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peachesofteal · 1 year

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Dead Disco / Chapter 8

Dead Disco masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.7k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, explicit sex. Top Simon Riley. Bottom Johnny MacTavish. Barebacking, oral sex - fem receiving, anal fingering, rimming. Anxiety, crying. Caretaking. Comfort. Relationship issues. Established throuple. Angst. Darling is her/your own tag and warning. The guys get back.

“Two weeks?”

Simon steps closer to where you’re stalking around in the kitchen, working a circular pattern into the floor with your pacing. “It’s not ideal-“

“Not ideal? It’s… it’s about to be Christmas.” your voice squeaks with disbelief, misery, heart squeezing in your chest uncomfortably. “You just got home.” The idea of facing two more long, cold weeks in the dead of winter makes your bones rattle inside your body, worsened by the fact that you’ll most likely be alone for the holidays.

“Ah know, we know, love. But we cannae control when we’re needed. Ye know this.” The words strike true, and instantly deflate you. You do know.

You know too well.

“We’ll try to be home before Christmas.” Simon vows, but you shake it off. It sounds, it feels, like too much of a promise. Too much like the bitter pill of disappointment.

You shove it down as far as you can. Try to patch over the rip in your soul that’s turned into a pit, devolved into a galaxy ending black hole in your heart.

“It’s fine.”

“Darling.” He reaches for you, fingers moving into your line of sight, but you duck it, opting to turn back towards the cabinets, picking up the clean glassware that you were in the middle of putting away.

“I’m fine.” Your tears lie in wait, stinging up your nose, forcing you to swallow against a shallow breath.

“We don’t want to be away from you, you know that.” He tries, and Johnny sidles up next to you, watching with concern. You ignore them both, counting your breaths, arranging the glassware one by one, opting to focus on the task instead of the storm that’s brewing in your head.

“I know. It’s fine.” You huff, last glass going up inside the cabinet with a rattle. Your hands are shaking, everything overwhelmed by trying to keep yourself together.

“Darling.” Simon says again, and you brush him off, pulling the silverware caddy from the machine. The utensils jangle together, loudly, and Simon tries to get your attention again.

You pull the drawer with a jerk, hard and fast. Smooth.

Too smooth.

It jumps the track and flies towards the ground, silverware and odds and ends falling to the floor, both you and Johnny lunging to catch it without success.

It crashes across the kitchen, like thunder cracking across a night sky, a firework in the dark.

Johnny flinches, jolting from where he crouches with a hand outstretched for the runaway drawer. Simon doesn’t startle as bad, but he squints, before relaxing.

And then you burst into tears.

“Fuck!” you blubber. “Fff-fuck. I’m so-sorry.” You turn with blurred vision into a thick wall of mass, Simon, who’s arms go around you immediately, strong hand on the nape of your neck.

“It’s alright. You’re alright. We’re here.” He’s soft with his words, lips pressing to the top of your head. He holds you there, murmuring in your ear, coaxing your breaths slower, promising that everything’s okay. “Bedroom lights.” He instructs Johnny, still holding you tight.

“Rog.” Johnny replies automatically, and you shake your head in teary denial.

“The mess.” He rebukes your protest.

“We’ll clean it up later, darling. Let’s take care of you first.”

You hear the helicopter before you see it.

The blades whirl, cutting through the air effectively, and you try not to bounce on your tiptoes as the figures in the far distance disembark from the giant machine.

You can’t help it. You’re really excited.

There’s been something about being here waiting for them, being one of the first faces they see after they land, that absolutely delights you. It sings in your heart, making you smile and sigh, drawing you to the hangar to wait for them to come through the big, wide opening.

Johnny is first. He’s walking beside Simon, but actively looking, searching the faces that are milling about, some who are more stationary, like you, obviously waiting for something.

When he finds you, his mouth moves, body jostling into Simon’s side, and then he’s running. Sprinting.

He’s on you before you can blink, scooping you up, arms like steel curling around your thighs and hoisting you in the air hard enough that your hands come crashing down on his shoulders and his face is buried in your cleavage.

“Put me down!” You shriek with a little bit of laughter, a little bit of fake outrage.

He drops you a bit, but he doesn’t let go. Just keeps his grip around your waist, pulling your body into his, chasing your mouth with his own.

“Missed ye, darling.”

“It was only three days.” You chide, but your heart glows.

“Three days too long. Wonder if the boss‘ll let me retire. Take care o’ ye instead of doing this.”

“Oh, stop.” The protest is halfhearted, the smile that graces your face too much of a giveaway.

You half push him off playfully, still holding onto his jacket, and peek around, looking for the other piece of the puzzle.

He’s standing there, watching. The grey skull that’s pulled over his face sobers your glee, and you move to step forward, but Johnny holds you tight, mouth above your ear.

“Wait, darling. We’ll all go back tae the room, aye?” Simon nods, like he knows what Johnny is saying, even though you’re sure he cannot hear him.

“Okay.” You stay tucked up under his arm, Simon walking in lock step behind you both.

“This was suppose’ tae be a nice dinner.” Johnny grunts, and you gurgle a response around his cock, length stuffed deep in your throat. The edge of the table pinches against your skin, reminding you of exactly where you are, laid across the dinner table on your belly, bent at the waist with Johnny in front of you, Simon on his knees behind you, thumb spreading you wide for his tongue.

“It was.” Simon assures him. His breath heats the skin of your backs of your thighs, a wet finger swirling around the tight ring of muscle between your cheeks. There are mashed potatoes on the floor next to his knees, splattered on the hard wood near the spot where the gravy is slowly trickling over the edge of the table. You feel… a little bad about it. A little guilty. Johnny worked hard on this dinner, and you truly did appreciate it, you just didn’t anticipate being the dessert.

“Until someone called me a liar.”

You try to protest, but your mouth is too full.

That’s not what you meant. You weren’t calling him a liar. You just… don’t know how to process this. How to believe.

“We,” Simon presses a kiss to the swell of your ass, “want to keep you, darling.” Another drag of his lips, this time on the crease of your hip. “We want to take care of you.” Teeth graze along your inner thigh, tongue slicking along your skin. “We want to know you.” Fear cuts through the lovestruck, lustful haze that’s penetrated your mind, and you curl your fingers into your palms until the pressure sears with a bite. You focus on that feeling, and not the wariness that’s spreading through your body, the overthinking, the worry that grows from that one sentence: we want to know you.

A part of you wants to float away, wants to drown in the feeling of them, disappear into the toe-curling pleasure, dip beneath the surface and never come back.

But something winds you too tightly to let go. Something lurks in the back of your mind, whispering half-truths, half lies.

It’s not real. They don’t want you. They don’t mean it.

“Why don’t you believe us?” He knows you can’t answer, he must. You groan around Johnny’s cock, hot length pressed against the back of your tongue, and he blows a breath from his nose.

Simon pushes a thick finger against your rim, feeling how you flutter for him, before going deeper, up past his knuckle, and you choke on a gasp, throat constricting around Johnny’s cock. It’s good, sinfully delicious, and you relax to allow him more, a second finger joining the first, stretching you with a sting.

“Johnny.” Simon says his name like a command, and then Johnny’s pulling away, sinking to his knees in front of your face and cradling your jaw with a gentle hand.

“Tell Johnny how it feels.” Simon coaches, and replaces his fingers with his mouth, tongue dipping inside of you with unrivaled skill. You melt into a heap of buttery sweetness, bones nearly liquid, legs trembling.

“Oh, is it good? Tell me darling, use your words.” It’s a little bit mocking, a little bit sincere, with a heaping amount of adoration and lust, and he rubs a thumb across your cheekbone, soft eyes watching yours.

“Ye-eah.” You stretch the vowels, tongue leaden between your teeth. Simon is feasting on you, like he didn’t just eat an entire dinner, like he hasn’t eaten in weeks, big hand spreading one of your cheeks wide so that his entire face is buried in you. “Fuck.”

“Can ye come like this?” You garble out the word yes, then no, then there’s nothing, just your slack jaw, Johnny disappearing from your line of sight.

His mouth is on your cunt a second later. You pant, twisting to try to look, catching a glimpse of him under the table, opposite Simon, bent at an odd angle, tongue lapping at your clit, and his hand inside Simon’s jeans working his cock in long strokes.

It’s circuit overload. Every connection surges to full power, lighting up your muscles, your bones, every hair on your body. You practically vibrate with it, and your knees wobble.

“I- I… can’t!” you cry, a thumb pressing down on your clit, applying pressure in a circular motion, stroking the swollen bud in rhythm with the tongue that dips into your hole.

“Yes, you can.” Simon pulls away, kneading your cheeks with thick fingers. “You can, darling.”

“I can’t-t stand. My-“ You don’t get to finish before you’re being pulled from the dinner table and heaved into someone’s arms, jostling against a chest before your back hits the bed.

Your knees are pushed back, up towards your ears, and heat crawls through your belly when you glance up at where they both stare at your fully exposed cunt.

“Better?” The Scottish accent rasps, and you nod desperately. “Words, love.”

“Yes! Yes, please.” You’re asking for them both, desperate for them both. You’re frantic with it, your need, your desire to be ruined by them. Possessed by them. Loved by them.

You don’t know how to say it, can’t get the words out. They get stuck, hung up on your anxiety, your fear.

“Darling.” Simon reads it, reads you like he always does, pulling you back towards them, grounding you.

Your lungs shudder with a deep breath.

“Please.”

Johnny hits the overhead light off in the room as soon as the three of you get inside.

He sits you on the bed, gently. Kissing your forehead, your temple, before pulling away and flicking the bedside light on, casting warm yellow tones around the concrete blocks.

Simon keeps his back turned, things on his body shifting, being shed, being moved, until the grey skull is being placed on the little table, and the balaclava is being shucked to reveal a scruff of hair and his wide neck.

“Simon?” You whisper, but he still doesn’t turn to you. Johnny strips his gear off as well, but watches, eyes keen. Observant. “Simon…” His shoulders loosen, tension deflating from his muscles but he doesn’t turn, doesn’t move towards you until; “I need you.”

It’s fluid, the steps, the bend, the grace of such a large body sinking to his knees in front of you, arms wrapping around your hips and then his face, smashing into your belly.

“Missed you too.” He murmurs into your skin, and you stroke your fingers through his hair delicately, careful to be slow and deliberate with your movements. You know, Simon is different for work. The grey skull. The ghost.

It can be hard on him. Hard on Johnny. Difficult for them both. For you.

The bed dips, and Johnny’s sitting at your side, leaning you into his chest. A bridge, between two. A web, connecting three.

Yours. Your family.

Hope blooms across your heart, gardens of flowers thriving under the sun of their affection, their care, their love.

Your nose, your eyes begin to burn with the promise of tears. Fuck.

You blink them away, sniffling. The sound causes Simon to jerk, leaning back to peer at you, but your hide your face, and he hums, stroking the back of your neck.

“We’re here, darling.” You nod into him silently, basking in the overload of it all. The sweet. The bitter. The two, together.

“Ah love ye both. So much.” Johnny hums, and it makes the burn worse, the emotions rising inside of you like a tidal flood, waiting to burst through the dam.

“I love you too.” You choke, and Simon grumbles something in response, something that sounds like the three words, before he’s up on his feet, notching his mouth against yours fiercely. He clutches the back of your skull, touching his forehead to yours before moving to Johnny, kissing him sweetly and then pulling away.

“Gotta shower.” He grunts, and you flop onto your back without preamble.

Johnny sighs, curling up next to you, tugging your body into his.

“We’re gon’ to a pub tonight, Kyle, and Price. The three of us tae, ‘course.”

“M-me?” you stutter, eyebrows raised, and he smiles.

“Yes, darling. Ye too.”

The pub is extremely dark. It’s dark enough that Simon seems to be comfortable in just the black mask and hoodie, and Johnny is relaxed, nonchalant with a shoulder leaning against you, head occasionally dipping to whisper something in your ear.

You however, are not relaxed.

Your body is tight, muscles practically iron against the straight-backed chair, mouth dry. You’re out of place, out of your depth. You feel like an ornament of some sort, an adornment. It’s selfish, but you wish you still in the room with the guys, just the three of you. Together, still in that sweet, hazy in-between, floating on admissions of love and adoration.

Conversation flows around you like water, ebbing and flowing as you sip your drink, and Simon’s hand settles on your thigh, thumb stroking a semi-circle into your skin, nodding to something Kyle is saying.

“- and I just don’t want one, but she does. So, I guess we’re getting a dog.” He sighs into his beer, and Johnny snorts.

“Better than a bairn, ah suppose.” He quips. Simon tenses on your other side and then shakes his shoulders out, turning to look at Johnny before leaning in and pressing clothed covered lips to your forehead.

“Alright?” You hum, nodding your response. You’re a little anxious, sure. But otherwise, fine, besides probably needing to use the restroom. You don’t want to take away from this time they have with their friends, their coworkers.

They carry on, talking about something that sounds like work, going back and forth about some finer detail that you can't distinguish, and you drain the rest of the drink, hopping down from the bar seat to go to the bathroom.

Johnny pulls you into him, mouth bumping along your temple to whisper in your ear. “Dinnae take too long, or Ah’ll come lookin’ for ye.”

“Hey, do we still want to do-“ your sentence dies in your throat when you turn corner into the bedroom, where Simon’s got Johnny beneath him on a pillow, an ankle thrown on his shoulder, the lines of both of their bodies, flex of their muscles making your mouth water. “mussels for dinner.” They both turn to look at you, blissed out euphoria on Johnny’s face, while Simon gives you the teeniest smirk, before reaching for you with beckoning fingers.

“How was work?”

“Simon… fucking hell.” Johnny blurts, brow furrowed. Simon hasn’t stopped his ministrations, still slowly dragging his cock in and out of his hole, a teasing pace that has Johnny panting.

A tendril of worry snakes through you. They rarely start without you, why did they start without you? Are you interrupting? Is this-

“Darling.” Simon breaks through your distracted thoughts, hand still outstretched, waiting for yours. When you look up into his eyes, he nods to encourage you, and pulls you closer, thumb stroking over your knuckles, hips still sawing back and forth. You bend a knee onto the bed, pressing your fully clothed body into Simon’s side, the heat of his naked skin warming you through your shirt, and Johnny’s mouth snaps shut, eyes falling dreamily on yours, sly smile scrawling across his face.

“It was good.” You finally answer, never looking away from Johnny, glancing from where Simon’s cock is sliding inside him, to where his gaze is glassy with pleasure. Your own body responds in kind, the view of your partners loving each other making your knees feel kind of weak.

“Someone,” Simon thrusts a little sharper, a little harder, a soft moan sounding from Johnny in response. “wanted to wait for you to get home, but couldn’t.” He speaks perfectly clear, the vocal control something you’ve always been envious of, the fact that he can carry on a conversation while he’s fucking you or Johnny deep something you’ve never understood.

Two sides of your brain war against one another, unsettled fear and insecurity pushing to the forefront even though your body begs you to just get undressed already. You feel out of sorts, and it gnaws away inside your heart, a shadow of yourself slipping away while you watch the way Simon’s hand grips onto Johnny’s thigh.

You shove it down. You’re being ridiculous. You’re reading too much into things, like always. You’ve had this conversation dozens of times. Sex is not exclusive to the three of you at once. Why are you getting so out of sorts?

Simon’s mouth finds your cheek. “Where are you, darling?” He’s stopped moving, fingers stroking along the nape of your neck, the pressure soothing your raw edges, and Johnny props himself up on his elbows, face creased with mild concern.

“I- I’m here.” You try to assure them both, desperate to keep the mood intact, but it comes out a little squeaky, a little off pitch.

Everything grinds to a halt immediately. Simon pulls out slowly, and Johnny reaches for you without a word. You go without complaint, falling into his arms with closed eyes, trying to beat back the nonsense that’s brewing in your mind.

Guilt roars inside your head. You ruined it. Ruined their fun. Ruined the moment.

“I’m fine.” You protest, cuddling in close, nosing along his skin, sticky summer sweat dotting his skin like dew. “Swear.” Simon arranges you so that you’re laying flush with Johnny on your side, and then the comforter is being brought overtop the three of your bodies, soft cocoon of down feathers being tucked around your shoulders.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

They’re not at the bar when you come out.

You catch sight of Simon's out front through the only window in the entire pub, his boss, Price, holding a cigar between his lips, nodding his head thoughtfully at whatever is being said. Your jacket is gone, along with your little purse, tucked underneath Johnny’s arm, half of him visible through the same window. He’s closer to the parking lot, laughing at something with Kyle, face full and happy, so handsome it winds you, tugs a little smile onto your lips.

You’re still smiling when you slip out the front door, making your way towards the side of the pub where the four of them are loitering, no doubt waiting for you to be finished.

When you hear Simon’s voice, you stop dead in your tracks.

“It’s just hard on her, takes a toll.” Simon is talking to Price, who’s got his arms crossed and head cocked, listening intently. “And it’s hard on us too, bein’ away from her for too long. It starts to chafe us. We miss her, and she misses us, and sometimes I worry… about it being the right thing.” Your stomach drops out.

The right thing? The air suddenly feels like ice against your skin, and you hold your breath. Your relationship? He worries if it’s the right thing?

“You’ve made it this long, it’s clear three of you love one another.” Price counters, and you can hear the depressurization of Simon’s lungs, long sigh whistling free.

“She suffers for it, for us. It doesn’t feel fair.” Your eyes go as round as globes, mouth pooling with saliva from the nausea that swamps your stomach.

You should go back inside. You shouldn’t be listening to this, eavesdropping.

You shouldn’t be doing any of this.

You shouldn’t be here.

You turn away, heel crunching against the little rocks that are scattered across the asphalt, and you swear it’s louder than a gunshot.

Simon tenses, shoulders flexing as he turns, eyes wild when they land on you.

“Darling-“ He takes a step forward, and for the first time in so long, you feel like you can’t trust him. As if doesn’t truly see you, like he always has before.

Fair? Fair? Nothing about this was ever fair.

You want to cry. You want to scream. You want to run.

“Darling, listen.” He’s closer now, voice sharp, insistent with command, and you glance past him to where Johnny is practically jogging to your side, confusion rippling across his face.

“I want to go home.” You whisper, not sure if he hears it. Not caring if he does.

You can feel a gaping hole ripping wide in your chest, in your heart. It’s tearing apart all the repairs you’ve made, destroying the effort and love that’s been painstakingly built up, and the hope that’s been fostered inside of you slowly starts to die when you look up at the two of them.

Simon’s eyes are hard with something you cannot name, Johnny’s expression rife with concern, with worry.

“Take me home.”

#peaches writes #dead disco #ghost x soap x reader #ghost x reader x soap #soap x reader x ghost #john soap mactavish x you #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghoap #ghoap x reader #cod mwii

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frostfangalphabitch · 1 year

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The rest of the base has gone to sleep, but you don't sleep anymore. You don't join them in the mess hall anymore, either. You barely eat organic food at all these days, and when you do, it's mainly for pleasure. You can take the organics out of the pilot, but you can't take the love of sweets and pizza out of the organics, you guess. Despite that, you're so far removed from your humanity that it's gotten difficult to relate to most of them. It's not like anyone else is sharing your meals of titanium and copper.

The other pilots look at you with fear and disgust, knowing their inevitable fates if they're ever pitted against you. The mechanics see you as an oddity, a fascination, and heap praise and adoration upon you, but it's hollow in your eyes. It feels more like they're ogling a rare car rather than talking to a pilot. The corps see you as nothing more than a weapon to be pointed at their enemies, or whoever has less money than them that week.

The only person who still respects you as an autonomous individual is your handler. You adore her just as she loves you. Certainly, you're still a weapon - that's what the relationship started as after all - but you think she might be the only human in the base, including the mechanics, who could truly love a weapon of any kind. She's been so good to you through all of this, taking each stage of your radical transformation in stride as naturally as a lover watching her partner go through a more mundane transition. She's only gotten more attracted to you as you've grown into your new form and become more comfortable and confident with yourself. You'd burn the whole world down just to make her happy.

There's one other who respects you for who you are, though: your girl. Your beloved Wolfrun Mk.X, heart of Coral, veins of electricity, and arms of 5 ton power-guzzling metal-shredding AC-devouring WB-0010 Double Trouble carnage. Before all this started, you always thought of her like a weapon, just as the others see you now. Then she started changing you. The Coral in your augments connected with the Coral in her systems, and something changed in both of you. At first, it was just a whisper. Something brushing over your psyche, speaking just on the edge of hearing, incomprehensible but unmistakable.

Then your body started following suit. Your teeth, jaw, and digestive tract were the first things to change, presumably to allow you to consume and digest - you're not even sure if that's the correct term - the materials your girl needed to keep changing you. After your first meal, the tastiest 20 pounds of scrap you've ever eaten, your skin started changing too. The docs couldn't give you injections anymore. Their needles bent or broke when they tried to push them into your skin. You figured out why a few weeks later when what was left of your epidermis sloughed off and revealed armored plating underneath. They had to take an angle grinder to your arm in order to access your veins. You didn't feel any pain when they did. At the time, you thought that should have disturbed you a lot more than it did.

By that point, you'd been noticing Wolfrun's thoughts coming in a little clearer. In transit to your jobs, it was feelings of curiosity, probing, and wonder. In combat, it was a spark in your vision when you needed to dodge, a wordless warning about approaching enemies. In the base... still nothing but a whisper. That's when you started feeling lonely: when you couldn't feel her presence anymore.

As you became more and more monstrous, more and more like her, you began to visit her night after night. Maybe it was because you sensed an intelligence within her 65 ton body, or maybe it was simply because being near her drowned out the silence. You had no way of verifying this, but you felt like she relaxed as well when you were around. She was shut down in the hangar, of course, and there was no way any part of her could still be engaged, or so you thought. But as time went on, the whispers got louder, the words - feelings and thoughts, really - more comprehensible. And all the while, your body changed.

The 5'6" chubby trans gal who went into debt and subsequently under the knife to get a hand-me-down set of 4th gen augments all those years ago is long gone now. The thing you've become, whose claws clanged against the metal of the hangar's floor, had long since cast off that form. Where once was skin had become plated metal. Despite having no screws or rivets to speak of, it stayed firmly in place no matter how much the techs tried to pry it off. The augments which before had stuck partially out of the left side of your skull had seamlessly integrated themselves into the sleek plating that had cropped up on your head, looking far more natural than they ever had before. Your hair had fallen away, and the metal around your skull became angled and sleek, looking more bulwark than biological and with aerodynamic fins sprouting from it.

A sleek black plate had formed where your eyes once were. The day you woke up with that, you thought you had gone blind. You panicked, begging for help, afraid they wouldn't ever let you pilot her again. You had been moved into your new warehouse home at that point, and it took time for the maintenance techs to find you. Before they did, though, you felt someone - your girl, you realized - beckoning to you. She could help you. When the techs finally got there, you begged them to put you in her cockpit. It took them a while to figure out who you meant by "her", but your handler, who had come running the moment she heard the news, was on top of it. She barked at them to get you to Wolfrun, and with great difficulty, the three of them helped you get your then-8 foot form into her. You spent the next week inside her cockpit, refusing to get out except to eat and drink. She was there with you, and she let you see through her eyes. The world as she saw it was far more vivid than human eyes could ever see, infrared, ultraviolet, gamma, magnetic, smells, sounds, vibrations, on top of the visual spectrum you were used to. And when the delicate sensor plate where your eyes once were finally engaged at the end of that week, that's how you saw the world, too.

When you finally left her cockpit, you realized you could still hear her. From then on, she was with you always. That made you happy. It made her happy, too. You started letting her choose her own parts, and she was happy to. She still insisted you choose some too, though, since according to her, it was your body just as much as it was hers. True enough, whatever force was altering your body changed you to match her. When you tried out digitigrade legs, you stumbled getting out of bed the next morning after yours had reconfigured themselves to match. When you got her bulky, high capacity arms, your arms - fully synthetic by then - had bulked up considerably.

Even cosmetic changes started to affect you. You painted menacing, sharp teeth onto her head over the sensor plate with mechanical precision, and you found your own mouth elongating and becoming more of a muzzle as a result. You'd have thought being so malleable would have unsettled you, but you found you were more excited about the possibilities instead. It felt more like becoming who you were meant to be. Besides, it made wolfing down your metal meals easier. You figure intention, either yours or hers, or both, affected how you changed, but no one else had any satisfactory explanation for any of this. You'd stopped caring long ago in any case.

What you and Wolfrun ended up settling on for her, after earning a mountain of COAM for you and your handler with your unbeatable, utterly synchronized performance, was a mid-lightweight build focused on tearing apart the battlefield as quickly as possible with heavy machinery. What you became in response was anything but lightweight, at least compared to the humans around you. The finned bulwark and the black sensor on your head never really changed, but the rest of you seemed plenty mutable. Your arms grew long and powerful, your shoulders tipped with decorative spires. Your waist grew slender, tapering inorganically in nested panels to allow for plenty of articulation. Your torso got wider, too, though for whatever reason, the outline of breasts remained constant on your new chassis. You kept the digitigrade legs. Over time, hydraulic supports seemed to have formed on yours. The snout stayed, too. You were too proud of that paint job to ever take it off even with the changes to your own body. BECAUSE of the changes. You might be more machine than woman at this point, by you're still you, pride and all.

The techs estimate that only about 5% of your body is still organic. Probably most of your brain and maybe some other systems, plus a few symmetrical patches of skin. They suspect that you had either some kind of sympathetic Coral connection to your AC that rearranged your augments and allowed the changes to start, or that somehow repair nanites adapted to your form and began "fixing" you. In any case, they think the bulk of your changes are done with at this point. You're a little disappointed by that. Wolfrun likes the new you, though. She's happy for your connection and to be able to get even closer to you. Your handler appreciates your new form just as much. She doesn't even bat an eyelid when you tell her that you've been talking to Wolfrun. If anything, she seems a little sad that she can't talk to her directly. As for your relationship with your handler, you might be nearly twice her height, standing at a hulking 10 feet tall, but that doesn't stop her from loving you, or from jamming her fingers lovingly between your legs after missions.

