#if anything giving that a shot without a crystal clear idea of what i could try doing might detract from it even

[rad-roche]

finished disco elysium

[lilystyles]

stuck in the middle with you.

part seven of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles

no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx

authors note the finale, welcome and enjoy! i hope you've liked this series as much as i have enjoyed writing it. i plan to do blurbs of these guys! at ur requests!! follow me to see new one-shots or series coming in future xxxx

brief description y/n is the maid of honour and harry is the best man, what happens when they are forced to share a room? do they reconcile their issues or are they too far gone.

warnings! swearing, sexual themes, alcohol abuse, and ANGST. (10.6k words)

inexperienced!reader x fwb!harry

* * * * *

That night felt like a long time ago now. The memory had a hazy glow of golden light filling it in Y/n’s mind it felt so far away from where she was now. It felt unreachable and dreamlike.

And yet funnily enough Y/n still replayed it in her mind most nights when she couldn’t sleep, it kept her up into the wee hours of the morning, and she wished she could understand. She just wished she understood it. But she still couldn’t, no matter how many times she replayed it she always came to the same conclusion; Harry wasn’t hers and he had never been. All those months really were just a bit of fun to him, a secret fling. She was sure most of his flings were secret, but then again maybe he just didn’t want anyone to know about her. When they weren’t talking and he was off being famous she saw countless paparazzi photos of him looking quite scandalous with many different men and women, and mentions of his new flings, and during university, he had a new person every week whom he’d come into her room to hide from while Y/n went out and made them guilt filled pancakes. Sometimes she’d bump into them around campus and they’d ask after Harry and she’d just give a shrug as if to say, what can you do?

Whenever she started to feel sombre about it all, and lonely without him, she reminded herself of the fact that he was so sick to his stomach embarrassed by the idea of people knowing about them, that he ended things with her just like that. With no consideration or gentleness which was so out of his character when it came to his friends. She had never seen him so callous with someone whom he claimed he was close to. Even if he saw her as just his friend, she didn’t ever take him as that kind of guy. Harry was not a careless person, if anything he cared too much. Thought over and over before speaking.

It had been a month nearly two since that weekend of absolute foggy chaos. Everything was different now. But she could still remember that morning he came to see her crystal clear though, and that memory was grey and bitter now. It was early, and Y/n though hungover had woken up with the sun. Unusual for her, but something other than the Tequila had her feeling nauseous and his name was Harry. She felt something gnawing in her tummy, and it was almost like she could sense something bad was coming. She just really hadn’t expected what did come.

Harry told her he would call her but he hadn’t, which worried her because he always called. He showed up with little warning, Y/n had already rolled herself up in her blanket on the couch planning to spend the day with her face in her toilet. But she heard a knocking at her door just as she’d turned the telly on.

She opened it and was met with Harry’s green eyes, the rims were red from a lack of sleep. His eyes were puffy and he looked about as terrible as she felt, she tried to assume it was just his hangover. His hair was wet and so was his jumper, it must’ve been raining, she hadn’t heard it. He’d been up all night stressed out over thinking while staring at the new series of photos of Y/n kissing his cheek and him looking at her with these love-filled eyes. Not to mention there were so many of his obsessive fans commenting and being hateful towards her, her looks, everything. To Harry she was perfect and he despised what they were saying. He could handle what people said about him, but now that it was Y/n he wanted to cry. He never wanted her to know or read any of the comments. He couldn’t bear it.

Y/n hadn’t checked her Instagram for a few days but if she looked she’d see millions of requests to her Instagram. She wasn’t much of a social media user other than the ones she used for contact with her family.

“Oh, hey.” She said softly, voice all scratchy she looked very ill.

He had this look on his face, and Y/n could tell he had bad news. But she didn’t expect him to say what he said. 

He made them both a cup of tea each and they sat down on her couch but something was shaky and aloof about him. The early morning news played in the background and Y/n felt her head throbbing hard against her skull as she tried hard to focus on him.

“I think it’s for the best if we just stop this.” He said quickly like ripping off a bandaid.

Y/n felt a lump form in her throat and it hurt to swallow.

She blinked. A beat passed and she felt like she couldn’t speak.

“Stop?” Was all she could say, it sounded weak and croaky.

“I-” He was almost speechless. He saw the glaze of tears spreading over her eyes and a wave of guilt spread underneath his skin like wildfire. But he did not back down and backtrack, he just waited for her response. 

He felt guilty, but he knew if they’d gotten even more serious, and he’d told her he loved her and finally told her how he felt that this cloud of trouble that came with being famous would follow her too.

She just nodded at him, biting her lip trying to hold back the tears. They’d risked it, and now they were suffering the consequences. How could they even be friends after something like this? It hadn’t been smart at all! She felt like a fucking idiot. This was her own fault. She should’ve known. Even though Harry is sensitive, even though he is kind, even though he acts like he is hers, she should have known that he did not want to settle down with her. Be with her. He’d had their whole lives to try it on with her, what made her think adding some sex was going to change that?! She felt ridiculous, this was so fucking cliche. She had become that girl. That stupid girl who believed she could change him.

Now she just wished she’d done nothing at all and stayed inexperienced and sad and alone. At least then she didn’t feel this painful weight in her chest like she couldn’t breathe. Like an elephant was sitting on her chest and she had a rock in her throat. She wanted to claw at the skin by her jugular rip it open and dig out the uncomfortable lump.

It hurt terribly to lose him that first time when they’d only been friends. How would she recover from this? It took her months to move on from that. She was a deeply sensitive person, who despite contrary beliefs noticed little things about people and picked up on things others didn’t. She wondered if it was because she had no experience with romantic love and only just these deep-rooted friendships. But it meant losing a friend felt like mourning. She didn’t know if her heart would handle this. She felt embarrassed that she cared so deeply.

But he wasn’t just a boy he was Harry. He was one of her oldest friends. He knew her, he really knew her, better than anyone else. And now she just had to forget him?

Suddenly those nights that were perfect had begun to tarnish with a bitter blackness that she couldn’t stop. She couldn’t talk, she felt like she’d been winded. 

Harry said nothing and watched her, waiting.

She stared at the hands in her lap and her eyes looked like they were a second away from spilling a tear. When his hand reached for hers, she acted like his touch had burned and only then did she look at him. He felt guilt crawl under his skin and he felt like vomiting as a sweat crept up his neck.

“Okay. I understand, it was never meant to be more than once anyway. You can go now, I don’t feel good. I don’t want you to catch this cold.” She said with a flat soft tone, fast like she had something better to do, and like this was very unimportant compared to her other to-do’s.

When he looked for the hurt in her eyes he was met with a harsh cold look he hadn’t expected or ever seen in her eyes.

“Okay, I’ll see you.” 

His hands itched to stroke her cheek but he refrained and instead got up put his coat on and left without another word. When the door shut and she heard his footsteps get quieter Y/n placed her hand on her heart and begged for her lungs to breathe, as a wetness landed on her cheeks and she fell to the floor trying to ground herself. Where had all the air gone? He hadn’t taken that with him too, had he?

He didn’t see her. She didn’t see him. In fact, they’d actively avoided each other since that day. Their friends knew now they’d been together (they had assumed but now knew for sure), the tabloids knew too, and the entire world knew they’d had a steamy fling. But none of them knew why things had ended, and neither did Y/n really. But she wasn’t going to question Harry, especially because that meant speaking to him. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to, not without crying or making a fool of herself.

She should’ve known that he had always been carefree when it came to sex and he wasn’t particularly tied down to one place or person he was free. A free spirit, which is probably what helped him be such a good lover, he was attentive and enjoyed making the other person feel good, Y/n was sure the men or women he’d slept with could agree he was good. She wondered if they felt like she did like he was falling in love too.

What made her think she could change him? Why did she let herself get tangled in him, now everything she did was embedded in the memories. It had been nearly six months since New Year's. 

It was Summer now, the cold had vanished and gone with it so had the person who kept her warm. When she met with Daisy to go to the dress fittings for bridesmaids dresses the last person the two girls expected to run into was Harry of all people. He was in one shop over looking for a gift for James and Daisy. Their wedding was in two weeks. He’d been pondering what to get them, they had the most important things already — love, happiness, and great clothes. What do you buy people who have everything they need? They were rich in things that mattered.

Daisy now knew everything that had happened because Y/n told her when she knocked down her door and found Y/n on the floor hidden in mountains of takeaway containers listening to Taylor Swift. She almost wanted to call Miss Taylor herself, after all, she’d written like two albums about Harry. Y/n thought that was rather understandable. He stayed stuck in her brain like honey to her fingers.

Daisy didn’t know what was wrong with Harry and didn’t understand what went wrong. They were perfect for each other, she’d thought so since primary school. She was trying hard to get them to speak, and resolve this. She hated it when they weren’t talking. It just didn’t feel right. She didn’t like it the first time when he got lost in the fame. It was weird seeing them not attached at the hip.

But still, she certainly hadn’t planned to bump into him with Y/n today, who had only just started to leave her flat a few weeks ago, she knew Y/n wasn’t ready. But they had no choice. Y/n had been the one to see him first, well, she unknowingly bumped into a passerby on the crowded street but when the skin against hers basically burnt she whipped her head at the feeling, a slight knowing tingled in her chest and she was met with the green eyes she saw at night, that tormented her daydreams and nightmares too.

Her eyes widened for a moment and Daisy spoke first which Y/n was pathetically thankful for. She thought she must’ve dreaming and in her worst nightmare. She dug her nails into her palm to see if she was awake.

When she felt a piercing pain she knew she was, and she wished the floor would open and swallow her whole never to be seen again.

“Haz? What are you doing here?” Daisy felt like she was interrupting something but knew Y/n needed her help. She was staring at him like he was a ghost, her skin had paled.

He smiled but it didn’t quite meet his eyes when he saw Y/n looking anywhere but at him. The gum on the floor seemed more interesting to her than her old friend Harry.

“Jus’ shopping.” He replied vaguely, as he gestured to the bags in his hands.

Daisy nodded. “Us too. Y/n needs her maid of honour dress, it’s super beautiful, we are on our way to pick it up.”

He smiled. “Oh, nice.”

He noticed the cup in Y/n’s hands. During the summer she loved Matcha it was her summer drink. She especially loved it from this little place around the corner, it was this hole-in-the-wall type of cafe called Lily’s. It’d been somewhere they’d go and study or get some snacks after a long day. It was a place from their years as roommates. When Y/n was particularly down during the summertime Harry would go and buy it for her and bring it home. It always cheered her up. One time this guy Mike stood her up on a date, and Harry bought her a matcha and walked her to her class. On the way they’d run into him walking with another girl and Harry threw his Iced Americano on him.

“Lily’s and shopping? Your favourite.” He said softly trying to laugh, and see her smile like normal, but when she looked at him, it looked like she was in pain. Then suddenly her face was blank. He didn’t know what she was feeling. She felt far from him and unreachable. He’d tried to call her phone but she’d never called back.

“Lily’s isn’t my favourite anymore. They changed their recipe.”

No, they hadn’t. She still loved it there, Y/n just wanted to make it obvious that he didn’t get to act like he knew her. Even though he did, he wasn’t allowed to. Not anymore.

Call her dramatic all you want. But being hurt by her oldest friend wasn’t something she could just brush underneath the carpet and pretend wasn’t there. And why did he have to be famous? If she’d finally forgotten about him for a while then she’d see him on telly, on her socials, on a fucking billboard, hear him on the radio. He was impossible to escape. He even invaded her dreams.

“Shame.”

She shrugged. “Guess I’ll just have to find a new place.”

Harry felt like that was targeted, and resisted the urge to clutch his chest.

There was a pause of the two of them staring at each other and then Harry looked at his watch. “I’ve gotta run. I’ll see you.”

Y/n felt a rush. I’ll see you.

She didn’t see him again until the rehearsal dinner a few weeks later during the peak of Summer heat. Daisy had decided to have her wedding in the countryside, it was beautiful. The hotel all the guests were staying in was this adorable Inn called The Butterfly. The venue was a gorgeous winery. It was perfect. Exactly what Daisy had wanted, cosy, homey, and small. But the winery itself was luxurious and decorated beautifully.

The wedding party was massive though. Full of family and friends. Y/n’s parents were there because they knew Daisy’s and James’ families quite well. Anne and Gemma too. Basically, all of Holmes Chapel was there. It felt like a fucking reunion, Y/n even saw her Kindergarten teacher Miss Prattley. Who happened to be Daisy’s second cousin.

The rehearsal dinner was at this swanky restaurant the winery owned not far from the Inn. It was booked out just for them. It had chandeliers and crisp white tables, crystal glasses for the drinks. Properly fancy, like that restaurant Harry took her to.

Y/n arrived early to the dinner with Penny by taxi. Penny was wearing a clean and elegant-looking suit, it was cream-coloured. Her hair was slicked back and she looked like she was from an eighties music video in the best way possible. She always had a clean, corporate look to her, Y/n said it was because she was a lawyer.

Y/n had gone for a more fitting look at the scenery and weather. She was in a floral sundress that she paired with soft pink heels and gold jewels. She looked beautiful as always. Gentle dewy makeup, and hair styled up. She looked simply adorable and soft.

When the two girls walked up the pebbled driveway they heard a crunch behind them, and there he was. He was in a billowy black button-up and deep brown dress pants. He had some of the buttons undone on his shirt exposing his tattoos, he looked fucking good. Y/n hated him for it. Penny smiled rushing to give him a hug and greeting. Harry had only just arrived today.

Penny rushed ahead of them both at the call of her name from someone (any excuse to get away from that she hated being in the middle). 

Harry and Y/n fell into step silently shoes crunching against the gravel, Y/n tried to slip. And though the tension was horrible, she still had a sense of comfort in Harry’s presence. She didn’t feel the need to talk or scream. He could surely tell by her cold and blunt mannerisms how she felt about the whole thing and how she felt about him. How could he not? He’d released a new album and she hadn’t said anything to him or even bothered to listen. Normally no matter how long it had been she always told him her favourite song and congratulated him. He’d received nothing from her that day.

Had she even listened? She had to know all the songs on that album were about her.

Y/n would like to once again say it wasn’t that he ended things with her, if he didn’t like her anymore that’s fine but it was so sudden. It's how he did it, and why? She was only left to conclude his reason was that he was embarrassed and that annoyed her. What was wrong with her? Was she not cool enough? Not famous enough? Not experienced enough? Not Kendell Jenner or a singer? She thought he liked that Y/n was from the past, but maybe he had changed too much and needed something new and shiny.

But seriously what was so wrong with her he had to run for the hills at the idea of anyone knowing he might’ve slightly liked her — or at the very least found her attractive. What was it? That’s what drove her crazy. 

Why? 

Why? 

WHY?

What drove her even crazier was that he wanted to go back to being old chums from Uni or home. She wasn’t his old friend anymore, she was just someone he had a lot of memories with now. They couldn’t revert back. Especially if he never tells her the truth. They’d have to be these horrible fake strangers.

“You look nice.” He said breaking the silence. The air was humid and thick outside.

And Y/n snapped her head in his direction as they began to walk inside the foyer, the heat had them both glistening in a light sheen of sweat. At least it was nice and cool inside, she found some relief from it. 

His comment was so outrageous to her that she said nothing at all.  

“So I’m getting the silent treatment?” She could feel his eyes on her cheek.

“Until I can think of a reason to talk with you, yeah.” She said clenching the purse in her hand and looking ahead at the room where everyone waiting inside.

“What does that mean?”

She turned her face and suddenly they were almost nose to nose, she hadn’t realised he was so close. “The only reason I’m here is for Daisy and James. My being here believe it or not isn’t to see you. Stop treating me like a hurt puppy. You don’t owe me your pathetic guilt. Just stop.”

He opened his mouth and shut it again.

“I’m not an ex-girlfriend but I’m not just Y/n either. Things are different now. Don’t treat it like something it isn’t. I don’t wish to be around you, and I’m here out of respect for our friends. I’m not going to make this nice weekend about us. Whatever the fuck this little thing is,” She said her hand pointing at the both of them.

He grabbed her arm and she didn’t pull away only looking at him defeated. “Why can’t we go back to the way we were before?” He said desperately.

She yanked her hand away and scoffed at that comment. “We made a mistake, and now we have to deal with it. What about that don’t you under—”

“Guys!!” Called James. “You coming?” He was dressed in blue his long brown hair brushed neater than normal.

Y/n turned and a faux smile returned to her face. “Yeah coming!”

Harry had never been on Y/n’s bad side before and he had to say it was much worse than he expected. He followed behind and Y/n held back from stomping her foot and throwing a tantrum when she saw she was seated beside Harry tonight, maid of honour and best man. For fucks sake.

The food was delicious, Y/n’s wine was great too and after a few, she was feeling more relaxed despite the intense presence to her left watching her the whole night. She started to laugh with others at the table, and when Anne came over to chat Y/n was kind and friendly. 

Clearly, Anne had no idea they were no longer speaking and still assumed they were together. “You two look so nice tonight.”

Y/n smiled. “Aww, thank you, Anne.”

“That is a nice necklace, Darling.” Said Anne looking at Harry’s neck. 

Y/n didn’t look until Harry said “Y/n got it for me, back in Uni.”

She whipped her head to look at his neck. There sat the pedant. She fought the urge to rip it off his neck. 

“Aren’t you just darling?” Said Anne with a smile getting up to go speak to someone, interrupting them. Y/n smiled as Anne stroked her cheek and when she left she relaxed back into her pout. Everyone was chatting to others and Y/n thought no one would notice if she slipped away for some fresh air. 

She walked outside clutching her purse and taking a seat on the concrete steps taking in a deep breath. She pulled out a secret cigarette one in case of emergencies and lit it. She knew it was silly, but she needed a distraction. The nicotine hit her throat and she shut her eyes. She needed a moment to herself.

And as she looked up at the clear night sky and tried to remember constellations she felt her heart rate slow and her skin unprickle. For a moment she felt relief but when she heard the door swing open and heard footsteps that were too familiar she knew she was going to have very little relief at all this weekend, her luck lately was apparently not there at all.

She continued smoking. 

“Can we talk? I don’t feel we finished our conversation earlier.”

Y/n shut her eyes. “There’s nothing to say, H.”

The nickname slipped from her mouth with little thought. She sounded so tired of it all, and Harry noticed by the way her shoulder slumped and her voice drawled out in a slower more rumbling sound.

“You seemed to have plenty ta’ say before. C’mon.”

She opened her eyes when she felt him sit down beside her, his thigh touched hers and she tried to ground herself. 

“I don’t have anything to say. I said it all.”

“You could explain why you’re ignoring me.”

She huffed out a scoff. “Are you joking?”

He caught her eye, and he finally saw some pain in them. Had the champagne gone to his head? He didn’t know why he was bringing it up. But seeing her again he couldn’t stay away. It was impossible, all the work he had done for months, the willpower he had, not to call her, text her, go around to her flat and get on his knees and beg for her to forgive him. That strength and discipline he’d had was flying right out the window the moment he was near her.

“Harry we messed up.”

He frowned hands rubbing against his knees. “Who says?”

“Me.” She turned to him throwing the finished cigarette on the floor and stomping on it. “I can’t even look at you right now, we ruined it. We should’ve- I should’ve known better than to be this stupid and reckless,”

“What was so reckless about it? We were just having fun and it came to a natural end.”

That one stung. It stung deep. So deep it burned. “I’m not like you! We both knew that. We both knew I’m not that kind of girl. I’m not carefree, I’m not sexy, I’m not casual, I’m not half in half out. You knew I wasn’t that girl, why did you make me believe I was?”

He didn’t know what that meant exactly. He didn’t know how to reply.

“I should’ve fucking known. You left me once and I should’ve known you’d do it again. I never know why. You must just get sick of me. A little warning would be nice but don’t worry this won’t happen again. You won’t have to hear from me again.”

“Y/n that’s not true and you know it.” He tried to argue but she was off on a tangent, and he wanted to hear what she said. He wanted to know how she felt. See if he could fix it.

“I’ll see you at these kinds of things and be polite, I’ll be nice to your mum, I’ll smile when you do well with another tour or album, but I won’t be with you. I won’t be something you can come back to when you’re bored of the models and singers and parties. I’ll be a real old friend, who isn’t in touch with you for a real reason. Maybe we will see each other at a Christmas party again, and I’ll smile and wave and we’ll both leave with our boring dates and that will be that, Harry.”

“Y/n, please do-”

“Oh, save it, Harry! you made a fool out of me! I feel fucking pathetic!” She was regretting her last wine, it made her lips loose and her words honest. She started to walk along the front terrace away from him. 

He followed grabbing her arm. “This isn’t the Y/n I know. This isn’t my Y/n.”

Y/n wanted to punch him, but the touch of his hand felt nice and familiar. 

She couldn’t believe he’d been the first boy she had fallen for. 

She couldn’t pinpoint a moment of when exactly she had, but upon reflection maybe it was on the monkey bars during primary school when Y/n lost her first tooth.

She’d fallen down off them after trying to skip to the third bar. Harry quickly jumped down and brushed the tanbark from her face and told her it was okay. He dug around looking for her tooth as she wailed about how she lost it and hugged her when she cried at her bloody hands. 

That night when she wrote to the tooth fairy she said, ‘My friend Harry found it for me so please be extra nice to him when he loses his first tooth he deserves even more money than I do.’ Her Mum still had the letter hidden in a drawer.

Or maybe it was during high school when she got her first period. It had been in the middle of P.E. and she’d leaked right through her skirt and it was obvious what had happened. Harry, who knew from his older sister Gemma, had been the one to go into the girl's bathroom after seeing her crying and talked to her as she refused to come out. He gave her his shorts and went to the school sick bay to find her some pads. 

Or maybe it was when she found Harry in her bed one night with red eyes cuddling her teddy bear, it was a weekend when her parents had left her alone, and Harry was stoned out of his mind speaking nonsense while reaching for her hand. He’d explained he needed a familiar face and that he found comfort in her room. She let him sleep there until the next morning.

Or maybe it was even when he flew her to Paris to see his show back in his One Direction days and they’d snuck champagne in a limo and he kissed her neck in a way that had her feeling so dizzy that she might fall.

Maybe her feelings had bloomed during the nights when he would ride to her house before the others, on his electric green-coloured bike, convincing her to sneak out with the rest of them and he’d bribe her with her favourite lollies and they’d all go sit on the roof of the school.

It could’ve been the night he scooped her into his arms at their school ball and danced with her until her feet gave out when her date had abandoned her.

She simply could not pinpoint when this had happened, but she thinks all along that she’d loved him, and been in love with him since that first day in mothers group when they were babies. 

She just never knew it had been this deeply until he left, again. It hurt everywhere. When she looked at this person in front of her it made no sense how he could be the boy who found her tooth, the boy who danced with her, the boy who kissed her, the boy who held her hand. How was this the same person? This man in front of her was not the person she’d thought.

“Well, the Harry I know would not have done this to me. I don’t understand you.”

“I just trying to pro-“

“Guys! Toast time!” Said Michael. Harry let go of her arm. 

Once again they were interrupted and Y/n wasn’t going to wait for another chance to escape. They went inside and Y/n flattened her hair which she was sure had fluffed up in the wind. Harry stayed close and began to whisper something which Y/n shushed and they walked into the room.

“Y/n! Speech!” Called Penny.

Y/n blushed under the attention. Grabbing her champagne, everyone tapped their glasses with their dessert spoon and soon all eyes were on her. She took a sip and began to think of what to say that wasn’t already in her Maid of Honour speech tomorrow.

“It has been an honour to know Daisy and James since preschool, it means I know all the juicy stuff! Like when he asked her to the school dance with an old boombox from his dad’s shed because Daisy explained she loved that film with John Cusack. In fact, it had actually been my idea, I was there holding him on my shoulders because he wanted to seem taller.” 

Everyone laughed and Y/n locked her eyes on the pair of them sitting together hand in hand.

“But in all seriousness, I have never met two people more perfect for each other. Daisy and James are like butter and bread. They make sense, they are solid, and they are unmovable. To you, it might be Sid and Nancy or Bonnie and Clyde or even Romeo and Juliet, but to me, it’s James and Daisy. They are love, they are what give me hope, and they are two of my very best friends. Congratulations, I am so thankful to be here to celebrate your love for each other. I love you both. Have a good night everyone!”

The night was smoother sailing from then on. It drew to around midnight, Daisy and James had both left earlier to go off and get a good night's sleep and Y/n was helping organise a bit of a cleanup of presents and other decorations she knew Daisy might want as mementos. 

She had thought everyone had left so when she heard the padding of shoes she was surprised and startled all at once. 

“Hi.” Harry slurred. “I know yeh’ don’t want to talk to me, but m’phone’s flat. Can I jus’ use yours ta’ call a taxi?”

Y/n had hired someone from the hotel to drive her back in twenty minutes and had already rung them up earlier to confirm it. “You can ride with me. The car will be here soon. Have some water.”

Even though she was boiling mad with him it didn’t matter, she would always help him. He listened curling up on the floor childishly and sipping some water. Y/n’s movements were slow and he could tell she was tired. 

They’d both made the journey today and had yet to see their rooms. Penny booked the rooms and organised everyone's roommates for the group, neither knew who they were with and hadn’t been to the Inn yet. When the car arrived Y/n realised how drunk Harry was and when he nearly slipped on the concrete steps she reached for him and instinctively he wrapped his arms around her shoulders as she helped him to the car.

She put him in first helping him flop into the spacey backseat and then joined him walking around the other side. As she opened the door his dark brown waves messily parted onto her seat, he was strewn out like a sunbaking lizard. She tried to make him sit up but he whined. His head shifted until it was on her thigh and she’d gotten in all the way. He stopped whining after that and let his head rest there on the silky material of her dress.

“M’ sorry.” He whispered. 

Y/n pretended she didn’t hear him, but let him rest his head. Drunk Harry was stubborn. They arrived quickly so she was thankful for it being close by she was losing her mind, as she helped him inside and walked to the front desk she asked who was under each room. Antsy to get him dropped off and finally have a chance for a moment to herself.

“Last names please?” Asked the lady at the front desk, she looked young, like a teenager, with very little interest in her job. She had a book flipped open on the desk that she had been reading when they came in.

“Styles and L/n.”

She handed them a key. “17.”

Y/n frowned. “Sorry?”

“You two are in the suite upstairs, 17.”

She was going to kill Penny. She huffed a sigh, thanking the girl before she grabbed a firmer hold of Harry’s waist. Her fingers accidentally brushed the bare skin of his hip and the only feeling she felt was regret. Why did they ruin everything? Even if the sex was great, she’d wished she’d never done it. It physically hurt her to be near him. She felt a bruising weight in her chest that ached deeply and burned her throat.

As she helped Harry up the steps she was thankful both of their bags were already in the rooms having been dropped off earlier. She opened the door with the key while balancing Harry against her, and as she slipped inside she thought it looked nice for the next two days and definitely worth the fee they were asking. The room had a balcony that overlooked the little river and garden outside, a nice luxurious ensuite. But overall it looked cosy, with a fireplace which would’ve been nice in winter, no air-con though, and…one bed.

Well fuck, she’d have to call housekeeping tomorrow and ask for them to put two beds in. 

Harry was too drunk to notice right away until Y/n placed him on the bed and helped him get his shoes off. 

“Didn’t know.” He tried to explain big hands resting on thighs, and despite it all, she remembered them on her body.

Y/n sighed and turned when he began to strip himself of his clothes. She grabbed one of the pillows off the bed and moved over to the small couch in front of the TV, she doubted she would be able to sleep. It was stinking hot, and she hadn’t slept much lately. Not to mention she would hardly be able to with him right there.

“Where are y’goin’?” He asked as she began to make a bed on the tiny couch.

Y/n didn’t look at him as she did so. “Couch.”

“Y/n we can share a bed. Don’t be silly.”

Y/n was tired and tipsy and her back hurt from the long train journey here. “Fine.”

It wasn’t like they hadn’t before and she would deal with all of this tomorrow. Anyway, would she rather not sleep on a couch or a comfy-looking bed? She knew her answer.

Harry had chosen to sleep naked, it was very warm in the room, and he curled up on the left side facing the bathroom. Y/n grabbed some small silky pyjamas from her suitcase. It was a thin singlet and shorts that would help her feel as naked as possible in this heat. She walked to the bathroom past Harry and began to wash her face with some cool water and combed her hair smoothing out any tangles, as she opened the door she decided she would plait it back so it didn’t stick to her skin.

Harry’s eyes were shut but she couldn’t tell if he was actually asleep or not. His breathing had slowed to a normal tempo and as she slid into the other side beside him the rumble of his voice startled her. 

“Cute pjs.”

She let out a huffed sigh and slapped her arms against the cool duvet. “Shut up.”

Y/n willed herself to sleep, counting until she got bored, and tried to do some deep breathing, but nothing was working the heat was too much. She felt like she’d been tossing and turning for centuries. Eventually, she kicked the duvet off and sat up, checking the alarm clock beside the bed. It was nearly three. Harry was fast asleep. She got up and walked onto the balcony, sitting down in one of the chairs they had out there as she let the evening breeze hit her. Though it was hot it was cooler outside. She supposed it didn’t help that Harry was like a fucking heater. He ran so hot and even without his arms wrapped around her he still radiated heat like the sun.

She knuckled her eyes pulling her knees up to her chest, resting her chin as she yawned; sleep felt close and far all at once. The breeze made her shut her eyes and she enjoyed the peaceful noise of frogs in the river, and crickets chirping, and let her thoughts melt away. When she opened her eyes she didn’t know if time had passed or not, and did not remember falling asleep.

She wondered what had woken her up, it wasn’t the sun, though the sun did not seem far from her. The sky was at that stage where it was a lighter blue than night, it was just a few minutes before the sun was going to bleed colours into the sky.

It wasn’t an alarm, it wasn’t day yet, and the wind was still gentle and cooling. 

“Wha’ are y’doin’ out here?” When her eyes finally focussed she realised it was Harry who had woken her up. His hand was pressed to her shoulder, and his face looked puffy and confused.

Y/n was too half asleep to get the words out of her mouth. 

“Just come inside.” He grabbed at her wrist pulling her up into his chest. He was still a bit drunk but his skin had begun to pale in sobriety and a deep sadness filled his face that Y/n wondered if was related to her, she hoped he hurt a little bit like she did.

His hand hovered over her waist and pushed her to the bed.

When they began to settle into bed, Y/n felt her limbs sinking into the soft mattress. Harry had turned the fan on higher and they both lay on their backs staring at the white ceiling. Her eyes were shutting on her.

“Can I hold you?” He whispered and she felt like it could’ve been her imagination.

Until he cut himself off he shifted back to look at the roof. “Sorry.”

Y/n didn’t know if it was because she didn’t get closure, because she missed him, or because she was sad, or simply because she slept better with him there, or even because she’d had a few too many but she rolled over and pressed her back into his chest.

“One last time.” She said before shutting her eyes. His arms wrapped around her tightly like he was worried she’d run away like earlier. His fingers danced patterns along her skin and Y/n fell asleep quickly, Harry did too. 

The next morning Harry’s warmth had disappeared and the room was empty. There was no water running he had disappeared and somehow managed to make the bed with her still in it.

Y/n didn’t know whether to be grateful or sad that he had left. She rolled over to the bedside table and saw the time was a few minutes to nine. She sat up scratching her hair and stood up walking to the bathroom she washed her face, put on some moisturiser and sunscreen and slipped into a pair of comfy loose pants and a singlet. She slid into the first pair of shoes she saw and walked off to hunt for some food, mainly just a coffee and something for her throbbing head. She needed an aspirin, now.

The Inn was so quaint it felt like she was in a weird family of hundreds of strangers, it felt like a home, not a hotel. She could smell bacon and followed the scent like a dog in a cartoon. She got herself a plate and a coffee and pinched a muffin too and decided she’d go sit outside. The sun always helped her hangovers.

She opened the door and stepped out onto the porch that wrapped around the whole house full of comfy chairs, rocking ones, swinging ones, padded ones, and benches. She walked down to the edge saw a little padded seat and sat herself down. She enjoyed breakfast, slowly biting and digesting, the wedding was tonight. Starting in the late afternoon. Y/n had a while to prepare herself. She needed to get a lot of things done considering she was the maid of honour.

She needed to make sure both her dress and Daisy’s were ready before tonight. Daisy’s dress was this vintage seventies flowing gown like something Stevie Nicks would wear, they found it in this dead lady's things that were being auctioned off. Y/n originally went because she always found good furniture at those kind of things and was in need of a new coffee table. Daisy just happened to have a free Sunday morning, and by luck they'd found the wedding dress. This lady was cool, with great taste in clothes and coffee tables. Y/n found a panther with a glass table top for her living room. She loved her new edition, it was as eccentric as she'd wanted.

Y/n’s dress was this paled yellow dress, seventies style too. All soft and layered. A floral wrap and some baby pink heels. She was going to do her hair in big rollers and put on some blue eye shadow. She’d found the dress in a vintage shop in Soho and just had to get it. It had this gorgeous white lace trimming and it was the perfect fit for her. How could she pass it up?

When she was up to the final dregs of her coffee she felt someone sit down beside her. 

“Sorry about last night.” That was all he said softly looking down at his feet.

She looked up from her legs. “Yeah, champagne.” She said, shrugging. As if to say 'What can you do?'.

He was in a running getup. He looked sombre at her, hands resting on his thighs hoping they could talk. But Y/n didn't seem interested in talking to him. He wished things could be different. He wanted to say that to her, explain. But without any alcohol or courage, he couldn't find the words.

“Gotta’ run.” She said before he could say anything else and all he could do was watch her retreat away. He let out a big sigh and stood up heading off to find James.

Later that afternoon Y/n saw Harry again. This time he was in a blue suit and they were walking down the aisle together. Their arms were interlocked and Y/n was holding a bouquet of lavender and baby's breath, they both said nothing just walked plastering smiles on their faces for everyone seated watching. Having him close to her again was intoxicating, he smelt all woodsy, and of fresh mint, tobacco, and burnt vanilla. He smelt like Harry, and she'd missed him. She tried not to pay attention to him and just be civil. They moved to their separate sides at the alter faced each other, eyes meeting for a moment.

Y/n honestly looked gorgeous. Like a painting that belonged in a museum.

James looked great too. He was in a white button-down and black flared slacks. His long hair was down in waves and his moustache was neater than usual, he looked excited. His energy rubbed off on everyone else and everyone was getting antsy to celebrate.

Y/n smiled across at James excitedly. Harry was patting his shoulder and the pair of them were giggling about something and it reminded Y/n of assembly during school. Those two always got them all in trouble for chatting during school, devils. When the piano began everyone silenced, it was a cover of 'Dreams' by Fleetwood Mac on the piano. Daisy's Uncle Jay was very talented on the piano and was playing it happily.

