#\\ as i have yet to catch up with the series and write all of doctors info

[raplinesmoon]

원샷! (One-Shot!) - MYG X F!Reader

Part 1.5: Half The Man

series masterlist

pairing: Doctor!Yoongi x Doctor!Reader genre(s): crack, fluff, angst (i'm sorry) au(s): medical AU, idiots-to-lovers (not quite yet) word count: 1.7k chapter warnings: cynical Yoongi, Jeonghan cameo!, hospital talk, artificial insemination and pregnancy, sperm for insemnation switched without readers’ knowledge/consent, Yoongi has no filter, mentions of previously regretful acts done while drunk, arguments, lots of unresolved feelings, did I mention they’re idiots (affectionate), rating: 18+

summary: As your pregnancy progresses, Yoongi continues to wrestle with his long-standing feelings, culminating in an argument that has you making an unexpected move.

a/n: Hi, thank you so much to everyone that has shown love to this series. I'm so sorry that it took me so long to upload the second part, I struggled a lot to continue writing this partly because of my own insecurity, partly because of other things (which I don't want to get into). But Doc!Yoongi is so fun to write! I hope you enjoy!

disclaimer: I do not own, or have any affiliation with BTS. Any similarity between the version of the idol(s) mentioned and portrayed here and their real life counterparts is purely coincidental, and does not represent the thoughts and opinions of said idol(s). Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. This specific fic is based on the 2010 movie The Switch, which contains sensitive themes relating to accidental artificial insemnation, consent, and pregnancy. Please do your research before engaging with this fic, as these themes may not be for everyone.

The small splotch on Yoongi’s white coat, the byproduct of an accidental run-in with a very flustered Jeon Jungkook holding a very hot cup of coffee, had now turned into an unsightly bloom. Yoongi rubbed at the stain, cursing under his breath that he’d skipped laundry day this week.

To make matters worse, he’d gotten an impromptu page right in the middle of his lunch break. The three tiny beeps went off, and Yoongi’s face turned stark white.

“Oh no,” you gave him the most sympathetic look you could muster, your eyes turning misty. The pregnancy had thrown your hormones completely out of balance, the smallest inconvenience turning into enough to make you cry. “Jeonghan?”

“Jeonghan,” Yoongi sighs. 

…

The frigid air in Jeonghan’s office was nearly enough to rival the stare he currently possesses. Yoongi has to resist the urge to scoff. Yoon Jeonghan was the head of his department, full of pride with a face to match his inflated ego. A handful of years younger than Yoongi, he’d only gotten the position after Yoongi had turned it down multiple times, grumbling about how he was too busy taking care of real patients to deal with all the paperwork that department heads had to put up with. 

“I’m going to be very frank with you Dr. Min,” Jeonghan leans over his desk, a few stray papers falling to the floor. “You’re falling apart.” 

Yoongi bristles, shuffling his feet. He’d felt off ever since the night of your party, and even worse a few weeks later when you told him you were pregnant, all the memories coming back to him. He’d pushed it out of his mind, but clearly Jeonghan had noticed which meant it was affecting his work.

“Namjoon says you’re ordering X-rays and labs for your patients, but not coming up with any diagnoses.”

He straightens, heat coming to his face. “Dr. Yoon, I can explain—“

“No need, Dr. Min. The whole hospital knows you’re in love with ___. You don’t do a great job of hiding it.”

If there was ever a time Yoongi wished a sinkhole would open up and swallow the hospital whole, it was now (not that he’d thought about it before). Almost as if he can sense Yoongi’s sheer embarrassment, Jeonghan is by his side in no time, pulling up a chair to catch Yoongi’s unsteadily swaying figure.

“I’m too fucking sober for this conversation,” Yoongi groans, plopping into the comfortable cushion, Jeonghan looking on with an amused smile.

“That’s probably why Seungcheol also said he saw you throwing up in the hallway like a sorority girl the night of ___’s party.”

Yoongi cursed his stupid neighbour, who also happened to be one of the hospital’s charge nurses, for ratting him out. But then again, a free therapy session with his director was hard to come by, so maybe Yoongi would need to stop and buy Cheol a coffee sometime.

“He has a PhD from Harvard… HARVARD,” Yoongi whines, thinking back to the stupidly attractive man he’d met who was going to be your sperm donor.

“You’re just mad because ___ put you in the friendzone,” Jeonghan sighs.

“We put each other in the friendzone,” Yoongi interrupts, but Jeonghan waves him away.

“No, you had your chance six years ago when both of you started working here, and you blew it.”

“How did I blow it?” Yoongi questions, even though he knows exactly how – and what you’d say if he ever had the guts to ask.

“You went all Yoongi on her — it kills the vibes. You showed too much crazy too soon,” Jeonghan is moving around him now, picking up the stray papers, and Yoongi’s patience becomes thinner than the 11 blade he uses for procedures.

“Oh I’m sorry, did your extortionate divorce settlement teach you that?” He quips back, purposefully sliding his chair onto some of the sheets so Jeonghan can’t reach them.

“Yoongi, you sent me a picture of your armpit three weeks ago while I was in the middle of a surgery.”

“I thought I had a growth! You’re a doctor, you should want to help me!”

“Newsflash, Min, we’re all doctors in here.” And Yoongi knows Jeonghan’s right – he was eccentric, too much at times. But somehow, you never seemed to mind, from always having his back through his daily rants, to showing up at his apartment with a tub of ice cream after his call shifts so you two could make affogatos (Yoongi was nothing if not a caffeine addict).

He hears the door click shut behind him, and Jeonghan’s gone, leaving Yoongi alone with his thoughts, thoughts he’s had many times before. But somehow, it all feels different this time around. You’re pregnant with a child - his child, and you’re not supposed to be. It’s everything he’s ever wanted, and yet, he can’t have it because it would mean confessing that he’d messed up. And like Jeonghan, Yoongi much preferred to shut the door on things rather than let anyone in.

The moan you let out is borderline indecent, and probably not something you should be doing in the middle of your best friend’s apartment. But you were four months pregnant, and the tangy spice of the kkaenip-kimchi Yoongi had prepared for you at 1am was the best thing you’d ever put in your mouth.

“My eomma would have a heart attack if she saw you eating unfermented kimchi at 1am, she says—” 

“The fermentation is good for the baby, I know, I know,” you finish Yoongi’s sentence with a pout. “But I wanted kimchi now.”

“You’re lucky I’m Korean. What if you didn’t have a best friend like me and your random kimchi cravings hit?” Yoongi chuckles, his gums peeking out from one of his rare smiles. The dim lights from the city skyline reflect onto the window behind Yoongi, casting a faint glow over him, and you feel your heart flip-flop, unsure if it’s from nausea or something else.

“I would have gone to H-Mart or something, or called up Seokjin,” you mumble under your breath, but Yoongi, the ever preceptive one between the two of you, catches your hushed response.

“You’re still in touch with him?” His face is pale, a far-away look in his eyes, and you feel your stomach drop, a lead weight settling on your chest.

A strange heat crawls up your spine, and you feel yourself flush at the iciness in Yoongi’s tone, wanting to defend yourself.

“Of course I am Yoongi. The whole point of doing this was so that I could have a donor that I’d be able to meet face to face, look him in the eyes, shake his hand —”

“What, are you going to marry him or something?” Yoongi cuts through your rambling, eyes blazing. “I thought the whole point of this was having a baby. I thought he didn’t matter.”

“Obviously he matters, but not like that, I just–” you trip over your words, unsure why you’re growing so frustrated. This isn’t what you expected when you’d called Yoongi up asking for kimchi. “Why are you being so weird about this?”

“I’m not being weird,” Yoongi’s back is to you, shuffling around in the kitchen. He is being weird, refusing to meet your eyes. “It’s just – what if you meet someone tomorrow? Or in six months? What if you fall in love? Isn’t that an important part of this?”

“This isn’t like you Yoongi,” you shove your bowl of kimchi to the side, wrapping your coat around your arm. Yoongi pales, watching you get up to leave. “I’m not going to spend my life waiting for some what-if. I didn’t exactly dream of this okay? It wasn’t like I was sitting there suffering through med school, just pondering the idea of putting an ad out for a sperm donor one day! But this is real, and it’s happening, and even though you’ll never say it, you think I’m making the wrong choice. You’re supposed to be my friend!”

Your voice breaks at the last sentence, eyes filling with tears. Yoongi had always been there for every stage of your life, through all your terrible dates and failed situationships. He’d been your one constant, but lately it felt like he was fading, purposely removing himself from your life the moment you’d told him you were going through with this.

“I think we need to take some time apart. We need a time-out,” you throw your coat over your shoulders, and Yoongi stiffens, a choked sound escaping him.

“Already learning how to speak mom,” Yoongi quips, but his signature Yoongi humour isn’t enough to quell the rage filling your body. You don’t spare him a second glance, turning on your heel, letting the door slam behind you before you fall apart.

Yoongi wasn’t just your friend, he was so much more than that, but now you weren’t sure if he remained anything to you at all.

Jeonghan’s face is no longer smug when he breaks the news to Yoongi. You’re moving back home, claiming that the city is no place to raise a child. For once, Yoongi is thankful that the younger man doesn’t let his ego get in the way, opening the door to his office so Yoongi can lament in peace, the walls he’d built around his heart growing higher and higher. 

Two weeks later, you were gone. Yoongi stood with you as the moving trucks pulled up, watching you get choked up, the two of you barely having the guts to say more than a simple goodbye, for fear that you’d crack and say the wrong thing. 

Yoongi had always thought of himself as a mature, stable adult, but he fell apart at your leaving, feeling much like a child in need of constant attention. Your words ring back to him – a timeout. You’d left your friendship in constant purgatory – daily texts turned into once-a-week phone calls, which then turned into once-a-month emails, until you’d exchange Christmas cards once a year.

Seven years passed by in the blink of an eye - bringing with them two failed relationships, a stock market crash, a new roommate in the form of a poodle named Holly, and one phone call that changed everything.

A/N pt. 2: Thanks for reading! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

[defectiveporcelaindoll]

Chapter IV: The Prophecy

“Hand on the throttle. Thought I caught lightning in a bottle, oh– But it's gone again.”

series masterlist previous chapter

pairing: post-prison/ cm: evolution Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader (I like to think this is where Spencer is during the current seasons.) series synopsis: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life. cw: age gap (Spencer is 42, reader is 24 in chapter 1), Use of y/n's (I'm sorry, I know I'm sick of it too.), fake marriage, romance romancing, kisses, and touches but no smut (yet…maybe); Reader is feisty and flirty; Spencer is anxious and has an aggressive outburst; female reader she/her pronouns, and mentions of typical CM violence. wc: 2.5k of conversation and world-building

The drive back to the university was nearly silent, with only the hum of the engine and the rhythmic tap of the rain breaking the tension that still hung in the air from Spencer’s outburst. When they finally arrived home, an unmarked car with government plates was waiting for them.

With a sigh, Y/N moved to open her door, only stopping when Spencer reached out, taking her hand in his. “Wait—” His voice was soft and timid, melting a part of her soul. Her gaze shifted from the waiting officer to Spencer. He cleared his throat, his grip on her hand tightening. “I’m really sorry that I snapped at you. We were having a great night, and I hate that I might’ve made you feel unsafe in my company���”

Y/N’s brows knit together as she shook her head, turning to better face Spencer. Her free hand cupped his cheek as she leaned in, her nose brushing gently against his before their lips connected. “Hey…I could never feel unsafe with you, okay? I understand it’s the job, it’s tough, and it can get to you…but we’ll figure it out. We’re in this together…till death do us part or whatever.” She teased, desperately trying to lighten Spencer’s somber mood.

He chuckled, nodding his head gently against hers. “Yeah…okay.” He kissed her quickly before letting her hand fall away, getting out of the car, and rushing to grab her door for her.

The pair looked a sight—clothes still dampened from their frolicking in the rain, wild curls, and kiss-bruised lips. They looked more like a pair of high schoolers than professionals.

“Looks like you two had a good night,” the agent called, slamming his car door. He looked annoyed, or maybe that was just his face, Y/N thought, observing the new file box securely under one of his arms. “The press finally caught wind of this one; it’ll be all over the 11 o’clock news if you two are too busy…socializing.”

The agent smirked, his eyes raking over Y/N’s body, catching the way her dress clung to her curves, leaving little to the imagination.

“I’m going to need you to apologize—” Spencer started, taking a protective step in front of Y/N. She had to admit, the role of husband looked good on him. Her hand gently gripped his bicep, trying desperately to ground him. “Spence—” Her warning tone begged him to stop.

“Come on, bro, be serious. I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I mean, good for you, honestly, bagging a newer model?” The agent threw Spencer a wink.

“Newer model—?” Spencer’s brows shot up in disbelief as Y/N snapped, her brows knitting together. Her feet carried her towards the agent, and her fist connected hard with his jaw before she even had time to register what she was doing. She snatched the box and stormed into the house.

“And I look unstable—

Gathered with a coven round a sorceress table.”

“Em, sorry, I punched him. If you get a call saying that one of your agents punched Agent Asshat or whatever his name was, I take full responsibility. Go ahead and write me up.”

Y/N all but yelled into the phone sitting in the middle of the table, a very tired Emily Prentiss on the other end.

There was a muffled yawn from the other end. “Did he deserve it?”

Y/N sighed, “Well—”

“Yes,” Spencer cut her off, returning from the kitchen with a makeshift bag of ice for her hand. “We may have looked less than professional, but that doesn’t excuse his blatant misogyny, nor the way he was practically eye-fucking Y/N on our front lawn.” He huffed, sinking onto the sofa.

“Sounds like he deserved it…” Much to Y/N’s surprise, Emily didn’t sound upset. If anything, their unit chief sounded amused.

“Should’ve seen it, Emily. She would’ve made Morgan proud. I think she might’ve broken his nose,” Spencer chuckled, glancing over at his literal blushing bride with a cheeky grin.

Prentiss laughed. “I don’t condone violence…but good on you, kid. I’ll let you know if I receive that call, but if he’s the jack-off you’ve made him out to be, I doubt he’ll admit to his superiors that a woman broke his nose. Regardless, I won't be writing you up for this.” There was a brief pause, the sound of shuffling papers and drawers closing on Emily’s end. The time difference between Seattle and the District meant it was past midnight.

“You should go home, get some rest, Em. We’ll look over the newest crime scene photos and see if anything stands out. If it does, we’ll let you know. The agent made the comment that the press had the story…so we’ll keep an eye on that as well…”

Emily, ever the workhorse, sighed. “Fine…I’m going to head out of the office now, but as always, call me if you need me or if there are any urgent developments.”

“Have a good night, Em…” Spencer sighed, his head lulling back against the cushion as the line went dead. “How’s your hand?” he muttered quietly as he started unpacking the newest box of evidence onto their coffee table.

“It hurts…” she shrugged, flexing her fingers under the ice pack, “but I hope his face hurts more.”

Spencer couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he gazed at Y/N with pure admiration and pride. “Angel, I genuinely think you might’ve broken that idiot’s nose. I can almost—actually, no, statistically, I can guarantee his face will be hurting for a while, especially right now.”

“Pad around when I get home— I guess a lesser person would’ve lost hope.”

The night slipped by, the story was run, and the case stayed the same— unsolved. Nothing particularly groundbreaking was found at the crime scenes, and the MO and victimology were painfully consistent, which left little for Spencer or Y/N to analyze. It was driving Spencer crazy, how after nearly twenty years with the BAU, he found himself genuinely stumped.

In the coming days, everything suddenly became real. After their date, their kiss—it wasn’t just a cover story anymore. Spencer and Y/N no longer felt like characters in a tragic play. They were a couple, who kissed and held hands, who slept in the same bed and talked about their days.

Days turned to weeks, and before they knew it, August had slipped away like a bottle of wine. As the leaves began to change, the lines between reality and their cover began to blur. 

For the first time in a long time, Spencer was happy, and content in a life he had always imagined for himself—a wife, a home, a steady schedule. None of it was real, but if only for a moment, it was real to him. His classes ran smoothly, with students who weren’t just there because he had a pretty face—they cared, and it was groundbreaking. The university had even given him a TA to hopefully lighten his workload. She was sweet, not much older than Y/N, but working on a doctoral thesis in his field of expertise. All the pieces of this illusion had fallen perfectly into place.

"Still, I dream of her…"

Spencer woke with a start. He hadn’t had that particular nightmare in years, not since his brain had nearly bled out all those years ago, not since he saw Maeve that one last time. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath, his hands blindly searching for Y/N in the bed beside him… and then there she was, groggily furrowing her brows.

She wasn’t lying next to a psychopath in a pool of blood, cold and lifeless at his feet. She was in his bed, in his arms even, tangled in the sheets.

Memories and flashes of that night with Maeve, with Diane—the way she’d touched him, the way Maeve had looked. The cases were different, yes, but something felt very familiar to him. Reluctantly, he pulled himself out of bed, padding into the living room where the coffee table had been overrun by evidence from the newest murder. The body count was up to eight now, four couples, and the press was having a field day with this; they’d named the unsub The Albatross.

“Cautions issued, he stood shooting the messenger. They tried to warn him about her.”

The words danced across his mind, echoing in his ears as Spencer sat on the sofa, his eyes searching the crime scene photos desperately. The MO had shifted with the latest couple; the once precisely slit throats were no more, instead replaced by a single shot through the heart. The couple themselves were the same—an older man and a younger woman. However, with this couple, there had been an incident—a fatal shooting years back involving a stalker. Spencer shuddered at that information, his stomach twisting as he read the original case report.

“Shooting the messenger…” he scoffed, tossing the note back into the pile of evidence. He sat back, his head lolling tiredly against the back of the sofa as his mind worked overtime, assessing the words on the page as well as the previous notes left behind, trying to find any connection, any story or reason to the cryptic poem.

“What’re you doing up…?” Y/N’s sleepy voice caught him off guard. He turned to glance behind him at the half-asleep woman leaning against the hallway wall. “Rolled over and you weren’t there…” Y/N mumbled, trying to rub the sleep from her eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep…” he shrugged, trying to hide the fact that he’d been sleeping just fine—except for the haunting nightmare. He opened his arms for the younger woman, beckoning her to come and sit beside him on the couch. He needed to hold her, to know that she was real, but he wasn’t quite ready to get back in their bed just yet.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Y/N shuffled over, flopping down beside Spencer on the couch, her blurry eyes scanning the photos from the crime scene. She’d seen them earlier before they had inevitably decided to call it a night, but now, something she hadn’t noticed before caught her eye.

