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dragonrider9905 · 17 days

Text

Infectious Love

Summery: After a failed, almost confession of love, you and Hunter's relationship is skating on thin ice...that is, until someone falls through (or gets stabbed in the gut), so to speak.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it, but comfort too. Lots of emotions. Mentions of blood and sickness.

Hellooooooooo @imaginesfordifferentfandoms tis I, your Secret Santa in the @cloneficgiftexchange!!!!! I really, really, hope you like it. I worked really hard on it ;D So I hope it turned out the way I imagined it in my head ;D Enjoy this kinda longish drabble XD Hehehehe now you understand all the questions I asked. I hope you don't mind I went with Hunter. You seemed to not mind any of them; he's my favorite so I know I can get carried away :D and I wanted to make sure the story was nice! Also, I gave Hunter's scarf a destiny. A fate. A sense of purpose. We now know what happened to it. I have spoken.

Furthermore, I'd like to throw a huge shout out to some people who deserve it. Firstly, @ghostofskywalker. Thank you so much for organizing this event and all the other ones like it. They are always so much fun and I enjoy them immensely. It is safe to say the others who join feel the same way. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it all! Also, thank you to @photogirl894 for being an awesome beta reader and supportive friend. I don't know if I would have finished this fic on time if she hadn't helped me through all the rough spots by her encouraging words. Bestie, you read everything but the ending...I hope you like it <3

The decree is written, now, let the story unfold.

“As a father, you couldn’t ask for a better place to raise a child.”

You’d heard Shep say these words to Hunter your first day on Pabu, and you had to admit, it made your heart flutter a little bit. You’d fallen hard for Hunter a long time ago but duty always got in the way. At first, you hadn’t realized just how much you cared for him during the Clone War, serving as their medic, until Hunter received a shot in the chest. It was then that you realized, or rather were honest with yourself, that your friendship was always more than just a friendship. Almost losing him gave you a clarity and an honesty with yourself that you needed, but that didn’t make things easy. In fact, they made them harder.

Because now you knew how YOU felt, but you had NO IDEA how he felt. Every day, you’d face a new challenge, a new battle, overcome insurmountable odds against the Separatists on top secret missions and won. Every night, you’d have a heart to heart with Hunter, talking about things that made him laugh, made you laugh, things that made you cry, or things that upset him.

But never unburying that heavy secret locked away in your heart.

You considered yourself brave in many aspects but not when it came to problems with the heart. You could tell Hunter anything and everything, except how you felt about him. Instead, you’d find little things every day to show him you loved him. You’d fix his caf the way he liked it, you’d make sure the others were considerate of his sense, you listened to him when he wanted to rant, you showed him you trusted him. You were his shoulder to lean on, his unofficial right hand man. Technically, Crosshair filled those shoes but not always. You tried to be the head of reason when the boys fought and patched them up when they were done arguing.

Then the Clone War ended with fateful Order 66. Your world turned upside down and even though circumstances were different, your situation was the same.

That secret would have to be pried out of your cold dead hands.

You’d been on the run, constantly in fear for your lives and that of the child in your care. You’d started to love her as your own daughter, and you could see Hunter did too. You’d seen Hunter with Cut and Suu’s children before, but somehow, this was different. He’d cared for her as a father would. And that made your heart melt more than you ever thought it could.

Now, here on Pabu, having something that resembled peace and a chance at a life, was it time? Could you actually have the dream you despaired of. The dream which was a nightly comfort but in the morning seemed unreachable as something you thought you couldn’t hope for?

Shep’s words teased you. Taunted you. Pried at you.

Perhaps, perhaps it was time to open your heart?

“So have you reconsidered staying?”

“For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard.”

“Is that all you are? Soldiers?”

You’d seen the thoughtful look on Hunter’s face. It was the one he made when he was considering something. There was no contention, just thoughtful pondering.

Somehow, some way, that moment spurred you and you worked up the courage.

Hunter sat in the cockpit, swirling his knife. You approached and leaned against the door. You’d love to sit there and watch that for hours. You smiled a little to yourself, waiting for him to recognize your presence so as to not scare him into a mistake (not that he’d ever but…better be safe than sorry.)

“Echo said he’s on his way. Will be here in a few rotations.” he said without looking up. “Omega will be glad to see him.”

“Yeah, she misses him, the poor kid.”

Sheaving his knife, he turned to you.

“So, what can I help you with?”

“Oh, you know, just checking in on my Sargeant. You’ve been in here all day.” You placed some fruit native to Pabu in front of him. You never could remember the name, but you’d noticed he liked them.

“Thanks,” he gave half a smile while you took the seat next to him. “What kind of trouble are Wrecker and Omega getting into?”

“Ohhhh probably best not to know right now. Just enjoy the few moments of peace while you can.”

He chuckled and cut into the fruit.

“Soooooo” your heart pounded. You were actually going to do it. You got this…just had to breathe and remain steady, it’d be ok.

Hunter gave you a side eye, silently offering you a piece of the fruit. Kriff, he can tell. You tried to slow your heart best you could.

“So.” He prompted you.

You laughed. “I heard Shep the other day. Something about settling down…ever think about it?”

He sighed. “More than you know. I honestly don’t know what to do about it. I’d like to but… It’s … complicated.”

“Ever think about marrying a pretty woman and having a family? Raising Omega somewhere safe where she’d be happy…”

He huffed a little.

“Who’d I marry? Please don’t suggest the woman Wrecker’s friend was trying to set me up with.”

At the words, the muscles in your face felt heavy and turned sour. The twinkle in your eye went out and the joy in your demeanor dissolved.

An empty smile remained on your face. No indication to the outsider that anything had changed. But Hunter wasn’t an outsider. He knew you inside and out.

Who’d I marry? You weren’t even a consideration. You weren’t on the list. Of course you wouldn’t be. It’d be foolish for you to think that. Why’d you hope in the first place? You should have known better.

Swallowing hard, you bit back tears and forced a laugh.

You had Hunter’s full attention now. He sat up straight and leaned forward a bit.

He immediately sensed the change of demeanor. Your heart rate plummeted but beat hard. Your focus was gone, staring into nothing. Even if it was just for a millisecond, he’d have noticed it, but it lasted longer than that.

Your hollow laugh filled the cabin.

He knew he messed up.

Hunter moved to speak again but it was too late. You’d gotten up and moved toward the door.

“Well um, I should go check on Omega and Wrecker and see what they’re up to before they do too much damage. Yeah, yeah…”

The next moment you were out of the cabin and down the ramp without a second look behind you.

Kriff. He had to fix this.

He almost went after you. He almost made it out the ship, but an incoming transmission stopped him. This could be the one he was waiting for. He looked longingly out to where he saw you hugging yourself, making your way slowly across the shipyard, and went back inside the ship.

Kark it all. This’d better be important, Echo.

Tech was gone. Omega was taken. Crosshair a prisoner. Echo abandoned them, again. It was just you, Wrecker and Hunter now. A ship once filled to bursting with life and light, warm with the love and laughter shared between its walls, was now cold with an emptiness, a magnanimous devoid maw that the ship had never known before.

Tech was dead. Crosshair was gone. Omega was taken.

He was lost.

Hunter might as well have added you to the list of lost as well, because even though you were physically on the ship, you weren’t with him. You were distant. Gone. In every way possible other than physical. You’d done your best to keep Wrecker and himself together. You’d been the same insurmountable strength you’d always been for them to lean on. You were being the strong one for them because you knew they couldn’t right now. He was angry, frustrated, focused and lost all in one but didn’t know where to direct that energy. As always, you came through. You acted the same as how you did throughout the entire Clone War, except not. The actions were all there, but there was a lost life to it.

A lost love.

And it was his fault.

Though you were strong, you weren’t invincible.

During the day you’d serve them. Got them food, made sure they rested, used every resource imaginable to find the little lost loved one. You tried to make them laugh and smile if you could or focus on the task at hand. Completing small missions to get by was his bane, because all Hunter wanted to do was find Omega, but you brought him back to the present, reeled in his reckless side when it got to be too much. You kept track of the inventory and how and when to push on.

But every night he’d hear you silently cry yourself to sleep.

You’d go and comfort Wrecker, then you’d offer the best gesture you could to him to encourage him, then you’d retire to your bed, broken down by the day. Tired, exhausted, empty.

He saw it. And he caused it.

And he hated himself for it.

He’d lost you in a hasty, foolish sentence. One he’d said without much forethought. One he said because he was afraid if he’d said too much, or given any indication of the deeper feelings he had for you, you’d have rejected him and he’d lose you entirely. He thought he could be your friend. You deserved so much more. So much more than himself and what he could offer. He’d wanted to stay your friend so that way, even though he couldn’t have you, you’d be happy. He’d make sure that whoever he was, the man you’d marry would give you all the love he couldn’t.

Turns out he was wrong.

You did return his feelings and he broke you.

He should have gone after you, but he didn’t. He thought he’d have time. He thought he could do it when you’d return to the ship and he could sit down with you uninterrupted but he was wrong, so wrong. Echo arrived and in moments, though he didn’t know it, his life turned upside down. When the mission was declared, his focus turned to that.

He should have talked to you. He should have let you know how he felt.

But the manner of your hurt shifted. You were no longer hurt, but cold.

Perhaps you didn’t want him to love you anymore. He didn’t know what to do. So much was wrong. So much that shouldn’t have been, was now his reality.

In truth, you DID deserve more than him. Perhaps this was for the best. This hurt would pass and you’d meet the one you were supposed to be with. You could get over this fancy for him and live an actual life with someone else.

The thought made his stomach churn and threatened to vomit, but perhaps, that’s what was meant to be.

After all, sometimes to love someone you had to let them go. And Omega, she needed him right now, fully focused on nothing else but finding her.

It was late in the night watch, Hunter sat alone staring at the broken pair of goggles and a plush toy that belonged to the child of the ship. His child, not by blood but by choice.

Taken from him in a cruel twist of fate.

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Hunter wasn’t normally one for crying but he felt close to it now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew Omega took priority over himself. He HAD to find her. Bring her home. Oh Force, what was Hemlock doing to her?

He felt his head start to pound and his brow furrowed.

It hurt so much to love. This was love, wasn’t it? After all, what would he know? All he knew of it was what was in the novels and holofilms…

Something cold touched his head and he jumped in surprise. Opening his eyes, he found you had taken a few steps back surprised, with a blanket and an ice pack in hand.

It didn’t go unnoticed you’d had the scent of fresh tears on your hands.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were in one of your uncomfortable sleep cycles.” You offered gently. “You looked like you had a headache so I brought you this.” You shook the ice pack.

Hunter sat up and rubbed his head. “I…can’t sleep.”

He looked down. It was so hard to keep your gaze. His throat tightened and tears sprung against his will. All he could do was sigh, long and heavy.

Hunter was silent, not knowing what to say. He tried opening his mouth a few times but closed it at every attempt, frustrated.

You slowly drew near him, considerate as you always were. Giving him a chance to stop you if he wanted or needed, but he didn’t. You crouched down in front of him and took his hands.

A shock of surprise sprung his head up immediately and sent a shiver through his body. His brain registered your hands were cold and instinctively he moved to warm them, covering them completely with his own. But his mind was fully focused on your face.

Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and your mouth had a half, crooked smile. A ghost of the one you’d had before. But there was something in your gaze he’d missed, he’d longed for.

It was ‘that’ look.

You hadn't looked at him like that in a long time.

There was a warmth and a love aflame. A gentleness that hadn’t been there these long past few weeks.

If eyes were truly the window to the soul, he’d seen that the embers were dying, but not gone.

You squeezed his hand.

“We’ll find her. I promise.”

There was such a conviction in your voice, determination. A rawness that almost freighted him. A testament to the power you had. The power of your will and spirit. The power of your determination. One of the reasons he loved you so much. One of the elements in your looks that he yearned to see again after missing it for so long.

He squeezed your hands.

“Thank you for everything.” He swallowed hard, voice now scratchy and sore.

You nodded and stood, pulling your hands from his. You placed the pack on his forehead and placed the blanket on him in two swift motions and made to go. You were fast, but not too fast for him. You’d tried to retreat, but Hunter jumped and grabbed your arms, centering you to himself.

A surprised look crossed your face and he saw you searching him, wondering.

“We need to talk.”

You looked away, tears starting to gather again, a breath catching in your throat wanting to break free.

Hunter cupped your face with his hand and slowly, softly turned your gaze back to him.

“Please.”

You nodded, but then looked away again.

“Ok, but not now.” Your voice was heavy and empty. That void look entered your eyes, extinguishing the flame that was there before.

“No, you should get some sleep, you look exhausted. You’re always looking after us. Tonight, take care of yourself, yeah?” He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, whipping away a tear that escaped. “Tomorrow.”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.”

Lifting the blanket you’d brought for him, Hunter placed it over your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze then turned back to his chair, cradling the ice pack to his forehead.

Tomorrow came, but started off all wrong. Emergency lights flashed and sirens blared. The Marauder made an emergency landing on the treacherous mountainous planet below. The hyperdrive malfunctioned and threw you out of hyperspace. It was a tumultuous, uncontrolled landing but Hunter managed with minimal damage to the exterior of the ship. The haul was a little banged up, but other than that, the smoking hyperdrive was the focus of your concern.

There was no Tech to fix the ship now. You were on your own.

“Do you think you can fix it?” Hunter looked at you worriedly. You’d helped Tech plenty of times in the past. You considered yourself pretty capable with all the training you received from him.

Taking a look around, you carefully considered.

“I think so, but it’s going to take time. This superficial stuff I’m not too worried about. We’ll have to make port somewhere soon anyway for supplies. We’re low on everything.” You’d been looking at the inventory the last few days and the lists were concerning. “I think we have enough credits to get by until we can do a job and earn more.” You rubbed your forehead. “I’ve been running numbers on how to keep ourselves sustained without needing to distract ourselves from our mission with a whole bunch of side missions anymore. I think it’ll work but you’re going to have to trust me. But I digress. I’ll patch up the hyperdrive which seems to be the main problem. I’ve got a weird feeling about this place, I don’t want to be here too long. Weather might not hold out for extensive repairs either.”

“Alright, we’ll discuss this when I get back. I’ll scout the area and see what we’re dealing with.” Hunter turned to leave, then paused. Half looking back he spoke: “And, I do. Trust you, I mean.”

With that he put his helmet on and shouted to Wrecker.

“Keep her safe. I’ll be right back.”

It’d been an hour. And Hunter wasn’t back.

Whipping the sweat from your forehead you heaved a big breath.

“I think that’ll do it Wreck. Where’s Hunt?”

Wrecker looked nervous. “Not back yet.”

You looked at your wrist chrono and raised your eyebrows in surprise. Highly unusual.

“Ok, I’ll go look for him. Protect the ship.”

“We should stay together.” Wrecker added quickly, “I’ll come with you.”

“I would like that too but at this moment that’s a luxury we can’t afford. We have to split up.”

Wrecker groaned. “Bad things ALWAYS happen when we split up.”

You softened and patted his shoulder comfortingly.

“I know, big guy, I know. But the less we argue, the sooner we get Hunt back.”

Wrecker paused and nodded. “Ok.” He sighed and took his place by the ramp of the ship. “And…..it’s good to hear you call Hunter, Hunt again…”he trailed off uncertainly, “but it’s kinda making me scared. You think he’s….?”

Your heart clenched in realization. You didn’t think how your hurt would shed and affect others. “Oh Wrecker….” You started but he stopped you.

“Aw Doc, I am just worried about ya. You two always meshed together, you know? So when you didn’t, and now get soft again…” He shook his head. “Get Hunter back, and everything will be ok, yeah?”

“Yeah, it will. I promise.” You started off your sentence quaking but with every word you found your conviction. It was time to go.

“I hope you two can work things out. I always liked it that way, ya know?”

You smiled, “Yeah I do actually, and I did too.”

“Well, do you think that … whatever happened…you two can fix it?”

Your smile faltered a little bit but Wrecker didn’t see that. Really, only Hunter would have been the one to notice.

“I’ll do my best.”

With one last nod to Wrecker, you set out.

You weren’t exceptional at tracking but Hunter taught you a thing or two.

It was time to bring Hunter home.

Hunter skirted the edge of the cliff carefully. His foot set a few loose rocks tumbling into the unknown. Knife unsheathed and corned against the endless void beneath him, he glared at his enemy. Hunter met these villains almost as soon as he left the ship. It didn’t take him long to realize their harmful intentions and led them away from the ship, hoping to buy you as much time as he could to fix the ship. He’d taken out ten of these bandits already, but this one was of a higher status, he could tell by the large hat he wore and more expensive weapons he possessed. He’d be more of a challenge but that would only make it more fun.

Hunter growled and lifted his knife in the ready. Blood and sweat dripped from his face from the few scratches and scrapes he had.

He was prepared for anything.

“Get away from him!” An agonized voice filled with terror screamed.

Your voice.

Hunter’s heart dropped to his stomach and for the first time since the crash, terror entered his veins. He was prepared for everything, except that.

Garnishing your blade, you swiped the air to show the mysterious stranger you were serious. “Leave him alone!”

Hunter’s throat closed up. You didn’t have your blaster, and while still decent with the blade, you weren’t ready for this yet. He hadn’t finished your training.

“Meshla, no!”

Hunter reached out, distracted only for a moment but a moment is all it took. In the second he tried to get in between you and the enemy, a kick to his stomach sent Hunter over the side

“Hunter!” You screamed after him in terror.

What you didn’t see was the flip he made or how he grappled onto the rock. If only you had the enhanced senses he did, you might have heard his hard breathing, the uneven sob, and the continuous prayer that somehow you could live long enough for him to get to you.

His heart pounded. He wanted to call for you but that’d only make things worse for you. He grunted as silently as he could. He had to get to you.

He heard your angry grunts, the slices of knives through the air, missing their marks. He heard you yelling unintelligibly and savagely. The man’s gleeful laughter.

Your painful cry.

Those were some of the longest seconds of his life. What happened? He tried to climb faster but the rock was so slippery.

Watching Hunter get shot. Finding him shot again in the same place all this time later by Cad Bane, and now seeing Hunter tumble over the edge was more than you could handle. Anger like you’d never felt it bubbling all over you, tingling your fingers and guiding your blade’s every movement with hardened focus.

No, you couldn’t lose him like this. You wouldn’t. The man was quick, practiced. But you’d had a good teacher. Now wasn’t the time to doubt. Sure, you wished your blaster had survived the raid on Ord Mantel but there was nothing you could do about that except replace it when you made port.

You tumbled, dived, parried. This demon wouldn’t win. He made a hit on your arm and you cried out. The evil, smug smile he had was enough to refocus you instantly. Jumping for him unexpectedly, you caught him by surprise. You pushed your entire body against his in a close roll.

And your blade found a home in his heart.

Breathing hard, it took you a moment to realize…you’d won. You defeated him! Hunter would be so proud.

Hunter!

Diving for the cliff, you slid toward the edge.

“Hunter? Hunter!”

Hunter looked up at you, face hidden behind his visor but all the emotions were spilling from his mouth. “Are you ok? Mesh’la, what the karking hells?”

“Grab my hand!” Ignoring him, you reached down. “I’ll pull you up.”

Hunter clasped your hand but you let out a cry of agony. Collapsing in a heaping pile. You were shaking but your grip held firm.

“Mesh’la…”

“Don’t you dare let go. Don’t you dare.” Your demand was dry and forceful, but fear spilled from every word. “Please.” Your plea was soft, broken.

“Alright.” He tightened his grip.

Tears streamed down your face as you panted, hulling him up. Hunter seemed so heavy. You’d done exercises like this before and it was a lot easier. Hunter seemed to notice your lack of strength too.

You pulled and heaved and scooted and rolled until you managed to get his body over the lump. Immediately, Hunter started his barrage on you in between heaving breaths of his own.

“What were you thinking? Don’t you know you could have gotten yourself killed?”

You got to your feet and brushed yourself off, head dizzy with emotion and adrenaline.

“Do you,” you panted, “have any idea what you did to me? Don’t start with me…”

“Oh honey, just wait until I get started—“

You turned to look at Hunter who also had gotten to his feet, the words registering, but sounding quite distant. Was he yelling? You weren't sure. Suddenly, your breath was knocked from your lungs and a sharp pain invaded your entire body.

Falling to your knees, you clutched your side to find it wet and sticky, and warm. You didn't need to pull your hand away to look at it to know there was blood, yet that's what you did, and you were shocked nevertheless to find the red, sticky substance on your hands. Gasping with wide eyes, you missed Hunter’s cry of alarm.

“You’re bleeding!”

Hunter ran over to you and caught you as you crumpled to the ground in pain. Gathering you to himself, he rested your body against his.

Tearing off his scarf from around his neck, Hunter pressed it to your wound.

“You’re losing so much blood.”

“Nah, I know exactly where it is. Here, there, and a little over there.”

“Not funny.”

“I thought it was.” you faintly chuckled.

With a dark look, he cut the red fabric into strips and bound your abdomen tightly.

“I’ll get you back to the ship as soon as I can, just hold on for me ok?”

You nodded but your eyes now felt so heavy. You just wanted to sleep.

Scooping you up, Hunter started at a full run.

The bouncing hurt. Every pounding bounce sent fire mixed with ice through your body. Your head rolled back and your eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, cyare, look at me. Look at me! Don’t give up on me yet, please.”

Hunter came in running.

“Wrecker! Wrecker! Get the ship started, we’re leaving NOW!”

Wrecker didn’t miss a beat. He saw you dangling limpless in Hunter’s arms and dashed up the walkway. Wrecker tore through the room, doing the start up sequences as fast as he could then meeting Hunter in the gangway, he threw the med kit at him.

Back in the cockpit, Wrecker took the controls.

Placing you in his bed, Hunter slapped your face.

“I know you’re in there, wake up! Wake up! Don’t leave me now, I need you. I can’t do this without you. Omega is depending on you. You’re stronger than this, come on!”

Injecting you quickly with a stim and re-wrapping your wounds, Hunter frantically chaffed your wrists until your eyes fluttered open.

“Hunter?” You were looking around, trying to sit up.

“Hey, hey don’t get up.” He placed a hand on your forehead, then your pulse points. He felt you slowly but surely starting to equalize. “Just rest for a bit, ok? I’m going to stay right here if you need anything.” He pulled up a chair next to you.

“I’m ok,” you smiled weakly, “I was so scared when I saw those tracks. I thought I’d lost you again. But you’re ok, and that’s all that matters to me.” You squeezed his hand, then let the darkness take you.

All was still and dark. The Marauder gently rocked in what would pass for the early hours of the morning, if there really could be a morning or night in space.

All was still and quiet inside the Marauder. Wrecker was by the controls watching the ship’s course and motion beacons, Hunter was fast asleep, leaned over the bed and holding your hand.

You on the other hand were restless. Buckets of sweat fell from your forehead. Dizzy and disoriented, even laying down, a nauseous feeling crept up your stomach into your throat.

You wormed your hand out of Hunters, not wanting to wake him. It’d been too long since he’d gotten any sleep at all and at last the complete and utter exhaustion took him over. You pushed on the bed, attempting and failing to drag yourself up.

You glanced at Hunter, considering only for a moment, then resurfaced your determination. No, you’d let him rest. You could do this. Grasping the blanket’s cocooning you, you attempted to untangle the heavy sheet entwining you. It was so heavy, suffocating.

With a heaving breath, you pushed your feet off the bed and lunged your body forward.

You were standing.

But as soon as you got up, you realized your mistake. The ship spun and the dull aches over your body were awakened. Your stomach’s pain blew its trumpet and your ears felt like balloons that were going to pop. You must have swallowed marbles because there was barely any room in your throat.

Oh well, you could only push forward.

Stumbling into the bathroom, you turned on the cold water. Perhaps that would help.

The first thing Hunter noticed was his hand was cold and clammy. The lack of warmth left a devoid and empty feeling embedded with a nervous foreboding.

Next came the darkness, which became a haze, and that haze turned into a bubble as he fought he was to consciousness. The bed in front of him was empty and Hunter could vaguely make out the things around him, noises indecipherable. He thought he heard trudging of feet scraping against the floor, the turning of a facet with the gush of water, then a loud crash, and thud with a BAM!

Instantly his body was alert. Dashing toward the source of the sound, he knew subconsciously what he’d find. Your body on the floor, sprawled out and drained. Your face was pale as death, eyes hollow. You didn’t look like this a few hours ago?

“Mesh’la? mesh’la! what happened? Did you hit your head? Why are you up?” A thousand questions spilled from his mouth in worry.

Worming his body behind yours, he gathered you up gently. You mumbled something that was lost even to his hearing.

Concerned, Hunter removed his gloves, and placed them on your face.

You leaned into his warmth, shivering, unable to get warm, yet your skin felt like fire to him. You were burning. Beads of sweat danced on your forehead as large as the tears that fell from your eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Cradling you now, he carefully wrapped himself around your body. This allowed you to curl in on yourself and tuck yourself in further to his chest.

“‘M sry.”

Kriff, you could barely speak.

“Don’t be sorry. I got you now.”

“Hunter, I-I can’t hear you too well.”

A wall of realization hit him hard. Kark it, he knew what happened.

The fever, the swelling, the loss of balance and your voice, not to mention your hearing?

You had an infection.

Fear invaded Hunter’s senses. He’d never been sick like this, having super immune genetics (one thing to thank the long necks for he supposed). But now, how could he help if he didn’t know what you were going through exactly?

This wasn’t the first time you were sick like this. He remembered the story you told of your childhood, and how one winter, you fell through the ice which resulted in something like this. The incident left you vulnerable and weakened, and he worried about you.

You were tough and fought it out. But what if you couldn’t fight this one off? Would your second brush with death be enough to claim you?

Tears swelled your eyes and poured onto your cheeks. Small sobs started to wrack your body as emotion overtook you.

“I…sorry…don’t burnden…’Mega, gotta find…”

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I got you, I got you. You’re not a burden. We’ll get you better then we’ll find her. Hey, I got you, it’s ok.” Hunter had no idea how he managed to sound so calm. He’d never seen you like this before and it terrified him. Your small sniffles and hiccups reminded him of a small child. Every nerve and essence of his being screamed at him to protect you.

“I’ll get you some water, I’ll be back. You have to stay hydrated.”

“Stay, I’ll get it.”

Hunter looked up to find Wrecker looking down at the two of you with a sad look in his eyes. “You should be with her.” He disappeared then returned a few minutes later with a full flask of cold water.

Hunter brought it to your lips, but you barely swallowed any before relinquishing your strength to an empty sleep, exhausted by the struggle.

Silence bore down on the three of you as Hunter and Wrecker looked on while you slept an uncomfortable sleep.

“I knew we should have stuck together.” Wrecker said sadly at last, not looking at Hunter. “I told her I’d come with her…”

“It’s not your fault, Wreck.”

“Bad things happen when we split up, I told her that….”

“This is all my fault.” Hunter hung his head. “I—”

“That kind of talk isn’t going to help her, Hunt. Don’t even think that. She made up her own mind. She was scared for ya, Hunt. She even started calling you ‘Hunt’ again.”

Hunter looked up surprised, then back down towards you. You’d stopped that since that morning on Pabu. You’d been formal with him afterward. It was either Sargeant or Hunter.

He shifted then lifted you in his arms, bringing you back to the bed. He set you down then ran his fingers through your damp hair, worry evident in his eyes.

“We need to get her to a hospital, Wreck. I don’t know what to do…Without Tech…I’m really scared right now.”

Wrecker placed a large, comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Then we go. We’ll get her better, Hunt. Don’t worry. I think we have a few of those fake IDs left Tech made. We’ll make something work.”

Swallowing hard, Hunter nodded.

Instead of letting go, Wrecker’s grip tightened. In one swift motion, Hunter was enveloped in a hug. If he was being honest, he didn’t mind in the least.

Hunter sat by you in silence as the ship flew through hyperspace toward the hospital, watching your fitful sleep. Your forehead was creased in pain and your mouth turned into a pout. One hand carefully stroked your sweat soaked hair, the other intertwined with yours.

The waiting was the worst part. Not being able to do anything to help or accept, fate could only take its course and he could only stand by and watch. The worst enemies were the ones he couldn’t protect you from and he hated that. He couldn’t fight the infection with his blade, or take away your pain by shooting the cause with a blaster bolt.

He leaned his forehead against yours and swallowed a sigh. Was this agony what you'd felt when he'd been shot? He remembered what delicate care you took of him. You'd been more than thoughtful, and tried not to show your concerns but he saw them anyway; just as he could always see you. But there was something else there that at the time he hadn't realized. And now he hoped he hadn't realized it too late.

“You asked me before if I’d settle down like Shep asked……………and in my dreams, yes. I always wanted to, even before he asked, with you. It was you, it was always and only you.”

Silence was your response.

“Please, don’t leave me now. I already lost the others, I can’t lose you too.”

The steady rhythm of your heart was promise enough for him right now, he had to hold onto hope.

“We can take it slow. Take our time. We don’t have to rush into anything but please, please stay with me and I’ll be yours for the rest of our lives. That’s my promise to you. I–I love you. Always have, always will.”

Perhaps if he’d hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the slight squeeze of his hand you have him.

Hunter walked into the hospital carrying you wearing civilian clothing hoping he looked more inconspicuous than he felt. He approached the nurse at the front desk.

“Excuse me, my wife needs help. She had an accident…”

“Chain codes.” the nurse said flatly without looking up but holding out her hand.

Hunter fished them out and gave them to her.

“It’s urgent, she needs to see a doctor ri–”

“Just sit down over there and the nurse will be with you shortly.”

“But she needs a doctor NOW!”

The nurse glanced up annoyed.

“Keep that up and she’ll have to wait a full rotation, buddy.”

Hunter glared but didn’t say a word. Normally he would have fought back harder but with your life on the line, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. So he did as he was bid, and took a seat in the waiting area.

You blinked your eyes open with a smile.

“Hey Handsome.”

You reached up for his face, and he took your hand in his and gave it a quick kiss.

“Hey,” Hunter kept his voice low, giving you a quick smile before making a quick survey of the area, “to catch you up real quick, we’re married. You’re my wife and we took you here after an accident on our farm. You’re going to be ok, ok?”

His eyes darted across your face, looking, searching, for any indication that his words would come true. Even here and now on the brink of being saved, he felt like you’d suddenly vanish and be taken from him.

He didn’t know what he expected from you, a nod of recognition maybe? But he didn’t get that. Instead, you chuckled.

“Married? Already? So much for wanting to take it slow, Hunter.”

To his surprise, a laugh burst from his lips, a smile replacing the worry for a second. He shook his head. Even now, you were trying to look out for him, making him laugh while you were the one who needed help.

“Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” His voice was warm and full. The deepness of his voice like chocolate on your sore ears, not that he’d know that of course. All he could hope for was that you could hear the depth of love and gratitude he had in such a few words.

You smiled, “always have, always will, I promise you that.”

Hunter heard the nurse approach and looked up, only to be faced with a jaw dropping phenomenon.

“How can I help you today? Wait…Hunter?”

It was Nala, your old classmate.

“Nala?” Hunter repeated, stunned. “You work here?”

“Yes…” her eyes drifted down to you.

An unsettled feeling came over Hunter. You hadn’t been in touch with anyone since Order 66. Whose side was Nala on?

He didn’t have to wonder long when her face went white and she dropped down on one knee to be at your level.

“What do you need? Let me assess her and see what I can do.”

Nala came running up carrying various vials and all but shoved them in Hunter’s pockets.

“Give her this as soon as possible. It’s safer for all of you if you just take it and administer it on your ship. I got word of Imperials coming here shortly. I’ve listed instructions on how to give it to her safely. You should go before someone recognizes you and hands you over. Goodbye, and good luck. Take good care of my friend. When she gets better, tell her to give me a call!”

With that, Nala turned and left, trying her hardest not to give an impression of concern.

Back on the ship, Hunter did as instructed. After making sure you were carefully placed in bed and made as comfortable as possible, he enlisted Wrecker’s help as soon as they’d jumped to hyperspace. Hunter knew Wrecker wasn’t going to like it, but there wasn’t another way.

You’ll want to give this one to her first. It’ll regulate her body so she can take the following medications. It’ll help her breathe easier and adjust to what’s coming…it won’t appear so right away so don’t worry. You’re going to need to give this to her in quick succession so don’t wait to see the effects.

Hunter injected the hypo into your arm.

This one is the IV with the antibiotics. Get her hooked up quickly and make sure the bag is drained before you take it out.

He rubbed your arm and inserted the needle.

This one, inject into her chest near her heart. This one will hurt the most.

This one, he couldn’t do.

“This…is going to hurt.”

“I know.” You stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath and collect your courage. “It’s ok.”

Of course you knew, you were a medic. He would have cringed at his own words, but he couldn’t help it. His own fear mocked him and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Pain was pain, and nothing could make him like it or want that for you. All he could do was prepare you in any way he could.

Your breathing was labored, huffing your breaths, greedy for air, gluttonously swallowing in as much as your lungs would let you.

“Tell me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to focus, “tell me about it? I can’t seem to remember anything from our big day. What happened? Who was there? How did it go….How did I look?” You huffed a little laugh at the last question, “nevermind, don’t answer that.” Your laugh caused a coughing fit to follow.

Hunter gripped you firmer as your body racked, fear unmasked in his eyes.

Shutting your own, you tried to center yourself.

“Crosshair probably made trouble, didn't he. He and Wreck competed to see who could eat the most cake and got sick, right?” Your voice was nothing other than a whisper, but Hunter could still pick up the dream-like tilt in your voice. The little smile as if it was a real memory, breaking across your lips.

“Of course, would you expect anything less?”

Another chuckle turned into a gasp of air.

Hunter kept his gaze on you as he spoke, his hand on your cheek facing him so you wouldn’t have to see what was to come. Rubbing gentle circles in your cheek and wiping away tears, he tried to speak without a shake in his voice. He didn’t know if he succeeded, but ever after that, he’d remember the images burned in his mind both, of the story he was telling and the raw reality of your pain.

“Tech filmed the entire thing; we’ll have to rewatch it; would you believe Echo had more champagne to drink than anyone? He was so happy the entire night. He was also the only one next to Wrecker to cry.”

You smiled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You looked beautiful all dressed in white…” he stumbled over his words now as Wrecker garnished the needle, “your dress dazzled with little jewel thingies and you liked spinning in it because it reminded you of a waterfall or a butterfly’s wing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. And when you walked toward me, I was a mess, because I knew I was the luckiest man in the world, and I couldn’t ever have imagined you more beautiful.”

You swallowed hard.

“Omega couldn’t stop smiling or singing; and when the music at the Pabu sunsets starts and the orange sun starts setting in the sky, it hit you just right and…”

You screamed as muffled of a scream as you could, but it rang in Hunter’s head so loud it bounced around until he felt like he was going to be sick.

“Aaand, and, when the sun set, we resaid our vows under the stars, just you and me. Always, just you and me. I’ve got you, it’s ok.”

Your eyes rolled back and all went dark.

Breathing never felt so sweet. You smiled, feeling like you could laugh and cry at the same time. The pain was gone and you felt great! Energy was surging, and life felt beautiful again. Despite the illness, you remembered everything that happened with vivid accuracy. Though your eyes were closed, your mind was very awake and registered everything in perfect memory.

Not just the pain, but the sweet moments too. Hunter taking such good care of you, his poor fear and concern, the thoughts he confessed because he thought you couldn't hear.

You felt the urge to stretch but couldn't move. Opening your eyes and looking around, the sight made your heart melt. Hunter was curled up half beside and half behind you. His body was curled in around yours, holding you as if he feared when he woke, you wouldn't be there.

Your heart was gripped by the softness of the gesture and you didn't want it to end.

You reached your hand up, running your fingers down his face and neck. The touch was enough to wake him. He stirred, then jolted with realization.

“You're awake!!!” Tears gathered in his eyes as he cupped your face with both his hands. “You're ok.” He smiled and swallowed so hard you could hear it. You embraced him, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you.”

You froze. You didn't expect him to actually confess to you while you were awake. Hunter sensed your hesitancy and started to pull away, but before he could move an inch, you were grabbing him toward yourself again.

“I love you, too. So much.”

“Can…we talk? I can't wait anymore.”

“Of course.”

Hunter turned shy. He found his hands extremely interesting as he fiddled with the blanket rim. His face turned red and he tripped over his words.

“I only said what I did because besides you….I wouldn't want to marry any other woman. Who would I even marry…if it wasn't you?”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“I always felt like you deserved way better than me…I can't offer you anything but myself and that's not much of a gift.”

“Hunter! No! You—”

He gave you a sheepish look and cut you off.

“And I'm so sorry for everything that happened, for how I hurt you. I should have gone to you sooner, I should have…”

Now it was your turn to cut him off, but instead of with words, you captured his mouth with yours in a kiss

You felt his shock, which made you smile, and soon he joined and returned your soft show of love, holding you even closer than before.

“You scared me.” Hunter said, kisses becoming needier.

“You scared me first!” You countered, meeting his veracity. “More than once!”

When you both stopped for breath, you settled back in his embrace.

“Hunter, you're all I could ever need or want. The gift of yourself is more precious than anything or anyone in the galaxy, and that's more than I deserve. All I've ever wanted was the war to end so we could have a family of our own, your brothers all be near us if they're not with us while we raise Omega and children of our own.”

Hunter's face darkened.

“I wasn't strong enough to protect you or keep this family together. I lost Omega.”

“You didn't lose her, Hunter. She made a choice. She didn't want to lose you, and neither did I. You don't control the galaxy or have some responsibility for everything that happens. It's ok to breathe, Hunt, and let go. All we can do is move onward and face the galaxy together, just like we always do.”

Hunter nodded, the shadow slowly falling from his face, replaced with something gentler.

“And that story I told before, about you in the white dress?”

“Yeah?” You blushed sheepishly, recalling with a bubbling laugh trapped inside your chest.

“What do you say we make that real?” Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “I want to see you all in white, for real. I want to be yours, only yours, forever. I want to have a family, with you and only you. My brothers can all live close by and we can all be together. We can raise Omega the way she deserves to be raised…and I can love you, the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Yes! Oh yes! My sergeant, I am yours and only yours, now and forever!”

Filled with new determination, you smiled even wider, gripped his hand and got out of bed.

“Come on, now, love, let's go get our kid. Time to bring our family home. Time to start healing and growing.”

"The Empire be warned, we're coming."