But she's sleeping now. It's late, but you're still lonely. There's only one entity up at this time of night you'd care to talk to, so you climb the catwalks to meet her, claws clanging against the metal of the hangar. You smile your toothy, metal smile as she greets you, opening her cockpit so you can crawl inside and be one with her for a few more hours before your next mission.

#this one's probably too long to get attention #but it felt so good to write #armored core 6 #ac6 #mechaposting #mechposting #transhumanism #transformation #handler x pilot x AC

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lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom · 6 months

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Hello love, I had a thought after the new episode about Crosshair x reader where she’s been with Hunter and wrecker trying to find Omega (and him) and when crosshair steps out of the ship she just runs to him <3 maybe it also includes them talking on the marauder after about what’s happened. I hope this sparks interest for you!! I love your writing :)

Forgiven

Crosshair x Reader

Summary- You reminisce on the first time Crosshair fought against you and his brothers. He thought you'd never forgive him, but he is surprised when you reunite.

A/N- So sorry this one took so long! I'm still sick but was determined to get this out! Thank you for requesting!! I hope you like it, please let me know if there is anything I can do to improve.

Word Count- 2,276

You remember the first time you realized you lost Crosshair to the Empire. The memory plagued your sleepless nights...

"I know what you're going to do, but please- don't." Omega begged Crosshair. You turned to listen to them, but couldn't figure out what she was talking about. What was he going to do? And how did Omega know about it?

"What do you know?" He remarked.

"I know you can't help it..." She rested a hand to his shoulder. The act warmed your heart, but anxiety rested in the deep pit of your stomach.

You couldn't place exactly why. I mean, you were all imprisoned. But, really, it was nothing the squad hadn't been in before. This was the kind of anxiety that rushed your veins. The kind that appears out of no where and strikes you.

At this feeling, you stood up to move and sit on Crosshairs right. He wasn't very affectionate in public, but you knew the proximity would ease your nerves.

Your hand gently ran down his arm as you sat, he straightened up at your touch. He was on edge as well.

The small gesture of him spreading his right leg slightly wider, to touch you, made you smile. Even in a cell, he could make you feel at home.

He didn't turn to look at you, but took your hand in his, holding it in his lap.

Just seconds later, a masked group of clones arrived.

"CT-9904, you're coming with us."

"Excuse me?" You stood, Hunter was quicker than you though.

"Oh no no, no. We stay together." The clone immediately rammed the butt of his gun into Hunter's stomach. He doubled over in pain.

"Stand down!" The clone yelled. You still advanced, determined to stick together.

A hand grabbed at your wrist. It was Crosshair, still looking down.

"Stop, you'll just get into more trouble." He then looked up at you. He stood, still holding onto you. Your breath hitched, scared for him. What would the Empire do to him?

"Wait!" You called out, he turned around just before stepping out of the cell.

You leaned up and gave him a quick kiss on the lips, somewhat of a 'goodbye.' You could see his face get visibly softer. You pulled him closer for a hug, your face in his neck. "Whatever happens, try to meet us at the Hangar..." You whispered. Only he heard.

He nodded his head at you, then turned to follow the clone. The jail wall went back up.

You watched him walk away, the clones right behind him. "He'll be okay. We'll find a way out." Hunter reassured, a hand on your shoulder.

He was right. You all did find a way out. In an attempt to retrieve everyone's armor, you all rushed to the Hangar. Just before putting your last arm piece on, you stopped. "Where's Crosshair! He should be back by now!" You had hoped he found a way to escape the clones that took him. Looking around again didn't help.

"Tech, power up the ship. The rest of us will go look for Crosshair." Hunter commanded.

No one had a chance to respond, the large doors of the cabin opened to reveal him. He was leading a large squad of troopers.

"Uhh, I don't think we'll have to go far..." Omega spoke.

Your breath hitched, but you weren't scared. Crosshair would never do anything to hurt you. Nor his brothers, right?

"Cross!" You went to meet him, you didn't care about the other clone troopers next to him.

However, Hunter blocked you with his body. You stopped, wary but trusting his extreme senses.

"Best stand down sergeant." Crosshair said, rifle at the ready. "Make it easy on yourself... And your team." He looked you in the eyes, then back to Hunter.

"Have you lost your mind!" Hunter interrogated.

The two of them argued back and forth, though neither side made an official attack.

You were so confused, why would Crosshair turn on everyone. Why would he turn on you? Tears prickled, you placed your helmet on so no one could see.

"Now surrender." Crosshair tried, deep down you didn't think he wanted to injure anyone.

Blast fired everywhere.

Omega covered her head- barred down. You rushed to her, giving her cover. Hunter joined your side, now he was guiding Omega back to the ship.

You, Wrecker, and Echo fought hard, which gave Hunter enough time to usher Omega safely to the ship.

Hunter barely had time to run back out, guns firing, when all the overhead lights went off. The storm outside did nothing to help the lighting.

You crouched down to collect your thoughts, looking through your visor you saw many heat signatures. It was hard to tell who was who, but identified Wrecker by his size and Echo by his arm.

You blasted at the on-coming troopers, distracted by a new wave of them coming in. Someone had called for backup.

A loud scream let you know Wrecker had been shot, you weren't close enough to help him. A glance back showed you Echo and Hunter pulling him to safety.

The second you turned back around the barrel of a gun was pointed at your head. A figure sat inches in front of you, also crouched down.

"Don't say a word." It was Crosshair...

You pushed your helmet off, suddenly desperate for some air. You stared at him with glossy eyes. He wouldn't really shoot you, would he?

"Follow them back to The Marauder. Do not tell a soul I let you." He commanded you, lowering his gun. Was he telling you to escape now?

"Cross, I don't-"

"It's not safe here. You have to run."

"Bu-"

"It is too late for me, but you need to go. Now." When you didn't get up, he raised his rifle at you.

"Go!"

You nodded, shoving your helmet over your head. You wasted no more time as you ran to the ship. Tech closed the ramp and door behind you.

The ship roared off, jumping into hyperspace immediately.

You were left dazed, confused, and heartbroken. How could you lose him so fast?

It had been a long time since you all had to run. Not a day, or night, went by that you didn't think about Crosshair. No matter what he thought about you- he was always going to be your true love.

You could only hope he still felt the same deep down.

While you secretly prayed that you'd run into him again, all your prayers were soon taken up. They shifted to be about Omegas safety, ever since she was physically taken from your arms on Ord Mantell.

They didn't stop until you, Hunter, and Wrecker received a coded message. It contained an abandoned planet's coordinates, sent by 'Lula.' You knew it was Omega, no one else knew about Wreckers (turned Omegas) stuffed doll.

Hunter couldn't fly the ship fast enough, you three soon arrived at the location.

At the sound of another ship landing, Wrecker went to see who it was. Just in case it was some kind of ambush.

Seconds later, you both heard giggles from Omega and laughter from Wrecker.

Hunter looked down at the floor, ashamed.

"Hunter, so see her." You said, resting a friendly hand on his knee.

He was silent for a moment, gaze still down. "What, what if she is ma-"

"Omega loves you, she's not mad at you for anything. Please go see your daughter." You smiled at your own words, and the fact that his face turned red.

He rose and walked out to see her. You followed behind, hugging Omega after she and Hunter had their moment.

"How... how did you escape?" Hunter asked, addressing the elephant in the room.

"I had help." Your smile dimmed, watching the empire ship door closely. A figure walked down, the second you copped a good look- you were running.

A gasp barely had time to leave your mouth, your feet hit the ground in quick strides. You didn't stop until you were met with his body.

He stumbled back, but caught you. Your arms immediately wrapped tightly around him. Like he was going to fade away.

You let out a single sob when his hand lifted to caress your hair, then back. "Cross..."

He didn't say a word, he just squeezed you tight. It told you all you needed to know.

In that moment you forgot all that he did. Heck, you didn't care about any of it. He was here, alive, safe, and not trying to attack anyone.

"I'm sorry.... I'm so, so sorry." He repeated himself, mumbling apologies over and over.

You pulled away, forcing his forehead down to touch yours. "Shut up." You silenced him with a kiss, your eyes closed.

It was an awkward few hours on The Marauder. Wrecker and Hunter were still wary on Crosshair. Truth be told, they had a right to be. Omega defended him when she could, but everyone needed to accept the change on their own time.

That Crosshair's days with the Empire was now in the past.

Omega soon fell asleep on Hunter, you could tell she needed a good nights sleep. One where she wasn't constantly looking over her shoulder, or scared someone would come in her sleeping quarters.

As Hunter put her to bed, Wrecker found himself on the verge of sleep too. He headed to one of the two cots hidden in the back.

"Hunter, go to bed." You gently suggested.

"You sure you'll be okay?" He eyed Crosshair, still not trusting.

"I'm a big girl Hunter. Plus, I don't think Cross would be dumb enough to go against all of us with no weapons." You tried to joke, but the tension was so thick you could cut it. Both men raised an eyebrow at you.

You sighed, "Go to bed. I'm fine, really." He nodded and headed off. That left you and Crosshair alone in the cockpit.

It was quiet for a minute, both of you were scared to speak first. It was all so... real, so serious all of a sudden.

"How bad was it?" You asked, turned away from him on purpose.

"Worse than you can imagine." He didn't mean to, but he broke your heart at his words.

You turned to face him, quickly taking note of how his hand shook. You looked from his hand to his face, he tried to hide it.

"Uhm, I guess i'll take the first watch if you want to get some rest." You were so uncomfortable. There was an unspoken thought dancing around the room. While you wanted to kiss and hold him, there was a weird air that surrounded you both. It made you question every move, like it was your first date all over again.

"Right..." Was all he could muster. He was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

He bit this fear back with his next words. "I wish, I wish I could go back. Do things... differently."

"I know. Me too." You tried to meet his gaze, but he stared at the wall.

You were tired of this. What happened to the two of you?

"Crosshair."

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong."

He stared.

"Cross, if you don't love me anymore just tell me. Don't beat around the bush."

This made him snap his head at you. "What? You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Really? Because after I kissed you, you haven't touched me! We used to tell each other everything, now we can't hold simple conversation! I Know a lot happened, I am so sorry you went through what you did. It shatters me just thinking about you getting hurt... but please, talk to me." You pleaded.

He grunted and sat up straight. "You deserve someone better! That's why. Because you shouldn't want to be with someone who turned on his brothers. Who abandoned his team. Who tried to kill the person he loved most. Maybe I should stop beating around the bush, you'll realize what I really am. Disposable."

You blinked up at him, heart beating fast. You didn't know what to say.

Crosshair 'humphed' and slouched back in his chair.

You rose to your feet, standing in front of him. You took his shaking hand in yours. "The man I love came back. He saved Omega. I know deep down you are the same Crosshair I fell in love with. The man that, even when controlled by an inhibitor chip, managed to let me run free. You could have killed me, that's what the chip told you to do... but, you didn't. Crosshair, I won't- I can't blame you for doing anything under the control of your chip."

"I did awful things after that chip was taken out..." He still thought he was unworthy, trying to make you agree.

"You can't push me away. You can't push away the people who love you." You still held his shaking hand in yours, raising your other to rest on his cheek.

"I forgive you... I truly do. I know it will be a long time until you forgive yourself, but I will be right here when you do. The guys will come around, just wait. I promise everything will be okay."

He closed his eyes, leaning into your palm. You moved down, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. At his, he rested his hands on your hips and pulled you to his lap.

You curled yourself up, finally feeling that warm comfort you always felt in him.

You kiss him again, slowly this time.

"I'll do better..." He croaked.

"I know you will."

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I have fr been sick for a whole week, like give me a break, body! When I am feeling 100% I will come back and fix any grammatical errors. Thank you for your patience and understanding!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @knight-of-flowerss

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garbinge · 1 month

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THE DATE (3/?)

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x F!Reader // Word Count: 3k Summary: Rooster takes you out on that date he asked you on. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Fluff. Light Angst. Drinking. No use of Y/N. Talks of parental death. A/N: You've heard of slow burn? Well this entire story is the opposite of that. LOL.

You heard the car as it pulled down your street from the front steps of your family’s house. Lifting your head up from your phone, you saw the roofless bronco pull into your driveway. Rooster was out of the driver’s seat within seconds, making his way around the car when suddenly he lifted his sunglasses as he saw you sitting by the front door. With a small chuckle to himself, he leaned against the passenger side of the car.

“You know part of a date is getting you at the door!”

You looked around, sarcastically of course, with the added dramatics of lifting your hands up in confusion. “I don’t see the problem. I’m at the door, you can still come get me.”

He smirked at that, pushing off the car and making his way over to you, extending his hand out to help you up and then walking you over to the passenger side of the bronco where he opened the door for you.

“Forgot how chivalrous military men can be.” You were teasing him but appreciated his efforts.

“You know, you’re baiting me.” He called out as he walked back around the car. Jumping into the driver’s seat now, he plopped his sunglasses back over his face before looking back over at you. “I know better than to ask if you’ve dated other guys in the service on a first date.”

“Is this our first date?” You squinted, really thinking it through and he just stood there looking at you for a moment searching for the same answer.

“Is it?” He asked, wondering what your opinion on the matter was.

“Well, technically speaking, it could be. But on the other hand, you’ve already slept with me, and I don’t sleep with people on first dates.”

“So then this would technically be our third date.” He thought through what you said and did some rough guessing on how you’d likely count your interactions as dates.

“And the third date is when you start to ask questions like that.” You were turning to put your seatbelt on, waiting for him to ask you the question but instead he just reversed out of the driveway. “You’re not going to ask me?”

“I know you haven’t dated a service member.” His hands were on the wheel now as he drove back down your street towards the main road.

“How do you know that?” Your face was puzzled.

“If you dated a military guy, you wouldn’t have the rule not to sleep with them on the first date.”

“And why is that?”

“You don’t know the stereotype? Your first date isn’t just your first date, it’s your engagement, your marriage, your anniversary all in one. Military members move fast.”

“You taking me to our wedding, Rooster?”

“No, but don’t worry we’ll be moving fast enough.”

He wasn’t wrong. You were now standing in the hangar staring at the plane he planned to take you up in.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of heights.” Rooster looked nervous.

“Not scared of heights.” You started to look around at the plane.

“You been for a ride before?” He was trying to find the answer to the unknown look on your face.

“No, my dad never took me.” Your eyes looked over at the entire hangar, the lockers, the desks, the parts storage. “And Mickey was too fresh to even think about being a backseater.”

“We can do something else if you want.” His voice was littered with emotion, nerves, stress, upset.

“No, no.” You cut him off practically. “This is good.” You nodded and walked back around to him so you were looking up at him nearly a couple inches from him. “Just tell me what to do.”

As you stepped into the pit of the plane, you saw a bouquet of sunflowers plopped in your seat.

“Didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”

You grabbed the bouquet and looked it over before looking over at Rooster who was still on the ground with a smile.

“Toss ‘em down, you’ll get ‘em on our way back.” He lifted his hands to catch the flowers and place them to the side before following you up in the plane.

He stood in the front seat, leaning over to yours where he was tightening your seatbelt harness and then starting to go through the system. Talking you through the buttons, what they each did, what he’ll say to you when he wants you to press a certain one, and then finally talking you through the safety features. Placing his own headset on first, he made any needed adjustments before bending down and fixing yours over your ears. His eyes were locked on yours when he moved the microphone to sit properly in front of your mouth.

“Do you trust me?”

You heard it through your headset and gave him a short nod as you stared at his face.

“I need you to say it through your mic.” His hand touched the microphone and you spoke into it with affirmation.

“Good. Your mic works and you trust me. I’d say our first date is off to a good start.” His mouth lifted into a smile.

“And if you’re lucky maybe it’ll end with you taking me to the chapel.” It was a joke, one that earned a pretty good laugh out of the man who was about to take flight with you.

“If you get nervous, just tell me and we’ll come back down, alright?”

You nodded and then quickly spoke up knowing that you’d have to give verbal confirmations to him in the air. “Alright.”

As you coasted in the air, it was hard to even comprehend what was happening, you felt your emotions in your gut, but the excitement in your chest as you flew over the mountains and desert.

“You doin’ alright?” His muffled voice filled your ears.

“More than.” Your voice sounded amazed as you looked around at the scenic views.

“You’ll be able to see the ocean shortly.” He said pointing to his right which made you turn your head over to follow his point.

“Holy shit.”

That made Rooster smile, you couldn’t see it, but he was grinning from ear to ear at your reaction. As you glided across the coast, he let you take it all in allowing silence to fill the craft for a while. Only occasionally breaking that to give you the heads up of when to look at things through the glass and teaching you certain buttons and how to read the navigation system. As you took in the trees over your current location, he spoke up asking you something a little more personal.

“What was going on in your head when we were at the hangar?”

That got your attention and you thought it over for a couple seconds. “I used to spend Sundays sitting inside a hangar reading while my brothers helped my dad fix up his planes. Well–Mickey. Griffin, my younger brother, he would just play with the dogs.” A chuckle could be heard over the mic.

“Why Sundays?” His hands were on the handles as he started to change your course of direction.

Another chuckle could be heard from you before answering. “He was giving my mom a day free of noise.”

Rooster matched your laugh with his own. “You tell your brother I was taking you on a date?”

“No. But if we hit that chapel I’ll give him a call.” You teased.

Bradley couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. As he looped around, flying back over the coast again he chatted to you over the mic. “You ready to head back down?”

“One more lap around?” You hoped he’d agree and that’s when you heard the smile in his voice as he spoke to you.

“My pleasure.”

________

“You take all your dates in the sky?” Sipping the glass of wine you looked over the top of it at him.

“Not one.” His answer was quick, him sipping on his own drink. The noise from inside the bar was loud but muffled as you two sat on the picnic table outside.

You frowned, a little surprised to hear that. “So I’m special.”

“I’m just hoping to make it into this book of yours.” He was popping a peanut into his mouth. You already ate dinner, two greasy fast food burgers parked on one of the coast overlooks paired with sodas and fries.

You leaned over and grabbed a peanut from the bowl yourself and popped it into you mouth too. “This book that still has no concept.”

“Mm, I’ve been thinking about that actually.” He eagerly swallowed his beer so he could speak.

“Oh have you?”

“I think you should write about yourself.” He spoke it so obviously, like the answer had been there the whole time.

“Funny, I’ve been spending the last few days convincing myself to do exactly not that.” You took a large sip from your glass, clearly feeling the affliction of the idea.

“Why would you do that?” He asked you, his face twisted in puzzlement.

Blowing air out of your nose you looked down at the table, not able to make eye contact with him as the reasons filtered through your mind. “There’s just a lot to…” You were looking for the right word, “unpack.”

He nodded as you said it but then shook his head. “Wait–convincing yourself, so you had the idea already?” He squinted his eyes and then pointed at you. “And you knew it was a good one.”

“It was an idea, not a good one.”

“I think it’s a great one.”

Your eyes moved up to his, speaking the question for you.

“You just spent all this time writing other people’s stories. It’s time to write your own.” It was pretty quickly that he realized you were not on board for this conversation, by the way you were chugging your drink, not making eye contact with him, getting more on edge. “All I’m saying is you should consider it.” Rooster was standing up now. “You want another glass of wine?” He asked the question so genuinely it made a laugh escape from your mouth.

“I’ll take a beer. I was only drinking the wine cause we’re on a date.”

His face twisted up again, this time searching yours for more clarity on your words. “Another one of your rules?”

“It’s classy.” You shrugged without really having any real explanation for it.

Bradley was leaning over the table for your empty glass when he paused and looked at you holding back a laugh. “We had fast food for dinner in the front seat of my car.” His sentence was evident, like what you had said held no real legs because of what you ate for dinner. Classy wasn’t what he was going for and wasn’t what he wanted you to go for either.

“To be fair, you took me for a ride in a plane. That’s pretty fancy.” You were still trying to convince him you were right, if you could even call it being right. In this situation, maybe you were just trying not to look silly.

Rooster laughed with a head shake, and grabbed the empties before walking around the table to get back in the bar for refills. “I’ll be right back.”

Your eyes moved to the water, watching the waves crash against the land and then pull back out to sea. It was very much a metaphor to what you were going through, how the waves would crash hard with force, similarly to how certain areas of your life felt. Other times, they’d be calm and easy to handle. But either way, it was always beautiful to watch. Even when the forceful waves were matched with dark clouds and winds, it was still beautiful. Just like your story.

You felt a shadow behind you and started to speak, “I was thinking about what you said.” As your body turned you were met with your brother, a smile on his face which also had a hint of wonder on it as well.

“What did I say?” He was leaning down to give you a hug in greeting.

“Oh, um,” You tried to think quickly on what to say and do in this situation, only having seconds–minutes if you were lucky to come up with something. “About our lives being unique.” You thought back to your conversation with your brother the other night.

“Pretty sure you said that and I agreed.” He was standing in front of you now as you sat on the picnic table bench still. “What’re you doing here?”

“I was going to tell you, I just there’s not really much to tell yet–I was–we’re still–it’s still being figured out.” Rambling, you were rambling now, a common response you had to not knowing what to say or do.

“Penny had this beer that supposedly tastes like wine, so I got you that so you can still feel like you’re on a fancy date.” Bradley was staring at the two glasses that were filled to the brim in his hands, walking carefully so he didn’t spill them, fully unaware that Fanboy was at the head of the table, until he looked up.

Shit. Luckily he thought it instead of saying it outloud. “Fanboy.” He nodded in greeting, taking a quick turn so he was to your right placing down the beer and whispering in your ear. “Sorry.”

Mickey’s face was taking in everything, showing different emotions while simultaneously showing none at all if it was possible. “You two are on a date?” He spoke that last word at an inflection that was meant to be extra sure he said it correctly as well as you hearing it correctly, and you also knew he asked it in a way like he was trying to believe it.

“Yea, do you want to talk–privately?” Starting to move from out of the picnic table, Mickey stopped you with his words.

“No, no need. I’ll leave you two to uh–” His eyes looked down at the ground as he searched for the right words, he didn’t want to say date again, you could tell that much. This was the thing with Mickey. He didn’t care. He cared. But didn’t fit in the typical elder brother stereotype. He was well aware you could take care of yourself, if you needed anything he’d be there in a heartbeat for you, but he didn’t poke where he didn’t belong. Which is what made this whole situation awkward. He felt like he poked where he didn’t belong. And you felt like you were hiding things from him. Which you never did. You didn’t tell him everything, but that felt easy when you were traveling around the world. This was different. This was his world. “I’ll leave you two be, have a good night.” He nodded his head once at both of you, his eyes jumped to you and smiled. “Call me if you need anything.” His way of trying to let you know he wasn’t mad at you. It was then that his eyes jumped to Bradshaw’s, who was now sitting next to you. “Rooster.” His face still had the smallest curve, not as much as the smile he gave you, but one that was still pretty visible.

“Fanboy.” It was said exactly how he spoke it when he greeted him.

As your brother entered the bar, you closed your eyes and turned your head towards Rooster and opened them reluctantly saying a whole lot of nothing with your silence.

His face was just as serious as yours as he said his next words, which is what made them so funny. “Guess we can head to that chapel now.” It was the joke that broke the tension and you let out a bellowing laugh, leaning your head into his chest, his arm raising as he laughed with you to bring you closer, resting it on your back and then on the back of your head all while he let out his laughs.

“Give me this.” Moving to grab the beer he got you, you took one large sip and looked at him with a sour look.

He tried hard to hide his smile, holding in his laugh. “No good?”

“Bad. Very bad.” It was spoken through a cough after you regretfully swallowed the beer and again, both of you broke into a fit. Little did you know, you were being watched. By a couple people. Inside your brother was smiling to himself, seeing you happy was enough to make any reservation he had about the situation take a backseat for at least now. And the other set of eyes on you were Hangman’s as he approached the building.

“Love birds.” He called out as he stopped on the sidewalk that led up to the front door.

Rooster raised his glass to him in a cheers. “Asshole.”

He took the comment in stride, laughing while he headed inside. While Rooster was distracted with that you went to grab his beer from his hand to take a sip out of it, anything to get the taste of what he brought back to you out of your mouth. “Well I guess you’re not lying to Hangman anymore.” You spoke it through a gulp and your face still a bit turned around.

“What do you mean?” He went to grab your glass and sniff it. He wasn’t going to try it, but the smell was enough to make him realize it was pretty bad.

“That I’m your girlfriend.” You shrugged, placing the glass to your mouth again, this time just enjoying the drink.

His nostrils flared as he looked at you with humor and happiness before his eyebrow tweaked slightly in preparation to joke with you.

“Girlfriend? I thought we were headed to the chapel tonight?”

Dividers by: @realitycanbewhateveridesire :) 🛫Top Gun Maverick Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @writing-until-i-drop @jtheteenagewitch (let me know if you’d like to be added!) CHAPTER INDEX <- where you can find previous chapters to this fic!

#top gun #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x y/n #rooster fanfiction #rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #Bradley Rooster Bradshaw Fanfiction #Top Gun Maverick Fanfiction #Garbinge #My Writing #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradsaw x reader #mickey fanboy garcia

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syndullqs · 5 months

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𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 — 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒅𝒚

summary — your past has made you a hardened general. commander cody intends to break you.

warnings — gn!jedi!reader, mentions of a traumatic past, cody being annoying

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊. the men in that hangar were expecting a visitor, and a notorious one at that.

“you’re acting like you’re meeting the chancellor,” general obi-wan kenobi poked fun at his commander, who was standing at attention next to him.

“can’t be too prepared, sir,” cody responded as a ship landed in the hangar of the Negotiator. obi-wan only laughed as he watched the ramp pull down, revealing none other than you, jedi general y/n l/n. you had a reputation for being emotionless, which obviously wasn’t the case. no one ever seemed to get an extreme reaction out of you, ever. you seemed cold, and they were right to assume that. being the competitive spirit commander cody was, he wanted to change that.

“general kenobi,” you offered a small smile as you approached him, shaking his outstretched hand.

“general l/n,” he greeted, “this is commander cody,” obi-wan introduced. cody stood at attention, but dipped his head towards you.

“sir,”

“it’s a pleasure,” you dipped your head in response. oh, it definitely would be.

the campaign on alderaan was successful. the separatist forces were driven out and once again, the republic could go home with a victory. which also meant commander cody could do more of his, well, job.

cody, any chance he could get, would make comments that would make anyone flush. you, however, never budged. you offered him a small smile, and a shake of your head before moving on. challenge accepted.