Without hesitation, she leaned forward, snatching up the evidence bag that held the latest note, her brow furrowing as she examined the reddish-brown splotches near the edge of the page. 

“Is that blood?” she asked, glancing back at Spencer as she handed it to him.

He stared blankly at the mess for a moment before reaching out for an evidence bag that held yet another cryptic poem—though this one was different—if only because he was fairly certain the unsub’s blood had dripped onto it, considering that when the lab had run it, there was no match to any victim. 

"Poisoned blood from the wound of the pricked hand."

“Oh—” Y/N shook her head, looking over the victim's hands…not a drop of blood.

“If it’s not from the victim, it’s sloppy…why not start over, why leave a trace behind?” she said softly, fighting a yawn as Spencer nodded slowly. 

“It’s almost like she's giving us a clue—”

“She?” Spencer asked, raising a brow. Dr. Spencer Reid was the king of picking out a female unsub, usually long before anyone else on their team. What had she seen that he’d missed? “How do you know it’s a woman? What stands out to you?” Spencer asked, leaning forward on the couch, observing the mess of case photos.

“Well, up until this last set…the husbands' throats are slit, and these notes are placed in their left palms. It’s brutal, but there’s an art to it.” She hummed, sinking back into the plush cushions of the sofa. “The wives, on the other hand, are laid out peacefully in bed with an albatross feather in their hands. It shows remorse—after the fact, the unsub is giving the women the respect that’s deserved…it's a different kind of death for the women."

“Okay, and what do you think the notes signify?” Spencer encouraged, slipping into teacher mode as his own mind raced a million miles a minute, putting together all of the points she’d made against the profile he’d been building in his mind.

“Well, they’ve always been in the left hand…ancient beliefs said the left hand was feminine, while the right was masculine. Other ancient stories point to your left hand being bad luck…which clearly…” she motioned to the gruesome photos before them with a sigh. “In some literary works, the left side symbolizes decay…death.”

Spencer nodded along. He’d already reached his conclusion, put the puzzle together, and built his profile. Now he was left to guide her, wait, and see if the younger agent would find her way to the same conclusion.

“Why slit their throats?” he asked softly, his eyes trained on the younger woman’s features, carefully analyzing every micro-expression he could find.

“Obviously, our unsub believes the husbands took something significant from their wives. The way our unsub is slitting their throats leads me to believe that she thinks it’s their voices or possibly their autonomy…I mean, we’re dealing with older men… I mean, it’s the history of man, right? To use women? Take something so simple but vital,” she said thoughtfully. “But it’s the albatross feather in the woman’s hand…such a heavy symbol, and you said before that the bird is associated with burden and guilt. It feels like the unsub is trying to release the wives from any guilt she believes they’re enduring…she’s just setting them free.”

Spencer nodded. “And this tells you what about our unsub?”

Y/N paused for a moment, thinking over the details before offering Spencer a small shrug and a heavy sigh, “Well, I would say that our unsub is a woman, and these men are surrogates…but she identifies with the wives and feels a need to avenge them.” She glanced up to meet Spencer’s eyes, desperate for the approval of the older agent, which he gave with a small nod, so she continued, “The careful way she arranges their bodies shows she has a sense of empathy… she sees herself in these women.”

“Exactly,” Spencer said with a warm smile. “Why do you think she targets older husbands?”

“She probably has a history with an older man—someone who dominated her or took away her voice. This is her way of reclaiming her power and avenging the other women she sees as victims.” Her voice trailed off, her eyes fluttering between Spencer’s eyes and his lips, as he leaned in to gently press a kiss to her forehead.

“Right…you are one hundred percent correct,” he sighed softly, his eyes raking over her delicate albeit exhausted frame with a frown. “And fortunately for us, this case will still be here when we wake up. Come on, let's get you back to bed…”

With a soft yawn, Y/N nodded, slowly rising to her feet, her hand outstretched for Spencer.

“Come on.”

"But I look to the sky and say

please…"

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I hope i got everyone! if you’d like to be added to the taglist don’t hesitate to lemme know and as always i’d love to know the thoughts and feelings! So sorry this took so damn long

xo

[thecharacterchronicler]

Friends With Benefits… And A Baby (Part 2 ) || Sebastian Sallow x Reader || Smut

Outline: You and Sebastian decide to be “friends with benefits” during your pregnancy.

Word count: 2’500

Warnings: explicit smut, (accidental) pregnancy, characters aged up (20s) and probably a few mistakes here and there because English isn’t my first language.

Author’s note: This is the second part of Exams, poltergeists and supply closets, hope you’ll all enjoy it as much as I enjoy writing this little series.

(( Part 1 - Exams, poltergeists and supply closets )) - (( Part 3 - Mandrakes, dusty books & an apology )) - (( Masterlist ))

“What’s wrong with you ?” Ominis asked, as you sat down at the dinner table, after rushing out of the Great Hall when a very smelly dish of fried fish appeared in front of you, the smell instantly making you nauseous.

“I gave her some Bertie Bott’s beans before dinner, guess she ate one that tasted like boogers.” Sebastian shrugged, in an attempt to cover for you but all it did was give you the urge to throw up again.

“I felt ill for a moment but I’m okay now.” You assured your friend, not so convinced by your words yourself. You placed a boiled potato on your plate, the only thing among the various other dishes on the table that seemed edible to you in your almost constant state of morning sickness.

“Maybe we should walk you to the infirmary after dinner.” Ominis suggested, obviously still very worried. “You haven’t eaten much these past few days, it might be more serious than you think.”

“How would you know ?” Sebastian asked, before you could come up with an excuse to refuse paying a visit to the school nurse. Surely, she’d know what’s going with you at first glance and then you wouldn’t be able to hide it from anyone much longer.

“I have ears, Sebastian. You eat loudly like an animal next to me every day and yet I can still hear that her fork and knife are barely touching her plate lately.”

“I’m fine.” You stated, as confidently as you could fake it. Yet, a wave of nausea came to prove you wrong, making you gasp and cover your mouth. You couldn’t decide between swallowing it down and staying at the table or running off to the bathroom once more.

“See ? There’s only so many days she can go on without eating, it could be dangerous.” Ominis pleaded, and Sebastian’s gaze landed on the small potato in your plate, that you were pretty sure you wouldn’t eat anyway. Then, he looked up at you, his expression now as worried as your friend’s.

“Maybe he’s right. Maybe we should get you checked up, just to be safe.”

“I’m fine.” You repeated, once more. The only thing stronger than your all day sickness was the irritation you felt towards your friends at this very moment. You were determined to finish your last year at Hogwarts normally, passing your exams as brilliantly as you could and graduating with pride. The baby that Sebastian put in your belly will have no choice but to go along with your plan.

“The Gaunts are important contributors to the Saint Mungo hospital, if I send an owl I might be able to get a doctor to visit you here if it makes you more comfortable.” Ominis suggested, which brought you to the conclusion that there was no point in keeping it a secret from him any longer. Would he still be insufferably worried about you if he knew the truth ? Probably. But at least he would stop pestering you about seeking medical attention, if only temporarily.

“I’m fine, Ominis.” You stated again, for the third time at this dinner table. He opened his mouth to protest but you leaned closer, lowering your voice. “I’m pregnant, that is all.”

“Pregnant ? That is all ?!” Ominis exclaimed, repeating your words in disbelief before both you and Sebastian urged him to keep it down. You were sitting at the very end of the dining table but students nearby might still catch a glimpse of your conversation. “What were you two thinking ?! Do you have any idea of the gravity of such a situation ? What it means for your future ? By Merlin, what on earth went through your head to let you think that you two absolutely reckless lunatics could be capable of raising a child ?”

“H-How do you know it is mine ?” Sebastian asked him, surprised.

“Oh please, you both can’t shut up about each other when you’re not together.” Ominis retorted, as if it was the stupidest question his friend had ever asked him.

You exchanged a look with Sebastian, both of your faces blushing.

“What were you thinking ?” Ominis asked once more, shaking his head much like you imagined your disappointed parents will when they’ll find out.

“To be fair, not much went through my head the moment it happened.” Sebastian said, smugly.

“You should have controlled yourself, Sebastian !” Ominis scolded him, as you desperately tried to hush him up again.

“Easy for you to say, you weren’t there. If you heard the way she moans when she likes it and felt how wet…”

“Alright, that’s enough.” You interrupted before he got too carried away with very private details. “There’s no point having this conversation, it happened and now we have to deal with it.”

“At least this child will have one reasonable parent.” Ominis hissed, shaking his head at Sebastian, still way too cocky about it all next to him.

You were sitting down on the cold bathroom tiles, your back pressed against the wall, trying to focus on your homework. You barely noticed the door opening until you realized someone was standing in front of you, a concerned expression on his freckled face.

“This is the girls’ bathroom.” You informed him, which simply made him shrug.

“Imelda told me you were here.” He said, approaching and crouching down to your level, taking in the open books on the tiles with an amused smile. “I’m not sure we’ll be able to keep our secret if you move in into the bathrooms.”

“It’s just so I don’t have to run across the castle every time I need to throw up.” You explained. “Nobody will notice, when I told Imelda I had a stomach bug she just told me to stay away from her because she’s planning on winning the Quidditch cup this year.”

“You have friends that are more caring than Imelda Reyes.” He said, making a point. “And you know, I did some research in the library last night and found out that the best way to beat morning sickness is to actually eat.”

“But I’m not hungry.”

“Not at all ? Isn’t there something you’d be happy to eat ? Whatever it is, I’ll go get it for you.”

You smiled at him, grateful to have such a caring friend. Because that’s what he was to you, right ? Just a friend. A friend that happened to be your future baby’s daddy… But still, just a friend.

His traits softened as he smiled back at you, moving to sit on the floor by your side. His shoulder pressed against yours and you found relief in his familiar scent of old dusty books and faint remains of smoke, your nausea easing up a bit for the first time in days.

“Do you need help with…” He reached out to check the cover of the book on your lap. “One thousand magical herbs and fungi ?”

“I do but not yours if I want a chance to get a good grade in Herbology.” You replied playfully, which made him laugh.

“Fair enough.” He shrugged, his hand absently finding yours, letting it rest on your thigh as your fingers intertwined together. “We’ll figure it out, you know.”

“I know.” You nodded, knowing that he wasn’t talking about school anymore.

“And if we look at the positive aspect of it all, it means we can hook up as much as we want to for the next eight months without having to worry about getting you pregnant.”

“Right.” You rolled your eyes at his words, your giggle resounding against the bathroom tiles.

“And there’s no better way to find your appetite back than a bit of exercising.” He insisted, jokingly but you knew he definitely was trying his luck under the guise of making you laugh.

“Do you really think that would be reasonable ? I don’t think that’s something friends do.”

“We can be friends with benefits… And a baby.” He shrugged, unaware of how tempting the idea was to you. His presence next to you was the only thing that had managed to ease your symptoms and, if you were being totally honest, Sebastian Sallow had never looked more handsome than right now, with his sleeves rolled up and his tie slightly loosened, his hair tousled and that odd pride you saw in his smile every time he talked about hooking up with you - and getting you pregnant - that definitely made up for the slight panic you still sometimes noticed in his gaze.

“Okay.” You nodded, breaking the silence that had taken place between the two of you.

“Okay ?” He repeated, his brown eyes widening in surprise. “You… You want to do it ?”

“Yes, why not ? It’s not like I’d be comfortable hooking up with Garreth in the boat house anymore, anyway.” You replied, adding that last part to mess with him, not expecting the instant jealousy that took over his features.

“Garreth Weasley ?! This walking fire hazard…” Sebastian groaned, his hand tightening its grip on yours possessively. You smiled, flattered that your friend cared so much about you.

He was still mumbling to himself some colorful words about Garreth when you leaned in and pressed your lips against his to silence him. At first, you felt his surprise but soon, he kissed you back, his body irresistibly gravitating closer.

“What if someone walks in ?” He asked, when you moved to reach for his pants, taken aback by your boldness. The first time you had crossed the line of friendship with him, you had sounded so shy and cautious that he couldn’t quite believe you were the one with your hand inside his pants this time, fishing for his rapidly growing erection.

You knew you were breaking school rules by doing this. Again. And you promised yourself that next time, you’ll make sure to abide by the regulations and find another location, out of Hogwarts, to have your fun with Sebastian... But right now, your need for him was too urgent to be ignored. The images of that night in the supply closet were haunting you every night, to the point you sometimes could feel his kiss on your lips and his warm touch on your body in the darkness and loneliness of your dorm room. But you knew nothing could compare to the real thing, and having the opportunity to actually see him while giving in to your desires was something you didn’t have the strength to refuse.

“Then they’ll think that we hook up in bathrooms and won’t question why I’m in here that often anymore.” You told him to ease his concern, the heat of his cock in your hand making you wonder if he had a sudden rush of fever. You pulled it out of his pants, shamelessly looking down at it. He gulped and blushed in front of your fascination, your thumb carefully caressing his pink tip, collecting the clear and sticky precum that was already coating it. His cock was still growing, getting longer and harder in your palm, the veins under his flesh becoming more and more apparent. Then, it was your turn to gulp down and blush as you took in the size of it, wondering how you had even managed to take it all in without any pain the first time.

You lifted your eyes and met Sebastian’s gaze, staring at you with still a slight pink blush coloring his freckled cheeks. You had been so bold that he was waiting on you to take the lead and be in charge, this new side of you not helping him control himself and his urge to tear your school uniform off of your body and show you how wild he could get when it came to fucking you.

“Can I see you too ?” He asked, managing to act like a gentleman, although he truly wasn’t one, judging by the amount of filthy thoughts he had about you and what he wanted to do to you on a daily basis.

“Alright…” you agreed, your voice trembling slightly. You could understand his curiosity, after all, he hadn’t seen anything of you in that dark closet a month ago, only felt your body against his but your self confidence wasn’t at its best after being sick for almost an entire month, with your hormones acting up to make it worse.

He carefully reached out, popping open the buttons of your shirt one by one until you were left with nothing but your bra on. He looked at you questioningly, and you nodded, giving him a silent permission to remove it too.

His eyes instantly widened when your bra dropped on the tiles, your bare chest exposed to him.

“I didn’t think they would grow so much in so little time.” He stated, clearly dumbstruck by the view.

Your hand returned to the hard buldge between his legs, perking up at your touch as you closed your hand around it and pumped it up and down a few times, pulling him out of his daze and making him gasp in reaction. You didn’t think it possible but the movements made his cock grow even bigger and larger.

A groan dropped from his lips as he momentarily closed his eyes, as if he was struggling to keep control over himself.

“Sit.” He told you, his voice so low it sent shivers down your spine. His hands flew to your waist, already maneuvering you to get you in a sitting position over his lap.

You held your skirt up, your legs pressed on the cold tiles on either side of his thighs. His hand slipped underneath your clothes so swiftly you didn’t notice at first, until you felt his fingers pulling your panties aside, baring your very wet pussy.

With his other hand still on your waist, he guided you down until you were low enough for his erection to push past your entrance, stretching your walls as you sank lower and lower until his full size rested inside you.

You gasped at the sensation, your hands on his broad shoulders to help you support yourself and he grinned, the hand between your legs moving all the way up to your hair, gripping on a piece and pulling them back so that you’d bare your neck to him, allowing him to plant a few wet kisses all the way down to your collarbones as you still adjusted to his size inside you.

You slowly moved your hips in wide circles, exploring the pleasant sensations it sent throughout your entire body. He seemed to enjoy it too, his breathing instantly becoming ragged and desperate.

When you pushed on your knees, pulling yourself up before sitting back down and impaling yourself on his hard cock once again, you heard him curse under his breath. One of his hands held your skirt scrunched up in his fist while the other found your hip, guiding you in a faster rythym as you rocked up and down onto him many more times.

He pulled you closer to feel your swollen boobs on his face, appreciating the way they moved in synch with your hips, wanting to bury his face between them until he suffocated. Your moans and whimpers were causing his mind to go blank once again, unable to think about anything other than the pleasure you were apparently having while bouncing on his cock.

You dug your nails in his shoulders, the bliss bubbling up in your core becoming so intense it was almost unbearable. You would have slowed down, afraid of the strength of your own imminent orgasm, but Sebastian kept guiding you at an unrelenting pace, his tip hitting so deep inside your core each time that you barely managed to not let out a scream that could have echoed through the castle’s hallways, your body violently shaking and tensing with the pleasure that spilled into every fiber of your being.

Sebastian had been holding himself back from the very moment you pulled his cock out of his pants. In all honesty, he could have cummed in your hand right then and there but he had fought it long enough to make sure that you’d enjoy it too. He wanted to make you feel good as it felt like the only thing he could do to help you out right now, and now that your body had collapsed over him, effectively suffocating him with your plump chest, crying out his name in a way he would never forget, he allowed himself to come too, shooting his full load inside your still pulsating pussy.

“Are you okay ?” Your voice asked him, after a moment, your chest moving away from his face and leaving him cold.

“Of course.” He answered, panting and smiling. “What about you ?”

“I’m fine.” You told him which, for the first time in days, wasn’t a lie. You moved to sit next to him, his spent cock gliding out of you easily, drops of his white release lightly staining his pants and your skirt in the process. “You know, I think I’m kind of hungry now.”

“Ah! I told you it would work !” He exclaimed, excitedly. “What do you want to eat ?”

“A waffle with chocolate.” You told him, without hesitation.

“Alright, a chocolate covered waffle coming right up !” He nodded, immediately jumping to his feet, adjusting his clothes and walking away, determined to bring you exactly what you had requested. Surely, he’d be able to bribe a house elf for a waffle. And if not, he would sneak into the kitchen and cook one for you himself, how hard could it be ?

♡ - (( Tip Jar )) - ♡

[poppadom0912]

Hii! 🙋🏻‍♀️

I saw that you are accepting requests, can I request an imagine with Jay Halstead where he and the reader (a surgeon) don't get along very well and, as fate would have it, they both live in the same building. One night the reader discovers that there is a camera hidden in the lampshade that she got from a strange guy, so the guy threatens her and Jay protects her. 😅❤️

Sorry for my English.

Warnings: Stalking/pedo men, brief hospitals, small injuries, and swearing.

A/N: Now that my series is done, I can finally get to completing and putting out all these requests. I wrote this in school. And do not apologise for your English, it was perfect.

Life is stressful right now so I lowkey got carried away writing this because it's somehow nearly 3k words but please do enjoy this!!

You weren’t too sure when it all actually started but it was too late to reverse time now.

Growing up, there was no way to avoid the Halstead brothers because all the way throughout your childhood up until the age of eighteen, you all went to school together and outside, your mothers were near inseparable. You could never catch a break.