Dividers by @stars-n-spice @ve-ti-ver and @djarrex

#I gave Hunter's scarf a fate #We now know what happened to it #It deserved a story #Hunter's scarf is important and we recognize that here #sergeant hunter x you #hunter x you #hunter x reader #hunter #the bad batch #tbb hunter #star wars #tbb wrecker #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb omega #tbb echo #star wars the bad batch #clone fic gift exchange #TBBE24

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wardenparker · 4 months

Text

Next to Normal, part 3

Joel Miller x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: 18+! Explicit for violence Word Count: 11.9k Warnings: Reader's age isn't pinpointed but you/she are old enough to remember the way the world worked before the Outbreak. Swearing. PTSD, past death of a child, mentions of pregnancy and STIs, panic attack, trauma reactions, home invasion, threats of murder, infliction of mortal injuries, descriptions of broken bones and other wounds, blink and you’ll miss It mention of drug use, manipulation, gaslighting, revenge, conspiracy, death. DEAD DOVE. DO NOT EAT. This chapter contains graphic violence! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! Summary: Things have been going well with Joel until one fateful movie night. It will take fighting past all of your demons to make it to your happily ever after. Notes: The finale of this three-parter was particularly emotional for me to write and the relief of a happy ending was absolutely necessary. My hope is that there is absolutely no one in the world who can relate to the reader as she/you go through hell, but I'm realistic enough to know better. So to all my kindred spirits who struggle, I hope you find catharsis in reader's journey.

Part 1 ~ Part 2

Winter turned to spring with an ease and grace that almost made you forget that times are hard. The outside world is moving in whatever way it does, but Jackson is doing well. Ellie is learning basic agriculture in the fields on her school break and Joel is becoming more and more a way a part of how this town runs. He gets consulted on matters as a prominent citizen, from the basic to the complicated. This morning he was off at another meeting but he’ll be all yours for the afternoon, and then there is the movie at night. It is shaping up to be a nearly perfect day, as days go in this world, and you sit in your sewing nook letting out the seams on some dresses for a family in town with young girls — they’re growing like weeds and the girls’ favorite dresses are now too tight. Well, you can certainly fix that.

“Joel?” The door opens and Tommy sticks his head in to see if his brother is here. “Sorry, is Joel here? I need to talk to him.”

“He’s in the basement.” It’s become something of a workshop for him, but you wave for Tommy to come in. He knows the way down. “Is everything okay?”

“Had something come up.” Tommy admits, shuffling into the house and shutting the door. “Need to see if he can help.”

“I’m sure he can.” Instinctively, and wanting to be helpful, you set your sewing aside and move to the open door at the top of the basement stairs. “Joel? Tommy’s here to see you, honey.”

“Send him down.” Joel calls back up, grunting and there’s the sound of something being set down on the concrete floor. “Or send him away. Hell if I wanna put up with him.” He jokes.

“Asshole.” Tommy jokes with a rumble, but thanks you and heads down the stairs. “The hell you doing down here, building a bunker? The world already ended.”

Joel snorts and shrugs. “Makin’ some cabinets for her.” He motions towards the half-finished organizers. “For her doo-dads and stuff. Figured I might get it done by Christmas if I started now.”

“She’s happy.” It makes Tommy smile to see the two of you together these days. You’ve come so far with Joel, and he has softened so much with you. “It’s good to see.”

“You come to see me for any one reason? Or to comment on domestic bliss?” He raises a brow at his brother, slightly uncomfortable with the idea that your happiness is tied to him. You’ve been healing, but he’s not entirely sure that it’s because of him.

“Need you to come downtown.” Leaning back against the wall, Tommy shoves his hands in his pockets. “Patrol got their asses handed to them by a group of raiders and some wanderer helped them out of a tight spot. They blindfolded him and brought him back to town to stitch him up and they’re talking about letting him stay. But town council needs to meet on it and interview the guy.”

Joel isn’t a council member, even though some apparently thought him as good as one. “Can’t.” He shakes his head. “Gotta work on that pen with Ellie and then it’s movie night.”

“I know it’s movie night.” Tommy digs the toe of his boot into the floor of the basement. “That’s why they wanted this settled fast. Nobody wants to give up movie night.” He nods though, and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’ll tell ‘em you were busy.”

“Sorry.” Joel frowns slightly. “I just— I promised her a night.” He lowers his voice and looks towards the stairs to make sure you aren’t coming down. “It’s…that time and I’m tryin’ to keep her busy so the nightmares don’t come.”

“I know.” Tommy nods, knowing exactly what time of year you were found, considering he was the one who found you. Your boy should be turning a year old tomorrow, but that will never happen. “Is she…how has she been?”

“There’s some rough days.” Joel won’t deny that, he can’t. “But I think being here with us, living with me and Ellie, has been good for her.”

“It’s as normal as any of us are going to get.” Tommy offers, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ll get out of your hair. You good, otherwise?”

“Yeah.” Joel nods and shoots his brother a look. “Thanks, for covering for me.”

"Once Maria gets your ass on the town council there won't be any helping you." He shoots his brother a grin and Tommy shakes his head, laughing at the thought. "See you tonight?"

Joel snorts. “See you tonight.” He promises, frowning as Tommy quickly ascends the stairs and huffs. His own knees would be crackling at the pace his younger brother was moving. The truth was, Joel didn’t want to stray too far from you over the next day or so, so he had come up with reasons to work down in the basement.

"Everything okay?" When you stick your head down the stairs a few minutes later after seeing Tommy out the door, Joel has his head back over his workbench.

“Yeah.” Joel looks up and is met with a worried shadow in your eyes. “Nothin’ to worry about. He just was tryin’ to recruit me for council business again.”

"They want you to join." Coming halfway down the stairs, you sit on the middle step as you've become accustomed to. It keeps you close to him but not close enough to be underfoot.

“Councils.” He snorts, looking up at you with a roll of his eyes. “Can you imagine me on a council?”

"They'd probably get more done," you tell him honestly. "Because you wouldn't put up with them sitting around talking in circles all day."

“I don’t talk, I act.” You know this, though he probably talks to you more than anyone else in this goddamn town.

"I know, love. That's why they want you." Still, you understand his hesitance to join in on anything like that. Joel doesn't like politicking and he doesn't like being responsible for anymore than just your little family.

“They can want in one hand…” he trails off and looks back up at you. “How’s the sewing going? That peddle workin’ alright on the machine?”

"Things are going a hell of a lot faster thanks to you." The previous town seamstress's sewing machine had broken and there hadn't been any luck in fixing it before Joel. Now, though? You're moving through projects with ease. "Thank you for that."

“Anything for you.” The simplicity of the words don’t smudge their meaning. Joel would do anything for you. It’s just the way he’s wired.

"I love you, too." A fact which still reduces you to a stammering schoolgirl in some ways, but it's the truth. Loving Joel has restored you in so many ways.

He huffs in embarrassment but his eyes soften as he sends you a small smile. “Love you too.”

“I’ll let you work.” As much as you like to be close to him as much as possible, you know he has work to do and so do you. “When are you going to help Ellie with the pen?”

“When she comes tracking back in.” Joel snorts and shoots you a look. “You tell her that if she doesn’t brush off her boots, she’s sweepin’ the floors.”

“Okay, love.” You chuckle softly as you get up from the stairs and blow him a kiss before heading back upstairs.

Joel watches you walk up the stairs, frowning slightly. He’s worried, waking up with a sense of foreboding that he’s learned to not ignore. Something’s going to happen. Walking over to a cabinet, he opens it to reveal the supplies he’s started slowly acquiring. His eyes narrow slightly, reaching out and touching the hunting knife in front of him.

******

“Joel c’mon, we’re gonna be laaaate!” Ellie wails across the pen, pulling her jacket back on after their work is done.

“Alright.” The kid needs to learn to put her tools up, but she did a decent job. “Grab your stuff.”

“I got it!” She yells, triumphantly holding up the tool belt that Tommy had lent to her for the work.

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You aren’t eager for the movie are you? Or is it more the person you’re sittin’ with?”

The grin instantly slips from Ellie’s face and morphs into an embarrassed blush. “Don’t know what yer talkin’ about,” she mumbles, kicking the dirt.

“Nothin’ to be embarrassed about.” Joel scoffs. “Dina’s a nice girl. You obviously like spending time with her.”

“She’s so pretty.” There’s a dreamy quality to the teenager’s face when she looks up again and Ellie swings herself over to Joel’s side enthusiastically. “And she…she holds my hand sometimes. But I probably shouldn’t overthink that, right?”

“Don’t under think it either.” Joel cautions her. “Don’t want her to think that you’re bored by her.”

“Right.” That seemed to not even occur to Ellie, and she furrows her brow in tight as they start to walk back toward their house. “Is that what happened with you guys? Why she didn’t know you even liked her at first?”

“Probably.” Joel admits easily. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed, kid, but I’m kind of an asshole.”

“Oh no, I know.” The grin she beams at him is enormous, like Joel’s grumpiness is her private amusement. “Somehow she doesn’t seem to care, though.”

“No, she doesn’t.” A fact that continues to astonish him. “But I try to be less of an asshole to her. That’s important in a relationship.” He tells Ellie like he’s imparting important wisdom.

“Don’t…be an asshole…to…Dina.” Ellie mimics writing the advice in the air on an invisible chalkboard and smirks. “Got it.”

“Good.” He snorts, rolling his eyes and huffing at the sarcasm displayed by the teenager. “You could get her some ice cream tonight.” He suggests.

“Ya think?” It seems to be an idea that hasn’t yet occurred to Ellie and immediately her eagerness has her walking faster. “Ohhh, yeah. She’d love that!”

Joel watches her pull ahead in amusement. “It’s the little things that count, kid.”

She could make a joke about his little thing, but that’s just gross to think about and she flinches instead as she walks along the road. “It’s just hard to know, ya know?” She says after a while. “If she likes me or not, I mean.”

“Yeah, I get that.” Joel doesn’t treat it as a joke, because it’s not. People are still emotional creatures and yearn for connection, even at the end of the world. “You should ask her to do something.” He suggests. “Something different.”

“Like when you guys go star gazing?” She asks, turning around to face him while she walks backward.

Joel smirks slightly, knowing that the star gazing often turns into more, but he just shrugs. “Something like that. Bird watching, star gazing, collecting shiny rocks from the riverbed.”

“Shiny rocks is good.” Like it’s the most profound thought in the world, Ellie nods. “We could go, like…walking on the river and pick up stones and look for birds?”

“Yeah.” Joel nods and smiles at the sight of Ellie staring off dreamily as she imagines her date. “Just be safe, you know?” He adds, clearing his throat. “Just because, you know, there can’t be babies doesn’t mean you can’t catch something.”

“Oh, ew, okay, way to ruin it.” She sticks her tongue out at him and makes a grossed out sound just as the house comes into view.

“Yeah, that’s what I get for trying to talk about that shit.” He chuckles and winces at the way he has managed to mess that up. “I’m sure you know all about what you need to know.” You have been a great motherly figured and he feels like having Ellie to dote on has helped you too.

It’s a few minutes later that Ellie busts in the front door of the house and sheds her jacket and tool belt to immediately to run upstairs. “Everything okay?” You ask Joel when he ambles in after her. “Ellie didn’t say a word when she came in. I’m assuming either something went wrong or she’s nervous about seeing Dina?”

Joel grins, a mischievous glint to his gaze as he looks at you. “Embarrassed her.” He admits shamelessly. “Told her that just because there won’t be no babies, don’t mean there can’t be something caught.” He feels just like he did when he embarrassed Sarah years ago.

“Nothing says quality Dad time like horrifying your teenager.” The smile you have for him is soft and sweet, and you wait until he’s shucked his jacket and set down his tools to kiss him.

His arms come around you easily. His own pressing of his lips against yours soft and promising. “Yeah. It’s pretty great.” He jokes, squeezing you slightly.

This is what’s great, and you sigh softly to yourself without even realizing it as the two of you just stand in the living room holding each other. The sense of serenity in just this house alone is such an enormous comfort to you and it’s almost entirely due to this man. “She’s a good kid,” you murmur in agreement.

“She is. And she’s about to have her first real girlfriend.” He snorts. “They grow up so fast, don’t they?”

“Yeah.” A small nod of your head comes as your eyes drop back to the floor, thinking of the son you buried who will never see these milestones. “They do…”

“I’m sorry, beautiful girl.” It was a thoughtless comment, even for him. Knowing your loss and his own loss, he should have never said anything.

“It’s okay.” Sniffling the feeling away as best you can, you set your face to rights again and offer him a smile. “It’s just…I had another dream about him last night. That’s all.” They’re less frequent than they were but they do still happen regularly. It’s a battle not to let them take over your whole mind.

“I wish you were still holdin’ him.” Joel murmurs softly, pulling you into his arms for a comforting hug. “That I could have protected you both.”

“Nothing could have saved him.” As much as it hurts, you’ve had to make your peace with losing your son. There just wasn’t any way to keep him alive — especially considering you barely kept yourself alive. What’s terrifying is, as you lean into Joel’s chest, you could swear that you can feel hope winging in your chest. “At least…if it ever happens again…I know we’ll be safe this time.”

He wants to immediately shoot that down, to pretend you had never mentioned it. Too painful to even imagine losing another child, losing you. “I swear you would be safe.” Is what he promises, his hold on you tightening even more. As if his hug could shelter you from all the unknowns.

“I’m not asking for another. I’m not even sure I want another.” That clarification feels vitally important as his arms squeeze you tight. “I’m just saying, if it happened…I wouldn’t have to be scared.”

“You never have to be scared as long as I’m here.” He promises instantly. “If it happened, you ain’t gotta worry about me. I’ll take care of you.”

It’s a hell of a conversation to have almost by accident, considering you haven’t even had ‘traditional’ sex yet, but it’s important. Because you will. With the way you love him and the way he loves you, it’s not too far away. “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too, beautiful girl.” By accident, Joel had learned that you love when he cups your cheek gently, so he does it now.

“When you two are done being mushy, I’m ready to go.” Neither of you had even heard Ellie come downstairs again, but here she is, grinning at you and teasing unrepentantly.

“Well, if you’re ready to go, what are we waiting for?” Joel huffs sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the teenager.

“For you to change your smelly ass shirt.” Ellie snorts.

Joel rolls his eyes, but he pulls away, knowing that he had been sweating plenty while working on the pen. “I’ll be two minutes.” He promises you.

Two minutes is enough for you to put away the last of your sewing, and Joel comes back down in a clean shirt with a smile on his face, ready to take his girls to a movie. It never matters what the movie is, you always go, always thinking back to that first date from months ago when things had started falling into place.

“Dina and Ellie are probably going to go sit by themselves, do you want to sit with Tommy and Maria, or find a cozy spot?” Joel asks as all of you walk out of the house.

“I’m feeling cozy,” you admit, taking his hand to hold when he offers it to you. “But we can be cozy next to your brother and Maria if you like. I can’t even remember what the movie is tonight. You might want to actually watch it.”

“Naaaaaahhhhh.” There’s been too many movies between that first one and now, but he’s still concentrating on you. Just the normalcy of being in this position with you.

“Gross.” Bemoans the teenager just a few feet away, but Ellie smirks more these days when she teases you than she used to. Since admitting she likes Dina, she seems to get it a little more.

“Whatever kid.” Joel slings his arm around your shoulder, having talked about the more casual touches and setting boundaries for everyday life after you moved in. You hadn’t wanted him to ask permission every time and he hadn’t wanted you to feel you had to feel bad for not wanting to be touch. So you had introduced a color system. If it was a hands off moment, you would tell ‘red’ and he wouldn’t touch you. If you told him ‘yellow’ it was an ask day. ‘Green’, like you had confirmed earlier before Tommy had arrived, meant he was free to touch you in a non-sexual way without any questions.

The walk is easy. Halfway there Dina appears from her own house to join Ellie, and a little bit further down the road you’re joined by the two women who have taken on being Jackson’s schoolteachers. Casual chatting is easy tonight. You don’t worry when Ellie and Dina slip ahead to find seats in their own back corner. You don’t worry because there hasn’t been reason to. Not in so very long.

Joel looks around the room, not because he’s measuring a threat or searching for an exit, just…seeing who is here. He sees Maria and Tommy chatting with a town council member and he wonders how the interview went. Not enough to move from your side as he guides you towards a pair of chairs, but he notices a stranger standing off to the side, dumbly watching the scene in front of him. “Huh.” He grunts.

“Want to sit in back?” Your eyes are on Joel and there is mischief in your smile when you look up at him. His arm is still around you and there’s something in the casual care of it that you’ve grown to love.

“Yeah.” He looks into your eyes and a slight smirk makes his face transform from hard to playful. “Take up the back so the kids can’t have it. We’ll make out.”

"They're not gonna kiss the first time at the movies." From talking with Ellie you know that she and Dina are either a long way off from that happening — or possibly a kiss will happen that will spark the conversation and other necessary things. But either way, the first one is definitely not going to happen in public. "We can definitely steal some back row seats from them."

“Never know.” Joel leans in to whisper in your ear. “Figure she might be smarter than the average kid.”

"Smart enough to treat her girl right." You can agree to that entirely. For now you tuck into his side, weaving your way through the seats to find your customary place in a dark corner.

When you turn into the seats with your fingers tangled through Joel's, though, you stop short. Sitting with another one of the town council members who is always hounding Joel to accept their invitation to join, is a tall man with rounded shoulders and an unkempt beard. His hair is shaggy and his eyes skirt around the room furtively, sussing out as many details and inspecting as many faces as they can until they fall on you. "Oh god..." Freezing in place at Joel's side, your fingers dig into his arm immediately, clawing at him instead of your usual gentle grip. "I—Joel—I think I'm having a flashback," you murmur quietly, not trusting your eyes even though the man sitting six feet away looks almost nothing like he did when you left Chicago over a year ago.

“What?” Joel frowns and he immediately reaches out to stroke your neck like you enjoy. “Still green?” He asks quietly, unsure of what has you rattled, but if something is bothering your peace, he wants to help.

“I need you to tell me if you see that man.” As shaky and as quiet as your voice is — barely a whisper — you don’t take your eyes off of the figure sitting by the windows for even a second. “With the brown hair and the thin beard?”

Joel frowns and quickly turns around. “The green plaid?” He asks as he looks away from the man back to you, noting how your breath is starting to rapidly increase, you’re about to have a panic attack. “Black jeans?”

“Oh god…” You had been hoping it wasn’t real. That he wasn’t real. That it was just your mind ruining your good mood with conjured images and fears that had so recently been put to bed. But now your vision is blurring and your knees are buckling, and the world is spinning around you so quickly that you feel like you’re going to be sick as your skin starts to crawl. “How?” You keep repeating, over and over again, muttering the word to yourself like a broken record. “How is he here? How?”

Something is seriously wrong and Joel is a man who going to fix what’s wrong. Turning back around, the man is gone and he quickly stands, pulling you to your feet. “Let’s go, beautiful girl.” He rushes out, knowing you would not want to have whatever is going on made public.

“How?” It’s like your mind is stuck on the worst kind of repeated loop, bumping over that one word, and you feel so stiff and terrified that you can barely swallow despite nearly hyperventilating and the tears now streaming down your cheeks. “How did he get here? How did he find me?”

“Who, beautiful girl, who?” Joel pulls you outside the movie theatre that used to be the old electronics store and cups your cheeks. “Who is he?” He knows, he feels it in his gut, but he wants you to say it.

The light in your eyes, the one that has so carefully been fostered and nurtured over the months you’ve spent in Jackson and especially with Joel, has completely gone out as you hiccup over a sob. Even two syllables are too much to take when you had felt so safe. “Aidan.”

His jaw hardens, his eyes flattening and darkening at the mention of the man who had tortured you. Done unspeakable things to you and nearly broken you. The name he had hoped you wouldn’t say. “They had a stranger come in today.” Joel wishes he had gone now, interviewed this man. “He helped the scouting party and they brought him in to interview.” Joel rubs his hands up and down your arms. “I’ll talk to Tommy, get him kicked out. He won’t stay.”

“He saw me.” You had looked each other straight in the eyes. It’s how you knew, in the worst pit of your stomach, that you weren’t hallucinating him. “H-he’s never going to leave i-if he knows I’m—I’m here…”

“Look at me.” Joel’s voice hardens slightly, knowing you are about to break down and he wants to keep you clear-headed. “He. Won’t. Touch. You.” He promises slowly, clearly. “They aren’t gonna want that son of a bitch here. He must have lied to the council and that doesn’t go over with them.”

“How?” Is all you can manage, feeling months’ worth of happiness shred apart inside you. Joel has you leaning with your back to the side of the building, but with every passing second your legs are giving out beneath you and you’re starting to slide to the ground in a deluge of new tears. You’ll never be safe. It will never be over.

He knows that nothing he can say will make you feel better, nothing. “Let me take you home.” He insists. “Then I’ll talk to Tommy.”

“Please don’t leave?” Any chance you have at protection lies with him and him alone, and you’re now more certain than ever that if he leaves your side, you’re doomed.

“Okay, okay beautiful girl.” Joel pulls you close. “I won’t leave. Let me take you home and Ellie can come home on her own.”

“O-okay.” As long as he doesn’t leave you, that’s what matters right now, and you cling to Joel like a lifeline when you hear the building doors open around the corner and the sound of heavy boots on the street.

“Joel?” It’s Tommy’s voice calling into the night. He must have seen you bolt for the door.

“Shhhhh, shhhhh, it’s Tommy.” Even though you know it’s his brother, your body tenses and you let out a whimper that breaks Joel’s heart as much as it makes him what to rip this Aidan apart. “I’m over here.”

“Everything okay?” When Tommy saunters around the side of the building it is immediately apparent that something is extremely wrong, and the younger Miller brother frowns in confusion.

“That fucker the council let in.” Joel growls, turning a fierce glare on the younger Miller, even though he had nothing to do with it. “What’s his name?”

“Um…Michael? Mike? Turner, I think it was. Mike Turner. Why?” He doesn’t like how pale you look, or how hard you have obviously been crying, and Tommy crosses his arms in discomfort. “Did he say or do something?”

“His fucking name is Aidan.” Joel hisses, looking back at you and hating how you flinch at the mere name.

“What the fuck?” Tommy’s eyes blow wide at that accusation, knowing exactly who ‘Aidan’ is and why you aren’t thrilled to hear the name ever. “That motherfucker is Aidan Stokes? You’re sure?”

“I’m taking her home.” He tells his brother. “Have Ellie sleep at your place?” He knows you will have a bad night and the best thing is to minimize the people witnessing it. Tommy nods and Joel pulls you away from the walk. “And get that fucker the hell out of here.” He calls over his shoulder, wishing he could take care of the problem himself.

“I’m on it.” Tommy promises, taking in the expression of pure terror and twisted grief on your features. In thirty seconds flat it’s as if you’ve gone back to being the same panicked little creature that you were when he had found you almost a year ago.

“Come one, beautiful girl.” Joel’s hands are gentle, trying to soothe as he coaxes you along. “We will get back to the house. Ellie will be at Tommy’s, all safe, and you will be with me. I won’t go anywhere.”

“I’m sorry.” Even murmured under your breath, the apology sounds just like the shadow of yourself that you had been for so long before Joel walked into Jackson and into your life. Apologizing for taking up space. For infringing on anyone else’s existence. For having the audacity to exist yourself.

“You got nothin’ to apologize for, beautiful girl.” If anything, he should apologize to you for not checking on that stranger. For exposing you to the terror of your past.

“Please don’t leave…” That thought is first and foremost in your head right now, barely even looking where you’re going through the sheet of shaky tears. You just can’t stomach the thought of losing Joel now, after so much. It would be like losing everything.

“Why would I leave?” He asks softly, aware that you are vulnerable and scared after seeing the specter of your nightmares. “You ain’t gettin’ rid of me, beautiful girl, I’m right here.”

There is a surge of it’s not fair slicing through the undercurrent of your thoughts, but more than not fair and more than scary, the situation is volatile. “He doesn’t know…” you remind Joel, clinging to his arm like the lifeline that it is. “Th—that—that I buried the baby.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Joel promises you quietly. “He’s not going to bother you, not gonna touch you.” He knows that Tommy will do what’s necessary to get the fucker gone from the community. Especially given what he knows was done to you.

“He’s going to try to.” Somewhere in the worst pit of your stomach, you know Aidan will try his hardest to get to the child he thinks you still have. Regardless of whose baby it biologically was, he had always viewed it as his. There had been weeks and months of taunting you over how that baby was going to be his control over you. So much so that you were actually a little grateful when he died. For his sake as much as your own.

“He’s leaving. We will make sure he’s gone.” Tommy will, because Joel isn’t going to leave your side. “You’re safe, sweet girl, I’m not going to let him even talk to you.” Fury floods his entire body, dark and brooding. Angry that this man has stolen the hard fought peace that you have started enjoying.

It doesn’t take long to get home with Joel hustling you along the street, even if you live outside of the main reaches of what could be considered downtown. You’re bundled into the house and stay next to Joel, watching him lock the doors and carefully walk through the house to assure you that you’re safe.

“We’re safe.” Joel promises you, stripping off the light jacket you had brought with you and rubbing your arms. He wants to kiss you, but is unsure if it might trigger some memories for you.

“I don’t know how he found me.” That’s the real question for you, and you’ve been rolling it over and over in your head since your head stopped spinning as badly.

“Don’t think he was expecting you to be here.” Joel didn’t miss the surprise and fury in the man’s face when he looked over at him. “Unhappy accident.”

“Fucking miserable accident,” you sigh, letting yourself slump forward into Joel’s arms for all the security and warmth that they provide.

“I know, beautiful girl.” Joel growls, shaking his head. “He’s stolen your smile, and I’m not going to allow that. He’s not going to interrupt your peace again.”

"I don't think I'm going to be able to sleep tonight." It's bullshit. Complete and utter bullshit, the way ten seconds has stolen away (in Joel's words) a whole year of progress. "But I don't want you to not sleep on my account."

“You think I’m gonna sleep if you’re awake?” Joel would roll his eyes, but he knows you will just shut down even more. “No, beautiful girl, we can stay up together. Make sure that you are safe. And then, when he’s out of this town and out of our lives for good, we’ll sleep.”

"I'm sorry." The murmured apology is less for something you've done directly and more for the fact that you know this is affecting his life in a very distinct way now. A way that he would not have to worry about at all if not for you.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” He cups your cheek. Tilting your head up from where it’s looking down at the floor. Holding your chin is a no for you, but you don’t fight him. “Nothin’.” He repeats. “You want a hot bath? Soak? I can sit on the toilet seat while you do.”

"I just want to get in bed." Something about the vulnerability of being naked is too much to deal with right now and you shake your head slightly, hoping he will understand. "Can't exactly turn on the tv and zone out to a bad movie anymore." You wish you could, but because of that bastard you had to leave movie night.

“You want to change into your softest pajamas and then we can curl up?” Joel offers. “I can go into the bathroom and get you a glass of water while you change.”

"Stay with me?" The pajamas and curling up part sounds perfect, but you swallow thickly at the idea of him going anywhere. It's clingy, sure, but right now that's pretty fucking understandable. I don't...I don't think I can be alone."

“Always, beautiful girl.” Joel nods and he pushes the bedroom door almost closed after he steps back from you. Starting to shrug out of his jacket. “We’ll just pretend the rest of the world doesn’t exist, hmm? Sound good to you?” He wishes he had some of the drugs he used to peddle in Boston, he would give you a few to calm you down if you wanted.

"Would you...mind talking to me?" The monologue in your head — all that noise that overtakes and overwhelms you with anxiety — quiets when Joel talks. Like your nerves are only willing to listen to him and him alone. "About anything. I just...it helps quiet all the angry thoughts."

“Sure, beautiful girl.” He’s dealt with this before, with Ellie after her run in with David, and he kicks off his shoes. “Thinkin’ I might take that council seat after all.” Tonight has been the deciding factor for him. “Have a say in who comes into this place. It’ll mean that some of the repairs will have to be done by Thompson, but he’s comin’ along. He’s not a complete idiot.”

"A town like this can't survive with just one good handyman." It's already better, just hearing him talk. The soothing cadence of Joel's voice sheds just a speck of anxiety everytime he opens his mouth and you remind yourself that you have to move. You're supposed to be changing your clothes to get ready for bed.

“Tommy’s better, but don’t tell him I said that.” His belt opens and he quickly unbuttons his jeans. “Man’s getting a little too cocky, strutting around here with that goofy grin of his.”

"He's happy." Tommy has a full life here. One that he reached out and took hold of with both hands and full determination. He has a wife and a baby and work that keeps him satisfied and busy. That's not the kind of thing he ever could have claimed about his life before Jackson. It's something to be proud of, and you're happy for your friend. Even if right now happy feels a million miles away.

“Yeah, he is.” It’s amazing to say, even more amazing to realize that his own feelings are pretty goddamn close to happy as well. At least until about twenty minutes ago. “What a loser.” He jokes, chuckling at his own lame joke. You have started undressing and he’s happy that you are focused on something else.

"Before tonight, I would have said we were happy, too." There is no lingering stroll across the room, or fully stripping down before completely redressing in your pajamas like usual. As soon as your regular shirt is off, the soft material of your sleep shirt replaces it. No sooner are jeans shed than warm sweatpants replace them. This is perfunctory, not an enjoyable and lazy night with your boyfriend.

“We are happy.” Joel soothes quietly. “Today is a bad day. Tomorrow might be too, but he’s not going to ruin our happiness, even if it takes a few steps back.” Joel sits on the edge of the bed, watching you as your fingers fumble with the edges of your shirt. “How do you want to cuddle, beautiful girl?” He asks. “You want me surrounding you? Or do you want to sprawl out on me?” He wants to give you as much control as possible right now, knowing how helpless you feel.

“I need you around me.” He really is your safe place. There is no doubt about that. But as you take a step toward him and the bed, the sounds of someone pounding on the front door downstairs ring through the brittle air.

Joel’s springing to his feet and frowning. Especially since you immediately look like you’re about to faint. “Go to the bathroom.” He tells you. “Lock the door.”

There are a lot of thing a in the world that you doubt — almost everything, really — but not Joel. Even though you feel frozen you manage to do what he tells you, grasping him in a tight hug before he closes the bathroom door for you beside your bedroom and you click the lock into place. Do you need him around you to feel safe and supported? Absolutely. But you’ve also learned to trust his instincts.

The hunting knife from the basement had been moved to his dresser and he grabs it before coming down the stairs. Listening to the pounding on the door as he crawls closer. On edge until he recognizes the silhouette of his brother.

The moment the door cracks open Joel sees the panic on Tommy’s face and his little brother smooths the hairs out of his face with one expressive hand. “Is she okay?” He asks immediately, your safety being top priority in this moment.

“She’s upset. But she’s fine.” Joel frowns, looking around. “Why are you here?”

The frown on Tommy’s lips is immediate, forehead creasing in apologetic embarrassment. “He’s—Stokes— he’s gone,” he admits quietly, just in case you’re nearby.

“He’s gone?” Joel frowns and steps outside. “What the fuck does that mean? You’ve already kicked him out?” It doesn’t seem like Tommy would be so upset by this fact so something’s not adding up.

“By the time I got back into the movie he had bolted,” Tommy explains, obviously pained to have to admit that he’s fucked up your safety. Or at least that he feels like it’s his fault. “Town council’s got people patrolling and staked out all over and the movie’s going ahead so nobody gets spooked.”

Joel reaches out and grabs the edges of Tommy’s jean jacket. “I’m going to kill him.” He growls to his brother. “When he’s caught, I’m going to ‘escort’ him out of town. Won’t do it here, but she’s nearly catatonic with panic.”

“If I find him first, I’m getting a few hits in for what he did to her,” his brother promises him. Tommy’s felt like an overprotective brother since the day he brought you into town. These days? He takes the job pretty literally.

“Shit.” Joel lets go of Tommy’s jacket and steps back into the opened door. “I need to— don’t tell her.” He warns him. “If he’s not caught right away. I can’t— we aren’t leavin’ this house.”

“It’ll only make her more scared to know he’s running around.” Tommy can absolutely agree to that, though he knows you might be upset with them later for not keeping you completely informed. The less fear and panic you feel, the better.

“I’m not gonna tell her, but I’m not gonna let her leave until I know that fucker is in ropes, ready to be lead to slaughter.” Joel frowns.

“Fair enough.” Considering Tommy has a knife in one pocket and a gun on his other hip, it’s fair to bet that he feels the same way. “I’m sorry, Joel. If I’d have been faster we coulda taken care of this easily. But we’ll get it sorted.” He’s ready to go — ready to join the patrol that is currently stalking the streets of Jackson — when he hears a sound in the basement.

Joel freezes, eyes narrowing as he listens. The second step from the bottom of the basement stairs creaks and it just made a sound. “He fucking— that bastard.” Joel hisses, spinning around and rushing towards the basement door.

The door makes a sickening crack when Joel throws it open, but Tommy is on his heels. The motherfucker followed them. He took a look at a happy and healthy and thriving woman and decided to ruin her again. He just didn’t bet on the fucking Miller brothers to be in his way.

Joel goes barreling down the stairs, lowering his shoulder at the figure that is about halfway up. Grunting when he connects with the body, Joel pushes off the stairs and launches both him and the motherfucker into the air.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” When he hits the ground he’s sure he hears something crack in his shoulder. The figure that flew at him is a blur and there’s more footsteps on the stairs that he can’t see the owner of through the fist headed straight for his face.

The first crack of a fist hitting bone is sharp, pain blooming in his fist and radiating up his arm, but Joel barely registers it. Fury numbing him to the pain and adrenaline coursing through his veins. “Fucker.”

“What—fuck—what the fuck?!” Putting up his arms to cover his face and thinking fast, he tries to pull away and keep from getting his face ruined.

"Break into my house." Joel growls furiously, pulling his fist back again and letting it fly. "Looking for her."

“Looking for my baby!” It’s the sympathy vote. Banking on shame and embarrassment and not being willing to tell the entire story to worm his way through the details. The sob story is his best chance of not getting his face beat in.

Joel knows what the man is doing. He had heard the same sad excuses used by others once upon a time when he was less than scrupulous. Not that he's an upstanding citizen now, but this is personal. "Didn't knock." Joel points out as he grabs the man's jacket and hauls him up so that the single light from a bare bulb illuminates your tormentor's face and gives his own a dark, foreboding, shadow as he glares down at him. "Big mistake." He grunts right before punching him again.

“Wait—wait!” Kicking his legs and barely managing to throw the next blow, the descent of another assailant at the bottom of the stairs and another fist comes out of nowhere along with a pained scream.

“Why are you here?” Joel roars, gripping the man with both hands and shaking him like a rag doll, furious that he would dare break in to harm you.

“For my baby!” He tries again, mind not really working hard on a new excuse when he’s trying to fend off now two grown men apparently intent on beating the shit out of him.

“There is no baby.” From the top of the stairs, your voice cuts through the din — shaky but loud enough to be heard.

Joel’s head twists around and he stares at the black figure at the top of the stairs. “We have him.” He pants, keeping the iron grip on the man who had tortured you and makes him hiss in pain when he grabs his hair and yanks his head back for you to see his already battered face. He knows it pains you to admit your son is gone, but he’s concentrating on your safety.

“I can see that.” The click of metal comes before you step down the stairs, Joel’s gun held out in front of you with a surprisingly steady hand. “I could hear it from upstairs.”

“You don’t have to be around him.” Joel promises you, keeping an eye on you as you descend the stairs with the gun in your hand. He knows you won’t shoot him, but you could drop the revolver.

From catatonic with fear to oddly quiet and resolute, your entire mood has changed in the mere minutes that Joel has been gone. It was the idea that he could hurt Joel that changed everything. That the happiness that you’ve fought so hard for here in Jackson could be taken by the same man who stole your entire sense of self for so long. That isn’t going to happen. “He’s in our house,” you remind Joel flatly. As if to say that makes him both our problem.

“Our house?” The man on the ground has the audacity to sneer the question. Making Joel hiss. “Managed to get your hooks into this one already? Knew you were a slut.”

Joel growls, turning around and slamming the man into the concrete so his head bounces few good times before yanking him up again. “Shut the fuck up before I rip your goddamn tongue out.” He warns darkly.

“Why are you here, Aidan?” Making no mistake about the action, you very deliberately aim the revolver at his chest and put your thumb on the hammer.

“I’m— they brought me here!” He cries, eyes widening and darting back to look at the two men who are towering over him. He hadn’t thought you would be protected like this when he broke in. “Not for you! Why would I want a whore like you?” He shakes his head, addressing Tommy and Joel. “She’s—don’t know how many men she’s fucked here, but she was in Chicago with us—my group. She spread her legs for anyone.” He lies desperately.

Carefully cocking the revolver is the sound that cuts through Aidan’s bullshit, and Tommy is staring at you in completely silent wonder as he and Joel hold tight to your attacker. “I know why you’re in Jackson, asshole. I’m asking why you’re in my basement.”

“I don’t—I didn’t—you bit—” the comment is cut off by a howl of anguish, his body jerking.

Joel has just driven his hunting knife into the meaty flesh of his thigh above his knee. “Fucking lie to her and I’ll pop your kneecap off like a pimple.”

It turns out that under the layers of fear and the layers of trauma, it’s protecting your family that is what brings out the deadliest tendencies in you. Thinking about what could have happened if Ellie or the baby were here? It snapped you out of all that terror faster than blinking. “One more time. Why are you here?”

Sobbing, Aidan isn’t nearly as powerful as he had been in Chicago. He had assumed this little town was his ticket to safety, to shelter. Until he had seen you and immediately decided that he would use you to solidify his position here in this place. He had been warned by the council that if it didn’t work out he would be taken out into the wilderness and left. “For you. You’re mine.” He tells you, looking at you with a pitiful, pleading expression. “I love you, baby. And you swore you would always love me.”

“He told you not to lie to me.” Surprising to everyone including yourself, you step forward and finally come off the bottom step to stand on the basement floor. “I don’t belong to you and I don’t love you and everybody in this room knows what you and your cronies did to me so don’t fucking lie about it.”

“I can’t go back out there.” Aidan confesses, grimacing in pain and trying not to move too much because of the knife embedded in his thigh. “I won’t— I can’t be out there. You can make it to where I can stay.”

At the idea that you would help him in any way, you actually laugh out loud. “You’re not going back out there,” you promise him with dark surety. “But that’s mostly because you’re not leaving this basement. If I don’t kill you?” You nod to Joel, knowing full well that you’re being honest. “He will.”

“You were a dead man the moment I found out who you were.” Joel growls honestly. Even if the town council had let him go, Joel would have tracked him down. Wanting to make sure that there was no way he could ever show back up in your life.

“So the only thing you get to decide is how fast you die.” With the revolver still in your hand, you raise your arm to point it at his head instead of at his chest where there is too much chance of hitting something that will only wound but not kill him. “I can do this quickly. Or I can let him tear you apart.” The nod to Joel is understood, but for some reason you can’t stomach the idea of Aidan Stokes knowing anything about your happy life. Not even Joel’s name.

Joel watches you for a moment and then lets Aidan go, straightening up and stepping back. He wont stop you if this is what you want to. It’s your right, your fucking right to end this piece of shit if you want.

