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stardustdreams-andcaffeine · 1 year

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The Past That Haunts | Din Djarin

Din Djarin x fem!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: It's been months since you stowed away on the Mandalorian's ship, running from the ghosts of a past you'd rather forget. You shouldn't have fallen in love, you knew better than to get close, and now you have to pay the penance for your sins. Your past has come back to haunt, and you're his next bounty.

A/N: Really really proud of this one. Should have been studying, but was doing this lol so you all better enjoy. As always, requests are open and I'll get to them when I can because college is insane. Love you all dearly, hope you have a great day wherever you are 🤍

Warnings: violence, sexual themes and suggestive content, mentions of blood, fem!reader, angst, fluff, happy ending I promise (i only like hurting you a little bit, not enough to take away the happy ending)

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No one can run from their past forever.

Lies, secrets, sins—they all have a nasty habit of breaking through the thin soil they've been buried beneath and rearing their heads. What was left behind never stays gone, but rather skitters behind in waiting for the right moment to revive. The past haunts, it stays connected to the essence of a soul and refuses death itself until its dues have been paid.

No one can run from their past forever, not even after you'd almost forgotten it was lurking right there.

And yet, the reason you'd nearly forgotten was laying unconscious in the midst of a hunt he'd dragged you along on.

"Mando, if you're done dreaming of me I could use some backup!" You shout, barely avoiding the clawed fist of the Trandoshan mercenary before you. The bounty was stronger and deadlier than you, but you were faster.

As you danced and weaved around his blows, your eyes slipped to your Mandalorian still unconscious from where the Trandoshan had snuck up on the two of you. This job was supposed to be simple, but even lower grade mercenaries like the one fighting you were still deadly.

With a breath of frustration slipping your lips, your mind quickly raced to try and work out how to get out of this situation. Mando clearly would be no help and while he often punched his way out of problems, you didn't have that luxury. That's why within seconds you whirled around to the mercenary with a nervous smile on your lips.

"My friend, I believe we got off on the wrong foot." Your smile was charismatic as you extended your arms out in welcome to the target. The mercenary snarled at the comment, and you both glanced down to the foot he'd just regrown after Din had managed to chop it off.

You look back up at the reptilian male, a sheepish smile on your lips, "Bad choice of words"

He hissed at you and lunged again, slashing a knife you hadn't even seen him pull. A yelp left your mouth as you dodged the hit, desperately trying to be diplomatic.

"Look, the Mandalorian is out cold," You placated, ducking out of a knife swing by a hair's breadth, "He's the bounty hunter, not me. You and I, we can work something out."

This caught his attention, his yellow-orange eyes tracking your every breath, "You're not a hunter, but you're with the Mandalorian. You wouldn't betray him."

"He doesn't have to know," You reason, shoving every ounce of honey-coated deception you have into your tone, "Look at him! One hit from you and he's out like a light, big guy. There's no way he'll even remember this happened."

The Trandoshan's knife was lowering now, and your heart skipped a beat with hope. This was going to work, and when it did you were going to give Mando hell. You nearly smiled at the thought, but remembered where you were.

"What are your terms?" He hissed, and you take a calculated step towards him.

"I let you go free, and you let me leave with my life." You were getting nearer to the bounty, and he seemed to be so caught up in pondering your bargain that he missed your hand slip to the beskar knife Din had made for you a few months back.

"That seems acceptable," The bounty finally admits, slipping his knife back into its place and surveying you, "I'll-"

With a war cry, you launch yourself at the Trandoshan and jump onto his back, one arm around his neck and the other trying to plunge the beskar knife into his thick, scaled skin. He roars in response, spinning wildly and clawing up at you.

"Just die!" You pant, slashing and seeming to miss every swing.

Din was right, you really did suck at this whole combat thing. It's a good thing you were one hell of a thief.

"Y/N!"

It took more effort than you'd like to admit to keep the relief you felt from crashing over your entire form. Your eyes flicked up mid-spin from your perch on the Trandoshan's back to see the Mandalorian stumbling to his feet.

"Morning, sleepy head! Wanna join the fun?" You breathlessly call out, a tired smile on your lips.

The target takes advantage of your split attention and slices his razor-sharp claws through the tender flesh of your forearm. You clench your teeth to grit through the pain, "Not cool!"

It was mere seconds after the minor blow had been landed that the wild spinning and thrashing of the bounty finally stopped. Your dizzy mind righted to see a gloved hand grab the reptilian male and rip him to a stop.

You slide off his back, groaning to find your balance severely off-kilter. You fall on your ass just as Mando fires a shot at him, slicing it through the target's shoulder and making him roar in pain. His cry is cut off when Mando fires another blast into his skull, making the silence following the thud of the body deafening.

"Cold it is," Mando grunts, holstering the blaster.

The beskar helmet he wears immediately snaps to you, and you've been around him long enough to tell by his body language what he's feeling. Anger, worry, guilt.

Against your better judgement, your heart stutters as Din crouches down in front of you and reaches out for your bleeding arm. The lightning that crackles under your skin as his gloved hands tenderly lift your forearm makes your already dizzy mind spin. It takes the strength you've built up over the last few months to ignore the effect he has on you.

"You waited for a grand entrance, can't say I'm mad," You quip. His shoulders are tight as he keeps his gaze down on your arm.

"I should've seen him coming," Is all he replies, his voice that same sugar-sweet gravel that makes your inhibitions crumble.

"You know, I had it under control until I accidentally made a joke about the foot you chopped off." You laugh, the sound light in comparison to the biting pain, and Din shakes his head.

"That's not funny." He tried to sound convincing, but you could tell he was loosening up now that he'd seen your injury was just a scratch.

"It's a little funny," You fire back, a smile growing on your lips. He looks up at you and that damn mask makes your heart race and your mind wander.

It's the almost imperceptible breathy laugh he lets out, though, that makes you remember how far gone you are when it comes to him.

"I like it when you laugh." Your words are soft, and they're out before you can even think to stop them. Mando goes still before you, your arm still in his grasp. It's then that the position you're in, with him crouched before you, seems much more intimate than it did a few minutes ago.

You go still as one of his hands lifts to your face, and you nearly forget how to breath when he almost absentmindedly brushes a gloved-knuckle against a light bruise forming on your cheek from the fight. His fingers leave fire where they touch, and you can only dream about how it would feel if it were his skin and not his gloves.

He catches himself too quickly for your liking and stands, extending a hand down to you, "Come on, we've got a bounty to cash in."

You take his hand and let him help you to your feet, "I think I deserve a larger cut on this one. I did take him on one-on-one, you know."

"And nearly got yourself killed."

You glance up at him, your brows lifted in a challenge, "I saved your ass, didn't I?"

Din doesn't move back an inch, but rather stays towering over you and cocks his head in response, "Is that so?"

Your heart stumbles yet again. The air is thick with tension and unspoken attraction, and the way he's looking down at you isn't helping. Din is usually as close to void of emotion as he can be, save for his temper and inability to keep from sassing you. It's moments like this though, moments where he's almost playful, that make you remember just how powerful the hold he has on you is.

"Can't deny it this time, Mandalorian." You try to sound cool and calm like he always does, but fail miserably. He just hums before stepping back and breaking the tension-corded air between you.

"Help me get him to the Crest."

And you do, but as you work in the comfortable silence you've grown used to, you can't help but think about how lucky you are. This life, it may seem dangerous and hectic, but it's a blessing to you. It's everything to you. He's everything to you, he has been since the first few moments he found you. There was a sudden tightness in your chest, and you can't help but think of that day—the day your life would never be the same.

||| Months Prior

Your breaths were labored, your legs burned, your vision was blurred with sweat and tears.

You had nowhere to go, nothing in the bustling port town on Corrida could shield you from your fate. Panic clawed up your throat, so thick it nearly choked you.

Not like this, you pleaded to yourself, it can't end like this.

Mind-racing and heart-pounding, you swiftly and nimbly darted in and out of shops and between buildings. You danced in the shadows, became one of them. It was your greatest strength, your stealth, and even though it was what had gotten you into this mess, it was now your only chance at survival.

The day was turning into night, and as light dwindled your hope flared and grew. Once darkness settled over the town shrouded by mountains, your pursuers would lose every chance of finding you. All you had to do was find a way onto a ship and ride it out of this forsaken planet. Then, you'd be-

"Hey, you!"

The voice that rang out sent tendrils of fear to your very bones. You knew that voice. You'd know that voice for as long as you'd live. While there were still thoughts in your brain, that voice would haunt you. You ducked around the alleyway between two shops, your heart racing at a painful speed as you chanced a look in the direction of your old Master.

"You seen a girl running through here?" He snarled, his tone boiling with anger that he thinly kept composed under his Imperial getup. The Empire was gone, but unfortunately the New Republic could not monitor every planet in every system when it fell. You just had the supreme misfortune of dwelling in the town of a group of Imperial officers that refused to back down.

"There's plenty of girls here, be more specific," The shopkeeper he'd asked grunted, going about his work.

Your Master spoke to him for a few more minutes before you forced yourself to slink away, melting into the shadows growing longer as the sky grew darker. As you snuck around the back of the buildings, you heard your Master's voice rise in volume.

"Anyone who finds an indentured woman in a green cloak is to bring her to me, immediately."

You froze, looking down at the cloak around your shoulders. With a pounding heart you shucked it off, cursing the Imperial scum for the clever tactic. Now if he saw you sneaking around, you'd have nothing to hide your face.

Indentured. You bristled at the word, anger flooding your mind. What a pretty way to say enslaved.

You had to get out of here and fast. The Empire might be gone, but this town was still pinned under their thumb. These people wouldn't think twice before turning you over. The satchel that was slung across your body was heavy with the reason why you couldn't let that happen.

With silent steps, you made it all the way to the ship port. There weren't many options present, and the choice would be paramount. Pick the wrong ship, and you'd be cast into the streets for your old Master and his troopers to find you and the item you stole from him that was nestled in the bag you bore.

As you surveyed the ship port, you noted three choices. First, the light freighter that sat loading its cargo near the middle of the port—too busy, too central. Second, the old Razor Crest sitting nearest you—low profile, but you could've sworn you'd just seen a Mandalorian walk into it. That was too risky, too dangerous. Third, and most appealing, the CR90 Corvette—no one dangerous was entering, enough cargo to hide in, it was perfect.

Making your mind, you begin to dart across the ship port, dodging past the Razor Crest and towards the Corvette. It would work, it would be perf-

You skidded to a stop so fast that you nearly tripped and fell. Walking up to the Corvette was your Master, and he'd just begun talking to the owner. Your eyes widened as he motioned to the three storm troopers with him, and they began to search the ship.

This wasn't good, you weren't going to make if off of this planet.

Your eyes wildly searched the port and landed on the Razor Crest just as its back hatch began to close. It wasn't ideal, but it was taking off soon, and that made it your only choice. Holding your breath, you surged towards the beat up ship and vaulted into the space between the closing hatch and the ship's interior. Luckily for you, the Mandalorian you'd seen was in the cockpit taking off when you clanged and rolled into the ship's belly. The engines started and the ship lifted, and before you could comprehend it, you were leaving Corrida.

You escaped. You stole from the Imperial guard Finon Kane, the man who'd enslaved and tortured you and hundreds of others, and escaped. You were free.

A laugh of pure and raw joy bubbled out of your chest as you clutched your satchel close to your chest. You'd done it, you'd actually done it. The other slaves had cheered you on as you made your grand escape, had laughed and whooped with you as you bested Master Kane. And now, you were free.

You barely felt the ship slip out of the atmosphere of the planet as you shoved to your feet. Now was the tricky part—you had to hide from the Mandalorian until he docked somewhere else, and then you could-

A strong, gloved hand closed around your shoulder and whirled you around with such strength and speed that you could only yelp as you were pressed into the cool metal of the Crest's walls. One massive arm barred your throat, and the other held a blaster to your head. The Mando's grip was strong and he oozed confidence, but he was silent.

Silent as death, silent as the reaper in beskar armor.

His shining helmet tilted at you, and your heart dropped to your feet. He hadn't killed you yet, he just kept looking at you, inspecting you, almost testing to see if you were a threat or not. So, he wasn't a cold-blooded killer then. There was a heart, whether it was flesh or beskar, somewhere underneath his armor. You needed to exploit it, and fast.

A shaking smile made it onto your lips and you tried your best to seem as calm as he was, "A Mandalorian, and one with fine armor too. What a pleasant surprise."

"What are you doing on my ship?" Was all he gritted out, his tone rough and smooth all at once. A walking and living dichotomy that, against your better judgement, made your heart trip over itself.

"Is this your ship?" You noted, humming to yourself as your pulse thrummed, "I must have boarded without even looking, it seems so much like mine that I-"

The blaster moved closer to your skin and your words died, your eyes widening as the Mandalorian stared you down through his mask, "The truth, stowaway."

It wasn't a question, but a demand. Flattery clearly wasn't getting you anywhere, so you needed to find a different way.

"I need safe passage," You honestly announced, your charming, hopeful smile still on your lips to persuade him you're not a threat, "And clearly, Mando, you need some help around here. I could be of service to you, I've got a great many skills!"

"Can you hunt?"

He didn't mean animals. That was when you realized this Mandalorian was a bounty hunter, and you cursed every star for crossing your fate into bad luck.

"No, but I-"

"Can you fight?" He interrupted, his voice a calm and collected drill.

"Well, not particularly, but if you'd just-"

"Can you fix the ship?"

You were getting frustrated now.

"Never really been good with mechanics, but-"

"Then you are of no use to me." He decided, letting go of you and holstering his blaster. He stepped back and shuffled through one wall of his ship, looking for something, "I'll dock at the next inhabited planet and turn you over to-"

It was his turn to be cut off, but not by you. Instead, the whooshing of a cabin door opening followed by a child's giggle makes his words die out. Surprise skittered through you at the site. A child. This large, rough Mandalorian Bounty Hunter was taking care of a...a child?

As he stormed over to the little thing, he muttered soft chiding to it before picking it up gently in the hands that just held your life. The child nestled into the crook of his arm, batting its massive eyes up at him lovingly.

And, against every warning and better judgement, your heart, your very soul, melted at the site.

"You're a bounty hunter with a kid?" You asked boldly, stepping forward towards the beskar-coated hunter that turned sharply around to you, the kid still in his strong arms, "And what do you do with it when you're on jobs?"

"He stays here or comes with me," he rasps out simply. You let out a short, unbelieving laugh.

"And you say you don't need my help," You chide, being bolder than you should be and stepping up to the pair. The Mandalorian freezes as you brazenly pluck the child out of his arms, cradling the little one into your torso.

The pure shock of what you've just done makes Mando stand awkwardly, unmoving and sputtering for a moment as he tries to respond. Whatever he's saying keeps dying on his tongue as he watches the child giggle and play with your hair, nuzzling into you the way he was just doing to him.

"I can take care of him while you're on hunts," You reason, looking up at the Mando with a bright, unwavering smile, "And, as I was going to say before you rudely interrupted,"

This shocked the bounty hunter even more. The audacity of this woman, who could neither kill nor fight, to be so bold with him? It struck him into an astonished silence.

"I may not have any of the skills you listed," You continued, looking up at the Mandalorian with his child in your arms, "But I'm amazing at sneaking into places. I'm not a killer, but I'm sure a bounty hunter like yourself could use a good thief."

He crosses his arms at this, cocking his head at you in a way that makes you imagine his face with risen brows and a taunting gaze, "Obviously the sneaking part isn't your strong suit."

"Hey, I got in here, didn't I?" You challenged, holding his gaze before looking down at cooing at the child, "Besides, your little one likes me, don't you sweetheart?"

"Could you give him back, please?"

"What was that?" You hummed, tilting your ear towards the child before smiling at it once more, "I couldn't agree more. Your father does need to lighten up."

The Mandalorian sputtered at her words, not understanding how a little thing like you could have rendered him completely speechless and without knowledge of what to do next. No hunt he's ever been on has ever done that to this extent, and yet here you were. A stowaway that, as much as Din wanted to ignore, needed help. You tried to hide it behind your smiles and remarks, but he could see the desperation in your eyes, the worry in your soul.

You needed help, and damn it all he was going to give it to you.

Din cursed himself beneath his breath, shaking his head at you. If the Guild members knew what a softie he was under this armor he'd lose his entire reputation. He could slaughter targets without faltering, but throw in a child and a smartass stowaway and his spine leaves him.

"I'm not his father," The Mandalorian rebuts, but you can hear the lie in his tone, "I'm just looking out for him"

You scoffed at that, "Leaving him alone, taking him on dangerous hunts? Not things a good father would do."

"Hey I'm a great father!" His temper snapped, and you smiled smugly. You glanced up at him, tilting your head the way he'd just done to you.

"So you are his father?" You challenged.

The Mandalorian started and stopped three different sentences before he let out a defeated grunt and walked towards a far wall of the Crest. He slammed his hand onto a button and the door whizzed open to reveal a spare bedroom with three cots. A hope-filled, bright smile lit up your lips.

He was going to let you stay.

"You can sleep here. You'll earn your keep how you promised, but what I say goes, is that clear?" He ordered, staring you down. Your smile widened, and you noted to your memory the soft side the Mandalorian had that you'd bet only a few people had seen.

"I can't thank you enough, Mando," You responded, and he could see that you meant it. You handed him the child and moved to set your satchel, all that was left of your life, in the room he'd opened.

"Don't mention it." His voice of gravel ordered, and you heard him walking away. You couldn't ignore the sense of safety that he radiated, especially because you hadn't felt safe like this in years.

Thinking he was gone, your smile dropped as you sank onto the cot and rested your head against the cool metal.

"I'm free," You whispered, almost to ensure it was real. A genuine, small smile worked its way onto your lips and into your soul, "I'm free."

The Mandalorian watched from the other side of the ship, and he couldn't help the way his heart tugged. He didn't understand why, but Din knew he cared more than he should have to make sure you stayed free, to make sure you'd smile like that again.

|||

You'd only meant to stay for a little while until you had enough credits and resources to make it on your own. And yet, here you were. It had been months and you still hadn't found a way to leave Din and the child.

He had found ways to make you stay. When he got used to your presence, he found that jobs often went easier with your expertise in stealth. The two of you became a team, and with the child it almost felt like...

Your mind stopped at the word that wanted to come next. Family. You hadn't had one in years, and it scared you because you knew you could do this forever. You'd begun to fall in love with Din Djarin the moment he'd picked up the child for the first time, and by now you were properly whipped.

Once the two of you had the bounty secured away, Din turned to you without leaving room for argument, "Sit down."

You did as he instructed, settling down on the cot in your room as Mando grabbed a med kit and walked back over to you. Even as he sat on the cot across from you, his massive frame shadowed your smaller one.

"Give me your arm," He said quietly, his voice sendings shivers racing down your spine that only worsened when he took your skin into his gloved hands.

He inspected it for a moment before humming, "It's not deep, it should heal quickly without bacta."

You were silent as he worked, something out of the ordinary for you and he knew it. As his skilled hands worked quickly, his modulated voice reached out to you, breaking the silence.

"What is it?"

You knew what he meant. Knowing that he could see through every lie you threw at him, you sighed and settled for the truth.

"Today...scared me."

The words surprised your Mandalorian as he went still before you, his hands faltering with the bandage for only a moment before he continued wrapping your cut.

"The hunt did?" He prodded. You shook your head.

"Seeing you lying there..." You began, and shook your head, the image stuck in your brain, "That's going to haunt me for a while, Din."

He tucked the end of the bandage in, and you kept your eyes down on his work. You couldn't stand to meet his masked-gaze, he'd see the emotion working its way through your eyes. One of his gloved hands hooks under your chin and tilts your head up softly to meet his gaze.

"You saved my life today," He said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your skin, "As much as I hate to admit it."

His words had their desired affect and you laughed softly, shaking your head at him as your soul lightened. Din was right, he was alive and well and it had a lot to do with you. The thought calmed you, but you couldn't hide the way it still scared the very depths of you.

"I should be apologizing to you," Mando started, but you cut him off.

"Din-"

"No, shut your mouth and listen to me for once." His voice was sharp, and it made you go silent with surprise. There wasn't cruelty or anger in that tone. Instead, you found it wavering with what you could have sworn was fear.

The Mandalorian moved his hand from your chin to hold more of your jaw, and with the movement you could hardly think straight, "I almost got you killed today. Had I woken up seconds later, you would have been that Trandoshan's target and not the other way around."

The words made your mouth go dry, and you tried to protest them but Din held you jaw with a gentle firmness and shook his head. It wasn't often that he preferred to do the talking, but you could see how bad he needed you to hear him.

"I'm sorry, cyar'ika. I'm so sorry"

You were stunned into silence. You'd never heard him say any of those words before, not sorry and certainly not cyar'ika. You knew what it meant, and it made your head spin. Slowly, so not to startle him, you lift your hands and rest them on the cool beskar of his helmet. He goes still and you can't help but smile softly at him

"There is nothing to forgive, Din."

His hand drops from your jaw and somehow finds its way absently resting on your waist. The touch sends fire shooting through you, and you have to blink a few times to focus.

"Besides, if I could count the number of times I almost got you killed..." You sentence ended naturally as you laughed softly, and he joined in. The sound was honey to your soul and it made you remember that you'd rather be here than anywhere else in the galaxy.

Much to your disappointment, he pulled away and stood surveying you through his mask, "I should go check on the kid. Get some rest."

And then he was gone, and you spent the rest of the night wondering what in the stars you were going to do.

|||

You docked at Tatooine soon after, the ship in dire need of a tune up.

The last few days had been strange. You'd thought the near death encounter would continue to keep the two of you close like it had that day in your room, but he seemed to be ignoring you at any and all costs. He only spoke to you when he needed to and even then it was clipped and short.

By the time you saw Peli, you were dying to slug him over the head with one of her wrenches.

"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite band of three," The mechanic greets, jogging out to meet you with a smile, "Where's my baby?"