What made matters even more confusing was that you didn’t mind Will, on fact, the two of you were quite good friends. You tolerated Will and with both your combined loves for medicine, an inevitable friendship bloomed but even with this, you and Jay just could not get along.

The only time you ever found solace was when the two of you finally parted ways after high school. You remained in Chicago to become a doctor and later surgeon while Jay, he spontaneously decided to enrol to become an army ranger. Your shock could not be hidden.

With both brothers out your life, days were so much more simple. From time to time, you wouldn’t say it aloud but you missed Wil’s company but Jay, his absence almost made it as though he never existed in the first place. And yes, maybe that was a bit cruel but the genuine hatred you had at the mere thought of him or the sight of his face, it made you want to hurl.

And the rest was history. Even with the more recent parts being a bit more pleasant yet depressive, your pure hatred for him didn’t seem to wane.

*****

Fast forward a few years and this is how it all is: your father remained ever so absent, both mothers passed away several years ago, Pat died last year, you and Will worked together and you and Jay weren’t exactly civil.

Living in the same building, on the exact same floor and literal doors apart could only do so much damage.

Today had been a very, very long day. You had just been on shift for a double that had run over because of the complicated surgery that almost went sideways last minute. You were practically dead on your feet. You loved trauma surgery as much as the next trauma surgeon but you could go without blood and scalpels for the next few hours because sleep was calling your name like a siren song.

Upon Connor’s insistence, he drove you home because he expressed his fear of you sleeping on the train and never getting off.

Finally in your apartment building, you dragged your feet to your door, your keys almost missing the hole due to your sudden misalignment. Your mind was nearing haziness but with one final push, you were inside and collapsed on your bed.

Sleep was instant. It was expected but you also weren’t surprised when you knocked out and woke up randomly at two in the morning. You felt semi-rejuvenated but you could definitely sleep for longer.

Drowsily, you stripped out of your clothes, chucking them towards the basket before walking into the bathroom. Doing what you needed to do, you returned and searched for comfortable pyjamas that were good enough for this heat.

Standing half naked in your own bedroom in the apartment that you rented alone was a completely normal thing to do. Never in your life did you need to be paranoid or extra careful. You were in the comfort of your own home, so why was there the need to be riddled with anxiety.

Well, apparently you should’ve because as you pulled you cotton shorts on, rummaging through your draw for an oversized shirt, you caught a miniscule red dot. You were so tired you contemplated if it was a hallucination but a few minutes later, remaining in the same position, the nano dot was still there.

Diverting your attention to the suspicious dot, you threw on a random shirt but somehow, during the milliseconds your head spent under the shirt before it reappeared, the red dot disappeared.

Now you were on edge. Sleep didn’t come as easy this time.

In the morning, everything looked the same. Going around, you tried to look for anything that could’ve been tampered with but alas, everything was in tip top condition. Maybe you really were so out of that that you were delusional, it all really could’ve been a hallucination.

You had a few more hours before you needed to go back to work and considering the state of your empty fridge, grocery shopping seemed like a promising idea.

Your sweetening mood however quickly turned sour at the familiar sight of a certain detective standing down the hallway, walking in the same direction as you towards the buildings only elevator.

Sighing in disappointment, you readjusted the tote bag on your shoulders and walked ahead anyway. There was no way you were letting this man ruin your mood.

Being stuck in the elevator though, it did ruin your mood a little.

For once in your entire life though, Jay didn’t rile you up. He didn’t say anything nor did he even attempt to roll his eyes when he saw you. It was weird, he barely even acknowledged you.

And you hated to admit it, but you didn’t like it. As much as you despised the man, Jay acting as if you were a ghost was something that irked you. But obviously, you were never going to tell him that, it’d only boost his already enormous ego.

*****

“You look like a rat.”

“Ha ha, you’re so funny.”

You took it all back. Everything you said two days ago, you were taking it all back. Jay could rot and burn in hell and you still wouldn’t care.

Over the course of twelve hours, something must’ve changed because Jay’s renewed vigour was back and it was here to stay. You didn’t relish his silence long enough because the second he opened his mouth, your headache returned.

Next time, you were dragging Will and forcing him to escort you up to your apartment door because at least then he’d save you, he’d make this all much more bearable.

The sudden change in weather suited your mood, the rain mimicking your emotions that Jay was only half responsible for. The other half was a result of your newly achieved paranoia and anxiety that made itself known whenever you came home.

No matter where you searched or how many hours you slept, the red dot came and then disappeared again. It was annoying and it came to the point that you tried avoiding you bedroom especially as much as possible. To not be comfortable and safe in your own home wasn’t right.

Rolling your eyes, you fished your keys out of your bag and ignored whatever Jay was saying. You’d known him for so long that blocking out his voice had become second nature, it was something you did subconsciously.

You wished his apartment was before yours, that way at least you could have some peace but life worked in funny ways.

Stopping in front of your door, you were just about to unlock it when your body froze.

“What’s wrong?”

The sudden change in your mood caught him off guard, your frozen body worrying him slightly. He might’ve shared your feelings of hostility but you were his older brothers best friend, which had to count for something.

Following your line of sight, Jay’s eyes hardened at the unlocked door, a slither of light leaking out from inside as the door sat ajar. You definitely locked it this morning, there was no doubt about it.

Maybe you had the right to be paranoid. Perhaps you should’ve acted on it sooner.

Not wasting another second, Jay pushed you behind him and drew his gun. With his shoe, he gently nudged the door open and began surveying the apartment bit by bit with practised precision.

You hadn’t seen the man in action for a while now, it was weird to see him so proper and serious.

With nothing out of place and all valuable belongings safe and sound, Jay deduced that for now, things should be fine but if need be, if anything was out of the ordinary, he was the first person you called.

And for the first time ever in over thirty years, you made Jay a promise.

*****

You kept to your promise. This was a matter you weren’t going to mess around with, even if it was with Jay.

You had just come out of the shower, hair dripping wet, shorts and an oversized shirt on because despite the rain it was still humid and the summer heat wasn’t going away anytime soon.

Stepping into the dark room, you started patting your hair dry with a towel and walked towards the lamp so there was at least some lighting. A dimly lit room made you feel less paranoid.

It was upon turning the lamp on though did your anxiety peak. This new height it reached making it hard for you to breathe all of a sudden.

Without even thinking of the consequences, Jay’s number was the first thing you found on your phone, his contact name pressed within seconds of your discovery.

Heart pounding out of your chest, you forced yourself to move at the sound of the door. This fear was almost paralysing, you didn’t even know what to make of all of it.

“What happened?” Jay’s concern was immediate. All you did was call him and he came over without question. Your call alone told him enough.

You stared at him wide eyed, words lodged at the back of your throat but they wouldn’t go any further than that. Remaining wordless, you simply grabbed his wrist and dragged him towards your room and he followed obediently.

Your bedroom was now back to pitch black; you turned the lamp off straight away because the pyjamas you wore left little for imagination. That trail of thought made you want to be sick.

Jay stood beside you; your hand still wrapped around his wrist tightly while your other still held the wet hair towel that you probably should put away. He surveyed the dark room, taking it all in and trying to poke out anything out of the ordinary.

It was only when you tugged on his wrist, his head turning down to you before following your line of sight and pointed finger towards your innocent looking lamp that idly sat on your bedside table.

But it turned out to be not so innocent after all. Jay immediately saw the red dot no matter its small size, he saw it straight away and alarm bells went off.

Gently prying your fingers off his wrist, Jay holstered his gun and strode towards the lamp, tilting the lamp shade as he fiddled with something underneath. It didn’t take long before he stood up to his full height with a small black square in his palm.

This all-escalated way too fast for your liking.

*****

Jay refused to let you see anything from what he told you was a camera; he wouldn’t let you see it even for a price but he did briefly talk about what he saw in very little detail. What he told you was more than enough to make you want to bleach your body in a bath and move out of state to a place no one would know you.

Jay also wasn’t one hundred percent confident in letting you return back to your apartment alone. That’s how you found yourself wrapped in a blanket sitting cross-legged on his sofa, hiding yourself and your body from the world. Even with your shirt and shorts on, you felt liked dying at the thought of a man staring you down with intentions all but pure.

Gosh, you wanted to be sick.

Slowly sipping some water from a cup Jay silently handed you, you tried relaxing, rotating your shoulders to try release any of the tension but you failed. Fidgeting with anything was the only way you were able to not focus on the conversation Jay was having on the phone in the next room over. He was probably most likely talking to someone else from Intelligence.

The rest of the night, well more very early morning really, Jay explained the plan about how Intelligence were going to go about this but it would all happen in the morning at an actual suitable time.

With much bickering, Jay forced you into his bed as he took the sofa. It was weird that this was the most civil and even most nicest interaction the two of you ever had in either of your lifetimes. You wouldn’t tell him this unless under a life-or-death situation, but you kind’ve liked it. When Jay wasn’t being such a bastard, he was actually kind of decent.

Goodness, thinking about him was not something you would’ve ever thought of doing before yet here you were, thinking about your childhood nemesis at work.

The morning was relatively fine sprinkled with bits of awkwardness. Jay forcefully drove you to work when you insisted on going in today despite his attempts of getting you to stay home. If you tried and told Ms Goodwin the truth, she was very likely to give you the day off. Your stubbornness didn’t wane though.

You shift was normal, going from boring and mundane to fast paced just how you liked it. Nothing changed and it was relieving to be surrounded by familiarity and some sort of routine, it was a big distraction from the mess waiting for you at home. You tried keeping yourself occupied at every moment because any second you got alone with your deprecating thoughts, you were for sure going to spiral to a dark place.

And you’d been doing a great job at keeping busy till a certain detective walked in through the ED doors.

From the corner of your eyes, nothing about him looked off but when you squinted and walked towards him, you could make out a bloody gash poking out from his ripped jacket sleeve.

Now, Jay being hurt at work was nothing new. In fact, it was to be expected and you’d never been too bothered by it unlike Will was whenever his injured brother walked in so casually like it was another normal Wednesday.

However, you knew what he was doing at work today and your concerns peaked to such a height that Will had no reason to be worried anymore; you took it all from him.

“What happened?” You tried to remain somewhat calm, schooling your face as you dragged his non-injured arm towards an empty treatment room. Internally, you were glad Will was in surgery otherwise he’d be smirking and laughing like a manic at the sight he was seeing, a sight he’d never even envision in his dreams.

“We found the guy.” Jay ignored your question, begrudgingly sitting down on the bed, rolling his eyes when you wouldn’t let him get up. “We arrested him. Platt’s booking him as we speak.”

And just like that, all the weights pushing you down under the ground dissipated and you were beyond relieved.

You hands faltered as they went to grab some gauze, your eyes looking up to see whether or not he was lying but the soft smile spread across his lips, you didn’t need to question his credibility.

Without thinking, your arms wrapped around his shoulders and interlocked around his neck. Instinctively, you squeezed him a little, eyes shut as you relished in the good news. For a while, the world around you didn’t exist before it all came rushing back.

Suddenly, you abruptly pulled back, eyes wide in shock as your actions sunk in. Pressing your lips together tightly, you avoided eye contact and went back to preparing the gauze and butterfly strips, maybe even some wipes to see the real extent of the damage your stalker inflicted onto Jay.

Jay huffed in amusement and you could feel his eyes burning into the side of your head. All of a sudden, you felt the need to smother his god forsaken handsome face-

What the fuck? There was no way you just thought that.

“He looks worse than me, don’t worry.” Jay started again, a smug smirk on his face as he spoke, his eyes not moving from your face. “He was being a bit of a dick so I roughed him up a little. This little nick is nothing.”

And for once, you didn’t doubt the truth behind his words. You fondly rolled your eyes before going to clean his bicep that was no longer covered by his jacket.

“My saviour.” You smiled placatingly, making brief eye contact before breaking it. “What would I have done without you.”

And for once again, there was no sarcasm dripping from your words. Behind them lay mostly the truth and maybe a hint of your typically sarcasm but without his help, who knows what would’ve happened.

“All in a days work.” Jay’s face didn’t change, his expression not moving a single bit. For a reason beyond your medical and surgical knowledge, you blushed, cheeks randomly feeling flushed.

Maybe now with childhood rivalry forgotten and shoved aside, things between the two of you could get better.

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : BF!Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : pregnancy ; no childbirth (yet?) ; mention of an abortion ; Felix is a POS ; angst no fluff ; Word Count : 2.5k Request : @lovesunshinefelix : can I get an angsty felix request diff from his pregnancy series wherein felix is an absolute fucking asshole and left the reader when he found out they were pregnant, u decide what happens next surprise me AN : I hope that you are thoroughly surprised by this, I hate making him the asshole honestly, but at the same time I absolutely love it!! I just love writing stuff like this!! I hope you love this girlie, this is for you!

Double pink lines showed on all six white tests that were evenly spaced along the bathroom counter. They were dark, they were undeniable, not a single discrepancy is any of them. It was a fact now… You were pregnant, and your boyfriend… he was on tour, for the next three months. 

It’s not that you didn’t want to tell him, it was quite the opposite actually. You wanted him to know, but he was such a sweetheart, he cared about you so much, you knew that if you told him during the tour, he’d drop everything just to come home and be with you. It was the early stages of your pregnancy, and you knew that for now, you’d be able to handle whatever was thrown your way, whether it be symptoms or doctors appointments. It was easier to hide right now too, you didn’t have to worry about him catching on. If he questioned why you hid it from him, your main reason was that you weren’t sure if the pregnancy was 100% yet. The first 12 weeks were the scariest and the most uncertain, and you didn’t want him or yourself to get too excited, especially if it ended in a miscarriage. It was a valid reason, and it had you keeping your mouth shut until he came through the front door. 

Unexpected and unplanned was the announcement at your 12 week ultrasound, that not only were you pregnant, but you were having twins. Two babies, and you rightfully panicked for a second because that was… It wasn’t planned to even get pregnant with one, let alone two, but you knew that with Felix by your side, you’d be able to get through it. He was the ray of sunshine that you held tightly onto whenever things seemed to be a little too hectic, or when things started to feel like a little too much. 

As the weeks passed on though, you started to just… Get used to the fact that you were carrying two children, and maybe it was a maternal instinct, maybe it was the fact that they were his children, or maybe it was a bit of both that had you growing excited even at the thought of having this little family with him. You couldn’t wait to tell Felix, you couldn’t wait to officially start this journey into parenthood with him by your side. It would only be a couple more days until he came back home, and now you were giddily counting down the days to tell him the exciting news. 

“I think we caught every single red light on the way here.” Felix exclaimed as he trodded through the front door, his suitcases parked off to the side as he kicked off his shoes. “Hey, angel… You look beautiful as always. Did ya miss me?” He asked, the irritation that had initially coated his words seemed to be shaken off as soon as he laid eyes on you sitting on the couch. Your smile was bright as you watched him, anticipation building in your stomach and sending a shiver through you. 

“Of course I did. I always miss you.” You chimed from the couch, making sure to keep yourself covered with the thick throw blanket so that he wouldn’t see your stomach. It had grown quite a lot already, something that was both shocking, but also expected considering you were having twins. “How was the flight?” You wanted to make small talk, just so he could get settled back in before you dropped the news on him, although you were quite certain he’d take it well, you just didn’t want to shock him immediately. 

He rolled his shoulders and his neck, stretching his arms up as he walked into the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge to grab a bottle of water before making his way to the couch to drop down beside you. “It was good, not as comfortable as being able to sit or lay beside you, but it was bearable. Changbin didn’t snore too loud behind me, so I got a good amount of sleep so I’d be well rested when I got home to you.” His arm draped over your shoulder as he leaned against you. “I couldn’t wait to see you again.” 

Now was your chance, he was in a good mood, he was rested, he was close to you, now all you had to do was tell him. “I couldn’t wait to see you either… I’ve got some pretty big news to tell you.” Even though you were almost 100% certain that he’d take it well, you couldn’t help the jitters that coursed through your body causing your voice to tremble with your nerves. His eyes widened as well as his smile, his body turning almost completely to give you his full attention before nodding to you to tell you to continue. “I’m… I’m pregnant! They're twins!” 

And while your excitement seemed to grow exponentially from telling him, his dwindled to nothing almost immediately. His smile fell and his eyes wavered, his hands pulling away from yours to fold in his lap. “You’re… Sure about this? You’ve… You’ve been to the doctors and everything for it?” He questioned, and maybe he was just nervous about getting excited too soon, so you quickly nodded, reaching out to grab his hands in an act of reassurance that everything would be okay, that everything was okay, but he moved his hands away from yours, shoving them in his pockets as he jumped up off the couch. “How far along are you?” He blurted out quite harshly, and while you were used to him apologizing almost immediately after sounding so rude, the apology never came. 

“I’m… Almost four months…” You whispered, slowly pulling back the blanket to show him the swell of your stomach, and you saw his chest rise, puffing out with the large breath that he took in. “It’s okay though… They’re okay, they’re healthy.” You once again tried to reassure him, assuming that his panic was caused by not being there when you found out. 

“I don’t care about that! I’ve got five months to figure out how the hell I’m going to juggle my job and paying child support to not just one, but two fucking kids!” He rambled, but the mention of child support had your head tilting to the side, your lips parting to question what he meant, but you couldn’t seem to find the words. “Don’t look at me like that… You know that I can’t do this. I’m too fucking young to deal with my job and two fucking kids. I didn’t want this… You threw this on me!” 

With every single word, it was like a vicious attack, and that beautiful future that you had spent the past couple weeks imagining started to spin, like a tornado, the images a whirling vortex that were sent down the drain. “I thought… I thought that you’d be happy. You always talked about having a life together… Spending forever together… Where did that go?” The sight of him rolling his eyes had your stomach tightening and your nerves kicking into overdrive. This wasn’t how this was supposed to go… This wasn’t what you had planned on at all. “I-I.. I didn’t want this either… I’m young too…” 

He scoffed, his nose crinkled into a look of disgust as his eyes flickered down to your stomach and then up to your face. “I didn’t ask you to keep them. If you would have told me sooner, I would have told you to abort it, get rid of it.” It was like a stab, a gunshot, there was bile rising in your throat at the thought of getting rid of the two little beans that had become such a big part of you, you honestly couldn’t imagine not having them in your tummy. “And don’t even try to make it seem like I’m the bad guy in this. You sprung this shit on me as soon as I got back from a fucking tour… That should have been your first sign. I mean, what did you think would happen? Everything would be sunshine and rainbows and I’d be this happy go lucky guy somehow maintaining a career where I’m constantly in the fucking spotlight, during brand sponsorships and bunch of other shit… And you just… You expect me to have time for you? For children? You’ve gotta be out of your mind.” 

