#ship: brown-eyed handsome man | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

clonemedickix · 10 months

Text

EDIT- after I posted this and looked it afresh, I’m not sure he’s as handsome as I thought at first 🤦🏽‍♀️

OC Primer is a handsome dude, right?

Show of hands on who’d root for this brown eyed boy in a fanfic? Because I have a deal for you!

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence | Adult themes | Blood and gore | Under 18 DNI

Category: F/M

Relationship: CT-7567 | Rex/Original Female Character(s)

EXCERPT:

Primer and Boost were making a run for supplies, having taken a small squad to Ryloth for trading and purchasing. They wanted doonium for fuel, to supply their homes with warmth and get their ships off the ground. They planned to hang around on the planet for a while, maybe see if the men could get leads on other clones needing evac or help. The men disembarked the cargo ship and made their way into the city of Lessu, ready to bargain and buy. It didn’t take long to see it was a city more or less under marshal law. There were stormtroopers everywhere, and several fortified areas scattered around, all heavily guarded. They noted there were even areas of new construction, as if something had happened here fairly recently requiring rebuilding. Primer and Boost shrugged it off; Ryloth had always been a system at war, holding out against the Separatists as long as they could during the Clone War. They were a fierce and stubborn people, and the clones noted many furtive looks thrown their way from the natives. Primer nodded to his men to keep their hats down and heads low; clones were all rather easily recognizable since they shared the same face and voice, nearly the same build and gait. It wouldn’t do to get picked up by the Empire as deserters.

The men fanned out through the city, going about locating and purchasing the supplies they needed, but came up a bit empty when trying to buy doonium. It seemed the Empire had cornered the market on that particular product, taking over the mines and refusing to distribute the fuel to any other buyers. Primer noted the Twi’lek citizens seemed rather tight lipped and angry about the whole subject. They were mining the fuel, but it was basically being stolen from them right under their very noses. The city was uneasy, simmering in anger and ready to boil to the surface. It didn’t take the clones long to realize they should probably hurry their business and leave.

There was a bit of a to do happening on the edge of the shops, over at the landing zone for the city’s ambassadorial palace. An Imperial shuttle was standing ready for loading, and they noted a very tall, imposing figure in black, helmeted and cloaked like some kind of dark king. He was surrounded by a platoon of stormtroopers, and they were loading a group of what appeared to be prisoners on the shuttle. Primer wondered who in the galaxy that black figure could be; he’d never even heard of such a person before. Some of the prisoners appeared to be Twi’lek, but some were…clones. A couple of them suddenly put up a bit of resistance, and Primer was horrified to see the stormtroopers immediately start to beat the two men senseless while the dark man watched, his posture impassive. Boost stood next to Primer quietly watching the spectacle, and in their shock, they were noticed by a couple of the white clad stormtroopers on the periphery of the landing area, who raised an alarm that there were deserters among the crowd. Their cries got the attention of the figure in black, who turned his baleful glance in their direction, and ordered a squad of troopers to apprehend the clones. Primer and Boost turned and made to disappear into the crowd, hoping to lose their pursuers in the streets and warrens of Lessu.

This move only made the Man in Black send more troopers after them, and he evidently had little compunction about harming innocent civilians. He ordered his men to tear the city apart, spare no shop or street vendor in their search for the wayward clones, and Primer and his squad soon found themselves back at the periphery of the city, barricading themselves against the front of a building and using random carts and shipping containers for cover. The stormtroopers opened fire as soon as they saw Primer and the clones dig in. The Man in Black hung back a bit, watching the erstwhile battle unfold, studying the moves the clones were making. They seemed incredibly familiar to him, tactics he’d seen before as if in another life. When a Twi’lek child wandered onto the edge of their fire, Primer saw it and darted over to grab him, shielding the boy with his body and basically throwing him out of the way. It put Primer near a trooper, who moved to fire on him with a stunning blast. Primer grabbed a lid from a refuse bin for cover to redirect the blast at the trooper, missed his aim on the bounce and then took the shield and belted the trooper across the body with it. He followed that action up with a roundhouse kick that sent the stormtrooper flying into a heap, and rolled back under the incoming fire to his men, taking cover behind their barricade again. That was enough for the Man in Black’s memory to click. Only men from one group would have used a move like that. The Man commanded his troopers to pull back, and requested reinforcements from their cruiser orbiting the planet to be sent to the surface. He also had them set up an automatic heavy Z6 chain gun to fire on them in the meantime.

Primer knew some element about the fight had changed when the troopers pulled back and firing stopped for a moment. “What just happened, LT?” Boost asked in surprise and concern.

“Not sure,” Primer answered back tersely. “They may have made us,” he said with a worried tone. He could see them working on setting up the heavy gun; they were going to have to think up some plan fast or they’d all be dead soon.

“Well, what are we supposed to do about that? It’s just us. If we can’t get out of here and back to the ship without tearing Lessu apart, what should we do?” Boost was worried - it appeared to his trained eye that they were severely low on options.

Primer gave his sergeant a look out of the corner of his eye and a small shrug. Damned if he knew, the motion seemed to imply. Internally, he was doing his best to think up options, but he was seething really. He’d been a fool, standing there gaping like that where people could see his face. How could he have messed up so badly? What would the General do when she found out they were taken by the Empire? His anxiety was ratcheting up a notch every minute a solution didn’t present itself, which in turn was sending out signals he couldn’t control, or block. Belatedly, he realized she would know. The General would know they were in trouble because of his shared connection to her, and she would come for them, regardless of how he felt about that move. They had put her in danger with their actions, because Lara would not leave them to be taken.

Boost saw Primer freeze in some kind of terrible realization out of the corner of his eye, and was turning to ask what was wrong, what new threat was on the radar, when it was as if silence suddenly descended on them in a vacuum. The Man in Black turned to the troopers manning the heavy gun and gave them the order to open fire. In slow motion, Primer saw them turn to arm the gun and fire, but before the first blasts even got to their barricade, the bolts were stopped in midair, hanging in the open and vibrating with their potential power. Primer closed his eyes in knowledge and in some despair. It was too late to alter course now, though. As if time suddenly sped back up and sound returned with it, they looked over to see Lara standing behind them, holding the blaster bolts frozen by means of the Force.

11 notes · View notes

itzvintagevibez · 2 years

Text

Park Jimin X Female Reader -"Mrs?"

Requests : OPEN

Warnings : None

Category : Fluff

Ship/Pairing : Park Jimin x Female Reader

-START HERE-

Seriously, didn't it have to rain while I'm on my morning jogs. I decided to cancel my daily morning jogging exercise and head straight to the gym instead, lucky I always carried my gym card whenever I go for jogs for incase I decide to do a few workouts. I enter the the workout building and decided to go do some push ups while using the bench presser. [idk wth these are] As I choose the bench I using I placed my bag near the workout tool, to prevent a theft from happening. I managed to do only...2...but I wasn't about to give up and somehow managed to do 3 more, 'excellent' I thought to myself. I tried to do one more but once I pushed it high enough my limbs became weak and the dumbbell was going down, about to crush my chest, till a strong pair of arms gripped on them and pulled them back to their position. "Are you okay?" the soft voice spoke and I couldn't speak due to my loss of air and trying to regain my breathing while my chest rose and fell. After sometime I spoke, even-though my eyes were still shut tight as if I was a pregnant woman who had just given birth to a newborn child "Yes, thank you" I finally opened my eyes and instead of meeting the ceiling my eyes were met with a pair of dark brown eyes that look as if they are as sweet as sugar yet dark as chocolate.

I must have been staring for quite sometime because the brown eyed man became to wave his hand in front of my face pulling me out of a trace. "Huh!? oh sorry I didn't mean to..ya know" "No it's fine I get" he takes a step back as I sat myself on the bench presser. "Oh by the way, I really appreciated what you did" I said breaking the awkward silence "No worries" he said while running his hands throw his long black hair which had a few strips of purple, pink and white in them. We stood in silence for what seemed like ages until the rain outside seemly started to stop and the sun was coming out. Looking at my apple to check the time to find out it was 9:30 and I had a very important meeting to attend to at 10:30 so I quickly stood up in a panic while never looking away from the time. "Well, I'm sorry to do this but I best take my leave, I have a very important meeting to attend to, goodbye and thank you!" I said while running to exit as I screamed the last four words, hoping he heard me. I made my out of the gym and was about to make a run home, till a familiar voice called out. I turned my head around and met with eyes with the previous brown eyed man from before. "Excuse me, but you forgot your bag inside the gym, at least I'm assuming it's yours," he says pulling up my bag that I had mistakenly left behind. "Oh my goodness, thank you so much" I said taking my bag from his hand as our arms brushed against each other. "Your welcome, Mrs...?" I looked at him with a confused expression plastered on my face. "Mrs?" "Aren't you married?" he asks with a confused expression on his face. "No I'm not" I say "Oh sorry, I expected you to be since your so beautiful" he says chuckling while looking down to the floor in embarrassment. I blushed red hot while trying not to squeal at the fact that a handsome just complimented me for my looks. "Uh, it's fine and thank you" I say now looking at the floor embarrassed. "Your welcome...um...Miss..." he says now looking at me. "Y/L/N, my name's Y/n Y/L/N" I say he reaches out his hand for me to shake and as I do he introduces himself as Park Jimin...

"Beautiful isn't it?" I say while tucking my daughter to sleep. "It is mommy" I smile as I place a kiss on her forehead "Mommy?" she says, I hum in response as she plays with my fingers. "So are you now a Mrs?" "Yes, sweetie" I poke her nose as she giggles. "Is it cause you married daddy?" she says. "Yes my cherry" a voice response behind me and I turn around and see my adorable husband. I grab him by his arm and pull him down so now he was sitting next to me on our daughter's bed. "Daddy, mommy is a Mrs what?" "Sweetie, you don't know daddy's last name?" I teasingly as she laughs at my question nodding her head. I shake my head at her sillyness and felt a grip on my waist as I turn to face my husband who was staring at my eyes as he confidently said with a smirk on his lips.

"Mommy is now a Mrs Park"

#park jimin #jin #namjoon #taehyung #bangtan #jungkook #yoongi #j hope #suga #seokjin #hoseok #min yoongi #bts #bts fic #bts v

4 notes · View notes

apowersodivine · 2 years

Text

#FFXIVWrite2022 Day 21//Look What You Made Me Do

Note: The character talked about is... not a good person. Take that into consideration. Also, there is talk of murder. Reader discrestion is advised.

The elezen found herself at a lavish party in a lavish mansion in The Goblet, resplendent in white. A form fitting, shoulder-baring, gauzy white dress. Long white silk gloves. A pearl necklace that was white until the light hit it just so, and then became iridescent. She even had twinkling silver and diamond stars adorning her long, dark chocolate brown hair.

The house was owned by a monetarist, whose name she couldn’t remember or didn’t care to. She only needed to know the name of the one who had invited her. A kindly lalafell who had promised to help her get her... tits-up shipping business right-side up.

Or so he thought. In reality, she was using this party to hunt. To watch. To prey. Everyone else here was rich. Except the help, of course. And that could be her, if she wasn’t smarter than all of them, both poor and rich. She had spent some time conversing with a good handful of candidates but then needed a break to rest. To assess.

She let out a small sigh, sipping champagne as she eyed her would-be benefactor. Too bad he didn’t seem to be interested in someone so tall. So elezen. Perhaps so female? So... adult? She couldn’t put a finger on it, but he wasn’t interested in her, so there must be something wrong with him.

So she’d have to use the opportunity to find someone who had some sense and found her attractive. The mark being handsome would be preferable, but she’d settle if she had to. Just as long as they were rich and easy to put firmly beneath her thumb.

Her deep garnet eyes glazed over, a finger tapping against the fragile glass clasped in her hand. She nearly dropped it when a hulking figure approached her, standing there silently. Expectantly. Waiting.

She raised her eyes to the roegadyn, one brown perking as she asked, “Can I help you?”

He grunted. “You’re the shipping magnate, right? Sharlayan?”

“Yes, that is me.” She eyed him. “And you are a guard. I didn’t know guards were allowed to flit around and socialize. How quaint.”

His eye twitched. “How long have you had this business. Couldn’t be long. Wasn’t the city all.. closed off? For a long time?”

She clenched her jaw. “It feels as if you’re interrogating me. What could I have ever done wrong?”

He stared at her with dark, dumb dog eyes. “I know a liar when I see one. You’re going to have to answer for all the contradictions I’ve heard come out of your pretty mouth.”

She couldn’t help but grin. “I have no idea what you mean, but I don’t appreciate you eavesdropping on my conversations. I’d be grateful if you could... not do that.” She batted her long eyelashes, mockingly.

This only made him scowl and lean toward her to grumble, “I’m watching you.” And then he was off.

Ah. The poor oaf. She could watch him too. And she did.

And only a week later, the man was found face down in one of the rivers in Middle La Noscea. He had been stabbed multiple times in the torso and his face had nearly been beaten in. Of course, there were pirates nearby. He must have been engaged in some shady business.

Yes. he must have.