The venue was perfect all beautiful flowers and candles lit everywhere, and Daisy’s looked so so so beautiful. She looked so breathtaking that Y/n felt her eyes well up as she watched her best friend walk down the aisle. Daisy’s father Joe was walking alongside her. She was so happy for them.

As the ceremony began no one could keep their eyes off Daisy’s radiance and her dazzling smile.

James' voice was soft and broke as he cried happily. “I have loved you since before I could understand the concept. Thank you for being beautiful, funny, and just my gorgeous girl. I can’t wait to be with you for the rest of my life Daisy, and grow old with you. I am so lucky you want to be my wife."

Harry found his eyes wandering over to Y/n as James' words echoed through the hall. This whole celebration of love was making him awfully upset that he wasn’t with the person he loved today. He wasn’t able to hold her, kiss her, make love to her, make her laugh, make her mad, he wasn’t able to be by her side and pester her with his tickles and teasing. He’d missed Y/n so much, he’d tried getting in touch but knew it would all be a waste she didn't want to talk to him. 

He’d written a whole album about her for Christ's sake, he pined after and missed her more than he thought possible. Of course, he loved her there was no question about it. Selfishly he wanted her back, even if it meant they wouldn’t have privacy with the public. He’d loved her even last night when she’d been so rude and short with him. He wanted to scream it out. I LOVE YOU.

But when their eyes met and she looked at him like he was glass, right through him, he felt invisible and he found himself frowning and trying to focus back on the ceremony. She would never forgive him, would she?

The dinner and reception were hands down the best part of the evening. They’d popped champagne as the sun set and all the group began dancing together joyfully, enjoying mountains upon mountains of delicious food. It was like a Christmas dinner table fit for kings. Chickens, turkeys, fish, salads, lots of crispy potatoes, mashed ones, sweet treats, breads, everything your heart could desire. 

Daisy and James were so happy, giggling together and kissing sloppily as they cut the massive chocolate-layered cake. They stayed together the whole night, holding each other close and chatting away to everyone invited. 

Everyone was dancing and singing together on the dance floor. Y/n was spinning around laughing with Penny and Finn, and her Mum too. She was happy, it was the perfect celebration. Harry kept bumping into old friends, family, and everyone it felt like a reunion and being back to when he was a young teenager at his mum's New Year's parties. He danced too and had quite a few tequilas.

The night was completely wonderful. Full of fun and such a cosy wedding. 

It reminded him an awful lot of the first wedding he ever went to. His Mum's. 

Anne and Robin had announced their engagement a few months prior. It was a beautiful day then too, the second of June, he was nineteen at the time and Y/n was his date to the wedding. They’d come home from Uni for Summer break for a few weeks together, which they would have whether they had the wedding or not. The road trip was to get home but it didn't bother them at all, they just sang together taking turns driving and playing ‘I Spy’. Y/n had been invited on her own by invitation in the mail from Anne, but Harry said they should go together Y/n thought it made sense too.

“Don’t see why you didn’t ask Vanessa.” She said changing in the backseat while Harry covered his eyes with his hands for her privacy and blocked the window from over the car's back facing her. They were on the side of the road changing before the wedding. They’d driven home the morning of and needed to get ready there. They still had a bit of drive before they got there, but Y/n needed to do her hair and makeup in the car.

“Who?” He said. 

Y/n rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you don’t know your own girlfriend's name, H.”

He laughed, “Oh yeah, right. That Vanessa.”

Y/n tugged her dress up over her bra and stepped out of the car with the zip undone. “Can you do me up?”

He uncovered his eyes and his hands grazed her bare back, the dress showed a peak of her lacey pink undies. He swallowed thickly and zipped it up. “It's pretty, Love.”

She spun around and laughed at herself. It was very pink, but she thought this was the perfect time to wear it. 

“It’s not too pink?" She asked.

Her dress was this bright fuchsia colour with no straps, it was very 80s. Puffy bottom and it was short too.

He shook his head. “No, no such thing. Y’look beautiful.”

She kissed his cheek in thanks.

They got in the car and Y/n began to roll her hair up into some rollers and do her makeup. If you didn’t know them you’ve assumed they’d been dating for years with how in sync they were, and how comfortable they were around each other.

On the drive there Harry was staring off into the distance of the road. He looked gorgeous today, hair all unruly and dimples on his cheek.

“So why didn’t you invite her? Your girlfriend already hates me. She won’t be happy now.” She said applying a nude lip in the rearview.

“I didn’t want to be with her. I wanted to be with you.” He said looking over like it was the most casual thing to say.

Y/n’s heart swelled and she just looked at him. When they arrived Anne was waiting for them inside the church. Harry grabbed Y/n’s hand to guide her and they walked down the entrance their shoes clacking on the tiles. They found Anne with other members of Harry’s family and she rushed over looking picture-perfect. Kissing both of them on their cheeks in greeting, she'd missed them dearly. 

“You two look gorgeous! So glad you came together. Y/n, Love, your Mum’s inside already she’s antsy to see you both. The ceremony doesn’t start for a few more minutes.”

“Alright, see you out there.” Said Y/n giving her one last hug and Harry did the same whispering something before grabbing her hand once more because it felt natural as they walked into the venue. 

Y/n’s Mum spotted them and instantly waved them over. 

“Baby! Harry!” She called rushing over, she was in a nice floral dress that was blue and looked very dressed up. 

She grabbed them both. “Oh my goodness, the pair of you look just stunning! Harry, when are you going to steal Y/n up before someone else does?” 

Harry just laughed at Y/n's Mum in response knowing how much she tried to play Cupid over the years, Y/n rolled her eyes at her and Y/n’s mother stroked her cheek. “My gorgeous girl.”

After the ceremony the two of them had a few drinks and danced, being few of the only others their age who were actually willing to dance. Harry’s hands were on her waist twirling her about and she fell into his arms giggling. 

She hugged him close before they were both pulled away by relatives. Harry had to go speak with some of his cousins from out of town and Y/n was called over by James' older brother Jimmy about some story she needed to tell someone. 

When Harry finally finished talking to his family he searched the crowd for Y/n but her hot pink dress was nowhere to be spotted. He frowned stepping away from the room.

He went for a wander outside walking through the hallway and stepping outside into the fresh summer air. He spotted her sitting over by the steps that led down to a duck pond.

The gravel crunched underneath his Chelsea boots and she looked over smiling. “Hi, Harry.”

“Sneak away did ya’?”

She nodded. “You know me.”

She had a habit of disappearing at parties. He sat down beside her, their thighs pressing together as he nudged her. She nudged him back. 

“I love you, Babe, you know that?” He said, face crinkled in a smile that was specific just to when he was with her.

She looked over at him, chest aching. “I love you too.” She said softly resting her head on his shoulder he wrapped his arm around her shoulders pulling her close.

“Do you think we will be friends forever?” He asked out of the blue. 

No doubt in her voice, she replied instantly. “You and me, mate, we’re forever.”

The memory made his chest ache and he shut his eyes placing a hand on his heart hoping the sensation would stop soon. But when her laugh echoed from behind him, he knew he was fucked, totally and completely fucked.

As the evening grew later and a blanket of stars and black had swallowed the sky Harry found himself outside walking to a bench to hide away and have a moment to himself, he needed a breather. He’d had a few drinks that had made his knees wobbly as he walked, which is why he felt his brows furrow as he squinted staring ahead. What was that? Was his drunken eyes playing tricks on him? There was a lump that looked like a person lying on the grass. 

“‘Ello?” He called out. 

The lump rolled over and as he stepped closer he realised it was the familiar face of Y/n. His Y/n.

“Oh, Y/n.”

She made a grumble of a noise.

“Wha’ yeh’ doin’ down there?”

“Hiding.” She said.

He looked down at her. “From?”

“You.” She replied.

He sighed heavily. “How many more times am I gonna have ta’ say sorry before you forgive me?”

She sat up. “You give me fucking whiplash, Harry.”

“What? How?”

“First you want me, you're crazy about me. Even if it was just sex, can’t keep your hands off.” She started and Harry could tell she was drunk too, her lips were loose and she was saying anything she thought. 

“I’ve always wanted you.” He said.

She sat up on her knees. “See! You say shit like this, but then you just fucking left.”

He bit his lip looking down at his shoes. “I didn’t want to.”

She stood up. “What are talking about? You're a complete and utter mindfuck. Do you just like seeing me hurt, H?” Her hand fell to her chest like his had earlier. Did it hurt her physically too? To be apart?

He felt his eyes prick with tears and his chest burn with sadness. “‘Course I fucking don’t! I did it to protect you, Y/n.”

“Protect me?! From what, you?!” She raised her voice, hands going into her hair frustratedly pushing her hair back from her face. The air was so hot, crickets chirped in the grass, and she felt mosquitos biting her skin. 

“Don’t you see? Y/n, I’m not right for you. I won’t be able to protect you from them! I can’t do it to you.”

“Them? Who? Do what?” She said feeling her heartbeat speed up at the sight of his eyes watering. Did he actually feel sad about this? She was so fucking confused.

“Be with you…” She felt crushed by his words. “..the world…I can’t stop the hate. Paparazzi or tabloids. I won’t be able to provide you with a normal easy relationship, Y/n. I can’t put you through it. You deserve better. We won’t have any privacy. Surely you’ve seen everything people are saying.”

She sighed, “I don’t care about what people have to say about us, Harry! What do you? You clearly don’t want me, just say it. If you really did, you wouldn’t care what anyone else says. I don’t.”

“How could you even say that? Of course, I do!”

“That’s news to me.” She scoffed. The moonlight lit her face, and though she was acting strong he knew she was very sad.

“I thought you knew.” He said his voice breaking, eyes not once leaving her face.

“Knew what?” She looked at him.

“I love you.”  There it was. Out in the air. For her ears to hear. He'd said it. Not in a casual friend way, not when he was drunk and all lovey-dovey. He'd said it properly.

She stayed silent breathing deeply, staring right at him.

A beat passed. 

“Don’t do that…” She said tears slipping.

“Y/n, I thought you knew! I thought you knew from the minute I laid eyes on you. I thought you knew!” His hands flew out as he spoke with this urgency in his tone. 

How could she not know? He’d only ever had eyes for her. He didn’t care about any other person. He’d have dropped any of them for her no question asked. He could’ve been at his own wedding years from now and left at her call sprinting to wherever she was. He thinks no matter how many years pass he will always feel that way for her. No matter how much she hates him, no matter what. She’s the one with his heart in her hands.

“If I’d have known…” She didn’t finish her sentence trying to process what he was saying.

He stepped forward hands landing on her arms bending close to her face so they were eye to eye. She watched him closely as he desperately spoke. 

“I’ve loved you ever since I’ve known you, I can’t help it, everyone knows. I always thought you did too.”

His hand fell onto her cheek.

“Harry..” She began to cry. He wiped away her tears with his thumb.

“I never wanted you to be hurt. I never wanted any harm to come your way. And I’m so far from perfect, but I fucking love you. More than the entire universe around us. I’d give it all up for you. I would’ve when I was nine and I will when I’m 80. I’ll always love you. And I'm sorry I can't be perfect for you, but it won't change how much I love you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” She whispered looking up at him. His arms had wrapped around her back pulling her flush against him.

“Because I’m a daft fucking prick.”

And suddenly kissed him. Her lips landed on his hard pulling him down to her by his tie. She pulled away for a second to whisper against his lips. 

“Such a dickhead.” She uttered softly, the rough words sounded endearing, melting from her lips like honey.

“But your dickhead, hopefully.” He replied. 

She just kissed him very hard in response and he scooped her up into his arms, her legs wrapped around him and his wobbly knees buckled, the alcohol providing no help whatsoever, landing them both on the grassy field. Harry's back lying on the grass and Y/n sitting on his lap. 

She giggled. “I love you too by the way.”

“Phew.” He said and she looked down at him rolling her eyes at him. He was looking up at her all besotten.

“Those eyes.” 

“Only get like that for you.”

Then they kissed some more and probably would’ve until sunrise if not for the shout of their names to come inside. They ran through the field hand in hand, stumbling and laughing like idiots in love. Because that’s what they were.

[prairiesongserial]

epilogue 23

“- news out of the Foreign Office is -”

“- still on the mend, but not sure what our official story -”

Enis winced, removing his headset as both voices on the line dissolved into static and high-pitched feedback. He kicked off on the floor, propelling his wheeled desk chair out from his work station and towards the door. He stuck his head out into the hallway.

“Hamlin?” he called.

“Just a minute!” 

The voice came from a door at the end of the hall. It was shortly followed by its speaker; Hamlin was pulling on a metallic, multi-colored jacket as he walked, and offered Enis both a grin and the same sentiment he always did when Enis called for him.

“You can call me Dad, you know,” he said.

“I’m not doing that,” Enis replied, the same as he always did. Just because Hamlin was Johannes and Ezra’s father, and was generously letting Enis stay with him in New York while Enis laid low, that didn’t mean there was any familial relationship between them. They were work colleagues, if anything. “Can you juice the switchboard? It lost connection again.”

“Shouldn’t you be out on the town, or whatever boys your age do?” Hamlin asked, weaving around Enis as he entered the workroom.

“I’m eighteen,” Enis said.

“All the more reason you should be out having fun.” Hamlin had made a beeline for the far wall, with its mess of wires and control panels, placing his hands firmly on the dusty switchboard at their center.

“Wiretapping Hemisphere is how I have fun,” Enis said, scooting his chair back towards the desk. He peeked over Hamlin’s shoulder.

“And that’s why you’re part of the family,” Hamlin said. “Don’t get too close, it might short-circuit.”

An electric hum filled the room, and the air was suddenly so heavy with static electricity that Enis’s hair stood on end. He backed away accordingly. He still didn’t completely understand how Hamlin’s mutation worked, only that the man claimed to be able to communicate with electronics with his mind. His ability seemed to work on waves, so it was most useful with things like telephones and radio. Whatever it was he was doing came too much in handy for Enis to put any effort into disputing that claim.

Enis’s wiretapping operation was built mostly from the gutted parts of an old broadcasting station Hamlin’s underlings had shown him; he’d been tinkering around down here for weeks, but Hamlin was the only reason he could stay so consistently tapped into Central’s lines of communication. Enis had mostly built the thing in order to discern when it would be safe for the circus members hiding out in New York to show their faces out of state again, but he was learning plenty of interesting national secrets along the way.

“There,” Hamlin said, stepping back from the switchboard. “Give it a shot now.”

Enis resumed his usual position at the desk and slid his headphones on, unsurprised at the sound of two crystal-clear voices chatting without any idea that an eavesdropper was present. One of them was an operator whose voice he recognized by now; the other, he wasn’t sure. Maybe a coworker they were gossiping with.

“- ship up to Canada for the election, depending on who we’re putting in the race. Not that anyone knows who that’ll be yet.”

“Lady’s not running in it?”

“You think anyone wants her to? After that shitshow in Maine?”

“Yeah, but if she wants to, can they stop her?”

“Well, once the race starts -”

Enis reached for the switchboard with one hand and gave Hamlin a thumbs up with the other.

“It’s working,” he said aloud.

“Anything interesting on the lines today?” Hamlin asked.

“Just more about the election. Boring politics stuff. Everyone wants to know who’s going to be in the running for head of Hemisphere.”

Hamlin made a face. “They’re really getting rid of Lady? That’s a shame, she was refreshingly incompetent.”

“Sounds like she can still run.” Enis shrugged. “Not that anyone’d want her in the race. But I don’t see why she wouldn’t nominate herself just to try and save some face.”

“If nobody in Central’s trying to take her out before the race even starts, they must be confident they can beat her above board,” Hamlin said, and stretched his arms over his head. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Give your brother a call if you’ve got time and see if he and Judith plan on getting themselves down here for Rosh Hashanah.”

Enis made a noncommittal sort of noise in response as Hamlin left. It was the sort of errand he would have put off until later if he hadn’t seen a light towards the edge of the switchboard flicker to life–the light that meant a call had been patched through from Central to Judith’s house in Maine. Now that was interesting. May as well patch himself in as well to see who was calling.

Enis reached for the control panel to his left and flipped a couple of switches, abruptly tuning out of the Central operator’s conversation and into the one coming down the line in Maine. Immediately, Ezra’s voice filled his ears.

“- don’t know what you’re calling me for.”

“You’re the last one who saw Cody Allison and his friends,” said a voice Enis didn’t recognize.

“I saw them get on a boat and leave,” Ezra said. He already sounded like he was at the limit of what he could tolerate, even though the call couldn’t have been going for more than a minute. “You’re the head of Intelligence, shouldn’t you know all this already?”

Ah. The unfamiliar voice was one of Iris’s interpreters, most likely. Enis slid a notepad and pencil closer to him and prepared to take notes. It wasn’t often that he caught one of Iris’s calls, but they were usually very informative.

“Did you know the ship they boarded was headed to France?” Iris asked.

There was silence on the line for a long moment. Even Enis found himself holding his breath, pencil hovering over paper, as if he’d be found out for eavesdropping if he happened to react.

“...what?” Ezra managed.

“The ship that Cody Allison and his friends boarded made port in France last week. I have it on good intelligence that Mr. Allison and the rest of his entourage then crossed the border to England, blew up a subway tunnel, and went on the run from the authorities.”

“No–hold on, no,” Ezra said. “They were boarding a ship to Canada. They were supposed to be smuggled over the Canadian border.”

“And yet,” the interpreter said, “they’re currently the cause of an international incident that threatens to destabilize the English throne. I guess you don’t know how that happened?”

“Do I sound like I know?” Ezra asked. “And what do you care about the Queen of England, anyway?”

“That’s classified.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is.”

“Let me ask you one more time: are you sure you don’t know how four of Hemisphere’s most wanted ended up in Europe, or what they might be doing there?”

“Iris, I have nothing for you,” Ezra said. “And I won’t, ever. Stop calling.”

The line went silent for a long moment. Then Iris said, “Happy New Year, Ezra. Tell your brother I said hello.”

“Fine.” Ezra sighed. He sounded more tired than angry.

There was a click as one of the parties on the line disconnected.

“Iris says hello,” Ezra said, so pointedly it made Enis jump. “I assume you heard all of that.”

There was no way for Enis to respond unless he called Judith’s house directly–which he likely would later to debrief, despite the fact that Central Intelligence was probably tapping the line just as he was. He preferred a two-way conversation instead of letting his brother talk to white noise.

“You can tell Hamlin me and Mame will be down tomorrow for the holiday, by the way,” Ezra said. He didn’t wait for a response this time, and hung up shortly after; Enis could hear him mutter “fucking England?” to himself as he did.

23.13 || 24.1

[bridgyrose]

The plot of the show, but starring a fully graduated, adult Team RWBY.

Ruby smiled a bit as she flipped through the newest weapons magazine at the dust shop, humming to herself as she listened to her music. Even as a graduated huntress, she found herself pulled to anything that could give her potential ideas to upgrade Crescent Rose. Though, her music listening was cut short as she felt a tap on her shoulder and the sight of a goon frowning and motioning for her to take her headphones off. “Yes?” 

“Step away from the magazines,” the goon said roughly as he motioned to his weapon. “And dont make any trouble.” 

Ruby looked at the small gun at the goon’s hip and smirked a bit. “Are… you robbing me?” 

“Yes. Now step away-” 

In a flurry of rose petals, Ruby grabbed her folded up scythe and slammed it into the goon’s gut, throwing him to the window. With a quick look around, she pulled out her scroll and flashed her huntress license. “Stand down and leave. If you can do that, then we dont have to get the authorities involved.” 

As an answer, one of the goons smirked and shot at her scroll, cracking the screen. “Looks like we have a huntress to put down.” 

“Fine, the hard way it is.” 

Ruby took a breath and pocketed her scroll. Then, her body seemed to disintegrate into rose petals as she took a few steps forward. The goons all drew their weapons and carefully looked around for Ruby, one of them pointing his gun at the shopkeep. Without a sound, Ruby appeared behind the goon trying to hold the shopkeep hostage and slammed her scythe into him, sending him through the window. She slowly unfurled her scythe and looked around at the goons that were still outside while the couple stragglers inside started to make their way out. 

Roman groaned and tossed a cigarette on the ground, pointing his cane at Ruby. “Well dont just stand there, take her out!” 

A grin crossed Ruby’s lips as she launched herself at the goons and swung her scythe around, making sure to be careful to only hit them with the blunt side. Her eyes tracked every movement as she watched Roman rush off and climb a building with the grappling hook of his cane. Once the goons were dealt with, she made a quick glance to the shopkeep. “Think you’ll be alright if I go after him?” 

The shopkeep nodded. “I’ll be fine.” 

Ruby folded up her scythe and rushed after Roman once more, using her semblance to rush up the side of the building. She stopped at the rooftop just before Roman could jump off the edge and pointed her scythe at him. “Dont move another inch!” 

“You persistent huntresses…” Roman said as he fell backwards off the building. 

Ruby rushed over to stop him, only to stop in her tracks as she watched an airship level itself just above the rooftop with Roman standing at the cargo bay door. She raised her scythe once more and took a couple shots at him. 

Roman smirked and tossed a dust crystal at Ruby and pointed his own cane ait it, pulling the trigger as a small explosive left the end. “This is the end of the line for you, Red.” 

Ruby braced herself for impact as the dust crystal exploded just in front of her. Her eyes opened once the dust of the explosion cleared up to find Glynda behind her and the airship gone. A nervous smile crossed her lips as she looked up at Glynda. “Thanks.” 

Glynda frowned, dropped her semblance and grabbed Ruby’s ear, half dragging her as she pulled her along the rooftop. “I know you just graduated but do you realize how dangerous this was?!” 

“Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow!” Ruby finally managed to pull herself free from Glynda’s grip and rubbed her ear. “I was only doing what I was taught.” 

“I didnt teach you how to be reckless.” Glynda sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Did you ever think about the danger you were putting everyone around you in? There’s a reason we try to have huntsmen work in teams and not solo.” 

“Its not like I was looking for trouble, the shop just happened to be robbed while I was there.” 

“That’s not the point. You have a team, you should call for them when you need back up.” 

Ruby sighed and nodded, folding up her scythe and putting it away on her back. “You’re not only here just because of the robbery, are you?” 

Glynda shook her head and started to walk off. “Ozpin needs to see you and your team. I know you all just graduated, but the recent dust robberies and grimm movement have us concerned. We’d normally have other teams look into this, but since you and your team have a knack of getting into trouble anyway-” 

“-you’re hoping that we can stumble into a few answers, arent you?” 

“We are.” 

Ruby nodded and pulled out her scroll to text her team. “I’ll let them know. Have an idea where you want us to start looking?” 

“We want you to start with Beacon Academy. With the Vytal festival coming up, it seems like the most likely place for anything to go wrong.” 

“And… how do you want us to keep an eye out without turning up suspicion.” 

“As much as I hate the idea, Ozpin would like for you and your team to teach a few classes.” Glynda sighed. “Just… try not to cause any trouble. We dont need any repeats of last year.” 

Ruby nodded. “You can count on us.”

[aristobun]

JUDY ALLOWS HER PIERCING GAZE TO REST ON HIM as soon as he utters those dreadful words. She should’ve known the man she now called Dad wouldn’t actually change much, even if she was now living with him for a time while she found her own place. She was almost 22 after all, so rather than live out her early adult years with a parental figure, she wanted to branch out and get on her own two feet in life. Frank was not opposed to the idea—she figured as much. They had nothing in common besides the trait that annoyed both of them when presented by the other; that being unforgiving vulgarity, even at the most inappropriate times.

Frank doesn’t match the expression as she gets up to leave, but there is a crystal clear hint of regret in his eyes showing that he feels remorse for what he did to her mother. He feels that he could have treated her better, but at the same time it is very obvious that it probably wouldn’t have worked out either way because of the mess of a man he is, as well as the bullshit that he is also peddling. Judy questions if he really believes in all of that, but the doubt she feels moment later makes it quite obvious he probably does, else her mother wouldn’t have been treated so horribly, even if he didn’t realise the pain he caused her for so many years.

Her mother and Frank had only been together a few days as it was more of a fling for a good time than anything else, but the impact it had left on her mother, Tess, had been ongoing, and now she wasn’t around anymore. The resentment Judy felt did become clear to Frank almost immediately, regardless of the fact she accepted his surprising invite for her to stay with him a while until she got herself sorted. That hadn’t been at all the kind of thing she would have expected from him after many of the vile things her mother had informed her of. But, she didn’t have much of a choice in searching for him, though she was old enough now to take care of herself, she still wanted some kind of parent in the world who could at least be there.

Judy didn’t think she’d get much of that care or kindness from him one bit, but it was worth a shot. The first step to achieving that goal had already happened when he allowed her to stay - even without her encouraging it or asking herself. A bunch of awkward smiles had been shared, but it seemed Frank wasn’t fully capable of a complete shift in his personality because the first thing out of his mouth that morning was a derogatory and uncalled for remark about the skirt she was wearing. It may not drop down lower than her kneecaps but that did not mean he had to make such a rude comment about it. She was in no way put off as much as to change her outfit, but she let him know with her resulting absence from the kitchen that he should probably keep those things to himself in future.

‘ You’re such a piece of shit , Frank , ‘ is all she says, stumbling out of the room, her cardigan brushing against his arm as she walks by so closely to make a point of her anger. He’s quick to grab her own arm, however, stopping her in her tracks. ‘ What? are you really gonna give me crap about that? you know you’re full of so much bullshit, what’s the big surprise? ‘ she snaps.

Frank is taken back for a moment, his silence and the look on his face evident of his shock at her attitude toward him. He’s not used to people calling him out like that often, but if they’re sure of themselves enough to do so, he usually sets them right so they don’t do it again. This time, though, he doesn’t know if he can give much of a retort to his daughter, but he is still very pissed off that she would even dare. He is only familiar with all he says and does as being the last word; no one usually says a damn thing to him about any of it, but she just did.

‘ I don’t wanna see you for the rest of day , Judith , ‘ he says, a tensing in his jaw as the smug smile begins to fade. He trains his eyes on her own to watch for any further trouble she wants to cause, but she simply yanks her arm out of his grasp with a grunt before she opens her mouth one last time.

‘ Don’t call me that , Frank , you haven’t earned the privilege . It’s Judy to you , ‘ she hisses , stomping away and upstairs to the room he had offered her for the next few months, leaving him to mull over the incident between them .

[msookyspooky]

Sequels Suck

Part 8

word count: 4,707

You stared at Gale as her new cameraman directed his camera at you. You could see your dumbfounded expression reflecting off the black lens. 

Gale smiled with her hand behind her back. "How are you, YN?" 

You stared at her in disbelief. "...What do you want, Gale?" 

She smiled regardless, looking you up and down as she spoke. "Well, I was hoping I might get a few words with you." You went to turn around and you heard her ask. "YN, did you know the two defenseless college kids who were brutally murdered last night?" 

You looked over your shoulder. "...No." 

"Well, then maybe you have any idea who killed them? I heard you suspect Billy Loomis and Stu Macher may still be alive and on the run. What's your comment?" 

You were wide eyed at her dropping something like that, turning completely around to glare at her. It could make you look involved OR crazy! You guessed both were good in her eyes. Either one made you look bad and fed her views. 

"Where did you even hear that??" 

She just smiled that smug smile she was known for. She turned to her cameraman, microphone in hand. "Gale Weathers here at Windsor College with a familiar student from Woodsboro; YN-" 

You jerked her arm and hissed at her. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" 

She turned to you with self righteousness in her crystal eyes. "Just getting a statement from the final girl from the last murdering spree. What are the odds that she goes to the same college these two innocent victims attended. Within a week of her stay here too." She leaned forward to the side away from her camera, whispering in your ear. "If I were you, I'd make a statement so I don't look guilty-" 

You jerked away from her. "Fuck you, Gale!" 

Derek put a hand on your shoulder as Mickey and Halie tried talking you down. Gale smirked while holding up a finger. "Ah, ah, ah! You're on camera-" 

"Stop acting so damn high and mighty! As if you actually give a shit about the victims." 

She put on a show, voice loud and clear for the camera. "I do care. It's my job to get to the truth and the truth is that your actions led to Sidney Prescott not being saved 2 years ago. Do you have a statement to finally give after 2 years of silence?" 

"YN, she's baiting you." Halie whispered but you ignored her. You sneered at Gale, jerking out of Derek's hold as she stepped back. 

"Sidney? How dare you even mention her name! You want to talk about Sidney? The same girl you mentally tortured for your book about her mother's death the last few months of her life? You don't give a damn about anyone but yourself and your paycheck. You weren't even saving anyone so scratch the hero complex off your fucking pages. You were too stupid to even check the safety on the gun the first time! If it wasn't for me and Sidney, you wouldn't even be standing here right now! Because Billy would have shot you in the head on that porch if me and her hadn't distracted them in time!" 

Her smirk dropped. "Yes but I learned that safety fairly quickly and you stopped me from pulling the trigger before Billy Loomis stabbed Sidney Prescott in the chest...As for my first book; I was seeking the truth and I was right. Because of my investigation, an innocent man gained his freedom...Why did you prevent your friend from being stabbed by her psychotic boyfriend, YN? Do you still maintain innocence when two other survivors testified against you?" 

You clenched your fist and she stayed safely behind her cameraman. "...Two?" You shook your head. "I'm done. You already tainted my name with your book DESPITE being proven not involved by the police. Anything I say, you'll twist. No comment!" 

You went to walk away and heard her behind you. "YN, do you have anything to say about the rumor of your supposed affair with the killers?-" 

Without thinking, you instantly whipped backwards and backfisted her in the nose. She gasped as your knuckles slammed into her face as she fell backwards into her cameraman. 2 years of rage unfolding in that one hit. 

"I have plenty to say, you fucking cunt!-" You were on her, grabbing at her dress and readying your fist as she was trying to scramble away from you. Derek had to grab you and even that wasn't enough. You were almost in a black out with pent up rage as Mickey had to join. Both of them restraining you as Gale stumbled to get up. This woman tried to get you sent to prison. This woman claimed you were involved. Wrote your character in her book without your permission as a whore fucking the killers behind her best friends backs. This woman painted herself as a hero and neglected to mention what you or Randy did. You hated her. SHE was why you could never have a normal life ever again without death threats or glares your way. You didn't use the word often but bitch didn't seem good enough for what she had done to you.

You were being dragged away, both Mickey and Derek trying to talk you down as Gale looked genuinely shocked. You struggled against both guys holding you back as Gale held her nose. 

Hallie gave an elated grin and pointed to the cameraman. "Did you get that on film?" 

"Yes, I got that on film." He mocked as she laughed and gave a smug face to Gale on the ground. "Hope that didn't damage your new nose job you got last March." 

"Don't worry, honey. I can buy ten more!" Gale retorted at Hallie as you all left. She jerked her hand in a slicing motion towards her cameraman, Joel, to cut the film. 

You were shaking and breathing heavily with how enraged you were as you were forced to sit down on a bench. Derek put his hands on your shoulders and looked at you. "YN...She's not worth it." 

You glared at him, rolling your scarred shoulder with a hiss of pain after you jerked it trying to grab her. "Do you have ANY idea what she's put me through?! Do any of you?! If I beat the shit out of her it would be worth the mugshot!" 

Mickey shrugged. "I mean, go apeshit. Bbuuuuttt...She has a lot more leverage and money than you do. If she presses charges, you're fucked." 

Hallie sat beside you, trying to grab your hand as you squeezed till it probably hurt. She didn't seem to care. "YN, he's right. You need to calm down...That was a damn good shot, by the way." 

"Yeah and calling Gale Weathers the big C? Holy crap that was awesome…" Mickey's face fell. "...SHIT! I didn't get that on video!...Damn." 

Derek gave him a slight glare. "It's for the best. YN doesn't need that hanging over her head anymore than this-" 

You couldn't help giving a snort of bitter laughter. "Please, Gale was mortified that so many news channels got Sidney knocking her lights out on film back in Highschool. After these nude photos circulated recently, she's gonna be deleting all of that." You motioned to where you all were last. 

You were slowly calming down as you saw Gale storm away with Joel on her heels. Running into Dewey down near the main building. You saw he was glaring at her and saying something to her. You hoped he stayed away from her. You couldn't tell a grown man what to do but from what you heard, she painted him out to be a bumbling rookie cop throughout the book. He was probably just as standoffish with her as you were.

'At least I'm not the only one with her on my shit list.' You took a few deep breaths before your eyes narrowed at a thought. 'Two?....Dewey testified in my favor so that means?-....Randy.' 

You shot up from the bench as your new friends looked confused. You were practically stalking to where you saw him trying to listen to a few media buffs; Not even seeing what happened between you and Gale. Mickey called out to Randy as you all came towards him.  

"Meek! You missed it! YN kicked Gale Weathers freakin ass! AND called her something that would make this a rated R flick! It was the best thing I've seen all week!" He let out a laugh at that as Randy blinked in surprise.

He turned to you with a smirk. "What happened to not being a dog and needing me to stop you? Do you need a muzzle or wha-..." His sentence faded as you gave him a glare you knew was enough to get your point across. 

"...YN? Uh, why are you looking at me like that?" Randy nervously chuckled as the other three stood beside you both. Looking between each other in confusion.

You shook your head in disgust as betrayal twisted your stomach. "...You sold me out, Ray." 

"What?!" He exclaimed as you turned away. He chased after you, grabbing your sleeve and forcing you to look at him. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

"The interview, Meek. You testified against me to Gale!" 

His mouth hung open as he looked lost for words. "....Oooohhhhhh shit." He mumbled under his breath. "Now, YN! Listen-" It was all you needed to know it was true. A bitter smirk played on your lips as you interrupted him. "Don't bother, Randy. If I knew you fucking did that, I wouldn't have even bothered making amends with your ass." 

"HEY!" He yelled, quickly jumping in front of you as went to stalk away once again. "WWWOAAAHH! Hold the fucking phone! I never went against you like that!" 

You scoffed loudly and rolled your eyes.  "Really?! Because the shit in her book says otherwise!" 

Suddenly realizing eyes were on you both from yelling at each other in the yard. Randy gave you a look. "YN, I will explain if you just calm down and talk to me…Can you at least give me that?" 

You folded your arms, biting your inner cheek before mumbling. "Fine...But not here. In private." You started walking as he followed and your new friend group stayed behind giving each other glances before talking. You dragged him to a building and down a hallway until you felt you both were alone. You threw up your hands before wincing. Rubbing your left shoulder before mumbling to him. "Alright. Talk." 