“Fast or slow, Aidan?” Not that you were given a choice in how you were tortured. Or your son was given a choice in how long he lived. Not that Joel was given a choice in keeping Sarah. Not that Aidan will truly get to choose, either. You’ve already made up your mind what will happen to him.

“Babe...please.” Aidan shakes his head. “You don’t— this isn’t you. You love me.” He protests.

“It’s the person you made me.” You tell him flatly, before carefully holding the gun out to Joel. “However you want to do it,” you tell him flatly, before turning and taking Tommy’s arm to leave the basement. The truth is that you aren’t sure you could pull the trigger, even after everything you’ve been through. But you sure as hell never want him touching another living being ever again.

Joel smirks, a dark look in his eyes and Tommy swallows. He knows what Joel is capable of when he wants to be vicious. “Do you want to watch, beautiful girl?” His voice is soft. Deceptively so.

“No.” In the back of your mind you know that Joel will hold back if you are here, and that is a mercy that Aidan doesn’t deserve. “We’re going to sit upstairs. Come up when you’re done.” There will be more work to do at that point. There will be cleaning and disposal of a body you intend to spit on once it’s in the ground.

“Baby, wait.” Aidan’s panicked voice is laughing nervously. “You don’t mean that. It’s not funny, tell him you’re joking.” He begs. “Tell him you’re joking!”

You stop on the second step, the one that squeaks and now you don’t think you ever want Joel to repair it. With a drawn face and nothing but hardness in your eyes, you turn and shake your head at the man who has tortured you in so many different ways for years. “Rot in hell, Aidan.”

“Baby…baby…” his voices rises in panic and his eyes widen, scrambling to his feet and groaning at the wound in his leg. “Baby, don’t go! Don’t do this!” Joel lifts his foot and plants it in the middle of Aidan’s chest to kick him back down.

The last sounds he gets from you is the definite thumping of your heels on the ground floor and the slamming shut of the basement door followed by the click of the lock that holds it in place. Of course there is a mechanism on the other side so it can be opened by anyone downstairs as well, but it's the principle of the thing. That his fate has been sealed, and by you.

“You should leave now.” Joel tells Tommy seriously. What he’s about to do might get him in serious trouble with the town council and he doesn’t want to fuck things up for his younger brother. He’s got Maria and the baby to think about. If Joel gets kick out of Jackson, you can come with him.

Tommy doesn't say anything, but only nods and hustles up the stairs after you. He unlocks the door to let himself out into the kitchen then locks it again behind him, unsure of the state he'll find you in.

All the emotion you have is basically tied up in exhaustion, which has you leaning against the kitchen counter when Tommy appears. Whatever Joel is going to do downstairs is up to him. But whatever it is, you sincerely hope it causes the man who hurt you as much pain as absolutely possible on his way out of this life.

The sounds start almost immediately. The dull thwack of something hitting something soft, followed by a muffled cry. Repeated in a symphony of motion that could almost have a rhythm until it pauses. Followed by a low murmur and a vicious howl of agony.

“Self defense,” you murmur a few seconds later, looking up at Tommy. “He broke into our house. Joel had to act in self-defense.” The council will ask questions. You know that. But you aren’t about to let anything happen to Joel as a result of what just happened downstairs. If need be, you will stand in front of the town’s leadership and tell them exactly what he did to you in excruciating detail. They won’t argue after that.

“I’ll tell ‘em the same thing.” Tommy immediately agrees. “After all, he did break in.” He steps closer to you, a frown on his face pulling his mustache down. “How are you holdin’ up? I know— honey, I’m so goddamn sorry. I didn’t know.”

“You couldn’t have. It’s not like I showed you his picture or anything.” You’re definitely not doing well, but you’re doing better than you thought you would be with all things considered.

“I should have asked more questions.” Tommy shakes his head and is still going to blame himself. A high pitched squeal comes from the basement door and he looks over at it knowingly.

“That assumes that he would have given honest answers.” You shake your head and pour two short glasses of water, offering one to Tommy and sipping the other for yourself. The antique clock nearby reads almost one in the morning and you frown at it, shaking your head. “It’s over now. Joel is finishing the job and I can start to sleep a little bit deeper at night.”

The low moan of pain is almost animalistic, long and drawn out, is almost cut off with a wet gurgle. Tommy shifts, almost visualizing what Joel is doing to cause that sound.

“He deserves it,” you remind Tommy, who fidgets at the sounds coming from the basement. “I’m just glad Ellie is at your house. She shouldn’t have to hear any of this.”

“I know he deserves it.” Tommy nods. “I just know what Joel is doing based on the sounds.” He admits. “There was a time that we…weren’t the best people.”

“I know.” Joel has told you some of his own past. Nothing too graphic, but enough that you had a very solid idea of what he is capable of. “That’s why I know he’ll finish the job when I don’t think I could.”

“I think you would have.” Tommy argues. “You looked like you would have pulled the trigger right then when you came down those stairs.”

You nod, thinking perhaps you might really have done it right there in the beginning. But you’ll never know. “There’s no guarantee that my aim would have been good enough to kill him.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.” Tommy snorts. “It’s amazing what can happen when the people you love are threatened.” As if agreeing, another sound comes from the basement.

The clock draws your eye again, and you glance out the window up at the moon before looking back at Tommy. “It’s his birthday,” you tell him quietly. “The baby’s. He should be one today.”

Tommy bites his lip and nods, understanding that this is a bittersweet day for you. “Then it’s just that it’s today that bastard draws his last breath.”

"They always say babies look like their father, but he didn't. He looked like me." At least you could be grateful for that, if nothing else. "It's a small mercy."

“He was beautiful then.” Tommy tells you quietly, patting your shoulder and wondering if you wanted a hug. “Inside and out.”

“Thank you.” It’s enough that Tommy is kind. That you have come to know and to trust him as a brother over the last year. It’s enough that he’s here and he’s supportive. Even if being supportive just means standing with you in silence while Joel finishes what needs to be finished downstairs.

Slowly, footsteps sound on the stairs. Not a thudding, heavy trod, but weary. Stopping at the top and there’s a small knock, just one rap of a knuckle against the wood.

You make it to the door before Tommy does, flipping the lock and pulling it open to reveal Joel on the top step with more than a little blood on him.

The vicious fire is gone, extinguished from his eyes and replaced with a weary sense of peace. He doesn’t reach for you, aware that you could be repulsed by the sight of him. “It’s done.” He sighs out. “He’ll never fuckin’ bother you again.”

There is no blood on his face somehow, no remnant there of the work he’s done besides the sweat on his forehead, and you kiss him softly before stepping back. “Go wash up, love. Tommy and I will take care of things from here, and then I’ll come to bed. Is that okay?”

Joel’s eyes slide over to Tommy and he silently communicates with him. “That’s fine, beautiful girl.”

******

It’s hours later when you fulfill that promise, dragging yourself up into your bedroom in the black of night to find Joel sitting up in bed staring at the wall. “I’ll wash,” you tell him wearily, the adrenaline of fear and finality having dissipated into the night. Now you’re just bone tired.

Joel nods. “I’ll run you a bath.” He moves slowly, groaning as he gets up from the bed and shuffles towards the bathroom. His hand is broken, fractured in several places and it will be a bitch to work for the next several weeks, but he doesn’t care. As long as you are safe, he will shoulder any pain.

“I—” In the doorway of the bathroom you pause, sunken shoulders and drawn face returning you to the sad, guilty version of yourself that you so often are when thoughts or even conversation turns to the topic of your past. It hangs in the air tonight like a heavy fog. “I’m sorry. For asking you to do that. But when I got downstairs I realized that I couldn’t pull the trigger, I just…I knew that you could.”

Joel frowns when he turns from the edge of the tub, reaching for the faucet to turn it on. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” He grunts quietly, shaking his head. “Come here, beautiful girl.”

“Asking you to kill for me seems like it warrants an apology,” you point out, though you willingly let him draw you into his chest without hesitation. The whole night was meant to be relaxed and rejuvenating and it had turned into hell.

“I would kill for you a hundred more times.” Joel huffs quietly. “I was afraid.” He admits. “Afraid that you would be afraid of me after seeing the aftermath.”

“Afraid of my knight returning from battle?” You shake your head against his chest and inhale the comforting scent of clean Joel. “I owe you everything. Hell…I wanted to give you everything anyway.”

“You don’t owe me a damn thing.” Joel huffs, relaxing against you and slipping his arms around your back. You seem crave the shelter of him right now, so he won’t even ask if you are comfortable. “I love you. I—you are perfect.”

“No I’m not.” It’s not even self deprecating, but you look up at him with a serious expression, arms tight around his waist. “But as long as we’re the right kind of imperfect for each other, I’m okay with that.”

“Let me take care of you, beautiful girl.” He murmurs softly. “I’ll keep you safe. Always.”

******

The next summer is sunny and hot, giving you an excuse to wear all of the cute dresses that you had made for yourself from scraps and hand-me-downs over your time in Jackson. Today is definitely not the day for scraps, though. Today you have possibly the nicest dress you have ever made for yourself. The soft yellow fabric is embroidered with flowers that match the crown of wildflowers that Dina helped you weave for your hair, and even though your belly is now big enough to be in the way more often than not, you feel like you’ve finally earned the name that Joel has been calling you since the very first night you went to the movies together more than a year ago. Tommy is with Joel and Ellie over at your house this morning while you’re getting ready for the day with Maria and cooing over the toddler that she and Tommy have devoted all of their time and love to. It’s a very big day. One that is both a long time coming and feels like it came at you faster that lightning.

“Too goddamn old for this.” Joel grumbles, running his hand over his surprisingly smooth cheek. The barber had offered a shave to go with the haircut this morning and he had decided to just leave a mustache. Tommy snickers and his older brother stops his pacing long enough to glower at him. “I’m fucking fifty-eight years old, about to get married and have a baby.” He’s not upset, he’s nervous, afraid of fucking it up. Wanting the hard fought for happiness that seems to be everyday life now.

“Nobody told you to propose, old man,” Tommy teases, getting a fist bump from Ellie for his effort.

Joel huffs and shakes his head. “What kinda man would I be if I didn’t?” He asks. “It’s my baby.”

“That’s Dad that I hear in there.” Still, Tommy can’t judge too much — and he isn’t, not really — since he did the same thing. “We’re damn lucky to have these women and we know it. We gotta keep them close.”

“Still can’t believe it.” Once the dragon of your nightmares had been slayed in real life, you had blossomed. It was like you had still been living with the subconscious fear that Aidan would find you. Now that he had been unceremoniously burned, his ashes buried, that weight had fallen off of you and very naturally, you had eased into a physical intimacy with Joel. It happened the first time. One time inside you and he had gotten you pregnant.

"You act like you didn't know where babies come from. Or forgot." Ellie is kicked back in the living room of the house in a full suit and tie with her boots all cleaned and shined for the occasion. Since Tommy is going to be the one to actually marry you on behalf of the Town Council, she's standing up as Joel's Best Person. "Do we need to draw you a diagram, old man?"

“Listen, brat—” Joel points his finger at the teenager. “Just because you can’t get pregnant with Dina, doesn’t mean you can get cocky.” He raises a brow. “Or should I make it a rule you gotta keep your door open when she’s over?”

"You wouldn't?!" That has her drawing back immediately, wide eyed and extremely displeased with the idea of not having privacy with her girlfriend.

“Mmmmhmmm.” He chuckles and straightens back up, pleased to have made his point, even if he was only teasing. “Now I just get to worry about everything all over again.”

"You've got help this time." While he's not proud of it, Tommy knows he wasn't a hugely helpful part of raising Sarah. He'd done what he could back then but he just had no idea how to be anything besides a playmate. Now, with a young child of his own, he's prepared to be a fully functioning extra pair of hands should you and Joel need the help.

"Uncle Tommy and Big Sister Ellie." The teen plants her fists on her hips and grins. "What could possibly go wrong?"

“God help us all.” Joel huffs, even though he’s extremely pleased with the sentiment. “You think she’s ready yet?” He asks, glancing at the clock impatiently. “Damn woman wanted to wait to get married, and she’s about to pop.”

"Just as long as she doesn't go into labor at the reception," Tommy jokes, shaking his head. That had happened one of his old Army buddies way back when.

“Oh fuck.” Joel’s eyes widen at the possibility.

“Christ, Tommy,” Ellie groans, throwing a pillow at the younger Miller. “Don’t get him all freaked out.”

“Doc Sanchez is gonna be there, right?” He asks Tommy, ignoring the eye rolling. Most of the damn town is going to be at the second ever Jackson wedding, both of them ironically Millers, but he has to be sure.

“The whole ass town is going to be there.” Tommy hoists himself out of his seat to try to soothe his brother. Joel wants this, he’s just nervous as all hell. “But yes, Doc Sanchez will be there.”

“Good.” Joel blows out a breath and grins, a halfcocked thing that lights up his face and makes him look younger, softer. “Fuck, I’m getting married.”

“How you found two different women willing to put up with your shit forever, I’ll never know.” He pats his brother on the shoulder, but Tommy is grinning too. He knows how much you and Joel love each other, and how you’ve eased the stings and bruises of each other’s pasts.

“Don’t know, but I’m lucky.” Joel admits easily. You know about his past with Tess and don’t feel jealous of it, which he is grateful for.

“It’s almost time.” Ellie points at the clock on the mantle and hops to her feet, ready to snap the straps on her suspenders if she was wearing any.

The wedding is supposed to be simple, but it doesn’t feel that way. His heart is in his throat and he remembers another wedding, a lifetime ago, and he knows it will be better than that one. He never regretted being with his ex-wife, because he had Sarah, but he knows he will be a better partner, husband, and hopefully father this time around. He’s getting a second chance at life and he’s not going to take it for granted. “Let’s go get me married.”

******

The wedding was supposed to be simple, but it didn’t end up feeling that way. The flowers cut by neighbors and friends from their gardens, the food cooked and delivered from kitchens all around town, and the few musically inclined folks coming together to make a band all mean that this morning at town hall felt like the most exquisite frontier wedding you could ever ask for, and now that the reception is in full swing it’s probably the biggest party that Jackson’s seen since well before the world ended. Mr. and Mrs. Miller pronounces the hand drawn sign on the little table where you and Joel are sitting, eating your lunch and watching people move to and fro filling their plates and saying their hellos. In time you’ll start the dancing, but for now the first one to get their boogie on is the peanut you’ve been carrying around for the last eight months.

You grimace slightly and Joel is immediately turning towards you. The wedding band on his finger feels foreign but he ignores the way it catches the light as he reaches out to touch your stomach. Feeling the baby has been unlimited for him, although your days of not wanting to be touched are becoming few and far between. “Are you okay, beautiful girl?” He asks quietly, trying to alarm anyone, including himself.

“The baby’s dancing on every organ he can find,” you joke, having been certain for months now that you’re having another boy. You don’t really know how you know. You’re just completely certain.

He manages to crack a grin, something frequent that happens when he’s feeling the baby pound against his palm through your uterus. “Wants to dance, feelin’ a little left out in there.” He murmurs softly, looking up into your eyes.

“You’ve still got a little baking left to do in that oven, buddy,” you murmur, smoothing your hand over your belly and laughing when that only seems to illicit more activity. “Just let us have today, sweet boy. That’s all we ask.”

He hopes that this baby brings you the joy you had missed with your last child. He has worked tirelessly to make sure that your every need has been taken care of and you can have the least stressful pregnancy at the end of the world as possible.

“Are you happy we did this, love?” You ask, covering his hand with yours over your belly. Technically it was Joel’s idea to get married, telling you that he’s just old fashioned enough that if you were going to make a family together that he wanted you to be a family in that traditional way. You’d even gone through the trouble of making a set of formal adoption papers to say that Ellie was officially your daughter.

“Of course I am.” Even with all the nerves and worries that he holds on his shoulders, he doesn’t regret this. He knows you are safe and if something ever happens to him, Tommy and Ellie and all the citizens of Jackson will help you and protect you. “How about you, beautiful girl? You happy to be the second Mrs. Miller in town?”

“If we’re going by Victorian rules, I’m the Mrs. Miller and Maria is considered second. Perks of marrying the older brother.” It’s dumb, though, and you know it just comes from too many period dramas back in your teens. “Of course I’m happy, love. This is…honestly? It’s not the way my dreams happened when I was younger but all the boxes are perfectly checked. And you’re even better than any of the guys I imagined way back then.”

He huffs out a small laugh and wonders what kind of man you had originally thought about. “Well, I hope that it continues to be what you want. If it’s not, you give me hell and I’ll change what needs changing.”

“Same for you.” You acknowledge seriously, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “Nothing is really ever perfect, so if something needs fixing, we fix it. Together.”

“Together.” Joel nods, smiling down at the bump and then up at you. Ellie’s laughter catches his attention and he watches as the girl who had brought him to Jackson dances with Dina, beaming at her girlfriend as she holds her close. The journey to this moment had been full of anger, heartbreak, tears and loss, but right now the future for Joel and his little family looks bright.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04

N2N: @missladym1981, @orcasoul

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Joel Miller #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #ptsd #assault survivor #dead dove #do not eat #dead dove do not eat

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it-happened-one-fic · 6 months

Text

The Pleasure - Rollo (Glorious Masquerade)

Author Notes: So, I've been having a lot of fun reading Glorious Masquerade and I saw an opening and received encouragement from friends to just go ahead and write some fics for this event. So here's Rollo's and this will possibly be the only Rollo fic I ever write. The dance in this fic was inspired by the Ländler Allemande which can be seen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iuWq7S6pFvQ. The fic was written to “Tu Vas me Détruire” from Notre Dame de Paris by Daniel Lavoie. As per usual, reader is gender neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-neutral reader/ sfw/ Glorious Masquerade/ pining/ fluff/ dancing

Word Count: 1854

It was almost strange to be at a masquerade ball after everything that had just happened the night before. And everyone was just dancing away without care, as if nothing had occurred.

I glanced around at the smiling faces that made it seem like this social had gone out without a hitch when I knew all too well that it had almost ended in tragedy.

A crimson red had washed across Fleur City yet again, and yet here we were. Seemingly celebrating our survival despite the cause of it all stood right across the room from me. His arms crossed as he eyed the merry-making.

And yet, despite the fact that Rollo had put us in very real danger and was beyond hypocritical, I found that I wasn’t actually that upset with him. In fact, I almost pitied him.

He’d been so misled and driven to such mad acts, and it reminded me painfully of all the overblots I’d already experienced.

It was true. He’d been beyond wrong in what he’d done. But so had they, and I was friends with them now.

Perhaps that was why I found myself making my way across the room until I was standing quietly next to him. He glanced my way, his grey-green eyes sliding towards where I stood until his gaze at last rested on mine.

His poker face was present as always, but I had no doubt that his careful mask hid the disdain he currently felt at the merriment spread out before him.

“Looks like the social was a success…. Congratulations,” I was almost surprised that he allowed me to see the rueful smile that slipped across his face at my words. But then, I suppose he had little to hide at this point. I already knew everything.

“Yes, you and your friends must be pleased,” His typically soft voice held a distinct tinge of malice, and I frowned slightly. But I knew how he’d interpreted my words, even if that wasn’t how I meant them.

He thought I was mocking him for his failed plan. But, in actuality, my congratulations were genuine.

“I’m not mocking you. Even if your plan failed, you still managed to gather all of these students and hold a successful social.” I glanced his way, noting the bitter frown on his face even as I continued, “Your classmates said you worked really hard on all of this. I realize it was just a ruse, but it’s still impressive.”

He was silent as I finished, eyeing me closely before he let out a soft sigh, “Then you should join them. You’re friends.”

As he spoke, he gestured to the crowd of people who danced with one another. Their motions were unfamiliar and not among the courtly dances that Trein had taken the time to teach me before we came here.

I smiled slightly before shaking my head, “No… I don’t actually think I could keep up with any of them.” I laughed slightly to myself before looking back his way, fully expecting to see a mocking expression on his face but instead being met with one of quiet thoughtfulness.

“You do not know the same raucous dances?” I snorted at his words before shaking my head.

“No, I can get by fairly well, and Trein taught me some more classic, courtly styles of dancing, but nothing like what they’re doing.” I smiled fondly out at the crowd of young men, dancing intricate but fast-paced dances that I knew I could never keep up with.

“Come then,” My eyes widened at his soft voice before I looked his way, only to find him holding out his hand.

I stared at him for a brief moment in silent surprise before I felt a smile slip onto my face, “I didn’t think you would like dancing. You talked about what ‘nonsense’ it was during the Topsy-turvy festival.”

His lips twitched slightly at my words, but he tilted his head slightly, “Yes, but you are a guest here at the social I put together. It would be poor form for me to let you be left out of the celebrations for the guests.”

I glance at his outstretched hand, murmuring a quiet, “I suppose so,” before meeting his gaze once more.

“Still, I’m not the best at dancing,” I offered as a way of explanation, and his eyebrows rose. His face full of disbelief, that showed exactly how unimpressed he was with my excuse.

“You said your professor taught you some dances. Was the Ländler Allemande among them?” I nodded slowly at his question, already realizing that I was going to be dancing with him for better or worse.

Perhaps it was his petty means of revenge for me coming over here, but I slowly rested my fingers in his outstretched hand, accepting his invitation since I knew when to give up, “Yes, he did.”

He nodded, leading me out onto the floor that had, not all that long ago, been covered with firelotuses that he’d left as a trap for my friends.

I saw some of my classmates looking over curiously and almost warily to where I walked with him, hand in hand, until he raised his arm and I obediently twirled under it until we were facing each other once more.

His gaze held mine as he bowed slightly, and I bobbed in a sort of curtsey. And then we began to dance.

We walked forward with a slight swinging motion to our arms, that remained the only thing holding us together. He lifted his arm for me to twirl under once before he reached out with his other hand. And I accepted, letting him spin me so that my back was to him.

One of my arms crossed over my waist to continue holding his hand, while the other arched over my head to meet his in a sort of frame around us.

I briefly met Trein’s gaze from where our teacher sat. A slight smile on his face as I made use of his lessons and danced, not with one of the young men from NRC, but with Rollo. But I supposed this was what the social was, in form, for.

For the students of one school to get to know those of another.

And despite his entire plot that had put me in danger at the time, I truly did not feel uncomfortable at the moment, save for the stares our motions earned us.

But then, everyone else was doing far more modern dances, and here me and Rollo were, doing a courtly dance.

We circuited back around to the middle of the room and separated before reaching towards one another again, this time with our wrists crossed. Our hands found one another yet again, and our arms raised. With me spinning under the arch our arms provided first, and then him next.

His gaze held mine with an unreadable stare as we each took a step back and swung our arms apart in a graceful arc while our others, still tied together by our linked hands, lowered to keep us attached by a single hand hold.

And then we repeated the motion again. Our arms crossing elegantly over and under one another as we shifted backwards and forwards across the floor.

The dance steadily began repeating its motions until he took my hands in his and held them over my head so that I could twirl before stopping.

We stood parallel to one another, but side by side. Looking at each other as two of our interlocked hands arched in between us. Forming a sort of window that our free hands slid through to find one another again.

Almost like we were keeping a distance between us by forming a sort of wall that could still be passed through just so our hands could remain linked.

It was the part of the dance that had troubled me the most when Trein had been teaching me. I’d gotten tangled up countless times, but this time it was only easy motions.

I swallowed slightly as we spun together, his eyes remaining presently locked with mine as we slowly spiraled. Somehow, having made our way to the center of the ballroom’s floor.

And then, as easy as breathing, he spun me out, and our eye contact was broken as we made another circuit around the floor with my back to him as we promenaded our way around.

This time I saw that Grim was staring at me wide-eyed from where he’d joined Professor Trein. Like he couldn’t believe that I was dancing with Rollo, of all people.

But, to be fair, I could hardly believe it myself. I hadn’t been joking when I’d said I didn’t think Rollo liked dancing, and I certainly hadn’t expected to find myself dancing with him.

But there was no hesitation in his motions as we made our way back around with him guiding me to spin across the floor in front of him until I was the one behind him. Our hands were still gripping one another as he shifted me from one side to another in the midst of another, smaller circuit.

“For someone who doesn’t enjoy dancing, you seem to know the steps to this dance rather well,” I found my voice when my eyes briefly caught his once again as we shifted positions once more. My back once again to his chest.

He leaned around me, looking at me through our arched arms that framed us once more, “It was once an important part of one’s education to learn such dances.”

His voice matched mine in softness as we each inclined our heads towards each other before he shifted back to my other side.

“So I’m told. But you seem to have taken that quite seriously,” We each inclined our heads once more as I spoke.

We slid apart, but he kept one of my hands in his so that we were in the exact same pose we started in. Side by side, looking towards one another.

“Indeed, despite my distaste for such things, that does not lessen their importance in history,” So saying, he quietly began to walk with me back across the floor. And this time, people parted, making a path for us back to the wall we’d just been standing at earlier.

I nodded slightly as we emerged from the crowd, which continued to stare at us. No doubt a myriad of thoughts circulating through their minds.

“I see. Well, thank you for putting yourself through something you so dislike for me,” I smiled at him slightly as we both turned to look back out at the dancers, who slowly began to spiral across the floor again.

Why so many had stopped to watch us, I did not know. But I would ask Deuce about it later. Perhaps he would know.

Rollo’s voice was soft as he answered, but I caught his words nonetheless, and they caused me to look towards him in quiet surprise, even though he kept gazing out at the crowd, “The pleasure was all mine.”

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anton-luvr · 6 months

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can you do anton x gender neutral reader where they’re coworkers at a book store and when they have to pass books to each other to put away or do their duties with, they put little notes to each other and it’s sticking out and then that’s how anton asks us out

# WITH YOU.

𖦹 bf!anton x gn!reader | fluff | coworkers to lovers au

𖦹 note ; this is so cute ARGH thank u for requesting anon!!! and thank u for waiting too, i hope u like it! <3 + reqs are CLOSED !

Dealing with your boss was the most difficult part of your job.

Barely anyone came in to the local bookstore you worked at, but your boss would always insist on purchasing boxes and boxes of books that would go untouched, leaving it to you and your coworker, Anton, to unbox and shelve them.

You used to despise it, till Anton came up with a silly solution to make the task more bearable.

He would Google up the stupidest jokes and scribble them down on little Post-It notes, placing them randomly in the books.

If he was feeling extra, he'd even write down your horoscope.

It was nothing much, but it was enough to make you smile when shelving the books away.

After a while, you started to do the same for Anton. You would sketch drawings of cats, sometimes sketching famous memes to earn the melody of Anton's laughter for almost five minutes straight.

It soon became habit for the both of you, each leaving a colorful Post-It note to surprise the other on shelving day.

But for today, you don't think you'll have enough time.

Your boss had truly gone insane.

Sales were at an all time low, but he had just purchased five boxes of books. 'Need them scanned and shelved by 5pm, latest.' his text message read, followed by a simple 'okay! :)' from Anton.

You were too annoyed to reply.

"This is crazy," you sigh dramatically, resting your head on the shelf with a thud. "We're never going to finish this before five!"

Anton tuts from his seat at the counter, where he's seemingly busy scanning the books into the system. "Come on, we got this. I'll scan these up as fast as I can and come help you shelve them."

You groan, reluctantly picking up novels and sliding them into the wooden cases. "Fine." you grumble.

Now, if you had stopped being so upset about it and turned around, you'd see what Anton was really doing.

He was writing furiously on pink Post-It notes while he bit his bottom lip anxiously, heart racing a mile a minute.

Hoping you didn't notice, he grabbed some books and stuck each one of them randomly.

Nervously, he takes a deep breath.

"Y/N," he calls out, picking up the stack of books. "There's another stack here to be shelved."

You grunt a response, almost done with the literature shelf you were working on.

"Can you pass them to me? That way I can get this done faster." you asked, exasperated. Anton nods and scurries over immediately, gripping the books so hard that his knuckles were white.

But the pieces of pink paper sticking out of the books catches your attention, and an excited smile falls on your lips.

"Ooh, there's a lot of sticky notes today." you tease. "What is it this time? My horoscope or a motivational quote?"

To your surprise, Anton only shrugs, holding the books out towards you without a word.

Raising an eyebrow, you glance at your coworker suspiciously. "It better not be some sort of insult," you threaten jokingly, not knowing it was going to be quite the opposite.

The first Post-It note you come across tells you just that.

Very simply, written in black marker, was the letter 'G'.

Confused, you turn it towards Anton. "What's this?" you ask. "What does G stand for?"

Playing dumb, Anton shrugs again. "I don't know, you'll just have to keep checking them to see."

Your confusion grows as you receive more and more letters, and you stick them to the shelf for you to keep track.

The last Post-It note was a question mark, and you were just as puzzled. "I don't get it." you mumbled, holding it up for Anton to see. "Is this some kind of riddle?"

Still not talking, Anton points at where you had stuck the Post-It notes.

The moment your eyes run over the chunky alphabets, the message 'GO ON A DATE WITH ME?' rings in your head.

"Me?" you echo, facing Anton with eyes wide with surprise.

Mistaking your reaction for rejection, Anton panics.

"I-It’s fine if you don’t want to, I was just asking!" he squeaks, and he turns around to run back to the counter where he could hide in embarrassment.

But you stop him, pulling him by the arm to face you.

"Hey, I would love to." you reply softly, smiling.

"Really?" he mumbles, eyes shining with pure joy. He knew there would be a fifty percent chance of you saying yes while he planned all this, but it felt surreal to hear you actually agree to go out with him.

"Yeah," you laugh, ruffling his hair.

"Okay then!" he chirps, smiling shyly. "Do you want to go get dinner together on Saturday? Or does Sunday work better for you?"

You hum, putting another book on the shelf.

"Anytime is fine for me," you say, your cheeks warm at the newfound fact that your cute coworker was into you.

"As long as it’s with you."

#riize #riize fics #riize fluff #kpop fics #kpop fluff #riize anton #anton riize #riize x reader #riize drabbles #riize imagines

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george-weasleys-girl · 6 months

Note

smut request/ idea:

fred weasley with a really bratty, playful and smiley reader and then he's like being rlly cute with her but in a hot way idk? like she's teasing him and running around and stuff and he's playing along but then he's like okay enough and it gets kinda rough and then she goes all quiet and thennnn HE teases her? and then he's rlly caring after stuff

I hope you get the idea idekkkk? lmao

Naughty

I've not written anything quite like this before. I hope it's at least, ok-ish. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: smut, teasing, oral(male receiving), intercourse, orgasm control

18+only

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

~•~

"Oh dear, I'm such a clutz," Y/N giggled and bent over to pick up the dish soap she'd "accidentally" knocked onto the floor. Fred smirked, his eyes locked on her deliciously adorable ass sticking up in air.

She'd been teasing him ever since he got home from work. Skipping around the house in that flouncy, lavender mini dress that she knew drove him crazy, and acting like a fucking burlesque dancer, giving him a little peek and then taking it away. She turned and gave him a big, innocent grin and then bounced past him, pointedly staying just out of arms reach. Fred chuckled at her antics. He could've easily leaned forward and grabbed her. But he was enjoying the show. And he was curious to see how far she'd push him.

"Come 'ere, baby," Fred patted his lap. "Cuddle with me for a minute."

"But I need to finish the dishes," she whined.

"Just use your wand, love."

"No," she stomped her foot. "You know how I love doing the dishes the muggle way."

Fred arched an eyebrow but said nothing. He knew as well as she did, how much she hated doing the dishes without magic.

"Baby girl, come here."

"I'm almost done. Just two more minutes," she flashed him a mischievous grin. "You can wait that long, can't you?"

The corners of Fred's mouth quirked up. "I'm counting." He looked down at his watch.

Less than two minutes later, Y/N pulled the plug from the sink and dried her hands. She turned and meandered toward him, swinging her hips in a way that sent a wave of desire down his spine. He smiled up at her, patting his lap again. But at the last second, she jumped out of his reach again with a giggle and ran down the hall.

That's it.

Fred chased after her, catching up in only a few steps, wrapping his arm around her wrist and pulling her into the bedroom, pushing her onto the bed. His eyes blazed down at her, and Y/N gulped hard. "When I tell you to do something," he growled, jerking her legs open and shoving her panties to the side before slamming three fingers deep into her wet cunt. "You fucking do it. Do you understand me?"

"Y-yes, sir," Y/N gasped, eyes wide, as he finger-fucked her.

"Good," he replied and pulled his fingers out, licking them clean. "It's a shame you had to act like a little brat today. I was looking forward to feeling your tight, little pussy pulse around me." He shrugged. "Oh well, I guess you'll just have to sit there and watch me get myself off. Fred unzipped his pants and pulled his dick out, stroking it slowly.

"P-please, sir, I'm sorry. I'll be a good girl." She begged.

Fred smirked, watching her desperate cunt twitch with every stroke of his cock. "Too late, baby," he groaned, picking up the pace. "I'd love to make you fill this good, but... "

"I'm so sorry," she continued pleading. "I won't do it again, sir."

"You said that the last time."

Y/N stuck her bottom lip out. "I mean it this time."

He tilted his head, thinking. "Ok, baby girl," he said finally. "Suck my cock good enough and I might change my mind."

Without hesitation, she got on her hands and knees and crawled toward him. Fred looked down at her and smiled affectionately, his thumb caressing her cheek. "Open wide," he said and pushed his hips forward, sliding his cock past her lips until it hit the back of her throat making her gag a little. She repositioned herself and begins to bob up and down on his cock. Sometimes deep throating his entire length and other times focusing on the sensitive head.

"Fuck baby girl," he groans, fingers curling into her hair. "That feels incredible."

Y/N's pussy ached at the praise, but she didn't dare to touch herself, putting all her focus on sucking him dry. It doesn't take long before Fred's groans and grunts deepen and his balls to contract. She moved faster, knowing that any second now her mouth would be flooded with his cum. She felt his cock twitch. Almost there. Then, with a loud groan, he pushed her off. "Sir?" Y/N looked up at him, confusion clear on her face.

"I want to cum in your cunt," he said, climbing onto the bed behind her and slamming his full length into her with one savage thrust. Y/N moaned, her needy pussy clenching hard around him as he pounded into her. "Don't you dare cum until I tell you," he growled her ear, hammering even deeper.

She shook her head, barely to form words. "Yes... " she gasped, and then he changed angles, hitting her g-spot dead on, taking her breath away as she clawed at the bedsheets willing herself not to cum.

"Oh fuck," Fred groaned. He was close, and by the way she was pulsing around him, he knew she was too. "Almost there, baby. You're doing so good." It only took a few more thrusts, and he felt his orgasm surging up through his cock. "Now, baby," he groaned. "Cum NOW!" He exploded inside her, and she screamed his name as she came, her whole body shaking uncontrollably.

They both collapsed, and Fred pulled her onto his chest, even as they still worked to catch their breath. "You ok, love?" He asked.

"Mhmm," she smiled up at him. "Felt wonderful."

He kissed her forehead. "You were very naughty today. If it happens again, I might not be so lenient."

"Yes, my love," she snuggled closer to him, a small grin on her face, knowing damn good and well that he would be.

And so did he.

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @charmedfandomgal @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @whotfskai @netflix-addict @lunacurlclaw

#fred weasley #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #hp fandom #hp universe

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courtingchaos · 4 months

Text

Violence Ad Nauseam

Gator Tillman x Fem Reader

Series Master List

A/N: Would you all like some actual story to go along with the smut chapters? Finally getting into the meat of this after months of being stuck on it. This is going to feel a little out of order with the next two chapters, mainly because those were written first but this bridged a gap I had in my conflict so have at it. This is the tinder to start the bonfire (and also to show off Roy, the world’s biggest bastard). Hope you enjoy, PLEASE read the warnings everyone!

Warnings: Violence, assault (Roy hits reader), depictions of injury, descriptions of injury, talk of violence.

18+ NSFW No Minors

A quiet afternoon on account of the brothers going off for lunch leaving just you in your corner and your father in the house. You saw him through the kitchen window when you stepped out to ask Ty something. He hovers just around the sink so you know he’s cooking, rinsing off the cranberries or breaking down some bird. Wednesday nights mean Family Meetings and when you’re done out here in the garage with this new dash wiring you’ll go in and quietly help him make your mother’s linzer tart.

Between the solder you pinch to the newly stripped wires and the radio droning at the side of your head, it takes you longer than it should to realize the rest of the noise has quieted. Suddenly it isn’t just four brothers gone but the whole homestead seems to have taken off, or at least run away from the heavy footfalls that almost echo in your workspace.

“What are you working on?” Roy’s deep voice is clear without the ring of metal work in the background.

You don’t look up from your work, especially not for him. “Custom dash.”

“Is that for you?”

“You know it isn’t.”

His laugh is anything but jovial, a thin ice pick that hits your spine wrong. You finish with your wires, tucking them back into their casing, before you turn to look at him smiling at you. It’s flat and doesn’t reach his eyes, a startling match to someone else you know. “What do you need?”

“Just came to talk.”

“Father’s in the house. You can talk to him.”

“I already did.” His footsteps seem measured in the last few feet he closes between you two. Those green eyes seem to darken the longer they look down at you, his distaste for you never more apparent. You hazard a look past him towards the open, empty bays and confirm you’ve been left for the wolves.

“There’s not much I can help you with.”

“Oh I beg to differ.” Suddenly he’s reaching for a folding chair leaned up against the wall. Opening it and motioning for you to sit with a wide open palm. “Have a seat sweetheart.”

Your heart pounds in your chest hard enough to crack ribs. “I’d rather stand.”

“I’d rather you sit.” Those eyes turn hard with a glint in the florescent work lights above. “Please.” Again he gestures at the open seat and you stall just a little too long. He grabs your bicep and yanks you forward to stand in front of the chair. “Sit. Down.”

There’s no one out here now. Your phone sits on your workbench, plugged in and on silent. The radio still sings out low and the garage remains quiet like it was the dead of night. So you sit and you swallow the vitriol that rises in your throat because you know when you’re outnumbered.

Roy nods his head when you do as asked and leans back onto the thick wooden worktop, arms crossed too casually across his chest. “You’ve been doing a little research I hear.”

“I do a lot of research, you’ll have to be specific.” You stare up at him with your best poker face, trying hard to leave the disgust out of your features.

“Don’t play fucking stupid.”

“I’m not.” You blink too much as your nerves start to flood in with his sharp tone. “I’m the brains around here, remember?” Licked lips end up bitten lips and you can see him watching all of your nervous energy bleed out into the open. “If Father didn’t know then-“

“I found that P.I. you hired. The one out of Biloxi.” He watches you still suddenly. “Hm. Clearer picture now?”

You nod because you don’t trust your voice to not betray you. Roy is a pain in your ass but he’s a dangerous one, something better left alone until it decides to leave you be. You’ve poked him before with your words and your blatant disregard for his need of Gator but now he has you cornered in silence.