(Written for my character Sidonie or @insidonie )

#ffxivwrite2022 #ffxivwrite2022 day 21 #sidonie buisaire

4 notes · View notes

strangeracrossthestreet · 2 years

Text

Music List AHOY

Times Are Hard For Dreamers (Original London Cast Recording) (Amelie Musical) Stay (Original London Cast Recording) (Amelie Musical) Give It Up (from Victorious) 【covered by Anna ft. OR3O】 The Smartphone Hour (Rich Set a Fire) (Katie Ladner · Katlyn Carlson · Lauren Marcus) Purity Ring - begin again Unknown Brain - DEAD (ft. KAZHI) [NCS Release] Scott Helman - Sweet Tooth 35MM - The Ballad of Sara Berry Bastille - Good grief SAINT MOTEL - Old Soul Carla Thomas - B-A-B-Y The Commodores - Easy Boga - Nowhere to Run Focus - Hocus Pocus The Jon Spencer Blues Explosion - Bellbottoms Coyote Kid - Femme Fatale Malinda - Don't Make Me Roses & Revolutions - Big Bad Wolf Cypress & Co. - Underworld Matt Maeson - Put It On Me Hayley Kiyoko - Demons Louisa - YES Doja Cat - Say so Doja Cat - Kiss me More Meghan Trainor - Genetics Svrcina - Astronomical Hurts - Silver Lining HOUSE OF SAY - Be My Remedy The Family Crest - Howl Florencemachine - Howl Saweetie & GALXARA - Sway With Me (from Birds of Prey: The Album) Leeandlie (AmaLee) - Fallen Angel Egzod & EMM - Game Over [NCS Release] Rare Americans - Rhythm Kitchen Pomplamoose - Bust Your Knee Caps UNDREAM - Monster (ft. IOVA) Meg Myers - Heart Heart Head April Smith and the Great Picture Show - Dixie Boy Aurora - Heathens Aurora - Everything Matters Aurora - Blood in the Wine Aurora - Murder Song (5, 4, 3, 2, 1) Aurora - Exhale Inhale Tick Tick Boom - Therapy Editors - Eat Raw Meat = Blood Drool Annella - Perfume Annella - Bass Me Baby Nothing More - Let 'Em Burn That Handsome Devil - Fire Pentatonix - Mary did you know Pentatonix - My favorite things Marina and the Diamonds - How to be a Heartbreaker idkhbtfm - choke Ciara - Freak Me feat. Tekno Night Runner - Magnum Bullets Avril Lavigne - Bite Me Woodkid - Run boy Run NEONI - Downfall NEONI - Wars in a Wonderland (ep mix) Stela Cole - Love like Mine Stela Cole - I shot Cupid Sickick - Mind Games Sickick - Serum Glee - Smooth Criminal The Toxic Avenger - My Only Chance (from Furi original soundtrack) Pearl Jam - Do the Evolution Ricky Martin - Livin La Vida Loca Waitress (Original Broadway Cast Recording) - She Used to be Mine Blackbriar - Let me In Egzod - Rise up Alter. - Hardly Gods The Longest Johns - Ashes, from Cures What Ails Ya Poor Man's Poison - Wayfaring Stranger Poor Man's Poison - Feed the Machine Poor Man's Poison - Give and Take Zella Day - Jerome Egzod & Maestro Chives - Royalty (ft. Neoni) Aliceband - Fight for Me The Fray - How to Save a Friend Kodaline - Brother Mindy Gledhill - I Do Adore [this song is so FUCKING CUTE I LOVE IT] Misery x CPR x Reese's Puffs (extended version) [I've listened to this on loop so many times...] Bitter Ruin - Leather for Hell Bitter Ruin - Stampede Bitter Ruin - Trust fin - ship in a bottle Halsey - Without Me VaultBoy - Everything Sucks ft. GRACEY (G)l-DLE - LATATA (english ver)

Now...It's time for some non-english stuff~

DREAMCATCHER [my beloved... Honestly just listen to all of their songs LOL]: BEcause Scream BOCA Odd Eye MAISON Tension Red Sun Black or White Sahara In The Frozen Daybreak Full Moon Chase Me Good Night You and I Wake up Fly High Mayday Trap PIRI Deja Vu The curse of the spider No Dot (SU A SOLO) Breaking Out 4 Memory

MAMAMOO: Gogobebe HIP Um Oh Ah Yeah Egotistic Aya Yes I am Piano Man Starry Night Dingga Decalcomanie 1 cm Wind Flower Delilah Water Color (Whee In) Butterfly (Whee In) NO THANKS (Whee In) Trash (Whee In) Maria (Hwasa) Twit (Hwasa) Spit it Out (Solar) Honey (Solar) It's been a long time (Solar)

The Rest:

Mozart l'opéra rock - Penser l'impossible Mozart Opera Rock - L'Assasymphonie Mozart l'opéra rock - Le bien qui fait mal Глюк’oZa - Ebobo Глюк’oZa - Жу-жу Глюк’oZa - Мотыльки (feat. KYIVSTONER) Inkya Impulse (インキャインパルス) Asobi Asobase Ending Full Ado - Odo Ado - Usseewa Ado - Readymade Raon - Envy Baby Raon - The Vampire Raon - King / Kanaria IU - Jam Jam Brown Eyed Girls - Abracadabra Fake Type - Nightmare Parade Maître Gims - Est-ce que tu m'aimes

And there you have it @justburnitwithfire Now you know me on a fundamental level BHGFHGBDFBGJFD Hope some of these are to your liking LMAO I didn’t want to send it in an ask because I don’t know how long this is characters wise wheezes

#everyone else...#DO NOT perceive me #but enjoy the random music list non the less BHGDFBHJGFDBHJGBFHJ

3 notes · View notes

thechaosmuses · 1 year

Note

SPOTIFY WRAPPED ( 21, Aleksandr + Belladonna bcuz ship idea )

In honor of SPOTIFY WRAPPED, send me a number 1-100 and I’ll write you a starter based on the song. // Song #21: Love You More - Ashley Kutcher // I love this song, and this got away from me to say the least- I hope it's okay!

A few years ago, Belladonna had come to Mystic Falls to stay with her cousin for a little while, it was mutually beneficial; Bella needed time away from Salem, especially after accidentally using her powers in school and Bonnie needed time with family other than her father. It was during this time that she crossed paths with a charming and handsome man named Aleksandr. She knew about vampires and all the other creatures that roamed the night; she’d even befriended some of the Salvatores. And being a Bennet witch, she should’ve known better than to develop feelings for a vampire, especially a Petrova vampire. However, despite everything inside her and everyone around her telling her no, she had fallen for Aleksandr anyway.

They kept their relationship a secret from their family and friends, worried how all of them would react if they found out they were sleeping with the enemy. Their relationship consisted of a lot of lying to the ones they cared about, sneaking out and long drives down back roads to a cabin that Bella’s grandmother owned just outside of Mystic Falls where they could actually be alone. Unfortunately, their relationship was short lived as tensions quickly rose between the opposing sides of their friends and family which only got worse after Kamen had grown suspicious of where his brother was going and followed him to find out.

The doppelganger vampire was nothing if not a troublemaker, so he had told everyone before Bella and Alek even knew that he’d known. The couple had already been fighting all the time as people had been getting hurt, something the young witch wasn’t at all okay with. Their friends and family finding out had just been the final nail in the coffin that made them realize they should go their separate ways. The Bennett witch packed her bags and went back to Salem as everything in Mystic Falls only served as a reminder of the man she’d loved. She tried to move on and get by, trying to forget all about the brown-eyed vampire she still loved.

The brunette knew things were better this way, in a perfect world or in another life maybe they would’ve worked out, but this wasn’t a perfect world. She graduated a few months after moving back to Salem and not long after she’d moved to New Orleans to go to college. It was at a cafe while studying for finals that she met a sweet, charming man, and he was everything she could’ve ever wanted and more which should’ve been enough. She slowly but surely fell for him though if she was being honest, she wasn’t sure she’d ever feel love the way she had when she was with Alek.

There were times when he would grab her hand or wrap his arms around her, and it was as if she could still feel Aleksandr’s touch. It was at that point that she realized she would never be able to give him all of her as a piece of her heart still belonged to the Petrova vampire. She also realized she needed some kind of closure and decided to write a letter to the man she couldn’t seem to forget. She wrote out everything she felt, the anger, the sadness, the acceptance that she knew the two of them would never work out and how despite everything she only wished the best for him. She finished the letter with a simple sentence that read, “There’s two things I know for sure, I love him, but I’ll always love you more.”

Though she’d never really intended to send the letter, even though she had addressed it and put a stamp on it, simply placing it in the back of her journal for safe keeping. However, one day it’d fallen out onto the dining table of the apartment she shared with a close friend of hers and being the good friend they were they decided to send the letter out. When they told Bella later that day she’d completely freaked out though there was nothing she could do now. She wasn’t even sure if the letter would make it to Alek, and a part of her hoped it never would but a small part of her wanted it to. Months passed and all was quiet, so she figured he never got it and went on trying to move on with her life. More time passed and she’d honestly forgotten all about the letter.

At least until tonight, she was home alone when there was a knock on her door and knowing her boyfriend and roommate were out of town and both had keys she was quite confused as to who it was. The brunette made her way to the door and opened it without undoing the top lock as a precaution, looking out of the opening to see who was knocking. As soon as the Bennett witch locked eyes with the Petrova vampire standing on the other side she immediately shut the door in his face. She took a minute to compose herself before she undid the lock and opened the door, knowing he couldn’t come in unless she invited him. “What are you doing here, Alek?”

#[the vampire diaries muses answer;]#[heldheart // aleksandr petrova]#[tvd muse; belladonna bennett]#[belladonna x aleksandr]#[verse; main/name pending]#[ooc; this is 871 words btw- and ngl i lowkey blacked out writing it]#[to anyone seeing this; send me more numbers for the spotify wrapped thingy pleaseeeee]

0 notes

jeriaiello · 2 years

Photo

NEW today at JeriAielloartstore.Etsy.com—11 1/2 x 9 inch sugar skull sand painting. The wood was precut. I painted the white area with acrylic paint. All of the colored areas are sand. It sparkles! Marigolds are the symbolic flower for Day of the Dead. Her pretty blue eyes are surrounded with marigolds. There are marigolds on both sides of her face. She is also wearing a red rose. She’s wearing pink lipstick for the celebration. Her brown eyed handsome man sugar skull will soon be listed and sold separately in my Etsy shop. USA shipping is free to you. I hope you can feel the love that went into these sand paintings. They take forever because you have to wait forever for each little grain of sand to dry before adding another color. #sandpainting #sugarskull #diadelosmueros #dayofthedead #oct31/nov1 #calavera #allsoalsday #skeleton #skull #etsy #jeriaielloartstore #mixedmedia #wallhanging #freeusashipping https://www.instagram.com/p/CiN0Z0Uu4Mq/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

#sandpainting #sugarskull #diadelosmueros #dayofthedead #oct31 #calavera #allsoalsday #skeleton #skull #etsy #jeriaielloartstore #mixedmedia #wallhanging #freeusashipping

0 notes

messygray · 2 years

Text

Keep Your Eyes On Him

it's him, everyone wanted a piece of, Jung Le

The first time Le heard about a young man who would unknowingly become a thorn in her side was through her father. Word spreads fast among the top-tier socialites of Seoul. And of course, her father would be front and center in the midst of it all.

And so it comes to no surprise at all when that middle-aged geezer comes storming through the doors of her assigned office, not a knock to be heard as he slams the door shut– only for it to be jerked open once again by her mother’s familiar figure. Immediately reclining into the swivel chair of her desk, the couple’s twenty-eight year old daughter immediately crosses her arms, an eyebrow raised in question for the sudden, noisy entrance.

“Let me guess, news is so important a family meeting couldn’t wait until we got home?” The stone cold, gravelly voice cuts in as Le’s parents struggle to regain their breaths. Still, her father doesn’t miss a chance to shoot daggers at the woman, anger flaring with the lack of respect, despite his rushed, punched out breaths struggling to bring air into his lungs.

“Is that how you speak to us? Family or not, you are still only a board member, Le.” Her father warns. But Le simply waves him off and returns to the paper set in front of her.

“Well then, sir. What can I do for you?”

No one answers right away. And just as Le thinks her parents are going to dismiss whatever was on their minds, her mother speaks. “Do you recall a boy named Harlow? Lim Hanbin?”

Lim Hanbin. A name Le certainly recognized, yet hadn’t heard of since her early grade school years.

She recalls witnessing news bearing his name by the time she was only maybe eleven or twelve years old. At the time, it’d been television news, publicized for the world to see; of a tragedy to the boy’s family when his mother passed from some freak accident in the emergency room. And the only reason the poor boy had been pushed into the spotlight was because of his trust funds. Millions, maybe even billions, of dollars locked away, just waiting for the pretty-eyed, innocent child to take over. At the time, although Le herself had been too young to fully comprehend the financial impact of the situation, little Hanbin had been showcased to the socialite world. As a tragedy and a target of profits… despite his father’s very-well presence among businessmen in the artistic world.

Hanbin fades from her earliest memories thereafter, their age gap of approximately three and a half years just a little too big for their school years to cross paths much (if at all). Or maybe it was simply because the poor boy had been shipped away by his father after the tragic incident and didn’t visit again for quite some time.

The next time Le hears of him, and the first time for any opportunity for formal introductions, is in passing down the halls of Jeguk’s campus.

But by then, the little boy Le recalled from her memories was gone. And in its place- a young, handsome fellow, tall- taller than she, and broad in the shoulders, as if he’d been involved in sports all his life. He had lighter brown hair now, but equally dark eyes. And a smooth, flawless complexion. It was during her senior year in high school. Hanbin- Harlow, as he had started to introduce himself, had just enrolled into his freshman (year).

“Hello, my name is Lim Hanbin, but please call me Harlow. I just got back from abroad, so I hope you’ll excuse my lack of etiquette with Jeguk.”

His words were crystal clear. Sophistication oozed from his clothes, despite only being fourteen, maybe fifteen years of age then.

(“Jung Le. Just stay out of my way and try to survive.”)

And although, somehow, Le had assumed he simply would choose not to stay out of the way, Hanbin does. Unlike the rest of the socialites who sought power and influence like an overcrowded shark tank ready to burst at the seams from tension and conflict, this boy… didn’t seem to care.

Instead, Hanbin- Harlow, spends his time doing anything but intervening with the socialites.

And although it takes at least three months to realize, Le eventually comes to find herself acknowledging his presence and opinions, nonetheless. Through the conversations of fellow classmates, she comes to learn of his mellow nature and lacking drive to be at the very top of their cut-throat food chain. ‘It’s just not my taste, why fake it so hard, if you’ll hate the outcome, anyway?’ And although Le tries not to listen in so deeply, somehow she finds herself doing so, regardless.

And in that final year of schooling, Jung Le envies Lim Hanbin’s carefree nature. She envies the way he enjoyed water polo and attended every practice and every event. She envies the way his eyes sparkled prettily as he chattered all too loudly and disruptively down the halls with his own friends about that one stupid biology lesson and how he couldn’t wait to become a pharmacist in the labs. She envies the way (as she’d learned from one of her own classmates who was far too starry eyed for the stupid freshman) Harlow knew how to cook and take care of his place of residence, yet rolled up into the campus parking lot every day in first a bmw i8 and then his lexus lc.