Mirroring her smile, you handed the kid over to Peli who eagerly tucked him close, stroking his long ears and cooing to him softly, "I only tolerate you two for him, you know."

The two of you knew better.

"Can you watch over him for a few hours? We have business here." Mando gruffly stated. You furrowed your brows and glanced over at him.

Business? He hadn't mentioned that to you. Then again, he barely mentioned anything to you these last few days.

"Go, go," Peli shooed, already turning around and walking with the kid back to her lodgings, "He and I will make sure the Crest is all fixed up, won't we precious thing? He loves his favorite aunt, doesn't he?"

Aunt, which would make you and Mando his...You brushed away the thought, not letting it bring you hope or joy. You smiled once more at the mechanic before following Mando as he quickly exited the hangar.

"What business do we have?" You asked. He almost seemed like he was not going to reply before he did so without even glancing at you.

"You'll see."

Your patience was waning, but you went along with it nonetheless. You hadn't been walking long on the desert planet before Mando ushered you in a bar nearby. The business ended up being nothing more than a job hunt, leaving you confused as to why the Mandalorian was being so stand-offish. He'd collected a new round of pucks and then left you to spend your evening alone however you pleased. You didn't know where he went and you didn't quite care. He was being an asshole to you, so you could return the favor.

You returned rather quickly to the hangar and the Crest, finding there was nothing better to do. After a few hours of cards and gambling with Peli and her droids, Mando still hadn't returned and you decided to go ahead and tuck the child in for the night. Bidding you friends goodnight, you hoisted the kid into your arms and climbed the hatch to the Crest.

"What's going on with you father, hm?" You asked softly, bouncing him in your arms. He stared up at you with wide, dark eyes, drinking in every word you spoke.

You walked him over to his makeshift bed, sighing as you settled him in it. You spent a moment longer tracing a finger down his wrinkled skin, a saddened look flickering in your gaze.

"He's going to be the end of me," You whispered, and could've sworn the kid's eyes softened on you. You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his brow and walked out of his room, "Sweet dreams, little one."

When you shut the door, your eyes traveled to the bandage still tied securely around your wounded arm. Although Mando assured it would be alright, it hurt like hell. You made your way into your room, grabbing a med kit as you went. You set the kit down on your bed and opened it, about to tend to your would when you heard footsteps and then the hatch closing to the Crest.

Your heart leapt into your throat and you stepped away from the med kit and out of your room, your eyes traveling over the ship until you saw the flash of beskar in the dark, "Finally, you were starting to worry me."

"I'm sure I was," came Din's response, but his voice made you freeze.

You watched in shock for a moment as he turned and stumbled slightly as he walked towards where you stood. With wide eyes, you barely could speak, "Are you...drunk?"

The Mandalorian came closer to you, his massive body making you take a few steps back. He kept advancing until your back was pressed against the cool metal of the Crest's wall.

"Din," you whispered, your heart racing as he stopped before you, settling his forearms above your head and caging you in. You could hardly think straight with him like this.

"Close your eyes, cyar'ika." His voice came, low and rough and gentle and slurred.

"Din, what-"

"Close your eyes." He ordered again. With him this close to you, your inhibitions were all but gone and you did as he asked, shutting your eyes. Before you, you could hear him let out a long sigh.

"I was thinking," He started, followed by the moving of his arms away from the wall. You furrowed your brows at the absence of his presence, but before another thought could leave, you heard a sound that made your heart stop and your mind go blank.

You heard him take his helmet off.

"Din, you're drunk-" You couldn't make it past that before he was cutting in. He's never taken his helmet off around you, it was the creed. It was his life. He'd regret this in the morning.

"Shut up." He murmured, his body heat returning close to you. Your eyes stayed firmly shut as he told you too, that way it wouldn't break the code he lived by. You felt his hands touch your neck softly and jumped slightly in surprise at the absence of gloves, "I know what I'm doing. Just keep your eyes closed, mesh'la."

His skin. His skin was touching yours.

Your breathing hitched, and you knew when he settled those bare, rough hands onto your jaw that he did so in a manner to feel the thrum of your pulse in your neck. It was wildly racing, quicker than it ever had.

"I was thinking," He started again, running his thumbs over your skin and forever ruining you from contact with anyone else ever again, "That you almost died."

His low voice had taken on an edge of sadness and you nearly opened your eyes out of habit, but forced them to stay closed.

"You almost died, and I never got to know what those pretty lips of yours tasted like"

What in the stars was happening? Was this real? Were you going to wake up and find it was all a dream in a few moments? Or was this finally putting the last few days into context? Even after your talk, the hunt had messed him up and haunted him just as it had you. And now here he was, his breath fanning across your skin and his lips almost brushing against yours.

You never imagined this would happen, not in thirty lifetimes did you think you'd ever know what it would feel like to press your lips against Din Djarin's.

And yet, in the next second, you knew.

Without warning, he captured your lips with his and pressed his body against yours, keeping you against the wall. He grabbed your hands in one of his, pressing them together over your head to keep you from touching his face. As his lips worked desperately, hungrily, passionately against yours, your knees buckled and his free hand slipped around your waist, keeping you from falling.

This had to be a dream, it had to be. This couldn't be real, but it was. You knew that he was drunk and that he'd probably not remember this in the morning. You tried to pull away, tried to force yourself to stop but he held you fast, crushing your body against his and making you forget your own name with his tongue in your mouth.

You didn't want it to end, but you knew it would have to eventually. It would end and you would have to go back to pretending like you weren't in love with him.

As if you'd brought it about by just thinking it, Din's lips left yours. He wasn't kissing you, but he stayed so close that his nose touched yours.

"I'm sorry," He breathed, his lips brushing against yours.

And then he was gone.

You stood there with your eyes closed long after you heard his bedroom door shut. You cursed every star in the sky, because now that you knew what his skin felt like, every moment without it touching you was pure and unbridled torture. This torture was worse than any you'd felt under Master Finon Kane and his troopers.

When you slept that night, you dreamt of Din's lips on yours.

|||

In the morning, you didn't know whether or not Din was going to continue ignoring you, address what happened last night, or pretend like the last few days haven't even happened. When you greeted him in the belly of the ship and he he greeted you the same as he has for months before heading off to find bounties, you realized it would be the last option.

Anything was better than the blatant ignoring, but having him act normal around you was horrific in itself.

"Hey little guy," You greet the child, a smile on your lips as you reached down and stroked his ear. He giggled up at you just as the Mandalorian walked up the hatch and into the Crest.

"So," You began, watching him set down the bag of pucks he collected in town. He goes still for a moment, but keeps his helmet firmly away from you.

"So," He repeats, sounding utterly anxious but trying to play it cool. It makes humor curl in your gut and you decide to push you luck.

"What's the plan for today?" You ask, and from the sigh he lets out you can see he was expected something regarding last night.

"Picked up some pucks in town, we can go through 'em and see what we can do." He responds. You nod, reaching down a hand and letting the child play with you finger.

"So getting drunk isn't in the cards, then?"

The sharp intake of breath from the Mandalorian nearly makes you crack with laughter. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep your humor at just the smile on your lips.

"No." Din replies gruffly.

"That's a shame," You sigh, looking up at him finally to find him already facing you and the child, "I like drunk you. He's fun."

"I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry." He states, making your humor dissipate in record speed. You hold his beskar-covered gaze for a moment, feeling the phantom scrape of his calloused hands on your skin and the touch of his lips to yours.

"Which part?" You ask, holding your breath in a way that made it clear whatever he said next would cement something between the two of you. He stays silent for a long while before walking up to you, the child between the two of you. He reaches down and strokes the kid's head lovingly before looking to you.

"Which part do you want to be the mistake?" Din whispers, the gravel of his tone silky smooth as it caresses you. He's playing with you, you suddenly realize. You played with him with the drunk comment and he's playing back, testing to see which of you will break first.

You have to smother your smile before it can make it to your face.

"Careful Mando," You respond, your tone barely stable, "You've got a clan of two to protect. I-"

"Three."

He interrupts you with such a sure, calm voice that you almost miss what he says, "What?" You whisper, your teasing gone.

"Three," Din repeats, "Clan of three."

Before you can respond, a nonsensical babble from below makes the two of you look down to see a confused and yet very aware child. His smalls hands are holding your fingers and Din's hand is on his ear, and for a moment it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

But then you and Din come to your senses, and you mutually decide to push off the game of testing the tension until it breaks again.

"We should go through those pucks," Din states, walking away and to the sack he set down earlier. With a smile that you're glad he doesn't see, you wonder how much longer you can go without telling him what he really is to you. You repeat what he said to you in your mind.

Clan of three.

Mando dumps out the bounty pucks, sorting through them as you lean against the wall, your arms crossed and giving your input with each one he clicks open.

"Another mercenary, set on Naboo." Mando announces, the picture of the target hovering over the puck. You click your tongue.

"After the Trandoshan, I think we should take a break from mercenaries," You advise, earning a nod of agreement from Din. He sets the puck aside and grabs another, clicking it on.

"This one's on Tatooine, but I think I'm ready to see something besides this desert planet," The Mandalorian notes, and you hum your agreement.

"Trees would be nice, like on Felucia" You add, an absentminded smile growing on your face, "Or maybe a nice water planet."

"Water and this armor don't go together, mesh'la"

You smirk at him from your spot at the wall, "All the more reason to go."

His sudden laugh is enough to make every sorrow remotely near your mind melt away. Everything is back to normal, everything is going well, everything is beautiful.

Until he clicks open the next puck.

That's when your world comes crashing down.

The silence that settles over the cabin is thick and unlike the comfortable one you are used to. Mando goes as still as death before you, his body taught under his armor. Horror, real and true, washes over every fiber of your being.

Because that's your picture on the bounty puck, and the one who put it out is Finon Kane.

No. No. This isn't real, this isn't happening.

Din says your name, slow and guarded.

No, not when everything was perfect. Not when you'd found your family, your clan.

You begin to shake your head, all of those years of torture and darkness roaring through your mind. You'd just begun to forget it all, truly forget it all.

But you guess it's true what they say, you really can't run from your past forever.

"Y/N, what-"

You're shoving through the Crest towards your room, leaving Din in stunned silence until he comes to his senses and follows.

"Where is it, where is it, where is it?" You mumble, blinding panic tearing you apart as you rummage wildly through your belongings. It only takes a few seconds before your hands close around your satchel, and your chest doesn't loosen even an inch when you lift it and find it still heavy with the item that is dooming you.

You clutch the satchel close and sling it across your body, standing to leave your room only to find Din blocking the path with his massive body.

"Cyar'ika, what's going on?" His voice is commanding as usual, but it holds an edge of panic that you can't deny.

You feel like a cornered animal, and your fingers clutch the strap of your bag tightly.

"Mando, move." You plead, moving to go around him only for him to grab your shoulders and pull you back.

"No, Mando move!' You beg, pulling against his hold, "Din please."

"Stop it!" He orders, holding you fast, his chest heaving with worried breaths. He stares at you for a moment before it seems to click in his mind, "What were you running from?"

You know what he refers to, you mind zipping back to that moment when you stowed away on his ship. Your silent for a long while, your panic not lowering an ounce. You've always felt safe with Din, always. You long to tell him everything, to let him help you because you know he'd never hunt you. You'd feel safe, but you wouldn't be safe.

The Mandalorian couldn't protect you from this, but you could protect him from it.

"I stole something," You whisper, your voice barely above a breath, "And my old master won't stop until he has it and me."

"What did you take?" Mando asks, his tone flooded with calculation as he tries to figure a way out of this, "If we hunt him down first, we can-"

"Din," Your voice breaks as you cut in, placing one hand on the beskar chest plate and longing for the feel of his skin again, "My reaper has come for me. And I can't let him take you too"

Before he can get out another sentence, you use your free hand to search in your satchel until your fingers close around the cool metal of what doesn't belong to you.

Then you pull out the lightsaber you stole and crack the butt of it so hard against the Mandalorian's helmet that he drops to the floor, unconscious.

He taught you that move with a blaster.

And now, you've saved his life with it.

You stand for a moment in silence, your heart slowly shattering in your chest as you look down at the love of your life. Tears cloud your vision, and you look up to see the child looking at you with confused eyes. You break, a sob wracking your body as you bend down to the Mandalorian's slumped body grip his gloved hand, pulling it up to place a kiss to his palm.

"I'm sorry," Your words mirror his from last night, and then you're pocketing the lightsaber that once belonged to the Empire and running out of the Razor Crest.

You're now his bounty, and if he knows what's good for him he'll let this one go.

Let you go.

||| Din Djarin

When the Mandalorian awoke, he was alone.

There was one heart-breaking moment of confusion as he sat up from his slumped position on the floor. It wasn't silent, but there was something missing in the array of noises. There was no laughter, no yelling. There was no light-hearted remarks, no sarcastic punches.

There was no her.

The thought jarred him so deeply from his newly-conscious muddled mind that he shoved himself to his feet, his heart pounding so loud in his chest that he could feel every thrum.

This wasn't happening. She wouldn't have just left, she wouldn't.

He stumbled out of her small room, his gaze wildly shooting around the Razor Crest. The child lay exactly where Din remembered, right before...

What the hell happened? How did he-

The memories came back in a rush—the hand on his chest that had distracted him as her other hand grabbed something from her satchel, something metal and cylindrical. She'd hit him with it, whipped it across his head like he'd taught her. She must've gotten the blaster...no, it wasn't a blaster. It was...it was...

Stars

A lightsaber. She'd stolen a lightsaber all those months ago.

The thought made his head spin and it took a great deal of effort to keep his knees from buckling. Whenever she'd spoken of her past, it had been vague. Mentions of an Imperial encampment even after the Empire's fall, the shoving of her city into slavery, the torture she endured at the hands of her master.

The very thought made him clench his jaw. The first time she'd spoken about this Finon Kane, he'd wanted to find him and slaughter him with his bare hands for ever laying a finger on her. And now...now he had a bounty on her and Din wasn't there to protect her.

The thought spurred him back into action. Din scooped up the child into his hands before rocketing down the hatch of the Crest and towards where Peli worked with her droids. The mechanic seemed slightly nervous, almost as if she was avoiding his gaze.

"Mando, off to do a hunt?" She asked, trying to sound casual and failing. Din didn't falter as he walked up and shoved the child into her arms. Peli startled as she took the kid, looking up at Din with wide eyes. She couldn't see the Mandalorian's face, but it was clear to anyone the pure, guttural rage tangling with a panic he's never known.

"What-"

"Where did she go?" He demanded. The mechanic sputtered for a moment, holding the child close.

"I don't know what you mean," Peli tried, and Din almost growled.

"Peli if you don't tell me where she went I will rip your tongue out," Din snarled. The woman looked at him desperately, her gaze torn.

"She told me not to tell you, Mando. How do I know you're not going to..." Her words died out and it took every ounce of Din's restraint to keep from yelling again.

"Hurt her?" He finished for the mechanic, his voice just as lethal when it was quiet, "She's in danger, Peli. Real danger, and if you don't tell me where she went someone else is going to find her first and she'll...she'll-"

He could't get the words out, couldn't hide the panic flooding his tone. Din didn't know what he'd do if someone else found her first, he couldn't even comprehend that she wasn't with him right now. He didn't think he'd ever have to know what it felt like for her to be absent. The mechanic softened immediately, letting out a long sigh.

"She didn't say exactly where she was going," Peli finally admitted, holding the kid tighter, "Just that she needed to get as far away as she could as fast as possible. When I asked, she said something remote, something green. She took the spare ship in the hangar an hour ago."

Mando didn't need an exact answer to know where she was going, he knew. With a brisk nod of his head, he gestured at the kid as he walked towards the Crest, "Watch him for me?"

Peli nodded, "Of course. Do you think she'll...do you think she'll be okay?"

The Mandalorian stopped, looking over his shoulder slightly so that the mechanic was in this peripheral vision.

"If she isn't, I'll burn the planet down."

With that he was getting on the Crest, his heart hammering in his chest and fear, real fear, flooding every part of his being. He shut the hatch and practically vaulted into the cockpit. Din threw himself into the captain's seat and swiveling to face the control panel. He didn't hesitate as he put in the coordinates. She mentioned trees earlier, and he knew the way she thought, knew she was smart enough to go somewhere with more jungles than cities right now.

Felucia.

He'd go, he'd find her, he'd knock her upside the head for running away from him, and he'd get her back.

And stars help anyone he’s found has so much as touched her.

||| You

It was strange, being on the run again.

Even though it hadn't even been a full year since you last were sprinting from your reaper, it has felt like a lifetime because of your company. Time slowed down with Din Djarin, and for a long while you felt safe, protected, home.

And now you were scrambling around, planet to planet, in the dark alleyways and through dense, uninhabited forests to put distance between you and...

You stopped for a moment, your back pressed up against a tree in the rich, winding forest of Felucia. Who were you trying to put distance between?

Finon Kane, his squadron of stormtroopers, and the only real family you've ever had.

That last one sent a spear of heart-wrenching pain racketing through you. Typical, so very typical, to find something so worth having and to think the galaxy would let you keep it. This galaxy was cold and cruel, it was a better thief than you'd ever be and you knew it, you knew it. And yet you let yourself get close anyways. It's a strange thing what love can do. It made you reckless enough to think that for once, just once, the galaxy would let you make it away with what you found.

It turns out you aren't as good of a thief as you thought, because the happiness you stole has been returned, and your time playing at a good life has run out.

You picked up your brutal pace again, trekking through the jungle and refusing to stop for even the barest of needs unless it was unavoidable. This would never end, this hunt. As you moved, the lightsaber in your bag banged against your hip, reminding you of what had gotten you into this mess in the first place.

You shouldn't have taken it, you really shouldn't have, but you couldn't stand to watch Master Kane take another slave's life with a weapon that didn't belong to him. He'd found it in the rubble of the fallen Empire and he thought he was entitled to it. It had been used as a weapon of terror during the Imperial rule and then after because of your master, and taking it? You'd not only done it so the weapon could be given back to the New Republic where it belonged, but because after everything he'd done to you, after all of the scars you bore because of Finon Kane, you'd wanted to hurt him. You had wanted him to feel every ounce of pain and desperation you had, and for that cause, you were willing to pay the price that was now due.

The jungle-covered planet would do well to hide you for a little while, give you time to gather up some credits in case you needed to run again. You walk around a grove of trees, the jungle beginning to thin the closer you get to a city. As you do, a sound you're all too familiar with makes you stop dead in your tracks.

A steady beeping, consistently increasing as it gets louder.

A tracking fob.

You barely have time to scramble around to the back of a thick tree when a blaster sounds out behind you, singing the side of the tree where you'd just been standing.

"Come on out, thief! I get more credits for bringing you in alive." The gruff voice of a bounty hunter wafts out to you, a hint of smugness in her tone.

Your mind is grappling for options as you sprint away from your tree and towards another thicket up ahead. Your feet are silent on the grassy floor and you deftly miss any roots in your path, so the bounty hunter doesn't notice you at first. When she does, it's made known by the firing of the blaster at your back.

Gratefully, the hunter has horrible aim.

Blast after blast burn into the trees around you, so you continue to stick close to them as you run. How the hunter found you is incomprehensible, but you don't waste time worrying about that matter and sprint for your life towards the city that thrives just outside the jungle's end. The only tricky thing would be making it across the large clearing between the end of the trees you were approaching and the city gates up ahead.

"Get back here!" The hunter shouts to you, falling further and further behind.

You allow the hint of a smile, but don't dare to slow down. The end of the jungle is growing nearer, and it's only a minute or so of sprinting before you're at the city g-

Another bounty hunter steps out from around the last tree in the clearing, a blaster held lazily in his hands. You skid to a stop so suddenly that your feet slip on the floor and you have to catch yourself with a hand to the jungle floor to keep from falling on your ass. You whirl around to go back the way you came only to come face to face with the other hunter ho had already been pursuing you approaching, her chest heaving with breath but her blaster lifted nonetheless.

"Nowhere to run, thief," The one behind you lilts, his voice heavy with experience and sounding almost bored, "Surrender now and I'll let you keep your life."

"I saw her first, the bounty's mine!" The first hunter grits, her eyes flicking from your face and to the hunter behind you. You turn halfway to keep them both in your vision, your heart pounding in your chest.

"You would've lost her if it wasn't for me," The other counters, both of their blasters lowered slightly. You would make a run for it, but you're directly in the middle of the quarrel, and they'd have you dead in seconds. So, you do the only thing that can save you, the thing you've wanted to do for months now.

You pull the lightsaber from your satchel, clutch it in both hands, and turn it on.

The argument between the hunters dies as a burning blade, as red as death and blood and anguish, ignites into the green of the forest. The two colors clash, one seeming wrong with the other, but you clutch it nonetheless and move before they can lift their weapons again.

"That's a..." The male hunter stands shell-shocked, his words dying as he watches you advance on the female hunter who has already begun firing at you.

You're clumsy with the foreign weapon, but her bad aim and you're mild understand of how to move the saber allows the blasts and blade of the same color to clash as they collide, saving you from the death her weapon assures.

Her weapon may bring death, but yours is death.

She nearly blasts your head off, but you manage to shove the lightsaber through her middle before she gets another shot out. Her strangled gasp followed by the thud of her body into the ground nearly makes you falter, but the sound of the other hunter approaching snaps you out of your own mind. It was you or them, you assure yourself.

You'd wounded the other hunter quickly, grounding him before turning the saber off and sprinting for the city ahead. As you did, you shoved the blade into your satchel and barreled through the open gates, the merchants and travelers bustling through gasping and yelping as you shoved through them. The second you were inside, you stopped running and allowed yourself to meld into the crowd, walking in their flow and moving in their manners. It was mere seconds before you were blended into their midst, the only difference between you and them being your heaving chest and singed clothes from a blast or two that got dangerously close.

You thought you'd made it out before a figure shot out of the alleyway you were passing.