And maybe you were, maybe you had lost sense of the reality of your relationship and how hard it was to actually see him, how little you spent time with him. Maybe you really were out of your mind as he had said, thinking that being pregnant would somehow bring him closer to you instead of pushing him away. “I wasn’t going to do that…” You mumbled, your hand moving down to rub over your stomach, seeming to be your own source of comfort now that Felix was clearly disgusted by you. “You don’t have to worry about anything… You don’t even have to pay child support. You’re right… I sprung this on you and… You obviously don’t want any parts of it. I’m not going to force you…” 

Letting out a humorless chuckle, he folded his arms over his chest, glaring down at you. “Oh, sure. You say that, but once it gets to be too much for you, you’ll be trying to take me to court. It’ll make front page news online and then you’ll get the pity party. I can see it now.” It was pretty eye opening to see now just how lowly he thought of you. You had been blinded by the rays of sunshine that seemed to radiate off of him whenever he was around, but it was like you had put on sunglasses, you could block those out, and now you could see who he truly was. 

“I’m not taking you to court.” You snapped, having enough of him being not just an asshole, but ruthlessly so. “You’re not the man that I thought you were, and you’re definitely not the man that I want in my children’s lives, so you don’t have to worry about me trying to force you to do anything or asking for your money. I don’t want your money, because like you said, I can see it now. All of the fans that follow you like you’re some kind of fucking god will call me a gold digger and a bunch of other awful shit, and to be quite honest, I don’t need that and neither do my kids. So once you walk out of that door, I’m done. I’m done with you and everything that has to do with you. The only part of you that I love now are the children that you gave me, the children that you don’t want.” 

Your entire body was trembling, and the tears flowed freely down your cheeks. They weren’t tears of sadness though, they were tears of anger, unable to hold back the burst of emotions that coursed through you, and unable to channel them properly. “Promise?” He snidely cracked back at you, and it was the final nail in the coffin. He wasn’t who you thought he was at all, he was nothing like the way his fans portrayed him. It was all an act, and the character that he had been playing as was gone now, revealing the true Felix that you had mistakenly fallen in love with. 

“Promise.” You retorted flatly, finally pushing yourself up off the couch and walking to the door, and with your back turned to him, you hadn’t caught the way he his jaw had dropped when finally seeing you fully, you hadn’t caught the way his fingers twitched to reach out to grab you, the way his eyes blinked a few times to snap him back to reality just a little too late. “I’ll pack your stuff up and leave it on the porch, I’ll text you when I’m all done, and then I’ll block your number and delete it so you don’t have to worry about me bothering you. You can move on with your life and your career.” You said as you grabbed the suitcases and wheeled them to the center of the entryway. “You already have some of your stuff to leave with.” You pulled open the front door, moving over to the side to give him room to walk out. “Bye.” 

The damage was already done, and it’s not like you’d believe him or even be willing to listen if he tried to go back on his words right now, so he kept up with the act, sneering at you as he grabbed his luggage and wheeled it out the front door, stepping out onto the porch. Maybe if he turned around one last time and you saw the look of regret in his eyes you’d let him talk, but the door was already being slammed shut, and the locks clicked, and he knew that you were probably already breaking down on the couch, a complete mess because of what he had said. 

There was nothing he could do now except trudge over to the side of the road, his phone gripped tightly in his shaking hands as he texted his leader, asking to be picked up. Twins… he wasn’t ready for it, he wasn’t in the right place in his life to take on that kind of responsibility… But he hadn’t even given himself a chance to try. He immediately attacked you, and maybe it was the jet lag or the stress from just coming back home and simply wanting to enjoy one evening without having something else to worry about… But none of those things were truly an excuse for what he had said or the way he behaved because you were surely more stressed than him, and now that stress had quadrupled all because of him. 

Twins… Two children, his own children, little drops of sun that were part him, and part you. You, the only person who he ever loved before, the only person he could ever see himself loving… And he ruined it. A family, one that he’d never get to spend time with, that he had so easily given up on as if it wasn’t important at all. Sons… Daughters… Maybe one of each… He’d never get to meet them though. He’d never get to experience that feeling of holding his children for the first time or watching them take their first steps. He’d never feel that excitement as he bore witness to each and every milestone. He gave all of that up the second he started his rant, the second those thoughts weasel’d their way into his mind and were actually spoken. Maybe he’d watch from a distance, living the life that he turned his back on through pictures or videos that you hopefully might post online. It wouldn’t be the same… But it was all he would have, all he would ever have. 

Permanent TL : @whatudowhennooneseesyou @duchesskaren @mytherapisttoldmenotto @lovesunshinefelix @moon0fthenight @kurolils @maruskz @hello-2-u-from-me

@mrswolfiechan @bunnychangbin @his-angell @if-spearb @yomomma104 @lanatheawesome @facelesswrittes @grannyindehouse @cutie-wooyo @felixmainacc

[licorice-tea]

Don’t Fall In Love With Me (Yet)

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: strawhat!reader, gender neutral reader, feelings and fluff (my faves🤞🏽), so much tension, no resolution of that tension… yet😏, lowkey “i hate everyone but you” trope, very brief mention of some canon typical violence, but no actual violence <3

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: lalalalala i love law😇 i actually wrote about twice as much as what’s here to begin with, but i felt like it was too long for one post, so i might upload it as a second part later if anyone wants that! as always ty for the love, and i hope you enjoy! (did i write this instead of finishing part 3 of my Zoro mini series? perchance. (that will be up soon though!))

Part 2

It’s a day like any other on board the Thousand Sunny- calm waters, music, occasional shouting, and just one abnormality. Law, captain of the Heart Pirates, is a guest on board the Strawhat Crew’s ship in the aftermath of Dressrosa. And despite their hospitality, he finds practically everything about life on board their ship to be draining…

Every potentially quiet moment is interrupted by the crew’s shenanigans.

For starters: the cook and swordsman argue over every little thing, and most of their arguments escalate into fights. The navigator is actually a petty thief or a con-artist at best, and her double, the sniper, takes it upon himself to cause dangerous explosions at least once a day. The musician is an incredibly loud pervert, though the shipwright is somehow even louder and more dramatic. The archeologist is alright- she’s quiet, but Law finds her constant observation more eery than comforting. And the captain is still somehow convinced that his doctor could be used as a source of “emergency food.” Then there’s you; the one who brings whatever you’re working on at the time up to the deck so you can work in the sunlight, wears your weapons like they’re accessories, who only takes breaks from working to visit with your nakama, and always offers a charming smile when you catch Law staring… which happens multiple times in the course of the day.

Law is often irritated, rigid, and cold- so different from your own optimistic and nonchalant demeanor. At breakfast, he doesn’t talk much. Just eats his meal and thanks Sanji before excusing himself to go pour over anatomy books from the ship’s library. He does so for hours, not once joining the Strawhat Crew on deck or even taking time to explore the ship on his own. Nami frequents the library, as well, but she’s taken to drawing maps in her room or on deck since their guests arrival. When night begins to settle overhead, he may return to the kitchen for a cup of coffee, before going right back to his work.

At first, one might have been inclined to think Law didn’t like y/n at all. They can often see his gaze trained on them form from the corner of their eye, but chooses to ignore it sometimes and address it with a smile others. He almost never speaks to them if possible, only offering a nod or a mumbled response to whatever they says. But, he goes out of his way to sit by them at mealtimes and to find himself in the same narrow hallways as them, so that their arms brush. Those are the moments he obsesses over in his mind while he dozes off from his textbooks- the feel of their skin against his, and their kind acknowledgements- always void of harsh judgment.

It’s not just the lack of cruelty in essentially eveything they do, to Law; it’s the presence of love. Love for their nakama, their work, people and places they barely know, even him. He doesn’t recall ever having met someone so full of love that goes beyond superficial kindness- because they can be sarcastic and moody at times- besides perhaps Corazon.

And to y/n, there’s just something about Law that peaks their interests. Maybe it’s the feeling of having someone new around, or something even more indescribable and foreign to the pirate.

Zoro is asleep in the men’s cabin tonight, so y/n is keeping watch. It’s the usual arrangement for the 2 night owls of the crew- when Zoro has truly exhausted his body, he sleeps below deck with the others, and y/n has no trouble staying up through the night.

They turn on some quiet music on their speaker, a must have for any music lover. For a while, they just watch the sea and sky. Nights at sea are like a blackout. But, there is no need for light with strong eyesight and the even stronger moon and starlight.

So it’s no surprise that they see, just out of the corner of their peripheral vision, the top of a white and black speckled hat bobbing up and down as it moves toward the kitchen. Y/n’s eyes widen ever so slightly and their breath catches in their throat. The guest makes them feel silly, in a way, for not being able to discern their own feelings toward him, nor his toward them. They get so caught up in their thoughts about him that eventually they give up. Y/n shakes their head, mentally chastising themself for even being embarrassed or flustered in the first place. And with that confidence boost, they decide to go talk to him.

Next thing they know, y/n is standing before the kitchen door with no plan in mind for what they’re going to say to their crew’s ally. They open the door, but he doesn’t look up from the coffee brewing on the stove.

Y/n clears their throat to announce their presence, and Law whips his head around to see who it is. They offer a friendly smile and a little wave.

“Hi.” They speak softly, as if afraid to break the peace of the night.

A beat passes with no response from Law. Internally, he wishes they hadn’t walked in on him at this moment. The light from the overhead lamp catches in their eyes, and he feels entirely too seen. Not in the way he feels seen by someone like Robin, though, whose constant observation makes him feel uncomfortable; like one wrong move and he’ll have hell to pay for. No; y/n sees him and he’s scared that he might start spewing nonsense to avoid revealing his feelings. And suddenly his cheeks are on fire, and everything is quiet, and all he can focus on is the stars in their eyes that he tries so desperately to look away from.

They tilt their head, likely in concern, and he pulls himself out of his thoughts to mumble, “Hey.”

“Cant sleep?” y/n questions, their starry eyes (as described by Law) flickering over the coffee pot on the counter and back to him.

Law shrugs, then pulls his hat lower over his eyes to hopefully hide his warm face. “I wasn’t trying to sleep.”

“Hm…” they hum in response, “Want to keep watch with me then? If you aren’t busy.”

He thinks they’re just being friendly, like always. When they first met, Law was confused. It made no sense for someone so mild mannered to have a bounty of well over 500 million (now almost double that amount in the time that’s passed), though he didn’t doubt that looks could be deceiving. But even in the midst of battle, of which the two had been in several together, they refused to take kill shots or anything of the sort. So he was still unsure of how they had earned such an impressive reward for their capture. Still, they clearly had a high regard for life, and he had come to learn that they truly were just that kind hearted, not to mention witty and generous. And judging by the “Sora: Warrior of The Sea” sticker he’d noticed on small a journal they carried, which was one amongst many; a bit of a nerd, too. All of these things and more had made Law secretly impartial to them. Or at least, those were the reasons he has listed in his mind to make sense of these feelings.

So he nodded, much to their surprise, and mumbled again “Sure.”

The curve of their smile opens up into a grin, and y/n leaves while fully expecting Law to follow (whenever his coffee was ready.) Which, he does.

[thelastofhyde]

prologue. rome.

pairing. tourguide!joel miller x fem!reader. series synopsis. on the brink of undergoing a life-altering change, you runaway from your problems in the only way any sane person can: embarking on a mediterranean cruise. there you meet joel miller, a grumpy, private tour-guide, who just so happens to be tasked with touring you through each stop on your cruise. from greek goddesses to roman ruins, you have ten days to avoid your fate. maybe a frowning, southern, sex-on-legs of a man is just what the doctor ordered. chapter summary. like all epic love stories, this one starts with a meet-(un)cute. series warnings. no use of y/n, set in 2015, cruise!au, rom-com, enemies-ish to lovers, sunshine!reader, tour-guide!joel, age gap, depictions/discussions of grief, angst, fluff, a whole load of smut, a lot of cheesy stereotypical romance tropes bc i just wanna see joel not suffer ( too much ) <3 chapter warnings. i’m pretty sure there’s no warnings this chapter. word count. 845. hyde’s input. & so it begins! my goal is to try post a chapter every other friday, but it may be weekly if i write + edit on time. likes and reblogs are appreciated <3 next chapter - series masterlist

Under the buzz of a dying light, you assess the damage.

Tousled hair, smudged mascara, bags under your eyes. Chapped lips, wrinkled clothing, a missing earring. Nail indentations, dry hands, a bruise on your knee.

You'd call yourself a mess, had you not been travelling at full-speed in the air, trapped inside an overgrown Pringles can that grew wings, for the past who-knows-how-many hours.

With a snoring seat-neighbour, a kid kicking at the back of you and the embarrassing sting of tears in your eyes, you'd not known peace until the plane had landed on solid ground. And, even then, the nightmare had picked right back up where it had left off, shapeshifting into a mile long customs queue and the overwhelming dread of watching the conveyor belt spin round and round with not a single sign of your suitcase.

It took a whole hour and speaking to an airport staff member later for them to find your case, right down the other end of the arrivals hall, sitting amongst luggage from a destination you'd certainly not arrived from.

But none of that matters, not now. At least you tell yourself that as you splash some cold water on your face. Looking back in the mirror, you try out a smile. It doesn't look genuine, but it's been a little harder to do recently, and so you give yourself credit for managing to at least have it meet your eyes.

There's a series of disgruntled, irritated faces that greet you as you exit the bathroom. You walk past them, head down, trying to count the beat in your footsteps and feel the roll of your suitcase's wheels.

Finding the signs that point to the arrival gate, you keep a low profile, as if anyone would know you here. Why would anybody know you here? Still, the need to stay hidden, out of sight, it intensifies, even as you take in the welcoming sign above sliding doors.

Buongiorno, benvenuto in Italia!

An overwhelming wave of loneliness hits you as you take your first step past the sliding doors, the usual hustle and bustle of an arrival's lounge greeting you. Couples embracing in reunion, families excitedly catching up on all that they've missed, strangers meeting for the first time, men in suits holding up signs with names and-

A different kind of wave hits you, physically, and suddenly you're on all fours, the sound of your knees smacking harshly into the marble floor taunting you with yet another bruise that'll be making a cameo in every picture you’ll take.

The world continues to pass you by, even as you juggle turmoil and pain. It’s a feat you’re trying to grow used to, but, for now, all you can manage is to not feel your stomach knot. You straighten your back, hands off the floor and your weight resting back against your knees. Pull a deep breath in, ignoring the tremble in your lower lip. In a moment of pure desperation, you wonder what more awaits you on this holiday from hell.

An awful flight, a lost-luggage scare, several bruises and now a public humiliation. What’s next?

You’re plucked up from where you sit, strong hands taking a gentle grip of your forearm. A simple tug and you obey the stranger’s signal, shifting to stand up straight. Turning on your heel to face your rescuer, you’re met with the back of a head, dark locks adorning it as the man reaches back down to grasp at your suitcase’s handle.

The man’s face is revealed slowly, undeliberately, as he rises to level once more, steadying your case back onto its wheels. Handsome, you notice the etching of laugh lines around his eyes and the peppering of patchy, yet fitting, facial hair along his jaw. A pair of headphones, big and chunky and sporting a wire, rest on the back of his neck and the strap of a backpack rests over his right shoulder.

You notice you’re staring a little too late, when there’s already a frown line splitting the skin of his forehead. Clear your throat, take back control of your suitcase and your senses.

Raised with manners, you rather clumsily thrust out your hand for the man to shake. “Thank you for your help, I appreciate it. So much. I'm-"

"You're in the way."

There’s no time to respond, not properly, as the man side-steps you with a grunt, his shoulder catching yours as he passes by. He doesn’t stop to apologise, simply readjusting the sliding strap of his bag and continuing his stride out into the sea of awaiting people.

Involuntarily, frozen where you stand, your eyes follow him as he comes to a stop in front of a uniformed man, a printed sign in his hand.

Signore Miller.

As you scan the crowd for your own name, spotting a casually dressed older gentleman carrying it upon scribbled cardboard, you repeat that name, over and over.

Miller, Miller, Miller.

Whoever the rude man may be, you pray for all those who cross his path on his trip.

[writersblockedx]

Loose Ends: Chapter One

Chapter One: Insects

Based off - Episode One Pairing - Joel Miller x Fem!Reader Warnings - General violence, language, a good bit of angst  Words - 6.3k

A/n - Hello! Welcome to my the last of us rewrite! I wasn’t sure whether or not I was going to write this as I’ve never tried to start a rewrite without having watched the full series first. I’m hopping everything I’ve planned for the reader’s character works out and I hope you enjoy it!

⇨ Next Chapter Read on: AO3 Wattpad

Masterlist

There was a hasher side to having the job Y/n did. But, the bad things were lucky they didn't weigh out the good. She had a job that not many could replace. At least, not yet. She may not occupy the great muscle that soldiers did but she held knowledge above a college level. Without, any sort of school system left standing, Y/n was a rarity many had fought over. Though, she found herself settled in Boston for the last ten years.

A very long, a very complicated ten years.

She wiped the used needle, putting it back in its box of the remaining free that they had no choice but to keep using over and over. The woman turned, halted by the figure standing in the doorway between the hall and her makeshift office. She shifted and her expression turned sour as a huff fell from her lips, "I thought you were avoiding me."

Joel was leant against the door frame, hands in his pockets ever so lazily. "Apparently Doctor Davis is unavailable." He informed as his gaze guided along her. "And I'm in need of pharmaceutical resources."

She shook her head, "Doctor Davis was demoted because he failed inventory. Lost some painkillers and couldn't explain it. We came to the conclusion a smuggler was behind it." The man tensed. "Whatever it is you want Joel, I'm not helping you."

"What about a check-up?" He pressed.

"You want a check-up?" She gestured to a group behind him, analysing some lab work, yet they lacked the lab coat that hung around Y/n's shoulders. "Get one of the junior doctors to do it for you."

Joel glanced back at them and scoffed, "You mean your little science projects?" He raised a brow which seemed to taunt the woman.

She walked from the middle of the room towards the door. And even with him towering over her, her stern expression didn't dare to break. "I'm not giving you anything, I'm not helping you. So whatever has brought you here after a year, I can't do-"

"It's Tommy." He interjected, his gaze falling down to meet hers. Her lips shut. "Its been three weeks. He hasn't responded."

Y/n thought on it for a moment but the second her eyes met with Joel's, he knew it was a lost cause. "That's got nothing to do with me anymore, just like you don't."