“general!” cody called from behind you. now, you weren’t blind to the commander’s plan. you knew of the reputation you held, and it wasn’t by choice. the strings of your past were still attached to you, making you a hardened person. he was determined, for whatever reason, to break you.

maybe a part of you liked how difficult you made it for him.

“what can i do for you commander?” you stopped in your tracks and turned to face the commander. he was attractive, the way he seemed to glow with that boyish look. yet, your face remained neutral, your eyes meeting cody’s.

“general kenobi has some reports for you to sign off on,” he explained, handing you a datapad.

“and you couldn’t comm me? or general kenobi himself?” you posed, raising an eyebrow as you took the datapad, signing it anyway.

“what, i can’t spend time with you, mesh’la?” he asked, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. you knew what he called you; you were well aware of the terms of endearment used by clones. your own men used them quite often.

“as much as i find the nickname flattering, commander, i know you have other, more important, things to be doing,” you told him, offering him a softened expression. cody huffed, his chest filling with pride as he viewed your softened expression. finally, some leeway.

“oh, well of course, sir. i just wanted to run that by you,” he meant several things with his smug expression, and he also knew you’d get every one. he leaned in just enough, daring to enter more of your personal space.

“if you need me, i’ll be in the hangar, sir,” he gently tipped your chin with a coiled pointer finger before stalking off. his move was bold, especially given how you two barely knew each other. your stomach fluttered at his touch, even if it was fleeting. shivers crawled down your spine, and not ones in warning. your expression hardened, but your eyes told a different story. your heart melted a little, and you felt the lingering affects of cody’s finger.

“noted,” you spoke, and cody heard you. he smirked as he stalked off, pride filling his chest. he wasn’t going to lie, though. you weren’t the only one that felt the spark at the touch. cody felt it in the pit of his stomach, and it terrified him.

lol look at me pumping out fics HAHA. this will probably be a multi-parter, but idk either. if y’all like it enough i’ll add more parts. anyways, i graduate college here soon and the way i’m SO excited, but it also means a little more free time for me until i start my big-girl job haha. anyways, hopefully you enjoyed some cody!

#star wars #star wars imagines #star wars imagine #star wars the clone wars #commander cody x reader #commander cody #commander cody imagine

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thrawns-babygirl · 9 months

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Stake Out #2 (Thrawn x AFAB!GN Reader)

BACK FROM THE DEAD! I HAVE RETURNED WITH THRAWN SMUT

Actually kinda in love with this fic and probably going to write another part soon. The lack of Ascendancy era!Thrawn fics makes me wanna scream. But you know what they say, be the change you wanna see in the world.

(Reader has afab anatomy but is not gendered in any way)

Rating: E (18+) Warnings: Oral (F&M receiving), precum, deepthroating Word Count: 3700+

Masterlist

It’s been months since your encounter with the Chiss known as mid captain Mitth’raw’nuruodo. So long in fact that you thought maybe the two of you had been found out and perhaps you’d been blacklisted, forever cursed to never work with Senior Captain Ziara and the crew of the Parala ever again.

So, when you receive a new commission from your superior, informing you that the Parala was enroute towards the station and that you were to be ready within the hour, you were ecstatic. Packing a bag for what you assumed was probably going to be another long-haul mission, your thoughts drift back towards the stoic Chiss, the way he felt inside of you, the sound of his moans and you feel your face heat. Your excitement now replaced by a gnawing anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

Would he want a repeat performance? Did he still think about you the same way that you did him? It was hard to tell. The man was difficult to read when he was in the same room as you, let alone when the two of you hadn’t even inhabited the same star system in months.

Steeling your nerves, you sling your pack over your shoulder and make your way towards the hangar that the Parala was due to arrive at. Your questions would all be answered soon you suppose.

As always, the Chiss were as prompt and no nonsense as ever. The uniformed warriors greeting you at the ramp and leading you up into the bowels of the ship without as much as a glance in your direction.

You fiddle nervously with the strap of your pack, looking around the halls, trying to get a glimpse of one specific man amidst a sea of blue. You’d all but given up hope when a deep voice sounds from behind you.

“Pathfinder, it is good to see that you are well” the accented Minnisiat causes you to spin on your heel, face to face with the man who has plagued your thoughts each night you lay alone in your bunk since your last meeting.

“You as well mid captain” You give him a polite but genuine smile as you lock eyes with him. His lips quirk in a hint of a smile as he nods.

“We will be sent out in a small shuttle, our mission will primarily consist of reconnaissance and information gathering. Once you are ready, we can proceed to the shuttle” He turns and begins walking down the corridor and it takes a moment for you to realise that you’re meant to be following him.

Speeding up slightly to keep pace with his long strides, you take a deep breath. You can do this, you don’t need to make it awkward, he obviously is still willing to work with you, this is a good sign.

The two of you make your way to the shuttle in comfortable silence, and before you know it, you’re once again strapped into the navigator’s chair, sensory depravation helmet fastened securely over your head as you let yourself fall into the familiar trance.

Weaving your way through the chaos is second nature, the feeling of being one with the galaxy is comfortable, it makes you feel at ease, secure.

Before you know it, you are exiting your trance, your head feeling slightly groggy, your ears ringing, and a familiar feeling of disorientation wracks your form as you remove your helmet. Blinking a rapidly to clear the stars from your vision, you notice Thrawn standing right next to your chair what you can only assume is a vitamin beverage held in one hand.

“I have heard that navigating the chaos can be taxing on one’s body, please, take this” he extends the drink to you, and you feel yourself flush. No one is ever this kind to navigators; at most you are considered disposable and at worst you’re considered nothing more than an organic nav computer. This simple act of kindness is so out of the ordinary that it nearly makes you swoon.

“Thank you” you smile up at him as you take the drink with slightly trembling hands, the coolness of the metal container soothing you. It was a particularly long jump, longer than you’ve had to perform in a few cycles, and as you look down towards the nav computer and furrow your brow as you realise that you are in fact, in the middle of nowhere, barely any celestial bodies even registering on the scanners.

“You understand of course that I am not at liberty to divulge our current mission” He chimes in, as if sensing your confusion as to your current location. “and I must apologise in advance, but I do believe that we will be here a while.”

You take a sip of your drink and nod, feeling your strength returning as the cool liquid makes its way down your throat.

Here comes the awkward part, you think to yourself fighting a grimace. How do you bring up your last mission together? How do you ask if he wants a repeat performance or if it was just a one-time thing? You sigh and lean back against the headrest of the chair.

You realise Thrawn is still stiffly standing next to you, a tension in his stance that is uncommon even for the usual rigid way he holds himself and it dawns on you that he is probably thinking the same thing. His eyes are on you, scrutinizing you, examining you and you really hope that he simply thinks that the flush on your cheeks is just due to a straining navigation session and not the unprofessional and improper thoughts swirling in your head.

You remember that your last time together was his first, you remember the way that he let you set the pace and dictate the encounter, perhaps he’s waiting for you to do so again? You steel your nerves, determined to push the words up and out of your chest and quell your maddening anxiety when suddenly an alert chimes from behind him.

A flicker of disappointment flashes across his face as he looks towards its source.

“I apologise, I must check in with my captain” he nods his head respectfully before making his way towards the back of the ship to converse with Senior Captain Ziara, leaving you to sip on your canteen of vitamin water as you listen to the back and forth of Cheunh behind you.

You sigh to yourself. This is going to be a long mission.

You must have fallen asleep at some point, you awaken to the sight of a bare, muscled chest, Thrawn’s arm on your shoulder as he shakes you awake. You wipe away the drool from your mouth as you sit up quickly in the chair, rubbing your eyes as you take in the sight before you.

Mid Captain Thrawn, wearing a loose pair of thin pants, no shirt, no shoes, his hair slightly mussed. You run your eyes shamelessly over his body before shaking your head slightly and looking up to meet his eyes that are glittering with an almost imperceivable amount of amusement, a smug smirk painting his statuesque face.

“I do apologise for waking you, I thought it would be wiser to rest on a bed, lest you injure your neck” his voice is soft, like honey or silk, slightly raspy, or maybe you were imagining that?

Your faculties are failing you in the face of this gorgeous man standing shirtless before you, has he always been so built? Has he bulked since you last saw each other?

“Yes, thank you… I didn’t realise how drained I was” you inwardly kick yourself for how meek your voice sounds, the slight waver in it. You literally took this man’s virginity the last time the two of you were together and now here you are, feeling like a blushing virgin being exposed to the male form for the very first time. Focus up, you inwardly scold yourself.

You take off your boots before standing up, stretching out your sore limbs, heaving a sigh at the relief of finally moving after so many hours in the same chair. Extending your hands over your head, you miss the way his eyes rove over your form with barely restrained lust as he runs his glowing gaze over your body, the way his lips part slightly and his nostrils flair.

Looking around the small cabin of the shuttle, you take stock of the area, your eyes landing on the single bedroll that Thrawn has laid out for the night. Your breath hitches, did he… want the two of you to share a bed? Was this his sort of an indirect invitation? Again, using his uncanny ability to sense the thoughts going through your head at any given time, he answers your unspoken question.

“Given our last excursion together, I assumed that you would be willing to share a bed with me. I do apologise if that was presumptuous of me” his tone is flat as per usual, but there is a faint not of… something in his voice, nervousness? Dare you say… excitement?

“I would be more than willing mid captain” You smile at him, the tension lines on his face disappear as he smiles back at you. A genuine smile, a crack in his usual stoic façade as he takes your hand and leads you over towards the modest yet highly inviting bedding that he has laid out on the floor.

“Please, Thrawn is fine. Given our last meeting I believe there is no need for formalities”

His stride is confident, as if your consent to sleeping with him has assuaged any fears or nervousness he may have had about the time you are about to spend together. You follow along behind him, not even bothering to hide the giddy energy that radiates off of you as he lies down on the bedding, gently pulling you down with him so that the two of you are lying down face to face, so close that you feel the heat of his breath with each exhale.

“I have been thinking of our time together since we have been separated” his voice is quiet and husky “I have been… researching ways to make our next meeting more enjoyable” his voice is a whisper.

“Researching?” you ask in a voice that’s just as low as his, as if speaking too loudly will shatter the carefully built moment the two of you are sharing.

A tinge of violet reaches his cheekbones and he hesitates, as if nervous his choice of words has revealed too much about how he’s spent his time since your last time together.

He clears his throat “Indeed… I have been referencing some material of a… certain nature in order to further understand the intricacies of intimacy. I have had few interactions with humans and do not wish to encounter and social or cultural taboos” he runs his fingers lightly along your arm as he speaks and you wish you’d had the forethought to remove your course jumpsuit before lying down with him.

But its then that the implication of his words actually hit you. ‘Referencing material’ ‘certain nature’ has Thrawn been… watching porn? Mid captain Mitth’raw’nuruodo has been watching pornography thinking about you? Your head spins, images of Thrawn on his bed, naked, one hand wrapped around his throbbing length as he strokes himself to whatever the Chiss consider pornography sends a jolt of electricity down your spine straight to your core and brings a flush to your cheeks.

“And… what did you learn?” your voice is barely above a whisper as you move your fingers to run along the chiselled planes of his chest.

“That humans partake in certain acts that are… different to Chiss” his hand moves to the zipper of your jumpsuit slowly tugging it down over your chest revealing your thin tank top. As soon as the zipper is down far enough, the pushes the jumpsuit away from your shoulders and you lift yourself up slightly so that he can remove it from the top half of your body, exposing your arms to the chill of the cabin.

“Like… what?” you continue lightly running your fingers along his abs, slowly travelling further south towards the waistband of his loose pants, toying with the hem as your breaths mingle in the air in front of you. You don’t fail to notice the very large and obvious bulge tenting the fabric, the look of it indicating that the mid captain has forgone briefs in this particular instance, and you salivate at the thought.

“The use of ones… mouth for instance” he tugs at the jumpsuit again, pulling the material further down your hips and you shift to allow him the ability to remove the thick fabric from you entirely, leaving you in only a thin tank top and embarrassingly damp panties.

“Chiss don’t perform… oral?” you ask as you tug his pants further down his hips, revealing his adonis belt before his thick cock springs free of its confines, engorged and leaking, a steady stream of precum leaking from the tip and dripping down those delicious alien ridges.

He shakes his head as he kicks his pants off, moving so that he’s holding himself above you, resting on his elbows as he looks down at you, and for two people who have only shared a very fleeting and physical connection the position feels so… sensual, intimate even.

Without waiting for any further invitation, his lips are on yours, his tongue in your mouth. This is a vastly more confident Thrawn than last time and you have to snuff out the slight spark of jealousy at the idea that he’s sought out other companions during your time apart. Instead of lingering on that intrusive thought, you run your nails down his back, deepening the kiss as he ruts his hips against you, dragging his length along the soaked fabric of your panties causing you to let out a soft moan into his mouth.

The two of you lose yourselves in the kiss, lips dancing and tongues mingling as your hands travel over each other’s bodies. Thrawn finally pulls away from your lips, face flushed and panting softly, before he begins kissing along your jaw and neck, sucking, licking and occasionally biting at the soft flesh as he moves himself down to your collarbone. He lavishes you with attention, his lips travelling along your body as he pulls your tank top up over your head, leaving your breasts exposed. Without hesitation, he latches his lips on your nipple, sucking on one while tweaking the other with his long fingers, occasionally alternating between the two, giving them equal attention.

At this point you’re an incoherent mess. Panting, moaning and writhing beneath his form as he lavishes you with attention, his lips not leaving a single spot on your torso unattended as he works his way lower and lower down your body. He’s breathing heavily as he begins licking a long stripe over the already soaked material of your panties and you let out a guttural moan that you’re too far gone to even be embarrassed about.

Spurred on by your response, Thrawn tugs enthusiastically at the flimsy material of your panties, tearing them off your body before moving your thighs over his shoulders to devour you. His tongue is a slightly different texture than what you’re used to, and the added stimulation ignites a fire in your lower belly as he ravenously eats you. He seems intent on not letting a single drop of you go to waste, his tongue alternating between long broad strokes along your slit, fucking in and out of your cunt and swirling around your clit with an accuracy that makes your vision swim and the coil in your belly wind tighter and tighter.

You move your hands into his hair, fingers tugging on the blue-black locks causing a guttural almost pornographic moan to rip from his chest as he redoubles his efforts, intent on dining on you like a man starved. He moves to focusing solely on your clit, his tongue licking and swirling along the bundle of nerves as he tentatively prods your entrance with a single finger and moans into your folds causing your back to arch off the bedding and your fingers to tighten in his hair.

He adds a second finger, curling them at just the right angle and you’re sent over the edge. Stars burst behind your eyes as your body is wracked by one of the most intense orgasms you have ever experienced, your thighs tighten around his head, and you scream in pleasure. His mouth and tongue still doing their sinful work, prolonging your bliss as you ride your high into overstimulation.

He keeps going until you tug on his hair to pull him away from you, the pleasure swiftly morphing into discomfort as his tongue runs along your oversensitive clit. He sits up on his knees between your legs, chin slick with your juices as he licks his lips before he dives in for another kiss, grinding his neglected cock against your slick folds as you taste yourself on his tongue.

You gently push him away so that you can finally catch your breath, you stare up at him, wide eyed and in awe of his skill, despite the apparent knowledge that Chiss don’t engage in oral sex.

“Was that satisfactory?” he asks with a small smile that indicates he already knows the answer and you give him a blissed-out smile.

“Far more than satisfactory” you pant, your body still being rocked by the aftershocks of your orgasm. “You sure you’ve never done that before?”

“Quite sure” he says with a breathy chuckle as his hand goes to his cock, relieving some of the pressure as he strokes himself slowly, seemingly content to watch you bathe in the afterglow of your pleasure.

You glance down at his length, the tip an angry purple that is drooling precum, the sight makes your mouth water, and you want nothing more than to return the favour. Your body feels like jelly, but you manage to find the strength to sit up, reversing your positions so that he is laying back on the bed while you kneel between his spread thighs.

You begin kissing down his neck, sucking purple marks onto it just below where his high uniform collar will cover it as he writhes beneath you, obviously attempting to control himself. He grips the sheets, panting and giving slight grunts as you kiss your way down his chest, stopping partway to lick and suck on his nipples before continuing your journey south. You run your tongue along his abs, into the dips where his precum has pooled and swallow it down, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time before you give the tip of his cock a soft kiss.

His back arches, his hands moving from the sheets to the back of your head to tangle in your hair as he mutters to himself in Cheunh. Maintaining eye contact, you lick a stripe from base to tip and are rewarded with a loud grunt as the muscles in his chest flex and it’s obvious that despite only just starting, his restraint is tenuous.

Deciding that tenuous is still too much for your liking, your take him in your mouth as far down as he will go, gagging as the tip hits the back of your throat, one hand moving to stroke what you can’t fit in your mouth. The sounds you drag from him as he’s engulfed in the warm, wet heat of your mouth is nothing short of pornographic, his hips thrust up slightly of their own accord, forcing himself further down your throat until he seems to force himself to keep his hips still.

You bob your head up and down, your tongue running over the ridges as you suck and draw as many of those delicious sounds from him as you can, focusing extra attention to the head as you attempt to take even more of his girth down your throat. His hips start thrusting up of their own accord again and you attempt to relax your throat, allowing him to use your mouth as he wants to, each stroke going deeper and deeper until your nose is pressed against his crotch and you hold yourself there, swallowing around him.

His moans increase in volume and his thrusts begin to get sloppy, muttering a single word in Cheunh repeatedly “Ttis'ah… Ttis'ah…” and you redouble your efforts, taking him deep into your throat until “I- I am about to-” he meets your eyes as he attempts to warn you, but you only take him as deep into your throat as you can.

His hands hold your head down as he cums, spilling rope after rope of hot, white seed, his cock throbbing and twitching as he empties himself down your throat and slumping back onto the bedding, panting as he regains his senses.

You pull off of his cock with a lewd pop, licking your lips after swallowing every last drop of his cum and smiling down at him as he looks up at you, eyes half lidded, hair mussed, sweat beading on his brow.

“I… do not understand why this is not something Chiss do… that was… Ch'esehn” he says after steadying his breathing and heartrate, opening his arms to you for you to lay against his chest. You laugh softly looking up at him.

“Ch'esehn?” You ask, attempting to replicate the strange word but failing to pronounce it with the same fluidity that he does.

“Amazing… magnificent… beyond words” he translates for you, moving one arm tighter around you as the two of you lay naked together and you feel a spark of pride that you managed to make him feel so good.

“How long are we going to be out here?” you ask as you gaze up at the ceiling of the shuttle.

“Long enough that we shall have ample opportunity to… explore far more things together” he kisses the top of your head “but for now, rest. We will have more time to spend together after we regain our strength.”

You let your eyes close, feeling Thrawn rubbing his thumb over your shoulder in small circles and you can’t help but feel a twinge of dread in the pit of your stomach as you realise that you are in fact falling for this man.

@al-astakbar @novemberblueskyink @khapikat222 @mitth-eli-vanto @blackmonitor @ele-millennial-weirdo @thrawnspetgoose

#thrawn x reader #thrawn smut #thrawn x reader smut #grand admiral thrawn #admiral thrawn #thrawn #mitth'raw'nuruodo

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hyperactively-me · 1 year

Text

so...how about that?

You nearly forgot that Mando was there until your eyes meet his visor. He’s standing there, watching your chest heave with adrenaline. You straighten out your back, standing up as tall as you can. Your cheeks are flushed with color, your breath slowing down.

just wanted to ask you guys to please read this

(asks are open)

happy reading

warnings: canon typical violence

Mando joins you in a cantina after picking up more bounty pucks, ready to follow a new string of criminals and outlaws around the galaxy.

“Hey” you chirp at him, smiling gently as he stands behind you. He nods his head, acknowledging you with an almost annoyed demeanor. It wasn’t that long ago that you first met; he was still adjusting to your presence and role in his life of travel and violence.

“I just finished, you ready?” you say as you down the last sip of your beverage, setting it down with a sigh. He is still looking at you.

“Okay then” you say awkwardly, unsure of what to say to him as he continues to stand, unmoving.

You slide down the barstool, feet hitting the ground with a small thud.

“Follow me” he demands before taking long strides away towards the exit. You follow him quickly, staring at the back of his chest plate without a thought in your mind. You really had no idea what to think of him, his unresponsiveness, his impassive behavior.

You approach the exit and cross the threshold, now walking towards his ship, the Razor Crest. The streets are filled with merchants, vendors, and passerbys. You pass stalls full of fresh fruits, hand-cut meats, colorful fabrics, and shiny jewelry. You marvel at the sights and sounds, entranced by the busy buzz of the market. You reminisce about your short days of being a carefree child, one that ran errands for her parents at the local markets. You would always bring back beautiful beads for your mother and practical gadgets for your father. Taking in the sights only increased the hole in your heart, your heart feeling heavy in your chest. You shake off the feeling as you walk, remembering Mando is still in front of you. He walks with the confidence only a man of his stature and reputation could have, his spine straightened out and his steps assuring. His broad shoulders nearly block out your vision, the beskar plates adding to his overbearing appearance. He hooks a thumb into a belt loop, strutting down the street as if he had no worries.

The crowd begins to thin out as you approach the hangar where the Crest was waiting for the both of you. A few people sit on the corners of streets, selling their goods or just walking to wherever their destination is. You don’t notice a couple of ex-stormtroopers pressed against a building until Mando abruptly stops. His hand falls on his blaster, prepared to shoot if necessary.

He glances back at you with an ever-stoic expression plastered on his helmet. Ok, you couldn’t see his face, but his body language perfectly conveyed his expression. You gaze right back at him, a sense of danger washing over you. Your eyes widen a bit in an attempt to convey the sense of impending danger approaching. Your breath He seems to notice your fear and he straightens his demeanor, adjusting his grip on his blaster.

All of a sudden, a stormtrooper comes barreling out of a neighboring building, armed and ready to attack. The trooper pushes you to the ground harshly, disregarding you and instead pummeling over Mando with a running jump. Mando lands hard onto his side, groaning from the impact. You shriek as you’re pushed to the ground, caught off guard by the attacker. You watch as his blaster skids across the cobblestone, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. Two more ex-stormtroopers emerge from the building, pinning Mando to the ground, attempting to hold down his arms. Mando grunts under the pressure, flailing about, trying to free himself from their grip. Mando kicks one stormtrooper square in the chest, sending him flying backwards. You quickly sit up, fumbling with your own blaster, shakily pulling it out from a leather strap around your thigh. Without hesitating, you shoot a trooper in his leg, dismantling him from holding Mando back.

Mando decides to swing his free arm around and grab the last stormtrooper still holding onto him. He drags down the trooper, successfully disengaging from the trooper's failed attempt of holding him down. Your heart is racing as you watch Mando pull himself up from the ground, chest heaving with adrenaline. Before you can pick yourself off the ground, another trooper managed to sneak his way behind you and drag you across the cobblestone. You cry out, startled from the unfamiliar touch. Your neck aches as his forearm wraps around your neck, dragging you down the street. You immediately swing your arm around, grabbing his neck with the crook of your elbow. You swing around to his back, trying to pull him down with you to no avail. The trooper tries to grab at you from behind, struggling with your elusive grip. You wind up your good arm, ready to throw a punch. You strike the trooper from the back, giving him a deserved underhand punch where his helmet met the back of his neck. The trooper stumbles from the impact, his grip on you loosening significantly. You swing around to his front side and punch him once more, straight into his visor. The trooper stills for a moment before falling limp and toppling over onto the hard cobblestone.

Your breath comes out ragged, anxiety freely flowing through your body. Your hand was balled into a fist, drawing blood from where your nails met your palms. You shake out your hand, hissing from the impact you wrought upon the trooper. Your eyes are fiery, full of adrenaline and anger.

He rushes over to you, his leather-clad hands grasping your shoulders. You shake off his grip, taking a few hesitant steps back from him. He almost seems surprised you think impatiently, letting out an internal sigh.

He stares at you, hesitant of what to do, what to say.

“I didn’t know you could fight like that” Mando breathes out, unsure of what to say. He shifts his weight before bending down to pick up your fallen blaster.

He turns it over in his hands a few times before walking up to you and placing it in your own hands. He folds your hands over, his leather-clad hands engulfing yours. You look up at him with an unreadable expression. He quickly notices your gaze as he steps back from you, clearing his throat loudly. You tense up a little, unsure of what to do at the moment.

“Yeah, I’m just full of surprises, Mando” you breathe out. You bend down to fasten your blaster around your thigh strap.

“Where did you learn to fight like that?” he questions, watching as you secure your blaster around your thigh.

“Self-taught. Had to have some form of self-preservation when I was growing up” you inform him blandly, looking up from where you had finally secured your blaster. His black visor is trained where your hands were. You stand there silently, looking up and down at him subtly, skeptical of his actions. He tugs his belt on a little tighter before turning around again.

You stare at him as he begins to step away, rolling out his shoulder blades with quiet cracks. Before you can think, you find yourself lightly jogging to catch up to him, not turning back to look at the mess you made of the assailants. You

“Are you okay? Those were some pretty nasty hits you took…” you mutter, looking him up and down with a studious gaze. Yet again, you’re met with the same brick-wall silence, the only audible sound being the crunch of his boots over loose rubble.

You both saunter into the hangar, Mando’s heat signature releasing the ramp of the Crest, slowly lowering down to the ground. You keep your eyes trained to the floor, your mind racing of things to say to him. As he stalks up the ramp, you scramble after him, biting your lip with hesitance. The ramp shuts with a loud creak, eliciting a sigh from Mando. He leans against the wall, his weight supported by the cool silver walls.

“I– I’m pretty sure you’re hurt” you squeak out, noticing the way he’s holding the side of his chest plate.

He whips his head in your direction, a breath of frustration crackling over the voice modulator.

“It’s fine” he grunts out forcefully, unwilling to let you press him with more questions.

Anger shoots up in your chest, your nostrils flaring. You ball your hands into fists, unwilling to let him get away with this passive aggressive behavior. You stomp over to him and begin to pull his chest plate off.

Mando is quick to push you off him, shoving you backwards.