A gasp left your lips as they grabbed you and tugged you inside faster than you could comprehend. Before you could reach for the saber in your satchel, the bag was ripped clean off your shoulder, nearly dislocating the limb in the process and making a cry of pain leave your lips. The sound couldn't even make it fully out before you were being pressed against the sand wall of a building with the steel edge of a blade at your throat.

Your eyes were wide and wild as they took in your surroundings—two hunters surrounded you expectantly, not counting the one holding you at knifepoint. They must have agreed to a split bounty and a temporary alliance.

"Check the bag," The one holding you grunts out. On command, one of the two standing around you searches the bag he'd ripped clean off, his hand rummaging through until a sickening smile lit up his lips. Slowly, he pulled the lightsaber out.

"It's here." His response was smug and nauseating. You knew this was going to happen, but you thought you'd have a least a bit more time before it did.

"Haven't seen a real lightsaber before," The other muses, the two of them in the back looking over the silver and gold-plated handle, "You're going to make us rich, girl"

"Give it-" You struggled against the hold of the hunter only for the knife to cut down into the tender skin of your neck, making your words collapse into a breathy cry of pain. He kept the knife embedded slightly into your skin, his eyes boring into yours as a smirk captured his lips, "Move again, and I'll knick an artery on accident. Then, we can see how long it will take for the life to drain out of your eyes."

The word accident rolled off his tongue with a promise, and you fought back a shiver of fear. The press of the burning steel in your flesh was agonizing, and you realized all at once that you were going to die. Whether it was here and now with this group of hunters or when they handed you off to Finon Kane, you were going to die.

The thought made your body grow suddenly cold.

You'd spent so many years thinking that you'd never have a family again, that you'd never know what it meant to love and be loved. It became your bleak reality, and then you quite literally stumbled into the two individuals that would become your entire world.

It was selfish of you to stay, so damn selfish. Deep down, you had known that Kane would put a bounty on your head, that he'd find you one day and make you pay for every bit of trouble he'd endured because of you. Yet you did it anyway. You stayed and you let yourself grow attached beyond hope.

You let yourself fall in love, and that was possibly the worst of the sins you'd committed.

And, just like the other sins, you had thought you could run from that one, thought its penance would never arrive. Now here you were, facing death at the hands of those in the very same profession as your Mandalorian while he was far away on Tatooine, probably wondering what had gone wrong. You knew you'd hurt both him and the child by leaving, but you would rather they be hurt and alive than dead.

"Now," The one holding you announces, stepping back and easing the knife out of your throat, "It's time to bring you to your master in top shape."

You barely had time to register the warm blood trickling down your neck from the cut of the hunter's knife before his fist was cracking against your cheek. The force of the unexpected blow slammed your head into the wall and brought you crashing to the ground. Your groan was just out of your mouth when the next blow came, this one to your ribs. A cry of pure agony slipped out as a loud crack resounded amongst your rib cage with the powerful kick, making tears collect in your eyes.

You felt utterly helpless as you desperately tried to lift yourself off of the ground, but you were so tired. You were utterly exhausted, and it took every ounce of your strength to pull out your beskar knife and slash the tendons along the back of one of the hunter's heels. Purple blood sprayed and he shouted, collapsing to the floor beside you.

"Get back here, you little bitch!" One seethed, grabbing you by your hair and yanking you up to your knees. Before your eyes could focus on where he was, you slashed with your knife. He must have seen it coming because he grabbed your wrist in a bruising grip.

"Drop the knife," He growled, one of his hunter companions still on the floor clutching his ankle and the other standing by the one who held you, the lightsaber handle in his hands.

"Give me the saber," You bargained breathlessly, your voice crutched with torment.

The hunters didn't like that very much, and the one holding the saber slammed it against your cheek. You took the hit with a groan, enough pain already crawling through you that you barely even felt it.

"This isn't a negotiation," The one holding you gritted, "Drop. The. Knife."

It was stupid, and you knew that you should just listen at this point, but you couldn't stop yourself from lifting your chin stubbornly and holding his gaze, "You'll have to break my hand."

"With pleasure," He snarled, his grip tightening on your wrist. Before he could snap it, a low, modulated voice rasped into the alley.

"Break her hand, and I'll make sure your death is the slowest."

You shut your eyes instantly, your shoulders loosening with both relief and agony. He'd come for you. Din had found you, and you couldn't stop the bittersweet feeling crashing through your soul. You wanted to hate him for it, wanted to scream at him and knock the sense of your desertion into his brain. But you knew you weren't capable of hating Din Djarin, not even if you wanted to. Especially not now as he stood like a dark angel in the entrance to the alleyway, glowering with rage wholly directed at the hunters left standing.

"This is our bounty, Mandalorian," The one holding the lightsaber sneered, "Find another-"

He was dead before his sentence could complete, his neck twisted at a wrong angle from where Mando had snapped it with his bare hands.

That made the one holding your wrist let go of you instantly.

"Y-You can have her, she's all y-yours Mandalorian." He stumbled back, running into his downed companion who had finally managed to limp to his feet.

Din didn't respond as he stooped slowly, grabbing the lightsaber and slipping it along his holster. He was as silent as death as he stalked up to you, his beskar clinking slightly in the tense silence. You were still on the floor, your skin bloody and your heart pounding so fast you thought it would burst. You wanted to crash into him and hold him, never letting go. You wanted to let him take you back to the Razor Crest and help you figure all of this out. You were safe with him. But he wasn't safe with you, and neither was the child. You had to protect the child, you had to protect Din.

The two remaining hunters were frozen in terror, trapped in the dead end alley like cornered prey. Din stopped in front of you, his mask peered down at you as his hand reached out. Much gentler than you could even imagine, his hand softly gripped your chin and tilted it upwards and to the side so he could see the blossoming, nasty bruise on your cheek.

His gentle fingers were in a fierce dichotomy with the rigid, furious posture of his body. Mando slid them down, leaving lightning where he touched as he lightly traced the cut in your neck. Your gaze locked with his mask, and he held it for a long minute. Then, he dropped his hand and cocked his head over at the two hunters.

"Which one cut you, cyar'ika?" His voice was dark and tender all at once, and it sent a shiver racing down your spine.

"The one limping," You responded without hesitation, your eyes up on him as he nodded once and began to stalk towards the two hunters.

Confusion rippled across their features, and the one who hadn't cut you was quick to shove his ally in front of him. Their loyalty only ran monetary, and even though you knew it wouldn't save his life he had to try.

"What are you doing? I t-thought you were a hunter!" The hunter who the Mandalorian had his sights on was shaking with terror, and it brought you a wicked sense of justice.

"I am."

The next few moments passed in a mess of beskar and knives and blood. The last remaining hunter could only watch in horror as Din ripped his colleague apart with a confidence that could make any skilled fighter wary. The man's pleas and cries were shrill, and the people on the main road were wise enough to keep walking as they passed.

Then, it was quiet. And Din turned to the last hunter pressed against the wall across from you.

"No, please. I'll tell you anything you want, I'll give you anything please!" He begged, but his hurried words were cut off by Din's hand on his throat. He tugged the hunter close, his beskar helmet splattered with blood.

"If you find anyone taking her bounty, tell them what happened here. Make sure they know they will suffer the same fate. Understand?" Din's tone was taught with thinly veiled anger, and you could tell that it was an effort to keep from killing the man.

The hunter nodded briskly, his eyes wide and his legs trembling. When the Mandalorian finally released him, he was sprinting out of the alley, leaving a tense silence to settle over the two of you that remained. Din turned towards where you still sat on the ground, and as he walked over you were suddenly aware of the conversation that was about to happen, the anger he was about to rain upon you.

Mando extended a hand down to you, which you took and gladly accepted his help as you stood. Your hand gingerly pressed against your cracked rib, every breath and every minuscule movement sending sharp, shooting pain through the area, "You alright?"

"I will be," You nearly whispered, you eyes locked onto his brooding, helmeted stare. There was only mere inches between the two of you, and you knew that if you stayed this close, you wouldn't be able to leave again. You went to step back, but he tightened his hold on your hand enough to keep you close.

"Let me go," You breathed, the words meaning more than just physically.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Din gritted out, his voice conveying the worry and hurt and anger that his mask hid. His voice broke your heart.

"Din, you have to let me go." You were almost begging now, and you could feel the tears welling in your eyes. He shifted his hold so that he was holding both of your hands, probably to keep you from reaching for the saber at his belt.

"Not again," He vowed, his usually collected voice portraying how barely bridled his emotions were, "Not until you tell me why the hell you left me."

You were silent for a moment, trying desperately to find a way to speak without showing just how deeply this was shattering your heart, your soul.

"Did you really think I would turn you in? That I would collect your bounty?" Din asked finally, his voice breaking.

"No," Your shaky voice finally began to work, growing stronger by the moment, "That's the thing, Mando. You wouldn't, which means when these hunters came looking for me, they'd find you and the child."

"You think I can't protect you?"

"Din, I have never known safety until I met you," You swore, the tears collecting in your eyes beginning to fall, "But the man who's hunting me, Finon Kane? He will stop at nothing until he has me and the lightsaber. If I had stayed, I would be giving you and the child a death sentence."

"Y/N, you're staying with me." The Mandalorian asserts, his voice trembling. You shake your head, your tears falling steadier now.

"Din please, you have to leave me here. Protect the child, it's your duty. You have to forget you ever knew me, forget I was ever with you, forget me."

"You think I could do that?" He cuts in abruptly, tugging you closer to show the urgency and truth of his words, "You think I could ever walk away and just forget you?"

His words were dangerous, and you tried to stop him, "DIn-"

"You have ruined me, ner cyar'ika. Every moment I spend away from you is torture, it's a moonless night that never ends."

His words leave you breathless, your eyes wide and your heart stumbling in your chest as you try and fail to find a response. He won't let you speak, though.

"The child and you? You are my clan, my family. You two are all that I have, and I am nothing without you," He's so close now that you can almost hear the unmodulated tone of his voice. Din lets go of one of your hands to rest at the base of your neck and bring your head close to his. What he does next...it's a moment that will forever be etched into your brain.

He brings his forehead to yours, and he leaves it there for a moment. The cool metal of his helmet bleeds into your skin, and you can't stop the soft gasp that leaves your lips. You grab onto his beskar-plated chest for support because you know what this is. On easy nights, Din would often sit and tell you stories of the Mandalorian culture. He spoke once or twice of the Keldabe kiss, a gesture meant to show love and affection. The meaning of this moment was not lost on you, and it nearly ripped out your heart to think that he could...that he could love you back. He possibly loved you and now you were about to die.

"I'm not leaving you," Din murmured, the cool beskar of his mask pulling away from your forehead. You felt the cool metal of something pressing into your hands and you look down to see him handing you the lightsaber, "We'll end this together."

You couldn't look away from him, couldn't bring yourself to walk away again. You were being selfish and stupid, but with what just happened, with what Din had just said, you couldn't leave him.

You simply nodded, "Okay."

Din nodded as well, stepping back from you, "Okay."

There was a moment of tension between the two of you, a moment where each was waiting for the other to say something more, to mention those three words that had yet to be spoken. You watched him walk towards the alley exit, following slowly behind. He'd begun to say some sort of strategy, but you weren't listening. You didn't know what was going to happen next, you didn't know how much time you had. You needed to say it, and you needed to say it now before you lost this chance.

"Mando?" You cut in, making him pause and look over at you as you entered the streets of Felucia, "I love you"

The Mandalorian froze, his muscles going taught. The bustling world around you seemed to dull for a moment, and all that was left was you and him. Your heart pounding in your chest and you felt your breaths getting shorter and shorter as you waited for his response.

You heard Din take in a breath to respond, but someone beat him to it.

"So this is what you've been doing all this time."

It was your turn to freeze, and your gaze was still locked on the Mandalorian's as your eyes went wide with fear, with terror. You knew that voice. You'd know that voice if the galaxy ended and then begun again a hundred times over.

Slowly, you turned to face Master Finon Kane and the six storm troopers that flanked him.

"I believe you have something of mine," Kane cut straight to the chase, his troopers making quick work of clearing the street while he stood not ten paces from you. Your fingers tightened around the handle of the lightsaber still in your grasp, and you saw Kane's eyes dart down to it.

"Hand it over now, and I might consider killing you. Your Mandalorian doesn't scare me."

There was no hiding the blatant horror inundating you. Those words, you knew what they meant. You preferred death to what you knew life with Kane would promise. Staring into his eyes, you were reliving every moment of pain you'd endured at his hands—every beating, execution, and humiliation, they haunted you.

You didn't know when Din had moved to your side, but you felt the nudge of his body next to yours, and it knocked you from your spiral. He was letting you know that he was there, that he wasn't going anywhere. And, looking at the odds, you could honestly say that the two of you had fared worse.

“Stand down and I’ll make your death quick,” you fire back, your voice surprisingly strong. Kane barked out a laugh as the six troopers fell into line behind him.

"You can't kill me, pet. You know it and so do I." With a flick of his fingers, his troopers were moving, two next to Kane and four fanning out in front of us.

"I know that," You responded quietly, but not weakly. Your fingers barely brushed against Din's hand, the movement so small it was imperceptible to those before you, but the way his fingers touched yours gave you the assurance that you were about to make the right move, "But he can."

The troopers couldn't even raise their blasters before Din and you moved on them. The next few moments were a blur, shining beskar and frantic blasts missing their targets as Din cut down the troopers with ease. You could hear feel the blast of the fire caster on his wrist as he incinerated two more.

He had four dead before you could even turn on the lightsaber.

Your eyes shot to Kane's, whose were wide with shock and a bleat of panic when he saw your hands move to grasp the lightsaber before you.

"Don't-"

His cry died in his throat when the red saber born of a bleeding, hate-filled kyber crystal ignited before you. You barely new how to use it, but it wasn't difficult to shove the burning side into the armor of the troopers.

Then, it was silent.

Din sauntered up beside you, standing tall and strong with his helmet cocked intimidatingly at Kane. You didn't turn off the lightsaber, but let its red light cast a vengeful glow across your features.

"You think you're so clever," Finon Kane spat, his desperation betraying him, "You think you could so easily b-"

His words were cut off by the hiss of a lightsaber meeting flesh, and something in your chest loosened as you looked up from where you had shoved the saber deep into his belly. Your old master's eyes were wide and his mouth gaping. He was shocked, he really hadn't thought you could do it.

"For every friend of mine you slaughtered," You grit out, shoving the lightsaber an inch deeper and making him cry out in pain, "Their souls are avenged."

He was dead before his body hit the ground, and you simply sheathed your lightsaber, looked to your Mandalorian, and walked away. You didn't realize that you were trembling until the two of you walked outside the city gates and Din's hand grabbed onto yours, large and warm and sure. The Razor Crest sat waiting ahead of you, and you nearly buckled and sobbed in relief.

"It's over," You whispered, you eyes dazed and your words no more than a breath as the gravity of what just happened crashed over you.

You stopped walking in front of your beloved ship, turning to face Din as he did you, "I'm...I'm free"

You let out a breathy, wild, joyous laugh and launched forward, wrapping your arms around the Mandalorian's neck. He paused only for a moment before you felt him melt into you, his hands slipping around your waist and holding you closer than life.

"Thank you, Din," You whispered, your words a vow and a prayer, "I am forever in your debt."

His hold on you tightened, one hand slipping up your back to hold more of you to him, "You owe me nothing. Your life is yours to hold, you are no longer in the service of any master."

Tears you hated to acknowledge slipped down your cheeks, and you were glad to be pressed so close to him so that he couldn't see them fall. He knew, though. He knew.

You didn't want to pull away, didn't want to know again what it felt like to be away from him. Eventually, it could not be avoided. You wanted to get on the Crest and fly away from this place, to bring your life back to the normal you'd fallen so deeply in love with, the one with the child and the bounties and the adventure and him. Especially him.

"Now," You announced, your tone light and jovial as you pulled away and looked up at Mando with a smile, "Where's the child? I'm sure he's been miserable without me,"

You began to walk up to the Crest, but you hadn't realized that the Mandalorian hadn't followed you until his voice called out and made you pause.

"He's with Peli, safe and sound."

You stopped in your step and turned around to see Din walking slowly up to where you stood. Something in his tone made your heart jolt. Your voice was no more than an unsure whisper when you spoke next, "That's good."

Din hummed, and the sound made every thought abandon your mind. He stopped in his gait when he was just in front of you, but not as close as you thought he'd be.

"Are we going to...get on the ship?" You asked, for the first time unaware of what he was going to do next.

"We will," He finally responded, taking one step closer to you and suddenly making you realize why he'd left the room that was quickly dissipating. He was torturing you, playing with you, and once again uncaged butterflies swarmed your insides, "But first, I want to talk about what you said earlier."

His voice was low and smooth and sure, in direct contrast to your trembling one as you tried to act cool. He was making you squirm and he loved it, "You'll have to be more specific, Mando."

Din took that last step closer to you, nearly closing the gap as he tilted his masked face down at you in a way that had your head spinning, "You know what I'm talking about, mesh'la."

You grappled for a response, you really did, but you didn't know what to say, didn't know how you could possibly respond cooly to that.

"Look at you, finally the speechless one." His voice was taunting and you could hear the smile in it. He grew more serious as he slowly pulled off one of his gloves and achingly slow brought his calloused hand to brush against your cheek. His skin on yours again almost had you buckling to the ground.

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar'ika," Din's words blanketed over you with such a tenderness that your mind raced to understand what they meant. You didn't have to think long, because Din held your chin and brought his beskar-masked forehead to yours, "I love you too, sweetheart."

In all the years of captivity under the Imperial rule on Corrida, you never thought you'd hear those words again, I love you. They were sacred and seldom spoken, and you had stopped hearing them long before your family was taken from you. And now here you were, pressed close to Din Djarin, a Mandalorian whose ship you stowed away on in pure coincidence, and you were hearing those words be said to you in a way that no one had before.

His voice was quiet and playful as he leaned closer to your ear, "And I've got plenty of ways to show it once you get your ass on the damn ship."

Din stepped back from you and turned, walking to the Crest as if he hadn't just promised you everything you've been dreaming of for months. With your pulse thrumming wildly, you followed after him.

"What about the lightsaber? We need to return it to the New Republic," You called out.

The hatch opened to the crest and he walked in without looking back, "They can wait. I can't."

Your cheeks were warm with a blush as you followed him into the Crest, and you couldn't help but wonder how you'd gotten this lucky, what you had done to deserve this. You didn't know, but all you knew was that you'd waited for long, torturous years to have the freedom of forever, and here it was. Here he was. Din Djarin was your forever, no matter how long the breath was left in your lungs.

Your past had finally died, and the ghosts had stopped haunting you. Your present was now your future, and you'd never look back again.

#the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin oneshot #din djarin angst #din djarin fluff #mandalorian oneshot #the mandalorian x reader #din x female reader #din x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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in-daddy-price-we-trust · 1 year

Text

All I Wanted - Part 2

summary: when you are kidnapped discovered by TF141 they can't help but fall in love.

pairing: 141 x fem!teen!reader (platonic)

warnings: mentions of child abuse, drugs, canon typical violence, kidnapping

Part 1 Part 3

AN: Here it is! The Long awaited part two !!

Hope you enjoy this just as much as part one !!

Price POV

This was not what they needed right now. When 141 first heard of a potential weapons trade for El Sin Nombre going down in Amsterdam, they couldn't wait to get on the field.

The suspense was killing them as they waited for the right moment. They knew at this point that trying to stop the deal would be more hassle than worth. So the plan of waiting for their food to come to them was a better solution.

Price stalled however when he saw her step out. No way this was who they were after. No one in a cartel would go about wearing over-pink clothes. It was stupid. Even more so when she started shooting back, with a pistol as well.

"Ghost, move in," the static of the radio crackled before a grumbled copy sounded back. Price watched as Ghost snuck up behind her, his feet silent as he kicked her knees in and knocked her out.

"Well done Ghosty," The Scotsman, Soap, cheered over the comms, making his way down to the evac truck they scheduled.

She sat in-between him and Ghost. "No way she's with Nombre," Gaz announced after a few minutes of silence, "She's a child!" A hum left Soap's throat.

"That's why we integrate her, Nombre or not, we can still use her to our advantage," Price concluded, sending the group back into quiet before she awoke.

Gaz was right. She was a child, barely reaching 16. Guilt hung heavy in his heart as he thought back to her crying. Cheeks red with tears and eyes puffy.

He dragged a hand down his face, muttering a 'Jesus Christ' under his breath at the discovery. Eyes flicked across the room, every single soldier in that room seemed to suffocate in the amount of tension.

With a heavy sigh, Price spoke again. "How about we make a deal?" her head shot up at the words, a mix of emotions slathered across her features. From here he could tell she was picking apart his words.

"You, stay with us and get a place to stay," Price's eyes drifted to his team behind her.

"But - you have to help us catch our guy," The words cemented in her brain, slowly nodding along to them. It couldn't be worse to what she was used to, can it? Worse case scenario, she runs away again.

"Okay," it was final, "But I need to get my gear first."

The drive was quiet. The radio played some random pop song that she muttered the lyrics too, fingers drumming on her thighs.

The boys seemed glad she accepted the deal. Although it may be the fact she was a minor and by the sounds of it, partaking in crime activity. Of course, this wouldn't be as different but at least all expenses were paid for by the government.

The car lulled to a stop, pulling up in front of the hotel. The door slammed shut before Price even registered her unclicking her seat belt leaving him to race after her.

A smile graced her lips as she greeted the lady at the front desk, who then proceeded to side eye Price. He would too if he saw a teenager going up to a hotel room with a 40-something-year-old man.

The pair continued to be silent in each other's presence, even when her fingers slipped together pressing and pulling on each one as a sort of fidget. The lift dinged at the second floor, Price hot on her heels to the hotel room. She muttered the number continuously under her breath, 105.