It wasn’t fair for the boy to be so unapologetically his own style, to fly without restrictions like the rest of the elites at the school. Even moreso, it wasn’t fair how attractive it seemed in a social circle so twisted and demented by thoughts of sophistication that even Le’s own few friends had to swoon. He hadn’t done so with intention, but somehow Harlow became the talk here and there. As if he was some bad boy rebel delinquent to some of them, despite never actually being any of those things.

Maybe Le herself couldn’t tell whether she hated him for his stupid, laidback ‘tude, or wanted the equal freedom herself.

But thankfully, senior year is the last time Le hears of the boy for a little bit. He clearly didn’t set his sights on the business world, nor was his father a particular person of interest in the Jung’s sector either.

Until now, that is.

Shaking her head, Le sets an elbow on her grandeur mahogany desk and rests her face into the palm of her open hand. “Not well. Just the faintest memory of our school years, mother. He was a couple years my junior, if I may remind you.”

“Well, Harlow’s been building a name for himself in the medicine sector for some time now. But word just spread that he landed here a couple hours ago. And he’s looking for new ventures… What a proper young man; we were thinking he’d be a good husband, what do you think?”

#jung le #le jung #harlow lim #lim hanbin #summer waves

0 notes

wildflowertips · 2 years

Note

OKAY BUUT your amazing same girl (Kuroko) edit has got me inspired! What about a fic where Kagami & Aomine catch up as friends (idk but can they both be pro NBA) and it happens like in the edit!? Lolol I feel like that’d be hilarious

Messing with the same boy

☽ author's note: before you read, please know this fic is supposed to be taken lightly- a joke. Please don't be upset or read if you don't like your ship in these scenarios. In the past, I had people flood my asks with "this ship is better than that ship," "this character would never do that," etc., anyway, thank you anon for requesting! I think you are referring to this post, and ha! I love that you ask this!

☽ pairing: implied kagakuro & aokuro

☽ content warning: cursing/ bad language

☽ word count: 1.9 K words

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The flashing lights blinded Kagami as he made his way to the Cest Bon restaurant, where high-listed celebrities dine in Los Angeles.

"Who are you having dinner with, Taiga?" "Aomine Daiki? He arrived a few minutes before you!" "Tell us how you felt losing your last game!" "Are you having dinner with Daiki?" "Is this a date?"

"Just friends catching up," Kagami gave them a tight smile as his team led him through the crowd of paparazzi.

Answering the paps was a mistake as the paparazzi kept shouting questions at a faster rate.

"But you and Daiki have an ongoing rivalry!"

"Do you two get along outside of basketball?"

"What's your blood type?"

Even after Kagami's security team opened the doors to the restaurant and Kagami stepped inside, the paparazzi were at the door snapping pictures.

"Ah, Mr. Kagami," The french accent of the waiter was heavy. "Let me show you to your table. Mr. Aomine arrived a few minutes ago."

Kagami nodded and followed the man through the restaurant until they approached Aomine, who smirked when he saw Kagami, and Kagami grinned at his friend.

"This is your table," The waiter said, "Please, Mr. Kagami, Mr. Aomine, drinks are on us. Thank you for choosing Cest Bon tonight. A waitress will be there shortly to attend you."

"Thank you," Kagami gave a slight bow before he pulled out his seat and sat in front of Aomine.

"Thought you weren't gonna make it," Aomine took a sip from his wine glass.

Playfully rolling his eyes, Kagami replied. "I was like 10 minutes late, dude."

"Yeah, well, time is money, baby." Aomine winked. "But, I'll let it slide since I haven't seen you outside of games."

"God," Kagami groaned, closing his eyes. "Don't talk to me about games. My ego is taking a fucking beating."

"Yeah?" Aomine pushed his hair back and smugly smiled. "Heard you lost your last game. What happened there?"

Kagami shook his head. "It wasn't my day. I can't believe I lost to the Nets. The fucking Nets!" Kagami leaned on the table, closer to Aomine. "My team is giving me shit for it! But the fuck was I supposed to do when the Nets fucking three-man block me?"

Aomine laughed, "I know- saw the game. You're carrying your team. Not your fault; your team can't do anything without your assistance."

Kagami huffed out in amusement, "Right. You get it. You carry yours all the time."

"Oh yeah, most definitely, yeah." Aomine nodded, picking up his drink again. "They ain't shit without me. But hey, the Cavaliers pay me handsomely, so who am I to complain?"

Kagami was about to agree when a waitress walked up to their table.

"Good evening, I'm Elizabeth, and I'll be your waitress tonight." Both men turned their attention to the woman.

She was hot— dark-skinned, soft brown eyes, tall, with an hourglasses figure.

Unfortunately, both men were in a relationship of their own. Neither flirted with their waitress, and they ordered instead. And as much as the waitress eyed them, Kagami and Aomine didn't return the favor.

"Will that be all?" She gave them a friendly smile.

"Yeah," Aomine waved her off.

"And more wine, please," Kagami held up his glass. "Red, Pinot noir."

The waitress nodded, promising to be back in a few with their meals.

"She was cute, huh?" Kagami started the conversation. "I'm surprised you didn't hit on her."

"Why would I hit on her?" Aomine raised an eyebrow.

"Because she's exactly your type?"

"Nah."

"Really?" Kagami raised an unimpressed eyebrow. "She had big—" he motioned to his chest.

"Tits?" Aomine replied with a sly smile.

"Breasts." Kagami blushed at Aomine's choice of words, and he slightly narrowed his eyes. "She had big breasts."

"She did," Aomine agreed, "But I already got someone at home."

"Oh, for real?" Both of Kagami's eyebrows rose, and his eyes widened a bit.

"What— Don't look so surprised, asshole!" Aomine clicked his tongue. "I'm a good boyfriend."

"What's her name?"

This time, it was Aomine who turn was to blush. "It's a guy."

"Oh shit."

"Yeah," Aomine looked away, his cheeks hot.

The waitress came back with a bottle and their appetizers. After she left, Aomine quickly shoved a piece of shrimp in his mouth.

"Since we're talking about relationships," Kagami picked up his spinach roll-ups. "I—uh— also have a boyfriend."

"No shit," Aomine chuckled, "Would you look at that?"

"Who would've thought?"

"Not us," Aomine grabbed one of Kagami's spinach rolls. "We should do that couple shit and have a double date."

"Actually," Kagami covered his mouth with his hand as he tried to finish his roll. Once he swallowed, he said, "That's not a bad idea. I really wanna introduce you to this guy."

"Yeah?" Aomine said with his mouth full.

"Yeah, I think he might be the one." Kagami looked down, soft pink hues on his cheeks. "Like, I can see myself marrying him and starting a family."

Aomine softly smiled at his friend. "Well, tell me about him. I wanna know why he has you all whipped."

"Okay, but only if you do the same with your boyfriend." Kagami grumbled, "I wanna know how someone would willingly date you."

"Ha, ha, ha," Aomine joked, no harm in his glare towards Kagami. "But ight. I can also see myself marrying my current boyfriend."

"Okay, what do you wanna know?"

"Anything," Aomine smiled, "Look, he isn't even here, and you're already blushing like a teenager in love." He pointed at Kagami's blushing cheeks.

"Shut up!" Kagami covered his cheeks, "Okay, well, uh, he's so fine."

"Oh?" Aomine pressed for Kagami to go on.

"He's like 5'6," Kagami smiled fondly— as if he remembered a cute moment between him and his boyfriend. "He's got a nice built."

"Damn," Aomine thought about how his boyfriend is also the same height. What a coincidence.

"He used to play basketball back in high school, I think," Kagami grabbed a shrimp from Aomine's plate. "He's got the cutest smile and big blue eyes and light blue, soft hair ."

Aomine was beginning to find it freaky how his boyfriend also played basketball in high school, had a cute ass smile, big blue eyes, and light blue, soft hair. He couldn't count how many times he's run his hand through the soft strands.

"Oh, plus, he moved from Japan like a few months ago." Kagami threw the shrimp in his mouth.

"Wait a motherfucking minute," Aomine swore; his heart stopped beating for a second because his boyfriend had also moved from Japan to Los Angeles. "Wait a goddamn minute."

"What?" Kagami looked at him, confused.

The match-up from Kagami's boyfriend to Aomine's was eerily similar. There's no way his Tetsu would cheat on him, right?

It must be some weird coincidence. Right?

"Does..." Aomine's throat grew dry. "Does he have a dog?"

"Yeah," Kagami visibly shivered. "He loves that mutt."

Okay, don't panic. Anyone could have a dog. Aomine's heart began beating out of his chest.

Tetsu has a dog too.

"Loves vanilla milkshakes?"

Kagami looked taken aback. "How did you know?" He raised an eyebrow.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

"Does he got a beauty mark on his left hip?" Aomine felt sick as the realization was setting in.

"..."

"Went to Teiko Middle school?"

"...How—"

"Is your boyfriend a kindergarten teacher?!" Aomine tightly grips on the glass of wine.

Kagami looks at Aomine with confusion. "Do you know him or something?"

"Man, I can't believe this shit, damn." Aomine wanted to cry right then and there.

"What's wrong, dude? Why do you keep looking at me like that?" Kagami grew uncomfortable. "I'm your best friend, so just say what's on your mind."

"Fucking—" Aomine buried his face in his hands. "I didn't know you were talking about him."

"Do you know him or something?"

"Do I know him?" Aomine pulled away and let out a dry laugh. "Like the back of my fucking hand, Taiga."

"I'm not getting it." Despite saying that, Kagami looked at Aomine, horrified. Deep down, he didn't want it to be true.

Kuroko wouldn't cheat on me. He loves me.

"We're fucking the same guy!" Aomine covered his mouth with his hand and looked away, pained.

Kagami blinked.

"Kuroko Tetsuya?" He whispered.

"That's the fucking one!" Aomine snarled and looked around. No one seemed to notice his outburst. "That's the love of my life you described."

"We're fucking the same guy?"

"The same fucking guy," Aomine repeated.

Kagami and Aomine sat in silence for the next ten minutes. When their main dishes arrived, neither made a move to eat.

"Daiki, how did you two meet?" Kagami finally asked with a downcast.

"Meet him at a party Satsuki threw a few months ago when he first moved to LA." Aomine wasn't even hungry anymore. He wanted to confront Tetsu.

He wanted Tetsu to tell him that it was all a mix-up. That Tetsu has a secret twin, no one knows about.

"Well, I met him at a party Kise threw a few months ago when Kuroko first moved to LA." Kagami scratched the back of his ear. "I asked him if he had a boyfriend, and he said no."

"That's funny," Aomine glared at him. "Because Tetsu said the same to me."

Kagami nodded, not knowing what to say.

Please tell me this isn't true. That Kuroko, my love, is cheating on me— tell me it isn't true. Tell me that he's loyal to me, and only me.

"He told me I was the love of his life," Kagami deeply frowned.

Aomine scratched his head awkwardly. "Yeah, well, you ain't special, buddy."

Kagami played with his steak, poking it with his fork. "Damn, he told me I was the light to his—"

"Shadow?" Aomine finished Kagami's sentence.

"How did we not notice? Tetsuya's been at every single game I invited him to," rubbing his right eye tiredly, Kagami let out a deep sigh.

"He does have a low presence," Aomine pointed out. "It's easy for him to get under the radar."

"That cheeky little shit."

"How come I have never seen your name pop up on his phone, though?" Aomine looked up, complexed. "Surely, you two texted as much as we did."

"We texted and talked on the phone all the time," Kagami sadly smiled. "But, uh, I have no clue. I've never seen your name pop up on his phone either."

"Now, I wished I got my hands on his dark blue phone sooner."

"Dark blue?" Kagami looked uncomfortable, "He has a red phone."

"No, he's got a dark blue one," Aomine pulled out his light blue phone— the color of Kuroko's hair. "We have matching phones— his phone is dark blue because that's my color, and my phone is light blue because that's his color."

Kagami felt his eyes sting with tears. "That's really fucking hilarious." Kagami forced a laugh as he pulled out his phone and threw it onto the table.

It was a light blue color, just like Aomine's.

"We also have matching phones— his phone is red because that's my color, and mine is light blue because that's his color."

Both men didn't say a word after that.

They were trying to process the love of their lives, their potential husband, cheating on them with each other.

Neither wanted to say who was the side piece. One had to come before the other, right?

Their broken hearts would not be able to stand being the other man.

They had the worst dinner of their lives- eating in silence and avoiding eye contact with each other.

The paparazzi captures Aomine and Kagami leaving the restaurant together by the end of the night.

Neither of the men stopped to take pictures for the magazines or fans.

Instead, they walked away from the restaurant in opposite directions, neither turning back.

Kuroko Tetsuya managed to break the hearts of two all-star NBA players, and he had no clue about it.

#kuroko's out here living tho- hes out here living tho #✏️.. my writing #kuroko no basket #kuroko’s basketball #kuroko no basquet #kuroko tetsuya #kagakuro #kagami taiga #kagami x kuroko #knb kuroko #kuroko x kagami #knb kagami #aomine daiki #aomine x kuroko #aokuro #kuroko x aomine

60 notes · View notes

motownfiction · 1 year

Text

through the heart

Sam thinks a good song should stab you through the heart.

And to him, that’s not strictly a bad thing. Sometimes, getting stabbed through the heart is the best thing in the world, like when it’s Valentine’s Day, and Cupid shows up just in time to get you a date with your sweetheart. He smiles just thinking about it. He’s had some great Valentine’s Days over the years. He leans over the counter at the store and falls into them.

Valentine’s Day, 1984. He and Steph had been going steady for almost two whole years by then. It was a Tuesday, and Sam had nothing planned. Over the weekend, he’d been a little too focused on not failing his geometry test. The very real threat of summer school was looming over his head, so he figured he might as well take some time and teach himself how to master proofs. He got an A on the test, and instead of congratulating him, Mr. Altadonna was angry. It was one of those “If you can get an A on one test, why can’t you get A’s on them all?” things that Sam’s pretty sure he’ll hate for the rest of his life, even now, a long time away from school. Either way, when Sam turned up at school with no card, no flowers, and no chocolates for Steph, she acted like she was cool with it … but Sam knew better. Steph’s always been a great artist, but her artistic prowess has never extended to the theater. Sam ran out during lunch, bought her one of those heart-shaped chocolate boxes, and sat in the car with her until it was time to go back to class. Sam doesn’t really remember what they talked about – probably his geometry test – but he remembers how happy Steph was to chew on those cherry-centered chocolates. Whenever he hears “I’ll Be Around,” he thinks he can taste that artificial cherry center … and how perfect it was.