“Don’t” he says forcefully, an edge of coldness and abrasiveness seeping from his voice.

“Just let me help you” you grunt out as you try to come near him again, annoyed with his stubbornness.

His hands shoot out to stop you once more, but this time you take them into your hands and shove them away vigorously, unrelenting in your mission to inspect his injury. You manage to press your hands over an area on his chest, a groan spilling out of his helmet as you apply pressure to the site. You let out a sigh and dig your hand into his shoulder, strenuously pushing him into a sitting position against the wall. He sits down reluctantly, faltering under your touch.

You begin to lift off his beskar, struggling with the heavy precious metal. His hands move to help you take it off his chest, breath straining as he moves the plate over his head. He groans out in pain after dropping it to the floor, clutching his side once more. You gingerly lift up the dark pauldron he was wearing, ensuring you don’t knock your fingers into the affected area. As the fabric is lifted off his skin, a large bruise is blooming from the side of his ribcage. A sharp inhale escapes your lips, eyes slightly widening at the sheer size of the bruise.

“They really got you there” you gawk, hands floundering around the dark bruise. He stares straight at you, visor boring into your skull. You pretend not to notice him, refusing to look at his helmet.

You turn, briskly making your way towards the fresher, rummaging through a small basket of towels. You grab a small washcloth from the bundle and turn to the sink. You flip a handle on the sink, cool water running from the faucet. You run the cloth under the cool water, dampening the material until it drips with water. The faucet squeaks to a stop as you shut it off, and you quickly make your way back towards Mando. Your breath picks up as you approach him, his helmet now trained on your hands holding the dripping washcloth.

You plop down to the ground, the floor making a dubious creaking sound as you sit cross-legged. You lean in towards Mando, gently pressing the cloth into the side of his abdomen. He lets out a husky groan, the sound piercing the still air. He places his large hands over yours, nearly enveloping your hands. You stay quiet, your cheeks slightly flushing from his actions.

“Just keep that compress over the bruise for a while. It’ll help the pain” you breath out, slowly pulling your hands away from his own. He slowly looks at you, studying your face as you look at him, your lips pressed together. You drop your hands in our lap, unsure of what to do.

“Thank you” he rasps out, nodding his head slowly.

“Don’t mention it” you huff out, pushing stray pieces of hair behind your ear. You watch as he presses the cloth on his bruise. He releases some of the pressure applied on the site of injury. You watch as he lifts one hand off the cloth, reaching towards one of your hands. You let him take it, cheeks flushing with color as the warmth of his hand seeps into your own. He gives your hand two gentle squeezes before letting go of it. The tiniest of smiles appears on your face for a dashing moment before a serious expression paints your face. What is he- what is he doing you thought, your heart racing a million miles per second. But you didn’t want him to let go. You delicately reach your hand out once more, latching onto his hand with a tight yet comforting grip. He drops his guard, becoming pliant in your hands. I could get used to this you thought, the corner of your lips slightly raising into the tiniest of smiles.

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sw5w · 11 months

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Tolpa Da Bunky Na Booty Cha Naga...

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:54:04

#Star Wars #Episode I #The Phantom Menace #Tatooine #Xelric Draw #Mos Espa #Mos Espa Grand Arena #Boonta Eve Classic #pit hangar #Huttese #unidentified human #unidentified Kajain'sa'Nikto #Watto #Mawhonic's podracer #ThrustMaster 9000 aerospike rocket engine #Toydarian #Ossiki Confederacy Army

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immaculatasknight · 1 year

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It's not a bug. It's a feature.

#technology #aerospace #F-35 #boondoggle #money pit #embarrassment #death trap #hangar queen

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wardenparker · 1 year

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Down the Rabbit Hole - ch 9

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.

Rating: Mature - but this blog is always 18+! Word Count: 12.3k Warnings: *Blanket warnings - mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing.* Family being family, brief mention of previous physical abuse/ptsd, playful and sexy flirting Summary: Your family arrives in Louisville and inevitable shenanigans ensue. Notes: Hardcore shout out to my godparents and their kids (my surrogate siblings that I love and adore) for being the inspiration for Sugar’s family. One day I’ll write about the time my godmother and I got day drunk and went traipsing through historical houses for shits and giggles.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11 ~ Ch 12 ~ Ch 13 ~ Ch 14 ~ Ch 15 ~ Epilogue

The morning is busy, despite the laziness of waking up in each other’s arms again, and includes a pit stop at Ginger’s lab to have temporary versions of your Curiouser and Curiouser tattoo applied for your family’s benefit and check in with the Statesman doctor. Standard procedure, apparently, for soulmates who have had their ink removed to accommodate their agent spouses. Your family will see the proof that you are soulmates, and Jack can wash away the evidence to go back to work after they leave. In jeans and t-shirts, you and Jack amble down to the Statesman airstrip with the Bronco and your little car to bring everyone back to his house for a few days. His three guest rooms edge out your one, so you had brought over a bag of clothes and personal items this morning to stash in his room. His place seemed enormous after leaving your little cabin, but it’s cozy in a very western cowboy kind of way. When the jet lands, the Silver Pony is right behind it. Jack’s beloved fighter will go back to the hangar, but your focus is entirely on the jet as your family disembarks. The last time you saw most of them was your cousin’s wedding, and that was months ago, so you’re itching to jump forward on the tarmac and hug your sister.

Jack stays back, not because he’s wary of meeting your family, but this is your reunion. You’re aware you can tell them things up to a certain point and he knows that you don’t want your family to know the true extent of your ordeal, but family is going to smother you. It’s their way. “Go on, sugar.” He urges you, grinning when they all shout in unison when they see you.

These are hugging people, every single one of them, and it takes better than ten minutes for the fussing and first round of hugs to die down, but you end up with your niece in your arms and grateful tears in your eyes by the end of it. Your mother, for all her lifetime of journalism, is at least keeping the questions to a minimum for now. Mostly just repetitions of “But you’re okay now?” whenever you remind her that you can’t talk about an ongoing investigation - the ‘easy out’ line that Jack had taught you.

It’s only when your personal hoard finally migrated towards the cars does Jack step forward. “Hey folks, I’m Jack.” He’s going to leave it up to you to introduce him if you want, and he’s not sure if you’ve said anything about him before.

“Ohhh, you’re Jack.” Your little sister smirks, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Kind of expected Tex to be here with you, honey. Not going to lie.” Your father, meddlesome king that he is, is occupied with caring for your nephew otherwise you’d probably smack his shoulder much harder than strictly necessary.

“No, Dad.” You focus on loading their suitcases into your trunk so you don’t murder him with your glare. “Actually, I’m really excited for all of you to meet Jack, but you have to promise not to freak out.” Your eyes glide to your right. “Mom? Promise.”

“I would never act inappropriately with your friends, sweetie,” she promises, fully ignoring the many times she has done so before today.

“Liar, but okay.” An affectionate roll of your eyes is well earned, but you stop loading bags for a second to do introductions properly. “Jack, this is my brother Matt, my sister Eliza, her husband Ed, their kids are Nate and Eleanor. And my parents, Jeff and Sherry.” Taking a deep breath, you can’t help the broad, nearly giddy smile that spreads across your face. “Guys…Jack is my soulmate.”

He can’t say that he was expecting the red carpet, but it’s almost funny when your dad’s eyes narrow instantly. “He’s older than you.” Are the first words out of the man’s mouth and honestly, he doesn’t blame him.

“Thank you, Captain Obvious.” You roll your eyes out of frustration that that is the first reaction from your family on something so important. “Yes, Jack is older than me. And you’re older than Mom. It happens all the time.” Granted their difference is a year not a decade, but it really doesn’t matter to you.

“Sorry.” Your dad shakes his head and shuffles forward, holding out his hand to Jack. “I was expecting her to announce that Tex was her soulmate and they had just kept it under wraps at the wedding to not steal the spotlight.” That stings, especially because he was supposed to go to that wedding, but he shakes the man’s hand firmly. “Sorry about that. But I assure you that your daughter is in good hands.”

“Actually, Tex only came with me as a stand-in. He’s a good friend.” You can see Jack flinch slightly and you don’t like it, feeling the way your heart clenches at any sign of discomfort from him. “Jack got caught up with work.” That clench becomes a swell, and your chest puffs up a little with pride. You can’t tell them what Jack really does for work, but his other title is just as impressive. “He’s the CEO of Statesman, so he stays busy.”

That seems to resonate with the family, making Jack the recipient of several reappraising looks. “So that’s why we get flown down on the corporate jet?” Your mom asks and Jack shakes his head.

“No ma’am. That’ll be Champ's decision. I might be CEO, but I answer to him.” He jokes before he takes your hand. “At Statesman, we take the welfare of our soulmates and their families very seriously. We like to think of ourselves as our own little family and that now includes you folks.”

“You’ll see how seriously they take the ‘family’ thing when you see where we all live,” you tell them honestly, shifting your niece carefully in the arm that wasn’t loading suitcases. “We have all the stuff for grilled cheeses and the carrot soup that the kids love back at Jack’s house.”

“Jack’s house?” Your mother cocks her head at your wording. “You aren’t living together already?” She knows how you feel about soulmates so it is surprising to her.

“No, but he has more guest rooms and he offered. This way we can all stay in one place together and no one has a hotel bill.”

“Purely practical. Got it.” Teases your sister, who is the only one who has heard the entire saga of back-and-forth with Jack.

“If you all want to get loaded up.” Jack offers. “We’ll get you back to the house and the makeshift family reunion can start in a jiffy.”

Getting everyone back to the house takes a little finagling but it works, and your brother rides with your parents and Jack in the Bronco to make sure they behave. The kids are fussy when you get to the house but your sister sets them up to nap with the monitor on once everyone’s bags are upstairs and - as is the custom with your family - everyone congregates in the kitchen without discussion. In fact, the biggest discussion right now is what to do with the kids while everyone is here. Touristy things like Churchill Downs and the Kentucky Derby Museum, the Louisville Zoo, and the amusement park Kentucky Kingdom are all on the list, according to your mother. “We’ll drive out to Dollywood sometime without the kids,” she tells you, glancing at your father with a grin. He’s a legendary Dolly Parton fan but the little ones would never survive the drive without totally melting down.

“If that’s something you want to do….” Jack hums. “We can always drop the kids into the Statesman day care. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind. Or I can stay back and watch them.”

“You guys can always add a few days to your vacation,” you offer, already bustling around the kitchen to get everyone something to drink before you start making lunch. “The jet is already reserved to take everybody else home on Saturday morning, instead of going home you can hop a commercial flight to Tennessee and check out Dollywood. If dad likes it, we’ll make it the next family vacation?”

Jack listens to the conversation, trying to get a feel for your family and he doesn’t miss the way that they are looking at him, judging him. It’s been a long time since he’s had to worry about what people think of him.

The rolls you all fill get to be obvious after a while - your excitable mother and nosy father, generally troublemaking sister and her easy-going husband, punctuated by your brother who likes to poke and make trouble sometimes or play the peacemaker at others, depending on when the mood strikes him. At the moment he is being good, just watching your brand-new soulmate to see how he deals with your parents. Right now it's a roundabout while your father pretends he isn't dying to go to Dollywood under literally any circumstances and everyone else provides him with various ways to make it happen, until he finally grins at all of you and takes a sip of his sweet tea. "Your mom and I will go for a few days this weekend," he agrees, looking around at the group of his three kids with two of their soulmates and feeling a little like the king of the castle. "I'm sure we'll love it, and we can all go back again together." He raises an eyebrow at you. "You're still gonna be able to get away for family vacation this year, right kiddo?"

"As long as you don't schedule it for the week my restaurant opens, of course I will." It's not something they would ever do, but you can't help getting excited about the opening with it being so close.

Jack leans against the counter. “It’s gonna be a big affair and we’ll have the jet standing by again to bring everyone down.” He tells them, wanting them to know that it’s going to be taken care of. “You’re doing it that Saturday or Sunday, sugar?” He asks, looking back at you.

"It's Saturday." There's no reason to hide that you love the little pet name, and you practically beam at him. "Sunday will be special because it's the first day we're doing brunch." The Sunday brunch menu was Diana's brain child originally, when you made eggs benedict for the two of you one day in the kitchen. "Just three more weeks." Your brother hovers a little, still feeling guilty for losing track of you when you came to visit him, as if the Rollins brothers wouldn't have just grabbed him, too.

Jack nods. “Some of the best damn food to be had will be available at the Statesman tea room.” He sends you a small wink. “And the sweetest desserts.”

"We heard you fell for the coconut cake just like her granddad did." Your mother grins. "There's no way around it. That cake is the best thing in the world."

“The coconut cake is to die for.” Jack nods in complete agreement, already anticipating when you make that confection again. “But her crawfish salad was what threw in the towel for me.”

“I don’t think you’ve made that for us, sweetie.” Your father eyes you with a pout as you move around the kitchen.

“You don’t like shellfish,” you remind him with a laugh. “It’s the recipe I used to make shrimp salad tea sandwiches for Eliza’s bridal shower with a few little tweaks.”

“Best damn sandwich I’ve ever put in my mouth.” Jack boasts. “This tea room of hers is going to be a success.”

“I’m gonna have to put a padlock on the fridge to keep you from sneaking into the kitchen.” Teasing him has truly turned to being second nature, and it’s gone further than it had during that first tentative week of knowing each other. There’s so much affection there that it warms you through time after time, making you duck your head when you smile at him. “Put up a picture of you in back for my staff to warn them.”

“Wanted: Sandwich Thief.” Jack snorts, shooting you devilish grin, “considered armed and dangerous but can be bribed with a cupcake.”

"You'll fit right in, in this family." From the other side of the table, your brother-in-law laughs. "Food is their love language."

“Be honest, I think it just might be her cookin’.” He jokes, sending you a small wink. “Showed her a pizza place, she didn’t like it at all.” He chuckles, watching your face morph from shock to outrage.

"You wouldn't dare keep Tony's from me." Your jaw is practically on the ground, eyebrows pinched and a pout painting the rest of your features as you freeze in the middle of peeling a carrot. "Not after truffle pizza. I dreamed about that pizza."

His chuckle turns slightly mean, so sinister – though everyone can tell he’s joking. A sound similar to the evil antagonists in every spy movie they put out, and he’s watched them all for the irony. “Then my evil plan worked.”

"So mean, threatening to keep the good pizza away." There's no heat in the way you huff at him, and if you had looked over at the table in that moment you would have seen your brother and sister exchanging amused, knowing expressions.

“Keep it all for myself.” He adds, enjoying the pouty look you’re giving him. “Do you want me to help? Get out the bowls or something?” You’ve already inspected his kitchen and grumbled about needing to bring some of your stuff over if you’re cooking here, but he just assumed that was what every chef did.

"Can I trust you with the grilled cheese?" It's barely a real question, since the man has been feeding himself for decades, but you like the small moments of domesticity that you've been sharing this morning.

“I don’t burn ‘em, if that’s what you’re askin’.” Jack moves over towards you and his hand finds your waist as he moves to your other side. “How do you make your grilled cheese?” He has a feeling it’s a little more involved than two slices of bread, a slice of American cheese and some butter.

“No reason to get complicated today.” Everybody at the table is chatting away merrily about something that happened back home, and you take the second to lean into Jack’s touch a little. “When it’s me, I do apple and bacon and a Muenster cheese. But classic American is a great sandwich to do in bulk.” He’s warm and feels safe beside you, a feeling you’re learning to relish. “This isn’t too crazy for you, is it?” You whisper, worried that on day two of your precarious relationship, he might change his mind after remembering what dealing with another person’s family can be like.

“It’s….a lot.” Jack admits quietly, unused to the large family feeling that had descended on his house. But it’s not an unwelcome one. “But it’s okay, sugar. I grew up in boisterous bunkhouses on the ranch when I was old enough to be there. Which was as long as I could sit on a horse.”

“If it gets to be too much just say the word and I’ll ferry them out to whatever tourist spot they want to see. Or I’ll bring them back to my place. Whatever you need, okay? This is…it’s new.” You sigh gently, leaning into him a little more. “I don’t want to scare you off before we even get started.”

“Don’t worry about that.” Jack uses your willingness to lean against him to curl around you. “I’m tired of runnin’ from you, sugar. I’m too damn old to be actin’ like a young buck anymore. You’re my soulmate.”

“Can’t say I’m ever gonna get tired of hearing you say it.” You hum softly, turning your head to press your lips to his cheek.

The warmth that spreads through his whole body at the simple gesture would have made him run for the hills a week ago. Now he just makes a small sound of appreciation and squeezes your hip again before he slides over to start making sandwiches for everyone.

“So this is new.” When Jack moves to one side, your brother appears between you with an unreadable expression that only hints at curiosity. “When she showed up at my place Friday night she was definitely not glowing like this.” In fact, you had been miserable and in tears, so the change has him about ready to offer to be Jack’s best man someday.

“That’s my fault.” Jack isn’t going to shy away from his mistakes, not when they have affected you so deeply. He owns who he is to the marrow of his bones. “I couldn’t get my head out of my ass long enough to realize I was scared.”

“I know she’s a pain in the ass,” Matt smirks at you and you glower in response. “But she’s not that bad once you get used to her.”

Jack chuckles when you turn around and throw a piece of carrot at your brother and stick your tongue out at him. “Mature.” He teases as he lays out the bread for the other half of the lunch.

“Middle child.” Matt tells Jack, as though that explains every ounce of your behavior. “Anyway…whatever this is…she looks happy. And she’s got her sense of humor back. So keep doing what you’re doing.”

It says something that just acknowledging the fact that you are soulmates makes you happy. Jack nods, and levels a genuine look at your brother. “Your sister's health and happiness are my top priorities.” He promises seriously.

"Glad to hear it." He may give you both shit, but Matt takes his role as older brother to two younger sisters very seriously. If your little sister hadn't met her soulmate-now-husband in high school, there would have been a lot more intimidating of boyfriends. "Like I said, she's a pain in the ass. But she's our pain in the ass."

Jack chuckles quietly, noticing how you look like you want to die, melt into the hardwoods to never be seen again. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He nods towards your brother and the unspoken agreement is arranged. The one that speaks to if Jack hurts you - again - he will sit and take the ass whooping he deserves.

"Jack, honey." Your mother looks over as your brother moves away and smiles. "Will you tell us a little about yourself?" It's an innocent effort to get the ball rolling, but she's trying to do it gently. Any little tidbits to get to know her daughter's soulmate better.

Nodding, Jack decides that it’s best that he puts his hands to use while he answers that loaded question. “Well, ma’am, I was born and raised on a ranch. Decided it wasn’t the life I wanted anymore when I – lost my first soulmate. I went into the military and then when I was done with that, I joined Statesman.”

"Military?" That makes your mother tilt her head in interest. "What branch? My father was a Navy man."

“Air Force.” Jack gives a small shrug. “I have a love of planes, but didn’t get to fly ‘em when I was in because of not being an officer.”

“It’s never too late to get your pilot’s license,” your sister volunteers, her cheery optimism on display as always. If you and Jack are finally giving things a try - which it seems you are - then she wants him to be happy, too.

"I fly now." Jack assures her, giving a peacock proud grin. "That plane that was being pulled into the hangar after you landed is mine. Brought back from New York."

“You were in New York?” Your mother asks, clearly asking why without saying it.

“Jack came to bring me home.” You turn around at the counter, one hand pausing in stirring the soup on the stove. “He’s been taking care of me since everything happened.”

"And he flew a…fighter plane there…" The obvious questions are there, bubbling under her tone as if there is a piece to the puzzle that your mother can't see but wants to find out. It makes Jack grateful for the fake tattoos that are on your bodies in case someone wants to see.

"Quickest way to get there." Jack says breezily, like it was standard operating procedure to fly it. "I'm sure you understand the need to get to your soulmate when something happens."

“You almost got arrested for reckless driving the day Dad broke his leg,” you remind your mother with a raised eyebrow. “And he was already at the hospital. I’m just glad Jack had a way to get to me that wasn’t an eleven hour car ride.”

Your mom nods her head in agreement, but he can see that she knows that there is more to the story than what you’re telling. “I don’t know if I woulda survived an eleven hour trip.” He tells her.

“Hell, I might not have.” The mumble under your breath is only loud enough for Jack, but you offer your family an apologetic expression. “We can’t talk about it,” you remind them. “But I promise you, Jack is taking care of me until I’m allowed to go back to work.”

“It’s not going to affect your opening?” Your dad asks. “I don’t know what happened, but if they aren’t letting you go back to work– that’s just a precaution right?”

“Purely precaution. Champ wants me fully rested and in the best possible shape for the opening, so we’re being overly careful.” Deciding you can leave the soup for a few minutes, you go over to the table to pour a glass of tea for yourself and squeeze your dad’s shoulder reassuringly. “I’m okay, and my team is amazing. The opening is going to be perfect.”

Jack finishes assembling all the sandwiches, sticking to a mixture of cheeses and smearing some of the garlic butter that he had made from your cabin on the outside of the bread. The griddle in the middle of the stove is already waiting, but he waits for you to tell him when to put them on to toast so they can be ready when the soup is.

It’s when Jack is passing by your father at the table with a stack of plates in his arms that your father hrrmphs, and you turn around at the stove to frown. “What?” You ask, knowing that sound all too well.

“He has it.” Your father huffs, pointing at Jack’s arm.

“Yeah, Dad. We’re soulmates. I told you that.”

“Sure,” your father crosses his arms. “But he also said he had a first soulmate, and second soulmates only exist in fairy tales.”

"I thought so too." Jack admits easily. "It's– that's one of the reasons why I was–" Jack stops and turns to look towards you. "I denied it. I didn't want it because I didn't think it was possible. But it is, and we are soulmates - whether or not I wanted it or thought it was possible."

“How do you feel about it now?” Your mother asks, obviously actually asking how he feels about you, and eyeing you seriously when you try to stop her from finishing her sentence.

“I would die for your daughter.” Jack tells your mother honestly. “Her health, her happiness, are the most important things in the world to me.”

“I think we can stop the interrogations on that note, don’t you?” The question may be for your mother, but it’s Jack that you put your arms around and murmur “I love you” in his ear. It’s enough that he’s not fighting it anymore. Enough that he’s willing to face the fear inherent in loving deeply for a second time. You don’t want this entire visit to be an interview.

“It’s okay.” Jack assures you, just as quietly. He had expected this type of interrogation, especially because of his actions and you fleeing to New York in the face of your last argument.

“Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” You whisper back, leaving a brushed kiss on his cheek before stepping away to grab the stick blender and purée the soup. “Everybody having grilled cheese?” The bright question for the group is meant to change the subject and distract. Everyone, especially you.

Your brother-in-law snickers, obviously onto your meaning and he nods. “I want one of course, but I’m gonna go check on the kids.” He stands up and sends Jack a nod of encouragement. “Be right back.”

Thankfully the air clears while you and Jack finish cooking lunch, and by the time everything is on the table the kids are up from their nap and wanting to talk about the horsies that Mommy and Daddy promised they could go see – meaning you will absolutely be taking a trip to Churchill Downs tomorrow come hell or high water.

“Don’t understand how you can make carrot soup taste good.” Jack groans as he spoons up another bite and rolls his eyes at the taste.

“She’s magic.” Your sister points her spoon at you in between mouthfuls. “I swear I gained so much weight while she was in culinary school. Everything she makes is amazing.”

Jack sends you a proud wink, nodding. “I can just imagine.” He tears off a bite of his sandwich to dunk it into the soup to meld the flavors together.

Normally ready to dive face first into a bowl of your carrot soup, your nephew is completely demolishing his half of the grilled cheese that your sister put in front of him, practically cackling about how much he likes it. “It tastes like garlic bread!” He gasps excitedly, as though the rest of you aren’t eating the very same thing.

Jack chuckles and nods. “I always like garlic bread best, how about you, buddy?” He asks your nephew with interest.

"Daddy says I can't ever be a vampire." The little boy declares, chest puffed up proudly as he rips off another bite of his sandwich.

That is definitely the comment made to a person that loves garlic. “That’s good.” Jack raises his brows seriously. “I’ve heard that being a vampire is no fun. No beach days.”

This seems to make the little boy pause, and think about the consequences of vampirism incredibly seriously. "That's good," he says, imitating Jack's tone the way only a child can. "I like the beach. Being a vampire does not sound fun."

All of the adults laugh and nod in agreement as the sounds of eating give way to amusement. Jack winks at the younger man. "You'd rather be a cowboy." He tells the boy seriously. "We eat garlic bread all the time."

"Cowboys ride horses." At nearly four years old, Nate's love of horses is already so well established that it has rubbed off on his baby sister - who squeals and giggles and babbles with delight whenever there is anything on the tv at home that features the large animals. "Horses are super cool."

"Horses are cool." Jack shoots a glance at your sister and brother-in-law. "There are horses here." He offers, the southern edge of the property behind the distillery is lined up with the neighbor's horse farm. The horses love to come hang out by the fence line and scarf down scraps the visitors bring them. "I'm sure that if you are really good and listen to your parents, they might let you visit the horses, feed them some apples?"

Nate's little eyes go round as saucers, immediately turning to his parents with desperate pleading painted across every inch of his face. "I'll be the best boy!" He promises, clasping his hands over his heart in the most dramatic fashion possible. "I promise, I promise!"

Jack knows that he might have put your sister and her husband on the spot, but it could also be something that the kids enjoy. The tours end around five but the horses are going to be waiting around because a lot of the staff also enjoy feeding them. The neighbor didn't mind. Hell, his feed costs dropped after people started feeding the horses.

"There are horses on the property?" Your sister asks, looking to Jack with curiosity. "Like as a gimmick or something?"

“Nah.” Jack shakes his head. “At the property line. Neighboring property is a horse farm.” He explains. “The horses love to come to the fence line and beg the tourists for the fruit.”

"And the owner is okay with that?" She glances back at her son and over at your parents, collecting reactions when Jack nods.

"Why don't we take a distillery tour this afternoon?" You suggest, thinking this might be the perfect middle ground for a family afternoon activity. "We can enjoy some samples in the saloon after and then go bring the horses some snacks?"

"That sounds good to me." Jack agrees. "I can make sure you get the extra special tour." He chuckles. "More samples and no other tour groups with us."