He groaned and ran a hand through his spiked hair. "YN...I swear on my mom's life I did not go up to Gale Weathers and say 'Hey, I hate this girl. I'm going to tell you she was a murderer and ruin her life'." He mocked while leaning against the wall.

"That doesn't matter, Ray! You still told her that I was involved." 

"I did fucking not! Are you gonna believe GALE over me?" 

"Did you or did you not talk to Gale about me? Yes or no?" 

He hesitated, nibbling at his bottom lip before he forced air out of his mouth. "...Yes." You felt a pain in your chest and he instantly held up a hand at whatever expression you must have been giving him. "But it's not what you think!" 

"Then explain yourself!" 

"I'm trying if you would let me!" He paced, walking in front of you and staring at the ceiling. "Gale side swiped me, okay? It was the day after I left the hospital. I was on heavy pain meds, was overwhelmed with grief, she cornered me and asked a bunch of questions I don't even remember. I told her you stabbed me in order to trick Billy and Stu and she ran with it." 

You took a moment to mull over his explanation before you shook your head. "...I don't believe it." He looked surprised as you ranted. "I don't believe she wrote what she did based on just that. You said something else to her to write an entire book on me being the villain! So what was it, Randy? Did you tell her about me walking home with Billy? Did you tell her about Stu hugging all over me? Did you paint me out to be a backstabber? Or a fucking murderer? What did you say?!" 

He spat out. "I made an off hand comment to her that Stu and Billy had a crush on you, alright?! It was a slip of the tongue!"

"A slip?! You don't fuckin slip and say that!"

"Well, I did! I told her they had a weird obsessive crush on you, okay!? And that…" He looked away, swallowing hard before releasing a loud sigh. "...And that you saved them because you... Probably did too." He cringed at the last part. 

You stared at him long and hard, shaking your head with your stomach twisting in knots. "Why?...Why would you do that to me? Do you know what that did to me!? I was labeled the backstabber sleeping with the murderers because of you!....Why!?" 

"Because at the time, I was majorly pissed!" He walked up to you and it seemed he was finally letting it all out. Smacking his hand with every word to emphasize his point. "I was god damned pissed, and hurt, and lost! I was so fucking devastated that I told her whatever would get her to leave me alone and let me wallow in my own misery, OKAY?!" 

Your throat was burning. "And what about my misery, Ray? Did you think of me at all?!" 

He smacked his pant leg in exasperation.  "Yeah...Yeah, I fucking thought of you plenty. At the time, I questioned every single day...Why did she do that? Why? Why would she choose him to save?...I was heartbroken!" 

You gave a bitter laugh at that. "Oh, you were heartbroken. As if I wasn't?! As if Dewey wasn't?! Dewey lost his baby sister! I lost FOUR best friends and was caught in the middle!...You lost Sidney, Randy! Okay? You lost Sid!" 

He snapped at you, louder than you ever heard him yell. "I LOST YOU TOO! DON'T YOU GET THAT?!" 

You stared at him as his blue eyes glistened and his face contorted in anger. "That day, I lost her and I lost you. I lost two girls I-" He trailed off. Swallowing hard and mumbling. "I lost you too, alright." 

You scrunched your face in confusion. "You didn't lose me; you pushed me away! I lost every single friend I had without a choice! You had a damn choice!" 

He frowned and shook his head to himself.  "Yeah, no shit...I did push you away. Only because I thought I mentally lost you. I thought you weren't the friend I had anymore. I felt like you took everything away from me and I didn't understand why...Now, I do. You loved those two nutty fucks. You chose them over-" 

You snapped at him, pointing at him and yelling out "Don't you EVEN go there! You sound like Gale!" 

He scoffed. "You're right, you didn't choose them over anyone...But you did love them, you even admitted it. In the same way I loved Sidney. I did forgive you but I'm still hurt, okay?!" 

"Because you don't get it out!" 

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, shrink. You're hanging out with Hallie too much." 

"No, stop deflecting. That RIGHT THERE is the problem!" You bit your lip, debating whether to say it before it came out. "You could have had Sid if you just stopped and asked her out instead of being a pansy about it and waiting for the 'right moment'. You could have picked up the phone, found my name in the yellow pages and called me to apologize and we could have been having this dumb conversation ages ago. You could have told me the other night on the shed what you did or got this out...Now, you're doing it with these murders!" 

"Is it a crime to not want to go through hell again?! I don't want to relive that. I didn't want to bring up old wounds when it's been 2 years since I saw you...And Sid-...Just don't even bring up my non-existent love life, okay?" 

He sighed heavily, folding his arms and looking up at the ceiling as you continued. "...Ray, you can't keep bottling things up. I just wish...I know you'll never fully forgive me no matter how much you act like you will. I can't blame you, some things aren't forgivable...I just didn't know you were that enraged with me that you would say that..."

He looked back at you and his face fell. Both of you looked at each other as both of you completely lost whatever anger you both had. 

 "YN... I'm sorry. I'm not being fair right now and I was being a jerk back then too. I'll admit that. What I did was wrong and I didn't really even mean to say it, it really did just... Slip out!... I do forgive you. Really, I do...I guess I feel guilty as hell right now and I'm..Deflecting." He mumbled with an eye roll to himself. 

He looked back at you with guilt all over his face."I never fucking wanted this. I never wanted to paint you out the way Gale did. You may have made a bad choice about those two but you would never purposely kill Tatum or Sid. I saw the pain in your eyes; you were just as devastated as I was. I'm not suggesting that for a second and don't you ever think I intentionally did." 

He swallowed, looking away from you and shrugging. "Maybe I would do the same thing for Sid? If she was the killer and she was going to be shot…" 

You bit your lip, staring intently at him. "Even if it was between me or her?" 

He shot his face back up to look at you in surprise. His eyes still glistened under the light and a vulnerable expression on his face. You continued. "You didn't really like Tatum or Billy that much, you tolerated Stu...But if Sid was the killer and she was going to stab me...Would you have stopped Gale?" 

"I-" The words died on his tongue as his face twisted in discomfort. "I really...Don't know?" 

You frowned deeply but gave him a knowing look. "Yeah, now you get it. That's where I was. I wanted jail, I wanted them to get help...I didn't want anyone to die!...If I had it to do all over again, If I could go back in time...Maybe I would have let Billy die? Because as much as I cared, he clearly didn't return that caring for me. Not enough.... Now, my life is forever fucked up and my best friend's dead because of my actions." You swallowed the lump in your throat and blinked as Randy's brows turned up and he frowned as well.

"YN, I don't know what to say other than I'm sorry...I never wanted this to happen to you. I tried convincing myself Gale got the whole 'you and those two jerks were lovers' bullshit from rumors...But when I read page 87, I knew she got it from what I said. The guilt ate away at me ever since but I was praying to God you wouldn't find out." 

"Why not just tell me?" 

He raised his brows at you. "Uuhhh, you're seriously asking that after hitting Gale and looking like you wanted to rip my head off 5 minutes ago?" 

He tried to joke but you didn't smile. You just stared at him. He dropped his smirk, looking like he was struggling with himself before saying whatever was on his mind.

"...You're right. I should have asked Sid. I never really tried. I deflect and hide and run away. And that needs to stop… In fact, YN?" 

"Yeah?" 

He stared at you, hesitating before cringing to himself and mumbling. "...I'm sorry." 

You finally let out a sigh and shook your head. "What's done is done. I'm just glad you owned up to it." You reached out and hugged him. He seemed to melt against you, a ragged breath escaping him. "Ray, we both are in shitty situations." 

"Tell me about it. I'm given the role of a desperate wimp and you were given the role of a twisted traitorous slut...No offense." 

You chuckled against him. "None taken...But it's not just that. I know you don't want to face it but you can't hide your head in the sand. The killer or killers are back." 

"It's not Billy and Stu-" 

"It is. Randy, Dewey just told me the backdoor was open in the Macher house. They had footprints going outside but it was a dead end." 

"That doesn't prove anything." 

You rolled your eyes as you released him from the hug, still in arms reach. "Regardless, I want you to know that I'm not on their team. I never truly was and never will be. We're both on the same team now with Dewey...We're going to get them and fucking end this." 

You parted completely and realized he didn't want to let go, his hand grazing your arms as you pulled away. He finally did and you both stared at one another. Barely any distance between you two. 

"Well...We should probably get back out there before Hallie comes looking for me. Ya know, murderer on the loose and all." 

He bit his lip. "Actually, YN?"

You raised a briw and smiled. "Yes?"

"I-...I wanted to tell you..."

You waited, staring at him with a small smile. "Ray?"

"If uh....If you wanted to go to the martini mixer....Together or something?" He cringed at himself and you grinned at him.

"Together like last night with bowling? Like as a plus one or friends or?"

"Yeaaaahhhh...Yeah. No...Fuck!" He rubbed his temple and you waited. What Hallie had been teasing you about filtered in your mind and you dropped your smile in realization. You had butterflies in your stomach but you didn't know if that was nerves or excitement or fear. You had never thought of him that way until arriving at Windsor and even then you wondered if it was just gratitude at having a friend back. THEN there was the fear of ruining a friendship you just got back. THEN there was Derek and whatever that was.

Watching him struggle was painfully awkward and you panicked yourself. You didn't know how to feel if she was right and he really did have a crush on you. You decided to save both of your asses before someone got hurt or it became unbearable. "Sure! We can go together."

He looked back at you with wide eyes. "As...Friends?"

You nodded furiously. "Sure! I mean, did you think I was going without you?"

He looked like he wanted to protest or say more but nodded with a forced smile. "Okay, sure. Great. I'll swing by your dorm later. For now, let's get back before they send a search party."

You both didn't see the figure down the hall watching you from an empty classroom.

——————————————————–———

Dewey had watched what happened between you and Gale. Grimacing when he heard what you said and saw your fist hit Gale right in the face. And yet, he didn't intervene or feel any anger towards you...No, all his anger was towards Gale. He watched her get up, clutching her nose and marching towards where he stood before she stopped dead in her tracks and looked at him.

"Dewey. What are you doing here?" 

"Why don't you just leave her alone? Haven't you done enough damage to the poor kid?...And my name is Dwight." He emphasized. 

Her face fell. "I'm just doing my job...Dwight." She gave a smile, hoping he would smile back but he simply stared at her. 

"Did you sign away your conscience with that book deal or did you never have one to begin with?" 

"Hey!" He walked away and she chased after him. "Who got punched here?....Again!" 

"Well, I don't condone violence but maybe you deserved it." She stopped to look at him as he continued. "YN was not involved and you are framing an innocent girl who's barely even a woman yet and has to deal with coming into adulthood just to have you looming over her with your lying book." She scoffed and gently rolled her eyes. Dewey added. "I was there trying to help her. We both were going to take down those two and I screwed up by...Getting side tracked with you." 

She smiled at the memory. "I remember. It was a fun distraction while it lasted…" She went to touch his arm and he jerked it away. She gave him a serious look. "Dewey, there is more evidence she was involved than not. I saw it with my own eyes. Think of Tatum-" 

"NO, do NOT bring up my little sister!! You don't have the right!" He yelled. Raising his voice more than he expected before clearly his throat in embarrassment at his own anger. 

"I'm sorry." She mumbled, eyes wide at the tone he used. 

His lips twisted as he glared at her. "You didn't  see anything but dollar signs! And billboards, and book signings, and Gale Weathers being hailed as a hero! Because according to your book, you single handedly did it all. The bumbling rookie cop didn't do anything." He stumbled away again as she followed him. "Look at the tape, Gale...The very ILLEGAL tape you planted at the Macher house. It showed YN was trying to stop them the entire time." 

 "Dewey, Dwight, Whatever! Stop-" 

He turned to her with a glare. "What you did to Sidney was bad enough but this is heartless."

"Urgh, don't remind me of that. Cotton has been ringing my phone off the hook wanting his next ten minutes of fame. I don't have any use for him with Sidney Prescott gone." 

He shook his head in disgust. "God, you're...I don't even have a word!" She looked taken aback as he kept walking. "That book is nothing but a false narrative painting people out to be something they're not. You're hurting people, Gale!" 

She scoffed with an eye roll and Dewey sneered at her before blurting it out. "Not just YN!.... Page 32: Deputy Dewey filled the room with his Barney Fife-ish presence." He stopped to look at her and she did the same. 

"...You read my book?" 

"Yes, I do read Miss Weathers." 

She rolled her eyes. "Dewey, don't take it so seriously! It's a character in a book-" 

"With real people and real consequences!" She tilted her head with a tight frown as his eyes lit up in anger and he continued. "Page 41: Deputy Dewey oozed with inexperience." He tightened his jaw with hurt in his eyes as she smiled up at him softly. Her entire demeanor changed whenever she was around him but he refused to believe in it as anything but an act ever again.

 "Don't you think you're overreacting just a little bit?" 

"Don't you think you're hyping yourself up just a little bit? Page 124: Gale Weathers, despite everything she went through, confronted the crazed killer. Aiming the gun to single handedly end the horror story...SINGLE HANDEDLY."  He scoffed in disgust as she stared at him. "You are a money hungry, fame seeking, relentless woman that has a cold storage shed where her heart should be." He growled out with a bitter tone. 

Gale was silent a moment before quickly turning to him. "Dewey, I never meant to imply-" 

He whipped towards her. "How do you know my dimwitted experience isn't merely a subtle form of manipulation used to lower people's expectations thereby enhancing my ability to maneuver within any given situation?!" He ranted as she stared up at him. Eyes twinkling up at him with a smile as his heart hammered but ached all at once. 

"...I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say except...I'm sorry." She went to touch his face and he jerked away. 

"NO. You used me, you are continuing to hurt my deceased sister's best friend and you are just plain out!-" He frowned, heart aching as he released a heavy sigh. "I'm the one that's sorry...I misjudged you." 

Her face fell at that. "Now, if you'll excuse me,  I have some oozing to do." He went to walk away but couldn't help getting in one last dig. "One more thing; nice streaks." Giving her a look before snubbing her and leaving. Gale huffed to herself as she watched him leave. 

"Well." She huffed and walked away as well.

[pedrito-friskito]

✨kay’s ultimate pedro ranking✨

ok ok ok ok @mandosmistress did this a while back (like a few days lmao what is time) and tagged me and I HAVE BEEN T H I N K I N G let me tell you.

so without further ado, under the cut is my (not so definitive) pedro pascal character ranking…..! (based mainly on attraction/how much I enjoy writing them)

FRANKIE MORALES. frankie. frankie frankie frankie. my man. sunshine of my life (haha see what I did there). there is just something about this character that really crawled into my chest, wrapped himself around my heart and said ”hi I live here now” and I’m cool with it. handsome in that rugged way, a little bit damaged, and good with his hands? done. hook, line, and sinker.

DIN DJARIN. oh the sweet soft-spoken tin can space man. in all honesty, him and Frankie fight for the top spot on a daily basis and sometimes the beskar-covered bounty hunter wins, and he truly was my pedro gateway drug so he’s gotta be high on my list.

JAVIER PEÑA. ohhhhhh mama I love me some Javi. (do I mainly blame my gargantuan crush on @the-ginger-hedge-witch and her brilliant Crush series YES AS A MATTER OF FACT I DO) something about those tight fuckin’ jeans and the stache and the aviators like yep honey take me I’m yours

JAVIER GUTIERREZ. sunshine baby angel too good for this world I just wanna give him a little kiss and carry him around in my pocket and make sure no harm every comes to him (no I haven’t written anything for him yet but I been thinkin’ thots okay)

DIETER BRAVO. ✨the trash man✨ another one I just wanna carry around in my pocket, also the hair does things for me (same with Javi G) like just let me run my fingers through it and I’ll die a happy gal. questionable life choices maybe, but we’ve all been there, right?

OBERYN MARTELL. oh my HEART. *cue adele* we could have had it AAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLL. I would say spoilers but it was legitimately 8 years ago but he was so CLOSE and then so SQUISHED. tbh oberyn is the most intimidating to me to even think of writing but maybe someday….

MARCUS PIKE. I do really like Marcus. cheesy as hell? check. bit overboard sometimes? double check. BUT I really like the history of the character we got in limited scenes AND I have a fic idea for him I’ve been sitting on FOREVER and I def have to use it soon!

PERO TOVAR. okay I love me a grungy fantasy man okay like that’s my bread and butter. add in the grouchiness and the obvious way to his heart through his stomach? it’s go time, baby, I got plans for him too!

JACK DANIELS. oh darlin’, he hits the middle of my list for the sole reason that pedro and that whip awoken something in me that hasn’t shut up since I watched that movie and if you don’t think I’ve watched that clip where he pushes his jacket back and it’s a crystal-clear shot of his ass you are WRONG

EZRA PROSPECT. fits the grungy, violent thing pedro seems to work with half the time, and honestly, the linguistics of this man make my head spin (the main reason I haven’t written much for him because it’s a looooot of effort to try and think up dialogue for him!!!) BUT I do love that little moon-touched spot and the scar and the smile and just ugh yum

THE THIEF. full disclosure: I haven’t read a lot of fics about the thief (if anyone has recs let me at ‘em) buuuuuut I really like the whole vibe he has and the outfit? spectacular.

MARCUS MORENO. the glasses definitely do it for me but idk something about him I just…meh. have definitely read some fab fics about daddy moreno (maybe I’ll revisit him at some point). still hot, still delicious, just not my number one fav.

MAX PHILLIPS. maybe not the biggest asshole pedro’s played but definitely up there? I sat through the movie just for him, honestly the scene of him on the couch made it worth it and the smarminess is something else, but idk if I could ever write him! (kudos to all that do!)

DAVE YORK. ok ok ok ok OKAYYYYYYY. listen. he’s the baddie (and like a really bad baddie) so I gotta put him low on my list as far as attraction goes (plus I have mixed emotions about P without facial hair but I digress…) BUT I do have ideas. they are on the horizon. keep your eyes OPEN.

MAX LORD. I haven’t even watched wonder woman 1984 and I know he needs to be down here. maybe I’ll get some form of intoxicated this weekend and power through it, just for shits and giggles!

well KUDOS if you made it this far, this was actually so fun to do!

tagging a few pals just because, no pressure 😇

@prolix-yuy @pedropascalsx @mandoblowmybackout @mindidjarin @allfoolsinluv @iamskyereads and obvi anyone else who wants to play!!!

[221bshrlocked]

Be My Enemy, Be My Remedy

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Words: 9647 (again, I wish I was sorry but I’m not)

Warnings: Angst and Smut. Rough sex. Breeding kink (sorry not sorry). Touch “kink” due to touch starvation.

Summary: You couldn’t really consider him as a friend, not because you didn’t want him to be but because he never gave you any inclinations for wanting to change your little “happy-hunting” arrangement, whatever that even was. So, that left you as partners...at best. But a mission gone wrong forces the Mandalorian to reevaluate his relationship with you, finally realizing you were not his enemy but the complete opposite.

A/N: Fasten your seatbelts ladies and gentlemen, here is the second Mando fic. I seem to be incapable of writing Smut without Angst, I don’t know why. Please let me know how I’m doing in the comments and how I can improve. Thank you!! Some quick notes: Beskad is a Mandalorian Sword and the Whistling Bird releases small guided munitions from the vambrace (forearm brace). I planned on including some *whispers* weapon porn but I got sidetracked and so expect some beskad and glove smut in the next fic enshallah.

For a bounty hunter who prided himself in never getting distracted from the hunting trade, the Mandalorian sure was preoccupied by the crystal spires reaching farther than the eye could see. You couldn’t blame him though, Christophsis was among the most exquisite of planets and not just those belonging to the Savareen sector. You followed behind and continued to glance next to you to make sure the crib was floating nearby. 

“Where are you you doshing little shabuir? I know you’re around here somewhere.” You whispered to yourself as you kept moving away from the busyness of the noisy bazaar, hoping to the maker that the child wouldn’t wake up from the sharp calls of drunkards and sellers arguing over horribly brewed spotchka. 

“Hey, told you to watch your language around the kid.” The Mandalorian hissed at you from ahead, turning his head slightly towards your narrowed eyes and glaring at you through the visor. Or at least that’s what you thought he was doing. With the way he was currently moving through the quieter streets, you knew he was definitely not happy with where the three of you ended up, let alone your lack of respect for his ‘parenting’ methods. 

“Relax big guy, he’s in his crib dreaming of all the frogs his soft little heart wishes he could eat. Besides, you told me I need to practice my Mando’a.” You motioned towards the crib and rolled your eyes at him, raising an eyebrow when you saw the minuscule shake of his helmet before he looked down at the tracking fob.

“Not around the kid…” You couldn’t help but chuckle at his response because he just had to always get the last word in. Mando hoped his rough response would distract you from the way his body seemed to react to being called ‘big guy.’ He knew what you were referring to and yet he felt goosebumps erupt on his strictly covered skin at the thought of you saying those specific words but under different circumstances. 

“Waadar Ke'sush'.” He hissed more to himself than you and didn’t bother to respond when you asked him what those words meant. 

As you made your way towards the skirts of the town, you felt a pair of eyes boring into your neck and knew instantly the quarry must have known you were here. And you knew the Mandalorian could sense his presence as well when he placed the tracking fob back into his pocket and trailed his hands down to the blaster on his hip. You wished you could ask him why he continued to walk towards the forest but knew better than to question his methods. Any conversation held between the two of you might spook the bounty and the last thing you needed was to make a scene on a planet you weren’t that fond of being on to begin with. 

But it was getting a tad bit annoying once you were far enough past the trees and the Mandalorian continued to walk through the brightly-colored plants. 

“Shouldn’t we-” Before you could finish the question, Mando was turning around and shooting at a large tree not twenty feet behind you. You pushed the crib out of the way before taking out the beskad as well, squinting your eyes to try and see where the wanted Rodian was. 

“Dank farrik!” You swore when you realized the Mandalorian was more likely to get a better shot than you because of the heat-sensors in his helmet. You felt useless, torn between shooting wherever he was and making sure the kid wasn’t harmed in the crossfire. 

“Watch out,” it took you a second too late to realize that Mando was yelling at you and you fell backwards as one of the beams roughly grazed your thigh. As you attempted to wrap a band around the wound, you heard the familiar sound of the crib opening and before you could do anything, the child was already approaching you, his eyes filled with worry as he stretched out his little hand and shut his eyes. 

“Oh no you don’t,” you put the hand down and make quick work of the wound, about to stand up and put the kid back into his crib. 

“Haar'chak,” you looked up as soon as you heard the Mandalorian swear at the top of his lungs, the vocoder not hiding his anger and causing you to lose your equilibrium for a split moment. This was not the time to dwell on the effects his voice had on you or the fact that he was angry at you getting hurt. You wished to dwell on the latter thought for a little bit longer but shook your head to clear the haze his voice placed you under. 

Putting the sharp Mandalorian weapon back into the holster, you realized you were of no use to the Mandalorian now that you were compromised, deciding to make sure the child was safe instead of running after the Rodian with him. But that plan was gone as soon as it came once you looked down and realized why the Mandalorian swore. 

The kid wasn’t next to you. 

In fact, he was nowhere near you.

Turning around, you saw the bounty holding the child against his chest, a knife in one hand and a blaster aimed at the little one’s head in the other. 

“Wait,” you held out your hands against your partner and the quarry, refusing to let anything happen to the kid because of some stupid bounty. And as hard as you tried to dismiss it, you felt hurt at knowing that the Mandalorian was angry because the kid was taken and not because you were hurt. 

“You’re getting soft Mandalorian,” the bounty, Tig Bayantik, smiled as he taunted the man behind you and you hoped he wouldn’t do anything stupid. 

“Let him go,” the growl that emitted from the vocoder could have brought you to your knees under other circumstances, and you turned to look at Mando before returning your focus on the kid. Your heart broke at the thought of him getting hurt because of one simple and stupid mistake you made. A mistake that should cost you your life and not his or his father’s.

“Alright alright, everyone just calm down.” You forced a smile and kept your hands in Tig’s eyesight so he wouldn’t misinterpret your movements. “Let’s solve this like the rational adults we are. Tig, what do you want...besides us not coming after you?” You raised your eyebrows at him, hoping to steer the conversation your way until you trapped him with an offer. An offer you were most definitely going to regret as soon as it left your lips. But there was no other option. The last thing you expected was for something like this to happen. The child was only ever in dangerous situations when one of you was caring for him, never when the two of you were around. This was not ideal and you hated what you were willing to do to ensure his safety. 

“Simple, your chain code for the kid.” He pointed at Mando and smiled when he noticed him shift uncomfortably. 

“Why?” The Mandalorian hissed his question and you sighed annoyingly because since when did he ever question anything that had to do with the little womp rat. 

“Since when do you ask questions Mandalorian?” Tig screamed and held the kid too tightly to your liking, causing you to lean forwards when you heard him cooing and moving his little hands towards you.

“Alright,” hoping he would follow your lead, you reluctantly took the beskad out of its holster and threw it at Mando, ignoring the obvious discomfort shedding off of him. As you asked him to give you the tracking fob, the Mandalorian thought of ten different ways where this could go from bad to worse now that you gave him the main weapon you had on you. He titled his head to the side when you asked him for the tracking fob and reluctantly threw it at you, watching in annoyance as you dropped it to the floor and stomped on it twice until it broke beneath your feet. 

“I’ll do you one better, me for the little womp rat who couldn’t stay in his fucking crib a second longer.” You could see Mando’s little head tilt from your peripheral vision and weren’t sure if it was because he hated that you swore in front of the kid again or because he was most certainly not going to follow along with the sharade and considered the idea incredibly idiotic. Before he could say anything, you took a few steps forward, hands aimed towards the turquoise skies while silently praying to the maker that your hunch would be correct. When you saw Tig’s hands twitch and begin to lower the blaster from the kid, you knew you had him. 

“You must be desperate.” Tig held onto the kid tighter and you hoped he wouldn’t question you anymore because at this point, you were sure you would be the one doing something stupid to get him back. 

“No, I’m just the moof-milker who wasn’t supposed to care about some tinman and his foundling...and yet here I am.” Your admission filled the silent air and you thought you heard the bounty hunter lightly gasp behind you but knew better. Call it wishful thinking but if you were to ever make it alive out of this situation, with no one harmed, you were going to think of finally telling him how you feel. How you’ve felt ever since you joined his clan. No, that wasn’t it. You weren’t part of his clan. You just...were.

“I don’t have a single weapon on me...not even a whistle. Plus, I’ll fetch for a good price on Malachor…” You turned to your partner and held back from smiling once you saw the minuscule nod he threw at you. He couldn’t afford one of the munitions from his whistling bird hitting the kid, but he could use it if you took his place...or so you thought at least. 

“That’s the...they pay in-” As Tig tripped over his words, you held back a sigh of relief because he was finally falling for the trap. 

“That’s right baby, they pay exclusively in Nova Crystals...only a moron would let the opportunity slide from his fingers. Come on, what do you say? Last I heard, I was worth five-” Before you could finish your sentence, Tig was setting the child down on the ground, the blaster instantly aimed at your head so you wouldn’t think of escaping. You waited until the kid ran to the Mandalorian before stepping towards the Rodian in front of you.

“Smart man,” you hissed when he grabbed your arm and twisted it behind your back before pulling you flush to his chest, making sure the Mandalorian didn’t have an opening to shoot him. 

“Our business here is finished Mandalorian,” Tig warned the beskar-clad hunter and you instantly felt sorry for him because it was one thing to threaten the kid but a whole other to warn him. As he stepped back and took you with him, you took a deep breath and shut your eyes, praying that if and when the munition hit you, it wouldn’t hurt badly. You snorted loudly before you could silence yourself and the Rodian dug his nails into your forearms. “What’s so funny girly?”

“Girly? Oh you’re dead meat now.” Almost instantly, you heard the Mandalorian fire two small munitions from his vambrace, falling backward in pain when sure enough, one of them broke the skin of your hip right before it hit the bounty in his side. He immediately rolled you down beneath him and was about to shoot you right between your eyes if it weren’t for the Mandalorian running towards the two of you and kicking his head. Your eyes widened in surprise when you realized he fainted from how hard the hit was, gaze instantly landing on the man standing above your battered body. You could tell he was definitely killing you in a thousand different ways but feigned ignorance at the obvious anger, smiling when the green goblin waddled towards you and stretched his hands out again. 

“I thought I told you not to do that,” you warned him again, struggling to stand up and ignoring the heat rushing through your clothes when you felt Mando support your back. He let go when he noticed the way you reacted to him, thanking the maker for the helmet that hid his hurt expression. As you put the child back in his crib and shut it to ensure he wouldn’t get out again, you turned around and found the Mandalorian violently cuffing Tig and forcing him to stand up. He was a little dazed but knew better than to attempt and fight the Mandalorian. If you could feel the rage rolling off of him, then the Rodian was certainly aware of it as well. You kept on glancing at him and noticed the way he was clutching the beskad, a part of you hurt that he didn’t return it to you once he cuffed the bounty. There weren’t any more dangers, to your knowledge, but it still felt like he was purposely ignoring the weapon in his hand. Maybe he just didn’t trust you with it at the moment. You couldn’t blame him if he was reluctant to hand it to you ever again. It was a most valuable position and he was technically crossing a line by allowing you to use it so the fact that you felt the need to give it back to him must have struck a sensitive nerve. As your eyes took in his rigid form sulking and strutting ahead of you, you hated the way you were reacting to him holding onto the beskar sword and shook your head at how absolutely fucked up your mind was for thinking of him using that beskad a little differently on you.

The four of you made your way back to the Razor Crest in silence and you could tell the couple merchants left in the bazaar were staring at you as you made your way through the alleys. But you didn’t care for any of that because you now had another issue at hand. There was no way the Mandalorian wasn’t going to ask about why there is, or was, a bounty on your head. Those on Malachor who wanted you were known across the Outer Rim Territories, not because of the nature of their work but because of the history tied with them. Only a fool with a death wish would mess with the Zabraks and the Mandalorian was no idiot. He’d heard you saying how much you were worth. You knew he would never try and take up that bounty for himself, at least you hoped he wouldn’t. Not after everything you’ve been through.

But there was no way he wasn’t going to ask you to leave. The longer you thought about it, the quicker you realized he was probably going to just leave you on Christophsis. The kid was too important to him and he couldn’t afford losing him. 

Hell, he was too important to you. Both of them were. And you wouldn’t want to take that chance if you were in his place.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of the Crest, clutching at your side and looking around you to make sure no one was following you. You pushed the crib up the ramp and vaguely heard the sound of the carbon freezer going off, muffling the rage of the Rodian who was sure he was going to be richer than the Empire in a matter of hours should he have taken you. 

Reluctance filled your heart and you thought it better to not bother and attempt to get on the ship when you knew its owner no longer welcomed your presence. Looking to the side, you saw a dimly-lit turquoise tree bark on its side facing the lake behind the ship. Barely making it across, you threw yourself down and sighed, opening your eyes and looking out to the different shades of blue coloring the luminescent lake. You weren’t sure how long you were sitting there and you didn’t care. It was too beautiful to let your worries run with you. 

It was bound to happen. 

“What did I say about wasting time we don’t have?” The Mandalorian’s voice broke your daydreams and you jumped at the modulated voice, crying in pain when the gash at your hips oozed out more blood. 

“Pfassk!” Hearing him swear beneath his breath before getting down on his knees to get a better look at the wound gave you butterflies in your stomach and you thought back to what happened earlier with the kid. Maybe he did care if you got hurt after all. 

“It isn’t bad. The bacta spray will take care of this.” He grabbed your arm and helped you to your feet, his visor turning away from you when he met your eyes. 

“You mean...o-on the ship?” You wished you didn’t sound so helpless but the thought of not being turned away from him put you at ease and you hoped he wasn’t just going to help you get back on your feet before leaving you. He wasn’t that cruel...

“No in the cantina.” His response was instant and you couldn’t hold back the laughter from bubbling up your throat even if you tried. 

“Did- did you just make a joke? Maker, you...hah, you actually made a joke. Did I hit myself on the head or did you j-”

“Enough,” his grasp tightened around your upper arm and you swallowed the lump in your throat when his gruff voice hit your core. As soon as you went up the ramp, Mando was shutting it behind him, pushing you towards your cot in the back before leaving for the cockpit. You didn’t know what else to do so you decided to sit there until he returned. The bacta spray was in his quarters and there was no way in hell you were going to go there. You were barely hanging by a thread and feared how he’d react if he found you going through his things. 

The bounty hunter, on the other hand, purposely left you there for a few moments to try and get himself together. As he plotted the course to Nevarro, and made sure everything was in place, he thought back to what you were willing to do to ensure the kid’s safety. And he wished he didn’t feel his heart swell with anticipation following your confession. Sure he knew you care for the child, you’d proven on many occasions that you have. But hearing you admit you cared about him stirred something into his chest, a feeling he purposely ignored these past few months of having you on the ship. A feeling which he tried his hardest not to humor because as far as he knew, you were strictly business partners, and nothing more. Hell, the two of you barely considered yourselves as that considering how often you headbutted during the hunts. He was forced to bring you on board because a pair of extra eyes were necessary to make sure the kid was safe. Had anyone asked him weeks ago about what he thought of you, he would have said he considered you as an acquaintance, since the word ‘enemy’ would have been a little too harsh. 

Of course that would have been a blatant lie because this same feeling residing in the pit of his stomach grew every time he saw you interact with the child. Something about seeing you switch from being a deadly bounty hunter to a caring m-, a caring woman, made his chest swell with need and...dare he say, hope. It was a feeling unlike any other.

A feeling which quickly turned into a deep yearning when he finally noticed the effect he had on you as he tried to help you onto the Crest. He felt guilt wash over him because the purpose of the heat sensors was to track his bounties and not to fill his eyes with your heated skin and warm c-

A loud crash brought him out of his haze and as he descended the stairs and looked towards your cot, dread filled his soul. You must have lost more blood than he initially thought because you were lying on the ground with the child attempting to move out of his crib.

In an instant, he was carrying you into the makeshift bed, head shaking when he looked at you and saw you deliriously giggling at him. 

“Must I almost die for you to finally remember I-” You attempted to joke to put him at ease but regretted it immediately when you realized it had the opposite effect on him. 

“Shut up.” He left you sitting on the bed before bringing the kid to his quarters, warning him not to get out of his crib before aggressively grabbing the kit and returning to your side. 

“Take your shirt off.” He barked out the command without giving too much thought to it and winced when he realized how careful he must be when he’s talking to you, especially now when you looked so weak and...fuck. No. He can’t think like that. 