He peered behind him, catching sight of the working group once again. He looked back and leaned in slightly, his words only a hushed whisper, "I know you don't owe me anything, but-"

"You're right." She cut him off like her tongue were a knife. "I don't owe you anything. I'm sure you or Tess will figure something out." It took Y/n a lot, but she looked him in the eye and she swore all she could see was a flicker of a memory she had forced herself to forget. "Now, if you don't mind, I've got somewhere to be."

But Joel nodded and took the rejection in his stride as he turned his back to her and exited the building.

Y/n wasn't lying. She had somewhere to be. Somewhere she needed to be desperately in fact. She left the building with a bag of her usual medical supplies. This was her third time sneaking around in the last week; she was surprised no guards had started to catch on. Then again, as Joel had once put, the white lab coat she wore seemed to open every door and drew any attention away from her.

She took the same route. Though, as organised with Marlene, never the same time. Y/n's lab coat couldn't quite hide her from everything, she still had to be smart. She slipped into the Fireflies building, unnoticed and, seemingly, safely.

There were a few people dotted around, all of them tightly focused on their individual tasks.Y/n didn't have to walk far until coming across Marlene, likely planning within the space of her own head. "Hey," The woman greeted, wandering around the table where maps were laid out. She jolted a little, only settling when her gazed settled on Y/n. "Jesus, what's up with you?"

Marlene huffed as she looked back to the papers scattered beneath her, "Got some new resources coming in before we move." She informed.

"Since when did that put you on edge?" The other girl questioned.

She finally pulled her gaze from her maps, finding her palms settling on her hips. "Since it's a new smuggler whose delivering."

Y/n nodded her head in realisation, "Ah, right." She uttered before her eyes pulled to a door situated across from them. "You spoke to her yet?"

Marlene looked to the door too, "Yeah. Once we get this stuff, we're gone." Y/n met the gaze of her friend and found a glint of regret surged through her pupils. "You can still come if you want."

She flashed an apathetic smile, "You know I can't." As much as she may have wished she could. "I'm the only doctor they've got left in this zone."

"What happened to Davis?"

Y/n could have laughed. In fact, she almost did, "Helping Joel smuggle painkillers." By the expression Marlene wore, she wasn't all that surprised by such. "I'd go with you if I could, but you can get her out of here and you keep her safe better than anyone else ever could."

Marlene shifted in her stance, her expression softening, "You can still come with us. We'll find somewhere with better medical supplies, somewhere that's safe-"

"Marlene," The girl cut in. "Nowhere is 100% safe, I think here is the best place for me." She went on, taking a cautious step forward as her voice lowered, suddenly aware of the ears which could be listening in. "There will be other scientists, other medics, whatever you need will be out there to maybe do something." She assured.

"We'll miss you." She sent a smile which was easily returned.

"I know." Y/n was already walking out the room as she continued, "How long have I got to do vitals?"

"Dealer should be here in five."

Y/n nodded in understanding and fully turned, heading for the room Ellie was still stuck in. As she had been doing for two weeks now, the girl entered the room with her bag of medical supplies and a smile she hoped would comfort the kidnapped girl. Ellie wore the same clothes she came in. Yet, now, she was freed from the chain which once kept her here, along with having her bag returned to her.

At the sound of the door opening, Ellie stood, relaxing only a little when Y/n walked further into the room. "You're still here." She observed with knitted brows as if she hadn't expected it.

Y/n unzipped her bag, pulling out the damaged and remaining supplies she had. "What? You miss me?"

"That lady-" She gestured her head towards the doorway.

"Marlene?" Y/n questioned.

To which, Ellie nodded and continued, "Said I was leaving. I wasn't expecting the FEDRA doctor to come with me."

"I'm not coming with you." She broke to the younger girl.

Something of which seemed to insight panic, "You're not?"

Still, with that comforting smile which wasn't doing a brilliant job, Y/n shook her head. "I can't." She started walking further into the room. "Come on, sit, I still need to check your vitals before you go."

Ellie wasn't certain but she took to the floor as Y/n did. The woman reached for the blood pressure machine and as she always did, she turned to find Ellie had already rolled up her sleeve. "What will you do now then?" Inquired the girl.

Y/n didn't look away as she strapped the machine around her arm, turning it on as it started to squeeze against her skin. "Nothing different." She answered mindlessly.

She waited until the machine relaxed around her arm before continuing, "You know they tell stories about you at military school."

The older woman barely looked up from jotting down the results as she answered, "And do you bother to believe them?"

Ellie shrugged, "Some are a bit far-fetched." She thought aloud with a hum as Y/n reached for a thermometer. And, as had become routine, Ellie looked to the side as Y/n scanned her ear. "Mainly the ones that call you a murderer."

She chuckled, "And what are they becoming in military school I wonder." The thermometer beeped and Y/n pulled it back. Once again, noting down the results. "I wish I could come with you, you know." She admitted.

"Then why don't you?"

Y/n thought on it for a moment. She thought about avoiding the answer all together but that curious glint in Ellie's eyes seemed to insight her. "Because them stories you've heard, they travel further then your little military school."

The younger girl was about to give a reply when the mutterings from outside the door got louder. At first, Y/n wasn't going to pay much attention to them. That was until she caught the words woven between the sudden sharp tones. "This wasn't what we agreed." Yelled Marlene.

A sickening scoff was sounded, "Oh, was it not?" Taunted another voice. Y/n wasn't certain, but she made an assumption it was the new smuggler. Obviously not one to be trusted by the sound of things.

She glanced back to Ellie who was listening just as intently as she were. "Stay here." Y/n instructed.

Ellie watched with wide eyes as the woman slowly crept closer to the doorway, keeping low to the floor as to not give away her location. Well, more importantly, as to not give away Ellie's location. She peered her head around the doorway, lucky to find most backs faced her. The smuggler and his fellow guard dogs were talking to Marlene and a few other loitering fireflies.

"Look, I don't know what your plan is here, but either you're going to get what we actually agreed on or we're gonna have a problem." Said Marlene.

She scanned the various smugglers. Their ripped and ragged clothes. And then the pistols which hung from their belts, accompanied with shivs and other blades. A part of her worried for the woman who was facing the group, but Y/n knew Marlene could handle herself. And while she was certain Ellie could too, she took the decision to protect her.

With a sharp inhale, Y/n delicately pressed the door shut, holding her back against it. She met Ellie who had still yet to move from her spot. "You got a gun in that backpack of yours?" She questioned, quietly, gesturing to the bag which was near the girl.

The girl didn't speak. Instead, she rummaged through the bag and pulled out a very small pocket knife. Not a gun, not a dagger, just a small, blunt pocket knife. Y/n could have sworn they were dead there and then.

"I don't think that's how this is gonna work!" Snapped the male voice, immediately followed by the sound of gunshots.

Y/n stiffed and her gaze jumped to Ellie. She gestured her head for the girl to come next to her. She followed, scurrying across the wooden floor as her back leant aginst the door like Y/n's did.  The sounds of bodies getting hit and thrown jumbled with groans of pain. Y/n reached out her palm as Ellie passed the only thing they had to protect themselves. She had no plan on moving from this room. She would wait it out. The only problem which plagued her was if they dared to look in the locked room.

Alas, long moments passed of holding their breath before the gun shots dwindled out. The sound of movement was limited to the sound of body's dropping and suddenly, the only noise from outside their room was the mumbles and groans that Y/n struggled to make out. "Is it over?" Whispered Ellie from her side.

The younger girl was looking up at her for assurance that she was unable to give. So Y/n kept her gaze to the floor as she focused on every sound she could catch. "I don't know yet."

The groaning continued and Y/n thought about escaping the comfort of the room which was keeping them hidden. Then came the footsteps. More than just a pair and that was enough to keep her body and Ellie's behind the door. "Shit," She heard Marlene curse. Another voice replied in a soothing tone which told her the girl was safe.

"It's Marlene." Ellie noted, worry glazing her pupils as the two looked to one another.

"I know." Y/n huffed.

"Well, aren't we going to do something?"

The expression written over the woman's face gave Ellie her answer. She wasn't going to do something. Not yet, anyway. So in an act of desperation, Ellie snatched her pocket knife back and busted the door open.

"Ellie, don't!" Her voice screeched. Y/n scurried to her feet, attempting to grasp the young girl, but she had slipped from her fingers.

Though by the time the words had slipped from her tongue, Ellie had been thrown to the floor again and Y/n found herself faced with the barrel of a gun. A gun that was held by Joel Miller. "Y/n?" Questioned Joel as if he didn't quite believe it.

And, in a similar fashion, she did the same, "Joel?" Their eyes both snapped to the end of the hallway where Marlene was stumbling with a gunshot wound, held in a steady position by Kim.

Then Y/n's eyes jumped to Ellie and her expression simply read: Told you so. Y/n looked passed the gun that was still held at her head, "Ellie? You okay?" She asked, glancing between the weapon and the teenage girl.

She hummed something along the lines of a, "Yeah." before reaching out for the pocket knife, almost bruising her fingers as Joel stepped on it, keeping it from use.

"Ellie." Called Marlene. At first, the girl seemed too captivated with sending a death glare to Joel that she hadn't dared to turn away. "Ellie." Marlene repeated, more stern and forceful than before, prompting her to finally look away.

Her eyes found Marlene's face first, then they jolted to the blood which was drowning her t-shirt. "Oh, shit!"

Marlene hovered a hand in front of her as if silently saying it was okay. "No, it's okay. I'll be alright." She lowered her gun. "You can't be stupid like this."

"Trust me," Y/n spoke up. "I'd tried to stop her." The two were like scolding parents with a disruptive child.

Y/n only caught a glance, but a glance was enough to process the puzzled, tender emotion that was painted over Joel's face. Even if he had yet to move that gun from her. "So this is who Robert screwed us over with?" Came another voice as they rounded the corner: Tess. "The Che Guevara of Boston and the FEDRA medic turned firefly?" She scoffed as if it were laughable. "War must be going pretty shitty for you to buying from scumbags like him."

Y/n found her eyes rolled but her lips stayed tied shut while Marlene replied, "Yeah, it kinda has been. Merch was bad and he didn't take fuck off for an answer." Which would explain the voices her and Ellie had overheard before the gunshot started.

"What about you?" Y/n's gaze jumped between Joel and Tess. "The hell are you doing here?"

Tess snapped back before Joel could, "None of your business."

"Give me my knife." Demanded the voice from below.

The voice of which had been ignored. "What do you need a car battery for?" Joel interrogated.

Ellie moved when she shouldn't have. Maybe the fact she was ignored had prompted her on as she reached for her knife anyway. Thus, leading to the gun once pointed at Y/n to point at her. Marlene and Kim both raised their weapons. And with nothing else, Y/n swiftly pulled the shiv from Joel's belt, swinging it around his throat.

It hovered over his skin just as the gun hovered over Ellie's forehead. "Don't point it at her." She stated in a slow, firm tone which had seemed to send a shiver down Joel's spine.

He didn't dare move. So he gave a harsh whisper in reply, "Then where the fuck am I meant to point it?"

"I don't care." She said. "Just not at her."

So, with that, Joel's hand moved. Rather than point to Marlene or Kim, Y/n felt it prod below her ribs. Sharp and prominent that it made the thought of breathing fearsome. "Why do you need the car battery?" He asked again.

This time, Y/n felt obliged to answer, "For a much better reason than you do." He pushed the gun further into her skin and she tensed.

Luckily, Marlene swept in to continue, "Tommy's just one man." She felt the gun relax slightly at the mention of Joel's brother. "It's our business to know things."

"To know things." The man reiterated. "You're the cause of it. You turned my own brother against me."

"Not the only reason." Y/n mumbled, expecting that to cause Joel to push the gun against her skin again. Alas, it seemed to just keep his lips sewn shut.

Within the silence, Kim brought everyone back to current matters at hand, "That was a lot of gun fire. FEDRA's gonna be on their way." As if they didn't already have enough to deal with.

"I know." Marlene nodded.

Y/n looked over Joel's shoulder, "What do we do now?" It was obvious Marlene was stuck in a thought. A thought of which she didn't seemed to like. "Marlene?"

She sighed but let on such thought, "We were going to move Ellie out of the zone tonight. But we won't make it anywhere like this. Not for a while." She explained. "So now I'm thinking, you're gonna do it."

The shock from both parties encouraged them to pull away as the shiv left Joel's neck and the gun left Y/n's ribs. Spontaneously, together, there came a chorus of negative responses:

"What? Marlene-"

"I'm not going with them!"

"The hell we are."

Glances were shared between the three of them; all of which opposed this very stupid idea. "Who is she?" Tess inquired, considering this deal.

"To you, she's cargo." Suppose that was how they were sure to look at this.

"We don't smuggle people." Said Joel.

Kim looked over at Marlene and offered, "I can do it."

That was instantly shut down by the wounded woman, "Kim you don't have a fucking ear on your fucking head." And that plan went out the window just as quickly as it had come in. "There's a team of fireflies waiting for her at the old State House. We were going with a whole squadron for that very reason. But now I don't have a squadron or a truck. FEDRA's five minutes away. What I do have is you."

Maybe it was practical, but it was still a stupid idea with how delicate they must handle this situation. "Why can't Y/n take me?" Ellie queried.

Tess had scoffed at the idea of that as she stared at the doctor, "Because she's got no idea how to survive without these walls which keep her precious prestige."

She could only reply to Tess with a deadly glare that did nothing. But as she looked back to Joel, she spoke up, "I know what you're both capable off." A glint passed through the man's eyes that she couldn't pinpoint. "For better or for worse."

"What are they capable of?" Came that vulnerable voice from below.

Y/n's gaze flickered to Ellie before back to Joel, "We can give you what you need to find Tommy, not just the battery."

Marlene backed that up, "Just get her to that house safely."

It seemed they were on the brink of a deal when Ellie had to throw in a curve ball. "I'm not going without one of you." She was peering over at Marlene and Y/n, that worry still lingering in her pupils which sparked guilt.

"I'll just slow you down." Marlene pointed out, still having that gushing red pool at the fabric of her shirt.

So then eyes landed to Y/n. The automatic answer of 'I can't' didn't seem to follow. Not when she was facing Ellie's desperation to feel secure with someone she could trust. And it took her a long moment before she sucked it up, "Okay, I'll go with you." She decided.

"Y/n-" Marlene was about to remind her of what she already knew, about what could be awaiting her out there if she wasn't careful.

"It's okay." Y/n assured.

"Well this will be a first." Critiqued Tess. Again, something that had earnt her a glare from Y/n as she was left with nothing else to respond with.

The couple soon met eyes, Joel nodding his head before they trailed over to have a silent conversation. Y/n took that as her chance to move over to Ellie, handing the knife back over to her. "Talk it through but please remember I'm bleeding out over here!" Yelled Marlene.

That seemed enough to draw their ever so important conversation to a close. "Alright, here's the deal." Tess started as she spun on her heels to face the group. "The three of us will get her to your crew at the state house but before we hand her over, they give us everything that we want. If not, we kill her. There and then." As in true Tess fashion.

And, almost too quickly, "Deal." Agreed Marlene.

"Really?" Ellie uttered. "That fast?"

"You are all that matters." Marlene said. "My team will not jeopardise that."

Y/n helped the girl back up to her feet, "Come on, lets get your stuff." She gave one more glance to Joel and Tess before wandering back into the room.

Ellie grabbed her backpack and Y/n stuffed her medical supplies back into her bag. By the time they exited the room, Marlene was by the doorway, offering a pistol to Y/n. "Just in case." She uttered.

She glanced between the weapon and the woman who had grown to become her friend. "Do I get one?" Ellie beamed.

In synch, they both snapped back, "No." Before Y/n took the offer, shoving it in the waistband of her jeans.

"You stay safe out there." Was the last thing Marlene said to her before her and Ellie were trailing behind the smugglers. Joel took one last stare and Y/n overheard Marlene as she practically threatened the man, "Don't fuck this up."

There came no reply from Joel. Instead, he must have nodded his head and continued on with the rest of them. They tread through the pouring rain. Pace in their step as they walked against the curfew. Ellie was smart. Any whiff of a solider and she had her face hidden. Right up until they entered an apartment complex.

Tess led the way, stopping at what Y/n assumed to be their apartment, unlocking it. She slipped in first and held the door open. Ellie wandered in first, her curious eyes translating between this new surrounding. And Y/n followed her. Which was when Tess moved. "Give us a minute." She stepped back through the doorway, and before either of them could realise what was happening, the door was slammed right in their faces.

"What the fuck!" Exclaimed the young girl, while Y/n found it to be expected. Tess had never particularly warmed to her.

Ellie huffed as her back hit the wall. Y/n took further steps into this apartment that wasn't her own, but seemed to have speckles of her memory. Most memories which had Joel attached to them. The blanket they had once shared, the old board games she had been adamant they kept, the books which words were rich, but their pages were lacking in such as they started to tear. As Y/n kept walking, her eyes fell to the paper insect that hung by the window.

The cutout butterfly glistened against the street lights, it's colours reflecting into the room. It was a haunting memory of someone Y/n was still certain came as a comfort to Joel. "Do you trust them?" Ellie questioned, finally moving from the wall she had once been leaning against.

Y/n peered away from the butterfly, "I trust Joel's need to find his brother." Their voices still lingered outside. When the girl looked to Ellie, she was sat in a deadpanned expression, urging for more information. To which, Y/n obliged. "For now, I trust them. I'll let you know if it changes."

Ellie started snooping herself. Though, not for what parts of her might still linger in this room, but for what she could use as leverage. Something better than a blunt pocket knife, she hoped. "How do you know 'em?" She wondered as her fingertips tranced a bookshelf by the window.

"Old friends." Y/n uttered and Ellie hummed in response as if she didn't quite believe her but didn't bother to pester further into the topic.

"Tess!" Yelled Joel's voice from the other side of the wall. Y/n turned, facing the door which was still closed on them. Then she looked to Ellie who was flicking through a music book. "Tess!" He repeated.

Soon after, he entered the room, clearly not in any better of a mood. He threw his bag to the side and headed for the couch without muttering a woad. "So?" Ellie spoke up. "Who's Bill and Frank?"

His eyes widened slightly before meeting Y/n who had seated herself in the armchair by the window. "Didn't I tell you she's good at eavesdropping?" The woman raised a brow.

Ellie continued on: "The radios a smuggling code, right?"

Again, Joel looked to Y/n for an answer. "Or that's she catches on quickly?"

"60s song they don't have anything new, 70s they've got new stuff." She went on, reading from a note tucked into the thick book. Joel stood from the coach. "What's 80s?"

