#black ladder back chairs with rush seats

[jawnwutson]

Kitchen Dining - Dining Room An illustration of a small eclectic kitchen/dining room combination with beige walls.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Fall in Love in A Night

James Potter x Black!Reader

Say You Won't Let Go James Arthur

Masterlist

Summary: College AU, Muggle AU, James falls in love with the some of the worst parts of you, his best friends sister }

Wc- 3529

Cw: FIRST DRAFT - Not proof read- Use of {Y/N}, sexual themes and scenes, cussing, Sirius is kinda a butt and broken hearted, Amos Diggory slander, Pandalily, insecurities}

One party, one night. You promised your friends when you went to the Gryffindor dormitories past curfew, this was a one party, one night, thing. 

You never really drank, you never really partied, you never really “had any fun,” Marlene would mock you. In all fairness, your oldest brother partied enough for the both of you. He would usually blow his top at the idea of you drinking in the lion's den, surrounded by bold and cocky red scarves. But he was at home, spending time with Remus.

The only reason you came, however, was because Lily promised to be by you the whole night. That, and well, your most recent break up. You would do anything to get the absolute arse that was Amos Diggory out of your mind.

You didn't know why you trusted that, because the moment she saw Pandora she was in another universe. Following the blonde around and hanging on her every word. It would be cute if she didn't abandon you five shots in. 

Well, you had other people to entertain you at least. You had spent the better half of your night sobering up enough to listen to Arthur Weasley, a teacher's assistant, explain an admittedly simple muggle board game, going off the two girls that had since abandoned them at the table.

You didn't want to kill his vibe, but Molly Prewett was most definitely flirting with him all night, and he seemed too enraptured with the cardboard on his lap then what could have been there instead. Again, it was none of your business, and you were just happy the hardass was having fun. 

They were so painfully obvious about it. Molly had asked him to reexplain things several times, batting her eyelashes at the fool, and he was none the wiser as he explained it. He was too patient and dumb for your liking. Still, he extended the same courtesy to you, who was equal parts frustrated and amused. 

“So.. it's called Shoots and Ladders?" You mumbled, for the fourth time tonight, leaning your cheek against your palm and looking up at him with ever dwindling hope that he would say something even a little interesting. Anything to not look completely awkward and alone.

You knew he liked his muggle arts, but genuinely, it was not that fascinating. Shoots go down and Ladders go up as they tend to do. How enrapturing.

"Arthur, would you like to dance?" You asked and Arthur smiled at you, toothy and shy, “I uhm.. yeah, yeah, I'd like to dance.” 

“Good. Because Prewett has been staring for over an hour waiting for you to ask her.” You gestured across the room and the older boy looked over. Instantly making eye contact with Molly who looked away quickly. It finally seemed to click for him and he wet his lip, standing up.

“Has she been-”

“All night.”

“Truly?”

“Do you really think that game is that interesting?” You mused and then slowly smirked. “Don't answer that.”

“I am a moron.” He muttered with puffed up cheeks and you threw your head back with a low groan. He hurried after Molly who was now playing coy. Alone, again. At least your friends were having fun.

Your eyes scanned the room and they locked on a familiar figure. Damn it. 

You quickly began to stand and gather your purse, before he walked up to stand beside you. It could be seen as friendly, but he was right between you and any viable exit from your seat. You closed your eyes and gave a small sigh before looking up at him. “Diggory? Excuse me, I was just heading home.” You huffed.

“Woah woah, what's the rush?” He smiled in his usual sickeningly sweet drawl. You rolled your eyes as he leaned his arm on the back of your chair. Even as drunk as you were, the smell of alcohol on his breath turned your stomach in an unpleasant way. “Come on, you've hardly even touched the dance floor. Why not one more dance? I'll leave you be, swear it.”

You stared at his offered hand and for a moment truly thought about it. Were you drunk enough for this? 

"Diggory, I don't think that's-" Before you could finish with her puffed up cheeks, someone cleared their throat. 

"Hey! {Y/N}, right?" A voice cut in. You and Diggory looked over to see no one other than James Potter. Now, you knew him, you knew him from the several heart breaking attempts at trying to win over your dearest friend Lily Evans. Now, you hadn't seen him in quite a while, after Lily finally broke and told him she liked girls. You felt horrible at the look of absolute mortification when he realized she was not, indeed, playing hard to get. She just truly wasn't interested in him. You still saw him on occasion, seeing as his best friend was your brother. Not that you were allowed near your brother’s friends, he had threatened them with violence unknown if they tried anything, even being near you was a crime in his eyes.

Which begs the question, why was he suddenly here? “{Y/N} Black? I hope you remember me.” He cheeked and you couldn't help but smile a bit. Why was he so nervous? You've talked before. Must be the impending Black Wrath. And who could possibly forget the James Potter?

You glanced up and looked between Diggory and him for a moment before you popped your tongue and leaned back. "Yeah, of course I do." You tried to joke, coming out a bit slurred. Wow. You don't realize how strong fire whiskey was. You attempted to stand up again and this time Diggory relented and let you pass. You stood in front of James, and he rubbed the back of his neck. His face was flushed and his words were stammered, he must have been just as drunk. 

"It's nice to meet-" He seemed to pause and he looked startled at his own slip up. “N-not that I don't know you, well, you know me. I hope- I hope you know me. Well, you said you know me, just-”

You held your hand up and he stared at you with wide eyes and flustered cheeks so dark you were sure he would pass out. He seemed both thankful and distressed that you stopped him. You were doing your best to hide a cheeky smile. “Rewind.”

“How far?” He whispered.

“Hm.. as funny as most of that was, let's start back at, ‘of course I do’.” You smirked this time and he seemed to sigh in relief.

“Thank Merlin.” He mumbled and clenched his chest. You laughed.

“That's not my name.” You mused and leaned a bit closer. You had to admit, he was cute. Very cute.

He gave a laugh at this and shook his head. Turning to look behind you before his tense shoulders relaxed. “There we go. He's gone.” James muttered and you turned to look back and saw Amos trailing off to go talk to some other girl. You shrugged it off, you were busy now.

“Are you alright? He seemed a bit..”

“Pushy? Yeah. He's.. he's interesting.” You sighed and straightened your back a bit. You were surprised when your brother nearly hexed him on the spot when he found out you two were seeing each other. Now? You understood completely. 

He was a rake. Flirted with anything with legs and called you delusional when you spoke up about it. Well, you can't exactly hide walking in on him and Rita Skeeter in his dorm room. You don't know what you were more mad about, catching them in bed together or seeing Rita Skeeter naked.

“Yeah, he's.. a piece of work.” He mumbled and you shrugged it off, his eyes drifting back to you and locking.

You stared at him for a moment and slowly tilted your head. He looked like he was building confidence for something. You could see a million different thoughts in his head as his eyes searched yours.

“James-”

“At risk of humiliating myself further,” He muttered quickly, and offered you his hand. You stared at it bewildered before you looked back up at him. “Would you like to dance?”

Your eyes searched his for some ulterior motive. What was the sudden change for? James never paid particular attention to you but the way he was looking at you right now.. 

Now, these parties ended in one of two things, a hookup or a make out session. At least, that's what your brother always told you. Amos didn't show you any different, and coming here, if you said yes to James you had a small nagging feeling that was where this was headed.