“He sang quite the tune when it came down to brass tacks. Showed me the file on Gator first and then little ol’ me.” He clears his throat. “What are you looking for, bookworm?”

You open your mouth but he railroads you, talks right over your explanation because he didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want to know about you looking into Gator and finding the hidden rot, the long trail of familial deceit that spanned from the gulf to the frozen plains Roy inhabited.

“You think you know it all don’t you? Think you can just do what you want because you think you’re smarter than everyone around you?” He stands to his full height, hands dropping to hang at his sides. “You’re sticking your nose in the wrong business.”

“He deserves to know.”

“Deserves to know what? That his father is running the same game down at home?” He scoffs at you. “You think he doesn’t know what kind of family he comes from?”

“He doesn’t know about you.”

“And what about me?”

You let your schooled features fall when you realize Roy thinks this is all about his money. “Does your brother know?” You feel bold when you lean into your question. “You two seem awfully close. Is that what you’re afraid of? Him finding out or you loosing money?”

There’s a dawning look on his face when he finally gets it.

“Does your brother know he raised your son or are you only keeping that secret from Gator?”

The air is heavy with every deep breath you and Roy take. He stares down at you staring defiantly up at him and the hollow chuckle from deep in his throat makes your skin crawl.

“You think he’s gonna believe you?” Roy leans down slow to get level with you, crouches in front of you with a creaking knee and violent look in his eye. Only a foot away and you hate how much you can see of Gator here; in the anger and the slope of his nose.

“I don’t lie to him.”

One thing about Roy is that he isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty. It’s a common misconception because he has a posse behind him willing to do his bidding but in the right circumstances, ones like these with no prying eyes or ears, he sticks his hands right into the muck.

He moves faster than you think someone of his age should, especially with that loud knee, but knuckles wrap into the front of your jacket before you know what’s happening. He’s stronger and taller than you and he hauls you up fast, the chair collateral that gets kicked to the wayside by his boot. Your heels drag for just a moment before your back hits the side of the car you’ve been working on hard, wind knocked out of you while Roy gets in your face.

“I don’t care what kind of shit you’ve been pullin’ with him but I don’t play fucking games.” He shifts you up the door so you’re on tiptoes and supported by just his massive fists. “You’re fucking with things you have no idea about.”

“Then why don’t you enlighten me?” It’s strained out of you with your collar twisted up. Even pinned up against a car you still feel the need to goad him, especially when he’s this worked up. “Is it just about money with you or are you afraid of being responsible for him too?”

Roy pulls away for a moment, faltering enough to let you slip down almost onto flat soles. Your laugh is shallow too when you watch Roy’s face contort into a scowl.

“I’m warning you.” His voice doesn’t waver in anger. It’s flat like the look in his eyes.

“And I’m telling you-“

You hear the crack before you fully register what’s happened. The clap of an open palm that sets your face on fire and snaps your head sideways, brain rattling around in your skull. It takes a moment before you feel the sharp pain in your jaw and realize you can’t clench your teeth. It hangs unnaturally while you slide to the floor heavily, legs tangled under you while you try to make sense of what’s happened.

“You ain’t telling me shit.” He spits down at you, confused on the floor. “Look at me.” He demands but your vision swims and the pain surges into nausea. You couldn’t turn your head even if you wanted to but all your whimpering sends Roy into a further rage. He bends down and grabs your jaw roughly, twisting you sideways to look at him all while you scream in the back of your throat. His fingers dig into the hinge of your jaw and you howl louder with the pain he inflicts.

“I have no reservations with you.” He holds your face tighter and you cry, hot tears that spill over and down your flaming cheek. “I don’t care about whatever pedestal that boy puts you on, you start nosing around in my business?” He shakes your head and the edges of your vision darken momentarily. “I’m gonna put a fucking end to it.” He drops you suddenly and you barely catch yourself from hitting cement. His legs are all you can make out of him while you try to cradle your jaw and you watch him move away from you to your bench. “You’re gonna do whatever you want because you’re too smart for your own good, right?” He shifts things around that you can’t see, sends them clattering before you notice his boots in your peripheral again. “Right?!” He yells down at you and makes you jump before you try to shake your head no. “Well don’t lie to me, darlin’.”

“I’m not.” Only it comes out slurred and half formed from your numb lips. Roy clicks his tongue at you before he crouches next to you again only this time you flinch and that makes him smile.

“Look,” he squints at you holding your face together and trying to look him in the eye with all the disgust you can muster, “go ahead and call one of your brothers.” He tosses your phone on your lap. “Tell them what happened.”

You shake your head again.

“No?” It could almost be concern that he flashes you but you know better. “Gonna keep this to yourself?”

You nod almost against your own will.

“Like your little findings too?” His voice is soft like he’s trying to calm one of his horses. It has the opposite effect on you though, that roiling nausea replaced by rage in your gut. You nod again though, tears still falling freely down your face.

“Good girl.”

If you could spit at him you would. He stands gingerly to avoid his knee popping and you watch him walk away a few feet before he turns back to you. “Now I’m gonna head back up to the house, let your father know I’m done out here.” He checks his phone before giving you one last look, gesturing at his own jaw. “Should get that checked out.”

#Gator Tillman #Gator Tillman Fic #Gator Tillman x Reader #Gator Tillman Angst #My Work #My Fic

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cevansbrat0007 · 1 year

Text

The Ache

Summary: You decide to tease Andy on FaceTime during your evening bubble bath.

Warnings: Smut, Needy Andrew Barber, Bubbles, Cursing, Light Masturbation, Phone Sex, Oral Sex (fem receiving), Thigh Slapping, Minors DNI

A/N: Request courtesy of an anonymous reader. Hope it's okay. Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

___

You slowly sink into the tub with a sigh, reveling in the feel of the warm water as it envelops your tired body. After a long day of juggling presentation after presentation for your increasingly organized boss. If you were being honest, it was starting to become a real concern. Especially now that it was affecting your ability to see your man.

To be fair, it had only been two days since you’d seen each other last. And you certainly talked every night.

But there was just something about that damned Andrew Barber. He’d managed to get under your skin in a way you hadn’t anticipated. Frankly, you could spend hours doing a deep dive trying to examine the hows and whys of it all. Or you could just accept it for how it was. You’d gone and fallen hard for the man.

And it had all happened without your fucking permission.

A smile forms on your lips, something that always happens when you think about your Andy Bear. On a whim, you reach for your phone sitting next to your wine so that you can reread the texts you two had exchanged earlier in the day. You scroll through messages, chuckling at the photo he’d sent of him supposedly languishing away at his desk with the caption “thinking of you” written underneath.

You’d been in the middle of working on updating your media calendar when his text had come through, so you hadn’t had time to respond. But now that you’re alone and buzzing from your last glass of wine…

You open the camera app and flip the screen so that you can snap a picture of your knees peeking out from beneath the bubbles. You allow your thumb to hover over the button for a fraction of a second before finally hitting send, only to follow it up with the words: thinking of you too.

And then you wait, biding your time as you take a sip of your drink. You hadn’t really done much sexting in the past, having always preferred to play it safe. But you also felt like you could trust Andy with this part of you.

Besides, it was just your knees along with a hint of thigh. Not exactly material for revenge porn, you know?

You jump when your phone begins vibrating in your hand. Of course it’s Andy…and he apparently wants to FaceTime. Oh God! Squealing softly, you briefly debate whether or not you should answer even as you swipe accept.

“Hey, baby girl.” Andy purrs. “I was just thinking about you.”

Just to recap, you were currently sitting naked in the tub, mid-bubble bath, on a FaceTime call with your boyfriend. No big deal, right? Not really. Except that you had never done anything like this before. And certainly not with him!

“Why you got me facing the ceiling? I’d much rather be looking at you, gorgeous. Especially after you sent me such a pretty picture.”

“Hi, honey.” You whisper. Sitting up a little straighter, you adjust the angle of your phone so that he’s looking at your face instead.

“There you are.” He smiles and takes a sip of his beer.

“Yep…here I am.” This whole situation has you understandably nervous, and more than a little turned on. You felt so…naughty like this; talking to your man while enjoying a deliciously warm bubble bath. “What are you up to?” Your free hand snakes out to grab your glass of merlot.

“I think a better question is…what are you up to?” Andy winks at you then, catching his bottom lip between his perfect teeth as he leans into the camera. Almost as if he’s trying to get a better view of you in all of your sudsy glory.

“Mm…just relaxing with the help of some wine and a little music...”

“And a nice, hot bubble bath, huh?” Your man eagerly finishes for you. “Can’t go and leave out the best part.”

Ooh, here we go. You think as a delicate blush creeps its way across your cheeks.

“Mmhm. Gotta do something to relieve all this tension.” You playfully crinkle your nose as the words come tumbling past your lips. “Especially since someone isn’t around to take care of it for me.”

“Now that’s just – ugh! Baby, you’re not even playing fair.” He grumbles, scrubbing a hand over his chiseled jaw. “Let me see you.”

“I’m right here.” Instead of complying, you toss him a little wave. Paying special attention to the way his eyes darken as he watches the water drip from your fingers.

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?” Feeling bashful, you look away from the screen. And then you flip it, gifting him with a glimpse of your newly polished toes. “How’s that? You like the color?”

“Love it. Now let me see the rest of you.” Andy growls low in his throat, his voice pitched to arouse.

“I think you’ve seen enough, Andrew. Now, tell me about your day.” You try to sound serious, but it’s hard when he’s looking at you like…well, like that.

Like he’s going to spontaneously combust any second if you don’t give him what he wants.

“It just got a hundred times better five minutes ago.” You roll your eyes, silently letting him know that that was so not what you meant.

“Fine.” He grunts, looking every bit as impatient as he sounds. “I drank too much coffee this morning. The chili dog I had for lunch gave me heartburn. And now my dick is hard as diamond watching you splash around in the tub like a fucking mermaid, while I'm stuck here on my couch halfway across town.” He takes a deep pull from the bottle in his hand. “That descriptive enough for you, sweetness?”

“Not bad.” You offer up a delicate shrug. “I give it a solid seven out of ten.”

“C’mon…” Andy groans, dragging his long fingers through his already tousled brown locks. “Swear you’ve got me dying over here. Lemme see you.”

Heaving a playful sigh, you finally decide to give him what he wants. Not much, mind you. Just a little somethin’ to tide him over until you saw each other next. Which would hopefully be tomorrow.

You angle the camera down, allowing him a brief glimpse of your bare breasts. Giggling, you lightly splash the water onto your chest, loving the strangled moan that rumbles from somewhere deep in his throat.

“Like what you see, Big Man?” You purr as you slowly slide your wet fingers down your body, past your navel, and into the water below. A whimper escapes as you stroke between your folds, gently parting your lips to caress the swollen bundle of nerves currently begging for your attention.

“That’s right, baby.” Your boyfriend rasps as he leans in for an even better view. “Touch yourself for me. Pretend it's me playing with that sweet pussy.”

“But you’re n-not.” You tell him as your hips begin to rock, sending water sluicing this way and that. “Doesn’t feel as good as - as…” Your words trail off as you swirl the soft pads of your fingers over your needy clit, trying your best to soothe the growing ache. “Ooh…”

“I know, baby. I know. But don’t stop…” Off screen, you hear the distinct click of a belt buckle, followed by the quiet undoing of a zipper. “Not yet.”

Biting your lip, you give him a small shake of your head before removing your fingers and sucking them into your mouth. “Mmm…so good.” You tell him, noting the way Andy’s blue eyes simmer with desire and a hint of jealousy.

“You taste divine, baby. But I don’t recall giving you permission to stop yet.” Comes Andy’s husky growl, his tone filled with unbridled need.

“But I’m done. And the water’s getting cold so…” You raise a hand to toy with the messy bun adorning the top of your head, lightly twirling the kinky curly strands. “Guess it’s time to say goodnight.”

“Now hang on a sec, sweet girl –” Andy pleads.

“Sweet Dreams, Andrew.” You tell him with a saucy wink. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Don’t you dare –” You end the call before he can finish before setting aside to finish your bath. After reheating the water, you take your time to exfoliate using your favorite body scrub, all the while still grinning like a fiend.

You knew that you shouldn’t have teased your poor Andy Bear like that. But you couldn’t bring yourself to feel too bad. You’d be sure to make it all better whenever you saw him next. Which would hopefully be sooner rather than later.

___

Two hours later…

“Fuck!” You hiss before rolling over and punching your pillow for what had to be the umpteenth time. You’d been tossing and turning for easily over an hour, but try as you might you just could not fall asleep. “Hate this shit.” Frustrated, you flop onto your back and stare at ceiling.

Yeah, you’d tried to make some magic happen after you’d finished getting ready for bed, but you just couldn’t seem to get yourself there. But it certainly hadn't been for lack of trying. And then when you’d gone to bust out the big guns, your favorite vibrator had decided to die on you approximately thirty seconds after turning it on.

You had even briefly entertained the idea of calling Andy again. Deep down, you knew he would take pity on you, even after your little stunt back there in the bath.

But he would definitely make you work for it.

Of course he had tried to call you again after you’d hung up on him – twice, actually. And while you hadn’t answered, you may or may not have shot him another picture of yourself wearing a bikini top made out of bubbles.

All you’d received in return was a simple text calling you a little fucking brat.

So, you’d messaged him another photo. This time of you blowing him a kiss. Which also happened to consist of bubbles. Had to keep with the theme, you know?

If you were being honest, and you were, you’d brought this on yourself. And now you were being made to suffer. Meanwhile, your sweet Andy Bear was probably at home fast asleep dreaming of...

Your thoughts are interrupted by what sounds like a knock at your front door. Sitting up, you spare a glance at the clock, revealing that it was well after 1:00am. Who the fuck could that be at this hour?

You hear the knock again as you climb out of bed and scamper into the hall, hurriedly throwing on your silk robe as you go. Rising on your tiptoes, you go to peek out the peephole. Only to be surprised when you see your boyfriend standing on the other side.

“C’mon, baby girl.” Andy mutters to himself as he prepares to knock once more. “Open up already.” Confused, you make quick work of undoing the locks before wrenching open the door.

“Andrew…it’s the middle of the night.” You breathe, drinking in every inch of his sexily rumbled form. “Is – is everything okay?”

“No.” He grunts, his tone gruff as he rakes both hands through his hair. “Couldn’t fucking sleep.”

Andy pushes his way inside your apartment, forcing you to take several steps back. “Every time I closed my eyes, I had this fucking vision of you all wet and covered in those damned bubbles.” He kicks the door shut before reaching behind him to click the lock into place.

Appearing every inch the predator, Andy slowly advances on you, backing you into a nearby wall. “Kept fuckin’ teasing me. Couldn’t get you outta my head.” He pins you against the cool surface, holding you hostage as his brawny arms come to rest on either side of your head.

“Look what you did to me, baby…” His head dips as his mouth crashes down on yours, making you whimper. His tongue sweeps past your lips as he buries his big hands in your hair, his fingers deftly massaging your scalp before removing the tie and freeing the wild strands.

“Oh God...” You moan into the kiss, arching your back as he dominates your body with each demanding flick of his tongue, each sinful nip of his sharp teeth. “Andy, I – fuck!”

He picks you up by your ass, walking you further down the hall and into your living room. Hot, wet kisses rain their way down your throat as he begins to fight with your clothes – tearing off your robe and casting it to the side. It catches the edge of a lamp, sending it crashing to the floor.

Not that you care. Your man’s got you so wound up that you barely even flinch at the sound of it shattering into pieces.

“I’ll buy you another one.” Andy growls as you both tumble on the couch in a flurry of tangled limbs.

“Who gives a fuck?” You hiss, tugging at the lobe of his ear with your teeth as you go to remove your cami, accidentally hitting him in the face with it.

“I need you, baby girl.” He rasps against your throat, sucking on the tender flesh. “So bad that I fuckin’ ache.” He presses your hand to the impressive outline of his cock. You squeeze him through the thin fabric of his sweats, loving the thick feel of him as he grinds against your palm. And then he pulls away, eliciting a small whine from you.

Standing, he seductively peels the shirt from his body. Your mouth waters as the glow of the moonlight washes over him, drawing your attention to his taut, defined abs.

“Need you to fix it, baby.” Andy purrs after he kicks his pants aside. His head tips back as he fists a hand around his girth, slowly pumping up and down. “Fix me.” Groaning, he increases the speed of his strokes.

His lust-filled eyes find yours, watching your fingers as they skim beneath your cotton boyshorts to play with your pulsing clit. “Please?” He murmurs, his soft plea filling the room as he towers over you – his hard cock level with your hungry gaze.

“Yes, Andy.” You nod, swallowing thickly. “I - I’ll fix it.” He sinks to his knees in front of you, his slightly calloused palms coming to rest on your thighs. “However you need me to."

“Thank you, sweet girl. Thank you.” Your man presses an open mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin just behind your knee. “Always so good to me.” He settles in, draping your leg over his shoulder.

“What are you –?” You gasp, your small hands gripping his head as his luscious mouth descends towards your pussy. Pulling your panties to the side, he buries his face between your thighs, nuzzling the sensitive nub with his nose.

“Oh yeah.” He growls as he does it again before gently lashing at your bud with his eager tongue. “Can feel myself getting better already.”

“I thought you wanted me to – to…ungh!” You cry out when he smacks your hip. Once. Twice. You knew without a doubt that you were going to be covered in his marks by the night’s end.

“You promised to help me however I needed.” Andy hums as he continues to feast on your most intimate flesh, his beard scraping against your inner thigh. “So shut up and take it.” His tone comes out gruff, even though he’s clearly reveling in every sweet, breathy moan and whine that leaves your lips.

Instead of ripping your panties in two like he normally would, your Andy Bear forces you to hold them to the side so he can concentrate on the meal you’ve so generously set before him.

“You’ve got a lot of healing to do, baby girl.” Two thick, talented fingers find their way inside you, searching for that special spot that was guaranteed to drive you wild. You feel your hips buck on their own accord as your toes start to curl. “Hope you’re ready for a long night.”

Andy sucks your clit into his mouth, shaking his head as his fingers continue to pump in and out of you. You thrash against his hold as you feel the coil in your belly tighten as it threatens to snap, sending you plummeting over the edge into bliss.

“Because we’re only just getting started.”

END

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blooming-violets · 6 months

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Trick-Or-Treat (part two) || TASM

Summary: Another Halloween, another year gone by, and more Claire and Benjy to keep Peter entertained. There's never a dull moment in the Parker household. It's a very short read and simple and cute. (read last years Halloween fic here)

A/N: It's been a while since I've written anything. I'll dip my toes in and see how it feels by starting with the cute twins in Peter's life. Special thanks to @tarzinnia for bringing back last years Halloween fic and inspiring me to attempt writing again. Happy Halloween, bitches!

Spider-Man.

That’s what Claire insisted on being for Halloween. Peter couldn’t help but be proud of her choices.

“I don’t think there’s a better costume out there,” he boasted to you late one evening. He was sitting at the kitchen table, happily sewing a handmade Spider suit for his daughter.

“Don’t tell that to Benjy,” you replied. “He’ll be heartbroken to hear you think his Buzz Lightyear costume is subpar.”

Peter huffed, “Store bought will always be subpar. He wouldn’t even let me hand make it for him.”

“You didn’t see him when we walked by it at the store. He fell in love. He looked up at me with those big brown eyes and I couldn’t say no to that face. He adores that costume. You’re just playing favorites because Claire chose Spider-Man.”

Peter smirked, “The kid has great taste, what can I say?”

You ruffled your husband's mop of messy hair and chuckled, “Just wait until she starts telling people she’s dressed as her dad for Halloween. That smile will be wiped right off your smug face. There’s no faster way to lose your secret identity than to have children. They can’t keep anything secret.” You passed him a red tutu to sew around the waist of the costume. Claire might want to dress like her father’s alternate identity but she still wanted to have the princess vibes she loved. “I think you should add a tutu to your suit. You’d look fabulous.”

Peter laughed, “I really would, wouldn’t I?”

“I’ve got to go to bed. The twins drained all my energy today. Please don’t stay up too late working on the costume. You still have plenty of time to get it done.”

He lifted up his head for a kiss, “I’ll follow you shortly. Just a few more finishing touches…”

Claire’s eyes lit up when she saw her costume. Peter had successfully added the skirt and bedazzled the entire thing to create a sparkling, princess version of Spider-Man.

“It’s perfect!” She shouted with excitement. “I’m going to look just like you daddy!”

“Is this what I look like in your eyes? Full of sparkles and absolutely spooktacular?” He held the costume up to her small frame to admire his work.

“Let’s get you kids dressed! It’s almost time to leave,” you shouted as you bustled into the living room holding Benjy’s costume and a pile of clothes. “Put some warm clothes on Claire under her suit, please, Peter.” You tossed him her thermal sweater and pants. “It’s going to drop down to the 40’s tonight and I don’t want them to catch a cold.”

You quickly got Benjy into his warm clothes and tugged on his Buzz Lightyear suit while Peter dressed Claire.

“Are we going to see Auntie May tonight?” Benjy asked. It was no surprise. He asked this just about every single night in the hopes that he’d get to see his favorite person. Tonight was his lucky night.

You gave him a wink, “She texted me a moment ago and told me she was on her way over.”

Benjy jumped excitedly around the room before running straight to the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her walking up to the apartment building, so he could alert the entire family of her arrival.

You turned around to get a good look at Claire as Peter finished carefully zipping her in. He stood up to marvel at his creation. Tears of love and joy brimmed in his eyes which he quickly tried to wipe away before anyone noticed but you caught them. His love for his children often brought him to tears. You wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled into his side.

“You did good,” you whispered to him. “She looks great.”

“I know everyone says they have the cutest kids but they’re all wrong. Ours win. It’s a good thing they inherited mostly your genes so they could end up this adorable. If they got mine, they might end up looking like haggard monsters,” he joked.

“Oh, shut up. Benjy is the spitting image of you and he’s the most precious, perfect boy I’ve ever seen.”

Peter turned to wrap you against his chest. He placed a warm kiss against the top of your head, “We make cute kids. Maybe we should make some more some time soon.” You quietly gasped under your breath, “Peter Parker. Are you implying what I think you are?”

A sneaky smile tugged at the corner of his lips, “Maybe. The twins are going to start kindergarten next year. They’ll be full time at school. It sounds like a perfect time to bring a new little bug into our lives.”

“I-” you weren’t sure what to say. “We’d need a bigger place. Three kids in one apartment is not going to work for us. We have been saving up for a house, though…I mean, if we move to the suburbs, you’d have to commute with Spider-Man…my job is done remotely so that won’t matter but you’d have to go back and forth into the city. I was looking into some nice school districts. We’d have to adjust our budget a bit. It could be doable…”

“Is that a yes?” He asked, cutting through your attempts to mentally plan your entire future.

You smiled, “It’s a yes.”

Peter scooped you up into his arms and spun around with a joyful laugh, “We’re going to have another baby!”

“Alright, alright, put me down! Nothing is set in stone, yet. Let’s try to get through Halloween first.” You took a step away from your husband and glanced around the room.

Benjy was still patiently waiting at the window for any glimpse of May. Claire was nowhere to be found.

“Claire?” You called out. “Where’d you run off too? Auntie May will be here soon. We’re going to leave in a minute to Trick or Treat.”

You walked down the hall and peeked into the bathroom. Nothing. You poked your head into the twins shared bedroom. Nothing.

“Claire?” You called out again.

“In here!” She shouted from inside your bedroom.

You pushed open the door and your jaw dropped at the sight occurring before your horrified eyes.

“Look, momma!” Claire sang. “I’m daddy!”

Your daughter, in her sparkling Spider suit, was stuck halfway up the wall. She crawled up to the ceiling with nothing but her finger tips and the toes of her red converse.

“Peter!” You shouted, not able to take your eyes off her. As she reached the ceiling, she smoothly made the upside down transition until she was crawling directly over your head.

Peter showed up at your side. It took him a second to find the source of your stunned silence. When his eyes slowly looked up, his mouth fell open to mimic your own.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

“That’s a bad word, daddy!” Claire chastised him from above his head. “Catch me!”

Without a word, Peter snatched her from the air as she gracefully unstuck herself from the ceiling. She giggled at the action as if crawling up walls and leaping into her father’s arms from above was an everyday occurrence for her.

“I’m Spider-Man just like you,” she hummed happily, not old enough to fully grasp the weight of what she was saying or what she’d just done.

You and Peter exchanged terrified looks with each other. A shocked silence had stolen any attempts at forming words from your mouths as you both desperately tried to comprehend what you’d just witnessed.

“Uh huh…yeah, sweetie…just like me…” Peter managed to squeak out.

“Auntie May’s here!” Benjy squealed from the other room.

Claire squirmed out of her father’s protectful grasp to run towards her brother, both brimming with excitement to let May into their home.

Neither you nor Peter could move.

“Did that just…” your question trailed off.

Peter nodded, “Yeah. Yes, it did.”

You took a long, shuddered breath, “Okay. That’s okay. That’s fine. Everything is fine. We just…have…a daughter with abilities…no big deal…not a problem at all…everything is great…”

Peter tugged you to his side, sensing you were about to start spiraling if he didn’t put a stop to it, “It is fine. I’ve been through this before. I can handle this again. She seems like she’s handling this better than I was at 16. She’s a natural at it! It’s totally, 100% fine and not at all terrifying.” Peter was always a terrible liar. “It appears she may have inherited more of my genes than I initially thought and that is okay. She’s really embodying the spirit of that Halloween costume isn’t she?” He gave a breathless chuckle.

You shot him a stern look at his poor attempt at a joke, “Seriously?”

He shrugged with a guilty expression etched onto his face, “They don’t write a parents handbook for this kind of thing.”

“Our preschooler can crawl up walls! Her teachers are going to hate us, oh god. What are we going to do?”

The buzzer rang, alerting everyone of May’s presence at the door.

Peter glanced towards the sound, “Right now, we are going to let May in and then we are going to take the kids out Trick or Treating. We are going to have a fun night watching them run around and collect candy. They are going to be kids and enjoy their Halloween. Then we will come home, let them go crazy with sugar, then attempt to get them to bed. Afterwards, you and I will start on our endeavor to make baby number three. And then…tomorrow, we can figure this out more. But, tonight, tonight is for us.”

You gave a slow nod, allowing his words to comfort you, repeating his mantra, “Tonight is for us. Tomorrow is for worrying.”

Peter gave you a warm smile and a quick kiss, “Worry tomorrow, have fun tonight. This a problem for future us. Present us needs to only worry about how much candy we can fit into those kids’ pumpkin buckets.”

A smile grew over your face as some of the fear dissipated. Not all of it. You were always going to fear for the future of your children but Peter was always going to be there to help smooth out those worries.

“If it’s Trick or Treat, Claire definitely chose ‘trick’ this year.”

Peter laughed, “And Benjy will always choose ‘treat’. That will be one thing that never changes. The boy loves chocolate! Let’s go let May in before the kids break down the door. Come on, my son needs sugar and my daughter needs an exorcism. A perfect Halloween combination!”

The End :)

#the amazing spiderman #tasm #tasm fic #peter parker #peter parker fic #tasm peter #tasm peter fic #spiderman #spiderman fic #andrew garfield #trick or treat part two #tasm x reader #peter parker x reader

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kyberblade · 8 months

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Back To You (Din x Reader) - Part 19

A/N: Well, it’s here. You all voted, and it’s one monolithic chapter. I can’t believe we’re here. 😭 We still have so much coming up for these guys, but this first part is done and it’s been a year and I have EMOTIONS!!!! 😮‍💨🥺 Thank you all for everything. It’s been an honor to go on this journey with all of you, and I can’t wait for all the rest of the stories this little clan has coming up! We just have nostalgia in this one, throwbacks, badassery, lots of feelings and fun…. It’s a good time for all. I’ve had this final scene written since almost day one. I’m so excited it’s finally here. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it! There will still be an epilogue for this story, too, so we’re not totally done, yet. (Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.)

(This takes place right where the other one left off and goes to the end of episode 2x8/16, The Rescue.)

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Swearing. Space swearing. Grogu is a menace. Arguing? Mando’a. Show dialogue, so spoilers? (But if you’re here, you know how this works.) Lots of angst. Tears. Brief mention of injury. Reader is having a Tough Time™️ mentally, but it’s discussed and processed. The F-word but it’s in Mando’a so does it really count?

Word count: 21,386 (I said what I said.)

As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

And for @fordo-kixed-rex, you deserve so much more than a shoutout for reading all 75 million iterations of this massive chapter from start to finish, and helping me in between. You’re a real one, friend. This series would not have gotten this far without you.

And @deceiver-of-gods for helping me with the Mando’a!

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

Xxx

You woke to the ship swinging wildly side to side, the sound of blaster fire filling every space of the vacant cargo hold. Din was no longer behind you, just the cold lonely steel of Boba’s ship, but there was something wadded up underneath your head as a makeshift pillow. It was soft, and smelled of your Mandalorian. Lifting your head, blinking blearily against the soft lights of the deck, you looked around, catching the fabric of Din’s cowl as it fell from behind your head and down into your lap.

“What’s going on?”

Fennec helped you to your feet, both of you stumbling slightly to the left as the ship tilted at a precarious angle, her hand holding on to you even after you were up to help both of you maintain your balance. Din’s cowl was still clutched tightly in your other hand.

“Found Doctor Pershing. He’s on an Imperial transport, we’re attempting to enter negotiations for his release.” She smiled wryly. “They aren’t going so well.”

The ship turned sharply to the right, causing you and Fennec to release one another. She gripped the bottom of a nearby seat to avoid flying across the deck, but your hands were full with the cowl, and you went sliding across the deck on your side from the steep angle.

Cara attempted to grab you as you slid by where she too was gripping a nearby seat, grabbing on to the fabric of the cowl for a brief second before it slipped through her fingers. “It’s just as elusive as the man who wears it,” she grumbled, making you grin despite the situation.

The ship finally started to even out slightly, enough that you weren’t sliding, but your feet still propelled you forward from the dangerous angle. “The old man flies like a-”

Din caught your hand before you could go any further, pulling you into him where he was against the wall, hanging on to a cargo net.

You looked up at him, breathing heavily after stumbling for your life across the deck. “Well, he flies like you.”

Din grunted at the slight, making you grin. “Thanks, shiny.”

He only nodded once, his grip on your upper arm adjusting slightly.

“Oh!” Reaching up, you attached his cowl back around his shoulders. “And thanks for that, too.”

He nodded again. “You always complain about needing your Mandalorian pillow, so I figured it was the next best thing.”

Fennec snorted in amusement at the same time Cara moaned an, “Ew, guys!”

The ship entered a roll, all of you clinging to something and muttering curses. Once it leveled back out, you glared at the hatch that led to the cockpit. “I’ll be right back.”

“What are you doing? Mesh’la?” Din tried to reach after you, but you ignored him, climbing the ladder and stepping into the cockpit once the doors slid open.

“Hey. Flyboy.”

“I’m busy, ad’ika,” Boba said through gritted teeth, his modulator making the words sound even thinner as he pulled the trigger yet again, the shots whizzing past the transport in front of him.

“You missed.”

If he was a clone, and they were the troopers…. Who were always dismal shots…. You grinned.

“So is that just something in the clone/trooper genetics? Missing things by a mile?”

“It was a warning shot,” he grumbled, turning his visor your way ever so slightly before turning back to the viewport. “And troopers aren’t clones anymore. If they were, we’d all be in trouble.”

The grin pulled higher up the side of your face. “I see.” Arms crossing over your chest, you took a step closer to him. “Well warn them faster, grandpa, you’re nearly murdering your crew with these maneuvers. You didn’t give us any warning.”

“Have to strap you all down like ade,” he mumbled, chuckling softly as he shook his head, probably picturing it. (“Children.”)

Reaching forward, you flipped a switch on the console, sending a blast from his ion cannons right into the rear of the transport, making it go dead on impact.

Leaning down so your head was beside the bounty hunter’s, you smirked. “That was my warning shot.”

Grumbling something unintelligible under his breath, Boba leaned in and pressed the button for comms. “Lower your shields, disengage all transponders, prepare for boarding.”

The ship rose slowly in front of the transport, the pilot, copilot, and Doctor Pershing all watching it rise through the viewport with a gradual tilt of their heads further and further back until they were out of sight.

Boba hovered over the hatch, pressing a few buttons on the console as he mumbled, “Easy as….” A loud thud accompanied by a violent jerk caused you to stumble through the cockpit, grabbing the back of his chair for stability.

With a huff, you turned your head to glare at the side of his visor. “You were saying?”

“I never finished the sentence. Maybe I was going to say it was something complicated.”

“Osi'kyr,” you grumbled, pushing off of his chair. “Would be easier to pet a nexu.” (Strong exclamation of dismay.)

“I’ve actually pet a nexu once,” Boba mused, flicking a switch before leaning back in his chair.

“Of course you have.” You didn’t bother turning back to face him as you left the cockpit to rejoin the others. A small smile turned up your features at the sound of his laugh behind you.

Xxx

Sitting on the deck of Boba’s ship, your mind began to wander. Staying upbeat and engaged was easy…. For a time. Until you really let your thoughts go down the roads they wanted to, with memories of the kid playing on a loop, especially the one of him being taken from practically right out of your hands.

Within just a few steps, from the bottom of the ladder to the cockpit to the seat you were perched on in the middle of the deck, a dark cloud had taken over your mind, and you didn’t feel like fighting it right now.

You hung back while Din and Cara boarded the Imperial transport to get Doctor Pershing. The whole thing took less than two minutes, but from your seat, you could hear the entire exchange. Fennec watched you closely from her seat across the aisle from you.

“What?” You asked her after a moment of loaded staring.

“Nothing,” she shook her head with a shrug. “You’ve just been quiet the last few days is all.”

“Compared to what? I only met you a few days ago.”

A blaster shot fired, and a body thudded to the floor, causing both you and Fennec to lean slightly to peer through the opening to see what was going on. She leaned forward while you leaned back. But a quick glance at the opening showed both of your friends still standing firmly with their weapons drawn, so you assumed it was one of the Imps turning on the other.

Cowards.

Both of you sitting back how you had been, you turned your attention back on one another as if nothing had happened.

Fennec went on as if simply talking about the weather. “True. But before everything with the kid went down, you seemed….”

Brows knit, one arching in question, you bobbed your head at her to continue. “Go on….”

“Better.”

You huffed, shaking your head as you looked at the ground. “I’m fine.”

“Alright.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you looked up at her again, peering up through your lashes. It felt safer than looking straight at her. “I’m on a strange ship with strangers and everything is-”

“Strange?”

Lifting your head to look at her straight on, your face fell flat. “Different.” You glared. “A member of my clan was taken. It’s not the same as missing someone, it’s more like a piece of yourself is gone.”

“I understand,” she offered softly. “I just don’t want you to slip away in the process.”

“Slip away?”

She sighed, looking down at the floor. “Sometimes….” Her gaze pulled back up to meet yours confidently, something softening once your eyes met again. “Sometimes when we let something consume us - grief, loss, a goal - it’s easy to get buried in all the things you let slide along the way.”

You felt the clouds begin to break, a ray of sunshine beginning to shine through. “What…. What have I let slide?”

She looked off to the side, as if the words she needed were hidden somewhere in the cargo hold. “Honestly?” She met your eyes. “Yourself.”

“It was my fault-”

“It happened.” Leaning forward, she left no room for question as she put a hand on your upper arm. “All that matters now is how you fix it.”

Suddenly a blaster shot fired, another body thudded to the ground, and a man started yelping in pain. Turning toward the opening where the ship was docked to the transport, you stood up and took a few steps closer, nearly running into Cara as she stomped past you.

“That was my warning shot,” she mumbled, stuffing her blaster into its holster on her hip.

Looking back at the opening, you saw Din staring after her in concern, his shoulders rising and falling in a heavy sigh as he watched his friends fall a little further apart.

Rushing into the transport, you put your hands on the shoulders of the man, startling him.

He tried to back away from you, looking up with wide eyes, but you held him in place firmly.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re Doctor Pershing, right?”

He nodded, wincing at the motion and cradling his right ear.

“Mind if I take a look?”

Slowly lowering his hand, he gently shook his head, turning slightly to offer you a better angle. “Your angry friend shot my captor- something I’m grateful for, don’t get me wrong- just…. It was a bit close to my ear.”

“It ruptured your eardrum, didn’t it?”

He nodded hesitantly. “Some bacta should help. If we get to it soon.”

You smiled. “I have something better than bacta.”

“Wha-”

Reaching out, you placed your hand over his ear, making him wince and try to pull away from you. Holding him in place with your other hand on his shoulder, you took a deep breath, doing what you had done for Din back on Morak, and mending his injury. “Sorry about my friend. She can get a little hot headed. I’m sure she’ll apologize in a little bit, but for now….” You pulled your hand away, lowering your voice since he could now hear again out of that side, “I’ll just have to do. There. All better.”

His mouth opened and closed a few times, an attempt at words but only a croak coming out in disbelief. Finally he was able to mutter, “How?”

You’d almost expected him to ask why, but as he asked how instead, you understood. He may have studied the workings of the Force, and understood it on a molecular level, but that didn’t mean he truly knew its capabilities. Plus, he’d only ever been exposed to a truly dark and twisted side of things, one that was selfish and manipulative. That side would never reach out and heal just for the sake of it. They’d reach out a hand just to strike you further down. Or make sure you stayed there.

“Friends take care of each other. I’d call us friends, wouldn’t you?” He nodded hesitantly, eyes darting to the Mandalorian hovering behind you before coming back to you. “And you’re going to help us find the kid, aren’t you?” He nodded again, making you smile a bit broader. “That’s it then. We help you, you help us.”

You got to your feet, standing beside Din, and helping Pershing to his feet. Once he was standing, though, you didn’t let go of his hand, making sure he met your gaze as you held his hand a bit too tight. “But if anything goes wrong…. I can’t make any promises about my friend out there. As you’ve already seen, she’s a bit of a loose canon. Can’t really tell what she’ll do if she gets upset.”

Eyes wide, Pershing nodded in understanding, eyes flitting between you and Din rapidly, then darted where Cara had disappeared before landing back on you. “Understood.”

Xxx

Fennec’s talk had caused the clouds to break, but your mind was still overcast and dreary; thoughts dark and dismal pulling you into another spiral you were fighting hard to stay on the edge of, and not get sucked down under. So far you’d kept your head above water, but with every kick to tread and stay up, you were getting more and more tired.

Staring out one of the side viewports of Boba’s ship, you watched the stars crawl lazily by, as your arms crossed over your chest held you tight. The soft clink of beskar clad steps came up behind you, the looming hover of the cool metal just out of reach as he stood a mere breath away brought a soothing wash over your skin.