“P-pardon?” You were visibly shaking at the sudden request and wished you weren’t thinking of-

“Do you not speak Basic anymore? Take the kriffing shirt off.” You flushed under his gaze and looked away from him as you tried to remove the ripped article of clothing. When you hissed and lowered your arm, Mando sighed in annoyance because of course you wouldn’t be able to raise your arm.

“Not all of us can hide the pain behind a mask Mando, I just ne-” He didn’t let you finish your comment, setting everything aside and softly grabbing the hem of your shirt. You forgot how to breathe for a moment, looking at him quizzically when he remained unmoving for a few seconds. It occurred to you that he was probably waiting for your permission and you nodded slightly before looking everywhere else but him. Mando tried his hardest to control his reaction at seeing your soft skin and he was sure he was doing a good job until he saw your nipples harden behind the chest band. 

Clearing his throat once, Mando stood up and helped you take your shoes off before preparing the bacta spray. “Will you...can you remove your pants?” His question was filled with reluctance and you wished with all your heart you could tease him about his tone but didn’t trust how he’d react to you. 

“I-I’m sorry I- can’t. It hurts to bend d-”

“Okay.” For maker knows what time that day, Mando cut you off and moved closer to you, willing himself to take deep breaths as he unzipped the front of your pants and held them at your hips. As you raised yourself to help him get the pants off, you couldn’t help but gasp as soon as you felt his gloved hands make contact with your skin. Mando stopped moving and kept his visor away from your face towards the medical supplies on the bed to give you some form of privacy. He could hear your heartbeat elevate, could feel your skin growing hotter beneath his touch, could almost smell the scent of your arousal sticking to the humid air. But he chose to ignore it, all of it. 

Slowly pulling the pants off, he maneuvered you around until you were facing towards the wall.

“This might hurt a bit Ad'ika.” The endearment left his lips before he could stop himself and he felt you still under his touch. 

“What- what does that mean?” Your voice was weaker than usual and he didn’t know he could feel any guiltier than before but the way you responded to his touch and his voice had him growing hard in his pants and if it weren’t for the fact that you entrusted him with caring for you, he would have pushed you down to the bed and swallowed those little sighs and whimpers until you begged him to stop. 

“I’ll tell you later.” The Mandalorian was never one to avoid such simple questions and you knew he could definitely see goosebumps growing across your skin once you realized why he might be refusing to tell you now. 

You felt the cold sting of the bacta spray spread across your thigh and grabbed the nearest object to you which so happened to be his forearm. Shutting your eyes harder than intended, you hissed out in pain when you felt him mirror your actions and tighten his fingers around your wrist. 

“Ni'm Ni ceta, Cyar'ika.” He whispered as he moved you around to face him, not giving you a chance to adjust to the position as he sprayed your hip. You didn’t let go of his arm once and felt hot tears rolling down your cheeks the more he pressed the medication into the open gash across your hip. He continued to whisper in Mando’a and you found it more soothing than you liked to admit even though you understood absolutely nothing of what he was saying. 

“M-mando please...I can’t- s-stop ple-” You cried out when the bacta spray hit the deepest corner of the cut, hands instantly moving to his shoulder and fisting into his cowl before unintentionally pulling him closer to you. Mando placed the top of his helmet against your forehead, willing himself to continue and care for you even though his touch was only bringing you pain in that instant. He almost shook his head when he noticed what he was doing, the gesture going completely unnoticed by you because he never told you what it meant in his culture to lean one’s head against another’s. He enjoyed the moment and whispered his apologies the harder you began to shake in his arms.

“Gedet'ye Cyare, I’m almost done. Take a deep breath for me,” he waited until you sucked in as much air as you could before applying the bacta spray to the last corner of the wound, setting it down and staring into the gash until he saw it slowly closing. You weren’t sure how long he sat there looking at you but you knew he could see the effect he had on you because his visor moved back and forth from the wound to where your thighs shifted. Once he was sure the skin was almost healed, he stood up and stepped away from you, already missing the heat of your skin touching his clothed armor. 

“Vor entye,” you weren’t sure why you felt the need to thank him in his mother tongue and hoped he wouldn’t dwell too much on it as you attempted to stand up. As you held out your arms to keep your balance, the Mandalorian was next to you in the blink of an eye, holding onto your waist to prevent you from falling over.

“You need to get some rest.” He half-yelled at you and you wished he wasn’t standing so close to you because one more rough command and you were going to fall on your knees and beg him to fuck your mouth. 

“No, I need to use the refresher.” You were surprised by how steady your voice came out and refused to be distracted by the way his fingers continued to twitch against your bruised hips.

“You can barely stand without my help.” Mando was frustrated beyond measure and recalled back to what he was thinking of when he was in the cockpit. A slow realization came to him and he stepped away from you when he knew it was never anger that bugged him whenever you challenged his commands, but frustration. More particularly, sexual frustration. Because if there was ever a time you looked absolutely divine, it was when you were fuming and yelling at him at the top of your lungs. And for some odd reason, he loved seeing you stand up to him. 

“I am using the refresher. I feel sweaty and disgusting and wet a-” You probably shouldn’t have said that last bit because Mando was letting go of you and collecting the supplies, not bothering to look back at you as he unlocked his cot and set the kit aside before checking on the kid. 

You mentally smacked yourself at the ridiculous word vomit and grabbed the nearest dry shirt and undergarments before wobbling to the refresher. Once the Mandalorian was sure you were in the refresher, he took the child to his little space near your cot and rubbed behind his ears until he fell asleep. He kept on looking at the door of the refresher, a part of him worried you’d slip and hit your head if it became too foggy in there. 

He was finally allowing his thoughts to become less hostile and worried when he picked up on a faint groan. Standing against the refresher door, he remained silent and shook his head when he heard you moan a string of ‘fucks’ a few times before something fell. 

“Pfassk,” shutting the curtain around the child, the Mandalorian walked to his cot and began to strip out of his armor. He refused to dwell too much on what he was about to do and the meaning behind his actions. Before long, Mando was standing in the middle of the Crest as nude as the day he was born and he took a deep, calming breath before taking off his helmet and setting it on the ground. Walking to the control box, he shut the lights off and ignored your sudden cries at losing sight of the room.

He approached the refresher and hoped what he was about to do wouldn’t pull your relationship apart, whatever that relationship was. Unlocking the door, he waited at the foot of the small room before stepping in, the heat of your shower already making him lose his mind. 

“Mando?” Your voice came out hoarse and he dug his nails into the palms of his hands to prevent himself from jumping on you right then and there. 

“Hmm.”

“Why...w-what are you doing?” He hated how much fear was laced in your words and realized you might completely misunderstand his actions. 

“Making sure you won’t fall and die on me.” The Mandalorian hoped his voice emitted some semblance of control and when you said nothing, he panicked and thought of the worst. Unbeknownst to him, you were struggling for a response not because you wanted him to leave but because he wasn’t wearing his mask. He chose to take his mask off and be in the same room as you. True the lights were off and you couldn’t see even a foot ahead of you but it was still a big deal, even more so for him. And maker, his voice was smoother than the finest Opaline Creed honey. You weren’t sure what you expected it to sound like but you genuinely thought the vocoder was what made it sound so guttural. Turns out, it was already smooth and deep and was just intensified through the helmet. You felt your legs shaking at the knowledge of hearing that same voice whispering the filthiest things in your ears and instantly decided to move away from that grey area.

“T-thank you.” The soft exclamation shot through his spine and he didn’t bother to slow his movements as he pushed open the door of the even smaller privy and stepped through. Years of adapting to the mask as well as walking around in the darkness of his ship without it allowed him to see where you were standing. He could just make out the shape of your curves and held back a moan when the water hit his tired muscles. You refused to move an inch, afraid to break whatever spell fell over the two of you and allowed you to be in close proximity. The bounty hunter rarely articulated his inner thoughts and emotions so anything you could say might genuinely spook him. 

When your hand fell from your chest to try and readjust the heat of the water, it accidentally trailed over his skin and you gasped when it finally occurred to you that yes, he was very much as naked as you. His mask was not the only thing that was off. You weren’t sure what that meant for him or for you apart from the fact that he felt the need to strip off his armor, physically and metaphorically, to ensure your safety. 

“M-mando…”

“Mesh'la, if you keep calling for me with that sinful voice, I- I am not sure I will be able to restrain myself.” For the first time since you’d joined him on the ship, Mando was losing his patience and control, and he hoped his words wouldn’t scare you away. He never sounded so...breathy? Was that even the right word? It took you a few longer moments to finally register what his words meant and you set the soap on the shelf before stepping towards him. You could sense the moment he acknowledged just how close you were to him because he finally let himself react to your heat and gasp at knowing you were within arm’s reach.

“T-then don’t…” The words were left hanging in the damp air around you and you thought you crossed a line which he so obviously sounded like he didn’t wish to move past.

But Mando was on you in the blink of an eye, grabbing your hips and pushing you roughly until your back hit the cold wall, the feeling of his wet skin sliding against yours turning you on way more than it should. Before you could have any time to react to the sudden movement, Mando was leaning down and hoisting you up against the cool metal, moaning against your cheeks when your legs crossed behind his back and pulled his achingly hard cock to your heated core. 

“Mando, oh fuck- I...y-you’re-” You wrapped your arms arond his neck and felt the soft hair at the nape of his neck tickle your skin. You couldn’t hold back even if you tried, fingers instantly fisting in his hair and finding it much longer than you thought it would be. Mando groaned and felt himself growing harder as you bucked your hips against him and the thought of finally sheathing himself inside you drove him mad with lust. He felt how warm your cunt is and his knees almost gave out when for a moment, he brushed against your clit and felt you whimper beneath him.

“Ad'ika, I- I need you...I burn for you. Please, sweet girl, will you let me have you? I can feel you pulling me in...can smell your wetness calling for me.” You were sure you died and joined the stars because the man before you rarely spoke and here he was spilling his heart’s deepest desires unabashedly and rather enthusiastically. You threw your head back as he bucked his hips against you and bit down on your neck, smiling when you knew you’d wake up to numerous bruises and marks coloring your skin and showing the universe whom you belonged to.

“Please...pl-please, I'm yours Mando, do what you want with me. T-take whatever you want, ohh ffuh- fuck me until I...till I can’t feel anything but your cock. Kriffing hell I-” Mando couldn’t stop himself even if he tried. He knew he should prepare you for him. He knew he should make sure he wasn’t forcing you into anything. But your words nudged at that primal lust he reserved for you and in that moment, only one thing mattered. 

Making sure he marked every single inch of you until he didn’t know where he ended and you began. 

With as much focus as he could muster up, Mando trailed one of his hands down your thighs and took himself in his hand, jerking the head of his cock against your wet slit and feeling you shiver at his ministrations. Bracing his feet better against the warm floor, Mando ceased to breathe as he thrust harshly inside you, swallowing your moans as he brought his lips against yours. The two of you couldn’t move a muscle for a few seconds and Mando thanked the maker you weren’t trying to meet his hips because he was sure he would cum right then and there should you clench any harder around him. You couldn’t get enough of the way his tongue danced against your lips and you tried your hardest to keep kissing him for as long as possible. But then he was pulling away and nipping at your neck, and you swore he was going to be the death of you because you never pictured him with a beard and now you were feeling it rubbing against your already hyper-sensitive skin.

“Mand-” You whimpered into his lips once more and felt him become more aggressive by the second.

“None of that...my name is- it’s Din. Remember it, memorize it...fucking say it as you take my cock into that wet, tight cunt of yours. I-I want you to scream my name as I fuck you sweet girl...I want to hear these walls shaking with how much I pleasure you.” You couldn’t wrap your head around what he’d just willingly allowed you to know. It was too much to take in and you felt tears rolling down your cheeks as you realized what this man has done for you in the span of a few hours. Din faintly heard you sniff  and hoped he wasn’t hurting you in any way. 

“Din,” he curled into you as soon as his name left your lips, unable to stop himself from pulling out and plunging back into you time and again just to hear you whisper his name in his ears. He was intoxicated by the little sounds you were emitting, squeezing your thighs and making sure you were holding yourself up as he began to pound into you until the only sounds left in the small room were his skin slapping against yours and the running water. 

“Oh- gah...D-Din, I-” You couldn’t form a proper sentence even if you tried, fingers digging into his back as you felt his cock hit near your cervix. Before you knew it, you were clenching around him, screaming his name as you arched your back and came on his dick. Din growled when he felt you squeeze his cock, his hips stuttering for a moment before he continued to fuck you with abandon, carrying you over the edge once more until you were a moaning mess. 

“Fuck, ah Cyare...you’re everything I dreamed of a-and so much kriffing better...I- I want to brand you darling...I want to leave my mark on every single one of your holes. So, fucking, good for me,” Din couldn’t believ what he was saying because a part of him felt guilty for using such filthy language with you. But he didn’t want to stop, he wanted you to know how much you affected him. He yearned for you and wished with all his being to become one with you in every single possible way.

“Din, Din...oh pfassk- cum for me. Cum for me please, fill me up...let me feel you hot and deep inside me.” You begged for him and prayed to the stars he wouldn’t be turned off by what you were asking of him. 

“Mesh'la...you- is that what you want? You want me to cum inside this sweet little cunt? Want to walk around with my seed leaking down your thighs- ah fuck, you’re a dream. A kriffing dream...and you’re all mine. Mine to fuck when I please, mine to mark- ah by the gods woman...mine to fucking breed when I feel like it.” Din was no longer in control of himself, grinding his teeth before he leaned down and attacked the skin of your chest. You clenched around him when you felt his teeth nip at your nipples a little harder than you liked. But you didn’t have the heart to tell him to go easier on you. It was intoxicating how much he wanted you and you didn’t want this to end because now that you’ve had a taste of how much of a generous lover he is, you didn’ want to give it up, even if it meant having purple and blue spots coloring your body the following day. 

“Yes, yes...Din, ‘m all yours. Please-” He wasn’t sure if it was your desperate pleas that forced him to cross that threshold or if it was how sinfully warm your cunt felt as he thrust into you time and again. But it didn’t matter because Din was close to losing his mind as he stilled all his motions, cock pulsating and shooting his seed so deep inside you he was sure you were going to have another kid running around the ship. In all honesty, the Mandalorian was not sure he wanted to have another child but the image of your grown belly was engraved into his mind now and he didn’t know if he could ever stop himself from bending you over every part of the ship, at any given moment in time, and breeding you until you couldn’t feel anything but his hot cum filling your insides. 

You were gasping for air at this point, leaning down and sucking on his Adam's apple just to get a rise out of him. You smiled when he unintentionally jutted against you and somehow managed to push his hot seed deeper inside you. Maybe he was more touch-starved than you initially thought...

“Mine. All mine,” he whispered right before slowly setting you down on the ground and you hissed when you felt him pull out, the sudden emptiness making you wish he could stay inside you just a little while longer. 

“Come on, it’s going to get cold soon.” His words seemed calculated and you almost got a whiplash from how quickly he managed to compose himself. As he shut the water off and stepped out, you were met with a thousand doubts and the Mandalorian must have sensed your reluctance because he grabbed your arm and forced you to get out of the privy, quickly wrapping a towel around you before opening the door of the refresher and pulling you along with him.

A quick look at the child’s curtain and Din knew he was still fast asleep. Not knowing what to say after your activities, Mando unlocked the door to his quarters and turned around to face you, taking hold of your towel and softly passing it over your wet skin until he was sure you were dry enough to not catch anything. You waited patiently until he dried himself off and stood there in silence, hoping he wasn’t going to turn you away. 

You felt a faint touch smoothing through your fingers before engulfing the palm of your hand and you let yourself smile at the thought of Din being so shy with you even after the last hour or so. You stepped closer to him and rested your head on his chest, rubbing your cheeks on him before kissing across the scarred expanse of his skin. Din was having a hard time, in more ways than one, keeping himself in check but feeling your lips leave open-mouthed kisses on him broke the thin thread he was hanging by. 

Before you could say anything, Din was leaning down and carrying you in his arms, immediately taking your lips into his as he kneeled down and stepped into his cot. He quickly shut the door of the semi-private corner in hopes of not waking the kid. Now that he knew how loud you were capable of screaming, he wasn’t planning on terrifying the child and making him think he was hurting you in some way. 

“Din-” You melted into his arms as his fingers massaged down your arms, stilling when they reached your navel before slowly pushing your thighs open. 

“Cyare...the things I want to do to you. You make me want to lose control.” His admission twisted your stomach and you turned your head to the side to avoid his words because as much as you enjoyed hearing how much you affected him, it was embarrassing to listen to him praise you in such a way when up until hours ago, he barely managed to keep a conversation for more than five minutes. Din noticed the shift in your body language and retracted his fingers, choosing to lay them on the covers beneath you so you didn’t feel too overwhelmed with his presence.

“Did I offend you sweet girl?” He grinned against your cheeks before laying lazy kisses across your clavicle, smiling when he coaxed more needy moans out of you. 

“N-no, no it’s...I- I’m just not used to-” You tripped over your words and wished he wasn’t distracting you with his lips so you could try and tell him what you were thinking of.

“Being told you’re a good girl?” Mando could tell he struck a nerve because you shifted your thighs and arched your back against him when his hand shot to your legs to keep them from closing. 

“I- uhh, that’s n-not wha-”

“Come on Mesh'la, since when do you get so tongue tied while talking to me?” Din knew he was pushing all your buttons and wished you could finally lose it and try to challenge him because he was as ready as he’d ever be now that he sort of knew where you stood with him.

“Din, I don’t want you t- to think that I...that you need to do...this, because I...I can’t bear the thought of you pushing me away if you...oh maker, if you regret this tomorrow.” 

Whatever the Mandalorian thought you were going to say, he was certainly not expecting such a nervous response to his actions. He wished he wasn’t so hostile with you since you joined him but he was only trying to protect the kid, and himself. The fact that you thought he was with you out of pity and not because of how much he wanted you was preposterous and as much as he wanted to ease all your worries away, he couldn’t deny how hard he became just from hearing your small voice telling him to not regret sleeping with you. 

Without giving you any warning, Din pulled away from you, grabbing your hips aggressively before turning you on your stomach. You barely had any time to react as he forced you on your knees and shoved his hands into your hair to pull you against him. Your hands shot to his calloused ones and grabbed onto them like your life depended on it, whimpering and shaking in his arms as you felt his cock slide across your wet slit.

“Feel how much I want you Cyar'ika, how much I crave being inside this sweet cunt,” Din shoved three fingers inside your pussy and growled when he felt his cum mixed with your wetness and rolling down his palm. “You drive me mad with lust baby and there is nothing, absolutely nothing in this universe, that will ever convince me to not want you.” 

“D-din…” You cried his name as he continued to fuck you with his fingers, not bothering to let up as he felt you reach your peak and gush down his hand onto the covers. You tried to grab his wrist and beg him to stop but he didn’t, couldn’t if he tried. Letting go of your hair, he slapped the hand grabbing at his wrist away before wrapping those same fingers around your throat, pushing you back against his chest as he continued to finger you until the only sounds he heard were your desperate pleas for him to slow down

“That’s right, scream my name sweet girl. Fuck...I could smell your cunt. L-let me have a taste, please.” Not bothering to wait for a response, Din pushed you down and laid between your thighs, immediately descending on your heated slit like a parched man in the middle of Tatooine looking for a drink of water. Your hands shot to his hair and pulled on it as soon as you felt his beard tickle the inside of your thighs. He was being rough, he knew he was being overbearing and a little too much. But he didn’t know how to respond to your doubts so he thought it best to show you just how much he needed you.

Din groaned as he licked and sucked on your clit and when you tried to push him away, he clasped his hands above your navel and kept you close to him, not caring that your thighs were crushing his head as he took your clit between his lips and roughly swiped his tongue on it.

“Ahh D-din I can’t…please n-no more-”

“You’ll take what I give you Mesh'la,” Din let go of you and kneeled above you for a few moments to allow you to catch your breath. When he could hear your heart rate almost return to normal, he once again turned you around on your stomach before raising your hips up against him. Spitting on his fingers, he jerked his cock a few times before repeating the action and rubbing it across your pussy, chuckling when you tried to lean away from him.

“Don’t even try to run away from me. You asked me if I really wanted to fuck you so, here is my answer. Take my cock like the sweet little girl you are,” nudging your wet lips with the painfully hard head of his dick, Din snapped his hips forward until he was completely sheathed inside you, his chest shaking with anticipation at the thought of being able to fuck you again. 

“Oh kriffing hell you feel so tight around me, so wet and tight and perfect. Can you feel me Cyar'ika? Can you feel how much I burn for you, how much I need you- oh maker, you’re better than what I’ve dreamed of.” He didn’t care what that last admission implied because if it meant putting you at ease then he’d say it over and over again until you believed him. As he thrust into you relentlessly, you didn’t know what else to do except bite down on your forearms and beg for him, not sure if you wanted him to slow down or fuck into you harder. 

“Ner...all mine. Don’t want anyone else, ne-never wanted anyone else. You’re it for me Mesh'la. Oh fuck, I could feel you pulling me in deeper sweet girl.” The Mandalorian could feel you shaking beneath him and his chest filled with shameless pride at the thought of knowing he was the one bringing you this much pleasure. He forced himself to keep his eyes open so he could see your dimly-lit body obeying his every command. When he saw you biting down on your hands, he fell forward on top of you and brushed your hair to the side, biting at your shoulder blades as he rutted against you.

“Your sounds belong to me...your sighs, your moans, your fucking pleas. They belong to me so don’t fucking hold back.” Din growled his commands into your neck before wrapping one arm across your sternum while the other maintained its violent hold on your hips to help you meet his thrusts. He pulled back up again and took you with him, continuing to whisper in your ears as he felt your cunt squeezing his cock before pushing it out. Your whole body convulsed in his arms and Din couldn’t believe what he felt rolling down his thighs. He maintained his hold on you as he rammed his dick inside you again, barely managing to turn your head around so he could kiss you. 

And as he swallowed your whimpers, he marveled at how much you were willing to give him, feeling his heart skip a beat when he realized you have placed complete trust into his hands and allowed him to do what he wanted. The desperation of wanting to be with you in every possible way drove him mad and he barely recognized his own self when he pulled from your mouth and breathed heavily against your cheek.

“Fuck, ah kriffing hell- I don’t want to leave this cunt...want to fill it up with my cum till you can’t fucking breathe from how full you are. Fucking beautiful, letting me touch you, brand you...breed this tight pussy over and over again.”

“Din I- please...cum for me, I want to f-feel you cum inside me- I need you to- I can’t wait. Oh maker I l-lah ahh-” Din lost his rhythm as soon as he heard what you almost said to him, pushing you down beneath him as he shoved his cock a few times inside you before you felt him pulse against you, hot streams of his cum painting your walls and driving you over the edge one more time before completely stilling. His hips continued to buck against you and you knew he was trying his hardest to ensure you wouldn’t lose a single drop of his seed. 

The two of you fell over and you hissed when Din pulled out and turned you over, immediately pushing his softening dick back inside you once he found a comfortable position. You laid your head against his chest and smiled when you heard his heart beat against your cheeks. The two of you sat in silence, with Din drawing patterns on your shoulders while you kissed the scars painting his skin. 

It was a while later when you heard him sigh once that you knew what he wanted to say but was reluctant to admit.

“Go ahead, I know you want to ask.” You whispered to him, hoping any loud voice would break the blissful haze and make him turn you away, even though he told you there was no chance of him ever letting you go now.

“I didn’t want to presume I had a right to ask.” He leaned down and kissed your head before wiping away the wet hair from your face. 

“You have the right to do anything you want with me, Din.” The Mandalorian was surprised by how matter-of-fact your admission sounded and he couldn’t understand how you made such an amount of trust sound so easy and straightforward. 

“What do the Zabraks want with you, Cyar'ika? There are only a few of them around so you must have done something deserving of their attention.” He didn’t want to make it seem like he was judging you and hoped you didn’t misunderstand why he wanted to know. 

“I- I may or may not have found an ancient “artifact” that belonged to an important ancestor of theirs...and I may or may not have given it to-” You didn’t know if you should tell him about the mutual friend and felt your chest tighten when he urged you to continue. 

“To whom?”

“Ahsoka Tano.” His silence made you nervous and you were about to ask him if he was angry at you for not saying anything but he returned to massaging your back before speaking up again. 

“That’s why she recognized you.” You heard his smile when he spoke and felt at ease immediately because he really was much softer than he let on.

“You noticed that did you,” you chuckled against him and hummed in pleasure when he pulled you up to kiss him. 

“Did you mean that?” Din asked as he continued to touch every inch of your skin he had access to.

“Hmm?”

“That I have the right to-” He couldn’t finish the sentence because while he knew he meant every word he said, he wasn’t too sure about what you wanted from him. 

“Yes, Mando.” Din frowned at your use of his nickname and rolled you under him, ignoring the way you whined as he slipped out of you. 

“Don’t...please, sweet girl. Please say my name...when we’re alone.” There were so many promises hiding behind his request and you weren’t sure what you were supposed to say at such a heartfelt admittance. 

“Din, I-”

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Anything you want with me, from me...I’m yours Din, always.” You laid your hands on his cheeks and pulled him to your mouth, swirling your tongue against his before tightening your grip around him as you felt him nudge at your entrance. 

“Mesh'la...Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. Ni nu’ru'kir. A Ni vaabir.” His voice was soft as he whispered those words against your lips and you wished to ask him what he was saying but decided to bug him about it later. Right now, you wanted to enjoy the moment and feel his warm skin slide against yours. A part of you, a very small part, hoped he would have a slower stamina because you weren’t sure if you were able to do anything else in the next few hours. But you knew, in your heart, that you would give him anything, and all of you, even if he didn’t ask you to. 

Translation (which are not always accurate but I tried):

Doshing - A “derogatory” modifier

Shabuir - extreme insult; "jerk", but much stronger

Waadar Ke'sush' - Pay attention. 

Haar'chak - Damn it!

Moof-milker - A term for a dimwitted individual

Pfassk - An adaptable expletive

Ad'ika - Little one

Ni'm Ni ceta, Cyar'ika. - I’m sorry.

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Gedet'ye - Please.

Cyare - Beloved

Vor entye - Thank you

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Ner - Mine

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. Ni nu’ru'kir.  A Ni vaabir. - I love you. I shouldn’t. But I do.

[katmoonz]

My Little Masterpiece

Pairing: Artist!Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

CW: fluff, mention of reader feeling aroused, hints of sexual activity after this story but none included in the writing, pure fluff, use of pet names (if I’ve missed anything out feel free to let me know x)

Notes: this is different to what I usually write so it may be a little shorter than usual, I have an idea for another Artist!Sirius fic that I’m going to start writing in the next few days, (warning though, it’ll be pure smut)

“Grrrr” you hear, a paintbrush flies past your head. Sirius lets out an annoyed sigh and he starts to pace back and forth across your small apartment, his hands tugging on his hair in frustration.

You lower the book that you’re reading looking up at him from below your lashes. It wasn’t unusual for Sirius to end up frustrated at his work but it was rather odd for him to start throwing things. It takes another growl from your frustrated lover for you to put the book aside. 

“Baby” you call from the couch, he doesn’t seem to hear you as he starts to rummage through his art supplies. you make your way over to him, standing behind him you put your hands on his shoulders, he jumps and turns to face you.

“I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean to get angry” he apologises, Sirius never likes to show anger around you as he wants to be your protector and not a feared figure, god knows he’s had enough of those for one lifetime.

Sirius wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest, he rubs your back gently. 

You relax in his embrace, closing your eyes and letting out a relaxed sigh. You feel Sirius above you start to calm down, you reopen your eyes and look up at him. “Why were you so upset?” You ask.

Sirius pulls away from you, he wanders over to where his brush landed and picks it up, twirling it around his fingers he sits on the floor, his back against the couch. After a minute of silence he looks up at you, he pats the floor next to him signalling that you should sit next to him, you do so and lean against his shoulder.

Sirius lets out a sigh, he stops twirling the paintbrush and runs a hand over his face. “I’ve run out of canvases” he explains, “I could’ve sworn I had a spare but I can’t find it and it’s too late to go out to buy more”

There is a frown upon his face and you can’t help but feel sorry for him. Being as hyperactive and emotional as he is, he uses art as his outlet, if he doesn’t have that outlet it feels like his world is crashing down around him.

You try to think of a way to help him, he is right though it’s currently midnight and all of the art supply stores would have closed several hours ago.

As you desperately wrack your mind you think back to something he said a few days ago. You were coming out of the shower and hadn’t bothered wrapping a towel around yourself, Sirius being the sweetheart that he is had put down his sketchpad to pull your naked form into his lap, “mmm” he hummed into your neck, “you’re beautiful puppy, you’re a fucking masterpiece, I wish I could have you on display like this all the time”

Turning to look at Sirius’ lost face you make a decision, “I have an idea” you exclaim excitedly straddling his lap. He chuckles at your enthusiasm, “what baby?” he asks.

“You don’t need a canvas to paint on, you can just use me” 

Surprised at your proposition he raises a brow, “Are you sure baby?”

You nod excitedly “please, I’m really bored and I hate to see you upset”

Cupping your face in his hands he places a gentle kiss on your lips “You’d have to lay on the floor love, I don’t think that paint on our bed is a good idea”

“That’s okay, I love watching you work so I don’t think it’d be that uncomfortable” 

“Okay my little masterpiece” he pats your butt moving you off his lap before standing, he walks over to his paint before looking over his shoulder at you. “C’mon puppy strip”, you start to remove your clothes as Sirius gathers his supplies, he watches as you remove your panties and finally stand naked before him. 

“Fuck” he whispers staring at your naked form, “would it be a cop-out to say that my painting is complete?” He asks

You giggle stepping forward and kissing him “I love you”

“I love you too pup, c’mon lie down for me” he points to a clear spot on the floor. You lay yourself down on the floor in your living room, Sirius stands over you with a palette in one hand and a brush in the other, he has a spare brush behind his ear. Biting his lip, he looks down at you before getting down to your level and straddling your waist. 

His eyes scan your body for a second before he dips his brush into some paint and brings it down to your breast. The brush is cold and wet, you flinch at how unexpectedly cold the paint is, you quickly become used to it and you watch as his brush dips into the different colours. Your breath catches in your throat as the brush swirls over your nipples.

Instead of looking down at what he’s painting you watch his face. Sirius’ tongue is sticking out of the corner of his mouth in concentration, he looks so calm and relaxed while running his paintbrush over the curves of your body. Out of your peripheral, you see flashes of blue.

The feeling of Sirius sitting on your waist pressing you down with his weight is very arousing, you feel your pussy start to dampen. Sirius’ curls are pinned up in a bun, a few strands have fallen out and they surround his face.

Sirius moves back, shifting so that he is now straddling your knees so that he can paint on your pelvis. Your pussy starts to throb slightly, you slightly move your thighs together to try and relieve the ache, he tuts “Don’t move puppy, we’re almost finished”

Sirius starts to bring the brush to your vulva, your breath starts to get heavy, staying still taking its toll on you as you want nothing more than to move his hand lower to play with your clit.

“Done”, Sirius leans back to admire his work, the soft glow of the overhead light is shining upon you as if you’re on a wall in an art gallery.

“Do you wanna see pup?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. You nod enthusiastically, “yes please”

“Okay, give me a minute, I need a picture of my angel looking like a complete masterpiece” he walks back to his desk to grab a camera, standing over you being careful not to catch his shadow in the shot he takes a few pictures of you”

After returning the camera to the desk he leaves to wash his hands, before returning to you to get you off the floor.

Sirius stands over you and reaches out a hand to one of your own, he helps you get up off the floor before turning you to face the bathroom. Standing behind you he places his hands over your eyes and tells you to walk.

“C’mon baby, just a few more steps, no peeking” he guides you into the bathroom to stand before the mirror.

“Are you ready?” He asks excitedly. Without waiting for a reply he starts counting down “3...2...1…” he removes his hands and watches your face in the mirror as you take in his work.

“So?”

You gasp as you take in the different shades of purple and blue that have been carefully blended into your skin, he’d painted the night sky with a couple of different constellations. “it’s so pretty” you say in awe.

“Not as pretty as you m’love” he replies still watching you in the mirror

You turn around to look into his eyes, “no seriously, it’s incredible if only you’d done it on an actual canvas so that it could be put on a wall”

“Mmm, I like the sound of that, my masterpiece on a wall” he looks down upon your still naked body. “Y’know we might not be able to display it but there’s still a way to get it on a wall”

“How?” You ask, wondering what plan he’d come up with

Sirius presses a gentle kiss on your lips, pulling back when you try to deepen it. Grabbing your waist he turns you around to look at the shower, he leans into your ear to whisper “we need to wash the paint off and you deserve a reward for being such a good girl”

Tags: @padf00ts-l0ver @divanca2006 @crystal-dee @pottahishotasf @heartbeats-wildly @sprucewoodlover

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[i-have-a-wonky-eye-too]

Who knows when... - Wet Dream... Come true... (mini series) Part 1/?

Warnings: 18+ readers only. NSFW. Swearing, sex (protected sex), oral - male receiving, nakedness in the shower. I DON'T OWN HENRY CAVILL. THIS IS FICTION! NO MINORS!

"That's it, baby girl. Fuck. You're taking my cock so well." Henry moaned deep from in his chest.

His hips snapped, back and forth, pushing and pulling his thick cock inside your pussy. You moaned out loud as he sucked and licked your throat, wrapping your legs around his waist, wanting him to go deeper.

"Yes! Fuck, yes," You cried out. Your nails dug into his back, his shoulders, his waist, his backside, anywhere you put your hands. You pulled him closer. "Yes! Oh, Henry, I'm-"

You pushed yourself up in bed with a slight groan, rubbing your eyes with your fingers. Damn it, you wished your dream had never ended. You let out a tired yawn, stretching your sore muscles before sitting up a little more. The dream had been so real, you could have sworn your legs were aching, your pussy too. You swung your legs over the side of the bed and put your feet down on to the soft, fluffy carpet.

You looked up and finally noticed you weren't in your room. With a frown you pushed yourself to stand and slowly began to walk round the bed, looking for your clothes. Suddenly the door opened, startling you, freezing you in place as you came face to face with the man who'd taken you home.

"You're awake," He smiled at you.

"It wasn't a dream," You gaped at him, "... I'm actually stood naked in front of Henry Cavill." You groaned, covering your face as you dropped onto the bed in embarrassment.

Henry chuckled softly, "I'm not complaining." He smirked before he reached up behind the door and took down his dressing gown. "Here, put this on." He kindly offered you it.

"Thank you," You blushed as you acceptd his dressing gown. You held in the giggle that threatened to break as you tied the belt around your waist. Being Henry's, it was far too big for you but it was warm.

