his Ice Tea, watching you intently. You didn’t hide the way you were ogling him, feeling the sweat slowly drip down between your breasts the longer you stood here in the sun. It really was a hot day.

“I’m almost finished and this isn’t my yard” He handed you the glass back with a smirk and you shook your head. “Thank you.” He smiled, you nodded and turned around to leave.

“Oh before I forget,” you turned around again, catching him staring at your back, his eyes finding yours only slowly. “Tara texted to ask if it would be okay if Missy and her slept at Nicole’s place? Her mom said it was okay, but I’m gonna check in with her.”

“Sounds okay for me. I’m gonna check in with her Mom too when I’m finished here.” He said hoarsely and you nodded.

“You wanna maybe stay for dinner? As a thank you for your hard work,” you added. He smirked. “I won’t say not to that.” He winked before he slowly pulled his shirt off. You were sure your eyes popped out of your head before you turned around and walked into the house, hearing him chuckle behind you.

You were on the phone with Nicole’s mom, leaning on the kitchen island, your head propped up on your hand when you heard the door close behind you. You looked over your shoulder, seeing Marcus enter and smile at you before you turned away again.

“I’m okay with it. Marcus just got in. If he’s okay, it would be great if you pick up their overnight bags when you pick them up from the outdoor pool.” You said.

“Great. Nicole has been dying to camp in the garden for one night, but she’s scared alone. Having Tara and Missy with her would be great.” You listened to her, but almost jumped when you felt Marcus’ hand on your lower back. His hand was warm and you closed your eyes as he leaned closer. You turned on the spot, the phone still in your hand, and looked up at him. He wasn’t wearing his glasses and was still shirtless. You were faintly aware of Nicole’s mom talking on the phone, but didn’t hear a word she was saying.

Marcus leaned with one hand on the kitchen island, his other hand coming up to take the phone out of your hand. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he talked to Nicole’s mom and you felt yourself shiver. He wasn’t touching you, yet it felt like your body was on fire with the way he was looking at you. He ended the call, putting the phone down.

“Nicole’s mom will be picking up the girls in two hours. We gotta pack some stuff for the girls until then.” He whispered, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek.

“Why do I think that you are everything but oblivious to the way women look at you?” You asked him. He smiled a little. He was dirty and sweaty and you couldn’t care less with the way he was looking at you.

“I don’t care how women look at me. I do notice how you look at me though.” His thumb brushed over your cheek, slowly running down to your lip.

“And how do I look at you?” You asked.

“Like you wouldn’t say no if I kiss you right now.”

“Even as sweaty and gross as you are right now?” You teased. He chuckled.

“I can go and take a shower first…” You didn’t give him time to finish as you got on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. Surprised he dropped his hand from your face, parting from you for a second before he pulled you close to properly kiss you. It felt better than you would have ever imagined it and you sighed against his lips, your hands wanting nothing more than to run through his soft hair when you giggled, find it damp with sweat.

“Okay, this is kinda gross.” You still giggled and Marcus laughed. “But also kinda sexy,” you teased, looking at him. He smiled a little shy at you.

“I’m gonna take a shower and pack some stuff for Missy and then…”

“‘Then I’m coming over to cook dinner at your place,” you finished his sentence.

“My place?” he asked.

“I really don’t want to have sex in my brother’s house,” you grinned and he laughed.

“You sure?”

You nodded.

“Good. Cause I really don’t want to have sex at your brother’s house either,” he leaned down kissing you again.

#my writing #marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno x you #Pedro pascal #fanfic #fanfiction

[stephspurs]

A Family Affair | Euro 2020 Football Fanfiction

My loves, this is the end of AFA & I can't tell you how sad I am for this little story to be over :( There are a couple of people I need to thank so bear with me...Amy (@footballffbarbiex) for making me believe I could write this and that people will want to read it, thank you forever. Em (@emwritesfootball) for being my fabulous proof reader and always being there for me to bounce ideas off of, thank you. And to allllllllllll of you who read, like, reblog and message me - THANK YOU I LOVE YOU!!! Ok enough with my Oscar's speech, please enjoy la parte finale. Love always, Steph xx

Part 12 | la parte finale

warnings; none - except maybe tears because this is the final part :( word count; 2367 writing tools; third person until dashed line, first person thereafter. tags (as requested by users); @footballffbarbiex @obsesseds-world @abysshaven link to fic masterlist here

The end of the international break had approached both squads with rapid speed, before they knew it the 3 weeks was up and it was time for their final friendly match before returning to club duties. It was a rematch of the European final from just a few months earlier, only this time - it was being played in Rome. Preparing her team to meet their opponents had been a bit trickier than last time. Of course, the boys were fired up and raring to go, but the bitterness and anger that drove her to push them harder last time wasn’t there. They were now going up against some of her closest friends as well as her family.

