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coolbeans32 · 3 years

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i have a request. it’s a little bit odd lol. basically before bruno left, he was married but he had a vision that she was going to get sick and go into a coma, and when that actually happened he left. then when he comes back, he assumes his wife is dead and marries the reader instead. but he learns that his wife is still alive and has just woken up and how he would deal with that. i recently heard about this happening to someone and they very concept makes me so sad. i’m also going through a breakup and need a good cry lol

Siempre Fuiste Tú (It’s Always Been You)

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a/n: thank you so much for your request! I’m so sorry I didn't finish this earlier, school is a real drag right now, >:(( but I loved the scenario! It actually reminded me of a telenovela I watched before. I hope you enjoy it and since I was having trouble deciding how to end it for a while, I feel that I wanted to end it with a fluffy happy ending. The plot wouldn’t have matched with an angsty feeling for me. Let me know if you need someone to talk to, I'm always here and I hope things are much better. Much love <33

summary: Before you were married with Bruno, he was already married to his first wife. He was incredibly in love with her but a vision changed his life around. With tensions running high in his family and his wife in a coma, he leaves. When he comes back, he slowly finds himself to love again with you, that is, until someone comes in between. Someone meant to be dead. What will Bruno do?

pairings: Bruno Madrigal x Female!Reader, Bruno Madrigal x ex!Wife (OC: Sofia)

warnings: insecurities, a lot of angst, mentions of death and coma

word count: 5.2k

Bruno Madrigal Masterlist

25 years ago

Bruno was panicking. Not slightly. Extremely panicking. It was the day of his wedding and he was frantic. He was about to marry one of his best friends since he was a child. He was definitely not in his right state of mind. You, on the other hand, kept yourself composed. You decided to make sure to keep Bruno in check. Especially when he was running around the room, worried about how he looks and questioning if he was making the right choice.

Sofia López was a beautiful girl. Perfect silky black hair, tall, poised, pleasant, no blemish on her perfect face. On top of that, she was truly one of the sweetest people you have ever met. Considering, she became a part of your friend group after a couple of boys were picking on her. You hated bullies, and you hated boys thinking they were much better than you. In fact, it was the main reason that you befriended Bruno; he never acted superior towards anyone despite having a gift. You decided to step up for Sofia, lifting her spirits up as the years went on. The three of you were unstoppable. But things changed throughout the years.

Sofia really liked Bruno. Coincidentally, Bruno did as well. They both asked you for your advice and, being the loyal friend you were, helped them get together. Ever since their love had blossomed. Now here they were, about to bind their souls together for eternity. Show the entire town their profound love and strength. It was really a magical day for everyone. Everyone, except you.

Deep down into your heart, you loved Bruno. You had been for so long, yet knowing that Bruno had eyes for another, had broken your heart. Even more when he said he liked Sofia. You didn’t know what to do but you knew that you couldn’t show how you actually felt. You had given the best advice you could for him to confess his feelings not to you, but to Sofia. Your heart broke more when Sofia came up to you with her confession. It was at that point where you knew, he could never really love you. He had his heart set on Sofia, you were just his friend. And she loved him just as much as you did.

It took everything in you to not say that he was making the wrong decision. That he should be with you and not her. That you should be the one who submits half of your soul to him. Yet, you said nothing. You didn’t want to ruin their relationship because of your envy and jealousy. Not when the whole town was excited to see their unity. Not when Bruno was so happy that his Mother approved of Sofia, showing how proud she was of her son. It would be embarrassing. So you kept your feelings locked and used your poker face. This wasn’t about you, it was about Bruno’s happiness. For that, you were willing to do anything, even if it meant for your heart to break once again.

Stepping up to Bruno and grabbing his shoulders, you said, “Bruno, for the last time, you're not making a wrong decision. You love Sofia and she loves you. There is nothing to worry about. All you’re doing is causing more stress on yourself. No tienes nada para preocuparte*.”

“But what if she changes her mind? What if once she looks at me, she thinks I’m not the one. Not the one worthy of her?”

With a heavy sigh, you replied, “She loves you. She loves everything about you and I have no doubt that she is also thinking the same. I’m your best friend, how could I lie to you?”

With a sigh, Bruno asked meekly. “Really? Do you really think she loves me enough to marry me?”

Every fiber inside you was yelling NO! You were so tempted to tell him that he was making the biggest mistake of his life. That you were standing in front of him, waiting for him. But you said nothing of that matter. Not wanting to cause problems on their happiest day, you dismissed your feelings again, by being the loyal friend you were, you said, “Yes. Now go out there and get your girl! We don’t have much time to get to the church.” You latched onto his arm and raced down to the church, making sure Bruno was on time to his own wedding.

You had both arrived just in time for the ceremony to begin. You sat in the front row alongside the families, trying to smile instead of grimacing and showing discomfort at the whole situation. Bruno looked at you for reassurance, and all you could was smile and nod. You were worried that you would break unconsciously. He returned the smile and at that moment; the wedding march began.

Time seemed to be slow, and all it did was mock and make fun of you. Taking a toll on you and your heart. You subconsciously started to tear up as they gave their vows to one another. Noticing your tears, Pepa whispered, “Are you okay, Y/N?” It was then you realized the tears flowing down your cheeks. You quickly wiped them and said, “Yes. I’m just so happy for them.”

Pepa smiled softly, “Me too Y/N,” as she decided to side-hug you. As if she almost could tell the real reason for your tears.

As the priest finished his prayer, he finally ended and said, “You may now kiss the bride.” Everyone stood up as they kissed, cheering them, throwing rice, filling the room with happiness. Moving down the aisle to reach the reception. You stayed behind and the church darkened. The funeral after the wedding. The priest sat down with you and said, “Do you think you can truly forever hold your peace, my child?.

It was then your heart cracked, and fell down onto your knees, wondering what could have been, if the bride was you. If you had spoken instead of forever holding your peace.

10 years later

Bruno and Sophia had prevailed. Their relationship had blossomed into something incredible. However, they never truly showed the problems they were going through. Sophia had found out that she was infertile and she would risk complications if she decided to even try to have children. To the whole town, they were happy, and they were. Yet, there was always that lingering part in them that they couldn’t achieve full happiness if they didn’t have children. Especially with Bruno’s mother's expectations of increasing the lineage.

Sophia felt guilty that she couldn’t produce an heir. She didn’t want to burden Bruno with her issues. So, she decided to try. She wanted to try and give them the family that they wanted. N Even if it took her life. Bruno on the other hand, was happy with the way they were. He didn’t want to risk losing the person that he loved. Though, he wouldn’t have known what she was doing, especially when he had stopped giving visions for a while.

The next couple of days, Sophia was feeling extremely ill. She was getting worse and nothing, not even Julieta’s food wasn’t helping her get any better. It was also the day Mirabel was going to receive her gift. It was a hard thing for Bruno to balance time for his family and his wife. It was chaotic at the Madrigal house, nothing for Bruno was going alright.

He left the kitchen and entered his room to lay down some tea that Julieta had made for Sofia. He quietly said, “Hey Sofi, I brought some tea. It might make you feel better. Fresh from the kitchen.”

“Thank you amor. Just set it down there,” she said as she moved up from the bed.

“How are you feeling?”Bruno asked.

“I’m doing much better than yesterday. There is still some pain.”

“I’ll find something else to help. Maybe Julieta can make some new rec-

“I don’t know if I’m going to last. I think we should just stop and enjoy what we have left.”

“Don’t say that Sofi, we’ll find something. I just need a little more time.”

Sofia smiled and sighed. “Okay. But if it doesn’t work, then can you stop?”

“I’ll stop as soon as you give me one more chance. Please, just a little more time.”

“Alright. Right now, we have to get ready for the ceremony.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night turned to be unlike any other; miserable and chaotic. More than chaotic.

First, Mirabel didn’t receive a gift. The whole family was confused, even Alma was confused yet slightly afraid. She desperately asked her son to look into the future for guidance.

Bruno had no clue what was really going on. He was in a daze that not even Sofia could remove him from it. He searched for you subconsciously, but he then remembered that you had been taking care of your sick mother for a while, you weren’t here. Ever since he had gotten married, your mother had become ill, to the point where she should have died a while ago. However, the food that Julieta provided had extended the length of her life. He had no idea that you were experiencing the death of your mother at the same time he was forced to look into the future. You also spent most of your time at home, omitting yourself from everyone.

Bruno had reached his tower and started his ritual. He laid down sand, lit his match, and allowed himself to look into the future. He saw the Casita cracking and then reversed back to its state. He saw Mirabel standing in front, looking older than what she was. He couldn’t understand what the vision implied. While he knew he should tell his mother of the fate of the family, he couldn’t. Wanting to protect Mirable, he crushed the vision and headed to leave. However, he stopped. There was something else bugging him. Sofia. He could find out what was wrong with her. So before he decided to truly leave for good, he set up his area again to see a new vision on what fate his wife had before he made his choice.

Bruno laid down sand once more, set himself up, and looked into the future once more. There his wife stood, hunching over and falling onto her knees. Coughing and not stopping. Then he saw one of his sisters, he thought. Was it Julieta? Pepa? He couldn’t tell. Then he saw his wife laying down on a bed, surrounded by nurses. The nurses bowed down and the priest came in. He stopped at that instant.

Bruno was hyperventilating. He couldn’t believe his eyes. His wife would die. The vision showed him that he was incapable of saving his wife. Bruno tried to slow his breathing down and crushed that vision as well. He felt unbearable, guilty. There was nothing he could do to help his family. So, he ran down the stairs, closed his tower door, and left. Never to be seen again.

Now

10 years had passed and no one had found Bruno since that night. Sofia had fallen into a self-induced coma, doctors waiting for her to either wake up or pronounce her death. Bruno had long believed that his wife had died as he lived between the walls of the Madrigal house. You had finally learned about Sofia and Bruno a week after the events occurred. You truly felt horrible. You felt that you should’ve been there for them but you knew that your mother needed you. It was also a way for you to forget about the heartache you had when seeing the two of them.

You had never really moved on. Each day felt like a struggle to move, breathe, to live. A part of you felt sad for Sofia. You were her best friend and you weren’t there for her. But a part of you felt hopeful. Hopeful that Bruno would come back and you’d have the chance to confess your love and be with him. It was truly selfish but how could you think otherwise? You were Bruno’s first friend, first person he would go to, the first one to drop everything when he was insecure. having a panic attack. You were always there. When would be the time someone was there for you as well. That was until he came back.

“Hey Y/N,” Bruno said humbly. There was a moment of silence, both of you taking in each other’s presence after such a long time. You couldn’t bear any longer, you went to hug him, not wanting to let him go.

“I missed you,” you mumbled, taking in the warmth of having Bruno in your arms again.

“Me too Y/N/N. I’m so sorr-”

“Hey, you’re here. That’s all that matters.” The both of you stayed that way for a while, hopeful for the future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ever since you both were stuck hip to hip. The both of you became closer to each other as the days passed. The two of you talked about your losses in your life and helped each other grieve for Sofia and your mother. Slowly and surely, the two of you gained a connection. Bruno felt happier and lighter every time he was with you. He had allowed himself to love again, and you, your feelings had grown more. You would’ve never thought it would be possible yet here you were, sharing shy and shared glances with one another. Bruno had asked you to join him on a picnic when he was going to confess his feelings.

It was a beautiful evening, filled with clear skies, the sun slowly starting to set. You had chosen to wear a simple floral dress and a blue pair of alpargatas. While you got ready, Bruno headed down to his private spot to lay down an entire basket of food made by Julieta and a blanket that was in the perfect view of the sunset. He wanted everyone to be perfect and hoped for the best to happen. The scenery was unlike no other, especially since the mountains were parted and the slow trickling water would create an effervescent glow to the sun over the two of you. Everything was perfect. Bruno couldn’t wait any longer.

When you arrived, Bruno turned in your direction and was filled with awe. Butterflies emerged from his stomach and all he could see was you. His best friend. The one who was always there for him since childhood and even now. He always was timid and shy; even more when he was shunned by the town for the gift he had. You were the one who helped him through every insecurity, every panic attack, every encounter of bullying by the boys of the town. It was you. He wanted you. Now, all he had to do was say the words. Tonight would be the night.

The two of you talked and laughed all night, finally enjoying the serenity and peace you were given. Stories retold from the memories of the past. Every glance towards each other filled the canister of tension, slowly rising with each shy stare. The glow in each other’s eyes, showing passion and commitment to each other. Fireflies came out. Gleamed through the night.

You both looked around, admiring the beautiful sight that only the two of you would ever share. Bruno looked at you. It was then that he made his decision. He couldn’t wait any longer. His emotions are waiting to break through that canister. He wanted you. Forever if he could.

“Y/N.”

“Yes, Brunito?”

“All my life, I’ve been afraid. Afraid of what people thought of me, what my family thought of me. I always did what I thought was right for my mother. Listen to her, let her make my decisions. But now, I am free to make my own. And you know what…it was because of you. You were always there for me, always stood by my side, even when no one else wanted to. You were there at my lowest, my true best friend. These past few months have been the best and I can’t lie… I’ve grown feelings for you. Like every day it grows and it can’t stop. No one has made me feel this way in such a long time.”

“Brun-”

“Before you say anything, I have something to ask you. I know that you might not feel the same but I need to ask you this.” Bruno paused and decided to suck up his fear and do the thing he wanted to do. He got down on one knee and said, “Will you marry me mi flor?”

Everyone knew time couldn’t stop, yet here it was. A moment being captured by the stars, silently waiting for your response. You had tears running down your cheeks, heart-filled. You couldn’t believe what he had said nor what was happening. All you could think about was how real the whole thing was, and not a part of a fantasy you would dream at night. It was everything you could ever want, and who were you to deny that feeling of everlasting happiness after all the suffering you had gone through.

“Yes, Yes, I’ll marry you!” Bruno slid the ring on your finger and sealed his promise with a kiss. Butterflies and fireworks exploded between the two, hopeful and excited for what laid ahead in the future.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The wedding was much different than Sofia and Bruno’s wedding. The two of you decided to get married where the family had been blessed with their miracle. At the river. Flowers filled the trees, butterflies surrounded the ceremony, the water was so pure, everything was perfect. The entire family and town was there to celebrate your day, no one left behind.

Your white dress had been embroidered by Mirabel with beautiful rainbow flowers and golden-yellow butterflies, a flower crown made by Isabella to match, with white alpargatas. Such an ethereal sight.

And Bruno. He was an emotional wreck.

He took one look at you, walking along the aisle, alongside Felix (your honorary brother), and was gobsmacked. He had no words to describe how beautiful you looked. How lucky he was to be able to call you his wife soon. He had no doubt and no regrets about marrying you. He felt it was something natural.

Once you had reached the end, nothing, and nobody could ever take away the small moment you had right there and then. Two wide smiles, two bright eyes, shining sun, and a promise of everlasting love for an eternity.

Everything seemed perfect. Except, Fate had a different plan for the two of you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A year has passed since the two of you united your souls. You decided to both take things slow on raising a family. Every day was always a magical day in the Madrigal household. You both were blessed with such an amazing group of people, especially once the family had reunited once again. You absolutely loved to take care and teach embroidery to Antonio and have shown Mirabel how to become more advanced in her creations.

You were getting ready for another date night with Bruno, dictating what you should wear since nothing seemed to fit right. You also felt a bit nauseous for some reason. It wasn’t normal for you to take so long in getting ready. Maybe I should check with Julieta. She might know what’s wrong. You decided to postpone and go to Julieta’s room, and have her look you over.

“Julieta, are you busy?”

“No Y/N, come in. Do you need something?”

“No, I just wanted to ask for your advice. I haven’t been feeling well and I don’t want to bother you but what do I do with this nausea I have?”

“Nausea? How long have you felt that way?” Julieta asked skeptically.

“A couple of days and it’s worse in the morning. I really just want it to go away.”

Julieta shrieked with happiness, and went to quickly hug you. She was definitely excited. You, on the other hand, were completely confused. “Ahhh, don’t you know what this could mean Y/N/N?’

“I’m not sure what you mean Julie?”

“You’re most likely pregnant con tu bendito niño amor! You’re going to have a baby! Oh wait- let me get my stuff just to make sure.”

You were completely shocked. You had not expected this at all and even more so this early on in your marriage. Julieta quickly came back with her stuff to make sure she was correct in her prediction.

Almost half an hour later, you both had found out that you were, in fact, pregnant with Bruno’s child. You had never felt so complete in your life. You were ecstatic to let Bruno know the news.

Everything seemed to be perfect. However, on the other side of town, while you went back to get ready, a certain someone had woken up. In a frightened state and with no clue at who was around her. Sofia had woken up. Fate was cruel indeed.

“Where’s Bruno?!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you had a nice outdoor dining date, and you were filled with more butterflies than you could ever imagine. You were more than ready to let Bruno in on the happiest news of your lives. Though, everyone seemed to look at the two of you with a solemn look on their faces. You were about to ask the children when the two of you had heard a voice you had not heard for years. Both of you had wide eyes, and Bruno, well he was extremely bewildered. He was so sure that the vision had shown Sofia die.

“Bruno! There you are!” Sofia ran towards the both of you and she jumped to hug Bruno. “Ay, I didn’t know where you were and they wouldn’t let me leave! But now we’re finally together.”

“Uhh-Sofia, how are you still alive,” Bruno asked as he slowly removed her from him.

“What do you mean? I’m still alive, what are you talking about?”

“I had a vision years ago of you. You died.”

What do you mean years ago, what day is it?”

“What was the last thing you remember?”

All I remember is trying to find you and then fainting? Y/N, what are you doing here? What’s going on?”

You couldn’t bear to stand any longer. It was no doubt that you felt bad for your friend who had just woken up after many years, without knowing it, Though, you couldn't help but feel insecure around Sofia. You knew she didn’t know that you were married to Bruno either. She was still stuck in the past.

Not wanting to stay any longer and in fear of breaking down, you decided to take your leave. “I’m going to go, you two have a lot to catch up on. I’ll leave you both to it.” Without waiting any longer, you ran. Ran all the way back in hopes to comfort yourself, wondering what was going to happen next.

All you could do was hope for Bruno to choose you, that you would be enough for him to stay, despite the voice in your head yelling at you that you weren’t worth it. You weren’t anything like her. He would never love you like her.

Meanwhile…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Bruno , what’s going on? What happened? Why did Y/N run away?”

“Sofia, I don’t know what to tell you but…it's been over 10-11 years since you fainted.”

Sofia looked at him in disbelief, she started to laugh. “Very funny. Great joke.”

Bruno looked at her solemnly in silence. Sofia’s laughter died down and her smile turned to a frown. “You are joking right? Bruno?”

“No Sofia. I’m not. You’ve been gone for years. Things have changed.”

“What are you saying? What has changed?”

Bruno knew he didn’t want to hurt Sofia. She was one his best friends, but he had to tell her the truth. “I’m with Y/N now.”

Sofia was red. To everyone, she looked mad, upset, and betrayed. But really, she was embarrassed. She was gone for so long, she didn’t even know what had occurred throughout so many years. She was hurt but at the same time, she knew she couldn’t do anything. She cared for Bruno and she knew that his feelings had changed.

Sofia asked, “You love her don’t you?”

Bruno quickly replied, “I do.”

She looked around her, looking at how much the town has changed. She took a quick look at the road, not even noticing that a crack went through the entire town to the mountains. She finally realized that everything was no longer the same. She turned back to Bruno, slightly smiling and said, “It was always her wasn't it? You always loved her, didn’t you?”

“Sofia I-“

“It’s okay, just tell me. Was it always her?”

Bruno knew the truth. He always loved you in so many ways that he couldn’t express. He was just so afraid of ruining the great friendship the two of you had. Now, he was blessed to even have you in your life as his. He looked Sofia in the eyes. Sofia looked back. She knew.

She had already known, but she needed him to say it.

“It was always her. I’m sorry-“

“No Bruno. You don’t need to be sorry. I know you love her. I think I’ve known for a while.”

“I really am sorry Sofi.”

Sofia looked at him with teary eyes, “It’s okay. You never need to be sorry for loving someone. I’m just grateful for the years we had.”

Bruno felt guilty and ashamed. He didn’t want to hurt Sofia at all but he couldn’t just leave you. He loved you with every fiber of his soul. You were just different.

“You’ll always be my friend though Sofia. Right?”

Sofia smiled brightly and went to hug him. “I’ll always be your friend. Both yours and Y/N’s. It’s the three of us. Always.”

“Thank you.” Bruno looked at the sun setting and turned back. “I have to go.”

“Take care of her Bruno.”

“I will.” With that he left, heading home to the one he loves. Sofia turned back. Tears trickled down her cheeks, silenting mourning her loss and disparity.

“I’ll always love you Bruno. Now it’s your turn to love someone as much as I loved you,” she whispered into the wind and left the town. Disappearing into the distance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bruno had reached his tower and was searching for you ever since he arrived home. He found you lurching over the toilet, tears cascading down.

“Y/N! Are you alright?” You wiped your tears, then your mouth, turned to Bruno and said, “I’m okay. Just not well but I’ll be okay. Where’s Sofia?” You were silently wishing that she wasn’t here, slowly trying to trickle down the fear running through your veins.

“Oh, she left. I told her about us and everything that happened. Are you sure you’re alright, you look really pale?”

“She left? I thought she was going to stay with you?”

Bruno looked at you incredulously, “Why would she stay?”

You look at him meekly, “She’s your wife. Our marriage isn’t real since she’s alive. She needs you as well. I’ll just be in between the both of you.”

Bruno looked at her as if she was crazy. “What are you talking about Y/N? We’re married. You’re my family. Our marriage is real.”

“Bruno, I know you still love her and all I’m doing is ruining things for the both of you. She needs you. I think it’s best if I leave.” You went to stand up when Bruno went to stop you. He grabbed your shoulders and said, “Y/N, stop. You’re being irrational.”

“Bruno, please. You’ll only make things worse and-.”

“Stop Y/N! Will you please just listen to me for once? Please?”

Tensions arose in the air. He held you back, almost as if he was taming an animal to listen to him, holding you back.

You looked at him and sighed, “Okay.”

“Sol, I want you to know that I’m not going to leave you. I know that me and Sofia were married but that is in the past. We were married but you and I are married. You’re not in the way of anything because you are my everything. Mi vida. We're now. I know that it might seem like it but I have loved you ever since we were kids. I was just so afraid to ruin the relationship we had and I was a coward for not saying anything. You have always been there for me and have shown me what true love can be. I want you. Only you mi amor. I want to be with you for the rest of my life, til the day we die. That is a promise I will always keep.”