Henry sat beside you on the bed with a soft smile on his face. You looked cute in his dressing gown, and after you've finished with it, it would smell like you. Henry cleared his throat and tore his gaze from you. "Do you remember last night?"

Oh yes. Now that you were fully awake and had come face to face with your 'wet dream', last night had come flying back, crystal clear and in detail. "Yes." You answered meekly. Your cheeks flush as you thought about the details of last night.

Henry grinned, "Good."

You looked up to him with a shy smile. "Good."

Henry let out a low chuckle. "You look cute when you get shy." He teased giving you a playful nudge making you blush a little more and hide your face in his fluffy dressing gown. "Would you like to join me for a shower?"

Your eyes widened a little in confusion. "I thought, you'd be wanting me to... hmm, leave."

"I thought you said you didn't do one night stands?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. So he did remember one of our many conversations from last night.

You shook your head. "I don't. I just thought, you might want rid of me." You whispered and looked down bashfully.

Henry shook his head and let out a soft sigh, "Y/N, I said last night that I really liked you. And I meant it." He smiled softly at you. "Is that okay?"

You nodded biting your bottom lip. "... Yes," You smiled looking up to him, only then noticing what he was wearing. Your mouth water as you watched the sweat trickle done his neck and his chest, making his chest habit stick to him and - "What time is it?" You cleared you thriat and the dirty thoughts clouding your mind.

Henry looked down, "Oh, still early. I had to go take Kal out for a walk, ended up having a run." He chuckled softly. You nodded with a smile. "So, shower?"

You nodded and blushed a little, before you looked around the room. "Oh, hmm... Where are my things?"

Henry smirked playfully as he stood up from the bed. "I thought you said you remembered last night?" He asked walking out of the room.

You rolled your eyes, "Well, when Henry Cavill is literally fucking your brains out, you tend to forget where you dropped your things."

Henry laughed heartily as he walked back into the room holding your things in his hands. "When you put it like that." He teased placing your things beside you on the bed. "Do what you need to and I'll get the shower going." He smiled softly at you.

You nodded thanking him and waited until Henry walked into the bathroom before you fell back onto the bed with a deep breath. You just needed a minute to collect your thoughts.

Last night actually happened. Your flat mate had asked you to be her plus one to her works party. You'd only been there an hour when you'd tripped in your friends stupid heels she'd made you wear and fallen into someone. That someone had been Henry, and thankfully he was more than happy with the accident. The two of you ended up talking all night and then, well, you woke up the next morning in Henry's bed after a night full of mind blowing sex.

"Y/N?" Henry called out from the bathroom. His voice mixed with the sound of running water filled your stomach with butterflies.

"Coming!" You answered quickly, pushing yourself up from the bed.

Henry was already in the shower by the time you entered the bathroom. You could see his silhouette through the steam and the glass of the shower. It only just occurred to you that you were actually going to be in the shower with Henry, naked, and fully sober.

"Are you getting in, or just going to watch me?" Henry asked with a playful tone.

You licked your lips at the thought of just watching Henry wash himself. "I'm coming,"

You smiled, and quickly pulled open the dressing gown, taking a quick sniff of it, melting a little as you breathed in the scent that was Henry. Once you'd safely hung the dressing gown up, you took a deep breath and stepped round the glass door. Your eyes bugged a little and your mouth hung open as you came face to face with Henry's naked back and arse.

"Fuck," You muttered to yourself.

"I could say the same thing," Henry looked over his shoulder with a smug smirk. He turned around and faced you, "Come here." He held his hand out to you.

You took his hand and stepped forwards until you were under the stream of water. You instantly closed your eyes and relaxed as the water ran down your body. A soft gasp past your lips and your eyes shot open as Henry lightly moved his hands up your arms.

"Do you have to be somewhere today?" Henry whispered.

"No plans made.. Yet."

"Good." Henry smiled at you.

He leaned in and pressed his lips against yours as he moved his hands to your back, pulling you closer to him, pressing your body against his. He ran his tongue between your lips and slipped it into your mouth, pulling a soft moan from you.

You gripped onto Henry's arms as he pushed you gently against the cool, fogged glass of the shower. Your tongue licked at Henry's as he squeezed your waist.

He pulled back with a deep breath, "Sorry." He let out a breathless chuckle making you giggle.

"No you're not."

"No, I'm not." He gave you a smug smile.

You smiled up at him, placing your hand on his hard chest, "I don't want you to think I'm being a cock tease, or anything," You bashfully looked down. Henry's hard cock stood between the two of you, practically making you drool as you eyed it. "But, maybe having sex in the shower, without protection, isn't the best idea."

Henry nodded, taking in another deep breath and stepped back a little from you. "Of course... You're absolutely right," He cleared his throat.

A silent groan left you as your eyes danced over Henry's naked body. He was a God! You licked your lips and reached out, grabbing his hand making Henry looked down at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Don't I still need to repay you for something?" You asked with a playful smile.

Henry's head tilted to the side as he tried to think of what you meant. "I don't -" His breathe caught in hi throat as you wrapped your hand around his hard cock. "Fuck,"

You bit your lip as you got on your knees in front of Henry and looked up at him through your eyelashes at him, giving them a bat before saying, "Do you want me stop?"

Henry shook his head gulping. "No." He growled, his eyes fixed in your hand as you slowly, teasingly stroke him.

Your eyes fell to his cock before you. It was a beautiful sight, you could admire Henry all day. You slid your hand down to the base of his cock, cupping his balls in your palm as you ran your tongue down the length of him and back to the tip. Henry groaned deeply as you repeated the action once more before you wrapped your lips around his tip.

"Fuck," He moaned with closed eyes.

You were glad Henry didn't have an overly long cock (not that it wasn't big - it was). You were able to fit most of him into your mouth, and deep throat him before pulling off to stroke him again. Your eyes water a little as you caught your breath but it didn't bother you, the sounds Henry was making above you spurred you on. You used your other hand to play with his balls, licking up the length of him again before taking him back into your mouth. You bobbed slowly up and down, adding light pressure to his balls as you did.

"Shit. Baby, don't stop," One of Henry's large hands fell to the back of your head, encouraging you to take more of him as he slammed his other against the wall. "Fuck! Baby, I'm gonna cu-" Henry groaned from deep in his chest as you sucked and licked him as he came.

You moaned, the taste of him on your tongue making you wetter than you thought possible. You pulled off him and smirked up at him. You enjoyed seeing him like this.

Henry panted, trying to catch his breath. "That-" He ran a hand down his face, "Fuck, that was hot." He chuckled breathlessly and helped you off the tiled floor. "Perhaps, we should shower later..." He grinned at you making your eyes widened and light up with lust as he pulled your body against his. "We've got plans, now."

[gladerscake]

Since Always - Part II

(Gally x Reader)

Part I

I didn’t wanna keep you guys waiting too long, so here it is! Warning: Unobstructed Fluff Ahead. Proceed at your own risk.

“Hey, Newt!”

The lanky boy turned to the sound of Gally’s voice behind him, arching a brow at his quickly approaching form. “Yeah?”

The builder propped his hands on his hips, a ghost of a sneer curving his mouth; he seemed evidently bothered by something, which didn’t escape Newt’s notice.

“Have you seen Y/N? I need to talk to her.”

“Do you? ‘Bout what, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Gally huffed, focusing his pointed stare on the Second-in-Command “A little birdie named Zart told me you two were talking earlier. He heard my name. What’s up?”

Newt resisted the urge to roll his eyes, resorting to a tight-lipped grin. Zart. Of course. The track-hoe was notoriously bad at keeping his mouth shut.

“Oh! It was nothing, really. She was just, uh... telling me about the Med-Hut expansion you’ve been working on.” He attempted to lie, but the brief pause, coupled with the way his brown eyes seemed to look everywhere but at him, was a dead giveaway.

“Well, that’s a load of crap.” Gally scoffed, crossing his buff arms, his expression bouncing between annoyance and concern. “Seriously, what’d she say? Did I do something? Is it bad?”

Newt had to physically restrain himself from laughing. Witnessing how easy it was to get Gally all fidgety and weird at the mere thought of you saying something bad about him, was enough of a confirmation for what Newt already knew.

“No, absolutely not. You can relax, mate, it’s nothing bad.” He couldn’t suppress the secretive smirk that curved his mouth as the words left it “It’s actually quite the opposite.”

Gally’s uniquely-shaped brows furrowed in confusion as he stared at his friend. The opposite? What the hell did that mean? He was relieved to hear that you weren’t upset or mad at him, but whatever Newt was trying to say - it wasn’t making any sense.

“What are you talking about? What’s “the opposite”? Come one, Newt, can’t you just say it?” He gruffed, his broad shoulders tensing with impatience.

Unfortunately, Gally was all out of luck, as Newt had no intention of saying anything else. As much as he wanted to give Gally a hint and maybe hurry along the process of you two getting together, he felt it wasn’t his place. He couldn’t just flat-out tell him that you had feelings for him and betray your trust like that. That’s not what friends do.

“Hey, I’ve already said plenty. Alright? More than enough.” He grabbed his rake, silently excusing himself from further conversation and beginning to walk away, watching the puzzlement only grow on Gally’s face “You can’t be that dense, Gally. I don’t believe it. Just... go talk to her, yeah?”

Gally blinked in further confusion as Newt walked away, shaking his head and trying earnestly to gather his thoughts. What in the actual hell was he on about? He couldn’t think of an answer, but he wanted one, and he wanted one, now.

He couldn’t bear the thought of something not being right between the two of you. Truth was, over the time of you being there, you have grown to be the one person Gally cared about the most in the glade. From the moment he had helped you out of that box, almost a year ago, he’s felt an inexplicable need to be near you. To help you with anything you needed help with, to protect you, to make sure you were comfortable and that you never felt like you didn’t belong there. He wanted you to feel happy, or at least content, because he felt like you deserved nothing less. He wanted you to trust him, to know that you could lean on him, and he was immensely glad that you two were as close as you were, now.

Surely enough, throughout your shared journey of getting closer, it wasn’t long before Gally found himself having... feelings. Feelings he hadn’t ever imagined he could have, feelings he didn’t know he was even capable of. Deep down, he knew what they were, but didn’t know how to admit it. Despite how great you and him got on, he was convinced it was strictly platonic on your part. He couldn’t find it in himself to think you’d be interested in him in any way that was beyond that. With all the shanks to choose from, why would you go for him? No, it was impossible. He’d be better off swallowing his feelings and keeping his mouth shut. At least that way he wouldn’t risk shucking up the friendship you two had. Just the thought of you wanting to distance yourself from him sent a wave of dread throughout his strong body.

Yet... Newt’s confusing words and weird behaviour rang in his mind again, and as he slowly put the pieces together, he began to feel a foreign spark of... hope? Was there a chance that Newt had meant what he thought he had meant? He was struggling to believe it, but shuck, how he wanted it to be true...

Gally tried to ignore the way his heartbeat was starting to accelerate as he turned on his feet in determination, already on his way to find you.

Unaware of the builder searching for you, you were just about to head out of the Deadheads, where you had spent the last half hour mulling over what to do about your feelings for Gally.

Your earlier conversation with Newt had stirred a nagging feeling of hollowness in your heart, making you contemplate your course of action (or lack thereof).

Were you getting tired of having to watch him, longingly, from afar, without doing anything about it? Absolutely you were. Did the mere thought of Gally possibly returning your feelings fill your being with ecstatic jitters? Oh, most definitely. But were you ready to finally try and shoot your shot and risk him turning you down, making you sorely regret it? You didn’t know...

If only he had given you the slightest of hints of how he truly felt about you, it would have been easier. But even though you and Gally were close, you often found it awfully challenging to see what was on his mind. You knew him well enough to figure that if he were to have any feelings he’d rather not address, he would be very skilled at hiding it.

God, why did everything have to be so difficult, couldn’t you just-

“Y/N!”

You yelped, the sudden sound of Gally’s booming voice making you jump, eyes bulging in a brief moment of panic.

Gally delivered you a small apologetic grin, putting his palms up in a calming gesture “It’s okay! Just me. Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you...”

You exhaled with relief, trying to calm your racing heart... though, with Gally standing right there in front of you, after you had just spent quite a while thinking about him, made it that much more difficult.

“Shuck... Don’t sneak up on me like that!” You chuckled, nervously, suppressing the antsy feeling within you as he slowly approached.

“I wasn’t! I was just... looking for you.”

He was? You’d had no idea. Were you supposed to meet him for lunch or something? No, you definitely wouldn’t have forgotten about that.

“Really? Why, what’s up?” You blinked, looking up at him expectantly, your slightly widened crystal-clear eyes reminding him of just how adorable he found you sometimes.

Gally’s jaw clenched, involuntarily, as he tried to visualize how he was supposed to ask you this. As much as he didn’t want it to come out so out of the blue, he couldn’t find a way to ease into it that would be any type of smooth or natural. So, with a deep intake of air, he decided to just go ahead and spit it out.

“You and Newt were talking about me earlier.”

Your heart dropped. It wasn’t a question, and you knew it, immediately beginning to feel your fingertips turning cold with impending dread. How did he know? How much did he know? Did Newt tell him something he wasn’t supposed to? You hoped he didn’t, otherwise you wouldn’t know how you were going to forgive him for spilling your deepest secret like that.

Gally’s piercing gaze bore into you with a seriousness that made your pulse quicken in a blink of an eye.

“We, uh... It was nothing, really.”

“It wasn’t nothing.” Gally insisted with as much gentleness as he could muster. However, his tensing muscles and furrowed brows gave you a clue of how agitated he felt. “I asked him, because I thought maybe I had done something, but then he said it wasn’t anything bad. Which would have been fine, if he hadn’t been so shuckin’ weird about it.” He huffed, softly, still not taking his gaze off of you as you bit your bottom lip in worriment.

“Weird, how...?” You inquired in a small voice, the fragile sound of it shooting more confusion though Gally.

“Just weird! Hell if I know what he was trying to get across, but... whatever it is, I think we should talk about it, Y/N.”

It became clear to you that there was no dodging it now. Gally already knew you had something on your mind, something concerning him, and he wasn’t about to just let it go.

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip harder as you found yourself rendered incapable of moving, Gally’s much taller form towering over you and wanting answers. Was this it? Your chance to tell him how you felt? If so, then the next few minutes were about to be either the best of your life, or the worst.

With Gally’s attention already peaked, the way your expression was suddenly overtaken with fear didn’t get lost on him, neither did the slight tremble of your fingers. Concern encompassed him as he immediately took a big step forward, fighting the powerful urge to cup your face in between his large, rough palms.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Why do you look so scared? Come on, Y/N, it’s me! You can tell me, whatever it is.”

Oh, fine! You figured this was bound to happen sooner or later, and now that Gally was so directly asking you, you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him. No matter how frightening this was, he didn’t deserve to be lied to, especially not by you, the person he trusted and truly cared about.

Overlooking the way your heart hammered in your chest, you drew in a short breath before muttering the words that had been swallowed and shoved away for months “Ihavefeelingsforyou...”

“What?” Gally frowned, shaking his head as he’d heard none of it. “Y/N, you’re gonna have to speak up.”

“Ihavefeelingsforyou” You repeated, neither louder, nor clearer than before, causing Gally’s frustration to swelter as he all but sneered.

“Y/N, I can’t hear you! Can you please-”

“I have feelings for you!” You almost shouted, the words finally leaving your mouth with no means of taking them back.

Gally froze, his mouth dropping open as he stared at you in stupefied bewilderment. He felt like he’d just got the wind knocked out of him, his breath caught in his throat.

“Y-You... You what?”

Unable to take his fervent stare on you any longer, you squeezed your eyes shut, wanting to just curl into yourself “You heard me, please don’t make me say it again...” You uttered, quietly, your heartbeat already thumping in your ears.

Gally couldn’t believe it. He’d heard you, but there was no way it was real... Newt’s odd behavior earlier made much more sense now, yet, his mind was having an impossible time wrapping around it. You had feelings... for him? You didn’t just see him as a friend or, even worse, a brother? He had been convinced that those were the only two options he’d have to accept and live with, but now, with your pretenseless proclamation, he felt as though an electric current had passed through his system.

“W-What.. You...” He stammered, trying to blink back the shock in his eyes “S-Since when...?”

A short wistful scoff escaped your mouth as you opened your eyes, but still kept them on the ground beneath your feet, unable to meet his astounded gaze.

“Since always, really... Since the first few weeks of me being here, since the day you first invited me to hang out with you at lunch...” You couldn’t help the blush that bloomed upon your cheeks as the warm memories you had of him flashed through your mind “Since you started letting me fall asleep on you at Bonfires, since you built me my very own hut, because you knew sleeping in a hammock was making my back hurt...” A timid but loving smile formed on your slightly quivering lips as Gally took in every word, his own heart threatening to beat out of his chest by that point.

“Y/N... I-I had no idea, I thought-“

“You don’t have to say anything!” You tried to assure him, ignoring the strain in your voice “Really, I understand if you don’t feel the same way... But you asked, and I just couldn’t keep it in anymore, it’s been so long-“ You trailed off, suddenly, as Gally stepped even closer to you before you even had a chance to register it. You voice died in your throat the second you felt his rough, calloused, but warm palms cupping your face. A flash of courage in his eyes, a dazed gasp from you, and then, his head dipped, his lips descending on yours.

Your form went rigid as you endeavored to process what was happening, but the abrupt and new feeling of Gally kissing you wasted no time overtaking each one of your senses, making your heart flip and shrouding you in a thick fog of pure bliss. Before you knew it, you were kissing him back, your lips moving flawlessly and wantingly against his, as your arms reached up to wind themselves around him, your fingers momentarily tracing the back of his neck. Gally grunted into the kiss, his hands smoothly lowering to your waist and pulling your closer, nearly knocking you into his firm chest. He had imagined this moment a surplus of times before, but not one of his fantasies came close to how amazing this truly felt, how warm and soft your lips were, how impossible it was to pull away. He swallowed the content little moan that escaped you, his large hands squeezing your waist tighter as you quivered at the raw magnetism and surging affection that pulled you two into each other.

Despite your heart’s frantic protests, you slowly drew back, breaking away from the sweet taste of his lips, your own practically tingling from the fervent and long-overdue kiss.

Gally leaned his forehead against yours, eyes remaining closed for the moment of you both catching your breath, still holding onto each other.

This was paradise, there was no way that it wasn’t. As if by a miracle, all the worries you’d previously had about Gally rejecting you fluttered away, leaving nothing but consuming joy and yearning for more of him in their wake.

Gally opened his eyes first - you did the same a mere second later, meeting his gleaming bluish-green gaze. He thought you were the most beautiful thing to ever exist as you beamed at him, starry-eyed and enamored.

“I-I take it, this means you feel the same way...?” You whispered, still barely a few inches apart, feeling an imminent thrill rush through your body at the enticing feeling of Gally’s fingers tenderly tracing your spine.

His warm breath washed over your lips as he chuckled, a captivating grin pulling at the corners of his mouth “As if I ever had a chance not to...”

Your smile grew brighter at his breathy statement, all the ardent feelings you had for the tough builder engulfing you and chasing away every thought that wasn’t about him.

Gally still didn’t know what made you choose him, want him, of all people, but whatever it was, he’ll take it, happily. If it meant he could have you in his arms, just like this, every day from now on, he wouldn’t dream of questioning it.

He leaned in once more, kissing the tip of your nose with a gentleness you couldn’t fathom he possessed, his grip on you tightening.

His lips then brushed against yours, and you shivered, your heart leaping at the doting whisper that trailed from him “You’re mine, Y/N...”

Gally kissed you again, softly, meaningfully, his hold on you feeling like the only thing keeping you on the ground “And I’m yours.”

Thank you for reading!

[cadouisms]

captive

ch 1 || next ||

karl heisenberg/afab!reader, 18+ ~8k summary: While in Romania as part of your university's study-away program, you accidentally stumble upon a village filled with unholy creatures, and find yourself running for your life. A strange man rescues you and saves you from the brink of death, but there's one caveat: you can't leave. As you come to find out, there's many incentives to staying.

warnings: descriptions of wounds, violence, heisenberg is Mean, collaring, bootlicking, humiliation, smoking

also on ao3

It’s cold.

You’re long past the point of being able to feel your fingertips. The snow has seeped into every inch of your skin, sinking deep into the marrow of your bones. Each heaving breath you take stabs into your chest, and the sheer cold makes your lungs burn to the point that you think you aren’t breathing in oxygen at all, just crystals of water vapor. It makes you lightheaded — or is that the result of exhaustion? You’re sure you’ve been running since the moment you stepped foot into this accursed village, but fear has warped your sense of time. It could have been mere minutes or hours, and with the way the clouds obscure any hope of moonlight, you can’t see the environment around you, much less judge the time of night.

You slow to a stop and immediately double over, frozen hands braced on your equally-frozen thighs as you try to control your breathing. It was foolish to take a walk into the forest in the dead of night, especially since you don’t know this area well, but you aren’t stupid enough to have completely lost your way. It must have been the darkness or some odd pull of fate that twisted your sense of direction, made you take a left instead of a right to end up in this hellhole. You had no idea the village existed in the first place; your host family made no mention of it to you — but then again, perhaps they weren’t expecting you to wander off on your own in the first place. Either way, you managed to stumble here completely by accident, and now you have no idea how to leave.

That is, if you manage to survive the night.

Part of you thinks that you might be dreaming, that this is a nightmare, because monsters aren’t real. But you have no other word to describe the freakish half-man, half-beast creatures that lurk around every corner of the village, vying for the opportunity to rip you to shreds. Based on their growls and snarls, you assumed they were wild animals, up until you caught one running on its hind legs as it gave chase.

You have so many questions and so little answers, but you know that the cold stings too much for this just to be a product of too many sleepless nights. However improbable, this is real, and you have a very real chance of dying.

A vicious growl sounds behind you and pure terror bolts up your spine, sending you fumbling into action as you fall into a fast sprint. The creatures are fast, but you’re blessedly faster — you’ve always been good at running and hiding. You’ve never been in a fight before and you’ve never shot a gun, so you couldn’t defend yourself even if you had some sort of weapon — but you can outspeed them.

Or at least, you could, if it wasn’t so fucking dark.

Unable to see and with panic guiding your footsteps, you slip down a small incline and tumble into icy-cold water. You gasp in both surprise and shock; whatever exhaustion you felt is replaced by pure adrenaline. The rushing stream splashes your face and sinks into the fabric of your clothes, weighing you down, and you have to half-crawl, half-drag yourself to the other side of the bank. You shut your eyes tight as the choppy flow of water laps at your face, threatening to spill down into your throat. You cough and sputter as you pull yourself up onto the ground, hastily wiping the stinging water from your eyes so that you can see.

When you open them, you find yourself face-to-face with one of the creatures. Its monstrous yellow eyes seemingly glow in the night, and despite your fear, you find that you can’t look away. Its lips pull back into a snarl as its hot, foul breath puffs against your face.

You scream.

Before you can run away, it grabs for your arm and digs its claws into your vulnerable flesh. Red-hot pain erupts from the wound and you cry out, futilely trying to pull your arm back to your side. Instead, its grip tightens as it embeds its claws into your skin, and with one abrupt movement it sends you cascading down the side of a steep hill. Your head hits a rock with a sickening crunch and you can’t do anything but lay there, stunned, as your vision swims.

Belatedly, you wonder if you still have your arm.

Your breaths come out in quiet wheezes as you stare up at the cloudy sky. In the distance, multiple pairs of yellowed eyes gaze menacingly down at your vulnerable form. More and more pop up over the ridge, and you have to wonder if there’s enough of you to go around. Would they take turns, or would they fight for it? Would there even be anything left on your bones when the carrion came? You hope they’d be kind enough to leave your face untouched — how else would your body be identified?

You let your eyes drift shut, prepared to surrender to your obvious fate. You’re tired, goddamnit. You’ve been running for far too long, and you don’t see any end to it. Maybe they’ll eat you and instead you’ll wake up from this nightmare with the blankets kicked off your body, inviting the cold chill of winter to send you to this hellhole in your dreams.

You hear a howl — it’s an awful human imitation of a wolf’s howl, rougher around the edges and in the wrong octave, but it screams of violence, of a hunter that has found its prey. The others join in until the hills ring with the promise of your death and it sends such a chill down your spine that your eyes snap open, fear clearing your mind.

Fuck, maybe you are as dumb as some say. If you’re going to die here, you’d rather bleed out painlessly than be ripped to shreds.

You flip over onto your stomach. In the dim lighting, you can just barely make out what looks to be a hole. There’s no chance for you to outrun them now, so hiding is your only option. The snow crushes almost pleasantly beneath your hand as you attempt to drag yourself to the hole, but you find that your left arm is all but unusable. It hurts to move it, much less support your weight with it. The only thing you can do is struggle closer to the hole, inch by tortuous inch.

The howling is getting closer, you think. You peer over the edge — it looks to be a steep drop, but the opening is large enough for you to just barely slip through. You pray it’s too small for the creatures to follow, and with what little strength you have left, you let yourself fall headfirst down into the hole.

You land flat on your back with a soft thud, and though the impact shocks you, you can’t even muster the strength to yelp. Something hums faintly in your ear, reminding you of the buzz of electricity. You turn your head and rest your cheek against the cool earth, letting the noise lull you to sleep as your exhaustion finally takes you under.

  Soft.

Warm.

Bright.

It feels like your body is too heavy and yet far away, all at once. Like you’re drifting in a deep sea of nothingness, weighed down by incalculable pressure. Absently, you wonder if this is what death is like — senseless and empty.

God, but you’re exhausted. Are you supposed to feel so bone-tired when you’re dead? It’s as if you went days without sleeping, like something had come along and sucked all the energy from your body. If you concentrate, you find that you can curl your hand into a fist. Your fingertips catch on rough fabric, not unlike the threadbare blankets you’d been given for your bed, and you rub the cloth between forefinger and thumb. It pulls almost unpleasantly at your skin — not dead, then, you think. You aren’t sure if you’re disappointed or relieved.

Blearily, you open your eyes. Muted colors blur and shift until they settle into shapes. There’s a nightstand directly in front of you, topped with a small lamp that gives the room its warm, soft glow. In the corner of your vision you spot the edge of the pillow your cheek must be resting on, made a dull-yellow color with age. Your neck twinges as you turn your head, and you wince — definitely not dead, then.

You stare at the mottled ceiling above as you take stock of how you feel. Your mouth is cotton-dry, tongue thick and stuck behind your teeth. There’s a dull ache spread throughout your whole body, like you’ve been hit with a truck, and you start to wonder if maybe that’s the case. You can’t remember what you were doing, or why you’re here. You don’t even recognize this place to begin with, and the more you try to remember, the more it seems just out of your grasp, like a word left on the tip of your tongue.

A knob turns, and your gaze snaps to the door just beyond the foot of the bed. It creaks open to reveal a broad figure stepping into the room, and as you catch the hint of its shaggy hair your memories come flooding back: the forest, your misstep into the village, and the awful creatures that lurked within. An image of glowing eyes and snarling teeth flashes just behind your eyes and your adrenaline spikes, causing you to shoot up in bed and scramble backwards away from the figure.

Pain accompanies the sudden movement and you can’t hold back a whimper of pain — you’re more hurt than you initially thought. The figure laughs almost mockingly as it approaches you. “Ah, so Sleeping Beauty finally awakes. I was almost hoping you wouldn’t.”

It — he, you realize — steps close enough that the bedside lamp illuminates his features. Most of his expression is obscured behind his round shades and the wide brim of his hat, but you can still make out his wolfish grin, surrounded by his dark and unkempt facial hair. You shudder.

“Wh —” Your throat protests your attempts to talk and all that comes out is a rough squeak. The man laughs again, obviously finding your awful situation humorous, and your gaze follows him across the room as he picks up a glass of water. You look at him with suspicion as he offers it to you.

“What? You think I would go through the trouble of saving your sorry ass just to poison you?” There’s an edge to his tone that borders on annoyance, and his smirk falls when you make no move to grab the proffered glass. With a huff, he takes a swig from it. “Look. It’s fine.”

Part of you screams not to trust him. You look from between him and the glass, internally debating whether or not to take it, and the man’s patience quickly seems to run out.

“Don’t be ungrateful. I’ll fucking pour it down your throat if I have to.”

That settles it. Hurriedly, you reach out and take it from him. The liquid is cool and refreshing, a balm for your sore throat, and it soothes all the way down. You find yourself uncaring that your lips are technically where his had been just moments ago, or that the water tastes slightly stale — you drain it in just a few large gulps.

As you lower the glass, you catch sight of your left arm and startle: it’s been wrapped in off-white bandages, and you can see where your blood has seeped through to stain the fabric. When you attempt to move it, pain shoots through your limb and you grimace. It doesn’t hurt nearly as bad as before, more comparable to a muscle ache, and for that you’re grateful. You’re happy you still have an arm at all.

“You were in pretty bad shape when they brought you to me.” His words give you pause — who’s they? — but instead of speaking, you watch with trepidation as the strange man reaches into the pocket of his trench coat. To your relief, he pulls a half-burned cigar out along with a zippo and relights it, filling your nose with the acrid smell of burnt tobacco. Wispy trails of smoke accompany his next words. “I’m impressed you made it through the night!”

You’ve calmed down from your initial panic, but something about this man sets you on edge and makes you wary. Still, you know that here — wherever that may be — is safer than being outside in the freezing cold and where those monsters might still linger.

“Where —” You pause to try and coax wetness back into your mouth, to ease the sandpaper-quality of your throat. “Where is this?”

“My factory.” The cherry of his cigar burns strikingly red as he takes a slow, deep drag. He exhales a cloud of smoke that drifts upward, catching on the scant light of the room. For a moment, his glasses stand out stark-black against the white smoke, reminding you inversely of those creatures. It’s not the whites of his eyes you see but the absence of them; his humanity concealed. He rests his foot against the edge of the bed and leans forward, bracing an elbow on his raised knee. “Y’got lucky, kid. You made it pretty close to the boundary of my property. How’d you end up here in the first place?”

You unconsciously lean a bit farther back, unnerved by his presence. “I got...lost,” you admit.

He snorts. “Lost, huh? You must be dumber than you look!”

You bristle. You want to tell him that it was dark, that you couldn’t see where you were going, that you were running for your life — but he speaks before you have a chance to even open your mouth.

“Then again, you’re not from around here, are you? Guess I can’t blame ya, though it’s a miracle you wandered this far out.” He taps the edge of his cigar and sends ash drifting down to the thin sheet acting as your blanket. You have to resist the urge to wipe it off.

If he knows you aren’t from the village, though, then maybe… “How do I get back?” you ask, unable to keep the eagerness from your voice. “How do I leave?”

“Leave?” The man tilts his head, mouth curving into a dangerous grin. His lips pull back to reveal his teeth and the light seems to glint off them, making you feel like the lamb before the wolf, caught in its deception. “Oh, no, sweetheart. You aren’t leaving.”

Your heart drops in your chest. “Wh-what?”

He laughs, cruel and mocking. “I mean, you can try if you want! It’d make for one helluva show. I’d even give you directions to get out of here!” He steps back, planting both feet solidly on the floor below. “But, even if you escaped here alive, you’d still have the lycans waiting for you back in the village, and I doubt you’d survive another encounter with them.”

“Lycans?” you echo.

“Oh, come on.” The man gestures to your bandaged arm with his cigar, flinging more ash around. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten. They almost killed you, remember?”

“Those...creatures?” Lycans? Like lycanthropy? “They’re...you mean…”

“Careful not to think too hard. I can see the cogs turning in your head, poor thing.” He drops his cigar and crushes it underneath his boot, grinning smugly all the while. “I’ll leave you alone to process this. I’m sure realizing fairy-tale monsters are real can be quite the traumatic experience.” His laughter trails after him as he disappears out of the room. The door shuts behind him with a soft click.

You stare blankly ahead, mind reeling from all the new information.

Surely he wasn’t serious…? He’d let you leave. He was just waiting for you to recover. Right? Right.

And the werewolves — lycans, as he’d called them — he was kidding about that too! You must’ve hit your head real bad, or made them up as the result of some weird fever dream. You’re still dreaming, you conclude. A dream within a dream.

You lay back against the bed and close your eyes. A dream. You’ll wake up soon, you’re sure of it.

...Except the longer you lie there, the more you begin to suspect that he was telling the truth. Your mind buzzes, too noisy to let you sleep despite your exhaustion, so you resolve to at least explore the room a little.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed and realize you’re still wearing all your clothes, even your shoes. You toe your sneakers off and let them drop to the floor below, then slowly stand. As long as you don’t move too fast, you figure you’ll be okay — you hurt, true, but you don’t feel on the verge of passing out.

The bed that you’d been resting on isn’t a bed so much as it is a stained mattress on an old frame. The sheet you’d been covered with was just that — a sheet. It looks as threadbare as you expected, like it had been in use for years.

The drawer in the bedside table reveals nothing but metallic odds and ends, and the small wardrobe is completely empty. The lack of items and the thin coating of dust along every surface makes the room feel impersonal, lonely.

You discover a thin door that you hadn’t previously noticed. The hinges squeak when you push it open and the light takes a moment to flicker on, but it turns out to be a small bathroom. Cramped as it is, there’s a full-sized tub along the far wall, and your brain lights up at the chance to be clean. You close the door behind you as you step fully inside. There’s a toilet to your right and a sink to your left, and you pause as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.

You look like shit.

Dark circles sit heavy under your eyes, made more prominent by the overhead light, and there’s all sorts of grime caked onto your face. As you strip your clothing, you discover more dirt, more blood, and multiple scrapes and bruises. There’s several smaller wounds that obviously had been left to scab over rather than cleaned and bandaged, and you scratch off a bit of dried blood with a scowl. You’re grateful that stranger didn’t strip you, but sheesh. It makes you feel a little gross knowing you’d been sitting in your own filth for god knows how long.

Despite it all, you seem to have come out of it just a little worse for wear. The last thing is to check on your arm, and though it doesn’t hurt so much anymore, you’re a little frightened of what you may find. Carefully, you unwrap the bandages, fully expecting to see an ugly mess of twisted flesh — only to find your arm already scabbed over, like it’s been healing for weeks. It doesn’t have the tell-tale signs of infection, either; the area around the wound isn’t hot or inflamed.

Either it was less severe than you thought, or that man is some sort of miracle doctor.

You shrug off the weird feeling in your chest and turn to the tub, twisting the knobs. The water that pours out is dirty brown from disuse, and you wait until it runs clear before you plug the drain and allow the tub to fill. You sink down into the lukewarm water, drawing your knees to your chest, and breathe out a quiet sigh. The room fills with silence, the faint hum of electricity only broken by the occasional drip, drip from the faucet.

You break down.