In a strange moment of deja vu, Amelia looked down the tunnel as both teams lined up side by side to walk out onto the pitch together. Just like the last time, her father passed her and gave her a reassuring rub to the back of her neck and made his way down through the centre aisle with his staff. Following him, and just like last time, she made her way down whilst pressing a kiss to both cheeks of her Italian men. Reaching her brother, she pressed a kiss to his cheek also, however unlike the last time he gave her a wink back. The atmosphere was different this time, it was a friendly game and there was no title at stake here - only pride. This time, however, as she passed the Three Lions Number 21, her right hand found his left one for just a moment, before giving it a gentle squeeze and continuing down her own line. He had maintained his focus forward, didn’t even blink at the girl’s actions, and by the time she got to Fede who had been watching the encounter she had made her mind up that he wanted nothing to do with her.

This friendly-match had Amelia in a bundle of nerves, dissimilar to the euro final, Amelia was confident in her ability purely due to the fact that she was well prepared. This time however, whilst she was just as well-prepared as last time, she also knew that a fair few English players had adopted her playing style as their own and knew the kind of tactic required to stop the Italian attack and penetrate the great wall of Rome: Chiellini and Bonucci. This, coupled with the fact that both sides seemed to be playing with a touch more aggression than she expected, led to her being on the edge of her seat for most of the game. A late first half goal from Jorginho had her up out of her seat, cheering for the midfield maestro. However, it was a late second half goal that had her smiling from ear to ear, whilst trying to remember to keep her bum in her chair - she wasn’t supposed to be cheering for the enemy after all. How could she not though? Ben Chilwell had scored the equaliser. Using the play they had spent so many hours perfecting, just the two of them out on the pitch at Cobham. Scoring his goal, celebrating with his team and the away fans, she had clapped with an appropriate level of enthusiasm until she noticed him look her way, pull the centre of his jersey toward his face and give it a kiss. She moved her hand to touch that spot on her own jersey. Fingers running over the embroidery that she had stitched into every one of her official matchday tops, a memento to keep her family close to her heart - the embroidery featured the word ‘WHITE’ followed by the colours of the italian flag. For this match however, she had something extra added. Did Ben know about her newest addition?

After the match.

“Chilwell! Wait Up!” Federico Bernardeschi called down the tunnel whilst jogging to catch up with his opposition player.

“Can I give you some advice? Don’t let her go. I did, and whilst it was the right thing for me to do, it's something I regret deeply. You don’t realise just how much she adds to your life until she's gone. You’ll come to realise that she is the sunshine after any storm, but she is also the storm itself. Any day without her is a little less bright.”

In a moment of vulnerability, Ben decided to open up to the man that he didn’t know more than a bar of soap, who was coincidentally the same man who knew all there was to know about Amelia.

“She really is sunshine personified, isn’t she?” Ben smiled at the thought of the girl, thinking back on all of the laughs that they shared together in Mykonos.

“Normally yes, but these past few weeks that she has been without you she has been a little less bright. You complete her, whether she has realised yet I’m not sure but I am sure that she misses you. I think more than she ever missed me.”

“Ben, there are two kinds of compliments you can give a woman. The first, something she already thinks about herself but needs reconfirmed. The second, the things she doesn’t think anyone else notices about her. The second kind matters more.”

“You like because, and you love despite. Think about that Ben.”

“I don’t know if I love her, yet.”

“I think you do know. Otherwise you wouldn’t have asked the kitman for a little something extra on tonight's jersey.”

“What are you talking about? How do you know?”

“Ah, Benjamin, a good spy never tells his secrets” With that, Federico continued his walk back to the changerooms. “She’s out on the pitch, Ben.” He called without looking back, confident that the player was already making his way out there.

Walking up to the centre circle, where Amelia was currently sitting down on the pitch with her arms behind her and her legs stretched out in front. Taking in the atmosphere of Stadio Olympico in Rome, her favourite stadium in the world. What surprised her the most was just how quickly Stamford Bridge had crept itself up the ranks and into the second spot of her heart.

Without wanting to startle her, Ben started talking to her from a few meters away - not bothered about the few lingering souls out and about. This was his time to make her his, and nothing was going to get in his way.

“You know, a wise person once said to me that you like someone because, but you love them despite” He called out to her.

