Annoying the JJK guys with Christmas lyrics - SMAU
Summary: it's Christmas season and you decide to do what you do best - annoy your pretty little bf!
Genre: just crack
Songs featured: Last Christmas - Wham!; I don't want a lot for Christmas - Mariah Carey; Winter Wonderland - Bing Crosby; Holly Jolly Christmas - Michael Bublé; Carol of the Bells - John Williams.
Warnings: Sukuna is disrespectful towards christianity; a bit suggestive in some.
A/N: MY FIRST SMAU!!!! Late for Christmas I know, but when am I not late to anything at all. At least it's out before the New Year! I repeated some songs because I wanted to stick with the ones that are more commonly known. Also I tried to choose ones that could seem like texts. Anyways, happy Holidays yall!!!
I didn't like Ino's much and almost deleted it but then I felt bad about writing it and not posting sooo yeah, there he is!
Summary: How the JJK men touch you before and after being in a relationship with you - and how they're always dying to do so!
Neutral reader!
Including: Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru (separated)
Genre: Fluff (lots of it!)
Wordcount: 5.8k total - 1.8k for Nanami and Gojo. 2k for Geto's
Notes: Very quick mention of periods in Gojo's, but it's so quick you can easily ignore it if you're a person who doesn't get periods. No physical descriptions and no use of Y/N.
Warnings: One brief mention of (little) blood.
A/N: Boy oh boy. This has been sitting in my docs for over a month as I ponder weather it's good enough for posting or not. Reasons being that 1. it's my first JJK fic and 2. I haven't written anything in over 2 years. So I'm really not confident about my rusty writing skills. When I was proofreading it, I thought Nanami's part wasn't good enough, but didn't know how to make it better! Which led to two more weeks of me not wanting to post it. But today I've summoned the courage and BAM! Here it is! Anyways, hope you like it (and let me know if you do, please)! Proofread but let me know if you spot some error.
Nanami Kento
Nanami never touches you. He may be dying for any kind of touch - a slight brushing of hands when you hand him something, your arms pressing against each other during a car drive, accidentally bumping into you as he enters the room you’re exiting – but none of it ever happens. He wouldn’t let it. He’s too respectful to let it happen. Damn, he’ll rush to the car just so he can take the passenger seat before anyone else does. Well, the front seats are more dangerous, of course he’ll take it so anyone else does. And his legs are longer anyway so there's more room for him. These are his actual reasons, right?
Plus, a ten-minute drive would turn into a ten-hour long one in his brain if you were pressed against him. Every tiny bump on the road making you press and rub on each other for a fraction of a second. He’d probably pass out.
The most he’d touch would be with his fingertips, ever so slightly, barely there even. And only on your shoulders or the very top of your back, in case he needed to walk past you in a narrow space, or maybe get your attention silently.
And even with that, he’d be flexing his hand open and then closing it into a tight fist, nervous like a little boy. His face was absolutely neutral, though. Yes, kinda like that one Pride and Prejudice scene.
There was this one time he really messed up. Couldn’t even sleep that night. He was sitting at the table, talking to Shoko, and as he described whatever it was that he was talking about (he couldn’t remember anymore), he stretched out his arm to the side in a gesture, just as you were walking by, and accidentally brushed your thigh, close to your knee. A feather-like, quick brush.
Oh no.
He apologized deeply. Sincerely. Guilt (and shame) in his face, his voice, his whole body. You said it was okay, that it was nothing, no need to worry. All while giving him that damn sweet smile of yours. You sat down as well, joining them, and as he felt heat creep up from his stomach to his neck, he excused himself and stood up quickly, fixing his perfectly-in-place tie, so none of you would see him blushing. What if you were just being nice? What if you thought he was disrespectful? A creep? What if you didn’t like him anymore? Hated him? He was in a cold sweat, laying on his back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, barely blinking.
But oh boy was he touch starved. He craved for the most simple things. Anything would do it at this point. A high five. A gentle poke of your finger on his shoulder. Taking an eyelash off your cheek with his fingertip and having you blow it away for luck.
He’d been thinking of a chance to hug you. Being able to feel your soft form against him as he gets to smell your lovely perfume straight out of you, and not just having the breeze blow it towards him. Honestly that breeze was very disrespectful, forcing him to smell things he couldn’t have.
How far was Christmas? He could hug you then. Or New Years perhaps. There was also your birthday. It’s okay to hug people on their birthdays, he could do that without being weird.
There was this other time that caused him to heat up like a boiler. You fixed his tie after he finished tying it back around his neck, after a particularly intense fight against several curses at once. Technically, you didn’t touch him, you just touched his tie. But he felt your fingers lightly on his chest, just above his dress shirt. That alone was enough to have him shaking.
“There. Better.” You said, looking up at him with a soft smile.
How did you manage to look so cute even after a crazy, tiring fight, clothes covered in dust, a tiny splash of blood across your cheek? He, once again, had to hide his intense blushing, muttering a low “thank you” as he looked away, cheeks red and ears on fire. He cleared his throat, trying to see if he could get his voice to sound anything above a whisper. He was just fine after all that fight, it was you who had taken away all of his strength. Thankfully, there wasn’t much light where you were to make his obvious blush contrast against his pale skin and hair. You didn’t see it.
He started dusting off his clothes, tapping away at himself, more to get his head out of those nervous thoughts than to actually clean himself. You did the same. And then, as he finally recomposed himself enough to turn back to you, your arm reached up. Up, up, up above his jaw, his ear, to the top of his head.
“There’s something here…” you said, nonchalantly, as you brushed out something that had gotten caught in his hair.
God, why were you so touchy today?!
He just watched your movement, thanking you with a little “mm-hm” – there goes his voice again.
There was something on your hair as well. He had noticed earlier. Could he brush it away for you too? Would it be weird if he did? Was doing that being a gentleman? Well, it wouldn’t be gentlemanly of him to let you walk out with something – a tiny thing – on your hair, right?
“There’s, uh-“ He started, nervous “you have something up here, too…” he said, and then reached for it with a touch so light you didn’t even feel it. But he did. And oh my, was your hair soft.
“Thank you.” you said, cheerfully. He gave you a brief nod.
“Yeah. No problem.”
He then quickly grabbed his phone to call Ijichi so he could come pick you two up and get him away from this dangerous scenario he found himself in: you.
When Ijichi finally arrived, Nanami did what he always does, and rushed to the passenger seat. And once you were all seated and buckled up, and Ijichi started driving again, Nanami cursed himself for forgetting to open the car door for you. Where were his manners? His mother taught him better than that.
Later that night, the warmth from your fingers adjusting his tie was still lingering on his chest. He covered his face with a pillow and let out a long, “I’m such an idiot”, loud breath.
Things didn’t change much after you started dating. He had, somehow, managed to gather up the courage to ask you out (this may or may not have involved Gojo telling him he would tell you about Nanami’s crush himself, in front of everyone, very loudly). On your first date, the only touch was your goodbye kiss on his cheek, which had him giggling and kicking his feet in the air the moment you closed the door to your place and he was out of your eyesight. He smiled to himself about it all through the night until he fell asleep, heart beating quickly.
On your third date, you slipped your fingers through his as you two walked around the park, under colorful trees. When you parted ways, his hand was burning, shaking even. He considered not washing it that day.
On the fourth date, he was bold! Reaching across the table to hold your hand. That night, he took another extra step and kissed your cheek back, slipping a gentle pinch to your chin as he wished you a good night, which had you melting.
Took him a few more dates to get comfortable touching you. Now, don’t get him wrong. He wanted to do it desperately, but he didn’t know if he was more afraid of disrespecting you or just touching you at all, like a pre teen boy around his very first crush. Still, he’s a man who takes his time, and respects yours above all else.
After you’re in an established relationship though, Nanami can finally wrap himself around you, just like he’s always dreamed of. And much before Christmas too! He’ll kiss you all over when you least expect it. He’ll lay on your lap, or lay on you, as you’re resting on the couch. You never fell asleep without being in his arms again - except when he cuddles into you and you have him in your arms instead. He’ll hug you from behind and rest his chin on your shoulder as you do something, even as you’re brushing your teeth. And don’t be surprised when he does it while you’re showering too! Walk by him whenever he’s sitting down and be sure he’s going to pull you into his lap, earning a cute little gasp from you. He holds you with so much care and love, like you’re the very reason for his breathing, but at the same time tight enough to make sure you’ll not, somehow, slip away. Like you would ever!
His kisses? Slow, tender, filled with love and affection, eyes full of adoration as he pulls away and looks into your own, gently caressing your cheek. You didn’t know you could ever meet someone with so much love in them. Nanami didn’t know he could feel so much love in him.
He’s the softest. And he’s the softest even in your most private moments, when things get particularly intense. Within the rough gripping and the clashing of teeth, you can still feel the tenderness in his touch, and the extra care in the little love bites he leaves all over your body. He may grab your neck or pull your hair, but always a bit less than you both know you can take. You’ve told him he could let go, but that’s just Nanami. He couldn’t bring himself to do more than that to you. Even if he wanted to give you that extra harsh slap that you ask him for (beg even) as you’re out of breath, his hand just… can’t.
And you love him exactly as he is.
He’s not one for a lot of public display of affection. He likes to keep his private life private. Also, he’s a bit shy when around others. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t do anything at all. Holding your hand, keeping an arm around your waist, kissing your forehead, taking your arm into his as you walk through a crowded place - he couldn’t bare accidentally getting separated from his dearest.
And don’t forget the little soft pinches on your chin, just like that one time on your fourth date. He normally sneaks those when you’re in a setting where he can’t give you a quick kiss, or, honestly, just for the fun of it, because he loves to watch you absolutely melt, cheeks growing pink and a childish smile spreading on your face. Every time. Every. time.
Sometimes he even thinks that you might be his actual heart, and this thing that is beating inside his chest is just… something else.
And when he looks at you, no matter where or when, he just knows he will never stop being so eager to touch you, however it is. How could he? You’re the love of his life, after all.
Gojo Satoru
Now, we all know Gojo is all over everybody. Always slinging his arms around other people’s shoulders and invading their personal space. Especially if it’s someone he’s fond of. Not that he doesn’t touch people he dislikes and that he knows dislike him back, just to annoy them. It’s his not-so-secret pleasure.
So yeah, he’s always all over you. Giving you attention or pouting as he begs for your attention. It becomes more and more frequent, and he doesn’t hide it. Soon it’s clear for everybody that he's crushing hard on you. The students start teasing him during class and as they cross paths at school, but he just let’s them. It’s the truth, anyway.
But if you think he’s not touch starved even though he’s constantly touching you, you’re wrong. Very wrong. He’s longing, aching for more. And it’s not sexual, no. Not that the thought hasn’t crossed his mind more than once, but it’s not it. He wants to pick you up and bury his nose on your neck. Wants to kiss you every time you do something great, and kiss you every time for no reason other than wanting to as well. Wants to hold you extra close, your body tight against his, face on his chest, as you two fall asleep together. He wants you to run your fingers through his hair as he lays on your lap after a long, exhausting day. Wants to massage your neck and shoulders when you are the one who had a long day. Once you complained about menstrual cramps and said you really wish you had a heat bag around. Well, it took everything on him to not launch himself at you and place his warm hands over your lower belly (yes, he’s an “uterUS” guy).