You had almost died. You know what you saw — you didn’t hallucinate those creatures, those lycans, and you have the wounds to prove it. You’re in a strange land, far away from your real home, back in America. When your advisor presented you with the option to study away in Europe for a semester, it had seemed like a good idea at the time — you were a second-year student with zero prospects and zero specializations, and it would be fully covered by your financial aid.

But fuck, if you had known coming to Romania would end up like this, you would have never agreed in the first place. It was a last-ditch effort to find something you were passionate about, like the movies, when people go to Europe to “find themselves” or whatever — but, looking back, you suppose they’re always set in Italy or France, not Romania.

Instead, all you got was an apathetic host family who wouldn’t even indulge your half-assed attempts to speak their language, a stronger sense of isolation, and kidnapped, since it seems like the only way you’re leaving is in a bodybag.

You wrap your arms tight around yourself, fingernails making half-crescents in your skin, and stifle a sob. Even if they’d be able to find this place, no one would be coming for you. Not your host family, and certainly not your real family, as you haven’t spoken to them since you graduated high school. Outside of the occasional classmate, you have no friends, either.

The man said he didn’t plan on killing you, but maybe he should have never rescued you in the first place.

By the time the water turns cold your tears have dried, and you slowly uncurl yourself from your sitting-ball position so you can properly clean yourself. There’s no soap, leaving you to methodically rub at your skin until all traces of dirt and grime are gone. The water turns a murky grey, and you drain and refill it once more before you wash your face and hair.

You don’t feel exactly clean, merely… less dirty, but it helped, you think. So did the crying.

Water pools around your feet as you step out of the tub, and to your dismay, you can’t find any towels. Instead, you come upon a roll of bandages and a bottle of mysterious fluid simply marked ‘first aid.’ There’s no other description or any sort of warning label, but it only takes you a second to decide to use it. Still nude, you liberally pour it over your wounded arm, and then rub some on your fingertips to massage into your smaller cuts and scrapes. It doesn’t sting, to your surprise, and it smells oddly minty. You bandage your arm and slide on your underclothes, leaving the rest of your dirtied clothes to sit in a heap on the floor.

You leave the bathroom and flop unceremoniously onto the mattress. The cool air makes goosebumps prickle on your damp skin, but you don’t have the energy to do anything more than half-heartedly wrap the sheet around your body. You feel just as tired as you did when you woke up, and though it’s been two hours since then at most, the pull of sleep coaxes your eyelids to close, and you drift off into a fitful rest.

   “Breakfast!”

The door ricochets off the wall with a loud bang, jolting you out of a dead sleep. The man from earlier stands in the doorway with a small tray carried in his hands, that same insufferable grin sitting lopsided on his mouth as he takes glee in your panic. “Aww, poor baby,” he coos, “did I scare you?”

“Yes,” you hiss. His shaded gaze lingers on you for just a moment too long and you remember you’re very underdressed, heaps of exposed skin making you feel vulnerable in his strange presence. You scramble to tug the blanket around yourself as your face heats up and the man cruelly laughs again.

“You make it too easy.” You tense as he all but struts over, workboots heavy against the floor, but he only comes close enough to set the tray on the bedside table. There’s some slices of bread, cheese, and unidentifiable meat, along with a glass of water. The dishes look grimy and unclean, but the food looks fine.

You take some comfort in knowing he doesn’t intend on starving you. He may want to keep you trapped here, but at least he doesn’t seem to want to make you miserable. “...Thanks,” you finally murmur after a moment. Your eyes flit from him to the food, your distrust evident in your face.

“Don’t worry. It’s not poisoned,” he remarks, obviously noticing your hesitation.

You blanch. “Is that supposed to be reassuring?”

His shit-eating grin says otherwise, but you’re starting to suspect he just likes toying with you, the bastard. “Eat it or not, I don’t care. Just don’t come crying to me when you get hungry.” He turns on his heel, his coat swishing at his ankles, and makes his way toward the door.

“Wait —”

“We can chitchat later. I have work to do.”

“Can you at least tell me your name?”

He pauses, one foot in the hallway, and turns to look at you over his shoulder. His hat obscures most of his face, leaving you to stare at the arrogant curl of his mouth. “Heisenberg,” he finally says, and leaves.

The door shuts behind him. In the silence, you can faintly hear his footsteps fade away until the only thing left is the quiet hum in your ears.

You reach for the tray. The bread is somehow equally stale and moist, but in the worst combination. The unidentifiable meat is also...unidentifiable, but it doesn’t smell unpleasant nor have a bad taste. You tear the bread into manageable chunks and make little finger sandwiches. It only takes a couple bites for you to realize you’re ravenous and you quickly devour the plate of food, leaving you with a sense of that’s all? as soon as you finish.

He brought you food, so naturally that means he has a kitchen. It’s the logical conclusion, you tell yourself, and you set the tray back on the nightstand as you carefully get up from the bed. The bone-deep weariness from earlier still lingers, exhaustion pulling at your limbs, but you feel much better than before. A twinge of pain shoots up your arm if you move it incorrectly, but otherwise it doesn’t bother you.

Remembering that you’re still practically naked, you grab the sheet from the bed and wrap it around you like some sort of toga before you step to the main door. The knob turns easily under your hand, but apprehension prevents you from pushing it open. You don’t know what you’re expecting, but all kidnappers have some weird dungeon-esque room, right? Maybe he’s keeping you just beyond his torture chamber or his murder room or his —

— Study?

The door leads into another relatively-normal looking room. It’s about the size of the bedroom with a desk covered with miscellaneous books and papers at one end of it. The rest of the wallspace is covered with bookshelves, but most of their racks are empty. Instead, metal bits and bobs cover a large amount of the surface and a good bit of the floor. The man — Heisenberg, you remind yourself — did say that you were in his factory, which would explain the abundance of scrap metal around. The question is: what does he manufacture?

Murder weapons, your brain helpfully supplies, which you promptly ignore. You hope it’s something reasonable, like cars or machinery, and not something you’d see in a cheesy horror film.

There’s a rather large and metallic door on the opposite wall from which you entered, and you eagerly attempt to open it. There’s no handle or knob, meaning you can’t pull it open, and no matter how much force you apply, you can’t push it open. It doesn’t budge under your weight, acting more like a stone wall than an exit.

You sigh. No foray into the kitchens, then. The only rooms you have access to are this one, the bedroom, and the bathroom, presumably for a reason. How big is this factory, you wonder? What else lies beyond your small prison? What is Heisenberg hiding?

You give up trying to open the door, and instead explore the study. Most of the books are technical ones about machinery and mechanical know-how, but there’s the odd anatomical book thrown in. On the desk you find an old and weathered notebook, though it’s mostly blank. The pages that are filled have been written in an almost illegible scrawl, like chicken scratch or a doctor’s signature, and you can’t even begin to make heads or tails of what it says.

There’s nothing else of note in the room. No key, no hidden secret evil plan, nothing. You return to your room and resolve to find out what you can organically through talking with Heisenberg.

 Or at least, that was your plan.

You still spend a large portion of your days sleeping, both body and mind needing the extra rest in order to recover from your ordeal in the village. Your energy comes and goes, but you find that your arm is healing incredibly. It’s going to leave a large and ugly scar, but by the third time you change your bandages, you realize there’s no need to cover it again. Your other scrapes and cuts have all but healed completely, and even your bruises have faded to a muted yellow.

Heisenberg is...well. You only see him when he stops by to bring you food, and even then his visits are short. He doesn’t ask how you’re healing, nor does he entertain you with idle chatter — he enters the bedroom in the loudest, most obnoxious way possible (to frighten you), hands you your food, and leaves. On one occasion, he had come in smelling heavily of oil and smoke and had seemed like his mind was elsewhere. He hadn’t even reacted when you called his name.

Most other times, he will at least respond if you speak — like when you asked him for toiletries and he’d groused that you were “a handful.” Nonetheless, you found tattered towels and some half-used soap bars at the foot of the bed afterward.

He almost always manages to sidestep your questioning or answer with a non-answer, but you remember one particular conversation that made your hair stand on end.

“Are you a doctor?”

“You could say that.” And the way he’d grinned had unnerved you, like he was amused by how little you knew, like he had a secret he didn’t intend to share.

He’s a threat, your brain had whispered, but part of you knows he isn’t all bad. He’s certainly less creepy than some Tinder dates you’ve been on, and he’s annoyingly charismatic in an asshole sort of way. Despite everything, you feel oddly drawn to him — though you hesitate to call it anything but simple curiosity. So much mystery surrounds him and his actions, and he constantly defies your horror movie expectations for how a kidnapping should play out.

Escaping sits at the forefront of your mind, but there isn’t much you can do. There are no windows in any of the three rooms you have access to, and the only door that leads (presumably) out into the greater factory is constantly locked. You’ve tried opening the door after Heisenberg delivers your meals in the hope that he’d conveniently forget to lock it, but you’ve had no such luck.

Even if you had a viable escape plan, there’s the issue of actually physically being able to escape. You wear fatigue like a second skin even with all the bedrest you’ve managed to accumulate, and though the physical wounds from your night in the village are practically nonexistent, the thought of having to go through all that again is enough to send your heart racing.

Despite this, you do what you can to fill your time and make it more bearable. You wash your clothes with the soap Heisenberg had supplied to avoid sitting in your own filth day in and day out, and even wash the sheets to the bed. Your thoughts are equally divided between wishful fantasies of escaping, wild daydreams, and wondering when Heisenberg will bring your next meal.

Eventually, sheer boredom drives you to steal a book from the study. It’s one on the intricate makings of a pre-1970s-era vehicle, and though the technical jargon goes way over your head, it helps break up the monotony of your current existence.

(You did, at one point, attempt to exercise to pass the time. It took two sit-ups before you promptly decided it was a horrible idea and you’d rather rot in bed.)

Unwillingly, your life becomes a cycle of wishing and waiting. Wishing for food, for entertainment; waiting for Heisenberg, for a chance to escape. Somehow, your chance arrives much sooner than expected.

With the lack of natural light and your own messed up internal clock, you have no real marker for the passage of time. Heisenberg comes too irregularly for you to rely on him to mark “morning” and “night” with his visits, and you spent so much time sleeping that your own biological clock is out of whack, so the best you can do is guess. It’s on “day” five by your own calculations that you catch your lucky break.

A few minutes after Heisenberg drops off your breakfast, once you’re certain his footsteps are long gone, you head to the door in the study. You press your hands to the cool metal and push, expecting it to be as unyielding as ever — only for it to give under your weight and creak open.

Your stomach drops. For as often as you thought about escaping, most of your daydreams were power fantasies about fighting off lycans and cleverly making your way back out of the village. You have no plan for actually leaving the factory.

Familiar anxiety begins to crawl up your spine as you contemplate what to do. You could return to the bedroom and actually formulate a plan, but — no. The chances of this happening again are slim. You don’t want to risk Heisenberg coming back to lock the door and leaving you trapped here due to your own cowardice. You inhale deeply to steel your nerves, forcing your fear on the backburner, and step out.

It’s dark. Your eyes adjust to the difference in lighting as you let the door shut behind you, casting away your only remaining source of brightness. The difference in atmosphere is like night and day; where your rooms were warm and soft, the metal corridor you now stand in is cold and inhospitable. It’s a place meant for machines, not humans. The ever-present hum that rang faintly in your rooms seems louder, as if you’re closer to the source, and yet it almost makes your skin crawl, like the memory of nails on a chalkboard. You shiver.

Red emergency lights guide your way as you explore your surroundings, giving it the sinister vibe you were expecting à la horror movies. Maybe Heisenberg doesn’t have a specific torture chamber, you think. Maybe it’s the whole factory.

If only you knew.

The corridor leads you straight to another door, which swings open to reveal yet another darkened hallway. It branches off into two separate directions, however, and you remember how Heisenberg had jokingly offered to give you maps to aid your escape. Would it really be necessary?

Yes, you come to find out. You had picked the left hallway out of some vague advice of turning left to escape a maze, but it only seems to lead to more doors, most of which are locked. The single unlocked one takes you around into a large, looping corridor, until you end up right where you started.

You sigh, and turn right this time.

Like before, you find several possible exits, though only one opens. The instant you step through, you feel something in the air...shift. The usual hum is gone, replaced with dead silence, and the room is pitch black. Dread sits heavy at the back of your throat. Everything inside you screams for you not to continue on, but there’s no other option. There's nowhere else to go.

You feel around until the flat of your hand finds the wall, and you walk ahead at a slow pace. The uncertainty of what lies ahead makes your mind conjure up far-fetched and impossible images, and every time your hand brushes up against something unexpected, you jump back with your heart in your throat. You navigate with your other hand extended far out in front of you to avoid colliding into obstacles, and your feet shuffle awkwardly forward, inch by tortuous inch.

You pause as your hand catches on some round protrusion in the wall. You grope blindly at it in hopes of finding some mechanism or lever, but instead your hand passes over rough fabric. It reminds you of material used to make pants, oddly enough, and as you apply pressure you realize it’s covering something firm. You bring both hands together to feel the object and imagine some sort of cylinder under your palms, and as you slide them upward your fingertips skirt over a thickened edge that leads directly to something disturbingly chilled, which gives slightly under pressure. Surely it isn’t…?

An overhead light flickers on. Your hands are on a person. You’re touching their leg. What you had felt had indeed been pants. Your gaze travels upward — they’re naked from the waist up, but their body looks to be horribly mutilated. You can see multiple scars and literal patchworks of flesh that had to be stapled together, and there’s an odd device that encircles their head, like some strange visor, or VR helmet. Their skin is cold to the touch and an ashen grey color.

It’s a corpse, you finally realize. They’re dead.

Except — no, they can’t be, because they start to move.

A service alarm blares loudly as hydraulics hiss, and the body starts to careen forward out of its little pod. You stumble to the side, out of the way, only for the body to turn toward you as if possessed. Something starts to whir.

It has drills for hands.

How the fuck did you not notice that it has drills for hands?

A scream lodges in your throat as the thing advances on you, and you bolt down the hallway. To your horror, there’s rows upon rows of the holding cells, and you praise whatever deity currently watching this shitshow that none of the others seem awake.

You barrel down the hallway at full speed and throw your weight at the door. It bursts open to a wider area, and you barely stop your momentum in time to keep yourself from launching over a waist-tall guardrail. You white-knuckle the bannister as you stare below into unsettled waters.

Slowly, you lift your head. This place is big, far bigger than you ever imagined it to be — you’re in some spacious middle-ground that seems to stretch on endlessly. There’s many levels above you, too many for your panicked brain to count, and several still below you. In the distance, several conveyors transport what look to be human bodies to different parts of the factory.

You think you might throw up, or cry, or piss yourself, or all of the above; but instead you push off the rail and start running. You have to get out before you get turned into one of those things.

A large metal beam drops directly in your path, a few inches shy of crushing you, and stops you dead in your tracks. Another lands to its side, and then yet another on its opposite side, effectively blocking you from advancing.

“You should’ve told me you were gonna make a run for it!”

You turn sharply on your heel — Heisenberg. He saunters forward, cigar smoke trailing after him. In the dim lighting of the factory, you can just barely make out the smirk playing on his lips. “I said I would give you maps. You might’ve had a fighting chance, but you’re shit outta luck without them.”

How can he sound so amused? So casual? As if he isn’t any better than the lycans that prowl in the village. “Y-you’re a monster,” you hiss, though your voice lacks any of the necessary bite to truly appear angry, your feelings too warped by fear and terror.

The smirk drops from his face. The door you had just came from swings open as the creature reappears, its drills spinning menacingly. “Y’know,” Heisenberg begins, flicking ash from his cigar, “you must be pretty dumb to insult the one guy that can help you.” Loosened metal bits start to levitate as if propelled by some unseen force, Heisenberg at the center. He flicks a hand outward and one of the beams from earlier knocks into the backs of your legs and drags you closer to the creature, shortening the distance to it by more than half.

You’re trapped. You may be quick, but there’s no way you’re limber enough to dodge the creature’s drills to get to the exit behind it. One half of the walkway is completely barred off, and there’s no way you’d survive the drop into the waters below. The only option, then, is to run to Heisenberg — as if he planned it from the start.

You want to prove him wrong, you want to be the strong, self-reliant hero like in your daydreams, but you simply aren’t strong enough. This place is too strange, too twisted, and you’re too used to your life from before.

So you run to him.

You run, and you fucking trip.

You barely manage to brace your arms out in front of you in time to prevent your nose from smashing against the floor. You twist onto your back as the mechanical whirring grows louder. The manmachinemonster advances forward at a frightening pace, its mouth open in some macabre grin, and despair clutches at your heart. You crawl backward, feet sliding against the walkway as you desperately attempt to get away. Heisenberg merely watches the spectacle, leisurely puffing on his cigar.

“Please!” you cry out. “Please, I’m sorry!” You don’t have the strength to stand; you cling desperately to his pant leg as if you were a child and bury your face in the outside of his thigh, squeezing your eyes shut against your eventual demise.

He laughs and you can hear the genuine amusement in it. “Enough!” he shouts. The drills stop and the noise around you grows quiet. You stay like that, face pressed against his leg, heart in your throat, until you can gather enough courage to look.

Horrified, you watch as Heisenberg lifts the creature into the air, guided upward by the metal attachment on its head as if pulled upward by some magnet. He slings its body over the guardrails where it hovers mid-air over a deadly drop. It squirms in his invisible gasp, limbs twitching grotesquely in an attempt to find purchase, like an insect in its last moments.

Wordlessly, he lets the body plummet. You’re thankful you can’t watch it drop beyond the horizon of the walkway, thankful you can’t hear the sound of its body hitting the water below.

“You made me waste a perfectly good soldier.” His tone still sounds amiable, like he was discussing the weather, but there’s something else just bubbling under the surface. “I can’t even repurpose the materials.”

You’re still clinging to his leg, your hands fisted into the fabric of his pants. “I’m s..sorry,” you repeat again, trying not to incur his ire. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean…”

He tilts his head down. Between his dark shades and the way his hat casts a long shadow across his face, it’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking. Yet, you don’t miss the way his upper lip curls into a snarl as he speaks. “Didn’t mean what? Didn’t mean to run away? Or did you just not mean to get caught?”

His boot suddenly connects with your ribs, hard, and the single kick is powerful enough to send you sprawling across the floor. Your back slams against the metal guardrails, denting them with your impact. “Dumb fucking mutt,” he spits.

You can’t breathe. His kick forced all the air from your lungs, and though you aren’t sure if he damaged something important, it sure as shit feels like it. You gasp out a silent sob as you curl inward, arms wrapped protectively around your middle in an attempt to self-soothe the pain that courses through you.

His footsteps echo against the metal as he stalks forward, slow and steady. Hopelessness eats at your core — he’ll kill you. He’s held back his murderous tendencies all this time and now he’s going to kill you, he’s gonna turn you into one of those creatures and mutilate you beyond all recognition and —

He kicks you onto your back. Your ribs open and you gasp, breathing in deep as air finally fills your lungs. “Sss’rry, ‘m sor—”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” He digs the heavy toe of his boot into your vulnerable stomach, pressing hard enough to guarantee an ugly bruise, and you cry out as pain shoots through your frayed nerves. He holds his foot in place to keep you in agony, and tears fall freely from your eyes, blurring your vision.

He could crush you. He could kill you. You thought he was scary, but you didn’t expect this. He’s like some mad scientist with superpowers. The lycans were one thing, but now you know you have no chance of escaping. You’re going to die here, whether by his hand or the hand of his creations.

“Please,” you beg, voice hinging on a whine. You cough and thick strings of blood dribble down your chin, mixing with your saliva. You sound absolutely pitiful, and you would be disgusted with yourself if you weren’t so fucking scared.

Heisenberg tsks softly. “Aw, don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m not entirely merciless.” He nudges your face with his boot. “I’ll let you make it up to me. Show me you can behave, and I’ll consider letting you live.” It hovers above your mouth, and you stare up at him through your tears, confusion evident in the scrunch of your brows. “Well?” he prompts. “Stick out that tongue of yours.”

Hesitantly, you do. Spit and blood both drool from your mouth as you part your lips and let your tongue loll out. He presses the underside of his shoe against your tongue and it clicks: he wants you to lick his boot.

Heat coils low in your abdomen as you start to drag your tongue against the leather, lapping up the grime and dirt from its surface. Copious amounts of saliva and blood dribble continuously from your mouth, enough that you can hardly taste the actual repugnant flavor of his shoe. Above, Heisenberg inhales from his cigar, blowing out a cloud of smoke as he watches you from behind his shades. It’s almost calming, in a way, so much so that you’re almost unafraid, and more like —

No. This is gross. You must have hit your head and knocked something loose, because there’s nothing sexy about this, there’s no way you like it. Fear and pleasure are closely related in the brain so maybe your body just got the signals mixed up, because there is no way this is making you wet, there’s no —

An undignified whine slips from your throat, and you hope that Heisenberg misinterprets it as something pained and sad, not as the thinly-veiled desperate noise it truly is.

His mouth curves into his trademark grin as he pulls his spit-slicked boot away. “Maybe you’ll be good for something after all,” he murmurs appraisingly.

And then, blissfully, everything turns black.

  Your head is pounding. It takes everything in you to open your eyes just a crack, but the warm lighting proves too much and you pinch them shut against the threat of tears. Your mouth feels like cotton, and yet you can taste the faint metallic twang of blood mixed with something else, something earthy. Your ribcage hurts, your stomach hurts, your everything hurts — and then you remember: the twisted corpse made of man and metal; the truth about the factory; Heisenberg, so breathtakingly mean — and you shoot up into a sitting position.

You’re in the bedroom again, legs twisted into the sheet on the bed. The door is shut, and there’s no one else in here with you. No weird creature, no Heisenberg, no one. You turn your head to scope out the whole room, and —

You fucking jingle.

Alarmed, you reach for your throat. There’s a piece of metal warped around your neck, and at its center hangs a little bell, like what you would see on a pet collar. Seeing is believing, though, so you stumble from the bed and into the bathroom so you can look at yourself in the mirror.

Bloodshot eyes stare back at you, your face grimy and your mouth stained with blood, but it’s there. It looks like a piece of metal scrap had been twisted and beaten into a circle, then soldered together around your neck. When you shake your head, the bell jingles cheerfully in your ears.

The bastard had fucking collared you.

[tokisguitarpick]

interruption part.1

characters: Skwisgaar Skwigelf x Reader 

doods, I really tried to make this one giant piece but I said that on friday, it’s fuckin wednesday, work has been kicking my ass, here’s what I got so far

The first time you met Skwisgaar Skwigelf was unfortunately also the first time you pissed off Skwisgaar Skwigelf. 

In your defense, you thought it would be prudent to bond with the support staff- your boss Charles, the music producer Abigail and her assistant Dick, the Klokateers, the people around the band- as soon as you could to cement your place at work first. After that, then you would really worry about Dethklok liking you. It's not that you were rude to them, hell your whole job was making sure their needs were met and they were secure and happy on a day to day basis. But if Charles asked you for a report at the same time Murderface told you to go get his dethphone from his bedroom, Charles took first priority. Which was why when you were sent to deliver a fax from Crystal Mountain Records to Abigail, you went diligently down the 4 floors it took to reach the studio and entered quietly, recognizing the red recording light on over the door. A brightly melodious guitar solo rang through the gothic studio rooms, sounding as exquisite as a Beethoven composition when unaccompanied by the rest of the death metal band, and you hovered by the door for a moment. You were nervous to disturb now that you heard exactly what they were recording. But your rationale won out and you decided to simply slip the fax to Abigail and leave.

Approaching her desk, you got a clear look at the source of the music and it caused your step to falter. Skwisgaar, tall and imposing, shredded his guitar with deft hands inside the recording booth, his fingers moving faster on the Gibson neck than your eyes could follow.

Instead, they moved to his face, taking in his closed eyes, his full lips parted, and a light sheen of sweat covering his skin as he worked. His long, cornsilk hair was uncharacteristically swept up in a messy bun at the nape of his neck, short tendrils made loose from exertion clinging to the edges of his face or else flowing around him. A bead of sweat caught your eye as it rolled down his Adams apple and your gaze trailed to his thin, defined arms and the muscles working under his skin, his long fingers showing off every ounce of skill he had. He looked nothing like the guitarist that took the stage with Dethklok, giving a heavy and thrashing performance. He looked at peace, a man entirely in his element. He looked heavenly.

Suddenly, every headline calling him a rock and roll god over a photo of him covered in ghoulish makeup felt entirely false. If only they could see what was in front of you now.

Sadly, all good things come to an end. Your faltered step caused you to squeak as you caught your balance. Abigail jumped and turned in her chair. The music ended with an abrupt squeal and Skwisgaar's icy blue eyes snapped open.

"Oh, who the fucks is this?!" he spat into the mic and you blushed, embarrassment finding a home in the pit of your stomach. Abigail sighed, looking you over with a crooked eyebrow.

"So sorry, I was just bringing this to you." You handed Abigail the fax and she unfolded the paper to read it over. Skwisgaar, who seemed to find your interruption bothersome enough, bristled as your eyes flickered between him and the music producer. He yanked the guitar strap off his shoulder and snarled, "Not evens anythings important! Get the fucks out of heres!" He held the guitar by the neck and gestured aggressively with it.

You jumped, turning tail and hurrying away as fast as you could without running. The only reasoning for his behavior came at the end of an email from Abigail, a throwaway line about it being crunch time with the production of the newest album. But sadly, that was the start of your professional relationship with the Dethklok member and it was a shame, that one instance coloring the way he treated your presence in Mordhaus. He didn't reply when you asked the band questions, he turned his nose up when you had to contain some of the band's more brutal ideas, he only ever referred to you as a servant, the list went on.

It was taxing and honestly, a little upsetting. You had managed to piss off Nathan your first week here as well but by the next morning, he greeted you with a joke about it and asked you to make a pot of coffee. You spent many afternoons wondering if there was any way to make it up to the haughty guitarist. And wondering what exactly you needed to make up in the first place.

The next climactic moment in your relationship came around the four month mark of your employment.

The acrid smell of burning plastic reached you as you walked past the hallway leading to the kitchen, making you sigh. You put a jump in your step, something at odds with the very exasperated expression you could feel on your face, and hurried to the source of the smell, the armful of dirty laundry you'd picked up in the living room discarded as you jogged. Entering the kitchen, it took no time to zero in on the small fire slowly growing on the stovetop. 

Toki and Skwisgaar stood over it, the former blowing frantically at the quickly blackening frying pan while the former flapped at the fire with a hand towel. The mere sight of Toki's long hair billowing around the open flame made your chest seize. "Guys, guys," you will be the first to admit, your voice came out in a shriek, "stop! Move!"

Toki jumped away from the stove with a welp, his eyes wild when he saw you. You snatched the fire extinguisher off the wall by the door and ran up to the stove. Skwisgaar still hadn't moved. If anything, he seemed to step in your way, blocking you from the fire. "I has it under controls, leave." His voice was hard and cold, almost jarring in contrast to the scene playing out.

 And in your bewilderment, you snapped. Months of irritation compounding itself into a rage that bubbled past your lips, you growled, "Skwisgaar Skwigelf. If you think-", you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and wrenched him back, "-for a goddamn SECOND-" Skwisgaar stumbled and you caught his slim waist in the crook of your arm, "-I'm going to explain to Charles-", you threw him behind you and lined up the extinguisher, "-his most arrogant guitarist got third degree burns because he was too fucking STUBBORN-" aim, "-to MOVE!" fire. You pulled the trigger on the fire extinguisher and doused the stove in a thick, chemical scented foam, holding it there until the fire was smothered. Breathing heavily, you spun around and shoved the extinguisher into the blonde's arms. "Then you're stupid, too," you murmured with venom.

Skwisgaar was a tall man so even face to face as you were, he still towered over you, his eyes icy and his hands overlapping yours on the safety equipment. His eyes traced your face and you could the heat coming off your cheeks but using all your strength, you softened your expression. "Stop freezing me out. I'm just here to help." Your voice was still low but much gentler, which seemed to throw him off. Skwisgaar's haughty face mellowed and his eyes dropped to your mouth, his bottom lip finding a place between his teeth unconsciously.

"Ja," Skwisgaar finally replied, a terse acceptance as he took the fire extinguisher from you. His eyes hadn't left your face for a moment and he just rocked back on his heels, keeping the equipment awkwardly held in front of him. "I suppose Charles woulds finds dat upsettings."

Breathing a sigh of relief, you finally looked back at the stove and frowned at the charred frying pan. "Can I ask what you guys were doing?"

Toki finally piped up, seeming relieved that you weren’t yelling at them. "We's were tryings to makes a grilleds cheese."

Eyebrows furrowed, you studied the charcoal in the pan until you recognized it as a whole block of cheese. The mental image of a new, freshly purchased block of cheese, still wrapped in the plastic, being placed by these adult idiots into the frying pan made your blood pressure rise and you immediately put it to the side, deciding against any other questions.

"Okay. Well. I'll order us some pizza."

That cheered Toki up immediately but Skwisgaar simply nodded once, his cheeks turning a very light pink.

From that point on, Skwisgaar seemed to slowly accept your place as a member of the support staff. Between riffing on your jokes and agreeing with you on occasion, you would've said that your relationship with Skwisgaar was the best it had ever been.

Unfortunately, this came with an unforeseen consequence. 

Now, you had a massive crush on Skwisgaar.

Okay, sure. Technically, you'd had a crush on him for a few years. Everyone in the world knew Dethklok and regardless if they liked the music or not, everyone had a favorite. Yours had always been the Swed. And sure, he looked hot as fuck in the recording booth all those momths ago. But all the following cold shoulder encounters had turned you off of the rock star, the withering look he shot you whenever you had tried to reign in the band members kicking any thoughts of fancy to the curb.

But that was before. This was after. The shock you felt later that day when he addressed you by name for the first time was electrifying. Instead of jestful barbs at your expense on the off chance he acknowledged you, Skwisgaar joked that you took no shit so Murderface better stop riling you up. No longer barking "Moves!" if you were in his way, he simply slipped past you, his hand warm against your upper- though once or twice, lower- back. Now you preened yourself when you knew you would see him, not wishing you could hide. It was driving you crazy.

You felt like a groupie or a schoolgirl, constantly fixated on your crush. Wishing and scheming to get closer when he was around you, his presence obscuring your thoughts when he was away. You had read all the print interviews available in the Mordhaus archives, watched the video interviews online, and had even followed a Dethklok fan Instagram to get a smattering of band photos on your timeline every day. You justified it all as being diligent at your job. But that only went so far, even with yourself. You stayed there, living in limbo for months as you wrestled with your feelings and professionalism. Skwisgaar, however, seemed oblivious to the effect he was having on you. You caught him staring at you sometimes but it was so few and far between that you simply chalked it up to him zoning out.

Or that's how you lived until Christmas.

You celebrated your winter holiday early so you could be on call for the band during actual Christmastime, which turned out to be a good idea. The mothers of Dethklok decided to visit the week leading up to the 25th, having skipped the year before on Charles' recommendation and they seemed exceedingly cranky due to that. The week itself was brutal - Nathan was broody and even quicker to anger than normal, Pickles hadn't been seen sober since they learned about the impending arrival, Murderface was essentially a walking scab from the anxious picking he'd subjected his arms to, and Toki was catatonic.

Of course, your focus was caught most by Skwisgaar. Sulky with a sour stomach, he kept his head down all week. He had his guitar glued to his hands and was second only to Toki in using avoidance as a defense mechanism.

It was incredibly stressful juggling between the bristled band members and their neurotic mothers. Charles himself said it would be at least a month before they could schedule any public appearances so the boys could decompress, and ideally avoid a PR nightmare. So to say you were glad to see their mothers finally leave, only Nathan's thanking you for attending to her, was an understatement.

After a long day of taking everyone to eat then to the airport, you had retired to your small Mordhaus apartment as soon as you could - which was pretty soon as the band seemed just as exhausted and had disappeared once you had gotten home.

You didn't reemerge until after midnight, sneaking out and down the hall to find something to eat at a quarter past twelve. The house was quiet on your walk to the kitchen but after grabbing your snack - a cold cut sandwich you had wrapped in a paper towel to avoid leaving a trail of crumbs - you heard soft, twinkling music coming from the living room as you passed it on your way to the elevators. Pausing to listen, you recognized it as guitar and wondered which of the guitarists were playing, given that Nathan was the only band member who couldn't. You wondered if Murderface had seen you head down and was trying to get your attention, a ploy he had used before, ending with your curiosity getting the best of you. You crept to the living room entrance to peek.

Skwisgaar sat on the sofa facing you, pale and glowing in the dim light coming from the arcade games. His eyes were closed as his fingers glided over the neck of his Gibson, his silky hair draping down his neck and naked shoulders. Seemingly dressed for bed, he was shirtless - though his guitar hid his midriff, to your disappointment - with a pair of black sweatpants on. He seemed lost in his music, strumming out a low melody with mastery.

Your breath caught as you took in the sight and you stood there silently, trying to photograph the moment in your mind, until you registered his expression.

Devastation.

His eyes were closed but tears were streaming down his gaunt cheeks, his quivering eyebrows were furrowed, and he was mouthing a song to himself, his full lips pale. He looked like a man at war with himself, lost and broken. The music was no longer soft and twinkling, it hung in the air like a funeral dirge.

As the past few days ran through your mind, every mention of Skwisgaar's childhood came back to you and all the pieces suddenly clicked into place. This wasn't a man lost, this was a man, once again, in his element. The grief and sickness he had been feeling all week was flowing out of his guitar like the tears from his eyes.

Feeling your own eyes prickling, you felt like this was too much, too personal, for you to see. But despite that, your heart ached and you were stepping forward before you registered the motion. "Skwisgaar?"

[ddeonghwaa]

Can We Fix This? (Jaehyun)

Characters: Jaehyun x reader

Genre: angst, romance

Word count: 5.9k

Hello! This is the sequel of my story “Too Late”. I hope you guys give it lots of love because I’ve been working on it for quite some time! Enjoy!

If you haven’t read Too Late, you can read it here.

“I’ve been really happy for the whole five years of being in love with you, Jaehyun. Thank you for all the memories we’ve shared. I know I’ve done my best for every single moment I had with you in this relationship, so I have no regrets. Regrets… I hope you regret what you did to me and reflect on your actions.”

"I did, I regret my actions so much y/n. Please don’t leave me.”

You shook your head lightly and took a step back away from him. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” You looked at him for one last time, tears brimming your eyes. Tears that looked like fragile crystals, they could break any time. Before you let the tears fall, you said one last thing to him.

“Once you’re done packing my things, leave them outside.”