“.. Why not, Potter?” You smiled and took his hand. He gave a look, smiling so wide his dimples caved into a fold. Merlin he was really really cute.

~~~

You couldn't lie, you were having the time of your life. Dancing and twirling on the floor with James, you two had a bit of a rhythm, dancing off beat at times as you got so wrapped up in your own ridiculous little worlds. Taking shots and practically joint at the hips all night.

As it went on you got more comfortable. The space between you was shrinking, and his hands slipped from your waist to your hips. You both were practically grinding on each other at points, neither of you daring to step back. It felt warm. Everything was warm. His hands, his breath, his body. You felt like fire, and you wanted so much more.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the break up, maybe it was the fact that you knew it would piss off your brother, but you tugged James out of the party and into the halls, instantly your body was cooled by the night wind slipping in from the windows.

Out in the hall you pulled James down into a kiss. It felt like sparks were set off on your skin. He grabbed your hips and walked you back into a wall, both of you were both far too absorbed in one another to even think. You felt like you were on cloud nine. You had snogged before, of course you had, but his large hands all over you, his lips on yours, bruising the skin, as he commanded the kiss, the way he held you so secure, you about died. 

You broke away slowly, tugging him closer towards a broom closet not too far away from where you stood. He gave a chuckle and shook his head, your drunken mind could only pout. He quickly took your cheeks and kissed you again, stifling any whines before he broke the kiss and smiled sweetly at you. "I'm not taking a girl like you in a broom closet." He smirked, you opened your mouth to protest before he quickly interrupted. "Especially," He dragged out every syllable, "While you're drunk, darling. Let's get you home, yeah?" He asked and you melted into his hands, still pouting but giving in.

James stared at you for a moment before he began to lead you down the steps in front of the campus dorms. 

The wind was sharp and cold on your burning skin, worse than inside. You swayed as you stepped, James didn't hesitate to grab your waist and help you down the stairs. Out of the rare coherent thoughts you had; you were just glad you didn't wear heels. 

A part of you felt bad, for being such a mess and having James Potter, your brother's best friend, a guy you personally hardly knew, taking care of you. But with his hand around your waist so secure you couldn't bring yourself to think twice about it. Your head lulled back and you smiled at him. You knew you must look a sight, sweaty, bug eyed, your eyelids kept sagging and your baby hairs clung to your skin through the sweat. 

You knew you didn't look pleasant at least. Your eyes slowly shut and let out a hum, whining as James pulled away, losing his warmth when he did, only to melt as his jacket covered your shoulders. Eyes slowly opening to look up at his blurry figure.

He gave you a smile when he knew you couldn't see, it was gentle and it was affectionate. You both began to walk. You didn't know where, too wasted to even remember James didn't know where your dorms were. He had his arm around your waist and kept you still, not planning on moving anytime soon as you let him take on your weight, the liquor making it harder to think straight. You staggered and stumbled but he was always there to keep his grip on you. Always catching you. You could almost forget he was wasted too.

You felt humiliated and embarrassed when your mind grew sober. You spent the night trying your absolute hardest to forget your ex and now you were making James pick up the pieces. You dance the night away with your brother's best friend, and he wouldn't even have you. Now, you were forcing him to take you home because they were both far too drunk to drive and she was too stupid to call her brother for a ride. 

The thoughts spun in your head and you felt bile raising in your throat. You gagged and covered your mouth, quickly stumbling out of his arms to the grass of the park you were stumbling past. Kneeling over some bushes and vomiting with some very unpleasant sounds. You slowly fell to your knees and resisted the urge to sob.

It was official, you hated tonight. All of it. You began to throw up more, and you felt his hands comb your hair back to gather it up, one of his other hands rubbing your back. Your stomach churned painfully and you let out the sobs you held back. You always forget how much this part hurts.

Merlin what the fuck was wrong with you? Your brother was right, you shouldn't be dating until you're at least 100. Hopefully James is too drunk to be crossed with you. You slowly looked back at him with your pout and tried to wipe off your face, he produced a packet of napkins from his pocket and began to try and clean your lip. Fucking hell- now he was babying you.

Your wobbling eyes looked up at him and your breath caught in your throat. His eyes held something you hadn't seen before.

He was smiling, clearly still tipsy himself, hiccuping into his palm. You were stunned to see how fond his smile was. "You're bloody breathtaking. Do you know that?." He whispered to you and slowly pulled you into his chest despite your protests of how nasty you must have looked. 

He curled his leg forward and let you lean your full weight on it. He rubbed your back as you laid rag dolled against him. He let you collect yourself. 

It was getting colder, and later, but neither of you seemed to even think about the weather, the people passing by, the street lights turning off. You both just stared at each other before beginning to devolve into a fit of giggles. He grabbed your cheeks and began to pepper your face with kisses. You scrunched up your nose and laughed, quickly returning a few of your own. "How'd I get so lucky?" He mumbled and you were once again floored by his response.

"I-" You began to let your tears fall down your face, trying to dry them quickly, not wanting him to fuss over you anymore then he already was. Once again, this enigma of a man slowly cupped your cheeks and pulled you into a proper kiss. You didn't even think to protest considering the acid in your throat that still lingered. He didn't seem to care.

James Potter was a mystery. People talked about his kindness, his big heart, his utter stupidity. You were sure all of those things were true. Who kisses a drunk girl in the middle of a busy city sidewalk? On the grass as if she was the only person alive?

You were sure he had no shame.

The truth was, he didn't. James was fucked. He fell, and he fell hard. He knew he liked you for a while. You were probably one of the only people who looked at him like that. Like you wanted more of him. Like you wanted to know him. Sirius never noticed his little crush, thank Merlin. James thought it was gone, he focused on obtainable girls, but bloody hell here he was. With this studious and quiet girl, always looked her best, always sassy and calm, smart but never flashed it about. You were the opposite of him, he never thought it would work.

When he first saw you interact with Amos, he knew he wanted you. when he was told he cheated, he never felt so much bubbling anger. Even Sirius noticed, but James managed to play it off as just another quorum of his big heart. Dating his best friend's sister was nothing maintainable. Even as he had to watch you date absolute losers, watch them get what he wanted more than anything. Even then, it was always just a crush. Something he couldn't be too consumed over.

But now? You were the most bare, raw human to him, exposing every part of yourself intentionally or not, and he didn't know his heart could clench so hard. He didn't know a crush could turn to love only took two hours. 

"Come on, pretty girl. Let's get you home." He whispered and stood up, helping you up as well and you got back to walking. 

It was a long and peaceful walk, it was charming, tumbling over each other and laughing most of the way there. You could feel it, something changing in your chest. Looking up at him and noticing his chiseled jaw and handsome features, his dark clear face sent you into a daze, and when you saw his charming hazel eyes you were done for. You could easily forget this was James Potter.

Yeah. For you, it took four years of being love blind, three months to get over it, and, of course two hours to fall in love. You kept staring at each other as he walked you up to the door. Biting your lip as he knocked on the door. You fiddled with your skirt. "Do you think they are up?"

"Mhm.. doubt they've done much sleeping.." You mumbled and slowly looked back up at him. When did you get so shy? You bit his lip at the discovery he never looked away. 

"... please tell me we'll talk again." His voice was low and sweet. But he sounded so desperate. "Even if it's just a hello in the halls."

"I promise." You whispered so quickly you almost interrupted his next declaration. Not even noticing as the door opened.

“I think I'm in love with you.”

You stared up at him with parted lips and wide eyes. James looked like a nervous, flustered mess. Absolutely wrecked. It took one walk. One walk and you ruined him. 

“I-”

“Absolutely fucking not!” Sirius shouted and grabbed you by your arm, yanking you into the apartment. 

James paled and stared at Sirius like a deer in headlights. Sirius looked ready to kill.

“Sirius-”

“You,” He pointed at James’ chest sharply as your brother practically shoved you at Remus who gave you a sympathetic look. “I'm not going to warn you again. Stay the fuck away from my sister, mate.”

With that, he slammed the door in James' face. 

James stared at the door, still trying to gather himself. He hadn't even realized he said that out loud. He was frozen. What were you going to say? Would you call him crazy? Reject him? Make a fool of him? You just.. you never seemed so shy before.

His heart was a mess but the final nail in the coffin. He could hear your voice on the other side of the door. Growing closer. Like you were fighting to get there.

The door suddenly jerked open and your eyes widened as you saw him still standing there.

He was startled, still far too much heat to his head, frying his brains.

“I-I fancy you, Potter!” You declared and you watched in slow motion as his clueless look slowly lit up into. Bright dazzling smile. 

“James, please, for the love of Merlin call me James.” He pleaded and you gave him the same dazzling drunk smile.

“Jamie.” You cooed, James was a goner, and Sirius finally managed to slam the door closed, much to both of your disappointment.

This time, James had the sense to leave. He did not want to be here when Sirius snapped.

He, still tipsy, reached for his pockets as he walked back towards the campus, and he threw his head back with a laugh. 

His bloody keys were in his jacket pocket.

[hunnythebee]

Stow Away

Chapter 2: The First Night

Her first night aboard the Razor Crest, and her first time on a planet that isn't Tatooine in a long time. Interacting with the Bounty Hunter is not quite what she had suspected... maybe this won't be so bad.

Warnings: Threats, some cursing, MC being embarrassed easily, Mando being stoic.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Masterlist

A/N: I am so amazed at how much love my first chapter got in one week. When I decided to post, I really wasn't expecting anybody to read it. Hopefully you will all enjoy this one and future chapters as well! I look forward to writing for all of you.

“Why didn’t you say anything back on Tatooine? You must have known when you saw me,” her voice was shaking.

He shrugged. “You weren’t one of mine.”

“But you know about the bounty…”

“Yes.”

“And you will turn me in if I don’t cooperate with you?”

“Yes.”

“So you’re holding me hostage.”

“To be fair, you stowed away on my ship.”

“Still!”

“If you want, I could still just collect your bounty anyways,” the holster clicked open.

“On second thought, what have I got to lose?”

“Good answer. There’s a spare cot over there,” he motioned behind him. “Set it up wherever you want. We will be landing on Nevarro soon, so come up to the cockpit when you’re done.” And with that, he left to climb the ladder, taking Grogu with him.

She rushed to the refresher. She felt sick, like the galaxy had flipped upside down and she was falling through the void. She splashed cool water onto her face and stared in the mirror.

“Could be worse…” she told herself with a half-hearted chuckle, “could still be on Tatooine.”

After finding the cot Mando had mentioned, she proceeded back up the ladder into the cockpit. Mando was seated in the pilot seat, and the only other seat was taken by the kid. She walked over to the co-pilot's chair and looked down into his big black eyes. Grogu reached his hands out to her, and her heart melted a little. She obliged, picking him up and taking his seat in return. She fastened her restraint and seated him in her lap. His little hand found the necklaces that dangled from her neck and began twisting and playing with them.

The landing was rough, the Razor Crest being as old as she was, that was no surprise. Mando stood from the pilot seat and headed back down the ladder. She remained in the cockpit for another minute, holding Grogu to her chest and staring out the observation shield. The planet was far from beautiful, covered in ash and dust. Molten lava oozed down nearby cliffs and flowed into rivers that spiderwebbed through the desolate plains. She stared for so long because it wasn’t Tatooine. Tears threatened her cheeks, which she quickly wiped away at.

Once she was back down the ladder, Grogu sitting happily on her hip, she was greeted with the silent stoic presence that was the Mandalorian. He was seated on the edge of his bunk, the door completely open. It was night in Nevarro City, he was probably going to rest before heading out to complete his business. She made her way over to her cot and sat down as well, facing him from several feet away. He stared at her for a moment longer than she was comfortable with and she realized he was probably looking at the kid.

Grogu had fallen asleep, his hand still clasped on her necklace. It was one of her favorites, it being one of the few that she actually had sentimental attachment to, but she unclasped it from her neck and let the chain drape over his nubby fingers. She moved him into his cradle, which was floating near her cot for convenience. She tucked him in, a small smile on her lips, and then turned back to face the Mandalorian. His gaze remained unchanged, fixed on her. It made her feel small, like a tiny creature being preyed upon by a ferocious beast. She stood, grabbed her sack, and locked herself in the refresher.

She hoped taking a shower would pass enough time for Mando to go to sleep, or at the very least go away. The water felt amazing, washing away all the sands of Tatooine. She had never felt cleaner. She hadn’t brought any soaps with her since all the soaps had belonged to Peli, so she made do with what Mando had. She picked up a bar and began to wash herself with it. The aroma filled the refresher. It smelled of incense and spices, like a market she had been to on Naboo. She held the bar to her nose and breathed deeply. The scent made her feel relaxed, which was welcomed right now.

After drying off and changing into fresh clothes, a dark linen tank, and loose pants that cinched at her ankles, she exited. The hold was dark. The only light source was the light shining in from the refresher. The door hissed shut behind her, and she was bathed in pitch black darkness. Unable to see two feet ahead of herself, she tripped and stumbled her way to her bunk. She felt extremely ridiculous when she walked face first into a wall, which was strange because she was certain that there hadn’t been a wall before. Then, the wall grasped her shoulders and turned her away from it.

Not a wall.

Her embarrassment bloomed across her cheeks as she realized she had slammed head first into her new employer. She didn’t realize what he was doing when he started to push forward into the darkness, but she had no choice but to follow his guidance. The movement stops, and she is spun around once again. To face him, she assumed. Her blood pulsed so loud in her ears that it was deafening. His hands moved to her waist, and she was pushed back, falling into the darkness. She had landed square on the foot of her cot. Her eyes must have looked wild, searching the dark for the man that had just guided her. 

“Sleep.” His voice commanded through the dark. 

He blended in so well he could have been a disembodied voice for all she knew, except he had just been touching her, so there was definitely a body. She sighed and crawled into her cot, discovering a blanket on it that had not been there before.

Did he put this here?

She lied back, a sudden wave of exhaustion crashing into her. She pulled the blanket up around her and yawned, feeling sleep coming. The last thing she remembered before drifting off was noting that the blanket smelled the same as the soap, mixed with a slightly more earthy scent.

When she awoke, Mando was already up, that is, if he had slept. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders as she stood up. She glanced over at the cradle where Grogu was still fast asleep, her necklace still tangled in his tiny hand. She trailed back over to the Mandalorian, who still had not noticed she was awake. She watched quietly for a moment while he meticulously cleaned his rifle. Then her stomach began to hurt, and she realized she was ravenous. She cleared her throat lightly to alert him of her consciousness. He didn’t turn around to greet her, but he did speak softly.

“Morning.”

“Morning. Did you sleep alri-”

“Didn’t sleep.”

“Oh.” A chill ran down her spine. “Then, um… what did you get up to then?”

“Patrolling.”

“Oh, that… makes sense.”

Silence fell between them as she searched through the cargo for some food, with no luck. Her stomach audibly growled, and she shushed it. Mando caught the interaction and laughed quietly to himself. She didn’t catch it because Grogu was awake. His big eyes peered out from his crib, and he reached out to her, cooing happily. She lifted him up and placed him on her hip.

“Hey there, little guy,” she said to Grogu, “Did you sleep well?”

He giggled while she bounced him lightly.

“Y' hungry?”

His eyes lit up at the mention.

“Me too. Say, do you know where your dad keeps the food hidden?”

The kid kriffing nodded. He could understand her. He pointed in a direction a little ways past the ladder to the cockpit, and she followed his lead. She walked past the Mandalorian, his gaze following her as she moved. Again, she just assumed that it was because he’s protective of the kid. Around the corner was a small galley with a small nanowave stove and a couple of cupboards that should have had food in them, but they were sparse. She still managed to find a few items that she could whip together for something that resembled a meal.

After she finished cooking, she carried two bowls of the stew concoction over to Mando and Grogu. Grogu’s eyes lit up with joy, and he dove straight in. Mando, on the other hand, just stared at the bowl. She left, returned with a bowl of her own, and perched on a nearby crate as she ate.

“What’re you waiting for?” She asked, mouth half-full

“I didn’t ask for any.”

“I just thought you might be hungry. If you don’t want it I can always just throw it back in the pot it’s not a both-”

“No!” He snapped, catching her offguard. “I mean… No… It’s just I can’t.”

She’s confused now. “What do you mean ‘can’t’? It’s just food for maker's sake.”

“It’s not that. I can’t show my face.”

“Oh… and you kind of need your mouth to be able to eat.”

He was silent.

“Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” She said, standing from her spot and grabbing Grogu from his place next to Mando, his bowl having been licked clean already. She settled back down on the crate she had previously been on, this time with her back to the Mandalorian. “Better?” She asked over her shoulder.

“Yes, but–”

“Shut up and eat bucket-head.”

The interruption took him by surprise. Her boldness was starting to show despite the fact that he had threatened her life last night. He quietly admired this, vowing she would never know that. He lifted his helmet up, keeping it balanced on his head, and ate the stew.

“Y’know Mando,” she spoke up again, keeping her back turned, “You have very little food. I was thinking of going to the market here to pick up more.”

“No.” His voice is unmasked, unfiltered. She wasn’t expecting it to sound so smooth.

“So what? You’re really gonna keep me on this ship forever?” She said, her voice bordering on aggressive.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then why?”

“Because,” his voice was masked again, “Too many Bounty Hunters here.”

“Oh.”

“You will need to hide.”

“What?!”

“Unless you want to get caught. Karga will send his men to retrieve the bounties from the storage. You need to make yourself invisible.”

“Got it. Invisible. I can do that.”

He laughed, which sounded foreign coming from him. “Sure.”

“Hey! It’s not like this ship has a lot of options.”

He didn’t say anything in response. Instead, he just stood and collected the bowls, grabbing hers as well and taking them back to the galley.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Masterlist

[diamond-coral]

Play by the Rules

Steve x Reader, Tony x Reader, Implied Steve x Reader x Tony

Summary: Working for the powerful CEO, Tony Stark, was a nightmare. Especially when you have to deal with his new, and equally as powerful, partner; the CEO of S.H.I.E.L.D. Inc., Steve Rogers. You have a plan to leave it all behind, but Tony has his own plans for you.

This is my first writing for @ darkficsyouneveraskedfor and @ harper-emory-writes Dark Bingo challenge: crossing off the squares Blackmail and CEO AU. I’m nowhere near a bingo but I’m super excited that I’ve started !!

Warnings: 18+ only! NON-CON/DUB-CON(ORAL (M RECEIVING), INTERCOURSE, MENTION OF ANAL), BLACKMAIL, VOYEURISM, sexism in the workplace, swearing.

 “We’ll review the new contract with S.H.I.E.L.D. today during the meeting. I’ll need two printed copies of it as well as a printed copy of our current one with Asgard Corp.” Tony snaps his fingers in front of your face. “Y/n, are you even listening to me?”

You look up from your notepad. “Of course, Mr. Stark. Just taking notes.”

Tony scoffs. “Wasn’t half the reason I hired you your ability to retain information without wasting time by writing things down?Since when did you start taking notes?”

Since I became willing to do anything to not have to look at you and remember that you were balls deep in me just last week.

“I’d just like everything to go smoothly for this meeting. I understand it’s a big deal for the company and for you, sir.”

Tony studies your face. “Well in the spirit of dedication, I’ll need you to stay a couple hours extra.”

You try to avoid scrunching up your features at that. Although you had been looking forward to curling up on your couch when you got home, you would never dare counter your employer, so you just nod.

“Rogers will be here in an hour,” he continues. “I’m expecting you to greet him, so I’ll have an intern go out and get you an outfit.” 

“With all due respect, Mr. Stark, I believe the attire I’m currently wearing is satisfactory, is it not?”

Tony eyes your black blazer and pants paired with flats. “It’s not,” he states as he gets up from his chair across from you at your desk and fixes his tie. After pausing to consider your confused look, he elaborates. “You gotta show some more skin, sweetheart. It’s the only way a woman like you will be able to make it out here.”

Your mouth falls open as he turns and leaves you to process his offensive comment.

“Bastard,” you mumble.

You could run Stark Industries in your sleep. In fact, Tony had already appointed you head of three separate divisions as well as let you bring a few of your own original projects and ideas to life in the years you had been here. You saw your own potential and Tony had been generous enough to help you expand and experiment with it. A couple more years and you could leave Stark Industries behind to start your own company with the connections you’d already made.

Which is why you remained compliant with Tony’s every demand. No matter how much it hurt your pride (especially when a drunk hookup with him practically destroyed your pride), nothing would compare to the sweet victory of running Tony’s company into the dirt when you started your own. You did your own projections. Tony wasn’t short of enemies, and with their help and your own skill set, you’d make double the profits Tony did in half the time.

So you put up with the touches, grabs, and comments from Tony. He had such a large company to run that he barely noticed that the three divisions he absentmindedly handed to you were the most successful. You’d giggle and bat your eyelashes as long as Tony didn’t notice you practically undermining his company.

Play by the rules,

But be ferocious.

_________________________

Twenty minutes later you’re interrupted from your pile of paperwork by a soft knock.

“Come in!” you call out.

A boy with short brown hair lets himself in. You’d seen him around as Tony’s shadow.  

‘What was his name again? Patrick? Pietro? Pierre?’

“Oh, Peter! How can I help you”

“Hey, Ms. L/n, Tony asked me to bring this up to you.”

Peter holds up the clear dry-cleaning bag, and it takes all your effort not to grimace at the short black pencil skirt inside. Instead, you give him a tight-lipped smile.

“You can just leave it on that chair, thank you,” you say.

As Peter leaves you get up to inspect the clothing Tony so graciously provided for you, and you notice a note attached.

leave a couple buttons undone ;)  -TS

Scoffing, you throw the note in the trash as you pick up the clothes and lock your door.

You’d begrudgingly play a little eye candy knowing you’d get your revenge in a couple years.

But how much could this escalate in a couple of years? 

“Stop it,” you mutter to yourself while pulling on the black blazer.

Once you're finished changing, you receive an alert that Steve Rogers had checked into the building. 15 minutes early.

You hadn’t even met the fucker and you already hated him.

________________________________

“Mr. Rogers!” you greet the blonde in a painfully cheery voice. “You’re early!”

“Well, this is an important meeting, sweetheart,” he replies, and you cringe at the pet name, handing him a clipboard and pen.

“This is just a quick confidentiality contract, Mr. Stark would like you to sign,” you inform. “Basically just saying you agree not to share any contents of the meeting or contract to any outside parties until you and Mr Stark have solidified and confirmed all aspects of your partnership.”

“Ah so Stark is already confident he’ll get a partnership with my company?” Steve muses and scribbles his signature. He looks up, handing the clipboard and pen back to you, and you motion for him to follow you down the hall.

“So what’s your role here exactly?” Steve asks, following behind you. “Are you an intern, receptionist...maybe a call-girl?”

You don’t bother turning at his teasing remark, instead answering calmly. “I run the three most successful divisions here, Mr. Rogers.”

“Impressive,” he remarks, but it sounds more of a mock from him. “And Stark still keeps you as an assistant.”

Your brows furrow at that comment. “How do you know I’m an assistant? And why would you ask what I did here if you already knew?”

“Women like you are just so fun to rile up. Stark and I had a meeting earlier in the month, and he talked of you very fondly.”

Well that didn’t sit right with you. You coordinated all of Tony’s meetings and practically created his everyday work schedule. “Mr. Stark didn’t mention meeting you already.”

“We decided to go over all possibilities of this transaction. It wasn’t much.” Steve brushes your comment off as he enters the elevator with you.

The doors close and you feel trapped. Through the short conversation you’ve had with this man, you can already tell how calculating he is. Every word, every movement, has been intricately steered by him for his benefit. And you couldn’t even begin to explain how belittled his stature made you feel; sheer power barely contained by an expensive three piece suit. The dark blue made his blue eyes more piercing in comparison. Everything about him radiated dominance. And for a woman like you who was practically clawing her way up the corporate ladder, that was a problem.

“You coming?” Steve’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He stood by the open elevator doors, arm gesturing out for you to lead. “Time is money.”

“Well then you have plenty of it, don’t rush me,” you snap.

“Feisty,” he muses, lips turning upwards.

Steve follows behind you, and you can feel his gaze burning on your ass. You’re more than grateful when you reach Tony’s door, having to refrain from frantically knocking, trying to escape the stare of the man behind you.

“Enter,” a voice calls from behind the doors.

You push open the large door and stand to the side, allowing Steve to enter the room before you.

“Mr. Stark,” Steve greets, crossing the room to give Tony a firm handshake.

“Rogers.”

The men begin to talk business and you take that as your cue to leave, turning back towards the door.

“Y/n, have a seat,” Tony calls out to you. You glance back at him and beckons you over with two fingers.

“Um, Mr. Stark, there are no other chairs,” you stammer.

“Don’t worry, doll, I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t offer a lady a place to sit,” Steve declares. You expect him to get up, but he just spreads his legs a little wider and gestures to his lap.

Eyes flitting to Tony in panic, your employer just nods and gives you look of warning as if saying ‘don’t mess this up’.

You let out a breath and hesitantly make your way to Steve.

‘How much could this escalate?’

The words from earlier rang in your head, but you brush them away and tentatively place yourself on one of his muscular thighs, angling yourself inward. You can’t hide how your face twists into a look of disdain as Steve’s arm snakes around, pulling you further up his leg so you’re back right up against his torso.

“Mr. Rogers I-” Your voice is nothing but a squeak before Tony interrupts you.

“As I was saying,” Tony interjected. “Your profits will grow exponentially if you add Stark Tech to your security services. Which is why I get 60%. I’m already doing you a favor by growing your profits.”

“I want 50/50. Stark Industries will gain consumers from S.H.I.E.L.D. We both get more buyers from the partnership, so I say it should be an even split.”

“Well we both know you’re not just getting the consumers, Rogers,” Tony spat. 

That has your attention fully invested in the conversation. What could Rogers possibly get from the company that Tony would be so mad about parting from? You look down at the contract on the desk in front of you and your heart stops cold.

“Mr. Stark, why is my name on this contract?” It was there. Under ‘assets acquired’, it was the last thing, as if added as a last moment bargain.

Tony just ignores you. “Steve, you’re taking the head of Stark-Touch Smartphones, my most profitable branch, you can’t just expect things to run as efficiently when she’s gone.”

“I’m taking her twice a week, I highly doubt that’ll make much of a dent in your operations,” Steve scoffs, and you tense up. “How about this. I get her for two weeks- straight- a month, and I’ll split it 45-55.”

“Mr. Stark, what’s going on?” Your voice quivers.

“Your boss here just agreed to sell you to me, as my...assistant,” he explains, hot breath fanning your ear. His free hand that’s not on your waist moves to grip your bare thigh up your skirt. “Two weeks a month, for every month, for as long as you work for him.”

“No!” you suddenly shout, wrenching your body from his grip to stand up. “I will take the comments, I will take the stares and the touches, but I will not be whored out like this. Mr. Stark, I quit.”

Stark just tsks and rises from his chair to stand in front of you. While shorter than Steve, it still feels like he towers over you with the demeanor he holds. “That’s just it, y/n...you see, you’re not gonna be quitting to start that new company of yours.”

Your eyes practically bulge out of your head as he mentions your future plans.

“Yeah, I know, you’re not as good at hiding as you thought. At least from Peter that is. Kid’s a whiz at the computer. Had him plant a bug on your home laptop and do a little sweep of your personal account. And I gotta hand it to you, the numbers you ran? Almost perfect. Every single projection and hypothesis you had would’ve gone through. You factored in almost everything. Almost. But you forgot one thing, sweetheart.” Tony’s hand flies up to grip your jaw and uses the momentum to throw you into the wall a few feet behind you. He’s back on you in an instant, seething, as the grip on your chin is bruising. “You forgot me, bitch. You forgot what would happen if you cross Tony fucking Stark. I’m the most powerful man in America. I can ruin your life with a snap of my fingers.”  Just as quickly as he was on you, Tony’s anger switches to calm, and in the blink of an eye, he’s off of you, casually smoothing his suit down. “Well more of a push of a button.”

Smirking, Tony reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone while you remain frozen in fear, glancing at Steve who just looks amused at the show in front of him. At the sound of Tony coughing to get your attention, you look back in front of you at the phone he’s now holding out. Black and white security footage is displayed on the screen, and the moment Tony presses play, you know what it is.

Your voice rings through the speaker, the moans, expletives, and begging coming out of your throat are clear as day as Tony fucks you over your desk.

“Harder, daddy!”

“Please, please, let me cum!”

Your eyes water. “Stop it,” you murmur, but the video keeps playing. “I said stop it! Please!”

Tony chuckles. “So now you understand what’s at stake here? One push of a button, one phone call to Peter, and this video will be up all over Time Square. Forget starting a company, you’ll be blackballed all over America from even being a receptionist.”

You’re defeated, your entire future crumbling before your eyes.

 “What do you want from me.”

“Well I think leaving me or the company is now obviously out of the picture, so for now, I want you to give Steve here a little trial of what he just bought from me.”

“Please...please no,” you croak, but Tony just holds up his phone and raises an eyebrow.

As you start to make your way toward the other man, Tony grabs your jaw once more. “Don’t half-ass it,” he grows in your ear before shoving you to Steve.

Eyes lowered, you stand in front of Steve and shrug your blazer off. “What would you like me to do...sir?”

“Suck me off.”

You’re barely able to breathe, sinking down to your nears, as tears begin to flow freely from your eyes.

“You’re so pretty when you cry doll,” Steve murmurs under his breath.

There is no dignity left in you as you unbuckle his belt and open his fly. The soft zip is deafening to your ears, and you reach in and pull out his hardening cock.

Shit. He wasn’t even fully hard and he was big. You’d be lying if you said that didn’t send a pang down to your core.

Giving him a few shy strokes, you then place your mouth over him, hollowing your cheeks as you lightly suckle at the tip. You pull back and take a deep breath. 

‘Don’t half-ass it’

You dive back in with renewed vigor, taking as much of him as you can and running your tongue across the underside of him. He’s hot and heavy in your mouth, and you find yourself pretending you were somewhere else with someone else, enjoying it. You let out a moan at his taste and Steve responds with his own groan, hand caressing your hair as you slightly speed up. His hand winds itself into your hair, and he begins thrusting his hips up into your mouth, extracting a whimper from you. Each buck of his hips turns harsher as his hand pushes down on your head to force his entire length down your throat, and at this point, you’re drooling onto his expensive slacks. He’s about to cum and you feel it; his thrusts becoming erratic and his entire body tensing, but before you can speed up and get this nightmare over with, he wrenches you off his dick and pulls you into a heated kiss, hands coming up to grope you all over.

You let out a startled squeal as both hands grasp your blouse and rip it down the middle, buttons flying everywhere, before he proceeds to do the same to the black lacy bra you're wearing.

“Ride me,” he commands.

All shame has left you at this point as you proceed to straddle him, your skirt now bunched up at your waist, and sink down on his length. The mewl that comes out of you is from how his girth is stretching you, and after what seems like eternity, you’re bottomed out and unable to move.

“Move,” he orders.

“I can’t,” you whine. “It-it’s too much.”

“Move.”

You let out another whimper as you slowly raise yourself a couple inches and sink back down, feeling every single vein on his cock brush against your walls. A few more attempts later, Steve grows impatient. A low growl is torn from his lips while he grabs your hips tight and slams you back down on his impossibly hard length.

You can barely hear the string of strangled screams and moans as he brutally thrusts into you, moving your body up and down and using you for his own pleasure. Every punishing plunge into your cunt punches the air from your lungs, and Steve’s groans are animalistic.

You glance over to the side to see Tony fisting his own dick, and the only thing that tears you away from staring at him is a particularly hard thrust from the man in the chair below you.

“Fuck, doll, your gripping me so tight,” Steve grunts.

The sound of skin slapping and the squelching of your now wet pussy is so overwhelming you don’t even register another set of hands on your waist.

“Bend her over more, Rogers. I wanna fuck her ass.”

[strawberry-jammers]

a child to protect (pt 3)

tommy x child!reader || a fun time

tommy gets cloths for (y/n) to wear in the tundra, and has a little fashion show

pt1 pt2 pt3 pt 4

The next morning Tommy got up to steal more things, and make (y/n) more clothes for colder climates. Tommy whent outside to get some wool, having stolen everything he wanted from technos. He needed to get some supplies for his kid.

Tommy opened the door from the basement, walking outside to the cold air. It smelled of winter goodness and blood. Tommy didnt pay to much mind, not even to the fact he was supposed to be hiding. Tommy started his walk to the forest for some sheep. “I think blue would be a good color, ghostbur would love it-”

“HEH tommy what are you doing near my home??” ah. He forgot about the blade. “Hey hey man hahaha funny seeing you here!” techno growled. “It's literally my home, what are you doing here?” tommy looked at the blade. “This is my home! Technoblade i think you've gone a little crazy there bud.” techno pulled out a pickaxe. “Ill sick this threw your teeth, get out of my house tommy.” “blade blade, this is our house! We own it together-” techno was tired of this. “Wait how long have you been here??” tommy grabbed a grapple. “A day or so.” he bite the golden apple. “That's where all my stuff whe- wait is that mine!!!” tommy walked back inside, albeit quickly and panicky. “Finders keepers, besides it was in our house.” “IT'S LITERALLY NOT YOUR HOUSE!” tommy shook his head, eating the apple. “Do you have any wool or something to make cloths with? I need to make some.” “yeah, your outfit is atrocious, it's also torn up and dirty and stuff.” tommy yelled back, “NOT FOR ME BITCH!” techno stood there a bit confused, until he heard a bell sound from below them. “hEH??”