You hadn’t noticed the tears flowing down your cheeks, but your heart was filled with warmth, happiness, peace. Everything your husband had said, felt unreal. You thought you were dreaming. He loved you. He had chosen you from the beginning. It didn’t matter what had happened in the past. The future was now. You were his future. Your baby was the future. And no one, not even Fate, could take that away from you.

“I love you even more.”

“Siempre fuiste tú, mi sol. Nobody else.” You lept towards him and kissed. A kiss filled with promise, passion, and hope. Hope for the future and each other. You both stayed in each other’s embrace, not wanting to let go, when you said, “Bruno, I have something to tell you.”

Without moving, he asked, “What is it?”

You took a breath in, looked up at his hazel eyes and said, “I’m pregnant.”

With wide eyes and mouth agape, “What?”

You beamed at him, “We’re going to have a baby. A family.”

He couldn’t contain his excitement any longer from hearing the news and twirled you around. “We’re going to have a baby! I’m going to be a dad! You’re going to be a mom!”Laughter filled the air.

“I have to go tell everyone else. We have to prepare the nursery, clothes, food- wait, do you think the baby could stay in the tower instead? Oh my! We have so much to do, so much to prepare-”

“Wooh, calm down Bruno. We still have time for all that. Right now, all that matters is that the baby will be happy and healthy, the rest will come.”

Bruno smiled, so brightly, nothing would be able to remove that damned smile. “We got this right?”

You smiled right back, “We do.”

“Together?”

“Forever.”

Fate is a tricky thing. It can be cruel and destructive. It could mock and make fun of anyone at any instant. But, it can also be a beautiful thing. It can show you a new world of love and compassion. For Bruno and Y/N Madrigal, Fate was merciful. Fate had given them a new chance. A new future. One in which two turns to three. A new family. Nothing, not one single thing, could take that away from them. Passing the test of life, love, and loyalty. And they both would live their own happily ever after.

Translation: You have nothing to worry about*

taglist: @existenceisfunny @shespeaksinsongs @true-blue-dream

@bruneristas-blog @notlatanyarcruz @p-taryn-dactyl

#encanto #bruno x reader #bruno fanfic #bruno #bruno madrigal #bruno x female reader #bruno x y/n

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joel-millerr · 3 years

Text

What’s Your Favorite Color?

Chapter Seven of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.2k

Summary: reader is stuck on the Crest with Mando and the kid. what should be an uneventful trip turns into something that changes everyone on board.

Warnings: SMUT! rough sex, oral sex (female receiving), orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, praise kink(?), aftercare, depictions of death, mentions of mental illness (even though the reader doesn’t explicitly say it--it’s more implied), slight spit play?

A/N: ok so this might be the dirtiest thing I've written but I'm just so proud of where this story is going and I hope you guys enjoy. also, the entire chapter takes place on the crest, and it’s one day :)

also big shoutout to @eznova who helped me with this chapter. LOVE U

I worry that your own attachment to the Mandalorian will be your undoing.

That eerie reminder echoes over and over in your mind as you wake up from one of the best nights of your life. It’s hard to control the stupid, shit-eating grin plastered on your face as you lie in Mando’s cot. You’re alone, but his scent—a delicious mix of soap and musk, fill your nostrils and if you close your eyes and focus hard enough, you can imagine him laying right next to you, wrapping strong, tree trunk sizes arms around you and placing chaste kisses all over your skin.

You couldn’t have planned falling for Mando so deeply and so quickly as you have, mainly considering that you haven’t known each other for very long, but you know damn well that if given the opportunity, you’d do everything over again.

Stars, you don’t even know what his name is.

What is his first name?

Should you ask him? You don’t want to come off imposing, and there’s a part of you that wants to wait until he chooses to share that information with you, rather than try to wrestle it out of him, but he’s shrouded in mystery, and that just reels you in even more. You really want to pick his brain, figure out what makes him him, but you don’t know if you’ll ever get that chance. There’s the possibility though, that after last night, he’ll be more vulnerable around you. Maybe you’ll both be more vulnerable and inclined to share each other’s pasts. After all, you’ve been pretty intimate with each other.

When you finally decide it’s probably time for you to get out of bed and face the potential awkwardness that could happen between you and Mando, the door to the cubby hole hisses open, with neither the kid nor Mando in sight. Your feet touch down on the cold ship’s floor, and you slip into your boots. Once on your feet, you feel an ache at the apex of your thighs. It stings and you have to basically have to walk with your thighs spread apart in order to ease some of the uncomfortableness between your legs. Every move you make is a reminder of the night before. You can even feel him inside you, stretching your walls to hug him perfectly. Kriff, you’re already wet and you only just woke up.

Hoping a sanisteam will wipe away the crude thoughts from your barely conscious mind, you take to the fresher and wake yourself up with a brisk rinse. Once you’re out and throw on yesterday clothes—you make a mental note to wash your only other garments, you’re about to head up to the cockpit when you hear Mando’s voice. Stopping at the ladder, you listen in on what he’s saying.

“…but you have to agree to go with them if they want you to. Understand?” His’s voice goes quiet for a moment. “Plus, I can’t train you. You’re too…powerful. Don’t you want to learn more of that Jedi stuff?”

It’s a damn shame how last night you had heard his true voice for the first time, unmodulated but still as deep and rough as it sounds with the distortion of his helmet, and probably won’t be privy to it for a while. You wish you could hear him, like really hear him, naked and untapped again but even if you don’t, it’ll just make last night even more significant.

You hear the Child coo in response before hearing Mando’s cadence again. “I agreed to take you back to your own kind, so that’s what I need to do.” There’s a brief pause. “You understand that, right?”

For the first time, you detect some sadness in Mando’s tone. Like he’s trying to reassure not only the kid but also himself that he needs to go through with this, that even though there might be a part of him that doesn’t want to let the Child go, in the end he has no choice in the matter. It tugs at your heartstrings. The Mandalorian, a seasoned warrior, a survivor, a bounty hunter—at war with himself and his own feelings.

You can’t help but feel guilty as well. Ahsoka had warned you that one day, you too would have to make a choice but after last night… It’s no longer as clear-cut as you initially thought it would be. Had this come to you even just six months ago, you wouldn’t have given it a second thought. You’d make the choice of being a Jedi, and forgo all attachments and dedicate your life to the Order. It wouldn’t be hard for you to set all your feelings aside—you’ve had many years of practice on that subject, but now things are completely upside down. It’s territory you’ve never been in before and Maker, that terrifies you. The longer you journey with the Mandalorian, the more you become weaved together like vines wrapping themselves around a duracrete structure. Similar to the ancient temples on Naboo, tightening and gripping in every nook and cranny until it’s impossible to separate one without destroying the other.

When you reach the floor of the cockpit, you watch Mando sit ever still in the pilot’s chair, with Grogu seated to his right. Your boots hitting the ground as you walk alerts the Child, his ears twitching in your direction and he giggles excitedly, holding that little durasteel ball in his hands.

“Morning,” you announce as you plop down in the seat to Mando’s left. Grogu peers at you with big eyes and makes grabby hands at you, so lean over and bring him into your lap.

“How long until we reach Coruscant?”

“A day or two,” he answers curtly, keeping his visor glued to the blues of hyperspace through the transparisteel.

“Oh, okay. Looks like we’ll have time to kill then.”

Mando rises from his seat, turns his body to you for just a moment before announcing his leave. “Does your blaster need cleaning?”

“Uh—maybe?”

He offers you a quick dip of the helmet before leaving the cockpit in one swift movement and heading down the ladder. Your eyebrows pull together as you stare at the empty doorway to the little room you and the Child are still seated in. Looking down at him, you whisper, “Why do I get the feeling he’s avoiding me?”

Grogu bats his eyes at you before gently sucking on the ball still firmly gripped in his claws. It’ll always amaze you how attached he is to that sphere. You might never know why it’s so important to him but then again, you suppose that it’s a secret between him and his caregiver.

“I wish I knew what was going on in that mind of his,” you confess—not necessarily to Grogu, but since he’s the only one around, you feel almost compelled to spew your concerns and confusions about everything that’s happened.

“What do we do, little guy? I suppose since you’ve had training, you’ll probably want to be found by a Jedi, right?”

Grogu mumbles something at you and for just a second, you think he might understand you.

“And you’re okay with leaving him?”

He coos almost sadly, and you can hear your heart shattering. This little creature has grown such an attachment to Mando. It’s exactly what Ahsoka said—Mando’s basically his father and truthfully, if your parents were still alive, you couldn’t imagine leaving them to join a group that shuns on attachments. It would take a strength that you couldn’t muster to pull yourself away from them, not after knowing the kind of pain of having to live without them.

“I’m scared, Grogu. Truthfully, I have no idea what to think about all this.”

Of course, he doesn’t say anything. He’s not even really paying attention, too busy staring at the little ball in his hands. It’s okay, though. It’s enough just for you to express your concerns aloud. Your mind can get cluttered if you think about everything all at once. The moments you convey your thoughts verbally, it forces you to focus on what you’re actually saying, rather than all the hypotheticals that bounce around in your head.

“Should I go down there?”

Again, Grogu says nothing, he doesn’t even look up at you. Eyeing where Mando sat just minutes ago, you feel like a teenager. You’re both adults, you can’t just tiptoe around each other, it’s not like there are many places to hide on the Crest, anyway. If he won’t come to you, you’ll just have to go to him.

Holding Grogu close to your chest, you take to the ladder and head down, being mindful not to accidentally hit his head on the rungs. Just as you reach the hull, you notice Mando facing one of the crates, his blaster completely taken apart, wiping the coil with a dirty rag. Placing Grogu in the bunk to your left, you lean on another crate and watch Mando dissect his weapon and clean every little bit of residue off his gun.

“How’s your shoulder?” Mando asks, back still turned to you.

“It’s fine, kinda aches a bit but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” you answer, transfixed at the way Mando meticulously cleans his weapons. He’s nothing if not thorough.

“Mmm,” he hums low in his throat. The sound reminds you of the mind-altering grunts he made the night before when he was balls deep inside you, causing you to rub your thighs together at the memory. That sanisteam was supposed to get of these filthy thoughts.

It becomes suddenly very awkward in the hull and you get the feeling that you might be lingering. He clears his throat a few times but says nothing. There may not come another time where you could try to learn more about Mando, so now seems like right time. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you muster up the strength to finally ask him, “You were born on Mandalore?” Keeping your eyes down, staring at your feet because you just don’t have the nerve to look at him.

“No, Aq Vetina.”

“Oh… I thought—”

“I was a foundling.”

“Like Grogu.”

“Yes,” he answers deep in his throat.

It suddenly makes sense why Mando saved him from the Empire, and why Grogu’s still in his care. He sees himself in the Child. He sees the vulnerability, the childlike innocence and he understands that he is responsible for this little baby, at least until you find a Jedi that is.

“Do all Mandalorians hide their faces?” You ask curiously.

There’s not much that you know about Mandalorians. The few things you do know about them is that they’re almost impossible to find due to the Empire nearly wiping them all out, and that they’re some of the best—if not the best warriors in the galaxy. Given the fact that Mando hasn’t removed his helmet once since you’ve been around (until last night), you can assume he take his Creed very seriously, and can’t help but wonder if the Child has been fortunate to catching a glimpse of his face.

“No,” he answers methodically.

Already feeling like you’re pushing the limits of how many questions you can ask before he finally decides to shut you down and stops being so forthcoming, the genuine curiosity is sadly too strong for you to pull back. It’s not like you’ve ever had this much time around someone so secretive and mysterious as Mando, and there’s just too many pieces to this puzzle that you want to so desperately put together.

“So, why do you do it?”

“This is the—” he begins, but a chuff of air slips through your lips before he can finish speaking. “What?” He asks annoyingly, turning his body around to face you.

“I don’t know…” Your hands motion around you in an effort to find the right words. “I mean you did take off your helmet in front of me last night.”

“I did.” The words come out through gritted teeth.

“So, is the rule that you can’t take off the helmet or that you can’t show your face? Because there is a difference between the two.”

This must catch him off guard because Mando stays silent for a ridiculously long time. The two possibilities are that he’s considering what you’re saying—which you’re beginning to doubt, or he thinks you’re totally out of line and is choosing to ignore you. You have this bad habit of being pretty blunt and somewhat insensitive with the way you express yourself and that’s caused you some issues with others in the past, but it’s always gotten the results you wanted. Honestly, someone like Mando will probably have tough skin, so you’re pretty sure he can handle whatever you throw at him.

“When did this become an interrogation about what I choose and choose not to do?” He grumbles, resting his hands on his utility belt.

“Doesn’t really seem like you’re choosing…” you mumble under your breath, kicking the ground and keeping your eyes to the floor.

“What did you say?” He asks defensively, squaring his shoulders and then taking a step forward. Out of habit, you lean back further against the crate.

“I’m not trying to offend you,” you clarify, using the bottom of your foot to kick off the crate, and straightening your back. “I’m just trying to understand—”

“Why?”

“Well, we’re kinda stuck with each other for who knows how long, so we should take this time to get to know each other, don’t you think?” Raising an eyebrow at him, you rest your hands on your hips, waiting for him to either deflect or finally let his guard down and talk like two normal adults.

“I don’t see how that matters.”

Your jaw literally drops, completely dumbfounded. It during moments like this that you so desperately wish you could see what his facial expression is. Why does he continuously try to keep a distance between himself and every living thing in the galaxy? Is he scared of being vulnerable around someone else? That his reputation as a hardened Mandalorian warrior would be compromised if he so much as shared a tiny bit of information with you? Does he think a Mandalorian would come and strike him down for having his own opinion about his Creed? That questioning the only thing he knew since he was a child would be considered sacrilegious?

It’s pretty silly how worked up you’re getting right now, but the way Mando dismisses you, it stirs up that anger inside you that is so hard to control. He’s always pushing your buttons, just as you push his—only this time, you simply wanted to know a little more about him. Is that too much to ask for?

Do you continue to press him?

Do you let it go?

Announcing your defeat by drawling out a sigh, your hands drop to your sides, looking down at the ground because you can’t be bothered to look at him in the visor anymore. “All right, well I’m going to head up to the cockpit and um…” You try to come up with a quick excuse to leave the room as it’s becoming more and more awkward with each passing second, but unfortunately, nothing comes to mind. You result to turning on your heel and climbing up the ladder without another word, not bothering to wait and see if Mando comes up with something to say before you disappear.

Once you reach the doorway, the blues of hyperspace nearly blind you, and your hand comes up to give shade to your eyes as they adjust to the sudden change in brightness. You’ll need to find something to keep your mind occupied until you enter Coruscant airspace, because you’ll quite frankly drive yourself insane not doing anything, so you walk over to the control panel in front of Mando’s chair and begin running some diagnostics to see at what capacity the hyperdrive is operating at, see if there’s any leakage that you could fix inside the ship and any little thing that might need some maintenance. After running a few tests, you realize that unfortunately, Peli had fixed pretty much every little issue with the ship, so there really is nothing to fix in order to keep yourself busy.

Fuck.

Feeling defeated, you fall back onto your bum and sit on the cold floor, back leaning against one of the walls, resting your right arm on one of the passenger seats. You’ve always hated silence. With nothing to distract yourself with, your mind always ends up wandering, overanalyzing every little minute detail of your life, meticulously going over each moment in time and thinking of all the ways you could have done something different, how the choices you made were wrong, how things would be better off if you did x instead of y. It gnaws at you, until the only thing you feel like you can do to stop the voices inside your mind is to scream and lash out, causing pain to yourself and everyone around you.

Is this the work of the Dark Side or is it just your unstable mind?

Is it both—working together and tearing you apart from the inside out? Slowly picking your brain apart, section by section, nerve ending by nerve ending until all that’s left of you is the worthlessness of your existence, a make-up of atoms and tissue that can’t be controlled or understood?

Stars, you’re doing it again.

You can feel your mind retreating deeper and deeper into itself, wanting to disappear from all of this. Making yourself as small as you can, you pull your knees close to your chest, head dropping down between them while your palms rub the back of your head, grabbing fistfuls of your hair and clenching so hard you think you might end up ripping some right out of your head.

The harder you pull, the more anxious you become. Heartrate picking up steadily and the lump in your throat growing in size, it’s as if the space around you is screaming, that everything is spinning, which could explain all this anxiety you suddenly feel when in reality, it’s all just in your head. The cockpit is dead silent, there isn’t even the slightest sound coming from down in the hull. Everything is deafeningly still and yet you feel it’s all too loud, and you just want to scream. Scream until you feel your vocal cords explode or until there’s no air left in your lungs. Your body no longer feels like it’s yours, and instead it’s as if you’re just living inside of it, watching everything happen around you but not having any actual control over it.

Fuck fuck fuc kfuck fuck fuck

Being so wrapped up in your own mind, you don’t even hear Mando coming up the ladder. You don’t hear his heavy boots clanking against durasteel. You don’t even hear him speaking to you. All you feel is a presence and when you finally lull your head back and peek through heavy lids, you see Mando—on his fucking knees, trying to comfort you. One of his hands hovering over your figure like he’s not sure whether to touch you or not.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks as softly as he possibly can. It comes out smooth like honey but still sitting at a low register through his helmet.

“I’m fine,” you answer curtly, no longer feeling particularly chatty.

He sighs deep in his throat, and you can tell he wants to ask you again, maybe hoping he’ll get the truth this time, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he takes a step back and sits down on the chair opposite the one you’re closest to and stays as silent as a statue. While normally you appreciate the company, right now you want to be left alone, but you don’t have the heart to tell him to leave. So, you stay where you are, both acting like the other isn’t there.

As time ebbs on, your breathing has slows down. Mando being there—despite not saying anything, has you distracted. Your mind’s starting to settle on what’s going on at the present time, rather than all the thoughts that clawed at you just minutes ago. Without even realizing it, he’s helped you significantly.

“How old are you?”

Taken aback by his sudden engagement in conversation, you lean into the wall behind you and feel your shoulders touch the cold durasteel.

“Sorry?” you ask, pulling your eyebrows closely together. This might be the first time he’s ever asked you something personal. When Mando asks a question, it’s usually because he’s searching for clarification, not because he’s genuinely curious.

“How old are you?” He repeats.

You tell him your age and he hums in his throat.

“What about you?”

Something like a chuckle emits from his helmet before answering. “Older than you.”

That’s as close to an actual answer as you’ll get from him.

Okay, since you’re back to asking trivial questions about each other, “Is there anything you like to do for fun?”

“Fun?” He echoes.

“Yeah. Like, what do you do for enjoyment?”

He stays silent for much longer than you expected. Maker, does he not know how to have fun? Maybe it’s the way you worded the question?

“What brings you pleasure?”

His head turns to you and cocks ever so slowly to the side. It’s impossible to hide the annoyance on your face. Rolling your eyes and crossing your arms against your chest, a chuff of air releases from your nostrils.

“Forget it.”

“I…don’t know,” he answers somewhat defeatedly. The idea that Mando doesn’t know what having fun is comes as quite a shock to you. Even though you didn’t have much knowledge on Mandalorians, you didn’t expect that they were unable to have fun.

“Okay, forget that question. What’s your favorite color?”

“Who has a favorite color?”

“People, Mando. People have favorite colors.”

“I don’t.” Letting out a gentle laugh, you use the palms of your hands to push against the floor and rise off the ground, slipping into the chair you were leaning on previously. Turning your body in the direction of the Mandalorian sitting across from you, you sit cross legged.

“There isn’t a color that you gravitate towards? One you look at and think, ‘I like that’?”

“I suppose I never thought of it.”

He’s been missing out on so much. How he’s been going through life without having these mundane preferences or opinions on things is…almost unfathomable. Every person you’ve ever met has had these frivolous details that made them different, giving you an insight into their personalities but Mando has no preference on anything. He just…exists.

“I’m assuming you have one?” he asks through the modulator.

“Yellow,” you begin to say. “But not a flashy kind of yellow, more like a dusty, pale yellow.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why is that your favorite color?”

“I don’t know, Mando,” you answer with a smile on your face. “I just like how it looks. It’s warm and inviting.”

“Hmmm.”

“I guess… It reminds me of the sun. Back home, the sun would shine so bright, and it was so big. I used to stare at it even though my mother warned me not do that.”

He doesn’t say anything more but given that this might be the longest casual conversation you two have ever had, it’s quite the improvement from just saying a couple words to each other.

“Why do you always wear your armor?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… We’re in hyperspace right now and you’re geared up for battle. Doesn’t it get uncomfortable always wearing your armor? Isn’t it heavy?”

“It is heavy.”

Eyebrows knitting tightly together, your lips press into a thin line, unamused by Mando dancing around your question.

“Are… Are you not even allowed to at least take off your armor in front of another person?”

“I never thought about it. I’m usually alone so it makes sense to keep it on; in case.”

“In case what? We’re not going to get attacked in hyperspace.”

“It’s not impossible.”

“Seriously, Mando. You need to loosen up a bit.”

“I do not need to ‘loosen up’. I’m fine,” he says, a hint of derision in his voice.

“Says the guy in full body armor all the time.”

“It’s practical.”

“Oh, it’s practical,” you mock, a grin creeping up on your lips.

“Yes.”

“Even when you’re fucking someone?” You remark, eyebrow raised.

The visor burns into you. He’s definitely caught off guard by your brass question. Your lips curl into a sly smile, your tongue darting across your bottom lip.

“No one’s complained about it.”

Oh.

It’s kind of silly how angry that statement makes you. Okay, not necessarily angry but it definitely stirs something deep inside you. It’s clear by the way he fucked you last night that you weren’t his first—he’s obviously experienced in that area. However, you can’t help the way your jaw clenches at the thought of someone else crying out his name while he fucks them senseless.

You’re mine.

Thighs rubbing together as you remember Mando’s confession from last night, it’s quickly replaced by the thought of him saying that to someone else. Has he said that to anyone else? Are you reading into this too much? What if the only reason he said it was because it was in the heat of the moment? People say things during intimacy that they don’t necessarily mean… You’re definitely overthinking things, right?

“What are you thinking?” He beckons, voice hitting that part inside of you that nearly has you fucking moaning on the spot. How can a voice be so intoxicating? It’s not even his true voice, it’s distorted and cuts up like static but it has you nearly soaked in your seat.

“Nothing,” you lie, hoping he’ll drop the subject and move on.

He doesn’t.