Your last encounter with Jaehyun kept on replaying in your head although a few days had passed. Breaking up with someone you have loved with your whole heart wasn’t easy. Everything now felt so… empty. You weren’t used to being with your own company.

Never would you have imagined yourself saying that to Jaehyun - who you thought would be the love of your life forever. But things ended up very different from what the both of you had expected. You didn’t want to blame Yewon entirely, because you knew your relationship with Jaehyun at that time wasn’t the healthiest either.

At that moment, as if Yewon knew that you were diving deep into a black hole in your mind about this, a text from her came.

Yewon: Hello, it’s me, Yewon. I’m sorry if I am bothering you. If you don’t mind, I would like to have a talk with you over lunch today.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “What does she have to say?” At first, you thought of rejecting her invitation because you didn’t have anything to say to her. However, you ended up accepting her lunch invitation to listen to whatever Yewon has to say. Giving her a chance to justify her actions? Maybe you could forgive her then.

-

You immediately regretted agreeing to meet up with Yewon because it just made you feel worse about yourself. The two of you went to a nearby café and sat in front of each other. You hated - no - you despised this atmosphere with Yewon. “Why did you want to meet up?” You started. Yewon cleared her throat and looked at you. “Um, I don’t know if I should say this right now, after your breakup with-”

You shot her a glare when she mentioned about your recent breakup. Who in this whole world would think it was a good idea to bring it up to someone who just recently went through it? Especially when she was partly the reason for it.

“I just thought I’d tell you this. I’m really sorry but I have sincere feelings for Jaehyun,” You flinched when you heard his name, “and I am thinking of dating him seriously. I feel guilty because of you so I thought of asking you first about it.”

You scoffed at the absurd statement. Is this girl for real? The audacity to say this to me after what she has done? You thought to yourself.

Tried maintaining your facial expressions, you replied with an “Oh.”

After what felt like a long minute, you voiced, “You can do whatever you want. It’s not like he is my boyfriend anymore. We broke up, so he can date whoever he wants.”

No. I’m still not over him. I can’t see him dating anyone else. Especially you, Yewon.

You bit your lower lips, trying hard not to break down in front of her. The corner of Yewon’s lips raised as she shot you a smile, “Yeah, but I’m really sorry about your breakup though. I knew getting in between the both of you was wrong, but I couldn’t help it,” she said insensitively.

Her apology didn’t seem sincere and you were trying your best not to smack her in the face. She looks like she’s putting on this show to look like this sweet and nice girl that everyone likes.

“Go ahead, I’m not stopping you. But just so you know, Jaehyun really loved me and I don’t think he’d get over me that fast. What you had with him was only temporary flutters, not real love. He only wavered a little, he didn’t fall for you. He remembers every little thing we did together, every single date, every single kiss,” you shrugged and took a sip of the tea you ordered.

“To be honest, I don’t even know if he’d date you because you’d remind him of how we broke up. If you really end up dating him, I hope his memories with me will continue to haunt him and you would remind him of how he broke my heart. Although I got over it already now.”

Liar. You sound the total opposite.

“Yeah but I’ll try anyways because I really want to date him. I really want to give it a shot.”

“Yeah, go for it. You know what, Yewon?” You grabbed the glass of water in front of you and unexpectedly threw the water at Yewon without hesitation. “Don’t you think I at least deserve to do this?”

Yewon’s eyes turned big as she stood up immediately. She was shocked at what just happened and just stared at her dress that got wet.

Yes, this is not a dream. You really did that. You re-enacted a typical scene from Kdramas and it felt so satisfying. You didn’t even know you had the courage in you to do that. Other customers in the café looked weirdly at you and obviously showed expressions of sympathy for Yewon. But you didn’t care anymore. “I know it’s wrong to do that, but I couldn’t help it,” you shrugged, throwing back her own words to her.

“I hope one day you experience the same as I did. I hope you go through the pain I’m in right now because of you.”

“What did you just do?! I know you’re mad, but how can you do that?! UGH!” she shouted as her hands reached for her glass of water to throw it back at you. Your eyes squeezed shut, expecting yourself to get drenched, but nothing happened.

You peeked one of your eyes open and saw a hand stopping Yewon from doing so. A hand so familiar that you almost forgot he no longer belongs to you. It was Jaehyun.

You didn’t know how he magically appeared there but there he was, staring at you in concern. Your heart started beating so fast it felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. Your breathing started to get faster each second and your palms turned cold. Clenching your hands into a fist, you tried to calm down.

I miss you. It’s only been a few days but I miss you so much, Jung Jaehyun.

You snapped back into reality when you heard Jaehyun whisper sadly, “Y/n… Are you alright?” Letting out a sigh, you picked up your bag and gave Yewon a last cold glare.

“Go get your shot,” You started walking away from the two of them, not even sparing Jaehyun a look.

“She started it first!” You heard Yewon complain to Jaehyun right when you left and thankfully her voice faded the further away you got from the café. Every second felt so suffocating with the presence of him. You couldn’t hug or kiss him like you used to. You couldn’t even take a proper look at his face without breaking down right there. You wished you could get over Jaehyun fast. Or sometimes you wished things went back to how they were before Yewon appeared. But it was too late.

-

It has been a tough week after the incident and you couldn’t hang out with most of your friends anymore because the two of you shared a similar group of friends. You shivered at the thought of them asking about Jaehyun and how unprofessional you would react to their questions – like bawling in front of everyone because of heartbroken you were. Yeah, you didn’t want that. Also, you didn’t want to make them feel awkward and walk on eggshells because of the breakup, although they probably already knew by now or have caught on.

The following days were filled with nothing but avoiding Jaehyun. You created this mission for yourself to help you get over him fast. It was difficult because he lives in the same building as you and moving out from your apartment wasn’t really the best option now.

One time, the elevator doors opened and before setting your foot in it, you looked up only to see Jaehyun standing inside. He looked at you softly and pressed the open button to hold the doors for you.

But you weren’t ready to face him. You immediately took a few steps back and turned, running back to your apartment.

“Y/n! Why are you running away from me…” he sighed sadly and closed the elevator doors.

A few days after that, he waited for you in front of your class to talk. When the class ended and you exited the room, he took your hands softly and whispered, “Y/n, can we talk? I have something to say to you. Please.”

“I don’t think I want to hear anything else from you,” you replied as you signalled to your hands, “Can you let go of my hands, please?” Jaehyun’s shoulders dropped as he let go of your hands again. He really didn’t want to let go this time, but he couldn’t do anything about it.

You hated feeling this way about yourself. You kept on blaming how you weren’t good enough for Jaehyun, how you were so foolish to end this relationship when you knew for a fact that you can’t live without him. Your best friend witnessed your breakdowns and she couldn’t stand seeing you suffer like that anymore.

Being the amazing best friend ever, she made appointments at hair and nail salons to give you a treat and to just cheer yourself up. You were so grateful for her, because without her, you would have struggled so much more alone.

You felt bad for yourself for not trying all of these earlier, because looking at Yewon, she was so pretty, always having her hair and nails nicely done. She’s young and knows how to present herself prettily in front of others. You envied her for that. So after so long, it felt nice getting your hair done, getting manicures and pedicures in pretty colours you’ve never tried before. It was like turning a new page in your life, trying to start anew.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, was having the hardest time of his life. He couldn’t understand how you were coping up so well because he sees you smiling in campus from time to time and it broke him more and more.

He couldn’t concentrate in class, stared into space most of the time and looked so dishevelled as if he only showered once every few days. He even got into trouble for not submitting his assignments properly. He had lost weight because he’s not been eating well after the incident. His appetite never came back and he only ate a little to make sure he stays alive.

Basically, life was giving him shit. And it was what he deserved. He had the most precious human being with him for five years and he took you for granted.

Just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse, it did. His mother decided to visit him that week to drop off some side dishes. She usually drops by every two months ever since Jaehyun moved out from the family house to stay in the apartment located near the university campus.

"You look terrible,” Jaehyun's mother said as soon as she arrives in his apartment.  She fixed Jaehyun's hair a bit and patted his head. “Thanks, mum. Really needed that,” Jaehyun replied in sarcasm as he raised a brow to look at his mother.

“I brought your favourite side dishes and I packed more for y/n too this time. You told me she really liked it last time, remember?” Jaehyun lightly nodded as she placed some of the side dishes in Jaehyun’s fridge and put aside the ones she brought for you.

His heart broke when he heard that because he hasn’t told his mother yet about the two of you. He knows how much she loves you and was hoping for the two of you to get married right after graduation. So, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her about the situation right now.

"Since I’m here, I should go drop by y/n's place too. Let’s go together, Jaehyun. Help me carry all these side dishes. They’re so heavy! I hope y/n enjoys them."

“Umm mum-" He bit his lip and felt genuinely scared. What if you were as broken as him? He couldn’t bear seeing you like that. His mother looked at him with a questioning look, “What?”

He blinked and lightly shook his head, “N-nothing. Let’s go.”

Maybe it wasn’t the best idea, but he was curious and wanted to see how you were doing. What if the smiles you had on campus were all just a show? How well were you actually coping with the breakup? Were you eating all your meals?

Jaehyun just wanted to see you.

Jaehyun led his mother to your apartment while carrying all the side dishes she has packed for you. She rang the doorbell, "Y/n, are you at home?"

Jaehyun unconsciously started biting his lower lips harder than usual that it turned so red. I’m finally seeing her after so long. He thought.

Not long after, you replied, “Yes, I am!”

You opened the door and bowed to Jaehyun’s mother politely, greeting her after so long of not seeing each other. Surprisingly, you didn’t look shocked or caught off guard even when you saw Jaehyun standing behind his mother. Instead, he was the one looking shocked with widened eyes. He looked like a lost puppy with sad eyes staring at you.

How much you’ve missed that man standing right there.

You just wanted to throw your arms around him and hug him tightly. You wanted to kiss his cheeks, lips, nose forehead, but you couldn’t. Instead, pushed your feelings aside and focused on his mother instead.

“How have you been, Mrs Jung?” you asked as you led her to the living room. She took a seat on the sofa and softly smiled while looking at you.

"I’ve been well as always. You look extra beautiful today, y/n. I can tell you’ve been well too,” she caressed your hands and patted them softly.

I’m not doing so well though. You thought, but you just smiled back at her in response.

“I brought some extra side dishes for you too this time. Jaehyun told me you really liked the jangjorim (soy braised beef) I made last time, so I packed more for you," she pointed at the containers that Jaehyun was placing on your kitchen counter and you thanked her.  

You turned to Jaehyun, but he avoided your eyes. You knew that he probably has not told his mother yet about your breakup and you understood that. You knew Jaehyun didn’t want to disappoint his mother. So, you just went along with it. Although inside, you were hurting. Your heart hasn’t healed, and it was breaking more every second you glanced at Jaehyun. He looked so lost and unattended. You could feel tears brimming in your eyes but you tried holding it in.

Crying in front of his mother didn’t sound like a good idea.

"So, how's university and studies so far? Doing good?"  Jaehyun’s mother asked as Jaehyun took a seat next to her after arranging the side dishes. You nodded in response, “Yeah we're graduating soon, so things are not that easy, but manageable, I guess. By the way, would you like some tea or coffee? I’ll make them for you.”

She shook her head, “It’s okay, I’m not staying that long but it’s good to hear that you’re doing well,” she cleared her throat and leaned closer to you, “Anyways, I hope you won’t get offended by what I’m about to ask.”

You blinked and slowly nodded, “S-sure.” Jaehyun sensed that something was coming. "Mum-"

Before he could even stop her, she has already thrown her question, "Are the two of you planning to get engaged as soon as you graduate?"

Silence filled the room and you could feel the tension rising.

Jaehyun groaned and ruffled his hair in frustration. “Mum, I told you to not talk about this.” She pouted, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m just curious about you two. It’s been a while since I’ve seen my future daughter-in-law.”

You awkwardly smiled without answering. Suddenly you felt as if there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room because it was suffocating. Jaehyun saw from your eyes how you were hurting and it was so hard for the two of you to be in the same space right now. So, he mustered up his courage and spoke up.

"Mum, listen,” he hesitated and took a glance at you, “We- we broke up. We’re taking a break from each other and it’s all my fault."

Your eyes widened when Jaehyun suddenly said that. You couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

Jaehyun waited for his mother to be shocked and yell at him for being such a jerk to you. He was expecting his mother to scold you for breaking up with her son. He was ready to face the wrath of his mother and was already expecting the worse. But his mother did the exact opposite.

The atmosphere was unexpectedly calm. It was so calm that it made you feel more uncomfortable.

She calmly placed a hand on top of yours and caressed it gently. "Ah I didn’t know,” she paused, “I’m so sorry for being insensitive about it, y/n. I don’t know what the both of you went through, but I hope you’re doing fine,” she smiled warmly. Her presence was so warm you wanted to just jump into her arms and cry your heart out about how much you’ve been hurting as if she was really your own mother.

Tears filled your eyes to the brim and Jaehyun’s mother noticed that immediately. She knew that the longer they stayed in your apartment, the harder it was for you. She then stood up and took her purse, “We should get going now, Jaehyun. Enjoy the side dishes, yn! Stay healthy, okay?” She smiled at you so dearly and patted your cheeks gently for one last time.

Such motherly love.

You let the tears fall slowly down your cheeks as you greet them out of your apartment because you couldn’t hold them in any longer. Jaehyun saw your tears and his heart broke even more. That’s when he realised, you weren’t doing so well either.

-

Jaehyun sat across Yewon in a café because he wanted to talk to her. He wanted to clarify things so she wouldn’t have hopes of wanting to date him. He knew his heart only belonged to you.

“You broke up with y/n anyways, and I’m partly because of it. You were also wavered by me at that time,” Jaehyun frowned at Yewon’s words, because he knew it was true. However, Yewon wasn’t the girl he wanted to be with. It was true that he was wavered by her when they texted each other daily, but it meant nothing to him.

He sighed. Yewon bit her lower lip and glanced at Jaehyun. “We don’t have to date straight away because I know you just went through a sad breakup,” she paused, “But I will wait for you.”

“Yewon,” Jaehyun started, “Even if a long time has passed after I broke up with y/n and I can date anyone I want, it wouldn’t be you.”

Yewon’s brows furrowed and she looked devastated. “W-Why not?”

“You keep on reminding me of her, so how could I date you?”

She scoffed as she heard his words, “What does that even mean?” Jaehyun let out another sigh, “The only reason I talked to you was because you reminded me of the young y/n I met in high school. So pure and innocent, felt like I needed to protect her always. When you approached me for the first time, you gave off the same vibes as her and that was what made me continue talking to you. You were so similar to y/n.”

Yewon stared at him in disbelief, “What? I-,”

Before she even continued, Jaehyun cut her off, “Don’t be mistaken. It’s not that I can’t date you because there’s y/n in the middle, but the reason I even noticed you was because of y/n.”

“So, what you’re saying is, you weren’t really wavered by me, but only talked to me because I was similar to y/n?” She said sadly, as Jaehyun lightly nodded in response.

“I’m sorry. I’m know that I’m also at fault for giving you hope back then, and I want to apologise for that. That is not something someone with a girlfriend should be doing, and I messed up. But let me tell you something, even if I’ve broken up with y/n now, I don’t have any thoughts of dating you at all. Heck, I don’t want to be with anyone else other than y/n,” Jaehyun took another glance at Yewon and drank his coffee.

Yewon looked so defeated and embarrassed because she was mistaken all along. She thought she could have a chance with Jaehyun after the breakup but unfortunately her plan went downhill.

-

Days and weeks passed as the two of you tried distracting yourselves with the upcoming exams. The final step before graduating college. You knew you couldn’t delve in deeper into being sad because of the breakup because it was affecting you negatively. But at the same time, you also knew how unhealthy it was to dismiss your own feelings.

It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to cry when you’re down. Everyone has those days. It will get better.

You tried telling this to yourself everyday and it was one of the coping skills that you realised helped.

But it wasn’t easy.

Traces of each other were left in daily routines and you can’t stop thinking about each other. 

Is it normal for every breakup to be like this?

When Jaehyun ate meals alone, he felt so lonely. He missed being in your company where you had lots to talk about. Your happy, cheerful smiles brightened up his days and now he couldn’t see them anymore. All you ever asked was his attention and that was the least he could have given you, but he failed.

He remembered how much of a jerk he had been during your last few dates before you broke up. How dare he streamed a soccer game when in front of him sitting was the most beautiful woman? Too late for regrets now.

When he went to wash up, he saw your pink toothbrush next to his and remembered the times when you were too lazy to freshen up that he had to carry you to the toilet and make brushing teeth more fun. Jaehyun laughed softly at the sweet memory. Now his days were dull. He didn’t sleep, spent all his nights studying for finals. Bed feels bigger now without you lying there with him. He even spread out all the pillows he had to feel enveloped and cope with the loneliness he was feeling.

The bed depicts so much of his heart right now, empty.

On the other hand, you weren’t doing so well either. On the outside, you looked like you were doing okay. But little did people know you were hurting every night too. When you opened your drawer, you saw some of his hoodies placed in there for him to wear whenever he sleeps over at your place, and now he doesn’t come over anymore. You felt hot tears flowing down your cheeks as you shut your eyes.

You missed him.

You missed his scent, his touch, his presence. You missed having meals with him, watching movies together, cuddling, kissing, and just… loving each other. Maybe you missed Jung Jaehyun. Maybe, just maybe, you wanted him back in your life. You never expected him to affect you so much.

-

It was soon graduation day and you made it. You still weren’t sure how you survived university, but you did. After going up stage for the certificate giving ceremony, you found yourself outdoors at the campus, staring into space.

A lot had happened throughout your journey in university and you couldn’t believe that you even got yourself a degree amid the chaos. You looked down at your degree certificate on your lap and chuckled to yourself at how ridiculous your situation was.

Staying up at night while burning the midnight oils were already so difficult, but adding a breakup on top of that? It was the worst. You swore that you almost gave up a few times, but you didn’t want to affect your future just because of the incident.

Jaehyun didn’t bother you anymore after the day his mother came to visit because he couldn’t bear seeing you heartbroken anymore. He’d always just look out for you from afar, making sure you’re safe. He didn’t want to bother you, so you can study in peace. He promised to himself that he would give you some space and look for you only after graduation.

Now there he was, on graduation day, looking for you after the ceremony ended. In his hands were his folded graduation robe and mortar board. He spotted you from afar and his gaze softened at the sight of you. You also had your robe folded next to you, while you held onto your certificate.

With a thumping heart and nervous palms, he slowly approached you. You noticed a figure coming towards you and looked up. Your eyes matched Jaehyun’s and you swear you could feel your heart bursting. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, and you forgot how it felt to get butterflies in your tummy. But your gaze turned sad when you were realised that you were not dating him anymore.

“Hey, can I sit here?” Jaehyun asked, signaling to the empty seat next to you. You nodded in response and moved to the side to give him more space.

He sat next to you, leaving a little gap in between in case you felt uncomfortable. “You look really pretty today,” he said, “I mean, you always do.”

“Thank you,” your heartbeat got faster at his simple words and you felt yourself turning red. The wind blew and you could smell his cologne that he usually has on him. The one you bought for him because you really liked the scent on him. You missed this scent so much that it felt so unfamiliar today. But it was nice.

“Congratulations on graduating. Your efforts paid off,” he flashed a sincere smile to you. You turned away immediately because you knew you couldn’t handle looking at him. You could cry any time now because of how much you missed him. But you didn’t want him to know that. You didn’t want to show him the side of you crying because you were the one who ended the relationship. You didn’t want to seem pathetic. “You too. Congratulations,” you whispered.

“How have you been?” he asked. You almost scoffed at his obnoxious question because he obviously knows you weren’t doing well after the breakup. “Good. You?” you said in short.

“Not really.”

You blinked and didn’t reply to his answer.

The breakup happened only a few weeks before graduation and the both of you were still broken because of it. You never really had a proper closure because both kept on running away from each other, avoiding the topic. It’s now finally time to sit alone and talk about it. Just the two of you, nobody else.

“Finals really took a toll on your life, huh?” you joked, trying to make the mood livelier. But you still avoided eye contact, and it just made the situation more awkward. “Yeah. That too,” he replied.

Silence.

Jaehyun sensed that you were avoiding his eyes, so he tried to change the topic.

“Remember when we graduated high school a few years ago?”

You nodded in response, “Yeah. What about it?”

Jaehyun slightly glanced at you and chuckled to himself, “Am I the only childish one who remembers what we said then?’ You raised your brows in confusion.

He replied, “I thought we could conquer the world then. I really thought graduating high school was everything,” he laughed, “But you made me promise to graduate university together too.”

You smiled softly at the fond memory of innocent high school kids graduating. Both of you ditched the rest of your friends to go on a jjajangmyeon (black bean noodles) date together. “Yeah and we made it. We graduated both high school and university,” you replied.

Jaehyun lightly nodded and continued after a few seconds of hesitation. “But I also made another promise.”

He searched for your eyes, and this time, you looked into his sad eyes to listen to what he has to say. “I promised you that I’d take care of you and that I’d never hurt you. Your trusted me with that, but I-,” he stopped and let out a sigh, “I couldn’t fulfil it. I made you think of me as someone who would never hurt you, but I did.”

You turned silent as you listened to him. You felt bad that he thinks this way about himself. You never asked him to be perfect, you just wanted his presence in your life.

“Y/n,” he called. “Hmm?”

“I don’t think I can let go of our five-year relationship just like this. Things were so good for the five years, and only a small part of it went bad. It’s all my fault and I’m really sorry for that.”

You bit your lower lips and fondled your fingers in nervousness. You didn’t know how to reply to Jaehyun and your heart wasn’t calming itself down any moment now. You turned to him and caught his eyes. They looked so fragile, he had tears in them that looked like they were ready to fall any time now.

“I was so caught up trying to do my best for you to a point where I lost myself in between that. It made me scared whenever I think of you finding someone better than me because I know I’m not worth your love. You deserve someone so much better than me, so I tried becoming better. I tried to improve but I found myself getting lost. I sought assurance from someone else to make myself feel better, but it didn’t,” you knew he was talking about Yewon, and you nodded lightly, signalling him to continue while you listen.

“I thought that maybe talking to you less would lessen the mistakes I make, but it ended up making things worse. I was lucky enough that you gave me another chance- heck, you gave me a lot of chances and I blew them all away,” he ruffled his hair in frustration, ruining the hair he had prepared for graduation. Your brows furrowed as you stared at his now messy hair. You wanted to reach out and fix it for him, but he continued talking.

“I love you so much, I don't think I can ever let you go, y/n. The thought of losing you completely because of how I broke your heart hurt me so much that it almost killed me. You can call me a jerk, you can curse the heck out of me, you can leave me now, but I just wanted to say that it will always be you. It has always been you. I can never see myself loving someone else other than you, y/n. And I'm so sorry for hurting you. I regret it so much. I’m- I’m really sorry.”

At the end of his words, Jaehyun was already sobbing. He covered his face with his hands and just kept on crying. Your heart broke at the sight and you felt yourself tearing up as well. You extended your hands and reached out to pat his back gently. “It’s okay,” you said, “It’s okay to let it all out, Jae.”

You wiped your own tears and sniffed silently. “I’m sorry too. I should have trusted you more and gave you a chance to properly explain yourself, but I didn’t. I went along with my anger and broke up with you.”

Jaehyun’s sobs got softer and he looked up to face you. His eyes and nose were red from all the crying, but you still thought he looked adorable.

You chuckled although you still had tears in your eyes, “Do you think we can fix this? Fix us?” You asked him and gave his hair a quick fix. Jaehyun’s eyes widened as you asked that. “Does that mean you’re giving me another chance?”

You softly nodded and smiled.

“That day, when you met up with Yewon at the café after our breakup, a friend of mine was there. She didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but she heard what you said to her and told me. My friend said maybe it could help me be less angry towards you,” you chuckled, “And weirdly, it did.”

Jaehyun sighed in relief and a small smile started to appear on his face. “You told her that you talked to her because she reminded you of me?” he nodded in response to your question. “Then why didn’t you just talk to me? I was always there with you,” you asked.

Jaehyun nodded and slowly took your hands into his. Your hands were so cold because of the nervousness earlier, and the warmth from his felt so nice. As if his warm hands were made to hold yours in them. “I told you I feared making mistakes and hurting you. I wanted to be the perfect boyfriend for you and I still want to.”

You furrowed your brows, “You’re perfect with all of your flaws, Jaehyun. I thought I’ve always told you that. I love you as you are, and I don’t need you to change any bit of it. I love you, Jung Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun felt his heart beat fast when he heard that. He held your hands tighter and looked you in the eyes softly. “I love you too, y/n.”

You teared up again and slowly wrapped your arms around Jaehyun to give him a big, tight hug. A hug you’ve been wanting to give him since forever and today you finally had the chance to. Jaehyun returned the hug and wrapped his arms tightly around you too. He whispered, “I’ll never let you go again.”

“Let’s go get jjajangmyeon, just like the old days?” Jaehyun asked when you released the hug, “Anywhere with you sounds great,” you smiled and caressed his cheeks. Jaehyun leaned in and gave you a peck on the lips. Your brows raised and he shrugged.

“Couldn’t help it. My girl looks amazing today.”

The both of you stared at each other for some time and laughed. You went through so much together and now, you were happy you got back with Jaehyun. Jaehyun was also elated because he finally got bac together with the love of his life. “No one else, only you y/n.”

To happier days ahead.

It’s never too late.

    masterlist

Tell me what you think of this piece! Your comments give me lots of strength and motivation to write more and improve. I hope all of you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you for your support! I really appreciate it.

[forever-rogue]

Step into the Daylight - Part 12

Summary: Crafting, whispered declarations, and a newcomer lead to some interesting revelations.

A/N: Thank you guys for being so, so patient and still being excited for me to update. Taglists are open, and as always feedback is welcome! xx

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: general s2 spoilers, and canon divergence (hehehe)

SERIES MASTERLIST

MANDALORIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

“So I’m going to make that,” you glanced at Cal’s glowing green lightsaber with a furtive point of your hand,  “from this?”

The small Kyber crystal felt pathetic and pointless in your hand as you looked between it and the lightsaber. It seemed like surely the one couldn’t truly come from the other. How was the dinky little crystal going to power up such an advanced weapon?

“Of course,” Cere offered you a kind smile and a warm hand on your back as she ushered you over to the workbench at the back of the Mantis, her ragtag crew’s ship, “all the materials and items you need to craft your own saber are right there. The most important of it all, the key, is the small crystal in your hands. Have faith in it - and yourself -  and you’ll be able to do it.”

“O-on my own?” your eyebrows shot up as she nodded, “how will I know what to do? I’m not dumb...but I don’t see how one equates to the other.”

“You will know,” she insisted, taking a step back and motioning for Cal to join her. Your eyes were wide with worry and concern as you were positive that this was a task you would never be able to complete. Maybe this was all a mad joke, and they were somehow testing you? But then again...surely they couldn’t be. Few things you’d learned about the Jedi and the Force made sense and this was definitely one of them. You were beginning to wonder if anything ever would make sense.

But your instinct, your gut or whatever it was, had gotten you this far. It had kept you, Din, and Grogu safe. Maybe there was something to it after all. Maybe now wasn’t the time to question it. 

“Alright,” you nodded in quiet agreement, “I’ll try my best.”

“We will see you when you’re ready,” with that she turned and left, with Cal close on her heels after he gave you a wave of goodbye. Nodding to yourself you decided that you might as well just try and see where it led you. 

“Okay,” you whispered to yourself as you put the crystal in the center of the bench, “let’s give this a go then.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was several frustrating hours before you emerged from the Mantis, dirt and oil on your face, but more importantly, a giant grin. You quickly found yourself surrounded by several pairs of curious, prying eyes. The most important of all were inky black and accompanied by a happy little coo.

"How did you fare, young one?" Cere asked you as you reached behind your back and slowly pulled out what looked like a black metallic tube, covered in intricate golden designs.

"You tell me," without a moment of hesitation or pause, you ignited the saber and displayed the brilliant, glowing golden beam of light. Before anyone could say anything you wielded it and displayed the other end, showing that you had crafted a dual ended saber, "ta da!"

"Golden," Cal mused as he came closer and studied the saber, impressed by your ability to create such an impressive thing on your first try, "I've only seen one other person with such a color…"

"Should I have chosen a-a different one?" your brows knitted in confusion as you disengage the saber and clipped it onto your belt loop, "is there a way to change it?"

"No," he shook his head in amusement, "the Kyber chooses us and the color. It's nothing on your part."

"Oh...well, I'll take it as a good thing then," you cast a look over at Din and Grogu who were both watching your every move intently. You felt your cheeks warm up under his gaze, but a smile still graced your features, "golden...what does it mean?"

"Balance," he answered simply, "the balance between light and dark."

"O-oh," you swallowed thickly as you realized just how much it meant it, "wow."

"Wow is right," Cere game over and gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze, "you've done well. The art of wielding it is another thing. But you will learn, over time. There is no right - or wrong - way to do it. You'll have to find out what feels right to you."

"Thank you," giving her a nod of reverence, an odd feeling washed over you. It was all done now - your journey of finding your crystal and your building of the saber. This is where you parted ways. It was a lonely idea, a scary one at that, but you knew you'd still have Din and Grogu. That was all you really needed - anything else world work out.

Like it always seemed to.

"I believe this is the parting of the ways," she sounded almost disappointed as you inhaled deeply. Although you hadn't known them long, you felt as though there was a deep bond between your small clan and their crew. Like yourself and Grogu, Cal and Cere, and in some ways Merrin, shared a special bond with you. They were probably some of the only people that knew exactly what you were going through; especially the push and pull between light and dark.

“Indeed,” you slowly made your way over to Din, who gave a small nod of acknowledgment as Grogu reached out for you. Gently taking him in your arms, you kissed the top of his fuzzy head before positioning him so he could see everything, just like he pleased, “where will you go?”

“Wherever we’re needed,” Cal seemed as cryptic as his mentor, but you knew that despite trusting you, it was best for their own interests to kept their whereabouts as secret as possible, “I have not doubt that there are plenty of others just like you and I that are out there, and they’re scared and need help. We’re just going to go around and keep finding them, and helping them. So that way they can hone their own powers, just like you.”

“I’m sure they will be more than thankful for your help,” you said as Grogu cooed in agreement, “just like we are. I hope our paths cross again one day, Cal Kestis.”

“As do I,” he held out his hand and you grabbed it, giving it a firm but gentle shake. The energy that flowed between the two of you was enough to prompt a small sound of surprise from your lips; the force really was a strange, but wonderful thing, “until next time.”

“Until next time,” you repeated as you stood back and rejoined Din. A hand went to your side as he led you close to him. And then you realized - “wait! Jele - what about you? Are you going to come with us?”

For the first time since your reappearance, you really noticed the older woman watching you curiously. She offered you a warm smile, much as the others had done before shaking her head lightly, “unfortunately, our time is over, and I’ve found a new calling. I’m going with them, hopefully to use the skills I have remaining for good use. Just like with you. There’s nothing left for me to teach you, young one. Everything else will come to you in time, you will be ready for when it does.”

“Thank you,” tears pricked at the back of your eyes as you nodded in understanding, “for everything.”

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” she insisted, “everything’s always been within you, everything plays out as it should. Sometimes it just needs a little push in the right direction.”

A playful little grin crossed her features as she glances at you and Din in turn. Your cheeks warmed up at the mere thought of kissing him the previous evening, of finally getting to see him, of the whispered declarations of love, and what it all meant. Clearing your throat, you gazed at your feet awkwardly to hide your warm face, “well, regardless. Thank you. For everything.”

“May the force be with you.”

“And with you.”

The three of you remained there for some time, watching as the others gathered their things and packed up the Mantis to leave. It was strange to watch them leave, it almost felt wrong; they were new friends, fast friends but it felt wrong to see them go so soon. Something told you this wasn’t the last you’d see of them. 

“We should go in,” Din finally said after some time, his voice cracking lightly from how long he had been silent. It wasn’t that he had been worried about you while you were crafting your blade like he had been when you were on your quest for the crystal, but he was...nervous. Din knew you were more than capable of handling yourself, but at the same time he couldn’t help but fret over your safety. He loved you, truly, fully, and completely - he knew that now. Since he’d had the privilege of knowing a life with you, he wasn’t sure he could handle one without you. 

Shivering in response, it was only mere moments before Din had whipped his cape off from his shoulders and placed it around your own. You turned to him with a thankful smile before shaking your head in amusement, “what about you, my love? Now you’re going to be cold.”

“Not terribly if we move inside and warm up the Crest,” he snorted in amusement before moving in the direction of the ship just behind the snowy horizon, “come on, let’s go before we freeze.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

It was warm inside, the forced air was blasting and making the whole ship more comfortable. It really was the only way to combat the freezing chill of Illum. You’d showered and changed into something more warm and comfortable, and once you’d returned to the small living space, you’d found that Din had tucked Gorgu back into his small hammock. You watched the small green little bean fondly for a moment before gently stroking his ears and the top of his head. 

“Hungry?” you stopped at the sound of the voice that reached your ears. It was familiar and known to you, yes, but there was a part of it that was still more or less unknown. Dropping your hand, you turned and found Din watching you, his brown eyes meeting yours, “I-I made some food.”

“Y-yes,” you nodded, swallowing the lump that had welled up in your throat before walking over to him. Din stood there for a moment as you studied him; but then silently, tentatively, you reached up and cradled his face in your hands. He practically keened into your touch as you traced over his features, before leaning closer to him, the tips of your noses lightly brushing, “is this okay?”

"Yes," his voice was gentle as his warm breath fanned across your face, somehow causing you to lean forward and gently brush your lips against his. Din's hands found purchase on your waist as you breathed him in and familiarized with this - the sheer, wonderful act of intimacy, "may I kiss you?"

"Please," you barely whispered the word before he closed the gap and gently pressed his lips against yours. His touch and taste were intoxicating, despite being so simple and pure. It wasn't much, a few mere seconds passed as you both tested the waters to see how it would go. Not that there was any lingering doubt in your mind that you loved him, but it was all still so new and threatened to send you into an overwhelmed headrush all at once.

There was something so saccharine and sacred about kissing him, about knowing he was yours and you were his, that was too much and not enough at once. Your eyes closed as you rested your forehead against his, lips pulling into a small smile.

"What are you thinking?" you asked softly when you found inquisitive brown eyes searching your face for...something.

"I like this," his cheeks flushed slightly as his fingers danced around your waist, "I've never done this before, let someone see me like this, but I just…"

"Feel like this is right?" you finished as he nodded softly, "I don't know what it is either, Din, but I feel it too. I like to think that...there's a reason you found me and saved me that day. I'm glad you did."