before

 (Y/n) sat in the room, playing with the stick Tommy gave them months before. They had to wait for their dad to come back, but after awhile they got restless. 

(Y/n) heard loud noises upstairs, but they were more determined to find something new to do. Looking around the room, they saw a gold bell next to the prime log. Eyes sparkling, they crawled over to the bell, holding their stick in hand. Sitting next to the bell, they touched the shiny thing, intrigued. They then had a bright idea

Beat the thing with the stick. 

So they started to bang the bell with the stick. It was loud, very loud, they soon stopped and started crying instead. They were really close to the bell and hurt their ears. A faint “hEH'' was heard upstairs, but (y/n) couldn't hear it over their crying. Tommy quickly climbed down the ladders to get to his child. “Hey hey, shhh it's okay, are you hurt?” tommy asks. Rushing over to the small child. They kept crying, Tommy not knowing what to do. “Shh shh hey hey it's okay, it's okay.” he said softly, trying to calm the child. (y/n) over time stopped crying, feeling more and more sleepy as time went on, all the while techno just stared at them, rightfully confused. Tommy rocked his baby till they fell asleep, placing them in their crib. Tommy looked at his child happily, before turning to the person he was fighting a second ago.

“So, got any wool?”

------

Techno, albeit against his will, let tommy and (y/n) stay with him for the time being. In exchange, they had teamed up for the time being. Techno didn't really like his predicament, having to deal with an annoying brat and an orphan, but he had to go with it. The voices enjoyed having the baby around, so techno couldn't kill them.

Shortly after their confrontation, techno went out to gather wool for the two. Tommy took what he had and started to make more clothes for the child. He had learned the basics of sowing from eret way back when, so he tried his best. 

"(Y/n), try this on." The baby looked at him, just wanting to play with the crows that visited often. "No." Tommy sat there, baffled. "D-did you just tell me no??" "No!" "Okay well now you just lying." The kid giggled, continuing to pet the crows. Tommy grabbed his kid, sitting them on his lap. "Your trying this on." The kid pouted, but complied, slipping on the sweater. "Good?" The kid nodded, crawling off tommys lap and sitting with the crows again. 

Tommy sat there for a second, contemplating. "How the fuck do i make pants…"

Tommy had to ask techno if he knew how. He didn't, since he's never had to make pants, so he asked Phil if he had any baby cloths or if he knew how.

“Helloo” techno says as he enters phil's home. “Jesus christ- you know your not allowed in limburg tech.” techno shrugs. “Eh, anyway i came here for something.” phil nodded. “What is it that you need? Ore, food, books-” “i need baby clothes.” “WHAT-” phil wasn't expecting that request. “I need baby clothes, got any? I know wilbur was once a kid so.” phil looked at his old friend questioningly. “Do you have a kid??” techno looked very offended at this. “Ew no id never adopt an orphan. No, tommy needs it.” phil was still confused. “Techno, tommys not a baby-” “NO NOT LIKE THAT! He found a kid so now he's raising them, and they need baby clothes.” phil nodded. “Ohh sorry mate, yeah i think i have some of wilburs old cloths. Lemme go check.”

Phil came back with a bag full of wilburs old clothes, he said just to take it and see which would work for a baby. 

“I wish i could come visit, but tubbo needs me for some fucking reason.” techno nodded. “Thank you phil.” philza smiled. “Anytime, now go, make sure tommy didn't kill any of the animals.” techno panicked. “NO THE TURTLES-” 

------

“Okay little (f/i), we’re gonna try this on okay?” (y/n) nodded, ready for the cool new outfit they are gonna get. 

Tommy pushed a mirror in front of the child. “You like it?” they baby wore a striped yellow sweater with some cute little overalls. They also had snow boots and a beanie to go with it. (y/n) smiled, giggling partly at the fact that they were looking at themself. “You look cute big man! Now, lets see if there's anything else you might like.” 

The rest of the day was spent picking out clothes for them, seeing what fit and what they liked. Tommy was having fun with this, so he suggested they do a fashion show for when philza could visit. The kid was excited at this, wanting to meet the all so old philza minecraft. Tommy took care of the clothes that they didn't like or just plain wouldnt fit, while (y/n) messed with the toys that were found in the bag. 

“TECHNOOOO!” tommy yells, climbing up the ladder. “Whaaat.”he says, in the main part of the house. “Can phil come here tomorrow???” techno climbs down the ladder to meet the loud child. “Why?” tommy throws the bag in a random corner. “(y/n) wants to meet phil and show them their outfits.” tommy says, not as loud as before. Techno sighs. “Ill see if he can.” YEEEES!!! (Y/N) (Y/N) I HAVE GOOD NEWS-” tommy yells, climbing down the ladder as fast as possible. Techno chuckled, getting back to what he was doing prior.

The next day, phil came by as requested. He was excited to meet the young child, remembering when wilbur was young. Philza opened the front door of the cottage. “Helloooo.” techno says as always. “Hey mate, how's the wife?” techno snorted. “Great great, sitting in the boat as always.” they stare at edward who was staring at them as always. “In all seriousness, whos taking care of tommy been?” he asks, sitting down at one of the chairs. “Fine fine, nearly lost my hearing but other than that fiiine.” phil chuckled. “yeah he’ll do that.”

Tommy came up stairs, hearing the new presence come into the house. “Phiiilza, big p how you beeeen!” philza stared at him. “Don't call me that. I've been fine, visiting tech whenever i can. I heard your raising a baby? How's that going.” tommy sat in the chair next to the old man. “Great! (y/n)s been great, having spent some time alone, their happy with the constant attention.” tommy says happily. “What do you mean by alone?” phil asked, concerned on what he meant by that. “Uhh, anyways me and (y/n) wanna put on a little show for you! They wanna show off their new outfits.” phil let it slide, not wanting to pry to hard. “Aww mate, i wanna see the outfits.” tommy smiled, running off. “TECHNO SET THE STAGE. (Y/N) GET HYPED!!” techno snorted, displeased.

Philza chuckled at his old friend. “First i let him into my home, not killing his child, and now i'm doing shit for him? Ugh.” techno works on the little stage area for the two kids. “Calm down mate, he's just excited.” techno rolled his eyes, sitting next to phil. 

“WE’RE BACK!!” startling the two old men, Tommy runs up the stairs with (y/n) covered in a small blanket. He says the outfits are a surprise.

“Ready everyone?” phil and techno say yes while (y/n) says no, their favorite word. “Youre not ready (n/n)?” (y/n) shook their head. “Hat!'' Tommy gasped. “Your hat!” tommy grabs (y/n)s hat from the pile that he brought up and put it on their head. “There! Now you ready?” the kid nodded, getting ready for the fashion show they had been preparing for. 

“Okay!! Go little (f/i)!” (y/n) crawled their way in front of the curtain that blocked the old men from seeing the other two. They tried to stand up, having the help of Tommy to get on their feet. They stood proudly, showing off their winter outfit. They adorned a dark green winter coat, with black pants and little snow boots. They also had a grey beanie to add to the outfit. 

They continued this, philza thoroughly enjoyed the show they had put on, and techno thoroughly hated it. He kept trying to leave, but Phil kept dragging the piglin hybrid back to his seat. He didnt wanna ruin the fun the two were having. 

"Tadaaa!!!" (Y/n) said, having finished the show. Phil clapped happily, while techno slowly clapped as to not be the only one not clapping. Tommy picked up the small child, holding them in his arms. "That was fun, right little (f/i)?" Tommy asks. (Y/n) nodded, giggling happily. "Fun!" Philza laughed, standing up. "I better get going, Don't want ghostbur getting worried." "Awwwww buy you haven't fully met (y/n) yeeeet." Tommy complains, Phil just laughs at him. "I'll be back eventually. Now i have to go. Bye (y/n), you did really well back there." "No!" (Y/n) says, even tho they looked pleased with the compliment. 

"Bye everyone, have fun cleaning that up." Phil says, referring to the stage and piles of clothes. Techno snorts in annoyance while Tommy just ignores phil's comment. Philza leaves the house, closing the door behind him. 

"Anyways, have fun with that techno!!" "Oh no you don't! GET BACK HERE!!!"

[lobster-tales]

Alternate Universe

Zutaraang Week 2022 Day 7 @zutaraangtastic

A/N: This is a SEQUEL chapter to my entry for the Zutaraang “Journeys” zine from last year. Chapter 1 is available HERE on AO3 :)

Summary: The morning after the party, Katara and Aang have a realization. Meanwhile, Zuko wants to get in contact. - Modern AU, Soulmate AU

This work is available here on AO3. 

Katara woke the next morning in Aang’s dorm room with a wicked hangover. She sat up against one of his thin pillows, startled to find herself wearing only underwear. Good thing Aang’s roommate had returned home for the weekend. Aang was sound asleep beside her, also shirtless. He had let her sleep against the wall while his arm dangled carelessly over the side of his high bunk.

As she crawled forward, her hands sunk into the soft comforter: her idea. If Aang was left to his own devices, he’d sleep on nothing but a tatami mat. Katara had spent too many years in the cold to accept such minimal sleeping conditions.

Aang, ever amiable, had let his roommate take the wall farthest from the entryway and against the window, which meant his bed was flush with the door. Katara peered over the foot of the bunk. Her otter penguin onesie lay crumpled like a black and white doormat. The groan of the bed’s ladder concealed her own as she descended: she was usually so tidy. Aang’s costume meanwhile was resting on the back of his chair, tucked along with his desk beneath the bed. Schoolwork was scattered there in disarray, and she fought back the urge to sort through the mess.

When she flipped the sink on, the water spurted from the old pipes. Her fingers glided, guiding the stream into a coffee maker.

Katara’s head rested on the cool desk while the coffee maker gurgled. She tried to gather her thoughts, remember the events of the night. Both Aang and she had ridden with her older brother, Sokka, along with his girlfriend, Suki, and one of Aang’s new classmates, Toph. The plan was to go to the Halloween party together as a group, then they would return to Sokka’s place and crash on his floor.

Clearly, something had not gone according to plan.

She remembered arriving at the party. Remembered the cavalcade of sorority girls in flawless makeup and the frat boys in sloppy togas. Anything after the first twenty minutes was a blur: Sokka arm wrestling someone, Aang entertaining everyone with his airbending tricks.

Too exhausted to lift the pot, Katara bent the coffee into a mug. She usually didn’t like to drink anything so bitter, but today she could make an exception. As she lifted the ceramic to her lips, the silver words of her soulmark glinted in the fluorescent light.

                                       I need to ask you something.

The words jarred a memory as she held out her left arm.

                                       I’ll save you from the pirates.

That’s right, the pirates. The two frat boys that actually attempted a costume.

At the party, Katara had wandered off while Aang dazzled the crowd. Drawn to the river, of course, as any waterbender would be. And the two dressed as pirates were there on the deck. Usually, she didn’t like to show anyone her ‘other’ soulmark: people always thought it was fake, claiming it was a tattoo. But, uninhibited by the alcohol, she was more than happy to flash her wrist at them, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. A charming coincidence, nothing more.

Then the cops showed up, and that was that. Her last memory: a scramble of bodies, the mad rush for the door.

“Mmm,” Aang murmured, stirred by the smell of coffee. The dangling arm reached for her, fingers pinching the air.

“Use your words,” Katara said, more playful than scolding.

He dropped his head over the edge of the bunk, his big, dopey grin upside down. “Coffee pleeeeeease?”

Katara only handed him a mug when he was upright, seated on the rug in the center of the room. “Aang?” she asked, “What happened last night?”

He perked up, though she didn’t know why. “Oh yeah…” Aang stretched his arms in front of him, flexing his muscles. “Well, I don’t mean to brag, but uh… someone found their other soulmate last night.”

Her jaw dropped. “What?!”

“Yup,” Aang said, sipping his coffee casually.

On instinct, Katara felt the prick of jealousy. She couldn’t figure out the source, though: was she jealous of this new person for sharing Aang’s attention, or jealous of Aang for finding his other soulmate?

When he didn’t offer any more information, Katara knelt in front of him. “What?” she repeated. “How? What happened? What does she… er, they… look like?”

“It’s a guy,” Aang clarified. “Kinda gothy. He’s got this cool scar on his eye.”

A memory stirred. Someone, a scar, seizing her wrist and dragging her away from the frat boys.

She must have been making a face, because Aang said, concerned, “Uh, you good, Kat?”

“... That guy? That’s your-” She forced herself to be calm. One bad interaction didn’t define a person. Maybe Aang’s first impression was more positive. “How-how did that go? What did he say to you?”

“Wait, I have it right here,” Aang joked, reading the soulmark on his arm. “His first words to me were, ‘You’re the airbender.’”

“No, I know that,” she said in a huff. While Katara normally adored Aang’s playfulness, she didn’t have the patience at this crucial moment. “But how? What else did he say?”

“He didn’t really get a chance before the cops showed up,” said Aang. “But I texted Suki about it, and she texted her friend that invited us, and the friend told her that he was trying to kick us out.”

Anger flared up inside of her, but she tamped the flames with confusion. “Wait, Suki?” Then, hurt, “Did you tell Suki about your new soulmate before you told me?”

“No!” He reached for her hand to comfort her. “No, of course I told you first. I told you on our walk back to the dorm.” At her blank expression, he asked, “Do you not remember?”

She didn’t. Not at all. It was only news now that they had walked back to the dorm instead of riding home with Sokka. Katara had so many burning questions, but all she managed was, “We walked?”

Aang finally understood the situation, letting out a breathy laugh. “Oh man, I didn’t realize you had that much to drink.”

“Shut up,” Katara muttered.

“But yeah, no,” Aang said. “When everyone scattered, we couldn’t find Sokka or Suki or Toph, and you were reeeeal wobbly, so I decided to bring you back here since it was only a few blocks away. It was kind of funny because, when I told you, I said, ‘I found my other soulmate,’ you kind of, like, growled at me? And you said, ‘Me too, that bastard.’”

The breath left her lungs. The shock of the words wasn’t nearly as bad as what followed. The night swam back through her mind, the vague fuzziness melting away. That guy grabbed her wrist and said it. Said the words on her arm, the ones she had been ashamed of for so long. They were engraved into her mind: given a pen and paper, she could have recreated them brushstroke by brushstroke. And he said them.

Then he dragged her away. And according to Suki’s friend, with the intent to kick them out. If that’s what he was doing, then he must have been the house bouncer or something. Some faceless frat meathead.

But he wasn’t faceless. In fact, she could see his face somewhat clearly in her mind, even though she had only gotten a brief glimpse. That scar, how could she forget?

Easily, it seemed, under the right influence.

“Our soulmate,” Katara murmured. Of course, she and Aang knew this was a possibility. They had discussed it at length, many times. But the opposite seemed more likely: Katara’s leading theory was that they would somehow lose the other and find new love, or perhaps take on second lovers and accept the situation. She was wrong, though. It was the same person. Their soulmate.

Yet… how could they be sure? Katara asked, “Did you get a look at his arms? Did he also have two soulmarks?”

Aang made an ‘I don’t know’ noise.

“Then we have to find him,” she said decisively. “That’s the only way we’ll know for sure.” Katara fussed around Aang’s desk, searching for a pen and paper. “Okay, what did you say to him?”

“Well,” said Aang. “He seemed like he was looking for me, so I said, ‘Looking for me?’”

The pen scribbled. “And I said…” What did she say? She closed her eyes, envisioned the exchange.

The words returned along with an icky feeling in the pit of her stomach. Katara leaned forward, color draining from her face.

“Katara?” Aang reached to support her. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” she groaned. “I just feel sick.”

                                                         ≈  ≈  ≈

Zuko:

hey

Ty Lee: OMG hey Zuzu! \(^ヮ^)/ What’s up??

Zuko: i have a question. you know that friend of yours from Kyoshi Warriors club? the one that brought all those benders.

Ty Lee:

Oh nooooo I’m so sorry, Zuzu!! I didn’t realize they would cause so much trouble, Azula told me how they were ruining everything! I’m sorry you              had to kick them out :((((

Zuko: do you have her number?

Ty Lee: :O

Ty Lee: Zuzu, she has a boyfriend!! He was there last night!

Zuko: NO. not what I meant.

Zuko: I need her number because I need to find one of the benders.

Ty Lee: Ohhhhhhhh haha

Ty Lee: Wait. Which one and why?

Zuko: does it matter?

Ty Lee: I might be friends with them on social media! I’ll help you find them… if you tell    me which one you’re looking for and why (^ω~)

Ty Lee: Come on, Zuko, don’t ghost me! I promise I won’t tell Azula.

Ty Lee: Pleeeeease? (◕,◕)

Zuko: fine.

Zuko: it’s a couple. their costumes were otter penguins.

Ty Lee: Oh the airbender?? Ya his name’s Aang! He’s super cool. And I think that girl is    his girlfriend. I’ll send u a link to his profile.

Ty Lee: So??

Zuko: so what?

Ty Lee: Why do u need to talk to them??

Ty Lee: You’re not gonna go after them are you?? Srsly Zuko he’s just a freshman! Pls don’t try to beat him up (;*△*;)

Zuko: i’m not. long story. tell you later.

Ty Lee: Ugh fine…

Ty Lee: Here’s a link to his profile. PROMISE you’ll tell me later??

Zuko: if everything goes right, i promise.

[lesbian-lilo]

Mission Mishaps - Wanda x fem!reader

This is my first ever commission for @g-cordelia! Thank you so much for your support and I hope you enjoy!

You awoke to the harsh shrill of your alarm clock, groaning before rolling out of the warm embrace of your wife to turn it off. Your hopes that it wouldn’t wake her ruined as she mumbled a soft “good morning”, pulling you back into her arms. You turned to face her, heart skipping a beat as you gazed at your wife. After being married for 3 years and together for 5 some people would expect waking up next to her wouldn’t be the same. But every time you woke up with her next to you, you were blown away. Wanda had an ethereal glow cast by the morning sun shining through the crack in the curtains. She was lying on her side, her growing baby bump pressing into your own stomach. Her hair was slightly covering her face, eyes half lidded as she stared at you with nothing but love in her eyes. Wanda was always soft in the mornings, something she reserved for you and your child.

You press a soft kiss to her lips whispering a “good morning my angel” before sliding down the bed to be eye level with Wanda’s belly. “And good morning to you too little one” you say, before leaving a kiss on her stomach. “How are you so perfect?” You glance up at these words, Wanda beaming at you before beckoning you up so she can kiss you again.

An abrupt knock sounds at the door and Natasha’s voice can be heard on the other side. “Wanda, y/n, open up!”. You share a glance at Wanda before you climb out of bed and open the door, inviting Nat in before closing the door behind her. Nat moves to stand beside your bed and exchanges greetings with Wanda as you sit back down next to your wife. Natasha looks between you both with a sigh before focusing her attention on you. “Y/n I know you’ve stepped back from missions since Wanda’s been pregnant, but Fury just told me we are needed on an urgent mission. I’m not sure what it is, he says we will be briefed on the Quinjet. I tried to get him to assign someone else but apparently there is no one else for the job”. Nat gives you a sad look as she finishes speaking. She knows how difficult it was for both yourself and Wanda when you decided to stop going on missions. But you both agreed you couldn’t compromise your wellbeing or the life you were creating. Wanda reached for your hand, slowly running her thumb up and down your palm. “When do we have to go?”. “In about 30 minutes. I’ll go suit up so you both can talk. Y/n see you at the Quinjet”.  After saying goodbye to Natasha, you turned to face Wanda, who had a solemn expression on her face. “Promise me you’ll be safe”. “I promise” you whispered before capturing her lips in a kiss. Placing a hand on Wanda’s stomach, you leant down. “That’s a promise to you too little one”. After many kisses and promises you’d return safe, you left to shut up and meet Nat at the Quinjet.

Walking onto the Quinjet, you moved to sit next to Nat in the co-pilot seat, as Fury began briefing you both on the mission. Although you had mostly given up missions for the foreseeable future, a decision you were more than happy with, you couldn’t deny the rush of adrenaline and excitement that came with starting one. After Fury left, so did you, sparing one last glance at the Avengers compound before flying off to your destination.

The mission was relatively simple. You and Nat were to infiltrate a Hydra base and get information needed for the other Avengers who were on a separate mission. They couldn’t complete their mission until you had found the information needed.

After landing the Quinjet in a clearing close to the base, you and Natasha began the short walk to the edge of the forest that surrounded the Hydra base. This was your first mission since Wanda became pregnant, something you were extremely aware of. You couldn’t help but to play with your wedding ring attached to the chain around your neck. Normally you would wear it on your finger, but you didn’t want to risk losing it.  

“Okay. There’s a ladder off to the left-hand side. I’m going to use that to climb to the roof and then enter through one of the vents. You circle around to the back, there should be a door that’s relatively unguarded. I’ll take out the guards on the roof so you don’t need to worry about that”. You nodded along with Nat’s plan while you mentally psyched yourself up for this mission, reminding yourself that the sooner it’s completed the sooner you can get home to Wanda.

You and Natasha both went your separate ways, you circle around to the back of the base while Nat began to climb the ladder. You stayed near the edge of the forest, waiting for the signal that would tell you the guards had been taken care of and you could enter through the door. After about 10 minutes of waiting, you see Natasha give you the signal before disappearing into a vent. You quickly but quietly make your way to the door, using a key card Nat had thrown down from one of the guards you scan yourself into the building before pocketing it. With guns drawn you sneak down the hallway, making sure to check every corner and doorway. The base was eerily quiet, almost too quiet. You shrugged it off however, not wanting to distract yourself from the mission.

You made your way to the surveillance room, taking out any Hydra agents you happened to come across. After scanning yourself into the room and taking care of the agents present, you began to look through the computers for the necessary information. “Hey Nat, where are you?” After you heard no reply on the comms and due to you jamming the surveillance cameras before you entered, you didn’t have a clue where she was. However, you knew Natasha was an incredible spy and could hold her own. You needed to get the information. You decided you would search the base after sending off the information to Shield if you hadn’t gotten in contact with her via the comms.

After gathering the necessary intel and sending it through to Shield, you began your search of the Hydra base. After turning a few corners, you began to hear the faint sound of fighting, alerting you to Natasha’s location. After running down multiple hallways you finally rounded the corner Natasha was in. There were about 10 Hydra agents all circling Natasha, who was managing to hold the off. You ran up to her and began to help, taking out Hydra agents left and right until you were the only ones standing. “Did you get the intel?” “I did” you replied. “Let’s get you home to Wanda”. You began to make your way back down the hallway, this time with Natasha by your side. As you were stepping over one of the Hydra agents, you failed to realise they were still slightly conscious. All of a sudden you felt a burning sensation on your lower stomach, followed by the sound of a single gunshot echoing through the hallway. You looked down to see a knife lodged into your lower abdomen, and a Hydra agent with a fresh bullet wound in his head courtesy of Natasha, you had moved to your side in an instant. Black dots began to appear on your vision as Natasha helped you back into the Quinjet, immediately laying you down on the stretcher before grabbing the first aid kit from underneath. “Nat” you managed to choke out, blood dribbling from your mouth. “You’re gonna be ok y/n”. “No Nat listen”, you tried again. You could feel yourself beginning to lose consciousness, but you had to tell her something before you did. “Please don’t tell Wanda. Not until I get better”. With that, your vision went blank, and you passed out.

You regained consciousness two days lying in a hospital bed with your wife asleep on a cot next to you. You looked around the room to see Natasha sitting in a chair on the other side of your bed reading a bit. You went to speak but immediately started coughing, alerting Natasha that you had woken up. She immediately got you a cup of water, helping you drink it before sitting back down. “How long has she been here?” You asked, motioning to your wife who still asleep. Natasha sighed, “When we got back, and you were rushed to the hospital ward. I couldn’t keep it from her y/n, especially when you’ve been out for two days”. Wanda began to stir then, your eyes immediately going to her. Nat quietly left the room, wanting to give you both some time together.

When Wanda woke up, she immediately burst into tears. With the stiches in your stomach, you couldn’t move as fast as you would like, however you eventually sat beside her, Wanda immediately throwing her arms around you and burying her face into her neck. It was only then that the reality of what could’ve been set in for you. There was a chance you wouldn’t be the one holding Wanda right now, it instead being Natasha while the mourned your passing. You began to tear up at the thought and held onto Wanda tighter as you whispered you were sorry. After sitting in each other’s embrace for a while, you both eventually parted. Wanda looked deep into your eyes, “My love, why did you ask Nat not to tell me you were hurt?” Straight away you felt guilty. It’s not that you wanted to keep it from her, you never keep anything from her. You just didn’t want her to worry, or to stress either her or the baby out. Wanda immediately realised this; she can read minds after all. Instead of responding however, she brought you into a passionate kiss, one filled with love and hope and desperation. It was in that moment you decided that it didn’t matter if the entire world was ending, you were not leaving Wanda’s side.

Four weeks later….

You woke up soft kisses along your spine and the soft giggles of your wife as you groaned and rolled over. You were still sore but had thankfully gotten your stitches taken out and were healing well. You kissed Wanda good morning before moving down to do the same to her baby bump, whispering a good morning to your child as well. Wanda giggled before sliding down the bed and placing a gentle kiss on the scar that had formed on your stomach. Ever since you had gotten your stitches out, Wanda had kissed your scar almost as much as you kissed her baby bump. It started as a joke however it soon evolved into a loving gesture from the most beautiful woman to grace the Earth. You pulled Wanda to lay on top of you, her head resting in the crook of your neck as you turned on the TV to some random cooking channel. You sighed in content, your hand caressing her baby bump. You truly were the luckiest woman in the world.

[acourtofsnakes]

Arir - Rogue, Chapter 2| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (F)

Summary: After giving up, you and the Mandalorian go back to his ship, travelling out of Sorgan and back into space. It’s a long trip through hyperspace... there’s only so long you can ignore each other for. The differences between you and your hidden secret might cause clashes.. but when the time comes, will you act? Or not? 

Warnings: swearing, injury detail, mentions of death/war etc, degradation (not in a nice way), flirtation/suggestive themes and the such? Let me know if I’ve forgotten anything. 

AN: Thank you all for the love on the first chapter!! Let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!!

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Word count: 6789

Also, the planet in which we visit here is the unnamed industrial planet from Season 2, Episode 1 with the creatures that like the dark. 

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar​ @weirdowithnobeardo

Rogue Masterlist | Introduction| 1: Solus| 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl

Mando’a Translation: Arir - To act

You swam around in hazy darkness for a while, in no rush to wake up. You were free from pain here, free from running, and from being hunted. It was… peaceful. You liked it here. 

Unfortunately, this is your life. And you don’t have such good luck. Noise began to filter through the haze in your mind, the beeping of machinery and the muffled whir of engines.

You groaned softly, your head feeling like it was full of rocks as you forced open your eyes, blinking a few times. You looked around, seeing a holding area on what appeared to be the inside of a ship.

You were seated on the floor, the cold metal seeping through your trousers and as you pulled yourself up more comfortably, you found that your hands were cuffed to a metal pipe on the wall of the ship. 

Opposite you, was a huge bank of… solid hunks of something, what looked like the bodies and faces of people and creatures stick in them. You frowned, squinting in the low light and then you realised that they were. Humans, creatures big and small, all trapped screaming in carbonite.

Brilliant.

Maybe the fact you were supposedly such a high bounty would keep you far away from being trapped in that.

Resting your head back, you stared at a spot in the corner of the room, just thinking. It took you a while, but you suddenly realised that your shoulder had been bound. It still hurt so much, but the wrappings around it kept it somewhat stable.

Interesting. The Mandalorian had wrapped your wounds before cuffing you in this holding cell of his ship.

-

It might have been hours later, but you were awoken from a light doze by boots thudding softly down the hall and then the Mandalorian was walking over, stopping in front of you, “Wake up.” He nudged your feet with his own, earning a groan from you.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to wake someone up when they’re asleep?” You glared at him, tilting your head back to look up at the impassive expression of the helmet.

He replied easily without missing a beat, “Don’t you know it’s rude to call someone heartless when you don’t even know who they are?”

You smiled slowly, dropping your eyelids to half-mast, “Uncuff me and we can get to know each other just fine, tin can.”

The eye roll was practically audible, but he knelt down, moving close to you as he reached for your wrist, “I was thinking we could keep the cuffs on.”

Maker, the way his voice dropped, that rasp coming through the modulator, his scent washed over you, smoke, metal and something else, something citrusy almost.

You swallowed, having not expected him to play back so quickly, thrown off.

He snickered, actually laughing as he undid the cuffs, snapping them back over your wrists, “You set yourself up for that one, sweetheart.” His voice betrayed the smirk that was clearly under the beskar as he pulled you to your feet. He pulled you past the carbonite chamber, round the corner and through the ship until you got to a ladder, “Go on.”

You looked up, then over your shoulder at him, “You want me to climb a ladder with my hands cuffed?” You raised your eyebrow, well aware of your own skill to be able to do so. After all, you’d been cuffed and still escaped with your wrists bound so many times, you’d lost count. Didn’t mean you couldn’t poke him a little. 

Your protest was met with a tilt of his helmet, his voice dripping in false sweetness, “I saw you run across the canopy of a tree like you were flying. I think you’ll be able to manage this, princess.” He just stood there, watching you, one hand resting on his hip.

A few seconds passed, but you turned, giving in and climbing the ladder, resting your wrists on the rung above for balance. Maybe throwing a little extra sway into your hips as you rose up into what appeared to be a cockpit. Climbing out was a little difficult, the tin can below making no effort to help you.

When you got back to your feet, you looked around. It was cosy up here, two seats, big open windows that gave you a view to the outside, the stars blinking around the ship, scattered across the never-ending blackness.

The lights inside flickered on and off, instruments making soft beeps now and then. Resting to the side, was a metal sphere, sort of hovering there gently. That must be the Child, nestled inside, sleeping safely. And on top…

Duru.

Curled up with her nose tucked under her leg, her tail swishing gently.

You made a soft noise, taking a step toward her because you had been convinced that she was gone, deep in the forest.

The Mandalorian’s voice came from behind you suddenly, “By the time I’d carried you back to the ship, she was already at my feet. Lucky I have armour. Your little friend has a hell of a set of claws on her. I can see why she likes you.”

Something warm stirred in your chest as you beheld her sleeping form. She’d come back to you, tried to defend you. It warmed you so much, that you didn’t protest as the Mandalorian tugged you to the other chair, unbinding your wrists and instead attaching each one to either arm of the chair. He then settled into the pilots’ seat, leaning back, his legs spread naturally, and his arms crossed over his stupidly broad chest.

And just looked at you.

You blinked, shifting in your seat as you gazed back at him, raising an eyebrow faintly, “What?”

Nothing. He said nothing. Just kept looking at you. It was like you could feel his eyes running over you, burning into your skin and turning you inside out.

The seconds ticked by, minutes maybe and you started to get uncomfortable. “If you’re trying to undress me with your eyes, it’s not working.”

His arms relaxed, his hands coming to rest on his thighs, “I’m trying to work it out.”

You frowned in confusion, “Work what out?”

A tilt of the head, “Why your bounty is so high. You mess with the wrong people?”

You rolled your eyes, “No. I thought you didn’t care? I was just a bounty to you?” 

He ignored you, maybe made a tiny huff, but still kept his head tilted, “Kill someone?”

 You leant back in the chair, swinging it from side to side gently, “I think we covered that base already, tin can.”

“You steal something?” 

“Only your heart.” You smiled an overly sweet smile, fluttering your eyelashes at him. “Not even close.”

A thoughtful noise filtered through the modulator, “High class runaway bride from an arranged marriage?”

You stared at him, blinking once and then you burst out laughing, “Yeah, sure. I was engaged to a member of one of the Elder Houses. It was the night before my wedding and I couldn’t take it, so I ran away with all my upper class Lady-ness” You still laughed, shaking your head, “I thought you were supposed to be smart. You really think I’m of noble heritage and class?”

Mandalorian shrugged carelessly, “You’re self-righteous enough.”

“I’d rather be self-righteous than a pretentious asshole like you.”

“Did I say there was a difference?” He still faced you, assessing you. It made your skin prickle and you weren’t sure if it was entirely with discomfort.

“Did you get in with the wrong people? Make some bad friends?” Something occurred to him, something you said during your fight, “Are you a Jedi?”

Too far.

You stared at him, eyes suddenly like ice, “Stop. I’m not telling you, so stop asking.” Way too far.

“What is it? It must be something bad, I’ve seen the list that came before me, and who employed them. Only someone to do with the Jedi would pull in that much of a bounty so y-“

You cut across him, the playfulness dropping from your voice and leaving it dripping with cold fire, a stirring deep within you, a whisper of power. “Enough. I am nothing to you but your bounty, remember? Drop it.”

 Before he could even form the words, his sniping protest was cut off by Duru awakening with a chitter, springing into your lap and then climbing up around your shoulders. Seconds later, the cradle opened, and its little green inhabitant sat up with a coo, looking straight at you.

Stars above, he was adorable.

Your lips melted back into a grin as you beheld his sort of wrinkled green face, large glossy black eyes blinking at you and the most adorable floppy bat ears. You laughed a little, “well, I can see why you went rogue for him. He’s the sweetest little thing.” You tilted your head, cooing back at him, “Hi, sweetie, look at you…”

The Mandalorian spun round, pressing a button on his wrist and the sphere snapped shut suddenly, “Don’t touch him. Or look at him. Leave him alone.”

You shifted a look of disbelief at him, eyebrows raised, “What, because I might hurt him by being strapped to a chair? Well done, Mando, you got it. I’m being hunted by so many people because I take one look at wrinkly, green babies and they die.” You threw your eyes up toward the ceiling yet again, this time with a noise of incredulity. 

“Stop rolling your eyes at me.” His snarl both brought a shit-eating grin to your lips and made your toes curl. You chose to ignore the latter.

You laughed, still grinning as you leant forward as much as your bonds would allow, “Why, does it turn you on?”

You were rewarded with a growl this time and he turned his chair round to face the front of the ship, so quickly you were surprised he didn’t come full circle and face you again.