When he gets to hug you, as in, when he just hugs you for no reason, he gets your scent all over him and his clothes for the rest of the day, and oh, he loves it. Find him walking around with a dumb(er) smile plastered on his face for the rest of the day. But when night comes and he’s alone at home, he begins to despise it, because you’re not there. And of course he’s gonna make it everyone’s problem by texting the guy group chat he made exclusively for talking about his crush on you. Poor Geto and Nanami (Nanami has left the group chat several times, but Gojo keeps adding him back). He even sends whiny audios.
He doesn’t want to mess things up with you. So he’s also asked the girls around him for dating advice. Shoko quickly dismissed him with a thick puff of cigarette smoke. Mai just told him “don’t” because she thinks you deserve better. Nobara started by listing all the reasons he was not fit for having a girlfriend, but eventually started talking so much about what a guy should do and how a guy should behave that he had to start taking notes on his cellphone so he wouldn’t forget anything. Of course, when he thanked her, she made him buy her a new jacket as an actual thank you.
And while he doesn’t come up with a date idea he’s satisfied with, he’ll have to settle with what he has for now.
And as you two get even closer, you start to get touchier too. You start by poking him around every now and then, eyes glowing with mischief when you find his ticklish spots. You lean into him as you two are looking down at the same thing. Hold onto his arm randomly, just because. Until you also start hugging him at any chance you get. And oh boy, is Gojo absolutely delighted. His hopes were more up than ever, and this was a sample of heaven. Actual heaven would be when you two finally get into a relationship. Preferably married. Geto and Nanami keep having to tell him to calm down.
Your first date wasn’t like Gojo planned. In fact, he didn’t even ask you out. But it wasn’t bad at all.
It happened when you two found yourselves in a strangely romantic setting after fighting some grade one cursed spirits that showed up in the middle of a crowded carnival. Of course, everyone fled the place, and it was deserted, but everything was still working (except for a couple rides and tents that were destroyed during the fight). So, you and Gojo grabbed some (free!) snacks and headed to the ferris wheel, admiring the night sky together.
“This kinda feels like a date, doesn’t it?” He said after a brief moment of comfortable silence, without thinking much, and mentally facepalming at his dumb ass and big mouth. He kept his eyes glued onto the sky after this and stuffed his face with more candy.
“Do you want it to be?” You asked, chill on the outside, shaking on the inside.
Gojo looked at you so fast his neck actually hurt, eyes wide and cheeks full of candy, just like a chipmunk. He swallowed it all down with a big, kinda painful gulp.
“Well, I– I wouldn’t mind…” he answered, his heart beating so fast his chest was hurting. Or was it the candy he swallowed way too soon?
You could see his whole face turning red even under the dim light, and you held back a giggle. Seeing this big guy turn into a very tiny one so quick was adorable.
“Cool. It’s a date, then.” You said with a smile.
It was no surprise that you two kissed on that very same night, you being as down bad for him as he was for you. Gojo was glad your eyes were shut as you kissed, this way you couldn’t see him frowning and scrunching up his nose as he tried his best not to kiss you desperately. ‘Be normal, Gojo Satoru’, he thought to himself.
Of course, he acted like his super chilled self once you parted, smiling like he wasn’t squealing like a little girl in his head.
Didn’t take long after he became your boyfriend for him to start suggesting you two should move in together. Took even less time for him to start begging for it.
“But baby, I want to cuddle with you every night, and wake up still holding you every day, and have the entire house smelling like you always, especially when you walk out of the shower. I want to sniff all that soap scent out of you. Please! I don’t want to be left with just some pictures of you when I could have real you there.” He said the last sentence with a big pout and huge puppy eyes. You had come to find his eyes could, somehow, get even bigger when he was being whiny like this.
You had also come to find that you couldn’t say no to him.
Damn that lanky man.
Oh, and by “some pictures”, don’t believe him. It was loads of pictures. There were countless pictures of your face everywhere in his house: in the living room, in the kitchen, the bedroom, the study, and even in the bathroom. Yes, he hung one there and refused to take it out. Even when you moved in. So you gave up trying to get it out of there and instead hung a picture of him by yours.
He loved it.
Although finally satisfied with how much he could touch you at any time he wanted, at night he would still wrap himself all around you, entangling his long legs with yours, elated that you were his at last. It was uncomfortable sometimes, having these bumps between you and the mattress, but getting out of his embrace wasn’t a choice. All you could do was wiggle and grunt a little until he moved his limbs into a more comfortable position for you - because he, for one, didn’t mind being uncomfortable as long as he was all around you. Holding you tight was his idea comfortable. And God, if he could become one with you he absolutely would.
Even during summer, he would turn on the AC on the lowest setting just so he could be all over you without you complaining about it being too hot. And if the house got too cold, don’t worry, he’ll heat you up with his whole body, like a personal, portable heater. Or a living blanket.
You were never cold during winter either, because at the smallest of the chills on your body, he would be there. Be it by rubbing your arms and hugging you while you were out or pulling a warm, fuzzy blanket over the two of you when you were home. Hell, he didn’t even think it was that bad when you mischievously put your ice cold feet on his back simply for the fact that that was you touching him. And your punishment for this? Being trapped tightly in his arms while he showers you with quick, loud kisses that makes the skin on your face and neck tickle. Oh, and he will sneak a kiss right on your ear, just to watch you squirm and the goosebumps on your skin, your laugh and his filling the room.
Worried you'll crush him when you lay on top of him. Well, worry no more, really - he wants you to.
Gojo couldn’t be any happier.
And that group chat? Never forgotten. He would still constantly update the boys on everything you two did together.
“We fought :C”
“We’re talking again!!!!”
“We went out and had swiss roll cake today ☺️”
Nanami blocked him when he got the “GUYS, IT HAPPENED! WE SPENT THE NIGHT TOGETHER” message. If there was one thing Nanami would not read it would be what Satoru Gojo did in bed with someone.
But be not afraid. Gojo would never, ever expose you like that. No. He’d pluck his eyes out and die before he did anything harmful to you. What he did was ramble on and on about how perfect it was and how happy he was and how it was everything he’d dreamed of and more.
Poor Geto (who has the patience of a saint, really) had to go through it all, reading each new message slowly, with care and fear, also afraid that Gojo could end up spilling too much in his excitement.
All Geto could say after Gojo was done talking was “I’m glad for you, Satoru 😊”, earning several lovestruck stickers from Gojo.
Since he started dating you, it never took too much to make the man happy. Just being with you, seeing you, or even just mentioning you was enough to have him glowing.
But nothing compared to having you in his arms, safe and sound.
It did take a whole lot to get Nanami to unblock him, though.
Geto Suguru
Dear Geto’s hands are tingling, itching, burning to touch you. When he’s watching you, he unconsciously starts fidgeting with his hands, rubbing his fingers together, digging his nails into his palms, cracking his fingers, shoving them into his pockets so he can grab the fabric of his pants.
Gojo notices how Geto starts doing this more and more often, but he hasn't figured out why yet. Until the day he’s finally going to ask Geto if he’s alright, and if there’s anything going on. When he shifts his gaze from Geto’s hands to his face, he catches him stealing a look at you, not so discreet this time. He was clearly not paying attention to what Gojo was saying just seconds ago.
A smile creeps up on Gojo’s face. He thinks it’s cute, really. Seeing his best friend fall for someone. But what’s much, much better is that now he’s got an amazing reason (or should we say one more) to tease poor old Suguru nonstop.
But what Geto doesn’t realize is that he’s already touching you. All the time. You two are close friends. Have been for good a while. And he’s always respected you, obviously. You are comfortable around each other. So it kind of makes sense that he doesn’t notice when he starts doing so.
He’ll sometimes whine about being tired as the two of you are sitting down on the couch, and lay his head on your shoulder. He also does that when you show him something on your phone. If you two are standing, he’ll rest his cheek on your head.
Other times, he’ll just hook his pinkie around yours as you walk side by side. When you’re in a crowded place though, he’ll either walk behind you with his hands on your shoulder, especially if he's guiding you somewhere or you're guiding him, or sneak his arm around your waist. Depends if he’s feeling more playful or moody that day.
Oh, and speaking about waist, that’s his absolute favorite spot to hold you. He’s standing or leaning somewhere and you come by? He’ll immediately reach out for your waist and pull you close, having you rest your body against his. He’s sitting down and you’re standing? There comes that arm firmly pulling you to him, thumb gently rubbing your side.
The latter had you start to (also subconsciously) do something similar: if you’re sitting and he stops by your side, you’ll give his pants a gentle tug to get him to stand closer so you can rest your head on his hip. And no one is surprised when, after a while, Geto’s hand goes from resting on your shoulder to caressing your head.
Oh, don’t forget the amazing bear hugs he’ll give you all of a sudden, making you gasp in surprise and then start to giggle as you hug him back, wonderfully nestled into him.
He doesn’t even have to look before reaching for you anymore. He’s memorized all the bits of you at this point. He would think it’s ridiculous, hadn’t he been so oblivious to his own actions.
And you enjoy it all, leaning into him and basking in the warmth and peace that radiate from him. Because you like him just as much as he likes you. You just don’t know it yet.
Gojo noticed this not too long after noticing Geto’s feelings for you. He actually realizes you like Geto much before you do. And he’s perplexed by it all. How can the two of you be so oblivious about it?! He’s so perplexed he doesn’t even tease as much as he normally would, too invested into watching the two of you being absolutely clueless around each other. Eventually he starts talking about it with Shoko, and they obviously make a bet on who’s going to confess first.
Geto also finds himself growing jealous and rather possessive of you (in a normal way, not in a toxic, creepy way). If looks could kill, so many people would’ve spontaneously combusted by now, just from the glare he sends anyone that stands too close or gets too funny around you. Especially that one friend of yours who’s way too comfortable with you. He’ll watch from a distance until his patience is entirely over, and then immediately make his way to you, arm glued to your waist before he’s even stopped walking, a fake ass smile on his face as he says something like “what are you two talking about?” or “what’s up, honeycomb?”. Or, to that friend he’s seen more times than he’d like, “I’m sorry, have we met before?”. He’ll even add an “Are you sure? I think I would remember you if we did” when he’s feeling extra spicy.
And still Geto Suguru’s hands are aching for you, for how touch starved he is. And he’s still fidgeting with them the moment he lays eyes on you.
Then, after far too many weeks of suffering - and finally telling his bestie about his crush - he’ll whine to Gojo about being so desperate for anything from you. About how glad he would be if he could at least hold your hand or have just one little touch from you. And he’s still mid mental breakdown speech when Gojo interrupts him with a
“Bro, are you serious right now?”
And when he doesn’t understand Gojo’s question, the white-haired man has to tell him all that he's been watching for the past few months.
“You two just haven’t fucked at this point. Or have. But I really don’t wanna know.” Gojo shudders at the thought. “What I’m saying is, we all thought it was cute and funny in the beginning, but now it’s becoming almost painful to watch. Shoko and I are nearly giving up our bet. Nanami’s considering moving to the countryside sooner.”
And the ridiculous look that Geto has on his face, speechless, mouth dropped to a perfect shocked “O” after hearing it all, is priceless. Gojo is dying to pull out his phone and take a picture of him, but he’s not in the mood to get beat up at the moment (he got his hair cut today, ok?).