He snatched it from her hold and threw it to the battered coffee table which was somehow still standing. Then he returned back to the coach, getting comfy against the fabric once again. Y/n was just about to turn her head to the window, when Ellie piped up again. "What are you doing?" She was standing over Joel.

"Killing time." He said without taking a peak back at her.

"Well what am I suppose to do?" She snapped.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Ellie spun, facing Y/n who didn't have any excuse for Joel's unwelcoming ways. She took the book back, dragging a chair over to where Y/n was sitting. "Your watch is broken." She pointed out as if Joel were unaware.

That time, his eyes pulled open, meeting Y/n. They both thought the same thing but neither of them made a move to voice it. Ellie huffed harshly as she sat down, "Why were you friends with him again?" She asked.

Y/n stole one more peak at the man who had shut his eyes again, though was still obviously listening, and she chose it best not to answer. Her gaze pulled to the window as she attempted to wash away the thoughts of the day. She wasn't sure yet if she had just made the worse decision she could, but leaving this zone was the biggest risk she could possibly take. Only time would tell if that risk was going to come back to haunt her.

Hours must have passed. The sun set and curfew was soon enforced. Ellie had shut the song book and joined Y/n in staring out the window like it was the most entertaining thing in the world. Somewhere along the lines, Joel stared to stir back awake. Ellie noticed first, "You mumble in your sleep."

Y/n turned her head, confused as she expected Ellie to be talking to her, only to find her eyes centred on Joel. The man pulled himself up and the young girl continued on with her words, "I've never been on the other side of the wall. Look how dark it is. You guys go out there a lot?"

"I guess." Joel answered, still in between the state of dreams and consciousness.

"When was the last time?"

His eyes flickered to Y/n before he said anything, "A year. Maybe." He shook his head, seeping into a different topic, "What's it matter?"

Ellie shrugged, "You know where to go. So were gonna be okay?"

Silence passed and neither of the adults in the room knew how to answer that question. It seemed a matter of false hope or reality. "Yeah," Y/n finally uttered. "We'll be fine." Or so she prayed they would be.

"What's the deal with you anyway?" Queried Joel. "You some kind of bigwigs daughters or something?"

Y/n replied before giving Ellie the chance, "Since when did you ask questions?" She snapped like the words meant something.

Joel shifted at that, standing from the couch in an act of opposition. "Sorry," He spat back. "I won't do it again." Y/n watched as he turned his back to her, wandering over to the kitchen tables. Suddenly, she was wishing she had given the chance for Ellie to speak first, a guiltly feeling burdened her gut that she knew wasn't going away any time soon.

"Oh, the radio came on while you were sleeping." Uttered the younger girl once tension had sizzled slightly.

Joel snapped back around as Y/n scolded her, knowing where this was going, "Ellie-"

But it was no use, "What?" The man rushed. "What was the song?"

"He kept saying like 'wake me up before you go-go'."

Joel looked down, "Shit." He muttered to himself.

And such had ever so easily given him away. A smile tugged at Ellie's lips as she said, "Gotcha." It was with that when Joel finally caught on too. "80s means trouble. Code broken."

"I did warn you." Y/n added.

The man was about to point his finger and scold the girl just like Y/n usually did when the door swung open again. Tess walked in and all three of them stayed silent. "The spot under Lancaster looks good." She informed before pointing to Ellie. "You got a jacket in your pack?" She nodded and then Tess glanced over to Y/n. "What about you, prestige? Got something other than that lab coat?" Her response was a silent one, the answer given to Tess by the expression which was written over her face. "Of course, you haven't."

Joel was already moving as he spoke, "I'll go get you one from the war-"

Some material hit her chest before he could finish.  The man stopped, seeing as Tess had thrown her one from her bag anyway. No one dared to say anything. Y/n slipped from her lab coat to Tess' jacket within the matter of a moment before she announced, "Let's go." And with that, the rather dysfunctional group exited the apartment, uncertain as to when they would return.

The streets were littered more than usual. Soldiers lined the roads, their guns aimed and trucks patrolling the area. Each of them stayed clear of the light, weaving and tangling through the bodies which could easily catch sight of any of them. They were lucky to get so far. Though, once they were outside of the wall, loitering on the outskirts, it may as well not have been worth it.

Tess led the way, turning a corner they didn't realise was going screw them over. "What the hell?" They all stopped at the voice they didn't recognise as one of their own. They turned, a soldier starring at each of them, all while his zipper was undone.

"Shit," Y/n mumbled, instinctively nudging closer to Ellie.

The man scurried to make himself some-what presentable before addressing the group. "Hey, hey! Don't move!" He threatened and they are raised their hands at the sight of the rifle he grasped. And then he uncovered the front of his helmet, "You got to be shitting me."

Y/n looked to Joel; of course, she should have known. "Okay let's talk this out-"

"Turn around!" Suppose he wasn't in a talking mood. "Get on your fucking knees!" He demanded when none one of them moved.

"Now, hold on-" Joel tried again.

And again, he failed. "What did I fucking tell you man? Stay the fuck home."

Y/n glancd to the man, "Glad to know you shared that information with the group." She huffed.

"Get on your knees!" He ordered again.

This time, Tess moved. "Just get on your knees." The woman said. And they followed her, dropping to the dirt and mud. "Listen you let us do this run, we'll split the cards with you."

"Oh, will you?"

She nodded, "Yeah."

But Tesss' plan hadn't worked. He laughed and gave her the sarcastic reply of, "I'm so blessed." Which was followed by, "Put your hands on your head. Eyes forward."

"Really man?" Y/n looked across the line to Tess who was being tested.

Shit. Her eyes widened, soon to meet an equally worrisome Ellie. "Yep." Said the soldier. "We're doing this by the book." The machine beeped and Y/n knew her and Joel were all that stood between Ellie's life and the soldier.

"Alright, how about three-quarters?" Tess still nagged.

"Joel?" Y/n leaned over, her voice low in hopes to not gain the soldier's attention.

He looked between her and Tess a few times before finally listening, "What?"

"Unauthorised exit." Continued the guard.

"I didn't tell you everything." Y/n spoke up to Joel, lucky the guard was too focused on the beeping machine in front of him.

Joel's brows became knitted, struggling to follow her words in such dire situation. "They'll hang you for that." Informed the soldier as he moved behind the man.

"Fine!" Said Joel, bypassing Y/n's words for a moment. "Everything from this run and half off on the pills."

The machine beeped, followed by a scoff from the soldier. "Half of?" He reiterated like it was pitiful. He moved to behind Y/n as he responded, "All off!"

Y/n slowly brought her eyes to meet the man next to her. Her pupils empty as she knew what awaited them. And in that moment of complete uncertainty, she could only say one thing. "Joel." Her words were drowning in the type of fear he had only ever heard her say once before. And that's when he realised something was truly wrong.

The machine beeped behind her head before the soldier moved on to Ellie. Y/n couldn't take another breath. Not until she heard the soldier groan and stumble. The four stood to their feet, watching as the blunt pocket knife was soon shoved into the man's thigh. "Ellie!" Y/n snapped.

And while the girl had lept for Ellie, Joel lept for the guard. The rifle was soon pointed right at him. "Woah woah, we can fix this." Said Joel in the calmest tone he could muster in that moment.

The soldier gave one order: "Move."

And Joel didn't listen to it. He jumped forward, tackling him to the ground. The rifle was thrown to one side. Once given the upper hand, Joel started punching. And punching. He didn't stop until the breath from the guard's mouth did.

He slowed. He realised. And then he rose, turning to face what was left. Y/n was holding Ellie who seemed curious at the violence which had occurred. Not scared, just curious. He looked up and down between that sight and his bloody hand. There were thoughts plaguing his mind. Enough that  it had pulled Y/n forward, as softly, she called, "Joel?"

It was more of a question, a prompt for assurance which wasn't given in return. She stepped closer to him until he was only looking at her. "Are you okay?"

He never got the chance to answer. "Joel! Joel!" Screamed a panicked voice from behind them.

Tess was showing the machine, the blinking red machine which meant infected. "I'm not sick!" Ellie claimed.

"Tess, you don't get it." Y/n went on as she jumped to protect Ellie once again.

"Look!" The younger girl yelled, rolling up her sleeve and the wound which painted her forearm. "This is three weeks old!" Tess inspected it herself. "Nobody lasts more than a day. This look a day old to you?"

Y/n went on to add, "You have to trust us Tess. Why else would the fireflies and a doctor be working together?" Tess seemed to be coming around to the idea. "Why are we all trying so hard to keep her fucking safe? Huh? We need to go, alright?"

The sirens made clear of that plan of action. Y/n took a hold of Ellie and Tess started to lead the way once again. "Joel!" Y/n yelled and the man glanced at her. "Come on, we gotta go!"

It took him a moment. He stared between the body and the girls which were already leaving before he started walking, grabbing the rifle as he did so. He joined the side of the woman he once loved as they followed the one he did love and the dead girl walking.

--

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[kyberblade]

Back To You (Din x Reader) - Part 19

A/N: Well, it’s here. You all voted, and it’s one monolithic chapter. I can’t believe we’re here. 😭 We still have so much coming up for these guys, but this first part is done and it’s been a year and I have EMOTIONS!!!! 😮‍💨🥺 Thank you all for everything. It’s been an honor to go on this journey with all of you, and I can’t wait for all the rest of the stories this little clan has coming up! We just have nostalgia in this one, throwbacks, badassery, lots of feelings and fun…. It’s a good time for all. I’ve had this final scene written since almost day one. I’m so excited it’s finally here. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it! There will still be an epilogue for this story, too, so we’re not totally done, yet. (Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.)

(This takes place right where the other one left off and goes to the end of episode 2x8/16, The Rescue.)

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Swearing. Space swearing. Grogu is a menace. Arguing? Mando’a. Show dialogue, so spoilers? (But if you’re here, you know how this works.) Lots of angst. Tears. Brief mention of injury. Reader is having a Tough Time™️ mentally, but it’s discussed and processed. The F-word but it’s in Mando’a so does it really count?

Word count: 21,386 (I said what I said.)

As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

And for @fordo-kixed-rex, you deserve so much more than a shoutout for reading all 75 million iterations of this massive chapter from start to finish, and helping me in between. You’re a real one, friend. This series would not have gotten this far without you.

And @deceiver-of-gods for helping me with the Mando’a!

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Xxx

You woke to the ship swinging wildly side to side, the sound of blaster fire filling every space of the vacant cargo hold. Din was no longer behind you, just the cold lonely steel of Boba’s ship, but there was something wadded up underneath your head as a makeshift pillow. It was soft, and smelled of your Mandalorian. Lifting your head, blinking blearily against the soft lights of the deck, you looked around, catching the fabric of Din’s cowl as it fell from behind your head and down into your lap.

“What’s going on?”

Fennec helped you to your feet, both of you stumbling slightly to the left as the ship tilted at a precarious angle, her hand holding on to you even after you were up to help both of you maintain your balance. Din’s cowl was still clutched tightly in your other hand.

“Found Doctor Pershing. He’s on an Imperial transport, we’re attempting to enter negotiations for his release.” She smiled wryly. “They aren’t going so well.”

The ship turned sharply to the right, causing you and Fennec to release one another. She gripped the bottom of a nearby seat to avoid flying across the deck, but your hands were full with the cowl, and you went sliding across the deck on your side from the steep angle. 

Cara attempted to grab you as you slid by where she too was gripping a nearby seat, grabbing on to the fabric of the cowl for a brief second before it slipped through her fingers. “It’s just as elusive as the man who wears it,” she grumbled, making you grin despite the situation.

The ship finally started to even out slightly, enough that you weren’t sliding, but your feet still propelled you forward from the dangerous angle. “The old man flies like a-”

Din caught your hand before you could go any further, pulling you into him where he was against the wall, hanging on to a cargo net.

You looked up at him, breathing heavily after stumbling for your life across the deck. “Well, he flies like you.”

Din grunted at the slight, making you grin. “Thanks, shiny.”

He only nodded once, his grip on your upper arm adjusting slightly.

“Oh!” Reaching up, you attached his cowl back around his shoulders. “And thanks for that, too.”

He nodded again. “You always complain about needing your Mandalorian pillow, so I figured it was the next best thing.”

Fennec snorted in amusement at the same time Cara moaned an, “Ew, guys!”

The ship entered a roll, all of you clinging to something and muttering curses. Once it leveled back out, you glared at the hatch that led to the cockpit. “I’ll be right back.”

“What are you doing? Mesh’la?” Din tried to reach after you, but you ignored him, climbing the ladder and stepping into the cockpit once the doors slid open.

“Hey. Flyboy.”

“I’m busy, ad’ika,” Boba said through gritted teeth, his modulator making the words sound even thinner as he pulled the trigger yet again, the shots whizzing past the transport in front of him. 

“You missed.”

If he was a clone, and they were the troopers…. Who were always dismal shots…. You grinned. 

“So is that just something in the clone/trooper genetics? Missing things by a mile?”

“It was a warning shot,” he grumbled, turning his visor your way ever so slightly before turning back to the viewport. “And troopers aren’t clones anymore. If they were, we’d all be in trouble.”

The grin pulled higher up the side of your face. “I see.” Arms crossing over your chest, you took a step closer to him. “Well warn them faster, grandpa, you’re nearly murdering your crew with these maneuvers. You didn’t give us any warning.”

“Have to strap you all down like ade,” he mumbled, chuckling softly as he shook his head, probably picturing it. (“Children.”)

Reaching forward, you flipped a switch on the console, sending a blast from his ion cannons right into the rear of the transport, making it go dead on impact.

Leaning down so your head was beside the bounty hunter’s, you smirked. “That was my warning shot.”

Grumbling something unintelligible under his breath, Boba leaned in and pressed the button for comms. “Lower your shields, disengage all transponders, prepare for boarding.”

The ship rose slowly in front of the transport, the pilot, copilot, and Doctor Pershing all watching it rise through the viewport with a gradual tilt of their heads further and further back until they were out of sight. 

Boba hovered over the hatch, pressing a few buttons on the console as he mumbled, “Easy as….” A loud thud accompanied by a violent jerk caused you to stumble through the cockpit, grabbing the back of his chair for stability.

With a huff, you turned your head to glare at the side of his visor. “You were saying?”

“I never finished the sentence. Maybe I was going to say it was something complicated.”

“Osi'kyr,” you grumbled, pushing off of his chair. “Would be easier to pet a nexu.” (Strong exclamation of dismay.)

“I’ve actually pet a nexu once,” Boba mused, flicking a switch before leaning back in his chair.

“Of course you have.” You didn’t bother turning back to face him as you left the cockpit to rejoin the others. A small smile turned up your features at the sound of his laugh behind you. 

Xxx

Sitting on the deck of Boba’s ship, your mind began to wander. Staying upbeat and engaged was easy…. For a time. Until you really let your thoughts go down the roads they wanted to, with memories of the kid playing on a loop, especially the one of him being taken from practically right out of your hands.

Within just a few steps, from the bottom of the ladder to the cockpit to the seat you were perched on in the middle of the deck, a dark cloud had taken over your mind, and you didn’t feel like fighting it right now.

You hung back while Din and Cara boarded the Imperial transport to get Doctor Pershing. The whole thing took less than two minutes, but from your seat, you could hear the entire exchange. Fennec watched you closely from her seat across the aisle from you. 

“What?” You asked her after a moment of loaded staring.

“Nothing,” she shook her head with a shrug. “You’ve just been quiet the last few days is all.”

“Compared to what? I only met you a few days ago.”

A blaster shot fired, and a body thudded to the floor, causing both you and Fennec to lean slightly to peer through the opening to see what was going on. She leaned forward while you leaned back. But a quick glance at the opening showed both of your friends still standing firmly with their weapons drawn, so you assumed it was one of the Imps turning on the other. 

Cowards.

Both of you sitting back how you had been, you turned your attention back on one another as if nothing had happened. 

Fennec went on as if simply talking about the weather. “True. But before everything with the kid went down, you seemed….”

Brows knit, one arching in question, you bobbed your head at her to continue. “Go on….”

“Better.”

You huffed, shaking your head as you looked at the ground. “I’m fine.”

“Alright.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you looked up at her again, peering up through your lashes. It felt safer than looking straight at her. “I’m on a strange ship with strangers and everything is-”

“Strange?”

Lifting your head to look at her straight on, your face fell flat. “Different.” You glared. “A member of my clan was taken. It’s not the same as missing someone, it’s more like a piece of yourself is gone.”

“I understand,” she offered softly. “I just don’t want you to slip away in the process.”

“Slip away?”

She sighed, looking down at the floor. “Sometimes….” Her gaze pulled back up to meet yours confidently, something softening once your eyes met again. “Sometimes when we let something consume us - grief, loss, a goal - it’s easy to get buried in all the things you let slide along the way.”

You felt the clouds begin to break, a ray of sunshine beginning to shine through. “What…. What have I let slide?”

She looked off to the side, as if the words she needed were hidden somewhere in the cargo hold. “Honestly?” She met your eyes. “Yourself.”

“It was my fault-”

“It happened.” Leaning forward, she left no room for question as she put a hand on your upper arm. “All that matters now is how you fix it.”

Suddenly a blaster shot fired, another body thudded to the ground, and a man started yelping in pain. Turning toward the opening where the ship was docked to the transport, you stood up and took a few steps closer, nearly running into Cara as she stomped past you.

“That was my warning shot,” she mumbled, stuffing her blaster into its holster on her hip.

Looking back at the opening, you saw Din staring after her in concern, his shoulders rising and falling in a heavy sigh as he watched his friends fall a little further apart. 

Rushing into the transport, you put your hands on the shoulders of the man, startling him.

He tried to back away from you, looking up with wide eyes, but you held him in place firmly.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re Doctor Pershing, right?”

He nodded, wincing at the motion and cradling his right ear.

“Mind if I take a look?”

Slowly lowering his hand, he gently shook his head, turning slightly to offer you a better angle. “Your angry friend shot my captor- something I’m grateful for, don’t get me wrong- just…. It was a bit close to my ear.”

“It ruptured your eardrum, didn’t it?”

He nodded hesitantly. “Some bacta should help. If we get to it soon.”

You smiled. “I have something better than bacta.”

“Wha-”

Reaching out, you placed your hand over his ear, making him wince and try to pull away from you. Holding him in place with your other hand on his shoulder, you took a deep breath, doing what you had done for Din back on Morak, and mending his injury. “Sorry about my friend. She can get a little hot headed. I’m sure she’ll apologize in a little bit, but for now….” You pulled your hand away, lowering your voice since he could now hear again out of that side, “I’ll just have to do. There. All better.”

His mouth opened and closed a few times, an attempt at words but only a croak coming out in disbelief. Finally he was able to mutter, “How?”