"Even though you tried to fight me off?"

"Even though I tried to fight you off!" you pulled back and laughed, that wonderful sound that made Din's insides flutter happily, "I thought for sure you were going to turn me in. I...couldn't trust you or anyone then."

"And now?"

"I trust you with my life," you promised, "you are my home. You and Grogu."

“I’ve never…” Din paused for a long moment before closing his eyes and gently stealing another kiss from you, lingering against your lips. You were so close, but not close enough; part of you wanted to swallow him whole and keep him as yours forever, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone. I’ve never loved anyone. Not before…”

“Him?” your voice was soft as you pulled back and cast a fond glance at the sleeping child. Din followed your gaze before training it right back onto you, “I can understand that. I love him too. Have you never...loved another?”

“No,” he admitted, almost shy as he gnawed on his bottom lip, “I’ve had lovers, here and there, but nothing like this. Nothing to where…”

“No one has seen your face,” you concluded as he nodded. Running a hand through his curls, you scratched lightly at his scalp as he choked back a moan at the tender touch, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“Letting me love you,” pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, you couldn’t help but pull him close, “for letting me see you as you are.”

“You have always seen me,” he acknowledged, “just as I am.”

“As you have me,” you grinned at him, “I haven’t either...I’ve never loved anyone before.”

“Never?” he seemed surprised as you nodded at his surprised expression, “I thought...you’re...everything.”

“Not to most people,” you reminded him, “I never had the opportunity or the luxury to allow myself to relax or be...human. No one, not since I was just a small child, has ever loved me or cared so much about me before. Now I have a family, a real family. I must have done something right in some life to find you, Din.”

Unable to find the right words, Din’s hand found your face this time as he pulled you into him and just held you, watching you like you were the reason for every single glittering star in the sky, “Jeele told me that souls that are bound together will always find each other, no matter the time or distance or how hard it is. I’m glad ours found each other.”

“Din…”

“I love you,” he blurted out as you left a warm rush wash all over you. There was something about how he said - so sweet and gentle that left you breathless and in a dreamlike state. Part of you was convinced that none of this was real, surely you couldn’t be deserving of this much love or delicate intimacy. But the touch and feel of his skin on yours, the ecstasy of his kiss was enough to remind you that this was all real. He really did love you.

“I love you,” it was a promise, a tender declaration that set his soul at ease, knowing that you felt the same way about him. How, no matter how crazy or convoluted it seemed, your souls were bonded and had managed to find each other in this lifetime. Brushing your fingers over his patchy scruff, you grinned, but were quickly cut off from saying anything else by rapturous growl of your stomach, “oh.”

“I knew you were hungry,” he chuckled warmly, and Maker, you could easily get used to a lifetime of this, “come on, my little Jedi, the food’s almost ready.”

“Din-” you held onto his hand to stop him from walking away, “I have something to tell you.”

“What is it, Mesh’la?”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” you tried your best not to butcher his language too much. Judging by the incredulous look on his face, he didn’t mind a bit, “I-I told you I had time to study a lot...my Mando’a is far from good, and you said it to me last night. I hope it’s not too horrible.”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” he repeated back to you slowly, “you’ve got it down perfectly.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“You’re thinking much too loudly,” you mouthed at him between bites of bread. Din’s eyebrow raised in amusement as he looked and waited for you to repeat yourself. Stuffing the bite down, you offered up a sheepish smile, “what’s on your mind, Din?”

“I was just thinking about...Tython,” he admitted, “I know we should go, we have to go, but I’m...I don’t know if I can part with him. Not yet.”

“You don’t…” you set your fork down and let out a heavy sigh. You knew, you both knew exactly what it meant. A part of you still held onto hope that it wouldn’t come to that. You didn't know a life without your small green bean anymore, and honestly, you weren’t sure if you could face a life without him, “nothing is set in stone, Din. Things could always...change. And if not...you will have fulfilled the duty you were tasked with.”

“It must be selfish of me to want to keep him,” he trained his gaze away from you, but you could see that his eyes were glistening with some tears, “he’s not just some thing. He’s….”

“Family,” you finished, “aliit.”

“Yes,” he agreed, gently resting his hand on top of yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, “just like you.”

“Whatever happens, Din,” you whispered, “this won’t be the last time you see him. I promise you that. You are his father - nothing is going to change that. He knows that, and so do you.”

“What do you think will happen when we go?” he opened and closed his mouth a few times as he blinked back tears.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, “I don’t know if there is a way to know. I suppose we’ll just have to wait and see. I do promise you one thing though.”

“What’s that?” 

“I love you - and I will always love you,” you took his hand and brought it to your lips before pressing a kiss to his palm. “And so will he. I promise you that.”

“I love you both too,” he said after a few moments of peaceful silence, “we should get some rest...we’ll be on Tython soon enough anI want to make sure we’re rested and prepared for...anything.”

“Yes,” you concurred, “you’re right, of course. Come one then, my love, we’ll rest for now.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“So...this is it?” Din sounded skeptical as he looked around the rocky ruins, with Grogu clutched tightly in his arms. You couldn’t help but snort at him in amusement; Grogu seemed to be enjoying himself anyway, “is it...does this look Jedi to you?”

He gently set Grogu down and he toddled over to the small stone pillar in the middle of the ruins. The little one cooed excitedly as he looked between the two of you; Din, studious and bewildered as he looked around, and you, doubled over as you laughed and tried to catch your breath. 

“How does something look Jedi?” you finally choked out as you tried to stop your giggles, “it doesn’t have to look Jedi. It’s about the energy.”

“Okay...well, does it feel Jedi?” he was at your side, gently nudging your ribs as you laughed at him again, “you’re being cruel!”

“I’m sorry,” you were but it was still amusing nonetheless, “it’s just...the energies. Can you feel them? Can you feel the force?”

“I don’t feel anything,” he shrugged lightly, “should I be?”

“I think so...Cal was right. The energies here are very strong,” you closed your eyes for a moment as Din huffed, “it’s alright...Jeele says everyone’s in tune with the force to a certain extent, and that it can be strengthened through practice. I-I’ll teach you, my love. That way you can tell if something looks Jedi.”

“Very funny,” he sighed, his signature trademark sigh as you took his hand and pointed towards Grogu. He was surrounded by a small swarm of bright blue butterflies, giggling as he tried to chase after them, “I didn’t know it was possible to have so much love in your heart for someone else. But now I know...because of the two of you.”

“Come on,” you took his hand in yours, “let’s look around to see if we can find anything. Grogu - you stay here, we’ll be right back.”

You hesitated for a moment before deciding it was okay, and trailed alongside Din. It wasn’t a huge planet, but it was beautiful in its own way, with animals running around. No humans or other creatures seemed to inhabit the place. It was quiet here...peaceful even. 

“I like this,” you said to Din as you walked through a small field of wildflowers, “it’s quiet and calm and you can just...be. I wouldn’t mind living someplace like this one day.”

“Without any intelligent life nearby and completely cut off from everything else?” he teased as you groaned at him. 

"No, shiny dummy," you plopped down into the tall, soft grass. You let out a long sigh and put your hands behind your behind, closing your eyes, "somewhere nice and quiet and with just us. Peaceful. What do you think, Din? Ever thought about the future…?"

With me?

After a few beats of silence, you heard the grass next to you crunch softly before you felt his body lie next to yours. His hand reached out and sought yours; you wasted no time in shifting your arm and letting him take your hand. He laced your fingers together before resting them on his chest.

"Yes," he whispered quietly, "I've thought about it a lot."

"Oh."

"I never thought I would ever want to settle down and not...do what I do," he confessed as his thumb stroked the back of your hand, "I never thought there would be more than what I had. But then I found Grogu and...you. I came to realize that I did want more, I want more than what I had."

"A future…"

"With him and you," you were positive that you could hear him smile at his confession. This was easy and hard at the same time - neither of you had ever imagined there would be this, "I don't want this life, the constant fighting and fleeing anymore. I want...a home, a real home."

"Me too," it was a smitten, gentle declaration, "I still want to help people somehow too."

"We will," he promised, "we'll have it all, Mesh'la."

Unable to stop yourself, you rolled onto your side and on top of him. A small grunt of surprise escaped his lips as his arms went to your waist and your hands went to his helmet.

"May I?" it was a gentle request, but his hands joined yours and the helmet was pushed up to expose his lips, and you wasted no time in kissing him.

You were loath to break away from him, but you were soon left breathless and flushed, about to say something when a loud, booming sound met your ears. The two of you broke away and looked to the ruins where you'd left Grogu. At the giant beam of bright blue light emitting from the center of it, you gasped loudly.

Scrambling to your feet, you held your hand out to help him up, before the two of you ran over to see what the commotion was.

"Kid!"

"Grogu!"

When you reached the ruins, you found nothing around except for Grogu sitting and meditating in the center.

"What's happening?" Din asked in confusion as you realized what was happening.

"Its okay," you put a hand on his arm, "he's reaching out. To see if any other Jedi are listening. There's nothing we can do...we just...wait."

"Okay," he sighed lightly as he let you take his hand and the two of you sat down. It was better than pacing around and worrying; at least this way you could keep an eye on him.

»»————-　♡　————-««

After a while, there was suddenly silence. And after the loud noise of the beam, it was almost deafening. Grogu waddled over to the two of you, smiling as he reached for Din. Ever the doting father, he easily scooped him up and clutched him to his chest.

"Did you do it, buddy?" he asked quietly as Grogu cooed happily. Reaching over and you stroked his ears, smiling at the small green bean.

"He called out for someone," you confirmed, "we just have to wait now."

"How long?"

"As long as it takes," you leaned back against him and the three of you heaved a collective sigh, "I guess we can relax."

Din nodded in agreement as you suddenly realized just how tired you were. Despite your best efforts, your eyes started to close and before you could fight it, you were dozing off. Din, however, was wide awake and kept his keen eyes open and sweeping the horizon as you and Grogu snoozed.

Even though he thought he was doing a thorough job, the Mandalorian missed one big thing. He almost jumped when a long, thin shadow loomed over him. In his panic, his hand went to the blaster at his side and he prepared to draw it.

"There's no need for that," it was a man's voice that reached his ears as Din looked up, "if I wanted to hurt you, you’d already be dead.”

"Who are you? Are you...the Jedi?"

"I’m Ezra. Ezra Bridger."

»»————-　♡　————-««

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New Girl on the Block (17)

(sorry for the late update everyone! I spent time with family this weekend and got a little side tracked lol anyway, please enjoy chapter 17 of “New Girl on the Block” and as always, feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called Journal Entries!)

Ch.1 / Ch.16 / Ch.18 (ao3)

Chapter 17: Subtlety Is Key

The platform ladder that Marinette was standing on sat firmly in Felix’s grip as he watched her attempt to pin a stream of hearts to the wall. She appeared to be having trouble deciding which angle was best, moving her end of the stream up and down while staring at the other end, which was already pinned up, and squinting. He half wondered if she was going to take this long on every stream of hearts she pinned up, since she'd been doing the same up-and-down motion for a while now, but he also didn’t mind waiting if she did. The longer he stood here, the better his chances were of escaping the task of writing those “thank you” cards that Allegra liked to put in her party favors. She always managed to rope him into it, saying that his handwriting was the best amongst them, which, in truth, it was, but why not save the trouble and type out the message on the computer in a curly font? Surely, it would have the same effect.

“Felix, does this look straight to you?”

Felix dragged his gaze back up to Marinette, who was frowning at the spot that she’d finally decided to stop on. The stream of hearts hung to her right, making a nice curve on the wall that looked fine, but he wouldn’t be able to say for certain until he acquired a level, which they didn’t have.

“As straight as it can get, I imagine.” He replied. Even if it was a tad off, the guests would hardly notice. They’ll be too busy mingling and dancing around.

A sigh fell from the ravenette, and she lowered the hearts to give him a tired look. “How is that supposed to help me?”

“Well, it’s definitely not straight now. Does that help?”

Marinette pressed her lips into a thin line, obviously disgruntled, and Felix clenched his jaw to avoid smiling. Perhaps he should wait until she got off the ladder to continue. She might kick him in the face otherwise.

“Why are you here if you’re not going to be useful?” She grumbled, turning back to the wall.

A snort escaped Felix’s lips. “I am being useful. I’m holding the ladder so you don’t fall and break your neck.”

“Bold of you to assume I won’t fall whether the ladder is steady or not.”

“Which is another reason why I’m here.” He replied smoothly. “To catch you.”

Marinette hummed, glancing down at him from the corner of her eye. “How kind of you.”

“Yes, it really is, isn’t it?”

She breathed out a small laugh and shook her head, coaxing a smirk from Felix as well. 

It’s been about a week since they stayed up all night talking at Allegra’s house, since things between them changed, since things with him changed. He couldn’t quite place what had caused it, except that it was most definitely her. The way she listened to him wholeheartedly throughout the entire night, hanging on his every word, offering support when needed and trading a few stories herself- It made him feel heard, which was immensely strange. Because he’d been heard before, plenty of times in fact. It was nothing new. So why was that night different? Was it because of the soft atmosphere that the moon provided? Or because they were both somewhat tired despite saying otherwise? Why did his entire being feel so clear and refreshed when they went up to bed later on?

Whatever happened, he’d assumed that the feeling would be gone by morning, since nighttime conversations hardly travel to the next day, but imagine his surprise when the feeling swelled full force in his chest the next day, specifically when he greeted Marinette in the hall. It was as crystal clear as the night before, and it had yet to fade even now. 

Felix didn’t understand. Not at all. But he certainly wasn’t going to dispute it. He actually began encouraging the feeling, talking with Marinette on a more constant basis, muttering in her direction during conversations, asking more casual questions, throwing around a joke or two about the others when it seemed appropriate- he even found himself teasing her at one point, which led him to the wonderful realization that Marinette Dupain-Cheng was much sassier than he’d given her credit for. Despite her surprise, she’d snapped back immediately, a playful glare in her eyes and a smirk on her lips, and with an unexpected reaction like that, Felix couldn’t not tease her more. That would simply be a waste.

In the following week, he continued to talk with her, and continued to learn how much of a wild card she truly was. She never reacted to his teasing the same way. For example, one minute, she would blush, the next she would smack him, or roll her eyes and shoot right back without a second thought, or even pout. There was no telling what she was going to do next, and Felix eagerly anticipated her next move each time. It was fun for him now, fun to talk with her, fun to see her smirks and glares and giggles when he did. He could understand why Claude, Allegra, and Allan would want to talk with everyone and anyone if they all acted like her.

Their dynamic had definitely changed over the last few days, and although he wasn’t sure how much Marinette had noticed it herself, Felix knew he was thoroughly enjoying the shift. 

“There.” Marinette said above him, leaning back to put her hands on her hips. “How’s that?”

Felix’s eyes glazed over the stream of hearts again, and he let out a hum. “A bit more to the left.”

Her shoulders drooped. “Are you serious?”

“No.”

The narrowed yet playful glare that she shot him had Felix holding back another chuckle, and he innocently moved to grab one of the pink, inflated balloons on the table next to them to hand it to her.

“Why do I ask you anything anymore?” She asked as she took the balloon from him. 

“Because you know I’m an excellent judge when it comes to fine craftsmanship, such as the stream of hearts hanging above us on the wall right now.”

Marinette scoffed, tacking the balloon to the wall just above the first decoration. “What, are you kissing up to me now? Are you trying to butter me up so I’ll bring you more cheesy croissants?”

Felix shot her a look of feigned offense. “I wouldn’t dream of it, not after the amount of pain and effort that went into the making of those decorations.”

Now she was glaring at him. “Exactly how long do you plan on holding that paper cut against me?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about.” Felix replied, a slight smile betraying his lips as he did.

Marinette huffed, letting her eyes flick up in an eyeroll, and started back down the ladder. Felix moved back to let her off, before grabbing the ladder again to lift it over to the next wall. They still had two more streams to put up.

“You seem to be more present today.” He commented, thinking back on the get-together they had yesterday. She’d been lost in her own thoughts through the first part of it, so much so that Allegra felt the need to ask her if she was alright. Marinette didn’t get to answer due to Claude jumping in, but when Felix asked her about it again a bit later, she quickly froze up, saying that she’d rather keep it to herself for the time being. 

Felix understood, of course, and he said as much, but that didn’t stop him from being curious. Or even a bit concerned. She always had a specific look when that model was involved, and she’d worn it openly yesterday. Therefore, he could only assume that that was part of the trouble, but how much trouble? Did they run into each other again? Did he text her? Did he go looking for her somewhere? There were too many possibilities and not enough clues for Felix to draw a firm conclusion. He couldn’t even be sure that Agreste was the problem in the first place. 

“Did your troubles sort themselves out?” He added, trying not to look at her too much as he did. Felix didn’t want to pry, but he did want to make sure she was handling herself alright. (Not that that was really in question at this point. After that run-in with the akuma, they all knew quite well that Marinette could take care of things when she needed to.)

Marinette paused at the base of the ladder, tilting her head at him with a questioning glance. “My troubles?”

A slight frown tugged at the corner of Felix’s lips. Had she forgotten already? It must not have been that important, then..

“You said something was bothering you yesterday.” He said anyway.

“Oh!” Understanding washed over her features, but a grimace quickly followed. “Oh.”

Felix rose a brow. Did that mean the problem wasn’t resolved?

“Um.. no.” She said, offering a bit of clarity as she fiddled with the next stream of hearts that they were supposed to be hanging up. “No, it’s still very much there, unfortunately. I’m not sure how everything’s going to work out yet.”

Felix nodded. “I see. I apologize for bringing it up, then.”

“No, no, you’re fine.” She insisted as she climbed the ladder. “I know you were just trying to help.”

“Besides,” Marinette threw another smile over her shoulder, one that was clearly softer than the smirks she’d been giving him earlier, “if it gets to be too much, I’m sure you’ll come to rescue again. So you can have something else to brag about.”

Felix’s eyes widened, admittedly knocked off balance by the comment. Joking about being rescued wasn’t entirely unusual, but ‘again’? What did she mean ‘again’? Did she think he rescued her before? When? Why did he find himself feeling immensely pleased with the thought?

“Of course..” He muttered absently. “I do love to brag, you know.”

It was a bland remark to be sure, not nearly one of his best, but Marinette laughed anyway, as she always did, and turned back around to start pinning the next stream of hearts to the wall.

Felix continued to watch.

~~~~~~

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Adrien lunged for his phone, unlocking it with his fingerprint before it could even finish vibrating, and tapped the notification. Was it her? Had she finally decided to text him? Please let it be her!

A news app flashed onto his screen, and his shoulders sagged as he realized that Marinette hadn’t texted him. How long was she going to wait? It’s already been a full day, and winter break was fading fast. He knew these things could take time, but they honestly didn’t have a lot of that right now. Once school started up again, his schedule was going to go right back to packed, and he’d barely be able to breathe let alone go see her. He didn’t want their precious chance to hang-out to go to waste. 

“You good, dude?” Nino asked next to him. “You’ve been hovering around your phone all day. Is something going on?”

“Oh, uh-” Adrien sat up, pushing away his phone and disappointment. Marinette was going to text him eventually. He just needed to be patient. “No, everything’s fine. Père just likes to stay in touch with me while I’m out, so I want to make sure I don’t miss any text messages or anything.”

Nino frowned. “Isn’t sending Gorilla with you enough?”

Adrien shrugged. “Yeah, but you know how he is. He likes to stay on top of things.”

Disgruntlement flicked across Nino’s features, and he tugged his hat down slightly to hide it, muttering, “Or he just likes to control everything.”

Adrien smiled despite the comment. “Come on, he’s not that bad. He let us hang out today, right?”

Nino nodded, though his frown didn’t fade. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.. Just don’t let him distract you from our game. We still have a tie to break.”

Adrien straightened and grabbed the controller that he’d dropped earlier. “Course not! Père or no, I still have plenty of focus to beat you.”

Nino let out a playful scoff. “Sure, dude. We’ll see who beats who this time.”

Adrien chuckled and positioned himself on the couch, and the two jokingly counted down before starting the next match.

Keeping Nino in the dark about Marinette wasn’t something Adrien enjoyed- they were best friends, after all -but he didn’t want to risk talking about her now. The class was only just now starting to be suspicious of Lila, and even then, it was light, joking. They weren’t serious about it yet. If they knew he was meeting up with Marinette, the person they still weren’t entirely fond of, it might serve as a disadvantage to him. What if they stopped listening to him because he was talking with her? He couldn’t take that chance. He needed to get his feet planted firmly on the ground before taking any rash steps forward.

That said, he did need to take some sort of step forward. Lila trying to make a deal with him last week was extremely reassuring, since it meant that she herself thought of him as a threat, but he also knew that he couldn’t slack off because of it. Muttering over her shoulder wasn’t going to work forever, and if he didn’t find a way to crank up the pressure soon, she would start countering his subtle attacks. Maybe he could start talking to people directly? While they were alone. He could talk to them more about Lila and ask if her stories are suspicious.. But what if he talks to the wrong person? Depending on who he conversed with, they might round on him in an instant, and his plan would crumble again. No, he needed to be careful about this. He needed to start with someone he could trust.

“....So,” Adrien glanced at Nino, because who better to start with than his best friend? “what are your thoughts on Lila?”

If Adrien wanted to change everyone’s opinion of Marinette and Lila, he supposed he would have to know those opinion’s first, and Nino, he felt, was the perfect candidate for that. He was a chill, relaxed person, who pretty much liked everybody. (Everybody except Adrien’s father, that is.) His opinion of Lila should be similar to an average of everyone else’s opinion, and Adrien could use that as an estimation of Lila’s- hopefully decreasing -popularity.

Nino scrunched up his nose, clearly confused by the change of subject. “Lila? I mean, she’s alright. Pretty nice. Alya really likes her.”

Adrien nodded thoughtfully. That was about what he expected him to say. “What do you think about her stories? It seems like she’s been everywhere, doesn’t it?”

Nino snorted. “Right? She says she knows everybody and anybody. It’s pretty crazy.”

Adrien’s eyes widened slightly, though Nino didn’t notice. ‘She says she knows everybody’? Not ‘she knows everybody’? If Adrien didn’t know any better, he might say that sounded a little bit like doubt.

“You don’t believe her?” He asked, carefully.

“No, no, I do.” Nino rushed to say, ignoring the game console that was now blinking ‘defeat’ on his side. “It’s just.. you know.. crazy. She’s been all over the world, knows all these different people, and she’s only fifteen. And she kept up with the school the whole time. It sounds like a lot.”

“Yeah, it definitely does.” Adrien agreed, setting his controller aside and hiding a smile. “And now, she’s been taking up the job as class president, even though she’s still planning charity events and working at homeless shelters and hanging out with Alya and the rest of the girls and doing homework.. It makes you wonder how she fits it all into her schedule.”

Nino chuckled. “Yeah, I- It’s.. I don’t know. I definitely couldn’t do it. What about you, though? What do you think about her? You seem to be really interested in her lately.”

Adrien had to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid laughing. Interesting was a word.

“Ah, well.. I guess I’m just curious about her more than anything. I’m a model who goes places and meets people all the time, and I haven’t met nearly as many famous people as she has. I wanna learn how she’s managed to not get in any news or magazines so far-”

Bzzt. Bzzt.

Adrien paused mid-word to whirl around and check his phone. He was honestly preparing himself for the disappointment already- why would this time be any different? -when his eyes landed on the tiny speech bubble that represented his text messaging app. His insides leaped at this sight, and he tried to swallow his excitement as he tapped the notification. Was it her? Had she finally texted him?

Marinette’s name splayed across the top of the screen, and it took every ounce of discipline for Adrien not to leap off the couch and cheer. She’d texted him! Marinette had finally texted him back!

~Hey, sorry it took me so long to text you. I’ve been helping my friends out with something. If you want, I can meet up with you at (something) café for lunch on Feb. 15th? Does that work for you?~

Lunch! Adrien wanted to scream. She was inviting him to lunch! Marinette did want to hang out with him more! This was perfect!

He quickly texted her back. 

~That sounds great! I’ll see you then ;D~

Adrien hadn’t even checked his schedule yet, but that didn’t matter. He was making this lunch date no matter what. Then he could talk with Marinette about his plans and maybe convince her to come back and-

“Was that your dad?” Nino asked, breaking Adrien from his thoughts yet again. That was probably a good thing though. He shouldn’t be getting too ahead of himself. From the way things looked, Marinette was really enjoying her new school life. It will probably take a lot of convincing to get her to come back. For now, he needed to take things slowly.

Slowly.

“Oh, yeah.” Adrien said, cool as a cucumber. “He was just telling me about my next photoshoot.”

“Another one? It’s not going to stop us from hanging out, is it?”

“No, no, it shouldn’t.” Not that he knew of, anyway. The only thing his meeting with Marinette would hopefully affect was everyone’s opinions of Lila. 

Nino relaxed slightly at the answer. “Good. He over-works you way too much. You should ask for a raise or something.”

 Adrien laughed. “I think I’d rather keep the time off that he gives me. Anyway, you ready to play another round? You lost, so now you have to catch back up.”

Nino eyed his controller with a slight smile. “Whatever, man, you know I’m gonna pass you up without a problem.”

“Sure you are.” Adrien smirked. “Just like how you were gonna pass me up last round.”

Nino laughed and snatched his controller up. “Oh, it’s on, dude.”

~~~~~~

Allegra drew in a deep breath, reveling in the scent of the special candles she’d ordered. Patchouli and Rosewood- the perfect thing to accentuate the rose bouquets delicately placed on the round tables and encourage the romantic mood for their party. With the lights dimmed and everyone dancing together on top of that, hearts were bound to be captured, and she couldn’t wait to see it, especially when it came to a particular pair.

Allegra set her candle down and subtly glanced over her shoulder at Felix and Marinette, who were currently stringing up the last stream of hearts on the other side of the room. They were both laughing and talking together, completely comfortable as Felix held the ladder steady and Marinette pinned her last balloon at the end of the stream. It was a cliché couple, really- the stoic, uptight rich boy falling hard for the sweet, adorable bakery girl -but Allegra was determined to see it work out. She’s always prided herself on getting unlikely people together, and these two were going to be her ultimate achievement. Of course, at this point, she supposed she could hardly call them an unlikely couple. They’ve been rather in-step with each other as of late. What with their muttering to each other during group-hang outs and sharing secret looks and sitting near each other on a regular basis. She might be inclined to be excited for the progress if she had any idea as to why they were suddenly so close. Last week, Felix was still gritting his teeth about being caught looking at Marinette, yet today, he’s talking and smiling and laughing with her openly. Laughing! Felix doesn’t laugh. He scowls and hisses and maybe smirks when he’s in a good mood, but he doesn’t laugh. Something monumental must have happened between the two that would encourage him to do so. So what was it? When was it? Her entire body was itching to know, and the fact that she knew she couldn’t ask only made it worse. If she tried to ask Felix about the event, he might clam up again, regressing the friendship. If she tried to ask Marinette about the event, the ravenette would probably become flustered or more hyper aware of Felix’s subconscious advancements, which, again, would probably regress the friendship. She was stuck either way.

“They’re driving me crazy.” She finally said, knowing the boys would hear her. If she couldn’t confirm her theories about Felix and Marinette’s interactions, she would rant about them to Claude and Allan instead.

As usual, Claude was the first to respond, glancing up from the party favors she had him arranging to ask, “What? Who’s driving you crazy?”

Allegra turned to him with a sigh and tilted her head ever-so-slightly in the “lovebirds’” direction. “They are. They’re acting differently than they were before, and I don’t know why.”

Claude straightened to glance over her shoulder for a moment, his brows furrowing slightly.

“You mean Felix and Marinette? They look the same to me.”

Allegra scrunched up her nose with a scoff. “What do you mean they look the same? You think Felix just laughs like that on a regular basis?”

Allan wandered over to their conversation then, also watching Marinette and Felix. The blond and ravenette didn’t even look up from the hearts on the wall, which was another big sign that they were becoming increasingly engrossed in each other. Felix was normally highly aware of his surroundings, as was Allegra, and he usually would have noticed the trio’s stares by now. But he didn’t, because he was too busy looking at Marinette instead.

“They have been a bit chummy lately.” Allan agreed, bringing a smile to Allegra’s lips. At least someone besides herself was paying attention.

“Well, yeah, but we knew that already.” Claude said. “They like each other, don’t they? Of course they would be chummy.”

“Yes, but not like that.” Allegra insisted. “Whether Felix likes her or not doesn’t change the fact that he’s technically being open around all of us right now. Isn’t that a bit strange to you? Besides, we still don’t actually know for sure that Marinette has a crush on Felix.”

Claude gave her a look. “What? I thought you said that she got all blushy and stuff when you talked about Felix at the sleepover.”

“She was, but Marinette gets blushy about a lot of things. And I was talking about how comfortable Felix is around her. That would probably make any girl blush.”

“She has a point,” Allan spoke up, “but I do think she might like him. She always gets this certain vibe when he’s around.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a possibility.” Allegra agreed. “You can totally spot the little ‘glow’ she gets when he talks with her, and even that’s improved since Felix changed things up.”

Claude’s eyes widened as he glanced at the pair again, seeming to study them closer this time. “Do you think she’s glowing more because he’s changed?”

“I’d say so,” Allegra answered, tapping her finger to her lip, “But what I want to know is why he changed and when. It can’t have been anything short of last week, because they only started acting this way recently, but what could have happened that we didn’t see? We’ve been with them the whole time.”

“Maybe they’ve been hanging out by themselves?” Allan suggested. “They’re not tied to us, you know.”

“I know, but wouldn’t we have heard about it? Marinette sends us pictures and such all the time. She would have mentioned her and Felix hanging out by themselves.”

Unless Marinette simply didn’t want to offend them, but Allegra still didn’t buy that explanation. As far as she knew, Felix and Marinette’s shift happened sometime after the sleepover, if not right after. It was as though they’d fallen asleep as usual, then woke up as different people entirely when it came to each other. So whatever happened must have happened during the sleepover.. but when? They were all together most of the night. Allegra supposed it could have happened during Hide and Seek, when they were all spread across the mansion, but moments like those were too quick and too tense and she certainly would have noticed Felix’s change in behavior then. That left her with.. A dead end, because the rest of the night, Marinette and Felix were always with one of the trio, even when they were all sleeping.

Unless the two hadn’t been sleeping..

“I don’t think we should overthink it.” Allan said, lightly nudging his shoulder into Allegra’s. “Marinette seems happier around Felix, and Felix is definitely happier around Marinette, so I say we take the win and let them keep getting closer on their own.”

“I agree.” Claude chimed in, surprising Allegra. He normally enjoyed meddling in others’ affairs as much as she did. “If they’ve made it this far without us getting too involved, they're bound to confess to each other at tomorrow’s party, especially with the ‘fake date’ we have planned for them.”

A smile found its way back onto Allegra’s lips. So he did intend to meddle. He just didn’t want to overthink Felix and Marinette’s sudden progress. She should have known. 

“That reminds me: I still have to finish arranging that.” Allegra remarked.

She spun on her heel, leaving the boys to their tasks again, and began crossing the room to Felix and Marinette. Their chuckles and smiles quieted down as she approached, but she paid it no mind. Felix was mostly the one to stop laughing, anyway.

“Are you guys all done?” Allegra inquired, not missing the way Felix gently touched Marinette’s arm to help her get off the ladder.

Marinette flashed her a smile. “Yep! We just finished the last streamer. What’s next?”

Allegra let out a hum. “Well, Felix still has to write all of those ‘thank you’ letters for the party favors-”

A tired sigh left the blond.

“-and we have to set up the caterer’s foods, but they aren’t coming in till tomorrow. So I think we’re pretty much done. Claude and Allan are just now finishing their last tasks too.”

“Oh, good!” Marinette beamed. “The place looks great already. I can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions tomorrow.”

Allegra smiled. “Neither can I. By the way, since everything’s practically set up, you two can go ahead and stay home until the party starts. That way you both have time to get ready.”

A hint of concern flicked across the ravenette’s features as she knitted her eyebrows together. “Are you sure? I don’t mind coming in early with you guys.”

“I do,” Felix cut in, a slight smirk on his lips as he added, “and I will gladly take the extra free time.”

Allegra smirked as well, because she knew that comment had to be for Marinette’s viewing pleasure. He wouldn’t have had a smirk otherwise, nor would he have held that mischievous glint in his eyes.

Of course, Marinette breathed out a chuckle and briefly rolled her eyes, capturing Felix’s attention immediately. She then offered Allegra a meaningful smile. 

“Well, if you change your mind, you can always text me.”

“Of course, but in case I don’t, why don’t you have Felix pick you up for the party tomorrow? Since you’re both not going to be arriving until later.”

Marinette and Felix exchanged a look, as though they were silently asking each other’s opinions, and Allegra had to hold back a snort. They were already reading each other and communicating in their own way. It was too cute and all too obvious. How did Claude not notice the difference earlier?

“I wouldn’t mind if you need a ride,” Felix finally spoke, pulling his shoulders up in a slight shrug, “but it’s your decision.”

Allegra swallowed a coo and glanced to the side, because this person in front of her who used to be dead-set on not helping anyone or scowling the whole way was being incredibly considerate, and she desperately needed a before-and-after video.

Marinette smiled up at him. “A ride would be nice, thanks. That way I don’t have to bother Maman or Papa about taking me at the end of their work shift.”

It was just the answer Allegra wanted to hear. Felix will be the first one to see Marinette in her new dress, and he will have plenty of time to become flustered over it during their drive to the party. Missing Felix’s face when he went to fetch Marinette was going to be a shame- since he himself mentioned how stunning she would look -but if they were lucky, perhaps he’ll still be wearing the expression when the two arrive.

“Great! I’ll call my driver so we can start getting ready to leave then.” Allegra said with a smile.

Marinette nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll go grab my purse and put up the ladder.”

“I’ll put up the ladder.” Felix cut in, already moving to close it. 

A frown tugged at the corner of her lips. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. They like their tools to be put back a certain way.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks, then.”

Allegra watched Marinette walk off, feeling a fresh wave of determination.. Gosh, they were already acting like they were in love with each other. Well, Felix was at least. Marinette was about that kind to anyone. Either way, things were going smoothly now, and it should only take a carefully-timed push for the two to really get the ball rolling. 

Valentine’s Day, Marinette and Felix being dressed up, both of them being alone together while dressed up, the sudden closeness- finally, all of her plans were coming together. The only thing that could possibly make this better was if Cupid himself came out to see them swoon over each other. 

That wasn’t going to happen, of course, but it didn’t need to, because Allegra was going to be glad to take his place.

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