"Perks of knowing the CEO." Your father chuckles, raising his tea in salute. "Sounds like a plan, kids."

This is going to work. The nerves that had bounced around in his belly start to settle and Jack leans back, smirking at you as you murmur to your sister quietly. Obviously talking about things that only sisters do - or when a group of friends get together. He doesn't mind this at all.

Under the table, your hand finds Jack's thigh and squeezes gently, the quiet signal of support and happiness speaking loud and clear in the moment. You're going to make this trip a good one.

******

It’s a few hours before the tour happens. The younger kids are easily entertained at the pond in the small park nearby after the adults get everything unpacked in their guest rooms, and ultimately the large group is ready to explore the sprawling Statesman campus. Jack smirks as they start all talking at once as you field questions.

“Okay, you guys have to chill.” You’re laughing despite the admonishment, poking your sister in the arm playfully and waggling another finger at your curious father. “I asked Diana to do this tour for you herself and she’s the best, but she’s also my very closest friend down here, so you have to be nice.”

“Smart business.” Your mother teases, winking at you. “Always make friends with the boss’s wife.”

“It wasn’t sneaky or anything, she’s just really cool.” If anything, you get special treatment for being Jack’s soulmate - like your entire restaurant, for example.

“Then I think I will like this woman.” She decides, wanting to learn about your life here. Especially because your soulmate is now here. She hasn’t missed the way that Jack hovers over you and she approves of it.

“Who are we likin’, sweet darlin?” Diana has the uncanny ability to seemingly appear out of nowhere, but this time it’s completely reasonable as she strolls out the front doors of Statesman’s main offices with Champ in tow to throw her arms around you. She’d been to see you while you were healing in Ginger’s lab and Jack has filled her in on the details of the mission that he could manage to speak about.

“You, love!” You return her embrace eagerly, glad to see smiles on the faces of people you love again. “Thank you so much for doing this, Di.”

“No problem at all!” She waves away your thanks and tuts. “Your family is our family.” She promises before she turns towards the group and puts on her friendliest smile to introduce herself to your family.

“You may regret that,” your father jokes, knowing that all of his children like to bust him about being a handful.

"When you deal with the egos I do, anyone is easy to handle." Diana jokes, throwing a wink back at her husband as she ushers him forward. "This is my husband, Champ." She introduces him. "Technically Jack and your daughter's boss."

“Technically both, but only one of ‘em listens.” Champ chuckles, shaking your father’s hand and accepting a hug from your mother. “Jack’s stubborner than a mule in March muck.”

"Now Champ, I wouldn't be your best employee if I just marched to your tune and you know it." Jack shoots back, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops and grinning at the older man.

Narrowing in on the way Jack says employee instead of agent, Champ shakes his head and chuckles before looking back at your siblings. "Don't ever hire your best friend, y'all. They'll drive you up a mountain, and worst of all they'll be so good for business that you can't fire 'em."

Everyone chuckles and Jack slides his arm around you. It's been a few hours and he wants to make sure you aren't too tired. He knows that even though Ginger's technically healed you better than new, he still sees you broken and unconscious when he closes his eyes. "You doin' okay, sugar?" He murmurs in your ear.

"I'm okay." You're a little tired, but all things considered it's a miracle that you feel as good as you do. Grateful just to be on your feet, you lean into Jack's side and smile encouragingly.

"Good." He hums softly. "If you feel tired, you slip away and I will make sure that your family is all tipsy by the time we walk back into the house."

"If I'm tired I'll find some coffee." You promise him quietly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I'm not leaving you alone with this group."

He appreciates that you aren't ready to throw him to the wolves, but as the two of you walk behind them, he lets you lean against him as you stroll. Enjoying the way that you are trusting him.

Diana knows every brick and every blade of grass on this campus, and she’ll tell their stories without reservation. You stay snuggled into Jack’s side as Diana regales your family with stories as the whole group of you slowly make your way through the maze of buildings.

"I bet they are all eager to see your restaurant and the tasting rooms." Jack jokes as he leans into you.

“They’re eager to eat and drink,” you joke back, wishing you felt normal enough to be in that kitchen working with your staff. “Not that I can blame them. A cup of coffee sounds heavenly right now.”

"I don't know how you could be tired." He chuckles quietly. "You managed to sleep most of the day and all night long."

“If you’re gonna tease me about it, I won’t cuddle you tonight.” Wrinkling your nose and forehead at him as determinedly as possible just makes you look silly, but it’s not exactly a serious threat in the first place. Waking up with Jack has been amazing, and you’d hate to give up that privilege.

“Hmmmmm, that sounds like a threat.” Jack hums, smirking at you. “Does that mean I need to tie you to the bed?” The words come out playfully before he realizes you might not appreciate that considering you had been tied to a damn chair and tortured. His face falls and he tightens his hold on you. “Shit– I’m sorry, sugar.”

“It’s okay.” You turn into him completely, hanging on to him tightly as your family follows Diana down the path and you and Jack hang back together for a moment. “It’s okay…you meant…you were teasing. And I love that you tease. But maybe…” It makes you shiver a little, the memories like flashes of a movie in your mind. “Maybe no bondage stuff. For at least a little while.”

“Doesn’t have to ever be a thing if you don’t want, sugar.” He promises you. “I know that it can be tough to get over it. I just didn’t think.” He rubs his hand up and down your back soothingly.

“I used to like it.” But now the specter of what happened hangs over something that used to be pleasurable, and you wonder how many other things might have been accidentally ruined by the Rollins brothers. “I honestly don’t know about it now, though. We’ll have to wait and see, I guess.”

“Therapy.” Jack murmurs quietly, pressing his lips to your forehead. And he knows that if it’s something you never want to do again, he would be okay with that. Your comfort was more important than a kink.

“We should see when the doctor is available.” You tilt your head back to silently ask for a kiss, appreciating the comfort of having him close. He hasn’t left your side except to be in the next room since he brought you back to Kentucky and you’re so grateful.

It’s an easy press of his lips to yours. Keeping it gentle and soft. Still, he keeps his arms around you and breathes you in. “Anytime you want sugar.” He promises. “You want to wait until they have gone home?”

“You still planning on holding out on me like a responsible adult who wants to have open channels of communication before we’re intimate?” The eyebrow you raise at him, even while you’re murmuring quietly, is fully teasing. He’s right to want to make sure you’re talking through things before you start sleeping together. Even if you are already sleeping together in the literal sense.

“Believe me, sugar.” Jack groans quietly, kissing your ear. “I’d rather have had your tight little walls around me instead of my fist in the shower this morning.”

“As-soon-as-possible.” Mumbled together like one long word, your forehead drops to Jack’s shoulder to avoid groaning out loud. “We’re starting therapy as soon as possible.”

He chuckles, the only response he can have in a situation like this. “Of course, sugar. Whenever you want.”

“Oh god.” Your sister’s voice breaks the spell, jostling you and Jack out of your cozy moment. “You’re really in the gross lovey-dovey beginnings stages still, aren’t you?” Like you and Jack teasing each other, she doesn’t mean a word. She’s grinning the whole time and practically giggling behind her dramatic pout. “Come on, Diana says it’s time for tasting and you know nothing is going to keep Dad and Matt away from all that whiskey for long.”

Jack snorts and taps your lip when you start pouting. “We can kiss later, sugar. Right now, let’s go get drunk with your family.”

“Gross.” Eliza snorts, pinching your arm before turning back to trot up the block to promptly kiss her husband and take the baby back from him. The picture of domestic bliss teasing you about having feelings is laughable and both of you know it. “Fiiiiine,” you sigh dramatically to Jack and take his hand instead. “But I’m gonna hold you to that. Save that kiss for later.”

“I have a lot of kisses stored up.” Jack waggles his brows. “Depends on where you want them.”

“Everywhere.” Fingers threading together, you tighten your hand in his. “Absolutely everywhere. Please and thank you.”

“Think my tongue would be a good replacement for my fingers?” He teases. “With your parents in the house?” He gives you a shocked look but his smirk is smug.

“I will make literally anything you want for breakfast tomorrow.” Whatever he wants, because you know that what you want is him.

Jack chuckles and arches a brow at you playfully. “Anything?”

“Anything.” At first you were just playfully bargaining, but now you’re intrigued.

Jack senses that you see it as a challenge and he grins. “Okay, how about aebleskiver?” He asks.

Starting to walk along the path, you raise one very impressed eyebrow at Jack and hum in thought. “Do you have an aebleskiver pan somewhere in that mansion of a house?”

“Maybe?” That Jack doesn’t know but he’s collected a lot of shit from missions over the years.

“If you do, then you’re on.” Loving the fact that he’s willing to be playful, you press a kiss to his cheek and follow your family inside the building at the end of the walkway to the distillery’s tasting rooms.

The taste testing is a supreme success. With Champ there, the normal bottles that are available are quickly shoved aside for some of the more precious liquors Statesman offers. “Show off.” Jack huffs under his breath as Champ produces a bottle of ‘61 double barreled blend.

“Just wantin’ to make sure these fine folks have a good time.” Champ leans back against the bar to survey the room as you and your family enjoy the tasting. He isn’t blind to the fact that you’ve barely had a sip from your early glasses so that you could take the baby from your sister, or that your nephew’s apparent love for popcorn is currently being satiated by his own wife and one of the bartenders who provides snacks in this particular room. Diana is taking delight in sharing a basket of the salty snack with her new little friend. “She seems to be doin’ okay,” he murmurs, not nodding to you because he knows Jack hasn’t taken his eyes off you.

“Stronger than half our agents.” Jack muses, not for the first time. “Damnest thing I’ve ever seen, Champ.”

“Think I should get her to swap jobs?” Champ chuckles softly, not meaning a word of it. He had read the complete report that Jack typed up while sitting beside your pod, as well as Rye’s report and Ginger’s updates on your health. Admittedly he was pretty impressed, but he would never expect Jack to be okay with making you even a junior agent.

“Only if you want to put me in an early grave.” Jack huffs, fully aware of how hypocritical it sounds but he couldn’t take you putting yourself in danger. Hell, he doesn’t want you near a mandoline if there’s the possibility of you getting hurt, though you would fight him on that. “I just hope it’s not a front and she cracks.” Jack admits.

“You’ll keep an eye on her.” He knows Jack well enough to know that he won’t rest for a second if he thinks you might not actually be okay. “Since y’all are getting along so much better now.”

Jack cuts his eyes over to Champ. “Plannin’ on sayin’ ‘told you so’?” He huffs, fully aware of the smirk hidden under Champ’s bushy mustache.

“Do I need to?” He will, of course, at some point when it’s amusing to all present. Today he’s just glad to see you up and laughing with that smile you beam at Jack every now and then.

"No." He rolls his eyes and grumbles under his breath even as he shuffles slightly. He knows now that Champ had been right but damned if he just wants to concede right now.

“I’ll save it for my best man's speech at the wedding.” Champ chuckles, looping his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans.

Jack blows out another huff, wanting to comment that maybe you wouldn’t want to get married but Champ knows that isn’t true. You are the type to want a marriage and whatever else comes with a soulmate.

“Cat got your tongue, Jack?” The chuckle turns to a puckish giggle and Champ claps his best friend on the shoulder. “I’m just happy for ya, is all. You know that.”

“I know.” Above all else, he knows that Champ is in his corner.

“You gonna come back to work soon?” Now that you’re safe and mark-free, Jack is technically free to do that. Champ just wonders if his friend is up to letting you out of his sight.

“At least not until after her grand opening.” Jack frowns as he watches you laugh with your brother and sister, taking another sip of the whiskey you are tasting and debating the different notes they are tasting with them. “You know how it is when you are out in the field. I don’t want to put that on her with her opening so soon.”

“God forbid you get wrapped up in something and miss it.” Champ nods solemnly, knowing it would devastate you if that happened. He’s had enough conversations with his wife to understand how much you care about Jack. He clears his throat though, quietly, wondering how Jack will react to a bit of news. “That kid Kingsman sent us - Yvain? He’s headin’ back to London. Adjustment just didn’t happen, so they’re sendin’ somebody new over.”

Jack frowns, brows knitting together. “They sending the kid back?” He asks, wondering how you would take it now if Tex shows back up. His jaw still aches sometimes but damned if he would ever let him know it. It had been well deserved.

"Yep." The older man doesn't shift, just watches Jack carefully as they talk, with the casual air of someone discussing a shopping list. "With the new Kingsman agent. We're gonna send Bobby over. He's chompin' at the bit to flex his muscles and he's done well overseas." While he isn't thrilled to be sending his only child to a different continent for work, Champ knows that Bobby's future means more than his own comfort does. His boy is bright and clever and deserves the chance to grow.

Jack’s frown deepens slightly, born of his own mistakes and insecurities, but that can’t be helped. The only one who is to blame for Tex having intimate knowledge of you is him. It’s not at all arrogant to believe that if Jack hadn’t played fast and loose with your emotions that you wouldn’t have given the boy a second look. “They’re sendin’ two back?” That surprises him, knowing they are light in manpower. “But Bobby’ll do fine. He’s a good agent. Real good.”

"We're sendin' Yvain and Bobby back, they're sendin' Tex and this gal Isolde." The code names of the Kingsman agents give his lazy Southern tongue a little trouble, but he likes the girl well enough. "Had a call with her this morning. I think she'll fit right in."

“Haven’t seen many that will fit in.” Jack grumbles, still slightly peeved by Galahad shooting him in the fuckin’ head.

"Think you might be glad of this one," Champ shuffles slightly to face Jack. "Seein' as she's the kid's soulmate and all."

A riot of emotions rides over his face as he absorbs the news that Tequila has found his soulmate. Relief being the primary one, hoping that with that discovery, his little crush on Jack's soulmate would settle down. "How did they find that out?" He asks, trying to seem like he is completely casual and not having a mini celebration inside.

"Photos." There's a twist on Champ's lips as he sees Jack's shoulders tense then deliberately relax like he's forcing himself not to have a reaction. "That scar left from his broken arm, back during the rodeo days? He saw it in some old photos of her." Obviously when Tequila had reached agent status the mark had been eliminated from his skin and therefore from hers, as well. In the years since, the boy had nearly forgotten it ever existed. "Accordin' to Eggsy, they're a hell of a team."

“Well that could mean anything.” Jack grumbles. Wondering what this soulmate of his looks like and if he’s good for the kid. Despite his own issues with Tequila honing in on you, he still cared about him.

"We'll find out this weekend." Chuckling over the fact that Jack's protective instincts never waver, Champ shrugs his shoulders and claps him on the shoulder again. "Bobby's goin' away party is Saturday. He'd hate for his Uncle Jack to miss it. Ya hear?"

“Of course.” Jack nods immediately, smirking slightly. “Kid will be disappointed we didn’t get a chance to work together.”

"No way of knowin' what will happen in the future." Better men than them have tried to control it and failed, so Champ is even going to try for a prediction. "For now, though, this is a good choice for him. Let him learn from somebody besides his old man and his uncle. Get a new perspective."

“It’ll be a good thing for the kid.” He chuckles. “Let him get laid without a report goin’ to his old man about it.”

"God help me," Champ huffs, wiping one hand down his face. "I'm hopin' he takes after his mama in that and not you or me."

Jack grins, knowing the boy the is already a lady’s man, even if Champ hasn’t realized it yet. “Hope you don’t take it too hard when you realize he was raised by all of us.”

"Just hopin' he has his mother's brains about it all." Knowing damn well that Bobby Rogers is the same sort of man that he and Jack are, Champ ends up chuckling. "You and I? We talk a big game but we fall head over heels. That woman of mine has such a clear head that I swear she's never even heard of fog."

“She’s smarter than all of us put together, Champ.” Jack jokes. “That ain’t exactly fair.”

"And look at who her best friend is." He's seen other friends come and go from his wife's life over the years. People she could and couldn't be absolutely honest with, people she could or couldn't relate to easily. The only other friend she's ever made so quickly and completely was Ginger. Watching you and Diana laugh and chat together with your family is such a soothing balm over his soul. Champ would give anything to make his wife happy. It was worth it to bring you here for that alone. "She said it's like finally gettin' the little sister she always wanted."

“Oh god.” Jack huffs, rolling his eyes. “That means they are going to gang up on you and in turn that means you gang up on me.”

"Already have." The older man laughs again, shaking his head fondly. While Jack was off being a miserable lump over the last few weeks, Champ had been seeing more and more of you around the house as you and Diana grew closer. "I'm lettin' them hire an event planner to start doin' parties and weddings. Technically it's all part of Diana's domain, but your gal will be doin' the catering out of her restaurant."

Jack muses over the idea for several minutes, remembering how you had talked about just that idea right from the beginning. "Hopefully she doesn't overextend herself and by extension - Diana." He does think you would be fantastic at it though.

"I told 'em they had to hire somebody to do the actual planning." Champ nods, having had the same worry. "Di can work magic on anything, but doin' all the tours and weddings would be too much even for my Wonder Woman. And I know your gal wanted to do these from the beginning, but she was the first one to mention hiring a planner. So it'll work out." He chuckles though, glancing at Jack. "Only question is if it's gonna be you or Tequila that gets married first."

"Shit Champ." Jack huffs, propping his hands on his hips as he contemplates that idea. "Do you know how long it's been since my first weddin'?" He asks, remembering the small, ranch wedding he had with Abigail. He had been so goddamn happy and eager to put a ring on her finger. Still a wet behind the ears virgin who wanted nothing but his soulmate. This time - and he's already admitting there will be a 'this time' - he has no idea how he will feel. He's older, more experienced and still completely out of his depths.

"Yes I do." He knows exactly how long, but he also knows that Jack needed that distance. "And when y'all do decide to make a go of it, we'll all be glad to celebrate with you."

"We are takin' things slow." Jack admits quietly. "I want to go to therapy with her. Because of what happened to her and because of my own shit I dumped on her."

If Champ is surprised, he doesn't let himself show it. He nods, rocking a little on his heels, and leans back against the bar counter behind them. "I'll make sure Doc makes space for you," he promises, lowering his voice a little more to match Jack.

"Thanks." Jack keeps his eyes on you, alert for any signs of fatigue or discomfort. Maybe a little overzealous but it has been less than 36 hours since he had held your limp body in the back of that SUV. "I appreciate that. I know I'm fucked up, have been for a long time but I don't want to hurt her anymore."

"Jack Daniels is a changed man." He can't resist teasing just a little. After all, they are friends. "From emotionless ladies man to considerate and caring partner. Can't say I ain't impressed."

"I've always been considerate." Jack puffs up, offended by that comment. "Considerate enough to let women run while the gettin' was good."

"I said 'considerate and caring partner'," Champ reminds him. "Been a long time since you had a woman who you thought of as an equal, that's all I'm saying. Never meant to imply you had no manners."

"What if I'm not good at it?" Jack's eyes tear away from you for a moment, meeting Champ's watery blue eyes before he looks away in embarrassment again. "Bein' a partner? What if I'm too goddamn bad at it and make her more miserable than she was before?"

"You're not gonna be perfect every single day." He says quietly, shifting so he's imperceptibly closer to his friend and refocusing his attention fully on Jack. "If you try to be perfect you're gonna end up a ticking time bomb of stress and urgency. Do the best you can. Support her. Be there for her. Let yourself love her in the best way you can, and when you fuck something up you make sure you goddamn apologize. And when you don't know what to do? You talk to her. Talk to the doc with her. Can't fix a problem if you don't admit somethin' is broken."

Jack has to admit that Champ gives damn good advice. He knows that even as happy as him and Diana have been over the years, there have been nights where Champ was banished to his couch in his office or Diana wasn’t talkin’ to him. So it’s obviously advice he’s used himself over the years. “I never want her to look that broken ever again.” He doesn’t mean just physically. That was horrible, but nothing could match the horror at seeing the utter defeat in your eyes. The light extinguished, the joy vanquished and luckily it had returned. He never wants to be the cause of it fading again.

"Then you're gonna have to learn to talk without just runnin' your mouth." It makes Champ chuckle a little, and he shrugs one shoulder as he looks back to you with your family - sitting now, watching the baby yawn in the double stroller. "And if you get it figured out, you let me know? I still can't quite get the hang of it, but I'm tryin'."

Jack chuckles and shakes his head, reaching out and slapping his friend’s shoulder. “Be sure to file an after action report as soon as I have mission success.”

Champ's reply is stifled when you turn your head, smiling back at Jack and stifling your own yawn. The man beside him seems to respond instantly and Champ is of no mind to keep him from you. Especially not today.

Jack doesn’t even excuse himself, just pushes off the bar and starts walking over towards you. “I need to get you back.” He murmurs before he looks over at Diana. “Our wonderful tour guide will take you folks out to see the horses, but I’m going to take this one back to the house.”

"Of course." Your mother reacts before anyone else can, watching Jack with you for a moment before looking back to Diana. "Maybe you could recommend someplace for a big group to go for dinner in Louisville? It would be nice to see some of the city while we're here."

"Of course!" Diana cuts in so you don't protest. No one is going to let you cook or play host tonight. Not if you're not up to it. "I'd be glad to give you some recommendations. Let's take the kids to the property line and we can chat?" She puts one hand softly on your shoulder and smiles. "You get some rest, honey."

The caretaking instincts have kicked in, in everyone around you, and you know that you don't have a prayer of winning when they're all dead set on looking after you. "Okay." You nod after a moment. "But I'm just a little tired, that's all. I'm fine."

Jack smiles triumphantly at Diana and your mom before he winds his arm around you. "Come on, sugar. We'll go have us a nap so you can spend some more time with your folks when they get back." He suggests, fingers stroking your skin right at your hip, easing under your shirt automatically so he can feel your warmth.

He gives you enough time to exchange a few hugs before bundling you out the door, and you tuck your hand in his back pocket as you head back toward the neighborhood. "You don't have to lay down with me, Jack, it's okay," you murmur, allowing yourself the chance to lay your head on his shoulder. "Unless my folks have exhausted you. Which I would totally understand."

Jack snorts, aware that he could continue to do whatever for hours but the opportunity to hold you isn’t one he’s willing to give up. “I’m not going to let you nap without me.” He pouts at you playfully.

"Afraid I'll leave your sheets smelling like me?" You tease, raising your head to smirk at him. As slow as you've agreed to move, there doesn't seem to be any shortage of attraction between you. Thank goodness for that.

He chuckles and holds you just a little tighter. “More like I don’t want you to be lonely in that big bed all by yourself.”

"Mmm." If you tried to claim that you wouldn't be, it would be an awful lie. "We shouldn't sleep too long, though. If they're going to go out to eat, we should think about dinner, too."

The chuckle that escapes his lips is filthy but he nods. “Baby, I’ll be perfectly happy making a sandwich for you.”

"You're not gonna let me lift a finger, are you?" Sure you smirk at the suggestiveness in his laugh, but you just pat his ass with the hand that is tucked into his back pocket.

“Are you going to complain?” He asks, lifting his brow at you. “You don’t want me spoiling you right now and taking care of you?”

"I'm not complaining at all." You shake your head, searching his face to make sure he's just teasing and not upset at all. You had seen him talking to Champ but couldn't hear what they were talking about. "I just...I don't want you to feel like you have to take care of me. I can always curl up on the couch or grab myself something to eat if you have other things to do."

“I have nowhere else that is more important than being right here.” The worry that you’re feeling smothered hits him and he looks back at you seriously. “Unless you need some time to yourself? You need me get lost for awhile, sugar?”

"No." As if to prove it, you squeeze him tighter to your side. "I just didn't know if Champ was talking to you about work or something." Looking up at him, it's easy to tell that you're both worried in different ways. "I want to spend time with you, Jack. But if you have work to do, I don't want to keep you from me. I'm a big girl with plenty of patience."

"I'm not plannin' on going back out into the field until after your big openin'." Jack admits with a small shrug of his shoulders. "I want to make sure we have time for a few good sessions with the doc before anything."

“Really?” Despite how well you’ve been doing this last day and a half or so, you really did expect Jack to run for the field as soon as he was able. It’s been his whole life - why would you ever think he would do otherwise? “Well,” you offer him a shy smile. “I can’t say I’m upset about that.”

"Listen, sugar." Jack stops in the middle of the gravel path that leads towards the employee housing and takes a hold of your shoulders gently. "I know that I've acted like a horse's ass, but I–" he sighs and tries again. "I want to be here for things that are important to you, and I want to make sure that you are good before I step back into the field." He rubs your shoulders gently. "I love you, sugar."

“I love you, too.” Since the shock of hearing him say it for the very first time yesterday, this time it warms you through and seeps into your bones with comfort as you put your arms around him. “And I’m grateful that you want to be home with me while we’re working up to the opening. Just like I’m grateful that you’re spending time with my family and having us at your place.” He watches you intently, you’ve found, and you keep your arms around him. “I guess I just want to make sure that you’re taking care of yourself as well as you’re taking care of me.”

"I'm getting used to...to caring about someone like this again." Jack admits quietly. "It’s different than caring about the people I work with or friends. But I don't mind it."

“There’s no rush.” No matter what, you’re always going to want to give him the respect and support he deserves, which means letting him come to this at his own pace. “If you want to coexist and spend all that free time together? Baby, I’m in. But I’m not going to be offended if you’re the kind of person who needs alone time to recharge.” Placing a kiss on the tip of his nose, you smile softly and lean into his arms. “We’re still learning about each other, but I love what I’m learning.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to disappear.” The words slip out of his mouth unbidden, and he wishes he could take them back. It’s a fear, a real one. That if he takes his eyes off you for a second you will be in danger or worse again.

Frowning, you pull back again and search his face. “What do you mean?”

“I–” Jack reaches up and runs his hand over your hair and down your back. “She asked me to go to the store that day.” He admits quietly. “When she realized she forgot the candles. But I was fuckin’ with the grill. We were havin’ the boys come up from the bunk house for a barbecue and cake and beer.” He shakes his head, reminding himself that he wasn’t to blame. If it hadn’t been that day, Rollins would have found another day to ruin his life. “I let her out of my sight and she died. I pushed you away and let you out of my sight and Rollins got his claws into you. Tried to take you from me too.” He leans forward and presses his head against yours again. “Only thing I can think of right now is that as long as I have you near me, you’re safe.”