Turning around, she was surprised to see him. After the cold shoulder she received earlier she hadn’t imagined she would have the opportunity to talk to the blue-eyed beauty any time soon.

“What person was that?” She asked back, softly, not wanting to spook him off.

“Fede”

She tried to hide the shock on her face, what on earth had told her ex-lover she wanted him to talk to her current lover...if you could even call Ben that. Maybe it was more appropriate for him to be referred to as Amelia’s almost-until-she-fucked-it-lover. That was a bit long winded...maybe-lover should suffice. Whilst she was having this internal struggle, all thoughts swirling around her head, Ben had reached the centre circle and sat to the left of the girl, close enough that she could see the calmness behind his eyes.

“He’s right you know, he’s not always right but this time he definitely is. For example, he was wrong to let you go. There would be no chance in hell that I would let you slip away from me as easily as he did.

“I like you because you’re smart, so unbelievably beautiful and just as confident as anyone I've ever met. But I love you, despite the fact that you drive me mad with just how brilliant you are even if you don’t acknowledge yourself. You are destined for greatness, Amelia White. And I just hope that when you do get to where you want to be, that I'm still right there with you.”

Looking at him with tears in her eyes whilst his own were telling her that there wasn’t an ounce of hesitation behind his words. He loved her. And that's all she needed. Standing up, she pulled him up by his hands and pulled him in so close that she could feel the muscles in his back contract as he wrapped her up in a hug of his own, these were the hugs that she wished could be reserved for her. No one else needed to know the power behind these hugs, they could make her fall for him over and over again. One hand across her shoulders, the other palming the back of her head and pushing her into his chest so she could feel his heart beat - after all it beats just for her.

“Ben, why did you kiss your shirt today after you scored?” She asked the taller man as he continued to enjoy the feeling of having her back in his arms, where she belonged for all of this time.

“I wanted to feel close to you, and I thought maybe you were onto something with your superstitions”. Regrettably pulling himself away from her, he pulled off his shirt to reveal the toned skin of his chest, but also the small embroidery on the inside fabric that resembled her own...except this time it read MILS with a small Italian flag. Feeling her heart swell inside her chest, she beamed up at the man who was patiently waiting for her reaction to the gesture of love.

“I think it worked Ben” Pulling her shirt away from her chest enough that she could stretch it and show the inside fabric to him, hers reading WHITE with the Italian flag, but also a small BENJ with the British flag next to it. Her way of keeping him, and her family, close to her heart where she felt them the most.

He could only imagine that Amelia felt when reading his shirt was only a fraction of what he was feeling at that moment, for it was impossible for anyone to love someone the way that he loved her. His mum always told him not to fall for the girl who gives him butterflies, because he would be addicted to the feeling and would constantly be on the chase for it, but to fall for the girl who calmed him down, made him feel secure and like he needed her air to breathe. Butterflies were warning signs, but the sight of Amelia reminded him of seeing the light on in the hall after an away match - he was home. She was his home.

Pulling her back to his chest, except this time he was shirtless. Amelia ran her hands down his back whilst his hands settled at the base of her spine, she rested her chin on his chest and stared up at the man that her heart had grown to love. Ben moved his hands upwards until he tangled them in her wavy hair, moving his lips to cover her own. The kiss said everything they needed to share with each other. I miss you. I love you. Never leave me again.

“Oi! You two! Break it up! There are kids here!” A quick yell broke the two out of their bliss, looking over to see none other than Kyle Walker standing at the end of the tunnel, looking towards them with a mischievous look on his face.

“Kyle, cover your eyes, you’re too pure to be exposed to such adult behaviour!” And just as though God had been listening, from behind him walked out Federico, to cover the eyes of Kyle Walker. Amelia and Ben didn’t realise that the two were even remotely friendly, however they had found a mutual interest - annoying their two friends that had finally admitted their feelings to each other.

“Pipe down you two” Ben joked as the pair of them walked hand in hand towards the jokesters, Ben eventually lifting his left hand to move their entwined hands to Amelia’s left shoulder, her own right arm moving to wrap around his waist. A way he could bring her physically closer to him. Amelia not resisting the gesture, anything to feel his smooth skin against her own.

“Fede, I hope you know that I'm going to be Amelia’s maid of honor at the wedding. That's not going to be a problem for you is it?” Kyle began to seriously discuss the future event with his new Italian partner in crime.

“No Kyle, that's fine - I'm the flower boy though. Jorgi is going to pull me down the aisle in a red cart while I throw rose petals at everyone” Fede joked back, the two of them pretending that the new couple couldn’t hear them as they walked down the tunnel back to the changerooms.