But Shoko, being the icon she is and having just entered the room after hearing her name, captures the moment perfectly, making the picture their groupchat’s icon right away.
Geto’s mostly silent for the rest of the day, processing the information. It was all so simple, so natural to be that close to you that he didn’t realize he was already all over you. He’s stunned. At himself, mostly, more than the situation as a whole. How did he not notice? Geto Suguru, who’s always so aware of himself, his every thought and every move (no wonder everyone thinks he’s so gracious, even when he’s sitting with his legs spread open).
He starts getting anxious that night soon after going to bed. What if he had gone too far? Invaded your personal space? What if you were secretly hating it, disgusted and uncomfortable, but couldn’t find a way out of this situation. He knows you can defend yourself damn well, but if that had messed you up mentally, things aren’t as easy and simple as kicking him in the balls.
But then you would’ve made something at this point, right? Avoid him and distance yourself. Plus, you’re close friends with Gojo as well, you would’ve said something or asked him for help if that was the case.
Also, Gojo may be stupid, but he’s not that stupid. And he’s got good eyes. He knows you well. If he says you like him too, the chances of that not being true are very low.
That calms him down… A little.
He decides that he’s got to think of something. Do something. If not ask you out, at least talk to you. Make things clear. And apologize if he has to.
And then he, once again, unconsciously slips into daydreaming about a scenario where luck is on his side, and instead of laying down on his own to go to sleep as he is right now, he’ll be able to fall asleep with his arms practically tied around you, his nose shoved against your head so he can intoxicate himself with that delicious smell of your shampoo. He thinks falling asleep due to low oxygen because of doing so is a great way to fall asleep.
As you become significant others, he’s still doing all that he used to do (and much more, of course), but in a deeper way.
He’ll lay his head on your shoulder and loop his arm around yours. He’ll fully hold your hand, interlocking your fingers. His hand is firm against your hip, holding you close to him. When he pulls you close as you’re standing and he’s sitting, he’ll loop his arms around your leg and hold your thigh, or both your thighs, as he rests his head on your side. Or he might pull you to his lap, nonchalantly. Who knows?
Those bear hugs? Expect loads of them. Surprise or not. And now he’s also picking you up and showering you with kisses. He falls in love even harder when you get all giddy when he spins you around.
And his favorite, the arm around your waist as you two stand there. Now both his arms are around you, tighter than ever, obviously possessive even though he (again) doesn’t realize how possessive he looks when he does that. Especially when he’s leaning against something and his leg is slipping between yours, your hips tight against him, and he’s resting his chin on you (he doesn’t know why, but this one is heaven to him).
He’s so about touching you and feeling you, that when you’re in bed together, he doesn’t see the point of using something else to tie you up when he can just hold you in a position himself. He’ll use his own body and weight to keep you down, or, if he can’t hold you as he’d like (he only has two hands, unfortunately) he’ll command that you hold yourself in place so can use his hands to hold wherever else he’s got his mind on. You obey, obviously, mischievous or desperate, depending on how fucked up you already are at that point.
Aftercare? Showering you (he’ll clean you up in bed if your legs are too wobbly) and massaging your whole body, of course. He’ll kiss your body, following his hands, as he goes on, whispering sweet nothings. Then, he’ll pull you against his chest, wrapping both arms around you, so you can fall asleep listening to the always-calm, steady thud of his heartbeat. You’re both still naked, skin on skin, to be able to be as close to each other as humanly possible. He’s the happiest man on Earth.
He’s not shy of kissing you in public, either. From a peck to an open mouthed kiss, he’ll do it all. You’re the one growing red all over, actually. Having to push against his chest so he’ll pull away, especially when he’s going at it for too long.
“Oh, let them watch.” he murmurs as you point that everyone’s looking, your eyes darting everywhere in embarrassment “They’re either happy for us or straight up jealous” He says with those beautiful eyes of his staring so deeply into yours that you swear he can see your soul. “I’ve got the prettiest little thing there is anyway. All mine.” He holds your chin and kisses you one last time. He’s a teaser, but he respects it every time you ask him to stop.
Another thing he’s come to love is having you brush his hair, whether it’s in the morning or after naptime. Or at some random moment, just because he wants to feel you gently brushing it. And his favorite is after washing his hair. He’ll grab his hair products and comb and rush to you, closing his eyes as you gently untangle his hair and the delicate, flowery smell of the products fill the room. You always end it with an “all done, baby!” and a kiss to his forehead, and he thanks you looking up at you with loving eyes, following with a kiss on your lips. He wouldn’t trade moments like this for nothing in the world.
He loves you. And he loves loving you. And he adores holding you however it is.And even after all this time, his hands still itch, still tingle, still burn, and still get all fidgety every time he looks across the room and his eyes find you.
P.S.: Might write a part 2 of this for more characters once I get more comfortable with writing them, like Ino, Choso and Higuruma!
Summary: Steven had been missing for several days. After looking for him everywhere, you keep going to his flat hoping that he'll eventually come back home. When he's finally back, he has a lot to tell...
Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader - reader's gender is quickly mentioned twice.
Genre: fluff, very slight angst.
Warnings: cursing, small mention of scars, seeing and touching said scars. Nothing beyond that.
Words: 2,6k
A/N: My first Moon Knight work!!! Still insecure on writing Steven (and the other two), but hopefully this is good enough. Let me know what you think! Also I couldn't come up with a good title idea. Oops :/
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"STEVEN!"
Half of London had heard you yelling his name, he was sure of it.
Steven turned around quickly, following the sound of your voice. He was about to enter his building when he heard you. He'd just come back from Cairo that morning -or at least that was his latest memory of being back to London, even though he had two fishes now- and had left home to buy some groceries.
Your sight was a relief for him, and he smiled fondly at you once he spotted you amidst the crowd. But once he saw the feral look on your face as you stomped your way to him, his smile dropped and his eyes widened - he knew he was in trouble.
"WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!" You yelled again, despite the fact of being almost in front of him already. Once you got to him, you pushed him by his shoulders. "You absolute mad man! I was worried sick!"
"... Hello there." Was all he managed to say for now, in that shy, wavering voice he had whenever he got nervous. You sighed, and the crease between your eyebrows disappeared.
"Where were you, Steven?" You hugged him, and he nearly dropped the paper bag he was clutching on his arm. Eventually, he was able to lace his free arm around your waist, not holding you too tight, too shy to do it. "Are you okay? What happened?" You questioned him, in a controlled voice now, but still filled with concern. "Your phone was out of range. I came to your flat several times. Met an old lady who said you tried to assault her?! Hell, I even went to your job and that Donna bitch said you'd been fired! What the bloody hell is going on, Steven Grant?" You looked deep into his eyes.
He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to come up with a reasonable answer. He had no idea where to begin, and he was sure you weren't going to believe him at all. After vanishing for several days, he thought saying 'I went to Egypt to help Konshu, an Egyptian God, stop Harrow, a crazy old man, and Ammit, another Egyptian goddess, from killing half of the world' would earn him a punch in the face. Which was understandable. Maybe he even deserved it. He could've contacted you, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't think about doing so several times, but he had no idea what to say to you.
"Talk to me, Steven." You said when he didn't say a word, holding his shoulders firmly in your hands. "Are you in trouble? Is someone else involved in this? Please, let me help you, Stevie." You were basically begging him.
He sighed before speaking.
"Come in. I'll make you that tea you like and then I'll tell you everything." He gave you a reassuring smile, and you couldn't help but hug him again.
"Alright." You said, nodding with your face buried into his chest. You had been so, so worried.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After making tea and assuring, several times, that he was alright now, he sat down on the couch with you, and proceeded to tell you everything. From the very beginning. You knew he had sleeping issues, and now he knew what those “issues” were, and told you about Marc. He told you about who Marc was, about the deal with Konshu, about Harrow and his insane plan. He told you about Layla, too, which did make you feel jealous, but you did your best not to let it show. He told you every single thing there was to tell, with the exception of his childhood memories. That was a too delicate subject that required more time to be talked about. He wasn’t planning to hide it from you, it just wasn’t the right moment. He’d dumped a lot of information on you already.
You were so confused during the whole story. So shocked that you didn’t even ask him anything as he went on. And you were still speechless once he was done.
He was sure you hadn’t believed a word. That you were shocked by how much he was lying to you, and not by the story itself. He mentioned that there probably were videos of the events on the internet, considering how things are nowadays. But you didn’t need to see them, having seen them all on the tv news, on newspapers, on group chats, everywhere. The crazy, inexplicable events that had happened in Egypt on the last few days did not pass unnoticed by those who were outside of it. And, hell, the sky had fucking rotated faster than lightspeed and absolutely no one knew what the fuck was that. You’d seen that one with your very eyes.
Sure, this being all over could just be used by him to come up with such crazy lies, trying to cover up whatever it was that had actually happened from you. But you knew Steven better than that. You’d met at the park just a little over a month ago, when you spotted him talking to the living gold statue guy. You figured they were friends, catching up while the older man worked. But once Steven was done talking about the events of his day, you couldn’t help but comment on it and offer him advice. He turned to listen to you, and after that, you’d talked with the then stranger for over two hours, without even asking each other’s names. When you parted ways, you felt sad that you hadn’t gotten his contact info. But to your pleasant surprise, you found him on the very same spot the next day. You talked everyday ever since, both amazed by how fast you had bonded. And both silently amazed by having fallen for one another so fast.
He was looking at you intently, afraid that you would walk away from him for never to return.
“The suit.” You finally spoke “Can I see the suit?” That would be proof enough.
“I… You see, we made a deal with Konshu. That he’d let us go once it was all said and done. So, uh, no suit anymore…” he explained. “Nothing’s really at my side here, is it?” He asked, scratching the back of his head.
You bit your bottom lip, looking at him. By this time the tea in your mug had cooled off, no longer helping to ease your tension and concerns.
“It’s hard to doubt things when the one telling them is someone you trust deeply.” You gave him a half smile.
He smiled back at you, looking so small on his spot on the couch. It was nice knowing that you trusted him, but it was heartbreaking to think he had just completely broken that trust. Suddenly, he realized that he had something that he could show you and maybe prove his story to be true.
“I have the scars. From the bullet wounds, you know, from when Harrow shot me.” He watched you. “I—I can show them to you, if that serves for anything. I didn’t have the suit on when it happened, so although it healed me when I came back, I still got to keep the scars.”
You gave a it a thought, then nodded, placing your mug on the coffee table. Steven got up, and held the hem of his shirt.
“They-re, uh, on my chest. So I, um, I’m sorry for this.” He said, panicky and blushing.
“It’s okay.” You assured him, getting up as well.
He lifted his shirt, clearing his throat in the process, and looking away in shyness the moment your eyes dropped to his torso and you walked closer.
The scars were there, two patches of pink flesh on his chest. They hadn’t healed completely just yet, still recent enough for their color to be of a pink tone instead of a very pale tone of his tanned skin. You got closer to look at them, and he could feel your breath on his skin. When you brought your hand up to touch them lightly, Steven jumped a little, surprised by your action. His cheeks blushed harder. He wanted to look at you so bad, and at the same time he was absolutely ashamed of doing so. The turmoil in his head as he decided if he should look at you or not was almost more intense as Marc and him fighting for control over the body.