“You’re quiet and from what I can tell, your heat signature’s gone up.”

Your what? “My heat sig—? No, your helmet must be malfunctioning.”

“Oh,” he rises from his seat slowly, squaring his shoulders as he does but doesn’t take a step towards you. He stays painstaking still, visor never once breaking away from you. “Is that right?”

Stars. Your heartbeat is picking up, palms starting to sweat, and your throat is beginning to close up. Your eyes maintain their gaze, trying to regain some kind of control over the situation. It’s childish, really—always attempting to have even the slightest amount of authority over whatever situation you’re put in with Mando because you never actually have any control. He may fool you into thinking you do, but at the end of the day, Mando is always the one in control.

“Your heat signature is burning up, pretty girl,” he taunts.

Kriff, this is not going the way you want it to go. You can’t be the only one looking foolish right now. If he wants to play the game, you can play it too, and you’ll make damn sure you play it better.

Looking him up and down trying to pinpoint any indication that he may not be as calm and collected as he’s playing off, your eyes drop to the bulge in his pants. As your vision pierces into him, you notice him shift his weight slightly, his hands balled tightly into fists by his sides.

“Why so tense, Mando?”

“I’m not—”

“Oh,” you echo his words from just minutes ago. Slowly slipping out of the chair, you stand to face him, squaring your shoulders. Pleasure heats up deep in your stomach, travelling down to the apex of your thighs, reminding you of how sore you actually are. “Is that right?”

“Stop that,” he warns. You got him.

“Not doing anything,” your voice sounding as innocent as you can while your eyes convey the opposite. You want him to know that you won’t give in so easily.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Do—” he starts but quickly composes himself. Craning his neck, his next words drip out of him slowly. “Drive me crazy.”

“Any of your other friends ever drive you crazy?”

Okay, that was a low blow, but you can’t shake the thought from your mind. For Maker’s sake, you’re an adult. Obviously he’s had lovers before, why is this so hard for you to accept? It’s not like you guys are together, you’re simply stuck with each other for the time being. Not only that, but you’ve had your fair share of men. He doesn’t seem to be jealous about that.

I’ll kill anyone who comes close to you.

“Mmm, are you… jealous?”

“Maker, no.” Lie.

“Then why are your cheeks red?”

Fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkfuck

Why does your face always have to give you away? You can play sabacc with the best deadpan expression in the galaxy, but right now you can’t even hide your resentment. How is Mando able to get under your skin and expose your every emotion, every thought? He pulls it out of you and basically presents it to you on a fucking platter.

“Because you annoy the shit out of me.”

“Your body is telling me otherwise.”

“Stop cheating! I can’t read your body heat, that’s not fair.”

“I’m not trying to play fair.”

All right, if this is how he wants to play, you’ll just have to be bolder. Taking a deep breath and exhaling through parted lips, your left foot moves forward, taking one big stride towards Mando, stopping just inches from his breastplate. You can practically feel his own heat vibrating off of him. His fists tighten even more, and you swear you can hear his breathing quicken, cutting up in the helmet.

“You’re not the only one who can play games, Mando.”

He makes a noise in his throat, somewhere between a growl and a groan. Stars, the air is getting thick, you’re all but drunk on this feeling. Your undergarments are stuck to your pussy, drenched with slick, waiting for someone to make the first move. The blood is pounding in your ears, but you try to maintain the best stony stare you can muster. This is a fight you’re not willing to lose. You bite down on your bottom lip, staring into the ‘T’ of his helmet through hooded lids. His chest pushes out slightly and his head angles to the side, just enough for you to see the underneath of his jaw. There’s some stubble poking out from the bottom of his helmet, and you lick your lips at the sight. Wanting to put your lips to his jawline and trail wet kisses along it, gently sucking at his skin. Maker, you might end up losing this if you don’t compose yourself.

“What do you want?” He asks, voice hoarse and low.

“For you to lose,” your answer is honest. You want him to break down and give in, just to give you the slightest bit of power.

Mando lets out this sound, a joyful sound you’ve only heard once or twice before but it nearly throws you for a loop. Hearing him laugh, even if it’s quick and low, fills you up with the greatest amount of delight. To see someone who’s always stoic and serious let out a sound of pure pleasure, it makes up for all the times he purposely chooses to get under your skin. All the moments he infuriates you, it all goes away with the sound of his laugh.

At this moment, you’re grateful that his face is covered because you definitely would have crushed your lips together by now. His helmet actually works to your advantage, holding you back from doing the one thing you would have otherwise done by now.

“I’m not touching you,” he whispers. It sounds less like a statement to you and more like a reminder to himself. He’s fighting his urges just as much as you are, but you will continue to fight this until he breaks, he has to break.

“Then don’t.”

All of sudden, you both hear a disturbance coming from the hull. The kid must be getting into trouble down there.

“I’ll go check on him,” you tell him, choosing not to wait for Mando to say anything in return before making your way to the ladder of the cockpit. Fighting the urge to take one last look at him before disappearing down the rungs, you head down to the hull and see Grogu rummaging through the various crates placed around the Crest. Once he sees you, he shows you a big toothy grin and runs straight for you, arms stretched out. You bend down and pick him up, holding him close to your chest.

“Hey, kiddo. What trouble are you getting yourself into down here?”

Grogu babbles something at you and you smile in return. A small grumble, something like an animal growling, comes from the baby’s stomach and his ears droop down.

“Hungry, little guy? Let’s see what we got for you.”

Walking down the hull with the kid in your arms, you stop at the small closest Mando keeps his ration packs. There aren’t many packs left, just enough to hold all three of you down until you land on Coruscant. After that, you’ll need to buy some more packs. Grabbing one of the packages and a bowl from one of the shelves, you prop the kid on one of the smaller crates and begin emptying the contents of the pack in the durasteel dish.

It’s a dark green looking blob. Quite frankly, you hate ration packs. They always look like food that’s been mashed together into a jelly bar and even despite the fact that once you add water to it so that it actually looks like food, just the sight of it in its raw form is enough to ruin your appetite. The kid doesn’t care about all that though; he’d eat anything you give him. Back on Sorgan, you had seen him eat a frog whole—just swallowed it without even a second thought. It was impressive and yet totally gross at the same time.

Leaving him on the box momentarily, you walk over to the sink in the privy and let a few droplets of water touch the blob in the bowl. Within seconds, the bar transforms into a small bread roll. It’ll hopefully be enough to tie him down for a few hours.

Passing by the ladder, you call out to Mando. “Hey, I’m about to feed the kid. Do you want to come down for a meal?”

“Not hungry. Thank you,” you hear him answer. He never eats with you two. Given that he needs to take off his helmet in order to feed himself, he chooses to wait until you’re both asleep or nowhere in sight, but that doesn’t stop you from asking each time. Part of it is so that he feels included but mostly you hope that one day he’ll choose to sit with you both. One day, you think to yourself.

When you hand the bowl over to Grogu gently, he takes it with both hands and begins eating the bread like it’s the first meal he’s ever had. Your brows pull tightly together as you watch him devour his food. For such a small creature, he sure eats like a bantha. He could probably eat for a whole day without stopping to catch his breath.

It’ll never seize to amaze you just how strong this little guy is. He’s so tiny and somehow, he possesses a power stronger than you could ever really understand. This is the same kid that saved Mando’s life from a mudhorn. This is the kid that swallowed a whole frog that was half his size. A child this small is somehow a Jedi.

Once he’s done eating, he peers up at you with big, black eyes and coos at you.

“Nah, I’m not hungry right now, kid,” you answer as if you understand what he’s saying to you. Then again…maybe you can understand him.

Ahsoka said she and Grogu could feel each other’s thoughts. You should be able to do the same, right? Granted you have no training in the matter, but you were able to communicate with him once, surely you could do it again.

Your hand reaches out to him and you hook a finger around his hand. He grips around your index and squeezes you tenderly. Closing your eyes, you try to imagine what he could be thinking, what he might be trying to tell you. At first, you don’t hear or see anything—just darkness. A part of you wants to give up, nothing that it was worth a shot anyway, but you choose to press on. Focusing hard on Grogu, you relax the tension in your shoulders and take a deep breath, exhaling through your lips.

By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind…

A woman’s voice fills your mind, but you can’t make out any of her features. Focus, you tell yourself.

You are as its father.

A Mandalorian. She looks different than Mando. Her helmet looks to be made of gold, with horns erecting from the very top. Her armor appeared to be different as well. Unlike Mando’s shiny, chrome beskar, her cuirass is a reddish brown and instead of a cape, she wears a fur coat on her back. Immediately, you got the impression she’s a warrior of her own nature, just as cunning as Mando, but in a swifter, more agile way, unlike Mando’s brash style of battle.

Just as the moment appeared, it vanished, filling your mind with images of sand dunes. Suddenly, you’re back in Mos Eisley. Only this time, you’re much younger, playing on the outskirts of the city with Tye.

“Tye, I’m tired,” you whine out to him. He’s running around the sand, punting a ball at you and then taking it away when you opt not to kick it back to him.

“Oh come on, we have to head back soon anyway. Just a little bit longer.”

It’s hard to hide your disappointment. Really, you just want to be inside. Today is such a blazingly hot day, and water is at its peak in scarcity. Most folks will be inside all day, avoiding the scorching heat. Less time outdoors means less water consumed, but Tye never listens to what he’s told. He does whatever he wants and drags you along with him and unfortunately, you have a hard time saying no to him, so you’re almost always roped into his shenanigans.

“Tyyyyyyye,” you drawl out. “I want to go inside! It’s too hot!”

Just as you say that a giant spacecraft enters the atmosphere, covering the entire surrounding area in shadows. You look up at the giant structure in awe. You’ve never seen a spacecraft so grand before, jaw dropping as you watch two smaller vessels appear from the hovering fortress above your heads. They drop down a little less than a click away. By now, Tye is at your side, both of you watching men in white uniforms exit the ships, charging towards your direction. An immediate fear washes over you, grabbing Tye’s wrist and running to hide behind a nearby moisture vaporator. Your heart is racing, and you feel Tye’s own panic coursing through your veins.

“Wh-what’s going on?” He whispers, voice shaking as he speaks.

“I don’t know…”

The men pass you by, not even taking a second to look around them. Their heads stay glued to what’s in front of them, hands gripping onto giant guns you’ve never seen before. Just as fast as they came, they disappear into the city. Screams and shrieks suddenly break out. People scatter, running out of the city walls in mass hysteria. Your legs itch to run, to find your parents, but Tye senses your urgency and grabs your forearm.

“We have to stay.”

“But—”

He whispers your name. “We don’t know who those people are. We’re safer here.”

Your bottom lip begins to quiver. Tears form in the corners of your eyes as the screams of the villagers echo through the city walls, causing you to wince. Tye wraps his arms around you, and you embrace each other, weeping silently in each other’s arms, praying to the Maker that these soldiers leave. The sound of Tye repeating, “It’s okay. We’re okay,” echoing in your mind.

It’s only when the sun begins to set that the town becomes quiet. The spacecrafts are gone, leaving no trace that they were even here. Your eyes are swollen from the tears, and you feel overwhelmingly exhausted. Body still shaking, burning off adrenaline and fear. Standing up is difficult, your knees are buckling but the need to see your parents is stronger than the quaking of your legs. You wake Tye up by shaking his shoulder gently.

“They’re gone. We have to head back.”

He rubs at his eyes with the heel of his palms. At first it doesn’t seem like he fully understands you, but when he looks up and doesn’t see the ship from before, he all but jumps up, dusting the sand off his clothes and charging right into the city.

“Tye! Wait up!” You shout after him, but he doesn’t relent. Taking large strides, you attempt to catch up with him, running past weeping elders, hysterical children, and what appears to be dead bodies all around you. Your mind doesn’t allow you to process what you’re seeing, you’re just too focused on catching up with Tye and then finding your parents.

His name being called in the distance stops him dead in his tracks.

“Mama! Papa!” He cries out, pivoting around in hopes to see someone he knows. When you finally manage to catch up to him, his mother appears from the shadows, tears streaming down her face. From the faint streetlights, her cheeks are dark red, and her eyes are just as swollen as you assume yours are.

“Sweetheart!” She shouts as she races to you both, wrapping you up in her arms and squeezing you until the air is all but knocked out of your lungs. It hurts, but you hold on to her anyway, feeling her warm, motherly touch.

“Where’s Papa?” He asks in the crook of his mother’s neck. Tye’s voice is hoarse from crying and yelling, and she attempts to soothe him by gently shushing him.

“It’s okay, son. We’re okay.”

“I have to get home,” you say, pulling away from her grip.

“Honey…”

The look on her face… you’ll never forget it. Tears welling up in her eyes, her jaw slacking because she wants to say something but not knowing how to say it. The pain you see in her green eyes, it’s like she’s just watched a loved one die right in front of her. Fear and anguish hit you in waves, crashing down on you more aggressively with every second that goes by.

“No…” Your voice is barely above a whisper. Taking a step away from her, her arm reaches out to you.

“Sweetie…” she tries again.

Shaking your head in panic, you turn on your heel in one swift movement and disappear down one of the quieter streets and make for your home. As you race in the direction of your dwelling, your heart bangs against your ribcage, tears flying down your cheeks. You can’t even see where you’re going due to the water in your eyes, but you keep trekking on. Nothing’s going to stop you. Throat unbearably tight, you can barely let in little breaths as you turn the corner to where you live.

When you reach the street, you stop so suddenly that you almost tumble down on the ground, somehow managing to catch yourself at the last moment, your breathing ridiculously erratic. There’s a horde of adults crowding the front door to where you live. Your feet carry you to them at a painstakingly slow pace. Blood pounding in your ears, you can barely make out what anyone is saying. When someone finally catches sight of you, they rush towards you, dropping down to their knees to meet your eye level.

“Sweetie, we can’t let you go in there.”

“But t-t-that’s my h-ho-me,” you manage to say through shaky breaths.

“I know, but we ca—”

You push passed them before they can finish speaking and dart passed several other people trying to stop you until you squeeze through the half-open door into your house, pressing a button on the control panel by the doorway. The door hisses shut.

There’s only a bit of light offered inside. To your left, you see the table you’d sit at with your parents for supper. The chairs are tucked neatly under the table. You’re not sure if the banging you hear is from someone outside trying to get in, or if it’s your heart thumping against your chest but it doesn’t deter you from searching for your parents.

As you continue to scan the area, there’s a couple of cups lying around on the counter, but other than that, nothing is out of place. Relief begins to settle in but is rapidly replaced by sheer terror when you finally shift your head to the right. Then, you see them.

Your parents lying face down on the floor.

“No!” You cry out, running to them and dropping to your knees to hover over their bodies.

There’s a blaster sized hole in your father’s back, heat still steaming off his wound. Your screams could be heard from the other end of the city, clutching onto their lifeless bodies as you beg for them to wake up.

“Please, wake up. Mama, Papa. P-please!”

Someone pulls you off of them, wrapping their arms around your torso. Your arms flail around, clawing and scratching at whoever’s holding onto you. “Let me go! My parents! Let me go!” Your voice is shrill and hoarse, becoming more hysterical, but they never let go. Your parents become smaller and smaller as you’re carried away from them. The last thing you remember is seeing the door to your home whoosh shut…

Your body jolts, and you’re not on Tatooine, anymore. You’re on the Razor Crest. Grogu sits just a foot away from you, peering up at your shivering body. Somehow, you exposed a memory you had sworn to never remember. After that day, you locked that memory up in a part of your brain and shut it off, choosing never to think about it again. The pain was too much for you to handle. Instead of facing your pain, you always chose to ignore it, to pretend it didn’t exist. Once again, compartmentalizing your trauma and locking it away for good.

Grogu fusses and when you look down to him, his eyes begin to flutter. Poor thing gets so sleepy whenever he messes with the Force. You pick him up and hold him close to your chest, making your way to Mando’s bunk. As you pass the ladder, the kid fusses and makes grabby hands for the ladder.

“You want Mando?” You ask him, and Grogu babbles in response.

Climbing the ladder with him in your arms is a bit difficult, but you’re able to get to the top without too much of a struggle.

“He wants to be with you,” you tell him.

Mando swivels his chair around to face you. Extending his arms out to you, you hand Grogu over to him and your hands briefly touch. The brushing of your hands suddenly reminds you of the game you were in the middle of playing just before the kid decided to explore the cargo hold.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Turning on your heel, you head down the ladder quickly. How is it that over the course of just a few hours, you could go through so much emotional turmoil? Honestly, you haven’t even been awake for that long, but you’re already wanting to take a nap.

Fuck it, there’s nothing else to go in this hunk of metal, and Mando’s probably busy with the kid, so you decide to let your body rest. Crawling into the little cubby hole and shutting the door closed, you close your eyes and hope your body will allow you some peace of mind.

You’re reminded of why you hate naps so much when you wake up. Instead of feeling refreshed, you always end up feeling much worse. First off, you always wake up in a cold sweat and feeling super groggy. Quite frankly, it does the exact opposite of what you hoped a nap would do. Secondly? Mando’s cot is unbearably hard. It shouldn’t be considered a bed; it resembles more like duracrete than anything else. As much as you like finally being able to sleep not sitting up in that kriffing passenger chair, this is another struggle of its own.

Pushing the button on the control panel by the door, it opens with a swift motion. The first thing you clock is that the Crest’s lights are almost all out, making it damn near impossible for you to even see your hand in front of your face. How in the hell is Mando able to walk around here not being able to see a single thing? The second thing you notice is the sound of running water. He must be taking a sanisteam.

To think that just on the other side of that wall, he’s naked and wet? If it were anybody else, you’d strip out of your clothes and join them, but things aren’t that simple with Mando. There are boundaries you wouldn’t dare cross unless he gives you his consent. Rather than frustrate you, it entices you even more. It keeps you wanting more and more, especially because he can’t just give you everything you want, whenever you want. No, you have to work for it.

Realizing that now you’re basically just standing outside the fresher like a creep, you head up to the cockpit in search of the kid. Just like you suspected, he’s sound asleep in one of the passengers’ chairs, wrapped up in what looks to be Mando’s cape. The thought of Mando taking off his cape to wrap Grogu up makes you stupidly giddy.

Treading carefully as to not make any noise to wake him up, you tiptoe back to the ladder and shut the cockpit door, your feet barely touching the rungs as you descend back down to the hull.

Something in your stomach growls, and you’re suddenly reminded that you haven’t eaten since… yesterday? Kriff, has it really been that long since your last meal? You head over to the pantry where the packs are kept, extending your arms out in front of you so you don’t bang into anything on your way there, and grab the first pack your hand touches, not having a preference as to what you’ll be eating today—tonight? You don’t even know what time of the day it is. Time in hyperspace can be difficult to keep track of. The only way you’d know what time it is is if you checked the control panel back up in the cockpit and right now, it’s just not worth the trip.

The pack itself feels sloshy in your hands; it’s probably some kind soup. Reaching into the closet again, your hand searches for a bowl to put your meal in.

Mando will be out of the fresher at any moment now, given that the water’s been turned off for a minute or two. The door to the fresher wooshes open and out of reflex, you shut your eyes but are quickly reminded that the hull is so faintly lit that even with your eyes open you wouldn’t be able to see him, but just to be safe, you announce your presence.

“I heard you,” is all you hear back.

“Can you turn the lights on a little bit more? I can barely see a thing and I really don’t feel like dropping my soup all over your ship.”

He doesn’t answer but within seconds the Crest transforms from a dark abyss to a twinkling, starry night. Not unlike the ones you’d spend hours staring at with Tye in the sand dunes during your teenage years.

Your head spins to your left, selfishly hoping to catch a sight of Mando, and Maker do your eyes latch onto him.

He’s not wearing a shirt, first of all. This is the most of his skin that you’ve ever seen before. The warm lights flickering off his back accentuates the curves of his muscles, concaving in certain areas and then protruding in others, outlining every bit of toned tissue. You can vaguely make out a few water droplets trailing down his golden skin, and it’s seriously taking all the self-control you have not to close the gap between you both and lick them off his back. An ache begins to build in the apex of your thighs, and you start to rub your legs together in an effort to alleviate some of the heat stirring inside you. Still wearing the kriffing helmet, though.

The second thing you notice is the vast amount of scarring on his skin. Each scar representing a different battle. You could probably lay him flat on his stomach, and his back would appear like a visual biography of his life, each mark giving you an understanding into his past, and the tests and trials he’s had to overcome over the years.

What were you trying to do, again?

Food.

You need food.

“Do you—” you squeak. Pull yourself together. Clearing your throat in hopes your tone will go back down to its normal octave, you repeat yourself. “Do you want any soup?”

“No t—” he begins to say but you cut him off before he can finish. You knew he’d say he wasn’t hungry.

“Have you eaten today?” Your eyes stay glued to the bowl in front of you. You’re certain that if you so much as looked at him again, you’d forget about the damned soup and pounce on him like loth cat.

“No.”

“Then you’re eating.”

Taking a second bowl from the shelf, you divide the soup evenly between both cups and begin making your way over to Mando, keeping your head down in the off chance he’s still not wearing a shirt, you don’t want to seem like you’re gawking at him.

“You can look,” he clarifies, noting the way you refuse to look up from ground.

When your eyes finally shift from the ground to look at him, he’s now wearing a black long-sleeved tunic that hugs his figure in ways that should be illegal. Your jaw is practically hanging and swallowing the lump in your throat causes a sound somewhere close to a moan to expel from your mouth, but you’re quick enough to stifle it with a cough.

As you hand him the bowl of soup, you’re feeling incredibly shy for some reason, your hand extending out and trembling as he takes it from you.

“I’ll eat in the cockpit to give you some privacy,” you tell him as you put your hand on the railing.

“No,” he says immediately, grabbing your forearm and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Stay.”

Lips curling upwards into a smile, you end up biting down on your bottom lip to keep the smile from growing and growing as you replay that in your mind.

Stay.

Moving away from the ladder, Mando pulls out one of the smaller crates and seats himself down on it. As you begin to look around for another box you could sit on yourself, he watches you closely.

“You can sit here, if you want.”

“Oh, okay.”

Once you’re seated, you begin to take small sips of your soup. Mando reaches over to where his vambrace is—scattered somewhere on another crate and presses a button on it. The Crest’s lights fade even more, leaving you both in almost complete darkness.

A muffled hiss fills the air, and you hear beskar touch the durasteel ground. You eat in silence for a few minutes, hearing only each other’s sips as you continue to fill your bellies with food. It’s incredibly domestic. A Mandalorian and a…well you’re not really sure what you should label yourself as, but you’ll stick with smuggler for now; the two of you eating together like an actual couple—even if that’s far from what your relationship actually is.