“What are they like?” Ben laughed into the top of Amelia’s hair, still maintaining his grip on the girl he had been without for 3 weeks. With a grin from ear to ear, and an overwhelming feeling of love about her, Amelia stopped Ben in his tracks before the two had to go their separate ways to rejoin their respective teams.

“Just so you’re aware, I love you too. And I am so sorry for everything that I put us through these past weeks. I want you to know that i’m all in, and i’m all yours...if you’ll have me”

“Stop being a silly muppet, of course I'll have you, all of you. Even the parts that drive me insane. There is no way I am letting anyone else have you. You’re all mine, Mils”

“Glad to know the feelings mutual, Chilly”

“Oi, what did I say about that! Only friends call me Chilly...and you are not my friend”

Bursting into laughter as she tried to pull away from him, only to be pulled back and wrapped up into his arms, her head against his chest.

“I love you, Benj”

“I love you right back, Mils”

finito.

BONUS #BAMELIA MOMENT - Champions Again | di nuovo campioni

#football imagine #football fic #jadon sancho #ben chilwell #mason mount #declan rice #ben white #jack grealish #tyrone mings #kyle walker #ben chilwell imagine #jack grealish imagine #mason mount imagine #football one shot #tyrone mings imagine #x reader #a family affair fic #steph writes #stephspurs #italian national team #jorginho #federico bernardeshci #jorginho imagine #bernardeschi imagine #juventus fic #juventus imagine #italy nt imagine #england nt imagine #three lions imagine #azzurri imagine

[circus4apsycho8]

lemon drops. | ii | ib ~ garry x reader

chapter i here.

~ two ~

Rest assured your name will be spelled correctly in my contacts :)

It’s you! I’m glad to hear it.

Idk if you’ll be free but I was going to stop by the coffee shop again today

After my classes. Thinking about talking a walk or something after

I can certainly make another stop there

A walk? Any particular trail in mind?

Not really. I’ll probably just stroll through town

I like the sound of that. What time are you done with your classes?

A smile appears on your lips as you sort the details of your next meetup with Garry out. That turned out pretty well, despite the fact you had been a little nervous to text him. In any case, you hop off of your bed, noting that it’s time for you to get ready for class.

With that thought in mind, you mindlessly proceed throughout your morning routine. After your belongings are in hand, you open the door to your room before stepping out into the hallway. As you gently pull it shut, the sound of small footsteps catches your attention.

“Morning!” your little sister greets, grinning widely as you bend down to give her a hug.

“Hey, Ib. Did you sleep well?”

“I did! Did you?”

“I slept well enough,” you reply, listening to her as the two of you start making your way downstairs.

“That’s good. I had a really weird dream.”

“Oh? Do you remember what it was about?”

“Kind of,” she answers as the two of you reach the bottom of the staircase, both turning towards the kitchen. “I just remember a scary-looking face. It was blue and had weird eyes and a creepy smile.”

“That sound scary,” you mumble, ruffling her hair a little bit. “I’m sorry you had to dream about that.”

“Thanks, but it wasn’t that bad. I just hope I don’t have to dream about it again.”

“Hopefully you won’t have to,” you say, spying your parents in the living room. “Good morning.”

They look up, both sending you a smile. “Morning girls. Sleep well?”

“I did. Ib said she had a nightmare, though.”

“Oh no! What was it about?” your mom asks, shifting her gaze to Ib.

“A creepy doll or something…it just kept staring at me.”

“Well, it can’t hurt you now,” you dad adds, smiling softly. You nod, about to say something when you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. A glance at the screen reveals that it’s a message from Garry:

Look at what I found!!

Attached is a picture of a chunky little groundhog peacefully nibbling on a patch of grass. You giggle quietly, typing a quick response:

Oh, that’s so cute!

“What’re you giggling at?” questions your father, taking a sip from his coffee as he eyes you.

“Oh, a friend just sent me a meme,” you reply, slipping your phone back into your pocket.

“I see.”

“Well, we hope you both have a great day. Take snacks if you need them, and be careful on your way there and back!”

“We will, Mom. Love you guys!”

“We love you too. Stay safe!”

…

The day drags on as normal once you drop Ib off at her school. Every class had been filled with you impatiently checking the time every so often. With every passing minute, you grew more and more excited about your upcoming meeting with Garry.

Since you get out earlier than Ib does today, that means you can walk with Garry before you pick her up. You have about two hours before that rolls around, and Garry should be at the coffee shop by the time you arrive.

As soon as your last class ends, you gather your belongings quickly before exiting. You mentally groan when you see that the elevator already has a line of people waiting for its ascent, so you decide to take the stairs again.