“Oh honey…” Instantly tightening your arms around him, you press a reassuring kiss to Jack’s lips and hold onto him for a long moment. “I’m sorry. You keep your eagle eye on me for as long as you need to feel better, okay? I’m not going anywhere with you for at least the next few days. And if next week you want to come and make yourself useful at the restaurant while we get ready to open, you’re more than welcome. Just—” Your hand gently cups his cheek and brushes over the stubble on his jaw. “You saved me, Jack. You did. And Rollins is gone forever. You did that for me and for her.”

“Tiny little pieces.” Jack reminds himself quietly. “He’ll never hurt you again, sugar.”

“Why don’t you take me home so we can have that nap?” It makes sense why he doesn’t even let you sleep without him curled around you, knowing now that he’s working through fears of his own. You would never criticize him for not. Not in a million years. “We can make some sandwiches for dinner when we wake up, and see what everybody is feeling up to when my family gets back tonight?”

“I can light a fire in the outdoor fireplace.” Because his house is larger, his back yard is larger too. He had let Diana create a relaxing atmosphere out there with Adirondack chairs and stringed lights around the stone fireplace.

“Sounds perfect.” You start to walk again, arms around each other with your pace at a stroll. “Fair warning, though. My mom’s already figured out what part of your yard would make the perfect place for me to plant a garden.”

Jack laughs and the tension he hadn’t realized he had been holding in his shoulders about why he is hovering. Or the tension about how you would react to it. “Raised beds or no?”

You nod, laughing with him as you turn the corner into your neighborhood. “Raised beds for some of it, to create contrast. I swear, that woman is where I get my planning genes from. I bet if you asked her tonight she’ll have the whole thing mapped in her head.”

“Well, when you want to get planting, you let me know.” Jack muses. He doesn’t use the back yard for much and if you wanted to grow things, it would be yours to use.

“I’m not gonna take over your yard, honey.” If you lived together it would be one thing. It would at least be a conversation to have. But it’s very nice of him to be so open and welcoming. “I’m just saying it would be a chat that would make my mom happy.”

He snorts. “I hardly ever go back there.” He tells you. “If you wanted to put a pool in there, I wouldn’t care. Though I might use it then.”

As you turn the corner off the main street to head toward his house, you shrug slightly. Is not a big deal, and it shouldn’t matter. But here you are being shy about it. “It’s still your house,” you remind him. “If it were like months or even years from now and we were living together, that would be different. But this is your personal space.”

“Maybe it won’t be my personal space soon.” Jack muses. “Your little cabin is smaller than mine and we do have two agents coming in.” He says it casually, like it’s not a big deal. “It wouldn’t be much different from the last two days.”

“Did you j—” Stopping dead in the middle of the sidewalk in front of his large house, you’re practically gaping at him for how casually he just tossed out the option like he was saying you should have BLTs for dinner while your heart pounds a mile a minute. “You want us to live together?”

Jack stops and turns back towards you, slightly uneasy. “You don’t have to. I know it’s a step. A big one. But don’t feel like I’m pushing.”

“No, I do!” You blurt out, flustering at how quickly you jump on the invitation once you realize it’s sincere. It feels like your chest could burst from the happy way your heart swells and you reach forward to grab his hand again. “You’re not pushing. You’re offering. I’m just…” You exhale softly, looking embarrassed. “I’m still getting used to the idea that you want me — that you love me — the same way I love you.”

“I understand.” Jack does, and he’s grateful that you are as compassionate as you are. Otherwise he would have been out on his ass. “I spent plenty of time loudly telling you that I didn’t. I don’t expect you to – I guess understand – right away.”

“How about we make this something that we talk to the doc about?” You step closer to him to put your arm through his and start to lead him up the walk to his own front door. “In the meantime, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I wanted to accept without thinking.” It’s silly to admit, but having him be so open and eager is like a balm for your soul. “So what would you think about having an extended slumber party for a while? Even after my parents are gone. Like a trial run?”

“I was planning on that anyway.” Jack admits with a grin. “The only way you are sleeping alone is if you lock the door or when I go back to the field.” He doesn’t mention that he has dreamed about how you looked on that floor several times.

“Hmmm.” The shrewd hum through your lips is just a cover so you don’t giggle in delight, and you walk up to the front door with him arm in arm. “You’re gonna have to have my thumb print added to your front door scanner.”

“Done, sugar.” Jack grins. “You did say you wanted to cook in my kitchen.”

“Got any other surprises for me while we’re at it?” He pushes inside and you follow him, letting that buoying feeling of joy float through you.

Jack bites his lip and considers not mentioning it, but he doesn’t think that would go over well. “What Champ and I were talking about…Tex is coming back. Apparently his banishment is over.”

"Oh?" It smacks your system with a hit of anxiety, knowing that the whole situation was over you and how poorly all three of you handled it. "Soon...or? Have you talked to him since he left?" Just because he hadn't reached out to you – or answered any of your texts – doesn't mean he hasn't spoken to anyone else.

“He’ll be here this weekend.” Jack tells you. “I haven’t talked to him, but I don’t know if he’s forgiven me yet. He–” Jack wipes his hands on his jeans. “He apparently found his soulmate over there. She’s an agent too. She’s coming back with ‘im.”

“Well…that’s great, isn’t it?” The door shuts behind you and you keep moving automatically, up toward the master bedroom. Though you don’t really feel like napping anymore. “Hopefully that should…it should make things easier for all of us. To be able to put what happened behind us.”

“I don’t– I’m not jealous of what happened.” Jack grunts at his own lie. “I mean, I am, but it’s because of myself. I don’t judge you for being with the boy. I practically set that up, bein’ a dumbass.”

“If you judged me for a relationship I had when I was single, we would be having a whole other conversation.” At the top of the stairs he turns left and you stick to his side without hesitation. “But like I said, that’s in the past. And whoever his soulmate is, I hope he’s head over heels and exceedingly happy.” You flash him a smile that clearly says: like I am.

“I know.” Jack grins back at you. “Just want you to know I’m not going to act like a bull during mating season. I won’t try to keep you from being friendly or anything.”

“That’s a very vivid image you paint there, babe.” You can’t help but laugh, and flop down on Jack’s enormous bed with a sigh. “Because I do want to be friends with him, and I know you two are close too. I don’t want to be the reason that that ended.”

“Nah, it’ll take more than a puny punch to the jaw for me to stop saving the fool’s ass in the field and keeping him out of trouble when we’re at home.” Jack jokes with a wink as he peels off his blazer and starts to unbutton his shirt. “You gonna get comfortable, sugar or are you gonna watch?”

“I’m not gonna deny that I like the view.” Despite raising one playful eyebrow at him, you shift on the bed to pull off your boots, socks, and jeans first.

“Mmmhm.” You yawn again and he chuckles. Your reaction to the chamber was being sleepy. It wasn’t a bad thing but it does take a few days to get back to normal, according to Ginger.

“It’s a good view.” Your bra joins the small pile of your clothes in the bedside table so you can sleep in your panties and t-shirt. “You gonna nap with me, handsome? Or just snuggle?”

“Probably just snuggle.” He admits, not that he has any problem with that. He could hold you and be perfectly rested.

“Okay.” The two of you climb under the blankets together and you sigh contentedly when he opens his arms for you to get comfortable in the circle of their security. “Snuggles are good.”

“Yes they are sugar.” Jack kisses the crown of your head and sighs, breathing you in and reminding himself that you are here. That he needs to relax and not believe that every time he looks away something bad is going to happen. “Get some rest. I’ll be right here.”

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle

DtRH: @haileymorelikestupid @spishsstuff @missmarmaladeth @axshadows @a-gay-cryptid @sgt-morgan @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @flowers4copper @ghost-timelord @the0racl30fd3lphidos @all-the-way-down-here @bobafvcker @ficsbynight @dinoflower @supernaturalgirl20 @xdaddysprincessxx @bobawh0re @amiee-mitch18 @darkhairedmenrule @heyyimlaynna @strawberry-f4iry @3zm33atzbuss33 @whataghost @cyber666slut @nobody-000 @eddiemunsonsgirlfriendirl @lucciolaraven @powergirlsupremacy @secondsistershelby @dreadmars @androgynoushellscape @soytomatecherry @cheesecake-massacre @mylifeisbasedonashow @idiotickiddo @tomfeltonisbae @maratheidiot22 @im-nada @everybirdfellsilent @deepdarkdelights @brokenwhitegirl384 @ur-honey-child @caseket @copperrose15 @we-could-have-been @valkyries-ride @scarletmunson @strawberriricemilk @ghost-timelord @galactigoos @floridawaters @cutiepie6473 @pinball-vance @theslytherinwriter @scorpioswonder @stankyleg05 @fxdsketches @sad-innit @coffeyorky @1a-ma1a-su3rt3 @starlordsonlywife @aura626 @mistresskei @marv3lwhor3 @sadimusprimee @yourwonderbelle @sgt-morgan @spot116 @milybaby018 @loserk1nks @artfulthoughtswp @aavw @babyrunsforfanfic @faceache111 @midnight-huntress @asimpleraccoonqueen @marki-moo0 @pages89 @rawr-bitches @rebel-fanfare @soooosha @luna-is-out-there @im-sylien @timpletance @certifiedhunter @ellenmunn @littlethief78 @tinalbion @eddy-y @tikibabi @whyidkok @bearcoon1666 @littlebirdsbookshelf @a-gay-cryptid @disaster-ahaha @viridiesa @axshadows @purplerain04 @karmarouge @holycyclehomo @sainteredhood @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @the-wishmonger @theliferuiner @raptorclaw24 @asp1r1ngm1lf @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @st4rl1ght444 @litholithium @tusk89 @youjustneedatherapist @nekodemon73 @iceclaw101 @lightningsface @shakespeareanwannabe @jasminemunson @spideysimpossiblegirl @wannabedaphne @sammus-white @jazzieomega @88dragon06 @ishabull @raquel-rial @tuquoquebrute @hotleaf-juice @dantaku @youokhoney @thisiswhyibleedsstuff @maximumkryptonitegladiator @jediknight122 @gadsgikklesen @movievillainess721 @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @the-strawberrythief @spishsstuff @choppedmugjudgeplaid @haileymorelikestupid @gooddaykate @missredherring @abyssal-zone-stares-back @supernaturalgirl @winterandstars @severewobblerlightdragon @missmarmaladeth @noisynaia @saintbedelia @algressman16 @eaks0710 @mina2000alex @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @akaleelanie @mishasminion360 @amneris21 @roxypeanut @lunarcatbun 118 @frasmotic @emdraws02 @universallyclodlawyerpainter @rayrayvan @lovelychaos420 @1432690 @no1pornstachefan @thegrimreaperbitch @esmeensheep @izz-ayes-world @kittycatcait219 @loveyou3000tonystark @tintinn16 @igenerallytrynottogiveagoshdarn @motheroftorches @phoenixhalliwell @the-dazzling-urbanite @coffeyorky @trickstersp8 @victorian-cherub @julissadunn @clarysthing @the-girl-that-loves-many-fandoms @mastersurf @theghostofutopia @ncsls0515 @seraphinaivy @hiyorinatsuki @ghostofaboy @yn-hamato @elfwriter1088 @sunnygrey99 @lexinicolenix @lazyemisfandomtrash @curiouskeyboard @qualityearthquakes @spider-284748 @unnecesarysstuff @sgt-morgan @love-affair-with-fandoms @lunarcatbun @kstar770 @kykymarty @supergingerlocks @hell0kittybimb0222 @a-birds-fin @loidforgerishotashell @mythical-writer @ghostshalo @avengersimaginesfan @sccialcasualty @lordecult @petalo-dropsart @i-quite-like-eating-carrots @svudetective @hasta-la-pasta-bb @manicpixiedreamgirly @destinydog @skeppycarnation @anaisweird @critters-beware @fruityforcocoapuffs @linnnniie @spideyromantic @paupeach2024 @faithxyu @fxramir @legomyeggo @jjggdfvvy @hi-my-name-is-riley @kasaikawa @lost-ghost-thats-sleepy @callmegkiddo @2dead2function @generallysleepdeprived @failingclassesinmygucciglasses @thebeesknees42 @moonmoon007 @wi0na @cilliansangel @lostinsideourminds @angstismydrug @elvenmother @bilibiche @kettlekatie @preschoolispunk @djarinsstuff @generallysleepdeprived @love-affair-with-fandoms @jay-ghostly @wowieitbeme @fanofverymanythings @josephquinnswhore @this-harl0t-shant-be-unalive @djarinsstuff @justherebecausesafarisucks @cedricbitch @rebel-soldat @madisonred88

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Jack Daniels #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x you #Jack Daniels x female reader #Jack Whiskey Daniels #Agent Whiskey #Kingsman Golden Circle #soulmate au

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peachesofteal · 2 years

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Dead Disco / Chapter 2

Chapter two of Dead Disco

Simon Riley/John MacTavish/female reader 2.8k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI (no smut but it's inferred), feelings of fear and anxiety, depression, alcohol use, brief mention of eating/food issues, fluff, relationship issues, angst, could be considered toxic, established throuple. The guys discover you're gone.

Johnny is tired. He’s been away from home for thirty-seven days, thirty-seven long days of trekking through a jungle and hiding out in small towns, thirty-seven days of trying to ferry a diplomat’s kid from one border to another, thirty-seven days of heavy fire and artillery bombing. Thirty-seven days of fleeting touches, stolen kisses, all while being unable to feel Simon’s body against his own. Thirty-seven days of missing you.

His eyes dart around the hangar, checking for stragglers or watchful gazes. When he’s satisfied, he moves towards the driver’s side door, to where Simon is standing, arms already extended in wait.

“We’re home.” Johnny breathes, molding himself into the warmth of Simon’s body.

“Almost.” The answer is gruff, but his grip is unyielding, uneager to let Johnny go, head bowed forward, cheek resting atop the dirty scruff of the mohawk. He’s still wearing the balaclava, will still be wearing it until they get into the flat and the doors are locked, but for now, they both take what they can get. Simon tosses each bag into the back of the car, eyes pinching sour with discomfort. It’s his back again, Johnny silently hopes that the comfort of their own bed would help alleviate some of the pressure on his spine. Those awful bedrolls were rough for everyone, but especially someone as big as his partner.

“Shuid get goin’.” His mind is already wandering to you and how you’re faring. Your absence chafes them, and it’s obvious now when they’re together that something is missing, that they’re lacking a part of their connection, missing their lost puzzle piece. It wears on them during deployments, causing their tempers to string tight and worry to settle in the back of their minds. Guilt burns in the pit of Johnny’s stomach when he remembers how uncertain, how stressed you’d been when he had promised, promised, you that it would be two weeks or less.

“Dinnae worry, yeah? Back before you know it.” you wrap your arms around his waist, face pressing to his shoulder with a deep sigh. He hated this. Every time, it got harder and harder.

“Okay.” The word is mumbled into his shirt, and he runs a hand over your hair soothingly. The sound of a duffel being dropped on the floor pulls your eyes, arm reaching for its owner, your fingers grasping onto the strings of Simon’s hoodie until he's there too, broad chest pressed to your back, the balaclava twisted in his grip. T-minus ten minutes until Simon was gone and Ghost was on point, so Johnny soaked up every second, you between them, right where you fit perfectly, Simon’s warm palm resting just at the top of his spine, the rhythm of being together, feeling safe, feeling whole.

Seconds turned into minutes, and then Simon was pulling away, dragging you with him to press a kiss to your lips before picking up the bag.

“Be good.” He says with a pointed look, and Johnny fights a chuckle. “And keep the terrace door locked.” You roll your eyes, playful spirit peeking through from underneath your worry.

“Yes Simon.”

“We’ll see you soon.” Johnny wraps his arms around you one last time, meeting your mouth with his, slipping into the comfort of home one last time before regretfully stepping away.

He couldn’t wait to lay his eyes on you, couldn’t wait to strip the balaclava from Simon’s face, couldn’t wait to take a shower and feel the heat of your body, the silk of your skin.

He glanced at the digital read out of the time as Simon turned the key in the ignition and huffed in frustration.

“It’s late.”

“She’ll be asleep. Don’t wake ‘er this time.” Simon warned, and he scoffed. He didn’t intentionally wake you last time, you had blinked your eyes open when you felt them fall into bed, and he seized the opportunity. He couldn’t help it; he had missed you too much. And while Simon might be content to just pull your sleeping form against his body and hold you there, Johnny had to hear your voice.

“Hi.” You blink blearily at him, fingers groping blindly along his stomach in the dark. “You’re wet.”

“Had ta shower.” You shift, turning onto your side.

“Without me?”

“It’s two in the morning, darling.” He hums and you yawn in response.

“Simon?” your voice was more acutely aware now, and he knew it was because you were making sure. Checking off the list, verifying that they’d both come back. To you.

“I’m here, love.”

“Mmph.” You murmur. “Missed you.” your face found Johnny’s neck, lips soft on his collarbone, while Simon slid all the way over, molding himself around your back, an arm resting gently across your two bodies.

“We missed you too.” Johnny whispers, body relaxing for the first time in weeks, muscles going loose and his brain going quiet. It was good to be home.

“We could take her out tomorrow. She’d like that.”

“Maybe on Thursday, dependin’ on how she’s feeling. I’m not plannin’ on leaving that bed for at least twenty-four hours. And neither are you, MacTavish.” Heat licked up his spine, settling in his belly while the city flashed by the windows, while he wonders how upset you are, if you’re going to be barking mad at them, or just sad, the way you get sometimes when they have to ease you back into their affection, when they have to break down the armor that grows in layers upon layers when they’re away.

“Too long, it’s been too long.” He expects Simon to agree with him, say something reassuring like he usually does, but he doesn’t respond, and Johnny looks to where he’s splitting his attention between the screen of his phone and the road. “What is it?”

“Darling?” Simon calls through the flat, while Johnny shucks his shoes and coat at the door. It’s only eight, still early in the night, and they’re surprised when you pad out of the bedroom in your pajamas, eyes red from crying, straight into Johnny’s arms.

“What’s wrong?” he asks when you bury your nose in his chest, Simon standing on your side, gently rubbing your back, concern in his eyes. “Love, what is it?” he pulls back to get a glimpse of your face.

“Had a bad dream.” You mumble into him, and he holds you a little tighter, Simon leaning into the two of you to press his mouth to the top of your head in a kiss. He taps his fingers down your cheek to draw your attention back up to his face, and that’s when he notices.

How dry your skin is. How cracked your lips are. The circles under your eyes, the hunch in your shoulders. He looks up at Simon over your head, who gives him a swift a nod, and pulls you away and into his own arms.

“What do you think… about gettin’ in the shower with me?” He hears Simon coaxing you into the bathroom while he flings open cabinets in the kitchen, looking for your water bottle. When he gets to the fridge, he swallows a groan. It’s practically empty, only harboring the usual collection of condiments, some cheese, a few avocados. But no leftovers, no meals, no protein. Your usual overflowing bounty of green things is missing. None of the kiwis that you insist on buying every single time anyone goes to the supermarket. Nothing to indicate you had been eating.

What have you been doing?

The flat is dark. Your sweater doesn’t hang on the hooks by the door, your shoes aren’t lined up neatly in the closet. The giant fleece blanket that you always insist on everyone cuddling underneath during movie nights is gone.

The framed picture of the three of you, the one that sits on the little table in the hallway, is facedown.

The bed is made, all six pillows stacked neatly at the top of the mattress, sheets and comforter tucked into the bottom just how Johnny always makes it. Your little jewelry dish that occupies the top of the dresser is gone.

Some of your clothes still rest on hangers. Your favorite robe is still draped over the tub in the bathroom. Your tea collection is still stacked neatly in the cupboard.

A single silver key sits on the island.

Johnny feels like he can’t breathe. He feels like he’s grieving.

Simon doesn’t speak either. He just stands in the kitchen, lost in thought, knuckles white.

He loves you. Simon loves you. How could you just leave?

He reads the infuriating email over and over again. Four sentences. Not even a proper goodbye.

Hey,

I’m sorry. I left. The key is on the island. I locked the front door.

-Darling.

“It’s a week and a half old.” Simon breaks the silence. “She sent it a week and a half ago, could be anywhere now.”

“What if something is wrong.” He wants to deny it. Wants to ignore the reality, the sinking feeling dragging him down, fingers grasping tight to Simon’s as he gulps. “What if…”

“It would be near impossible to find this place, love.” Simon says gently. He’s right. Of course, he’s right. The title is in the name of a shell company. The mortgage was paid in cash. No one would know who it belongs to unless…

“What if we had a tail? And we didn’t know… and we led them right to her.” Simon visibly stiffens next to him. It’s a slim chance. The probability of the two of them not seeing a tail is extremely low.

“Call her.” Simon orders and Johnny’s hand trembles as he pulls the contact up and dials.

It rings, and rings, and rings.

“Be patient, Johnny.” Simon murmurs in his ear, breath warm against his skin, the smell of Kentucky bourbon washing over the two of them.

“What if she says no.” Simon grasps his chin with two fingers and pulls him in for a kiss.

“No one could say no to you.” They both turn to look at you, slippers on, Simon’s giant t shirt falling to your thighs. You’ve got a wooden spoon in your palm, face leaning over a giant pot of red sauce that you made from scratch. You’re singing to yourself, happily, quietly, but your smile falters when you look up at realize they’re watching you.

“What is it?”

“Nothing.” He says, a little too quickly, and can feel the groan building in Simon’s chest. You frown.

“Ooookay.” You do that thing where you drag the ‘o’ out really long, like you don’t believe him.

“We want to ask you something.” Simon jumps in, disregarding his previous advice since Johnny has gone and spooked you. Your eyes go wide.

“What?” you ask warily.

“We want you to move in with us. Officially.” Johnny blurts, too excited. “You’re here five nights a week, anyway, yeah?” You nod, holding the spoon upright, eyes flicking back and forth between them.

“Really?” He doesn’t miss the doubt in your voice but chooses to blow by it. “But… this is your place, I don’t really like, fit here.”

“Of course you do.” Simon assures you. Johnny pulls you into his arms, leaning back against the counter.

“We don’t wanna be without you, darling.” He combs some hair away from your face, and then licks the spoon, earning him one of your amused giggles.

“You don’t have to decide right now.” Simon says, tempering Johnny’s enthusiasm, and you nod.

“Okay. I’ll think about it.”

“Anything for last call?” The bartender taps the wood with a knuckle, and you motion to your half empty beer.

“I’ll take one more, thanks.” The bottle leaves a little ring on the bartop, sticky and wet, shining in the muted light of the mostly empty room. It’s a place with no windows, black laminate floors, neon beer signs flickering on the walls. It smells in here, like stale cigarettes and cheap beer, but you don’t hate it, and it beats going back to your empty hotel room, with the giant empty bed, and the quiet empty hallway.

If the bartender notices your appearance, he keeps quiet about it. If he realizes you haven’t washed your hair, or your face, he doesn’t say anything. All he does is nod to the fifty pound note that you’ve kept sitting in front of you, placing another neat pour of bourbon next to your fresh beer.

It’s the good kind, Kentucky. The kind Johnny wrinkles his nose at. The kind Simon loves. You squeeze the lime into the mouth of the bottle, sticky, sour juice squirting all over your fingers that you pop between your lips and lick clean, one by one, before downing the amber liquid in one swallow.

The hotel bed is a king. Not a California, like the one in the apartment, but it feels just as big with only your body in it. You sprawl in the middle of it like a starfish, trying to feel for the edges, only to come up short. It’s disconcerting, you realize. The feeling of being alone like this, not waiting, not wondering what time the key is going to click in the lock. It’s been over a week, and the uneasy feeling has still not passed. Weren’t you supposed to feel good? Wasn’t this what you wanted? You couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat, couldn’t do anything.

You missed them.

You missed them so much; it was hurting you. It felt like a charred hole had formed in your heart, panic and despair leaking through your body.

It had sent you down a dark path, an endless rabbit hole that just got worse and worse as time went on.

So, instead of feeling the full force of it, instead of accepting your fate, you daydream, indulging in a made-up fantasy where they find you, track you down and drag you home. Where they’re standing on the other side of the hotel room door, begging you to come back, pulling you into their arms.

It's just a fantasy. They’re not coming for you, you know that. They have each other. They don’t need an accessory to survive, or even be happy. They don’t need you.

You’re on the verge of drifting into restless sleep when your phone vibrates, somewhere in the down comforter.

You don’t have to look at the caller ID to know who it is.

You knew they’d call when they got home, when they realized you were gone.

You honestly didn’t expect it to be so long, the idea that they got held up somewhere, ran into trouble making your stomach flip. What if one of them is hurt? What if they need you?

No. No, you’re going to be strong. You are NOT answering that phone.

The vibrations cease. You let out the whoosh of breath you’ve been holding.

The vibrations start again.

Your heart clenches in your chest.

Come find me. Come get me and bring me home.

No. No, you’re strong. You don’t need them; you don’t need this.

Don’t answer it. Don’t answer it. Don’t-

Your thumb hits the green button.

“Hello?” The other end of the phone is silent, and then two voices talk over one another for a second before going quiet.

“Bloody hell. Where are you, darling… are you alright? Are ya hurt?” It’s Simon’s voice, raspy in the background. You swallow.

“I’m… I’m fine.”

“Where are ye?” Johnny sounds closer, and you hold your breath.

“I… I’m okay. I’m at a hotel.” Guilt swarms you. Of course. They’re worried something happened to you. “I’m s-sorry.” Come get me, you want to scream, come get me and never leave again. Nobody speaks, and then you hear the muffled sound of a conversation. A terse back and forth before Simon is speaking into your ear.

“Tell us where you are, yeah?”

The knock on the door is loud, and you stand on the other side, hesitant.

Why are you doing this?

The knock comes louder this time.

Don’t be weak. You left, remember? You left for a reason.

You crack the door. Simon’s arms are crossed, and you can’t place the expression on his face, the balaclava obstructing the lines of his mouth that you’re so used to reading.

Johnny, on the other hand, looks torn between being on the verge of tears, and pissed. His hand darts out between the door and the frame, pushing it wider and bringing you into full view. The anger drains from his face within a second. Embarrassment curdles in your stomach. You look like a fucking mess.

“Oh, love.” He whispers, eyes softening. Fuck, don’t cry. Keep it together.