“You’re not going to say anything?” You mumbled after a long moment of silence.

“Mmm-mmm,” he hummed, the gentle shake of his head causing the fabric of his cowl to brush the back of your head.

“Thank you.” A deep breath. “Why not?”

“Do you want me to?”

You shrugged. “Not particularly.” You smirked at his huff of laughter. “Everyone else has, though. Including you. Just figured we’d come full circle and it was your turn again.”

He shrugged this time, the motion jostling him a bit closer, just enough that he was barely touching you. “You’re going to feel what you feel. I can’t change that by telling you over and over that I think it's wrong.”

“But you do?”

He sighed. “Mesh’la….” He closed the last breath of distance between you, pressing his chest along your spine. “I’ve said my piece. You know how I feel, what I think. Me beating you over the head with it like Peli adjusting something on the Crest isn’t gonna change anything.” His modulator lowered down beside your ear. “All I can do is stay here and keep fighting alongside you, hopefully beating whatever is winning in that head of yours…. Because it’s wrong. And I hate what it’s doing to you.”

You smiled to yourself. “It’s just me up here.”

“That’s not the full you. That’s the broken you. I know because….” He sighed. “Because I’m a little bit broken, too.”

The silence sat comfortably between you for a long moment. When you finally spoke again, your voice was soft, but felt harsh in the new quiet you’d found.

“How are you not falling apart?”

“Who says I’m not?” He didn’t miss a beat.

You let out a snort, a sardonic chuckle chasing after it as you shook your head gently. “That’s not fair, you have armor to hold you together.”

“It’s not the armor.” His voice was quiet, but he spoke with a conviction that made your breath catch in your chest.

Your conversation from back on Coruscant came back to you.

“I’m sorry I scared you, years ago.”

“What do you-”

“You’re right. You do wear armor. And I can only imagine how it felt to have something break past those defenses.”

It was nearly silent as you studied his visor, your reflection staring back at you in the low light. The only sounds were Grogu’s snoring, the muted drone of traffic several levels up, the quiet lull of street noises from below, and both of your quiet breaths.

“I hope you know you don’t have to keep wearing it for me.” Your eyes flitted between his, despite the visor. Somehow you knew. “If you want to, that’s okay. I understand. That’s part of who you are. But….” You took a surprisingly shaky breath, and his hand came to rest on your hip, his thumb tracing soothing patterns while he waited for you to finish. You had to screw your eyes shut to focus on the last few words. “But I just wanted you to know. I’d be your armor if you needed- wanted me to.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, the darkness so much easier to hide in. How ironic, since you had just offered him a way out of something similar.

The next thing you knew, the cool touch of beskar against your forehead for the third time tonight made you take in a shuddering breath.

“I’d like that,” you heard him rumble lowly, making you smile.

A long moment passed with just the two of you and shared space before you finally opened your eyes. “What’s going on in there, Tin Can?”

Din huffed out a soft laugh as he gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “I can’t decide which is prettier armor. You or beskar.”

Your arched brows of curiosity fell flat along with your tone. “Really?”

“You asked.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Okay. Moment’s over.” You pushed away from him, your hands already resting on his chest pressing him onto his back in the process.

“Mesh’la, come on. I was only teasing,” Din protested over a laugh, reaching a hand after you as you got under the covers.

You looked up at him, unimpressed. “If you say, ‘we both know it’s the beskar’, joke or not, so help me, a bad bed roll will be the least of your back pain worries.”

His hand recoiled slightly as if you had burned him. “Okay, that’s fair.”

You smirked. “I thought so.”

Turning, arms still cradling your upper half, you tilted your head back to look at him straight on. Staring into his visor, your reflection the only thing looking back at you, it took everything you had to fight the sinking feeling in your gut. “Din, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

He crowded further into your space, making your head tilt back even more. “Do what?”

“Keep going. I know I have to, and I will for the kid, for you, but…. I feel like I’m about to break.”

“Then break.” His arms slowly came around your waist.

“What?” Brows knit in confusion, you blinked up at his visor.

“Go ahead and fall. I’ll catch you.”

“Din-”

“Remember on Tatooine when you decided to use the Force to shoot the packets?” You nodded. “It zapped you so fast you couldn’t hardly stand up, but I stood right there behind you, and kept you up, until it was too much. Then-”

“You let me fall.” Smiling softly, you leaned your face into his cowl taking a much needed deep breath, what felt like the first in a while. He smelled like plasma, and smoke, faintly of Morak, something simply him, and….. home.

Suddenly the air didn’t feel so oppressive, gravity wasn’t pushing you down so hard. Unwinding your arms from around yourself, they found their way around Din, holding him tight. They found their way home, knowing exactly where to go.

“Mmm-hmm,” he hummed into your hair, his grip around you cinching tighter. “I let you fall back into me, then I made sure you were safe until you were ready to try again.”

“How did I end up with someone like you in my life?” You mumbled the words lazily into his cowl, the corners of your mouth curving further up.

The smile on his face was evident in his tone. “You’re a really great bartender.”

Xxx

Din was able to track Bo-Katan and Koska down on some backwater planet you didn’t even know the name of. At this point it didn’t really matter, they were all bleeding together. You just wanted to get a team together and get the kid. And if that included killing or maiming a Moff in the process…. Well that was just fine with you. Anyone who would steal and torture a child deserved the absolute worst punishment. Especially if that child was Grogu. Was yours.

Walking into the local cantina, you hovered behind Din and Boba, all three of you standing tall as the patrons started to notice you one by one. Conversations went silent, laughter dying out as they realized who exactly had darkened their doorway. They began to flee the building, some of them being sly about it, others just blatantly running past, but no one wanted to linger when two more bodies in beskar walked through the door.

One or two pointed to the saber on your hip, and a sense of pride swelled in your chest. Let them see. You may not have a suit of beskar, but a saber carried just as much infamy. Hopefully it kept more of the Gideon’s of the galaxy away from you and yours.

The cantina slowly emptied until it was just Bo-Katan and Koska eating at a table on the far end and your little party of three. A handful of patrons had waited until the bounty hunters had walked all the way through the establishment before they bolted, jostling you where you stood, still by the door.

Leaning against the frame, arms across your chest, you sighed as a Rodian inched past you cautiously, and you swore a wary smile was tugging up one side of his face but you knew that was impossible.

“I need your help.” Din’s voice was gruff.

Bo-Katan sighed. “Not all Mandalorians are bounty hunters.” She wasn’t wearing her helmet, and neither was Koska, so nothing was there to hide the annoyance on her face as she turned toward your little party of three. Her eyes flicked up and down Boba before landing back on Din’s visor. “Some of us serve a higher purpose.”

“They took the child,” Din explained in a heavy tone, the hesitance in his words slowing them down to something almost broken. Reluctant.

That got her attention. “Who?” To her credit, her features melted into genuine concern, the wheels in her head already turning to plot a rescue.

Din answered without a moment's hesitation, his voice once again the low, confident growl you were used to. “Moff Gideon.”

You made your way further into the cantina, leaning on your right shoulder against the pillar beside Din, nodding once to Bo-Katan when she met your eyes.

She returned the gesture before her gaze fell down to the knife on your belt and a fond smile briefly turned up her features before it melted away just as fast. “You’ll never find him.” She turned back toward her plate of food, Koska doing the same beside her.

Boba turned to look at you, his head tilting to the side in explanation instead of speaking, then lifted his visor toward Din. “We don’t need these two. Let’s get outta here.”

Bo-Katan’s attention immediately snapped toward the green set of beskar, her body angling toward him as she spoke. “You are not a Mandalorian.”

“Never said I was.” Boba only turned his head to peer at her across his shoulder. The movement was almost lazy, and it made you want to snicker. His voice was somewhat bored, and you leaned your head back into the pillar, settling in for the show.

“I didn’t know sidekicks were allowed to talk,” Koska finally piped up, directing her sarcastic comment toward Boba.

This made you push off the pillar, your arms coming to rest on your hips near your belt laden with weapons. Keeping your eyes on the other Mandalorian, you stayed back when Boba subtly held his arm out to stop you. This was his fight.

Sidling up to their table, he chuckled dryly. “Well if that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.” He pulled up short when Koska got to her feet and stood right in his face. “Easy there, little one.”

Stepping closer the minuscule amount left between them, her nose practically brushing against his visor, she issued further threats as her head bobbed side to side for emphasis. “You’ll be talking through the window of a bacta tank.”

Your hand slowly lowered to your blaster hanging in the holster on your belt.

Bo-Katan held out her hand toward the two Mandalorians, her tone exasperated. “All right, easy. Save it for the Imps.”

Lowering your hand off of your blaster, you straightened your spine as Koska sat back down in her seat, and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Din thankfully moved the subject along. “We have his coordinates.”

The look of surprise on Bo-Katan’s face was priceless. “You can bring me to Moff Gideon?”

“The Moff has a light cruiser. It could be helpful in your effort to regain Mandalore.”

“You gotta be kidding me. Mandalore?” Boba turned to Din. Taking the few steps back toward the shiny Mandalorian, his voice had taken on disbelief. “The Empire turned that planet to glass.”

Bo-Katan was seething. “You are a disgrace to your armor.”

At that point you tuned out. Anything else was just going to upset you. Boba was your friend, and Bo-Katan was needed to get to Gideon. You’d pick a fight if you kept listening to her hurling insults about him being a clone, but you took a page out of Boba’s book, and let it roll off your back.

All sound faded out for a moment, the silence so loud it was distracting. You stared blankly at the wall behind everyone.

Din settled into the pillar beside you, leaning against his left shoulder, and drawing you out of your trance. Smiling softly at the tilt of his head and heavy sigh that followed, you arched a brow at him in question.

His shoulders rose and fell with another sigh, the words coming out on the exasperated breath. “Might as well get comfy.”

Your brow tilted further up into your hairline, the corner of your mouth trying to match it. “Why? What’s happening?”

Koska was thrown into a nearby table by Boba, the stone shattering under the impact, sending dust and rubble skittering across the floor.

“Mandalorian argument,” Din grunted.

“Doesn’t an argument usually involve words?” You asked, settling your spine against the pillar, watching as Koska and Boba exchanged blows.

Leaning his head to his left toward you, you tilted yours to the right to meet him in the middle. “This is a special dialect of Mando’a,” Din teased.

Both of you split apart almost lazily as Koska’s feet flew into the pillar, ran across its surface while her jet pack ignited and sent her head over heels in a flip, Boba’s head locked in her grip the whole way.

You came back together as if nothing had happened, resuming your previous positions as the green beskar landed on the ground with a thud, popping up just as fast and two opposing flamethrowers ignited, meeting in the middle in a shower of flames.

“Enough! Both of you!” Bo-Katan barked in annoyance.

When the fires didn’t go out, you rolled your eyes, pushing off the pillar and flipping over the wall of heat, igniting your saber and making it zing off your vambrace.

Their flames sputtered to a halt as sparks flew from your armor. Bo-Katan bowed her head to you once in thanks, her eyes wide. You returned it, a tight smile on your face as you disengaged the blade.

Bo-Katan continued pointedly, eyes flicking between the two Mandalorians. “If we had shown half that spine to the Empire we would’ve never lost our planet.” She turned to Din. “We will help you. In exchange, we will keep that ship to retake Mandalore. If you should manage to finish your quest, I would have you reconsider joining our efforts. Mandalorians have been in exile from our home world for far too long.”

“Fair enough.” You could tell Din was just saying what she wanted to hear. He had no intentions of joining her cause. It made you smile softly. Ever the diplomat…. Give or take some aggressive negotiations.

“One more thing. Gideon has a weapon that once belonged to me. It is an ancient weapon that can cut through anything.” Her eyes fell to the hilt of your saber now hung back on your belt as you made your way back to Din’s side.

“Almost anything.” Koska looked at you pointedly before turning her gaze to Bo-Katan.

“It cannot cut through pure beskar.” Bo-Katan held Koska’s stare, then her eyes fell to your vambraces before they returned to Din. “But then your riduur already gave us an example of that.” Before you could say anything she continued. “I will kill the Moff and retake what is rightfully mine. With the Darksaber restored to me, Mandalore will finally be within reach.” (“Partner.”)

Your head began to swim again. So much rested on one man. Kriffing Moff Gideon. The restoration of Mandalore, the reunion of a clan, the mending of your heart…. It was all becoming a bit overwhelming. All it took was one little thing going wrong, and…. Just one thing….

Din peered down at her, his voice stable and calm. “Help me rescue the child and you can have whatever you want. He is my only priority.”

That shouldn’t hurt like it did. You knew he meant it only in the sense of her eagerness to fight Moff Gideon, but you couldn’t help but take it personally. It burrowed down under your skin and stung more than a prick from your training remote.

What did you expect?

It was always the kid.

You knew that.

You were always second.

Suck it up and move on.

The voices in your head made you angry, and what’s worse, sounded a lot like you. There was no kyber to blame, no unseen force pulling at strings…. It was just your messed up brain.

You had to get out of there. Din would understand. He probably saw you as a liability already anyway.

A shuddering breath filled your lungs as you took a step backwards towards the door. That last thought made you sad.

If there was one thing you never wanted, it was to be a burden for him. But looking back, that’s all you’d ever been. He’d had to teach you, feed you, house you…. There’s not a moment where he wasn’t devoting his time to keeping an eye on you. He gave the kid more freedom than you.

Turning, you strode out of the cantina, ignoring Din’s calls at your back.

“Mesh’la!”

Finally a gloved hand wrapped around your elbow, pulling you to a stop, but not before you ripped your arm out of his hold.

Rounding on him, you turned to stare at his visor with a flat expression and took a step backward. “What?”

He slowed to a stop about a foot away from you. “I should be asking you the same thing!”

“So much is riding on this one man. Everything…. If just one thing goes wrong…. And I don’t…. I don’t know what I would do if….” Arms crossed over your chest, you held his gaze. “I just finally put it together, Din. He’s your only priority, you said it yourself. I’m nothing but a burden here. I can’t teach the kid, you have to teach me everything, from flying the ship to fixing it to defending myself…. You never let me out of your sight! It’s like…. I finally got it. I’m a liability, so I’ll just go.”

Turning, you didn’t even make it a step before you froze again at the sound of his voice.

“Mesh’la….” When you wouldn’t turn around, he continued. “I don’t let you out of my sight because I can’t.” You scoffed. “I don’t want to. You’re the first thing I want to see each morning and the last thing before I fall asleep.” His voice got closer. “In fact, that’s one of the reasons I don’t want to sleep, because I don’t want to miss a second.” He drew closer still. “Yeah, I’d call you a liability, but for the first time, I’m willing to have a target on my back if that means I get you in my life. You’re a liability because if you left, I don’t know what I would do.”

You huffed. “What, you can’t find someone else to watch the kid?”

“I can’t find someone else to make me laugh.” Din didn’t miss a beat. He continued down his list as if it was ready made on the tip of his tongue. “To put all the blasters in the weapons locker backwards because they know it annoys me. I can’t find someone else who’s had me in a chokehold from the moment I saw them. I don’t like people, you know that. But I really, really-”

“Tolerate me?”

You didn’t have to turn around to know his weight had shifted to one leg, his head tilted to the side in disbelief. “Yeah. That’s it. I tolerate you. I tolerate you bad.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle as you rolled your eyes.

His voice was closer when he spoke again, the gravel of the planet crunching underfoot as he drifted slowly nearer to you. “I tolerate you a lot. All the time. You walk in the cockpit and it’s just like the first time I saw you all over again. You make me act like an idiot.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Well, at least we can agree on that.”

“My brain stops. I forget what I’m doing.” His chest was pressed along your spine now, his hands on your upper arms, modulator by your ear as he went on. “It’s dangerous. So yeah, you’re a liability.” His grip on your arms tightened. “Good thing I’m in indestructible armor.”

The snort of laughter fell out before you could stop it, more coming out to meet it as soft chuckles buzzed out of his chest and along your skin as he closed his arms around your upper body, pulling you tightly to him.

“Gar cuyi ner aliit. Ni kar'tayli darasuum gar. Gar cuyi ner mir'sheb bal gar utreekov kar'tayli darasuum gar, cyar’ika.” His voice was low and quiet, but happy. (“You are my family. I love you. You are my smartass, and your idiot loves you, darling.”)

Lifting your hands up to rest on his still around you, you couldn’t fight the grin crawling up your face. “Bal gar mir'sheb kar'tayli darasuum gar.” (“And your smartass loves you.”)

His helmet pressed into the crook of your neck, the buzz of his modulator tickling your skin. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I should have phrased what I said to Bo differently.” He groaned softly. “Ni cuyi gar utreekov, partayli?” (“I am your idiot, remember?”)

You turned in his hold, pressing your forehead to his. “Ni kar'tayli. Ni kar'tayli gar. Gar cuyi ner kar'ta, partayli?” You sighed, closing your eyes. “I’m sorry I overreacted. I’m just so on edge since everything with the kid, and I…. Thank you for understanding. And thank you for fighting for me, Tin Can. Even though it’s not much of a risk with that indestructible armor.” Your eyes flew open, looking at the T of his visor through your lashes and cocking one eyebrow skeptically. (“I know. I know you. You are my heart, remember?”)

“Shi par gar,” he whispered, his voice tight with an obvious smile. (“Only for you.”)

Xxx

Once everyone boarded Boba’s ship, a plan started to form. Before the group huddled around the holotable, you noticed Koska quietly complimenting some of the weapons stowed in a cluttered corner of the deck. You smiled softly as she and Boba fell into a brief amicable conversation about how he acquired the items, their scuffle back in the cantina long forgotten.

With a roll of your eyes you continued toward the rest of the party. Mandalorians.

Din stood at the back of the group as usual, hands tightly gripping his belt as he watched the others set up the display. The leather of his gloves creaked in protest with every flex of his hands against the thick strip of material around his waist.

Leaning into his side, you pretended to adjust his bandolier, speaking softly so only he could hear. “You okay?”

His visor turned down toward you in question, so you silently slid your hand down toward the hand closest to you, prying it from his hip and slipping your fingers through his with a gentle squeeze.

He let out a sigh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah. Sorry. Just…. We’re almost there.”

You turned your head so you were facing the wall behind you, keeping the conversation completely private. “Din Djarin nervous?” Your eyes flicked up to meet the T of his visor, along with a smirk. “Well that’s a first.”

“And that’s a lie,” Din grumbled. “You do all kinds of things that make me nervous.”

“Aw,” blinking your eyes an absurd number of times, you rested your free hand on his chest. “That’s sweet.”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” he groused. “I meant things like cooking and fighting. Just normal, everyday things.”

Patting his chest plate a few times, a tight smile pulled up your features. “I know.” With one last squeeze of his hand, you leaned in and whispered, “We’ll talk about it later.”

Din swallowed roughly. “See? Things like that.”

A holo of a massive ship spun in front of Bo-Katan’s face, painting her features in a soft blue glow. “This is Moff Gideon’s Imperial light cruiser. In the old days it would carry a crew of several hundred. Now it operates with a tiny fraction of that.” She smiled smugly as she watched the hologram spin.

“Your assessment is misleading.” All eyes turned to the soft voice of Doctor Pershing where he sat perched in a seat right in front of you. He may be soft spoken, but he wasn’t afraid to speak up, and you admired that.

Placing your free hand on his shoulder, you smiled down at him reassuringly when he glanced up your way, nodding once to encourage him to go on.

“Oh, great. An objective opinion.”

Cutting your eyes Cara’s way, you made sure to shoot her a look through narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. She only shrugged in return, sending your eyes rolling.

“This isn’t subterfuge. I assure you.”

“Let him speak.” Bo-Katan’s interest surprised you, but the more you thought about it, it really didn’t. If the information he had was true, it affected every aspect of her plan.

Pershing let out a sigh. Relief washed over his face, his shoulders rounding forward as he let out the breath. “There’s a garrison of dark troopers on board. They’re the ones who abducted the child.”

That seemed to get Din’s attention. “How many troopers do they have armed in those suits?”

Now that he was back under the scrutiny of a beskar gaze, Pershing sat up a little straighter, hesitating slightly, his eyes fixed on the floor. You didn’t blame him. Those visors were intimidating. “These are third-generation design. They are no longer suits. The human inside was the final weakness to be solved. They’re droids.”

“Where are they bivouacked?” Fennec’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, making you tilt your head at her curiously.

Pershing got to his feet, shooting you a glance, his face pulled into a tight expression before he focused solely on the holo, pressing a short series of buttons. “They’re held in cold storage in this cargo bay. They draw too much power to be kept at ready.”

“How long to power up?”

“A few minutes, perhaps.” Pershing’s tone never flustered. You half expected him to crack after a few minutes, but he truly was just a soft, kind, well intentioned man stuck in the middle of a horrible situation.

He didn’t even crack when Din asked him another question.

“Where is the child being held?”

He just pushed another button, the holo filtering through layouts until it settled on the one he wanted, and he began to explain. “This is the brig. He’s being held here under armed guard.”

Pershing turned back to look at you once again, and you nodded, offering him a smile which he was quick to return before settling back into his seat.

Bo-Katan wasted no time. “Very well. We split into two parties.”

“We go alone,” Din was quick to interject, his hand gently squeezing yours.

“Fine,” she said after a moment, shifting her weight, then launching into the rest of the plan.

You didn’t pay any attention. You probably should have but you couldn’t.

Turning your head toward the wall once again, you stood on your tiptoes to get closer to Din’s ear. He tilted his head slightly to meet you halfway. You opened your mouth to say something snarky, a joke of some sort, but your breath caught in your throat, making you swallow instead.

Din turned his head to look at you, and it was all you could do to hold the gaze of his visor.

Letting out a quiet huff of air, you whispered a “Thank you,” before your voice stopped working altogether, the emotions lodged in your throat a formidable foe.

The cold touch of his beskar came to rest on your forehead for only a moment before he was turning back to continue listening to the plan. I guess it’s good one of us was, you thought with a snort.

His voice pulled you back into the conversation. “And us?”

Bo-Katan turned to face him, in full planning mode. “We’ll be misdirection. Once we draw a crowd, you slip through the shadows, get the kid.”

“Those dark troopers? They’re gonna be a real skank in the scud pie.”

“Oh, Cara. Ever the optimist,” you sighed, walking over to a seat next to Pershing and plopping down beside him.

“It’s not my fault the Imps are using super droids now!”

“Didn’t say it was….” You massaged the bridge of your nose, eyes screwed shut.

“So what do you suggest? We just wave you at them and they go flyin’?”

Your hand fell to your lap with a slap. “That’s not how the Force works, and you know it.” A smirk started up your face. “But I could throw you at them, knock a few over….”

Cara tilted her head at you, features pulled tight in annoyance.

“Can you two do this later?” Fennec sighed.

“Oh, so it’s okay for two Mandalorians to destroy the inside of a building on a whim, but I can’t insult my friend with a verbal jab when I want?”

“Basically…. Yeah.”

Both you and Cara gave Fennec the look.

“Their bay is on the way to the brig.” Bo-Katan changed the subject pointedly, her gaze flicking between the three of you before finally landing on Pershing. “Can they make it there before they deploy?”

He seemed to mull it over for a moment. “It’s possible.”

“Here.” Fennec pulled something off of the side of Pershing’s uniform and offered it to Din. “Take his code cylinder and seal off their holding bay. Anyone else, we can handle.”

You tilted your head back to look up at Din where he stood behind you, a mischievous smirk crawling up your features. “They ask for a face to scan this time, let me handle it…. Brown eyes.”

He shook his head at you before turning back to the group. “We’ll meet at the bridge.”

Xxx

The ship bumped gently through hyperspace, blue and silver streaks casting everyone in dancing shadows. It was unusually silent in the cockpit of the stolen Imperial shuttle, everyone’s mind on their tasks ahead.

When Bo-Katan finally spoke, though her tone was quiet, the sound of a voice made you jump. Din snorted in amusement where he stood beside you, the laughter only growing when you reached out to shove his shoulder in annoyance.

“I can’t believe you,” you mumbled. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“Don’t be funny, then,” he countered dryly, turning his visor down toward you.

Glaring up at him, you couldn’t help the quick twitch upward of your lips, opting instead to try and hide it with a roll of your eyes as you focused back on what Bo-Katan was saying.

“Moff Gideon is mine. Got it?”

“Not if he’s mine first,” you mumbled.

Cara stopped cleaning her rifle, and that was how you knew she meant business. “He’s ex-ISB. He’s got a lot of information.” She set the rifle in her lap. Your eyes went wide. She was serious. “I need him alive.”

Bo-Katan sighed, shifting her weight in her seat as she pressed a few buttons on the controls. “I don’t care what happens to him as long as he surrenders to me.”

“Prepare to exit jump space.” Boba’s voice over the comms made you smile. He was on his ship with doctor Pershing.

“We could freeze him,” Boba offered when the question of what to do with Pershing came up.

You leaned in close to him, ignoring his skeptical expression from his seat opposite your own. “Your carbonite chamber is broken, remember?” Tilting your head, you narrowed your eyes. “Or are you just getting that old, old man?”

Boba turned to you with wide eyes. “He doesn’t know that,” he hissed, jerking his head subtly toward Pershing.

The man was sitting just a few feet away, trying to give the impression of not listening in to a conversation about his fate.

“For what it’s worth,” he finally chimed in, holding up one finger and swallowing roughly before going on. “I-I d-d-don’t think c-carbonite is n-necessary.”

Boba sighed as Pershing turned to look at the two of you. After a long pause, Boba gestured with one hand for the man to go on. “And why is that?”

“Um.”

“Very compelling.” Boba looked at you pointedly.

The snort of laughter that escaped you in a huff caught you off guard, but the snickering that followed it didn’t. Leaning forward in your chair, you put your hand on Boba’s shoulder, ignoring the way he arched a brow and looked at it like it was a broken hyperdrive. “Come on, friend. It won’t be a problem. Because like you and I, he is also a friend. And friends help each other, don’t they?” Boba slowly lifted his head to hold your gaze once again, simply staring at you, his brows flat and unamused. You gave his shoulder a little shake, and your voice a slight edge. “Don’t they.”

He sighed.

You smiled, releasing your vice-like grip on his pauldron back to something more forgiving. “They at least don’t freeze each other in carbonite.”

Boba hummed in thought, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “You’ve never met some of my friends.”

As your hand fell into your lap, you stared at him, smile stuck on your face in disbelief. You blinked once, twice. “What?”

“Copy that.” Bo-Katan smiled softly. “Get the hell out of there as soon as they clear us to dock. And your shots have to look convincing.”

Boba huffed out a laugh. “Power up those shields, princess. I’ll put on a good show.”

“Watch out for those deck cannons.”

Looking at Bo-Katan with wide eyes, your eyebrows narrowed in confusion before you looked up into Din’s visor, one brow rising into your hairline. “Well. That bridge was mended fast,” you muttered under your breath.

Din simply shrugged one shoulder in response, his head shaking slightly as if to say, “Don’t look at me, I’m just as confused as you are.”

Probably more, you thought with a grin as you turned back toward the viewport.

Boba muttered something under his breath. Then his voice softened, an undercurrent of something almost concerned painting his tone. “Don’t worry about me. Just be careful in there.”

“You be careful out here, old man.” Your words whispered for only yourself to hear, a tight smile pulled up your face when Fennec snorted out a soft laugh to your left. Her eyes met yours, a gentle shake of her head her only response before she focused back out the viewport.

Silence settled once again throughout the cabin, this one a bit more tense than the first. It was time. On the other side of this jump lay uncertainty and conflict…. But it also held your heart. You were one stop away from healing. And for some reason that made you grip the handle by your head tighter.

Koska’s soft countdown pulled you back into the moment at hand. “Exiting hyperspace in three, two, one…”

The ship lurched, sending you stumbling forward slightly as the streams of hyperspace slid into streaks of silver stars. Gideon’s light cruiser loomed through the viewport, filling the space from end to end and growing as the ship approached it rapidly.

Boba shot at the shuttle in bursts, both ships weaving back and forth as the bolts narrowly missed the hull.

You could almost hear Boba’s voice in your head. “That was my warning shot.”

Bo-Katan called out a fake mayday, asking for help from the cruiser, but everyone exchanged a nervous look when a response came back to clear the way for TIE support.

As she tried to call the bluff, heading straight for the landing bay as planned while yelling something else into the comms, you shifted your weight to avoid falling as she took a particularly aggressive turn to the right. The quick upward motion of the ship that followed knocked the wind out of you with a huff.

“I hope she fights better than she flys,” you leaned toward Din, grumbling about Bo-Katan and groaning as she swerved again, sending you stumbling into his chest.

His arms wrapped around your waist, one of them reaching up to grab onto the handle for stabilization as he peered down at you with a slight tilt of his head. “This feels familiar.”

A snort of laughter had you tucking your face into his cowl with another groan. “Yeah, it’s almost like we need to make better friends, or at least some who fly with some sense of survival.”

“We haven’t died yet.”

“Yet is the key word there.”

Streaks of green from TIE fighter blasts shot past the viewport, illuminating the cabin on their way past.

Closing your eyes, you focused on the nearest enemy ship, reaching out through the Force in an attempt to send it spiraling through space when a hand on your shoulder stopped you short. Blinking your eyes open, you turned down toward the grip to find a gloved hand holding you tight.

“Uh-uh,” Din’s voice was low, similar to the way he admonished the child. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I was just….”

“You were just nothing. Nope. I don’t wanna hear it, mesh’la.”

Arms crossed over your chest as you faced forward, you cut your eyes to the side to glare at him. “You’re no fun.”

He nodded once in agreement, not even bothering to look your way. “I’m the absolute worst.”

Before you could respond, the ship lurched again, the mechanical whirr of the wings folding in for landing vibrating the floor under your feet.

“Hang on!” Fennec yelled, holding on to the bottom of her seat as if bracing for impact.

A quick glance through the viewport showed sparks beginning to fly as the transport touched down inside the cruiser with a massive jolt.

Din held you close with one arm, the handle overhead with the other. You gripped his cowl with both hands as if your life depended on it.

Reaching out with the Force one more time, you searched for the other half of this elaborate plot to get onboard the cruiser, feeling him just on the edge of your awareness before he blipped out altogether. “Boba’s clear,” you breathed on a sigh.

The ship came to a shuddering halt, the screech of metal on metal filling the air along with a thick smoke that obscured most everything.

“Leave some for us,” you mumbled to Bo-Katan as she passed by you toward the lowering ramp, blasters drawn and ready.

You couldn’t see her face because of her helmet, but you could tell from her tone that she was smirking. “I’m not making any promises.”

The first wave waited for as many of the enemy to surround the downed transport before they stormed the hangar, the bay a storm of blaster bolts raining down and jet packs sounding off.

The sounds of troopers screaming and issuing hollow threats grew further and further away, until they reached the other end of the hangar, finally coming to an abrupt end with a single shot. It was over almost faster than it had begun, silence filling the hangar after a matter of moments.

Both you and Din hung back in the cockpit, watching the whole thing on a display until the party disappeared through a door on the other side of the hangar.

“We’re clear,” Bo-Katan’s voice filled the transport from the comm on your hip. “Give us two minutes then go.”

Din pushed a button on the side of his helmet to reply. “Copy that.” He began to follow you toward the ramp. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Bo-Katan snorted. “This is the Way.”

Xxx

Din POV

Din chuckled as he came to a stop a few feet behind you, simply watching in silence. The thick smoke almost concealed you even just the short distance in front of him, but it was just thin enough that it swirled around you in some sort of eerie embrace that kept you still in his sights.

If he was being honest, that’s how things had felt lately since the kid had gone - hazy and unclear. But there was always you somewhere in the middle of all the muddle to grab his hand and pull him through.

If he was being brutally honest…. That was how things had always been with you. Not just lately. Not just sometimes. From the time he met you, everything else seemed to slip into a fog and if it wasn’t for your guiding hand, he’d truly be lost.

It wasn’t that he quit finding joy in other things in life.

But those things meant nothing now if he couldn’t share them with you. Somehow. If he couldn’t find a way to bring them, or himself, back to you.

Din smiled and sighed quietly to himself, walking the last few steps silently.

There was time for all of this later, right now…. He had to get the kid.

You both had to get the kid.

This clan of three had been a clan of two for too long.

Xxx

Normal POV

Standing at the top of the ramp, arms crossed, a smirk crawled up your face.

“What are you doing?” Din’s voice behind you didn’t startle you for once, making the turn of your lips grow.

Trilling the fingers of your right hand, you watched the smoke tendrils near the bottom of the ramp curl and unfurl as you manipulated them slowly; the smile on your face going nowhere anytime soon.

“Having fun.” Tilting your head back to look at him with a broad grin, your fingers still moving in slow swirls, you chuckled softly at his amused sigh and gentle shake of his head. “What? Is there something else I’m meant to be doing?”

“Scoping out the hang-”

“It’s clear.” The smirk returned as you straightened your head to scan the docking bay. “Not a single life form left after our first wave went through. Well, aside from one.”

“Where?” Din drew his blaster, head instantly on a swivel as he surveyed the hangar.

“Right…. Here.” You sent the smoke swirling around him, making him swat at it, batting it away with an annoyed groan as you laughed. “Then again, could be a false reading. Been told bounty hunters are heartless.”

Din grunted, holstering his blaster as he closed the distance between you. “Oh, I’ve gotta heart. Want me to prove it?”

You laughed as your back hit the frame of the opening at the top of the ramp, Din crowding into your space. “I know you do, I know you do. I was only teasing. Kriff, you’re so easy to mess with sometimes.”

Hands on his chest, you tried to push him off. Grunting in frustration when he didn’t move, you arched a brow and peered up into his visor, a soft laugh tumbling out despite yourself. “Hey. Shiny. Let me go. We have work to do. Little green kid. This big?” You held up your hands between you for reference. “Eats everything in sight? Cute as can be and stubborn as a tooka under threat of a bath?”

Din just kept staring down at you, his head tilted slightly to the right. You pushed on his chest again with another grin. “Remember him? Hey!”

“There she is.”

You huffed out a breath in confusion as you stared up into his visor. “What?”

“You’re laughing again. Smiling. You should do that more often.”

Staring over his shoulder absently, you realized you felt content for the first time in a while. “Yeah, I guess I am.” Meeting the T of his visor, you felt a smile climb your face like it was the most natural thing. “I guess it’s because the kid is so much closer for the first time since he was taken. I can feel him, Din. It’s like a part of me that was missing is whole again.”

“You can sense him?” He sounded breathless.

You nodded.

“Is he alright?” He was almost hesitant, but hopeful nonetheless.

Reaching out to wrap yourself around the familiar aura, you felt your soul begin to mend its broken parts. A soft laugh tumbled out as you felt a streak of mischief you knew all too well, followed by hunger, then love.

“He’s going to be okay.”

Xxx

Moving around the cruiser was easy, the team that went ahead of you drawing most of the attention of the crew that remained.

You and Din slinked through the hallways like shadows, evading the few troopers you came across without issue.

An abandoned blaster in one lone hallway caught your attention; without thinking, you went to step out into the corridor to get it, stopping short when the neckline of your shirt cinched tight around your neck. Sputtering, you were jerked back into a beskar wall by a lone, gloved finger in the back of your collar.

“What the hell, Din?!” You hissed as you reached up to tear your top out of his tight grip.

His other hand came up to cover your mouth as two troopers walked by at the end of the hall. The hand in your shirt slipped down around your waist to pull you both further back into the shadows.

“You could have just said something,” you mumbled against his palm, rolling your eyes at his world weary sigh. With a flick of your wrist, you summoned the blaster to you from its spot on a lone crate across the corridor. Turning it over in your hands as you examined it, you hummed softly in thought. “Can you let me go now please?” His hand was still over your mouth so the words were completely jumbled.

“Will you stop trying to cross the street like a drunken baby wookie?”

You sighed into his hand, eyes staring up at the ceiling. “It’s a hallway, not a street, Din.”

“You’re not helping your case, mesh’la.”

You flipped the blaster to stun. “Does that help my case?”

Din heaved another sigh, lowering his hand and nudging you forward out of the alcove. “Let’s go. We’re almost there.”

As a smirk crawled up your face, you followed after him.

“Why have you become so violent?” He mumbled.

“I’ve learned from the best,” smirk melting into a grin, you jammed the blaster into the back of your pants.

Din turned down a hall on the left, then the right, before going straight down another long corridor. Every surface was shiny and reflective. Sterile. You wanted out of here as fast as possible.

Din groaned quietly. “Why do I feel you’re not talking about me?”

Both of you answered his question in unison. “Cara.” You nodded while his head tilted to the side before straightening.

Another left turn.

“Now see,” he mused, stopping to check the layout on the nav in his helmet. “I was going to say Fennec.”

Straight.

Your face twisted in thought. “I could see that…. She-”

He pulled you into a little alcove just as another two troopers walked by, causing you to collide with his chest with a soft thud. The troopers stopped at the sound, peering down the hall you were tucked just out of sight in, making the two of you press further into the wall and by extension, one another. Holding a finger up to your lips, you waited for Din to nod in acknowledgment before staring blankly at the wall next to his shoulder, deep in focus.

After a moment, both troopers jumped slightly, looking behind them, then ambled off in search of the phantom sound you’d caused down the hall.

“I can’t believe you jumped,” one said.

“You did, too!” The other protested.

“Did not. I was just trying to turn around before you did.”

“Sure,” his friend said sarcastically.

“You know what,” the first one started. “If you don’t stop coming after me, I’m going to tell the Moff about the time you….”

Their voices faded around the corner, soft sounds of bickering trailing to nothing after a few moments.

Din chuckled, looking down at you, but made no effort to move. “You’re very handy to have around.”

You smirked. “Thank you.”

Xxx

A short while later, after just a few twists and turns, you came around a corner that had Din pressing a button on the side of his helmet to pull up his nav, his blaster drawn in the other hand.

“This is it,” he mumbled, reaching down and pulling out the code cylinder from his belt. Glancing at a panel on the wall a short ways down the hall by a set of doors, his steps picked up as he hurried toward the controls, breaking into a sprint with a sudden, “No. No!” when the doors began to hiss open.

He clicked it in just in time, sending the doors the opposite way, but not quite fast enough for his liking. In a split second he had shifted his weight and began to fire his blaster through the small crack still left open between the two doors.

You thought it all was over until two hands, two mechanical hands, the same hands you'd seen wrapped around the child on Tython, slipped through the remaining sliver left between the doors and pried them open.

Despite Din’s relentless open fire, the droid continued forward, pulling one arm back and punching Din square in the front of his helmet which sent him flying back into the wall. The droid then opened the doors enough to slip through before they slammed shut behind it.

Menacing red eyes stared lifelessly as it stalked closer to Din.

“Hey, bolt brain!”

The droid turned its head to look at you with a mechanical whirr, and you wasted no time. Charging toward your opponent, you did the attack that was second nature now. It was instinct.