You’d almost expected him to ask why, but as he asked how instead, you understood. He may have studied the workings of the Force, and understood it on a molecular level, but that didn’t mean he truly knew its capabilities. Plus, he’d only ever been exposed to a truly dark and twisted side of things, one that was selfish and manipulative. That side would never reach out and heal just for the sake of it. They’d reach out a hand just to strike you further down. Or make sure you stayed there.

“Friends take care of each other. I’d call us friends, wouldn’t you?” He nodded hesitantly, eyes darting to the Mandalorian hovering behind you before coming back to you. “And you’re going to help us find the kid, aren’t you?” He nodded again, making you smile a bit broader. “That’s it then. We help you, you help us.” 

You got to your feet, standing beside Din, and helping Pershing to his feet. Once he was standing, though, you didn’t let go of his hand, making sure he met your gaze as you held his hand a bit too tight. “But if anything goes wrong…. I can’t make any promises about my friend out there. As you’ve already seen, she’s a bit of a loose canon. Can’t really tell what she’ll do if she gets upset.”

Eyes wide, Pershing nodded in understanding, eyes flitting between you and Din rapidly, then darted where Cara had disappeared before landing back on you. “Understood.”

Xxx

Fennec’s talk had caused the clouds to break, but your mind was still overcast and dreary; thoughts dark and dismal pulling you into another spiral you were fighting hard to stay on the edge of, and not get sucked down under. So far you’d kept your head above water, but with every kick to tread and stay up, you were getting more and more tired.

Staring out one of the side viewports of Boba’s ship, you watched the stars crawl lazily by, as your arms crossed over your chest held you tight. The soft clink of beskar clad steps came up behind you, the looming hover of the cool metal just out of reach as he stood a mere breath away brought a soothing wash over your skin.

“You’re not going to say anything?” You mumbled after a long moment of silence.

“Mmm-mmm,” he hummed, the gentle shake of his head causing the fabric of his cowl to brush the back of your head. 

“Thank you.” A deep breath. “Why not?”

“Do you want me to?”

You shrugged. “Not particularly.” You smirked at his huff of laughter. “Everyone else has, though. Including you. Just figured we’d come full circle and it was your turn again.”

He shrugged this time, the motion jostling him a bit closer, just enough that he was barely touching you. “You’re going to feel what you feel. I can’t change that by telling you over and over that I think it's wrong.”

“But you do?”

He sighed. “Mesh’la….” He closed the last breath of distance between you, pressing his chest along your spine. “I’ve said my piece. You know how I feel, what I think. Me beating you over the head with it like Peli adjusting something on the Crest isn’t gonna change anything.” His modulator lowered down beside your ear. “All I can do is stay here and keep fighting alongside you, hopefully beating whatever is winning in that head of yours…. Because it’s wrong. And I hate what it’s doing to you.”

You smiled to yourself. “It’s just me up here.”

“That’s not the full you. That’s the broken you. I know because….” He sighed. “Because I’m a little bit broken, too.”

The silence sat comfortably between you for a long moment. When you finally spoke again, your voice was soft, but felt harsh in the new quiet you’d found.

“How are you not falling apart?”

“Who says I’m not?” He didn’t miss a beat.

You let out a snort, a sardonic chuckle chasing after it as you shook your head gently. “That’s not fair, you have armor to hold you together.”

“It’s not the armor.” His voice was quiet, but he spoke with a conviction that made your breath catch in your chest.

Your conversation from back on Coruscant came back to you.

“I’m sorry I scared you, years ago.”

“What do you-”

“You’re right. You do wear armor. And I can only imagine how it felt to have something break past those defenses.” 

It was nearly silent as you studied his visor, your reflection staring back at you in the low light. The only sounds were Grogu’s snoring, the muted drone of traffic several levels up, the quiet lull of street noises from below, and both of your quiet breaths.

“I hope you know you don’t have to keep wearing it for me.” Your eyes flitted between his, despite the visor. Somehow you knew. “If you want to, that’s okay. I understand. That’s part of who you are. But….” You took a surprisingly shaky breath, and his hand came to rest on your hip, his thumb tracing soothing patterns while he waited for you to finish. You had to screw your eyes shut to focus on the last few words. “But I just wanted you to know. I’d be your armor if you needed- wanted me to.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, the darkness so much easier to hide in. How ironic, since you had just offered him a way out of something similar.

The next thing you knew, the cool touch of beskar against your forehead for the third time tonight made you take in a shuddering breath.

“I’d like that,” you heard him rumble lowly, making you smile. 

A long moment passed with just the two of you and shared space before you finally opened your eyes. “What’s going on in there, Tin Can?”

Din huffed out a soft laugh as he gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “I can’t decide which is prettier armor. You or beskar.”

Your arched brows of curiosity fell flat along with your tone. “Really?”

“You asked.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Okay. Moment’s over.” You pushed away from him, your hands already resting on his chest pressing him onto his back in the process.

“Mesh’la, come on. I was only teasing,” Din protested over a laugh, reaching a hand after you as you got under the covers.

You looked up at him, unimpressed. “If you say, ‘we both know it’s the beskar’, joke or not, so help me, a bad bed roll will be the least of your back pain worries.”

His hand recoiled slightly as if you had burned him. “Okay, that’s fair.”

You smirked. “I thought so.”

Turning, arms still cradling your upper half, you tilted your head back to look at him straight on. Staring into his visor, your reflection the only thing looking back at you, it took everything you had to fight the sinking feeling in your gut. “Din, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

He crowded further into your space, making your head tilt back even more. “Do what?”

“Keep going. I know I have to, and I will for the kid, for you, but…. I feel like I’m about to break.”

“Then break.” His arms slowly came around your waist.

“What?” Brows knit in confusion, you blinked up at his visor.

“Go ahead and fall. I’ll catch you.”

“Din-”

“Remember on Tatooine when you decided to use the Force to shoot the packets?” You nodded. “It zapped you so fast you couldn’t hardly stand up, but I stood right there behind you, and kept you up, until it was too much. Then-”

“You let me fall.” Smiling softly, you leaned your face into his cowl taking a much needed deep breath, what felt like the first in a while. He smelled like plasma, and smoke, faintly of Morak, something simply him, and….. home. 

Suddenly the air didn’t feel so oppressive, gravity wasn’t pushing you down so hard. Unwinding your arms from around yourself, they found their way around Din, holding him tight. They found their way home, knowing exactly where to go.

“Mmm-hmm,” he hummed into your hair, his grip around you cinching tighter. “I let you fall back into me, then I made sure you were safe until you were ready to try again.”

“How did I end up with someone like you in my life?” You mumbled the words lazily into his cowl, the corners of your mouth curving further up.

The smile on his face was evident in his tone. “You’re a really great bartender.”

Xxx

Din was able to track Bo-Katan and Koska down on some backwater planet you didn’t even know the name of. At this point it didn’t really matter, they were all bleeding together. You just wanted to get a team together and get the kid. And if that included killing or maiming a Moff in the process…. Well that was just fine with you. Anyone who would steal and torture a child deserved the absolute worst punishment. Especially if that child was Grogu. Was yours.

Walking into the local cantina, you hovered behind Din and Boba, all three of you standing tall as the patrons started to notice you one by one. Conversations went silent, laughter dying out as they realized who exactly had darkened their doorway. They began to flee the building, some of them being sly about it, others just blatantly running past, but no one wanted to linger when two more bodies in beskar walked through the door.

One or two pointed to the saber on your hip, and a sense of pride swelled in your chest. Let them see. You may not have a suit of beskar, but a saber carried just as much infamy. Hopefully it kept more of the Gideon’s of the galaxy away from you and yours.

The cantina slowly emptied until it was just Bo-Katan and Koska eating at a table on the far end and your little party of three. A handful of patrons had waited until the bounty hunters had walked all the way through the establishment before they bolted, jostling you where you stood, still by the door. 

Leaning against the frame, arms across your chest, you sighed as a Rodian inched past you cautiously, and you swore a wary smile was tugging up one side of his face but you knew that was impossible.

“I need your help.” Din’s voice was gruff.

Bo-Katan sighed. “Not all Mandalorians are bounty hunters.” She wasn’t wearing her helmet, and neither was Koska, so nothing was there to hide the annoyance on her face as she turned toward your little party of three. Her eyes flicked up and down Boba before landing back on Din’s visor. “Some of us serve a higher purpose.”

“They took the child,” Din explained in a heavy tone, the hesitance in his words slowing them down to something almost broken. Reluctant.

That got her attention. “Who?” To her credit, her features melted into genuine concern, the wheels in her head already turning to plot a rescue.

Din answered without a moment's hesitation, his voice once again the low, confident growl you were used to. “Moff Gideon.”

You made your way further into the cantina, leaning on your right shoulder against the pillar beside Din, nodding once to Bo-Katan when she met your eyes.

She returned the gesture before her gaze fell down to the knife on your belt and a fond smile briefly turned up her features before it melted away just as fast. “You’ll never find him.” She turned back toward her plate of food, Koska doing the same beside her. 

Boba turned to look at you, his head tilting to the side in explanation instead of speaking, then lifted his visor toward Din. “We don’t need these two. Let’s get outta here.”

Bo-Katan’s attention immediately snapped toward the green set of beskar, her body angling toward him as she spoke. “You are not a Mandalorian.”

“Never said I was.” Boba only turned his head to peer at her across his shoulder. The movement was almost lazy, and it made you want to snicker. His voice was somewhat bored, and you leaned your head back into the pillar, settling in for the show.

“I didn’t know sidekicks were allowed to talk,” Koska finally piped up, directing her sarcastic comment toward Boba.

This made you push off the pillar, your arms coming to rest on your hips near your belt laden with weapons. Keeping your eyes on the other Mandalorian, you stayed back when Boba subtly held his arm out to stop you. This was his fight. 

Sidling up to their table, he chuckled dryly. “Well if that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.” He pulled up short when Koska got to her feet and stood right in his face. “Easy there, little one.”

Stepping closer the minuscule amount left between them, her nose practically brushing against his visor, she issued further threats as her head bobbed side to side for emphasis. “You’ll be talking through the window of a bacta tank.”

Your hand slowly lowered to your blaster hanging in the holster on your belt.

Bo-Katan held out her hand toward the two Mandalorians, her tone exasperated. “All right, easy. Save it for the Imps.”

Lowering your hand off of your blaster, you straightened your spine as Koska sat back down in her seat, and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Din thankfully moved the subject along. “We have his coordinates.”

The look of surprise on Bo-Katan’s face was priceless. “You can bring me to Moff Gideon?”

“The Moff has a light cruiser. It could be helpful in your effort to regain Mandalore.”

“You gotta be kidding me. Mandalore?” Boba turned to Din. Taking the few steps back toward the shiny Mandalorian, his voice had taken on disbelief. “The Empire turned that planet to glass.”

Bo-Katan was seething. “You are a disgrace to your armor.”

At that point you tuned out. Anything else was just going to upset you. Boba was your friend, and Bo-Katan was needed to get to Gideon. You’d pick a fight if you kept listening to her hurling insults about him being a clone, but you took a page out of Boba’s book, and let it roll off your back. 

All sound faded out for a moment, the silence so loud it was distracting. You stared blankly at the wall behind everyone.

Din settled into the pillar beside you, leaning against his left shoulder, and drawing you out of your trance. Smiling softly at the tilt of his head and heavy sigh that followed, you arched a brow at him in question. 

His shoulders rose and fell with another sigh, the words coming out on the exasperated breath. “Might as well get comfy.”

Your brow tilted further up into your hairline, the corner of your mouth trying to match it. “Why? What’s happening?”

Koska was thrown into a nearby table by Boba, the stone shattering under the impact, sending dust and rubble skittering across the floor.

“Mandalorian argument,” Din grunted.

“Doesn’t an argument usually involve words?” You asked, settling your spine against the pillar, watching as Koska and Boba exchanged blows.

Leaning his head to his left toward you, you tilted yours to the right to meet him in the middle. “This is a special dialect of Mando’a,” Din teased.

Both of you split apart almost lazily as Koska’s feet flew into the pillar, ran across its surface while her jet pack ignited and sent her head over heels in a flip, Boba’s head locked in her grip the whole way.

You came back together as if nothing had happened, resuming your previous positions as the green beskar landed on the ground with a thud, popping up just as fast and two opposing flamethrowers ignited, meeting in the middle in a shower of flames.  

“Enough! Both of you!” Bo-Katan barked in annoyance.

When the fires didn’t go out, you rolled your eyes, pushing off the pillar and flipping over the wall of heat, igniting your saber and making it zing off your vambrace.

Their flames sputtered to a halt as sparks flew from your armor. Bo-Katan bowed her head to you once in thanks, her eyes wide. You returned it, a tight smile on your face as you disengaged the blade. 

Bo-Katan continued pointedly, eyes flicking between the two Mandalorians. “If we had shown half that spine to the Empire we would’ve never lost our planet.” She turned to Din. “We will help you. In exchange, we will keep that ship to retake Mandalore. If you should manage to finish your quest, I would have you reconsider joining our efforts. Mandalorians have been in exile from our home world for far too long.”

“Fair enough.” You could tell Din was just saying what she wanted to hear. He had no intentions of joining her cause. It made you smile softly. Ever the diplomat…. Give or take some aggressive negotiations.

“One more thing. Gideon has a weapon that once belonged to me. It is an ancient weapon that can cut through anything.” Her eyes fell to the hilt of your saber now hung back on your belt as you made your way back to Din’s side. 

“Almost anything.” Koska looked at you pointedly before turning her gaze to Bo-Katan.

“It cannot cut through pure beskar.” Bo-Katan held Koska’s stare, then her eyes fell to your vambraces before they returned to Din. “But then your riduur already gave us an example of that.” Before you could say anything she continued. “I will kill the Moff and retake what is rightfully mine. With the Darksaber restored to me, Mandalore will finally be within reach.” (“Partner.”)

Your head began to swim again. So much rested on one man. Kriffing Moff Gideon. The restoration of Mandalore, the reunion of a clan, the mending of your heart…. It was all becoming a bit overwhelming. All it took was one little thing going wrong, and…. Just one thing….

Din peered down at her, his voice stable and calm. “Help me rescue the child and you can have whatever you want. He is my only priority.”

That shouldn’t hurt like it did. You knew he meant it only in the sense of her eagerness to fight Moff Gideon, but you couldn’t help but take it personally. It burrowed down under your skin and stung more than a prick from your training remote.

What did you expect?

It was always the kid.

You knew that.

You were always second.

Suck it up and move on. 

The voices in your head made you angry, and what’s worse, sounded a lot like you. There was no kyber to blame, no unseen force pulling at strings…. It was just your messed up brain.

You had to get out of there. Din would understand. He probably saw you as a liability already anyway. 

A shuddering breath filled your lungs as you took a step backwards towards the door. That last thought made you sad.

If there was one thing you never wanted, it was to be a burden for him. But looking back, that’s all you’d ever been. He’d had to teach you, feed you, house you…. There’s not a moment where he wasn’t devoting his time to keeping an eye on you. He gave the kid more freedom than you.

Turning, you strode out of the cantina, ignoring Din’s calls at your back.

“Mesh’la!”

Finally a gloved hand wrapped around your elbow, pulling you to a stop, but not before you ripped your arm out of his hold.

Rounding on him, you turned to stare at his visor with a flat expression and took a step backward. “What?”

He slowed to a stop about a foot away from you. “I should be asking you the same thing!”

“So much is riding on this one man. Everything…. If just one thing goes wrong…. And I don’t…. I don’t know what I would do if….” Arms crossed over your chest, you held his gaze. “I just finally put it together, Din. He’s your only priority, you said it yourself. I’m nothing but a burden here. I can’t teach the kid, you have to teach me everything, from flying the ship to fixing it to defending myself…. You never let me out of your sight! It’s like…. I finally got it. I’m a liability, so I’ll just go.”

Turning, you didn’t even make it a step before you froze again at the sound of his voice.

“Mesh’la….” When you wouldn’t turn around, he continued. “I don’t let you out of my sight because I can’t.” You scoffed. “I don’t want to. You’re the first thing I want to see each morning and the last thing before I fall asleep.” His voice got closer. “In fact, that’s one of the reasons I don’t want to sleep, because I don’t want to miss a second.” He drew closer still. “Yeah, I’d call you a liability, but for the first time, I’m willing to have a target on my back if that means I get you in my life. You’re a liability because if you left, I don’t know what I would do.”

You huffed. “What, you can’t find someone else to watch the kid?”

“I can’t find someone else to make me laugh.” Din didn’t miss a beat. He continued down his list as if it was ready made on the tip of his tongue. “To put all the blasters in the weapons locker backwards because they know it annoys me. I can’t find someone else who’s had me in a chokehold from the moment I saw them. I don’t like people, you know that. But I really, really-”

“Tolerate me?”

You didn’t have to turn around to know his weight had shifted to one leg, his head tilted to the side in disbelief. “Yeah. That’s it. I tolerate you. I tolerate you bad.” 

You couldn’t help the chuckle as you rolled your eyes.

His voice was closer when he spoke again, the gravel of the planet crunching underfoot as he drifted slowly nearer to you. “I tolerate you a lot. All the time. You walk in the cockpit and it’s just like the first time I saw you all over again. You make me act like an idiot.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Well, at least we can agree on that.”

“My brain stops. I forget what I’m doing.” His chest was pressed along your spine now, his hands on your upper arms, modulator by your ear as he went on. “It’s dangerous. So yeah, you’re a liability.” His grip on your arms tightened. “Good thing I’m in indestructible armor.”

The snort of laughter fell out before you could stop it, more coming out to meet it as soft chuckles buzzed out of his chest and along your skin as he closed his arms around your upper body, pulling you tightly to him. 

“Gar cuyi ner aliit. Ni kar'tayli darasuum gar. Gar cuyi ner mir'sheb bal gar utreekov kar'tayli darasuum gar, cyar’ika.” His voice was low and quiet, but happy. (“You are my family. I love you. You are my smartass, and your idiot loves you, darling.”)

Lifting your hands up to rest on his still around you, you couldn’t fight the grin crawling up your face. “Bal gar mir'sheb kar'tayli darasuum gar.” (“And your smartass loves you.”)

His helmet pressed into the crook of your neck, the buzz of his modulator tickling your skin. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I should have phrased what I said to Bo differently.” He groaned softly. “Ni cuyi gar utreekov, partayli?” (“I am your idiot, remember?”)