Hesitantly, and moving his eyes to every direction as he moved his head, he finally looked at you. When he did manage to properly look at you though, he couldn’t take your eyes of your face, your gaze curiously studying the marks oh his chest as your fingers traced them subtly.
“Does it hurt?” You asked, still looking at his chest.
“Sometimes. But not much. Nothing to worry about” he answered, watching you study him. The scars were not the best proof he could give to you, but they were all he had.
You nodded, giving him a low hum in response. Once you were satisfied with what you were seeing, you drew your hand away from him, lowering it. It was at that moment, as your gaze dropped, that you saw his abdomen. You didn’t mean to stare at it, but the shadows and highlights it captured caught your attention, and you arched an eyebrow in confusion.
“Since when do you have abs?!” You asked, straightening your back, looking at him and then back at his abs. You knew he was not one to hit the gym. So however great he looked, you were so confused. He widened his eyes again, taken back by your question.
“Um, I have no clue. I’d have to ask Marc about that.” He confessed.
“Oh…” was all you could say. Still staring at them, you felt a great urge to touch them, but contained yourself and instantly cleared your throat, looking back at his face. He lowered his shirt back in place.
“This is all I can offer you as proof.” He said as he smoothed the fabric of his shirt.
“It’s okay. I… I believe you.” You told him.
“You do?!” his eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped slightly.
“I do.” You smiled.
“Wow, that’s—That’s crazy. I don’t think I would believe myself if I heard all of this shit, but… Wow” He was talking faster, adrenaline taking over him. “I was so sure that you’d punch or slap me. Or maybe even throw hot tea on my face, immediately leaving after that never to look back.” You giggled at that.
“I’d never hurt you, Steven. And, yes, I believe you. Anyone would think I’m crazy to do so, but…” you paused, and then let out a long breath. “I just know that you wouldn’t lie to me”.
“No! No, I would never! Never have and never will” he promised. “… Thank you” he whispered at last.
“It’ll take me a while to process it all properly, but no need to thank me. Just know that I will be asking so many questions once my brain settles down” you and him both chuckled at that.
“I don’t mind. I’ll answer all of your questions.” He smiled at you, looking at you fondly. It wasn’t the first time he’d looked at you like that. And every time you felt like you could melt entirely.
You sighed once again, and stepped forward rapidly, wrapping your arms around his waist and holding him tight, breathing in his scent. He allowed himself to hold you just as tight as you were holding him, closing his eyes to relish the moment.
“Kiss her, man! I know that you like her. And she obviously likes you, too. Just kiss her.”
Marc spoke inside Steven’s head. Steven ignored him. The best he could, at least.
“I have a question for now.” You said, bringing him back from his quick moment of annoyance towards Marc.
“Shoot.” He answered.
“Is Marc always there? Is he watching everything that you do?”
“No, not all the time. We can interact sometimes, and that’s easier now that we’ve acknowledged each other. But he isn’t here all the time. In fact, most times we’re very far away when the other is in control, and we don’t share all of our memories.” He explained, patiently.
“I see” you said. You were still hugging each other. “Is—Is he there now?”
“No” he lied.
“Don’t worry, bud. I’ll let you be now. But if you don’t kiss her today I’m making you do it next time” Marc said, leaving with a chuckle.
Steven wanted to grunt, but he held back.
It’s not like he didn’t want to kiss you. He’d wanted that for a long time. And he had missed you during those days he’d spent away. But he couldn’t believe that a girl like you would ever like a man like him. Especially now that you knew he had a mental disorder. You’d most likely not want to deal with that.
“So…” you continued, voice unsure. “If I kissed you right now, I wouldn’t be kissing Marc as well, right?” you held his shirt in your fists as your heart hammered strongly against your chest.
Steven opened his eyes, not believing what he had just heard. Did he hear you correctly? He gave it a thought and, yes, he did hear you correctly.
“No, you wouldn’t” he did his absolute best to play it cool. “Well, it’s the same body, technically. But no, I assure you you would not”.
“Is it okay if I kiss you?” you asked in a low voice after reuniting all of your courage just to ask him that. If Steven could fight mercenaries, jackals, a guy assisted by a crazy goddess, and sand zombies, you could ask him a question, however daring. You weren’t 100% sure that he liked you back. But you had to try, right? And after these past days of being in absolute panic due to his sudden disappearing, you were more aware than ever of your feelings towards him and how much you craved to kiss his lips.
“It’s okay” he whispered back, just as anxious as you, hearing his heartbeat against his ears.
You loosened your grip slowly, looking at each other with eyes filled of nervousness, happiness, and eagerness.
He cupped your cheek with one hand, keeping the other on your waist. You held onto his shoulders, getting on your tiptoes ever so slightly to reach his lips. Closing your eyes, you closed the distance between you two.
It was a shy kiss at first, none of you having the guts to go further into it. His lips were soft and warm.
He tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you closer. When you parted your lips to gasp at that, he took the chance to deepen the kiss. It was all you had dreamed of and more. He was so gentle, so soft, so invested and focused on the moment. You were thankful he was holding you, or else you could’ve melted and slipped out of his grasp. As for him, he was grateful to be holding on to you, just as lost and completely taken by the moment as you. He too felt like melting at your touch, at the feeling of your lips and tongue against his.
When you parted for air, he was the first to speak, forehead leaning on yours.
Please check Surprise's masterlist for more information.
Words: 536
Warnings: brief mention of a panic attack and body insecurity.
Banner by @toomanystoriessolittletime
Frankie, my dearest,
Somehow you have the power to make me emotional with every letter you send. Happiness, sadness (that you’re not here), joy, desire…
Although foot rubs sound amazing, my back could use some attention too (painkillers don’t always work, and I don’t want to have too much of them).
Your mama must know what goes in my mind, because the day she came to visit – with a lot more food – and I was about to ask her for a shirt of yours, she pulled three of them out of her bag. “You two should have something from papa”, she said. She’s adorable!
I wear them to sleep and around the house. They’re pretty comfy! I might need more. Though I have to say, when I smelled you on them, it did things to me, taking me back to that night…
You mentioned you wanted to see my belly growing with Bean. I haven’t been very confident in my somewhat swollen body, especially in the last few weeks. But I thought you deserved it. And if it’s the only way we can share this wild journey together, then I’m willing to do it. I’ve been taking pictures of myself every Monday, and now that I have enough and they show significant change, I’m sending them to you. I wrote the date and the corresponding week of the pregnancy on the back of all of them. The last one I made sure to wear one of your shirts. ;)
On the other hand, your mama has been accompanying me to the ultrasounds now. On the last one, the doctor had the final image done in 3D. It was… strange seeing it. I’m not gonna lie, I got a bit of a panic attack there. Mama was crying out of happiness too. I cried as well, even though I wasn’t sure what made me cry. It was a chaotic moment, to say the least. I’ve, of course, included that picture in the envelope as well.
I’ve been a little tired lately. I’m having trouble falling asleep lately, but I guess that’s part of the whole thing. Whenever it happens, I wish you were here so you could hold me in your arms, and I’d be at ease, in peace, and be able to rest a little even if I couldn’t sleep…
Is that… weird to say? I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have.
I think I’m in love with you.
Please don’t hold the letter against the sun to try to read what’s under the scribbles.
Anyway. I hope you’re doing well and that you are safe. But please don’t go AWOL! They might get mad and have you stay away longer. Or send you somewhere else much sooner when you’re finally here, and I don’t want you to miss our Bean’s first weeks! (Plus, I’ll surely need the help. So don’t you go crazy out there, Francisco Morales)
Bean and I send you a very tight hug.
With much love,
Stay safe, corazón.
Your Bubbles ♥
Ps.: Mama embroidered some towels and kerchiefs with Mia’s name! She added flowers and tiny bears as well. They’re very cute!
Pps.: Really. Don’t try to read the scribbled words. I’ll die.
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Thank you very much for tagging me, Liv! And sorry everyone for taking so long!
Hey! Thanks for the May the 4th celebration party.
Can you, please, write a one shot with :
- Din Djarin
- "I can't get you out of my head " "... thanks?"
- friends to lovers
Thank you ♡
Thank you so much for this request! I love idiots in love!
Summary: after becoming the Mandalorian's trusted informant and developing a very close friendship with him, he starts worrying about your safety. Making the decision to keep you safe, he goes to your house to tell you about his plans, only he's not good with words and is being weird about it.
Words: 2,5k
Warning: Very brief mention of being followed.
A/N: I couldn't find any descriptions of Aq Vetina, so I took the liberty to give it two moons, because I thought it would be cute and I love moons.
You’ve got to know Din when he showed up at a bar you were at seeking information about a certain gang member. He didn’t ask you specifically, nor did you work at the bar; you just happened to overhear him asking the bartender. And oh, did you have information to share.
When he asked you how did you know so much about so many people in, let’s say, illegal activities, you simply said “I work at a beauty parlor. You’d be surprised at the way clients talk between each other like we, the workers, don’t hear anything.” You shrugged. “Be careful with what you say around the ones that work for you and treat them right, is all I have to say.”
From then on, you’d become his most trustful informant regarding that area of Coruscant.
The most exciting part of it all wasn’t telling him about meetings, appointments, plans or whatever else was being arranged, but seeing your clients lose their minds over the fact that everything kept being discovered, their spouses and friends getting caught, and the several versions of “Did you hear about them? They’ve lost it all since their spouse was taken away, poor thing”.
As time went by, a friendship started to grow between you and the Mandalorian, and you looked forward with more and more intensity to seeing him again, telling him the latest, hottest gossip, and then proceeding to talk about whichever subject would arise between you for the next several hours. It was highly surprising how well you’d gotten along, in a short period of time, coming to the point of becoming best friends.
What you did not know though, was how the Mandalorian’s feelings for you were also growing, becoming more intense with each visit he paid you. Lately, he couldn’t seem to be able to get you out of his mind – everything reminded him of something you’d said, something you’d done, or really just… you.
And he began to worry too. He’d been coming to you for information for a little less than a year, and the darker world of that part of Coruscant was beginning to get too stirred for his liking. You’d assured him nobody would ever hold you as a suspect and everything was fine, but he didn’t buy it. If anything were to happen to you – a thought he preferred to avoid – he would never, ever forgive himself.
He decided it was time to put an end to the scheme you both had. He’d take you somewhere safe, far away from there, help you with whatever you needed. But staying on Coruscant was no longer an option. If, as you said, nobody had a clue about your double agent-like life, then it was better to leave before anyone started to speculate. Your departure wouldn’t draw any attention nor rise any suspicions. It was now or never.
That’s how he ended up knocking on your apartment’s door at eleven p.m. on a Wednesday.
“Mando?!” You exclaimed, surprised to see him there. He’d normally let you know he was coming beforehand.
“I think you should leave.” He blurted out, completely not having thought through the conversation process he’d have to have with you. He was really good at planning things: attacks, fights, maneuvers, but talking was absolutely not one of them
You stared at him with a quizzical look on your face, crumpling the sheet mask you had on.
“I don’t even know if I should invite you in after this, but, please, come in?” You said, confused, and stepped aside so he could walk in in case he wanted to. You had no idea at this point.
He nodded, stepped in and waited for you to close the door. Once you did, you walked around him and gestured to the couch, offering a sit. He shook his head no, but didn’t say anything. You frowned in confusion, and the sheet mask slid halfway down your face. You sighed and peeled it off.