“Not today, grease breath,” you mumbled as you leapt into the air, wrapping your legs around the neck of the droid in an attempt to take it down.

But instead of both of you going down in a pile of limbs, the droid reached up, grabbed your thigh in its inhumanly tight grip, pulled you from its shoulders, and flung you to the floor as if you weighed nothing.

The hallway sped by in streaks of dull shine, your skin screeching across the floor until you finally came to a stop several yards away. Nothing was really processing in your mind at that point past, “Well, that didn’t work.”

Suddenly it was like fire was shooting up your leg. Looking down at your thigh near where the droid had grabbed you, there was a tear in your pants, and underneath that a deep, angry gash that looked almost like a burn.

Din had kept firing at the droid while you made your attack, and it seemed a blaster bolt had ricocheted off of the monster and nicked your leg. The more you thought about it, the more it began to hurt. Pain radiated into your lower back and down into your foot, a hiss of discomfort passing through your tightly drawn lips. Biting back a moan, your jaw ticked to the side as you ground your teeth through another wave of agony.

But you didn’t have time to dwell on any of this, even though it had all occurred in just a matter of seconds.

The droid had already set its sights back on Din and had lifted him up against the wall by his throat, holding him in place as it released punch after punch into his visor.

Your only comfort was that his beskar was sure to hold up.

“Din!” You cried out, pushing up onto your palms, the movement causing a new wave of pain to shoot through your leg. Grimacing as you looked down at the wound, your attention was pulled over your shoulder as the platoon of dark troopers left in the bay began to pound on the doors to try and get through.

Turning back toward Din, you reached out as much focus you could offer right now, the wound tugging at the edges of your consciousness and making the lights in the corridor go blurry. The wall behind his head collapsed and a gas line began to fill the hallway with a cloud of the noxious fumes. He was suddenly sending energy down toward his flamethrower, so you withdrew from your mind and engaged your vambrace as well.

The two pillars of flame met in the middle, dousing the droid in fire and sparks, but it didn’t even seem to slow it down at all. It just looked down at its body as the mechanics moaned and groaned under the heat, then lifted its head back up to look at Din before throwing him down the hall as the droid’s body somehow put out the flames.

“Din!” You cried out again, anger boiling in your stomach as you watched him slide across the floor and could do nothing to help him. “Dank farrik!”

He was right under the panel and reached up to pull the handle to eject the rest of the dark troopers, but just as his fingers touched the metal, the droid grabbed his leg and tugged him back to the other side of the hall. It took a few steps toward him, then leaned back on one leg and kicked Din in the chest, sending him sliding further down the corridor.

As the droid opened fire at the beskar clad warrior, and Din returned the favor with his whistling birds, you took the opportunity to crawl and get your back up against the wall next to the panel. Relaxing into the durasteel for just a breath, you focused and reached out with the Force, flipping the lever with an unseen hand.

It struggled at first, flickering against the wall as if it didn’t want to move despite your clear intentions for it to just go. The transparisteel at the top of the door between you and the dark troopers cracked from top to bottom. One more hit and they were coming through. As one of the droids reared back to deliver a final punch, the handle flipped, sounding an alarm and opening the bay doors at the back of the area, sucking them all out into space.

Smirk on your face, you looked up and watched as the dark troopers were pulled away from the small window at the top of the door. “Bye, you sons of-”

You were cut off by the sound of beskar through metal. Turning your head, you looked to find the droid crumbling into a pile of sparks and broken parts at Din’s feet, the beskar spear firmly in his hands. Reattaching the spear to his back, he let out a breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort before he turned his head and saw you perched on the floor.

He was quick to rush over to you, crumbling himself to land on his knees at your side, his hands a contradiction as they trembled, moving slowly toward the wound on your thigh. “Did I?”

“Ricochet,” you corrected him quickly. “When I jumped the droid. Got me good. Just…. Just help me up.”

His shoulder went under your arm immediately as he got you to your feet. “You should head to the bridge. I’ll find the brig, get the kid, and-”

“No.” He met your eyes with his visor, and you held his gaze, eyebrows raised in challenge as you tilted your head to the side. “Din, no. He’s part of my clan, too. I’m coming with you.”

He sighed. “Mesh’la….”

Standing up straighter, trying to take more weight on your bad leg, you stumbled a few steps away from him, or at least attempted to. He didn't let you get but a few inches away before his arm was back around your torso again in support. “At least I didn’t shoot you!”

“I didn’t shoot you,” he grumbled, adjusting your weight against his side.

Staring at the side of his helmet in a deadpan, you couldn’t help but notice there wasn’t even a scuff mark from where the droid had unleashed its fury. That settled you a bit. But not enough to calm your annoyance. “You shot me.”

He rolled his head in exasperation. “It bounced off the death droid.” Turning as a unit, you both began down the hall toward the brig, Din carrying the brunt of your weight on his shoulder.

You snorted a laugh. “According to you, all droids are death droids.”

“Not the point- Don’t change the subject!”

Now you were snickering. “I didn’t.” Clutching his cowl in your hand thrown around his neck, you gave him a gentle, playful shake. “You shot me, he’s my family, too, so I’m coming. End of story. Now let's go.” You tried to walk a little faster, but with a Mandalorian literally strapped to your hip, it didn’t work very well.

After a few steps down the hall, Din spoke softly. “Bolt brain?”

Turning your head, you found his visor studying your face. “Well I couldn’t exactly call it Tin Can, that’s already taken, isn’t it?”

He nodded before you both continued down the corridor, walking in silence.

“I’m sorry I used your name.” The sigh was second nature now. Just part of being friends with the Mandalorian.

He looked at you. “I’m glad you did.”

“Really?” Your eyes flicked over his visor, every curve and angle spectacularly unaffected from the fight.

Din’s head tilted to the side affectionately, his voice soft. “Yeah.” Coming to a stop, he held your gaze for a quiet moment. “You…. I want…. Use it from now on.”

All you could do was nod.

The two of you turned your focus back forward to once again hobble towards the brig.

It was another minute or so before he spoke again. “I liked grease breath.”

“Really?”

He was obviously smiling. “Yeah.”

Xxx

It took a bit longer because of your injury, but you eventually made it to the brig, only one cell indicating a life form.

You could sense him, and it brought a smile to your face, but you could also sense a…. The smile began to melt just as Din waved his hand over the panel to open the door. “Wait,” you tried, but it was too late.

Pushing off of his side, you stood on your own despite the pain. Din looked to you in question before turning toward the cell once the door was open, his shoulders tensed in understanding.

On the bench in the cell sat Grogu waiting patiently in tiny little binders. Standing beside the kid was a man you could only assume was Gideon, a saber drawn and held precariously close over Grogu’s head. You’d seen enough Imperial officials on Coruscant to be able to read the rank on his uniform.

Din had his blaster drawn in an instant, taking aim the only words needed as he held the gaze of the Moff.

“Ah ah ah,” Gideon chided with a smug smirk, waving the saber over the kid’s head. Any closer and the little hairs on his head would begin to singe. It made your blood boil. If he hurt a hair on his head…. “Drop the blaster. Slowly.” Once Din had done what he’d asked, he gestured to you. “And the one you stole back in the hallway.”

You froze, hands inches from gripping the new blaster tucked into the back of your pants. How did he know? Tossing it aggressively onto the floor next to Din’s with a sneer, you cocked your hip to the side and crossed your arms over your chest, fingernails digging into your biceps to distract you from the pain in your leg.

“Now kick them over to me.” Din held his arm out to keep you in place, knowing you’d probably try to lob them at the Moff with a well placed kick. He nudged them gently across the floor toward the man. “Very nice.”

“Give me the kid.” Din’s voice was gruff and down to business, no room for messing around.

“The kid is just fine where he is.” Angling the saber back and forth, admiring it as he waved it slightly over the kid’s head again, a small smile climbed Gideon’s face. He met your eyes. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it? Used to belong to Bo-Katan.” His gaze flicked to Din, noticing how he shifted his weight just slightly. “Yes. I know you’ve been traveling with Bo-Katan. A friendly piece of advice, assume that I know everything. Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo.”

With a flick of your left wrist, your vambrace whirred to life. “I haven’t used mine.”

Din held out his arm again to hold you back. “Where is this going?”

You reluctantly disengaged the vambrace, studying the saber as the Moff spoke. It was like nothing you’d ever seen. The blade was black with brilliant white energy crackling along the edges, almost giving it the appearance of lightning on a dark night. It hummed at a different frequency than other sabers, you noticed, and the blade had a different shape than you’d ever seen, almost coming to a point at the end. It was truly beautiful, and you could see why it would be something to war over.

But it didn’t hold your interest nearly as much as the tiny little green face that sat just beside it. The giant eyes blinking slowly up at you in love and trust despite the situation. Not a hint of fear coming off of him. How did you deserve a love like that? How had that come into your life?

“Almost done, ad’ika,” you sent to him through your mind.

His ears perked up at the sound of your voice in his head, but then his features twisted up in concern, eyes falling down to your wound before coming back up to meet your gaze.

“I’ll be okay. Let’s just get out of here first, okay?”

Grogu grunted softly, unamused, but turned his attention back to the Moff, and you did, too.

“You keep it. I just want the kid,” Din was saying, indicating the saber. You think.

You really needed to pay more attention, you groaned to yourself.

Gideon nodded. “Very well. I’ve already got what I want from him. His blood.” His what? “All I wanted was to study his blood.” A bad feeling ran down your spine. “This child is extremely gifted…. and has been blessed with rare properties that have the potential to bring order back to the galaxy.” He really thought this was an okay thing to be doing…. “I see your bond with him.” That was abrupt. “Take him, but you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways.” This didn’t feel right, but nothing on this ship did.

Arms crossed over your chest, you scoffed. “Gladly.”

Din turned to you, his voice low. “Go to the bridge.”

Your head snapped to the side to look at him. “What?” Did you just hear him right? Surely he didn’t…. There’s no way….

He took the smallest step toward you, his hand coming out to rest lightly on your elbow. “You’re injured, we’re almost done here….” His grip tightened, your wide eyes falling down to study his steady touch before quickly pulling back up to his visor. “Go to the bridge and tell them to get the ship ready. We have a deal to honor.” His thumb traced your upper arm once before his touch fell away, the ghost of his fingers trailing down to take your hand in his. “Once I have the kid, I’ll meet you all back on the transport and we’ll go home.”

Words weren’t working in your head. Nothing was working right now. Say something. “But-”

“Mesh’la.” For some reason, you felt if you could see his eyes, they would be pleading. “Go. Now. Please.” Din’s hand released yours, the heat from his fingers wrapped around your own evaporating almost instantly in the cold, lifeless interior of the cruiser, haunting you with its memory.

Taking a few steps backwards, ignoring the pain shooting through your leg, you stepped into the hallway, pausing for a moment to stare at Grogu, then Din before turning and starting toward the bridge. You were tempted to glare at the Moff, but he wasn’t worth your time.

You were just about to round the corner when you heard the zing of kyber on beskar.

Without hesitation you turned and ran back toward the room, your wound forgotten as you charged for the door. “Din!”

The Mandalorian backed out of the doorway blocking blow after blow from the Darksaber, the Moff unrelenting in his attacks.

Din finally gained some ground and got his feet under him, gaining some distance between himself and Gideon, enough to right himself and pull his beskar spear as he slowly circled the Moff.

Stop.

A voice you didn’t recognize echoed through your head, ringing as if it were a hammer striking steel.

Stop. No.

It echoed like it was in a cavern and not on a cruiser.

This is the Way.

As you skidded to a stop in the middle of the hall, you called out his name again. “Din!” You were behind him, but he didn’t turn to look at you, the only indication he heard you his shoulders tensing at the sound of your voice.

Ad. (“Daughter.”)

What was that voice?! And now it was speaking Mando’a?

“Go,” Din ordered gruffly.

Slanar. (“Go.”)

You wanted to roll your eyes as the voice agreed with your Mandalorian. Of course it did.

“No.”

Ib’tuur jatne tuur ash’ad kyr’amur. (“Today is a good day for someone else to die.”)

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the Darksaber was talking to you…. Before you could really focus on the blade in the Moff’s hand, Din was moving again.

“Go,” he yelled again, raising the spear to strike at Gideon, sparks flying on impact. “Now!” He blocked a few more blows from the saber before they leaned into each other, the heat from the kyber causing the spear to turn red hot.

Ret’urcye mhi. (“Maybe we’ll meet again.”)

Okay, mysterious voice. You win this round. You and the Tin Can.

Grunting in frustration, you turned on your heel and ran as fast as you could to the bridge. As you charged through the doors, you held up your hands as at least four blasters were aimed at you. “It’s me, it’s me. Only me.”

“Where’s-”

“Back there,” you grimaced, gesturing over your shoulder with your thumb before you collapsed to the floor clutching your leg.

Cara and Fennec were quick to help you over to a chair, propping your injured leg up on a seat across from you, while Koska sealed the doors and Bo-Katan checked surveillance in the halls.

“I don’t see them,” she said, filtering through several feeds.

“What happened?” Cara asked.

“Blaster ricocheted and got me. We found Gideon and the kid, they made a deal.”

“A deal?”

You nodded to Fennec, grimacing as you clutched the wound on your leg tight.

“He wants us off the ship in exchange for the kid. Mando- Din told me to leave and come here, let you all know we’ll meet back on the transport. Then next thing I know I hear Gideon going at him with the Darksaber-”

“And you didn’t help him?”

You glared at Cara. “Of course I kriffing tried to. Dank farrik, Cara, What else do you think I would do, just sit and watch? Run back here faster? Some other third option?” She rolled her eyes at you, leaning against the console at her back. You sighed, relaxing in your seat, head lolling back and hand coming up to cover your eyes. “He told me to go. Again.” Letting your hand fall down to your lap with a plop, you looked between your two friends. “So I did.” You shrugged. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“He knows what he’s doing,” Fennec offered softly. “He’s only trying to keep you and the kid safe.”

“Yeah, well I am pretty good at that myself,” you grumbled. Before anyone could say anything, you screwed up your face like you’d eaten something sour. “I know, I know.” Arms coming to cross over your chest, you pouted like a petulant child. “It’s not the same.”

“At the end of the day, what matters is that you’re both able to come home. Does it matter how that happens? Who does the saving?”

All three of you turned your heads over to look at Bo-Katan in unison.

She wouldn’t hold your gazes for long, her eyes falling back to the screen with the surveillance feed. “He’s here at the door…. With the Moff.” She looked at you pointedly, her voice softer and a smile tugging up her face. “And the kid.”

You sat up straight, turning toward the entrance as you waited for the doors to hiss open. Koska punched the button, stepping to the side to give you an unobstructed view, and you could have sworn a soft huff of laughter passed through her modulator.

As soon as Din came through the doors, the kid in one arm, the Darksaber ignited and extended down to the side in the other, the atmosphere in the room shifted. It was like all the air was sucked out. You almost had to glance around and make sure a stray blaster bolt hadn't pierced the viewport and caused a slow leak.

Power radiated off of him as his grip tightened around the hilt of the weapon, his gloves creaking in protest against the pressure while he followed behind Gideon who’s wrists were bound with binders at his front.

The Moff’s eyes were downcast, but they landed on you briefly, sending a shiver crawling down your spine. Sitting up a bit straighter, not wanting to let him win any satisfaction, you grunted in pain slightly when the stretch pulled on the wound on your thigh. Letting a short breath out through your nose to cover the pain, you suddenly forgot all about it when the corner of Gideon’s mouth quirked up in amusement at your suffering.

“The droids miss far less than the troopers,” he mumbled as he passed by you, letting out an annoyed huff as Din nudged him forward toward the rest of the party with a push that was a little more forceful than necessary.

Din turned his attention toward you, his helmet doing a quick once over from your head down to the floor and back up again. When he saw your leg propped up on the seat in front of where you sat, he disengaged the saber and hurried over to you, kneeling at your side and ignoring your protests.

“I’m fine. Din, I’m fine.” You sighed as he set the saber down on the floor, gently placing Grogu in your lap and inspecting the wound up close. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” he grumbled, reaching for a medkit tucked under one of the stations next to you.

“No, stop it,” you tried to push his hands away as he went to set the kit on your uninjured thigh beside the kid. “Ma- Din, no.”

“Mesh’la,” he sighed, flipping the top of the kit open, groaning in annoyance when you flipped it back shut with an unseen force.

He kept opening it, a total of two more times, only for you to slam it shut again, this time applying a little extra pressure to keep him from being able to open it again.

“I’m fine.”

His forehead came to rest on your knee where he knelt in front of you, a heavy sigh rounding his shoulders.

“Mesh’la….”

“Will you just look at it, you overgrown Tin Can?” You couldn’t help the amusement coloring your tone.

Din lifted his head to look up at you. “I did. It’s-” Turning his gaze down to the small tear in your pants from the blaster bolt, he realized the wound was no longer red and angry, no longer open, but neatly mended skin, fresh and healed. “….gone. It’s gone.” Pulling his visor back up toward your face, tilted slightly in question, you shook your head in answer before looking down at Grogu, smile widening slightly.

Looking between the two of you, Grogu let out an unimpressed grunt before he climbed up onto the control panel at your side, scrambling over your lap and arm of your chair in the process.

Whispers began to circle you, faint and indecisive. You looked down to the hilt of your saber accusingly, but it sat quiet, contentedly on your hip almost as if the kyber was sleeping. The voices surged, making you inhale sharply through your nose to try and not draw attention to yourself, when you realized they were coming from the saber in Din’s hand.

Standing near the front of the bridge, Din gave one of his signature sighs as he turned his attention from the Moff, extending the saber with one hand. He was offering it to Bo-Katan. “And now it belongs to her.”

We belong to no one, the voices surged again, clear as the smirk on Moff Gideon’s face as he watched the exchange between beskar warriors.

Unlike back in the hallway, it wasn’t just a singular voice, it was many. It was different. But there wasn’t time to sit and dwell on the variances between the voices in your head. Shaking your head gently, you focused back on the whispers currently curling into your mind.

They weren’t modulated, but you felt as if the voices belonged to those of Mandalorians past, as if the blade spoke for Mandalore. And in a way, you guess it did. If it had chosen the Mandalorian people, that kyber spoke for a nation. Suddenly it made the taunting voice of your own blade seem small. Insignificant.

Your kyber didn’t like that, didn’t like being pushed to the side, being made to feel small, and started to hum, the vibrations filling your mind with an annoying frequency you couldn’t shake.

It spoke for Mandalorians.

So why was it speaking to you?

Before you fully registered what you were doing, you found your feet had carried you closer to the Moff, something in his demeanor not sitting quite right in the back of your mind. This was too easy.

The pull of the Darksaber drew you further in, its gentle ebb and flow of energy washing softly over you like cresting waves. It was every bit like Mandalorians, at least the ones you knew. Rough around the edges, intimidating and brilliant. But its aura was also soft, and somewhat inviting if you knew where to look. Underneath the rough exterior and harsh lines it offered a warmth unlike any other…. Like a certain beskar clad bounty hunter you knew.

No voices came anymore, but the hum morphed into a steady pulse, almost like a heartbeat, the higher pitch of your purple kyber beating in tandem with the low thrum of the dark blade.

The hum faded slightly to the background as an alarm started blaring at one of the stations, pulling all eyes over toward the sound.

“The ray shields have been breached. We’re being boarded,” Fennec said, going over to the console and disengaging the alarm, her eyes wide on the screen.

“How many life forms?” Bo-Katan asked, walking toward the station.

No matter how far you reached out, you didn’t feel any life forms beyond this ship. And that thought made your gut sink. “None,” you mumbled to yourself.

Fennec turned to the group, swallowing roughly. “None.”

Everyone sprung into action, the slap of footsteps on the deck echoing in your head. The hollow thud thud thud of each boot fall ricocheting in your ears made it seem like the space was spinning slowly.

Din picked up Grogu and set him on the floor by the nearest console, leaning up against its side. “Don’t worry, kid. We’re gonna get you out of here.”

The air was tense as everyone stood in silence once they’d reached their positions. It sounded strange when Fennec called out an order. “Seal the blast doors.” Her voice a stark contrast to the low drone of the ship.

All eyes were on the door once you pressed the button and the extra layer slipped between you and the dark troopers. It was only a matter of time before-

Then Koska said what you’d all been dreading. “They’re here.” Glancing at the small screen, she turned back toward the door, lifting her blaster higher.

It was odd to know an enemy awaited you so closely and yet you could sense nothing. Not a flicker, or a spark, or a-

Thud.

The metal door moaned under the pressure, and began to crumple in the center from the repeated strikes of the dark troopers’ fists.

Blow after blow, the durasteel bent further, nearly separating in the center to reveal your enemy on the other side.

Every pair of feet shifted nervously, trigger fingers twitched with each thud.

You saw Cara toss her head to the side slightly, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before they flew back open as she rolled her shoulders back.

Bo-Katan held two blasters up at the ready, and for all accounts seemed steady. But you saw the shallow breaths she was taking. You knew how to read the body beneath the beskar.

No one in here thought they were walking out.

At least, not all of you.

There has to be a way, you thought, turning toward Gideon.

He was grinning.

“Make them stop,” you ordered gruffly, never lowering your blaster from its aim at the door.

As Gideon began to laugh, you made a split second decision and turned your blaster on him, switching it to stun mode. But he didn’t know that, you just wanted him to hear the whir of the mechanics as it came to life, a very clear threat to make him sweat.

The Moff surveyed the team surrounding himself and the Mandalorian, all weapons besides your own drawn and pointed at the doors as the constant thud thud thud of the dark troopers banged against the durasteel. But he only smiled wider as he looked at the crumpling steel, then at Din pointedly, completely ignoring you. “You have an impressive fire team protecting you. But I think we all know, after a valiant stand, everyone in this room will be dead…. but me…. and the child.” His eyes landed on you again, and it seemed like something went unsaid, but you didn’t get the chance to press him on it.

Rolling your eyes, you glared at him. “Can someone please shut him up?”

An alarm began to beep from one of the consoles, a ship through the viewport catching your eye.

Koska went over to turn off the alert. “An X-wing.”

Letting out a huff, Cara adjusted the rifle braced on her shoulder. “One X-wing? Great. We’re saved.”

After closing the distance between herself and another console, Bo-Katan pressed a button and spoke into the built in comm. “Incoming craft, identify yourself.”

Grogu had perked up the moment the ship had flown by, and it had made your spine straighten, too. When his tiny eyes met yours across the room, you smiled softly, lowering your blaster before switching it to safety and holstering it once again.

Nodding to the child, you both tilted your head almost as if you heard something and smiled a bit more broadly. “I feel it, too, kid.”

Fennec spoke quietly, her voice a mixture of hope, but also wariness. “Why did they stop?”

That’s when you realized the steady thump thump thump of the dark troopers had gone silent. A glance at the screen on one of the consoles showed they all stood facing away from the door. They were ready. Waiting.

Din looked at you, hands on your hips easily as you held the kids' gaze, then at Grogu, his large eyes blinking slowly but wide and alert as he looked up at you, and Din realized you both were completely at ease. Then he turned to Gideon, holstering his own blaster.

Seeing the Mandalorian put down his weapons after a cue from a bartender and a baby, you couldn’t help the grin on your face as you looked down at the Moff, your voice quiet. “It’s over.”

Gideon scoffed. “It’s one X-wing.”

Taking a step closer, you shook your head, your voice a tad firmer. “It’s done.”

Bo-Katan lowered her blasters as she went to the console with the screen. She watched in silence as a lone figure emerged from the X-wing, ignited a saber and began to clear out the dark troopers. “A Jedi?”

The smugness melted off of Gideon’s face, and it made something in your chest pull tight in satisfaction. “What’s the plan now, Moff? Didn’t plan for a laser sword?”

Gideon hummed in thought. “Didn't account for two….”

Turning your attention back on the now silent door, everything seemed to stretch out. Time elongated, a second was like a minute, the space in front of you once only feet suddenly looked like miles. Nothing looked right, everything felt off, and you realized you heard absolutely nothing at all. No chatter, no alarms, no calming breaths as one of your friends stabilized their blasters.

Something was about to happen.

The voices and the hum surged once again, tumbling back into your consciousness along with every other sound from the deck. They began to spread out, time almost seeming to slow further with them, and a low thrum filled the space in between.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and everything in your body told you to turn back around and face Gideon.

Turning as fast as you could, but what seemed so slowly, like you were moving through water, you saw the Moff pull a blaster and fire off a few shots at Bo-Katan, bolts of light ricocheting off her beskar left and right before she fell to the ground.

Reaching out, you sensed she wasn’t injured, so you kept eyes on the Moff, everything slowing down further as he turned to take aim at Grogu.

But this time it was different. While everything else slowed, it was like you were moving incredibly fast.

You could sense the intent of the others before they acted, so you knew Din was going to dive in front of the kid to block the bolts with his armor, Cara was going to disarm him, and Fennec would make sure he didn’t move with the end of her blaster aimed strategically at him.

The scene resumed normal speed to your mind, everyone playing their part to a T. Din slid in front of the kid, shots bouncing off his armor, and every set of eyes on the deck was aimed at the Moff as he froze, blaster still pointed toward Din.

“Drop it!” Fennec barked, her rifle whirring to life as she took aim, Koska and Cara following suit.

After a quick glance around, Gideon pushed the barrel of the blaster up under his chin.

“Oh no you don’t,” you muttered, starting forward.

But before he could pull the trigger, Cara had knocked it out of his hands with the butt of her rifle, then whacked him in the face for good measure.

Moving faster than the air around you, you were at his side, towering over him with your saber drawn. Tip of the blade at his throat in seconds, you let out a long breath as all the voices and hums silenced themselves at once.

“Did you account for three?”

As soon as you ignited the blade, all the chitter and humming stopped. The quiet drone of the ship flying through space and the beep of consoles sounded so much louder than before as you focused on the tight expression of the Moff.

Gideon glanced at you down the length of the blade, fear in his eyes, but also something cocky. “Just as I thought,” he mumbled.

Before you could ask what in the hell he meant, the kid cooed near the screen displaying the rogue Jedi clearing out the ship, pulling your attention away for just a moment. It was such a relief to have him back in your line of sight again, you almost forgot about the villain at your feet. Almost.

Gideon continued to stare at you, the smirk on his face crawling ever higher, while the amusement in his eyes unnerved you.

“What?” You muttered lowly, trying not to draw the attention of everyone in the party to what felt like a private conversation.

The smirk melted into a broad grin, which in turn pulled your brows further together in question.

“Nothing. I’ve just had a realization, is all,” the Moff mused. “When all of this is over, and the dark troopers have left me the only one standing…. Perhaps I can be convinced to include you in the deal, as well.”

Your eyes narrowed to slits, the end of your saber getting just enough closer to his skin that any facial hairs would shrivel away from the heat. It followed him up as Gideon got back to his feet with a groan, Din stepping in to make sure the binders around his wrists were fastened extra tight.

“You still think this is going to go your way?” Grip adjusting on the hilt of your saber, fingers stretching then tightening into a sturdier hold, you grinned as the Moff glanced down at the purple blade and swallowed tightly. Letting out a huff of air, you held his gaze once it pulled back up to yours. “Fine. I’ll play. And why would I want that?”

Despite his nerves, his grin took a wicked turn. “You seem the type to be on the winning side.”

In a matter of moments you’d disengaged your saber, and closed the few steps left between you. A quick jab of your elbow to his chest knocked the wind out of him, then you flipped it in your hand to jam the butt of the hilt against Gideon’s temple, knocking him to the ground; the toe of your boot landed a swift kick near his spine, squarely to his left kidney to keep him down as he tried to scramble back up.

“You’re right,” you said plainly, looking down at him as the rest of the deck looked on in silence. “I am on the winning side.” Leaning down closer toward his face, you enjoyed how he shrunk away slightly. “It’s just not yours.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” he grumbled, trying to get back upright. Struggling with his bound hands, his cape twisted over his shoulder obstructed his view, which only got worse as he tried to bat it away with his joined palms. The press of Fennec’s rifle into his spine made him still, his eyes fluttering shut as he let out a defeated huff through his nose.

You stayed close to his face, a smug smile turning up your features. “Jokes on you, Moff. I’m not sure of anything.”

Din sighed heavily off to your left, and you could just make out his head shaking in your peripherals, hand cradling his forehead as it continued to rock back and forth.

“Well I am,” Cara said calmly. “And we’re all gonna die if we don’t come up with a plan to fight these walking gear boxes.”

“We don’t need a plan, Cara. It’s being taken care of.” You pointed to the screen.

“One X-wing?” She scoffed. “You’ll forgive me if I have trouble believing that.” Her weight shifted to one side. “We need any ideas to beat these-”

“You can’t,” Gideon laughed. He turned to the side and spit out a mouthful of blood from when Cara had bashed him with her rifle. When he smiled, his teeth were covered in streaks of red, making his threat all the more menacing. He turned to look at Din pointedly. “You had your hands full with one…. Let’s see how you do against a platoon.”

You’d never seen Mandalorians look uneasy, but as you glanced around the deck, every set of beskar was shifting their weight side to side uncomfortably, sharing looks you didn’t like the sound of.

Turning back toward the screen, a sneer started up your face. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Moff, but it looks like you’re a few droids short of a platoon.”

Gideon was suddenly at your ear, but still on the floor at your feet. His words mumbled into his shoulder somehow reached you as if he was right next to you. “I’m trying not to take this personally, girl, but you need to make a choice. All of your friends are about to die. You can either join them, or join me. The kid and yourself would be safe…. Well looked after. I’d just…. Need a small donation of blood from time to time.”

Your eyes widened as you looked down at him. Meeting his gaze, he smirked.

“In the scheme of things, it’s a small price to pay.”

You jerked him up with an unseen force, holding him nearly nose to nose as you gripped your hands in the front of his cape to pull him down to your eye level. Every blaster in the room whirled to aim at the two of you, the whirr of charging mechanics filling the bridge. “The only price I’m willing to pay, Moff, is you at the end of a rope.”

The man only blinked at you. You saw red.

Your hands clenched his cape so tightly you were surprised you didn’t hear the sound of stitches ripping under the pressure. Tugging him further down, you made him meet you eye to eye. “Now leave my friends and my family alone, you ass.” With a good shove, you pushed him backwards into Cara’s waiting grasp. “Usen'ye, shabuir.” (“Go away, fucker.”)

“The Mando’a language always fascinated me,” he mused, holding your gaze as he taunted. “So many words for such a stoic people. Too bad it’s dying out just like its speakers….”

You were closing the distance between you in an instant. “Ib'tuur jatne tuur gar kyr'amur.” (“Today is a good day for you to die.”)

Din stepped forward, catching your arm with his hand and stopped you short.

Gideon was grinning like a fool. “That’s not a good way to treat someone offering you an out….”

“You’re not offering me an out. You’re offering me a prison.”

“I’m offering you a way to walk off of this ship.”

Wrestling your arm free from Din’s hold - it wasn’t hard, he didn’t put up much resistance - you closed the final step between Gideon and yourself, toe to toe with him in an instant. Without hesitation you dropped to your haunches, extending one leg and spun. Swiping your leg under his, you dropped him back down to the floor with a thump.

Back on your feet faster than anyone could blink, you stared down at the floundering Imperial. “Sorry. Can’t offer you the same courtesy.” You shrugged. “Ni'duraa.” (“I look down on you.”)

Gideon huffed through his nose in annoyance, glaring up at you, but his voice remained calm, and somehow that was worse. “There was a time there was honor among Jedi.” He rolled from his side onto his back, propped up on his elbows.

“I am no Jedi.”

He nodded once, eyes staring across the bridge in thought. “And what of the Mandalorian Creed, where is your honor from that?” Gideons eyes landed back on yours, something in them sparking like he thought he’d won. Like a tooka with a scurrier.

“I am not Mandalorian.”

The Moff’s face crumpled in frustration, and he let out a huff. “Then what-”

You’d had enough. Taking a step closer so the tips of your boots touched the soles of his, you straightened your spine as you glowered down at him. You felt all the other bodies in the room shifting closer to you, whether for support or back up, you didn’t know, but it was appreciated all the same. Closest on your left was Din, the glint of beskar coming into your peripheral and causing the side of your mouth to twitch up. He was just close enough that his upper arm brushed yours. And you knew it was his way of saying “I’m here” without having to say a word.

“No matter what I am, you do not deserve my honor, Gideon. You deserve less than my absolute worst. You tried to destroy my home. You tried to tear apart my family and took my son. You’ve had a bounty on my head for months, and tried to get me killed time and time again. Not to mention whatever sick and twisted things happened in that base back on Nevarro…. I could go on, but you’re not worth the air it’d take to say it all. You deserve less. Less than the least I can give.”

Gideon smirked. “Passionate words for someone proclaiming to care so little.”

This time you smirked, and it made his falter. “That’s the problem. I care too much. But you don’t deserve any of it. I won’t let you. You’ve stolen enough from me. That ends now.”

“And she’s a bartender,” Fennec leaned in to say. “That above all is what matters most in my book.”

Turning your gaze up to look at your friend, brows arched as you shook your head good naturedly, you let your weight shift to one side. “You just want that drink I owe you.”

She shrugged, a smirk working its way up her face now. It seemed to be contagious. “Wouldn’t say no….”

Grogu cooed, resting his hand on the screen as the Jedi waded through the dark troopers as if they were nothing. Quietly moving to stand behind him, you placed your hand on his back gently, rubbing it in soothing circles as you lowered to your haunches to be on his level. “Yeah. I know. I feel it too, kid.”

Din was perched on one knee in front of the console, just to your left. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost sad. “Is it….”

You nodded, eyes never leaving the child. “One of the good ones, Din.”

He hesitated, his head tilting to the side as he looked at his ward. “So Grogu would be safe?”

The quiet warble in his voice pulled your gaze to his visor briefly, but just like always, the hard steel gave nothing away he didn’t want it to.

You looked back at the kid, hand coming up to rub the back of his tiny head. “He’d be with his own kind.” Bringing your hand back down to rest on his small back, you resumed the soothing circles before you stilled, staring at the screen.

You were looking at the one who would take the kid away from you. After everything you’d just done to get him back. He was here. In your hands, your clan was complete and now it was about to be…. He was going to….

After your thumb traced absent patterns against his tiny, scratchy robes, you let your hand fall back to your lap, clutched tightly in your other.

Din’s visor turned back to you. “That’s not what I asked.” He sounded like he understood, but he also sounded confused, which made you smile softly. That was normal for this subject matter.

Keeping your eyes on Grogu, you nodded once again, your voice every bit as soft as Din’s had been. “He’d finally get the training he needs. That he deserves.”

Din sighed heavily, his weight shifting slightly. “Mesh’la….” The one leg came up, and he rocked back on his heels so he was crouched beside you.

You continued. “Green sabers are consulars. They are wise. Think things through. This one should make a fine teacher if they adhere to any of the old ways-”

Din’s hand came to rest on yours still clutched tightly in your lap, his voice low in understanding. “Mesh’la, that’s not what I asked.”

Lifting your eyes from where they fell to study his hand on yours, you looked at Din as a sad smile twisted up the side of your face. “I know.” Swallowing roughly, you blinked back tears as you turned back to Grogu. The child was easier to face, yet your heart broke a little bit more each time you saw him. When you spoke again, your voice was barely more than a whisper. “But that’s the only answer I have to give.”

The Jedi was at the door now, taking out the last of the droids, while you and Din shared a long, loaded look over the top of Grogu’s head.

Once everything fell silent, Din turned his gaze down onto the child for a moment, his shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Din got to his feet, scooping up the kid, and turned toward the front of the bridge. “Open the doors.”

When no one moved, he strode calmly toward the entrance, setting Grogu down on the console you’d been sitting in front of when he’d come in. “I said, open the doors.”

Fennec slightly rolled her head in disbelief. “Are you crazy?”

Din pushed the proper button on the console, and the doors hissed open, revealing a shadowy figure in a cloud of smoke that had a green tint and the soft hum of a saber.

My dream…. You blinked rapidly as flashes of your dream on Boba’s ship replaced the scene in front of you, and they were so close it was hard to distinguish one from the other. It hadn’t been a dream. It was a vision. But then if…. The fight outside the cantina. That meant…. What else had you seen? As the saber disengaged you remembered in a flash reaching for the shadow of the child and he had turned to smoke through your fingers. Gone.

Turning to look at Grogu, you knew where this was going, and your gut sank down to the lower decks below your feet. You knew from the moment you saw the X-wing, if you were being honest, had felt it like the kid had, but…. You could hope, couldn’t you?

The figure emerged from the smoke, tossing their hood back, and suddenly having a form instead of a shadow made this all too real.

You’d just gotten him back.

And now he was about to leave again.

This wasn’t fair.

The hood now pulled back, you saw a young man about your age, blonde somewhat unkempt hair, and kind eyes that seemed to see right through you. It was hard to tell, but the longer you stared, it seemed like he had scars on his face, and curiosity from your days behind the bar nearly got the better of you to ask where they came from. His entire aura was kind and peaceful, a good match for Grogu, but something underneath hinted at something…. haunted. He was plagued by something bigger than him, something he could never shake…. But it seemed to have made him stronger.

Din stepped forward. “Are you a Jedi?” You couldn’t blame him. He’d defaulted into protective father mode. He was just making sure the child would be safe.

“I am.” The Jedi extended a hand toward Grogu as he peeked around the chair in front of the console Din had set him on. “Come, little one.”

Din hesitated. “He doesn’t want to go with you.” He almost sounded hopeful, and that was nearly as heartbreaking as what you knew was coming.

“He wants your permission,” the Jedi corrected softly. “He is strong with the Force, but talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect the child…. but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.”

Din turned to look at you over his shoulder, and it was all you could do to nod in confirmation. He turned back toward Grogu and went to get him out of the chair.

While Din stooped to pick up the child, suddenly a voice filled your mind. “And what about you, young one? Are you not coming, too?” Lifting your eyes to meet the Jedi’s you saw him focusing on the man in beskar and his tiny ward, only shooting you a fleeting glance before looking away yet again. “I sensed another. I know it’s you. You’re strong with the ways of the Force, like your little friend here. But I also sense much fear, much turmoil in you…. Without training, that will only fester and grow into something I fear you will not be able to contain.”

Shaking your head almost imperceptibly, you reached out into his mind, smiling softly in satisfaction when his eyes met yours briefly in surprise. “Thank you for your concern, Master, but I’ve made it this far on my own. The Force hasn’t abandoned me yet.”

Making your way over to stand at Din’s side, one hand resting on his pauldron to stabilize yourself, you smiled down at Grogu softly. Glancing at the Jedi out of the corner of your eye, you saw him looking at you.