Thankfully, the light spring in your step makes the descent a bit easier to bear this time around. You’re on the ground floor before you know it.

Once more, the cool breeze envelopes your skin the moment you step outside. A soft smiles lines your lips as you pull out your phone, opening your messages app:

Hey Garry! I’m on my way now, I should be there in about five minutes or so

I’ll be waiting :)

“Nice,” you mumble as you read the message, stuffing your phone back in your pocket afterwards. The walk this time around seems much shorter than it was yesterday. Not that you’re complaining, because it seems like forever since you’ve wanted to talk to someone like this.

Soon enough, you find yourself in front of the café again. You push the door open, glancing inside to find Garry sitting at the same spot, phone in hand.

“Garry!”

He turns before smiling, standing up as you make your way over to him.

“Hello there!” he greets.

“Hey,” you respond. “How are you?”

“I’m doing well, and how about yourself?”

“I’m fine, thank you.” You really like how he’s so well-mannered, and actually enunciates his words. It sends a fluttery feeling to your stomach – one that feels almost nostalgic in an odd way.

“I decided it would be better if we ordered together, since we’re walking,” he says as the two of you approach the counter.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Of course.”

With that, the two of you place your orders before waiting at the end of the counter again. The silence between the two of you is comfortable, thankfully. You’re still excited, but part of you is growing a bit nervous now.

You dart from thought to thought for a few minutes before the barista slides your drinks onto the counter, smiling at the two of you. You realize it’s the same one that served you yesterday.

“Hey guys! Good to see you again. Sorry about the mix-up yesterday.”

“That’s quite all right,” Garry replies. “Thank you.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it!” you add, picking up your drink. “Thank you so much!”

“You’re welcome. Have a great day, guys.”

“You too!”

With that, the two of you swiftly exit the coffee shop, prepared for the walk.

You notice Garry has gone silent, staring ahead distantly. You follow his gaze, only to see that the old art gallery is the subject of his attention.

“Ever been in there?” you question.

“I visited it once, almost a year or so ago,” he comments, frowning.

“Funny. I went around a year ago too,” you say. Could that have been where you saw him?

“Interesting. Perhaps that’s where we saw each other?”

“It could be,” you note. “Wait. My sister went too. Maybe she’d recognize you, since she was with me that day?”

“Oh, maybe!”

“You should come with me when I go to pick her up from school, then. Her memory is way better than mine.”

He laughs a little, closing his eye as he does so. It makes you wonder why he hides his other eye behind his hair. “How long do you have until then?”

“A little under two hours,” you say, stepping a little closer to Garry in order to give passing people more room to walk. The two of you are still outside of the coffee shop, studying the art gallery intently.

“Ah, plenty of time.”

“Yeah. So, which way should we go?”

“I say we begin by heading right. From there, we can just go where the wind takes us.”

“I like the sound of that,” you say as the two of you start walking.

From there, you both fall into another comfortable silence. It seems to be a bit more thoughtful this time around, but as you sip on your drink and view your surroundings, you feel your shoulders relaxing more and more. How long had it been since you just enjoyed time with a friend like this?

For the most part, it remains quiet, but the two of you exchange a bit of get-to-know-the-other questions. You’re surprised at how comfortable you feel with him. It’s…natural. Like this is how things are supposed to be. Despite this, you know there’s something you’re missing.

It takes you a second to realize that Garry has stopped, leaving you a few feet in front of him. He’s turned towards the forest encircling the town, his eye apparently having been caught.

“Garry? Is something wrong?”

“I… No, but…well, I can’t quite explain it. But I feel like…” he trails off, frowning as he steps forward. Curiosity piqued, you follow him, staying quiet when he bends down to look at something.

“This,” he states, picking the object up. You frown, going to look at it.

“A blue petal?” you wonder, frowning. “What’s that doing here? It’s fall, and there are no blue flowers over here.”

Your friend nods in agreement. “I have the strangest feeling that I should hold onto this.”

“Then keep it somewhere safe. Your gut is almost always right.”

You’re about to add something when…

“Ow!” you cry, grunting as a sharp pain emanates from your head. It’s like a headache, but way more intense.