The seething silence was broken by a soft shwoomp and the cradle opened once more. The Child sat back up, looking at you with a tilted head like his father, those big bat ears lifting.

You lifted your fingers, wiggling them at him in a silent hello, earning yourself a delighted gurgle.  Sweet little thing. The wall of beskar in front of you clearly had a soft heart underneath all that armour. 

You leant back in the chair, pondering that for a little while, Duru’s tail hanging over your chest and brushing your forearm every now and then. The darkness outside the walls of the ship, the muffled hum of the engine and the occasional beeps of machinery provided a soft ambience that had your eyelids starting to droop. You hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in… forever. At least here, in the Razor Crest, there was some level of safety, enough that you could allow yourself to relax.

No!! Stop! You are in a ship, piloted by the rogue Mandalorian who is taking you back to Maker knows where for a large sum of money!

Wake. Up! 

Your head jerked up and you shook it, trying to clear the sleepy haze from it. Maybe you should ask for a medic. Your judgement seemed to be failing you rather a lot lately.

Casting your eyes around, you looked for something to talk about, anything to keep yourself awake. You landed on Grogu’s crib again. “So… you’re really just... doing this on your own?” 

Curiosity clearly got the better of him, because his voice filtered out through the helmet, that arrogant tone edging his words, “Do you see anyone else with me?”

You made a thoughtful noise, “I mean… keeping an eye out for people chasing you, taking jobs and hunting… all whilst looking after the kid at the same time… Aren’t you tired?”

“Don’t these kinds of questions come after we’ve known each other more than 6 hours?” He sounded bored, but you didn’t fail to notice the way his hand tightened on the controls.

 Clearly you were hitting a nerve. And you weren’t going to let it drop, “But going to all these planets, doing what you do… not knowing who to trust…”

“Enough. Stop talking, if you can manage that.” That word was an order, your own word thrown right back at you in a low, gritted tone.

You raised an eyebrow at him – well, the back of his head, “You’re the one that brought me up here. You could have left me shackled to the pipes downstairs and saved yourself the annoyance.” 

Mandalorian made a noise of what could have been frustration or regret at that decision, “I brought you up here so I could keep an eye on you. I don’t trust you down there.”

Now that brought a smirk to your lips, “You think I could have gotten out.” It wasn’t a question. “Afraid I’ll find your weapons and slit your throat?” 

The ship glided easily through the vast openness of stars and darkness, falling around you like you were the only people in the galaxy.

He snorted, “Please don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. The day you can do that is the day the stars implode.”

You rolled your eyes at the back of his head, resting your cheek against Duru’s tail. Dick.

Movement caught your eye and Mando turned to face you, his hands on his thighs after seemingly putting the ship on autopilot, “I thought I told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “I thought I asked if it turned you on. You never answered.” 

You could almost hear the smirk in his voice, “And if it does?” That rasp had dropped, caressing your bones, sliding over them with a dark whisper. He had leant forward in his chair, hands sliding down his thighs and you couldn’t help but look at them, the way they spread over the amour plates. Fuck.

You shifted your eyes back up to him, willing your cheeks not to flush with the unbidden thoughts “I thought I was nothing more than a bounty to you?” You raised an eyebrow, fingers tapping on the arms of the chair. You were only his bounty… so... why this flirting?

Mandalorian laughs, as if sensing your thoughts, “Relax, I’m just playing with you.” He shrugged easily, “I brought you up here because…” He hesitated, immediately piquing your curiosity.

“Because?” 

He almost sighed a little bit, “Because you gave in. Usually, they only give in when they know they’re dead. They give in because they think I’ll let them go. But with you…” He tilted his head a little, ”I could tell it wasn’t that.”

Your eyes flickered over his helmet, debating whether or not to talk to this man. He was here on the request and money of someone who wanted you. But… it had been so long since you had someone to talk to… And your instincts weren’t screaming at you that this man was dangerous. In fact, they were oddly silent. “I gave up because… you were right. So many people have died because of me. Whether they were people that I knew, or people that were… collateral damage. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else dying for me. It makes me sick; I hate myself for it. Even if I had gotten away from you, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

Mando’s voice was almost… soft, “Why not?”

You swallowed, just knowing he must have seen it, “Because even though you gave me a choice… to give in or be dragged in dead... someone else would have come after me. Someone else who no doubt wouldn’t have given me that choice. And… I’m just tired.” You hated the way your voice broke on that last word, hated that you’d just revealed all of that to a Mandalorian of all people. But it had happened anyway. No more. No more talking.

He stayed looking at you for a long while, perhaps debating whether to say something. He just nodded very slightly, and then turned back to the controls.

 ~

The next few hours slipped past… easily. You spent some of it in silence, some if in just absent conversation, as if he wasn’t a Mandalorian and you weren’t a bounty handcuffed to a chair.

 He took you to another part of the ship when night rolled around – not that you’d know with the endless stars, but you supposed he had an internal body clock that ran a routine. It was a sort of storage room, cramped with boxes but it was warm and quiet, just the hum of the engines. Upon arrival, you’d noticed that he’d cleared a space in the corner, laid some blankets out.

You hadn’t been able to help expressing your surprise, “No wonder you have such a high success rate. This is luxury compared to what some of us bounties live in.” 

He’d shrugged again, but something about the way he held his body and his voice had sounded… bashful? “There’s not many sleeping spaces in the ship and… you’re not a murderer or a criminal so…” He shrugged, almost floundering, “As far as I know. I just… thought it might be more comfortable. Besides, I couldn’t leave you in the cockpit, who knows if you’d get that cat of yours to do something.“

“Mando. Thank you.” You had cut him off before he dug himself a deeper hole, the atmosphere becoming a little odd. He had let you lie down – then re-cuffed one of your wrists to the wall, and then went on his way.

 Sleep came quickly that night, exhaustion weighing your lips down again but not before you’d sat and pondering the last 4 hours in your head. You’d said more to him about yourself than you had anyone in… years. Weird. Best not dwell on it.

 ~

 A soft cry woke you what seemed like minutes later, echoing down from the belly of the ship. You sat up, awkwardly, one hand still attached to the wall, ears pricked and listening. It came again, a pitiful cry that you realised was the Child, who had seemingly woken up in the night. You listened for a while, waiting to hear if Mando came but he didn’t.

You couldn’t just leave the Child to cry… what if he’d had a bad nightmare?

Looking at the cuff on your wrist thoughtfully, you reached into your hair, braided back. He clearly hadn’t noticed, but you kept long pins in your hair, the pretence of keeping wisps back from your face. Really though, they were a weapon, specially crafted pins with sharp ends that would hurt an incredible amount if jammed into someone’s eye. They also came in pretty handy as lock picks and you’d used them on more than one occasion to get out of cuffs.

They were one of your most prized belongings. And they would come in perfectly handy right now.

Within seconds, you were free, padding down the hall quietly as you made your way up to the next level, following the crying.

You’d located his little compartment not long later and it opened at your touch.

Inside, bundled in soft rags and blankets, was Grogu. He was sitting up, his big bat ears hanging down and cries emanating from such a tiny body, straight to your heart.

You pouted a little, reaching in and gently picking him up, “Hey… none of that, little one. What’s wrong?” You held him against your hip, instinct taking over and you began to rock gently, your hand lifting to stroke his floppy ears.

Grogu cried still, little stubby hands curling into fists in your cloak as you rocked him. Maybe he’d had a bad dream after all?

You thought back, trying to remember when you were young, scared or upset and what your mother would sing to you. You looked down at the Child, the words coming back easily and then you began to sing, softly. At the same time, you began walking up and down in front of his compartment, adding a gentle rock still to give him a reassuring movement.

Almost at once, his cries stopped, instead turning to sniffly gasps of air and he tilted his head curiously at you, perhaps wondering what you were doing.

As if you could understand him somehow, you smiled around the lyrics of the song, just a lullaby your mother always used to coax you back to sleep.

It took you five repetitions of the song, countless steps up and down but finally, finally his little green head slumped against your chest, his breathing slowing and ears relaxing.

You let out a soft breath of relief, singing the song so quietly now, keeping up your routine just to make sure the kid stayed out.

 Unfortunately, other people didn’t seem to share that idea and footsteps came clanging down the hall, running. At once, Mando’s voice appeared before he did, “Leave him alone, whatever you are doing, put him down. You will NOT hurt him, I’ll-“ He rounded the corner, armour on and blaster raised.

“Shhhh!” You glared at him, cradling the back of the Child’s head and you hissed at the Mandalorian, “Do you want him to wake back up?! It’s taken me 20 minutes to get him to go back to sleep. If you wake him up, I will put you in the refresher until your precious armour rusts.”

He made a noise, his blaster still hovering in the air, “It’s beskar. It can’t rust. And you weren’t where I left you, your cuffs were on the floor and I couldn’t hear Grogu.”

He checked on you? Choosing to ignore that bit, you merely raised your eyebrows at him, “So you assumed… what? That I was hurting him?” You made a noise of disbelief, “Relax, tin can, it’s past midnight. I won’t turn into a child eating monster until tomorrow.” You shook your head, turning your back on him as you rocked Grogu again, walking back to the compartment.

His footsteps sounded from behind you, following you like a ghost, “You got him to sleep?”

You carefully disentangled Grogu from your cloak, placing him back inside his little nest. “Yes.” The word was clipped as you made sure he was tucked in warm and safe, shut the compartment and then turned to look at Mando, starting a little when you saw just how close he was to you and so you crossed your arms.

His helmet was tilted down to look at you and he slowly put the blaster away, “It usually takes me a lot longer to get him down.” His voice was quiet as he admitted this to you, “What was that you were singing to him? I heard you just before…”

You flicked your eyes over the visor of his helmet, wondering if you’d tell him. There was no harm in it, your mother was gone. It wouldn’t hurt her, “It’s a lullaby that my mother used to sing for me.”

He nodded a little after a second or two, “It sounded beautiful. Thank you… for seeing to him.” 

You mimicked his nod, loosening your arms to your sides, “You don’t need to worry, Mandalorian. I’m not going to hurt him. Or you. So you can stop acting like I’m a monster.” Please. It’s bad enough that I think that about myself. I don’t need another person thinking it too.

He stepped back, but his voice was soft when he next spoke, “I’m sorry. I know… It’s just instinct. You know, with the kid.” He gestured toward where Grogu now slept and his helmet lingered toward you before he turned and went back to wherever he came from, allowing you to go back to your space unattended. Clearly proving that he believed you.

It left you confused, this hot and cold behaviour, the lingering atmosphere.

-

The next day, the Mandalorian informed you that he was picking up another bounty on the way to wherever he was taking you. It wouldn’t take long, just a quick stop on a small industrial planet and then you’d be back on your way.

You merely nodded, keeping quiet today after revealing so much yesterday. 

He left you to your own devices, brining you up to the cockpit with him again, but not cuffing you this time. Like he trusted you not to kill him.

The day passed with little to no action, just travelling and idle chitchat and then you were back staring at the ceiling in your little nest before you knew it.

-

 Sleep must have taken you at some point, because when you woke up, the hum of the engines was silent. You figured you’d landed at this planet, so you got up, Duru back on your shoulders and went to look for Mando.

He wasn’t in the cockpit when you went up, but Grogu was in his cradle, so he can’t be far.

 A quick tour of the ship revealed nothing. Except that as you passed, you noticed the ramp was open, unguarded which was… odd. He wouldn’t just leave it open. You were a bounty, and he had a child that liked to explore. Maybe you’d just missed him somewhere.

You examined every inch of the ship twice more but… he just wasn’t there. All your search turned up was the weapons cabinet which he had seemingly left unlocked. It was extensive, holding many knives and daggers, blasters, grenades of different types and some things you’d never seen before. Impressive. Your bow wasn’t there, but your vibroblade was, so after a moment’s hesitation, you’d slipped it back into the sheath on your thigh.

Your footsteps seemed far too loud as you crept back toward the open ramp of the ship. Something wasn’t right.

Weapons cabinet unlocked. Grogu unguarded. Your cuffs left off and the ramp open. Had something happened to him?

Unless… unless this was a trap, and he’d done it on purpose.

Why would he be setting a trap? Where would I run to even if I did escape? He said he’d trusted me and he left me uncuffed.

A frown fell on your face as you reached the top of the ramp, staring into the empty street beyond.

There was no sign of him. No sign of anyone, actually. The street was almost pitch black, pockets of light beneath streetlamps providing the only clues to where you were. Jagged structures were silhouetted from the light, structures that look like metal, sharp edges and hard landscaping. Must be some kind of industrial planet. And where the light from lamps or buildings didn’t reach… were those red eyes glowing in the dark? Nevermind. It seemed clear.  So… do you go?

You bit your lip, fiddling with the edge of your cloak, booted foot tapping on the metal ramp. If he hadn’t done this to purposefully trap… you could escape. Wouldn’t have to face whatever was coming for you. You could back out of the decision you made back on Sorgan.

Something made you glance back, up at the ceiling where you knew Grogu’s crib sat in the cockpit. He’d be fine. He was safe in there. The ramp would probably close when you left it anyway.

You made a soft noise of annoyance at yourself, at your hesitation. Yes, you’d given up on Sorgan, but maybe you were a little hasty in that department. No matter. Time to go.

You squared your shoulders, lifting your cloak so it covered your head and Duru’s body around your shoulders and began to make your way down the ramp and into the quiet street. The air was a little chilly, smelling like oil, smoke and metal.

In the distance, you could hear rumbling, fighting almost. People came from the distance, rough looking people. Different species, some more humanoid with tails or claws, others straight up… monsters.

Okay… so maybe you should get off of this planet as soon as you could.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice the few people that were lingering about were sticking to the bubbles of light on the floor or coming from windows. If they had to cross through shadow and darkness, they ran through it quickly, really quickly.

Maybe you were right about the eyes in the dark.

A noise to your left caught your attention, a soft whine of a noise coming from a dark corner. You slowed down, something snagging at you. It sounded like… something was in pain. Something was hurt. You tilted your head, feeling Duru’s warm breath in your ear, wondering if you should help.

Another pitiful whimper rose from the darkness and had you walking over, stepping out of the light and into the shadow of the street. You looked around, blinking to get your eyes adjusted, looking for the source of the whimpers. You reached out, feeling for the edge of the building that shoulder be somewhere around here, but instead of feeling hard metal, you felt… flesh.

 Flesh?

 Yes. Warm, scaled, wet flesh. Something sticky dripped onto your hand, a low snarl coming above your head, and in your mind, you had a flash of some great, terrible creature, with those glowing red eyes, a mouthful of sharp teeth, dripping with blood-

Duru hissed, a warning yowl coming from her chest, her claws digging into your shoulder.

That decided it.

 You bolted, turning around and practically flying back into the light, toward the little bubbles of sanctuary and it occurred to you, that you probably looked as crazy as the other villagers.

Okaaay, maybe definitely NOT the best idea to leave the Razor Crest.

A shudder licked down your spine and you began to walk again, making sure to keep in the pools of light on the floor. You were at a bit of a loss. Do you go back to the ship? Or carry on going?

 Today was just full of decisions wasn’t it.

 You kept walking, aiming for the building just ahead that looked like a cantina, when a metallic thud resounded in the alley way next to you.  You kept your eyes planted firmly ahead, ignoring it. No more going into dark alleyways, especially not here.

 A familiar, raspy voice broke the silence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re wrong.”

Ah. Mando. So that’s where he was. No matter. Let him have a fight in an alleyway. He’d win anyway, obviously.

You shook your head, looking toward the cantina again but… it seemed your feet had decided to stop obeying your head. You were moving, but toward the edge of the alleyway, hiding against the corner and peering around the wall.

The Mandalorian was being pinned against a wall by a guy just as tall as him, human looking except for the long tail that rose from behind him, black and scaly and ending in a sharp looking barb that made your skin crawl.

“Liar.” The snarl was punctuated with the sound of Spikey pulling a knife from his thigh, shrill where he dragged it over the beskar- “There’s no one else around, Mandalorian so tell me. Now. Where. Is. She?” Each word was accentuated with a punch. “You’ve got her trussed up on that ship of yours? Give her to me.”

An uncomfortable feeling began to creep over you, like you knew what they were talking about. 

Mando grunted in pain again, his voice taut, “Get it through that thick skull of yours. I don’t have her.” He lifted his arm, clearly about to burn this creep.

Too slow. What was wrong with him?

The guy with the spikey tail grabbed Mando’s wrist and slammed it against the wall next to his head. “I know you have her. You had her fob in your pocket. She’s on your ship.”

 Because of you. He was getting beaten because of you. Why wasn’t he giving you up? Did he really want the money over your head that badly?  What was wrong with him? He always wins… why wasn’t he winning? You frowned, peering further around the alleyway and then it dawned on you.

Blood. Coating the armour of his knee, turning the metal slick and shiny red. It must have been bad, he looked like he could barely keep his weight on it.

 Spikey Tail laughed suddenly, leaning in close and kicking Mando’s leg, earning another gritted cry, “Oooh, you freak. You wanna keep her don’t you? Gonna turn her into a toy to keep you entertained on your travels? Must get lonely on that ship, I don’t blame you. She looked like she’d be a good little slu-“

His words were cut short, Mando’s free hand jamming into the guys throat, squeezing and choking off his air.

You saw the mistake just before the Mandalorian seemed to realise it himself. He’d left his side exposed, open to attack.

This was bad. This was really, really bad. You didn’t know why he was defending you, but he was. And because of it -

 A raspy, choked groan of pain brought you back to the present.

The guy with the spikey tail had seen the opening, jamming his knife in Mando’s side behind the armour plates, a cruel, long serrated blade. Spikey’s face lit up when he heard the noise of pain coming from the other man, and with a chilling laugh, he twisted the knife, pushing it in deeper to the hilt.  

Instinct took over and suddenly you were running down the alleyway, barely feeling Duru scramble down your body and run toward Mando. You were too busy careening straight into Spikey’s side. The force of your run and surprise allowed you to knock him back, away from Mando and land a sharp kick to his rib. You quickly sent a punch to his face, feeling a tooth knock loose before hands game up and pushed you back, toward the shadows at the edges of the alleyway.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing, bitch?!” Spikey’s tail flicked in annoyance as he moved back into the light, as if the darkness burned. Or bit.

As he came forward, his bloody face split into another grin as he recognised you,  “Oh. So, he DID have you after all. I thought you’d be strung to a bed, laying all pretty and open for him to get back.” 

A noise of disgust came from your throat, “What the fuck is wrong with this planet?” You leapt for him again, a swift uppercut to his jaw, and then into his throat. “Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of.”

Spikey Tail snarled, his head jerking forward and connecting with yours with a force that had stars bursting in your eyes. The distraction cost you a foot in your ribs and you swore you heard one of them crack. “Slut. I’m going to break you like I did your friend here and then get that bounty. Might even ask if I could keep you.”

You shook the haze from your head, trying to draw him away from the Mandalorian, “You talk way too much for being in a fight.” You lifted your fists, ignoring the screaming pain in your side, every breath you took. Feeling like shards of glass.  

A noise, almost like a snort came from the semi-conscious beskar-clad man behind you. It seemed he was thinking back to your fight on Sorgan.

You looked over your shoulder at him, raising your eyebrows but then, before you could answer, a hand was around your throat and you were thrown up against the wall. Quite literally, your feet dangled a few inches above the ground, held up by whatever freak strength Spikey Tail had.

“You fight hard. But you’re weak. I don’t know who they sent after you before, but they were incompetent. Even the famous Mandalorian couldn’t bring you in.” His hand tightened around your throat, making the already difficult task of breathing become even harder. “I never fancied myself a bounty hunter, but maybe I’ll change my mind once I get my hands on that big fat reward over your head” He leant in and the stench of rotten meat and stale alcohol washed over you, making you gag.

He laughed, and his tail came up and round him, the barb on the end dragging over your cheek and feeling like a lick of fire, “And then I’ll get my hands on you.” He looked down at you, as if he could see beneath your clothes, his eyes becoming glazed in a way that had your blood running cold, “I bet you feel so good. Imagine all of the things I could do to a little slut like you. The pretty noises you’d make for me.” His head tilted back up, coming closer to yours as he dropped his gaze to your lips.

You struggled, gasping for air as you felt your head swim, scrambling for your knife. 

Your power, use your power. Just use it, get him away, kill him, choke him. Just get him away from you and Mando- 

A blast echoed in the alleyway, and Spikey grunted in pain, slumping forward slightly. You saw your opening, finally grasping slick fingers on the hilt of your blade and you yanked it free of your thigh, swinging it up and jamming it into his neck.

He let go of you and went down instantly as you severed the arteries in his throat, spraying you with hot blood.

You collapsed to your knees, pushing his body away as you began coughing, working air into your protesting lungs. Nausea washed over you as the movement jolted your ribs, making you realise there had to be more than one broken.

You lifted your head, eyes searching and then you found him.

Slumped on the floor, head tilted to the side resting on his shoulder like it was too heavy to keep up, facing you. Movement had your gaze dropping as his hand fell to the floor, holding his blaster.

He’d shot Spikey, he’d… saved your life? Just like you’d saved his..

You stared at the Mandalorian for a moment, panting as you still tried to breathe, your knife still in your hand dripping blood. Suddenly, you let go of it and you were crawling across the floor to him, your hands knocking his out of the way and pushing against the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

Wait. What were you doing?

You blinked, looking down at your hands, then back up at his helmet. You could see your expression reflected in the visor. Your eyes were a little wide, a spray of blood on your face from the man you just killed, for the one who’s life you were trying to keep in his body. Your neck was ringed in red, the cut on your cheek bleeding slowly. 

Run. Leave him and run. 

He looked back up at you, slumped on the ground, one blood-soaked hand on his chest where you had pushed it away from his wound.  

Leave him. He’s only going to turn you in. RUN.

Your hands began to lift, but then stopped, hesitating and then returning as fresh, hot blood ran down his side. No. You couldn’t leave him here. 

Yes. You should. He doesn’t have any hope in getting up and coming after you. Find the fob, destroy it and get out of here. He means nothing to you and you mean nothing to him. You are prey and he is the hunter.

But… he’d saved you… and you had saved him. He trusted you.

You swallowed, your mind a frenzy of reasons, choices, trying to figure out what to do. Your survival instinct was screaming at you, run, run, run, but… Look at him. You could hear the jagged breaths coming through the helmet, static crackling through the modulator.

His attacker was already turning cold behind you, killed by your hand as easy as drawing a breath. You had saved the Mandalorian and now, he lay dying in front of you. If you ran, he would bleed out in a couple of hours, dumped in some back alley. His life was in your hands, literally, warm and wet and coming far too quickly.

This had to be clear on your face, in your eyes as you debated whether to safe yourself or him. Be brave or a coward. Act or run.

A soft noise crackled through his helmet, and you looked back up at him, but he said nothing. No sniping comments about being a coward, no pleas to save his life. Nothing. Silence. Letting you decide his fate as if deciding what to have for dinner.

 So… what should you do?

Previous chapter| Next chapter

[dreamescapeswriting]

The Stepmother ~ JJK [Request]

↬↬↬Word Count: 2.3K

↬↬↬Genre: Non Idol! Family man Jungkook, CEO jungkook, fluffy

↬↬↬Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x Fem!Reader

Jungkook was sitting in his home office saying goodnight to his kids, he was working late again so you were going to do the nice thing and put them to bed for him. He was always working late but thankfully he would come home from his office in the middle of Seoul to come and do his work, never wanting to be away from you and his kids for too long.

"Daddy do we have to go to sleep? We're not tired!" His daughter yelled throwing her arms up dramatically and twirling around. She was still dressed up in her ballet uniform, she'd put on a small show for you and Jungkook after dinner and insisted on wearing it for the rest of the night.

"You have school in the morning darling, your mum will be mad if we don't put you to bed." Jungkook was doing his best to make her see that going to bed was the right thing to do but she was grumbling about how she wanted him to put her to bed instead of you,

"Please Daddy we want you to put us to bed, not her." You looked down at the floor trying to ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach, you tried not to take it to heart whenever her or her brother would say things like that. They were kids so they didn't know the meaning behind their words even if she did say ''her'' with a harsh tone.

"Come on sweetie, your dad needs to work." You whispered taking her out of the room and into the hallway of the giant home that you and Jungkook lived in - the joys of living with a CEO meant living in a huge house you would sometimes get lost in.

"You did great today, how was practice?" You were trying to make conversation with a six-year-old girl who had made it clear she didn't like you, you'd hoped over time they would grow used to you but it never really happened. You figured it was because their mum was Jungkook's ex-wife that they didn't like you for breaking up their home - which you didn't do. Jungkook and you had gotten together long after he and his ex-wife had broken up and filed for divorce but you didn't blame the kids for blaming you. You had been the same when your father remarried, you didn't like the new girl either but you would do anything to make sure the kids were happy.

"Do you guys want me to read a story?" You questioned as they walked with you towards their bedroom door. Even though the house had more bedrooms than you did shoes Jungkook allowed them to share one room for now since they were still young. Inside there was a huge set of bunk beds with bedsheets in different colours. Each of them had their own side of the room which they had decorated themselves with Jungkook one weekend - it was a long weekend full of paint fights and laughter the house had never been so loud before. Somedays the relationship you had with the kids would be better than others. If you and Jungkook had them for a week they would warm up to you eventually, only to go home to their mum and come back as totally different kids. Yelling at you or spitting abuse in your direction but Jungkook would never do anything about it - mostly because he'd never really taken notice of it before. He was a busy man. You tried not to take it to heart whenever they would come back as different kids who hated your guts but it was hard especially when you and Jungkook had been planning your future together, you didn't feel comfortable being in their future if they didn't like you.

"Can you read us the one about the princess and the ugly step-mother!?" Jungkook's son called out as he rushed into his room and over to the step ladders that got him into the top bunk,  he had been the one that was nice to you first. He was a dead ringer for Jungkook as well, he had those same doe-like eyes that made you weak, honestly, the kid could get away with anything if he flashed his eyes around.

"Sure! Do you want the long or short version?" You teased knowing they would always opt for the longer one because it meant that they could stay up later than they shoulder,

"We should get the shorter one, mum is always annoyed whenever we tell her we get the longer version," You looked at his daughter who was packing her bag for school tomorrow and then climbing into her bed. She was mature for someone of her age, you smiled softly at her hoping she would smile back but she got into bed and turned away from you.

"Short one it is then," You whispered sitting down on a chair next to the bed to start telling them the story of Cinderella, you had it memorised in your brain from all of the times you'd heard it as a kid along with all the times you'd read it to both of them.

"Y/n? You won't be like the stepmother in the book will you?" You looked up at the top bunk to see Jungkook's son staring at you through the bars, you glanced at his daughter who looked quite scared as he asked that question.

"Of course not, why would you think that?" Neither of them spoke after that, they just turned around to listen to the rest of the story you were about to tell them but the question lingered in your mind.

"Do you think they'll ever like me?" Your question came out more nervous than you had intended, Jungkook was sitting in the bed with a report trying to finalise it before he went to sleep.

"They love you-" He could tell by the look on your face that you weren't about to buy into that same lie, he sighed placing down the folder and holding out his arms for you. Sighing you crawled into the bed beside him and let him wrap his arms around your shoulder,

"Y/n we've been over this. They just need time to warm up to you." Had he not realised it had almost been two years and they still didn't like you.

"Your daughter hates me Kookie," You whispered turning to face the front of the room instead of looking at him.

"She doesn't hate you she...She's stubborn like her mum."  He pulled you closer to his body promising you that he would resolve all of this somehow,

"Are you still dropping them off tomorrow morning with me? I hate the way the other mums look at me." You shuddered at the thought. They all looked at you like you were a home-wrecker. They'd all been friends with Jungkook's wife for years so it wasn't hard to see why they didn't like you but you would have thought they'd be more welcoming to someone who was looking after their friend's kids.

"Yeah, I have to speak to their teachers about something so it's a good thing. Will you get some rest? I have to finish this report first." You nodded your head leaning your head back to kiss him, he left a gentle kiss on your lips before you rolled over to sleep.

Breakfast that morning had been painfully quiet, the kids were keeping their heads down and barely speaking a word to either you or Jungkook.

"Look who's here," You heard someone snigger as you got out of the black SUV that Jungkook had insisted you drove to school in for the day. The usual gaggle of mums were all standing by the gates talking to one another while having their morning coffee's, you looked away from them not wanting to stare while they spoke about you.

"Driving his car now? Does he pay you to look after his kids?!" One of the bolder mothers asked smirking until Jungkook got out of the back seat carrying his son on his hip with his daughter holding his hand. He saw the look on your face and he knew what was happening with them,

"You coming with me?" He questioned reaching you and leaving a kiss on your cheek.

"No, I-I'll stay here with the car. You should speak to the teacher alone." You whispered not having the guts to walk past the mums who would no doubt have something worse to say, they were all dressed in posh outfits while you were in workout leggings and a hoodie - you saw no reason to dress up for just dropping the kids off. It wasn't a fashion show.

"I'll be out as soon as I can." He whispered kissing you on the lips and walking with his kids further into the playground, ignoring the flirty comments he got from mums as he walked by them. It was always the same but who wouldn't want to flirt with Jungkook, he was gorgeous.

"How do you sleep at night?" A voice came out from behind you and you knew it too well turning around to see Jungkook's ex-wife standing there, her hands on her hips as she tapped her heeled foot on the ground.

"Excuse me?" You were polite every time you spoke with her not wanting to cause any unwanted fueds between you both.

"How do you sleep at night? Knowing that you ruined my happy marriage?" You had no idea where any of this was coming from, but she began crying hysterically in front of everyone and you took a step back when the same gaggle of mothers rushed to her aid.

"Sleeping with a married man was one thing but then acting like the kids are you own! It's despicable." One of the mothers spat at you, so that was why they didn't like you? She'd told them you'd been sleeping with Jungkook when they were together which was far from the reason why they broke up.

"I didn't-"

"Go on! Deny it! This is why the kids will never! Like you." She yelled the crocodile tears disappearing as she launched herself towards you screaming about how she was always going to turn the kids on you. What both of you had failed to realise was Jungkook coming back towards the car, she had no idea he'd even been in the school.

"What are you talking about?" You asked as you stared at her,

"You think those little brats want to hate you?! I remind them every day not to be nice to you, telling them to ignore you and do the opposite because I know Jungkook will NEVER marry you if the kids hate you." She had a giant smirk plastered across her face as she admitted to all of this right in front of you, she knew all too well that you would never repeat a word of it back to Jungkook. You were far too nice for that but luckily for you, you wouldn't have to.

"Did I hear that correctly?" Jungkook came out from behind the gates where he had been hiding himself to hear the full story.

"You're turning our kids against the woman I love?" She began stumbling over her words while turning the waterworks back on. The other mothers were still cradling her body as if she was someone that needed to be protected,

"If you hadn't slept with another woman maybe this wouldn't have happened!" A blonde screeched but Jungkook pushed his hands into his suit pockets laughing softly,

"Is that what she told you happened? Shall we tell them the real reason we're divorced?" Jungkook pulled one of his hands from his pocket and stretched his hand out for you to take, you gladly did falling into his side and relaxing a little now that he was by your side. The other mothers began leaning away from his ex frowning at what he was saying.

"Should we mention the money you were keeping from me? The men you were seeing behind my back or should we mention the constant need to party almost every weekend which was why I was granted almost full custody." Jungkook had finally had enough of her treating you the way she did and now that she'd brought the kids into the battle he wasn't about to let her get away with everything he'd been doing.

"No...No Jungkook I was just-"

"You were just leaving. You'll hear from the lawyer in a couple of weeks, don't think for one second I won't file for full custody," He hissed at her pulling you in the direction of the SUV and helping you inside. The gaggle of mothers all left her standing there alone as she came to terms with what the lying she'd been doing had gotten her into.

"You can't take them away from me-"

"Yes I can and I will." He told her as he got into the car and started up the engine, leaving her there in the street while he drove off with you by his side.

"You alright?" He chuckled, you'd been the one to get insulted and yet you were the one asking if he was alright,