The Jedi returned the smile. “Call me Luke. And it isn’t fear of abandonment that concerns me. It’s the opposite, actually. I fear it will overwhelm you, twist you into something you hardly recognize.”

Din held Grogu in front of him so that they were able to look at one another. His voice was soft and heavily affected, but you could tell he was trying to be strong. “Hey, go on. That’s who you belong with. He’s one of your kind.”

Glancing up at Din, you smiled softly before it quickly melted back towards a frown, your eyes falling back onto the child.

“I’ll see you again.” His voice was broken. “I promise.”

The kid reached up, placing his hand on the right side of Din’s helmet as he blinked his big eyes slowly. You had to look down at the ground to collect yourself. It was easy to forget Grogu was actually older than everyone on this ship until he did something like this, and let a little bit of that wisdom of his years shine through in his eyes. He may not be able to speak yet, but his eyes spoke volumes.

As he looked at Din, words surrounded you.

I see you. I know you. I love you. Thank you. I’m going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. Take care of each other. And something along the lines of Don’t forget to tell Peli I’ll miss her.

You opened your mouth to tell Din everything the kid was saying, but Grogu must have done you one better and passed it on to you both, because after a moment of stuttered breathing, Din reached up and removed his helmet.

Mouth snapping shut, your eyes immediately fell to his chest plate, wide before you blinked back tears. Then they returned to Grogu, a sense of calm washing over you once again.

You kept your eyes on the kid, not daring to look up at Din’s face, his cape clutched tightly in your right hand as your left cradled Grogu’s back. “As long as I have this, I’m not too worried about that.”

“That’s what worries me.” Your eyes pulled to Luke’s in question. “Things change.”

Eyes back on the child, you smiled as he peered up at you with a soft coo. “Some don’t.”

Grogu reached out toward the Mandalorian once again, his small hand touching the side of his cheek that no longer bore a helmet.

While you wouldn’t pull your eyes up to see the look on Din’s face, you felt everything you needed to. The room surged with love and calm, peace…. But also a great deal of sadness and longing. The mix was coming from both of them.

This was exactly what the kid needed, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Din called him his son around you once or twice, as did you, but you knew deep down he struggled with the technicalities of that relationship. Their bond was something deeper, more than just father and son, and he knew that. But Din was nowhere close to admitting that yet, and you couldn’t tell if it was that that hurt him more, or the impending absence of the child.

Either way, it swelled low in his gut, simmering in the background as he put on a brave face for his tiny ward.

“All right, pal. It’s time to go.” Grogu whined softly, his ears drooping down toward his shoulders as he peered up at Din. “Don’t be afraid.”

You felt Din’s eyes land on you, the child’s following shortly after. As you peered down into his big wide eyes, tears began to brim in your own. Reaching out and tracing the line of his ear with your finger, pinching the end lightly when you got there, you brought your finger to his small clawed hand, smiling and letting out a breath when he grasped it tightly. With a shaky inhale, you repeated the words you’d said when you thought he was staying with Ahsoka, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I would run for my life a thousand times over if it meant I got to know you again.”

Din lowered to his haunches, setting Grogu on the floor before rising back to his full height. You half expected to see him jerk his head toward the Jedi to motion the kid across, but he just looked at Luke, then down at Grogu, his head tilting slightly as the child clung to his boot and gazed up at him.

It was a wonder you saw anything as he moved in your peripherals, tears blurring your vision as you stared down at the kid.

Grogu’s soft babbles filled the cabin, making your heart hurt just as much as the Mandalorian’s responding silence.

The beeps of an astromech droid came from behind the Jedi, pulling Grogu’s attention away from his caretaker, and you let out a soft breath in relief. Din’s hand found its way into your left hand, clutching it tightly while your right still grasped at his cape to keep you upright.

“Last chance, young one,” Luke’s voice drifted into your mind once again. Looking at him, he didn’t even look at you, he watched Grogu and the droid, nodding to the Mandalorian after a moment. Once Grogu ambled over toward the Droid who bleeped and blooped at him, Luke stooped down to pick up the child, lifting back to his full height. Finally, he met your gaze.

“My answer is the same.” You squeezed Din’s hand.

Standing beside him, just slightly behind, you clutched his cape tightly in your hand to ground yourself. His hair in your peripherals was dark, curly, a mess atop his head you wanted to reach up and shuffle into submission.

You kept your eyes straight ahead on the kid in the arms of the Jedi, not allowing yourself to be the reason he broke his Creed. Technically he’d already broken it, removing his helmet for Grogu, but that didn’t mean anyone else could just walk up and stare. No matter how badly you wanted to.

He turned his head just slightly and you saw the dusting of facial hair out of the corner of your eye, grays mixed in with the dark. It suited him.

“Be careful, then.” Your eyes flicked back up to meet Luke’s as he continued. “Be mindful. I fear for the turmoil I see twisting away in you….”

With a small nod of his head, Luke held Din’s gaze once again. “May the Force be with you.” The Jedi’s eyes fell to yours briefly before landing back on the child. “Beware your attachments, young one. They can be your downfall. Even the best Jedi have fallen because of them.”

“You sound like a friend of mine….”

He turned to walk away with Grogu, but not before you caught the smirk starting up his face. “They sound wise.”

“She is. A Jedi herself, actually. Or used to be. Ahsoka Tano, taught me how to jump-” You shook your head. “It’s not important.” You huffed, shaking your head again when you saw Din turn to look at you out of the corner of your eye. “I meant she talks in riddles.”

“Every great Jedi does.”

“So I’m learning.” You grinned. Looking into Grogu’s eyes one more time as you waited for the door to close, you winked at him, a soft grin pulling up your face. “Goodbye, kid. Don’t eat all the frogs.” He blinked at you with a gentle huff. “Be good.”

You could swear he smiled gently as he tilted his head to the side. He knew what you meant. Be good, yes, don’t cause trouble, but also be good, do your best. Show them what you’ve got.

Images of that first dream the two of you shared flashed through your mind. In the Temple where you covered him, your shadow giving him hope in a dark time, the vision giving you hope on your own difficult days.

“Kar'taylir darasuum. I’ll always love you. I have since before we met, ad’ika.” (“To know in the heart forever.”)

Din lifted his chin in acknowledgment toward the child, the motion blurring in your peripherals through unshed tears right before the elevator slid closed.

You hesitated, taking in a sharp breath before whispering one last word through the Force. “Goodbye.”

As the elevator at the end of the hallway closed, shutting off the last chapter of his story, Din let out a sigh.

Repeating your words from earlier when you first sensed Grogu on the cruiser, they now felt hollow somewhere deep in your chest as you sensed him drifting further away. “He’s going to be okay.” Silence hung heavy in the air, filling the void in your heart with cold, vacant fingers that gripped it tight. “We’re going to be okay.”

Din nodded once, the motion stilted in your peripherals, his voice quiet. “I know.”

Darting your eyes down to his helmet on the floor, you bent down and picked it up, gripping the cool beskar tightly as you stared down at it, careful to not look at his reflection on its shiny surface as he turned toward you.

The rest of the party shuffled out of the bridge, Cara dragging a mumbling Gideon with her. You tried to look at him, but Din’s hand on your chin pulled you back toward him before you could. Swallowing roughly, you stared at his chest piece, blinking once, twice before Bo-Katan’s voice made you let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I’ve programmed the ship to land on- Well, that’s not important. Our temporary base of operations until we take back Mandalore. Things are about to change now that you have the Darksaber. We….” She sighed. “We should talk.” After a moment of silence, she started walking out of the room. “We’ll be back on the transport. Meet us there when you’re ready to head…. Wherever it is you’re headed.”

The door slid closed after her, leaving the two of you alone in the bridge, surrounded by silence, aside from a few beeping panels as the ship slipped through space.

You could feel Din’s eyes on you, his hand still gently under your chin as he tried to tip your head back to look up at him.

Shutting your eyes quickly as he angled your head back, you kept them closed tightly, extending his helmet toward him. “Here.”

The weight of the helmet was removed from your hands wordlessly, before you heard the thud of it resting on the floor again, your eyebrow cocking in question.

Your breath caught in your chest when his own warm breaths fanned across your face, dangerously close to where you’d thought about him being too many times. Out of instinct your hands wound up into his cowl to pull him the last few inches closer until you were basically one being, every bit of him a part of every bit of you.

Continuing up around his neck, your hands tentatively curled up into his hair, threading through the mess and earning a heavy sigh against your face, his forehead falling against yours softly.

Unable to help yourself, your hands continued exploring, pulling forward onto his face, mapping his features under your fingertips. Holding his cheeks in your hands, you smiled, a soft laugh of relief breaking through before suddenly the distance disappeared and his lips were on yours.

It was tentative and chaste, every bit what a first kiss usually is, but conveyed so much more than you expected, making your breath stop altogether.

Pulling apart tentatively, lips still ghosting over one another’s, something passed in the silence, an unspoken understanding, before you both surged forward into a deeper kiss, letting it say everything that needed to be said. Everything that was being felt, every burden and elation. The sadness and relief. The complete and utter peace. It was consuming and yet not enough all at once.

Separating just enough to keep your foreheads joined, you took a deep, shaking breath, swallowing roughly as you kept your eyes closed tight, a smile beginning to twist its way back up your face. Still cradling his cheeks, his hands on your hips kept you held close, his thumbs tracing lazily back and forth.

He speaks, and your world stops. Your breathing turns rapid, your heart is about to climb out of your chest, and your stomach twists in some weightless way.

“Open your eyes, mesh’la.”

You’d heard his voice unmodulated many times, but for some reason, this time it caught you off guard, and you couldn’t find the words to respond.

You pulled away just a bit, mouth opening and closing but nothing came out. Your eyebrows narrowed in confusion, eyes still tightly closed.

Din reached up and put his gloved hands over yours on his face gently, pressing them down, threading his fingers through yours and clutching them tightly, the leather of his gloves creaking as he did. He spoke quietly, his voice nearly a whisper as he said it again, almost pleadingly.

“Open your eyes.”

Xxx

Tags to come!

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writerinparadox · 4 months

Text

Oh yes, Bsd. I have been wanting to write about my ideas regarding the characters of the series for a long time, and what better than with a café AU?

◇ Characters : Ranpo Edogawa!

— Coffee!MaleReader x BSD

◆ "Working in the new cafeteria, you receive a somewhat... sugary order."

Wow... It sure was exhausting to work, being you, a slacker. It really didn't seem to be the most suitable or comfortable for you, but, you were aware that you couldn't just walk away from work as you did before, especially when your dear friend, F/N, is the boss.

You let out a clearly exhausted sigh as your hands, still active, moved fluidly. Each new day at the coffee shop is a new challenge, you select the beans carefully, grind the coffee with precision and prepare the cup of the order as if it were the only one of the day.

Letting out a slight hum as you listen to the coffee pot roar to a familiar tune, moving as if the sound had called to you, you end up picking up the pot as you notice the strange addition to the order that you hadn't noticed before.

Why so much sugar?

Almost instinctively, you squinted, curious about the extravagant addition. You understood that some people might like their coffee a little sweeter, but with the amount of sugar it called for... It only left you thinking about one thing.

It had to be a joke, right?

Wasn't it?

Almost as if the spoonfuls of sugar you were pouring in were burning you alive, you did as it was written, hoping and almost begging some being watching you, that you wouldn't end up with an angry person because of the addition they ordered.

You moved the spoon trying to beat a little large amount of sugar without moving it too much to avoid spreading the coffee a little. Only to pick up the order and read the name of the coffee buyer.

Before bothering to call him you noticed how a boy with green eyes, black hair and a brown cap was looking at you with curiosity, apparently waiting for his coffee, maybe you had not made it yet? You doubted that, since you had noticed him a while ago and you usually didn't take so long with coffees.

"Is Ranpo here?"

Focusing on finishing this order, you hurried to ask for the buyer out loud, just as you had done with the previous coffees you had made.

"Here."

"Oh, take your coffee with 8 tablespoons of sugar...."

It was the same guy you had noticed before, now visualizing him with a name, Ranpo, he received the coffee with a giant smile, as if he was pleased that they had actually added the spoonfuls of sugar. You could have sworn you saw just a few seconds of the way he looked at the coffee before taking a sip.

"To think I almost regretted coming in here, considering the small variety of sweets available at the counter." You squinted almost instinctively when you heard him speak.

"Excuse me?"

"You are excused." There was really no way to even try to understand this strange talk you were having. It would be best to just leave the conversation there. Lucky for you, you still have to continue making coffees.

As if in silent agreement, you nodded once in his direction, only to end up being greeted by the same action from him.

Finally, you had turned to walk towards your present co-worker, receiving the next order and getting ready to work properly, though of course, still, with the reminder of what had just happened.

He was lost, Ranpo was walking through the streets of Yokohama looking for a stable place to wait for one of his colleagues, free, to come and look for him.

Although, he had said he was going for candy, it was not his fault to go the wrong way, it is a big city and besides he just wanted to look for a new place to waste, to take advantage of his money in the best way, buying candy.

He is a detective at first, obviously he needs to have enough sugar to be able to work properly, every detective mostly needs sugar to work, and who better than him, one of the best detectives in Yokohama?

With his hand in his pockets, as he searched for an ideal place worth entering, in his vision, he caught a glimpse of a cafeteria that, he deduced, looked like it was recently opened and welcomed by a high quality of customers.

And obviously, since it's a coffee shop, it should have sweets, right?

His idealization at the fact that it would probably have a large amount of sweets completely clouded his judgment, causing him to enter without hesitation, despite naming himself the best detective in the world, he just ended up with a sad reward, there wasn't even a variety of sweets, being only a few that were there

Sighing in annoyance, he ordered a sugary coffee, just for the purpose of what minimum to get something good from the place.

Ordering without problems with the lady that attended, he went to sit in one of the seats, looking at the decoration and the good atmosphere that there was, well, it was not like the cafeteria that was near the Agency, but it would serve to pass the time in what they came to look for him.

He looked at the boy in charge of the coffees, precisely how he made his own, observing and counting how he poured the extra spoonfuls he had asked for, letting a slight smile show with only the frame of his lips at the fact that he really added the extra ordered.

He did not avoid getting up beforehand wanting to ask for the sweetened coffee that you put on the table where you delivered the coffees, hearing his last name, leaving his lips, he did not avoid feeling happy about it, walking towards your direction while you waited for him to make his presence known. If you already felt the slight nervousness at having to hear his last name, coming from the lips of that stranger as coordinated as if it was made to call him.

Now he just hoped he didn't end up making a bad impression. Which he did, but not as bad as he thinks, surely he would have to return to this coffee shop to be able to leave a better impression, he's not the best detective for nothing, is he?

Surely, if he does it better the second time, he will be able to deduce whether this cafeteria was worth his time.

#bsd x reader #ranpo edogawa #bsd #bsd ranpo #ranpo x reader #ranpo x you #cafeteria #alternate universe

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wr-n · 2 months

Text

Bleeding Trail

A Snare and Tag fic

683 words TW: Abuse, unsympathetic character, hurt/no comfort, blood, mention of past abuse

[PLEASE BE CAREFUL]

Blood stains slowly drip down the drain, their plip-plip-plips echo around the bathroom walls. The sink below him was dyed a caution orange, matching the small trickle from his nasal passage.

"A...ngh..." He bit his tongue to suppress the whimper clawing up his throat. He felt pitiful like all the other times he was here. But he couldn't linger, no, he couldn't tempt another punishment for being away. ____________________________________________________________

"What were you doing?" Snare snipped at him, suspicious eyes zeroing in on his form in the hallway. Tag had to swallow thickly to clear the anxious clog in his throat, "I w-was just c-cleaning my f-face."

They stood in tense silence then, but it took mere moments before Tag's mind broke down and started self-destructing. His eye lights waver as his vision swims, his body quaking like he’d suddenly caught a seizure. Please, please don’t hurt me, is all his mind could conjure up amidst the maelstrom of paralyzing fear.

He felt the beginnings of a scream claw up his throat like a wild animal desperate for escape before something snapped his head to the side. It was a moment before his sight cleared and registered that he had been slapped across the face.

“Fucking pull it together. And don’t take so long next time or I’ll give you a real reason to lose your shit.”

____________________________________________________________

Newly motivated by the memory, he reached for the roll of toilet paper and with trembling hands cleaned the blood from his face and clothes. A stain he no doubt would have to try and get out later when Snare let him be.

He made quick work of it and moved down the hall once more to see his abuser on his phone in the kitchen. He must’ve been too busy with whatever he was doing on it because Tag’s arrival hadn’t caught his attention. Tag lowered his head and moved to sit on the floor beside the stool Snare sat on, barefoot on the icy floorboards. If he had gone anywhere else, he was sure to invite more bruises.

The last time he sat in a chair was just before moving in, and then was promptly ‘educated’ once Snare was sure he’d never be able to run away. He was almost ready to spiral when a large warm hand settled on his head and his body grew rigid. What was it this time? Did he do something? Was he going to be punished again?

“Did you do your chores?”

Tag scrambled and desperately pulled at the memories to see if he had. No, he was sure he had. He always did.

“Y-Y-Yes. I-I did them like you told me t-to…”

A pause and then a hum. Uh oh.

“Like I told you to? You mean if I go in there and find them done wrong, you’re going to blame me?”

The grip on his hooded skull tightened and caused a sob to escape Tag’s throat. Fuck, no, that wasn’t what he meant.

“N-No, I w-w-would never blame you…! I-I just did them w-wrong…” He rasped desperately, eyelights fizzling into scattered particles in his mania. If he messed this up- god, he already did, didn’t he? He should just get hit now and get this over with.

But the silence was far worse than the pain that accompanied it, a firm impact to his skull left Tag’s thoughts scattered across the dining room floor. Stars dance in his vision as he tipped forward and caught himself from planting his face in the wood.

“.... Make me something to eat”, as all he said.

And that was all he needed to say for Tag’s body to go into autopilot. His mind was spiraling but his body knew the way. By the time he was functional again, he had finished eggs and sausage. He blinked dumbly down at the sizzling pan before plating the food and placing it in front of Snare.

… Maybe he’ll like the food this time.

… Maybe he won’t put his hand in the pan this time.

… Maybe he’ll let him sleep tonight.

[End.]

Phew! It's been a while since I've written a story, sorry it was short. I hope this was fun for some of you to read ^^

#wraith notes #wraith writes #Snare #Tag #abuse #unsympathetic character

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jokersfangirl84 · 8 months

Text

Words Get in the Way

A Frankie Morales x F! Reader Fic

Chapter Three

Pairing: Francisco "Catfish" Morales x F! Reader

Summary: Four weeks have passed since Frankie came back to your place and made love to you for the first time after you both confessed your true love for one another, becoming more than friends. Afterwards he was called out for a mission to Colombia which was supposed to have only lasted a few days. You haven't heard from him in hours on the day he's scheduled to come home and you begin to think he's not returning. He introduces you to some interesting bedroom escapades you have never before experienced, and unveils some of his own personal kinks he'd been hiding for years. He has also brought you a rather unorthodox gift...with an unusual proposition...

Word Count: 5800+

Warnings/Ratings: M-Explicit! SMUT! SMUT! SMUT! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER 18! Nothing But smut!! Hooooooooo boy. I went out of control on this one. There are full descriptions of PIV Sex, unprotected sex (although I do strongly suggest wrapping it up), multiple orgasms, vaginal/anal fingering, oral sex (f! receiving), shower sex, sex against the wall, doggy style sex, hair pulling, spanking, rough sex (nothing too intense), kissing, touching, masturbation, dom/sub dynamic, dirty talk, vulgarity, profanity, TONS of F-bombs with which I may have gone overboard, several mentions of cock, pussy, ass. Mentions of possible past trauma. There are sprinkles of sweetness, worry, love, doing anything for the person with whom you're in love. Characters call each other "Baby" and "My Love" many times throughout.

Author's Notes: OH MY GOD. YALL. I have done a VERY bad thing. I should be ashamed. This is the dirtiest, sleaziest, horniest, smuttiest, filthiest thing I have ever written in my entire life. This makes Chapter 2 look very tame. Frankie is a very naughty, filthy boy in this. He hasn't seen his girl in weeks so he is feeling rather.....*ahem*....anxious. I can't believe I wrote this. I basically didn't hold back & let it all out & poured my heart and soul into it. This took me three months to finish because I kept doubting it would be any good. I kept getting in my feels; not only from the content itself but from being unable to convince myself I was any good at writing. I didn't think I ever would get it completed & almost gave up but I knew that wasn't an option. I really enjoyed writing this once I got in the groove & stopped overthinking everything. I want to thank all my wonderful friends for their encouragement & to all the incredibly talented writers out there whose material I turned to for inspiration and motivation. Y'all are amazing! I hope you enjoy this and hope it makes you feel the things you want to feel. Happy reading! Thank you for all your support!

Side Note: there's an unexpected twist! Not gonna say where but it's in there!

Below are the links for Chapters 1 & 2! Enjoy!

Stay tuned for Chapter 4!

Thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this! I appreciate you so much!

Feedback is welcome!

Reblogs & likes are loved and appreciated!

Thank you to my besties @popcornforone @salgal78 @princessjenn420 and @fatimaisabelpascal for all your love, advice and encouragement to keep me writing and going forward with my ideas! I wouldn't have finished this chapter without you guys' precious support! I love you so much! @harriedandharassed @sherala007 you asked to be tagged in chapter 3 so here you go! Please enjoy!

(Reader's POV)

You stood in the shower letting the steaming water flow carelessly over you, resisting the impulse to have an emotional breakdown. There'd been no contact from Frankie since he last texted you saying his plane landed, his luggage was located, and he was on his way. That was four hours ago. You called him repeatedly; straight to voicemail each time. No replies to your frequent "where are you?" "are you okay?" texts to him. You even contacted Pope, Redfly, Ironhead, and Benny asking about his whereabouts. No one had heard from him since deboarding the plane and going their separate ways. Panic began settling in. Sinister thoughts crowded your mind:

He isn't returning to you. He has changed his mind. He has taken Erica back or found someone else. He made love to you, gave you what you wanted, and now he has nothing to do with you.

You shook your head, silently telling yourself not to think that way. Frankie would never treat you in such a manner. He is not that person. He has always been there for you. He meant every word he said when he told you he loves you.

You still wondered where the hell he was, and why he wasn't replying to you. Maybe he stopped to get a bite to eat and left his phone in the car. Maybe he decided to go to his place first for a nap and forgot to set an alarm. Convincing yourself these were plausible reasons for his absence helped you push the negative thoughts aside. You continued scrubbing the sweat and grime off your body accumulated from cooking dinner and cleaning your apartment all day, preparing for Frankie's arrival. You haven't seen him in four weeks and you needed to get a shower in before he showed up.

(Frankie's POV)

Frankie arrived at your apartment fifteen minutes after your shower started. He let himself in, setting his black duffel bag on the sofa. Your apartment smelled like fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies, his favorite. A full two dozen waited for him on the stove. Sitting on the counter was a crockpot full of boiling homemade stew. The rumbling hunger in his stomach intensified. He hadn't eaten much all day, only the unsatisfactory meals on the plane. He couldn't wait to get to your place knowing you'd have something fantastic prepared for him.

"I'm here, Baby. Where's my girl?" You were nowhere to be found. Not in the living room, not in the kitchen. He could hear music coming from the bathroom down the hall, hear the faint roar of the shower running, see steam clouds seeping through the barely cracked-open door, smell your floral body wash. He pushed it open wider, peeking inside.

"Baby, it's me." No reply. You were too busy singing along to your favorite tune to hear him. He stiffened against his jeans when he heard your angelic voice; saw your nude silhouette behind the glass door. The idea of surprising you and making you scream the way he did on the sofa a few weeks ago popped into his mind. His brain constantly replayed the events of that night. He loved the sounds he was able to coax out of you as he fucked you for the first time after years of longing. Loved how his name rolled off your tongue, how your nails felt digging into his skin, how your worlds collided when you confessed your true feelings for each other. He could still feel you clenching around him as he made you cum. God, he wanted-no, needed more of this. He needed you.

Knowing how much you disliked having your personal space invaded made him change his mind about joining you. He closed the door and made his way back to the living room, making a pit stop in the kitchen to grab a few cookies, consuming them in seconds. He made himself comfortable in the recliner, closed his eyes, pulled his cap down, hands resting on his belly, fingers interlocked. His body felt limp with exhaustion, in great need of rest. He was beyond relieved to be back in the States. This extra-long trip to Colombia had been a nightmare. The mission was only scheduled to have lasted three days. Plans went astray in every possible way: flights were delayed, vehicles broke down, the group received inadequate pay (even after being promised a much larger sum; the main reason the job was taken), desperate measures were executed by the guys during an ambush.

Your soothing singing, the only noise filling the entire dwelling, urged him to fall asleep. Images of what you looked like in the shower appeared behind his eyelids; the soapy water trailing down your body, over your breasts and erect nipples, down your stomach, between your thighs as you glided your favorite loofah over your skin. Your soft, delicate hands massaging their way through your hair. You pleasuring yourself with the hand-held shower nozzle while thinking of him....his name on your lips...begging to be fucked....

He began sleepily palming himself through his pants. He wondered how much time you had left in the shower. You were notorious for making them last longer than necessary. He opened his belt and zipper and wrapped a hand around his already-hard cock, flicking his index finger over his leaking tip, giving himself a couple of languid strokes, almost in a deep sleep. The more he pictured you being wet, naked, and vulnerable, the faster his strokes became. He was on the verge of climaxing when his eyes shot open, coming to a realization.

Wait a minute. Why the fuck am I doing this? There is someone who can take care of your needs...and she's only a few feet away…

He climbed out of the recliner and made his way to the bathroom. Fuck it. He was going to join you whether you liked it or not.

(Reader's POV)

You were rinsing the shampoo out of your hair when you thought you felt an unusual cool breeze behind you. You shrugged it off, knowing the shower door had a tendency to slide open a little on its own. The feel of large, familiar masculine hands on your shoulders startled you; soft fingertips pushing your hair aside allowing luscious lips to kiss the back of your neck. You turned around and saw Frankie standing in the shower with you, his lips slightly parted, a few water droplets mapping his bare chest. His cock big and swollen, in need of attention.

"Hi, Baby." He grinned. "Stop ogling me. I need to kiss you now."

You didn't realize your head was cocked to one side, and you were smiling. "I'm not ogling you, My Love. I'd call it...admiring the craftsmanship."

He snorted, running both hands through his misty hair. "Craftsmanship, huh? Since you put it that way, I'll let you look a little longer."

You took a moment to admire him, your eyes slowly following his physique from head to toe. Damn, what a sight he is. His lean, virile 5'11" frame was held up by strong legs, long torso, wide shoulders, and most glorious neck. His hair is just past regulation length, unruly strands tickling his eyes. The subtle thickness of his waistline and uneven beard - perfect imperfections - making your heart swell with even more love for him. He's the most beautiful man you've ever seen. The kind of man you want to touch constantly but are afraid to do so; he's such an immaculate, delicate work of art.

You noticed he had a fresh, deep six-inch long scar on his left pectoral near his collarbone. You stepped closer to him, placing your fingertips next to the scar.

"Frankie! What is this?!" You tried to conceal the worry in your voice. "Did this happen on the mission? What happened?"

A plethora of scars decorated his chest, abdomen, arms, even on his hands. Cuts, scratches, and bruises of various shapes and sizes. This particular wound, however, looked recently inflicted, like it came from a blade.

"Don't worry about it" was his sharp response. He put his hands up in front of him. "Trust me, it's nothing major. A little mishap is all it is."

"Is every scar you have a mishap? Are they from.....her? What are you not telling me?"

You knew mentioning Erica would strike a nerve in him. You weren't intending to be crude; only genuinely concerned about what he'd been through, who or what had hurt him. He had mentioned nothing to you about being injured. There was evident pain behind his eyes.

He tensed up. Jaw clenched. Hands on hips. He licked his lips and swallowed hard.

"Baby, please. Don't. Now is not the time."

You put your hands on his face pushing his long bangs away from his eyes. His cheeks were red hot; it wasn't from the water temperature. "It's not my objective to trigger you, My Love. I'm just cur-"

"-I said drop it." His voice had become low and minatory. "I never discuss my scars with anyone, including you."

His words stung a little. You hung your head, your eyes now giving the floor attention. This is the man you love, your best friend. You want to know everything about him. Want him to feel comfortable pouring his heart out to you and tell you all his deepest, darkest secrets without judgment. As long as you've known him you knew he was never one to discuss feelings. You hoped being in an actual relationship with him would make him feel like an open book.

Frankie put a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze back to him. "I'm sorry, Baby. I didn't mean to snap at you." His voice returned its softness. "Believe me, I want to tell you about my scars as much as you want to know about them. I will. I promise. The time will come."

You nodded and smiled. "Yes, My Love. Understood."

"Please can I kiss you now?" His eyes bolted from your eyes to your lips. "Those lips are looking awfully lonely."

You laughed. "You don't have to ask."

Frankie gently pushed you up against the shower wall, enveloping your mouth in a passionate, desirous kiss. His hands were on your breasts, thumbs flicking across your nipples, fingers massaging the soft flesh. You both were now directly under the shower head, the warm water cascading down your faces, mixing with your lips and tongues. Ripples flooded your body when you felt his hard tip pressed against you, making you yearn for him even more.

"I missed you", he said between kisses. "I know I should've been here earlier. Fuckin' truck wouldn't start after I finally located it in the parking lot. Took me an hour to find someone to give me a boost."

You ran your hands through his hair. "I missed you too, My Love. I tried calling you several times. Every time you didn't answer I kept thinking something terrible happened to you."

His face was now in your neck. "I'm sorry, Baby. Besides my truck issues, I lost my damn charger at the airport. Couldn't find a replacement. Then the fuckin' phone died as soon as I hit the interstate." The irritation in his voice was apparent.

"My goodness, Love. Sounds like you've had a hell of a day. Let me give you what you need." You lifted one of your legs, wrapping it around his waist, moving your body closer to his trying to maneuver him inside of you. He pushed your leg down, laughing. "Needy little thing aren't you! But not yet, Baby. There's something else I'd like to do to you first."

You looked up at him, pouting and whimpering. He smirked, waving his index finger in front of your face and shaking his head. "No, none of that. We need to establish some rules. You must be a good girl, or you'll get nothing."

You raised an eyebrow. A faint, imperceptible smile overtook your lips. "Ooooh, rules, Frankie? To make sure I'm a good girl for you? I thought you liked my neediness."

His smirk grew wider. "Of course I do, Baby. But patience is a must. Good, obedient girls get rewarded. Bad girls get punished."

You shot him a deer-in-the-headlights look. "Punished? How? Frankie, what the hell are you talking about?"

He winked at you. "No time for explanations now. You'll find out later."

Before you could ask any more questions he dropped to his knees, pressing his hands on the inside of your thighs, pushing them further apart. His face was now inches from your pussy. You gasped when you realized what he had in mind.

"No! Not that!" You tried to push his head away. He looked up at you, brow furrowed. "No? Why not? If memory serves me correctly, didn't you say last time I was here you wanted us to do everything?" His expression relaxed, eyes full of concern. "Or...wait- is this not something you like?"

You turned away from his gaze, blushing. "I...actually- no one has ever performed it on me."

You felt ashamed for admitting to someone who sets your soul alight as much as Frankie does that you'd never had a man taste you.

He grinned, the darkness of his eyes deepening. "Is that so? Hmmm...." He rubbed his chin, one hand still on the inside of your thigh. "You know what I think? I think that's because you've never had a real man, Baby. All the guys you've dated are pussies. Pussies who don't eat pussy."

You giggled. He's such a smartass. But he wasn't wrong. None of your past relationships ever cared about pleasing you. It was always about what they wanted: pounding into you uncomfortably, flopping on top of you like a fish, climaxing within minutes and leaving you unsatisfied, unfulfilled. Frankie Morales was the complete opposite. He made you feel like your needs, your satisfaction, was more important than his own; as if his main goal was to take care of you. He was patient. He made you feel wanted.

"I've been thinkin' about this sweet pussy all day. Gotta taste it. Please, Baby, can I?" Rivers of shower water snaked their way down his face flattening his thick locks. His eyes still connected with yours.

Those damn puppy dog eyes.

He was quite aware of your inability to resist them; they made you absolutely weak. You nodded anxiously, realizing how foolish it was to deny him anything. Especially anything sexual. "Yes", you breathed. "Yes, My Love, please!"

Frankie spread your folds with two fingers, licking his lips. God, you were glistening. "Fuckin' look at that, would you. So prompt and prepared. So wet for me. Exactly how I like my girl to be." He circled his tongue around your clit -just once- before licking the inside of your folds, furiously lapping up your trickling arousal. Two fingers from his other hand pushed inside of you, curling, bending. You threw your hands into his hair letting out a long, plaintive whine.

"Fuckin' delicious," he breathed, not looking up. He took his fingers out, put them in his mouth, and inserted them back inside you. He moved them in and out while endlessly flicking his tongue across your clit, making you whine louder. He took his fingers out once more, but instead of putting them in his mouth, he put them in yours.

"Taste it," he demanded, moving them around the circumference of your mouth, now looking up at you. "Taste how sweet you are."

You followed orders, both hands gripping his forearm and wrist, wrapping your lips around his fingers. You swirled your tongue around the digits, bobbing your head up and down as if you were fellating him, all the while the two of you keeping eye contact.

"Fuck that's sexy." He took his fingers out of your mouth, put them in his own, savoring the taste briefly, and put them back in yours, instructing you to keep sucking. He turned his attention back to your pussy. You moaned and closed your eyes, feeling his tongue inside you moving up and down quickly. You sucked on his fingers harder; your hands gripping his wrist and forearm so tightly your knuckles were turning white. The feel of his tongue deep inside your hole, while he rubbed your clit with his other hand, made you nearly lose consciousness from the pleasure. So many things were happening to you at once; all your senses and emotions at play. You couldn't tell if the sounds you were hearing were yours or his. No coherent thought could be produced.

"Come on, Baby, show me," he said, swiping his tongue through your folds. "Show me - swipe - what - swipe - this pussy - swipe - can do."

The movements of his fingers against your clit quickened; his glorious tongue exploring every nook and cranny, no inch left untasted. The fingers previously your mouth now driving into your pussy at such speed your legs shook. He took his index finger and thumb and pinched your overstimulated clit, wrapping and sucking his lips around the sensitive bud.

"Frankie! What are you doing to me! Oh my God!"

Your body jolted as you felt a massive outpouring of your juices, reaching the pinnacle of desire. A loud wail trailed out of your throat; the pleasure hitting you like a freight train. You held your hands up near your face, shaking, trembling, looking down at the frenzy between your legs.

"Good girl! Best pussy I've ever tasted." He stood up, wiping your mess off his face - it was everywhere - with the back of his hand and licking it off. "That was fuckin' incredible. Gonna fuck you now. You earned it. Ready?"

You nodded, breathless, fighting for air after what you'd just experienced. "Pl-please. I'm always ready for you, My Love."

Your scenery changed in a flash. Frankie flipped you around to where you were now facing the shower wall; your stomach and chest pressed against the cold, wet tile. He stood behind you, his hands on your hips, his cock nudging your entrance.

"Put your palms against the wall, Baby. Stick your ass out. Spread those legs for me."

You followed instructions. He kept one hand on your hip, the other gripping your shoulder as he thrust into your drenched pussy with a low, rough grunt. He began pounding into you without giving you a chance to adjust to his length, knocking even more air out of your lungs.

"Fuck yes, Baby. This is how I always wanted to fuck you. All those nights I stayed over and fucked my fist to the thought of you. This is what I imagined us doing."

All you could do was close your eyes and moan at what you were hearing. You knew he jerked off many times when he spent the night at your apartment. He is a man, after all. But never in a million years did you think it was you getting him off.

"Frankie...oh fuck..." His thrusts were endless. You reached behind you to touch him, eager to feel hot, wet skin and muscle beneath your fingers. He grabbed your hand and pressed it back in its place against the wall.

"No, no, Baby. Keep your hands where I can see them."

Your eyes shot open as one of his great hands came in contact with your ass with a loud, wet slap, causing your body to lurch forward.

That's gonna leave a mark.

"Oh, shit!" You glanced back at him over your shoulder, keeping your hands in place.

"Umm....Frankie? What...was...that?"

"You know what it was." He slapped your ass again, this time on the other cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lip as the pain bloomed across your body. You didn't want to admit it but the stinging sensation felt spectacular; so much better than the playful slaps he gave you when you were just friends.

"Fuck yes! More, Frankie, more! Please!"

"Ah, so you do like having your beautiful ass spanked. Filthy girl." He obliged, slapping your ass harder than before; his thrusts never ceasing. He still gripped your shoulder, fingers digging into your flesh. "Come on. Move, Baby, move," he demanded. "Don't make me do all the work."

You weren't exactly clear on what he meant at first, or what was bringing on this behavior. But you'd be damned if you denied you liked it. Your countless fantasies about him almost always involved him dominating you, spanking you, tying you up, making you beg for him, calling you dirty names, doing nasty, obscene, disgusting things to you, putting you in positions that would make even a contortionist shudder. In reality, your sweet Frankie would never be into such things. He would be downright embarrassed at what you wanted him to do to you.

Apparently, you were wrong.

You looked back at him, confused.

"I...I...don't...uh...what?"

Both hands moved to your sides and pulled you closer to him, making back and forth motions.

"Like this, Baby. Come on, don't be shy." His saccharine voice set your mind at ease. "Let me and help me take good care of you."

Realizing what he was asking you to do you rocked your body back into him, taking him fully all the way to the base; coarse, wet hairs tickling your ass. Frankie trailed his fingers up and down your spine; those large hands so soft it felt like he wasn't even touching you at all.

"Yeah, Baby. Just like that. Show me how I'm making you feel."

Your impassioned mewls and sighs increased as you moved back and forth faster, your ass crashing into his hips making him groan and pant. Even through the bellow of the falling water you could hear the inappropriate sounds of your wet bodies smacking against one another. You threw your head back, not caring that the tepid stream was hitting you directly in the face.

"Frankie...I've never done it this way...you feel...so...fucking...good."

His cock gliding against your walls, along with the fact he was doing things to you that you'd only dreamed about, had you gasping for the breath he had taken away from you.

"So do you, Baby. So goddamn tight. Jesus fuckin' Christ."

He coiled his hands through your hair giving it a gentle tug, looking down at the junction of your bodies. "God I missed this pussy. I never want to go this long without it again."

"Me too, My Love." You uttered a pleased hum. "God I love the way your cock feels inside of me. My pussy felt so empty without it."

He chuckled. "Tell me something, Baby. Do you always want to be fucked like this?"

Nodding was the only response you could give; words stolen by sobs and wails as he moved his hips against your ass faster.

"Did you mean it when you said you'd do anything for me?"

Nod.