“Just a sec.” you said as you walked towards the bathroom to throw it away. “Can I get you anything?” You asked, louder so he could hear you. “Or do you just plan to not say a word after trying to kick me out of my own house at 11p.m?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that.” He said as he stood on the doorway to the bathroom, and you jumped in a little fright, putting a hand over your chest, not having noticed that he had followed you. “But I really think that’s the best thing to do, and we should do it the sooner we can.”
“Maker! What’s wrong with you today?” You toss the sheet mask into the trash can. “Did someone hit you on the head? Do you have a fever?”
As you asked him that, you reached up and found the spot under his helmet that hid the hem of his high collared shirt, lowering it just enough to press your hand against the skin on his neck and check for his temperature. He froze in place, the action too intimate and completely unexpected. Your hand lingered on the spot for a few seconds, and he could feel the warmth of his skin melting into your colder one. Your fingers were slightly tacky, some of the serum from the sheet mask still on them, and he could smell the faint, delicate perfume coming from it.
He swallowed, trying his best to make it seem like a casual movement, since it was likely that you would feel it against your hand.
“No, you’re alright.” You pulled your hand back, a thoughtful expression on your face as you eyed him. Suddenly, you raised an eyebrow and took a step back. “Wait, how do I know if it’s really you?”
“I’m the only Mandalorian in full beskar armor.” He stated.
“You could’ve stolen it from him.” You countered.
“You know my voice, though.”
“It could just be a filter. I’ve never heard his voice without the helmet.” You point to his head as you mention it.
“Stop referring to me in third person.” He sighed.
“What if you were sent by a gang member to get Mando, kill him, get his armor, only to get to me for passing information to him about said gang? Huh? How would I know?” You countered again, taking another step back.
“So you have thought about it!” He exclaimed, a mix of surprise and relief in his voice.
“Don’t change the subject!”
He sighed again.
“Y/N, it’s me. I promise.” He held his hands up in a sign of peace.
“Show me your hand.” You commanded, suddenly.
“I… What? My hand?” He tilted his head, confused.
“Yes. Your left hand. There’s a small tattoo on it. A planet. I saw it when you removed your glove once.” You admitted, and you could tell he was surprised that you’ve noticed. He didn’t even remember taking his gloves off in front of you before, but then again, you’ve always made him feel comfortable and at ease. Removing his gloves in front of you without even realizing it shouldn’t come as a surprise.
He nodded, and started pulling the fabric on tip of his fingers to loosen the piece of clothing. Once he’d removed it, he extended his arm towards you, showing you his hand. You leaned forward, looking at the spot between his index finger and his thumb on the top side of his hand. There it was: the little planet in black ink. From up close you could see there were two dots near it, probably symbolizing two moons. It was cute.
Finally, you relaxed.
“It is you.” You said, running a hand over your clothes to smooth them.
“Told you so.” He answered, but he was not mad. In fact, he let out a soft snort at you.
“Alright. What brought you here? Who are you hunting now?” You asked him, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I’m not after anyone this time. The reason I’m here is because I think it’s time we put an end to our informant-hunter scheme. The downfall of all those gang members and leaders is becoming too great, and it’s not gonna be too long until they start really digging deep into it to find out who’s responsible for it. If they get to you and something bad happens…” He let the sentence linger, sighing. “I can’t risk having you hurt because of me.” He confessed.
“Oh…” you scratched the back of your head. “Yeah, I’ve- I’ve been thinking about that, too, lately.” You admitted, and then averted his gaze and lowered your voice to a whisper “especially after a guy followed me from the beauty parlor to the station.”
“Excuse me, after what?” Mando exclaimed. “When was that? Why didn’t you reach out to me?” He paused for a millisecond to hear your answer, but spoke again before you had the chance to. “It doesn’t matter. We’re leaving. Now.”
“Wait, I can’t just leave like this. There are things I need to do first, people I have to talk to--”
“The less people know about you and where you’re going, the better.” He interrupted you “Trust me. Let’s just gather your things and go.”
“And not telling my friends or my boss? Won’t that make it even more suspicious?”
“As long as no one follows us we’ll be good. Now let’s do it. Grab your suitcase. I’ll help you out.” He said and started looking around the bathroom, opening the cabinet doors to find a necessaire in there. He opened it and started shoving things into it: your toothbrush and toothpaste, a comb, pads, a moisturizer, and everything else he figured you’d need.
“Mando, stop! You’re panicking.” You told him but he didn’t listen, instead continuing to look around the cabinet for anything he deemed would be necessary and shoving it inside the small bag. “Stop!” you took the necessaire from his hands, finally drawing his attention back to you.
“Y/N, please, you don’t understand…” He whispered.
“What do I not understand? Tell me what’s going on. Why this now?”
“Because—” he stopped himself, letting out a breath, and his shoulders dropped. “I can’t get you out of my head.”
“… Thanks?”
You two just stared at each other for a while, a weird silence hanging in the air.
“That’s all you have to say?” He asked when you didn’t say anything else, sounding disconsolate.
“Sorry, I—I got nervous. I…” you were unsure, uneasy, holding the bag in your hands in a firm grip. “Does this really mean what I think it means?”
“If you think it means I’m confessing my feelings for you, then yes, it does.” He swallowed thick, heart hammering against his chest, his hands going into fists as he fought the nervousness that washed over him.
“Oh…” You found yourself lost for words, and took a few more seconds to speak again. “Then I think it’s safe to say that I can’t get you out of my head either.” You looked at him, a shy smile on your lips.
Mando let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and it was like an entire world had been lifted off his shoulders.
“If you feel the same… Then do you understand why I need to get you out of here as soon as possible? Why I worry about you so much?” He asked, patiently, looking at you full of hope.
“I do.” You confessed softly.
At that moment, there were so many things Mando wanted to do: hold you close, pick you up and swirl you around, shower you with kisses, nuzzle into your neck, finally kiss your lips, and so many other things. But his focus at that moment was taking you far away from where you were currently standing, taking you somewhere safe. He’d have time to do all those romantic things with you later.
“Grab your stuff.” He said again, only it was softer this time. “We’ll sort everything else later. For now, let’s just focus on the most important matter: getting you to safety.”
“Okay.” You whispered, smiling at him.
Not too long after that, you found yourself on the passenger seat of the Razor Crest, looking down at the city as the ship distanced itself from it. It was an odd feeling, leaving everything behind so suddenly. But you were with Mando, the man you had grown to love and that you trusted more than anyone else, regardless of ever seeing his face, or even knowing his real name. Still, you had a feeling everything would be just fine.
“It’s Din.” His voice brought you out from your trance, and you glanced away from the now shrinking planet to look at him.
“What?” You asked.
“My name. I never told you. It’s Din. Din Djarin.” He confided, and you smiled warmly at him. It was like he could read your thoughts, and it was not the first time you’ve had that impression.
“It’s a beautiful name.” You told him.
“Thank you…” He said, and you could tell he felt shy about it, making you stifle a giggle.
“Do you have a place in mind that you would like to go to?” He asked.
“No.” you answered, trying to think of places you’d heard of before. You’d been born and raised on the lower grounds of Coruscant, and never had a chance to visit other planets. “Do you have a place you call home?”
“Well…” He said as he set the ship to autopilot “It’s not really a place.” He turned the chair so he could look at you. “The tattoo you’ve seen,” he started tugging his left glove off “This one.” he extended his hand to you so you can look at it again. “It’s Aq Vetina, the planet I was born on.” You look up from his hand to his visor, surprised to learn that. He cleared his throat slightly before speaking again. “It’s not a single tattoo. It’s part of a duo. They both mean home to me.” As he said that, he removed his right glove and extended both hands to you. You took them, and as you looked at his right hand, you saw another small drawing, on the same spot as the one on his left. It was a star.
“It’s beautiful.” You told him as you examined it, bringing his hands closer to each other so you could look at the drawings side by side.
“I got them on the same day, a couple months ago. This one is my favorite star. You’ve always reminded me of it” once again, you looked up at him in surprise. He could tell by the look in your eyes that you immediately knew there was more to that tattoo than just the drawing of a star. As he explained, he gently squeezed your hands in his, according to which hand he was mentioning to. He started with the left one. “This is my home planet, Aq Vetina. And this,” he mentioned to the right one, and looked deep into your eyes before speaking “is my favorite star – you. Home”.
Summary: After many years of being apart, an old friend of the Mandalorian - that meant more to him than he dared to admit - contacts him and invites him over. Could Din let himself dream of her again?
Genre: Fluff, slow burn (kind of)
Warnings: None
Words: 623
A/N: This story happens after the events shown in The Book of Boba Fett. This is just the introduction for a series, hence why such few words. It's also my first time writing after around four years, and first time writing for the fandom after even longer (six years, maybe? Seven?!); I'm anxious about it, but I've got support after posting if I should do this or not, so here we go! Hope you enjoy reading!
Part I;
Introduction
“Hey there, Mando!” Said a rather shy and unsure voice through the holoprojector. Din never thought he’d hear that voice again, let alone her sweet face. His jaw dropped a little and his eyes widened under the helmet.
“I know it’s been a while” the hologram continued, “a pretty long while. I think… ten years, maybe?” Maker! Has it really been that long? “But I just came back from the cantina, where I met a man telling the adventures of a certain Mandalorian in shiny helmet that owned a Razor Crest and that’s just been through a lot of trouble. It sounded just like the Mandalorian I’ve met all those years ago.” She smiled, and Din smiled to himself as he recalled the old times. “He also mentioned a child?! That one got me really confused. Anyway, I talked to him and he introduced himself as Greef Karga and was pretty surprised when I told him we knew each other. Guess your people skills haven’t gotten any better, huh? He told me you lost the Crest. I’m sorry about that; I’ve missed that ship… He’s the one that gave me your new ship’s contact code so that’s how I’m sending this to you. I…” Din watched the hologram attentively as she paused and her eyes looked away, clearly insecure to continue. “I thought that maybe you and the child could use some rest in a peaceful place. It’s spring here so the weather is nice and the views are beautiful. I would lov—I’d really like to see you again and catch up. That is if you want to, of course!” And Din immediately thought that yes, he really, really wanted to. “If you still remember where I live, please don’t hesitate to come by. I’ve sent you the coordinates anyway, just to make sure.” She smiled, and it looked warm and hopeful. “I hope you can come, or at least pass by. I… I miss you, Din. And I hope you’re well…” She sighed, still unsure of everything. Din sighed deeply as well; he also missed her… A lot. “Have a safe flight and take care of yourself, okay? Farewell.”
And with that, she was gone, only the coordinates to her place showing on the monitor. But Din didn’t need them, he remembered exactly where she lived and he’d still remember even if he tried to forget. Just as he still remembered everything else. Her place was also where he’d last seen her all those years ago, when he left even when his heart wanted to stay.
He hadn’t realized how long he was just sitting there, thoughtful, until Grogu knocked on the glass with his metal ball, bringing him back from his trance. Grogu made a questioning noise, that Din now knew how to recognize.
“She’s an old friend of mine. A really great one. We were very close. She traveled onboard the Razor Crest with me for a while, taking care of the ship and, well, taking care of me too, even though I was too stubborn to admit it.” Din chuckled to himself. He turned his head the best he could to look at Grogu in the small space of the starfighter. “She cooks really well too.” The baby’s giant ears perk up and his eyes sparkle as he lets out an expectant noise. Din chuckles again as he readjusts himself on his seat.