Number splayed in gold, she struggles to get the keycard from wherever she managed to store the thing, like seriously, where did she put things?

The door pushed open to the room. The white linen sheets still a mess from when she woke up this morning. What caught his eye was the absurdly bright duffle bag that sat on the middle of the hardwood floors, from where he stood he could make out the top of a pink sniper.

'Jesus the girl knew how to stick to a theme, that's for sure..'

Diligently she picked up the weapons she managed to slide into nooks and crannies. Picking up stray plushies along the way. Price tried to help, but whenever he tried to pick up a cuddly brown bear he'd get holes burnt unto his head. So he eventually dropped it, opting to stand near the door.

Before long she came up to him, bag over her shoulder and a determined look in her eyes. The trip back to reception was awkward. The same tense atmosphere seemed to follow like a shadow. The lift dinged again, the robotic voice announcing their arrival.

She marched over to the receptionist, explaining she was checking out early (even though there was still two weeks left) and saying if anyone needed it to let them have the room for free. The soft spoken words melted the workers heart, promising to do as told.

Your POV

Price was awkward. Maybe the commanding aura around him clashed with yours of innocence. But - you both knew yours was fake. To some extent at least.

"Why did you make a deal? - with me?" It was a genuine question. The want of appreciation and validation flooding through your veins.

His eyes flicked down to you, noticing you already looking him in the face. He huffed a laugh at it. Soft, warm. "Well - I'm not just going to toss a kid out on the street, am I?" It was the truth. Voice of honey and liquid gold washing over you. Clouding your brain.

"Thank you, Price."

"Doll, wake up for me yeah?" a hum fell past your lips as you stirred awake, rubbing your eyes.

"Are we back already?" voice hoarse and scratchy, a yawn coming from you mid sentence.

Price chuckled at you. 'Glad someone finds this amusing.'

"C'mon love - I'll show you to your new room and you can have a kip in there, kay?" His voice was soft, almost like the words would make you shatter and crumble like glass. Though it worked, pushing you out of the passenger seat of the car and onto the (now) familiar gravel plaza. Pink mary janes dragged behind you, sleep seeping into your bones.

That was soon rushed out of you when Mohawk appeared in front of you and Price. "Hi lassie, names Sargent John Mactavish but Soap is fine!" He beamed, pearly whites flashing down as you appeared wide eyed at him, stunned at the sudden (and quite frankly, loud) appearance. He threw a hand over his shoulder, pointing at the other figure you completely missed, "And that's Gaz." It was the shorty of the group, giving you a sheepish wave and a sympathetic smile at the loud Scot.

Price placed a hand on your shoulder, a slight apology maybe? You found yourself staring up at him before speaking, "Uhm.. thank- thank you Soap-?" cursing yourself for stumbling over your words. The nicknames getting caught on your tongue at its strangeness. "What kind of name is 'Soap' anyways?" He laughed at that, full belly laughed. Sort of high like a bell, although pleasant.

"M' Afraid I can't tell ya that, confidential," It was spoken with a wicked grin plastered across his face. The smile contagious and making the pink bands of your braces show. "Why don't Gaz and I show you to your new room?" A glance to Price and his nudge of the head allowed you to accept the offer, Soap instantly grabbing the bag from off your shoulder and pulling you along, going on to ramble about his hometown in Scotland.

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#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #john price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #141 x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod #call of duty fanfic #x reader

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bimbobaggins69 · 4 months

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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐬.

𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a new life in a seemingly nice town sounds appealing, doesn’t it? But what happens when that nice town has a dark past; and some things you think are real, are just a figment of your imagination…or are they?

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: modern setting, small mention of dying, angst, cliffhanger.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this whole idea came about from the books ‘scary stories to tell in the dark’ (which were my fav as a kid), it’s so different from my usual stuff so i hope you enjoy the little switch up (: thank you to my lovely betas @xxhellfirebunnyxx & @stveharringtn <3 totally set this up for a part two with possible smut, maybe? in the wise words of Dolly: ‘give us your ghost cock, Edward!’

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k

The red and green leaves crunch under the soles of your mary janes as you walk through forest hills trailer park, your new place of residence. You send a quick message to the group chat that you have with your cousins, who you're on your way to meet at a new bar in town. A slight chill runs through your body when you make it to the rickety bench bus stop that sits desolated in front of the trailer park entrance.

You had moved to Hawkins a couple months ago on a whim, to be near your cousins who you’ve had a close relationship with since you were a toddler, despite only seeing them once a year or on the occasional social media posts. You had moved with only a year of savings and nothing else to your name. Luckily your aunt had a realtor friend who helped you buy a trailer, which was about the only thing with a cheap enough down payment for you to afford. You found a job at Hawkins middle school as a teacher's aide to Hailey Sinclare who you've become good friends with in the short time span.

The breeze picks up, kicking you out of your reverie and making you wiggle uncomfortably as the old wood digs into your black nylon tights, you lift each thigh to look for any snags in the fabric but before you can fully asses them, you hear footsteps and the loud crunch of leaves moving closer towards you– a gasp leaves your lips as you whip your head around looking for other signs of life. The sun is setting on the horizon and the only thing that surrounds you are the leafless scads of trees from the eerie woods.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.” The voice of a young man utters from behind you, seemingly coming out of nowhere.

“Oh, um its- its fine.” You murmur as he comes into view, you haven't seen him around but that's not saying much considering you've only moved here two months ago.

His long shoulder length waves sway with the breeze, and his big brown eyes seem to bore into your soul, making you swallow harshly before your head lowers. You begin staring at your black shoes, checking them over for scuffs, as if that was something you actually cared about.

“So where are you headed, lookin’ so pretty?” He asks with a half smirk, all the while placing his jean jacket that is embellished with an array of patches and buttons over the bench. Most of the bands were ones your dad listened to so in turn you grew to love. You were surprised to not find one single patch or button of a more modern band, but figured he must love the old stuff, that’s respectable.

“I’m meeting my cousins at some bar in town.” You say with a gesture of your hand in the wrong direction, not yet accustomed to where town is or where the leaving hawkins sign sits, which happens to be in opposite directions.

He smirks as if he realizes you don't belong here, and a feeling of embarrassment heats your soft cheeks.

“Sounds fun.” Is all he says as he kicks at some rocks and leaves with his dirty reeboks.

“Where are you headed?” You ask, feeling a pull to keep the conversations going with this stranger.

“Oh ya know? Wherever.” Is all he divulges with a shrug of his shoulders, you nod in faux understanding, even if a million questions begin to rack your brain. Maybe he wants to appear mysterious, he wouldn't be the first guy to try that out on you.

He pulls a cigarette from behind his ear and fishes a lighter out of his pocket, lighting the tobacco stick before offering it to you. You decline, a part of you is surprised he doesn't vape like the majority of today’s youth. The smell brings a sense of nostalgia to you, remembering the times you’d climb into your grandpa's lap when you were a kid while he smoked his cigarettes and drank his coffee.

“What's your name?” He asks as his eyes continue to graze over you.

You tell him, but find yourself unable to meet his eyes. Something about his big chocolate orbs make goosebumps travel along your already chilled skin.

“And yours?” You question with a tremulous edge.

“Eddie.” He answers before flicking the half smoked cigarette into the overgrown grass, beneath your feet.

“You live here, Eddie?” You ask curiously.

“Sure do, lot 15, been here almost all my life.” He hums, before a vibration in your back pocket startles you out of your stupor.

You quickly pull it out, smiling at the text message your cousin Bella sent you.

“Whoa…what is that?” The boy you now know as Eddie, says with an astonished lilt.

“What’s what?” You shriek as if he was gonna point out some type of bug species that had somehow found its way into your hair or on your body.

“That thing in your hands.” He says pointedly.

“Oh, uh this is my phone?” You can't help the questioning tone that slips past your lips.

“Phone? Like you can call people on that?” He still sounds astonished as if he's never seen an iphone before, which living in this century is close to impossible; unless he was amish but from the look of him, you found that highly unlikely.

Before you could answer his unusual question, the loud brakes of a bus pulls up alongside the bench. Eddie quickly stands, throwing you one more questioning look before he begins walking towards the open doors.

“Well, see ya around sweetheart.” He announces, before throwing you a wink and stepping up onto the platform of the bus that was headed in the opposite direction in which you needed to go.

“See ya.” You murmur back with a smile.

The wind picks up as the bus begins to drive off, leaving you to cross your arms over your exposed chest. Something out of your peripheral captures your attention, and you quickly realize Eddie had left his vest thrown over the bench. You yank it off and stand up, ready to run towards the bus to retrieve it. But the bus’s tail lights can now barely be made out in the fog, too far for you to catch up with on foot. You huff and throw the vest over your frame, the added layer brings a desired warmth to your body. You sit back down, the bench squeaks underneath you as the sun begins settling deeper over Hawkins, bringing with it an unsettling feeling to your gut.

The bus pulled up ten minutes after Eddie had left. You made it to the bar to meet your cousins an hour late but had a great time with them nonetheless. Drinks and shots were passed around, you had danced your ass off having the time of your life, something that hasn't happened in what feels like forever.

Being closer to the city, you were able to take an uber back home all the while Eddie’s vest continued to adorn your figure. His brown eyes, ringed fingers and boyish smile stayed in the back of your mind the entire night, and a part of you couldn’t wait to return it to him.

You wake up the next morning on a mission, drinking your cup of joe and eating your avocado toast, before you shower and slip on a pretty flowy dress with your platform doc martens, hair styled and light makeup applied.

You realize as you walk the trailer park with his vest in hand, that he lives on the other side of you. Lot 15 comes into view and you see an old red truck that looks like it hasn’t been driven in years, parked next to a new silver prius. The steps are falling apart and the couch sitting on the porch sags, with stains and cigarette burns.

You knock on the dingy front door, before you bring your slumped shoulders up while pushing your chest out in an attempt to look more confident, even as your heart thumps behind your rib cage.

A middle aged woman answers the door with a small smile—

“Hello, can I help you with something?” She asks sweetly.

The beep of a machine captures your attention and you find yourself looking past the ladies shoulder into the living room, where an older man is lying in a hospital bed, sitting in front of an old television set that's playing cowboy westerns.

“Yeah, um Is Eddie here?” You ask timidly.

“I’m sorry, who?” The woman's eyes are wide as she looks you over, eyes almost as big as saucers when she notices the vest in your arms.

“Eddie; long hair, brown eyes, rings on his fingers, owns this vest.” You say as you lift the gramnet closer towards her, revealing the big dio patch that’s sewn on in the back,

“I’m sorry, is this some kind of joke?” She says with a bewildered expression.

“A joke? Why would this be a joke? Is Eddie here or not?” You slightly snap as your patience begins to wear thin.

“Sweetheart, Eddie Munson died in an earthquake thirty seven years ago.”

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

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I've been dreaming of my First Friend.

In this strange new world, nothing is certain—not even one’s safety.

But through it all, you were with me. Always by my side.

Please don’t leave me behind.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

"Grrr...! This stupid thing won't close," Grim complains. He fumbles with the buttons on his robes, which refuse to be secured.

"That's because you've got two left thumbs... or, more accurately, no thumbs at all," his human companion teases. They crouch down, gesturing for him. "Here, I'll help you."

"Myahaha, that's my minion!" Grim scrambles over on all fours—definitely not like a cat. He's far more dignified than some glorified house pet or familiar.

"You're going to get your clothes dirty if you walk around like that," they scold him lightly as they cinch his robes shut, then dusts him off. They pause, going in to adjust his waistband, then the angle of his cap. "There you go." "All set for your big day."

"Our big day," Grim corrects, nudging them on the cheek with his paw. "We're a 2-for-1 deal, remember?"

"Right. Me and the almighty Grim-sama," they reply with a laugh, poking his little nose.

An ear-splitting sob disrupts the intimate scene. Three ghosts in top hats and gray cloaks sail in—one small, one plump, one scrawny—all wailing.

"I can't believe this day's finally arrived!"

"Grimmy and Prefect, all grown up... Off to tackle Twisted Wonderland head-on..."

"WAAAAH, I'm gonna miss my living roomies!!"

"Hey, hey, what's with the empty nest syndrome, guys?" The prefect huddles with the ghosts. They cannot physically touch, but the same energy is there, their arms lingering where the ghosts’ bodies float.

“B-But…!”

“Don't worry. No matter the time or place, we'll carry the spirit of Ramshackle dorm with us wherever we go.“ They smile sympathetically. “That means you’ll always be with us! This world, this life… and into the next.”

"D-Do you really think friendships can last more than a lifetime?" one ghost asks through his tears.

"For sure. So please… Don’t cry because it’s over. Smile because it happened. Can you do that for us?”

“O-Okay,” the trio blubbers and sniffles.

“Geez, you’re all a buncha babies,” Grim sighs, paws on his hips. “C’mon, we’re supposed to be celebratin’ US today!! Like my minion said, let’s see some smiles, yeah?”

“We’ll come see you off at the ceremony the,” the small ghost suggests. The cheer is strained, like he is holding back a torrent of tears.

"The ceremony…” The prefect’s eyes go wide and panicked. “Oh crap, we're going to be late! The headmaster should already be starting his speech...!"

"Not a problem, leave it to this Grim-sama. A teleportation spell's easy as takin' a tuna can from a kitten!"

"Sorry, guys. Gotta run...! We'll see you there?"

Grim expertly clambers onto the prefect's neck, making himself comfortable as a boa on their shoulders. The magestone dangling from his neck lights up, and the duo are enveloped in its glow.

The last sight before they blip away are the ghosts, waving good-bye with wet eyes.

A blink later, the two are among a crowd of students in the same uniform as them. Long robes, graduation caps affixed to their heads. They're lined up behind a stage, the curtain stained the dark sapphire of a night sky and dotted with sparkling stars.

Crowley's voice drones from the other side, amplified by a microphone. A waiting crowd murmurs appreciatively as he crows on about hard work, congratulations, and new beginnings.

"See?" Grim winks at his minion. "What'd I tell ya? Anything’s a cinch with my magic~”

"Great going, archmage-in-the-making. You really saved our butts," they say, ruffling his fur. “Come to think of it, were running late for our first day too… and the sorting ceremony before that. I guess we’re destined to be tardy together, huh, Grim?”

"Heh, you got that right!" He bumped his tiny fist with his partner's. “Let’s keep at it, you ‘n me! Grim-sama and his loyal minion, together forever.”

"Oiiiii! Grim, Prefect!!"

"Oh, that’s..."

They glance up, finding a group of boys making their way toward them in the crowd. One with a heart etched onto his face, the other, a spade. A wolf beastman, another with reptilian eyes and slicked back hair, trailed by a smaller, delicate boy and an android with a head of blue flames. Old friends from the other dorms.

"There you are. We thought we'd missed you." Deuce calls out, looking relieved.

"Idiot, we wouldn’t have missed them—you worried for nothin’. They're first on the chopping block cuz they're sooo special." Ace rolls his eyes. "Lu~cky. You get to show off and hog the spotlight before anyone else does.”

"We um... wanted to come and say good luck," Epel offers. "It's a big deal to have made it this far. Starting a new life in an unfamiliar world and all, it's a lot."

"Thanks, everyone. I really couldn't have made it these past few years without your support."

"Ah-HEM!" Grim coughs.

"... And Grim," the prefect added, scratching him behind the ears.

"This is really it, then." Jack is blunt, his arms folded. "Our last chapter at Night Raven College."

"Hmph! Is that all you have to say?! Surely you can muster up more oomph than that!! Today is not just that--it is the start of the rest of our lives." Sebek straightens, looking rather proud.

"Hmm..." Ortho taps at his chin contemplatively. "You know what? When words are not enough to express ourselves, action may be the next best thing!"

"... Wait, what exactly are you suggesting?" Ace asks suspiciously, an eyebrow raised.

"A group hug! For one final sendoff."

Sebek is the first to protest, his voice cutting through loud and clear. "I refuse!! There is absolutely NO WAY I am engaging in physical intimacy with you humans!"

"Not so hot on the idea either."

Ace and Deuce warily stare at each other. "Not happening," they chorus at the same time.

"Well, if the others don't want to, then..." Epel trails off.

"Guys, shut up and group hug already," the prefect groans, throwing their arms around their friends. Reluctant grumbles round the group, but no one makes an active effort to peel away.

“GACK!!” Grim chokes out, crushed between everyone’s chests. When their bodies recede, he collapses, vision spinning, seeing stars.

“Hahah, looks like Grim got flattened like a pancake,” Ace jeers. “Still got it in ya to waltz on stage after that?”

“C-Can it!! Of course I do!” he snaps back.

The timing is opportune. Right then, Crowley’s speech reaches them, a summons.

“… We will now begin calling up our students to receive their diplomas, starting with Ramshackle Dorm.”

“Looks like that’s our cue, Grim.”

“Let’s get goin’!!”

The prefect steps back and passes one final look to their peers. People from many different places, many different backgrounds. United at last.

“Go.”

They do.

Clutching onto their graduation cap, the prefect races up the steps from the wings. Grim bounding along by their side. Every stride equal against the other’s.

Like shooting stars, they’ve come so far. They can’t go back to where they used to be.

When they emerge from the darkness, they’re hit with bright sunshine and stage lights. Spring is in full bloom, welcoming them with balmy weather and armfuls of flowers.

The headmaster beams from behind a podium, gesturing for them to approach. In his grasp, two scrolls secured with navy ribbons.

Their diplomas.

“Presenting Grim and the Prefect, our special students sharing the spot of Valedictorian.”

Grim squeals, soaked up the adoration. He waves at the audience, flashes silly poses for the cameras. The prefect laughs, prodding him along with their hands.

“Come on, let’s not stall the ceremony for everyone else.”

“One moment.”

A smallish figure blocks their path. It’s a young man with crimson hair and heart-shaped ahoge. He holds out his hand--and the prefect, stunned, takes it.

"Riddle-senpai. You've returned."

"Prefect. Grim." He politely greets them, shaking their hands in turn. "May the Queen of Hearts and her spirit of strictness guide you as you cross this threshold in life. Remain disciplined, and I know you will both achieve even greater things."

Riddle releases, and another seizes their hands. This shake is rougher, looser.

"Congrats, you survived four years at this place," Leona purrs. He wears less of a smile and more of a bemused smirk. "Persisted, like the King of Beasts did."

His duty done, he casually drops them. Azul elegantly ducks in, his grasp firm and tone professional.

"Fufu. What an honor it is to reunite like this. Your benevolence has done much to improve our dear Night Raven College. The Sea Witch would surely extol your generosity."

"Prefect, Grim!!"

Azul steps back with a bow, making space for the next person.

Kalim practically collides with them, excitedly yanking their hands up and down as he chatters. "So good to see you again!! Gahahah, you haven't changed a bit! I bet you're much wiser now though--maybe just as mindful as the Sorcerer of the Sands was!”

Behind him, someone clears their throat. Awareness hits him and Kalim gasps, letting go of the graduates.

"It takes considerable tenacity to arrive at this milestone,” Vil says, clasping the prefect and Grim’s hands in his own. Then, he smiles ever so slightly. “… Be proud, potatoes. Your efforts have not gone unnoticed by the Beautiful Queen.”

He steps aside, allowing a gloomy, hooded figure to replace him. Idia grimaces, shielding his eyes from the lights glaring down at him.

“Tch… Dragged me out here for this,” he mutters, keeping his clammy, pale hands shoved squarely into his hoodie pockets.

A pause—and Idia managed an anxious smile. “GG or whatever. I guess even an amateur can clear hard levels if they’re diligent enough. The King of the Underworld was a noob at one point too.”

(“Is that really the most encouraging thing you could muster?” Vil tuts from the sidelines.)

With that, Idia shuffles off, joining the other ex-dorm leaders.

“Nyahahah, it feels nice to be recognized~” Grim snickers.

“Well, I certainly hope you haven’t had your fill yet.”

A frigid touch comes upon the prefect and Grim’s hands. That voice, like sudden nightfall. They find themselves staring up at a colossal shadow with leering green eyes, scales studding their forehead.

"M-Myah?!” Grim’s fur stands on end.

“Even you came, Tsunotaro!!” the prefect gasps.

“I wouldn’t miss this ceremony for the world,” Malleus smoothly reassures them. “I wished to lend my support to my dear friends and send them off with my blessing.”

He raises his arms to the open sky. Bright blue, barely a cloud in it. Sunlight pouring down, framing the ceremony in a golden spotlight.

“The Thorn Fairy’s utmost value is nobility. As you of the new generation sally forth into the world, let your souls shine as noble and true as her own.“

Uproarious applause rises, cheering and clapping combining into one frantic melody. The flowers blush, swelling large and healthy with color. The sun itself seems to brighten too, the wind lifting in a joyous, effervescent song.

“Congratulations...!!”

“Waaaah, Tsunotaro made the whole world light up!” Grim cries, eyes sparkling. “Heheh, okay, that’s a pretty good one—but watch out cuz one day I’ll be one of the top 5 strongest, most charismatic mages too!”

“Fufufu. I look forward to that day.”

Malleus bends down, his lips puling back to reveal luminous teeth.

“May you never be apart,” he whispers, so quiet that no one hears. Then, more loudly, “Congratulations. I wish you all a happily ever after.”

“I dunno what you’re goin’ on about, but thanks for hypin’ us up!!” Grim grins from ear to ear. “Today’s definitely… the best day ever!”

“I’m glad of it.”

And may it remain that way, forevermore.

357 notes · View notes

sexydoffyman · 8 months

Note

OMG HIHI OK SORRY FOR MY LIKE REALLY HYPER BEHAVIOR HUT IM WHIPPED FOR THIS SERIES 2 OMGG PLSS MAKE MOREE

😍

FOR PART 3 LIKE UH I DONT HAVE ANYTHING SPECIFIC IN MIND BUT U COULD MAKE IT LIKE A COURTING HC BUT ITS UP TO U BECAUSE WE EATING THIS SHIT UP FR

FIGHTING OVER YOU P3

navigation

p1 p2 p3

genre: romance?

characters: Ghost, Soap, König

A/N: I'm so sorry. I tried to research what courting means and, yes, I know you told me. English is not my first language.🦀 I'm falling asleep as I'm writing this lmao.

artist @ave661 check their stuff out, my fellow humans!