"I'm fine. How are you?" You shrugged your shoulders, none of their comments had ever really bothered you but at least you got to the bottom of why the kids hadn't taken too kindly to you.

"I'll talk to them later, but for now I have the rest of the day off...What do you want to do?" He chuckled leaning across when he got to a red light so that he could kiss you.

Tagline: 

@writingdreamsnottragedies​ @snowy-meowl​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @lynnthevirgo​ @lyoongx​ @mitzwinchester​ @fan-ati--c​ @rjsmochii​ @callingmyangel​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @taestannie​ @innersooya​

[fettsvette]

Heat

Boba Fett takes you on a faraway hunt that involves a prolonged journey through hyperspace. You’re horny as fuck, but your man is too preoccupied with running a tight ship to pay you any mind - until things get a little too desperate.

Pairing: Boba Fett x Reader Words: 3.0k Rating: Explicit Warnings: Edgeplay, teasing, rough penetration

Can be found on Archive of Our Own here.

Mando’a terminology

  ad’ika - little one

cyare - beloved

  mesh’la - beautiful

  -

  Another whine. 

  Another stomp of a boot. 

  Still no relief in sight. 

  You could be dying, and he wouldn’t even look at you. 

  “You need to settle down, ad’ika . I don’t have time for this right now.” Boba Fett warned sternly, his helmet just barely twitching to the side to regard you as you paced the cockpit, your footfalls having become increasingly louder and more obnoxious as time dragged on.

  The journey through hyperspace had lasted several hours already, and it was projected to go on for many more; and that’s if your flight plan continued on ahead of schedule. Why exactly Boba had felt the need to pursue a job all the way out in Wild Space, you had no idea. It was an average bounty, one that you frankly considered beneath his talents, but perhaps that was why he determined it had been safe enough to bring you along for the ride for once. Not that you really saw the point in your presence anyway; the thought of going on an adventure with your beau had thrilled you at first, thinking that the days would be filled with exploring strange, distant worlds together, the nights consisting of passionate lovemaking for hours on end. Instead, what you were getting was a whole lot of sitting around, staring out the viewport at the blue and white streaks of stars passing you by. The prospect of traveling at lightspeed had seemed exciting, but you truly hadn’t realized just how boring it actually was until you were stuck in the middle of it.

  Especially when the man you were on this sojourn with was much too preoccupied with fine-tuning every gadget and system aboard his prized transport, obsessively tracking the ship’s progress across the galaxy, rather than keeping his cyar’ika entertained.

  You couldn’t recall the amount of times your lover had told you to sit down, to be quiet, to climb up to your shared sleeping quarters behind the cockpit and take a nap to pass the time. He’d even threatened to lock you in one of the cages reserved for his hard merchandise down in the cargo hold until the Slave I reached its destination, but swiftly backpedaled when you expressed a little too much excitement at the idea. 

  You were desperate for Boba Fett’s touch, for his hand on your thigh, his lips on your neck, his thigh in between your knees, something - and he was purposefully ignoring you. No, he wasn’t just ignoring you… he was torturing you.

  It’d been days since Boba had touched you. He wasn’t even coming to bed with you, as far as you knew - when you’d retire for the night, he’d still be sitting in his pilot’s chair, motionless saved for his gloved hands running across the Slave I ’s dashboard, occasionally pressing a button or typing in some incomprehensible command. You’d wait up as long as your body allowed for the feeling of Boba sliding into the cot next to you, a well-muscled arm encircling your waist, his bare chest against your back, the outline of his thick cock pressed against your ass, but it never came. You’d arise hours later and descend the ladder to find him in the same spot you’d left him, or tinkering about down in the cargo hold, polishing one of his many blasters.

  The sight of him running a dirty, oiled cloth over the stock of the EE-3 model that had become his personal calling card, the blaster grease coating his rough hands, was enough to drive you wild, make you wish he was dragging the fabric back and forth between your legs instead. Hell, everything he did nowadays made you horny, from palming the thrusters in the cockpit upon exiting or entering lightspeed - ‘the only thruster he should be palming is this one right here,’ you found yourself thinking more often than not - to just seeing those large, powerful hands of his anywhere near the hard expanse of his thighs.

  You didn’t just feel aroused, or even simply sexually frustrated - you felt as if you were in heat , like some kind of debased animal left to rut against its master’s leg until it’s been kicked away. You wanted nothing more than to climb up on the console in front of the pilot’s seat and ruck your panties to the side, spreading your legs wide so he could see just how soaked you were for him, beg him to fuck you - or at the very least, bring you to some sort of release with a calloused finger or that deft tongue of his. You’d refrained from pleasuring yourself for the entirety of the trip so far solely so you’d be more than ready for him when he finally decided to claim you, but now you doubted if that time was ever coming. 

  “Boba, please. I’m suffering over here, and you’re just sitting there -” You began again in a high-pitched whine, not caring just how pathetic and needy you must sound. You could have begun weeping in frustration right then and there, had actually considered dropping to your knees in front of your lover, groveling at his boots for even just one touch. The ache between your legs was becoming more and more unbearable with the passing of each Standard Time Unit, to the point where sometimes you felt as if you were going to cum in your pants solely from walking around too much or positioning yourself in a chair a certain way, bringing yourself to a release from pent-up friction alone.

  But it was your accusation of Boba just sitting there that finally elicited a response, after days of being brushed off and outright ignored. His head jerked up with almost blinding speed, and he swiveled the pilot’s chair around to face you, his visor cocked to one side. His large hands gripped his knees tightly, his knuckles standing out sharply against the black leather of his gloves, his legs wide open. His cock was buried beneath several layers of the heavy black fabric that constituted his kama , but you swore you could still make out an impressive bulge nestled there in the lighting, and your mouth watered eagerly at the thought of him finally allowing you to take him in your mouth after so long, to feel his deliciously veiny member seated between your cunt lips.

  “I’m not ‘just sitting here .’ This ship is like an extension of myself. It’s as important to me as you are. I don’t expect you to understand that, but I need you to respect it. Hyperspace can be very unstable. Our coordinates and support systems need to be constantly monitored if we’re to spend this long a time at lightspeed, but now I see comprehending that is beyond your capabilities. Perhaps bringing you with me was a mistake, if you’re going to carry on like a selfish little brat for the remainder of our journey.” Boba retorted gruffly, shaking his head as if just speaking to you sickened him. His words felt like a slap across the face, and the corners of your eyes prickled harshly.

  You felt tears trickling silently down your cheeks, your face flushed hotly with the shame of not only being reprimanded by the man you loved, but the fact that despite his harshness towards you, you were fucking wet . You could feel the sticky warmth of your own arousal trickling out from between your inner lips and gathering in the cradle of your panties, soaking the thin fabric through. The fact that this man could berate you, insult you, and still you wanted nothing more than to throw yourself at him, beg his forgiveness, impale yourself on his girth over and over again until he filled you with his seed, was making you even hornier than you thought possible. Boba Fett had complete domination over every aspect of you, and it turned you on more than you could ever admit.

  “Boba… please . I’m sorry, I just… I need you so fucking bad.” You choked out, your voice nasally and piteous through your tears, your knees slightly buckling inwards in a half-assed attempt to stop the flow of wetness drooling out from your core. Boba gave a low hum and reclined back in his chair, his legs outspread even wider as he repositioned himself against the leather backing, seeming cruelly satisfied with the state he’d left you in.

  “Look at you. Are you actually weeping because you want my cock that badly?” Boba clucked his tongue disgustedly, but you could have sworn that he almost sounded in awe despite his tone. Your eyes flickered downwards when you noticed a slight movement of his hand, just in time to see him briefly squeeze at his obscured length, and you let out a throaty moan despite yourself. With a thinly veiled snort of amusement, Boba gestured in the general direction of your bowed, shaking legs, then raised his palm upwards, calling you forward with a quick movement of his fingers.

  “Take those off and get over here, girl.”

  You’d never shucked off your boots so fast in your life. You didn’t even bother untying the laces, hurriedly hopping from one foot to the next, pulling your feet from the restricting, clunky material in order to wiggle out of your pants and underwear as quickly as you could, panting and whining high in your throat in your excitement. You flung the garments off to the side, almost stumbling in your rush to get to Boba, and immediately reached out to grope for the seam of his trousers, beside yourself in your urge to free his heavy cock from its cloth prison. You were blocked by a firm, warm hand pressed flush against your chest, blunt fingers pressed into your breast and holding you back. Boba was chuckling at your need, a rumble that emanated from deep in his chest. The sound always went straight to your pussy whenever you heard it, so rough and sultry, and your clit throbbed.

  “Oh no , sweet thing. Don’t think your tears are going to get you exactly what you want. Like I said, I’m busy. If you’re that desperate to get some relief, you’ll have to work for it yourself. I’m not going to help you.” The sick glee in the bounty hunter’s voice was evident, and he aggressively patted his meaty thigh in order to show you exactly what he meant, when he’d offered to finally let you have what you desired. Boba made no move to get up or further adjust his stance, holding his palm open and again broadly gesturing to his outstretched leg, as if grandly offering you the best seat in the house in a Coruscanti opera. From the way your cunt was fluttering helplessly though, it may as well have been your throne .

  Shuffling forward and squatting daintily, you gingerly settled yourself onto the muscular sweep of Boba’s thigh beneath you, hissing sharply as the rough cloth pressed into the sensitive nub of your clit, wiggling the cradle of your pelvis back and forth experimentally to gauge what felt best. Boba gave no notice of your ministrations, he wasn’t even looking at you, and you glanced up to see that he had actually gone back to fiddling with the console of the Slave I as if you weren’t even there, as if your cunt juices weren’t currently soaking through the heavy fabric of his pants.

  And so you began to move.

  Gently at first, you writhed your pussy every which way in order to discover some semblance of balance, letting out pleased whimpers as your body gradually warmed to the sensation of your folds dragging along the black flight suit. Boba’s arms were outstretched on either side of you and you could hear him pressing buttons and occasionally typing in commands, completely ignoring the fact that you were currently rutting on his leg like an akk dog during mating season. His body betrayed his supposed indifference, though - with every thrust of your hips, your knee bumped his groin and you tellingly felt the generous erection sitting there, warm and heavy and hard. You attempted to reach out and grasp it, stroke him through his pants in time with the grinding of your cunt, but Boba batted your hand away as if you were a child being reprimanded for touching a hot nanowave stove.

  You continued to knead Boba’s thigh with your pussy, undulating your heat in stuttering figure-eight motions, a familiar tightness beginning to build in your lower belly, the scrape of the material against your swollen clit becoming overwhelming all too soon for your liking. Underneath your own needy whines as the sensation continued towards its crescendo, you could hear Boba groaning from somewhere deep in his chest despite his best efforts to ignore you and your lewd ministrations in his lap. 

  Your orgasm hit unexpectedly, triggered by an accidental bump of the edge of his thick leather belt to the hood of your clit, and you let out a guttural moan that sounded more animal than human. Days of pent-up release crested over you like the sand waves of Tatooine’s Dune Sea, over and over again, and your thighs trembled around Boba’s leg as your muscles clenched him. Your lover groaned appreciatively above you, one of the few signs he’d given to show that he was paying attention to your movements. You knew he could feel the flood of wetness from between your legs soaking into his flight suit, possibly through to his bare skin beneath, and that thought alone prompted another volley of spasms to your clit until you were utterly spent.

  Your breath came in harsh, almost painful pants, your legs shaking violently as you continued to hold yourself up, your bare toes biting into the durasteel floor of the Slave I beneath you. Boba sighed contentedly above you, the underside of his helmet nipping at the crown of your hair, one strong arm finally looped around your back, bracing you against his chest. You collapsed forward on the reassuring coolness of his breastplate, laying your sweaty cheek against the cold beskar as you shivered through the aftershocks of your orgasm. The relief you felt, after so long, was indescribable. You could have fallen asleep there in that moment, nude from the waist down, straddling Boba Fett’s thigh in the cockpit of his ship, drowsy on the rush of endorphins still flooding through your body. In your relaxed state, it took you a moment to realize that Boba had begun speaking, and you cracked an eye open as the gravity of his words hit you.

  “Kriff, you’re so wet, so beautiful for me. Are you ready, cyare?” He cooed sweetly, and before you could even question what you were ready for, Boba pushed you upwards slightly with his legs and his hold on you momentarily faltered, the sound of fabric being shuffled about filling the room. You then knew what he was up to and began hyperventilating in anticipation, wiggling your bottom as the Mandalorian worked himself into position beneath you.

  Boba pushed inside of you roughly, and you let out a choked scream, biting down on the swaths of black material circling his throat. Even though you had already cum, had been constantly horny for days, you still weren’t prepared for the sudden intrusion of Boba’s girth into your cunt, your walls spasming around him violently, the sensations too much for your overstimulated body to handle. Boba shushed you softly as you let out several overwhelmed sobs at the burning, stinging presence inside of you. You could feel the blunt head of him pressing against your cervix, an almost unbearable sharpness that you craved despite the discomfort. You knew you’d be able to feel him there for days after, and a pleasant shudder wracked your body.

  “Easy there, little one, easy . I’ve got you. Just stay still, mesh’la .” Boba attempted to shush you, patting your back and readjusting his hold on you as you squirmed and gasped in his arms, but you couldn’t stay still if you tried. You attempted to push your hips against his, get some semblance of a rhythm going, but Boba tsk ed, the light pressure he’d had on your waist becoming an iron grip, almost to the point of pain, and you stilled your movements, whining in protest.

  “Boba, please … I need to move …” You begged plaintively, tears once again springing to your eyes The laugh you received in response was almost sadistic in sound, and you moaned out of a raw mixture of pain and pleasure when Boba gave a slight roll of his hips, the head of his cock scraping your cervix. When he spoke, his tone was almost delightfully evil, and it made you shudder under his hold.

  “Oh no , sweet one. You’ve been such an annoyance to me for the entirety of our journey, and as I said before… I’m busy, and after the way you’ve behaved, I’m not going to let you get what you want that easily. Letting you get yourself off on my thigh was just a tease.” His gloved fingers lazily crawled over your exposed clit, and you hissed at the brief contact, before it was excruciatingly pulled away, Fett’s hand reaching back up to the Slave ’s console again.

  “You’re going to sit here on my cock until our next jump point, understand? Nice and quiet, now. If you try to push yourself down on me or wiggle around like a little brat, you’ll be banished to our sleeping quarters until we land, or until you learn to behave like someone your age. Is that clear, cyare?” His voice was sickly sweet, menacing, low and raspy in his throat. You could tell by that alone just how turned on he was, and his length twitched inside of you.

  Without waiting for a verbal answer, Boba gave another painfully slow roll of his hips, igniting that fire within your belly once more, and you groaned aloud in reply, burying your face in the dark cloth protecting his neck, choosing to ignore the dark chuckle. He could be so unfair, so karking cruel at times, but you always found yourself coming back for more… and you had a feeling he had no idea how much you were actually enjoying this.

  It was going to be a long trip.

[sagedgeek]

A Connection

Part 6 of The Whispers of Fate (A Rey Djarin fic)

Summary: Din’s latest acquired skills of parenthood are put to the test and Rey’s newfound awareness only grows worse... until a certain someone steps up to help. 

Rating: Gen (Platonic)

Word Count: 5.4k

Previous Chapter ~ Masterlist

Rey wakes with a harsh startle, unable to catch her breath.

She was too hot… way too hot! She violently throws off her blankets to rid herself of the suffocating fabrics and pulls in a harsh gulp of air. She leans forward to press her sweaty palms to the cool metal surface of the hull and follows them with her head to rest her clammy forehead there as well.

All she can remember are the pulses of interweaving light sparking red and orange like the flames of a fire… then black and white, clashing and warring with echoes of banging metal and the cries of dying warriors. Then there was Mando, and then no Mando; like he had never been there to begin with. And the whole time, she remembers the dark and painful sting of the baby’s projection crying out to her. Loud, painful cries always accompanied by an aftershock of buzzing and tingles. She couldn’t sever the strings from her mind and whatever spell the baby had put upon her was jerking her around like a puppet and she hated it.

The voices seemed to follow her too, although now they were only quiet whispers that she couldn’t decipher, and no matter how hard she rubbed at her eyes or ears they wouldn’t go away.

She felt exhausted. Her eyes stung and her face ached like it did when she just had a good cry. All she wanted to do was go back to sleep and hope the dreams wouldn’t follow her, but she knew they would. She could still feel that buzz dragging down her spine and nestling itself into the back of her neck.

It wasn’t a foreign feeling, but it was so much more prominent than what she was used to. She’s always had a small little twinge at the back of her neck, and a tiny tickle in her tummy, but yesterday all of a sudden it just got worse than it’s ever been. She knows when it happened… but she doesn’t know why it did.

It had been a sudden rush of something when Mando got thrown down by that hairy monster, and she’d been frozen in place lying in the squishy dirt where he’d pushed her and the baby out of the way. She watched him, the confidence that Mando would fight his way out diminished into fear which spurred a gush of warm tingles shooting to the tips of her fingers, like they were suddenly encompassed by the lick of flames from a fire. Still, she couldn’t seem to make herself move. And then the baby… he did something, she know he did, because as soon as the beasts feet lifted from the ground she felt that annoying itch in her teeth quite literally shatter into a cacophony of darkness, fear, and pain; she could feel everything. She could feel the baby, she could feel Mando, she could feel the wooly monster hovering in the air, and she could feel the tiny lizards skittering away from the scene. Everything. And it was so loud, and it scared her.

She shudders at the memory, then recalls another event the day before just before she went down to bed. The same thing happened… when she touched the baby. Only that time, instead of the darkness and fear having an unspoken face, it took the form of that familiar scene she’s encountered far too many times in her sleep recently.

Was the baby bad? He didn’t seem bad… but whenever she was around him she unwillingly fell prey to a fear and pain that she knew didn’t belong to her… but maybe he was just scared and lonely just like she was before Mando found her, and maybe she could help make him feel safe and happy again. He didn’t have reason to be scared anymore. Not with Mando there to protect them…

Speaking of… where was he? All the times she’s woken up on the Razor Crest, he was right here. She looks around one more time, just to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the eye, but nope, he wasn’t there. He must still be up in the cockpit with the baby.

It makes her a bit nervous, being around the baby again, but maybe if she didn’t touch him just yet things would be okay. The whispers were still just a little too loud ad she didn’t want to make them worse again.

She pulls her usual blanket over her shoulders and creeps up the ladder. The door hisses open for her and she shuffles in with her head dropped, gaze staring at her small toes.

“Did I wake you?” Mando asks softly without turning around in his pilots chair.

Rey shakes her head even though she knew he couldn’t see her. She was too busy staring at the tiny green baby peering out at her from his pram with a small coo. He was awake now.

… and her teeth start itching again. She hates it.

She turns from the baby, pulling her shoulders up and rushes further into the cockpit, right up to Mando’s chair. She hopes maybe he’d let her sit with him again. It was nice… he had made all the whistling whispers go away before when he held her, and the universe was quiet when she was around him… even now it was just a little more bearable.

She doesn’t want to ask though… so she stands beside him with her blanket wrapped tightly around her as she waits for him to figure it out for himself.

Finally, he gives into his curiosity and turns his head to look down at her. His head tilts to the side in question as it usually did when it came to her.

“Are you hungry?”

She shakes her head.

“Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head again.

“Thirsty?”

It spawns the same result.

Suddenly she caught a whiff of frustration from Mando as he shifted slightly in his seat.

“What do you need then, kid?” And that time the frustration was clear in his tone, and she felt like standing down, but she was stubborn… and she was feeling lonely and sad again and Mando was the only solution she could think of. She didn’t want to have to be by herself anymore; not after having to do it for so long on Jakku.

So, she took a single step forward and snuck her hand out from the blanket and placed it on the metal piece of Mando’s leg, staring up at him with big eyes and doing her best to communicate her need for comfort through the thin air of the cabin so she wouldn’t have to open her mouth and make the words say what she needed them to, because really, she had no idea what she needed. Everything was just a big old warbled mess and she couldn’t make any sense of it anymore!

Mando shifts slightly and his left shoulder slumps while his right leg angles further inward, and she knows he’s hesitant and confused.

“You want to pilot?”

She shakes her head. He wasn’t getting it… and he probably wasn’t going to without her telling him what she wanted and she just can’t do that.

She didn’t want him getting more irritated either. So, she sighed, and her chin dropped to her chest. She turns to walk away, sad she wasn’t able to fulfill her goal.

She doesn’t get very far though. Mando grabs her by the arm and pulls her back to where she was, right beside his chair without looking. He presses a button on the console while he adjusts a few controls then slowly turns his chair to face her, giving her his full attention.

He’d never done that before…

His back hunched slightly, to be better aligned with her eye line, and his elbows rested precariously against the metal covering his thighs as he tilts his head down at her.

“Tell me what’s wrong ad’ika.”

It was a bit of a startling contrast from the rigid Mando she’s grown used to, and she ends up biting the inside of her cheek and turning her gaze to the ground when a sudden wave of shyness washed over her.

Then Mando grabs her hand with his warm leather fingers, giving it a small tug to pull it away from her lips, where she was obliviously soothing on two of her fingers. His other hand lifts and he gave her a soft chuck beneath her chin to force her gaze up at him.

“I can’t fix it if I don’t know what’s wrong, ad’ika.”

Rey doesn’t know what’s wrong either! And that’s the problem! All she knows is she feels small and sad, and so, so very alone and scared. And this time she knows these feelings now belong to her… these were her own fears and memories pushing against the seams of the tight knot she’d tied around them in her mind. It had acted like a dark void for so long, knowing that if she ever ventured down that path, she wouldn’t be able to find a way out. And because of it, now she could feel this unknown weight pulling her down deeper into that cavern of dark thoughts, obstructing any light that tries to shine through. It only got worse when she came into the cockpit, so now she knows it’s because of the baby, and-and she doesn’t know how to fix it.

Mando soothes a thumb just below her eye, along her cheek.

“Don’t cry,” he pleads with her, and just like that the dam breaks.

The tears fall as the pressure finally finds its release. She reaches her arms up at Mando, forgoing any care she might have had earlier in her desperation for that alluring relief of safety.

Next thing she knows, she’s being lifted off her feet and settled into a warm embrace. It’s instinctive what she does next, because she doesn’t ever remember doing it with anyone before. She wraps her arms securely around Mando’s waist and nestles her face right into the cowl of his cloak. The hard ridges of his beskar armor and helmet, poke at her, but it wasn’t enough of a nuisance to deter her actions. The soft fabric soaks up her tears and she curls in closer as her sobs begins to slowly die down.

“Is this what you wanted, kid?” Mando’s voice took on a foreign sense of worry and affection and a large hand rested on the flat of her back, nearly covering it entirely as he rubbed soothing circles up and down her spine, chasing away the weighty pinch of tingles that have collected there for what felt like so long.

Rey didn’t want to admit that this is exactly what she had wanted, but she shrugged anyway, pulling her arms tighter around his waist to soak up as much warmth and serenity that she could before Mando could change his mind.

“Hey.” The rough edge to Mando’s voice returns in a stern scold, and Rey pulls back quickly like the metal of his armor had burned her. She flinches away from him, thinking she’s done something wrong. “I thought I told you to leave that alone.”

Mando’s hand doesn’t leave her back, instead it negates his words as he tries pulling her back into the embrace, using his other to situate the blanket back around her shoulders so she was still nicely cocooned against him. It was confusing, so she turns to look at him, unsure of why he was scolding her so suddenly when his actions spoke the opposite.

He wasn’t looking at her, instead his helmet was turned to the side, and she followed his gaze. She sees the baby standing on the console, just a foot or so away from falling right into Mando’s lap beside her. He’s holding out something round and shiny towards her in his claw. He looked sad with his big eyes drawn together by the big wrinkle at the top of his head.

Mando reaches out to grab it from him, but the baby was quick and pulled it out of his reach, closer to his body, and shoots him a look. His ears pull back, and his big eyes narrow to accompany a threatening purr. Mando grunts, and the baby turns away from him, ears wilting once more and eyes growing big and wide as he holds out the little metal ball towards her again with a soft coo.

On impulse, she reaches out to take the offered gift. Then she remembers the night before and she pulls back with a jerk and she stares at the baby in horror of what she had almost done. She turns back into Mando, falling against him and smushing her arms protectively between their chests.

“She doesn’t want it kid,” Mando says gruffly, and it’s followed by a sad coo.

Rey feels bad, but she doesn’t want the tingles to get worse if she touches the baby again… not when they’ve finally gone away again.

It’s okay… safe.

Her body goes stiff at the warm sentiment echoing in her ears, and she sits up a little more.

Warmth… no more tingles… she could feel him. It wasn’t like the other whispers.

Safe.

The presence blotted out everything else, acting almost as a shield for her own mind and she didn’t realize how much everything else had been weighing down on her until it was gone. She sagged forward against Mando, eyes almost instantly going droopy as she was finally able to relax. She peeked her head out at the baby… the cold press of Mando’s chestplate chilling the heat of tears on her fac and she looked up at the baby. His little ears quirk up as his head tilts to the side.

“Baby?” She squeaks.

He gurgles at her with a happy smile and he extends his arm to offer the ball once more.

This time she takes it, slowly and tentatively, but she takes it, fingers brushing momentarily against one of his tiny claws. And instead of a wave of alarm and panic, it’s an even stronger sense of warmth and security that rushes over her, almost like the physical connection had solidified the mental one.

Safe… goes the whisper again.

Rey hums, tears instantly drying and she shivers as the residual tension flushes through her.

“Thank you,” she whispers, feeling the lulling pull of exhaustion.

She pulls the ball close to her face and rolls it around her fingers. The metal was chilly to the touch, but it wasn’t bad… and she shut her eyes,

Her sleep hadn’t been restful before, dreams filled with noise and chaos, but now things were quiet…

She feels the small tap of a tiny claw caressing her cheek. She blinks open to find the baby right near her face, perched on Mando’s opposite leg. Two more small taps of his claws, and then a rush of soundless relief and everything goes dark.

***

“Kid?” Din shakes her shoulder when her small body suddenly slumps against him like every muscle in her body had given out.

She doesn’t move.

“Kid!” He shakes her harder. “Rey.”

She snuffled, a small hum which evolved into a quiet chirp. Her head tilts just enough for him to spy the relaxed smile she wore. He turns towards the baby.

“What’d you do to her?” He asks it, eyes narrowing suspiciously beneath his helmet. He’s seen the uncanny power the small child was capable of.

He plucks him off his lap by the back of his tunic and drops him into the pram like he did earlier, and tilts Rey’s head to the side with a soft grip on her chin, just to double check nothing was amiss where the baby had touched her. He found nothing and he gently pries the small ball from her grip and screws it back onto the gear shift and stands from the chair. He adjusts Rey in his arms, grasping the blanket that had fallen off her shoulders and tucking it back around her as he hikes her up onto his hip like he’d seen other parents do with their small children. And he must admit it is much easier to carry her this way. Much more efficient.

He treks back down into the hull, toeing at the jumbled mess of blankets spread across the floor. He bends to pick up a handful of them and uses his elbow to press against the control panel and open the door to the small storage space he uses as his own sleeping quarters.

He uses his free arm to arrange the blankets along the hard metal, hoping this way she might sleep a little better than she had on the floor. He lays Rey down on the blankets gently and he tucks the blanket around her sides then brushes away the hair in her face. He stares for a couple moments, still warry and unsure with the circumstances, but she looked at peace and nothing seemed wrong. So, he stepped back and closed the door.

He hopes she wakes before they land. He doesn’t want to have to deal with the aftermath of leaving her behind on the Crest. By his luck, she’d probably wander off on her own in search of him and end up getting hurt or taken by a skanky slave trader. Nevarro was not a crowd for unaccompanied children.

Din forces himself to trudge back up into the cockpit. He’s met with a mischievous baby mouthing on the same metal ball, and the beep of a transmission on his dashboard.

“I thought I told you to quit that,” he mutters, pulling the child, yet again, from the control center and dropping him back in the pram. Mischievous, this one was. He falls into his chair with an irritated grunt and spins towards the controls, quickly flipping through several switches now that Nevarro can be clearly seen through the viewport of the Crest. As he gets the the ship back on course, he plays the transmission from Greef.

He grips the controls tightly, stretching the cramped muscles of his fingers as he adjusts his grasp. He knows he’ll regret what he plans to do.

***

Din stares at the baby as they both sit down in the hull of the ship while they wait for Rey to wake. They’d landed in the shipyard on Nevarro half an hour ago, and Din could feel himself growing antsy as the minutes passed and Rey still showed no signs of waking up no matter how much he tried to shake her awake.

“What did you do to her?” He mutters, turning his head down to the silent child. He looks back up at Din with a curious tilt of his head and quiet chirp.

Din sighs. He braces his elbows on his knees and laces his fingers together as he stares at the closed quarters Rey slept behind. Whatever spell the child had put her under, it was definitely doing its job.

“You’re hard to read, kid. Not sure whether to hurl you off this ship or thank you…” He sighs and drops his head. “I could tell she didn’t sleep well.”

The baby cooed at him, and he felt the tap of a tiny claw patting his leg. Din looked at him and the kid stared at his visor with his big eyes, and his ears twitched while his head tilted to the side with a curious chirp.

“How long will she stay like this?”

He doesn’t know why he asks, the baby couldn’t kriffing talk for Maker’s sake…

But then the child’s big eyes slowly close and his ears pull back slightly as his small face morphs into the same expression he saw him make just before Rey fell into her deep sleep.

His eyes snapped back open, then blinked slowly like he was in a daze and Din reached out a hand to steady the little guy when he wobbled precariously.

He heard a quiet rustle from the compartment Rey was sleeping in, and he glances between the baby and the storage bay.

There’s no way…

He stands slowly from his crate and moves towards the compartment. And when he opens the door, sure enough, there she was, awake and rubbing at her eyes as she yawned.

She looked up at him and squinted with a small smile.

“G’mornin’.”

“Good morning,” Mando huffed in astonished amusement. “Are you feeling better.”

Rey sits up and continues to rub her eyes as she nods. “Yeah… tired though.”

Din pauses, thinking this might be the perfect excuse to leave her behind on the ship without her fighting him every step of the way. “I have to leave with the kid. Why don’t you stay back and sleep?”

Rey perks up, because of course she does, and she shakes her head adamantly. She vaults herself out the container, rushing for the clothes she had folded neatly in the corner, then to the fresher to get changed out of her sleepwear.

Din sighed.

It was worth a shot.

He turns around to face the kid, moving towards one of the storage cabinets overhead to retrieve a couple ration bars for whenever Rey decided she was hungry during their trek. He didn’t know how long they would be away from the ship.

He would have quickly eaten one himself while she was getting ready, but the child was there. So, he would just have to wait until tonight after Rey went to sleep.

He does break off a small piece though and offer it to the child as a silent thanks. He gladly takes it, mouthing on the rubbery piece of food.

When Rey joins them, he holds out the rest of the bar towards her.

“Would you like to eat now, or later?”

“Now please,” she exclaims excitedly, reaching out to grab the ration greedily. She takes one large bite, chewing viciously at the portion in her mouth then holds it out towards Din to share.

He shakes his head slowly, a small smile growing beneath his helmet and he reaches out to push her offered hand back down then uses his hand to gently pet her hair in thanks.

“I can’t remove my helmet, remember?”

Rey frowns, opening her mouth to speak while she still chewed.

“Why not?”

“I’m a Mandalorian. This is the way.”

She swallows.

“Oh,” her brows furrow and she stares down at the bar in her hand. “So, if I want to be a Mandalorian I have to wear one?”

Din nods.

“Can I still eat?”

He chuckles under his breath.

“Yes, you would still eat. You just can’t remove your helmet in front of someone else. You would have to eat alone so no one sees your face.”

Rey stares up at him, completely crestfallen.

“No one can ever see my face?”

Din shuffles on his feet. He knows the answer, but the matter regards his willingness to disclose it.

“Well…” he hesitates. He did not want to discourage her form becoming a Mandalorian; she would grow to be a skilled fighter, he knows it. Yet, he wonders if it were the best choice to reveal everything so soon. There were still so many variables that could change…

“If you were to become a Mandalorian… then only I would be able to see your face.”

Rey squints at him and asks the ever-dreaded question of “why?”, and he sighs.

“You would be my… my clan…” You would be my child. I would be your father. We would be Aliit.

“Oh,” she muses, frown dissolving as she thought about it and took another bite of the bar. “So… does that mean I can see your face too?”