You hear Garry saying your name before he too cries out, kneeling down as well. You clutch your skull, willing for the pain to subside, when…

A/N: Thanks for the support on this series so far! I hope you enjoyed. I hope that the next chapter will be out soon. Reblogs, likes, and comments are all highly appreciated <3333 Also, please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for updates :D

#ib #rpg horror #reader insert #ib garry #ib game #garry x reader #garry ib #series

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Your Perfect Little Bubble

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: fluff, dad!sam fluff, minor angst

Request by anon: What about a Sam x reader where Sam and R are sleeping and their young child comes in because of a nightmare and wakes up reader wanting to sleep with their parents. With the lines “ ok, just don’t wake daddy up.” And Sam replies “Too late” Just domestic fluff! There just needs to be more Dad!Sam

Summary: Your little boy has a nightmare in the middle of the night and tells you about it.

nose kisses (2020 card) and child au (2021 card) for @spnfluffbingo​

family for @spntfwbingo​

domestic au for @spngenrebingo​

Author’s Note: I know this was requested a long time ago. Sorry this is just now coming out. This is unbeta’d and all mistakes are mine. If you have any requests, please send them in!

Having kids was never something you saw for yourself until you met Sam. Being truly happy with your life was never possible for you until you met Sam. You never saw having the things you have now until you met Sam. Everything happened when you met him, and you owe him your life--to try and pay back everything he gave to you. Ten years ago, if someone asked you what you would be doing with your life, it would certainly not be this.

Your eccentric five-year-old baby boy is full of life and is curious about everything. He has an eye for the good, to see what others can’t. When you found out you were pregnant, you refused to raise him the way John did with his boys. John shut his kids out unless he needed them, and even then, it was touch-and-go. Not with Dylan, no, you wanted to be different than the rest.

Dean has always said hunters aren't kids, but you’re doing a pretty damn good job at allowing your baby boy be a kid for as long as he can. He knows what’s out there because you decided to have the talk with him in the form of stories. Instead of just shoving him into the life and forcing him to deal with it like John did, you tell stories of vampires, djinns, angels, demons, and everything in between. With stories, you can show him it’s not that scary, and with hunter parents like Sam and Dean, it’s not.

The Bunker isn’t an ideal place to raise a child, but Dylan made sure to turn this place into his own personal playground. The two rooms you merged to make his playroom is just covered with toys. Whenever he had a birthday, Sam, Dean, and even Castiel would spoil him with lots of presents, so the Bunker is just littered with them.

You don’t mind much since it makes him so happy to get gifts. He’s not spoiled in a bad way--he always says please and thank you, and he is very grateful for what he gets. You don’t think you could have raised a better son, and there are still thirteen more years to go. You let Dylan play in his playroom after dinner, so when you enter the room to get him, a smile grows on your face.

He fell asleep while playing with the present Jack gave him--Marvelous Marvin the Talking Teddy. He also has one, and they play a lot together with them. You think it’s sweet how much your son grew to love Jack. They are close in age, so it makes sense that they would get along the best.

You walk over to your little man and pick him up gently, careful not to wake him up. His head rolls to rest on your chest, and you carry him to his room. He decorated it all on his own with the help of his father. There are stars and planets painted on the wall since he loves Toy Story and Buzz Lightyear and everything that has to do with space. You lay him in his bed and tuck him up, kissing him on the head when you’re finished.

Sam and Dean had just gotten back from a tough hunt, so to give your husband some time to settle into bed and go to sleep, you figured you would clean Dylan’s playroom first. If you were to go to bed now, and Sam was only half-asleep, he would wake as soon as you got into the bed. Years of being a hunter made him accustomed to being a light sleeper.

You tidy up Dylan’s playroom, putting the toys where they belong. Inside the room is a little table in the corner that is used for arts and crafts that he loves using. Today, him and Jack were painting some of the Toy Story characters. Your son’s paintings aren’t that great with Jack not that far behind him, but they had fun while doing it. You take the pictures and hang them in the designated spot that’s used to hang all the pictures that Dylan makes. Once they dry, he picks his favorite ones and you throw the rest of them away. The ones he picks go into a big photo album that he can look through when he’s older.

Once the room is cleaner, you head back to your shared room with Sam. You can hear his soft snores from his side of the bed, so you know he is fast asleep. You’re quiet as you change into your pajamas, and you slide into bed gently. Sam turns over so he's facing you, and in his sleep, he reaches out for you. You cuddle into his side, acting as the “little spoon”. His big arms wrap around your waist as his head buries itself into the crook of your neck.

If you could stay like this forever, you would. Immediately, you drift off to sleep knowing everyone inside the Bunker is safe and sound. You’re not sure when you wake up next, but you know it’s not morning. It’s not your alarm telling you that you two needed to get up to do your morning run. It’s not the smell of coffee coming from the kitchen that Jack loves to make since he barely sleeps. No, something much more innocent and vulnerable wakes you.

“Mommy,” Dylan whispers, shaking your shoulder.