“Hi.”

“Let us in.” Simon demands from behind him, and you chew on your lip. “Please. Whatever it is, we can fix it darling. Just let us in.” He gentles his tone, and Johnny reaches for your hand that’s gripping the door handle.

You’re stepping aside before you even realize what’s happening.

Gee, way to stick to your guns.

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iliterallydecepticanteven · 11 months

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Happy Wednesday, here's the first part of a little TFA Shockblurr fic I'm working on with Strika & Lugnut acting as running commentary.

💜💜💜

"Permission to kill Sentinel Prime?"

Strika sighs heavily. "Unfortunately, permission denied."

Shockwave just replies with a discontent hum.

"Trust me, if he was in line for the smelting pit, I would've tossed him in already," Strika reassures him as she glances up from her datapad.

Shockwave is seated in the chair across from her, clearly irate. Not everyone could decipher his emotions, but she had been stuck dealing with him for many millennia, so she could read him like a datapad now. His shoulders were tense, his posture was irregularly proper, his servos were clenched together tightly, and he was staring down the door of the meeting room.

Shockwave was, to put it simply, pissed off.

Lugnut picked up on it as well but made no comment. He was unusually silent sitting beside his conjunx, shuffling between datapads and muttering about next steps.

The meeting hadn't gone well, in part due to the fight that Sentinel Prime and Blurr had gotten into. Strika had just sat back and watched, letting the two yell at each other to their sparks content. They clearly didn't like each other and their issues came from before the ceasefire got called so it wasn't any of her concern. Eventually Blurr had given up, thrown a datapad at Sentinel, and left in a huff. Sentinel had followed after him, still shouting at the mech.

Strika had excused everyone else, who had all been sitting there, the Decepticons watching in surprise and delight while the Autobots watched with a familiar resignation like this was as normal as a sunrise. The only occupants left were herself, her conjunx, and Shockwave.

"What a mess," she sighs. She looks over at Shockwave who is still staring at the door. "Did you get anything from this meeting? Or do I have to call another?"

"I'll handle the makeup meeting, general," Shockwave says, finally turning from the door and relaxing his posture.

She has to bite her glossa to keep herself from looking surprised. Shockwave didn't usually do such matters. He preferred to work on his own, alone, and without others. The only one he obeyed was Megatron, no matter how much higher in rank the one giving orders was.

She just nods and says, "Very well. I appreciate you taking the initiative."

Shockwave nods and leaves without another word. Another odd behavior, as he usually took every chance he got to insult Lugnut. Strika even had a datapad ready and nearby to throw at his helm in retaliation.

She just shakes her helm and turns back to the report before her. Silence persists for a few clicks before Lugnut says, "Shockwave is infatuated with that puny skinny Autobot."

"No he's not," Strika answers immediately. Because of course he's not. Shockwave is the Decepticon Army's perfect soldier. Unwavering loyalty, went deep undercover for millennia without a single complaint, and obeys orders without a second thought for his own wellbeing. Of course he wouldn't be interested in an Autobot.

"My terror, I believe he is," Lugnut insists, turning to look at his conjunx. There is also the other side of denying his claim, which is that Lugnut is terrifyingly good at predicting things. Strika thinks it's more dumb luck and less skill, but he's been right so many times she has trouble denying it.

"What, the little scrawny blue one?" she asks. When he nods, she scoffs, "The one who tried to kill him when they reunited?"

That was a fun solar cycle. Optimus announced he'd be getting more Autobots to aid them in fighting off the Quintessons. Strika hadn't thought anything of it, too busy repairing the engine of her ship. She only knew they had arrived when she heard screaming coming from one of the hangars.

She'd run into quite a scene: Shockwave, pinned to the floor by the tiny Autobot Blurr, bleeding from various slash wounds, Blurr holding a knife to Shockwave's central line, Optimus trying to pry Blurr away, and Shockwave and his little attacker screaming insults at each other. She had intervened and gotten Shockwave to his pedes before demanding answer from everyone involved.

Shockwave had technically and almost killed Blurr and Blurr wanted revenge. Which she should honestly want. After all, Shockwave was a huge pain in her aft.

But he was also an amazing intelligence agent. So she had let them both off with warnings, threatening to rip their spinal struts out with her bare servos should they continue to fight.

And that was that.

Until now.

"Yes, but perhaps that will make their bond stronger! We also once tried to annihilate each other," Lugnut replies.

"That was different. We were both stuck in gladiatorial contracts. These two have a choice to avoid each other and not kill each other," Strika says.

#i didnt check this for spelling or grammar because im tired #so if you see any of that uhhhhh no you didnt #tfa #transformers animated #shockblurr #Shockwave #Strika #lugnut #my writing

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dumbbitchenergy17 · 1 year

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Clan of Three - Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen: The Mines of Mandalore

Plot: A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers and a heavy role to bear. Now reunited their journeys across the galaxy are just beginning to complete their final mission.

Word Count: 5.5K

Pairing: Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Warnings: some wholesome moments, light violence/blood, Din being such a father

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The Boonta Eve is in full swing the festivities fill the streets of Mos Eisley as you fly through your home planet. Reaching the familiar hangar both you and Din land and you see Peli watching a wide grin on her face as both of your canopies open. “Whoohoo! You hear that? She’s purring like a nuzzle shrew.” Peli says

“No complaints. Still faster than I know what to do with.” Din comments and Peli laughs, “Well, I’ll tune her up, just the same. So, uh, where’s my guy?” Grogu perks up from his small port before worming his way to Din’s seat.

“Huh? There he is!” With a leap and flip in the air, he’s caught by the mechanic that exclaims in glee, “Now who taught you how to leap like a Lurmen, huh?” Both you and Din climb out of your ships as Grogu babbles at Peli.

“Was that his first word? I think he’s talking to me. Did you hear that? He said Peli.”

“We’re here on business.” Din says and Peli moves the child to her hip as she leads you further into the hangar, “Oh, are the Hutts back? Are you takin’ out Boba Fett?” She asks and Din shakes his head,

“I need a droid part.” Peli groans before turning to her pit droids, “Ugh. Boring! Hey, get the Jawas back in here before they hit the cantina. You know how Mos Eisley gets during Boonta week.” She makes a drunken impression and you smirk.

“Oh, I know my share of Boonta week.” You say, a holiday celebrated during your childhood your parents taking you to watch the pod-racing but during your time as an orphan using that time to get your latest coin and item to trade off with Jawas. Many aristocrats and wealthy figures would make appearances for the Tatooinian holiday.

“I’m looking for a replacement IG memory circuit.” Din says and Peli laughs as the Jawas are brought in, “Oh. Hey, Grandpa. They haven’t made those for a while,” She turns speaking Jawaese though much faster for you to translate you do pick up ‘memory circuit’ in the conversation. The Jawas speak amongst themselves before replying with the bad news,

“Sorry, pal, no chance cubes.” Peli says and Din looks at the Jawas, “They can’t find the part?”

The mechanic shakes her head, “Nope.” She says popping the ‘p’ in nope.

“I need my droid fixed now.” Din explains and Peli’s eyes light up as she returns the child to Din before standing beside an R5 droid, “Which is why I think you should buy this beauty here.” She pats the droid on its head as it clanks and gives frightened beeps.

“I can’t use an astromech. I need a droid that’s rated for spelunking.” Din explains and Peli gives him a look, “Spelunking? What are you spelunking?”

“I’m going to Mandalore. I need a droid that can explore ahead of me and test the atmosphere, make sure it’s safe to breathe.” Din explains and Peli nods but you see R5 start to retreat beeping nervously,

“Okay, well…Uhuhuhuh. Hey! Get right back here. Right back here, scaredy droid. Come on now, you gotta shine,” Forcing the droid to stand in front of you and Din as she laughs, “This R5 astromech is built for adventure.” The droid beeps completely disagreeing.

“What? Of course, you are. You’re supposed to be piloting starfighters across the galaxy and fighting tyranny.” She says and the droid continues giving worried beeps, “It’s falling apart, and besides, I got no room for it on the N1.” Din says.

“We have R4 remember Di-” You start but Peli cuts you off still in businesswoman mode trying to get a good deal,

“Nonsense. R5D4 is as good as the day it came back from serving in the Rebellion. And I’ll reinstall your droid port and this little baby here can even copilot,” She says and you see the droid trembling in fear, “Hey if you don’t settle your bolts, I’ll sell you back to the Jawas. And because it’s Boonta, what I’m gonna do is I’m gonna give you this for half the price and throw in a free oil bath.”

As night falls Peli reinstalls the droid port as R5 beeps fearfully to the side before it's being put in the ship “Oh, come on now, don’t be a coward. You’re an astromech, act like one,” The droid beeps fearfully and Peli looks at the two of you as you sit in your ships, “I wouldn’t rely too much on this one. Its circuitry is a little fragile.”

“I thought you said it was built for adventure.” Din says as Peli closes both of your canopies shaking her head, “What? Sorry, I can’t hear you!” She holds her hand to her eye as the engines of both of your ships startup. You begin your take-off as Peli waves off to you,

“May the Force be with you!”

The fireworks of the city fill the dark night sky in a multitude of colors reflecting off the glass and your face. Looking over at Din seeing the colors reflect off the beskar as Grogu looks at them in awe as they go off right beside you from your height. “All right. You ready for an adventure?” Din says as you leave the planet your mission begins to travel to Mandalore. Exiting hyperspace and reaching the Mandalore system you follow beside Din as he heads toward Mandalore you can see the planet and the storms that cover the planet. R4 beeps slightly grumpy still mad at Din for bringing a new droid when it was truly capable.

“I know R4, you are more than capable of this mission. Din just does things his own way.” You say and R4 grumbles in his beeps. Looking over the planet you couldn’t help the nerves seeing the planet.

“So this is Mandalore..” You say. “Yes…it looks scary but it was once green and beautiful, back when the songs were written. It’s Mandalore, the homeworld of our people. Every Mandalorian can trace their roots back to this planet, and the beskar mines deep within.” Din says as he speaks to the two of you.

“So you were raised there like Bo-Katan?” You ask and you see him shake his head from his ship. “No, I was not raised there. I’ve never been to Mandalore. I grew up on that moon. Concordia.” You see the moon beside the planet that was Concordia, that was Din’s home planet where he grew up and was raised.

“And that’s Kalevala where we visited Bo-Katan. It’s in the same system.” Din says and you see the other planet though further away but you could see it on your navigation map. You hear Grogu babble through your comms as you move closer to Mandalore, “A Mandalorian has to understand maps and know their way around. That way, you’ll never be lost.” Making your descent instantly entering a storm as the rain pellets down on your ship harshly, the thunder rumbling as your ship shakes. Looking at your maps seeing them jam and glitch.

“Din? Din, can you hear me?” You call through your comms getting and you get cuts of his voice though mainly static, “Ke-...ep G-Gooing…d-d-don’t tur-” It cuts off as the ship continues to rattle and you hear R4 beep worried as you try looking through the storm and the failing screens,

“I think the fusion bombs disrupted the magnetic field around the planet. We might not be able to communicate with anyone outside of the atmosphere. Keep your eyes peeled R4…down here, we’re completely cut off from the rest of the galaxy.” You say as the rattling of the ship through the storm finally breaks through and you reach the planet seeing the crystalized planet all of its shards of green glass just like the small piece you got from Jawas.

“K..kid?! Can you hear me?” You hear Din’s voice cut through your comms and you sigh in relief, “I can hear you where are you?” You respond by seeing a large dome but it’s destroyed. Everything here felt familiar though you’ve never been to Mandalore before, it still felt right being here.

“Sending coordinates now,” Din responds and you get through pretty easily, and soon you find a clearing surrounded by jagged pieces of glass landing happy to see the N-1. The child coos happily seeing you in one piece inside your ship, “I’m happy to see you too.” You say as Gorgu taps on the glass.

“R5, you ready? I’m gonna need you to scout ahead and analyze the atmosphere.” Din says to the droid apart of his ship and R5 beeps fearful and disagreeing to go, “That wasn’t a question. Go over to that split in the rock, and take an air sample of the ruins below.” R5 nervously but slowly leaves the droid port as it moves a bit further away before looking back and beeping.

“The droid will be fine. I just need him to take some readings to make sure it’s safe. Don’t be a baby. Just get the samples we need, and hurry up.” Din waves to the droid and it looks at the split in the rock nervously. You hear the droid port in yours open up as R4 quickly speeds past it grumbling in binary about needing to be the only droid. Reluctantly R5 joins the other droid glad to have a companion. You look over at Din as he watches the two droids leave around the corner.

“You got R4 jealous,” You comment and he gives you a look, “Jealous it’s a droid.” The child whimpers and Din points at the scope, “Here, look. You can watch him on the scope.” You can see on your own the two blinking dots of both droids as they head further out before they completely disappear.

“R4? Buddy, you hear me? R4?” You call out in your comms as you only get static, you would jump out there to go after your droid if you knew the air was safe, “R5, come in. Do you read me? It’s probably just interference.” Grogu babbles before Din sighs, “Fine. I’ll go get him. Normally, this is droid work. I was hoping to avoid going out there. I’ll pressurize my helmet, seal yourself in your pod. Be right back.” Din explains as Grogu climbs into his pod and once Din makes sure he’s secure he climbs out of the ship before heading to yours.

“I’m gonna look for the droids,” You go to move to join him your instincts running to be by his side but he shakes, “The air may be unsafe for you without a helmet. You stay here with the child.”

“Be safe..” You say and he nods, “Don’t worry, kid, I’ll be right back.” You’re forced to watch him walk away from your ship Grogu now letting himself out of his pram sitting in the N-1. You could hear the sad cooing and the fear in his babbles and you had your own concern but you didn’t try to panic the child more.

“Din’s gonna be already…he’s strong. Nothing stops him.” You say and you hear the child’s worried noises dialing down but you keep your gaze focused on the turn just waiting for Din and the droids to turn the corner. It felt like hours and you let out a sigh of relief seeing Din turn the corner followed by the droids. Gorgu babbles happily tapping on the glass to be let out but Din shakes his head,

“Hang on, kid. Not until I check the toxicity. You got an analysis on the atmosphere yet?” Din asks and R4 beeps revealing the readings as Din looks at them shocked, “The charts were wrong. The atmosphere is breathable. Bo-Katan was right. Mandalore is not cursed.” Hearing the news you quickly open your canopy taking in the fresh air happy it wasn’t poisoned and would kill you. You felt an energy deep in the planet as you step foot on the planet for the first time,

“So this is Mandalore…” You say in awe of just the surface of the planet as you join the group out in the open, “R4 you wait at the ship in case we need a quick exit.” You say and the droid beeps happy to help and enters the X-wing. Following Din, you enter a cave seeing the large green chunks of glass before you’re led to an opening off the end of the cliff and you take in the destroyed city.

“That’s the Civic Center. This is where Bo-Katan said to go.” Din points towards the middle of the large buried city. Looking down at the large fall as you take in everything, “Ready?” Din asks and you nod letting him scoop you up before walking off the cliff. His jetpack allows for a steady free fall as Grogu follows in his pram that hovers down beside you. Descending past the mangled metal skeletons of buildings that are long destroyed you stop on a metal platform as you look further down seeing the journey you still had down. “The mines should be further down. I guess we’re on our own from here.” Continuing down entering a large well, past ancient water pipes, this must be the system leading to the mines of Mandalore soon you reached the bottom. Brought to your feet stepping on the damp ground as you take in the area around you.

“These waters should flow down to the mines, and the Living Waters within.” Din points to where the water flows before you make your way through the caves, Din used the flashlight on his helmet to light the way, Grogu with his lights built into his pram, and your form of orange light coming from the beskar saber in your hand.

The large tunnel has more water pipes branching off though no large amounts of water flow through them just a steady drip, “Look, that passage heads down.” He says as you enter a smaller tunnel. “So how would we know what these Living Waters look like?” You ask as you continue down the tunnel. This all felt too familiar, remembering the candles and lanterns lighting your path a feeling in your chest pulling you towards the large cave of water.

“You will know,” Din explains and you continue behind him you come across a pile of rubble and a smooth piece of metal sticks out. Din kneels down pulling from the ground a Mandalorian helmet the visor broke. It looked years old, rusted, and encrusted in the dirt. You felt a sense of dread too late to get Din out of the way of the trap as it encloses him. Looking at the large creature that has Din in his clutches you dodge an attack before swinging your saber it cuts through not deep enough as one of its legs hits you throwing you back. Rolling to a stand something whips through the air connecting to your shoulder looking at your shoulder and seeing a needle sticking out of your skin. Ripping it out seeing it empty as a sudden wave of dizziness and nausea rushes through you. The saber falls from your hands shut off as you collapse into the dirt. From the shadows, Gorgu now out of his pram watches Din be in a tight metal cage, and a creature appears from the large mech suit tying a chain around your arms before retreating into the suit and disappearing dragging you along with the Mandalorian.

Your vision comes to feeling your arms encased above your head groaning from the pain in your skull. Trying to move your hands feeling the rattle of a chain that pulls you from the hazy as your vision clears. In a cave with a few lights, you see ahead of you this firepit with a cage on it, as this creature pulls things out of the cage with a large staff. You see the blaster and his other weapons hit the ground and your memory rushes back. Din, you hear him groan in pain as you tug at your restraints feeling no give. Looking at your person seeing your weapons gone as well in a pile beside Din’s stuff. The creature jabs the Mandalorian before disappearing elsewhere. Hearing shuffling and you spot the small child sneaking his way in to rescue the both of you. Grogu approaches Din looking at the cage that is on a spit, you see him raise his hand attempting to free him with the Force. You see the cage shake and groan though quietly to not alert the being. It beings to lift up when a piece of machinery holding the cage snaps off a large clang alerting the creature.

“Get to Bo-Katan,” Din says weakly as the creature grabs a staff to electrocute Grogu but he jumps dodging the attack. It attempts to chase after him as Grogu raises to his pram but you kick your free foot against its metal knee as it trips slightly. It glares at you raising the staff and digging it into you as it electrocutes you. A scream rips through your body as you seize before your head falls down your body twitching from the pain. It hurt like hell, your body drained and overloaded at the same time. But the child was able to escape so the pain was worth it. You just hope he gets to Bo-Katan and gains her help. You smirk up at the creature,

“That’s all you got?” It makes a snarling sound and raises the staff jamming it back onto your body as your screams fill the air before the pain becomes too much and you fall unconscious.

The small child escapes the ruins of the civic center reaching the N-1 and closing the canopy before a reptilian creature could attack it smashing into the glass. The R5 unit looks at the small child sitting in the pilot’s seat pointing at the viewscreen at the planet that resides a Mandalorian R5 quickly understands transferring the information to R4 who beeps confused not seeing his owner return with the child. Soon both N-1 and X-Wing rise and leave Mandalore.

A tired princess of a destroyed planet rests on her throne waiting for her life to wilt away. However, a droid interrupts her moping, “Your Majesty. Unscheduled visitors.” Bo-Katan sighs seeing both the N-1 and X-Wing fly past the castle’s large open windows. Sitting up grabbing her blasters and heading towards the ship the foot droid following behind,

“Let’s get rid of him once and for all.” She says as she reaches the landing pad sees the two ships and calls out to them.

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear the last time. I want to be left alone.” The canopy for the N-1 opens revealing the lone child as it babbles and Bo-Katan looks over at the empty X-Wing only its droid in command, “What happened to them? Download the astromechs. Find out where they were.” She orders her droid as it takes the information from both astromechs. Once receiving the location she brings the two droids and the child onto her own personal ship.

“We’re going to find them little one,” Bo-Katan promises, though she felt some sympathy towards the child’s father her concern was more aimed at her own flesh and blood.

You were sure how long you were unconscious but you woke up to sharp pain. A hiss pulls from your lips as your eyes wearily open seeing a needle coming out of your arm. You hear a groan of pain and you look over to the cage Din is in seeing tubing coming from there. “Din..” You croak your voice hoarse from the pain of being electrocuted.

You see the creature return coming over to a droid and starting it up seeing it being to pump, a hiss comes from your mouth and you hear a groan come from Din. Looking at the needle your eyes widen seeing your blood being drained by it and you can assume it’s not going to stop. Pulling at your chains trying to force the needle to be ripped out only for the blood to be drained faster. You can feel your body grow weaker from the energy being put in and the quickly draining blood. A blaster bolt hits the pump droid stopping the extraction and you let your head fall trying to stop the black spots from filling your vision. You hear footsteps and gentle hands cupping your face, “Y/n?! Can you hear me?” You’re surprised to see the bright orange hair and the woman’s face. You spot the creature sneaking up behind her with the electric staff,

“Be..behind.” You mumble and Bo-Katan realizes and was able to dodge the attack but is hit multiple times stunning her as she groans in pain. Rolling on the ground grab the Darksaber igniting it as your head falls back down. You hear the struggles of fighting before a large sound of metal being cut and it grows silent. Bo-Katan comes over to you pulls the needle out of your arm and starts working on the chains but you weakly shake your head, “Din…” Your grand-aunt sighs before going to help the Mandalorian as you rest your head back trying to get rid of the waves of dizziness but soon fail falling back unconscious.

“Din, are you okay? Can you hear me?” Bo-Katan asks looking around at the cage and seeing him lying on his stomach she couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, “It’s Bo-Katan. I’m gonna get you out of here, all right? Can you move at all?” The Mandalorian mumbles something but she shakes her head,

“Din, I can’t hear you. Are you trying to say something?” The Mandalorian weakly speaks two words, “Behind you.”

Bo-Katan barely dodges the attack of the creature in the large mech suit it was not dead the first time. The large suit stomps trying to crush Bo-Katan as she rolls out of the way cutting off one of the limbs. It brings a leg dodge but she brings up her shield deflecting the attack. With much more grace than Din has even wielded the blade she has ease chopping off the limbs before chopping the head of the machine. Before the cyborg creature could try to escape again Bo-Katan stabs the creature straight through its mechanical/organic head.

A fire crackles far away from the caves as the once-trapped Mandalorian begins to stir away. Din wakes up groaning in pain holding his head and taking in the new location as he sees the female Mandalorian tend to the fire, “What happened?” He asks looking seeing the small child beside him babbling happily and seeing his father awake.

“I saved your life.” Bo-Katan says and Din notices one person missing trying to sit up faster but groans in pain, “Relax she’s alright just still asleep.” Bo-Katan gestures over to your sleeping body Din sighs in relief seeing you alright. He had heard your cries of pain that was inflicted on you but he was useless in helping you. Bo-Katan with the help of the small child had to take two trips to first bring you to safety and set up camp while the child stayed with his father before Bo-Katan returned to bring them both to the set camp.

“How did you find me?” Din asks getting himself into a sitting position, “Your kid. He’s tougher than he looks.” She points to the small child who sputters entranced by the small fire, the flames though much larger than him, “And he’s quite the navigator.” She adds and Din nods,

“Thank you for rescuing me. You were right. Mandalore is not cursed.”

“Was I? Look around. There’s nothing left. A great society is now a memory. I once ruled here for a brief time,” Bo-Katan says reminiscing old and dead memories, “Now, it’s destroyed. Nothing to cling to but ashes.” She sighs getting up holding a small cup filled with a mystery liquid Din looks at it curiously,

“What is this?”

“You’ve never eaten pog soup?” She says shocked and Din shakes his head, “No.”

Bo-Katan chuckles at the irony, “Can you appreciate the irony? Any Mandalorian worth their armor was raised on this since they were his size. You should rest. I’ll get you back to my ship soon enough.” She explains as Din drinks part of the soup lifting his helmet slightly though not revealing his face before giving the rest of the soup to Grogu. He rises with a groan shaking his head,

“I’m not going with you.” He says and Bo-Katan watches him behind to put his weapons and jetpack back on him, “What are you talking about?”

“I must continue to the Mines of Mandalore so that I may be redeemed.” He says finishing by grabbing the darksaber to return to you.

“I honestly think that it’s adorable that you actually believe these children’s stories. But there is nothing magic about the waters.” She says trying to convince him to but he was already on a mission he was not going to drift from.

“Without the Creed, what are we?” He asks her moving to the fire grabbing the last cup of the pog soup and moving towards the sleeping girl, “What do we stand for? Our people are scattered like stars in the galaxy. The Creed is how we survived. You rescued me and I’ll always be in your debt. But I can’t go with you until I fulfill my obligation.” He kneels down and slowly shakes the girl awake.

You feel a gentle caress on your head as you stir from a dreamless sleep, “Come on kid,” You hear Din’s voice as you slowly blink your eyes open a groan coming deep in your chest as you see him kneel down beside you.

“Din..” You whisper as he helps you to sit before he holds out a cup, “Drink. Regain your strength.” He says as you accept the cup drinking what is soup as he looks over you taking any injuries you might have sustained but you just look tired. Bo-Katan watches the gentleness that the Mandalorian gives to you. How the fierce warrior that fought against the Imperials and many bounty hunters and lived act so soft around a small green infant and her own grand-niece.

“I will take you.” She says and you both look over at Bo-Katan, unsure what the context was of their conversation.

“To the Living Waters?” You ask and Bo-Katan nods, “Yes. You’d never find them on your own. Not in all this wreckage.” She says and Din nods,

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me until you see them.” She says and soon you begin your journey once more through the ruins of the old city. The place seemed trapped in time the ruins holding the history of this planet or the few Mandalorians that escaped the purge. Everything felt familiar and welcoming about this place, never once have you stepped foot on Mandalore but it feels like you were returning after years of being apart. An unknown force connects you to this place as Bo-Katan leads you through the city ruins.

“It’s hard to believe that this all was once filled with our kind,” Din says as he takes in the ruins of the once glorious city. It was rare to see a Mandalorian in the same system or planet but having them all together cultivating a planet, growing up, and raising foundlings here, Din couldn’t believe it. He wishes the planet was in its state of prosperity, he would raise you and the child here as foundlings, and you would be back on the planet of your ancestors.

“It wasn’t that long ago. You’d never know it looking at all this destruction.” Bo-Katan says taking in the ruins.

“It looks like it’s been centuries.” You say spinning around while walking and looking at the buildings that are high above you, you imagine Mandalorians traveling by jetpacks or trains and speeders. The people in their armor with pride. You try to imagine your father, being born here. You wonder what he would say if he knew you return to his homeworld, did he wear Mandalorian armor? Did he speak the Creed and Walk the Way?