“No amour?” You decide to ask, trying to make a bit of small talk in the pitch-black abyss.

“Someone told me I had to ‘loosen up’,” he jests, knocking his elbow against your arm. Maker, you’ll never get tired of hearing that unmodulated voice of his. Something as simple of a voice shouldn’t make you feel the way it does. For a man who kills for a living, he speaks with such a gentle intonation.

It’s such a juxtaposition, really. In full body armor, Mando is definitely one of the most feared hunters in the galaxy. He’ll kill if something threatens his life or the kid’s life. Impossible to read, impossible to predict. But right now? He’s the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him. No helmet, no amour. His guard is as down as you’ve ever seen and is willing himself to be naked with you, even if he’s still fully clothed. How you were able to find yourself in this situation is something you might never be able to fully understand, but it is truly the greatest gift you could have ever been given.

“I’m sorry about before,” you whispers, feeling guilty about how you approached the question about his helmet. “I didn’t mean to pressure you about your Creed.”

It’s not fair for you to come down so hard on him. You might not understand why he chooses to live his life with such restrictions, but it really isn’t any of your business.

“It’s fine.”

You still feel angry with yourself for acting the way you did, but if Mando says it’s fine, the last thing you’ll do is continue your self-loathing and make him feel uncomfortable about the whole thing.

Taking the last sip of soup and feeling satisfied with your meal, you push yourself to your feet. “Are you finished?” you ask him.

“Yes, thank you.”

You search aimlessly in the dark for a moment in search of his dish and accidentally knock the bowl right out of his hand, hearing it tumble on the ground.

“Shit, sorry,” you curse, dropping to your knees in search for it. While frantically searching for the dish, you feel his hand caress the small of your back, sending shivers through your spine.

You’re starting to feel pretty flustered, the fact that you’re both in the darkness doesn’t help. There’s no way of anticipating what could happen and that’s exhilarating and unnerving. Of course, you eventually find the bowl and Mando’s hand disappears from your back once you get back on your feet.

Walking over to the pantry where the ration packs are, you place the bowls on the shelf, making a mental reminder to wash them later. Just as you’re about to turn around and head back to where you think Mando is, you suddenly feel a presence behind you. Two hands grip onto either side of your hips and he presses his body against yours, pushing you right up against the little closet. A moan escapes your lips without even realizing it, and you can feel his hot breath tickle the crook of your neck.

��I’ve wanted to touch you all fucking day,” he growls in your ear.

Holy Maker, the heat in your stomach is somehow already becoming too much. You’re basically panting, the blood in your ears is almost deafening.

“I’ve been watching the way you’re walking. Did I hurt you? Do you still feel me?”

“Stars,” you breathe out.

Mando presses his lips to your skin, sending shockwaves through your entire core. You can feel his stubble prick your neck and it’s everything you didn’t know you craved. It feels deliciously rough.

Your hands brace themselves against the door, it’s the only way you can keep yourself upright. Knees already buckling, feeling the heat pooling from your cunt and drenching your underwear with slick. One of his hands begin to trail away from your hip and trace the waistband to your trousers. Instead of teasing you though, his hand wastes no time pushing passed your pants and panties, finding his way down to your cunt and cupping it with such force you jerk forwards, groaning as his hand finds your clit.

“Already so wet for me.”

Fingers leaving your bud, he slides them between your folds, gathering your slick on his calloused fingertips and then he’s shoving a thick finger deep inside you. His free hand flies to your throat, applying slight pressure with his thumb and index on that sweet spot underneath your jawline.

“Fuck,” you cry out brokenly. It doesn’t fill you up nearly as much as his cock does, but the way he moves inside of you, hitting that spot inside you no one has ever touched, marking it as his, causes you to see fucking stars.

Mando nips at your neck, alternating between sloppy kisses and bites hard enough to cause bruises, you can already feel an orgasm stirring inside you. You clench around his digit, feeling yourself climb higher and higher.

“Are you already close?” He mutters in between kisses and nibbles.

“Shit, fuck I-I think so.”

Your hand finds its way to the back of his head, grabbing fistfuls of his soft, damp locks and pulling hard, causing Mando to groan in your ear and buck his hips into yours. You can feel the outline of his rock-hard rock against your ass, and you grind into him, feeling his length burrow between your cheeks. You’re so close to your climax already.

Without missing a beat, he pulls out of you and his hand disappears from between your thighs.

“W-why?”

Grabbing your hips, he flips you around to face him.

“Up,” he instructs.

You linger there for a moment, unsure of what he’s asking you to do. When you don’t move, his hands grab onto your waist and lift you off the ground without so much of a groan. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist and your arms cross around the back of his neck, your head leaning on his shoulder. He walks over to the little bunk in the corner of the hull and lowers you onto the mattress gently, being mindful not to hit your head on the small doorway.

Feeling your heart pound against your ribcage, the thrill of not being able to see him at all and not having a clue as to what he’ll do next, it’s incredibly sensual. Your legs unwrap themselves from his waist and dangle off the edge of the cot. His hands trail up to the waistband of your pants and tugs them down off your ass. Lifting your hips up to help him, he takes them—along with your underwear, off and you hear them thump to the floor.

Hands returning to your skin, he hooks thems under your calves and lifts them up so your bent at the knees, feet resting on the edge of the bunk.

The anticipation is getting to you. He continues to take his agonizingly sweet time running the tips of fingers on your naked skin, causing you to shiver and goosebumps to form on your skin. Lifting one of your legs and placing it over his shoulders, he peppers kisses from your ankle all the way to your inner thigh and repeats the same taunt with the other leg. Both of them now resting on his shoulders, he drops to his knees in front of you. Suddenly feeling nervous, you try to close your legs and end up squeezing his head by accident.

“Shit, sorry,” you whisper, propping yourself on your elbows.

“Shhh,” he hushes, placing a large hand on your sternum and pushing you back down on the cot gingerly, and then his lips are on your skin again, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle bites all over your inner thighs, slowly getting closer to your throbbing pussy but never getting close enough to relieve the pressure building.

“Mando, please,” you whimper.

“Do I have to gag you?”

Shit… How is he able to make that sound so fucking hot?

“I’m going to take care of you, but you have to be quiet. Can you do that?” His voice is gentle but commanding.

“Yes,” you breathe out.

“Good girl.”

His tongue glides over your clit and there’s no controlling the moan that rips through you. Pulling away immediately, Mando stands up and presses his body into yours, his mouth merely inches away from yours, his large hand cupping just underneath your jaw.

“What did I say, pretty girl?”

You can feel his hot breath on your lips. If you just moved even the littlest bit forward, your lips would meet his. Licking your lips, you wrench your eyes shut to keep you from closing the gap.

“To be quiet,” you manage to say through ragged breaths.

“So be quiet,” he hisses, feeling his teeth sink into your bottom lip for just a second and then his weight is off you, returning to your thighs. His arms wrap around your thighs, keeping them pinned over his shoulders. Now, he wastes no time lapping you up, flicking your clit with his tongue with such a mind-blowing rhythm you have to throw your arm over your mouth and bite down on your skin to keep from making any noise. Mando never relents, developing the perfect torture. He plays with your bud then practically shoves his entire fucking face in your cunt, pushing his tongue inside you as far as it can go. It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to bubble up to the surface, threatening to burst. It’s all too much, your body starts to shake from the sensations.

You’re close, you’re so fucking close. Dropping your arm to your side, your voice hoarse from stifling all your cries, you’re somehow able to find the strength to say, “I’m gonna come.”

“No,” is all he answers.

No?

“W-w-what?”

“Hold it,” he says hastily, then continues his assault on your pussy.

How in kriffing hell are you supposed to hold it? You’re basically already there and he’s denying you it. You can’t hold on; you can’t stop it.

“I c-can’t,” you confess.

And then he stops. His tongue leaves you, his hands leave your skin, and you’re left there on the bed, legs hanging off the cot, chest heaving from being so fucking close and then being denied at the very last second.

“What the fuck?” You ask breathlessly, a hint of anger but mostly disappointment in your tone.

You hear him make a noise and then something wet trickles down your clit down to your entrance. It’s…sticky and warm. Did he just spit on you?

Lifting your legs back up and letting your feet balance on the very edge of the bunk, his cock rubs against you, angling the tip of himself to slide between your folds, mixing your slick, his spit and precome all over his length and you. Mando continues to tease you, lining himself up with your entrance but never sheathing himself inside you. It’s driving you fucking insane, even angling your hips whenever he does, hoping he’ll lose his self-control and plunge into you, but it only spurs him on. He knows how much it’s annoying you and he’s fucking thriving on it.

“If you don’t start fucking me soon…” you warn.

Mando actually laughs at you, like this is all a big joke to him. Anger begins to mix with your arousal, this is maddening. Why won’t he just fuck you already?

All of a sudden, he slams into you with so much power, you actually slide up the cot, and you wail feeling so fucking full and tight, your cry filling the small space you’re in. You’re still sore from the night before and feeling him stretch your walls again is almost unbearable, but it feels too fucking good. You’ll take every fucking inch of him without a single complaint. Then, just as your pussy begins to acclimate to him, he pulls out, hiking your shirt up just enough for him to grab onto your naked waist and pulling you back down closer to him.

“Mando!”

He leans over you once again, a hand cradles the back of your head while his thumb rubs your cheek tenderly. “If this gets to be too much, just tell me to stop and I will.”

Letting out a deep breath through your lips, you nod.

“Words.”

“I’ll tell you to stop.”

“Good.”

Thrusting his hips against you, his cock continues to grind along your slit, making you dizzy from both the lack of touch and the taunting of his cock against you.

“Maker, you’re so fucking wet. You sure you didn’t come?”

Words aren’t something you’re capable of forming so you’re stuck resorting to answering him with broken sobs. Practically writhing from all the overstimulation and lack of, from him toying with you, the pressure in your cunt actually fucking hurts, you’re nearly begging for some release. Adding onto the fact that you can’t see a fucking thing, it heightens all your other senses. They compensate for your lack of vision; everything feels so much more intense than you ever could have imagined.

No one could ever drive you to the brink of madness and pull you back in at the last second. No one could possibly make you feel so satisfied yet deprived. You’re convinced you’ve traveled the galaxy in search of him, that your soul was missing a piece so small, you didn’t even know it was missing until Mando filled that void. He’s etched into your skin, your bones, your veins. Every nerve ending tissue has been electrified by this enigma of a man. A man who wouldn’t hesitate to kill those who’d try to come between him and his clan.

Kriff, you’re drained already. He hasn’t even begun to fuck you, but waves of exhaustion are coming over you. Mando’s still fucking teasing you, only ever prodding the tip of himself inside you and then pulling away before he can truly fill you up.

He said if this became too much for you to handle, all you had to do was say the word and he’d stop. You’re starting to consider it; you don’t think you can handle much more of the slow torture he’s inflicting.

Just as your jaw slackens, he slams into you in a sift motion, fully immersing himself inside your swollen walls.

“Fuck!” You pant out, wrenching your eyes shut and feeling tears trinkle down your cheeks. Mando doesn’t move one bit, just sits inside you like he’s waiting for you to adjust yourself to the size of him.

“Shit, you’re tight. Gonna train that pretty cunt of yours to mold to my cock,” he grits out. Big hands hold you down by the waist, and he ever so slooooowly eases out of you only to ram into you again, all the way to the hilt. You’re seeing stars, every move, every thrust bringing you closer to euphoria. The only thing your mind can process is how fucking amazing it feels to be clenched around his cock. It’s mind bending, it’s intoxicating, you’ll never get used to the way he fucking tortures you.

He develops a downright brutal pace, pulling out just enough for his tip to pierce your walls and then pounding into you, growling every time he touches your cervix. Once he’s fully immersed inside you, he bucks his hips and practically jackhammers his cock inside you. A sheen of sweat covering both your bodies causes the sound of skin slapping against skin to sound so wet and fucking obscene. Still pounding into you, Mando’s hands leave your waist to grab under your thighs, lifting them up to hang off his shoulders. Pushing down on the backs of your thighs, he practically bends you in half at the knees, an arm on either side of your head, and then begins a pace so fast and brutal, you’re sure you’ll be sore for weeks. The spot he’s hitting right now is one you didn’t think was even possible. It knocks all the air out of your lungs, you can’t even make a goddamn sound. Your throat is bone dry, and whatever pathetic sounds that escape you are barely audible and breathless.

“Stars, you feel fucking amazing,” he mutters in your ear, and then he’s sucking at your neck, bruising the skin.

Mouth agape, you’re so fucking close to coming, a part of you doesn’t even want to tell him how close you are in case he stops. You don’t think you could physically handle it if he denied you again.

“Do you hear yourself? Do you hear how much fucking noise your little cunt is making?”

On a normal day, Mando says as little as possible, giving you a quick sentence in response or even a one-word answer, but when he’s balls deep inside you, he can’t seem to shut up. He turns into a blabbering mess, offering you praise after praise like it’s a fucking prayer. Mando makes a note of everything. He comments on your gushing pussy, how your walls clench around him as you get closer and closer to your orgasm, how no one will ever touch you again.

How you’re his.

And you? You can barely throw two words together. You’re on the brink of losing your goddamn mind. Is this what being on spice is like? Feeling a sense of euphoria that hits you wave after wave, each one stronger and more intense than the last, teetering the line between sanity and insanity.

“…mine,” you hear him snarl. Reality doesn’t even feel real anymore, you can barely make out what he’s saying to you.

Something like a whimper slips through your parted lips.

“Now, come for me.”

He barely finishes speaking before your orgasm tears right through you. It begins deep inside you and is quickly shattering the earth around you. Crying out so loud Mando has to slap his hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds expelling from your lips. He continues to pound into your pussy, riding out the ripples of your climax, not relenting even for one moment. There isn’t any fucking air in your lungs—Mando’s weight is still pressing you into the cot and your climax is so strong, your chest is way passed heaving now.

You’ll be chasing this high for the rest of your life, the feeling of Mando unleashing his feral instincts on you, and you just helplessly letting him take control of you—it’s unlike anything you ever could have imagined.

“Good girl,” he praises. When you don’t immediately answer, still in a haze from the mind-shattering orgasm that just expelled out of you, Mando stills, cupping your face with his hand and murmurs, “Are you okay?”

Your lips part, and your brain desperately tries to find any word that might help him understand that you’re okay and also anything but okay. Only being able to breathe in quick, sharp breaths, Mando places a kiss on your jaw and repeats in the gentlest tone you’ve ever heard him speak, “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

Shaking your head frantically, you attempt to moisten your throat by swallowing, and it gives you enough to answer, “I’m okay.”

“Do you want me to stop?” He reiterates.

“No,” you croak.

“Are you sure?” Stars, how can he be so relentless in the way he fucks you and switch into a nurturer so quickly?

“Mmm. Please f-fuck me,” you mewl against him.

His cock twitches at your plea, and he obliges. In an effort to help you climb down from the overstimulation, he eases in and out of you at a deliciously hard, but slow pace, and then he does something you couldn’t have been prepared for. Your lips are slightly parted, letting in little bursts of air to help calm your breathing, and suddenly, you feel wet, soft lips clash onto yours. Instinctively, you yelp into his mouth from the unexpected touch, but you quickly acclimate to it, feeling your lips move on his. It’s a little awkward at first, you get the impression Mando hasn’t kissed many people in his life, because your teeth end up clashing together a few times. He fucking giggles into your mouth and you all but melt into the cot. His tongue slips passed your lips and meets yours and you can taste yourself and broth on his tongue. Your hands find their way to his hair, grabbing fistfuls of it, pressing your lips even deeper on his. Mando moans low in his throat and you can feel the vibrations ripple in your own mouth.

He makes to pull away, but you keep his lips locked on yours, using your hands to keep him where you want him. He gives in without hesitation, letting you take control of the kiss as he continues to ram into you. The dreams you’ve had of this moment, the moment you’d feel his mouth on yours doesn’t even come close to the feeling of it happening to you right now. It all makes sense now. Every kiss you’ve had previously was just practice for this. It was all just preparing you for this defining moment, the moment you’d finally be able to break through Mando’s heavily guarded walls. Every smack of your lips, every flick your tongues, every broken moan in each other’s throats, they’re all just feats breaking down the duracrete barrier that he’s forced himself to build over the years.

Bodies intertwined, every part of yourselves wrapped up in the other, it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins, and you suppose that’s how this is was always supposed to be. Each of you were missing the same piece— the inability to be perceived as anything but a person of strong will. Believing that vulnerability was a weakness, instead of something that should be treasured, and without knowing it, your paths crossed and challenged every part of your identity.

Foundling, Mandalorian, bounty hunter, father.

Orphan, mechanic, smuggler, Jedi.

Those shouldn’t mix together as perfectly as they do, but stars, does it feel like everything finally makes sense.

A second orgasm begins to brew in your stomach, but you don’t dare pull away from Mando’s lips. You’ll never pull away until he forces himself off of you.

He leaves your lips for just a moment, panting and his own chest heaving against yours. “Maker, you’re gonna make me come.”

“Shhh,” Tugging desperately at his hair, you close the small gap between you and slosh your mouths together. You both whimper brokenly on each other’s lips, and Mando slams into you three more times before his hips still, feeling his cock pump his seed into your soaking pussy. Just as he begins to come, your second climax reaches its peak and crashes into you. His hands are back on your waist, digging his fingernails into your skin. Whatever moans you both cry out are muffled by each other’s’ mouths, catching the sound and swallowing it, burying it deep inside one another.

When you come start to come down from your climaxes, Mando drops his head to the crook of your neck, burying his face into your skin and pressing sloppy, chaste kisses right where your jaw meets your neck.

“I—” You attempt to speak, but your vocal cords are so raw, it hurts even just making a sound. You’re still practically bent in half, and your legs are burning up. Resorting to stir around hoping he’ll get the message, Mando pulls off of you, using both his hands to very gently bring them down his shoulders, one by one, once again giving each of your inner thighs some tender pecks. Pulling out of you, his come seeps out of your completely worn out slit. He peppers a few kisses along your waist, and then you hear his footsteps retreat.

“Where—” You begin to say, making to slowly prop yourself on your elbows.

“I’m still here,” he assures you.

You can hear him moving things around, and you seriously wish there was some kind of light allowing you to see what he’s doing but given that your eyes have gotten used to being in complete darkness, you’re sure you’d be blinded by even the smallest amount of light right now.

A few minutes go by and then you feel his hands on your hips, pulling you down the cot. Once he feels like your head won’t hit the top of the bunk, he lifts you off your feet, wrapping his arms around your back, and in turn you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you for a couple steps and then brings you down onto what you expect will be the cold ground. Instead, you feel cotton on your back as he lowers you down.

“Where did you—?”

“I have a couple of extra capes in case one gets too battered,” he says, answering your question before you can finish asking it.

As soon as your head touches the ground, you feel your eyelids shut, exhaustion overpowering you. Turning over on your side and hiking up one of your legs up so that your knee lines up with your chest, you don’t even care that your own slick and his seed is practically dripping down your legs. You don’t care that you’re still naked from the waist down. The only thing you care about is falling asleep, preferably in Mando’s arms.

“Don’t sleep yet. Need to clean you up,”

“Mmm,” you protest. “Later.”

Mando chuckles lightly and then he’s wiping the slick off your legs and entrance with what feels like… a pair of trousers.

“Are you using my pants to clean that up?”

“It’s the first thing I grabbed. I’ll wash it.”

“Mmm, you better,” you mumble into your arm.

Now, you’re starting to slip in and out of consciousness, fatigue taking you over. Mando rummages around the hull for a bit longer, and then joins you on the floor, throwing what you assume is another cape, over your half naked body. You don’t even have the energy to move your body over towards his, but he doesn’t seem to mind. You’re both still close enough to feel the heat radiating off each other’s skin.

“Hey, Mando?”

“Yes?”

“I won.”

Things are quiet for a few minutes after that, and you’re on the verge of falling asleep when his velvety smooth voice breaks through the silence of the Crest.

“Blue,” his voice is low and barely audible.

“Mmm?” You mumble, desperately trying to stay awake.

“I…like the color blue.”

Okay, now that puts a stupid, hazy smile on your face. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Any particular shade of blue? Bright… dark?” You may be barely conscious, but you hang onto every word he says.

“I guess… dark.”

“Mmm,” you hum. “Why do you like that color?”

He lets out a deep breath, like he’s about to confess something to you that he hasn’t told anyone else. As if in this very moment, he’s about to give himself to you completely. “The Mandalorians that saved me from that battle droid in my village. Their armor was blue.”

Mando doesn’t elaborate any further, but he doesn’t have to. Feeling your heart tighten in your chest, you imagine what a young Mando must have been feeling when that droid pointed its guns at him. How he must have been utterly terrified and convinced that he was about to die. And then to be saved at the last moment. Seeing these warriors in blue armor coming to rescue him, to save his village from an even worse massacre. They were his saviors, it only makes sense that after all these years, that color would bring him solace and comfort.

It’s quite ironic, actually. Blues have the reputation of representing sadness or pain and you too have been accustomed to associating blue with your own trauma, and then here comes Mando.

The color symbolizes the exact opposite of what its known for. To him, it brings relief and reminds him of being saved; representing the beginning of a new life that he’s exemplified through and through. It’s a beautiful confession, and you’ll forever be searching for him in all the shades of blue that the galaxy has to offer.

Two opposites.

Yellow and blue.

One representing happiness and light. The other representing sadness and melancholy. Blend those two together and you create the fiercest of combinations. A beautiful balance of both extremes.

And when you think about it, what color does blue and yellow make?

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian smut #reader insert #we are one when together #fics

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clairecrive · 4 years

Text

“Burn” - Bane x reader [Requested]

A/N: this is for this anon. Thanks again for requesting! I missed writing for Bane.

Warnings: angst

Word count: 2.5K

Taglist: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @sopxhiea, @shadow-of-wonder, @fandom--0verdose, @fuseburner, @kind-wolf, @innerpaperexpertcloud (let me know if you wanna be added or removed)

The vastity of the night sky had always helped y/n ease her worries. Surely, whatever was bothering her couldn’t be as big and impossible to solve as she was making it out to be. Because, would you look at that? The universe is so big and we’re so small, so insignificant. and that applied to her problems too.