Valentine’s Day, 1992. Sam and Eddie had been together since July, and things between them got serious very quickly. That was the thing about dating Eddie. Nothing was ever just for fun. Everything had a purpose. Eddie loved organization, but on Valentine’s Day in 1992, it’s possible he loved Sam even more. He was a poor grad student then, still working on his dissertation proposal, but he took Sam to Joe Muer in the city, anyway – a whole year before Chuck Muer went missing on that boat, which in retrospect, makes Sam feel very small and very old at the same time. Sam remembers how the waiter looked at him funny when he turned down any and all liquors, but more than that, he remembers the way Eddie got indignant on his behalf. You’re gonna judge this man’s rum and Coke without the rum? he asked, and Sam remembers how easy it was to feel loved, to feel protected. He remembers the way they drove home singing along with “Dreams” on the radio … remembers what it was like to drive all over Detroit and feel like he was made of magic, too, just like Stevie.

It is now Valentine’s Day, 2000. Sam hasn’t really been with anybody since Hazel McCall moved away, a little more than a year ago. Apparently, being in love on the precipice of the new millennium was too much for Sam to ask. Today is Monday, so the store is open. They’ve had a steady stream of customers all day – some single people pretending like they didn’t know what day it was, some frantic boyfriends and husbands trying to remember what record they were supposed to get for their music lover at home, some couples treating the store like a destination (which, a little over a year ago, Sam would have found extremely charming). But it’s the end of the night now. Single people are at home, couples are at dinner, and Sam and Nashwa are at the store, getting ready to close.

“Is there anything I can do?” Nashwa asks. “You know, besides the usual.”

Sam looks up from his shoes and remembers where he is, what question Nashwa just asked him. He looks at her and nods.

“Yeah,” he says. “You can put on whatever record you want.”

Nashwa grins.

“Really?” she asks. “I get to pick the closing song?”

“Don’t act so surprised. I’ve let you do it before.”

“Yeah, but not on, like, a holiday.”

“Well, we’re not open most holidays. And I feel … like a bag of popcorn where only half the kernels popped, so I think you should pick the song. So, pick it.”

Nashwa makes an immediate dive for the record player (and the stack of records she’s been gathering since her shift began). She puts on something familiar, and Sam doesn’t mind. He thinks he needs familiarity tonight. Lord knows he won’t find it anywhere else.

You’re looking kinda lonely, girl / Would you like someone new to talk to?

Sam laughs.

“This is what you’ve been dying to listen to all night?” he asks. “Dr. Hook?”

Nashwa shrugs.

“I can’t help what I like,” she says.

“Hey, I don’t blame you. I kinda like this song, too. I always thought it would be fun to get into a bar fight to.”

“But you don’t drink.”

“True. That is not, however, a requirement for getting into a bar fight. Pretty sure I just have to be standing in a bar. And I can do that. As long as the bartender doesn’t make fun of me for taking my rum and Coke without rum.”

He smiles. He wonders what Eddie’s doing tonight … who is Eddie is with tonight. It’s been much too long since he’s asked Daniel about him.

Sam grabs a rag and wipes down the counter like he’s the bartender now. Dr. Hook plays on in the background. It’s almost surreal, but this is another one of those Valentine’s Days that he’s pretty sure he’ll remember. It’s another one of those songs that will keep on stabbing him through the heart.

(part of @nosebleedclub february challenge -- day xiv!)

#drabble #writeblr #ch: sam doyle #ch: steph armstrong #ch: eddie costa #ch: nashwa dawoud #ship: forever afternoon #ship: brown-eyed handsome man #year: 1984 #year: 1992 #year: 2000

4 notes · View notes

hannigramficrecs · 3 years

Text

Newly Added Fics 5/16

Hello everyone, sorry again for the slight hiatus! I’ve replied to all the messages in my inbox (at least the ones that were sent to me before this past friday), so if you asked me something before that, be sure to check out my replies!

As usual, I’ve emboldened the fics I really liked and italicized the ones that are incomplete.

Looks Like Love by luvkurai [words: 5,987] — (AU)

After his sister's wedding, Will kisses his childhood housekeeper (and first love).

Betrothed by slashyrogue [words: 3,932] — (AU)

In one month he would marry a total stranger.

Titan Arum by ProxyOne [words: 64,614] — (AU)

Will is a botanist, working in the greenhouse of the local Botanical Gardens. He is getting his life back on track after his divorce, but he can't help but notice someone who keeps coming back to his greenhouse to draw, day after day. A man who seems to have been paying very close attention to him...

Find Me In The Dark by Rising_Phoenix [words: 40,131] — (AU)

After a fateful accident, the marriage of Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter has reached its end. Grief and the inability to stop them from falling apart has brought an irreconcilable distance between the formerly deeply devoted couple. While Hannibal is apathetic towards his husband, ignores him, and is withdrawn, Will has started an affair with fellow teacher Francis and drowns his desperation in more and more alcohol.

Light of All Lights by whiskeyandspite [words: 20,377] — (AU)

Dracula-like fic without any of the vampires

The Stage Just For You by CarnivalMirai [words: 6,494] — (AU + Age Gap)

Will has landed himself the role of Odette for world-famous choreographer Hannibal Lecter's rendition of The Swan Lake.

There Will Be Bells by Entropyrose [words: 36,639] — (A/B/O)

In Georgian England, male omegas are very rare diamonds. Baron and Baroness Graham have a plan to build their wealth and social status by offering their son Will's hand in marriage to a mysterious older Duke, an Alpha named Lord Hannibal Lecter. Will's personal feelings need not apply.

Alpha Mart by slashyrogue [words: 63,164] — (A/B/O)

Will needs an alpha. After years of fake knots, half-assed suppressants, and his own damn hand during heats he’s reached the end of his rope. He doesn’t do dating so he decides to waste his life savings and hype with the current trend. Alpha Mart.

Enchanted By Your Name by CarnivalMirai [words: 9,207] — (A/B/O + PWP)

“Now, my husband would prefer it if I got the job done quickly.” He says, slashing down the back of each gag as he passes each man, watching as the silk falls gracefully to the floor. “However, I want to have some fun. Considering you’ve troubled my husband so much… it’s only fair, right?” One of the men whimpered fearfully. Or: The name "Will Graham" is a name you'll only ever hear once.

I've Been Building Black Ships by cloudsarefluffy [words: 8,116] — (A/B/O + AU)

Alpha Hannibal moves to the States with his sister Mischa after being overtly done with the fancy life of a count, and his blind omega neighbor gives him an insight into love that he never quite expected.

A Rare Find by hit_the_books [words: 5,379] — (A/B/O + AU)

Life as an omega bookseller can be quite lonely. However, as the owner of Graham’s Books, Will Graham is reasonably content. That is until he meets—long-time customer and crush—Doctor Hannibal Lecter in person for the first time. Attraction blossoming between them both, Will agrees to a dinner date with the good doctor.

We All Have a Hunger by 1ntothew1ld [words: 12,260] — (A/B/O + Age Gap)

Hannibal will ensure a properly slow and painful death for an alpha who allowed a beautiful young omega to go to waste as this one has. Too skinny for his own good, a stuttering and humble mess. The likes of the omega in front of him belonged at Opera houses and in million-dollar mansions, not scrounging for his next meal. Meek and afraid in some disheveled row house. When he finally looked back up the alpha had to conceal the utter punch to the stomach that meager glance was, blue eyes full of innocence but also hunger.

The Doctor Is In by Kummerspeck7 — (A/B/O + PWP)

Will nearly scoffed. "You can't expect me to believe you'd want anything other than a delicate flower to adorn your side, keep your ostentatious home, bare you the exact number of children you want--No more, no less-- all while being available at your whims." "Not at all." Hannibal disagreed. "I would no more put a wilting flower in my home than in a bouquet given as a gift. Tell me, Will, is that how you are treated? Forbidden from work, cloistered inside and used at Mr Brown's discretion?" "My Alpha's discretion." Hannibal looked pointedly at the curve of Will's neck, free from a single scar. "Not yet he isn't."

Teenage Wildlife by writtenbyizzy [words: 10,163] — (Age Gap + Sugar Daddy)

While reluctantly prowling Grindr for a sugar daddy to pay for his dog Bean's vet bills Will comes across Hannibal, and gets far more than he bargained for.

Just As Poised As I Remember by CarnivalMirai [words: 5,721] — (Age Gap + School)

When Will was in high school he had an incredibly handsome psychology teacher-- tall and sharp with a thick European accent. And now, a decade later, said psychology teacher-turned psychiatrist... just swiped right on him.

We Can Chase the Dark Together by K_R_Closson [words: 16,615] — (Fantasy)

Will tips him and Hannibal off the cliff. Instead of hitting the water, he wakes up in his bed, several years in the past. His first, and only, priority is to find Hannibal again.

We Killed a Dragon Last Night by inameitlater [words: 88,150] — (Fantasy)

Will remembers falling. He wakes up months before Jack got him to work for him. Months before he met Hannibal for the first time. Free from his past he decides to change events and meet Hannibal again.

My Only Constant Is You by TheSilverQueen [words: 25,369] — (Fantasy)

Hannibal Lecter is an immortal who can never die. Will Graham is a time traveler who can never stay in one place. Perhaps that is why they are perfect for each other.

Motinos Kalba by Lyla_Joy [words: 6,040] — (Fluff)

Five times Hannibal Lecter spoke Lithuanian on accident and one time he meant too.

You Make Me Feel (Good) by sourweather [words: 7,190] — (Fluff)

Will Graham has sensory issues. The world gets too loud, he gets overstimulated easily, but most of all he hates being touched. He never expected someone to work so hard to make him comfortable, to be so patient with him.

Pick Me Up by sourweather [words: 6,053] — (Fluff)

Will doesn't go to bars much. He doesn't end up needing a ride home much. But when he does get drunk, he always wants to ask Hannibal to pick him up.

Hard to Get by JSinister32 [words: 5,561] — (Jealousy)

Will and Hannibal had been broken up for six months. When confessions are made during a work function, can they find it within themselves to forgive?

Polar Opposites by Lyla_Joy [words: 19,513] — (Kidnapping)

“Says the cannibalistic serial killer who knocked me out and is now holding me hostage,” sassed Will. The Ripper didn’t smile but his eyes crinkled in the corner. “Please call me Hannibal.”

Fate Is A Keen-Eyed Hound by LydiaFearing [words: 5,890] — (Mischa)

Hannibal may be a successful, charming psychiatrist but Mischa worries that her brother is lonely so she gifts him a puppy. Hannibal reluctantly falls for his little dog but wants to get involved with time-consuming FBI work and not just anyone can be allowed to look after his pet. Luckily, Alana can recommend a boarding kennel in Wolf Trap.

The Significant Other: The Will and Hannibal Edition by house_of_lantis [words: 18,431] — (Murder Husbands)

After their terrible and abrupt break up, Will and Hannibal attempt to maneuver through their social circles, side step ongoing gossip, and deal with the fact that Will knows the truth of Hannibal. Through impossible odds, Will and Hannibal do find their way to each other again.

Dancing with the Beast by proser [words: 86,347] — (Murder Husbands)

In order to catch a mediocre serial killer, Will must pose as Hannibal's date for a series of pretentious social events. Hannibal is dramatic and jealous as ever, and Will is having a great time without the encephalitis. Of course, it's a love story.

Arriving at the Crossroads by HigherMagic [words: 7,558] — (Mpreg)

"You haven't been my psychiatrist for a long time," Will echoes. "But you've been my friend. You've helped me. With…" He gestures vaguely to his head. "When my brain was on fire. On consults. When it's dark and I need a guiding light." "It pleases me very greatly to be a source of comfort and reassurance for you, Will," Hannibal says. "I have wanted to be that for you, for a long time."

The Hanged Man by justhavesex [words: 13,076] — (Mpreg)

Will Graham had never wanted children before, but he had never considered it to be a consequence of his omegan brain not finding anyone worthy, but the moment he had met Hannibal Lecter he had been filled with want. In which a dinner party one-night stand results in a pregnancy that changes Will's entire life.

I Don't Even Like Lana Del Rey by perpetuallycaffeinated [words: 4,328] — (PWP)

The tension and low thrum of arousal were making Will speak impulsively. He knew this, but he’d just finished his drink. There was nothing he could use to stop the question, blunt and presumptuous and rude. “So, what, you’re my daddy?”

A Bad Combination In The Dark by perpetuallycaffeinated [words: 1,957] — (PWP)

When a nerve wracked Will Graham accidentally cuts his hand on Dr. Lecter's letter opener, things quickly get out of control.

The Best Bait by sourweather [words: 3,327] — (PWP)

Will is a good fisherman, he knows which bait to use for his catch. Will seduces Hannibal at a party by being sexy.

Whimsy by justheretoreadhannibalfics [words: 3,001] — (School)

Doctor Hannibal Lecter is standing in as a teacher while Professor Graham is out of town on a case. The students start to kind of like him, and become very invested in his love life.

Callipygian by ProxyOne [words: 2,260] — (Season 1)

Hannibal has a lot of sketches of Will, which he normally keeps safely away. One day though, Will shows up unexpectedly and Hannibal is caught unawares, and unprepared.

L'appel Du Vide by sourweather [words: 5,413] — (Season 1)

Will is hiding things from his coworkers. From himself. But Doctor Lecter knows.

Friends Don't Frame Friends: A Lesson for a Clueless Cannibal by LadyFelixTristis [words: 5,041] — (Season 1)

Ear? What ear? Will Graham doesn’t try to thwart Hannibal Lecter’s plans for him. He just does. By accident. And then on purpose.