"Were you being truthful in saying you'd always dreamed of belonging to me?"

Nod.

He slapped your ass once more, a hand still in your hair, making you shriek as he tugged harder.

"Words, Baby!" Slap. "Vocalize!" Slap. "I need to hear you say it!" Slap.

You were definitely going to have handprints on your ass later.

"Yes!" You wheezed. "My Love, Yes! I want to belong to you! Fucking own me!"

The way you moaned those last two words made him laugh. "You want me to own you, you say?"

"Yes!" you answered without hesitation. "In every sense of the word!"

His lips curled into a pleased smile. "Good girl. That's the answer I was expecting." He let go of your hair and spun you around to where you were now facing him.

"Hold on to me, Baby. It's okay, I got you." He placed his hands under your thighs and picked you up effortlessly, pinning you against the shower wall with his body. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your ankles crossed, one arm flung around his neck, the other clutching his shoulder. Within seconds he was back inside you fucking you like his life depended on it, his vigorous thrusting forcing your body up and down, lifting, falling. His face deposited in your neck, licking, kissing, sucking every inch of skin between your neck and shoulder. You tilted your head back, eyes closed, mouth open, desperate cries filling your tiny bathroom. You're so full of him, his cock so deep inside you touching every nerve, every tendril, every fiber, every corner. The head of him pressing the switch within you that made you lose all modesty, all control.

"Oh, God, yes! Harder, My Love! Harder!" You were basically shouting the words. "Fuck me like you own me!"

He growled and hissed in your ear as the brutality of his thrusts intensified. His fingers and hands squeezing your skin so tightly you were certain you'd be left with marks, bruises, fingerprints. The pain, the pleasure; it was all equally too much and not enough. It was fucking magnificent; leaving your mind in shambles.

"Yes, Baby, yes!" he panted. I fuckin' love hearing you talk this way. So fuckin' dirty."

He was now looking at you, eyes hazy with pleasure, mouth open. "Gonna cum soon, Baby. Where do you want it? Inside?"

"Yes!" You cried, locking your eyes with his. "You don't need permission! Just fuckin' do it! Cum inside me, please!"

A smile spread across his lips, a satisfied twinkle gleaming in his eye. "You are so fuckin' perfect, Baby, I swear. Fuckin' made for me." He put an index finger in his mouth and, without warning, pushed it repeatedly inside your asshole -while still fucking you into oblivion.

"Frankie!" You practically screamed his name. "That's...oh fuck...what the fuck! That's too much! I can't-"

"-You can take it, Baby. I know you can. Show me. Don't hold back."

No way was he going to make you cum twice. That was impossible; only something you'd seen in movies and TV. Something that always suspends your disbelief, making you scoff and roll your eyes. But this? Imminent. You were going to have multiple orgasms in one night for the first time ever in your life. Then he stuck another finger inside your ass. And that was it; the shot of adrenaline straight to the heart, the needle bursting the tiny pleasure-filled bubble in your stomach, the surge of electricity pulsing through your veins. You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck , fingertips kneading, clawing into the flesh of his back holding on for dear life.

Frankie gave one last forceful buck of his hips as he spilled into you, an orchestra of explicit noises and words coming from the both of you. You could feel the concoction of warm liquids between your thighs shooting up into you like fireworks. Your vision was now a swirling sea of unrecognizable colors. Your head collapsed on his shoulder, his chin on yours, chests heaving against each other's, breaths coming and going in quick intervals.

"I love you so much, Frankie" you finally managed to say after what seemed like an eternity of silence. "You make me feel things I had no idea I could feel."

You felt him smile against your neck. "I love you too, Baby. I always knew I'd be the one to broaden your horizons."

You embraced him tighter running your hands up and down his back. "I never wanted anyone like this. It's all brand new to me."

"Likewise, Baby." Frankie removed his hands from the back of your thighs and set you on your feet. You felt like a newborn fawn, legs wobbly, unable to keep your balance. You both laughed as you held on to his forearms for support until you could stand on your own. He shut the water off and opened the sliding glass door, stepping out onto the white feathery bath mat.

"Meet me in the living room after you're dressed," he said as he grabbed a towel off the bathroom door hook and gathered his clothes off the floor. "I have a surprise for you."

**************************

After changing into leggings and a spaghetti-strap shirt, you found Frankie sitting on the sofa, his phone in one hand, thumb swiping up and down in quick strokes, dark bottle of beer in the other taking long swigs, eyes never leaving the device screen. His jeans were zipped but unbuttoned, unfastened belt hanging loosely between his legs. His red T-shirt clung to his still-damp skin, portraying each sculpted muscular detail, his moist capless hair an unkempt mess, strands pointing in every direction. You stood at the end of the hallway watching him, leaning your shoulder against the wall, staring, struggling to process what had just taken place in your shower. You had difficulty wrapping your head around the fact that it actually happened; not in one of your fantasy scenarios. Frankie Morales, who you've wanted since the first day you laid eyes on him, was now your lover, your partner; your companion. The one who showed you pleasures you didn't know you wanted or needed. The one who unlocked your passion and freed your mind to explore the depths of your darkest sexual desires.

Your lover. That sounded so forbidden, so taboo.

Frankie looked up from his phone and gave you a smile, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "There's my girl. You disappeared from me. I didn't think you'd come back." He took another sip of beer and set the bottle on the coffee table. "Come on over here so I can give you your surprise."

You took the empty seat next to him. He reached into his duffel bag and pulled out a small, flat purple gift box wrapped in pink ribbon and placed it in your hands.

"This is for you, Baby. Open it."

"You bought me a gift?"

He nodded, his eyes wide and full of anticipation, an anxious smile across his lips. "Of course. You're my girl. I need to spoil you."

Inside was a thin, black leather choker necklace adorned with numerous diamond-shaped crystals. A sterling silver heart pendant hung from a small chain on the facade, and it fastened like a belt in the back. You didn't wear much jewelry, earrings occasionally. He knew this, which made it a little unclear as to why this would be a gift choice. But you found it to be beautiful. Elegant. Racy.

After a few moments it hit you; the purpose of the gift. You were his. He owns you. You belong to him. He wants it to be shown.

"Frankie, it's lovely. But...I don't wear neck-."

"-You do now," he interrupted. "I want you to wear it as a symbol of my ownership of you. You want to be mine in every possible way? Wearing this necklace will seal that deal."

You stared at the piece of jewelry in your hands, trying to believe what you had just heard; your mind devoid of words.

He scooted closer to you, putting a hand under your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. "If you think it's excessive, Baby, you don't-"

"-Yes", you answered. "I'll wear it and I'll never take it off. Whatever it takes to make you happy, My Love, I'll do it." You took the accessory out of its box, ready to put it on. Frankie eagerly took it from your hands, his eyes lighting up. "Please, let me do it."

He leaned forward reaching across you to fasten the choker, his cheek brushing against yours, lips next to your ear. "You know what this means, don't you?" He whispered once the necklace was fully around your neck. A hand trailed down your body, between your legs, inside your panties. "This pussy-this body-is mine now." His fingers started rubbing at your clit, making you cry out. "I can do whatever I want with it. Clear?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering closed. "Fraaannnkkkiiiiieeee..."

"Remember those rules I mentioned earlier?" His lips were still against your ear. "About being a good girl and getting punished for being bad? You must follow them now that you're wearing this necklace. You must obey."

He slipped a finger inside you, moving the digit so rapidly you could hear the vulgar squelching noises, making you squirm. You grabbed his arm. "Frankie!" you moaned. "Yes! I'll do whatever you say, My Love! I'm all yours!"

He grinned, his eyes rich with contentment. His lips crashed into yours, tongue delving into your mouth. Your arms found their way around his neck, your legs moving onto the sofa so you could lie on your back outstretched. Frankie lowered himself onto you, positioning himself between your legs, still dressed, lips never leaving yours, still fingering you like it would be a crime if he stopped, making you hum and whimper. The other hand caressed your still-clothed thigh and leg.

"Gonna cum for me again, are you, Baby?" he asked against your lips. "Are you gonna squirt all over my-"

There was a knock at the door, making Frankie stop the delicious makeout session and look up in confusion. He looked down at you, also perplexed.

"Expecting company?"

You shook your head.

Another knock, this time much louder.

"Want me to see who it is?"

"No, I'll get it." You stood up and made your way to the door located right next to the sofa. You opened it, and the color drained out of your face. Your heart sank.

There she was. Fucking. Erica. Hands pressed on her hips, looking as perfectly put together as always. Black hair, flawless makeup, tight dress, menacing green eyes. The only difference from when you last saw her was now she looked like there had been way too much time spent in a tanning bed and too many collagen injections in her lips. She impatiently tapped her high-heeled foot on the outside concrete floor, her mouth sewn into an angry frown.

"Where is he?" Her voice was eerily stern, lacking emotion. "I know Francisco is here somewhere. Where the fuck is he?!"

You put your finger up. "First of all, Erica, hello to you too. Second, don't come at me with that attitude. Third, what makes you think he would be here?"

Erica rolled her eyes, huffing out an annoyed sigh. "Because his fucking truck is parked out front, dumbass."

"Don't you fuckin' dare speak to her like that." Frankie growled as he walked up next to you, casually throwing his arm around your shoulder pulling you closer to him. "You lookin' for me, Erica? Well, here I am. The hell do you want?"

Erica's eyes switched between you and Frankie, looking you both up and down, noticing your still wet locks, flushed cheeks, his shirt worn inside out and unbuttoned jeans. She shook her head, her eyes on the ground, sarcastic laughter seeping through her lips.

"Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. You two fucked, didn't you?"

Frankie cleared his throat. "You shouldn't ask questions to which you know the answers."

She cut her eyes to you. "I suppose you think he's your boyfriend now? That he loves you?"

"Erica, I'm not gonna ask you again." Frankie piped in before you could give her an answer. "Why. The. Fuck. Are. You. Here?"

His acerbic tone made you take a step an inch away but he still kept his arm on your shoulder. You looked at him while he kept his eyes on Erica. His brow furrowed, lips pursed, jaw tightened, veins in his neck made their appearance, heavy breathing commenced through his nose. His other hand formed into a fist.

Erica pointed a manicured accusatory finger at him. "You. You son-of-a-bitch. You and I need to talk."

(To Be Continued....)

68 notes · View notes

rubyreduji · 10 months

Text

eat your young | the games pt 4

tags: hunger games!au, fake dating, angst, fluff warnings: death, violence, blood, depictions of almost drowning, attempts at killing self, mentions of wanting to die [i think that's it? tell me if not] wc: 6.1k an: ahhhh this chapter is one of my favs fjsdklalfk, ALSO this is the last chapter i have fully written so this fic maybe on a hiatus until i finish the series lol just a heads up

m.list

Jihoon is panicked.

He scrambles over to you and checks your pulse. It’s still there, but that doesn’t make you any more conscious. The pain in your leg must have taken you out after so much physical labor. Jihoon isn’t sure what to do, he’s not sure if there’s anything he can do.

Jihoon falls to the ground and lets himself cry. Tomorrow will be day thirteen of being in the arena. So far three of his allies have died and now you’re on the brink of it as well, and there’s nothing he can do. He can’t use survival skills like Seokmin, or think like Wonwoo, or heal like Hansol. He most definitely can’t fight like you do.

Jihoon looks down at you. You’ve given him everything. You’ve done nothing but protect him but now Jihoon wants you to stop. He doesn’t want your protection anymore, he just wants you to be okay. You’ve been through too much already in these games.

When Jihoon reaches down to touch your face, you nuzzle into his palm. Jihoon frowns. What’s going to happen to you? It’s down to the last six tributes and the careers are going to be hunting down the other three soon and Jihoon doesn’t know if he can hold them off.

For a moment, he wonders if he should just let them kill him. Let them kill the both of you and you two can go far away from here. You’ll meet up again in the afterlife and live peacefully there, together. That sounds nice. Nicer than having to stay in this arena. Nicer than you suffering anymore. Nicer than him going home without your hand in his.

Jihoon doesn’t want to win anymore. He doesn’t care what you think he can or can’t do. He doesn’t want to win if that means you die.

“Soonie,” Jihoon whispers. “What am I going to do?”

He needs Soonyoung to hear him and understand. He needs Soonyoung to fix this.

Jihoon doesn’t know when he fell asleep. He didn’t mean to but suddenly its morning and he’s opening his eyes.

“Morning Songbird.” Jihoon jumps. You’re awake. When Jihoon looks over at you, he sees you sitting against a tree, eating a roll. “Soonyoung sent a gift in the night. Woke up with a major headache and a parachute on my chest.”

Jihoon sits up and looks into the container that is sitting by your leg. Inside is a feast of foods. Jihoon grabs a roll out for himself.

“I was hoping it was, you know, medicine, but I guess this will do. Not sure how much medicine will do for my leg anymore anyways.”

You’re still rambling on when Jihoon scoots up to you and cuddles into your side. That shuts you up. “I thought you were going to die.”

You let out a harsh laugh. “You can’t get rid of me that quickly Songbird.”

“Good! I don’t want to! I need you to stay with me. Promise me you’ll stay with me to the end?” Jihoon sits up and stares at your face. Last night was emotional turmoil for him and all he wants is for you to feel the same way he does.

You cup Jihoon’s face. “Of course Songbird.” You press a kiss to his temple and Jihoon sinks back down against you. He wants to stay here forever, wrapped in your arms.

If only the Gamemakers didn’t hate him.

The ground starts to rumble again, only this time it’s a lot more intense than all of the other times before. Jihoon shakily stands on his legs, but he can barely keep himself up.

“Ji,” you call out to him. “Fuck, Ji, they’re sinking this island. I don’t know if I can swim.”

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“It’s okay. We’ll be able to make it,” Jihoon says, and he thinks he may be convincing himself more than you.

They’re closer to the center of the island, so it will take a while for the water to get to them. Jihoon does his best to stay calm and collect all the supplies and pack it away. Jihoon can see the water starting to creep closer in the distance. You’re now standing, but your knee keeps buckling and you almost keep falling.

This wouldn’t be a problem if Jihoon himself could swim, but he can’t. He attaches everything to himself, the bag, his spear, and even your axe. Jihoon has never seen you look so helpless and he feels the same way inside. You’re standing with your walking stick, worrying your lip as you stare at the water.

“Don’t worry about me Ji,” you say. “We just have to go for it. I promise we’ll be okay. We have to be.”

You start to walk to the water and the shakiness of your body doesn’t make Jihoon feel any better. He still follows after you. You slowly ease into the water, using your walking stick to push you along where the ground can still be reached.

“People can swim with one leg you know,” you tell Jihoon as you further into the water. “There was an article about a guy from District 4 who could do it.”

There’s a pain in your face and Jihoon knows your leg is killing you already. The salt water probably doesn’t make it any better. Jihoon just hopes you don’t pass out again.

Jihoon’s not sure how far away the next island is. He can only swim so long and he’s sure the time is even shorter for you. You’re making your way for now though, as the island sinks around you guys. The pace is slow, but it seems like you are able to swim with just your one leg.

Jihoon’s own swimming skills are nothing to preen about but he can keep pace with you. How embarrassing is that? He can only keep swimming pace with someone who doesn’t have a working leg.

Jihoon can see the other island. It looks closer than the swim from the first island to the currently sinking one. It’s a slow pace, but you two are slowly making your way there. Your breathing is labored though, and it concerns Jihoon.

You two are almost there when suddenly you let out a cry of pain. You’ve stopped swimming. You’ve stopped swimming and your body is starting to sink and Jihoon doesn’t know what to do. He grabs for you, but he’s not that strong and you pull him down too.

Jihoon can’t see anything. It’s darkness and water and it’s getting in his throat and he can’t breathe, but he feels you against his fingers and he knows he has to save you. Jihoon’s flailing his legs, hoping that it will do something. He kicks and thrashes and he swears some miracle happens, maybe a wave?, because suddenly he can feel the ground under his feet and he keeps going. He drags your body with him until both of you can fall to the shore.

Jihoon coughs up water and some snot comes out with it. He’s drenched and his throat burns and he realizes there’s probably water in your lungs as well. He can’t tell if you’re conscious or not but he does his best to turn you over and he slaps your back until you cough up all the water. You flop back onto the ground, your breathing heavy and slow, but you’re alive.

“T-thank you,” you mutter to Jihoon. So you are awake. “Sorry about that.”

“Not your fault,” Jihoon mutters and flops down next to you, not caring that you two are out in the open. “We survived, didn’t we?”

Jihoon thinks he could fall asleep like this. Just laying on the edge of this island.

“Congratulations tributes, for being the last six remaining.” The voice makes Jihoon jump. It takes him a second to realize it’s an announcement. “There has been a rule change. Both tributes from the same district will be declares the winners, if they are the last two alive. I repeat, if the last two standing tributes are from the same district, they will both be declared the winners. Thank you, and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

Jihoon isn’t sure if he heard that right. Two winners?

It must be real because you squeeze Jihoon’s hand. “We’re going home Ji,” you whisper to him, and well, Jihoon’s never been religious, but in this moment, Kwon Soonyoung is his god.

The island is a mountain. Or several sets of small mountains. You and Jihoon probably spent half the day laying there on the shore before he decided you two need to find shelter. You’re glad Jihoon is taking control because you don’t think you can think right now.

Your body is hot and you have a headache and you’re so tired. Jihoon has to half drag you into the cave he found. Jihoon rolls the sleeping bag out for you and you fall down onto it, your leg happy to final be able to rest.

You can hear Jihoon tutting. When you look at him, he’s looking down at your leg.

“We gotta redress your leg,” he mutters.

“Redressing wounds is pretty intimate Ji,” you tease him. The words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them. You’re not really sure what you’re doing, but your mind is also a little too fuzzy to care.

“Not too intimate for me, I’m your boyfriend remember.” Oh, oh, Jihoon is gonna tease you back and that’s not good because now your head is swimming with thoughts of Jihoon as your boyfriend. You’re not sure when Jihoon decided to start getting bold but it’s messing with your head even more than the fever is and you find him so hot right now.

Luckily some of his charm wears off when he starts to take the bandages off and keeps trying not to gag. You’re honestly in the same boat. You were too out of it the first time to see the damage, but you have to admit, it’s fucking disgusting.

You’re sure it looked even worse after it just happened. The raw meat of your leg is still pink and visible, but it’s also covered in a layer of pus. You head spins at the sight.

“I uh, think it’s infected,” Jihoon mutters. “Are you feeling sick?”

“I’ve been half delirious since we got out of the water,” you mutter. Jihoon touches your forehead and pulls back with a frown when he feels how hot you are.

“Baby, you’re burning up.”

“Yeah, cause you’re so hot.” You try to wink at him. You’re not sure if it works.

“Shit, okay. I’m gonna try and clean this off and we’ll go from there. I’ll be back, I promise I’ll be safe. Just, don’t move.”

“Wait, wait, no, please don't go, please," you beg, latching onto Jihoon’s arm. You don’t want him to go. What if there’s something dangerous out there and you can’t save him. It would be safer to have him here, with you. That’s all you ever want, for Jihoon to stay by your side always.

"It will only be for a little bit. I really have to go baby. I promise I'll be back though." Jihoon smooths down your hair and you can tell your words pain his heart, just a bit.

"No, please, please Ji, please stay." You nuzzle your head into Jihoon’s hand, and you can tell he’s really contemplating staying.

"Shhh, baby, I won't leave, okay. I'm staying right here, don't worry." Jihoon leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead and that calms you. Jihoon is staying with you. He’s staying with you and you’re never letting him leave.

“Can you sing to me?” You ask him. He’s sitting above your head and you think he looks like an angel right now, even through all of the dirt and grime.

“Yeah, yeah, I can sing to you,” Jihoon whispers. He scoots closer to you and starts to sing a song you’ve never heard him sing before. It’s pretty though and you close your eyes, at peace knowing Jihoon is with you.

At some point, you drift off to sleep.

When you wake up, your head feels clear and your leg feels better and your body is back to a somewhat normal temperature. You try to sit up, but there’s a weight on your chest and when you look it’s Jihoon’s head. You must have accidently roused him when you tried to sit up and Jihoon blinks awake.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry Songbird,” you mutter. You look down at your leg. New bandages. “You fucking liar.”

Jihoon laughs. “Anything to keep you alive.”

“Thank you,” you tell him.

“Yeah, I found a creek close by. The water is clean, but I mixed some iodine in with it anyways and poured it all over your leg. Super gross, but it’s okay because I’m a good boyfriend.” There’s that word again. Even when you’re not out of your mind, it does things to you. “I used the rest of the salve on it and then redressed it. Soonyoung then sent some injection to help with the infection.”

You’re a bit surprised Soonyoung sent something after the parachute he sent last night, but you guess that Capitol citizens like you and Jihoon. That or Soonyoung is working his ass out there, keeping up his end of the deal. Speaking of your deal with Soonyoung.

“So, the rule change. We can make it out of here.”

“I know,” Jihoon says. “So let’s do our best to stay alive.”

“There’s only one other district couple, right? The uh, District 2 boys. Jeonghan and Seungcheol.” You glare as you say their names. They’ll be the most difficult to get rid of.

“Do you think they’ll take out Mingyu?”

“The District 4 boy?” Jihoon nods. “I wouldn’t put it past them. If there’s only six of us left and he’s keeping them from winning, who knows what they’ll do.”

“All we can do is hide out here until it comes time,” Jihoon says.

You sigh. It’s going to be boring. But you guess boring is better than fighting for your life.

Things could honestly be worse. You’ve been given medicine, you have shelter, there’s food and water, and you and Jihoon can both go home.

The next couple days are plain. You’re sure the Gamemakers are gonna get antsy and all you can hope for is that the careers either take each other out or the other tribute left. You think that’s horrible, wishing for someone else to die, but it’s what has to be done to save you and Jihoon.

“Tell me a secret,” Jihoon says out of nowhere and you raise an eyebrow at him. You two have been laying low in the cave and Jihoon rarely leaves unless it’s for water. You want to get up and leave too, but you also understand you need to rest.

“A secret?”

“Yeah. You don’t want to share you secrets with me Y/N-ah?” There’s that flirty tinge to his voice and you have to look away from him.

You think about it for a moment. What do you want to tell Jihoon. “I’ve…never been kissed before. Isn’t that kind of sad? I’ve killed someone before I’ve even had my first kiss.”

“I can change that.” The words seem to slip out of Jihoon’s mouth before he realizes what he’s saying.

“O-oh?”

“Sorry, I just thought-”

“No, it’s okay. I mean, I wouldn’t mind, only if you want to though.” You don’t know if Jihoon’s playing things up for the camera, he feels bad for you, or he actually does want to kiss you. Just this once you let yourself give in to delusions and believe it’s the last option.

“I want to.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your voices are at whispers as Jihoon scoots closer to you. He hesitates for a moment before finally cupping your face softly and pulling you into him. His lips are chapped, but they feel nice. He presses up firmly against you, but there's still a tenderness to it.

You decide that you like this. You like kissing. You like being held by Jihoon. You like it all. You don't want the moment to fade but then Jihoon is pulling away from you and looking at you expectingly.

"Was that okay?"

"Yeah. It was...it was perfect," you tell him, and you think to yourself that you might be in love with Lee Jihoon.

Something that has yet to cease to amaze Jihoon is the way that you still smell like wood, smell like home, even through all the events you've been through since departing from District 7. Through Capitol soap scrubs and sea water and sweat and blood, the smell of wood is still ingrained into your skin and Jihoon thinks it might be the only reason he's able to fall asleep at night anymore. That and your arms wrapped around him.

He kissed you earlier. He kissed you earlier and you said it was perfect. You're both gross and dirty and bloody and Jihoon kissed you for the first time ever and you told him it was perfect.

He wants to do it again. He wants to keep kissing you and kissing you and never stop.

“Ji?” Your hands play with his hair as you two lay in the cave.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saving me.”

Jihoon laughs. “Me saving you? You’ve saved me more times than I can count.”

“I think my leg would have taken me out by now if it wasn’t for you. Especially while were swimming.”

“Maybe that’s our thing,” Jihoon says. There’s a warmth in his heart and he knows it’s cheesy but you really do make his heart sing. “Saving each other.”

“Yeah, I think it is.”

You two are quiet for a moment and Jihoon enjoys the way he can hear your heartbeat through your chest and the soft breaths you let out. You’re both snuggled in the sleeping bag together, waiting for sleep to take you both over.

Jihoon is just starting to feel sleepy when you speak up. “What do you think is going to happen when we get back to District 7?”

Jihoon doesn’t know if you mean in general, or specifically between you two. Jihoon answers for the latter. “We keep being us. We’ll be neighbors then, you know. I’ll see you every day if you want. I’ll sit and write music, and you can woodwork. We’ll still take walks together, if you want to.”

“Of course I do. I want to do everything with you, Ji.”

Jihoon’s heart twists. One thing Jihoon wasn’t expecting when he came up with his genius fake dating ploy was the fact he would have to pretend to fake date you, and somehow along the way he may have fallen in love with you for real.

I want to do everything with you, Ji. Jihoon wants to as well, but for real. He wants to hold your hand and kiss you and spend his days with you as your boyfriend. Your real boyfriend.

He desperately hopes you feel the same way.

Jihoon knows that if you don’t, it’s his fault. It was his stupid idea to fake date. It’s not your fault he actually fell for you.

“You know, when you first asked me out, I couldn’t believe it,” you tell Jihoon.

Oh?

Ah, you must be playing up for the camera. That’s smart. Jihoon’s gotten so caught up in just being with you, he forgot you two are technically putting on a show.

“You’ve always kind of interested me. I’d notice you in school sometimes and you already know how I feel about your music. It was like ‘wow, he actually knows who I am’. Of course we’ve interacted before, but I never thought you’d look at me in that way.”

“What do you mean? You’re literally L/N Y/N. You’re the biggest charmer in District 7, everyone loves you. It would be difficult not to fall for you. I’m just shocked no one else was vying for your heart when I asked you out. They’re missing out. I am truly a lucky man.” Jihoon means what he says. He’s surprised you don’t have more people falling at your feet to go out with you. It’s their loss though, because even if it’s fake, you’re the best partner Jihoon could ever ask for.

“The biggest charmer in District 7,” you scoff. “That’s quite a title Ji.”

“I’m not lying! You couldn’t believe I’d looked at you that way, but I’ve been looking at you like that for years. You’re so strong and confident and charismatic. Not to even mention all of your skills. I swear I used to go to the market on Fridays just to sit and watch you sell your goods. In the third to end booth, next to Joshua.”

You let out a bit of a laugh. “You have to be kidding. There’s no way that you were watching me when every time we were in the same room together, I wouldn’t be able to take my eyes off of you.”

“It’s true. Just like everyone else in District 7, I’m enamored with you.”

“Enamored? Now that’s pushing it.”

“The people adore you, you can’t deny it. You’re everyone’s favorite, while they think I’m crazy. You know, I think I should be the one surprised you even wanted to date me.”

“Why wouldn’t I? Look at you Ji, you’re perfect.”

Perfect. You called Jihoon perfect. The same way you told him his kiss was perfect. For claiming you were going to get Jihoon out of the arena alive, you’re doing a pretty good job at trying to kill him.

“I promise you Y/N, there’s people out there far more perfect than I am.”

“Not to me there aren’t. I don’t want anyone else but you Jihoon. My perfect little Songbird.”

Jihoon sits up from where his head is resting on your chest and he stares at you. You stare back. Jihoon can’t read your expression, but something in your eyes are telling him that you’re not lying. Your eyes flicker over his face before looking back at his eyes.

Jihoon’s not sure which of you lean in first, but soon his hand is cupping your face and you’ve got your hands hooked around the back of his neck. Your lips slot together perfectly against Jihoon’s and he tells himself it’s a sign.

You and Jihoon spend the rest of the night like that. Bodies tangled up, lips locked together. Even if it’s not real, Jihoon doesn’t care. Whatever happens after you two leave the arena will happen, but he has you for now, and he’s going to make the most of it.

Within the next day another cannon sounds and another island sinks. That means the only people left are you two, and the three careers. You and Jihoon inhabit the last standing island other than the one the Cornucopia sits on. Your island will be sinking soon.

The bright side of things is that your leg is doing a lot better. It’s still not doing great, but it’s the best it’s been since you initially got hurt. Enough to the point you’ll probably be able to swim if needed.

Things are coming to end. All you need to do is make sure you two are the last ones standing. Even if you are hanging on by a thread, the Capitol will fix you up and you two can go back home.

You’re a bit sad to think about going back home though. Not that you don’t miss being or that you want to stay in the games any longer, but you know that going back home means that there will be no more you and Jihoon. The thought upsets you more than you thought it would. You’ve gotten used to his presence next to you at all times and you’re afraid that once you two get back to District 7, everything will change.

A part of you wants to ask out Jihoon for real, but you’re afraid he’ll tell you no. You know that Jihoon is doing it all as a survival tactic, but you can’t help but wish it was real. You want to be able to kiss him even when you’re not being watched by all of Panem.

Maybe it’s stupid but you really are going to miss sleeping next to Jihoon every night. You’re pretty sure his presence is now an essential thing to getting you to sleep well at night.

“Y/N,” Jihoon addresses you as you two ready yourselves. You’ve decided to go confront the careers head on. No use in waiting any longer. “Promise me that no matter what, we go home together.”

You’re not sure if anyone else would pick up on what he means, but you understand him. You always have. He’s asking you not to sacrifice yourself for him if the situation would arise. Soonyoung once told you that you’re important too. Jihoon must think so as well.

You move towards Jihoon. “We go home together,” you assure him. You lean in and capture his lips against yours. It’s only for a second, but it gives you the strength you need.

Your leg is still giving you trouble but you’re able to get down to the shore and into the water easily. The only thing on either of you are your weapons, hoping things will come to an end after this fight. The swim isn’t too far but it’s still slow and you hope the careers don’t see or hear you coming. If Mingyu catches sight of you two, you’re done for.

You were ready to start fighting as soon as you stepped foot on the Cornucopia island, but when you and Jihoon approach the shore, it seems the careers are in a fight of their own. You and Jihoon are positioned at the tail of the Cornucopia, out of sight of them.

You step out to try and get a bit of a better look. Laying on the ground is Jeonghan. He looks…well he looks half dead. He’s probably not too far off from it, from the way Seungcheol and Mingyu are engaged in a fight. Seungcheol looks mad as he swings his sword at Mingyu.

“What is wrong with you? You’ve ruined everything!” Seungcheol grows as he lunges at Mingyu.

Oh. Mingyu must have attacked Jeonghan.

“I’m going to win. It doesn’t matter if he’s alive or not, because I’m going to be last one standing!” Mingyu shouts back. He’s wielding a trident expertly as he blocks Seungcheol’s attempts to attack him. “You two were going to kill me anyways. I was just able to strike before you were.”

Mingyu hooks his trident around Seungcheol’s sword and tosses it out of Seungcheol’s hand. You watch as Mingyu thrusts his trident as Seungcheol, aiming straight for his chest. You hold your breath in anticipation for the impact, but it never comes. Seungcheol reaches out and grasps the trident. Stopping it from impaling him.

With a grip on the prongs, Seungcheol twists the trident, releasing it from Mingyu’s grasp. He looks like he’s about to toss it just like his sword was, but decides last second to wield it as his own weapon. He charges at Mingyu, but Mingyu dodges the attack, moving to the side. It’s apparent Seungcheol isn’t as experienced with the weapon. Mingyu grabs the handle of the trident and the two both fight over it, tugging it towards themselves only to have the other one tug it away.

Just like Seungcheol’s sword, the trident goes flying in the air and off to the side, out of reach of either boy. Neither make a move to grab it, instead going straight for each other in a physical fight.

Your body slightly shields Jihoon’s and you know he doesn’t have a good view of what’s happening. You’re sure he gets the idea from all of the yelling happening though.

A cannon booms and you gasp softly. You look at the boys but they’re both still standing, you suddenly remember Jeonghan was laying on the ground earlier. Seungcheol must realize what you do as he quickly disengages with Mingyu and runs over to where the other boy’s body lays.

Seungcheol kneels down next to Jeonghan. He gently reaches out, touching Jeonghan’s lifeless form. When Jeonghan doesn’t respond, the rage in Seungcheol’s eyes doubles. Mingyu, who was also a bit stunned from the passing of Jeonghan, quickly recovers, approaching Seungcheol at a rapid speed.

Mingyu runs up to Seungcheol before grabbing the boy by his neck, throwing him to the ground. Mingyu climbs on top of Seungcheol and sends his fist right into Seungcheol’s nose. Seungcheol grabs at Mingyu’s arms and rolls the two over so he’s on top. Mingyu doesn’t let this happen easily though, fighting back. The two boys roll around on the ground, wrestling for the offensive position.

Seungcheol finally dominates Mingyu and slams his head against the ground. Mingyu deftly reaches up for Seungcheol’s neck, grabbing him there forcefully just like he did to Jihoon. Seungcheol struggles in Mingyu’s grip, but is able to reach for a rock close to Mingyu’s head. You wince as Seungcheol slams the rock down on Mingyu’s skull. When he pulls it back, red is splattered all over the gray stone. Seungcheol repeats the action, again, and again, and again, until the cannon goes off. Mingyu’s arms fall limp to his sides and Seungcheol lets the rock drop to the ground.

The District 2 boy is crying now. His chest is heaving as he slowly climbs off Mingyu. His hands are covered in Mingyu’s blood and his own nose is bleeding from where Mingyu decked him. He looks like a wild animal with his bloodshot, bugged out eyes and dirt covered skin. You’re sure that you don’t look too far off yourself.

Seungcheol looks around frantically and that’s when he finally spots where you and Jihoon are standing. The sight of you two ignites another fire in him and he quickly retrieves his sword before charging at you and Jihoon.

You shove Jihoon back as you lift your axe. Your blades hit against each other, and as used to swinging your axe as you are, it’s clear that Seungcheol’s combat skills are miles ahead of yours. You do your best to just stay standing on your leg as you block all of Seungcheol’s hits.

Seungcheol backs off of you and you two stand there, staring at each other, weapons still drawn.

“You killed Hansol,” you say, finally breaking the silence.

“Does it matter? He was going to die anyways. We can’t all win.”

“No, we can’t, but Jihoon and I can.”

“No,” Seungcheol growls. “If I can’t have my district partner, then neither can you.”

You swing your axe at Seungcheol, but he dodges the attack and runs straight at Jihoon.

No. No.

He can’t have Jihoon.

You bound after him. Jihoon backs up until his back hits the Cornucopia. There’s nowhere else for him to go. Seungcheol is right up on him, his sword raised. You lift your axe to throw at him, but you realize you risk hitting Jihoon if you miss.

Right before Seungcheol lowers his sword down on Jihoon you throw your axe low, hitting Seungcheol right in the back of the thigh. Seungcheol’s leg buckles, dropping his sword as he does. Seungcheol plucks your axe out of his leg before grabbing his swords. His focus all on you again.

You’re defenseless now though as Seungcheol approaches you. He’s limping a bit, but then again, so are you. You do your best to dodge each of Seungcheol’s attacks. You back up, evading him as best as you can, until your heel catches on a rock and you go tumbling down, your back slamming into the ground.

Seungcheol shoots you a wicked grin as he swipes his sword through the air, slicing right through your good leg. Pain shoots through your whole body and you scream out in agony. You won’t be able to walk after this.

You have to kill Seungcheol. It doesn’t matter if you die as well, but you can’t leave him with Jihoon.

There’s not much you can do though as you watch Seungcheol raise his sword, ready to plunge it right into your heart.

You brace yourself, ready to accept your fate, when suddenly you hear a sickening squelching sound. Seungcheol’s eyes widen as he grabs at his heart. It only takes two more seconds for his body to fall to the ground and for a cannon to sound.

Standing above his body is Jihoon, the other boy’s spear dripping blood. He looks terrified and you can’t tell if it’s because he just killed Seungcheol or because of the state Seungcheol left you in. Maybe both. His hands are shaking as he drops his spear and falls to his knees. He quickly wraps his jacket around your leg, trying to stop the blood flow. He then moves up to your head.

His hands are warm as they cup your face. It almost takes your attention away from the pain in your leg.

“Don’t worry baby, it’s okay,” he whispers to you. “It can be fixed. We’re both alive and your leg can be fixed and we’re both going home.”

“Attention to the final remaining tributes. The earlier revision to the rules have been revoked. After an examination of the rule book it has been discovered only one winner of the Hunger Games may be crowned winner. Good luck, and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

You can’t think. Your head feels light from the loss of blood and your leg is throbbing and Jihoon’s caressing your face and it’s all so suffocating that you can barely process the words that are said over the speakers.

Jihoon reacts before you do.

“No! No. You can’t do that!” Jihoon’s screaming at the sky. “We have to- we both have to go home. Together.”

Only one of you can win. You should have known. When would the Gamemakers ever let both of you survive. Mingyu was right. It didn’t matter if Jeonghan died or not. The whole situation is fucked up. It doesn’t matter who dies to them, they just want their winner.

Your body sinks further into the ground.

“Wait, no, baby, please stay with me,” Jihoon begs.

“We both can’t win Ji,” you mumble.

“Do not give up on me. We made a promise.” Jihoon’s hands grip your neck and he presses his forehead to yours. You reach up to touch his face.

"It was always going to be you. I was only here to protect you. I've done my job. Go and be great." You rub your thumb over his cheek.

"No, no, they said we could both win so I'm not leaving this arena without you," Jihoon protests.

"It can't be anymore. This is your time." You lift your head a bit and press your lips against his. Jihoon accepts, kissing you back. He pulls you closer, taking his time soaking up every bit of you that he can.

When you pull away, Jihoon has tears in his eyes. "Please don't leave me."

"You have something to do. Honor me, honor all of us."

"I'm not kidding Y/N, I'm not leaving this arena without you."

"You have to win."

“You promised me we go home together.”

“They need their winner. That’s you.”

“No, no they don’t. It’s all or nothing.” Jihoon suddenly sits up. “Trust me, okay?"

You’re not sure what Jihoon has planned but you can’t help but scream as Jihoon grabs his spear and plunges it right through his own stomach. You reach out for him and Jihoon falls to the ground right next to you.

What the fuck?

You feel Jihoon’s hand grab yours. He’s shaking. Or maybe it’s you shaking. You can’t really tell. He squeezes your hand tightly and you squeeze back. You can feel your body shutting down.

You want Jihoon to live, but maybe this is just as good enough of a fuck you to the Capitol as you can get.

Your heartbeat is slow and just as you close your eyes you hear the speakers crackle to life again.

In a bit of a panicked voice, you hear the announcer say, “Citizens of Panem, I present to you your victors, Lee Jihoon and L/N Y/N! The tributes of District 7!”

Oh. That’s nice. You both get to live.

That’s all you can think of before you succumb to the darkness.

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