When you catch on that they are following you around constantly, you decide to talk a little with them.

You met Soap the other day and immediately went to strike up a conversation.

"Sup Soap!"

Soap will turn around to face you so fast.

He looks like a puppy waiting for its owner to play with it.

It's adorable.

His eyes just light up. You finally recognised his existence.

He wouldn't even respond right away. He'd just look at you. Love overfilling his eyes.

He just looks so comfortable.

Now Ghost is always near Soap, so when he hears your voice, he's there in a matter of seconds.

You know the meme "He's pretty" "And you're ugly. Now let's get to work."

Yeah, that is basically what happens.

They don't even notice König lurking behind the corner.

He was waiting for Ghost to get Soap away from you. Now he has you all to himself.

You turn around to go to wherever when you meet yourself with Königs chest.

You really have to look up at him.

He smiles. You can't see it, but he smiles.

He just waves at you like he isn't a threat to society.

You also smile at him.

Now König is a little older, so he knows how to keep his shit together.

Now switching back to your POV.

Soap just got taken away from you. And you have another opportunity to talk to one of them.

"Hey König!"

"Hallo M/N (male name)"

"You really fucked them up last mission." You told him, trying to make small talk.

He appreciates that you pronounced his name correctly. A thing that happens very rarely to him.

He turned around and looked back at you "You wanna-"

BANG

Before he could even finish a heavy shoe smacked into his face.

You quickly realised that Ghost took care of another simp. Who was going to get rid of him tho?

Price.

Our g'ol captain Price is ready to put all of them to their senses.

Slapping Soap on the back of his head and pulling Ghost off of Soap.

It was hard for him to get Soap out of Ghost's chokehold. But he managed to do it.

It's Price, after all.

He scolded all of them while you couldn't stop chucking in the corner.

"Leave them to me Price. You've tortured them enough."

All three of them look up at you, to which Price can only laugh.

"That might work just the best. Don't let them tear you apart!" He said as he left the room.

p4 a little date with the trio?

474 notes · View notes

ghouljams · 9 months

Note

“Wouldn't he come with you, to wherever you did marry?”

Ghoul I’m actually sobbing. Quit making me fall in love with this man over and over again

It's the yearning, the knowledge that it has to end at some point. The way Ghost can't stomach the thought of his princess with anyone else, while also knowing he can't trust anyone else to protect her. That he has to follow where she goes because if he doesn't then who will? He would go with her. He would, and it would kill him.

I apologize for NOTHING! I want "Don't go where I can't follow" Ghost and I'm going to write him.

Marriage interviews are tedious, boring, wastes of time. You never like any of the candidates your parents put before you, and you don't really see why you should. Pompous assholes with nothing better to do than chase your title. You don't even think they like you for more than your crown, and if they do they certainly aren't very convincing with it. That's why you're glad to have Ghost with you, ever your silent companion, just a step behind your chair as you listen to your newest suitor rattle off his qualifications like the preacher flubs his latin. Boring.

"Would you help me onto my horse, if I hadn't asked you?" You ask him quickly, starting your favorite game.

"Your horse?" The Duke makes a face, "I hardly think it's proper for you to be riding horses."

"My knight always helps me on and off my horse," You tell him plainly, you can feel Ghost's eyes slide off of you and fix themselves on your frowning suitor. It is fun to have him scare them a little.

"Well I-"

"And if my shoe came untied, would you tie it?" You lean forward, to hook your fingers in the handle of your teacup. The duke's eyes dart to your chest. You can hear the creak of leather, Ghost's hand tight on his sword hilt.

"That's not-"

"Would you help me across puddles, lift me to pick flowers from high stems? Would you share your meals with me, sneak me drinks at parties, hold my hair when I'm sick?" You can feel your voice raising, how dare this man think he could ever compare to what you already have. What you- What you can't have. "Would you tell me terrible jokes because you know they make me laugh? Would you take my tears as your own, my offense as yours? Would you fight for me? Die for me?" Your voice breaks and you have to look away.

"Yes," Ghost whispers behind you, and you feel your heart clench. You swallow the lump in your throat. You hate this game.

The duke looks between you and Ghost, brows furrowed with silent understanding. He stands and bows quickly, before leaving. Likely going to tell your parents that you've thrown a fit. You're sure they won't be surprised.

#cod x reader #simon ghost riley #x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghoul speaks #knight!ghost #princess!reader #medieval au #it's only fun if it hurts just a bit

606 notes · View notes

ltghosty · 1 year

Text

Violation (Simon "Ghost" Riley ﾒ Female "Cobra" Sergeant)

A/N: Thank you for 25 followers and the love for my first fanfic, it means a lot :)

Summary: You disobey Ghost's order and go after Soap to help him finish Graves which leaves Riley furious.

Warnings: blood, curse, angst

Wordcount: 5.4k (got a little carried away, oops)

”You heard me,” Ghost replied dryly. ”You don’t have to work under my watch if you feel like obeying my orders would be too difficult for you.”

You would have never expected to come this far.

After a few years of being on the field, you lost count of how many times you played death.

Sometimes it terrified you how close you had come to falling out of the game.

There was a time you were counting with Soap, making a race of who had cheated death more times. But that was until Ghost ordered you two to stop it. He didn’t find close death calls that amusing, not even when trying to let his guard down a little.

Ghost also hated if someone disobeyed his orders. He was a lieutenant, after all, it was his job as a superior to send orders and come up with plans.

And it was your job to listen to him and obey without a question.

But it was quite a fury when your brain went to a battle against your heart.

In such a situation, what do you listen to? Your morality or your feelings?

After Price had fallen with his plane, you were about to go with Ghost to secure that site and help him.

When you heard Soap’s heavy cough on the radio while Graves was coming closer to him, you were hiding behind a wreck while Ghost was a few meters away.

You knew that this time was different.

Soap was dying, and Rodolfo was not answering his calls. Your heart missed a beat when realization sunk in.

As far as you were concerned, Ghost didn’t need you. He was an excellent fighter and shot after all, if anything, you would have only slowed him down.

You were good at your job but you couldn’t reach up to Ghost.

None of you could.

However, Ghost didn’t even want to hear about you returning to the training ground where Soap and Rodolfo had gone to.

”Cobra, you stay where you are.” Ghost’s voice was serious and impatient while he was trying to clear his path toward Price.

”Soap and Rodolfo are in trouble!” you beamed as the rain of bullets sieging your cover hasn’t come to an end yet.

Ghost turned his head in your direction, his eyes widening when he saw the determined look on your face.

”Cobra, do not leave my side, do you hear me?” Ghost raised his voice to overcome the loud snap of bullets.

You knew that Ghost would be fine if you left. Sometimes his lethal tactics made you feel like he was born with knives.

”I’ll have to help them.”

Ghost’s eyes were storming with his rage as you didn’t even try listening to him.

”Cobra, I won’t repeat myself.” Ghost was losing the little patience that has left in his body.

Realizing that he’d never give you a green light about your choice, you tightened your grip on your gun and made a run for it when Ghost turned away to shoot the enemies.

You heard him shout your name raucously in the distance when he realized that you were gone.

You almost stopped running by the firmness in his voice that made the hair on your arms stand.

He was mad, furious even and you knew that after the end of the day, he would not praise you if you succeeded.

Ghost hated if someone was disobeying him, you knew that, and still, even though it was the right thing to do, you felt guilty that you played him like that.

You’ve never crossed the line with Ghost, never.

You’d be lucky if he’d be able to trust you again.

When the explosion happened, you thought that the world was splitting for a second. The ground was shaking and even though you protected your head, several pieces of ruins have cut into your skin wherever they could.

It took more than a minute for your ears to start functioning again as Soap was coming over to you. He was just as dirty and bloody as you were.

”Cobra, are you with me?” Soap asked, kneeling down next to you with a wince.

Your face flinched as you took a piece of rock out of your face, feeling your blood fighting a way down your cheek through the dirt.

”I think so,” you whispered. Your head felt both empty and heavy at the same time.

The flames of the tank were dancing in Soap’s eyes as he studied you before sitting down with a groan.

Rodolfo joined you two with a frown on his face as he pressed his hand against his abdomen.

”Did I win this time?”

You narrowed your eyes. Soap’s humor didn’t know boundaries. The man has almost died and he still had enough energy to joke around.

”You wish, MacTavish.”

You shared a brief laugh with Soap at the absurdity of the situation.

Rodolfo leaned in with furrowed eyebrows, ”What’s so funny?”

You shook your head and wiped the blood off your face. You didn’t want to ruin Rudy’s innocent mind, he probably wasn’t the type to make fun of deadly situations anyway.

Probably because he was normal, you thought.

There was a moment when you thought that everything would end before the explosion. You’ve never been more scared or startled when you felt pure fear tightening your chest.

You’ve witnessed many deaths and explosions but this time was different. Knowing the person, serving with him, cracking jokes like real friends, who were about to kill you in a heartbeat was worse.

Betrayal was one of the things that left a bitter feeling inside you because your duty was built on trust and loyalty.

And without any of those, everything would fall apart.

Soap touched the radio on his chest, ”Soap to Ghost. I’m with Cobra and Rudy. Graves is KIA. How’s Price?”

There was only a beat of silence before Ghost’s voice could be heard.

”Angry. Lost a good cigar in the crash… Pilot’s okay too. Out.”

You shivered at the coldness in Ghost’s voice. After all, you would have expected him to be relieved that everyone made it but the distance he had put up was a clear sign of his annoyance toward you.

”Hey, everything all right?” Soap nudged your shoulder then hissed when pain stabbed through his arm.

”Ghost is really mad at me.”

This was the first time you pushed your luck with Ghost and considering that he was practically your boss, it scared you.

You knew that you did the right thing but your stomach turned into a knot at the thought of having to face Ghost in the next half hour.

”He’ll come around,” Soap said. ”You saved our lives.”

”Yes but he didn’t want me to come here at all. You should have seen him, he was furious.”

Soap sighed and pulled his knees to his chest before leaning his elbows on them.

”You did the right thing.”

But should doing the right thing make you feel this guilty and scared?

Taking your time, the three of you left the tank behind, facing the other part of the group.

Soap kept talking to you while you were helping him walk on the cement but your calmness left your body when you saw Ghost in the distance with Price.

When he looked at you for a brief moment, his eyes turned cold as he watched you approach.

”He’s probably mad because I’m alive,” Soap tried to brighten your mood with a joke and you let yourself smile a little.

”Nice try, Sergeant.”

It meant a lot to you that Soap tried to help you relax a little bit. You’ve been through one hell of a day after all.

Which could be only crowned with Ghost’s disappointment.

It didn’t take him much time to let his anger run through his veins once you’d come to a stop.

”Are you out of your fucking mind?!” Ghost asked.

His voice cut through you like a knife and you hated to see that you burnt down a bridge between you and him.

”Lt…” Soap started.

”I’m talking to Cobra, Sergeant.” Ghost snapped with venom in his voice.

”Thank you for sending her to us. We would have died without her.” Rodolfo spoke up after taking his skull mask off.

At first, you thought that Rudy was stepping on thin ice, lying to Ghost but also trying to make him understand that they needed you.

Ghost weighed Rudy’s words for a moment before his eyes found you again. You could see every possible hostile feeling flashing through them when you were only looking for relief.

”Yes, don’t be harsh on her, Lt.” Soap said and tightened his grip around you.

Ghost’s eyes dropped to Soap’s hand holding into your shoulder before he let out a deep breath.

You didn’t want the boys to take responsibility for your rushed actions, so you cleared your throat.

”Can I talk with Ghost?” You asked and Soap looked down at you. ”Alone.”

Rudy and Soap shared a knowing look before Soap withdrew his arm and let Rudy lead him away to Price who looked more than pissed about his wasted cigar.

Ghost was silent for a minute while the boys left the era. He had his arms crossed, his eyes were unreadable.

You waited for him to lash out and bring you down with words that he knew would leave a trail behind in your heart.

But Ghost didn’t say anything.

Even if he was still angry, he kept in himself while glaring into the distance, taking heavy breaths.

You watched his chest rise and sink a few times before you collected the strength you needed to speak up.

”I know what you want to say,” your voice was calm and vulnerable.

He took a sharp breath before he shook his head, still not looking at you.

”You have no idea what I want to say right now.”

Suddenly, he felt like a stranger which hurt your feelings because you’ve been through so much together that you wouldn’t have thought that saving his best friend would piss him off like that.

Perhaps, he didn’t have a problem with you saving Soap but how you’d completed that.

Ignoring his orders, not listening to him, or maintaining the danger that was waiting for you.

It would have ended in a way you wouldn’t have even thought about it.

”I had to go back for them. They needed help.”

Ghost snapped his head toward you, his eyes piercing through you.

”You disobeyed me, Cobra.” Ghost lowered his voice. ”You made it pretty clear back there that I’m not your lieutenant and that you are ready to run to your death once you have the opportunity.”

His words didn’t surprise you but that didn’t erase the pain they caused.

”That’s not true.”

”No?” Ghost echoed, his voice shifting for a second. ”Tell me then. Did you even think about what could happen?”

You didn’t say anything but still answered his question.

”Did you even stop to think that you’d end up dead? Just like that?” Ghost continued and your throat tightened.

He was right, and he knew that, that’s why he wasn’t giving you enough time to answer because he knew that you had nothing to say regarding your trepidity.

”I had to do something,” you said. ”There are times when you can’t stop to think things through because every second is important. Someone’s life could be on the line.”

”Because is it much better if it’s your life that will be on the line then?” Ghost leaned forward with a sinister glare.

”I have nothing to lose.”

Ghost’s eyes darkened a little hearing your answer.

”Do you really think that would be fucking fair with everyone? Watching you die just because you think you are nothing?”

Slowly, you realized where his anger was really coming from. He wasn’t only mad because you violated his order, but he also didn’t like the fact that you were underestimating yourself.

”There was no time, I had to do something.”

”What if all three of you died? Where would that get us?” Ghost asked sharply.

”But we didn’t.” You argued with no will to continue this confrontation.

”I’m a lieutenant, which means that you do as I say,” Ghost continued firmly. ”I don’t give orders just because I have nothing better to do. There is a reason for every decision I make.”

His words echoed in your head as you watched Soap give you a small encouraging smile. They had no idea how badly Ghost’s words have crushed you.

”Feel free to quit if you think you can’t work in a team.”

Your eyes widened and you turned back to him. You wished that you misheard him but the look in his eyes proved you otherwise.

”What?”

”You heard me,” Ghost replied dryly. ”You don’t have to work under my watch if you feel like obeying my orders would be too difficult for you.”

You never felt so hurt by simple words before. He had never been this cold toward you, in fact, after Graves’s betrayal, it seemed like he let you closer to him.

But now it felt like you fell back to the start where you were only strangers.

”Why are you making such a big deal about this?” You asked.

”Because you don’t value your life at all. And I don’t need soldiers who never think about themselves.”

It was ironic that he was saying that when deep down he felt the same. He always fought with the thought that he might not make it. But when it came to you, Ghost couldn’t bear the thought of you getting hurt, let alone getting killed.

He would be never able to forgive himself for that.

”You disobeyed yourself back then, you know,” you said as you hugged yourself and took a step back.

Ghost felt uneasiness in his heart at the sight of you putting distance between you two. And even though he knew that he hurt you, he wouldn’t take a word back. Because you overstepped a line when you disobeyed him.

”Me?”

You nodded, ”When you waited for Soap at the church. You always work alone and back there you didn’t even think to not help him survive the night.”

Ghost dropped his gaze to your hands, studying your bruises and fresh wounds with an intense stare.

”And now you are mad at me because I did the same?” You touched your throat, your words creeping into his mind, haunting him.

Ghost knew where you were coming from, that’s why he didn’t answer.

His eyes said it all.

”Fuck you, Simon.” You whispered, your voice almost breaking as you walked away from him. You didn’t want him to praise you because it wasn’t something he’d do. All you wanted him to do was understand why you ignored his orders.

”Cobra…” Ghost’s voice was calmer as he turned after you, watching you with soft eyes as you walked away from him.

----

Back at the base, everything seemed normal and fine.

Price made a toast as the task enjoyed their last time winning with honest smiles and shining eyes.

However, Ghost was nowhere to be seen or found.

It made you less uncomfortable now that you didn’t have to face him after the fight you just had before returning to the base.

You didn’t tell anyone what Ghost had said to you. You only let the others know that he wasn’t utterly happy that you disobeyed his orders.

”Where is Ghost?” asked Price after a few minutes now that everyone started eating and chatting with each other.

Your stomach stunk as you fixed your gaze, not daring to look at the captain.

”I don’t know,” Soap said. ”Probably celebrating alone.”

”Now that’s something he’d do.” Alejandro said with a small nod.

You were glad that neither Soap, Rodolfo, or Price had talked to you about Ghost. They knew that he was getting impatient with you but they knew that it wasn’t their business.

”Last time I saw him, he was on the roof,” Soap lowered his tone as he leaned close to your ear.

You furrowed your eyebrows.

”And?”

Soap gave you a side glance.

”You should go talk to him.” Soap advised and you immediately shook your head.

”I don’t think he wants to see me.”

Soap put his fork down and waited until you looked up at him.

”I know that it’s hard to believe but the only reason he lashed out at you is because he cares about you.”

You almost laughed hearing that weak excuse.

”Of course.”

”No, I’m serious.” Soap knotted his eyebrows together. ”He must have been worried about you. He probably cooled down anyway. You know that he is not the type to express himself very well.”

That doesn’t make the things he said right, you thought.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he’d want to see you now that everything was over.

You knew that you needed closure about the things that happened but you weren’t ready to face him. His cold glare kept haunting you during the flight.

Wouldn’t it be weird that after avoiding him for the rest of the day, you’d just show up suddenly?

You owned him an apology after all. Even though you helped Soap and Rudy, you had to disappoint Ghost.

His outburst was understandable because you had never done something like that before. Which left you wondering if he was willing to consider trusting you again.

You needed to put an end to this and maybe even switch teams if he wouldn’t want to work with you anymore.

”Okay, I’ll go find him.”

Soap gave you a proud smile as you stood up and walked out of the room, leaving the others to themselves.

You were fidgeting with your fingers as you were making your way up to the roof. The closer you got to the exit the more nervous you became.

Stopping in front of the hard metal door, you took a deep breath, trying to slow your heartbeat.

You opened the door, immediately seeing his familiar tall figure standing at the end of the roof with crossed arms and a stiff posture.

Your mouth went dry as you walked under the dark blue sky. The sun was slowly coming to a rest in the distance, leaving orange and pink shades behind.

”I told you I’m not hungry, Johnny.” Ghost’s voice cut through the soft wind that has awakened.

You sniffed before opening your mouth.

”What a shame,” you said. ”Price is not a bad cook at all.”

Ghost immediately turned around when he heard your voice. His eyes studied your fixed-up appearance and the bandages over you as you closed the distance.

His sleeves were rolled up, leaving his tattoos uncovered as his arms were crossed over his massive chest.

When you came to a stop next to him, he didn’t even try to hide that he was staring down at you with curiosity.

You expected him to order you to leave right away but seeing him surprised and silent was startling you.

”I’d rather cook for myself,” he continued. His voice was nowhere as cold and distant as it was when you two reunited after everything.

It made you feel a little less bad now that you knew that he wasn’t angry with you anymore.

You looked at the stars above you with admiring eyes while Ghost’s eyes didn’t leave your face for a second. It almost seemed like he was afraid that if he’d look away you’d vanish.

”It’s beautiful,” you said quietly, getting lost in the beauty of the stars. ”The sky.”

”Not only the sky,” Ghost said without thinking.

You bit into your lower lip as he continued to study you. You wished you could read his feelings because his silence was both pleasant and irritating at the same time.

”What are you doing here, Cobra?” Ghost asked.

You felt too exposed under his gaze, so you leaned on your elbows for support.

”Price misses you,” you answered gently. ”Everyone is celebrating.”

Ghost slowly shook his head and put grabbed the edge of the roof that stopped you from falling down.

”No, I mean… Why are you here?” Ghost asked, his deep voice pulling at your heartstrings.

When you looked into his eyes you saw nothing but honest confusion.

”Because I want to put an end to this,” you said and he looked away for a second.

”Put an end to this?” Ghost asked.

You wiped your hair out of your face, swallowing the lump in your throat. Suddenly, it was hard for you to breathe calmly.

You backed away from the edge and his eyes never stopped following you. Not even for a brief second.

Because Ghost’s mind was full of possible things that would happen now that you came after him.

He hated it to admit, but the most believable thing that crossed his mind was that you’d end up quitting for good.

Which was the last thing he wanted you to do.

Pain darkened his heart as he watched your uneasy movements. He knew you very well to realize that it was because you weren’t comfortable in his presence. And he wished he could do something to change that.

”Everything that happened back there…” you started in a small tone. ”It was pure chaos. But I guess that’s nothing new if someone betrays you…”

Ghost watched you with suspicious eyes, not daring to interrupt you.

It was surprising to see such a tall and big man being unsure in the presence of a fragile and vulnerable woman.

”I was unprofessional and panicked when I heard Soap on the radio,” you continued. ”I listened to my heart instead of listening to you. There is a reason that you became a lieutenant and not me, I know. I wasn’t thinking clearly because all I could think was that Soap and Rodolfo might die if we didn’t do something… It was out of line that I ran away and listened to myself. I owe you an apology because you are the one that makes decisions and orders, not me… I’m sorry.”

Your words burnt into Ghost’s mind while he slowly dropped his gaze to the ground. He hadn’t expected you to ever come up with an honest apology for what you just did.