For All My Pride, You Were the Fall of Me by nobetterlove [words: 13,212] — (Season 2)

After being released from the BSHCI, Will grabs the dogs he can't live without and leaves without a trace

Letters to God by CarnivalMirai [words: 4,698] — (Season 3+)

Will writes letters to Hannibal every day after his incarceration. But they never make it.

Blankets, Coffee Cups, and Christmas Morning by sourweather [words: 6,352] — (Season 3+)

Hannibal wants to enjoy the domesticity. The love, the closeness, the being Known. But something about his life with Will makes him want to lash out.

All These Fictionary Tales by ProxyOne [words: 18,492] — (Season 3+)

After the fall, Hannibal is presumed dead. Will has been declared dead. But Will isn't willing to believe that Hannibal would just abandon him like that

Seduction by BloodunderMoonlight [words: 7,086] — (Season 3+)

“For fuck’s sake, Hannibal.” Will glared at him, brimming with wrath he had only seen behind Will’s gun. He had no doubt Will would draw out a knife from beneath the duvet or pillows, but clearly words were enough to make him gobsmacked—“Are you a fucking virgin or monk? If all these can’t get you to bed then I don’t know what can.” Hannibal stood gaping at Will.

Blood, Cedar and Dog Hair by sourweather [words: 3,351] — (Season 3+)

Something terrible happens while Hannibal is in prison. Something he never prepared for.

Hidden Potential by sourweather [words: 20,789] — (Soulmates)

The first time you make eye contact with your soul mate, you see a vision of their greatest accomplishment. They call it your Peak. Unfortunately for Will Graham, his soul mate's Peak is a vision of blood and horror. Fortunately for Hannibal Lecter, his soul mate's is too.

Karoliai by slashyrogue [words: 4,577] — (Sugar Daddy)

Will works at a jewelry store. He has worked there for three months and sold less than any other person there. His boss tells him to sell something by the end of the day or he may not have a job tomorrow. If there was one thing Will hated more than having to talk people into buying jewelry they didn’t need, it was trying to do it two days before Valentine’s Day.

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal fanfiction #hannigram fanfiction #hannibal fic recs #hannigram fic recs #hannibal fanfic #hannigram fanfic #hannibal fic #hannigram fic #nbc hannibal #hannibal tv #will x hannibal #murder husbands #hannibal au #replies

185 notes · View notes

aenaxes-moved · 3 years

Text

soirée

[cody x gn!reader] sometimes, commander cody, diplomatic duties can be set aside. otherwise known as living, if only for a brief moment, with the golden boy.

warnings: none

w/c: 2.8k

a/n: i just think dancing with cody on a lakefront at sunset would be infinitely nice. and y/n is gender neutral! they could be read as more feminine coded because of their gown and heels but there are no explicit pronouns/gendered references.

"Have you ever danced for a gala, Cody?"

"I can't say I have, senator," Cody responds as the Theelin representatives pass by. Some tenuous balance of concern and mild amusement playing over the arch in his brow, he watches you lift the long hem of your gown to rub at your ankles.

"I would recommend you avoid it if possible," you say, grimacing when your fingers brush over a sure blister come dawn. "Nasty business, dancing."

Were he but a newly made acquaintance, as he had been when he had known you by name and Fox's fond regard alone, he would most certainly be on his highest guard. But after Obi-wan had very inconspicuously assigned him to your escort detail, placing you through a grand total of one assassination attempt and two stolen frigates, he allows himself a sort of relaxed regard that only comes by a bond forged in the belly of a ship under heavy fire.

Camaraderie, he had called it breathlessly as you wiped engine grease from your robes, collapsing against him after you had finally toggled the hyperdrive online.

Friendship, you had countered with the firm clack of your wrench on the helm. You recall with brilliant clarity that his hand had been warm when you had gripped it tight, illuminated the ghostly blue of the streaks of light flooding the viewport.

Comrades were bound to duty; friends, something much more. So he allows himself to stand back at pause to admire how the setting sun gleams over your skin, how your nose scrunches just slightly as you fuss at the sheer inconvenience of your heels, as if you are not as radiant in his eyes as the fading light sparkling and rippling over the water.

"Truly, an unfortunate part of the democratic process, y/n," Cody chuckles.

Without the presence of other senators to demand the formalities of titles and decorum, you watch his shoulders slacken from sharp attention as he calls you by your name. The cool neutrality of his gaze as a soldier softens into a warm amusement meant for a dear friend, and you are happy to bask in its glow despite the groaning ache in your feet.

"If I knew there would be this much dancing in politics, I would have listened to my mother and taken her speeder shop," you groan.

"And deprive the Senate of your voice?" Cody asks, and his smile, as discreet and small as it may be, is irresistible.

"You have to actually convince me, Cody."

"Fair enough. Then, deprive the 212nd of your acquaintance?"

You hum, your fingers suddenly still over your heels as he watches you genuinely contemplate his words.

"Just a bit closer," you prod, a playful gleam in your eye.

"I thought you said you didn't like 'fawning sycophancy,'" Cody snorts. "You and your politician language."

"I don't like groveling politicians. I won't turn down flattery if it is from you, my dear commander," you respond, unable to hide the bright smile high on your lips.

"Then, say you'd taken the speeder shop. Would you deprive me of your acquaintance?" Cody relents with a huff. It's nothing but a puff of breath exhaled soft, but it's a welcome sound close to the rich warmth of his laughter, the sound of the poorly concealed joy glimmering in his deep brown eyes.

"If you help me to a quiet place where I can simply sit for the rest of the evening, I might just tell you if that was enough," you tease, offering your hand to him with a haughty flourish as if you were the queen of Naboo herself and not a common voice of the people of Coruscant. Cody rolls his eyes, breaking into a brief grin that flashes over his expression as brilliant as the sun.

You're already in a bit of a secluded spot a few paces away from the swelling quartet music and bureaucratic chatter, giving you the space to break your level-headed courtesies and poke fun. But more than anything, you simply want time alone with the commander in all the impeccable neatness of his uniform dress. Besides, while you think you make quite a pair—the clean press of his formal whites and the shimmer silk of your ivory gown shimmering in the sunset—the old senatorial farts have little regard for the handsome soldier in your company (and it's, really, their loss).

"Are you suggesting I help you escape from your very important diplomatic duties?" Cody asks, a low gasp light on his lips. How many times have you played this game, knowing damn well that the both of you would much rather die in a firefight than sit through a foggy senator raising toasts? It's become close to second nature, now.

"I absolutely am, commander," you nod firmly. "As I always say, sometimes, commander Cody, diplomatic duties may be set aside. This is one of those dreadful times."

He rolls his eyes again, but this time, he takes your outstretched hand, complete with a low bow as he plays along with your theatrics. You rise, only to wobble on your heels, but Cody is there to gently grasp your arms, ever steady. The consternation that flashes over his eyes for a brief moment is deep, more than simple concern, and while you cannot exactly label what his expression betrays, it sets your heart fluttering in your throat all the same.

What Separatist arguments and militaristic rebukes could not rile in your unflappable calm on the Senate floor, Cody effortlessly awakes. It's his power, you think as you regain your footing. The man spun from gold.

"There's a place over the water by the back of the villa," you say, falling into step beside him as the din of the party recedes behind you. "I think we should find some peace and quiet there."

"So you already had an escape route planned out?" Cody laughs. "I guess you never needed a security detail in the first place."

"Well, 'needed' isn't exactly accurate. Maybe 'strongly preferred?'" you offer, and Cody laughs a bit brighter. It's funny, how you barely feel the ache in your feet as contentment blooms triumphant in your chest.

By the time you sneak past the serving droids, stifling soft laughter when you hide from a few stray representatives, the sun is a slim arc curved over the silvery waters of the lake. In the moments of approaching dusk, you stand far from the treaty talks and ulterior motives before an old gazebo, its curved arches heavy with flowering vines like verdant curtains awaiting your arrival.

You look to Cody with bright eyes and squeeze his hand.

"We only have a few minutes of light left," you say in a hushed, excited whisper as the the purpling darkness of night begins to chase the sunset light. With little but the soft lakefront winds breezing through the blooming pavilion arches, there is no need to whisper. But your time with the commander is a precious, fragile thing, so easily burst by the sudden arrival of your colleagues or his men. A whisper is only a savoring tribute to this rare moment. "Dance with me."

"I thought you said dancing was 'nasty business,'" Cody chuckles.

"With you, a dance is a pleasure," you say, the whispers of laughter on the tip of your tongue.

"All due respect, but this is the first time we've shared a dance y/n," Cody teases as you tug him to duck under the creeping trellis vines and onto the sun-kissed stone of the little pavilion. "What makes you so certain you'll enjoy this one?"

"Dancing at these," you wave your hand with a sigh, "little parties are nasty, only if by virtue of the other senators with whom I am obligated to dance. They see me as a rival or a signatory to be won over or fought, and dance is little but a means to an end. But with you..."

The words fall back on your tongue as Cody emerges from under the low-hanging leaves, immediately awash in the glimmering gold light of the sun. He is a kind of breathtaking awe in the cresting cold of dawn, chin held high and proud. But in the resplendence of the waning sun, as he tugs his gloves from his hands, he is the warm and steadfast comfort of home.

In his relaxed posture and soft, dark eyes lies the kind of beauty that you ascribe to an ancient sun rising from behind a waking planet. A star brimming with ageless wisdom and forgiving light, as the sunlight dances over the commander's even, tawny skin, he is nothing short of life breathed into pure gold.

"With you, even a dance can be something I hold dear," you finish as he catches your wide-eyed wonder with a wry smile.

"Very well, senator," he says, a smooth, diplomatic cadence that's sickly enough for you to laugh. He extends a hand to you with a flourish, and you relish in the pure joy. "May I have this honor?"

"With pleasure," you grin.

Although he claimed to never have danced, Cody fluidly assumes a regal sort of poise, moving your hand to his shoulder and settling his free hand light on the small of your back. You have seen him heft his brothers over his shoulder; you have seen him cast aside his blaster for raw strength; you have seen the firm hand he carries wherever he goes. And yet, he is gentler than ever as you step close and meet his eyes to share a smile.

With a soft inhale, you begin a simple waltz over the warm stone.

For the first few steps, there is form. You quietly nudge him to take your lead, step by step, and he is a diligent student as he follows. But where political waltzes have always kept rigid time, space between your chests and guarded caution to the orchestral suites, you quickly fall into something sweet, unhurried and soft as your steps become slow sways in the fading light.

Wordless, brimming with joy, you are free. Cody lifts your hand above your head, laughing with you as you tiptoe through a spin that gently flares your dress, and a few dizzying turns and careful dips later, you can't help but wonder if Cody's heart is racing as fast as your own.

Too enraptured by his steadfast composure (even with the warmth in his eyes), you do little to mask your surprise when Cody shifts his hand higher up your back and tugs you close, pressing you flush to his chest under the emerging starscape above.

Shock, then saccharine goodness, sweet on your tongue, floods you as you slip your hand from his. After a beat of hesitation, testing, careful, you slowly reach up and rest your arms over Cody's shoulders, waiting for the bashful regret to overtake you when he might gently let you down. (It's unbecoming of you, you think shamefully, no matter how closely you may regard him as a friend.)

But the rejection never comes.

Instead, as the sun slips below the lake horizon, Cody simply fixes you with a soft smile and clasps his hands behind your waist, pulling and keeping you close while he continues to sway with the lake breeze. He does not need to speak for you to know his presence bared to you, not as a soldier or as your guard, but as a humble man to bear witness to the starlight in your eyes.

Heart beating wildly in your throat, you press a bit farther, leaning forward to rest your head on his shoulder. You have all but stopped your lazy waltz, simply swaying in place with the cool night winds fast approaching. In the stillness, you feel the slow rise and fall of his chest against your ear, a steady, reassuring rhythm that quells the giddy excitement from your chest. Yet you still start when he lifts one hand from your waist to the nape of your neck, raising delightful shivers as he strokes his thumb over your skin.

"Cody," you murmur.

You are certain it is no mistake that when Cody turns towards your voice that he presses close, his lips ghosting over your brow. You are no stranger to his closeness in harrowing blaster battles and narrow escapes from certain death. But this is new, the tenuous gossamer of intimacy not yet shared, as you reach for him and he reaches back.

"Yes, cyar'ika?"

(Cyar'ika? You do not recognize the sound, but it floods heat over your cheeks all the same.)

"My answer. About whether it was enough to choose the Senate over the speeder shop," you begin, reveling in how close Cody stands, cradling you so close that you feel his soft breaths over your skin. "Sometimes I wonder if I would have been happier outside of the politics."

"I hear a 'but,'" Cody muses. But instead of any teasing bite to his words, there is only patience, fond and warm.

"But if I had stayed in the lower levels; if I had never come to the Senate, I would have never left the surface. I would have never come to call a jedi general a friend, nor would I have known your men. I would have never met you. And to meet someone like you..."

You pause, sighing deep as your heart begins to pound anew.

"It is beyond enough."

Upon your last word, you hold your breath close.

You had only intended this to be a part of your teasing game of lighthearted chase with the commander. What was meant to be a quick and breezy escape from the politics of gowns and frivolities (even if you could not deny your affections for the commander) has brought you here, wondering if your words might be a push too far. Truths they may be, but they open you to uncharted waters. And you tremble in the falling night at the vague possibilities and consequence.

"Cyar'ika." Cody's voice, still as the lake stretched behind you, rumbles above your ear. "Do you know what that means, y/n?"

You shake your head slowly against him, only to meet him with eyes wide in surprise when he gently takes your jaw in his hand and tugs you upright.

"It means," he says quietly, sliding his palm from your chin to your cheek. "Sweetheart."

You're too stunned to do anything but blink when you feel his lips on your forehead.

"Darling."

Another touch, this time, pressed to your cheek as your eyes slide shut. You wait, anticipating with blooming wonder the promise of more lingering on his tongue. But when he does not return, you open your eyes, and Cody is waiting for you, dark eyes and soft smile radiant even without the glow of the setting sun.

"Beloved," he says at last, and tips your chin to press one final, dizzyingly gentle kiss to your lips. He may not meet you in vivacious energy, but Cody holds you close, pressing unhurried, luxuriant touches over your skin as you hold tight. His touch is chaste, stolid restraint holding him to only slow, deliberate motions, but you savor every fleeting moment in the evening calm.