At least that was what she always told herself whenever she’d feel lost and hopeless. Thinking this way helped her put things into perspective. And sure, not everything was as easily solved but, even in that case, it helped a bit.

And so here they were, she and Bane were laying down staring up at the starry sky. Sometimes, they would spend it in silence, just enjoying the warmth and comfort the other’s body would bring. Others, like this one, they would easily fall into conversations about everything and nothing.

“Was there someone special in your life? Someone you wish to get back to?”

“You mean, romantically?”

He nodded.

“No. Single for life.” She did a peace sign to lighten up her embarrassment but Bane was curious and did not pay it any mind.

“You mean to tell me that you’ve never given your heart to anyone?”

“Well, if you put it that way I have to change my answer to yes. Being in a relationship with someone and giving someone your heart are two wholly different things.”

“Let me rephrase then. Have you ever been in love?”

She really thought about the answer, her mind going back to any romantic involvement she might have had during her life. Even if she scouted her memories, she found that it wasn’t a yes or no question.

“I guess,” not only was the word she chose explicative of her indecision but the tentative tone of her voice left no doubts as to where she was standing. But Bane was confused, to say the least.

“I’ve always been under the impression that love was one of those things where absolute certainty was involved when it came to its presence or absence.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. I have had mostly one-sided crushes, you know?” she started but Bane could see the faraway look in her eyes and knew that she had more to tell but was lacking the right words. So he waited.

“I said ‘I guess’ because I don’t really know what love is. I mean, everyone has a different take on it depending on their experiences but I don’t think I’ve ever felt it,” she paused turning to meet his eyes, “once there was a guy I strongly had feelings for. Even that was one-sided though and it took me a long time to recover from that because he was my best friend at the time. Looking back to it, I guess it was love or the closest thing to it that I’ve ever felt for someone. It hasn’t happened again though so I don’t have anything to compare it to.”

“Maybe it wasn’t love, just deep infatuation. Or maybe I just confused my love for him as a friend for something more. I don’t know. I guess I’ll figure it out when I fall in love with someone else. “ She concluded and refrained from correcting that when with if. she couldn’t see herself being as lucky as to have someone that cared about her and that loved her in the future. But Bane didn’t need to know that.

Turns out that those unspoken words had become a sort of oracle, ‘cause here they were now, years after they had that conversation. Just when she thought that she had found that one person to share her life with, to give her heart to, life quickly come into play letting her know that that wasn’t the case.

Because the man that had saved her from a destiny worse than death, who had given her hope and made her trust him to the point where she had felt safe enough to open up to him and allow him close to her heart, had now shattered whatever remained of it.

"So let me get this straight, first you save my life than you decide to keep me with you so you basically kidnap me, get me to fall in love with you, put me through an insanely difficult training so that I could stay with you but it was all done in vain because now you’re sending me away?"

"I'm not sending you away but you cannot stay here anymore. I’m doing this for you."

"And why is that? What changed?" and when Bane stayed silent she added, "what happened to 'I want you always' ?"

"I did not lie to you." His words were in striking contrast to the ones he had said before but y/n had learned to read him and could tell that this time he was not lying. But then the question naturally arises, what's really going on?

Nothing out of order had happened in the last few days. Bane and she had been the same as always, even his work had proceeded as usual. So what was it? What was she not thinking about? What was she not seeing?

Letting her mind go back through the last day to fat check that nothing happened, she went through their actions. Light breakfast together followed by a not so light tête à tête then they trained together until he had to deal with something for his work and she had occupied herself otherwise. She had called him to see when she could get dinner started and he said that he had a meeting with Talia first but had come right after. They had dinner and while they consumed their healthy and perfectly balanced meal she shared with him whatever came to her mind while he ate in silence. See, nothing out of order.

Wait a minute...

He went to meet Talia.

"It's her, isn't it?" Suddenly, everything was clear. She knew what had happened, what had changed. And she sneered at the pull Talia had on him. Suddenly, she understood but at the same time, the last year lost its meaning.

"I just wish I realized earlier that you didn't care about me as much as you said you did," turning she went to her cabinet to get her stuff, "I wouldn't have put myself through so much otherwise."

Nodding, she knew what she had to do. She had to leave. There was no reason to stay. Resolute and defeated she put everything her eyes fell on that was hers in a little bag. Clothes, lingerie, cosmetics, books. But when her eyes landed on the little box where she kept everything connected to him, her heart broke further and her anger was fueled.

In there, there was every present Bane ever gave her. Every little thing that made her think of him in some way. The letters he wrote her whenever spoken words failed him. She knew that going through its content would equal to a chronology of their relationship. If it was possible her heart broke even more. Everything she did to stay with him, everything he did to keep her now was all vain. She gave up so much for him, for a man. Her former self would be ashamed of her and knew that her heartbreak was contributing to making her feel something akin to that.

"Here," she said walking where he was standing, "take this. I don't want it anymore," and she threw it at his feet. The only acknowledgement on his part was a tilt of his head but it wasn't needed. He knew what it was and what she kept inside of it. He felt a pang in his heart but kept his face void of any emotion.

"I'll want you always," she said mocking his voice, still stuffing stuff in her bag and chuckled with mirth, "what a load of bullshit."

"Actually," stilling for a second, with a shirt cramped in her fist she faced him, "I am the biggest clown between us because I believed you." retrying her stuffing, shaking her head she added in a whisper, "I should have known better," but Bane heard.

As soon as he decided on this course of action, he had also prepared for her reaction. He knew her well and so far she hadn't done anything that he hadn't expected. And while he had been ready, he couldn't help but feel hurt by her words. He knew how she was looking at this situation, knew that his words had led her to believe it to be so. At the same time, a little part of him wished for her to oppose to his words, to see right through them and see that he was lying. That he had been honest when he had told her those things, he had opened up to her and meant everything. But knew that she was too lost to rage and hurt to think clearly. And it was also the reason why she was acting up and had thrown the box on the floor. He knew that she deeply cared about it and what it meant to her. He almost thought of offering some kind of comfort, to give her some hint about what was really going on. But knew that it would be unfair to her. After all, he was doing for the sake of her safety.

“You know,” her voice brought him back and his eyes were immediately drawn to her, “isn’t it funny how you man always pride yourselves to be strong and all that bullshit when even someone like you, who’s the epitome of masculinity and strength, at the end is totally subjected to a woman?”

They would always have this kind of conversation. Bane, being a leader of a huge army, had the tendency to be bossy. Even in situations when it wasn’t needed. It was just who he was and he felt the need to remind her of his alfa status an unnecessary lot of times. While she could enjoy this inclination of his when they were in bed, she definitely couldn’t stand it in their everyday life. And now, it made her feel stupid that she had to put with it and learn how to deal with it but when it came to Talia, he just did whatever she told him to. Also, this changed her consideration of him. What a clown. She had tried to warn him about his rather toxic relationship with Talia but he’d always get angry and dismiss the conversation either by leaving or shouting at her. She could remember their last fight about it like it was yesterday. It was also the first time that she had ever doubted her relationship with him. The first time that she had thought that maybe she had made a mistake by staying with him, by falling in love with him. Maybe she should have left as soon as she had rescued her. It wasn’t for the motive of their fight, neither her jealousy and worry about his relationship with Talia, but it had all to do with what he shouted her in rage that made her blood run cold and her heart shatter. For it was said that angry and drunk people were the more honest ones. And since that moment she couldn’t help but wonder if he really thought what he said to her or if it was just an impulse propelled by anger as he had explained.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have saved you.”

And then, as if that wasn’t enough, he decided to twist the knife further.

“I told you not to fall in love with me.”

As if one could choose who they fell for, she remembers thinking.

Those words still haunted her to this day. It happened a while ago and Bane had made it up to her, mostly. But it was in situations like this that they would come back and mock her for even forgiving him and thinking that he loved her as she loved him. To think that even a small part of him thought that it was best that he had left her to suffer in the hands of a sex abuser until he would have eventually tired of her and killed made her sick. How could anyone say something like that to another human being? One they presumedly loved? She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Bane had then explained that by that he didn’t mean leaving her with her captor but simply bring her with him and keeping her with him. Despite the fact that his explanation made sense, y/n still didn’t think it made things better.

And as for his second statement, it went mostly unmentioned.

Sure, that had been something he had told her in the beginning. It was after her training required them to spend most of their days together since he wanted to attend to it personally. Y/n knew that being in the military and with his past, it wasn’t easy for Bane to show emotions let alone let someone close enough to him to allow himself to love them. She understood that. She had a few things she was dealing with that made it difficult for her to entertain the idea of something more between them.

But that was almost a year ago. So much had happened in their life and between them that even though the words were not spoken aloud, she felt the shift in both their behaviours when it came to them. Hell, they even started dating.

Not that any of them labelled it that way. But that was beside the point.

They slept together, they ate together every meal, they lived together. If there was a band on both their left ring fingers and it was a more conventional setting, people would assume they were married.

While y/n didn’t like thinking about what they had in that way, she surely considered the commitment they had made to each other equivalent to a marriage.

She hadn’t considered Talia though.

Or at least, she had hoped that if she ever would try and come between them, Bane would stand up for her.

Turns out that she really was foolish.

“Whatever, I guess it’s not my problem anymore.” Giving him her back again, she closed the almost full bag and went to put on some shoes and coat.

“I don’t have any use for it, you should take it with you.”

“Neither have I. Burn it, see if I care.”

And with that, y/n turned around and walked out of their shared apartment at last.

It hurt to say the words, it hurt that things had ended to abruptly, it hurt that even after all this time he didn’t care about her, it hurt like hell but y/n was resolute in leaving all of this behind her. Yes, it wasn’t going to be easy and maybe it would be like leaving a hot fire trail behind her but at one point the fire would burn out, wouldn’t t?

It may take a while but she would be okay,

#bane #bane dcu #bane imagine #bane x reader #bane imagines #bane one shot #bane angst #like super angst #mention of Talia #bane x oc #tom hardy bane #TDKR #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagines

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hawksky · 3 years

Text

You wake up on your ex's fire escape; wc 2.5k

A/N: I don't really know how to categorize this ? starts as funny, gets into angst with a happy/hopeful ending. I might write this again for another character and make it 0 angst but using Megumi just let this get away from me. Thank you @sixeyesgojo for reading through my first draft, it helped me edit a lot since 😘. Although I have not looked over the ending since I wrote it, I'm done working on this fic so sorry if it falls flat.

CW: Mentions of excessive alcohol consumption.

Suggested listening: song 1 and song 2 you can pick just one to cater your experience (they are VERY different vibes) or switch over around the shampoo situation.

Objectively, there were good ways to wake up. In the arms of a beautiful person, with cold sheets and a warm body, or with the scent of your favourite breakfast wafting through the air. No disrespect to mornings at all, there were good ways to wake up, you were mature enough to recognize this.

A perplexingly rough, wet, and warm sensation gliding across your cheek, while last night’s jeans dug into your waist, and there was a pounding in your head? It was fairly safe to say this was not a good way to wake up.

It spoke volumes for how out of it you were that it was only just beginning to register in your brain that you weren’t at home, you were not even on a bed, and that the continued licks across your face were the work of animal far too large to be one of your friends cats.

“Fucking hell you’re supposed to be intimidating” you hear a voice grumble without much heat behind it.

As you forced your eyes open you are met with an excited dog tapping its paws in excitement of your presence, and the man behind the half hearted grumble. His gaze was unmistakably familiar, but his expression could not be more foreign to you.

“uhm, Hi” you croaked out while plastering a wide grin in hopes he wouldn’t murder you.

His eyebrow raised on instinct in response. You knew he was waiting for you to explain what you were doing, but the reality was you didn’t have an answer.

“I wish I could explain, but honestly I’m not sure what happened – last thing I remember was being bought another shot… Wait, where am I exactly?” You were desperately hoping you came off as charming instead of pathetic given the circumstances.

“How out of it are you?” he scrunched his face in confusion as he muttered to himself. “You’re on my fire escape, it’s in Ikebukuro? Tokyo… Japan, in case you needed the reminder”

It felt infantilizing to have him scold you like this, which only made this next part all the more difficult. You were not supposed to be Ikebukuro. You were not supposed to be in Tokyo. You were supposed to be in Yokohama. What was even more concerning is that you were definitely not supposed to be on your old fire escape, the one connected to the apartment your ex still lived in.

As you painstakingly pushed yourself upright, a warm weight laid on your upper thigh, a furry face nuzzling into your stomach – you wondered if she was aware of tension between you and her owner. You scratched behind her ears, letting Jade know she was in fact a good girl despite the earlier reprimand from her owner.

As much as you’d love to spend the day sitting on a fire escape petting your ex’s dog, you had to go home, you just need to call –

Your phone. Where was your phone? You felt around frantically for your phone, only to come up with nothing. A light sense of panic bubbles in the pit of your stomach, only to be swiftly interrupted.

“it’s already charging, I plugged it in last night, you dropped in inches away from falling down”

So, he was still watching you despite having returned inside long ago. It was difficult for you to parse this sort of gesture, how caring could it be to plug someone’s phone in when you still left them to sleep outside? Maybe he was just doing everything he could to get rid of you. It was too much to try and analyze for someone who blacked out and woke up in a different city.

“Why did you come here?” you hear him bite out from inside. It sounds harsh, but it feels like his stange way of inviting you inside.

“I don’t know what you’ve picked up from these circumstances, but not knowing is kind of a part of the problem. Believe me, there’s no amount of conscious desperation that would leaf me to sleeping on a fire escape, even yours”

You glanced around the apartment to avoid his void expression; it was spotless. But it was even harder noticing, the turned over picture frames, your favourite quilt still on the back of the couch – remnants of the past living in the present.

This tension only increased as a mug of freshly brewed green tea was placed in front of you. How thoughtful to remember you hated coffee, to realize your throat was probably killing you – you would have tasted a creeping bitterness from all these emotions, if it wasn’t overpowered by what was the distinct taste of your favourite brand that had to be special ordered.

He had always complained, there were plenty of good options for tea at the grocery store, why wasn’t that enough for you? It was so much extra effort to special order from a tea shop across town, the only place that you were able to charm the owner into ordering for you.

“How are you still so fucking awful at taking care of yourself?” he spat the words out like an insult, it was jarring honestly. Despite the time away from each other, it was no less strange to feel his detachment.

He moved towards the door beckoning Jade to follow. “There’s a towel and change of clothes in the bathroom, you should probably take a shower. If I’m not back by the time you leave, just lock up before you go, I haven’t moved the spare key.” Without looking back or waiting for a response he left.

You were starting to recognize your growing frustration – you had known him how long? Dated and lived together for a not-insignificant amount of time? Yet here you were, no idea how to interpret this strange morning, much less his last comment. Did he want you to be here when he returned? Were you supposed to leave and act like you had never been there? Could he genuinely be as indifferent as he wanted you to believe? It pissed you that your feelings were probably plain on your face.

You searched for your phone, finding it on what used to be your side of the couch. It felt ridiculous to think you ever had a side of the couch, but you were both creatures of habit and slowly without even thinking you both made your own little sanctuary mere metres away from each other.

You awoke your phone, expecting a flood of texts and phone calls from your friends, only to find nothing. Not a single check in from anyone. You open the group chat and furiously tap out a message.

Your phone vibrates rapidly as you place it down but you’re not in the mood to field their questions.

You’re tempted to leave now, just to get it over with, go home and crawl into bed and forget any of this ever happened. But, you felt gross, it was late enough in the morning that you could run into someone you knew, and you missed the water pressure here.

As you got ready for your shower you surveyed your options. You refused to smell like him, but the only other bottle in the shower was doggy shampoo. Surely dog’s fur and human hair weren’t so different right? Jade did have a beautiful coat, very soft and shiny… You reprimanded yourself for the ridiculous idea, but the point remained, there had to be something else for you to use.

Your brain, far more alert than it was 30 minutes ago, thought of all the things he hadn’t changed, all the fixtures still in place. You had always kept an extra set of all your supplies under the sink. By the grace of all that is good on this cruel cruel earth, they were there, in all their dusty glory, your prized hygiene products sat unmoved under the sink. It would have been sick and twisted to have to leave your ex-boyfriend’s apartment smelling exactly like him, left to spend the rest of the day agonizing over whether you should take another shower.

As you entered the shower you wondered more. He had to have noticed the softness in your eyes, the faint smile you wore just having an ounce of his attention again, the way ti widened at every caring gesture, and falling with every biting remark.

Yes, it hurt every day missing him. Yes, it would hurt if he hated you. But none of that compared to the feeling of not knowing. What were you supposed to do with all these residual feelings that have yet to go away? Were they worth the suffocation or should you strip them away?

You were proud of yourself, all these reminders of what you once had, in a place you once loved, and you had yet to break down, not even shedding a tear. If you weren’t wrapping yourself in a towel, you would’ve given yourself a pat on the back. This victory was short lived, everyone’s strength has its limits and you had taken yours too far past it already. But then you saw it, something you were completely unprepared for.

Laid neatly on top the closed laundry basket was THE outfit. It was nothing special to anyone else, just a grey sweater and loose joggers, but how many days had you spent alone breathing in his scent for comfort while he was gone? How many hard days at work had you reaching for these exact pieces as if they were the cure to all your problems?

Unable to support your own weight anymore, you fell to the tiled floor, tears spilling out, as your already sore throat grew even more hoarse – you felt like everything was collapsing around you. You weren’t expecting to see him, and you certainly weren’t expecting to need him in so many little ways. It was easy to forget how easily he weaves himself into your life, encroaching on everything you do.

The world disappeared behind each shallow breath, and an endless stream of tears you couldn’t control. Your fingers scratch against your forearms repeatedly, trying to ground yourself in some reality you could no longer grasp. It is so exhausting trying to be over him, going through these cycles of strong emotions, over and over and over again.

Suddenly, for the second time in as few hours, you felt an overwhelming weight encompass your body.

Of course, his stupid fucking perfect dog would still know how to bring you out of a panic attack like he had spent so much time training when you started dating. You clutched to Jade as your breathing slowed, but it did nothing to stop your sobs, if anything it was just another painful reminder of everything you let go.

“Uhhh….” Megumi was frozen at the door, for the first time today he didn’t know what to do. His indifferent façade dropped as he observed the scene on his bathroom floor.

There’s nothing left to lose, not for a moment that he has seen this morning have you possessed more than an ounce of dignity, “So that’s it? You don’t know what to do either? You know it’s been a whole fucking year and I still haven’t figured out how to live without you. A whole year and I’m still a mess. I can’t survive being reminded of us, look at me. And yet every attempt to get over you was a knife twisting because they’ll never be you. Now I’m here and I get to witness the wonderful Megumi Fushiguro, unaffected, and you… you have it all together.” You trail off, giving to him everything left in you.

You weren’t expecting the confused and indignant expression on his face, “You think this is having it together?” His voice lightly raising with each word “This place might as well be a sealed shrine to you and our relationship. I haven’t thrown a single thing out, moved any furniture, bought anything new – the only thing that’s ‘new’ is your stupid tea I keep buying even though I hate it, and for fucks sake y/n I should’ve moved out. Every part of me that looks like I have it together is just my version of a mess.” He brushes a stray strand out of your face, his own face moving far too close for this to be purely platonic anymore “y/n I’m no better off than you are, I��ve just kept everyone from looking”.

“So what are we supposed to do with all this?” Your eyes shining, naïve hope seeping through your defenses at the confirmation that he couldn’t live without you either.

“We could try again” Somehow, it wasn’t quite what you needed to hear. “I, am going to get dressed, and then we’ll talk, I’ll meet you in the kitchen.” He nodded lightly, pulling himself up and exiting with Jade on his heels.

Dressed in the clothes you thought would burn your skin to even touch let alone wear, you let out a long sigh as you sit on at the breakfast nook. “Look, Megumi, I need to know if you’ve worked through it, any of it? I can’t, I can’t wait another three years for you to tell me you can’t say the words I love you, that you can’t commit to more than a yearly rental, I can’t just have you here I need more security than that”

He pursed his lips, unsure of what he could say to that, how he could make sure you didn’t leave again.

“Megumi, I don’t need you to say it to me today, I don’t need you to commit to anything today, but I have to know you’ve tried that I can’t keep waiting for you”

“I… Just give me a minute, please” his voice weak pleading with you. You waited, knowing better than to rush him, laying a hand on top of his assuring him you weren’t going to run out the door.

“y/n, I’m supposed to be honest and vulnerable, I’m supposed to tell myself that people won’t abandon me just because I give them access to who I really am. I want to tell you I love you, because there’s no other explanation for feeling this way. For feeling like your eyes outshine the stars, that your mind is more brilliant than the sun. I’ve tortured myself for a year with the idea of you meeting someone who could give you everything I couldn’t, and selfishly I prayed they were awful, I wished you were miserable so I pretend the truth wasn’t real that I was not enough for you, that I couldn’t give you what you needed. I’ve never seen a loving relationship, certainly not for long enough to form memories, but I look at you and I can’t imagine anything else”

Your thumb reaches to brush away the stray tear sliding down his face as he spoke to you. Manoeuvring yourself around to be on the same side of the nook as him, you pull him into you, letting him bury his head into the crook of your neck. You placed a gentle kiss into his hair before whispered into his ear “You were always enough, I just needed you to know it too.”

not not a tag list: @satosuguslut @sandyscastle

#megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen angst #megumi fushiguro angst #megumi fushiguro fic #jujutsu kaisen fics #im so bad at tagging yall i never know what works or what people use sos #megumi fushiguro x y/n #i give up ok bye

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papergirllife · 4 years

Text

" Without you I feel dizzy and sad, I feel low. " + Lucas

" Stop drinking, Y/N. I bought you along to meet new men, not get your sorry ass drunk over your ex. "

" Shut up, Yeri. It's only been three days. "

" It has happened for like what? Over a hundred times. You should seriously move on to someone better, this on and off thing won't work out in the long run. "

" But I don't feel the same way towards anyone else. "

You said as you took another shot from the table, the alcohol making your throat burn.

Yeri was going to give you another lecture from the look of her eyes, but she was interrupted by a handsome man asking for a dance.

" Go. I'll be fine. Let me sort out my thoughts for a while. "

" Stay put okay? I'll be back. "

You were going to down another shot when you realised that you ran out. You walked towards the bar stumbling into people, as you could feel the alcohol fogging up your mind.

As you walked towards the bar, you bumped into someone.

" Sorry. "

" Y/N ? "

" Lucas? "

" Y/N. You're drunk. I'll take you home. "

" No! I don't ever want to see you again. "

You pushed him away and continued your journey to the bar.