He felt his muscles relax as you were waiting for his answer with big and sad eyes.

But he didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how to handle apologies.

You felt your heart sink as you took his silence in, fearing that your apology meant nothing to him.

”I’ll talk with Price in the morning,” you said in a defeated tone. ”I’ll tell him to replace me with someone else.”

Ghost’s grip tightened a little, ”Why would you do that?”

You dragged your nail over the corner of your lips.

”Because it will make things easier.”

”I don’t think it would.”

His answer confused you for a second, ”You told me it was better for me to just leave, so that’s what I’m going to do. You can’t allow someone in your team who doesn’t follow orders.”

Ghost swallowed as your eyes burnt his skin. Now that he knew why were you thinking that, he felt guilt pulling him down into an endless hole.

”I don’t want you to resign,” he said. ”I was mad and didn’t think before speaking. You are a good soldier and I trust you.”

You could feel your heart in your throat as he was letting you inside his head.

”I just wish that you trusted me,” he added and you pressed your lips into a thin line.

”I do.”

Ghost narrowed his eyes a little, ”I don’t think you did today.”

You knew that he had every right to doubt you after the shit you had pulled.

”I’m sorry,” you repeated.

Ghost frowned before sighing, ”Don’t apologize for helping Soap and Rodolfo. You did what you had to, not leaving your teammates behind, you were loyal.”

You would have never expected him to say those words and now that it hung in the air between you, you couldn’t help but let go of your guilt.

”I just lost my head when I saw that you weren’t with me in the next second,” Ghost said. ”I was worried sick while you were gone, that’s why I lashed out. We can’t lose you.”

I can’t, Ghost wanted to add but he thought he already talked enough.

”You hurt me, Simon,” you whispered, lowering your gaze.

Those four words broke Ghost’s heart, especially after hearing your sad voice. He hated that he caused you to doubt yourself for even a second.

He liked it when you called him his real name but not in a way like this. It felt like a thorn in his heart hearing how sad his name sounded from falling off your tongue.

Instead of saying anything, he reached out to you. His heart sank when he saw you hesitate whether you should take his hand or not.

It also reminded him of how quick you were to step away from him while you were arguing a few hours ago.

He didn’t want to be scary like his father but his presence didn’t make that easy for him. He was intimidating and emotionally unstable after all.

”I won’t hurt you. I would never do that.” Ghost said softly. ”I promise.”

You were the last person he wanted to scare and he was ready to do anything to prove you that.

You carefully placed your hand in his cold and large one, then held your breath when his fingers closed around you.

You let him slowly pull you toward him until your chests almost touched. You were never this close to him and just wished that he didn’t hear your crazy heartbeat.

What you didn’t know was that he was just as nervous as you were. He was familiar with physical closeness from his one-night stands but it was different with you. With someone whom he cared about.

”I shouldn’t have told you those things.” Ghost admitted shamefully.

”You were right,” you tried to defend his outburst even if the single memory of his words still cut you open.

Ghost looked down at your hand resting on his, briefly shaking his head.

”My job is to lead you and not guilt you,” he answered.

You tried to hide your sadness but it was hard to. You could still hear his anger-filled voice in your head after you helped Soap to safety.

”I understand your reaction,” you said, your heart beating fast in your ribcage. ”But that didn’t give you the right to talk to me the way you did.”

Ghost sighed and let go of your hand. You tried to ignore how much you started missing his touch as he withdrew, many thoughts clouding his head.

You watched in silence as he took a few steps back until he felt a chair in the back of his leg. Then, he sat down, his hand running up on the side of his balaclava.

”I know,” his voice was silent. Too silent.

You wanted to know what was going on with him but you didn’t want to push his buttons. You didn’t want to cross a line that would drag you down a hill.

It was enough once to have him raising his voice at you which was something he had never done before.

”If you don’t want to work with me just say it,” you nudged him, reminding him of his words. A part of you had a feeling that half of the things he had said to you were true even though you wished none of it were but as paranoia crept into your head, the darker your mind has become.

Ghost let out a breath and reached up, grabbing the top of his balaclava, and pulling it off his head with an abrupt move.

His face was agitated and troubled as he ran his fingers through his hair.

You remembered how it felt to see his face the first time, feeling extremely respected that he trusted you enough to take his mask off.

Something stirred inside you as you watched his uncovered face and you wished the circumstances were different.

”I don’t want you to go, Cobra,” his concerned eyes found you.

Shivers ran down your spine as you watched this troubled big man trying to reason with you almost desperately. You didn’t know why but it made you feel worse than the argument he had just started with you a few hours ago.

”Then stop saying things you don’t mean,” you advised but a little firmness hid in your voice. You didn’t want to give in that easily.

Ghost studied you carefully before reaching out for your cold hand. You didn’t push him away as he took a gentle hold of your arm and pulled you toward him. You didn’t dare breathe as the distance increased between you two. Then, without a warning sign, Ghost pulled you down and helped you sit on his lap.

You could feel your cheeks burn as you took a seat on his thighs, his right hand snuck around your waist while the other landed across your knees.

You were never this close or intimate with each other.

Ghost was a nervous wreck as he tried to steady his breath while making sure that his arms were holding you steady.

”I won’t, I promise,” he said in a soft tone that shook your heart for a moment.

You had never heard him being this gentle and careful with you, this whole situation was an unknown and dangerous territory to you. And you hated how unpredictable he was.

”You scared me today,” he admitted, his hot breath touching your cheeks.

You dropped your gaze shamefully to his tattooed hand resting on your knees. Everything was so chaotic that you didn’t even stop to think about how your action would affect Ghost.

Ghost leaned closer and lifted your jaw then turned your head back to his slowly. You had no choice but to let him and when your eyes locked, you felt the back of your throat tighten.

His worry was as clear as water in his eyes, his sadness took hold of your heart, not letting it go.

”I’m sorry, Simon,” you said, his name softly leaving your lips.

His eyes cleared for a moment as your words were floating in the air between you before he dropped his forehead to yours.

You instantly closed your eyes and so did he as your heads softly touched.

”Just… promise me that you’ll never do anything like that ever again…” he begged softly. ”I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you.”

You felt your lips quiver a little at the pain dripping from his tone. He was the last person you expected to be worried for you. Over the years he wasn’t that open regarding his feelings and now that you broke through his walls, you didn’t know how to react.

You didn’t want to scare him but also didn’t want to make him think that he meant nothing to you.

”I won’t do anything like that ever again,” you whispered, using his words, then he let out a relieved sigh. ”I didn’t want to scare you.”

Ghost pressed his lips together, a frown taking over his face.

”When will you finally see how much you mean to me?”

His words felt like a knife through your heart. It warmed you to realize that you were so close to him that he wouldn’t want to lose you but you knew that feelings always made things complicated.

You tried to ensure him by softly pushing at his chest, causing him to open his eyes, however, he still didn’t move his head away from yours and neither did you.

”Careful with feelings, Lt…” you gave him a small smile. ”They make things complicated.”

Ghost’s eyes shined with amusement as he watched you with admiration. He really was lucky that nothing had happened to you.

”Something tells me that I’m already doomed.”

He pulled his head away an inch, then lifted it until his lips were able to connect with your forehead. Your heart almost jumped out of your chest as he left a long and tender kiss on your forehead without the slightest worry in the world.

You enjoyed the soft touch of his lips as long as you could before he pulled away, his hands still holding you close to him. There was something vibrating between your bodies and you wondered if he could feel it too.

”This is a dangerous game, Simon.”

Despite your warning words, you earned an honest but small smile from the scariest and toughest soldier you’ve ever met.

”I'll risk it all then."

1K notes · View notes

asterias-record-shop · 1 year

Note

Bingo Enemies to Lovers Ethan Landry prompt 3.

Ethan and the reader have a bickering match every time the group is together. Mostly because he has a crush on her and in boy fashion he teases her instead of acting in his feeling but she’s not one to bite her tongue so they go back and forth. Anywho, he decides he’s going to do something more drastic and scare (or potentially kill. Wherever you want to take it honestly) her. But when he’s chasing her with the knife and he gets her he just can’t do it. She’s like pleading and he gets off on it. He doesn’t do anything at the moment. He leaves and the next couple of times they all hang out he’s more teasing than just arguing, trying to get her back to herself because she’s shaken up. He goes to her house to “check up” on her because she’s been less punchy lately. (In my head she can’t really tell her friends about the ghost face chase thing because they suspect her since she got away unharmed. So when he checks on her she just feels like he sees her and takes comfort in him.) she’s a bit vulnerable so she’s guarded at first. Prompt 3 around here I think. Ethan still either a virgin or has very little experience. I love his nerdy side in the movie. Wheew i nearly wrote it for you. I just want to see how you’d expand it. Love your work. Idk if this can fit in one part but I’d love to read how ever many this turns out to be ❤️

—𓆩[movie night]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Ethan Landry x Fem! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - smut, fluff, angst maybe?

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 3.7K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - Ethan had a school boy crush on you - it was the best way to explain how he felt about you. He loved the nights of bickering during movie nights, but when he gets told that he needs to kill you because you’re going to get in the way, he can’t. You get shaken up and aren’t your normal self so he goes to check on you, and one thing leads to something he truly didn’t expect to happen.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - cursing and foul language || fighting & teasing || attempted murder || slight dubcon(?) || Ethan pussies out || banter is his love language but it’s a bad love language || Dacryphilia || blood kink || blood eating || kind of mean/dom! reader || Ethan is a munch || unprotected sex || multiple orgasms || oral || face riding || creampie || definitely a breeding kink || size kink || SPIT ||

“It’s not me who’ll be dying a virgin.”

Those words wouldn’t have hurt him that much if they weren’t so true. He hated the fact that you had sex with men that weren’t him, good sex obviously from the way Tara always raved about how you and your nightly partner never let her sleep.

“Well… I think that’s it for movie night,” Chad had said as everyone stood up together. “Have a goodnight guys!”

You quickly stand, grabbing your bag and muttering things. “Tara, are you coming with me or are you staying?”

Tara nods, but then shakes her head. “I-I’m going to stay, if you don’t really mind?”

You smiled as you held up your bag. “No, I don’t mind. Got my buddy in here, I’ll see you later!”

You start to walk out, ignoring the buddy rule you and your friends had because at this point, you were truly going to snap and maybe murder one of them. Not in a Ghostface mask though.

You quickly went down the steps of the dorm, humming as you bounced on the sidewalk. As frustrated as you were with Ethan, you really needed to get back into your more happy mindset so your dog Cocoa would know you’re upset because dogs are basically superhuman.

You paused when you heard something clatter behind you, turning around in fear with a deep inhale. Almost on cue, a dark black cat jumped out from the alleyway making you sigh loudly, basically releasing a bit of the tension in your body before you turned back around and kept walking.

You didn’t feel it though, the release of fear, anxiety pooling at the pit of your flipping stomach. You inhaled shakily as you dug through your purse, gasping as you were pushed into an alleyway.

You screamed out, gasping as they forced you to turn around, the white mask making your heart stop. You could feel your knees go weak before they pushed a knee between your legs and pushed it upwards. “N-No, please don’t-”

You could hear him shush you, his gloved hand pressing to the lips of the mask as you looked away, whimpering when a knife pressed against your cheek. He pushed you to the side, forcing you to look at him as you tried to shake your head.

Ethan grinned under the mask, the sight of you whimpering and starting to sob from his blade, threatening to slice you up whenever he wanted. He inhaled deeply as you started to shake your head, his hand shaking against your jaw.

“Please… please don’t do this. Don’t do this, I’ll do whatever you want.”

Oh, whatever he wanted? The thought was appealing, the ability to just cut off all of your clothes, watch you crumble to your knees and force your mouth onto his cock to beg him not to kill you.

He inhaled deeply, attempting to press the blade harder into your skin but your tears made it slide. He flinched when it nipped at your skin, drawing the crimson liquid. He felt his eyes roll back as you sobbed loudly, his hand quickly going to your mouth, muffling your sounds.

You sobbed even louder, finally trying to fight against him before his knee pressed firmly into your pussy and a loud gasp falling from your lips.

“You better behave.” He growled out, his hand tightening around the hilt of the blade and pressing harder into your skin. “Behave!”

You sobbed loudly, shaky hands tugging on the black fabric of his robe. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll do anything you want me to, I promise! Please, please just don’t hurt me.”

He pressed it deeper into your skin, hand tightening around your mouth as he leaned forward. He ducked under the mask, being careful that you didn’t see him as he licked along your cheek, collecting your tears before dragging the tip of his tongue down to the nip he made, sucking on it to collect all the blood from the small cut.

You sobbed even harder as the knife slowly pushed into your collar bone, leaning close to your ear before forcing his voice deeper. “You tell anyone about this, I’ll come back and fuck you with the hilt of my knife, then I’ll kill you with a slit to your throat. You understand me?”

“Yes! Yes, I understand, I understand! I’m sorry!” You sobbed even harder but Ethan could hear voices and footsteps, quickly shushing you. “Kiss me. Kiss me and I won’t kill you.”

Quickly, you leaned up and pressed your lips to his as his hands caught both of your wrists before you could continue slamming your fists to his chest. He groans loudly into your mouth, knee shaking unconsciously making moans leave your mouth as you dig your nails into your palms.

“Just some horny kids. Get a damn room!”

They walked away, Ethan still not pulling back before your teeth tug on his lip hard enough to draw blood. He hissed loudly as he pulled away, laughing as he quickly pulled down his mask. Pressing the blade against your cheek, he tilts his head. “You’re mine, you got that? You belong… to me. Do you understand that? Don’t make me give you a real scar for you to understand that.”

You whined, eyes watering as your head bobbing. No tears were coming from your eyes, there was none left as he started to back away. “Don’t tell anyone, or I’ll come back!”

You weren’t the same. You never left game nights alone, you never argued with Ethan, you just sat there. Your hands were shaking, eyes darting everywhere every moment in time.

Tonight’s movie was It, a horror film Ethan didn’t really care for. In fact, no one really was keen on scary movies, but they wanted a bit of a change. You sat down next to Ethan, hugging a pillow tightly against your chest as he smirks down at you.

“If you get scared, you can hold my hand.”

You don’t respond, your hand quickly pushing into his, shaky fingers and sweaty palms tightly wrapped around his own hand as you inhale shakily. He looked over, raising a brow, but it made sense that you were so scared. He liked it, the thought of the fact that he scared you this much that you’re falling right into his arms.

“Y/N? You alright?” He whispers as you look up at him, gasping when you see the cut on his lip.

“Wh-What is that? On your lip?”

He felt panic settle in as he self consciously licked his lips, humming with a shake of his head. “I was sealing a letter for class,” he laughs awkwardly, shaking his head. “It was… it was stupid, I started bleeding all over the place. But you… you don’t seem okay.”

He was the first to notice, and oh did it make your heart swell and skip a few beats. Your other hand finds his as you lean into his chest, shakily exhaling a breath as he pulls you closer. “I’m not.”

Ethan smiled into your hair before standing up, everyone else easily falling asleep during the movie after surviving through a real life horror film. “Do you want to come to my room? Or go to your house?”

In all honesty, nothing sounded better than going to his room and being fucked so hard that you couldn’t even remember that night. Except, maybe, going to your apartment where you could get railed so hard you wouldn’t remember anything either. Besides, not everyone had to hear you begging for another round when Ethan would surely pass out after seeing your pussy.

“Can we go to my house?”

Ethan nods quickly, hiding his smile as he pulls you out of the apartment after you grab your bag. You held his hand tightly, jumping at every small sound before you both got to the street of your apartment and a black figure made you stop in your tracks.

A whimper fell from your mouth as Ethan rolled his eyes, of fucking course his sister wanted to get rid of you tonight. But, it’ll work in his favor anyway. “Y/N, get to your apartment.”

“What?” It was like you were frozen, your hands gripping his as Quinn starts to make her way toward the both of you and he starts to push you up the stairs.

“Go!”

You do as he said, quickly running up the stairs while calling 911, Quinn quickly stopping in front of Ethan. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“I’m about to get fucking laid!”

Quinn pauses, taking off her mask. “So that’s why you couldn’t kill her? Because you’re pussy whipped?!”

“Would you shut up?!” Ethan groaned, straightening when he heard sirens coming. “You need to go, but do something so that it looks real.”

“I have no arguing with that, you pussy whipped mother fucker.”

It was just a small cut on his collarbone because Quinn would probably feel bad about it later, but after quick interviews with the police and your hands holding his tightly, it was almost done.

“Can we go now? Don’t you see that he’s injured?” You asked the barraging officers who sigh heavily.

“Is there really nothing else you can think of?”

“No, nothing,” Ethan says, inhaling sharply. “I don’t feel good, though, I want to leave.”

“The paramedics offered to take you to the hospital-”

“For a few stitches?” You scoffed. “I’m a med student, I can get that done here. We’re leaving.”

You were quick to pull him up the stairs and unlock your apartment door, pushing him down onto the couch. “Take off your shirt.”

He was quick to obey, taking off his shirt as you go to the restroom and bring out a large container of what seemed to be medical supplies. “Is it deep? Can you tell?” He looks down, attempting to stare at his collarbone making you giggle. “Not what I meant, honey.”

His cheeks get hot as you kneeled down in front of him between his legs, getting a good view of the cut before taking out a large wrapped gauze. “It’s not too deep, doesn’t need stitches. Let me just clean it up.”

“Y/N.”

“I mean, unless you want stitches I could probably-”

“Y/N.” You looked up, Ethan smiling down at you as he slowly pushed his hand through your hair, pushing it out of your hair. “Don’t worry about me. What’s wrong with you?”

You inhaled shakily as he smiled down at you, his perfect shining smile as you shook your head. “D-Don’t worry about it-”

“Y/N, I’m worried about you,” he says, shaking his head. “I want to know what is going on. You know that I’ll protect you.”

You stared up at him as you finished putting on the gauze, pushing your hands onto his bare shoulders and sitting in his lap. He swallowed as you hugged him tightly, inhaling shakily. “Promise?”

Ethan hugged you back tightly, nodding into your neck. “I won’t let anything happen to you, ever.”

It was a promise and he meant it. You pulled away with a smile, pushing back his hair. “Thank you, Ethan.”

He hummed, nodding as he leans into your touch with closed eyes, exhaling deeply. “I’ll do anything for you.”

“Oh yeah? We’ve gone from arguments to this, darling?” You teased him, curling your fingers in his hair as he nodded.

“Always wanted to be like this with you, just didn’t know how to.” He mumbles into your neck, Ethan’s hands pushing into your shirt as he tugged softly. “C-Can I take it off?”

You hummed, nodding before the words rang back in your head. You inhaled shakily, and it was as though Ethan knew what you were thinking. “Y/N, I promise, I’ll do anything… anything to protect you.”

You nodded, raising your arms so that he could pull off your shirt. His mouth pressed wet, open mouthed kisses to your skin, sucking and biting against your skin as you inhaled sharply, humming. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?”

He pauses, smiling up at you. “I’m doing good then?”

“Well, you’re kissing really nice.” He laughed as he stood, going down the hall and attempting to open the door. “One more down!”

He quickly moved down again, opening the door before setting you on the bed. He watched as you quickly repositioned yourself, legs wide as you started stripping easily. Ethan quickly followed, his dick slapping against his lower stomach as he starts to crawl onto the bed before you press your foot onto his chest.

“You need to behave, Landry.”

“Behave? Baby, you don’t like it when I behave.”

You laugh as you let your leg fall against the bed, legs spread widely with a brow raised. “Well then, don’t. But you better be good at misbehaving, Ethan.”

He swallowed as you pushed him down so that his face was hovering over your pussy, your clenching cunt that was basically dripping with arousal. “Y-Y/N, I’ve never… I’ve never done this before.”

You tilted your head down at him. “You’ve never eaten someone out before?” You knew he was a virgin, but this much of a virgin?

He shook his head, making you giggle. “I-I can… I can try.”

“You’ve never seen a porno where the guy eats the girl out? Come on baby, I know you have.” You stroke his cheek before pulling him closer, dragging your thumb along your lips. “Or do you want me to do the work and you just take it? You seem like someone who’d like doing that.”

He swallowed as you raised a brow.

“Well, are you going to answer me?”

“I’ll sit back and take it, Y/N,” he leaned forward to lick a firm line against your aching cunt. “I’ll take everything you give me.”

You giggle as you help him lay back against the pillows, humming as you hovered over his face. “You’re going to lull out your tongue for me,” you say, watching as he does as you say with the slight tilt back of his head. “And then…” you move your body so that you could kiss him, sloppy and wet to make his mouth filled with your spit before pulling away. You giggle, kissing his nose before hovering over his mouth.

“You can use your fingers too. I’ll tell you if you’re too rough.”

He nodded, moving his hands to slowly press and rub against your cunt and clit, humming. “Y-You’re not going to sit down?”

You paused, giggling. “Are you… are you sure? I don’t… I don’t-”

He inhaled, shaking his head. “Y/N, darling, I might be a virgin, but I’m not a pussy. Sit down before I do it myself.”

You hummed, raising a brow. “Do what yourself?”

His hands go to your hips, forcing you down into his mouth as he lulled out his tongue. You gasped as he forced you to roll your hips into his mouth, eyes rolling back as you slowly humped against his face. You groaned out as one of his thumbs rubbed circles against your clit as his pointer finger slowly rubbed against your entrance, his tongue flickering and lapping.

You groaned loudly as you held onto the top of the bed frame, whining as you tried to go faster. It almost reminded you of humping your pillow when the thought of a dildo repulsed you, even this time riding his face was definitely better than that. You whimpered above him, throwing your head back. It was mind blurring, pleasure filling your body and making sparks run up your spine and your stomach twist.

You whimpered as he slowly pushed a finger into you, his other hand steadying your hips from shaking as you continued to thrust into his mouth.