When you part, you open your eyes to dusk in its clear, cold darkness, bejeweling the lakefront with scatter of stars high above. Yet all you can see is Cody before you, his soft smile and beating heart glowing brighter than any constellation in the inky black of night, his own radiant sun, spun gold.

Enchanted, you reach one hand up from its place on his shoulder and slowly, trembling, touch one finger to the scar carved around his brow. And he knows that you mean nothing but adoration as you trace the dark ridge of his scar beneath his eye, then lower, over the proud line of his cheek to cradle his jaw in your palm.

"I am only a soldier," Cody murmurs, nuzzling close into your touch. "Cyar'ika," he calls, leaning close to kiss your cheek. "Will you have me all the same?"

The cooling wind rises across the water, brushing stray petals from the trellis vines as your gown flutters around your feet. You wonder if this is what it feels to fly through the aftermath of a supernova, the silence of what was and yet the promise of what might yet be, glittering dust and neon gas diffusing into the ever expanding possibility of the universe. You wonder if this is right where you were always meant to be, aching feet and politics and shared breaths with a simple man with eyes full of light and heart like the sun.

"Only if you will have me," you reply, and the smile that breaks over Cody's lips is brighter than any sunset light you have seen, golden and alive. "Cyar'ika."

#listen to l'autre valse d'amelie if you want to feel extra fuzzy #i think i never know how to properly tag my fics but that's okay #also because i am writing this absolutely plastered #but soft cody warm cody little ball of cody #cody x reader #commander cody x reader #the clone wars x reader #yaej.writes

136 notes · View notes

pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

He is My Home (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: Din’s going to have a nasty scar from the wound on his side, just like the ones you have, the ones you’re insecure about.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: light mentions of blood and injuries. mentions of birth. scars (none are explicitly from SH) are mentioned.

A/N: Fluffy Din can I get a hell yeah?? @binarydanvvers sent me this request and it’s absolutely precious so I’m really happy I got to write it. I hope y’all will love it too!!

Din Djarin’s body is defined by his scars, even if few or no other living beings have seen them.

The very first scar on Din’s body came from his birth. Vha Djarin’s baby came out happy and healthy, but an apprentice midwife with an unsteady hand nicked the child’s skin with her blade as she severed the umbilical cord. That’s where the small white line above his belly button comes from.

The other scars include various missions, combat as a young adult, some nearly mortal wounds. There’s a scar across the bridge of his nose from some mission where he was fighting for your little green son’s life. There’s a long line along his forearm from a slice due to an opponent’s blade, on the underside, where the beskar didn’t protect him.

Everything about Din is beautiful to you. Even his name is so beautiful to say- Din Djarin. It sounds like poetry in his mother tongue’s accent. You’ve married him, become his riduur. You see his face daily, the face he was so scared to show you.

Din had feared you’d find him ugly. That you’d think him unlovable, that his nose was too big and eyes too deep-set, his entire body and even his soul too scarred. It wasn’t until after your wedding, when you removed his helmet and cried in joy, that his fears were cast away. You pressed your forehead to his and cupped his face and genuinely told him that you couldn’t imagine a more beautiful man, a more handsome and wonderful Mandalorian behind that beskar.

That night was spent exploring each other’s bodies now that you had total and complete access to Din’s body. It wasn’t entirely sexual, though much of it was; you just felt his abs and his arms and his warm skin beneath yours, and he did the same to you.

Your life has been perfect for the past few months as Din’s riduur. You get to see his face every day, kiss the scar on the bridge of his beautiful nose. You have the privilege of rolling over in bed and seeing his sleeping face, his brow furrowed even in his sleep. You get to see his little green son squeal in excitement when he gets to see his daddy’s face, the way the three small green fingers of each hand grab at one stubbly cheek.

Din is equally as happy. Being with you allows him to be a human again; it allows him to be Din, not Mando. Your warm arms around him in the middle of the night stall the nightmares of the siege of his hometown and the kills he committed and the way the pile of Mando helmets looked in the corner of the covert.

Of course, practicality dictates Din still must work. As a bounty hunter’s riduur, your options are really either to be a bounty hunter too, or a stay at home buir to your little green son. As you have next to no fighting skills, you stuck with the role that introduced you to your husband in the first place: interplanetary nanny to your bug-eyed baby boy.

You enjoyed the pretend domesticity, but you also appreciated the charm of the fact that home is literally where you make it with the Razor Crest: on any planet, moon, or space station. Your home travels with you, your home is wherever the Crest is tonight.

Even before you found the Crest, Din has been your home. He’s your place and your person, ever since the first time someone threatened you and Din shot them dead where they stood and you stared for a second in utter terror they’d jerk back to life before running into his arms and burying your head in the skin between his helmet and his cape. And that’s when you realized that Din’s arms were your safe place, the one place nothing can hurt you. Not when Din is protecting you.

Tonight more than ever, you miss Din’s arms. He took a honeymoon phase of one or two bounties a month after your riduurok, to spend time with you and the child and your newly formed, legally Mandalorian family. Your aliit, your clan. All good things must come to an end, though, and Din was back into his hunting. It’s been a week without him. Your beskar ring feels cold on your finger tonight as you trace your hand over the etched mudhorn in the wedding band.

Your green baby is cuddled to your chest, snoozing happily with his mama. You press a kiss to his head, thinking about Din. The child’s father. The little creature radiates warmth and relaxation and hypnotically urges you to fall asleep alongside him. Rest, mama. And you do.

The next morning, you startle awake at the sound of beskar clanging against the metal of the ship. “Riduur?” You call out, sitting up excitedly.

“Hi,” he says weakly, and the tone sets panic into your body. You jump out of the bed to find Din kneeling next to the carbonite, a freshly sealed and still sublimating creature trapped in it.

Din clutches his side and you sink to your knees frantically. His orange gloves are covered with blood as one reaches to you. “Din,” you panic, unsure what to do for a moment. “I’m going to go get the medkit. You start undressing now, beskar off, clothes off,” you order him and get to your feet. You pull out a cot and pop it open. “Lay here and wait for me.”

You fly into a tizzy around the ship, grabbing the various things you need. Bacta, needles, bandages, the official medkit. Good. You return to his side, where he lies in his boxers and helmet. “Baby,” you coo gently and remove the helmet. “Just me, remember?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, dazed eyes looking up at you. His dark hair is drenched in his sweat, and there’s a trickle of blood from his lip.

You fly into action. “Bacta’s going in first, love. Going to jab it in, get ready.” He softly nods and makes a whimper as you stab the needle in, pushing down the plunger and emptying the syringe into his body.

He’s numb now. You wipe the wound and grab the cauterizer. “You might feel this, Din. It’s gonna be quick, I promise.” He doesn’t even respond, eyes shut. You use it and he twitches, his face cringing in pain.

“I know, I know. Doing so good, almost- there we go,” you sigh as the wound is finished cauterizing. “You did wonderfully, my warrior. Providing for us no matter the cost,” you tell him and press a soft kiss to his forehead.

You press a large gauze patch and bandage over his wound, to ensure it stays clean. “Okay, okay baby. You can sleep now. Did so good for me, my strong man,” you mumble, cupping his face.

“You did all the work,” he mutters, a soft smile on his face. The medication wipes him out into a deep sleep.

Bacta isn’t a miracle drug. It can’t save you from certain death, can’t reverse the growth of diseases that have already infiltrated. The miracle, really, behind Bacta, is how quickly it works. It heals wounds that would take weeks in days, and days in hours.

When Din wakes later, the cauterized wound has shrunken exponentially. He’s still got lots of bruises and nicks, but he’s better. There’s a familiar hum, the soft roar of hyperspace surrounding the Crest.

He sits up with minimal pain and looks around. There’s a soft light coming from the bunk, where you and the baby sleep. The light is for the child. He’s scared of too much dark; you’d learned that especially in the days where the hull would be coated in blackness in order for you and Din to kiss and touch and love. Your face is peaceful as you sleep, and Din looks at you with all of the love in his heart.

He stands, albeit slowly, and walks to the bunk with a jerking and awkward stance. He just wants you, your softness and warmth. It’s common that he’ll sneak into bed with you after a mission or piloting the ship, or simply because you took a nap and he just needed some sweetness in his day. You instinctually nuzzle into him, attracted to his warmth. The child follows suit, nestling between the two of you. His two favorite people in all of the galaxy, his buirs.

The three of you are at peace, in your home: with each other. You roll over as you notice the warm presence and a small smile graces your slowly waking face. “Mm, riduur. You were supposed to be on the cot,” you chuckle softly and press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Bacta fixed me up enough.”

“You’re gonna have a nasty scar,” you chuckle softly.

“I’ve got plenty of those already. What’s one more?” He asks, nudging your face with his nose.

It’s unbearably soft and warm. “Scars seem to be our problem,” you nod in agreement.

He pulls away and looks at you, in the soft blue glow of the baby’s nightlight. “Cyare, scars aren’t a problem. They’re reminders, of everything we’ve been through and will prevail through in the future.” He kisses your collarbone softly, setting your child aside.

You frown. “Doesn’t mean I like them. They’re gross.”

Din’s frown matches yours. It’s a warm night in the Crest, leaving you sleeping in just a breastband and a pair of shorts. He can see the scars littering your abdomen, the ones you’re so insecure about. “Tell me about them.”

“Din,” you pout.

“We are one when together, we are one when parted,” he mumbles, scooting down to press a kiss to one scar. Your wedding vows, the ones you took and meant with all of your soul. “Your pain is mine, my love. Tell me about this one,” he says, a featherlight fingertip tracing the line.

You sigh, making your abdomen inflate and deflate deeply beneath him. “I was 11 cycles old when I got that one. My appendix ruptured, they had to remove it.”

He nods and kisses along the scar, big brown eyes looking up at you. “I see. And this one?” He asks.

You chuckle softly. “This is from when I was stupid enough to sleep in just a breastband and shorts, like this, and I rolled over on green bean and his claw stabbed me.”

Din recalls. He chuckles happily at the memory and presses a kiss to the scar, his fingers still tracing the last one. There’s one on your knuckles. He takes your hand and traces it, looking at you. Silently asking.

“Lothcat bite. They’re not as cute and docile as they look,” you nod as Din’s lips ghost over your fingers.

You think about the places you got those childhood scars. All at home. The newer one? From your newer home. Yes, your old home may have scarred you, most certainly physically and maybe mentally or emotionally, but they left their mark on you. Your eyes water as you look down at Din. “Your turn,” you tell him and push him down into the mattress of the bunk.

There’s been one you’ve always meant to ask him about. You straddle his hips and sit between his groin and his navel. “What is this one?” You ask of a little mark above his navel. It’s a stark white, contrasting his skin.

“My birth. A midwife nicked me while severing the umbilical cord. I’ve heard that my mother was ready to take the surgical tools herself and go after her,” he chuckles.

You smile softly. There’s a scar on his cheek and your fingertips slowly draw the outline of it. He nods. “As a teen, obviously. Before the helmets went on. Close call with a spear,” he admits, a soft smile on his face. “Those are the only fun ones. The rest are from bounties,” he admits.

You chuckle softly. “Fun ones?” You tease.

“Interesting, I suppose,” he admits, taking your fingertips from his scar to rest them on his lips, kissing them then just holding your hand. “Do you see, my love?” He asks.

You simply nod, eyes watering again. Din reaches up and wraps you in his arms, lowering you to lie chest to chest on top of him. “You are so beautiful, my love. My riduur,” he mumbles to you. You sigh contentedly and kiss the scar on the bridge of his nose.

“Easy for you to say. You’re a bounty hunter. These all suit you. Besides the fact that you’re already covered head to toe in beskar, it would just work.”

He frowns. “Cyar’ika. Neither I nor anyone else cares about your scars. They’re part of you; how could I?”

You whimper and bury your head in his neck, allowing yourself to cry. “It’s been a hard day, Din. Please let me have this.”

“I will not. I absolutely refuse to let you think like that,” he tells you and cradles your head. “You can cry all you’d like, riduur, but it won’t change the fact that I find the scars absolutely beautiful. They’re so perfectly you. They’ve made you who you are, the woman I love so dearly. How could they be ugly when they’re made of you?”

His words make you cry harder, and you sob into his bare skin. He strokes your back, allowing you to cry it out. He mumbles sweet words in your ear; just letting it happen.

When you’re finished, you lift your head with a sniffle. “I love you so much, Din. You make me feel like I have a home with you.”

He kisses your forehead softly. “This is your home, my love. Right hear, in my arms, wrapped up with me.”

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @softly-sad @blo0dangel @luxurybeskar @binarydanvvers @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #mando x reader #mando #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pascalpanic

239 notes · View notes

the-second-tonks · 3 years

Text

The Dark Past | E.P

Part : 1 of the series

Warnings : Arranged marriage , awkward moments (not so awkward lol) , thunder and lightning , changing POV's , short span time skip , anything else?

Pairing : Edmund Pevensie x fem!reader , Lucy Pevensie x fem!reader (platonic)

Summary : After an alliance marriage with King Edmund , y/n begins the new chapter of her life only to be welcomed by her worst fears - thunder and lightning . But the thing to be noted was the fearless princess- y/n had a fear as such ..

Age : Edmund is 18 , reader is 17. (Golden age)

-----------

Reader's pov

I sat next to my husband , King Edmund , as we waited for the reception to end . Yes , marriage reception . I and King Edmund were trapped together in an arranged marriage . It wasn't that we weren't given time to talk and make things less awkward , but maybe we didn't utilise it . He was too quiet to talk , and I was too stubborn. How could I help , I didn't want to get married ! I kept fidgeting with my fingers , a sign that I was nervous as hell and uncomfortable , as me and King Edmund sat too close . Our knees kept brushing , sending waves of currents down my spine . I wanted this to end soon but as much as I wished it to end early , it kept on delaying . Till now , Lucy had helped me a lot . She was the only one I was comfortable with till now . The dress I was wearing made me feel itchy , but I couldn't care less . I decided to get lost in my thoughts about my past as a princess . I had dreams , ambitions and I was determined to fulfill them . People called me the fearless . But alas , life had different plans . Instead of learning advanced swordfighting , I was married to Narnia's best swordsman himself . Instead of letting me wear shirts and harem pants like I did since childhood , I was made wear long gowns and dresses . Instead of having my independence , I was made follow rules and traditions . Instead of letting me use my excellent resourcefulness to plan battles , I was married to a king who is better than me and won't even need my help in plannings . Instead of letting me speak as I used to , I was made shut so as to maintain my kingdom's reputation in Narnia and ofcourse in front of my oh-so beloved husband . It was all too much to control inside and I was shocked by my abilities to supress my anger , annoyance and rebellions so much . I just continued to sit there with a poker face and occasionally smile . I was looking around , just to spot my in-laws looking so happy , or maybe there were amazing in pretending (with the help of trainings ofcourse) or they were genuinely happy . Every narnian was enjoying themselves , but I liked the Narnians . They were very warm and welcoming .