You ordered six more shots and downed them on the spot, not bothering to carry them back to your table as you're drinking alone.

Unbeknownst to you, Lucas was standing not far away from you, his heart clenched in his chest as he sees the pain he has inflicted upon you, regretting the fight the both of you broke out the other day.

You sat on the bar stool, dejected at the fact that you can't get him out of your head, nor your sight.

You tried to move on, you really did. But the memories and hardships you and Lucas had shared was an arrow in your heart.

You tried dating other guys, but called it quits when all you felt from the relationships were unsatisfaction and a sense of emptiness.

Your tears started to fall as you could feel the pain seeping into your heart, it was like poison, slowly killing you.

You ordered a glass of whisky to numb the pain, glass after glass, you could feel yourself losing grasp of reality.

Before you blacked out, you could feel a pair of strong arms lifting you up, and a pair of worried eyes staring at you.

You were still tipsy when you regained consciousness. You could feel a pair of strong arms carrying you around, there's only one person with a decent amount strength that could do that.

" Lucas? "

" Y/N? You're awake? Hold on for a while, you changed your key code to your door so I took you to my place. "

You felt Lucas set you down on a bed. You opened your eyes to see your boyfriend, correction, ex, standing in front of you.

You bolted up in a sitting position on the bed, your drunken state forgetting of your lack of balance under the influence of alcohol.

You grabbed onto his hands and looked into his eyes.

" Why did you help me? We broke up. Why are you here for me when you left?! Why?! Do you know how shit my past few days were?! Do you have any idea what you keep putting me through?! I don't even know why I keep going back to you! Why did I fall for you?! Of all people?! I'm so tired of making the same mistakes over and over again! All for you! "

At this point your whole face was stained with tears, the ache in your heart was unbearable, you don't even understand how it hurts physically, but it just does.

Lucas had sat down next to you on the bed when you stopped speaking.

" I'm sorry. I know now, that it was extremely immature of me. I shouldn't have fought with you over the little things. I shouldn't have said you were nagging me when you were just being caring. I'm sorry, I'm sorry I caused you so much pain for all the times we fought. This is the first time I've seen you during one of our breaks, the way you were drinking to forget your heartache made me realise what a dick I am. I'm sorry. I love you, Y/N, I truly do. I don't deserve you and I'll respect your decision if you choose to end our relationship permanently. "

Lucas's last sentence ended in a whisper, it was one of the most painful things he had ever said in your relationship.

There was never once that he suggested to end things permanently with you, but seeing you in this immense amount of pain knew that this time is different from all the other times. It was like the drop of water that broke the dam, it'll take a long time to patch things up this time around.

But Lucas decided that if you let him, one last time, he would give everything up for it.

Looking back he knew it was dumb that the both of you fought, he was so stupid for staying out late with the boys for drinks, he knew it made you worried of him, but he still did it.

He would've kicked himself if he could go back in time. The events from the night you fought came back to him.

It was around 4am and he had came home, absolutely wasted and pissed off at something, waking you up and he said some mean things that made you leave. It was utterly dumb of him.

He looked at you, snapping out of his thoughts. He could see how tired you were, and skinny. He could tell you haven't ate much these past few days.

Your chest was heaving up and down as you tried your best to recollect your thoughts and swallow down your tears to speak properly.

" How could I leave you? Without you I feel dizzy and sad, I feel low. There's no way I'm going to survive without you. And to be honest, I don't know if that's a good thing or bad thing. "

Lucas pulled you close gently, trying to show you with actions that he is going to stay from here on.

When you made the effort to hug him back, your body let out another round of sobs.

" Don't leave me anymore. Please, my heart can't handle this sort of pain anymore, I feel like I'm dying from a heartache. "

" I'm sorry, love. I'll make it up to you, I promise. "

" Are you sober enough to stand up? "

You nodded.

Lucas stood up and took your hand into his, taking some clean clothes from his closet and leading you to the bathroom.

" Take a shower. "

After your shower, you tried your best to blow dry your hair in your semi intoxicated state but stopped and padded out to the living area when your head got too dizzy.

Lucas had already changed into his sleep clothes and was lying on the sofa, when he saw you he smiled, he always thought you looked best in his clothes.

" Take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch. "

You walked towards him and laid down on his welcoming chest.

" I'm not sleeping alone anymore. It feels lonely. Sleep with me. "

" Are you sure? "

" Yes. "

" You're going to regret this in the morning, but I'm too tired to argue with your drunk ass. "

Lucas once again carried you to the bed and laid you down, he slips into bed next to you, holding you close, as you fall into a peaceful sleep you haven't had in days.

When you woke up, you thought you were dreaming. But the feeling of Lucas's arms wrapped around you felt too real.

You closed your eyes and recountered what happened the night before.

' Fuck, I was supposed to be broken up with him. ' You thought to yourself.

You didn't know how to take in the situation you were in. You were promised yourself to stay away from him, but here you are again, back in his bed. But on the other hand, Lucas made a promise, to never hurt you that way ever again.

How are you going to make a choice?

When you felt movement next to you, you quickly shut your eyes.

You could feel Lucas's arms wrap around your torso tighter, as if he didn't want to let you go.

You could feel his neck nuzzling into your hair, as he inhales the sweet scent of your hair.

" Why do you like to smell my hair in the morning? "

" Because you smell like a combination of you and me, reminds me what a lucky man I am. "

You shudder at that thought. It made you realise how much you love this man, and that even though the both of you don't see eye to eye sometimes, there were also many happy moments.

Lucas must've felt your shudder, because he pulled the blankets higher, thinking you might've been cold.

' He cares for me like no one else. '

To your dismay, Lucas got up and wrapped the blankets around your body.

You could hear him opening and closing kitchen cabinets.

" Where the fuck did I put the Advils? "

You let out a tiny laugh, but quickly biting onto your tongue when you heard his footsteps nearing.

He set down a glass of water, as he takes a seat beside you on the bed.

" Y/N, wake up. You need to eat something, all that drinking from last night without any food intake is bad for your stomach. "

You opened your eyes to see Lucas smiling down at you as he holds the Advil and the glass of water for you.

After you swallowed the pill, Lucas looks at you nervously.

" Do you remember anything from last night? "

" Yeah, I remember the things we said here. Not much from the club. "

" I meant it, every word from last night. "

" No more fighting? "

" No more. " He said as he holds you close.

You nuzzle your face into Lucas's neck, loving the warmth it provides, something you always did whenever you woke up in his arms.

You start peppering kisses on his neck, slowly moving downwards.

Your hands itched to take off his shirt when he stops you.

" I want it to be about you baby, lay down. Let me make it up to you. "

Lucas trailed kisses all over you as he laid you down, removing the clothes he had given you from the night before.

He places a kiss on your covered womanhood, sending shivers up your spine.His fingers reach out to cup your vagina.

" You're already so wet for me, love. "

He hooks his thumbs beneath the waistband of your panties and pulls down.

The sight and the scent of your sex ignites a fire in him.

" I missed you, baby. " He says before he dives into your vagina.

He gives your pussy a fat lick as his fingers rubbed circles onto your clit.

" Fuck, Lucas... "

His fingers stop its ministrations as Lucas switched it to his lips, sucking and lightly biting on your abused clit, sending shocks straight to your already dripping core.

By now his sheets are ruined with your juices, you look up to see the sight of Lucas eating you out made you even wetter.

Lucas slipped in two fingers into your core as he sensed you getting closer to your high.

You thread your fingers into his smooth locks of hair, giving him encouragement.

He stops sucking at your clit and used his other hand to lightly flick and pinch your clit, he always knew you loved it this rough with him.

He scissors you open with his two fingers and fucked his tongue into you, the way his fingers move out as his tongue moves right back in made the coil on your stomach tighten.

" Fuck, Lucas. I'm going to cum. "

If he heard you he didn't say anything, but speeds up his actions, his patience running thin for a taste of your essence, you cum all over his face. But this time felt different, this orgasm felt stronger.

You sat yourself up to see that Lucas's whole face was wet.

" I am so going to make you squirt again."

Let's just say you guys aren't getting out of bed anytime soon, with hundreds of missed calls and texts from Yeri.

To request, follow the link below ❣️

https://papergirllife.tumblr.com/post/615715974898974720/300-followers-milestone-prompts-hi-guys-i-just

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st4rs1lver · 4 years

Text

my fault, not yours. || bakugou katsuki

pairing : bakugou katsuki x f!werewolf!eventual villain!reader

genre : angst

words : about 1.3k.

tw : i tried to refrain from bad language as much as possible because i had to type this up on a school computer, so it might be slightly ooc. also hints of a dark past, suicide, supernatural being(s)?

please don't read if you're uncomfortable with anything listed above. other than that, i hope uou enjoy :)

their story began like this.

bakugou katsuki is one of, if not the most, noticeable students of ua's class 1-a. known for his explosive quirk and personality to match, it is no surprise that he has thrown some harsh words around that has hurt his peers.

(l/n) (y/n) was one of them.

as harsh as it may sound, she's considered fairly average for being in the top class of first years. (h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes, and a fit physique as is required of hero school students. her quirk, sound manipuation... a little overpowered in use. this was one of the reasons why bakugou picked on her. how heavily she relies on her quirk, how she tires easily during sparring. heck, even her chest size - everything was under the boy's scrutiny.

he's smart, sure. but there's a lot of things he didn't know.

he didn't know how she used over half of her energy, trying to contain her immense power to avoid injuring eveyrone around her. he didn't know what she was, who she was and he picked on her nonetheless. he didn't know what happened to her in the past, what her parents did to her. but above all, he didn't know that she loved him.

if he had, then perhaps all of this would have been prevented.

i'm so sorry.

a car swung through the air, nearly crashing into deku. seeing this, shouto quickly froze the vehicle seconds before it found its target. the green-haired pro-hero thanked his heterochromatic counterpart, the latter responding with a nod.

"we need to get this sorted out. siren is getting stronger by the minute, we have no time to lose."

"exactly, you idiots! get the pedestrians! i'm going after her!

"wait, but how do you know that siren's a female--"

before deku could finish his question, the male was already off with a bang - literally.

soaring overhead, ground zero could see above the cloud of smoke, making out the telltale rings of destruction and familar red waves radiating from a crater in the concrete below.

red, huh?

ceasing his explosions once he got close enough, bakugou sailed in through the gray clouds of debris and landed right behind the female figure in the center. he stood up, dusted his hands off, and stood still. everything was silent around them.

through the shadows, bakugou could see the furry ears on top of the female's head twitch. without turning around, she muttered a single word. no, name.

"katsuki."

with this one sound, the deceptive peace shattered around them, and immediately the two clashed in an explosion of red.

they were evenly matched; each blow would be countered with another from the opposing party. so the fight continued, as the world around them fell away, each person caught in their own chaos, fighting their own battle. the dark night skies glittered with bloodlust, flavored with smog, seasoned with uplifted earth. it was a dangerous kind of beauty. nostalgia.

regret.

she could remember those days, when she would be quietly pining after hiom, admiring his strength, ambition, looks. the days when, even if he were cruel to her, she would still remain by his side and love him through his scars. she remembered that day, when she had been planning to leave ua, but got caught by bakugou. terrified of the possibility of having her plans be revealed to the population of the school, she had shut him up with a kiss, and fled.

he remembered those days when he would not notice her except to shove her out of the way, intent on reaching his goal. but now that he did, he felt empty. as if something was missing. he had thrown away the one that thing he had been wanting all along. she had become so scarred that she could not love him anymore.

oh, how the tables have turned.

with another nitroglycerin explosion, bakugou managed to blast the villain onto the rooftop of the tallest building in the city. once he had also made his way onto the skycraper, he sized her up, feeling her do so to him as well. both were covered in cuts and bruises, clothes matted with blood and grime. neither budged from their spot, neither in a defensive stance. they were simply standing still, relaxed as if trusting that the other would not harm them. the irony was enough to make one laugh, if only this weren't such an unbefitting situation.

"katsuki."

"don't call me that."

he immediately snapped back, just like the old days.

like the old days.

siren chuckled. the hero could hear the melancholy fatigue in her voice. her laugh, once bright and happy, now dulled to a blank slate. and yet, her voice remained as beautiful as ever.

“bakugou.”

he kept his silence. taking this as a sign to continue, the girl sighed and took off her mask.

"it's been a while."

"so it has."

(l/n) smiled - it was a small, genuine smile, but it was weary.

"i'll get to the point, i suppose. i know that you know that i loved you."

this sentence took his breath away.

i didn't then... but i do now.

"i know you probably hate me."

shut up. i don't.

"so... i wanted to apologize."

"idiot, what are you apologizing for?!"

her smile dropped. "for loving you. for caring when you didn't want me to. for what i'm about to do - what i've wanted to do for years now, frankly. you told midoriya to take a swan dive off the roof... and while i'm not midoriya, i think you want me to fulfill that request just as badly--"

"i don't hate you! i never did, and i still don't."

the smile was back. "i'm glad."

"so don't do this!"

she shook her head. "katsuki..." she took a deep breath. "katsuki... i love you. and i know that it took a long time for you to come around and all but... trust me, if i could, i would come back. i would pretend like nothing happened and be myself again. i would come back... to be with you. but... things have changed. and maybe-- maybe if society were willing, i could prove how much i want that - to be normal - but it's not possible now, is it? once a villain, always a villain. the same couldn't be said for a wannabe hero, especially after all i've done. all that's happened to me and made me... do things i regret. i've done to much. i never really wanted this... i regret it all."

he swallowed, and seeing that he was going to interrupt, she shook her head and silenced him again.

"i don't want you to regret anything like i do. i know that you're going to say that my parents did this and i'm not at fault, but in all reality, i was the one who chose to solve my problems in this terrible way and i couldn't find someone to give me the help that i needed. above all, please never blame yourself for this. you wanted to be a hero, not to have a relationship with some girl with issues. and i respect that. there are much better people out there that are stronger than me, more beautiful and aren't burdened by things that could easily make them go insane and lash out... like me. because i don't want you to be in danger because of me. hurting you genuinely is the last thing i would ever wish to do. love someone that isn't a monster, like me. please. love someone... that isn't me."

"but i only want you! you can make it right again! it'll be okay! if you let them know, if you told them what happened... if you believed in yourself like i believe in you..." he sobbed.

"please, katsuki. if not for yourself... than for me."

the werewolf female watched as he crumbled, her heart aching with his. he could form no coherent words as he cried into his calloused palms.

the great ground zero, at the peak of his career with a right future, was slowly breaking down for a lowly, hybrid, villain.

"hey, katsuki." her calm voice was quiet, commanding almost. he felt compelled to look. sniffing, he raised his head.

with some difficulty, (y/n) mustered her brightest, happiest smile, reminding him of when she was still an innocent classmate of his. then, he remembered the day that she ran away, eventually proclaimed allegedly dead. that day, she had given him this same smile. he had to keep this secret for years, the knowledge of her departure tormenting him, knowing it was partially his fault that he didn't prevent her from leaving. and today, she gave him this beautiful, terrible smile once more.

he clambered to his feet, horror painting his face and his heart.

"i'm sorry."

"no, no, no, no--"

he was too late, she was already gone.

bakugou katsuki, one of if not the most, powerful of heroes. he's known for his easily distinguishable quirk, with a personality and looks to match.

(l/n) (y/n), a misfortunate soul, losing her life to the light of her life.

their story ended like this.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #angst #x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha x reader #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #please don't come for me guys :((#reader insert #x reader oneshot #x reader fanfiction

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junipersgarden · 5 years

Text

metanoia 0. | Prologue

PAIRING: Peter Parker x Superhero!Reader

SUMMARY: After Tony Stark’s sacrifice to save the world, Y/N and Peter make a promise to one another.

WORD COUNT: 1754 words

WARNINGS: Angst, crying/ sadness and a funeral

[NOT MY GIF]

...

After the Battle of Earth - October 2023

...

Silence.

Even with every single hero that fought in the battle against the Mad Titan all in one place, complete and utter silence embodied them all as they stood in remorse and sorrow, mourning for their fallen avenger.

Tony Stark.

That name had many names, is known by many and will single handily be named as one of the world's greatest defenders; the man who sacrificed his life so that his loved ones and that the Earth could go back to the way things were, the ways things were meant to be even though he wasn't going to be there.

The Avengers had won this battle this time but at what cost?

You still couldn't get the image out of your head; a tarnished battlefield, Thanos's army disappearing one by one, the genocidal warlord turning to dust and Tony.

"And I... am.... Iron Man." Tony breathlessly let out and letting all of his strength go into snapping his fingers, the one desire and wish on his mind, hoping the stones will go by his will. Just once.

You wanted to cry to him, scream or just anything but even if you did, Tony knew the sacrifice had to be made, for you and for the ones around him.

You took small, staggered steps towards Tony, reaching and praying the universe would show him mercy, that everything could be okay and normal.

Through misty and weak eyes, you spotted him kneeling on the cracked ground, determination in his eyes, staring straight into the eyes of the enemy.

But as close and and as far away you were from him, the familiar snap of fingers rang through your ears.

"Tony-" You croaked out, fear burying itself inside of your subconscious, mind building unwanted thoughts and concerns of the worst, you tried walking toward him, still weak from the fight but a bright, piercing white light blinded your vision right before you could make it to him.

A hand on your shoulder startled you and you were brought back into the reality you wished wasn't real.

Turning around, your eyes met with none other than Peter Parker's soft, puffy chocolate brown one's. His eyes weren't full of innocence and happiness as you were used to seeing them

Peter gave a sad but yet comforting smile to you, afraid if he were to say something he would just choke up so he didn't.

His miserable smile somehow comforted you; he always has been able to make you feel secure and safe even in times where it seemed like nothing could overcome whatever you were going through.

But despite it all, Peter was your life-line, the one thing keeping you sane from all this madness.

Without him saying anything, you knew what he was asking you; the pained and concerned expression over his face.

You couldn't answer him though. All you could do was emit stingful tears and cross your arms around you, clinging onto yourself so tightly.

As Peter inched closer to your side, you looked up and saw how much agony he was in and your heart shattered even more just by knowing how close Peter truly was to Tony.

Hesitantly, you started leaning into Peter because his face and body was screaming 'Y/N I need you.' so you took the opportunity and laid yourself into his right side, a sense of relief and a ripple of reassurance rushing throughout your body as he allowed you to fall into his.

Peter jolted slightly when he felt you but he responded as quickly as you acted, automatically snaking his arm around your waist, hugging you firmly to assure you that you're not alone and that he is there for you when you need him.

You could easily tell that he was thinking from the way his eyes stared so intensely at the ground; he's been in this position so many times from his parents to Uncle Ben and knowing Peter, you knew he was blaming himself, wishing he could of done more to prevent this but both of you knew there was nothing anyone could do to stop Tony.

The light startled you so much that you stopped straight in your tracks and your arms enveloped over your eyes to protect them from it but as soon as it appeared, it vanished.

Standing tall and in your masked suit, you noticed a piece of dust landed on your arm, the dust like substance you were so familiar with when yourself faded away from Thanos's actions.

Observing the area you saw that one by one, the numbers from Thanos's army decreased as his troops began to disappear from existence.

Everyone looked around at the enemy disintegrating away into nothing, looks of triumph and reassurance that shone on each Avenger's face; after 5 years, they had won the battle.

But with this victory, all you could do was worry about Tony; he stood frailly before loosing all his strength and leaned against rubble, sinking down in defeat.

This isn't happening, this isn't happening, it's going to be okay.

With all your intrusive thoughts swarming and attacking you, growing bigger and bigger by the second, you spot War Machine followed by Spider-Man aid his side.

"Mr. Stark?" such a weak voice calls.

Now that voice you know too well. That's the same voice you've heard explain to you the homework due, the same voice that argued with you for hours about Star Wars, the same voice that reminds you of the better days.

"It's Peter."

Oh god...

Peter Parker; you always knew he was meant for something greater in this world but you never would of expected him to be Spider-Man. It never occurred that sweet, innocent Peter had experienced all the perks of being a superhero or that he knows what war truly is like and the consequences that come out of it.

Yet here Peter was, kneeling in front of his idol, whispering words of support and sympathy.

Before thinking your instincts kicked in and your foot rose from the ground, you were sprinting toward your best friend. Feet harshly stomping on the Earth's ruined terrain, breathing heavy from the burning in your throat from the despair inside of you.

You ran across the planet in a matter of what seemed like a life time and finally came to a halt when you saw Tony; his skin like charcoal, pale and lifeless eyes stare straight into your soul causing you to loose balance and fall on your knees.

Peter jumped from the noise of machinery scrapping the ground and turned to you. His face is bloody and bruised and has no glow like it always did before; Peter feels numb and nothing just like you are.

You looked into Peter's scared eyes and swiftly pulled him away from Tony and into a crushing hug as he cried into you.

He can't see me. With a mask over your face, he doesn't know who and what you are; no one does, not even Tony.

Give me a sign he is okay please.

But no sign is given; Pepper is now by his side and for a second, a brightness sparks in Tony's eyes when he sees her but dims just as quickly.

The look in Pepper's eyes and the nod of approval gives it all away and with the revelation that this is fact is real and better yet happening right in front of you, with nothing you could do to stop it.

Peter, you and everyone looked at Tony, filled with remorse, knowing that it was the last time they would see him friend but yet, he was a blur from all the tears that surrounded their eyes.

"We're going to be okay." Pepper assured him.

No we're not-

"You can rest now." Her voice trembled slightly as a subtle smile swept across her face, planting a final kiss on Tony's cheek.

Tony didn't say anything after that; he gently grabbed Pepper's hand and guided it to his heart and kept it there, arc reactor so small, so broken and so quickly departing.

Everyone around him stood to a standstill; the planet stopped orbiting, their hearts stopped beating but yet, their sorrows and tears began.

Say something Y/N.... say anything to him this is it.

But no courage or strength could even make you stutter a final goodbye and closure to him; he was already gone.

"He loved you, you know that... right?" Peter broke the silence.

You once again came back into reality and saw that now Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, Steve and Morgan had placed themselves on the dock and all were standing together in remembrance.

"He loved you too Pete... and was as equally proud of you as well."

Peter gripped you tighter after your statement and you felt a teardrop soak your black dress.

He's been through so much already; who knows when he'll break. Jesus Christ Peter needs a break...

"Y/N?"

"...Yes Peter?"