“What is it, baby? Are you okay?” you whisper and turn on the lamp next to your bed on the lowest setting so it doesn’t wake Sam up.

“I had a nightmare.”

“Come here,” you say and pat the area between you and Sam.

Sam had managed to scoot as far as possible away from you during the night, so there is plenty of room for Dylan to crawl in without waking his father. He settles in next to you, and you push his long hair away from his face. He is growing more to look like Sam every single day. He refuses to cut his hair claiming he wants to look like Daddy.

“Tell me about your nightmare, sweetheart. Just don’t wake Daddy up.”

“Too late,” Sam grumbles and flips to face you two. “What’s going on?”

“Dylan had a nightmare. He was just going to tell me about it.”

“Alright, buddy, we’re all ears. We’re listening,” Sam yawns.

“I had a nightmare about you and Daddy. You were killed by a monster and you left me all alone,” Dylan sighs.

You look at Sam knowingly, and that little story causes him to become more alert. You’re not a hunter anymore--not since you found out you were pregnant. You’re a stay-at-home mom while Sam and Dean go out and fight the monsters. You help when you can from the Bunker, but you don’t go out anymore. This isn’t your department anymore, so Sam takes over. He grabs Dylan by the waist and plops him on his elated legs so that he’s resting his back on them.

“Listen, Dylan, your mom and I aren’t going to die. I know it’s scary, okay? Believe me, I was once your age thinking the same thing about my dad. It was scary for me not knowing if he was ever going to come home, but it doesn’t have to be like that for you. Your uncle and I will always make it home to you and your mom. You have Uncle Jack and Cas here to protect you. They’re angels, so if I’m ever hurt, they can fix me right up. You won’t ever have to be alone.”

“Your daddy’s right, baby. Monsters are scary, okay? Monsters can hurt a lot of people, but your daddy and your uncle go out and kill the bad people so that the good people can be happy. Just like in your stories,” you add with a smile.

“Okay,” he nods, believing every word you and Sam say.

“You want to show your mom what we’ve been working on?” Sam asks with a smile, and that seems to brighten up your son.

“Yeah!”

He and Sam have been working on a secret handshake that only the two of them know. It puts a smile on your face to know that your son has this to fall back on. When he’s scared or alone, he can think back to times like these to feel better. When they are done, Dylan squeals in happiness when Sam bear-hugs him.

“That’s pretty cool,” you beam.

“Are you feeling much better?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Dylan smiles widely.

“Do you want to sleep in here with us?” you ask.

Dylan nods, and Sam puts him back where he was before. Dylan snuggles underneath the blanket and passes the fuck out. When you know he is fast asleep, you look at Sam with a loving smile.

“We did a good job with this one,” you say.

“We should have another one,” Sam whispers.

“I’d love nothing more.”

You lean closer to him and rub your nose against him to give him some Eskimo kisses before kissing him on the lips. It’s slow and sensual, but nothing short of loving. You pull away and cuddle into him with Dylan in between you two.

Your perfect little family all wrapped up in a perfect little bow.

Wanna get tagged? Add yourself to this document! If your tag doesn’t work, find out why! Follow my library blog @queenofdeansbooty-writes​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can follow that if you can’t be tagged!

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#spnfluffbingo #spntfwbingo #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester fic #sam winchester fiction #sam winchester fan fiction #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester fan fic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #spn #spn fic #spn fanfiction #spn fluff

[misslilli]

As always, thank you guys for leaving likes and reblogging, when I read the tags I always skip off to write another chapter 😁

Felix Felicis

MSR. AU. PG-13. | tagging @today-in-fic | read on AO3

Chapter 23 - C Is For Closing Off

[ DS ]

I manage to get home in one piece and enter the house, dropping my book bag into a corner with a heavy thud. Dinner preparations are well underway as I step into the kitchen, the girls gathered around the stove, peering into a pot.

“Hey D, take a whiff of this, it smells deli-“ Sarah stops herself mid-sentence when she sees me, pale and shaky, tear-tracks still visible on my face. They swoop in and engulf me in a group hug.

“Oh my God, D, what happened? Are you hurt?” I shake my head and they lead me over to the dining table, sitting me down in one of the chairs, Holly keeping her arm around my shoulder.

I bury my face in my hands, the girls regarding me silently. “I’m such an idiot!” Holly brushes her fingers through my hair in a soothing gesture. “It’ll be okay, D. It’s going to be okay.” They give me time to compose myself and once I do, I tell them the story of what happened in the gym today. By the time I get to the end, I’m crying again.