Time skip**

Now , the complete hall was almost empty , except for the castle workers , who were cleaning everywhere . My back ached from sitting for so long , but I was more than eager to get up and get some sleep so to as to escape the reality for a while . I got up immediately , the warmth from king Edmund's body immediately got longed for- wait , wat?! No no no , u shouldn't be thinking this y/n . I shrugged the thought away quickly , and soon felt someone beside me . Ofcourse , king Edmund . As much as I sounded creepy , I wanted to hear the handsome man's voice . He had spoken to a few narnians but that wasn't enough to memorize his deep , alluring voice . He carefully kept a hand on my back , urging me to move . I kept walking with him behind me until Lucy came into my view . I turned to look at King Edmund and , for the first time , I spoke to him "King Edmund , if u would excuse me , I wanted to have a little talk with lucy .." I added as much politeness as I could , despite my sour mood. He looked shocked for a second , but soon recovered . He opened his mouth to speak something , and I waited for it , but it never came. He simply nodded and walked away . It caused my heart to clench a bit , but I pushed the feeling away and approached my only friend (well , I know she's my in-law , yet ) and saviour , Lucy Pevensie .

As soon as I approached the girl wearing a cute floral gown , she turned in my direction , smiled at me . She politely excused herself from the castle workersshe was talking and came to me . "How was it??" She asked , excited about who-knew-what. " What are u talking about Lucy?" I asked her , confused . " Oh come on , me , susan and Peter kept all the guests away from u for a reason . Don't tell me u didn't talk with Edmund !" She spoke . I slowly let my head fall , biting my lower lip , looking at the floor . She sighed sadly and spoke "U are a perfect match for my brother . I shipped u with him from the beginning , but u have to talk with him , y/n. U remember u came across as shy in front of me too , but see it now , u are the more talkative one . U have to get comfortable with him so as to let him know that u are shy at first but then , u talk non-stop.." lucy lectured . I smiled a bit at it and spoke with a grin "Sure , ma'am , I'll try my best !" I and lucy ended up laughing a bit , but she spoke "I was a bit serious by the way " . I nodded a bit and spoke "Yeah , u are ryt lucy , but it's just the first day . I'll try my best from tomorrow . " She smiled at me . I bid her a good night and saw her walk away and into her room .I'll remember the way to her room , i noted it and turned around to see king Edmund looking outside the window , the slight cool breeze making his dark brown hair fly out of his forehead . His choclate brown eyes shone with the beauty that Narnia reflected. His palms clutching the pane tightly. He was so concerntrated that he didn't notice me approaching him . I had to clear my throat to bring him out of his daze . His head shot in my direction and he smiled a bit , leading me to his room-our room.

As soon as I entered his room , I felt homely . I was so glad to see that his room was clean and super organized . I liked it that way . I smiled . Maybe the room won't be that bad to stay in , I thought . The room had a small desk and chair , piles of papers neatly kept on it . A big size bed , a few windows and a big balcony , curtains flying due to the slight breeze . The room was dimly lit since the light from the windows wasn't enough due to the cloudy weather .

Time skip**

After changing , I was about to sleep on the bed when I saw king Edmund picking up one of the pillows and going somewhere . While his back faced me , I knew what he was doing but decided to question him to stop him "Where are u headed to , my king?" I asked adding my king as my mother had taught me to . He turned around almost instantly and spoke "To the couch , Princess " he spoke in an obvious tone , ofcourse it was a stupid question . I knew king Edmund was highly sarcastic (info credits to Lucy) and I appreciated his attempt of answering me with the least sarcasm . "No .. don't ." I spoke but instantly regretted . He looked wide eyed at me , a blush could be seen on his cheeks despite the dark . An awkward silence settled , but I cut it , speaking "The bed is quite big for the two of us to sleep " I said . "At a comfortable distance " I added it immediately. He nodded , understanding my proposal .

Time skip**

I laid on my right side , facing the end of the bed . Edmund was facing the other side , maybe asleep by now. My eyes started dropping due to tiredness but before I cud fall into sleep , a loud crashing sound jolted thru the room . My eyes went wide with fear as blue light stuck out in the sky . Lightening and Thundering . I hated it , hated every bit of it . I always used to clutch onto my mother and later my sister whenever it was thundering or lightening . I never knew that , in Narnia , thunders and lightening was far more worse than it was in my kingdom . But now, I had nothing except the blanket to clutch on . Tears started pooling my eyes as another sound rang thru the room causing my eyes to go numb for a second . I cupped my lips to not let a yelp escape . I didn't want to wake King Edmund . He would definitely think this was a stupid fear , because it was . I didn't know why , but the thunder had always terrified me . It was one of my worst fears . I had to go somewhere , had to hold on to someone before I start to cry . I slowly got up , shocked at my bravery , but sneaked out of the room (thanks to my trainer who taught me sneaking techniques for emergency situations) . The thunder sounds causing my heart to stop for a mere second , pushing me a step next to crying . There were only the gaurds in the passageway and I was thankful for it . I ran to Lucy's room , happy that I remembered where her room was . As much as I knew , she wouldn't judge me .

Time skip**

Lucy's pov

After y/n had come running to my room , I let her sleep with me . I was sad to know that she had to face one of her worst fears during the time where she was away from her loved ones. As she held my hand , she was asleep . But I couldn't sleep yet . Edmund should've been the one to comfort her . I have to bring both of them close to each other . But just to wonder , quite curious to know why she , the fearless , was scared of thunder and lightning . Maybe , there was a past that I was yet to know about her ..

Part 2!

#edmund pevensie #king edmund #arranged marriage fic #arranged marriage trope #arranged marriage tw #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #golden age arc #narnia fic #narnia fandom #narnia fanfiction #fanfic #lucy pevensie #peter pevensie #queen susan the gentle #susan pevensie #king edmund the just #only one bed

78 notes · View notes

pedropascalssimp · 3 years

Text

Grumpy

Boba fett x fem reader

Summary: boba is a grumpy man but we love him... Also for a real summary: the reader is annoying, always talking and being a goofy person. And boba only tolerates it because he loves her.

Warnings: slight language I think? Slight jealous boba, he's also a bit insecure in this one. Fluff, FLUFF.

Pic credit to @xxrosaaa29xx I'm using your pic for scientific research purposes 👀

Also dala means "woman" in mando'a incase whoever reads this didn't know and found themselves in confusion like I do most times....

I know I also said I'd write for din more but, c'mon! My bestest friend ever here inspired me to write this!

Thank you my amazingly beautiful friend @friendscall-me-mom this was spurred on because you 👀

Boba was a busy man, he couldn't seem to hold still for more then two minutes. He always had something keeping him busy or somewhere to be, but that's the way he liked it. So ever since boba claimed the throne that once belonged to jabba the hut and later jabba's companion Bib Fortuna, boba found himself almost never leaving the palace, it was relaxing yes, a nice relaxing thing actually, but also a little too... Uneventful for his liking. So after leaving Fennec in charge over the palace, someone he knew he could trust, he brought you along with him to venture away from tatooine to accompany him on his first bounty hunt in almost six years.

When he had gruffly asked you to join him, it left you baffled. You thought he'd enjoy a nice time away from you considering he always spoke of how annoying you are, he always ignores you are tries putting a distance between the two of you. In your eye's he hated you, his actions displaying such. But in all honesty? Boba fett found himself attracted to you, his brown eyes always glued to you when you walked into the room, gaze unable to leave your figure for a second. His heart always doing the annoying flip it does whenever he hears your laugh or catches a glimpse of that beautiful smile adorning your face.

He pushed you away because he didn't know how to love you like you deserved, you was always so... Happy, bubbly personality and jokes putting a smile on everyone's face. He was afraid that if he let you love him, his usual grumpy and hardened personality would dent your chirpy one. So... He pushed you away.

But you didn't ever see the adoring looks he gave you, or the faint tug of his lips when you told a joke. All of those things went unnoticed by you, partly because the helmet he wore and the fact he always hid his emotions well. Something you found infuriating. But despite that, and his constant grumpy behavior towards you, you found yourself intrigued by the man, you couldn’t deny he was a handsome man. Dark eye's that seemed to sparkle whenever the light hit them just right. And although his words was always short, sometimes even harsh on the more stressful days for him, you found yourself hanging on to every word he spoke, his voice intoxicating, beautiful. You scolded yourself many times for falling in love with boba fett, but then again how could you not have? When he showed you rare moments of kindness - especially when you had both met on tython, you having permission from your friend din to stay with boba. Because din saw how you looked at boba, he knew you was in love with him.

But damn was boba oblivious, or either he knew you was smitten with him and just hid it well. Whatever the case, you was slightly hurt by the fact he always found a way to either distance himself from you are push you away.

Slave I was quite, boba sitting in the co-pilot seat while you let your mind roam freely to dwelling thoughts. But you let out a little laugh, the sound drawing boba's attention as he tilts his helmet in your direction.

"what's funny dala?" he asked, speaking mando'a, a nickname you've learnt well. He often enjoyed using it in a mocking manner though, it usually rolled off his tongue whenever he was annoyed or like said, mocking someone, aka, you.

You shrug, a grin on your lips. The reason you was amused though, was today's previous events played on your mind. You and boba had both stopped by a cantina on Batuu, only stopping their for fual and a bite to eat. Because you wouldn't shut up until boba finally gave in and took you somewhere to eat. And as you was both enjoying a meal, boba choosing a nice empty booth in the dark corner as he took his helmet off. A man had been flirting with you, it was harmless really, a few compliments on your beauty and a few hints of how the man genuinely wanted to get to know you better. Although he seemed nice you didn't really want to speak with him, so let him down easy.

But boba was, for some odd reason to you, pissed off with the man's constant talking. He didn't like how his eyes roamed your body, didn't like how you indulged him, and he really didn't like how he talked to you, using those flirty little comments and jokes, coaxing a laugh or two from you. Boba hated it, he was fuming. So without hesitation, boba threatened the poor man's life with a cold hard stare causing the man to flee the whole planet with fright.

Although you was slightly mad at boba in the moment, you found it hilarious now. Letting out another laugh you try and cover your mouth, stifling the laugh. "what is it?" he seemed genuinely curious but his words came out bitter.

"you scared that poor man to death boba... He literally left Batuu because of one simple glare and a few threats!" you laughed, grabbing your side because of how hard you was laughing now. "di - did you see his face!" you wheeze out through laughter, "he almost pissed his pants!" you shake your head and your laughter dies down.

Boba, unknowingly to you, had a smile on his face, Almost prideful. He focuses his attention on you now, loving the sight of your wide smile now. He had thought he angered you with how he scared the man off, he thought you was actually attracted to the other man. But seeing you laughing about the situation put him at ease, you wasn't mad at him.

"I thought he was bothering you, he was surely bothering me with his jabbering" boba tried to brush the topic off. He felt slightly annoyed he was jealous over the fact the man had made you smile and laugh. And the man was younger, his face not as scarred or aged as boba's. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt a little insecure when around you, why would you want him when the galaxy had so much more out there for you?

"oh he wasn't jabbering, he was being nice... But you scared him enough to flee the planet" you giggle, amused by the situation.

He only grunts in response, one of many signs he was in a grumby mood. You flicker your eyes down at his side, the side his beskar failed to cover.... Grinning you reach over and poke him.

"stop being grumpy" you muttered playfully, his visor snapping in your direction before falling down to look at where you kept your hand, ready to puke him again.

"I'm not grumpy princess" he harshly grunts out while taking your hand in his and throwing your hand back into your lap. "don't touch me..." he muttered. He may have came off as angry, but under the helmet he was flustered, your touch sending a delightful warmth spreading all over him, turning his face red.

Your smile filters for a moment, thinking you may have infuriated him. The sight makes him guilty until he sees you grin again. "you have to be ticklish, everyone is. I'm now making it my goal to find you're ticklish spot!" you declare cheerfully. Boba shaking his head.

"I'm not ticklish. let me be dala" he spoke while putting the ship on autopilot as he went into hyperspace. Standing up he leaves the cockpit, you following him. He walks into the cargo area, plopping down on a crate as he takes his helmet off, usual stoic expression on his face as he cleans his helmet off. A act he does out of boredom you've grown to discover.

"not ticklish eh? So you won't mind..." you sit beside him making him go stiff visibly, his hand freezing as he wiped the visor off. "this!" you slither your hand on the spot between his neck and shoulder and start tickling, but he does even smile, much to your dismay.

"please stop" he deadpanned. And you do so with a huff. "I'm not ticklish so stop" he continued wiping his helmet off.

You sigh deeply and cross your arms. "I've never seen you smile nor laugh, If I can't find you're ticklish spot then I'll tell you joke's!" you state, his face slowly morphs into one of annoyance.

"please don't... I left tatooine for two reasons: peace and to be able stretch my legs for a bit" he said while looking up at you, his dark eye's capturing you for a bit.

"then why did you invite me to join you? You know I annoy you with my presence" you say, arms crossed.

He invited you because he knew how men eyed you on tatooine with hunger, with a undeniable look of lust. He hated it, wanted to rip all their eyes out for doing so. He knew that if he left any man could waltz up to you and flirt their way into your heart. So he brought you with him because he'd be damned if he left you on tatooine, he never wanted to leave your side.