"I-I know you weren't there when he- passed but just p-promise me that you'll stay by me... please? I just need you and you're the only one remotely close to my a-age who was close to To-"

"Peter." You huff out and interrupt his rambling, "You're my best friend, I'm here for you and I hope- no I know that you and I are going to be okay as long as we stick together."

"Just Y/N p-please promise me-"

"I promise you Peter. I'm not going anywhere."

Peter loosely released his hold on you and as you look up, you see his smile; oh boy that smile you've longed to see for a long time but you notice he is pointing his pinkie at you.

"Pinky promise Y/N?"

You can't help but actually and genuinely giggle at him by his child like antics but it all disappears when you notice again his puffy, bloodshot eyes full of worry and regret.

"I promise." Peter interlocks his pinkie with yours and for the first time in a long time, you both smile.

Hopefully Ned and MJ can help me with Pete... May and even Happy too; he needs support; he can't be left alone.

Peter Parker is Spider-Man... what is everyone going to do to him after Tony's gone... will they look to him?

And what about me and being Saviour? No one knows not even Peter.

I can't let Peter know I'm Saviour; it'll ruin him...

I won't let him find out.

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dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram · 4 years

Note

I'm very excited to read your thoughts on Louis' music video performances!

Thanks anon - it’s been a bit of a roller coaster ride of emotions watching all of Louis’ videos. He was so full of joy, energy and connection in early 1D videos. Then in 2012, when avoiding being read as gay became the imperative, you see him withdrawing and also trying with new performance techniques that just don’t work (the pointing!). He has this way of Performing with a capital ‘P’ that is unreal and distracting. He can’t be hammy without completely disconecting. What’s interesting to me is that he begins to find his way back and gets stronger as a solo music video performer. But there are still aspects of his earliest music video performances that he’s never recaptured. At this point he’s very good at bittersweet or understated joy in his solo music video performances, but the pure joy of the early 1D music videos - he hasn’t really found a way to do.

Two of Us: This is a spectacular performance - there’s no hiding - the entire video rests on it. Louis is incredibly open and vulnerable. But he also brings real light and shade to the video. There’s moments of joy, when he remembers his Mum (1.08) as well as pain.

One Thing: There’s nothing complicated about this performance - it’s just joy, energy, interaction with others, and easy naturalistic movement. But I love it. I particularly love the way Louis adjusts the mic for Niall and then kind of looks over him (and the way Zayn rests his chin on his shoulder) - you get so much a sense of who they are as people and their relationships with this performance. I’m on record for how much I love this music video. And I think part of my reaction is that Louis is so free and easy in it.

Don’t Let it Break Your Heart: What’s really great about this performance is that Louis brings both joy and vulnerability (and my tastes in music video performances are predictable - if I’ve got both of them I’m happy). He’s best when he’s doing something, playing football or in the pub (and he’s good at the most acting-y bits of a heist as well). But right the way through he brings out the emotion of the song. It is this song of having surviving a lot and still being there and really caring about someone - and he captures all of that.

What Makes You Beautiful: They were all such tiny babies on a beach. Louis doesn’t have the shine through the camera thing that Zayn and Harry had from the beginning. You can tell he’s a little bit less used to the camera and it makes a difference. But this has the same free ease, joy, and interaction with each other of One Thing. And Louis in particular, is very focused on the other members of the band, which makes his perofrmance more grounded.

You and I: Two years after One Thing, we have another great music video performance from Louis. He has no problem being vulnerable to camera, and connects in totally naturalistic way. In 2012 and 2013, the differece between Louis in music videos ballads, and other music videos is really noticeable. And I think that shows how difficult it was for him to find a new register to operate in. (Also this is the last time that 1D interacted as a group in a music video. After this they would always be shot singing in a line or a circle, but barely acknowledging that others existed. That didn’t improve Louis’ music video performances. Or anyone else’s).

Miss You: I think Louis’ performance is the strongest part of this video. At the very beginning there’s so much emotion in the regret in the half light. He manages to capture both real joy, and slightly hollow enjoyment in the party scenes (here some of the capital P ‘performance’ aspects that I will criticise further down are used well - as he’s not supposed to be fully enjoying it).

Story of My Life: Louis isn’t in this video much (at times it almost seems that they’re editing around him - particularly at 1.25), but his performance is still really strong. Most of the performances in the concrete bunker have a ‘I’m feeling something important’. But when Louis’ solo he gives it an undercurrent of joy, which works really well with the song. He really gives an emotional range in his performance, both with his grandparents and in the bunker. Watching was a real reminder that Louis’ always had strengths as a music video performer.

Walls: Right at the end Louis sings the line ‘Nothing wakes you up like waking up alone’ in three different scenes - in the fire scene he’s completely vulnerable, but when performing he captures the bittersweetness. There’s a lot in this performance (and of course I’ve bumped it up a few spaces just for the joy in the mask scene), and I think it shows so much of Louis’ strengths as a music video performer - particularly vulnerability and bringing joy to a song. I’m not that into the blankness in the formal wear scenes (although it’s probably intentional I don’t think it adds), but bringing a performance at the end also ups the energy in a way that really works.

Little Things: My bias towards joy in music videos is well documented. Almost every shot that you see Louis in htis video - there’s some element of joy. A lot of that comes from the interaction - he’s laughing with someone else in the video. When he’s singing - he’s OK - again the moments of joy really bring it up (love is joyful) - but it’s not as good as he would be in the future. He was still learning to connect to camera on the slower songs.

Perfect: Louis is pretty joyful for most of Perfect, joyful and naturalistic, which sends it soaring up my rankings. I think it helps that he’s interacting with Liam, but even when he’s alone there’s an easy playfulness. And then they come to perform of the roof and he just loses all of that and he’s back with a ‘Performance’. Twenty seconds from the end and you get a particularly bad example of it and it’s particularly interesting compared to the rest of the video, because it gives you a sense of what specific situations he can’t or doesn’t let himself relax/connect/be vulnerable. Because he’s good in this video, both interacting with people and not interacting with people, in these reasonably naturalistic settings. And it’s only in the admittedly quite bizzarre scenario of five people singing at a roof (without even the structure of an imaginary performance) that he enters into this false hammy register.

Back to You: This isn’t a great performance, but I think it shows how far charm and comfort can get you. It’s so interesting to me that after all these 1D music videos which didn’t bring out his strengths he was like ‘I’ll go to Doncaster and eat in a cafe with my family’. And the video still has a lot of the performance techniques that really brought down Louis’ performances in later 1D videos (the pointing! Acting out lyrics! jumping into a capital P performance mode). But he’s relaxed enough in the video that his charm comes through.

Kill My Mind: It’s hard to assess this performance, because Charlie Lightening is determined to do everything he can to ensure the audience doesn’t sit with Louis’ performance for two seconds together. I think Louis generally does well in music videos when he’s supposed to be making music, with a band and a microphone. And in general this works. There’s also some sweet moments where he connects with the audience. But the shooting style is so uninterested in connection - it does get in hte way.

Steal My Girl: Is Louis trying to look dangerous when Danny De Vito gives him a label? Or is he trying to look confused that anyone called him Dangerous. Because it definitely looks like the second. Given that most of what Louis does in this video is bond with a chimpanzee it’s hard not to be charmed, but I’m not sure that’s a result of the perofrmance.

We Made It: He’s OK in this, not a lot is asked of him. He connects reasonably well in a performance that is meant to be in the background and there are moments of vulnerability. But he could have elevated this performance so much with more range. In general, Louis has often been pretty good at bringing joy to a video - and this is a performance and a song that is crying out for more joy.

Gotta Be You: Why were they so sad in this video? That’s one of the things that makes it fudamentally unappealing (besides the song - and the way Liam scrunches up his trousers). They’re just so sad and serious all the time and why would anyone want to be with them? Louis isn’t bad at it exactly, but he’s not shining through the screen the way Harry and Zayn do occasionally. He’s obviously still learning how to connect with the camera, but he’s mercifully unawkward.

Night Changes: Louis isn’t bad in Night Changes. He’s not super awkward and you’re not worried that he’s a homocidal maniac (the standards are low when it comes to this video). He even connects once or twice (2.10 - you’ve seen it gifed and maybe looking in the mirror). There’s only one moment where he goes full 'I am Performing’ (3.20 - although I get a bit distracted assessing his peroformance once the police arrives. Both because I hate the police, and because it seems pretty telling that the only black person in a sigificant role in a 1D music video is a cop). But ultimately there’s nothing that appealing about his segments - not being awkward isn’t enough. And as usual, Louis’ version of heterosexuality is pretty unappealing. He seems far more iterested in being seen to be a good boyfriend, and his car, than acutally connecting with y/n (although to be fair, he’s more interested than usual in being seen to be a good boyfriend).

Drag Me Down: Oh dear god the pointing! The noticeable difference between this and Perfect, is how much less Louis has anything to do, or anyone to interact with. There’s this very brief moment with Niall, where you see some interaction and it’s so much better. He could always do relaxed interaction - and there are some good bits while he’s driving. But mostly in Drag Me Down Louis is stuck in the limbo of nothing in particular to do, with no solution but to point.

Best Song Ever: Is the beginning of this video the most convincingly heterosexual Louis has ever been? (Both him playing a sleazy executive and then him as him checking Zayn out). It may be, but less unconvincingly heterosexual is not part of my criteria for a good music video performance. His performance in this video is full of all the strategies he developed in 2012 to hold tension (more of that below). I think in the ‘you know/I know’ bit we start to see him learning what else he’s good at. But he’s not quite there yet - he’s not quite connecting - for all his arms are outspread.

Live While You’re Young: It was watching this music video, that I realised that reviewing Louis’ music video performances was much more emotionally charged, even than reviewing Zayn’s. Because you can see when Louis stops moving in a free and easy way, you can see the techniques starts to use to ensure he’s holding tension throughout his body, you can see when ‘don’t be read as gay’ became the first imperative for Louis’ in music videos - over engagement or connection. And it starts here.

Mostly it’s just less - less engaged, less joyful (still quite interactive, but less effective). But then there’s the moments where instead he goes for ‘Performing’ - but with tension all through his body. Right from the video diaries, Louis would go for a hammy, silly performance register (I think often to cover his nerves), and it was fine in a short clip. But Louis’ can’t be hammy and connect - so this doesn’t work in a music video. Rather than being charming, he just looks like he’s trying too hard. You see it particularly towards the end when they’re in the pool. He’s silly in a way that takes you out of the moment and reminds you he’s performing.

Kiss You: And in this video, we get introduced to Louis’ second strategy to hold tension, and that’s a very fake kind of toughness (depending on how you look at it, you could either say it’s short lived, or that he learns to be tough with a little bit of openness). There are still some really lovely moments of joy and interaction in Louis’ performance here. But throughout this video you can see Louis practicing toughness in different and wildly ineffective ways. And none of it works. All of it takes away from the joy and interaction that makes the video work more broadly.

History: So I know this was filmed in 35 minutes, by a group of very burnt out people and having any expectations is absurd. But it’s so bad. And it’s such a good example of the fundamental weakness of later 1D music videos. Who thought having them standing around in a circle singing, not interacting with each other, and also not pretending to perform in a more structured way - was a good idea? (We know who - and the only reason that I’m not saying it was his worst idea is, because his worst idea has a death toll that is still climbing). None of them are good in that environment - it’s the opposite of what makes their early music videos work (and why the very low camera? What is that supposed to add?). Anyway Louis is predictably terrible, and at 0.56 seconds his capital P performing leads to him actig out out the song in a way that makes me wonder if he thinks he’s in the wiggles.

Midnight Memories: His outfit is good. And there’s one moment in 3.05, where you get a glimpse of him reacting to being on Tower Bridge (oh and he’s OK at someone not having fun at the party in the beginning). Apart from that, this video is a combination of the worst of Louis’ music video performace techniques. He swings from fake toughness, to hammy children’s performer and back regularly and neither of them have anything to be said for them.

#Anonymous #Oh Louis #much love #I'll imagine it'll be a while before we get another music video from you #but I am really interested in where you go next #(away from Charlie Lightening!#His shootign styled doesn't bring out your strengths)#would love to hear other people's thoughts

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iwritethat · 5 years

Text

Wally West: One

A/N: This was a detour from what I was doing. Oops.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

"M'gann?"

"Yes."

"The cute alien chic?" You thought of the girl, clarifying it was indeed the correct one.

"Yes."

"And you're sure this one is the one because you said that 3 girls ago."

"Yes... I mean no, I don’t know - look can you please help me (Y/n)." Wally playfully pleaded with you like he’d done on multiple occaisions prior to this and you could only shrug in defeat.

"Sure but my conditions remain the same."

"I know, no bragging, pizza on me, you pick the film for the next 3 weeks."

"And?" You mockingly coaxed, knowing how much the next particular demand pained him which was evident in his deadpan but reluctant tone.

"And no mocking your dates."

"Good."

The following day you’d stategically accompanied Kid Flash on a visit to Mount Justice, the sight of you two together was no surprise to Robin, Aqualad nor Speedy though the remainder were intrigued by the mysterious stranger so Wally proudly made introductions.

"Hey M'gann, Conner, this is (Y/n)."

"Ah, this is who you love so much to talk about!" The Martian beamed grasping your hands as you shot a glare to a flustered Wally, the guy sheepishly running a hand through his strands.

"Is this your... girlfriend?" Superboy casually inquired after thinking of the correct terminology, yet again leaving you to wonder what your friend has been saying about you in your absence - also considering the implication this’d have on your scheme.

"No! Definitely not! I'm totally single, just because I've told you about (Y/n) doesn't mean we're dating. We're not dating by the way." Wally briskly recovered, blush fading as he emphasised his point specifically for the sake of M'gann.

"Nice to meet you both. Ah Kaldur!" You lit up once seeing the Atlantean, immediately embracing his form just as he did to you in hopes of catching up with him.

"It's been a while (Y/n), you look well."

"(Y/n) is here? Looking as lovely as ever, surprised you're still hanging with Wally though, you're way out of his league." Robin proudly joked as he walked toward you, genuinely happy to see you again and a girl called Artemis agreed with him despite only recently learning your name - supposedly teasing Wally was a commodity amount the Team.

"I'm here for training, Canary said she'd activated the sparring platform so I wanted to test it." With a content shrug you set your plan in motion, gesturing over to the designated area as indication.

Now you were very well trained, the team knew that so it wasn't a surprise when every single member landed with a 'FAIL' until Wally challenged your winning streak. You went two rounds, the first you played to his strengths allowing him to take you down with his speed and received the only 'PASS' of the day. M'gann cheered, flying over with questions and compliments whilst you comfortably sat up and proudly watched Wally bask in the desired attention. Meanwhile got to your feet, brushing yourself only to be met with a smirking Robin beside your figure.

"I know what you're doing and you are good at it, but I don't think it's gonna work."

"Does it ever work with Wally? He's never met a girl he's really caught deep feelings for but I'm only in it for the free food he's promised me." Came your knowing reply, softly smirking at Robin who seemed to disagree but accepted your justification nonetheless.

"There is one y'know..."

"Hey (Y/n) ready to get your ass whooped by the best there is? Fastest kid alive babe." The speedster smugly gained your deadly gaze, his boasting violating the agreement you’d struck less than 24 hours ago and thus not giving you a chance for Robin to elaborate like you’d wished.

This time you would not allow him a victory, like the others you took him out with a mischievous smile and then crouched over his waist whilst he leaned up on his elbows to meet you.

"No. Bragging." You raised a brow, tilting his chin towards you as you punctuated each word as a reminder before heading out. Although your plan had still succeeded to a degree, you walked backwards finding the Martian kneeling down to your friend inquiring about his condition as you winked at him - Wally seemingly impressed with your antics, as he usually was whenever he roped you into these scenarios.

You retained your attentive skills, even talking him up to M'gann but it became painfully obvious that her romantic affections were reserved for a certain clone which left you disappointed albeit pleased for her. Now, you had to break the news to Wally - you'd considered such measures while sitting against the wall in one of the Mountains many hallways bouncing a ball off of the other side as a form of contemplation.

Soon enough your felt a familiar comforting presence beside you, catching the ball and initiating a harmless game between the two of you.

"What's on your mind?" Wally knew you incredibly well, narrowing down I even the smallest quirks and he'd use that to his advantage.

"Nothing, but I'm afraid you might have to give up on M'gann."

"I know. Supes right?" He didn't seemed phased by your sympathetic disclosure, which surprised you slightly due to how long he’d spent gushing over the girl.

"Yeah, sorry West."

"It's alright. Thanks for trying, I'll still get you that pizza."

"But I didn't...?" His response was unexpected, leaving you somewhat speechless but he soon continued with conversation before you could finish, no evidence of heartbreak to be seen.

"That Dan guy you went out with? (Y/n) c'mon you're stunning, and he didn't even offer to pay the full check at the coffee shop. You deserve so much better, his flirting game was awful too." Wally reminisced on the details you’d cruelly given knowing he wouldn’t able to comment due to you deal, although such a thing was now void and you’d regretted that decision. Yet part of you enjoyed his mocking support.

"So I get the pizza but have to suffer your judgements for not getting you a date? I'm sure you have something to say about Jackson too." You threw your head back with an exaggerated sigh, Wally laughing as he replied.

"Don't get me started..."

How unaffected Wally seemed about the let down still puzzled you, although you believed something else must've attained his focus - not that you had any indication of what it was as you sat flicking through the channels.

"So... there's another girl." There it is.

"Dude, are you kidding me? Give yourself a month at least."

"No this one is the one, I know it." His tone was oddly confident compared to his usual dilemmas regarding that topic which automatically gained your full attention.

"Uh Huh. And when did you meet her? Love at first sight or whatever?"

"I've known her longer than a few days give me some credit here. But it wasn't at first sight, I didn't even notice it was happening or rather happened..." Wally's point was certainly more realistic in comparison and he was being truthful - again, maybe this peculiar circumstance held promise.

"You know my terms an-" You simply shrugged, assuming he wanted your assistance once more which dulled your growing investment slightly.

"No, not for this one."

"Hot damn, this woman must be special. Tell me everything!" That decision shocked you and it was evident in your tone, you excitedly encouraged him to indulge your lowkey interrogation since he never turned down your assistance.

"Yes she definitely is, but I don't know what to do for her y'know?"

"Romantic restaurant? Roses? Tell her over a romantic dinner." You listed things instantly, barely stopping for a breather.

"Would you want all that though?" Wally considered your ideas, furrowing his brows before he asked his question even if his posture radiated nervousness despite the confident facade he’d attempted to convey.

"Hah, no way! Honestly I'd love a chill night in, order a take out, put on a good series and just enjoy each other's company. I mean roses are nice too but I want to know my date likes me enough to relax and be themselves - you can't really do that in a fancy restaurant. Anyway, you should probably find out what this girl likes first." You simply smiled, giving him an honest opinion and advice for you felt he'd finally found someone more than just a crush to him.

"I guess..."

It was silent for a moment until familiar words echoed in your mind 'There is one y'know...' and instantly you stood up with your realisation.

"I know who it is!"

"What?! How?!" Wally snapped to with concern evident in his expression like a deer in headlights, unbeknownst to you why that was but he too halted in his tracks.

"Dick told me, I don't believe it Wally - it's great!" Now you had Artemis in your head, they'd hated one another at first so it certainly made sense that he'd grown to like her. They'd also kissed at New Years Eve or so you'd heard.

"Robin told you I liked you?! Are you kidding? He only knows because I thought he had a crush on you." That answer caught you off guard, practically disintegrating your ability to form a coherent sentence or even think straight due to the abruptness of it.

"Wait me? I didn't, um, I can't, since when? All the times I've been helping you with girls I... I..."

"Wait you didn't know? Okay stay there, I'm doing this again!" Wally held his hands out in defence, soon disappearing leaving you standing alone with your thoughts. A dangerous thing really.

Did you even have feelings for him? Quite possibly, that would explain why you occasionally compared dates to him and why you were always so willing to help him find his happiness but surely you wouldn't have suppressed them? It was so confusing.

Within a minute he appeared before you, a single red rose in hand and sheepish smile.

"I'm late I know that but there's no pressure for you. This is not how I expected you to find out, I aimed to flirt with you and only you before making a move so it wasn't thrown on you so suddenly but here we are. Guess I'm not great with girls without you."

With a mischievous grin, you pulled him close by his red hoodie and gently met his lips with your own and you couldn't deny how right it felt - an action you’d hope would quell the warring emotions. You pulled apart, his arms wrapped around your waist and yours on his shoulders.

"You're actually quite adequate, I'm just as surprised as you are."

"Oh you're hilarious." He matched your witty sarcasm, but still you find his happiness intoxicating.

"Can we, um could we take things slow? I know that's ironic to ask the fastest kid alive but please."

"I'd slow down for you, I want to take my time in every moment I get so it won't be a problem (Y/n). I promise." Despite the trace of concern in your voice, Wally was reassuring and sincere with his words so you both felt comfortable in whatever situation you'd crafted.

"So, I assume you won't be mocking my dates anymore."

"I think every date you'll have from now on is gonna be too great for me judge. Ah too bad, I know how much you loved me doing that." The speedster playfully responded with a knowingly satisfied smirk to which you threw him an 'are you serious?' expression.

Later, as you both sat comfortably on Wallys' bed eating pizza whilst a film played in the background, you received simultaneous texts from none other than Dick Grayson - his smugness translated even in a message.

[Dickiebird: Told you so.]

#wally west #wally west x reader #wally west imagine #kid flash #kid flash x reader #kid flash imagine #dc #dc imagine

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path-of-fire · 5 years

Text

No Way Out

Aghadi x Fem!MC

Word Count: 1,276

Summary:

Warnings: Angst

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this Aghadi snippet, and I'm sorry if it's not very good.

-----

Everywhere I turn, I hurt someone, but there's nothing I can say to change the things I've done. Of all the things I hid from you

His daughters words swirl within his mind. His heart breaking more and more at each word. He could feel his tears starting to stream down his face. His mind was starting to fill with darkness and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

His little girls voice only causing his pain to grow. Everything he has done rushing back towards him at her question.

A question he hadn't been able to answer.

A question that completely shattered his heart.

I cannot hide the shame and I pray someone, something will come to take away the pain

All the memories of what he's done rushing back at that moment. Reminding him of everything he's done to the people he loves. Everything he has ripped away from them.

He wants nothing more than to shield himself from the pain, but he doesn't. He doesn't deserve the comfort of warmth and security. He deserves all the harsh iciness of solitude.

It's what he deserves for everything he has done.

There's no way out of this dark place. No hope, no future I know I can't be free, but I can't see another way, I can't face another day

What would his daughter think of him?