“I can’t believe how stupid I am! It was perfect, he was perfect, it was so romantic, and sexy, you know, and I … I just ruined it!”

Sarah mutters under her breath: “I’m going to kill that motherf-…” She’s stopped by Alex with a hand on her arm and a slight shake of Alex’s head.

“D, why don’t you tell us what happened after school tonight?” I nod and dab my cheeks with the offered Kleenex, trying to put my jumbled thoughts into words.

“It was a really perfect moment, but… it was just… too much, all at once, you know? One minute, we’re bantering back and forth, I’m thinking about smacking his ass and the next minute his body is pressed against my back and his hands are on my waist – it all hit me head on like a freight-train so I panicked. It felt so good, so right.”

Alex places a hand on mine. “D, I’m sorry but I have to ask: Did he make you feel unsafe?”

I replay the scene in my mind and shake my head. “No. He never once made me feel unsafe, he handled me like I was made of glass.” After a pause, I add: “He made me feel 50 shades of turned-on, though.” I blush and smile wryly, trying to lighten the situation.

“Not to be disrespectful, but holy hell, the first part of that story makes me feel 50 shades of turned-on!” Holly’s admission makes us all laugh and I’ve never been so grateful for my friends in my entire life.

“So, where do we go from here?”

“I honestly don’t know, Sarah. I just need time to think, sort out the demons in my head with my therapist. I also don’t think I should see him again for a while, at least not one-on-one.”

“Whatever you need, D. Just one thing: I think you should talk to him about it. He probably thinks he’s screwed up royally now, and it only makes it worse if you start avoiding him.” At my panicked look Alex continues: “You don’t have to tell him everything, just tell him he’s done nothing wrong and that you need some space, okay?” I nod and find myself once again incredibly grateful to have three amazing friends to talk me off the ledge.

“Thank you guys, I wouldn't know what to do without you!”

----------

[ Felix ]

When mom drops me off on Sunday, the house is dark and quiet. I know dad is home because his car’s in the driveway, his shoes are by the front door and his keys are on their hook. The kitchen is a mess of dirty dishes and the whole house smells kind of funky.

I find dad passed out on the couch, his face illuminated by the glare of the TV, the remote clutched tightly to his chest. Fishing the afghan, whose smell oddly reminds me of Miss Scully, off the back of the couch, I drape it over my dad and then go through to the kitchen to clean up.

Normally, I’m not allowed to load the dishwasher because dad claims “I do it all wonky” but I can’t think of anything else to do and I want to help. Our house is not usually this messy and I wonder what happened here this weekend.

I finish putting the dirty dishes away and drag a chair over to the windows, climbing up to open them, shivering at the cold air from outside.

--

[ FM ]

A breeze of icy cold November air hits my face and my nose catches a whiff of Scully’s perfume. I jolt awake, my sleep-hazy brain thinking she’s somehow here, sitting at the end of the couch with that beautiful smile on her face. With a pang I realize it’s just the afghan she slept under after the party and I bury my face into the fabric, breathing in deeply. I feel like crying as the memories from earlier that day come flooding back.

She came by around noon, the sharp knock catching me by surprise, I wasn’t expecting anyone. I opened the door and there she was, a 5’3 gorgeous mixture of bright blue eyes and lips the color of ripe strawberries that would make any man weak in the knees. The prospect of finally being able to apologize and make things right between us made me at least a tiny bit hopeful that I didn’t screw up past the point of no return.

She asked me to let her speak first and with each word that came out of her mouth, I felt the screws of the vice around my heart tighten painfully. I wanted to scream. The ringing in my ears was so loud, I could barely make out her words.

Affirming me that I’d done nothing wrong. Telling me that it’s for the best if we don’t see each other for a while. I felt lost. Free falling. How was I supposed to keep track of time without measuring it in glimpses of her?

“I… Scully I’m sorry… if I made you uncomfor-“ She shakes her head and I stop talking. Her voice is quiet, her face sad, her eyes pleading with me to let her go.

“I just need some space Mulder. I’m sorry.” I only manage to nod my head once and my hands want so desperately to reach out and touch her face, hold her in my arms, keep her from leaving me here on this sorry doorstep. They reach to grab her arm, reaching, reaching but all they grasp is cold air, because she has already left.

I can feel tiny arms wrap themselves around me and a tiny kiss on my cheek and I open my eyes to find Felix hugging me tightly, silently.

I’m glad he doesn’t ask what’s wrong because I don’t want to explain what happened, can’t explain it to my innocent little boy, so I just hug him back until we both fall asleep.

#xf #the x files #xf fanfic #msr #felix felicis