Again, Din shuffles awkwardly. “Eventually.”

Rey grins at him, a wide smile to show off her missing tooth. “Then we can eat together! You won’t have to eat alone no more.”

Din blinks, a sudden sting piercing his eyes. “Yes.”

His answer is clipped and short, but Rey doesn’t seem to mind.

He turns his back to her to lift the baby off the crate and into his floating pram. Then, without looking back at her, he gestures with his hand for her to follow him and she obeys, trotting up to his side near the hanger door as she gnawed away at the remains of her breakfast.

***

Rey follows along beside him as they navigate their way through Nevarro once more. She holds onto his cloak, and he’s glad she does judging by how distracted she becomes with the baby. Any prior fears or grudges she held against the creature long gone as she giggled and poked him. The child loved it, cooing and laughing and chasing after her hands when she’d reach in to tickle him.

She trips over her own feet a couple times but is otherwise able to remain upright.

And about halfway into their trek, she tugs on Din’s cape.

“Can I ask a question?”

He nods.

“Where are we going?”

He turns abruptly into a small alleyway, his cowl tightening around his neck as his cloak is pulled taught by Rey’s ill-preparedness to change directions so suddenly.

“We’re dropping the kid off,” he answers, helmet nodding to the side to gesture towards the pram following beside them.

“What?” Rey whines, “I thought he was gonna stay with us.”

Din doesn’t respond. He knows she won’t be happy with any answer he gives her and simply lets her protest continue in vain. They descend a small staircase and come upon a heavy door.  He bangs on the metal with four loud knocks and then flexes his fingers to loosen the cramped muscles… he felt strange.

“Whoa!” Rey jumps back when the small droid pops out of the pillar beside the door.

Din holds up the card to be scanned and the door unlocks and opens with a hard screech. Out walk two storm troopers and Din can hear Rey’s audible gasp then immediately steps behind him. They stare at the baby then gesture for them to follow.

Rey grabs his hand and tries to pull him away from the door. “Mando,” she hisses, “those are storm troopers! They’re bad guys!” The baby voices his agreement with a disgruntled squeak, and the remaining storm trooper outside, waiting for them, stares at her.

Din wasn’t a fan of their piercing stare and he steps to stand between his gaze. Then he grabs Rey’s wrist and gives it an encouraging squeeze. He moves her hand to rest at the side of his belt, folding her fingers around the leather.

“Stay close,” he orders, and leads them through the dark threshold.

Rey watches the trooper that follows them in. She hangs tight to Mando’s belt

“Easy with that,” Mando grumbles, and Rey turns her head quickly to see the storm trooper in front grab the baby’s pram.

“You take it easy,” the trooper snaps back, walking even faster and pulling the baby even further from them.

Rey doesn’t think when she does it, she just senses the sudden wave of distress. She lets go of Mando’s belt, surging forward to grab the pram to try and yank it out of the troopers grasp. “Let go!” She grunts, tugging even harder.

“Hey!” The trooper rounds on her, pulling out a blaster aimed right at her head.

It all happened so fast she has to question if it actually happened. Mando grabbed her arm and hauled her out of the way so quickly it hurt her shoulder. He didn’t let go as she was shoved behind him. His blaster was already lifted, standing off against the trooper.

“Keep that brat in check Mando,” the trooper eventually muttered, slowly lowering his weapon. Mando follows his lead and soon they’re continuing down the hall once more, but now Mando had a tight grip on her arm.

He was mad at her…

She frowns and gives a small tug to try and loosen his tight grip, but he doesn’t budge.

“Yes!”

They enter a large room and Rey cranes her head to see the owner of the excited voice. It was an old man with white hair… she didn’t like him.

“Yes, yes, yes!” He approaches the cradle as she and Mando come to a stop just behind it. Then a guy with glasses rushes up to join the old man and they both stare down at the baby.

Rey wants to jump in front of him to protect him from the two strangers, but Mando must have sensed her plan because his grip tightens even more around her arm and he tugs her even further behind him. It twisted his arm in a weird way, but he didn’t seem to care. Now she couldn’t see what they were doing, but she heard the baby make a sad noise and her skin tickled with a wave of panic.

“Very healthy. Yes.”

She frowns. She wanted to know what was going on! The tingles were just getting worse and worse and she knew that the baby was scared. She tried tugging out of Mando’s grip again, but he didn’t let up.

“Your reputation was not unwarranted.”

“How many fobs did you give out?”

“This asset was of extreme importance to me. I had to ensure its delivery…”

Rey shivers, mouth going dry as she peeks out to see the old man walking away from them, headed for a long table in the middle of the room.

“…but to the winner goes the spoils.”

Mando follows him slowly, and Rey is tugged along behind him. She didn’t want to leave the baby alone, but Mando was just leaving him there! She didn’t know what to do.

She saw the weird man with the glasses grabbed onto the cradle and pull him away. Rey gasped and the baby looked at her with a fearful whine. He was scared.

She revived her effort to pull away, tugging with an angry fervor and whined with an angry grunt when the effort proved fruitless.

“Now who is this?”

She feels Mando go rigid and slowly his grip on her arm loosens enough for her to step out from behind him. She’s sure to use her best glare as she comes into view, and the old man chuckles. She wasn’t going to be scared of him.

“I have to say, I did not expect a man of your distinction to be caring for a child.”

Rey looks between the old man and Mando to determine the best opportunity to bolt to the baby and save him from the mean old man.

She forgot how good Mando’s reflexes were though. As soon as she jumped into action he grabbed the back of her tunic. She fought him, the growing desperation of the baby’s tenor urges her to act.

“Let me go!” She tries reaching back behind her head to slap at his hand. When that doesn’t work she twists and pulls, which only ends up tangling her in her own clothes.

Nothing was working and the baby was leaving now. He stares at her, looking sad… and Rey slumps with defeat. She failed. She failed to protect her new friend.

“He’s scared,” she pleaded. “Mando don’t make him go. He doesn’t wanna go with them. Please.”

She quiets when she sees the angry scowl the old man shoots towards Mando. “How unprofessional, bringing a child of this disposition to such a significant business dealing. I expected more from a man of your reputation.”

Mando didn’t move or say a word for a long time. Rey stares at him with tears growing in her eyes. She refused to cry in front of these people. So, she moves forward to hug his waist in a last ditch effort to convince him not to leave her new friend behind.

But he ignores her and reaches up to close the canister holding his hefty payment. It seals with a hiss and a click and he lifts it from the table then grabs her wrist with his other hand, prying her off him.

“Couldn’t find a sitter.”

And with a shrug Mando turns, walking past the troopers, and headed for the exit. Leaving the baby alone in the hands of these people with the dark hearts.

[june-girl-86]

Chapter 37

Finally they reach Gelgelar. The silver lining is giving them trouble and they hope it can be repaired. And then they actually find the one who can help them find Din's family. They learn quite a bit about the Jedi, the Force, and how everyone interprets it differently. Din has to try out the Force without being skilled at it. Will it work?

We are now on Gelgelar. On Wookiepedia there is information about the planet and the respective persons. I borrowed a few and wrote them suitable for me.

The chapter has become a little long, so it will be two parts.

The lyrics are from Anastacia from Time

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC Female!

ReaderRating: Mature/Explicit (+18)

Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence / Love / Action&Adventure / Blood&Violence / Drama & Romance / Slow Burn / Fluff&Smut

Several loud alarm tones blared in the cockpit and the instrument gauges flashed persistently. Liara looked down into the cargo hold, where Din was kneeling in front of the open hatch, examining the wiring harnesses. There was no discernible source of failure there, according to the data. While Liara heard Din's annoyed "Dank Farrik," the silver lining jerked so hard that she was pressed against the wall and had to hold on to keep from falling down the opening. Another jerk and they suddenly jumped out of hyperspace. Liara rushed to the controls in case she needed to intervene, but she could already hear Din climbing the ladder to the cockpit.

"I'd say the lights have gotten even redder by now!", Liara informed him. Din sighed and took a seat in the pilot's chair. He deactivated one of the thrusters at a time, and after the restart, at least the alarms stopped. He rubbed his forehead thoughtfully.

"I'm afraid I can't find the problem. But we'd rather lose half a day than the entire engine!"

Liara nodded and took a look out the window. Deep blackness, only isolated small glittering dots could be made out in the distance. Somewhere there lay Gelgelar. Din grumbled, he wasn't just pissed about this problem. The message they had received from Boba made them both angry and sad. In Din it worked, as she knew him, he would like to turn back and look for the murderer of Ezer with Boba. But the fact that two former companions had been found alive had also triggered something in Din. She had noticed his fitful sleep and the bags under his eyes. At least the doctors on Nevarro had taken good care of Cara and she had woken up from her unconsciousness. Unfortunately, she didn't want to talk to anyone. Karga had also sent them a message about this, suggesting that Cara had suffered more than just external wounds from her torture.

While Din concentrated on steering the silver lining, his thoughts still wandered, remembering that he had been on Gelgelar once before. After Liara had told him where Dar was sending her, it had come back to him. He had not long joined Ran when they received an order. They were to get Shvash gas, which was plentiful and mined on the planets. It had actually worked brilliantly, the containers had not been secured at all at the time. Presumably it would not work so easily now, they had certainly learned from the theft. He wondered if he had found his clan, but there had been no signs of Mandalorians and he hadn't really looked around for that reason. A beep snapped him out of his thoughts and he noticed the information on the navigation panel. They had almost reached their destination.

Liara listened in amazement to the strange sounds Din made. He had never said that he could speak Sullustan. It sounded a bit bumpy and he seemed to swallow words every now and then, but the Sullustan on the other end of the line seemed to be satisfied with it and to understand everything. No one was allowed to enter Gelgelar without registration, otherwise there was a danger of being shot down, or of being blown off course by the strong winds and bad weather. The Sullustan guided Din through the dark, almost pitch-black towering clouds, the currents therein causing the silver lining to wobble, and Liara noticed how tense Din clutched the control stick. She clawed nervously at the padding of the armrests as it began to vibrate more violently and closed her eyes. She was somewhat reassured by the recurring voice of the Sullustan, as she hoped he would surely mean them no harm and let them fly to their doom. She exhaled in relief when it stopped again after a few minutes and they left the cloud, or had there been several. But then the alarm went off again.

"Dank Farrik!" cursed Din, and immediately resumed babbling in Sullustan.

"What's wrong?" asked Liara anxiously, eyeing the red warning lights reflected in Din's beskar. Din waited for the answer from the radio, then glanced briefly over his shoulder.

"He gives me a place in the spaceport, which is right next to the workshop. He receives the data and also sees that the silver lining has problems!"

Liara nodded. The statement only half reassured her, she hoped the silver lining would hold out until then and they wouldn't crash before then. She stretched in her seat to get a better look out the windows. Tens of raindrops pattered on it and ran down it. She couldn't see much of the surroundings except for the woods. In the middle of it in the open spaces were large tanks and Liara wondered what was stored there. They flew over several settlements, lanterns illuminating the small paths and metallic dwellings. It took a while longer, then the spaceport appeared in front of them. Light poles made this place seem almost daylight, among all the oppressive darkness.

"Don't forget that due to the thin atmosphere there is no optimal oxygen quality. The bad weather and the dense clouds, do not let pass since some days the Shvash gas, which escapes during the extraction in the fields. Therefore, when leaving the spaceport, they immediately put on the breathing mask, usually you can move without it for a few minutes. It is not dangerous for small children. If you don't have a breathing mask with you, Outfitters, Qulo's store, has 5 for the price of 2 today only. Hit them up, you can never have enough in stock! In the city there are information boards about the current oxygen level. Have a nice stay!"

The Sullustan said goodbye on Basic and ended the connection. A green flashing arrow on the landing pad directed Din to his parking spot. The silver lining jerked, then touched down softly anyway. Din expelled the held air with relief and shut down the thrusters.

"Well flown, Captain!", Liara smiled at him and squeezed the free part of his arm between the armor.

"It's been a long time since I needed Sullustan. Last time Ran helped me communicate!"

Liara who was leaving the cockpit and already standing on the ladder looked at him in surprise.

"You've been here before?"

Din nodded.

"Quite a long time ago, when I had newly joined Ran. Not much will have changed here in this bog hole!"

"What were you doing here?"

Din pursed his lips.

"Running errands without paying..."

Liara waved it off, preferring not to be so specific after all. Din followed her down and pulled a box out of one of the storage rooms. He waited until she had put on her coat, then handed her the equipment with the breathing mask.

Din could do without a mask; he was protected by his filter in his helmet. Voices could already be heard coming in from outside and he lowered the ramp.

When they left the silver lining, they were greeted by cold air mixed with the exhaust fumes of a starhopper that was just taking off. They saw a few lambda shuttles and freighters standing, the latter being unloaded and loaded. A few Twi'leks and Quarren were working in the field alongside humans and Sullustans. Several Jawas had loaded a mountain of scrap parts onto a cargo speeder and were pointing to a transport ship. Liara grinned. The little guys were all over the place, though. A Sullustan woman, her work clothes covered with oil stains, approached them and looked delighted.

"An old wookie! A treasure like that hasn't landed here in a long time. Or Taku, do you remember visiting?"

A Le-Bo maintenance droid trotted up behind her, dragging a clattering repulsor cart behind it, with all the tools inside. The droid answered in the negative and stopped.

"But I remember you for this! Different armor, but still the same thief! Where did you leave the long-haired one?" the mechanic said, pointing at Din. He stiffened slightly and the Sullustan laughed.

"Are you always this easy to figure out Mandalorian?"

Liara looked nervously at the two, guessing that Din was scanning the spaceport to see if there was any danger. But it didn't seem like in the next moment, policemen would jump out from all corners. And the mechanic also openly extended her hand.

"This planet is full of smugglers and criminals. You didn't expect someone to arrest you for what you stole here ages ago, did you? Maybe the freighter captain is still crying because he couldn't sell the actual amount. And even if he did, he's one of the many cheats because they don't pay the farmers properly. But the idiots can be told that so many times. As long as there's no one there who wants to be a millionaire, I guess they're happy with this one!"

A rumbling sounded, a few parts of the Jawas had made themselves independent and had fallen from cargo speeder . Now the clamoring began and the Sullustan sighed in annoyance.

"Look at the Jawas. I can't imagine anyone just letting them have this stuff. There's probably a spaceship or a house falling apart somewhere! But all unimportant, let me introduce you. I'm Nofre Ecls, I own this place!"

Din stared open-mouthed at the small woman under his helmet, still slightly shocked. Liara rolled her eyes and held out her hand to Nofre with a grin. She found the stranger sympathetic, who could certainly get along with Peli. The question was, who would be more likely to speak at these meetings? The Sullastan giggled and slapped Din on the back with amusement. Likewise, Liara touched him on the shoulder and he relaxed slightly. He cleared his throat and watched as the mechanic looked at the silver lining.

"From the sounds of it, there's something wrong with the drive!"

Din nodded and Nofre smiled. She pointed to a freighter further back.

"You're lucky, we got another supply of spare parts today. Completely. Last time the freighter was attacked by space pirates! I'll take care of the good stuff!"

"Thank you!" said Din, finally regaining his speech. Nofre instructed Taku that he should connect the diagnostic device and read the fault memory.

"Yes boss!"

The droid plodded past them, Liara noticing that it was dragging one leg a bit. Nofre noticed her glance. She spoke behind her hand in their direction so the droid couldn't hear.

"He's our senior, I've had to mend him so many times. I couldn't bring myself to take him out!"

Din thought of Kuiil at this. Here he would have a great time restoring things. He sighed as he remembered the Ugnaught and its trust in IG-11.

Nofre eyed the two curiously.

"You don't look like criminals or smugglers now, your visit aside. What brings you here? The weather certainly doesn't, the sunniest hours won't come for a few weeks!"

"We're looking for my family. We got the hint that Dagli could help us!"

Nofre frowned.

"You mean the Clan Djarin that lived here for a few years?"

Din winced when he heard the name and stared at the Sullustan in surprise from under his helmet.

"You... you know the clan?"

Nofre nodded eagerly.

"Of course. They weren't here by the time you arrived, though. Dagli took them to their new home. Oh I miss that old girl!"

"You mean they're gone?" asked Din, his voice trembling slightly, and Nofre confirmed it. She wondered a little at his excitement.

"There was a bit of law and order here, everyone had respect for the Mandalorians. I think the old wise man can help you out!"

"Who?"

Nofre laughed. She was aware, so much information at once overwhelmed them both somewhat.

"He lives in the shrine of Kooroo, he is very wise and connected to power. And he entertains the tourists when a few daring ones get lost here!"

She glanced at her watch and held out her arms to give them a lift.

"It's time for lunch. I'm sure you're hungry, too. I'll take you to Thulls. He owns Eel, the inn. His predecessor cooked so terribly that there was often food poisoning. Somebody killed him when he tried to open Eel's. Who could blame him... But Thulls is a true artist, cooking really tasty things from the little we can harvest here ourselves!"

They left the spaceport and Liara put on her breathing mask after Nofre reminded her. She, too, was wearing one. That didn't stop the Sullustan from yakking on, though, and Liara was already wondering if Peli hadn't put on a costume and was possibly underneath.

They walked down the hill on which the spaceport was built, past the general store that sold the breathing masks, and they could now see the small town. It was only drizzling lightly, Nofre was happy about that too and apologized for it over the stench. A channel ran centrally over which plates were laid, but from the cracks the foul smell still made it out. And again and again garbage lay on the side, moldering away.

When they reached the first buildings, they immediately noticed that most of them consisted of the plates of protective covers of old spaceships and some looked quite crooked. Next to residential buildings were small stores for clothing, then a baker, whose fantastic mushroom bread Nofre raved about to them. The local mushroom, Vohis mold, grew in the swamps and was also exported in large quantities.

"You must definitely, before you leave again, get the bread powder to mix yourselves!", Nofre gave them the tip and then pointed to a colorfully illuminated sign. This indicated to them that they had reached the Eel. They were astonished, it consisted mainly of the wings of TIE starfighters.

A pleasant warmth that made them forget the fresh wind blowing outside the door greeted them as they entered. The theme of old parts continued inside as well. The lamps consisted of spotlights and interior lighting, tables from the wings of all classes of starships, the chairs and benches from a wide variety of starships. The size and colors didn't really match, but it was an unusual style. The inn was well attended, but everyone's conversations and a group of Twi'leks' card game, ended abruptly when a Lannik sitting alone at a table jumped up, his chair tipped over in the process, and pointed his blaster at Din. All pairs of eyes, including the one of the Twi'lek with the eye patch, were on her. There was a certain tension in the air. The background music suddenly sounded loud enough for the Ithorian behind the counter to let out a yell, which still sounded friendly to the species. In his hands he held a rifle, but aimed at the lannik. Din seemed less dangerous to him.

"You there, bounty hunter. You got a puck on anyone here?"

Din, who had now also drawn his blaster, shook his head.

"No, I'm just passing through!"

The Ithorian nodded and gave the Lannik a dirty look.

"Put the blaster down, or you won't need to show your face around here again!"

The Lannik hissed back, but put the weapon away and sat down again. Still, he kept glancing cautiously over at Din. Everyone else turned their attention back to things before they were interrupted.

Liara took off her mask and wiped the sweat from her brow. Nofre put a hand on her arm reassuringly.

"No one has died in here yet!"

She pointed to a sign on the wall.

Shootings outside please, the rain will wash away the blood!

Liara snorted, though she hadn't really felt like laughing just then. Nofre led her to the counter, where Thull greeted the newcomers and eyed them curiously.

"Has the old man been here yet?" asked Nofre. Thull replied in the negative.

"I guess he'll be back chatting with everyone. The older he gets, the later he gets here!"

Nofre laughed out.

"Then I would go ahead and order food for us. Thull what do you have delicious on offer today?"

"Reeho stew in Vohis mold sauce!"

Nofre nodded.

"Please three times then. I invite you!" she informed Din and Liara and the two followed her to an alcove where they could talk undisturbed.

Din took off his helmet, Thull brought them a big jug of water to drink and disappeared again. Liara looked around curiously. In a recess in the wall a fire was crackling in a fireplace, next to it was a music box, where a Quarren was critically examining the selection. After he could not decide, he let it stay and sat down back with his friends. From the kitchen, dishes could be heard clattering and the typical beeping sound of a droid.

Nofre explained to Din, who had asked about it, that the Reeho was a native, beautiful colorful bird. Its only enemy was the Glasaur, which resided in the swamp forests they had surely seen on their approach here. Whereas this relatively intelligent lizard had quickly found out that they got longer from Sullustans or humans than from such a bird. So the Reeho multiplied after the Glasaur ignored it, and in one year almost wiped out the entire mushroom harvest. Since then, it has been open for hunting.

"Not only does it taste exquisite. The feathers also have value and are exported. I heard they are used mostly for dream catchers!" ended Nofre's report, toasting the two with her glass. Liara returned it and while she drank, she glanced out the window that was behind Nofre. A few raindrops were thrown on the window pane, then she noticed how a Trandoshan stepped out of the house across the street and threw a large ball of cloth and plastic to the floor and tied it with a chain that was attached to the wall. He left again, but the bundle moved and she could make out a small hand. Liara almost choked.

"What?" she groaned, and Nofre turned curiously to see what was going on outside. Her shoulders shrugged at that as she spotted it.

"Oh he let her out again. We were beginning to think he sold them too!"

Nofre noticed the questioning looks as she turned back to the two.

"Boyk, he deals in weapons and his other Trandoshan friends like to riot when he gets it on them. Most of the time they just scare the visitors, they leave us alone. After all, it would be stupid to attack someone who could still be useful. However, his preference for human children makes one quite sick. There are two big settlements here in the swamps, one is mainly inhabited by human farmers, they have been here for a long time and when our kind settled here, the colony was just too full and another one was established. Whereas it has stagnated for a few years and only a few farmers want to earn their money here. Probably because the work on the Shvash gas fields is not without danger and there are not only injured people. If smaller bubbles go up, it's not bad, but in the last big catastrophe two years ago, we had countless fatalities. It was terrible. We only have one doctor here, but he couldn't really do anything. Well, Boyk took advantage of that. The farmers work together, but in the settlements everybody still wants to be for himself. And so nobody cared when Boyk took the children whose parents didn't survive. Five children he sold, the survivor as we call her he kept. She also became an attraction for the tourists who put their money. The child has none of it, he takes it from her. Now we haven't seen her for a few weeks and we thought maybe she was finally free in a way. Either she was sick or he needed her for other things. I don't even want to imagine!"

Chagrined, Nofre glanced out again at the wet street. The little hand had found a stone with which to slide along the wall. Liara was horrified and looked at Din, stunned. He could read him her eyes what she was thinking, but he shook his head. It was too dangerous to make trouble here and Liara knew that herself. She sighed and Din squeezed her hand.

Before they could talk about the subject further, their food was brought to them, which smelled exquisite and, as they then discovered, tasted just as good.

They had just finished eating when the door opened and an older man with a long gray beard, a red bead woven into the top of it, pulled down his breathing mask. His yellow hat added a bit of color to the drab surroundings and Nofre jumped up.

"We've been waiting for them!"

He looked first at the Sullustan, then curiously past her to see who we should be, and spotted Din. He jerked both arms up and waved his staff.

"How long do you Mandalorians actually take when you ask them to come to you?" he grumbled, and Din pointed at himself, perplexed. The old man nodded. Nofre offered him her seat and took her leave.

"I've got another ship to fix!" she said, winked at everyone and left. Meanwhile, old Thull called out that he wanted the dish of the day and shook himself.

"Now I've been here so long, but I still haven't gotten used to the weather!"

Then he leaned back, folded his arms and looked at Liara and Din.

"Well I am Glovan Thule. But no one has called me that in a long time, and I have to keep reminding myself. You can also call me wise old man!"

He winked at Liara and she smirked. Thull set his plate down for him and they watched him shovel the food into himself as if he hadn't had anything to eat in weeks. After he had finished, he waved to the Ithorian, who, without Thule saying anything at all, brought him a reddish liquid in a narrow glass. He drank it all at once and his eyes began to shine. The old man rubbed his belly and grinned.

"The most delicious liquor in the galaxy! I'll be happy to buy you a drink!"

They both declined with thanks, but Din cleared his throat and Thule looked at him.

"You're still wondering about my statement. So that brat of a Twi'lek didn't tell you anything?"

Din denied, guessing who the old man meant. Thule ran a hand through his beard and played thoughtfully with the red bead.

"Thought she might steal from me. Was at work in my quarters under the shrine. She made acquaintance with my wooden staff. Probably thought she could scare me with her knives. Then she threatened me that she was on the way with a Mandalorian and he would come and kill me. That's when I told her I'd actually like to meet him. So many Mandalorians haven't strayed here yet and I thought maybe it could be the one Lean had been looking for all these years. And that nose can't deny being a Djarin!"

Din clenched his fists, he was so angry at Xi'an. He probably would have found his family by now, but she had kept it from him. That time in Ran's group, he really thought at the time, they were comrades to be trusted. Well he knew now how wrong he had been. Liara noticed how this information worked in him. Her hand rested reassuringly on his knee as he bobbed his leg up and down.

"The Neti Dar has given us the clue that Dagli can tell us where the clan is!" she explained to Thule. He nodded.

"Yes Dagli was already here when I arrived on Gelgelar. She stayed in the shrine and kept in touch with the hidden worlds. Dagli helped the clan leave for one of the worlds and flew with them. They didn't tell me the coordinates, unfortunately!"

Din lowered his head in disappointment, so here was the end of the journey. He noticed a strange smile from the old man out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't give up yet. I'll help you!"

He said nothing more about it, however, but pulled out of his pocket a pipe and tobacco. He calmly stuffed it and then smoked his pipe with relish.

An hour later, the three of them left the Eel and headed for the shrine, because Thule Din now wanted to explain how he could find out where his family was. After a few minutes, they had reached the city limits and the paved road ended. The canal that ran along below it now meandered through shrubbery, into the marsh that was beginning. From here they could see the shrine that had been built on the hill. They followed the rocky path, which was slippery in places due to the wet weather. Plants had grown on the rock despite the adverse conditions. Liara noticed a tall shrub, whose flowers looked black with white stripes very interesting. She was tempted to smell it, but at that moment she remembered that it didn't work with the breathing mask. The old man took a few steps back to her.

"You wouldn't believe it, but the flowers are just for distraction!"

He pointed his staff at the base of the plant. There, in a clump, grew many bluish-looking fruits, their skin scaly.

"Our lizard fruit camouflages itself in green most of the time, just like the glarsaur. You can actually find it mostly in the swamp forests. Now that it's ripe, it gives away its pretty color. Go ahead and grab them, they taste delicious. Thull makes this delicious red liquor from them!"

Liara didn't hesitate for long, harvesting the fruit and putting it in her bag.

"Don't throw the peel away. Let it dry and if you have a cold you can use it as an infusion or tea!", Thule informed her. He brushed Liara's hand as he walked off and she felt a slight tingle. He looked at her piercingly.

"You are power-intensive!"

Liara nodded.

"My mother was a guardian, my father from Din's grandfather's clan! Both are sadly no longer alive!"

Liara pulled the small brown leather pouch from her pocket and showed him the contents. Thule clasped the pouch and her hand with his. He inhaled deeply, as if he was regaining life energy through the crystal. Then he smiled at Liara.

"Dagli will teach you well in everything!"

He pointed with his staff to a few huts below the slope. One already had its roof caved in.

"This is where the Clan Djarin lived. I think they were here for about three years. But they never really arrived here. Dagli then made them the proposal to travel to one of the Hidden Planets. She came from there and was homesick. Your grandfather and uncle had carried a lot of ballast and grief on their shoulders and in their hearts. I tried to help them a little. Your uncle in particular had been only a shadow after he had to leave without his daughter. Your grandfather then asked me, if you should come here one day, how he could tell you where they were without the wrong person getting hold of it. It took a little while, but I taught him how his spirit could leave his body."

Thule noticed from Din's posture and the way he tilted his helmet toward Liara that he could not interpret the statement correctly. The old man planned to talk about it in more detail with the two of them in the shrine.

The trail led them on, between tall grasses that swayed back and forth, purring in the wind. It almost sounded as if they were whispering things to each other. When the wall of grasses cleared, they had to climb a staircase carved into the rock that wound the last few feet up the slope and led to the shrine.

A weathered statue welcomed them, its head turned upward toward the sky. On the forecourt was a small basin set into a rock, it seemed almost like a bird bath. But on closer inspection, one could see the spring flowing down from the rock. Next to it there was the possibility to take a seat on a small bench. Thule went there, put his staff on it and dipped his hands into the basin. He asked Liara and Din to do the same.

"We all want to be at peace with ourselves when we deal with the Force!" he explained to the two. Then Thule took them to his quarters, which were in the lower part.

Whoever had once built this shrine had not cared how he lived underneath. The windows, rather small peepholes and the door crooked. For this, you could tell that those were concerned with presenting what was significant. The wide dome above, supported by four thick columns also formed of stone, was overgrown with lichen and moss. One could see the bronze-colored roof only in small places flashing out.

Underneath, however, was the actual shrine. Smaller columns connected with glass walls supported a dome with a spire on top, which in turn touched the main roof, making it one. Before following Thule into his abode, they took a look down into the valley. The clouds were no longer so dangerously black and dense, yet the sun did not come through. They could also see the spaceport, as a ship just left it and disappeared into the cloud cover. The settlements, the workers on their small boats in the swamps and somewhere a crash was heard. Startled by this, several fiery red feathered birds swooped out of one of the forests, screeching loudly across the sky.

"Oh, there's another gas bubble gone up!" muttered Thule, leading them into his apartment. It was simply furnished, a bed, a sitting area and kitchenette. Behind a closed door Din guessed the bathroom. The old man took off his mask, Liara did the same and put it on the dining table. A narrow spiral staircase wound upwards, where Thule now took them.

When they entered the shrine, they noticed the ancient floor, in which ornaments and small mosaics were set in blue and yellow. As large as the room was, this represented the galaxy, small larger circles planets and stars and lines connecting them. In the center was also a circle in which there was a fire bowl. The decorations were also found on the pillars, Liara carefully ran her fingers over them, in a few places the paint was already peeling off. Thule seemed to have activated a mechanism, because the windows suddenly darkened and in the next moment several flames blazed in the bowl. These reflected on Din's armor. Thule now turned to Liara first, however.

"How far along are you in your training?"

Liara puffed out her cheeks briefly and told him what Ahsoka had shown her so far.

"I'm also not sure that contact with Din when he was in a coma would have even happened without Morai!"

The old man nodded.

"I have heard of the Convor lady, she is very strong. But I think with your help we'll be able to coax the Mandalorian out of his hidden secrets yet! As they say, a strong will will penetrate even a rock!"

He winked at Liara, but then became a bit more serious.

"Your mother actually broke every Jedi law!"

Liara lowered her head, casting a sideways glance at Din, and Thule nodded.

"Yes also you should not be together!"

Din, who had been patterning a motif on the ground, jerked his head around frantically. His mind began to work and Thule sensed the Mandalorian's agitation.

"Calm down. There have always been exceptions and not everyone thought that way. But the lesson now was that love can turn to hate and hate is the greatest danger of falling into the clutches of the dark force. I don't see it that way and that's why I wasn't very popular with my views. Especially loneliness promotes thoughts that can also drag you down. Even though I have chosen this life, to live alone, I am not lonely. I have my friends here and I am not afraid of closing my eyes forever. Your mother has released many of her feelings, the crystal has absorbed this. If she had left the temple in time to find someone to take over her task, the crystal would still be in place. That's why you are the successor now, it responds to you!"

Liara gulped.

"And what happens when I am of age?"

Thule smiled.

"Either you train someone foreign before then, or pass it on to your children!"

The old man looked at Din, who had listened to this explanation with interest.

"Please take off your helmet and give me the dark saber! Your grandfather once had it in his hands and this is how we can make this connection!"

Din wasn't really sure how the two of them were going to manage it. He sighed and handed the handle of the weapon to Thule. As he took it in his hands and activated it, the old man smiled pensively. The gentle hum of the saber and the crackle of the fire had a calming effect. Then, however, he frowned. He took a few steps away from Din, they seemed graceful. He swung the weapon back and forth in his hand, turning gracefully with it, not showing his age. Then he kept the tip of the saber pointed at Din.

"You used the Force!"

It was a statement, not a question.

Liara stared at Din in surprise as he nodded slightly.

"It flew into the palm of my hand, but I was under the impression that the neti had helped me with it! That's why I didn't think it was worth mentioning!"