“The Empire set out to punish us. To wipe away our memory.” Bo-Katan says and Din glances over at the woman, “It must pain you to see it like this after witnessing its beauty.”

Bo-Katan is silent before speaking up, “What pains me is seeing our own kind fight one another time and time again. Killing each other for reasons too confusing to explain. It made us weak. We had no hope to resist being smashed by the fist of the Empire. There. The entrance to the Mines of Mandalore.” She points ahead and you see a tall entrance before you that still remains intact.

“olaror adiik…at te oya'la pirun” (come child…to the living water) A chorus of whispers calls out to you, and the harmony of voices graces your skin. An electric feeling dances along your body the hair on your skin standing feeling the presence. It was the same feeling as you felt that energy from your dream as Din spoke but it felt drowned under your thoughts

“This area looks much older.” He says and the feeling of eyes watching you fade as his voice becomes clear,

“The mines have been here for thousands of years. The Living Waters are in the chambers below.” Bo-Katan explains and you look over at her, “Have you been there?” You ask and she nods,

“Yes, when I was a child.” She says before glancing at you briefly, “So was your father.” You perk up hearing the mention of your father.

“Really?” You ask wanting to know more about your family and their past. The history that connected them so deeply to this planet and its people.

“I was part of the royal family. I took the Creed and was showered with gifts. But the rituals were all just theater for our subjects. They loved watching the princess recite the Mandalorian tenets as her father looked on proudly. Such a heartwarming spectacle. Your father was the same reciting the Creed though he wanted to grow and be the right ruler to Mandalore. One that Mandalorians could fight for and alongside.” Bo-Katan says glancing at you with a nostalgic expression seeing the familiar features of her nephew on your face, “Our family thought it taboo what he believed in at such a young age. He wanted Mandalorians to know that wherever they were in the galaxy they had a home on Mandalore…” She grows quiet glancing at Din slightly, “No matter what Creed they follow.”

Your wide eyes turn to Din and you can sense the surprise coming off him, from your father’s ideals at such a young age. “He would be happy,” Bo-Katan says looking at you, “That you are home.” She says before looking away and you can tell this was a very emotion-filled conversation she hadn’t expected to have in a long time or ever. You grab her hand and she looks at you surprised,

“Thank you for telling me about my father…Your father sounds like an interesting man as well. I would’ve liked to have known him.” You say, you felt like so much of your history was hidden, with only one living relative and the planet that would hold all its secrets in ruins. You could only grasp pieces of your fragmented family legacy. Bo-Katan nods squeezing your hand in return,

“They were great men. They died defending Mandalore.” She says and you knew that even though your father didn’t die defending your planet like your great-grandfather but your father had protected you all those years ago. Keeping a piece of the Kryze Clan alive, protecting his last piece of Mandalore.

“This is the Way.” You speak the words of both Mandalorians' Creed surprising them both. Bo-Katan felt like a piece of her lost family restored with your words, the last living members of a dying clan. Din felt pride and complete shock as well as hearing you speak the words of his Creed with every intent behind it.

“This is the Way…” The two whisper back as they look at the young girl. You were of two dying worlds; the Jedi with its people massacred many years ago being the grandchild of a great Jedi Master and the Mandalorians their planet destroyed their people scattered across the galaxy grandchild of their late Duchess one of the last survivors of a clan.

“ibic cuyir te ara” The chorus echoes through the caves but you’re the only one that turns to the sound. Your hand drifts from Bo-Katan’s as you take the lead. Returning to a familiar tunnel the holders for the torches and lanterns are now destroyed you don’t even use the light from your saber letting that energy guide you. Din, Bo-Katan, and Gorgu quickly follow behind you as you are pulled into a daze turning down a complex system of tunnels as they catch glimpses of you as you move ahead.

“Kid! Wait for us!” Din yells seeing you quickly disappear around a corner of darkness the three of them having light while you travel in darkness, “She doesn’t even know where she’s going.” Din grumbles but Bo-Katan shakes her head with a surprised expression.

“She’s going the right way…” She says as the three quickly follow after the two adults confused about how you knew the way.

“ibic cuyir te ara…olaror adiik” The voices whisper again as turn down another path the darkness surrounds you but it guides you the whispering of Mando’a becoming louder and overlapping as it echoes through the tunnels until you reach an opening. A vast pool of water is accessible by a wide stone staircase. Pillars of stone though roughed by erosion, a greenish glow fills the cave from the green glass that surrounds the planet. It was just like your dream, remnants of broken lanterns make a path toward the murky waters. It’s completely silent as you look out into the water and it ripples and you sense something in there.

Lo te pirun

The voices whisper as you slowly move forward and you pull off your holster holding your blaster and vibro-knife as they fall to the ground.

To mhi

It echoes around as you pull your saber letting it clatter to the floor, the voices whisper into your ears pulling you to the water as you take a step down the water licking at your boot. You pull the Darksaber from your belt the weight heavy in your palm as you ignite the blade the light draining from the room as your gaze follows the sword-like energy coming from the blade. Whispers and haunted memories flow from the blade. Presences fill the room as a hand reaches from behind you grabbing your wrist that holds the saber you look to your side seeing a human man wearing grey Mandalorian armor with blue accents his head is shaved and his eyes a storm blue, another hand grabs your other wrist and you see a man feeling his presence in the force his black robes with red skin and black markings, his head covered in spikes and his eyes a mixture of red and yellow.

“Blood for the Mand’alor.” The Mandalorian says his hand guiding the weapon to your other hand. “Blood for the Jedi.” The red-skinned man hisses. You feel numb as the Darksaber slices across your palm feeling a muffled heat before the blade is pulled back and palm pours from your palm. The force-sensitive man holds your wrist out as the blood pours into the water a ripple of red mixing with the murky water. Your grasp on the Darksaber disappears as the men’s grasp leaves you and the weapon clatters to the ground.

“I swear on my name. And the names of the Ancestors..” The voices echo and you repeat the words as you draw deeper into the water at your hip

Ad be Kryze…kemir te ara be Manda'yaim

“That I shall walk the way of the Mand’alor… and the words of the Creed shall be forever forged in my heart.” The chorus of voices some familiar you pick but they speak in harmony as you repeat what they whisper to you.

t'adyc ad be jetiise Kenobi. t'adyc ad be Mando Kryze.

“Ibic cuyir te ara” You call out the water reaching your chest, “This is the Way.” The chorus echoes as you feel that presence in the water grows stronger.

Mand'alor be cuun adate

“It ends here Mand’alor.” “Kid!” Moff Gideon’s and Din’s voice fills your head the haze that covered you clears right as you walk off the shallow shelf and Bo-Katan and Din see you abruptly disappear in the water.

Tal kelir galar par gar

Both Din and Bo-Katan dive into the water without hesitation using their jetpacks to speed up the quickly sinking girl. Their lights look around frantically for the girl before Din notices the seemingly lifeless body of his daughter resting at the bottom of the trench. Swimming down wrapping an arm under her armpits quickly using his jetpack to assist him to get to the surface with Bo-Katan following behind as cover. Din is so focused on getting his daughter to safety as Bo-Katan watches out into the dark water when they suddenly pass a giant reptilian creature with white horns. Bo-Katan’s eyes widen when her light hits the creature seeing its eye open and staring back at the woman. A creature only told in myths said to be long dead but the symbol of its people. The mines according to folklore said to be the lair of this creature. She lets out a gasp as they speed away as she watches the large creature swim off into the darkness. The three reach the surface crashing onto the steps as Bo-Katan gasp for air while Din who also struggles to catch his breath hovers over the young girl trying to get her to wake up. Sudden coughs fill the air water expelling out of her mouth as she wheezes trying to get air back in her lungs but she was alive.

The small clan of three comforts each other from the event as the female Mandalorian stares out into the waters taking great, heaving breaths. She wasn’t sure what she saw down there or if she even saw something down there at all. They were meant to be extinct the last one seen during the age of the first Mandalore…then why did she see a mythosaur in those waters.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian #clan of three #clan of three series #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x teen!reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din x reader #din djarin x y/n #mando x reader

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pedrostylez · 1 year

Text

Something Else- pt. 5

pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!reader

chapter summary: buying groceries with Frankie 👀 and getting ready to go to Benny’s fight with Anna gives you the courage to say something to her

rating: 18+ (no minors please) Explicit

word count: 3.6k

warnings etc: Frankie w/o a daughter, triple frontier movie plot has happened, dirty talk, pet names, oral (m receiving), (some slight face fucking whaaattttt) eating, jealousy, friendship dynamics, fluff, friendships, competition, drinking, 2nd person pov, no use of y/n

A/N: Happy Frankie Friday! Please be on the lookout on Tuesday for the first side drabble that will be less than 1k words that gives some further background on other characters in this story. I've worked really hard to only give what reader and Frankie are thinking in their respective parts in each chapter, BUT there's side story that is important too! Hope that is okay with everyone :) Please support by commenting, sending me thoughts, and reblogging. I appreciate every single one of you who reads this!

Taglist: @meveispunk, @jitterbugs927, @sullyosully @3sriracha @alltheseperfectimperfections @nandan11 @jake-g-lockley, @theanothersherlockian, @anoverwhelmingdin, @guelyury, @harriedandharassed, @wintersquirrel @scarletthefierce @paleidiot @brittmb115

Frankie knows that he is infatuated with you. He can’t really help it.

After that first date, you watched a movie on his couch, laying in his shirt and your underwear, and he couldn’t help but trail his fingers up and down your leg until you looked at him with a small smile and an enticing “c’mere, Frankie.” that had him pouncing on you.

And then all weekend long you spent time with him. You worked on Saturday, but he dropped you off and picked you up, spending the night at yours the next day. In each other’s back pockets, constantly together. He felt like a teenager with an obsession that he couldn’t shake.

By Monday, when he had to go back to the hangar, he even offered for you to come with him. “The guys won’t mind. Benny was asking about you the other day.”

You had smiled at him and shook your head. “No, if I start going then Anna will insist on going too. And that’s not fair to you guys, you’re trying to get things done.”

He had hummed at you, wanting to argue that you could come, that what they were doing wasn’t that important, just Pope wanting us to be prepared if he comes across another drug lord that has lots of money, but he wasn’t about to tell you all that. The way that you accepted that he and the other guys just “had things to do” and didn’t question it further until he was ready to discuss it, already had him wondering where someone like you had been all his life.

Frankie had wondered all weekend long if you would bring up what he told you in the cafe, about his previous drug problem. You had paused many times, debating something in your brain before saying something that would surprise him, but never questioning what he had previously divulged. In a way, it put him at ease, but there was a pit in his stomach about having to tell you about it.

When Benny picked him up, knocking on his door before waltzing into his kitchen, the look on his face at seeing you perched on his counter in one of his shirts and no pants, Frankie between your legs and kissing at your neck had Frankie laughing when he realized. Benny didn’t get surprised easily–but the wide eyes and blush creeping up his face to match yours said otherwise. “I didn’t know–”

“It’s okay!” You exclaimed, pushing Frankie away, hopping off the counter, and setting down the half-bagel you were chewing. “I’ll find some pants!” Your face was as red as ever before, eyeing Frankie that let him know you didn’t appreciate being bottomless in front of his friends. He just smiled at you, squeezing your hip affectionately before you ducked your head and turned.

You ran away down the hall to his bedroom, and Frankie’s chuckle turned into a full laugh as Benny covered his eyes, mortified. “Sorry, Ben.”

Benny groaned, sliding his hands down his face. “Catfish, I swear to god. I didn’t know she was going to be here. I would have knocked!”

Frankie nods, grabbing the bagel you left and taking a bite. “I know, I didn’t tell you. My bad.” Benny just kept staring at Frankie like he had two heads, and in a way, Frankie thought he might; he was used to being the stoic, serious one who needed space from the others. He felt different after just a weekend.

You reappeared with buttoned jeans and an exasperated sigh. You looked over to Frankie mid-bite, pouting. “Hey, that’s mine!” Your face was still red, but fading as you reached for the remaining bit of toasted bread unsuccessfully.

“Sorry about just barging in,” Benny said quietly, facing you. He glanced at Frankie quickly and then back to your face. “But honestly? You’ve got some killer legs–”

“Alright!” Frankie frowned, taking the remaining bagel and holding it out to you. You were giggling, biting the bagel out of his hand before flicking your eyes to Benny. “That’s enough. Let’s get going.”

“‘You coming with?” Benny asked, pulling his keys out of his pocket. The look was expectant, assuming you would be tagging along. Frankie looked over at you with wide eyes, hoping you would maybe change your mind.

You shook your head. “Nah, got some stuff to do and then I work tonight.” You shrugged, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Have fun or…work hard or whatever.” You stumbled, smiling at the two of them. You grabbed your own keys, waiting for them to step toward Frankie’s door.

In the apartment parking lot, you waved them off, blushing again when Frankie grabbed at your hip to pull you close. “When can I see you again?” He huffed into your ear, feeling you press closer to him.

“I’m workin’ the next few days.” You sigh, tilting your head toward Benny who is watching on, curious. “Text me later?”

Frankie nods, letting go of you and watching as you step into your own vehicle, smiling as you pull away. Frankie won’t get into Benny’s truck until you’re out of sight, shutting the door behind him and waiting to get moving to the hangar.

Benny has different plans. “So, I assume Friday went well?”

Frankie scoffs, glancing at his friend and then leaning back. “Yeah, went really well.”

Benny hums, starting the vehicle but not pulling out of the spot. “You know dumb and dumber will ask questions too, since you canceled flight practice on Friday.” Benny reminds.

Frankie takes a deep breath, shaking his head. “It’s not their business.” He mumbles, waiting for Benny to start moving, but when he doesn’t he turns to him again. “What?”

Benny watches him, shrugging and shaking his head. “Maybe bring her to my fight next week?” He asks, reversing out of the space. “We all just want to see you happy, and make sure she’s a good fit for you.”

Frankie is ready to argue, wanting to come to your defense but holds back. He knows that between the three of them, they saved his life on more than one occasion. They let him crash at their places until he was on his feet again, brought him to meetings even when he didn’t want to go…he felt this twinge of guilt that he had been hiding you away, even though you didn’t want to be in larger groups anyways. “I’ll talk to her.”

The next few days are bliss.

Frankie has consistently invited you over for dinner with no expectations or brings you meals and spends time with you. He mentions Benny’s fight, saying “Benny would invite you himself if I let him be alone with you.” and you are quick to agree to go. You even go so far as to ask if Anna is going to be invited because you wouldn’t mind seeing her.

You feel confident that Frankie won’t be distracted by Anna.

He’s so attentive. He asks what you want, gives his input, and meets you in the middle. Sure, you only have food choices, movie choices, and places visited to base that off of, but you can feel it. You have to remind yourself it has only been a couple weeks and to not get too carried away, but you have this feeling in your stomach that this is right.

You complained that you needed to go grocery shopping and he was happy to go with you, trailing along behind you for most of it, but perusing your list and going to the next few isles to find them.

“You buy bulk laundry detergent, but you can’t even lift the container.” He mumbles, pushing your cart into the checkout line.

He nudges you away when you try to argue that you can pick it up, smiling when you huff out a mumbled: “I’ve been doing it.” Sliding your card into the terminal to pay for your groceries.

“I know, you’re very strong.” Frankie nods along, no sign of a joke or making fun of you. You eye him, unsure what to make of him as he helps you back into his truck, drives you to your apartment, and helps you unload.

You’re quick to grab the laundry detergent this time, waddling to your front door trying to not break a sweat. He doesn’t need to know that you typically carry it in with a rolling cart you keep stored in your closet specifically for the task. You can hear him laughing, grabbing your reusable bags that had also been stuffed to the brim with other essentials. When you’re trying to unlock the door while also holding up the detergent, Frankie reaches around you and picks the key out of your hands. You try to not blush at how his arm brushes against yours, or how he turns his head to look down at you with a smirk on his face.

When you get inside, Frankie is quick to remove all the items that need to be in the refrigerator; coffee creamer, ground turkey, and eggs. He glances at you before sliding his fingers over yours and grabbing the detergent from your hand. “I’ll take it, sweetheart.” He lifts it over your head and into the laundry room where there is a shelf where you typically keep the detergent. He sets it there gently, turning to you with a raised brow and a chuckle. “What are you looking at hermosa.”

You shrug, turning back to the bags he set on the counter. “Oh, nothing much I guess. Just your arms.”

“My arms?” He asks, confusion clear on his face. “What’s wrong with them?” He looks at his bicep, pulling his arm around to look at the back of one of them and not realizing that he is basically flexing them in your face.

“Nothing is wrong with them.” You laugh, pushing his shoulder to get him to look at you. “They’re just…big.”

He squints at you, similar to how you looked at him in the grocery store to gauge if there is a joke within your words. When finds none, he smirks at you, adjusting his hat and leaning against the counter. “Is that a good thing?” He questions, crossing them over his chest.

You feign disinterest. “Means you can lift heavy stuff for me.” You shrug, smiling at him as he continues to try and dissect your answer. “So, tell me about the fight tomorrow. What should I be expecting?”

Frankie hears you shift gears, stretching his neck as he watches you pull the rest of the groceries out of the bags, sorting them on your counter. “Pope, Will, and I have seats in the front. Benny already knows you and Anna are coming, so he reserved a couple more seats. Lots of yelling, sweat, and probably blood.” He drawls on, looking up at your ceiling. “It will be a couple hours. Pope wants us all to drive together, but I figured I would ask you first…”

You look over at him as you’re putting away the pasta, seeing the tension in his shoulders as he waits for your response. “It’s fine with me if it’s easier.”

He brings his eyes down to you, crouched on the tile in front of the lowest drawer next to the fridge. “But, is that what you want?”

You shrug, moving the items around in the drawer. “It doesn’t bother me, Frankie. Unless you just want me alone in your truck?” You smirk, looking up at him again as you close the drawer. You realize just how close you are to him, how you could reach out and just touch the outside of his jeans–

He smiles, shaking his head. “I’ll take you any way I can have you.” He huffs out, watching your hand that has suddenly reached out to his pant leg. “What are you doing?”

“What?” You ask quietly, adjusting yourself to be a bit closer, hand resting on his thigh. “You’re just…in my way. Gotta get to that cupboard.”

He turns his body toward you, one hip leaning on the counter still, looking down at the cabinetry. “Right here?” He says lowly, eyes going half-lidded at seeing you on your knees in front of him.

He’s silent as you nod your head, opening the cupboard to slide in the cleaning supplies you bought under the sink, using his leg to lean on. When you close the door, you hear the smallest groan leave his lips as you bite your bottom one. “Sorry, lost my balance for a second.”

You can tell he is trying to control his breathing, his eyes flicking between yours and your mouth, his hand reaching down to your chin. He lets his thumb trail across your lip before pulling it from your teeth, “That’s alright, baby.” He trails his thumb up, your mouth parted as he runs the pad of his finger over your top teeth.

He whines when you close your lips around the tip of his thumb and give a gentle suck. He’s holding your chin steady while you lick at his thumb, your hands reaching forward to the button of his jeans. You get them fully unzipped before he’s pulling his hand away to stop you. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You immediately respond, pulling at his pants again to see if he will let you. He’s unsure, looking between your face and your hands before lifting them away to let you. You smile triumphantly, biting at your lip again. “Let me make you feel good?”

He nods, jaw going slack as you let him free of the confines of his pants. He’s big-wide and weeping from his head already. His hair is dark, well trimmed and trails up to his belly button as you had looked at before, and you feel saliva collect under your tongue. When you look up at him again, he’s holding on to the counter with one hand, knuckles white from the effort. His other hand doesn’t know what it’s doing, reaching up into his hair and knocking his hat loose on his head as he watches you.

When you lean forward to lick at the pearl of pre-come, he shuts his eyes tight, unconsciously reaching down to hold the back of your head. “Fuck, hermosa–” You give a small giggle, Frankie opens his eyes to see you again and smiles himself. “Sorry, you’re just–fuck you’re so sexy.” He laughs, watching as you lean forward again to wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

You hum in acknowledgment, flicking your tongue over the ridge of his head to watch him shiver before you move your mouth down over him. He groans at the feeling, watching you with his fingers tangled in your hair.

The thing about Frankie over these past few days is that he wants eye contact. It’s how he gauges how you’re feeling, how he expresses what he likes, and he’s desperate to keep his eyes on you. Even as his face gets red and his chest begins heaving with an impending orgasm, blinking rapidly with the want to close his eyes, he keeps them on you.

Your hands are resting on his legs and hips, holding him steady for you to bob your head up and down. You pause when you get as close to the base as you can, letting him feel the inside of your mouth for a moment before pulling off. Catching your breath, a string of spit connects you still to the head, watching another pearl dribble from him. “Holy shit, baby.” He heaves, fingers tightening in your hair. You move one hand off of him and guide it to the back of your head, covering his hand with yours.

Frankie’s brows furrow in confusion until you open your mouth as you push your own head back onto him. He whines, shutting his eyes and leaning his head back as you continue to guide him and yourself, wanting him to push you onto him. “You want me to fuck your face?” He groans, looking down at you again.

You nod as best as you can before letting go of his hand and placing it back on his hip, squeezing it in confirmation. He hisses out as he begins to gently push you forward, his other hand lifting off the counter to rest on your shoulder. As he pushes his hips forward, stopping just short of the back of your throat, his fingers tickle up the side of your neck, resting there experimentally. “You look s-so fucking good l-like this. H-holy shit, I…” Frankie is starting to babble, and you would smile if your mouth wasn’t already full. “You gonna swallow me, sweetheart?”

You moan as an approval, focusing your own bobbing to help him push you further onto him, digging your nails into his leg. He shouts your name in warning, thrusting forward without any further thought before finishing in your mouth. His chest is flushed red from what you can see from his shirt, a thin sheen of sweat over his neck and forehead reflecting in your overhead lights. He’s breathing heavily as you pull off, looking up at him as you swallow and open your mouth for him to see. “All gone.” You whisper hoarsely, biting your lip again when he groans.

He pulls you up, his pants still undone as he cups your face. “You can’t be doing that.” He sighs, leaning in to press his lips to yours, tongue searching your mouth. You give a surprised squeak at how his tongue twirls with yours, not caring if you still taste like him. “You’re too good at that. Won’t ever be able to last.”

You smile, pecking at his cheek. “That was the point, Frankie.” You laugh, looking down to pull up his pants around his hips. “Now, help me put the rest of these groceries away.”

Getting ready for this group outing is giving you anxiety you didn’t think you were capable of.

You’ve always gone out in groups when you’re with Anna; this really shouldn’t be any different. But something in the pit of your stomach is making you nervous, watching Anna put on highlighter in your mirror, yammering on and on about Santiago.

“He’s just so sweet to me.” She sighs, setting down a brush and looking at you through the mirror. You’re sitting on the closed lid of the toilet, feet up close to you as you let your nail polish dry. “I feel like I might be…too wild for him?”

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” You mumble, looking up at her. “He was in the military, he can’t be that sweet.”

“He still is, technically.” Anna shrugs. “Says he’s going to have to go down to South America again soon for a month or so. But he’s not mean or anything–doesn’t put me in my place ever and like…yeah that’s fine but I like a little bit of a fight, ya know?” She turns, scrunching up her face. “I say I want someone to always agree with me, but give me a little excitement!”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “It’s only been a few months, babe. Give it time, you guys will argue about something and you’ll come to me and ask why he’s so mean.” You tease, watching a small smile appear on her face as she turns back around.

“You’re probably right.” She sighs, brushing through her hair. “So…tell me about Frankie? Santi said Frankie is totally love-struck with you.”

You take a deep breath, standing up, and walking over to the mirror, grabbing your mascara. “He’s good. We’re….good. It’s still early but…” You debate how much to divulge to her, but then immediately decide to just say what you’re feeling. “I really like him.”

There’s a pause of tension in the air between you, Anna watching as you fidget to open the mascara tube. You don’t want to bring it up to your face until she responds, but staring at her is just as uncomfortable as pretending everything is fine. You jump when Anna squeals out, turning fully to you. “You like him!?” She’s smiling, she’s…happy for you?

“Well…yeah.” You crease your brow, smiling at her a little.

“My plan worked!” Anna jumps up and down, clapping her hands. “I knew setting you up with him was a good idea. Santi wasn’t sure about bringing him along that one time, said he’s quiet and needs space but it’s so perfect!”

You can’t help but smile at how excited she is for you, shrugging. “It’s only been a couple weeks but…Yeah, I really like him. I want to see where it goes.”

Anna nudges your hip with hers, looking at you expectantly. “You haven’t liked anyone in forever! I’m so happy for you.”

Her statement stops you in your tracks, looking at your reflection in the mirror before lifting the mascara to your face. “What do you mean, ‘not liked anyone forever’? That’s not true.” You step out into the hallway, waiting for her to follow you. A sharp knock comes to the door, announcing Santiago and Frankie’s arrival.

As she steps behind you, practically skipping, she shakes her head. “No, you haven’t! When was the last time you liked someone?” She scoffs, turning to you as you get to the door.

You pause, hand on the knob. You can hear Santiago and Frankie through the door. Their voices are hushed and sharp. You’re suddenly debating how much to tell Anna again-but not about Frankie. All those years ago you had been adamant about not telling Anna that you had actually had feelings for Brad when she whisked him away during a night out. You had convinced yourself that it was your fault for not telling her sooner, and you didn’t want to destroy your friendship with Anna by saying it. But now? She couldn’t actually think that you hadn’t been interested in people for literal years. “I mean, I liked Brad.”

“What?” Anna’s face falls, looking at you in confusion and shock as you open the door to Frankie looking confused at Santiago.

Frankie’s head snaps to yours, glancing at Anna before tilting his head. “Everything alright?”

You look at Anna, her eyes still on you and glazed over in thought. “You guys okay?”

Santiago looks at Anna, reaching for her shoulder and stepping into the apartment. “We’re fine. You okay, Anna? You ready to go to the fight?”

Anna looks down at her hands for a moment, then over at you, shaking her head. “Yeah uh…I’m ready.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier fic #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #something else

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