“I think we deserve some time away from trouble. What do you think, kid?” Grogu makes another happy sound, showing his dad that he would very much like some peaceful time too. Oh, and good food! Din smiles to himself as he sets the coordinates on the ship’s system.
“Hold on, Grogu. We’re entering hyperspace.”
Taglist:
@scorpio-marionette
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@supernaturalgirl
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Ok so actually only one of you asked to be tagged, but it's thanks to all of you who liked/rebloged the post where I questioned if I should write and if anyone would even read it that I gathered to courage to start writing and posting again. I'll only tag you in the introduction so you can decide if you'd like to see what happens next and ask to be tagged or not. Either way, thank you very much for the encouragement you've given me! <3
Summary: Din is being haunted by nightmares, and nothing you try seems to work in helping him. There's still something you haven't tried though, which will lead him to be even more thankful to you than he already was.
Genre: Fluff. Like, super fluff. Marshmallow fluff.
Song rec: Don't you dare (make me fall in love with you) - Kaden MacKay
Warnings: nightmares, but there's no description of them. Quick mention to alcohol and drug use.
Words: 5,1k
A/N: I highly recommend that you listen to the song. It's so beautiful and it fits the relationship between Mando and reader SO well.
A/N 2: I am so sorry it took me so long to post part VI, but I fell into a bad mental breakdown that completely stopped me from being able to write. Still, hope you enjoy this one because next part is not going to be so pretty eheheheheh
Part V; Masterlist
Come With Me
You could hear him shuffling on the bed from where you were laying on the couch. It had been hours since you all said your goodnights and headed to your sleeping spots. You couldn’t fall sleep though. Not due to the muffled noises coming from upstairs, no. At first, slumber just didn't come to you, but Din slept peacefully upstairs. That is, until the nightmares started.
It started with low, almost inaudible groans. Slowly they became complaints, words that you couldn't make out, but that were covered in anguish and despair. He called out for many things: for help, for his parents, for mercy. The memories of that dreadful day on Aq Vetina when Separatist droids raided the planet, causing the death of several civilians, including his parents.
He inhaled sharply all of a sudden and you knew he had woken up, breathing hard through his mouth, trying to recover from the turmoil his mind had made him go through once again. He sighed loudly, grunting, and since then he'd been turning and shifting on the bed, unable to fall asleep again.
It broke your heart to hear him go through this. You knew how frequent nights like this were, and it made your chest ache. If only you had the power to take all of his pain and suffering away...
A few minutes later you heard him get up, bare feet tapping the wooden floor, making the stairs creak as he made his way to the kitchen.
"They still haunt you..." you said from the couch as he filled a glass with water, all in the dark. He sighed once again.
"Yes..." he pondered as he drank the liquid "They're less frequent now. But they’re still there… I’m sorry that I woke you up" he said.
"You didn’t. I couldn't sleep.” you sat up, hearing him walk towards you and then carefully sitting down on the couch you were on.
“These nightmares had become rarer when we were together,” he admitted, and soon cleared his throat as he thought over his choice of words. “I mean, when—when I came to visit frequently, that is. But they came back all at once the moment I left…” you could hear the regret in his voice as he spoke. Parting ways had been as difficult for him as it had been for you, but you hadn’t talked about that yet. Remembering it was hard, and none of you knew what was ahead of you now, several years later. “Grogu helped a lot, though.” He broke the silence “That little womp rat has no idea how much he’s helped me.” He chuckled fondly and you smiled.
“I’m pretty sure he knows.” You assured him. You were certain that Grogu, however young, understood much more than he seemed to.
After a moment of silence, Din’s hand found yours in the dark, and you looked down at them in surprise even though you couldn’t actually see them. He got up and tugged your hand slightly.
“Come with me.” He said.
“Where?” You asked, confused, to which he chuckled.
“Upstairs. Remember what we used to do when I had nightmares?”
“Oh!” You exclaimed as you realized what he had in mind. “I—I hope it still works.” You said, pushing the blanket aside and getting up.
“I’m sure it does.” Din said, leading you towards the stairs “Careful now.” He let you go up the stairs in front of him, following closely behind, still holding your hand.
You were caught you by surprise when he placed his free hand on your hip. It was a protective gesture – he didn’t want you tripping and getting hurt for going up the stairs in complete darkness. But it made your heart skip a beat, and you swallowed, trying not to focus too much on his touch on you.
Once you made your way to the bed, you two got on it, making yourselves comfortable. That was much easier now that you had a double bed, unlike those years back.
“Comfy?” He whispered to you, trying to not wake Grogu up. The kid was fast asleep, tucked in on his floating crib by the bed.
“Yeah. Scooch in.” you answered, opening your arms for him to come closer.
Din approached slowly, being careful with his hands; he didn’t want to touch you anywhere that would seem inappropriate - he’d never do that, much less without your consent. He carefully placed an arm over your stomach, leaning in closer and laying his head on your chest. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. He was too big for you, always had been, but that had never been an issue to you. You liked it, actually. You liked it a lot, but never dared to express the other L word that lived in your heart.
When he felt your arms around him, holding him close, he couldn’t help but pull you closer too, burying his face deeper into your chest and taking a deep breath. It was like all of his worries and sad memories had melted away from his mind, and he fell in a state of peace that he hadn’t felt in years. He could feel your steady breath, and a heartbeat that was beating a little faster than normal, which made him smile to himself – his heartbeat was faster at that moment too.
You brought a hand up and began grazing your fingernails lightly on his scalp, drawing from him a satisfied groan that was impossible for him to hold back. You chuckled at that, and placed a kiss on the top of his head, and at that moment, Din was entirely sure nothing had changed between the two of you, regardless of a decade of immeasurable distance.
Bit by bit, you felt him sink deeper into you and the mattress, and as he felt heavier against your form, you could tell he had finally fallen asleep, a more than deserved rest. Soon after, you followed, a ghost of a smile across your lips as you relished in the thought and the feeling of the person that meant more to you than you could ever explain comfortably pressed against your body.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
11 years ago
For the fourteen days Din had been with you, he’d had only three nights where he was able to actually sleep well and rest. Being with you helped a lot - you calmed him down just by being in the same room as him. But there were times that were more difficult for him. He still had his ups and downs.
It was starting to show, though. He was tired, worn out, his mood swinging as daytime passed, and if you could see his face, you’d see his tired, red eyes surrounded by dark circles, his messy hair, and a few small cuts he’d made by accident when shaving, too tired to perform any task properly. In short, he was a mess.
You didn’t want to mention it directly. He didn’t like talking about his past and the nightmares that haunted him since he was a child. But it was painful to see him like that and not be able to do much about it. So, you decided to do what you could: you’d suggested going on longer walks, you took him out, you made him calming teas at night, suggested books with easy-flow and calming stories, and you even went hiking. Maybe if he was tired or relaxed enough at bedtime, he’d be able to have a good night's sleep. But nothing seemed to be working.
At this point, you didn’t know what else to do. You just wanted to tell him you were there with him and to hold him.
Hmm, you hadn’t tried that yet.
Realizing this, you remembered how you used to run to your mom’s bed when you were a kid every time you had bad dreams. She’d hold you close and run her fingers through your hair. That always made you calm down, and you were able to fall asleep peacefully after that.
You thought thoroughly about it during the day, wondering if it would be okay, if you wouldn’t be trespassing Din’s boundaries. You concluded that you had to give it a try, for his own sake.
You brought it up after dinner, when you were both resting in the living room. You were embroidering a small, round scenery full of flowers, and he was helping you by passing the different colored threads through the eyes of several needles. You had offered to teach him how to embroider a while ago, but he was an absolute mess at it. After several messy tries, he said he preferred to just thread the needles to help you out and watch you do it instead. You didn’t insist, of course, but told him to let you know if he ever changed his mind.
You were on the couch and he was by your side, sitting cross legged on the floor, the embroidery materials laid out on the coffee table.
“Din?” you called his name softly. He answered with a hum, eyes focused on the needle he was holding. “I was thinking about something. I hope you won’t mind.”
He turned to look at you, curious about what the subject could possibly be for you to say that.
“Go ahead.” He encouraged you.
“Well…” you brought the needle up to your eye level as you pulled the thread through the fabric, finishing a seam. You passed the needle through the fabric to keep it in place and dropped the embroidery frame to your lap. “We don’t talk about it. And I don’t mention it because I know you don’t like to bring it up. But…” you paused and sighed before continuing. “Your nightmares. They’ve become more frequent. And worse, it seems.”
Din looked away, feeling embarrassed by the situation even though he had no need to. He knew you had noticed. There was no way you wouldn’t, to be fair. He’s been more vocal during them, and the fatigue in him as he went through the day was impossible to miss, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
“A child could handle them better than I do, I know.” He scoffed at himself. “I’m sorry that I’ve bothered your sleep so many times now.” He said, without looking at you.
“No, Din, no. That’s not why I’m bringing this up now.” You put the embroidery frame away and dropped to the floor, sitting by his side and placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m worried about you. I tried many things to either calm you down before bed or tire you up during the day, but nothing’s worked. I can tell how exhausted you are, both physically and mentally. And we can’t risk it getting to you in the middle of a fight. You could be severely injured or worse, and I really don’t want that to happen. And I’m tired of laying on this couch, hearing you suffer all alone, and not being able to do anything about it.”
Silence fell between the two of you when you finished saying what you wanted to say most. He knew you were being sincere. He appreciated your concern and everything that you had silently done in an attempt of helping him. All of it meant more to him than he could ever put in words.
“I’ve tried so many other things to get them to stop in the past.” He said. “I’ve tried staying awake for as long as my body could take it before collapsing. I’ve tried getting drunk, and I’m glad we didn’t meet when I was doing so. You would’ve hated me then, always looking around for liquor and taking whatever drop of alcohol I could find. I’ve trying taking sleeping pills. First one, then two, and then several at a time… Nothing stops them. The nights they decide to haunt me, there’s not a single thing that can hold them back.”
You gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, looking at him as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the floor, ashamed to look at you.
“I don’t know what to try anymore, except for one thing. And I hope it works, because it’s driving me mad how I just can’t seem to be able to help you.” You confessed.
“You don’t have to worry about me like that, Y/N. It- It sucks. But I don’t want to be a burden to you. I’ll learn to live with it someday. I could sleep in my ship in the meantime so I won’t wake you up in the middle of the night anymore. I don’t you to be exhausted because of me.”
“Don’t even bother with that.” You told him. “I do worry about you. A lot. You mean so much to me, and I’d be a terrible person if I just ignored your problems and the things that are bothering you. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try to help you. You don’t have to learn to live with it. If there’s a solution, then we’ll find it. And I don’t mind spending some nights awake if it’s to help you feel better. Please, let me try.” You were almost begging him.
“I don’t want to bother you with it more than I already have.” He said in a low voice, stubborn to accept any kind of help, even if it came from you.
“It’s not a bother.” You said, sternly.
He looked away from you again, deep in thought and guilt. He felt like he didn’t deserve to be aided by someone like you. And he felt even worse thinking that he was a burden to you, the person that had looked after so many times, the person who gave him shelter whenever he came by, always greeting him with a big smile and arms open wide.