He pushed another finger into you, his tongue pushing inside of you with another finger. His tongue laps and sucks against your clit, spit and your slick rubbing against his chin and around his mouth as he forces you to press lower against his mouth before giving a firm slap to your ass.

You yelped, releasing your weight onto him, making him pull you down closer and his teeth graze your clit. Your eyes rolled back as he lifted his head, attempting to get as close as he could to your cunt making a loud whine leave your lips.

Ethan couldn’t stop, not when your pussy was so fucking addicting. That’s probably what made you cum going on four times on his tongue, hips shaking as he forced you to stay on his tongue. His fingers didn’t stop thrusting into you, tongue flicking against your swollen clit as your eyes rolled back, tears falling down your cheeks. Your stomach was burning as Ethan humped the air, the hand on your hip leaving bruises against your skin.

“Ethan, Ethan! Ethan, please!” You were whimpering above him, imprints from the wood in your skin as he pulled away, his nose brushing against your clit before he pulled away.

“What? Do I stop? Am I not doing good?” He asked immediately, almost worried before you laughed, thighs shaking as you started to lift yourself up.

“Ethan, you’ve made me cum almost four times, and you think you’re doing bad?” You quickly flop onto your back, humming as you spread your shaky thighs. “Let’s see if you know how to make your dick work like your tongue.”

He gulped, taking his hand across his mouth to gather the wetness before looking down at his cock, cum dripping out of the tip. You looked down, letting out a soft giggle. “You came from eating me out?”

He smiled. “How could I not when your pussy is that fucking good?”

His words make you blush as he kneeled down in front of you, humming as he pressed his tip slowly into your entrance. Your eyes rolled back, whimpering from overstimulation as he rubbed his head up and down your slit. “Hm, when you want to be, you can be good.”

You gasped as he pushed into you, whining loudly as your hands held his shoulders before he bottomed out with a quick thrust. You were basically knocked out of breath, gasping for air as he leaned down to press a firm kiss to your lips. “Behave, my love, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You nodded, immediately arching your back as he started to push into you, head thrown back. “F-Fuck, I’m going to cum just like this, fucking hell Y/N. Y-You’re still so hot and w-warm, holy fuck!”

Your eyes rolled back, legs wrapping around his waist as you pulled him down. “Holy fuck, are you sure you’re a virgin?” You whimpered into his ear, letting out a soft giggle as he laughed breathlessly.

“Guess it’s good that you’re asking that, right? I’m fucking you good?” He grunted, groaning loudly as his hips snapped forward, thrusts sloppy and rough.

“E-Ethan, stop,” you whimper, shaking your head. “We got time, baby, don’t rush it.”

“W-Was that not good? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles before you shake your head, pushing back his hair.

“You don’t need to go rough right off the bat, ease into it,” you shakily roll your hips, moaning. “G-Go slow… then get faster.”

He whimpered, nodding. “B-But, what if it’s not enough? I-I want… I want more.”

You hummed, rolling your hips up into his own. “You can get faster, but don’t be sloppy, it hurts.”

He nodded, holding your hips, getting faster as he whined. The thrusts made your eyes roll back, mouth falling open as he kissed against your neck, whimpering. “Fuck, fuck! Fuck, it’s so good, your pussy is so perfect. A-Am I doing good, am I making you feel good? Fuck baby, I feel so fucking good, your pussy feels so good around me.”

You gasped, nails scratching down his back. “Yes, yes! Yes, I feel so good, fuck, I’m close! I’m close, Ethan!”

He grunted, his thrusts getting rougher in a way that wasn’t painful as he lifted up your hips to hit a whole new place inside of you that made your eyes roll back and a loud scream fall from your lips. Your mind blurred, vision going dark as he moaned loudly into your neck, gasping for air as his eyes rolled back.

You could feel his cum spurt inside of you, filling you up in the deepest spots inside of you before he pulled back a bit to watch your tummy start to bulge. He rubbed against your tummy, sitting back on his knees. “Can I go again?”

You laughed, nodding. “Yes, you can.”

He leaned down, pressing his lips against your neck before whispering, “I’m going to protect you with everything I have. No one will ever touch you, no one will ever take you from me baby.”

You whimpered, nodding against his neck. “Promise?”

“I promise.” And he will hold that until his death bed.

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asumofwords · 7 months

Note

So I see you’re going to open up requests soon??? 👀

Lemme just put this one there to marinate because some of the asks have really put the thought in my head with no sign of it leaving me be.

Spooky season is coming!!!!

I rewatch the Haunting series on Netflix every October so I’m kinda feeling a Bly Manor type possession fic. SFA one shot or not, but Aemond’s dead and they were definitely in love. When reader moves on after his death and eventually meets someone she can fall in love with again, maybe she brings him home and Aemond possesses her new man just so he can fuck her again. Bonus points if she doesn’t know the first few times but keeps wondering how her new boo knows exactly what she likes before Aemond finally reveals himself and ultimately, she lets it continue because she gets her Aemond again.

Just some thots

Word Count: 8.6k

Warnings: Death, murder, sadness, depression, thoughts of suicide, talks of blood and gore, moving on, haunted estate, possession, fear, anger, smut, chasing, blood, choking, slapping, fucking, creampie, degradation, rough sex, angry sex, dub-con, slight non-con, confusion, grief, Cregan being possessed by your late husband, spooky vibes.

Pairings: Ghost!Aemond x Reader / Aemond Targaryen Possession Fic, Cregan Stark x Reader, Possessed!Cregan x reader

Notes: Look.... I'm such a Cregan Stark slut, I'm gonna throw him in wherever I can... Hope you enjoy!!!! Hehehe, I hope I have done your request some justice!!! I really enjoyed writing this <3

Aemond Targaryen was a man that could not be summarised by mere words. You didn’t believe that you could ever find enough of them to describe him, if any could come close to it. He was kind, quiet at times, calculating, but passionate. And that was why you had married him. His passion for you was so strong it almost burnt, the flames of it constantly flickering over you like fire.

You had been married for some time, meeting at University, Advanced History and the Politics of Old, and instantly falling for the quiet man who had sat up the back, hand constantly writing notes on paper. He had this charm that surrounded him, and the day you had gotten the courage to ask him out, pacing in front of your mirror all morning, practising the words over and over in your head and aloud, he beat you to it, seemingly having done the same thing.

You were married a year later, a quick turn around, but happy with bliss and the love that you had for each other. Years flew by together and eventually you began to plan for a child, and Aemond in his excitement, invited his family over to announce this to them. His mother, unbeknownst to him, invited his half-sister Rhaenyra, her children, and her husband, Daemon; A man Aemond had once admired, but now despised.

And because of this, tragedy struck.

At first the evening went well, but with the presence of his nephew, Lucerys, the boy who had taken his eye in an accident at a young age, Aemond’s anger simmered that night between him and his uncle, Daemon, and with the alcohol that flowed heavily from the table during your celebrations, a fight broke loose.

You could still see it. Still see it move behind your eyelids like a film, slow motion, then quick, then slow again.

Aemond’s fist flying into Daemon’s cheek, a man much taller and broader than your husband. You had shot up from your chair to reach them, but Alicent had held you back whilst Rhaenyra tried to pull her husband away from her half-brother, who Daemon knelt over, fist after fist striking the younger mans face. You had screamed when Daemon was finally pulled up and away by his angry wife, concern thrown down to her estranged sibling, her violet eyes roaming him for injury.

But your Aemond, your sweet, sweet Aemond, head strong and stubborn as he was, didn’t know when to stop, and so, jumping up from the ground, face bloodied and lips bleeding, Aemond’s hand had snatched a steak knife from the table, charging for Daemon, who pushed Rhaenyra out of the way.

The next thing you knew, Aemond lay lifeless on the floor, knife in his unseeing eye, blood pooling on the floor around him. You had screamed and ran to him, sobbing over his corpse as Daemon stood in shock, looking at his now bloodied hand whilst Alicent blinked down at her son.

Daemon went to jail, a short term for murdering your husband, self defence they had said, since Aemond made the first move and grabbed the knife. And whilst Daemon sat in a cell, visited by his children and wife, you were left alone in the large estate that you had together, bereft with grief and uncertain if life would ever move on without him.

You had thought about it, once or twice, grabbing a razor or taking one too many of the pills the doctors had prescribed for your debilitating depression, or perhaps reaching beneath the sink to grasp at Aemond’s old pain medication and taking the entire lot. But each time you thought of it, you just couldn’t do it. Too cowardly to go forward with it, which almost always ended with you on the floor where he had died, sobbing into the flagstones.

It had been five years when you met him, five years when you decided to get back out into the world. Or not really decided, more like forced to by Helaena, Aemond’s older sister, who had been your life boat through grieving the loss of her brother. She had told you that Jacaerys, her nephew she had no qualms with despite the family tension, had a friend that you would get along with. Someone kind and gentle, and so far away from being anything like Aemond, that it was a safe bet.

And so one night of a blind date with Cregan Stark, Helaena and her girlfriend Cassandra joining as a buffer, turned into two, which then turned to three, then four, until soon enough, you were falling for the man.

He was courteous. Tall and broad, with long, dark hair and a short beard, or more like stubble that had been left untouched for days on end. He had kind grey eyes, that looked like a winters storm that swirled each time he gazed at you.

And he was different. That’s what you likened as to why you liked him.

He was the complete opposite of Aemond.

Where Aemond was fiery and warm, Cregan was cool and patient, always waiting for you to make the first step. Whenever you would fight, if at all you would manage to get him to react, it would always end with him apologising to you.

Even when you were in the wrong.

That was one thing you hated about it.

He would never rise to your goading, never rise to the bait you would set for him to flare his temper. Sure, he would get angry, his wild grey eyes alight with something, but it would pass as soon as a storm, and he would leave to walk it out, or ask for space.

You missed how it had been with Aemond. How you could goad him into anger, to have him fold you over any surface and have his way with you, rutting into you violently and cruelly, as he ripped peak, after peak from you, until you begged for mercy, tears falling down your cheeks.

But Cregan was different, softer, sweeter, and not at all like your hot headed late husband.

And this, you were thankful for.

In some ways at least.

It had been over a year of dating when you finally asked him to move into the estate with you. He lived awhile away, and you were alone in a house that had close to a hundred rooms and only memories to haunt you. It only felt right to fill it up with one more person.

The estate was old, and although Aemond had died within its walls, you just couldn’t leave it.

You were stuck.

Feeling drawn to its stones and halls, and even the mere thought of parting with it made you breathless.

Though, there was something about the old estate that made your skin crawl.

It had always made you uncomfortable, and it was something that you had voiced to Aemond upon many a times, and he would always assure you, that they could not touch you, whoever they were.

But something was different.

Something had changed in the years past since Aemond had died.

Helaena had once come to the estate, months after the fact, and gone pale, looked right past you as though she was looking at someone there. But when you had turned, there was no-one. Not a soul, or wisp, or a particle. Just air.

But it was cold. And Helaena had told you, whilst staring behind, that Aemond would always be with you.

But you knew he would. You had his memories, his photos, his clothes that you had folded in trunks in the attic, or the blanket that still smelt very much like him that you would curl into on lonely nights and breathe in his scent.

Of course he would always be with you.

He was your first love.

But there was something about the estate.

You just didn’t know what.

It didn’t help that no matter what you did, you felt like you were being watched. But the building was as old as the hills, and your therapist had told you it was likely just your hyper observance and PTSD to blame.

There were no ghosts in the house, no ghouls or monsters. It was just you.

You and the empty walls, and halls that used to house his voice, and his smile, and his laughter.

You were lonely, that much was sure, and although you loved Cregan, you truly did, it would just never match the love you and Aemond had. Not that you were comparing the two to each other in that way. Aemond was fire, Cregan was ice. They were both two very different people who loved in two very different ways. And you knew, much to your grief, that it was time to move on.

Time to move forward with your life.

And so you did. With Cregan. And that feeling of being watched only amplified. The feeling of heat on the back of you neck, being watched wherever you went, multiplying by tenfold with Cregan’s now permanent presence.

The rooms would suddenly get cold, to the point that he had even noted it, but had explained it away; His home back in Winterfell was older than this estate, and it too had cold spots in it.

It didn’t mean anything, it was just the old buildings, with old drafts, and terrible old insulation.

But something felt off since he moved in.

You always felt like you were being watched but it had changed to something more angry. Like something was always in the corner of your eye when with him, especially when intimate. But Cregan, with this kind eyes and unbendable patience, listened to your worries, and ensured you that it was fine, and even if there was an entity in the estate, it could not touch you, nor harm you, and probably didn’t even know you were there, lost in a world of its own.

Yet, you still couldn’t shake the feeling of it. Maybe it was because you were moving on, and feeling guilty about doing so.

You didn’t move into your old room that had been yours and Aemond’s. That was off limits. Closed for good, unless you wished to go in there and sit for a while. It had been over six years, six long years without him, but maybe, just maybe, Aemond would want you to move on.

Yes, you were sure of it.

He would want you to be happy, to move on. Not forget about him, but to continue on with your life without him, despite the feeling that your life had stopped with him the day he was killed.

You still had night terrors about it, picturing his body on the floor, lifeless and cold, blood pooled beneath his head, seeing eye staring up unfocused.

The terrors had gotten worse when Cregan had moved in. You would wake with a scream, and the vision and smell of blood before you, body covered in a light sheen of sweat, and the feeling as though something, or someone, had be pushing down on your chest. And each time, Cregan would be there for you, to ground you, to bring you back to the present and hold you as you sobbed in his arms, and eventually went back to sleep, skin tingling with the feeling of an extra eye on you.

But Cregan made you feel safe.

There were many things about Cregan that you adored. His loyalty to his friends and family, his smile when excited or pleased, the way he would hold you tightly against his chest, head tucked beneath his chin as you inhaled deeply.

And to top it all off, he was an amazing lover.

Sleeping with Cregan was different to what it had been like with Aemond. He was gentler, softer, less rough and violent. Which was something you actually missed. When once you had asked Cregan to wrap his large hands around your throat, he had blushed and looked away, saying he needed time to work his way up to that. And so you dropped it, and respected that boundary.

It wasn’t that the sex wasn’t good, it was. Cregan knew how to bring you to your peak with practised skill. It was just that it wasn’t what you needed. You needed a release. A cathartic bloom of pleasurable pain, submission and dominance, to not be in control, to let someone take the reins and bring you to a warm and fuzzy place that Aemond called ‘Sub Space’. You needed to feel the ache of being roughly handled, to see the bruises of Cregan’s love on your skin the next day or week after, but he was almost afraid of hurting you.

Gods bless that sweet man.

Footsteps clumped from down the hall as the tv softly played the previews of a new show on Netflix. You leant back against the couch, tucked under a thick blanket as you watched Cregan enter the lounge room with two bowls in hand.

“What are we watching?” His deep voice curled around the room, eyes darting to the tv as you scrolled down, trying to find something the two of you could watch.

“I don’t know.” You flicked to the Recommended For You section, the couch dipping beside you as he sat, placing the steaming bowls of pasta in front of you, “Thanks.” You pecked his cheek lightly, before looking back at the screen.

“What are our options?” His fork clinked on the edge of his bowl as he twirled the long pasta up his fork, shoving it into his mouth beside you.

“Pride and Prejudice-“

“-2005 or BBC?” Cregan interrupted.

“2005 obviously.” You smirked, turning back to the tv, “Jurassic Park, Knives Out,” You flicked through the recommendation list, hearing a snicker beside you as you moved past 365 Days, “Gone Girl-“

“Gone Girl? What’s that?” Cregan asked between chews, large hand reaching to place your own bowl into your lap.

You grinned, “Only one of the best movies ever. Have you really not seen it?” You turned to face him, watching as he shook his head. “Gone Girl it is.”

The movie began to play as you settled in at his side, eating the dinner he had made you both. Cregan was engrossed in the film, and made you laugh as he screamed profanity at the tv, already hating Ben Affleck's character thinking he had killed his wife.

Towards the end of the movie however, Cregan was cheering Amy on, getting excited as it went through her step by step revenge plan. You were almost at the crescendo of the film when you felt Cregan shift beside you, his audible stream of consciousness suddenly stopped.

You turned your head to look at him.

The large man was sitting stiff as a board beside you, grey eyes narrowed onto your face. It was as if all emotions had slid away, leaving a cool exterior. You frowned, turning your body to face him completely, watching as his eyes slid carefully over your body.

“Are you okay?” You asked, wondering what had changed his mood so suddenly.

Cregan’s eyes blinked slowly, lids half hooded as he peered at you.

There was something about it that was familiar.

Something about it that sent a shiver down your spine.

And as if it didn’t happen, Cregan blinked again, shaking his head slightly, large hand coming to press at an eye as though in pain.

Your hand reached out to rest on his shoulder, “Hey, are you okay?” Concern written on your features.

Brows furrowed, he winced, pressing the heel of his hand into his eye, “Sorry.” He apologised through gritted teeth, “Migraine came out of nowhere.”

Sympathy rolled through you. Standing from the couch you clicked your tongue, “That’s no good. Let me get you some pain killers.”

Your bare feet pressed into the cold flagstones as you headed to the large kitchen, bending at the waist to rifle in the small medicine box under the sink.

The box was old, something left over from Aemond, with the painkillers still inside that he used for whenever his eye and scar was giving him bother. You spotted the small silver packet of pain killers beside Aemond’s old ones, out of date and not useful to anyone, and yet you still could never bring yourself to get rid of them, as though your brain worried that they would be needed out of habit despite him no longer being there anymore.

Bypassing your late husbands medication, you pulled at the small packet of regular painkillers and made your way back to the lounge room, worrying over Cregan’s sudden pain.

He never usually had migraines or headaches, but it had become something more frequent since he moved in. His doctor had said it could be allergies, or perhaps even the presence of black mould in the old estate, but you had hired mould cleaners, and even mould detecters who brought in an old dog to sniff about the property, and they, not once, found any sign of damp or growing fungus.

Entering the lounge you spotted Cregan, sitting stiff backed on the couch, head immediately flicking to you.

“I got you some pain killers,” You walked towards him, popping two little pills out of the foil packet, “Is it bad?”

Cregan’s lips twitched slightly as he watched you, eyes narrowed, and yet he did not answer.

Must be bad if he’s not talking.

“Here.” You held your hand out, waiting to place the two painkillers into his palm.

Cregan Stark watched you with hawklike eyes, not taking the pills from you. Suddenly he stood, large frame towering over you as he looked down his nose at you, face devoid of any emotion, and a certain strike of familiarity sparked inside your mind.

Why does this feel familiar?

A large hand struck out, grabbing you neck roughly, squeak falling from your lips as you were tugged towards Cregan, his lips finding yours in a rough and bruising kiss, his straight teeth nipping at your bottom lip roughly, tingles climbing up your spine. He kissed you until you were out of breath, hand not releasing itself from your neck, keeping you firmly to him until you parted bare centimetres away to catch your breath, lips brushing against each other as you heaved.

“What's gotten into you?” You breathed heavily, want coursing through you.

The pink of his tongue darted out to wet his lips, though moving slower as though he was savouring the taste of you on him, “I’ve missed this.” Came a deep purr from within his chest.

A smirk pulled at your mouth, “You had me last night.” You teased, nibbling at your bottom lip, wondering where this sudden burst of lust had come from.

Cregan merely grunted as he crashes his lips back against yours, fingers tightening around your throat in a way that you had begged him to do for months, cutting the supply of blood flow making your head spin. You mewled as he broke the kiss, spinning you around to push you over the edge of the couch arm.

Air was ripped from your lungs as he pushed his weight onto your lower back with his hand, fingers ripping at your clothes to reveal your slick folds to the room.

There was no preparation, no warning, just the sudden and sharp bite of his length pushing into your walls. You cried out, hands grasping at the pillows as he set a rough pace, his length dragging in and out of you sharply as he grunted from behind.

Cregan’s weight pushed into your spine as he continues to rut into you wildly, feet dangling uselessly as he fucking you over the arm of the couch, hands gripping the pillows tightly in your hands. It was the first time he had ever fucked you with such vigour, without care, and it set your nerves alight.

You whined beneath him, feeling closer and closer to your peak, slick coating your thighs and his length, the wet sound of flesh against flesh behind you.

“Always such a good little slut for me.” Cregan growled, and the sound sent tremors through you.

Your brows furrowed, a nagging sensation in the back of your mind telling you that something was not quite right. That Cregan would never call you that, had never called you that, and that it was something that Ae-

Blinding white pleasure burst through you as you came, Cregan moaning behind you as he felt your walls tighten around his length. You whined beneath him, body going slack as he sought out his own peak, rutting into you frantically until he came with a grunt, warmth filling your walls.

You slumped against the couch, mind hazy as your climax scrambled all thoughts. A kiss was pressed against your shoulder blade and a small hiss came from behind as your boyfriend pulled out of your core. Too tired to move, and the man clearly sensing that, you were scooped up into two large arms and carried off to your bedroom.

The rest of the evening a blur of being cleaned, given water to drink, and then the soft sheets and warmth of a body pressed up against you in bed, large hand stroking over your hair lovingly as you drifted off to sleep.

When you woke the next morning, it was to a grunt of pain and not pleasure. Cregan was laid on his back, hand once again pressed into his eye as his brows furrowed, desperate to alleviate the pain that settled behind it.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, turning to face him, watching as he tried to compose himself, a soft wince pulling at his features.

“Migraine again.” Cregan whispered into the early morning air.

Your hand out of habit, moved to soothe the hair at the top of his head on the side of the eye pain, in a way that was purely instinctual, in a way that you had for many years with Aemond whenever he would wake in pain, or lay in silence, biting roughly at his own lips to try and get through it alone.

Pressing a kiss to the side of Cregan’s face you crawled out of bed, “You didn’t take the painkillers last night that’s why. I’ll go get you some more.”

You had brought him the painkillers and forced him to take them with a whole glass of water, before settling back into the covers with him, soothing his long brown hair away from his face as the pain slowly dissipated away from his features.