Thule beamed all over his face at the confirmation.

"Maybe, but I don't believe it. Sit in the middle, we'll take a seat next to you!"

Thule handed the saber back to Din.

"Beautiful weapon. Such power emanating from it, like my lightsaber once did. Unfortunately, I lost it while fleeing the Empire long ago..."

His look, first admiration, then you could see the sorrow for the loss of his sword. Thule shook his head, trying to get rid of this memory. He looked again at Din.

"What do you know all about the Force?"

"What Ahsoka has told me. The Force is in everything and those who can sense it take the energy from their environment!"

Thule smirked at the simple explanation.

"Yes it is everywhere, in the air, here in this stone floor, this flame. You seem to have released something in you during your struggle. Actually, it's in all of us, but for many it doesn't come out because that part of consciousness isn't used. Every living being has midi-chlorians in its blood. Without them, there would be no life in the galaxy. Most of them are firmly convinced, only with a large amount it is possible to feel the power. But I disagree. If you are a peaceful being, you too will have the opportunity to discover a new world for yourself through it. The neti helped you in the end because you could not have done it alone and they knew about your good intentions. I cannot train you to be a Mandalorian Jedi in a day, as your Mand'alor Tarre Viszla once was. But with the young lady's assistance, we should be able to pave the way for you to reach where your grandfather once was!"

Thule pointed to the dark saber.

"Please continue to hold it in your hand at all times, no matter what!"

Din nodded. He looked a little helplessly at Liara, but she smiled encouragingly at him.

"Please close your eyes and focus on my voice!" the old man instructed him. Din took a deep breath, then closed his eyes. A little further behind him, he could hear the hissing of the fire in the bowl. "Attention!" said Thule, then a bright sound rang out, brought on by the old man with a singing bowl. Even when he put it aside again, it could still be heard. Then the old man and Liara each touched him on the wrists.

"Do you feel how much endurance and power is in that single note? How it glides through everything, even your armor?"

Din concentrated on this, actually feeling that his chest plate in particular had absorbed the sound and was passing it on to his body. Light vibrations penetrated him.

"Take a deep breath in and out. Feel your breath circulating through your body. Breathe in and out consciously. Listen to the heartbeat of your breath. Relax your back and shoulders."

Thule could see Din's shoulders loosen and he nodded to Liara. He had caught her a little off guard earlier when he had entered her mind to tell her what to do. She nodded back and concentrated as well. She, like Din, continued to listen to the old man's words.

"All your emotional baggage is leaving you with every breath that leaves you. Shake your inner tension free, send it out of you, with every heartbeat, it becomes less!"

Din felt sleepy, Thule's voice was soothing and his body responded to every word. And although it sounded quieter and quieter, as if Din was moving away from him, he understood everything he said.

"As you breathe, make inner peace with yourself and all your worries. Now breathe deeply, until you bring your body and consciousness into a stillness and lightness. You stretch out your arms and stand on both feet. Feel the solid ground and see the light blue light enveloping your body, protecting you. Do you see it?"

Din nodded, just didn't know, did he really, or only in his mind. It was all so far away somehow.

"You leave this light and go your own way now!"

Din didn't understand what Thule meant by that, but then the blue light pulled away from him, disappeared, and darkness formed around him. And then he felt this tingling sensation. He looked at his hand clutching the dark saber, from there it emanated and traveled down his arm, spreading throughout his body. Again a bright sound rang out, taking hold of him. The vibrations became more, traveling from his toes to the tips of his hair throughout his entire body. Excitement and curiosity mixed with uncertainty about what was happening to him. He felt a tug on him, as if someone was reaching for him, trying to pull him out of his armor. He gasped for air, trembling slightly, but then he perceived Liara's voice reassuring him, telling him to let go and trust.

Din breathed deeply again, feeling warmth and security just from her voice. A source of light flickered below him in the darkness, and when he looked down, his breath caught. He saw Thule, Liara, and himself sitting in front of the fire bowl. His amazement lasted but a blink of an eye, then a red light rushed toward him, circling him and forcing him to close his eyes.

He heard Thule's voice, but it was so quiet, just a whisper, that he had to concentrate.

"Remember your childhood, when your parents were alive. Remember the protection, the care and security they gave you, the love and happiness of having a family. You still carry in your hearts the innocence of that child!"

Time keeps runnin′ away

No matter what's left behind

It keeps on movin′

Before Din opened his eyes, he felt the warm rays of the sun on his cheek, the gentle wind, it smelled a little like lemons. And this smell reminded him of home. Even though it was so long ago now, he thought of the lemon trees that were there in masses, of the little avenue that had always given him shade as a child. He blinked several times, the sun blinded him. When he could see more clearly, he noticed the palm trees and the white marble fountain that stood in the center of the marketplace. Din, was back on Aq Vetina. But not as an adult, but as a little boy. He was barefoot, feeling the rough sand under his feet. His toes played with the coarse grains of sand. He could remember that his mother had always asked him to wear shoes. But the other children also went without shoes, since it was not far to the beach. It was hardly worthwhile to put on shoes. But now there were no children here, or other inhabitants of the small town. It was like dead...

Only the splashing of the fountain was to be heard. Din bent down to pick up a small stone and threw it into the water basin. An additional splash sounded and Din grinned. Some days they had sat together in a large group of children and hours later, had fished all the little stones out of the water again. Din wondered why he was here. As he bent down to pick up another stone, he heard a rustling sound. He winced and turned to the source of the noise.

"Din!"

Standing by a palm tree was a man in Mandalorian armor, the sun reflecting off the silver and causing a green hue to shimmer out. The man detached himself from the palm tree and approached him. He had black curly hair, already a few gray strands in it. And Din recognized him from the memory that had shown him to the Gurlanin. His grandfather indeed had the same nose as him and in his brown eyes, was to be seen the joy when he saw his grandson standing in front of him.

"I'm afraid I don't know how much time has passed in the meantime, but Thule actually did it!"

He went down on one knee in front of Din and eyed the young one.

"I hope you've had a good life so far, and that those who raised you have been good surrogate parents to you!"

Din just nodded, speechless. His grandfather laughed liberatedly.

"That's how long my spirit has been waiting here, to finally be able to tell you where to find us!"

He leaned down to Din's ear and whispered something into it. Din nodded, he would not forget those coordinates. Then his grandfather took him in his arms, Din held onto him. Never wanted to let him go.

"We will meet again. Take care of yourself, my boy!"

Din felt the tear running down his cheek.

The voice faded, the body disappeared, and Din only grasped at nothing. A gust of wind tugged at his clothes. Something red flew with him and that's when he noticed his clothes disintegrating. He closed his eyes and felt the tug again.

Time keeps running away

No matter what′s left behind

It keeps on moving

Tomorrow is not in today

And all of your yesterdays

Are only a matter of

Time.

Din fell, he could feel the resistance on his clothes, but he saw nothing in the darkness. It was like the feeling when he had tried the jetpack for the first time and had not yet come to terms with the controls. He rowed his hands as if he could stop the fall that way. His heart was pounding up to his throat and he could feel the panic flaring up inside him. Was he not going to get out of this? Couldn't Thule and Liara help him anymore? But then it began to sparkle around him, he was surrounded by stars and the falling slowed down. Then, from far away, he heard Thule's voice again.

"Breathe in and out deeply again. Remember that I led you to the mountaintop. That is where you must return!"

Din thought of the shrine, trying to calm himself, and the tug on his body grew stronger again. A bright sound caught him and he knew that he was on the right path.

And the journey of a lifetime

Will begin with one step

When you're climbing up that mountain

It′s so easy to forget

It's one step at a

"Breathe deeply out and in. Feel the warmth in this space and with each breath you get closer to your body and come back!"

It was like a suction, he felt so heavy and his innermost but still light.

"Open your eyes!"

Din lay on his side, his cheek touching the cold floor and he felt like his heart would explode at any moment. His breath was shock-white and sweat was running from his forehead. The saber had slipped from his hand, lying between him and Thule. His fingers ached, so tightly had he gripped the weapon. His spine burned like fire, the pain traveling up and down his back. He shivered and blurredly saw Liara bending over him, touching him anxiously. His ears were buzzing; he couldn't hear what she was saying to him. Din felt the nausea rising in him. He managed to get to his knees, and scrambled on all fours away from Thule and Liara. Then he threw up.

[theeasternempress]

Learning About Love

Summary - Wrecker knows that clones are never shown any kind of physical affection, but nothing could prepare him for the way Omega simply melts into his embrace the first time he hugs her. 

Word count - 2.4k 

AO3

Wrecker had never felt relief like when he opened that escape pod on Bora Vio and found Omega, shivering with fear but alive and unhurt. Wrecker hated the quiver to the small girl’s voice as she cried out his name, but nothing gave him more joy than being able to pull her out of that pod. 

Without hesitation, Wrecker gathered Omega into his arms and hugged her tightly while running a large hand along her back to soothe her. Her small, cuffed hands dug into his armor, but that didn’t stop Omega from resting her head against his chest and nuzzling herself into his arms. 

Wrecker kept his arms around Omega until she pulled herself back only to launch into Hunter’s arms. It was only as he watched Omega cry against Hunter that Wrecker realized just how little physical affection the young girl must have had. The Kaminoans were disgusted by touch, but at least clone brothers had each other to give a pat on the back or a quick hand squeeze. Omega had been isolated away from her brothers her entire life, and thus had been isolated away from the warmth of physical touch. 

Wrecker watched as Echo brought out the scomp attachment for his cybernetic hand to remove Omega’s cuffs while gently running his thumb over her knuckles to soothe her, then Hunter ushered her up to the cockpit so she could sit with Tech and watch the stars. 

They’d all noticed how no matter how many times they were soaring through stars or the glowing blue of hyperspace, Omega would always be fascinated by both. If the stars could bring her a bit of comfort and happiness after the horrors she faced today, Wrecker would let her look at them for as long as she’d like. 

“She’s a smart kid,” Echo spoke, disrupting Wrecker’s thoughts, “I don’t think any other child in the galaxy would have been able to get away, but she did.” 

“I wish she hadn’t had to do any of that, but I’m proud of her for figuring out how to get away,” Hunter replied, rubbing at the spot where Omega had nestled into his sore abdomen. 

“She’s definitely our little sister now,” Wrecker said, voice uncharacteristically soft as he peered up at Omega and Tech in the cockpit as Tech carefully checked Omega’s wrists for any injuries while Omega stared out at the stars. 

Wrecker couldn’t help but continue to stare at Omega, afraid that she would disappear if his gaze wandered for even a second. Omega, ever the smart child she was, turned around at the sensation of being stared at to lock eyes with Wrecker. Wrecker smiled and winked at her, causing Omega to smile in return and squeeze both eyes shut in a failed copy of his wink. 

Omega said something quick to Tech, who nodded at her and helped her out of her seat. She rushed over to Wrecker and his brothers, practically bouncing as she skidded to a stop in front of Wrecker. Her dark brown eyes were still tainted red from crying, but it seemed her sadness was forgotten. 

Omega reached forward to wrap her small hand around Wrecker’s fingers, so he kneeled to the floor and softly asked, “What’s up, kiddo?” 

Omega, still clutching his fingers, replied, “I wanted to thank you, all of you, for coming back for me.” 

Wrecker smiled, scooping her up with ease and feeling his heart flutter at her carefree laughter. Hunter and Echo stepped closer as Omega rested her head against Wrecker’s shoulder. 

Echo spoke, “That’s what family does for each other, Omega. We’re always going to keep each other safe.” 

“Yeah, and we can just punch anyone that gets in our way!” Wrecker bellowed, punching the air enthusiastically. Omega giggled and gripped his armor tighter, her smile growing when Hunter reached forward to brush her bangs off her forehead. He twirled one of her blonde curls around his index finger the same way Omega always did with his hair, and Omega nestled her head closer to Hunter’s delicate touch. 

Omega sighed contently, mumbling something against Wrecker’s chest but before he could ask her to repeat herself, Echo grabbed her hand and asked, “How’d you like to go watch the stars, Omega? I bet there are constellations here that you’ve never seen before.”

Omega’s eyes light up like the stars swirling past their ship and nodded furiously. Echo gripped both her hands and Wrecker bent down to make it easier for Omega to jump out of his arms. Omega kept her grip on Echo’s cybernetic hand as she dragged him up to the cockpit. 

Wrecker watched quietly as Echo helped Omega into the co-pilot chair before kneeling next to her and pointing out stars. Tech pretended not to watch them, but Wrecker saw his brother flick his eyes over occasionally with a smile on his face. 

The horrors of today may have already been dismissed from Omega’s young mind, but Wrecker made it his goal to ensure that nothing bad ever touched his little sister again. 

-

Night fell quickly upon their small ship, and Hunter promptly escorted Omega up to bed. She’d been in the cockpit with Tech for most of the day since she’d begged Tech to teach her every possible way to reroute a circuit and re-wire a comm. She seemed just as determined as the rest of them to never allow them to be separated again. 

Tech had set aside all of his projects in favor of teaching their little sister, and it seemed his teaching had begun to pay off. By the time Hunter put her to bed, she knew all of the basic components of a comm and the fastest way to boost its signal.

Hunter had nominated himself for first watch, leaving Echo, Tech, and Wrecker to try to get some rest. Wrecker and Echo were the only ones actually trying to sleep, if the constant noise from Tech’s tools told Wrecker anything. 

With Lula clutched tightly in his arms, Wrecker rolled away from Tech’s tinkering to face the wall in an attempt to drown out the noise. He’d barely had his eyes shut for a minute when he heard the sound of Omega’s curtain being pulled back and her careful footsteps coming down her ladder. 

There had been several days scattered over the past few weeks where Omega had difficulty sleeping and sought out Hunter to comfort her. They’d simply stare at the stars together, Hunter’s presence somehow calming the young girl until she was tired enough that Hunter had to carry her back to bed. Wrecker, figuring that was what she was doing now, paid the small girl no mind as she quietly approached the bunks. 

Wrecker was surprised when he felt an impossibly-small hand drop onto his shoulder as Omega whispered, “Wrecker? Are you awake?”  

Wrecker rolled over and opened his eyes, responding with, “What’s the matter, kiddo? You wanna hold Lula?”

“Actually … I was wondering if you could hold me? Like you did earlier today?” Omega asked, her hand still resting on his shoulder. 

Her request caught him by surprise but after a moment of thinking, he knew he should have suspected it. She melted every time someone touched her for even a second, her body language showing that she was trying to absorb every second of touch she could get. Wrecker had hugged her for the first time today, and he was happy to know she had enjoyed the gesture. 

Wrecker sat up to grab Omega, and he didn’t miss the instant smile that flashed across her face as she stepped closer to him.  

“Here kiddo, you hold Lula for me,” Wrecker said, quickly passing off the stuffed toy to the child. Omega cradled the toy in one arm before bringing the other up over her head in a motion that Wrecker had seen other children do when they wanted to be picked up. 

Wrecker grabbed her by the waist and picked her up to settle against his chest. With his armor removed, Omega easily snuggled against him and rested her hand against his bicep. Being as careful as if he were cradling glass, Wrecker leaned back into his bunk so they were both lying down chest-to-chest. 

Omega shuffled slightly to better settle herself against him, but sighed at his warmth as she snuggled deeper into him. Lula seemed to be forgotten in her hold as she focused on Wrecker, and the girl made no protest when Wrecker plucked the stuffed toy from her grasp to place it on the floor. 

Omega moved the arm previously occupied by Lula to his chest directly over his heart. Omega giggled softly as she moved her head over his heart and whispered, “I can hear your heartbeat! It’s so loud, just like you!”

Wrecker managed to contain his laugh to just a soft chuckle as he brushed a large hand through her delicate curls and replied, “Yeah? I bet it’s not as loud as your stomach when it growled the other day.”  

Omega scrunched her nose up in anger at Wrecker’s teasing words, burying her face further into his chest so he didn’t see her face turning red. Wrecker laughed softly, patting Omega on the head.  

A few minutes passed as a comfortable silence fell over the pair. The normally boisterous clone was silent as he watched Omega pick bits of fuzz off the fabric of his blacks, her dark brown eyes lacking even an ounce of sleepiness. He knew he should be trying to get her to fall asleep, but he hadn’t the slightest idea on how to do that. 

Just as Wrecker was about to tell Omega to close her eyes and try to sleep, her soft voice asked, “Wrecker, how do you know if you love somebody?”

Wrecker froze. This wasn’t the kind of question he was ready to answer. Tech always diligently answered her questions, even if Omega didn’t fully understand by the end, and Hunter had always been good at explaining things in a way that kids understood. 

“That’s … that’s a hard thing to explain, kiddo. You’re probably better off asking Tech or Hunter,” Wrecker mumbled, figuring Omega would end the conversation there.

To his surprise, Omega picked her head up to look into his eyes and said, “But Wrecker, I want you to tell me!” 

Wrecker swallowed nervously, feeling completely unprepared to answer her simple-yet-deep question. Taking one look into her curious eyes, Wrecker knew he had to answer her, even if he didn’t give her the best reply.

“I think you know you love somebody when they make you happy,” Wrecker started, moving to cradle her hand pressed over his heart, “You also want to see that person be happy, and you’re willing to do anything to make sure that person stays happy and safe.”  

Omega was silent for a moment before quietly asking, “So ... is it okay if I think I love all of you?” 

Wrecker smiled as tears briefly blurred his vision, moving a hand to brush his knuckles delicately against her soft cheek. 

“Yes, Omega, that’s more than okay. We all love you too,” Wrecker replied, enjoying the content look on Omega’s face as her eyes closed as he continued to stroke her cheek. 

“That’s good, because I think I’ve loved you all for a long time,” she mumbled against his chest, but the meaning behind her words wasn’t lost to him.

Wrecker remembered how Omega already knew their names when they first met, and had a certain excitement about her that made him think she’d been waiting a long time to meet them. Had she loved them before she even met them, or did she learn how to love them in the few weeks they had been together?  

Omega’s eyes popped upon as she loudly whispered, “Wait, I have another question! If a group of people all love each other, does that make them a family?”

Wrecker’s hand stilled against her cheek in shock, but a quick nudge of her head into his hand made Wrecker laugh and continue his careful strokes. 

“I think it does, Omega. I love my brothers and I’ve always viewed them as my family. I love you, so now I view you as part of my family,” Wrecker replied. 

Omega hummed contently, clearly happy with Wrecker’s answer. 

“I’ve never had a family before, but I think we’re the best family in the entire galaxy,” Omega said softly, finally sounding tired enough to go to sleep. 

Wrecker moved the hand caressing her cheek to the back of her head, holding her steady as he leaned down to press his lips to the top of her head. She stirred slightly at the sensation, a faint smile flicking across her lips.  

Omega snuggled deeply into his arms, shutting her eyes and drifting to sleep as Wrecker rubbed soft circles into her scalp. Wrecker waited a few minutes for the small girl to pop her eyes open to ask him another question but when she didn’t, he shut his eyes as well and allowed himself to drift off to sleep. 

Wrecker’s last waking thought was of his brothers and baby sister. They weren’t a perfect family, but they were all that each other needed.  

-

When Hunter swapped places with Tech that night, both brothers couldn’t help the smiles that graced their faces at the sight in Wrecker’s bunk. Wrecker had a leg dangling off the side of his bunk, one hand cradling Omega’s lower back while another cupped the back of her head. Omega, looking as sweet as she could with her mouth hanging open, had one hand resting on Wrecker’s chest and another on his shoulder. 

The position didn’t look the slightest bit comfortable, but Hunter knew that didn’t matter to either of them. Hunter unraveled a small red blanket, tattered from years of love, and gently unfolded it on his brother and little sister.  

Omega stretched in her sleep before snuggling back against Wrecker. Tech stepped forward to lift Wrecker’s leg back onto his bunk and gently brush a hand through Omega’s blonde curls. Neither sibling made any movement, each completely lost in their dreams and each other’s warmth.  

[hearts-hunger]

ciryc ca’tra (cold night sky): chapter four || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

Series Summary: When you crash-land on a frozen planet on your way to Trask, you and Din work together to keep the Crest afloat and keep your little family safe under the cold night sky. || Part One of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: It’s the spiders one y’all :(

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Hurt/comfort, fluff, angst | Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: spiders :(

A/N: I tried to make the action fun to read and not too lengthy, and reader’s inner monologue gives it an angle that’s a little different from what you see in the episode. Let me know how I did! ♡

“Go, go! Back to the ship!”

Your husband appeared in front of you, beskar blocking the view of the horrific beast that gnashed its teeth and screeched loud enough to shake the icicles off the ceiling. It grounded you, seeing only him; you let him take you by the hand and pull you towards the cavern entrance. You held your baby tightly to you, his fearful cries enough to keep you focused on getting him away from that thing at any cost. 

Din pushed you in front of him, bringing up the rear as you fled the cavern now overrun with spiders. The huge, monstrous one loomed over them all, covering the distance between its cave and you in only a few steps. It snapped at Din, barely missing him as the four of you ran into the cave that led to the ship. The beast howled; the swarm of smaller spiders answered in kind and flooded the cave with their deathly shrieks.

Suddenly, the ceiling was falling - you looked back over your shoulder and saw the giant spider’s legs come crashing through the ice above, raining great shards of ice and rock onto the surge of spiders below. For the moment it seemed trapped; you didn’t have time to be thankful before you saw the seething wave of spiders that followed over the rubble, some no bigger than your hand and some as large as Din.

Your husband drew his blaster as the spiders started to surround you; the red flashes of each shot that took out one spider illuminated a dozen more to take its place. You felt a wave of hysteria so strong it nearly took your breath away, and you grabbed onto Din’s cloak like a lifeline and stumbled after him as he tried to clear a path through the maze of spider-ridden ice. 

You couldn’t tell if you were hallucinating or not, but the frog lady started to leap on all fours ahead of you; Din navigated the winding cave with as much care as he could, constantly looking back to make sure you were with him. The shadow of the giant spider overhead threw the cave into near darkness, and you felt Din’s hand on your arm, pulling you in front of him. When he let you go, you called his name in panic; you saw three bright red lights in his hand, then saw him throw them back behind you.

Bombs, your woozy senses registered. Din pushed you forward before he threw the last one, grunting with effort as he ran and tossed it as far back in the chamber as he could.

The explosion blinded you, and you were pulled forward as the spider’s shriek echoed with the sound of falling ice. You almost wished the flash had lasted longer as you saw the groping, teeming piles of spiders converging from every side; you nearly smacked into Din as he came to a halt, desperately looking around for an exit. He fired a few more shots, but there seemed to be an endless swarm of them; Din held his forearm in front of him, as if bracing for a blow, and you had enough presence of mind to step back and shield the baby with your body.

The sound of his flamethrower crested as the blue flame lit on his vambrace, and suddenly the whole cave was brilliant with a roaring fire. You staggered towards the cave entrance, Din right on your heels; you heard his blaster fire almost continually as you finally came out into the cavern where your ship lay. You had never been so glad to see such a wrecked piece of metal in all your life, and sprinted towards the Crest with your son held tight against you.

You ducked inside the hull, feeling a sense of relief you knew was coming too quickly, too strongly; you watched the frog lady take her eggs from Din and haul them up to the second level. You waited for your husband to come in through the split in the siding, but he didn’t come; he fired his blaster over and over until all you heard was its ringing bark and the teeming sounds of the spiders. You knew you should go up but found yourself rooted to the spot; you had to see your husband come in, and you would not move until you did.

A loud thunk against the hull, and Din gave a painful groan; another determined grunt of effort came through his modulator and was followed by another round of blaster fire. A second later, he stumbled through the split metal, followed by a steady stream of spiders.

“Go!” he told you, firing his blaster a few more times while he urged you towards the ladder. He boosted you up and followed you into the cockpit, shooting at the spiders as they swarmed up the ladder. He tried to close the cockpit doors; they strained against the limbs and bodies that struggled to get through, groaning metal against seething, sharp-toothed monsters. 

Din tried to force the doors shut with one hand and fired his blaster with the other, dagger-like legs and teeth cutting into his hands. A few spiders got through, skittering over the walls to where you stood clutching your baby to your chest; you felt a cry of terror and disgust claw at your throat as the terrible things dangled from the ceiling and crawled over the walls. 

In a sudden flash of clarity, you reached behind you to the compartment where you kept your pocket blaster; you fished it out one handed and gripped it tightly, like Din had taught you, aiming for the spiders that seemed ready to jump at you. The sound of it was tinny compared to Din’s blaster, but it did the job, splattering the spiders in bits of green slime all over the walls.

Din looked back at you, surprised at the sound of other gunfire; he only hesitated for a moment before he turned back to the doors and aimed his flamethrower through the gap, charbroiling the spiders as they tried to get through. After a few moments of the roaring fire, it seemed to finally work; the doors groaned shut and Din shut off the flamethrower, each breath panting and unsteady.

The peace only lasted for a heartbeat as hordes of spiders came rushing from the cave, scuttling over the Crest like an infestation of the broken hull. You backed away from the windshield as hundreds of spiders teemed and clicked over the glass, feeling nauseous; you felt Din behind you and reached blindly until you felt his arm, crumpling the fabric of his flight suit in your grip. 

“Strap yourselves in,” Din ordered, and you could hear the fear that colored his voice even through his modulator. He steered you to the passenger chair closest to you, a little rough in his haste, but you weren’t sure you could have done anything on your own as the spiders’ movements became so vast and so loud that it sounded like the fine debris of an asteroid field. 

You pulled the seat belt over you and the baby with shaking hands as Din turned the ship on.

“This better work,” he prayed to nobody, powering up the Crest in a way much more frantic and sloppy than you’d ever seen. His attention to the Crest was a little like that of a man to his lover, and you knew it hurt him to have to treat his beloved ship so carelessly. The ship creaked and groaned as it powered up, nursed back a feeble semblance of life by Din’s repair but by no means fully functioning.

“I’ve got limited visibility,” Din said, looking through the foggy, frost-covered glass to the chittering limbs above. “It’s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

He muscled the lever for the main thrusters, breaking through a thin sheen of ice to put it into position; the engines flared to life, bright orange flames dancing over the walls of the cavern, the familiar jerk of the ship pushing you back in your seat. With a valiant, heaving effort, the Crest gave its last bit of strength to lift itself out of the ice, rocking and shaking with exertion. You had a bright, furious surge of hope - maybe you would get off this frozen planet, maybe - 

Something huge fell on the top of the Crest, the force of it knocking the wind out of you and nearly slamming you into the dash. The Crest shuddered to the ground, landing harder than it had the first time it crashed into the ice; the shrieking roar of the giant spider was so loud you covered the baby’s ears as the sound echoed through the cavern.

“It’s ok, it’s ok,” you said hoarsely, your little one’s cries of fear tearing at you. Then, before you knew it consciously, your body sensed something - you curled around your baby and shielded him from the monstrous silvery claw that shattered the glass and struck the floor of the cockpit.

You could only watch in abject horror as the beast loomed over the cockpit of the Crest, its grotesque eyes peering through the broken glass at you.

“Din,” you managed, and you felt his hand on your knee. You had the wrenching thought that you’d never planned what to say to your husband at the very last, perhaps hoping that your end would come a little more peacefully than this, and hoped he knew how much you loved him.

The monster reared and opened its gaping maw towards the Crest, and you knew you were going to faint.

You must have blacked out for a second, dark spots dancing across your vision, and you came to woozy and shaking with terror. The monster’s jaw suctioned to the glass, its teeth raking over the only thing shielding your husband and your baby from certain death; you kissed your little one’s head and squeezed your eyes shut as you gripped Din’s hand as tightly as you could.

The sudden, unmistakable sound of laser-cannon fire filled the cavern, and your eyes flew open to see the red beams sparking where they hit the spider’s body. It howled in pain and landed heavily on the cockpit, sliding off the side as the cannons continued to fire. Din let go of your hand - you looked up at him, out of your mind with fear and confusion, and watched him unholster his blaster and open the cockpit doors.

“Wait, Din,” you called, your voice cracked and pitiful. The baby called after him too, but he didn’t turn back to you, and you had the awful feeling that watching him stride out of the broken cockpit would be the last you ever saw of him. Everything was washed in red light as the laser cannons fired continuously; then, suddenly, they stopped, and everything was deathly quiet.

“We ran the tabs on the Razor Crest,” a voice finally said, and it wasn’t your husband’s. You hastily unbuckled yourself and moved to look out through the glass; the baby watched too, giving a wondering coo at the scene below.

Eight-legged bodies littered the ground, oozing green fluid onto the murky grey snow. The same pair of X-Wings that had chased you onto this frozen rock were a few paces away, their pilots aiming their blasters towards the Crest’s smoking hull; Din stood in the beams of their headlights, blaster lowered cautiously in the way that told you he wouldn't hesitate to raise it again at a moment’s notice.

“You have an arrest warrant,” the pilot continued. You recognized him as the same one who’d asked for your beacon at the checkpoint. “A warrant for the abduction of prisoner X-6-9-11.”

That cursed Twi’lek, who’d been more trouble than he was worth from the first moment Din had set foot on that transport ship. You held your breath and waited for the pilot to continue.

“However, onboard security records show that you apprehended three priority culprits from the wanted register,” the pilot said. “Security records also show that you put your own life in harm’s way to try to protect that of Lieutenant Davan from the New Republic Correctional Corps. Is this true?”

Din holstered his blaster. “Am I under arrest?” he asked, exhaustion and resignation in his voice even as he refused to confirm or deny the truth about Lieutenant Davan.

“Technically, you should be,” the pilot answered. Then, after a moment, “but these are trying times.”

Din took a breath. “What say I forgo the bounties on these three criminals, and you two help me fuse my hull so I can get off this frozen rock?”

You knew it was a long shot, but it was better than not asking at all. Maybe you would finally have a stroke of luck in all this.

The pilots didn’t take kindly to his offer. “What say you fix that transponder, and we don’t vaporize that antique the next time we patrol the Rim?”

Without waiting for an answer, the pilots returned to their cockpits; a moment later, with the sound of their engines echoing through the cavern, they had left Din, the wreckage of his ship, and the passengers they hadn’t even known about to whatever thread of fate might occur on such a frozen, unforgiving planet.

Read chapter five!

pedro pascal character taglist: @punkgeekchic​, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl​, @stardust-galaxies​ ♡

series taglist: @kyjoraven​, @sarahjkl82-blog​, @remmysbounty​, @bitchin-beskar​​ ♡

let me know if you’d like to be added to either taglist! ♡

[amiedala]

SOMETHING MORE (mandalorian x reader)

CHAPTER 6: Gravity 

Rated: Explicit 

Warnings: sexual innuendos and allusions! there’s also mentioning of taking off clothing while our narrator’s snoozing (consensual, i promise!) 

Summary: “He’s dead.” 

You sit down in the holding bay, still confused. “But—”

“I slit his throat,” he says, his voice unreadable through the modulator. “I’m not collecting anything for him.” 

Suddenly, too quickly, it all comes rushing into focus. The bounty was Merle. You stifle a small sob, trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation. Regardless if you left the Crest in that ridiculous, half-baked runaway attempt, Mando would have brought Merle back to the ship. Either way, you would have been face to face with your past, painfully, quickly. But Mando could have gotten money for him, you realize, he could have dragged Merle alive back to the ship, to trade him into the Guild. But he didn’t. He killed him instead, to protect you. 

You gasp again, trying to find the words to thank him, for protecting you even when you didn’t deserve it. Even without having to ask him. “I—thank you,” you manage. “Thank you, so much.”

You aren’t shaken awake. And you don’t wake up in Mando’s arms.

When you do slowly slide your eyes open, itchy and dry with sleep still clinging onto the corners, and stretch your arms up over your head. Eyes still closed, you feel around for the blindfold that lived there the night before, then realize there’s a breeze on your legs, and your eyes fly open.

You aren’t wearing pants. You feel around, and you realize the shirt that you’re wearing is very much not yours. The underwear you have on are considerably fancier than your normal ones, and everything around you smells like Mando’s soap. Suddenly, you’re wide awake.

You shiver, standing shakily, rubbing the goosebumps that have risen on your arms. Did the Mandalorian strip you down after you slept and redress you, willingly, in lacy underwear and his clothes?

You’re absentmindedly pinching the fabric of his shirt, trying to remember why you bought the panties you have on in the first place, because they’re lacy and slightly itchy and very much not practical, running a hand through your hair—and then you remember the events of last night and why you’re wearing something clean. When you came, you soaked everything clean through, and you were sweaty and dirty from your run-in with Merle, and now Mando—

“Mando,” you say, your voice quiet, and then, rising in volume, “Mando!”

A helmeted head pops up the hole in the floor of the cockpit. “Good morning.”

“Good—are you washing my clothes?”

His helmet turns back to where your clothes are strewn all over the floor in various states of wetness. The baby is sitting in the middle of it all, making a mess out of the ones Mando has very carefully laid out on the ground. Your heart soars. For some reason, this alone makes you want to cry, the gesture of it all swelling inside you.