But he was tired. And he would have to admit it to himself sooner or later. He wouldn’t last long if things continued to be as they were now. And you were right, in his line of work, it was dangerous. After a couple minutes in complete silence and trying to avoid the feeling of your piercing gaze on him, he finally surrendered.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked, turning to look at you. You smiled, happy that he was accepting your help.
“It’s not much, but… You see, when I was little, I would run to my mom whenever a nightmare invaded my dreams. She’d hold me close, rub my arms to calm me down. And while I was with her, I knew nothing could get to me. And then I was able to sleep peacefully again.” You told him. “What I was thinking about was that, maybe, if you felt protected, then the nightmares couldn’t get to you.” You gave him a half, shy smile, followed by a subtle shrug of your shoulders.
It was a dumb idea. Childish even. You knew it. But it was worth a try. You weren’t his mother, nor related to him by any way. But there was no denying for how much you cared for him. The feelings you had for him only grew stronger each day, and you were determined to make him feel better and be happier, even though you knew you’d never be able to actually be with him. Given that, looking out for him was enough for you. Or so you tried to convince yourself.
“So, what do you suggest?” He asked again, and you chuckled lightly at his obliviousness.
Getting up, you walked to the light switch to turn the lights off, the warm clarity of the bedside lamp upstairs being the only source of light to guide your way. You walked back towards him and held out your hand for him to take.
“Come with me.” You said.
“Where?” he asked, confused, but taking your hand and standing up either way. He’d go wherever you lead him.
“Upstairs.” You chuckled lightly. “Let’s try something out.”
Holding his hand, you guided him up the stairs and to the bed, stopping by it and turning to face him again.
“I’ll hold you while you sleep, if that’s okay with you.” You revealed to him what he hadn’t been able to realize by himself yet.
His eyes grew wide under the helmet, and he could feel his heart immediately beating faster against his chest. He looked from you to the bed, and then back at you. He inhaled before answering you, not having realized he’d stopped breathing when he heard you.
“… Okay.” He simply said, not being able to say anything else. You smiled, happy that he agreed to your idea.
Pushing the covers aside, you sat on the bed first, reaching for the sleep mask he’d given you that lied on the nightstand. You were both in your pajamas already, as you did most nights, so there was no need to change clothes. You’d become close enough to wear whatever you wanted around each other and not feel uncomfortable or weirded out by it.
“So you can take your helmet of.” You explained, holding the mask up before fixing it on over your eyes. You laid down, getting yourself comfortable, and once you did, you opened your arms to invite him in. “Scooch in.”
He got nervous, despite the fact that you both had been physically very close to each other in the past, like when you danced, or when you watched the Aurora Borealis, and every time you hugged. You often found ways to touch one another and stay close. Too much for just friends, most would say. But holding back was something that had been left in the past, since none of you could do it anymore. This was different though. Much more intimate than all the other times.
He took off his helmet, placing it on the nightstand. Carefully, he climbed on the bed, and maneuvered his way around your body, panicking as he tried to not end up touching you in an inappropriate way. He very carefully and slowly laid his head on your chest and then threw his arm over your stomach, just under your breast.
You could tell he was holding back, afraid to touch you or even hurt you. He would get no rest if he spent the night completely stiff, all the muscles in his body tensed up. Embracing him with your arms, you pulled him closer, earning a surprised small inhale from him. He was big, and his shoulders were wide, so you had to press your arms around him in order to be able to hold him entirely. His heart rate went up, but he didn’t mind your gesture. You began stroking his back in little circles, lightly at first, but putting more pressure into it as you felt his tension start to melt away. As he relaxed, you brought your other hand up to his hair, twirling your fingers through his soft hair and caressing his scalp. That was what made him surrender himself completely into you. You could feel his whole weight on you now, and his muscles were relaxed. He nuzzled closer into your chest and held you tighter, breathing in and letting out a deep, satisfied sigh.
“Feeling better?” you asked him.
“Much better.” He mumbled against your chest, slumber quickly getting to his tired body and mind. You chuckled, and he loved to hear it resonating through your chest.
“Good. We’re at least on the right direction, then.” You said.
“Even if I still have nightmares tonight, I’ll at least have rested, that’s for sure” he admitted.
He started rubbing slow, small circles on your side, and a few minutes of silence went by before you spoke again.
“Often when you are off world and I can’t sleep, I open the ceiling windows so I can look at the night sky.” You told him. “I look up at the stars and wonder if I can see you coming back to me. If the shooting star that just crossed the sky could be a glimpse of the sunlight reflecting on the Crest. I miss you when you’re not around.”
He sighed at your confession, also being guilty of always wondering when he could get back to you himself.
“I miss you too.” He confessed. “I’m always looking forward for the moment I can fly back to you… I wish I could stay forever.”
“Me too…” you agreed. “But you know you can stay forever if you ever decide to, don’t you?”
“I do…” he paused for a few seconds. “Y/N?”
“Yes?”
“I—” He started, but stopped himself from saying those three little words that had been caught in his throat for so long now. No. Better not to say them. “Thank you.” He whispered instead.
You couldn’t help the smile that spread on your face, oblivious to the words he’d hidden from you.
“Don’t mention it.” You said and kissed the top of his head. He nuzzled into you more than he already had.
That night, Din slept peacefully like he hadn’t been able to in years. No dreams, but no nightmares either. Only the sound of your heartbeat in your chest, the crickets outside, and deep, deep sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You woke up slowly the next morning, laying on your side and tucked in under the blanket. The sleep mask was crooked on your face, but still covering your whole sight. You turned, laying on your back, starting to come to your senses. You couldn’t feel Din by your side, and given it was a single bed, it was unlikely that he was still there. Still, you reached out your arm to feel the mattress, just to make sure.
“Din?” you called out softly. You didn’t want to risk taking off your mask and seeing him still on the bedroom, helmet off.
“Down here.” He answered from downstairs, voice already covered by the synthesizer of his helmet. You were surprised that he had heard you though.
It was when you noticed a sweet, delicate smell in the air. It was good and made your mouth water, but it made you confused.
“Are you cooking?” you asked, voice louder now.
“Um…” he paused, assessing the mess in front of him. “Kind of.” He answered.
That was surprising and cute. You knew he lacked the skills to make a simple meal, frequently messing up scrambled eggs and even instant noodles. How he managed to mess up the latter was still a mystery to you.
“Do you need help?” You offered.
“No!” He was quick to answer, desperate even. “Sorry. Um, no, thank you.” He corrected himself.
“Okay.” You said, not sure if you should be amused or suspicious. Taking off your mask and putting it aside, you pushed the blankets off of you and spoke again. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
“No, no, no!” He almost shouted “Stay there!”
Alright, now you were definitely suspicious.
“Is everything alright down there?” You asked, frowning.
“It is. Just- Just stay there. Stay on the bed.”
You started picturing scenarios of all sorts, trying to figure out what was going on. Out of many things, one made you speak out again:
“Din, did you ruin my favorite pot?!” You heard him chuckle at you as he fumbled with things.
“No, I didn’t even touch it. Promise.” He said with a smile on his voice. “Are you still on the bed?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I’m coming up.”
You sat cross legged on the bed, watching as he started to show up the stairs. Once you could see his chest, you understood why he was being so mysterious. He was carrying a tray on which you could spot a glass, a cup and other things. He walked over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed and placing the tray carefully in front of you.
“I made you breakfast!” He said, cheerfully.
On the tray there was a plate with French toasts on it, sprinkled with sugar and cinnamon, a cup of hot coffee, a glass of juice, and a bowl full of fresh, red berries. It had all been gingerly placed, most likely planned too. But what got you the most was the small, delicate flower he had placed on top of the napkin.
“You did this for me?” You asked him, looking from the tray to him in awe, placing a hand on your chest.
“I, um, yes. I’m not very good at cooking, as you know. This is the only thing I could think of that I can do without, well, ruining it completely. And I still burned the first ones and had to throw them away. And the kitchen is a mess, but don’t worry, I’ll clean it later. Also, I cut my finger.” He held up his hand, showing you the injured finger, a band aid sloppily wrapped around it. You would have to fix that up later.
“It’s French toast, coffee, juice and fruit, how did you even manage to cut yourself?” You asked, grinning.
“I have no idea either” he admitted and you chuckled, making him chuckle with you. “Eat.” He said.
You picked a berry, savoring it and then having a sip of juice. When you put the second berry in your mouth, you realized something.
“We didn’t have any berries at home.” You said. “Where did you get them?”
“I went to the market. I know you like to have berries with your French toast.” If you weren’t already taken away by his kindness, you were even more now.
“How long have you been up?” It wasn’t too late in the morning, meaning he’d been up for some time now to be able to do all that before you woke up.
“A while.” He said, slightly uneasy. “I got nervous, so I got up early. Eat.” He told you to before you could have the chance to ask him why he’d gotten nervous.
You took a bite of the French toast, closing your eyes and humming in approval. They were the best you had ever had.
“What have I done to deserve this?” You looked back at him, taking another bite.
“I didn’t have any nightmares tonight, and I slept better than I have in years. I haven’t felt this well rested in ages, and it’s all thanks to you.” He told you. “I wanted to thank you.”
“You have no idea how happy I am to hear that from you.” You smiled fondly at him. “I’m so glad that you’ve finally rested. I’ll be honest, I haven’t slept so peacefully as I did tonight in a long time too. But I’m glad for you. I worry about your health, about you. And I hope the nightmares become less frequent now or don’t even show up anymore. I’m more than happy to help. But, really, this” you motioned to the tray in front of you. “I didn’t even do much. There was no need to thank me for that.”
“Of course there was. And it’s not just for tonight. I know you’ve been trying to help me with this for the past weeks. You know I don’t like to talk about it, so you didn’t mention it, doing your part silently. I noticed it all, and I am very thankful for that. And that’s only one of the many things you have done for me ever since we met. You are so good to me. It was about time for me to express my gratitude. If there’s anyone in here who’s not deserving of anything, it’s me.”
Din wasn’t very vocal, and he was not very good at showing, well, anything. Still, you knew how he felt. You knew he was aware of everything that went on between you two. You could see through him, helmet or not. He didn’t have to say a word, because you knew from his actions, from all the little things he did. He was thoughtful, kind, caring. He always had your back, just like you had his. But even if you knew he was thankful to you – as you were to him – it was nice to hear him say how he felt. It’s needless to say you were caught by surprise.
“You deserve the whole world and much more, Din.” You leaned forward to place your hand on top of his. “It’s very good to hear you say all that, but know there’s no need to thank me. I do it all because you matter to me and I want to see you well and happy. And I’m very grateful for all you have done for me, too. My life’s had a whole new meaning ever since the day I met you. You changed everything.” You gave his hand a gentle squeeze, looking at him fondly and giving him a warm smile. You knew he was smiling under the helmet too.
He got up and walked around the bed to sit by your side, doing his best to not disturb the contents on the tray too much. Once he was properly sat by your side, he pulled you into a tight hug, to which you quickly responded by wrapping your arms around him as well. As you pulled away, he gave the tip of your nose a very gentle tap with his finger, and you giggled.
You took another bite of your toast, followed by a sip of coffee. As you put the cup down, he chuckled, looking at you.
“What?” you looked at him, confused.
“There’s sugar on your lips.” He said.
“Oh.”