The next week, it happened again.

The headache.

The cool half lidded gaze.

The sudden change in demeanour.

The things that he did and said reminded you so much of Aemond, that you felt immediate guilt for thinking of your late husband whilst in the throws of a rough fuck with your new boyfriend. But this time you took the reins, and told him to slow down, told him that you wanted it softer, more loving, more him.

“Sl-slow down.” You pleaded from below, thighs pressed against your chest as Cregan pushed his whole length inside of you, tip of his cock pushing against your cervix.

His eyes narrowed on you as he grunted, fucking into you harder instead, “No.” He growled, and a small spark of fear sparked up your spine.

Tears welled in your eyes as you pushed at his chest, “S-stop. Cregan, stop.” Your nails dug into his chest as you tried to push him off of you, yet his pace didn’t falter.

Your brain in its confusion pushed out a word you hadn’t used in years, a word that was reserved for you and Aemond only, a word that was to be used if you wanted all things to end.

“Perzys.”

Fire.

Cregan immediately stopped, eyes blinking suddenly as he looked down at you in a moment of confusion, and then concern. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you looked at him, your own confusion and sorrow swirling inside of you.

How did he-

“What’s wrong?”

A tear slid down your cheek as you felt him looking over you, blinking again as though trying to rise from a fog, and yet he had stopped. He stopped with a word that he shouldn’t have even known.

Or maybe you had told him. Maybe you had, a long time ago? Maybe he was confused by your sudden use of the foreign word? Maybe-

“You’re scaring me.” Your words came out breathlessly, all desire having leaked from your body and replaced with a myriad of others.

Guilt.

Fear.

Confusion.

Grief.

It was too real.

It was too familiar.

It was-

“I thought this was what you wanted, ñuha-“ Cregan’s hand flew to his eye, pressing into it roughly as he gasped out in pain.

You scrambled to sit up, pulling his length from inside of you as you held onto his face, soothing his hair away, fear replaced with worry.

“Hey, what’s going on?” You asked in concern, watching as Cregan’s teeth ground down on each other, low grunt of agony passing through his clenched teeth.

“Let me see.” You begged, mind going into autopilot as you gently grasped his wrist, pulling his hand away from his eye as he blinked down at you in surprise for a moment, a multitude of emotions flashing across his face before his hand rose, and then his face crumpled once again, and the heel of his hand pushed back into his eye.

You sprung into action, body already taking you immediately to get painkillers for him, hand reaching for the little yellow pill container before having to grab the others.

Eventually you got him to settle into bed, begging him to see a doctor, before the two of you finally agreed to see one later that week.

And what an uneventful doctors visit that was.

Two MRI’s, CT scans, and blood tests later, the doctor gave him the all clear. No growths to be seen, or unusual brain activity, not even a simple vitamin deficiency; Cregan was the pinnacle of health. The Stark came out of the doctors office with reassurance that there was no malignant growth or anything to be worried about, but a warning that perhaps stress was the causation for his sudden pains. He was given instructions to rest, and so Cregan took sick leave for the rest of the month.

Two weeks into Cregan’s rest, and the both of you were pleased to find that Cregan didn’t have another migraine attack. Nor did his demeanour suddenly change like the last time, much to your relief.

Winter had begun to roll into the realm, and the estate, being as old as it was, became far colder at times, inside than out. The fires were constantly lit to keep you both warm, and it made for a rather romantic setting for the two of you.

That morning you had gone out to get a nice bottle of wine to bring home. You were going to surprise Cregan with a home cooked meal, a nice bottle of red, and then after, if you were both feeling inclined, which you knew you would be, a slow and gentle fuck in front of the fireplace.

You had gone out of your way to avoid him that day, going to the shops to buy ingredients, prepping the dinner as quietly and quickly as you could, lighting candles in the casual lounge room for the two of you, and placing some fluffed pillows before the hearth to lounge in.

It was perfect.

Your dinner was cooked, and you were ready for the evening and with good timing. You heard Cregan walking through the hall as you put his bowl next to yours on the coffee table, placing the nice bottle of wine in the centre as you brushed down the sides of your dress and made sure your hair was perfect.

The dress you wore was tight and black, and although you had thought of wearing heels, there was no need to in your own home, so you went bare foot. Beneath your dress lay a lacy surprise. You waited to see Cregan enter the room, to see his smiling eyes and warm grin at you, but he kept on. Walking straight past the lounge, his footsteps disappearing down the vast hall.

You stood in confusion for a moment.

Maybe he was going to the bathroom.

Maybe he didn’t know you were there or that you had cooked dinner.

But he would have smelt it.

And he would have known.

You waited for a while longer, hoping he was making his way back, but when he didn’t, you began to grow impatient, leaving your steaming dinner behind to go in search for him. In that moment you cursed the vastness of the estate, but knew that Cregan wasn't really one to explore it. He kept to what he knew, and so you went to those spaces.

He wasn’t in your shared room.

Or the dining hall.

Or one of the many bathrooms.

Nor was he in the kitchen.

The estate was cold, and dark, and the coolness of the home creeped up your bare feet and into your spine, sending shivers running down it. You called out his name, hoping he would come to you so that you would eat.

But no response came.

It wasn’t until you were climbing the stairs back to your bedroom that you noticed a light on in a distant room.

A room far down the end of the east wing. A room in which Cregan knew he wasn’t allowed inside. A room in which you had not been inside of for a long, long time.

A pang of hurt and anger rose inside of you as you went towards it, feet slapping against the stones as you got closer and closer, unready and unwilling to be reasonable for such a boundary being crossed.

This was not what you had planned for the evening.

The hallway became shorter, as you got closer, and the air in the hall changed. It became colder. Sharper. More charged. And the anger that you had within you, slowly began to crackle as you came to a stop, spotting Cregan standing in Aemond’s study, his large back to you.

“What are you doing?” You demanded, hurt rising within as he stood in front of Aemond’s old desk.

There was the smallest of whispers of something not being right that began to grow in the back of your mind.

But Cregan did not answer you, nor did he turn to look at you when he would have no doubt heard you enter.

The room opened a wound you thought had been closed.

And Cregan had done that.

You stepped towards him again, no answer still from his lips.

You thought he was better than this.

You thought that he respected this boundary.

What did he want from coming into this room?

Why would he be in here?

You looked at his posture.

Bone straight.

His large hands clenching and unclenching at his side as his head stayed straight on.

Something wasn’t right.

“You shouldn’t be in here.” You told him, voice wary as you stopped yourself mere feet away from him.

Again, no answer.

Did something happen?

Was this a test?

“Cregan?”

And then you heard it.

A low chuckle.

A sound that in your years of dating Cregan, you had not heard once.

And in your years of his absence, you had missed.

It was a chuckle that sent ice running down your spine.

And yet, your feet took you forward anyway.

“Cregan?” You asked again, wariness in your voice as you tried to peer around his side and look at his face.

Was this a dream?

A nightmare?

A hum. All that came from his chest, was a deep and oh too familiar hum.

“Hm.”

Your spine stiffened, and it felt as though the air in the room turned to ice, goosebumps rising on your skin.

“This isn’t funny, Cregan. Get out.” One last attempt of courage, one last attempt of standing your ground, or at least your first attempt, which came and flew and crashed to the ground in flames.

Cregan finally shifted, turning to face you, and although it was the face of your boyfriend, it was the mannerisms of your late husband which caused you to gasp out in fear. On Cregan’s soft lips, was the sharp pull of a smirk that Aemond almost always reserved for you.

“I’ve missed you zaldrītsos.” Little dragon.

Horror flooded you.

“Cregan.” You warned in clenched teeth, afraid that if they were open, they’d chatter, “This isn’t funny.”

Growling, a tear fell down your cheek, your hands clenched into fists as you looked at him.

He had no right to be in this room.

He had no right to call you that name.

To act as he did.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Another smirk, and a step towards you, “Cregan is indisposed.”

Another tear fell down your cheek as you took a step backwards and away, watching as his eyes roamed down your body, “Cut it out, Creg. I’m serious.”

Brown hair cascaded over his shoulder as he tilted his head at you, clicking his tongue, “Oh, I'm deathly serious.” Came his purr-like response.

Your heart raced against your ribcage, blood rushing into your ears as you stared at him in shock and fear.

This-

It couldn’t-

It wasn’t-

“Aemond?” You breathed.

And it was the smile that did it for you. The smile you had prayed and hoped and dreamed to see every day for the years without it, yet now, seeing it up close on the face of your boyfriend scared the living wits from you.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shifted lightly on his feet, not at all in the clunky manner that Cregan would have, but it in a smooth, calculated way that was every movement Aemond would make, “Have you missed me?”

You couldn’t move.

You couldn’t breathe.

You couldn’t speak, even if you dared to.

It must be a dream.

A cruel dream.

A nightmare in which you would wake from soon.

But it felt too real.

It felt too sure.

He was here.

There, right in front of you. But it wasn’t him.

It wasn’t his body, his face, his voice.

But it was him.

He took another step towards you, and your stumbled backwards, mouth agape as you looked at him, the shadows of the dark lit room falling across his face.

And then there it was.

That Cheshire Cat smile.

“Run."

Your feet bound on the flagstones as you fled in terror, racing down the stairs to try and escape, to leave the estate, to get to your car and go, or your phone, or anywhere that wasn’t near him. To get away from him. It wasn’t him.

It wasn’t him.

It was.

It was him.

Air struggled to get into your lungs as you ran as fast as you could, hands catching themselves on the stone walls, nails biting into them as you caught yourself taking sharp corners, the dark halls and stairways causing your heart to race faster, feeling as though they were closing in on you.

You didn’t dare look back.

You knew he was there.

You knew he was chasing you.

Something you had done together for fun, for pleasure, but now, you were struck with terror.

But there it was, sweet salvation.

The floor crashed up towards you as you landed heavily on your knees, tripping on the last step, not wasting anytime to check for injury nor even feel the blood that dripped down your legs, knees skinned from landing on the ancient stone floors.

But there it was.

The main hall.

And there at the end, your way out.

Your escape.

The front doors of the estate.

You raced for it, heart in your throat, air barely in your lungs as they screamed for a reprieve, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you got closer and closer, fear still crawling up your throat, threatening to break through as a scream.

And scream you did as your body was hauled off of your feet and into the air by a pair of large arms, wrapped around your centre. You kicked and clawed as you tried to get away from him, mind racing a million miles an hour, unsure of what was happening, and if it was even possible, but desperate to get away.

Not a sound, nor a jeer, nor a tease came from the man behind you. Not even a word to reassure you that this was a game, that it was Cregan, that you were safe, that this was just a long planned part of a fantasy you had expressed you wanted and he had denied.

There was no reassurance.

There was no check in.

Because it wasn’t Cregan.

It was Aemond.

And as he hauled you back down the hall and up the stairs, kicking and screaming, back to his study, tears falling from your cheeks, you knew that it was him. You knew that it had been the slightest glimmers of him in Cregan the past month. Those migraines were more, those changes were more, and you had ignored them.

Your hips collided with the desk of Aemond's study as he threw you into it, hands desperate to catch your fall, spreading across the desk knocking over items that had not been touched nor moved for years.

“I’ve had to watch him fuck you, every night.” He growled from behind, as you tried to push yourself up, his body caging you into his desk. There was a flicker of familiarity of the times you had once found yourself in a similar predicament.

“I’ve had to hear your moans and whines, knowing they were for someone else.” He said angrily, pulling at your dress, ripping it upwards as you tried to pull it back down, hands clawing backwards at his arms.

“You’re insane!” You screamed at him, “Get off me, Cregan!”

Aemond chuckled from behind, “You know it’s me. You always did like it rough,” His hands smacked yours away from him, shoving your face down on the desk again, “And poor Cregan just couldn’t do that for you, could he?”

Tears fell onto the desk below you, brain short circuiting as you didn’t know what to do or how to react, “Cregan, this isn’t funny.” You tried one last time, hoping his name would reach him, to snap him out of whatever this was, “Please, stop.”

Two large hands wrapped themselves around your wrists, bringing them both into one as he squeezed, face coming to the side of yours as he growled deeply, “Stop. Calling. Me. That.”

Aemond’s free hand ripped at your lace panties that you had worn for Cregan, tearing them to shreds from your body, the burn of the material hot against your skin. His hips pressed into you from behind roughly, and you stifled a confused and frightened sob.

“I’m going to fuck this little pussy like I’ve wanted to for years.” He emphasised with a grind against your backside, “I’ve had to watch you cry over me, my sweet byka mēre.” Little one, You sobbed loudly at the name, “Ao sagon ñuhon. Iksan dōrī ivestragī jā.” You’re mine. I am never letting you go.

It was him.

It was truly him.

Cregan couldn’t speak Aemond’s native tongue.

Cregan didn’t know the names your late husband had called you.

It was him.

It was Aemond.

You sobbed beneath him, you didn’t know if it was in relief, in horror, or in fear.

You were so confused.

“Valzȳrys?” Husband, You cried, trying to turn your head, but knowing that you would be met with a face that didn’t match.

Long fingers brushed through your folds, finding them slick already, “Shhh.” Aemond quietened you, “Let me take care of my ābrazȳrys.” Wife.

Aemond smeared your slick through your folds with the tip of his cock as he brushed against your bud and then pushed inside of you. A long groan fluttered through his chest, vibrating against your back.

He set a brutal pace immediately, the old, heavy, wooden desk jutting with each thrust, your hips no doubt bruised from the force. Tears still fell from your eyes as you cried out, feeling him pull you by your hair, causing your back to arch up against his front as he fucked into you harder, hot pants in your ear.

Aemond fucked you in a way that only he knew how, pulling mewl after mewl from you with every stroke, large palm squeezing at your throat whilst the other moved to grasp at your hip, pulling you back onto his cock roughly, slick dripping down your thighs as the coil within you began to tighten.

“So fucking tight for me.” He grunted from behind, hand coming to your front to gather some slick from your folds as he parted them further, his cock plunging inside of you from between them, “So fucking wet. I have missed this little pussy.”

His fingers pressed against your bud, swirling in time with his thrusts, causing your pleasure to mount faster and faster, the tears having stopped falling from your eyes as you moaned loudly, head thrown back against his shoulder.

Your release was bounding towards you rapidly, and Aemond felt it.

“Squeezing me so good, you gonna cum for me already?”

You nodded, feeling a smirk beside your cheek as he pressed harder against your bud, “Cum for me.”

The coil snapped, and warmth flooded over your body as your writhed in his grip, walls gripping his cock as you came hard. Aemond increased his pace, fucking into you harder as he squeezed your neck roughly, mind spinning and vision going black in the corners.

You felt like you were floating.

You hadn’t felt like this in years.

Aemond moaned from behind you as your walls clamped down on him, “Such a perfect little pussy.” He thrusted deeply into you, grinding the air out of your lungs as your mouth dropped open, “Made me for me. Only me.”

You body began to feel heavy as he continued to squeeze your throat, mind going fuzzy as you floated in bliss, his cock drilling into your walls, the sound of your slick release obscene in the room as he clapped his hips against yours.

“You’re mine.” Came a growl that sounded just like Aemond’s voice and not Cregan’s, tip of his cock jutting into your cervix painfully, “Forever.”

You nodded weakly and whined, “Yours. Only yours.”

Tears began to spring into your eyes again, knowing that this was Aemond. Knowing that this was him, but also knowing that you could never have him truly. Knowing he was gone, and never coming back, and although you had tried, although you did love Cregan, you would never truly move on from Aemond.

You would always be his.

The grip around your neck pulled away and blood rushed to your head, strange euphoria taking over as you felt his pull out of you from behind. You stumbled forward slightly before he caught you, turning you around and lifting you onto the desk. And although you were staring at Cregan’s face, with his stormy grey eyes and his brown hair, you could tell just by the way his features contorted, by the way he moved or talked or fucked you, that it was Aemond.

And at this, more tears came.

Aemond sucked his tongue at you, wiping away a tear roughly as he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, and without waiting another second, slid back inside of your walls, a needy moan falling from your lips as you continued to cry.

Aemond began to rub at your clit again, sending blinding pleasure back up your spine. It was almost too much, too intense, added with everything else, your mind was running in circles.

You whimpered and tried to run away from his fingers, which only served to anger him.

“Stop crying.” He ordered, hand slapping at your clit in warning causing you to yelp.

You hiccuped and sniffled, body jolting with every thrust as he pushed you backwards to lay down on the desk, hovering over you, one hand gripping your shoulder to pull you back down on him, the other pressed onto your swollen bud, “You like when I fuck this little pussy?” He grunted, and you closed your eyes, trying to imagine his face instead of seeing Cregan’s.

“You’ve been thinking of me, haven’t you?” He chastised you, tutting meanly as you nodded your head with a suppressed sob, “He could never fuck you the way I can.”

Pleasure mounting within you again, all you could do was nod and babble yes.

This seemed to both please and anger Aemond, his thrusts speeding up as your spine rubbed painfully into the hard wooden surface, “Cregan could never give you what you want. What you need. He’s useless.” A tear tracked down your cheek as you turned your head away, looking at the far wall as he ploughed into your cunt, “It’s only me. Only I can make you feel this good.”

You moaned beneath him as you felt your second peak rising just as rapidly as the first, his hand not once relenting. But your non-answer came at a cost. Pain bloomed in the side of your cheek as you squeaked, slap having caught your attention as Aemond pinched your jaw in his hand to look up into eyes that weren’t his.

“Say it.” He thrust into you sharply and as deep as he could go, sparks of pain rippling through your cervix in a haze of confusing pleasure.

“Only you,” You whined, “Always you, Aemond.”

“Good girl.”

Aemond’s pace increased, determined to bring you to your end as well as reach his, each thrust jolting the desk against the floor and punching the air from your lungs. You knew that by morning you’d be an aching and bruised mess, but that thought only brought you closer to your peak.

Loving kisses were dotted against your cheeks as Aemond soothed the tracks of tears away with his lips. Your hands reaching up to wrap themselves around his shoulders and your legs around his waist, desperate to pull him in closer.

“Please.” You whimpered, but you didn’t know what for.

Aemond’s arms scooped under your back and pulled you closer to him, changing the angle so that his cock pressed deeper and at a higher angle, one that he knew you loved the most.

And it was all that you needed before you fell of the edge with him, head tossed back in ecstasy as you came for the second time, Aemond following you with a long moan, pressing as deep as he could inside of you.

“I love you.” You whispered into his neck, feeling his cock pulse inside of you, cum filling up your walls.

Your hands soothed the hair at the front of his face in a way you knew he liked, and you felt him shudder from above, kisses pressed into the crux of your shoulder and neck as he whispered into the skin.

I love you.

All too soon, the high of your ecstasy fizzled away, and reality came crashing down around you. Your arms and legs tightened around him, small hiss coming through his teeth as your walls clamped around him.

The stinging prickle of tears filled your eyes again, “Please don’t leave me.” You cried, heart beginning to feel as though it was breaking all over again.

Aemond pulled away from you, though not without a struggle, a different face looking down at you with a familiar sign of love. His hand came to brush the tears away from your cheek slowly, before he leant down to pull you into a kiss, your lips shuddering as you poorly contained a sob, “I will never leave you.” He whispered against your lips, “Not now, not ever. I am always here.” He pulled away, soothing your hair from your face as his brows pulled together in a way that you knew pain was coming.

You tried to sit up, to try and soothe his pain, to instinctually run for the medication you had kept all these years, but he stopped you, cupping your cheek with his large hand as he looked down at you, eyes now full of determination, “I am always watching you. And one day, Cregan won’t be a problem anymore.”

You blinked in confusion as you looked at him, your own brows furrowing, but before you could even respond, his eyes shut in pain and a groan whittled through his lips, heel of his hand pressed into the side of his face where Aemond had lost his eye.

“Aemond?” You whispered quietly, unsure what was happening.

Grey eyes opened slightly, looking at you in confusion as he blinked a couple of times, “Huh?” A low groan came from deep within his chest as he clutched the side of his head, “Wha- Wher-“

“Cregan?”

His eyes opened at you again, and then did a sweep of you and the position you were in. You looked no doubt a mess, hair tousled, neck red from where Aemond’s- Cregan’s hands had squeezed, down to your ripped dress, to finally where you were still connected, your combined releases leaking onto the old wooden desk.

Blinking rapidly he noticed the tear tracks staining your cheeks, and suddenly the pain was pushed away by concern. Cregan’s hand came to touch your neck tentatively, fear rising on his features, "Are you okay?” His voice was rushed, “Are you hurt? Did I- Did I hurt you?”

Guilt and pain struck in your chest.

He thought you were hurt.

He thought he hurt you.

You shook your head rapidly, clutching the sides of his face in your hands, “No, no. You didn’t hurt me. Not at all.”

Cregan seemed to relax at this, though there was still confusion as he looked at you, forehead pulled in pain as he tried to piece everything together.

“Did we…”

You bit at your lip, worrying it between your teeth, “Are you okay? Do you remember anything?”

The man closed his eyes for a moment, trying to think, “I remember smelling food, and then I had this urge to go somewhere.“

Your heart began to race in your chest as you looked at him. You wet your lips with your tongue, eyes searching his face for any sign of Aemond left.

What had just happened?

Was any of that real?

What was happening to you?

What was happening to Cregan?

“Hey.” Cregan caught your attention again, lowering his face to your height, “Are you okay?”

Your mouth was dry.

Were you okay?

No.

Yes.

You didn’t know.

“I’m okay.” You lied.

Cregan frowned at your obvious avoidance, “You sure I didn’t hurt you?”

“Positive.” You reassured him, pressing a kiss to his cheek, your stomach turning.

When you pulled away, Cregan was watching you with caution again.

“What?” You asked quietly, fear beginning to rise inside of you.

Did he remember?

Does he know?

Did he-

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You couldn’t help it.

You couldn’t stop it if you tried.

A broken sob fell through your lips like a half laugh.

Had you?

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