"because I knew that if I didn't you wouldn't shut up, I've heard how you wanted to leave the place for a little vacation as you put it and I had already planned on hunting so... I invited you" he muttered, blowing on the visor to ensure its clean before sitting it aside, now cleaning his blaster. It wasn't a lie, he heard you telling Fennec how you wished to escape the sands and scorching hot heat for at least a little bit.

Your heart swells at his words, to anyone it was nothing. to you... It was his way of showing affection. He knew you wanted a vacation so he took you with him, if you didn't know any better you'd say he even planned this hunt because that. But that was wishful thinking.

"did I ever I tell you the story of how Mando got zapped by those jawa's?" you snicker, knowing that would at least make him smile. But he nods, confirming you have.

"more then once mesh'la" he didn't mean to let that one simple word slip from his mouth, but it did, and from the beaming smile and small blush on your cheeks, he knew you knew what it meant.

"oh you think I'm beautiful now?" you tease, seeing the way he tensed up whenever the word rolled off his tongue, you knew that you turning it into playful banter would ease away whatever it was that made him tense like that.

"shut up girl" he grumbled while standing up, you doing so making him huff. "don't follow me around like a damn lost child!" he snaps, taking you aback slightly. But you shrug his words off, although they did hit pretty hard.

He saw that and grumbled something before continuing whatever it was he was doing. "what if I don't wanna stop!" you say with a giggle, following him to the poor excuse for a bed he used.

"then I guess I'm gonna have to face the fact you're goal and life purpose is to annoy me" he said, sitting on the bed, slowly stripping the beskar off piece by piece. You could only watch as his soft shirt he wore under it exposed the softness of him, his tummy practically begging for you to reach out and tickle it -

You grin at the thought his tummy would be ticklish, it was a mischievous glint in your eye that alarmed him. "oh no" he muttered as you grin at him and flop down beside him on his bed.

"admit it boba, you enjoy my company" you sigh with a big smile, his scoff only making you giggle. He opens his mouth to respond but whatever he wanted to say was forgotten the moment you tickle his belly, soft and adorable like you always thought it would be.

His eye's widen as he finds himself laughing, a smile on his face. He falls backwards on the bed as you crawl on top of him, straddling him as you continue tickling his belly as your heart flutters at the sight of his smile and sound of his gruff laughter.

"you do have a ticklish spot!" you laugh, his large hands resting on your hips as he flips you over, now he was hovering over you.

"you are relentless" he mused, his smile now gone and replaced back with his grumpy expression. "don't ever do that again mesh'la" he grumbled. But he couldn't deny how being so Close to you makes his desire to kiss you grow strong. Once he catches

"oh Stop being grumpy, it’s lame." you tease him, cheeky smile. He shakes his with a huff.

"You're an idiot" he retorts while rolling off of you, much to your dismay. He sits up and back in the position he was once in. You sit up beside him.

"but you love me" you said it before you could register what exactly fell off your tongue. Boba seemed to freeze beside you, making fear settle deep within your very core. "I - I didn't mean - like -

Your stuttering was shushed by the smile boba gave you, it was soft, didn't quite reach his eye's but it was still genuine. "unfortunately dala I do..." he didn't look you in the eye, instead, his cheeks starting to turn a little pink as he fiddle with a piece of his armor he picked up off the floor, he didn't want to see you possibly reject him, he didn't want to see your face when you laugh at him for confessing such a thing.

But maker was he surprised when you scooted closer and gently cup his cheek making him look at you, the genuine soft smile on your face different from the cheeky ones or mischievous ones you'd always offer the bounty hunter.

"do you mean it?" you ask him, voice barely above a whisper as your eyes search his dark brown ones for the answer, and you saw it, swimming amongst the endless brown hues of his eyes. A truthful, raw emotion besides being angry he showed you, displaying it before your very eyes. Love, adoration, truth....

"I have loved you since the moment I saw you, although I'll have to admit I thought you and you're mandalorian friend was already a couple. That's why I hesitated to talk to you so much" boba confessed, a smile beaming on your face as your eyes glow with joy. Your thumb subconsciously stroking one of many scars on his face.

"likewise, I've never seen someone quite as handsome as you before, nor as intriguing" his snort of amusement made you give him a confused look, wondering what he found funny.

"oh so you find me intriguing?" he smugly replied causing you to roll your eye's. Your free hand that wasn't holding his face, fell to his soft tummy. He tenses up and gives you a warning look. "don't" he muttered.

But you only grin at him, "why not? If you want to laugh at me I'll give you something to laugh at" you slip a hand up his shirt, his warm skin soft. Your touch had his heart doing a flip, if not for the fact he knew you planned on tickling him, he'd find this soothing.

"I wasn't laughing, just simply asking a question"

"after you let out a little laugh" you point out, he shakes his head ready to protest, but you had already begun your assault, tickling his belly. Practically in his lap again as he fell back.

You both knew that if he really wanted, he could stop you easily. But hearing his thunderous laugh echo across the ship and seeing his beautiful smile? It made you beam with happiness, a sight boba couldn't get enough of.

Needless to say, after the hunt you and boba has shared a kiss, slept in his arms every night as he claimed you as his. When you both arrived back on tatooine and into the palace you called home, Fennec had seen how boba had became extra protective over you, seeing how he couldn't seem to leave your side. She knew the hunt brought you both together, it was a relief, now she didn't have to see you both dance around your feelings for each other.

_________________________________________

#pedro pascal #the mandalorian #din djarin #star wars #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal imagine #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #baby yoda #mando x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #boba fett x y/n #boba fett imagine #boba fett x reader #boba fett

223 notes · View notes

honestlyfrance · 3 years

Text

the sweetest tragedy

ship: sam/bucky

warning: mcd, my poetic ass once again, angst, hurt/comfort

summary:

"I love art," Sam had signed in ASL, his hands moving enthusiastically as Bucky held onto every word, and it's a tragedy really, when the brown in Sam's eyes had a glint of yellow in them when the sunset settled in them beautifully. "I'm a tour guide actually. Studied it all my life."

Bucky had nodded, his grin almost contagious as he watched the light from the plane window outline Sam's features as if a mosaic. "Do you make art yourself?" He spoke carefully, and his ASL was wonky at best, but Sam appreciated every move of his fingers and lips.

Sam smiled, mouthing, "I wish."

Sam Wilson is in love with art and a sergeant named Bucky Barnes.

—■—■—

It's a goddamn tragedy, it's what it is. You love him but he's leaving, high on euphoria with a rank under his name, you're going to lose him in every universe and there's nothing you could do about it.

There's a sadness in Sam Wilson's hand as his fingers lightly tap against the skin of his lover, Bucky Barnes, and it was as if they were back at the airport where they first met, nervous and casual, a piece of kindness couldn't have turned itself into a tragedy overnight.

It was waiting for the next flight that they just so happened to have the same plane heading to Paris from England. Bucky said he was running away. Sam wanted to ask, From what? Bucky said he was going to be in Paris to breathe. Sam wanted to ask, What's choking you?

It was a small thing, as they sat together on the plane. The flight wasn't that long — just a mere one hour and thirty minutes, but, oh God, Sam felt like it was centuries talking to the handsome man. With a sharp jawline like that and eyes of absolute blue, Bucky listened to Sam joking about how he'd be perfect for a portrait, and it made his tummy flip, butterflies bursting at the seams of his stomach.

Sam smiled, mouthing, "I wish."

"Now, stars, I believe in. I'll wish on one for you. Never failed me once." And Bucky's smile wasn't supposed to burn like this, but it did.

Sam's breathing hitched as he eyed the piece of work in front of him, a gorgeous piece by Géricault, The Raft Of Medusa, but his eyes weren't truly eyeing the rawness of the form, the depiction of survival, or the art techniques behind it. Sam thinks of the time he held the stars in his hands, and he couldn't feel the warmth of them now.

The whole place was silent but Sam could hear the beating of Bucky's heart, and it terrified him, how loudly love could actually be. Sam never thought he could have such mercy, then again, he didn't think Van Gogh's Starry Night could mean so much to him than before.

"I love Starry Night, I think," Bucky had spoken in French, and his ASL had gotten better. The piece was right before them, and Sam takes a moment to breathe in the moment. "Or maybe I just like the stars."

Sam had laughed at that, couldn't contain his joy anymore so he said it out loud. His voice was raspy from the weariness and being unused, and it was only a moment, a small second, you wouldn't even hear it, but Bucky was so close, could even feel Sam's breath against his chin, it's so goddamn intimate. That laugh sounded like bells and Bucky made sure to tell him.

That was two months ago and Sam couldn't dwell on how many moments he wasted by staying in Paris instead of following Bucky back to Brooklyn, but his heart aches at the mere mention of the Eiffel Tower. Paris has been kinder to Sam than London ever could, and it's a breath of fresh air he could never have anticipated.

Bucky squeezed Sam's hand, and he couldn't feel the stars. They couldn't feel the burning passion of the stars in their hands anymore and the sun had lost its glow, but Bucky assured them that they still have the moon. Oh, Sam always had the moon… only had the moon.

It was a few days of walking aimlessly numb with the moon that Sam had wanted what he needed, for the first time in a long time. He finds himself disheveled, packing his things after long deliberation, and getting away as fast as possible from London. London has once been kind to him, but the rain never smelled so bitter than before. There was terror in those London streets and there was no art that could've made him stay there. His heart doesn't break as he leaves but it's shattered as he runs.

Sam had lived and loved in London for three undying years and he's found the toxicity in the air, choking him to bits until he was lifeless. He needed to get out of there. What's choking you? Sam needed to breathe until all he had left was oxygen in his lungs. He needed to run away from the tremor in his hands and his beating heart. He needed to run away from his wars.

"I hate heights," Bucky had spoken on the flight so long ago, two years ago, when he had suddenly grabbed Sam's hand when the engine roared for takeoff. "Do you— Sorry, um," he remembered to speak in ASL, and he's more nervous than before, "Planes included. I'm afraid of them."

Bucky's grip was tighter this time as they stood under the roof of the Louvre, and, yes, they may have felt the love of France in a single lightbulb, but they also felt fear run through their veins. Bucky shuddered beside Sam and the latter could feel the walls closing in, the single sentence still stuck in the air. It winked like a star but had mischief like rivers.

They're bringing me to Afghanistan.

Nightmares of dunes and the scorching sun reached Sam's nerves and those same nightmares decided to play with him once again, and it's all they ever done, all they ever do. Lifeless and numb like a fool, Sam let's them get him fucked over and over and over and over and over—

"I won't talk about it," Bucky had traced on Sam's bare skin some sleepless nights ago, so long ago, sometime in February with winter grabbing hold of their windows. Bucky planted another kiss on Sam's hips and he could himself decay under the passion. "I promise. But…Whenever you're ready."

Love on those kinds of nights was slow. Just how they like their love. Slow, agonizing, because they were both lovers of creation, because they craved the legacy of paintings and planets, because they wanted this to last for centuries longer.

"I'm sorry," Bucky whispered under the intimidation of the Louvre, and there's a choking sob behind those words, as if they were mourning the demise of their relationship. Sam didn't hear it. Sam couldn't hear it. "I'm so sorry. The stars didn't hear me, I was…" his breathing was stuttered, and he feared that he couldn't breathe in France.

It was back at Afghanistan, Afghanistan, Afghanistan, it was —

Sam shook his head. All he could feel was the strum of pulses in Bucky's wrist. His fingers twist to feel it, feel the strum of life in his lover before it inevitably disappears one day.

"I love you," Sam had signed all those moons ago.

Bucky had written down one accompanying line: I love you too, on a piece of paper. Sam's heart knew nothing of tragedy then.

Sam and Bucky couldn't look at each other under the Louvre. The Raft of Medusa hung still before them, and all they saw was red. Red, red. So much of it.

"Kiss me again and make me forget of heartache," Sam signed, his hand shaking at every single moment. His eyes were empty, full of fear.

Bucky's free hand found itself caressing Sam's cheek, then he swooped in, quick but deep, his lips mark a kiss that burned brighter than a supernova. Sam kisses just as deep. There's pain in it, but that didn't matter at the moment.

They kissed again in the Louvre, forgot London and Afghanistan for a moment, and recreated every single tragedy in history to commemorate their love into the stars.

The pain was quick. The letter was quick. The pain was ripped off like a bandaid, but why was Sam's quiet muffled sobs lasted for eight months? Why did the stars turn dead and forgot Bucky's wish three years ago?

I wish Sam could draw. Find the meaning behind the reason artists paint.

It was a sleepless lifetime, and all Sam wanted to do was rot. Rot with Bucky as they buried an empty coffin. He wanted to scream so badly until he could hear his own voice again. Sam wanted to paint bruises on his skin like the love bites Bucky puts on him, gathered like a constellation, better than Starry Night ever could.

"You're the only art piece I know," Bucky had spoken before he left for Brooklyn those years ago, promising to come back. Come back.

Sam runs away until his legs find themselves burning at every step. He left Paris for Versailles and mourned beneath the stars, asking for one last wish he couldn't have. He moves on to Amsterdam and goes ahead to Moscow, breathing in death as deeply as he could. I've loved him, I've loved him, I've loved him, Sam loved Bucky the way he loved art, and even so, he loved until he couldn't feel his hands anymore.

I wish Sam could draw, like he always wanted to.

Sam grieves once more in America, under the stop lights and burning billboards. America never meant anything to him, but Queens left a mark on his soul. He moves on to Louisiana then to San Francisco, moves along Asia next then he doesn't know what to do. He tried to find reason behind the names of the places he never knew and wanted one name in his bones. James Barnes, and this was a tragedy Sam couldn't even own.

I wish Sam found the reason why artists paint.

Tragedy.

When Sam lifted the paintbrush and immortalized words into colors, he found the reason why. It was ugly, but it was peace. Instead of fleeing, Sam stayed in Versailles. Sam stayed for the stars that Bucky had once believed in, but he still couldn't find the reason why Bucky needed to breathe. What's your poison? Ah, it was the same reason why Sam didn't feel for the art.

Artists painted to immortalize the tragedy of the lack of love in their lives.

Sam painted for the same reason: Bucky Barnes.

#sambucky #sam wilson #bucky barnes #winterfalcon #sam wilson sundays #france: works #france: writing #onlysambucky #sambuckyfic

79 notes · View notes