You were about to reach for the napkin when he held your chin gently, and wiped away the sugar with the thumb of his free hand. Maker only knows how much he wished to clean that sugar away by kissing your lips. You parted your lips slightly, gazing up at him in surprise – those beautiful eyes of yours did nothing to help him contain himself, but he did the best he could.
Looking away from you for a moment, he picked the flower from the tray and placed it behind your ear.
“Two beautiful flowers.” He said.
You felt yourself blushing hard, immediately looking away. You took another sip of coffee in an attempt to calm your nerves down, and a shy smiled appeared on your lips as you did so. Din didn’t miss it.
From that day on, there wasn’t a time that you didn’t sleep together, easily and peacefully falling asleep in each other’s arms. Din’s nightmares were gone.
"I love this idea! Could I have prompts "Is that my shirt?" and "Character A shows up on character B's doorstep, drenched head to toe. Character B is not amused." with, in honor of the Moon Knight finale, Poe Dameron? Friends with, recently added, benefits."
Gender Neutral reader
Words: 2.3k
Warnings: being tipsy; mentions of smut but no actual smut; shrimp?
A/N: we're almost on june 4th by now, but life's been a mess. I'm sorry about that. I haven't written for Poe in ages, so I hope I was able to catch his spirit.
The smell of freshly minced herbs filled the kitchen, bringing a smile to Poe’s lips. He loved the way they smelled. And he loved to cook – something that he didn’t get to do too often given his work with the Resistance, and especially now that he was a general.
He was on the first day of a very deserving vacation. It was going to be short – honestly, he didn’t want to be away for too long – but it was enough for him to get some rest.
It was the beginning of autumn, so it was rather cold outside. There was a torrential rain as well, large, heavy drops making loud sounds as they hit the floor and the window glass. But inside his home, Poe was cozy. There was music playing, the mise en place for his dinner was almost done, he had a good bottle of wine, and his glass was filled. He was at ease, and nothing could disturb him.
That is, until someone knocked on his front door.
He stopped his hands mid-chopping, moving only his eyes towards the source of the sound. The music on his speakers wasn’t too loud, but the rain was. Could it really be someone knocking? Maybe it was just the wind. He resumed chopping his herbs.
And there it was again.
This time there could be no mistaking, the knock was too loud. He put the knife down and pulled the dish cloth off his shoulder. “It better not be a damn problem…” he murmured to himself while cleaning his hands on the cloth and then tossing it over his shoulder again. Who else would be out there, under the rain and the cold night, if not for someone from the Resistance reaching out to him due to whatever problem that may have risen? The loud knocking was there again.
“I’m coming!” he shouted, rather tetchy.
When he opened the door, he was surprised to not see someone in Resistance uniform, but you, all dressed up, but drenched head to toe, makeup smudged under your eyes from the rain.
“Hello, there!” you said, cheerfully.
Oh, great. You had been drinking. He could tell because you had this particular way of greeting people whenever you drank. He couldn’t exactly explain it, but he could see it in the way you moved.
“What the hell?” He asked, in disbelief.
“I went out drinking with a friend and thought I’d come by to say hello, since, you know, your house is on the way.” You told him. “Hello!”
“Why are you drenched?” He asked again.
“There’s, like, a storm going on.” You pointed over your shoulder to the rain with your thumb.
“Yeah, I know. But why didn’t you wait for it to calm down or hail a cab?”
“We were waiting for the rain to stop, but it didn’t, so we just decided to face it.” You shrugged.
After staring at you for a few more seconds, he huffed and stepped aside for you to come in.
“You shouldn’t have done that. It’s dangerous.” He told you as he closed the door. “It’s windy, and there are lightning bolts. Something could’ve happened.” He crossed his arms, staring at you.
“Well, nothing happened.” You stated.
“But it could!” He insisted, sternly.
“Maker, you sound like my mom.” You said and he huffed again.
“Someone has to talk sense into your mind.” He responded. “You get reckless when you drink. I’ve told you not to drink alone. At least you’re not completely drunk.”
“I wasn’t alone, I was with a friend.”
“A friend who was drinking along with you and probably encouraging you to drink more.”
“Why are you being so dramatic about it? It’s not like you care that much.” The last sentence caught him, and he couldn’t understand why you’d say that.
“And why do you think that?” He asked you. You avoided his look and just shrugged. He sighed before speaking again. “Take your clothes off and go take a warm shower. I’ll get you a towel.”
He walked to his room to get a towel and you started to undress. When he came back, you were in your underwear only.
“Take those off too—” He started, but you cut him off.
“Ooh, something in mind, Poe Dameron?” You smiled mischievously at him.
“No.” he said simply. “I’ll throw your clothes in the dryer.” You made a pouty face at him, but he just stared back at you, not amused.
“Well, if you don’t plan on doing anything then don’t just stand there and stare at me while I undress.” You told him, getting more serious now.
“It’s not like I haven’t seem you naked before.” He said.
“Still!” You counteracted and he rolled his eyes, looking away from you and extending his hand with the towel to you.
You did as he said, taking off the remaining clothes and grabbing the towel from his hand. Maybe you shouldn’t care if he sees you naked now that you had benefits in your friendship, but to be fair, it was pretty recent, and strutting around naked in his house seemed different than having sex with him in a room with little to no lights.
You wrapped the towel around your body and started making way to the bathroom.
“Dinner will be ready soon.” He told you while grabbing all of your wet clothes from the floor.
“What will it be?” you stopped on the doorway to look back at him, curious about what it was that he was making. You had always loved his cooking.
“Shrimp pasta.” He half yelled, already making his way to the laundry room.
You silently celebrated with yourself; out of all the dishes he’s cooked that you’ve tried before, shrimp pasta was your favorite. Apart from the brownie, of course. It had unique ingredients in it, and he even called them ‘Poe’s Brownie Delights’.
Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water run through your body, letting it heat your skin and bones back up. Now that you were sobering up, thanks to the walking and the rain, you realized how cold it really was, and that Poe was right, walking on the streets with a storm above you on a cold night was a very bad idea. You wouldn’t confess that to him though.
Once you were done, you stepped off and dried yourself, wrapping the towel around your body again to walk to his bedroom. You now had a drawer of your own in his place, which you had brought some of your clothes and other personal items to fill with. He had done the same, having a drawer of his own at your place too. It made things easier, especially when the moments you shared together got too heated up, getting your clothes dirty or, sometimes, torn apart. That was mostly his doing. Well, because of that, you had no shirts left at his place. You were supposed to bring a couple more, but you had forgotten. You sighed, closing your drawer and turning to his wardrobe. Opening the door, you scammed it quickly to find the stack of shirts, and just grabbed the first one you saw. It was a white long-sleeved shirt with a quote from his favorite book on it, and it smelled dangerously like him.
After putting it on, you made your way to the kitchen. The table was already set for two, and by the smell of it, the food was almost ready. You took a seat and watched him cook. He grabbed a small spoon and picked some sauce from the pot, handing the spoon to you.
“How does it taste?” He asked. It was only when you tried it that you realized how hungry you were.
“It tastes delicious, as always.” You told him and handed the spoon back to him.
He took it from your hand and gave you a cute little smile. When he had turned away, he quickly turned back, looking at your torso.
“Is that my shirt?” He asked, squinting his eyes at the piece.
“Yeah. I have no shirts left here because someone tore them apart.” You raised an eyebrow at him.
“Hey, it’s not my fault that you looked so good in them, I had to rush in.” He shrugged and turned to turn the stove off.
“The least you could do was buy me new ones, you know?”
“What for? I just found out how good you look in my shirts.” He told you nonchalantly, looking over his shoulder to wink at you.
The sentence, followed by the act, made you blush, and you felt a familiar pressure on your lower body.
Escaping his gaze and trying to distract yourself, you reached for the bottle of wine to fill your glass. But Poe was faster.
“Nu-uh. You’ve had enough of this for tonight.” He grabbed the bottle from your hand and put it away, handing you a jar of juice instead.
You were about to retort when a loud thunder cut you off before you could say a word, and with that, the lights were out. Poe cursed in the darkness, and you heard him open a few drawers and fuss with whatever it was that was in them. He found what he was looking for, and soon the dim light of a lighter illuminated his face. He lit two candles and placed them on the table.
He turned back to the stove, retrieving the pot with the shrimp pasta from it and placing it on the table. It looked delicious, and it smelled wonderful. He served you first and then himself.
He sat down on his chair with a contented sigh. Finally, he was having the peaceful meal he had been planning for the entire week, counting down the days until his vacation.
After a few minutes of eating in silence – only interrupted by you to compliment his cooking skills every now and then – he giggled.
“What is it?” You asked him.
“Isn’t it romantic? You and me having a candlelit dinner, some wine, the rain falling outside…” He said, a dumb smile on his face. You stared at him with a confused look on your face.
“I thought it was you who said we shouldn’t make our relationship romantic.” You said.
“Uh- yeah. I know. I’m not saying we’re romantic. I’m just saying it’s a romantic setting.” He explained, but his voice was slightly off.
“Yeah, right.” You said, ironically.
He cleared his throat louder than he needed to, and you returned to eating in silence.
After you were done, you walked to the window on his living room. Through the glass, you watched the rain fall on the yard, having formed a few puddles and a couple frogs jumped around the grass. Your bodies were pressed together as you leaned on the window frame, and the warmth coming from him was comforting.
“You were right.” You said, and he hummed in response, looking at you to know what exactly you had meant. “This is quite romantic.” You admitted. He raised a brow at you and watched you, but smiled and turned back to the window. “I lied.” You told him after a few more minutes.
“I know.” He said, without looking away from the window.
“You don’t even know what it is that I lied about.” You contested.
“About coming by to say hello because my house is on the way? I know.” He said and you looked at him in surprise. How could he know? He giggled when he looked at your confused face as you stared at him. “I know the bar you go to. My place is not on the way back. It’s the opposite.” He smiled to himself as he told you so.
He was right. The bar was not on the way to his place, and not even that close to be honest. You walked there, semi drunk, under a storm, just because you wanted to see him. But now that he had admitted reading through you so easily, you didn’t feel like admitting that to him anymore. So you just stood there silently.
“Why do you think I don’t care about you?” He asked, regarding your previous statement from when you arrived.
“I don’t know. We’re friends, but we agreed on having benefits. I guess I just assumed you didn’t care that much about me, given that this kind of relationship don’t normally happen between people who care too deeply about each other.” You didn’t know if it made sense, but that’s the only way you could think of to explain it to him. He pondered about it for a second.
“Well, that’s not true. Not to me, at least. I’m not only interested in you for sex. We’ve been friends for a long time now, and we’re friends before we’re anything else. I do care about you.” He told you, and he meant it.
You looked up at him as he spoke, and smiled when he finished his words.
“I care about you too.” You told him.
He stepped behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.
“Yeah, I know that too. It’s hard for someone not to care about me when I look this good.” He said, holding back a smirk. You rolled your eyes and laughed. “But you know what looks better than me?” Well, that was new. What could Poe possibly consider to be better looking than him?
“What?” You looked up at him.
“You.” He kissed the back of your neck. “With my shirt on.” He kissed your shoulder. “On my bed.” He kissed the sweet spot on your neck, and you melted.
“And you on top of me is a beautiful sight as well.” You told him, eyes closed as you leaned onto him.
He groaned against your skin, picking you up and immediately taking you to his room.