“Yes,” he says slowly, and then you’re grinning and scrambling down the ladder, and he sighs from behind you, and you register the reason for the noise when he hitches his big, gloved hands around your hips to help you down the last few steps and slides a single finger under the lace of the waistband. You shudder, the memory of the last time he touched you, all the events of the night before clenching and flooding through your stomach. It flips over for him as he turns you around, gentle but intentioned, and even with the baby watching, he pulls his other hand away from where it’s tangled in your waistband to push the hair out of your face. You sigh, happily, leaning into the glove.

“And you put these clothes on me?”

He looks at you, down at his shirt and the fancy underwear, and he inhales, sharply, and then says, “Yes. But I didn’t do anything—I just wanted to get you out of the dirty clothes.”

Your cheeks flush with the memory associated with the word dirty, and you grin up at him, putting a hand on his shoulder, then on the side of his helmet to pantomime touching his face. “Thank you.” You lean in, making sure the baby is preoccupied, and then, to reassure him in his decision to strip you down after you were asleep, you whisper, “you can get me out of my dirty clothes every night if you want to.”

“Maybe I will.”

You smile again, then gesture at the lace that’s riding high on your hips, very aware that his shirt only hits just past your ass, where the bottom half of both cheeks is totally exposed. “You certainly dressed me up.”

“They were the only ones clean,” he confesses, pointing at the small quantity of rest of your clothes you had hastily rescued from the X-Wing crash, only because they were already in your bag as you were climbing out of the broken cockpit. You really hadn’t done laundry recently, because you lived on the ship and they hadn’t gotten dirty. But after last night’s events, you had a feeling you would be running clean through the small stock of clothes you did own, and you blush again.

“You didn’t just want me in the lace?” you ask, and he exhales slowly through the modulator. You can tell, even disguised through the helmet, that your question hit in the right spot. You step closer, just slightly, and press your hip and the very top part of your leg in between is, and you can feel him harden underneath your touch.

“Let’s pretend I did.”

You smile, winking at him, stepping back against the coolness of the ladder, and you shudder again. “I’m cold.”

He looks from you to the drying clothes on the floor, to the baby, who coos in agreement. You tiptoe over and pick the kid up, reveling at how quickly he latches onto you, burying his little green fuzzy head into the crook of your neck. You smile over at his dad, loose hair falling in your face again, and Mando just looks at you, and even without the read on his facial expression, you can tell he’s smiling back at you. In whatever way his smile looks like.

This is it, you think, and it’s with that bigness and sureness that you felt the first time that you met him and the baby. This is what the rest of your life looks like. You sigh happily, twirling, trying to find something dry enough to put on.

“Wear this,” Mando says, and you unfold the ball of black he’s handing you the best you can with only one hand. It’s a pair of black pants, soft but worn, sizes bigger than you typically choose for yourself.

“These will fall right off me.”

He tilts his helmet at you, silently, and you burn with the knowledge of his insinuation.

You grin. “Maybe I’ll tie them tight.”

“You can,” he offers, and you press another kiss to the baby’s forehead, and he sighs sleepily in your arms, “but that’ll just make it harder for me to get into them later.”

Your heart does a flip. “Oh yeah?”

“It’s your choice.”

You pull them on, clumsily, and when you’re standing and clothed again, Mando grabs your face with one hand and pulls you into him. “Why won’t you get into them now?”

He plucks the baby out of your grasp, sighing. “Because I have to go see Karga and collect more bounty pucks.”

The gravity of realization that that’s what you’re doing here is sobering and quick. You feel heavy with remembering that there’s a life outside of the Razor Crest, and somewhere in the back of your mind, the shame and guilt you feel from ever trying to leave it pulses. Yesterday already feels like a lifetime ago.

“Oh.”

“I don’t want to,” he allows, but his voice already sounds distant. Your heart sinks, and you know you’re being selfish, you know that you can’t get in the way of his literal job, but Maker, you want to. You want to hole away with him on this ship, impenetrable from the dangers that awaited you both outside, for as many years as you both had left.

“I don’t want you to,” you whisper, something you would have been terrified you’d scare him away with even just a few days ago, but he sighs again and lets you rest your hand in his gloved palm, just for a second.

“I’ll be fast,” he says, and then he climbs the ladder without another word.

You stand there, confused at his abruptness, and then you slip on some socks that aren’t sopping wet and you follow him. When you get up to the cockpit, you realize that the Crest is about to touch down on Nevarro. You look, dazed, at the navigation panel, and realize you must have slept twelve hours or so last night to swallow up all the distance between here and Dantooine.

You hadn’t ever slept that well. Not even on Yavin when you were a kid. Not even in your own ship, before you lost it to the smuggler. You curl into a ball on the copilot’s chair, tucking your knees up to your chest. Nevarro’s volcanic surface hisses and bubbles as Mando parks close to the same town he met you in. He’s come back here since he picked you up, but you had always slept through the quick transaction.

“Can I come with you?” The question is blurted out of your mouth, way too fast for you to catch it, and then it’s out in the air, and you’re so anxious for his response.

“No,” he says, quietly, and that same swooping, sinking feeling in your chest serves as a bitter and stubborn reminder that you’ll never get used to him rejecting your ideas. That fear of rejection had put you in orbit of last night’s events, you remember, embarrassed, especially with the memory of why last night’s events had even transpired. Because you left the ship, and you got yourself into danger.

“I’m sorry,” you manage, and then his seat is turning around, and you jut your chin onto your knee so that your loose, messy hair hangs in your face, and you don’t have to look at him or his armor head on.

He sighs, more air than anything else, and then he’s tucking your hair behind your ear again, such a small but fierce gesture, and you hum into his hand.

“Nevarro isn’t safe,” he whispers, his voice falling flat under the modulator. “It’s never been, but even with the town rebuilt and revamped…”

You nod, closing your eyes. You understand. He’s protecting you, and no matter how much you want to cling to his side everywhere he goes, you know you’re both in more danger when he has you to worry about, too. Even if you were once a Rebel and a fighter pilot, you were better at the helm than you were on your two clumsy feet, and even Nevarro’s molten surface was dangerous.

“I’ll be here,” you say, and he’s slipping the commlink around your wrist.

“Don’t take this off,” he insists, kneeling down to level his visor with your eyes. You nod, tipping your forehead against it, just for a second, just so he knows you won’t run this time. He slides his hand over your cheek before he checks on the sleeping baby in his cradle, descends the ladder, and steps out of the Crest.

You sit there, happily, trying to close your eyes and relive the memory of last night. You can’t have been there for more than a handful of minutes before the commlink buzzes and your heart flips over, sliding from your lazy position in the chair that’s become yours into the pilot’s seat, just in case he’s ran into any trouble.

“I’m fine,” he reassures, and you sigh into it.

“What happened to ‘only for emergencies’?” you tease, and when nothing but silence radiates back over the line to you, you swallow. He’s trying to talk to you, and you just made fun of him for it. You smack your forehead, lightly, and then press the button again. “I like that when I’m hearing from you, it’s not an emergency. Love it, actually.”

He sighs, and you wait with bated breath to try and decode it. “I thought I’d narrate what I’m seeing for you.”

“Oh,” you say, and fold yourself up again, in his chair, wearing his clothes. Your heart is beating fast and hard, and you realize you’re giddy with excitement. “Do tell.”

“There’s lava,” he says, and then he’s quiet for a long time, and you think that’s maybe everything he’s relaying to you. But then, “lots of it.”

“How descriptive,” you say, resting your head on your knee, raising your other leg to rest comfortably against the dashboard. “You paint quite the word picture.”

Mando chuckles, once, and it sings inside you. That’s a sound you know you’ll never get tired of. “You’re lucky it’s me out here,” he pushes back, “and not the kid. All you’d be getting from him is babbling.”

“You make a good point.” You smile, front teeth grazing over your lip, still swollen from his kisses the night before. “Wait,” you say, suddenly, bringing your leg down from the dashboard. “You had another bounty to catch—on Dantooine, you had one more before you could return them to Karga—” You pause, heart hammering wildly in the realization that his rescue from your stupid adventure yesterday prevented him from getting the bounty he was on the planet for in the first place. “I’m so sorry,” you apologize, voice shaky with the weight of it.

“I got him.” Mando says it softly but intentionally. “Don’t worry.”

“But—”

He says your name, and your breath catches in your throat with the sound of it. “Trust me.”

“Okay,” you say, still wallowing in guilt. “How are you lugging the carbonite to your meeting?”

“Drag them.”

You furrow your eyebrows, get up from the chair, descend the ladder. The three blocks of carbonite that had amassed after you pushed the Twi’lek into the gas have vanished. You look back and forth between the commlink and the tiny holding bay. “You dragged them? All the way to town?”

“They’re not heavy.”

You balk. If three people in carbonite weren’t heavy, he could probably throw you up in the air like the baby’s little silver ball, catch you with one hand. The thought ripples through you, and you shake your head clear of the thought. “Wait, but you—now you have four of them?”

Mando’s silent for a moment, and you think that maybe he’s gotten into town and is on higher alert, but then he breathes over the commlink. Something about his silence makes you a little uneasy—you know he’s hiding something from you, and you want to know what it is.

“I only have three,” he says, finally.

“But then you’re not done,” you repeat, stupidly, completely in the dark. “Why did we leave Dantooine if you didn’t have the other bounty?” You can feel that slick, heavy guilt flooding through you again, wanting to apologize for the circumstances you put him through for years and years.

“I didn’t need him.”

“Mando,” you whisper, still not understanding, “what do you mean?”

He’s quiet, again, and you have the feeling that you should know what he’s trying to say, but you still feel waterlogged and completely lost. You try to ask him again before he interrupts you, and you shut up the second his words filter through over yours.

“He’s dead.”

You sit down in the holding bay, still confused. “But—”

“I slit his throat,” he says, his voice unreadable through the modulator. “I’m not collecting anything for him.” Suddenly, too quickly, it all comes rushing into focus. The bounty was Merle. You stifle a small sob, trying to comprehend the gravity of the situation. Regardless if you left the Crest in that ridiculous, half-baked runaway attempt, Mando would have brought Merle back to the ship. Either way, you would have been face to face with your past, painfully, quickly.

But Mando could have gotten money for him, you realize, he could have dragged Merle alive back to the ship, to trade him into the Guild. But he didn’t. He killed him instead, to protect you. You gasp again, trying to find the words to thank him, for protecting you even when you didn’t deserve it. Even without having to ask him.

“I—thank you,” you manage. “Thank you, so much.”

“You don’t have to,” he whispers back, “thank me. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but in any circumstance, if I saw him there, holding a knife to you, having men hold you down…” he sighs, darkly, deeply, and you curl up even tighter against the cold wall of the Crest. “He’d be dead either way,” Mando finally says, and you don’t know if you fully believe him, but you nod against the commlink.

“I have to go,” he says, and the warning is abrupt, but you’re happy he managed to give one at all.

“Be safe,” you whisper, trying to load your voice with as much gravity and gratitude as you can in the economy of those two words, and he waits a second before he clicks off. Just one minute of bated silence, but it’s a salutation, an understanding. You curl yourself up into a ball, smell his shirt against your skin, and let him go.

  You love the Razor Crest. It’s a hunk of junk, and it rebels against you like a teenager whenever you try to pilot it any faster and quicker than the way Mando handles it, but in the last six weeks, it’s become more of a home to you than anywhere else has ever been. You love to sit in the dark hull as you move through space, steadily and surely, with no intentions of going anywhere ever again after so much life of solitude. But right now, it feels like a prison.

You can’t exactly pinpoint when being on the ship felt like being closed off from anything, but you know ever since you were pulled right into the Mandalorian’s orbit, ever since he touched you for the first time, any time spent without him in the hull feels like you’re trapped. Even the baby struggles to give you solace today, especially knowing that Mando’s going back to Karga with one less bounty than there is pucks, and your heart wrenches itself into the not.

The baby coos, and you startle, dropping the small insignia on your silver necklace back against Mando’s giant shirt. You pull him into your lap, pressing your forehead to him.

“What’s up, baby?” you ask, and he pulls on your necklace. It glints in the low light like his little silver ball does, and you can feel him tug at it, gently, with his little stubby fingers, and something pulls in your chest. “No, bug, you can’t have this, I’m sorry.”

His little eyes well up, and that alone is almost enough to undo the clasp and slip it over his head, but you gently use your finger to hook the line of the necklace that you know Mando gave him not too long ago. You don’t know if he can understand what you’re doing as you strain the chain over your thumb so that both silver pendants clink together, softly, so you grab his little hand with your free one.

“Your daddy gave this to you, right?”

His big eyes fill up with happiness as he coos in agreement.

“Well, my necklace is from my parents, too. I wear it every day to keep them close to me, like you wear yours to keep him close to you.” You tip your forehead into his again, gently, and then pinch the Rebel insignia between your fingers. As you lay back, he looks up at you again, with those big, bright, sad eyes, and somehow, you know what he means. You shake your head, just a little, just to answer his unspoken question. “No, bug, they’re not coming back.”

You can’t take it when his eyes well up with the truth of it, so you scrunch up your face at him. “Don’t worry,” you whisper, pulling him into your arms, “I have them right here.” You tap a circle around your pendant, around your heart like a hex. “And I have myself another family now.”

He looks at you in confusion, and you tap his pendant, then touch your finger to his tiny nose.

“You,” you say, so quietly that only his giant ears could pick it up, “both of you.”

“Hey,” comes a modulated voice, and you startle, looking wildly around to where it’s coming from until you see the red blinking of the commlink on your wrist. “I’m coming back.”

“Good,” you breathe, cuddling the baby against your chest.

“I’ve got company,” he says, darkly, and you push yourself upward in one fluid motion, setting the baby back into his cradle even as he cries out for you, picking up your dried clothes and shoving them into your pack. You flail a hand at your leg, panicked, before you realize your belt and holster aren’t on you because you’re still wearing Mando’s pants, and you yank them down and trip into your own ones instead, which are a lot less comfortable, but they still smell like him, and you slide your blaster into the holster. Your own speed impresses you.

“Should I hide?” you whisper, leftover fear from yesterday and the other close encounters you’ve had on the ship running miles through your body. “Should I hide the kid?”

He takes forever to answer, so you pull the baby’s egg closed and push him into the alcove where his dad’s bed is, and you bend down behind the armory, blaster in hand. “Hey,” you say, urgently, “Mando, what do I need to expect—”

The hiss of the disengaged gangplank cuts you off, and you click the safety off the blaster, tucking all your loose hair behind your ears, ready to shoot if you need to. You leap out from the small hiding place you were crouched under, and the man next to the Mandalorian recoils and swears at the sight of you, steps back, and then looks incredulously between you and Mando.

“You know her?” He asks, clearly affronted, but it’s barreled over by your, “You know him?”

Mando’s visor moves back and forth between the two of you, and then gives a short, curt nod. The man next to you—hefty, well-dressed, with a booming voice—sighs, slaps an arm on Mando’s stoic shoulder, and extends a gloved hand to you.

“You’ve been keeping quite the company, Mando,” he says, and the volume of his voice compared to Mando’s brooding silence is almost deafening. “Pleased to meet you, darling. I’m Greef Karga—”

“She has a name,” Mando interrupts, and your eyes widen a fraction at his blatant insistence, as if he hasn’t called you “hey” and “sweet thing” in every interaction you’ve ever had with him, save for the two times he actually wrapped his mouth around your name at all.

You introduce yourself. “I’ve heard so much about you.” You aren’t sure what Mando’s reservedness is about, especially since he lets Karga pick up the baby, who has maneuvered himself out of the alcove and is now standing with grabby hands at one of Karga’s boots, ready to be held. You furrow your eyebrows at him, and he sighs, and the sound is all noise. All annoyance.

“I haven’t heard anything about you,” Karga replies, knocking his elbow into Mando’s beskar. He is literally just standing there, as frozen as his bounties were in the carbonite. You look at him again, trying to figure out why he’s so grumpy, but Karga reaches out and points at you. “Until today, when Mando returned three bounties to me and told me that he killed the other one!”

Your gratitude and embarrassment about the whole thing ripples through you at the same time, and you have to force yourself not to wince. “That was my fault.”

“I gave him Merle Calican’s bounty puck,” Karga continuous, and you clench your teeth at the mention of his name, “as a long shot. I didn’t think anyone would be able to bring him in. Turns out,” he laughs, “I was right! I heard it through the grapevine that Mando slit his throat in the middle of Dantooine.”

“He’s worth more dead than he is alive,” comes Mando’s voice through the modulator, but you can tell how dark and furious it is, and you wrap your arms around yourself in his big shirt, pretending just for a second that it’s his arms instead.

“No question,” Karga agrees, and at this, you startle. You’d known Merle to be a hotshot on Corellia, and you knew that he had a dark and dirty reputation to double cross anyone that wasn’t in his inner circle. And you knew that once he held a grudge, it was forever—or at least, until the person the grudge was against was dead. You knew he was persistent, wily, lethal. But you’d never heard his name again after your narrow escape from him and his men back on Coruscant, after you’d accidentally killed Jacterr, after you ran for your life. Hearing him mentioned from someone else who didn’t know him up close was alarming. “I gotta tell you, Mando, I am happier he’s dead than I would be if you brought him in alive. That was one twisted son of a gundark. That whole family is cursed.”

You look nervously at Mando, again, who still hasn’t moved a muscle. The whole family? As far as you knew, Jacterr was Merle’s only brother. You bite your nails. Slowly, Mando nods. You don’t know what to say next, and you’re not sure if you want to ask Karga how he knew Merle, so you just stand there, watching the baby reach from Karga to his dad, and Mando hoists him into his own arms.

“Well, I’ll better be going,” Karga says, finally, and even though he’s much more pleasant than you would have imagined, you’re happy he’s leaving. You move closer to Mando as he steps away, finger finding your necklace again. “It was nice meeting you. Hopefully next time, you’ll come explore the town.”

“Probably won’t be anytime soon,” Mando finally says, raising a halfhearted hand at Karga, “you gave me some tough catches.”

“You’ll get them,” Karga says, easily. “And when you do, you’re both welcome on Nevarro.”

You smile at him, giving him a little wave. Mando nods at him.

“I’ll tell Cara you both said hello,” he says, and then the gangplank is engaged, and Nevarro’s molten surface disappears. Cara? Both?

The second the airlock tightens again, Mando grabs your chin gently. You sag into him, happy to see him upright, unharmed.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and an apology from him still doesn’t sound real. You furrow your eyebrows at him, trying to understand what in the world he’s sorry for.

“You came back,” you say, confused, “within a few hours and without getting hurt. Why are you sorry?”

“That was unexpected,” Mando sighs, and lets the baby down from his arms so he can toddle across the floor to a bag of food that Karga brought. Mando tucks your loose hair behind your ear, the gesture already so familiar, so warm, and you sag against him. “He wouldn’t stop talking.”

You smile up at him. “He talks less than me.”

He sighs, but it’s just air. “I like your voice better.”

You blush, trying, impossibly, to catch a glimpse of his eyes behind the visor. “I thought you were friends with him.”

“He did try to kill me once,” Mando says, and at the baby’s angry reprimand, he shakes his head, “although, I tried to kill him too, so maybe we’re even.” He pauses. “And he’s too friendly. With you.”

You squint at him, ignoring the second admission, even as it does backflips in your chest. “What in the universe happened to you before I boarded your ship?”

He brings one gloved hand to your face again, and you sigh happily. “Nothing spectacular.”

You don’t want to say it. And you’re trying not to be jealous. But her name has been written across your head since Karga said it, said that he’d tell her you both said hello, especially since he didn’t know of your existence before today. “Cara?”

At the mention of her name, the baby coos in delight, and Mando looks from him and back to you.

You don’t know what to expect, but when he says it, it still throws you off guard. “I guess she’d be the one I call a friend.”

“Oh,” you say, in a tone you think is neutral, and then he’s cupping your face in his hands again, and it feels like everything else in the atmosphere has been filtered out.

“She’s the reason you met me,” he says, softly.

“Mmm,” you say, not needing him to elaborate, “then maybe I should have told Karga to thank her instead.”

He just looks down at you, unreadable through the visor. “She made me wait to leave the planet after the battle here. I wasn’t going to, but then I saw your ship crash.” He pauses. “You’ll like her.”

You beam at him. “For that alone, I do already.”

“She’s an ex-shocktrooper.”

You gape at him, both because he’s willingly offering you information and because that is an impressive title, and when you regain your words, all you can manage is, “Wow.”

He nods, moving his hands to your waist, and you sigh happily. “Come with me.”

You follow him, silently, up the ladder, looking at the baby for a second, trying to decide if you want him to come, too, but Mando hoists you up the last two steps, and you decide you love the baby, but you’d very much like him to stay hidden away for whatever happens next.

Mando leads you over to the pilot’s seat, slowly but forcefully, and you hum when he pushes down lightly on your shoulders to make your knees buckle and get you in the chair. You love the view from here, the way the stars streak past you, the way it looks like the entire galaxy is at your fingertips.

“Don’t turn around,” Mando says, and you oblige, happily looking out at the universe around you. “Hold your hand up.”

You do, in front of you at first, and then over your shoulder when you realize he’s not moving, and he places three bounty trackers in your hand.

Your eyebrows furrow, and then you remember he can’t see you, so you ask, “What am I—supposed to do with these?”

Slowly, agonizingly, Mando’s hand moves from your shoulders to the chair, and he spins you around. You look up at him, realizing again that you’re at the perfect angle to take every inch of him down your throat, and you gulp, trying to keep your eyes on him with some semblance of focus.

“You’re going to pick which one we go after next.”

You gape at him. “But there’s—there’s an order to it, you work your way out and back again, right? Or you go for the easiest catches first?”

He nods. “Not this time.”

You bite your lip in confusion, gaze flickering back and forth between him and the flashing pucks in your hand. “This one,” you say, suddenly, grabbing the one in the middle.

He looks down at you, and then grabs your throat, just with his fingertips, a ghost of a thing, and your whole body shudders, every nerve in you pulsing and alive. “Good girl,” he says, and you gasp again.

“Which one did I pick?”

Mando lowers himself down to where he’s level with you, and your heart is about to burst out of your chest with it. You want him, you want everything about him, the blood rushing in your ears is blocking every single other thought out—and then you realize he’s speaking.

“The furthest one,” he sighs through the modulator.

“And that’s good?”

“Oh, yes,” he says, tracing his gloved hand down your body from your collarbone to your bellybutton. “It means I get to make good on that promise I made to you last night.”

You’re heaving, already, it feels like all the air in the Crest has been sucked clean out. “What promise?” you squeak out, finding it nearly impossible to focus on anything else than where his fingers moving.

“I’m going to get to take my time with you,” Mando whispers, and when his hand sinks down in between your thighs again, everything else in the entire galaxy stops.

CHAPTER 7 WILL BE UP SAME TIME SAME PLACE, 7:30PM TOMORROW, SATURDAY THE 30TH EST!!

thank you all SO MUCH for all the love!! i promise there's SO much more coming <3 it's been such a joy sharing this with y'all. can't wait to hear what you think!!! i'll be hanging around my tumblr inbox all weekend if you wanna chat about Something More at all!

xoxo, amelie

TAGLIST: @myheartisaconstellation | @fuuckyeahdad | @pedrodaddypascal | @misslexilouwho | @theoddcafe | @roxypeanut | @lousyventriloquist | @ilikethoseodds | @strawberryflavourss | @fanomando | @cosmicsierra | @misssilencewritewell | @rainbowfantasyxo | @thatonedindjarinfan | @theflightytemptressadventure | @tiny-angry-redhead | @cjtopete86 | @chikachika-nahnah | @corvueros | @venusandromedadjarin | @jandra5075 | @berkeleybo | @solonapoleonsolo | @wild-mads | @charmedthoughts | @dindjarinswh0re | @altarsw | weirdowithnobeardo | @cosmicsierra | @riseofthefandomfollowers

[clanoffetts]

Like Real People Do, Part 3

series summary: Kyra Esson, a pilot trying to forget her past, takes Jango Fett up on an offer. It's supposed to be her last hurrah before she settles down, but she can't seem to leave the bounty hunter, no matter how hard they both try.

word count: 2k

warnings: 18+, NSFW. Fluff; Eventual Smut maybe; Slow Burn; uh oh jango catches feelings; Yearning; Dirty Thoughts; ; severe misunderstanding of Slave I’s layout; (M) masturbation

The ship’s hum lulled Kyra to sleep that night and gently brought her out of it the next morning. When she sat up in the cot, her neck was stiff and her back desperately needed to be popped. How the actual fuck did this man sleep here every night? Maybe that’s why he was eager to sleep in the pilot’s seat.

“You awake?” He calls up the ladder. 

“Barely,” Kyra calls back, standing and stretching her limbs. 

Jango hadn’t been awake long, it seemed, as his voice was gruff and his curly hair was a mess atop his head. “You want one?” He asks as Kyra makes her way down into the main hole. He’s holding up some kind of bread in his hand, and it’s half eaten.

“What is it?” 

“Bread.”

Kyra nods. “Sure.” 

Jango grabs a pack of something from a crate and a bowl that he fills with water. He rips the packet open with his teeth, and Kyra sucks in a breath, the action hitting her straight in her stomach. She exhales shakily, watching Jango dump the contents of the packet into the bowl. 

“Like magic,” he says, watching the powder soak the water until it forms a roll of bread, just like his own. “There you go.” 

Kyra bites into it, instantly regretting the size of her bite. “It tastes like nothing.”

“Rather it tastes like nothing than taste like bantha shit,” Jango shrugs. 

-

The rest of the day is boring. Jango isn’t much of a talker, Kyra realizes, and their banter is an exception not a rule for the Mandalorian. Jango had sat silently across the room in his armor, sans helmet, tinkering with something on his workbench. 

Jango grunts every time he tightens a bolt, putting all his force into it, making the bolt almost impossible to loosen. And his grunts pry into Kyra’s mind, through the novel she’s trying to read on her ‘pad. 

Jango watches her in his peripheral, shifting in her seat while her eyes keep steady on the words in front of her. Her hair isn’t up today, he notices, instead it’s in long black waves down her back, almost reaching the swell of her- 

Stop , he brings his attention back to the weapon he’s working on. The damned thing doesn’t even need to be fixed, but he’s never met someone that makes it hard to talk. Usually, it’s a choice for Jango to withdraw, but this woman has him unable . It’s not that she matches him in his banter, at least not in a way he can understand, but it’s her nonchalance. He’s a kriffing Mandalorian, and she didn’t care. It’s the Pamarthe in her, he thinks. That’s what it is. It has to be. 

-

Dinner goes the same. Jango’s teeth rip open two packets at once, and Kyra gulps. Her roll comes out wonky, slightly soggy. 

“Here,” Jango says, holding out his. “Have mine, that one looks awful.”

“I’m sure it’s fine-“

“Kyra,” Jango says her name for the first time. “Take mine, it’s the least I can do.”

“You’re letting me stay on your ship and use your bed, the least I can do is eat soggy bread,” she replies, but he still sits across from her, hand out. “Fine.” Their hands brush slightly with the exchange, and both finish their dinner fairly quickly. 

-

The evening is boring, as hyperspace often is, but Jango doesn’t help. He answers questions with short answers, and he doesn’t ask any in return. Finally, Kyra excuses herself.

“Goodnight, Jango,” she says, her voice coasting over his name like no one else’s. 

All he can muster is a curt nod. 

When Jango steps into the ‘fresher a few hours later, he stares at himself in the small mirror. He examines his skin, where the scars cut deep and where a little bit of bacta could’ve prevented scarring, if he hadn’t been stubborn. 

Jango grabs his shirt by the collar, pulling it over his head. His chest is littered with small scratches, too, and his arms, where there aren’t tattoos. The middle of his chest has a bacta bandage on it, right between his pectorals. He’d applied it that morning, hoping it would ease the ache left behind there. He was wrong. 

Jango pulls it off quickly, depositing it in a wastebasket. The scar is still pronounced, he knew it would be, he’s never taken care of wounds very well. 

The water of the shower is hot, numbing the pain on Jango’s sternum. The water runs down his body, over the curve of his muscles and through the curls of his hair. 

Jango’s mind wanders to the woman sleeping in his bunk. She seems to only have the one scar across her left brow, and her porcelain skin was covered in scratches from the sand, but no scars of Jango’s caliber. 

He thinks back to her long hair, it looked so soft , reaching the soft curve of her ass while she read. Stop , he scolds himself. But it’s too late, his cock is hardening under the stream of water. 

He pushes any thought of Kyra out of his head, You fucking creep, he thinks, and instead pulls disembodied images of women and men from various holoporn videos he’s seen over his years. Jango’s rough hand grasps his cock, tugging fast and hard, trying to get this over with. 

Jango hopes his stray groans and swears are covered by the stream of water from the showerhead. “Kriffing hells,” he groans as he comes, the final image that flashes in his head is Kyra, sitting reading in the hold of his ship with that hair of hers down.

“Fucking creep,” Jango tells himself as he washes his release from his hand. 

When he steps out of the shower, wrapping his towel around his waist he steps back in front of the mirror. Jango wipes the fog from the mirror, and stares at himself again. He then reaches to a cabinet, pulling another bacta patch and unwrapping it. He lays it across his sternum, pushing gently to get it to stick. Kriffing things aren’t working, he thinks. They said they’ll work and I’ll be able to hunt-

There’s a thud from the front of the ship, and Jango rushes from the ‘fresher. “Are you ok?” He calls up to the bunk.

“Yeah, yeah sorry,” Kyra replies. “Dropped my datapad, sorry.”

She’s in her pajamas, her hair is in a loose braid from the nape of her neck. She’s reaching to the floor from the bunk, grabbing the ‘pad from the floor. “Oh,” Jango says. “Ok.”

Kyra watches him watching her, her eyes wander to the dark hair at his navel, the towel dangerously low. And then she notices the bacta patch. “Are you ok?”

“Hmm?”

“The bacta patch, are you ok?”

He lays a hand over his chest. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” Kyra stares at his large hand, covering his toned chest, and tries her hardest to mask it as concern for the bacta patch. 

“Good,” she says. “I’m glad.” 

It’s awkward for a moment, the two just looking at each other. “Well,” Jango says, turning back. “Good night, then.”

“Good night, Jango.” 

Why’d she have to say my kriffing name again, he thinks as he makes his way back to the ‘fresher. Many people don’t say his first name, and if they do, it’s because they’re pleading. Otherwise, he’s just “Fett”. But not to her . 

Jango steps into sweatpants and then pulls a matching black t-shirt over his head. He climbs into the cockpit, hissing at the pain in his chest. The chair isn’t comfortable, not to sleep in, and he almost wishes he had taken Kyra up on her offer to sleep in the pilot’s seat instead. Almost. 

-

The next day is much of the same, ration packets distributed and made, small talk avoided by Jango. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? If you’re injured you should be sleeping in your own bed,” Kyra says, taking their bowls from breakfast to wash in the kitchenette. 

Jango nods. “I’m fine, Kyra, I promise.” Jango is taken by surprise by saying her name, and he can’t see it, but she is too. Her name feels foreign on his tongue, but he likes it. Almost like the first time he tasted a foreign whiskey, but this was better.  

“Well then, Jango,” Kyra says, her voice breathier than normal, hoping Jango can’t pick up on it. And in his own frenzy, he doesn’t. “If you change your mind just tell me. No hard feelings.” 

Jango says nothing, instead he just watches her. “Why do you do lekku braids everyday?”

“Lekku braids?” “Isn’t that what those are called?” He gestures to the two braids on her head, starting at her forehead and weaving all the way down to the nape of her neck and then some. “Or do you call them something different on Pamarthe?”

“I think I’ve heard them called that before,” she replies, shocked that Jango has entered a talkative mood again. “I’ve never really called them anything. They make my long hair easier to manage, that’s why I like them.”

“Why don’t you just cut it, then?” Jango knew many women who cut their hair short, making life under a helmet easier. It was part of many Mandalorians’ show of discipline. 

Kyra shrugs. “Because I don’t want to.” 

“Sometimes we have to do many things we don’t want to.”

Kyra looks at him. Was he trying to be profound? “Yes,” she agrees. “But I don’t have to. Are you trying to say I’d look better with short hair?”

Jango shakes his head. Kriffing hells, you’ve fumbled it. “No, no, not at all,” he says. “I- I quite like your hair, really. I was just curious, that's all.”

“Mm,” Kyra hums, drying the breakfast bowls trying to make sense of the man sitting behind her. 

Jango watches her, her braids swishing with every movement. He tries his hardest to keep his gaze from her thighs in her leggings, and when he can’t he stands, clearing his throat. “I’ll be in the cockpit.”

“Are you sure? We could always hang out a little, you know, and watch a holo. It won’t kill you.” 

With you, it might, he thinks. So he pushes himself away. A talent of his, really. “Quite sure.” 

He’s back with the short sentences, the curt nods, and the quick turns. Kyra watches him climb up to the cockpit, her brows furrowed. Odd man, she thinks as she makes her way back to a chair, setting up her ‘pad to watch a show.

-

The whole day is just that, Kyra in the hold watching a holodrama and Jango in the cockpit listening to the holodrama. He wants to go down there, he wants to see the story between the Twi’leki man and the Pantoran woman unfold, their fighting families keeping them apart for the sake of their businesses- Jango feels quite stupid for being so invested, but he is. He’s put his helmet on to listen better, so he can hear every dramatic gasp leave every character’s mouth. 

-

“We’ll land tomorrow at…” he checks a screen, “2100 hours, Pamarthe time.” 

“We won’t be landing at 2100 hours,” Kyra says. “I’m not flying into Pamarthe in the dark. Not on a foreign ship.”

“Why?”

“You should do more research,” she tells him. “Pamarthens are very particular on who can land. There are stories of ancient warriors that will come back to attack. And, well, Pamarthe is always ready for their return. It’ll be easier in the daylight.” 

“That’s stupid,” Jango says. 

Kyra’s face contorts with offense. “Amaxine warriors were very real on Pamarthe. It’s no more stupid than Mandalore exiling Mandalorian-”

“Do not speak about Mandalore,” Jango snaps, his finger pointing at her as she sits in the co-pilot’s seat. “Do not speak about something you do not know.” He stands, retreating down from the cockpit and into the hold.

“Then don’t be a hypocrite and do the same, Fett.”