Would she still look at him with eyes full of love when he returns from council meetings all day? Or would she cower in fear at his mere presence?

The mere thought alone causes his already battered heart to break that much more. How could he live with himself knowing what he's done? Everything that he has destroyed.

How could he face his family, his wife and daughter, when he knows what he has ripped from them? When he knows what he made his love see. The nightmares that he has caused

The nightmare he, himself, is.

How could he allow their light to be tainted by his darkness?

Tell me where, did I go wrong? Everyone I loved, they're all gone. I'd do everything differently, but I can't turn back the time. There's no shelter from the storm inside of me

He remembers a time in his life when there was nothing but sunshine. When his smile was permanently on his face. The birds seemed to always be singing. Their beautiful songs filling the air with beauty and grace.

Now?

Now there was nothing but darkness. The birds dying long ago. Their harmonious song disappearing, leaving him alone.

Isolated.

Just the way it was supposed to be. He was always meant to be alone. There was no saving him and there was nothing anyone could do.

There was no way out for him.

There's no way out of this dark place

There was nothing he could do.

No hope, no future

There was nothing that he could stop the darkness from taking over.

I know I can't be free

He would never be able to get rid of it.

But I can't see another way

There was nothing left for him to do.

I can't face another day

Nothing.

I can't believe the words I hear. It's like an answer to a prayer. When I look around I see this place, this time, this love of mine

"Aghadi?"

The soft voice breaks his train of thought. His body stiffening at the soft tone. The voice that causes his heart to skip a beat in happiness.

A happiness he doesn't deserve.

Turning he looks into your eyes. The beauty within your gaze causing his breath to catch. Still to this day you were the most amazing creature he has ever set eyes on. Your beauty and light making him feel like he could be better than he was.

Makes him believe that maybe someday he could have his light back too.

Feeling your soft hands cup his cheek causes his eyes to close. Feeling the comfort only you could ever give to him.

Your voice being the only thing that could make him open his eyes. The concern laced within your tone causing his heart to lurch. "Aurora told me about what she asked you. I knew you would be here and I knew that I would find you like this. Are you okay, my love?"

He tries to respond to you, he does, but he can't bring force the words from his lips. He could only stare at you with more tears falling from his eyes.

Seeing his expression causes your own to fall. A soft sigh escaping your lips as you press them to his forehead.

"Oh, my love."

I know its hard but you found, somehow, to look into your heart and to forgive me now

"Don't let your thoughts control you, my love, you are stronger than you were back then. Okay? You are more then what you used to be. Don't let it control you. I love you. Aurora absolutely adores you and nothing will ever change that."

You've given me the strength to see just where my journey ends. You've given me the strength to carry on

Raising his tearful face, to look at you, he can't help the smile that spreads across it. Your eyes were shining with love and your voice was full of comfort.

Bringing his hand up to cup your cheek, he stares at you with wonder within his gaze. His voice coming out in reverent whisper. "How did I get so lucky to have you as my wife?"

A soft chuckle escapes you lips at his question. Your eyes sparkling with delight at his words. Bringing you forehead to his you brush your noses together with your smile on growing.

"About as lucky as I am to have you as my husband."

He could only stare at you, in awe, at your words. Your sparkling eyes filled with so much light. Your beautiful laugh filling the optessive silence of the air.

I see the path from this dark place

Your presence causing the darkness to recede. Filling the world, once more, with light and happiness.

I see my future

You you everything he you worked for, and he would work even harder to keep you.

Your forgiveness has set me free

He would work to make sure his forgiveness had been earned.

On and I can see another way

Your love and your light was what set him free.

I can face another day

He would spend the rest of his life filling you world with love and joy.

I see the path, I can see the path

He would love you till the day the both of you passed on.

I see the future

The rest of his days would be with you and the family you have made. Filling Ioria with the sounds of laughter and joy once again.

I see the path from this dark place

The darkness will be forgotten and in its stead there will be only beauty and joy.

I see the future

There would be no more suffering as long as he could help it.

I see the path, I can see the path

And as he wraps you in his arms, pulling you close, he presses a kiss to your head. He couldn't help the smile that spreads across his face.

You were the light that he has been waiting for his entire life. You were the way out of the darkness.

You were the one that makes him feel less alone, and he will always be the same to you.

Forever.

I see the future

#aghadi #snippet #i hope you all like it

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thimbleswrites · 5 years

Text

with the lights out, it’s less dangerous | the last time

Pairing: Frankie Dalton x Original Female Character

Genre: Angst / Drama

Word count: 4k

Warnings: love/hate relationship, implied smut, suicidal thoughts

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3884773/chapters/8685547

Author’s note: I wrote this a long time ago but I’m posting all my fics on my writing blog. I explain more about the Blood Donors concept in the a/n on A03 if anyone’s interested, click the link above.

Summary:

Anita, a human that Edward has been harboring in his house for years, struggles with the isolation of living as a fugitive in a world full of vampires. With the threat of being reduced to nothing but a Blood Donor looming just outside the walls of Edward's house, she must decide whether it is time to end it all or find a way to deal with the desolation.

But is the dangerous game she finds herself playing with Frankie Dalton, Edward's human-hunting brother, the best solution to her loneliness?

Set pre-Daybreakers.

Next: honesty hour

"Goddamn it, Frankie, I have until sundown to get some sleep before a shit load of work tomorrow – I'm not having this conversation again; it's done!"

A beat of silence follows the words as the dismissal rings heavy in the air and a resounding snarl tears through the tension. Anita grimaces at the sound of footsteps up the stairs and tries to press herself back against the hinged door, into nonexistence – a thin hand clawing at the threshold as she waits with bated breath.

No matter how many arguments she heedfully witnesses, how many times Edward tells her that she is safe after Frankie blows in and out of their lives over and over again, how many times she manages to make it just one more day without being caught and forced as a Blood Donor: the dread that makes her stomach clench in an almost paralyzing sort of fear is a constant reminder that she is never safe.

The comfort of safety is not a luxury she can afford – not anymore.

The years spent hiding with a decreasing amount of fellow human who had refused vampirism had not been wasted with pointless dreams of a secure future. Those days were harsh, dirty, and cruel – but in each other there was at least a small repose of normalcy. Humans living (well surviving, because what they had been doing was not actually living) with other humans.

A human living with one (sometimes two, she remembers with a tingle up her spine) vampires, though.

She wants to laugh at the thought of such an illusion as safety for someone in her position, but seeing as it's the one thing standing between her and becoming a daily juice box, she refrains. That is if she could remember how to laugh; the muscles surrounding her mouth are usually only ever exercised into a frown and she imagines that the act of straining them upwards might be foreign and difficult.

Her attempt at becoming a chameleon is at once deemed futile under the fierce gaze of Frankie Dalton as he passes in the hall. He's only just gotten back from his most recent tour of duty and as per usual he is staying at Edward's during his break, unable to afford an apartment he would scarcely ever use.

The first few days of his return are always the worst; Edward almost never remembers the day of Frankie's arrival and the latter's mood turns sour the moment he comes home to see his welcome party consists of one: a somewhat interested (and punctual; she doesn't have much to look forward to these days and even his return on the calendar is something) Anita holding a propped open book in one hand and the world's tiniest banner reading Welcome home, asshole! in her other as she lounges comfortably on a sofa in the office room, ready to leap to her crawl space at a moment's notice.

Just as she thinks that maybe, just maybe this time he will continue to his seldom-occupied bedroom and ignore her, he stops walking and looks her down as if she is a lower species; a turkey attending the Thanksgiving dinner. There is distaste clear in his eyes, rage too, and something even darker that she recognizes somewhere in the back of her mind but does not want to dwell upon.

Anita glowers bitterly up at him, willing him to feel her disgust at him, too, for him to know that this isn't exactly the ideal living situation for her either. A small part of her feels ashamed for those sort of thoughts – the last thing she wants Edward to think she is is ungrateful. She owes him her life, however useless it may be now.

Once, a couple years back, when on a supply raid with her group she had been wounded by a lone poor, starving vampire who had found them and attacked. Her party had left her there, assuming her to be dead, so it was not abandonment – not really, she would have done the same.

Self-hatred burns her insides with the knowledge that this new world – one with the rule of vampires and the hunt of humans like livestock – has charred her soul black to the core, a sense of meaningless survival (what is the point to her life?) taking control on instinct so that she has to fight every day to remember what humanity truly means.

But with an abundance of luck and patience on Edward's part, he had found her bleeding out (thankfully not infected; she'd rather die) and managed to get them both back to his place to nurse her back to health. Her constant attempts at his life or escaping had slowed things down considerably, but she eventually healed and came to the hard realization that her pack was gone. She knew by then they would be cities away and that she was alone. It was with little hesitance that Anita had accepted Edward's offer of shelter and food. Protection, too, but that was taken lightly.

She's never been one to depend on others; she likes to pull her own weight, and her current title of hidden house guest makes her restless. When she had first began living with Edward, she had offered him her blood – not straight from her veins, obviously, but with the proper equipment she would have given him enough, regularly but not nearly as much as she'd have to if she became a Blood Donor, to cushion the blow of his blood-bill. But he had refused; said he didn't drink human, and it would have been a lie to say she was too disappointed. The same offer was never given to Frankie – probably because she knows now, and knew then, that he would not have refused.

"Well, if it isn't the root of the problem." Frankie grinds out, his jaw clenched as he takes a step towards her. "Tell me – do you think Ed sees your face on the humans at his company or just dollar signs?"

She blinks indifferently, keeping her silence. They've danced to this song before, and honestly, she's grown too phlegmatic to be baited so easily.

"Probably not the money." He adds, his voice hard. "He pities you humans too much for his own good. And you in particular, doesn't he?" He chuckles darkly and points at her with his index finger. "No, you're his favorite little stray kitten – here to stay."

At his sneering words she looks back at the small opening across the small office that leads to the crawl space she spends her time in when the sun falls and darkness resumes – a pathetic excuse for living quarters but she is none the wiser, having been in worse conditions while on the streets. At least she has the sleeping bag to herself now.

She is allowed out during the day or when Edward is home and does not have company, but rarely downstairs and always, always she must be quiet (so quiet it is like she is not even there) in case the neighbors can hear. He cooks her food mostly (something she wishes she could do for herself; Edward is an appallingly bad chef) and she is permitted to have a shower every few days even though she has to use his toiletries. She does not mind much, though – things like that have not been a problem for her in a good long while.

It is not that Edward wants to keep her on a short leash so much as he is very meticulous in ensuring that she remains hidden, for his sake and hers. Every single thing is planned and routine; if he is to buy too much extra food or household necessities or if his guest notice that he seems to be housing three occupants, it might raise unwanted suspicion that would be better to avoid entirely. Paranoid, maybe, but it works. And although she will never dare to complain, living in such circumstances is taking the wear and tear out of her.

While food comes easier now than what she has been used to (having been malnourished since she was barely a teen) she is still unhealthy; her skin too pale from the lack of sunlight and the natural growth of her body stinted by the crawl space, making her appear pinched, and so much smaller than she should, too emaciated and frail to the point where she wants to avoid mirrors at all cost on some days. The perpetual dark rims under her grey eyes from many sleepless nights give her the appearance of a ghost, and her hair is almost always in a wild tangle of mousy blonde strands, but sometimes on her more vain days, she manages to run her fingers through it enough to tame the mess. Throughout every thing that has been lost to the war of vampires against humans, vanity seems to trail behind her in a race to catch up; not quite there but never too far behind either.

She looks hollow, dead in the eyes, and it's only fitting, really – she feels the same way.

Anita wishes that she could take pride in her quiet strength – she yearns to think of herself as one of the heroines from the books she reads to assuage her boredom (Edward has books everywhere, scattered in piles in all the nooks and crannies of the house and then some), biding her time before she can join the Revolution with her fellow humans, but honestly, the fear and cowardice that is still present, hidden beneath the bitter sorrow and ferocious contempt, only makes her feel weak. Weak from the tears that wet her pillow at night when she is by herself in the crawl space, holding her arms around her middle as if it will help the sickness, left with nothing but thoughts of death and blood and the unfairness of life.

She misses her family more than she ever thought she would, and it's unbearable because it leaves a gaping, festering hole in her chest that makes her want to lie still until she just stops breathing. At those times, more than usual, it stumps her how anybody could want to live forever. It's a consuming, mindless sort of grief that leaves her breathless and exhausted, hating herself for dwelling on the past when her current standing in the food chain demands all the focus she has.

Anita hates weakness.

And Frankie makes her feel weak.

Especially when he is this close to her, his head tilted down so he can meet her wide eyes, and his body so near her that she can feel the coolness of him. She hates the terror it instills in her at the thought that he can infect her with a smile on his face and her flesh in his teeth if he so desires. And he does desire it – he's told her so, after the two brother's verbal throw down matches over Edward's aiding and abetting a human criminal in his own house, a house that Frankie inhabits ("By knowing and not saying anything it makes me an accomplice, Ed!"). Edward thinks his threats of turning them in are empty ("He won't say anything . . . he owes me." Ed told her once when she had voiced her concerns) and he hasn't yet, however, Anita wouldn't put it past him. She can't turn a corner in a house that Frankie's in without having a threat to turn her thrown in her face.

Even more than that, though, she absolutely despises the other feelings he sparks in her too. The ones that make her flush with heat in her veins and an ache between her thighs from the longing to be close to someone again. Anita despises him for being a selfish monster and she despises him even more when he's not. She despises the salacious want he infixes in her when he glances up with sharp, trained eyes from whatever he is doing to watch her walk back to the office after a shower when she is in only a towel. But more than anything, anything else she despises herself for having allowed him to toy with those feelings periodically over the last four months.

As Frankie stares at her, something akin to understanding glints in his eyes and he takes a quick step in her direction, making her fall back two. After a moment she has enough sense to worry he might have recognized the look in her eyes as more than offense at his words. There is a familiar sort of triumph in his voice as he sneers, "Something bothering you, pet?"

The sound of the taunting sobriquet he had long ago christened her coming from his lips is far too palatable for her to handle so she imagines what the screams of the humans he has hunted and forced into the Blood Revenue Agents hands would sound like instead, so loud and terrible that it can banish those bad, bad feelings that surround her off to another place where things that are wrong go to.

For the moment, it works.

"Yes – you are standing too close," Anita finally murmurs, and something frightening in her roars at the covetous flash in his eyes as they narrow at her, but she silences it by biting her tongue, unable to resist the opportunity to wipe the smirk off of his face. "And I can still smell the blood of my people marring your precious honor, sir."

The corners of his mouth twist down at her mockery and he raises his chin, trying to intimidate her with his authority, but the vampire soldier card no longer makes her shrink in fear as it once did. She has had quite a bit of time in the weeks of Frankie's absence to prepare herself for his overwhelming presence that has always had a different effect on her than Edward's. She will no longer permit herself to be a distraction for him to amuse himself with whenever he likes purely because he can. She is more than his filthy little secret, and certainly better than him.

Her lips thin and she brings herself to full height, which is only a wee few inches shorter than him, but still her neck cranes up slightly to meet his gaze. She has pushed off from the door and he moves backwards to avoid physical contact. The fact that he is the one who falls back weighs heavy on him and his frown deepens in anger.

His relentless harassment over the years has been all too entertaining for him because of the easy prey she has always presented him with. His ability to read her like an open book is almost congenital – Frankie knows Anita to her very core; her thoughts, her fears, her dreams, he knows exactly what to do to provoke her. He can send her into a furious rage with a few casual words or tear her apart by a single deliberate look. But now the game has changed. She has surprised him with this sign of defiance; this charge of offensive play, and he does not know how to react to it.

A small thrill shoots through her from his falter, and the courage it gives her comes out in the smooth words she spits into his face, "Something bothering you, Frankie?"

She can almost taste victory in her mouth when his ochroid eyes flash and he quickly leans into her, a smirk curling onto his face, making her stumble back away from him and warily glance at the protruding fangs that press into his pale lower lip. He smiles widely to show her his teeth more clearly; a wolf's grin, and watches her clenched jaw tremble beneath the unspoken threat, eyes dancing and alight with the prospect of a challenge.

"Careful now, pet, wouldn't want to cross lines you can't come back from, would you?" He cautions.

The air feels weighted with the tension, as if electricity is crackling against her skin, sending sparks through her nervous system but she holds her ground and straightens. The warning is obvious in his voice; he wants her to know that he is in control. She hates that.

He is so close she can feel his breath fanning her face, and although it makes hers come in faster than she would care to admit, Anita resists the urge to swivel her head to the side. "Fuck your lines."

The curse word feels strange on her tongue, although she is pleasantly surprised at the evenness of her tone, and she enjoys his confounded look at her having taken a page from his book – he frequently uses the crude terms, and at least one adolescent innocent tendency has always made her wince when he casually refers to them – but it had sounded sharp and primitive and she is impressed by herself. She instantly realizes that she likes how fierce it makes her feel.

"Ooh, such language, Nita. Wouldn't expect it from you." He grins at her, his tongue grazing briefly over one fang, so quickly that she barely notices it with a sweeping sensation sent straight to her toes, and continues, "And while I appreciate that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, maybe you should mind your manners for now. After all, pets who misbehave must be . . . castigated."

Her knees quake, nearly giving out at his tone: almost a teasing threat, and that realization makes her stomach flutter in equal parts fright and excitement. She inhales deeply, pulling down the frayed sleeves of her sweater past her fingers.

Frankie's smile fades as his mouth contorts into a thoughtful expression and his eyes size her up. The hairs on the back of her neck stand up, but she is not sure if it is because of the dread in her stomach or the heat that flames in her cheeks and along her ears when he steps forward with his arms extended out on either side of her head, efficiently trapping her between the door and his body. He pushes a strand of hair from her darting eyes with a gentle motion; a mocked sign of affection, and lets the tip of his finger rest on her temple.

He is pushing her, stretching their interaction like a rubber band, testing to see how far he can go before she breaks. He doesn't have to push far this time – a simple movement; he bites gently and deliberately into his lower lip and his eyes drop to her mouth – and then she is shoving his arms away scathingly, hitting him with her fist as she turns to her crawl space.

Frankie catches her readily around her waist and flings her back against a wall, grabbing her wrists in his hands when she tries to struggle and pinning them above her head. His face is close enough to hers that she can clearly see the smile lines in his right cheek when the corner of his lip quirks up in that crooked grin that makes her loathe these moments with him as much as she secretly looks forward to them, although, she will never admit the hold he has on her; a strong fist around her rotting heart, forcing it to pulsate when the beats begin to degenerate.

Sometimes she wishes he would just let her die.

He thrusts a knee between her legs, pressing his body onto hers, and she can't breathe – she can't even muster the energy to ignore the way her body responds to the familiar feeling of him against her; the way her hips cant upwards into him, all but unwillingly.

And sometimes she wants nothing more than this.

"Fuck you." Anita seethes, because he looks so smug, like such a smug bastard that her blood practically boils and she feels alive.

"Hm, fuck me?" Frankie muses. "You're being rather straightforward today."

"Well, you know what they say." She returns with a sharp grin on her face that she saves just for him. "Bold is beautif – oh!"

He had ducked down into her neck, his mouth opened wide, and for only a moment she considers that he is finally making good on his threat to tear into her jugular vein, but it's not his teeth. It's his tongue, and she thinks that might be worse. He's kissing the base of her throat, ravaging the skin there (because Anita will shit a brick if she ever sees Frankie being tentative in his actions), and it almost hurts; she knows there will be a bruise there in a few hours.

There always is.

"Wait." She protests wearily, her heart beating a tattoo of his name onto her rib cage. "You said it was the last time. We agreed – we agreed the last time was it."

"I changed my mind." He says easily, his mouth trailing up to her jaw. "God, you're so fucking warm."

And the low, guttural sound of his voice makes her knees actually give out this time. He only tightens his fingers around her wrists, though, and his thigh between her legs keeps her upright, but oh – his thigh between her legs. She trembles.

Her eyes fall closed with a pleased, drawn out sigh and he lets out a breathy laugh.

"You want this just as much as I do, don't you, pet?" He taunts, scraping his fangs lightly over her skin.

Anita growls but before she can retort he presses his lips to hers and kisses her in a way that only he's ever done; hard, deep, angry. He releases her right hand and she presses her palm to the nape of his neck, holding him in place as she responds to his jabbing remark by nipping at his bottom lip. She makes a noise at the back of her throat when his tongue invades her mouth.

He's cold – all vampires are. But Anita doesn't see it like they do in the old YA novels about the then-mythical vampire, it is not just some side effect of being a dashing creature of the night like the young heroines think it is; it's one of the things she hates the most when she's with Frankie like this, because it reminds her that he is dead. He has no pulse, no heartbeat. Frankie is cold like a corpse, a walking disease.

This thought gives her resolve a burst of renewed strength and she tugs her other hand free from his grasp, holding tightly to his shirt as she pants, "We can't keep doing this." But even as the words leave her, she allows her hand to drift down towards his stomach, feeling the taut muscles of his abdomen beneath her exploring fingers.

Jesus, help me, Anita thinks desperately, he's my Kryptonite.

He's undeterred – his mouth hovering over hers, golden eyes watching her intently as his hands go to her hips and he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of her pants. "Why not?" He asks, softly, the words drifting over her lips.

She pauses, distracted by the way his fingers stroke circles onto her skin.

He smiles at her hesitancy, touching his lips lightly to hers.

The tenderness throws her into momentary surprise, but he suddenly grips the back of her thighs and lifts her up, propping her against the wall as her legs lock instinctively around his waist, and there's nothing tender about what's digging into the inside of her thigh. She gasps when his hands slide up her sweater, one at the small of her back and the other on her breast.

She kisses him fervidly, nearly slicing open her tongue on his fang, and cradles his jaw in her hands – he grins into her mouth, apparently satisfied by her response, and her body screams this is the last time, just once more.

"I'm not into necrophilia – you son of a bitch," Anita murmurs, short of breath, but even she hears the fond way the words are spoken.

"Shut up," Frankie groans as his mouth goes to her collarbone, his hand tugging one of her legs higher over his hip while his groin steadily rocks into the apex of her thighs as if to prove his next words, "D'you think I want to want this? I've taken playing with my food to an all new level."

And she doesn't even try to stop the morbid laugh that leaves her as he carries her to his bedroom.

It's the last time, after all.

#daybreakers #frankie dalton #edward dalton #daybreakers fanfiction #frankie x original charcter #michael dorman #thimbles fics

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