You turned in his hold, pressing your forehead to his. “Ni kar'tayli. Ni kar'tayli gar. Gar cuyi ner kar'ta, partayli?” You sighed, closing your eyes. “I’m sorry I overreacted. I’m just so on edge since everything with the kid, and I…. Thank you for understanding. And thank you for fighting for me, Tin Can. Even though it’s not much of a risk with that indestructible armor.” Your eyes flew open, looking at the T of his visor through your lashes and cocking one eyebrow skeptically. (“I know. I know you. You are my heart, remember?”)

“Shi par gar,” he whispered, his voice tight with an obvious smile. (“Only for you.”)

Xxx

Once everyone boarded Boba’s ship, a plan started to form. Before the group huddled around the holotable, you noticed Koska quietly complimenting some of the weapons stowed in a cluttered corner of the deck. You smiled softly as she and Boba fell into a brief amicable conversation about how he acquired the items, their scuffle back in the cantina long forgotten.

With a roll of your eyes you continued toward the rest of the party. Mandalorians.

Din stood at the back of the group as usual, hands tightly gripping his belt as he watched the others set up the display. The leather of his gloves creaked in protest with every flex of his hands against the thick strip of material around his waist.

Leaning into his side, you pretended to adjust his bandolier, speaking softly so only he could hear. “You okay?”

His visor turned down toward you in question, so you silently slid your hand down toward the hand closest to you, prying it from his hip and slipping your fingers through his with a gentle squeeze.

He let out a sigh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah. Sorry. Just…. We’re almost there.”

You turned your head so you were facing the wall behind you, keeping the conversation completely private. “Din Djarin nervous?” Your eyes flicked up to meet the T of his visor, along with a smirk. “Well that’s a first.”

“And that’s a lie,” Din grumbled. “You do all kinds of things that make me nervous.”

“Aw,” blinking your eyes an absurd number of times, you rested your free hand on his chest. “That’s sweet.”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” he groused. “I meant things like cooking and fighting. Just normal, everyday things.”

Patting his chest plate a few times, a tight smile pulled up your features. “I know.” With one last squeeze of his hand, you leaned in and whispered, “We’ll talk about it later.”

Din swallowed roughly. “See? Things like that.”

A holo of a massive ship spun in front of Bo-Katan’s face, painting her features in a soft blue glow. “This is Moff Gideon’s Imperial light cruiser. In the old days it would carry a crew of several hundred. Now it operates with a tiny fraction of that.” She smiled smugly as she watched the hologram spin.

“Your assessment is misleading.” All eyes turned to the soft voice of Doctor Pershing where he sat perched in a seat right in front of you. He may be soft spoken, but he wasn’t afraid to speak up, and you admired that.

Placing your free hand on his shoulder, you smiled down at him reassuringly when he glanced up your way, nodding once to encourage him to go on. 

“Oh, great. An objective opinion.”

Cutting your eyes Cara’s way, you made sure to shoot her a look through narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. She only shrugged in return, sending your eyes rolling.

“This isn’t subterfuge. I assure you.”

“Let him speak.” Bo-Katan’s interest surprised you, but the more you thought about it, it really didn’t. If the information he had was true, it affected every aspect of her plan.

Pershing let out a sigh. Relief washed over his face, his shoulders rounding forward as he let out the breath. “There’s a garrison of dark troopers on board. They’re the ones who abducted the child.”

That seemed to get Din’s attention. “How many troopers do they have armed in those suits?”

Now that he was back under the scrutiny of a beskar gaze, Pershing sat up a little straighter, hesitating slightly, his eyes fixed on the floor. You didn’t blame him. Those visors were intimidating. “These are third-generation design. They are no longer suits. The human inside was the final weakness to be solved. They’re droids.”

“Where are they bivouacked?” Fennec’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, making you tilt your head at her curiously. 

Pershing got to his feet, shooting you a glance, his face pulled into a tight expression before he focused solely on the holo, pressing a short series of buttons. “They’re held in cold storage in this cargo bay. They draw too much power to be kept at ready.”

“How long to power up?”

“A few minutes, perhaps.” Pershing’s tone never flustered. You half expected him to crack after a few minutes, but he truly was just a soft, kind, well intentioned man stuck in the middle of a horrible situation. 

He didn’t even crack when Din asked him another question. 

“Where is the child being held?”

He just pushed another button, the holo filtering through layouts until it settled on the one he wanted, and he began to explain. “This is the brig. He’s being held here under armed guard.”

Pershing turned back to look at you once again, and you nodded, offering him a smile which he was quick to return before settling back into his seat.

Bo-Katan wasted no time. “Very well. We split into two parties.”

“We go alone,” Din was quick to interject, his hand gently squeezing yours.

“Fine,” she said after a moment, shifting her weight, then launching into the rest of the plan. 

You didn’t pay any attention. You probably should have but you couldn’t.

Turning your head toward the wall once again, you stood on your tiptoes to get closer to Din’s ear. He tilted his head slightly to meet you halfway. You opened your mouth to say something snarky, a joke of some sort, but your breath caught in your throat, making you swallow instead. 

Din turned his head to look at you, and it was all you could do to hold the gaze of his visor.

Letting out a quiet huff of air, you whispered a “Thank you,” before your voice stopped working altogether, the emotions lodged in your throat a formidable foe.

The cold touch of his beskar came to rest on your forehead for only a moment before he was turning back to continue listening to the plan. I guess it’s good one of us was, you thought with a snort.

His voice pulled you back into the conversation. “And us?”

Bo-Katan turned to face him, in full planning mode. “We’ll be misdirection. Once we draw a crowd, you slip through the shadows, get the kid.”

“Those dark troopers? They’re gonna be a real skank in the scud pie.”

“Oh, Cara. Ever the optimist,” you sighed, walking over to a seat next to Pershing and plopping down beside him.

“It’s not my fault the Imps are using super droids now!”

“Didn’t say it was….” You massaged the bridge of your nose, eyes screwed shut.

“So what do you suggest? We just wave you at them and they go flyin’?”

Your hand fell to your lap with a slap. “That’s not how the Force works, and you know it.” A smirk started up your face. “But I could throw you at them, knock a few over….”

Cara tilted her head at you, features pulled tight in annoyance.

“Can you two do this later?” Fennec sighed.

“Oh, so it’s okay for two Mandalorians to destroy the inside of a building on a whim, but I can’t insult my friend with a verbal jab when I want?”

“Basically…. Yeah.”

Both you and Cara gave Fennec the look.

“Their bay is on the way to the brig.” Bo-Katan changed the subject pointedly, her gaze flicking between the three of you before finally landing on Pershing. “Can they make it there before they deploy?”

He seemed to mull it over for a moment. “It’s possible.”

“Here.” Fennec pulled something off of the side of Pershing’s uniform and offered it to Din. “Take his code cylinder and seal off their holding bay. Anyone else, we can handle.”

You tilted your head back to look up at Din where he stood behind you, a mischievous smirk crawling up your features. “They ask for a face to scan this time, let me handle it…. Brown eyes.”

He shook his head at you before turning back to the group. “We’ll meet at the bridge.”

Xxx

The ship bumped gently through hyperspace, blue and silver streaks casting everyone in dancing shadows. It was unusually silent in the cockpit of the stolen Imperial shuttle, everyone’s mind on their tasks ahead. 

When Bo-Katan finally spoke, though her tone was quiet, the sound of a voice made you jump. Din snorted in amusement where he stood beside you, the laughter only growing when you reached out to shove his shoulder in annoyance.

“I can’t believe you,” you mumbled. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“Don’t be funny, then,” he countered dryly, turning his visor down toward you.

Glaring up at him, you couldn’t help the quick twitch upward of your lips, opting instead to try and hide it with a roll of your eyes as you focused back on what Bo-Katan was saying.

“Moff Gideon is mine. Got it?”

“Not if he’s mine first,” you mumbled.

Cara stopped cleaning her rifle, and that was how you knew she meant business. “He’s ex-ISB. He’s got a lot of information.” She set the rifle in her lap. Your eyes went wide. She was serious. “I need him alive.”

Bo-Katan sighed, shifting her weight in her seat as she pressed a few buttons on the controls. “I don’t care what happens to him as long as he surrenders to me.”

“Prepare to exit jump space.” Boba’s voice over the comms made you smile. He was on his ship with doctor Pershing. 

“We could freeze him,” Boba offered when the question of what to do with Pershing came up.

You leaned in close to him, ignoring his skeptical expression from his seat opposite your own. “Your carbonite chamber is broken, remember?” Tilting your head, you narrowed your eyes. “Or are you just getting that old, old man?”

Boba turned to you with wide eyes. “He doesn’t know that,” he hissed, jerking his head subtly toward Pershing. 

The man was sitting just a few feet away, trying to give the impression of not listening in to a conversation about his fate.

“For what it’s worth,” he finally chimed in, holding up one finger and swallowing roughly before going on. “I-I d-d-don’t think c-carbonite is n-necessary.”

Boba sighed as Pershing turned to look at the two of you. After a long pause, Boba gestured with one hand for the man to go on. “And why is that?”

“Um.”

“Very compelling.” Boba looked at you pointedly.

The snort of laughter that escaped you in a huff caught you off guard, but the snickering that followed it didn’t. Leaning forward in your chair, you put your hand on Boba’s shoulder, ignoring the way he arched a brow and looked at it like it was a broken hyperdrive. “Come on, friend. It won’t be a problem. Because like you and I, he is also a friend. And friends help each other, don’t they?” Boba slowly lifted his head to hold your gaze once again, simply staring at you, his brows flat and unamused. You gave his shoulder a little shake, and your voice a slight edge. “Don’t they.”

He sighed. 

You smiled, releasing your vice-like grip on his pauldron back to something more forgiving. “They at least don’t freeze each other in carbonite.”

Boba hummed in thought, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “You’ve never met some of my friends.”

As your hand fell into your lap, you stared at him, smile stuck on your face in disbelief. You blinked once, twice. “What?”

“Copy that.” Bo-Katan smiled softly. “Get the hell out of there as soon as they clear us to dock. And your shots have to look convincing.”

Boba huffed out a laugh. “Power up those shields, princess. I’ll put on a good show.”

“Watch out for those deck cannons.” 

Looking at Bo-Katan with wide eyes, your eyebrows narrowed in confusion before you looked up into Din’s visor, one brow rising into your hairline. “Well. That bridge was mended fast,” you muttered under your breath. 

Din simply shrugged one shoulder in response, his head shaking slightly as if to say, “Don’t look at me, I’m just as confused as you are.” 

Probably more, you thought with a grin as you turned back toward the viewport.

Boba muttered something under his breath. Then his voice softened, an undercurrent of something almost concerned painting his tone. “Don’t worry about me. Just be careful in there.”

“You be careful out here, old man.” Your words whispered for only yourself to hear, a tight smile pulled up your face when Fennec snorted out a soft laugh to your left. Her eyes met yours, a gentle shake of her head her only response before she focused back out the viewport. 

Silence settled once again throughout the cabin, this one a bit more tense than the first. It was time. On the other side of this jump lay uncertainty and conflict…. But it also held your heart. You were one stop away from healing. And for some reason that made you grip the handle by your head tighter. 

Koska’s soft countdown pulled you back into the moment at hand. “Exiting hyperspace in three, two, one…”

The ship lurched, sending you stumbling forward slightly as the streams of hyperspace slid into streaks of silver stars. Gideon’s light cruiser loomed through the viewport, filling the space from end to end and growing as the ship approached it rapidly.

Boba shot at the shuttle in bursts, both ships weaving back and forth as the bolts narrowly missed the hull.

You could almost hear Boba’s voice in your head. “That was my warning shot.”

Bo-Katan called out a fake mayday, asking for help from the cruiser, but everyone exchanged a nervous look when a response came back to clear the way for TIE support.

As she tried to call the bluff, heading straight for the landing bay as planned while yelling something else into the comms, you shifted your weight to avoid falling as she took a particularly aggressive turn to the right. The quick upward motion of the ship that followed knocked the wind out of you with a huff.

“I hope she fights better than she flys,” you leaned toward Din, grumbling about Bo-Katan and groaning as she swerved again, sending you stumbling into his chest.

His arms wrapped around your waist, one of them reaching up to grab onto the handle for stabilization as he peered down at you with a slight tilt of his head. “This feels familiar.”

A snort of laughter had you tucking your face into his cowl with another groan. “Yeah, it’s almost like we need to make better friends, or at least some who fly with some sense of survival.”

“We haven’t died yet.”

“Yet is the key word there.”

Streaks of green from TIE fighter blasts shot past the viewport, illuminating the cabin on their way past.

Closing your eyes, you focused on the nearest enemy ship, reaching out through the Force in an attempt to send it spiraling through space when a hand on your shoulder stopped you short. Blinking your eyes open, you turned down toward the grip to find a gloved hand holding you tight.

“Uh-uh,” Din’s voice was low, similar to the way he admonished the child. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I was just….”

“You were just nothing. Nope. I don’t wanna hear it, mesh’la.”

Arms crossed over your chest as you faced forward, you cut your eyes to the side to glare at him. “You’re no fun.”

He nodded once in agreement, not even bothering to look your way. “I’m the absolute worst.”

Before you could respond, the ship lurched again, the mechanical whirr of the wings folding in for landing vibrating the floor under your feet. 

“Hang on!” Fennec yelled, holding on to the bottom of her seat as if bracing for impact.

A quick glance through the viewport showed sparks beginning to fly as the transport touched down inside the cruiser with a massive jolt.

Din held you close with one arm, the handle overhead with the other. You gripped his cowl with both hands as if your life depended on it.

Reaching out with the Force one more time, you searched for the other half of this elaborate plot to get onboard the cruiser, feeling him just on the edge of your awareness before he blipped out altogether. “Boba’s clear,” you breathed on a sigh.

The ship came to a shuddering halt, the screech of metal on metal filling the air along with a thick smoke that obscured most everything.

“Leave some for us,” you mumbled to Bo-Katan as she passed by you toward the lowering ramp, blasters drawn and ready.

You couldn’t see her face because of her helmet, but you could tell from her tone that she was smirking. “I’m not making any promises.”

The first wave waited for as many of the enemy to surround the downed transport before they stormed the hangar, the bay a storm of blaster bolts raining down and jet packs sounding off. 

The sounds of troopers screaming and issuing hollow threats grew further and further away, until they reached the other end of the hangar, finally coming to an abrupt end with a single shot. It was over almost faster than it had begun, silence filling the hangar after a matter of moments.

Both you and Din hung back in the cockpit, watching the whole thing on a display until the party disappeared through a door on the other side of the hangar.

“We’re clear,” Bo-Katan’s voice filled the transport from the comm on your hip. “Give us two minutes then go.”

Din pushed a button on the side of his helmet to reply. “Copy that.” He began to follow you toward the ramp. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Bo-Katan snorted. “This is the Way.”

Xxx

Din POV

Din chuckled as he came to a stop a few feet behind you, simply watching in silence. The thick smoke almost concealed you even just the short distance in front of him, but it was just thin enough that it swirled around you in some sort of eerie embrace that kept you still in his sights. 

If he was being honest, that’s how things had felt lately since the kid had gone - hazy and unclear. But there was always you somewhere in the middle of all the muddle to grab his hand and pull him through.

If he was being brutally honest…. That was how things had always been with you. Not just lately. Not just sometimes. From the time he met you, everything else seemed to slip into a fog and if it wasn’t for your guiding hand, he’d truly be lost.

It wasn’t that he quit finding joy in other things in life.

But those things meant nothing now if he couldn’t share them with you. Somehow. If he couldn’t find a way to bring them, or himself, back to you.

Din smiled and sighed quietly to himself, walking the last few steps silently.

There was time for all of this later, right now…. He had to get the kid.

You both had to get the kid.

This clan of three had been a clan of two for too long.

Xxx

Normal POV

Standing at the top of the ramp, arms crossed, a smirk crawled up your face.

“What are you doing?” Din’s voice behind you didn’t startle you for once, making the turn of your lips grow.

Trilling the fingers of your right hand, you watched the smoke tendrils near the bottom of the ramp curl and unfurl as you manipulated them slowly; the smile on your face going nowhere anytime soon.

“Having fun.” Tilting your head back to look at him with a broad grin, your fingers still moving in slow swirls, you chuckled softly at his amused sigh and gentle shake of his head. “What? Is there something else I’m meant to be doing?”

“Scoping out the hang-”

“It’s clear.” The smirk returned as you straightened your head to scan the docking bay. “Not a single life form left after our first wave went through. Well, aside from one.”

“Where?” Din drew his blaster, head instantly on a swivel as he surveyed the hangar.

“Right…. Here.” You sent the smoke swirling around him, making him swat at it, batting it away with an annoyed groan as you laughed. “Then again, could be a false reading. Been told bounty hunters are heartless.”

Din grunted, holstering his blaster as he closed the distance between you. “Oh, I’ve gotta heart. Want me to prove it?”

You laughed as your back hit the frame of the opening at the top of the ramp, Din crowding into your space. “I know you do, I know you do. I was only teasing. Kriff, you’re so easy to mess with sometimes.” 

Hands on his chest, you tried to push him off. Grunting in frustration when he didn’t move, you arched a brow and peered up into his visor, a soft laugh tumbling out despite yourself. “Hey. Shiny. Let me go. We have work to do. Little green kid. This big?” You held up your hands between you for reference. “Eats everything in sight? Cute as can be and stubborn as a tooka under threat of a bath?” 

Din just kept staring down at you, his head tilted slightly to the right. You pushed on his chest again with another grin. “Remember him? Hey!”

“There she is.”

You huffed out a breath in confusion as you stared up into his visor. “What?” 

“You’re laughing again. Smiling. You should do that more often.”

Staring over his shoulder absently, you realized you felt content for the first time in a while. “Yeah, I guess I am.” Meeting the T of his visor, you felt a smile climb your face like it was the most natural thing. “I guess it’s because the kid is so much closer for the first time since he was taken. I can feel him, Din. It’s like a part of me that was missing is whole again.”

“You can sense him?” He sounded breathless.

You nodded.

“Is he alright?” He was almost hesitant, but hopeful nonetheless.

Reaching out to wrap yourself around the familiar aura, you felt your soul begin to mend its broken parts. A soft laugh tumbled out as you felt a streak of mischief you knew all too well, followed by hunger, then love.

“He’s going to be okay.”

Xxx

Moving around the cruiser was easy, the team that went ahead of you drawing most of the attention of the crew that remained.

You and Din slinked through the hallways like shadows, evading the few troopers you came across without issue. 

An abandoned blaster in one lone hallway caught your attention; without thinking, you went to step out into the corridor to get it, stopping short when the neckline of your shirt cinched tight around your neck. Sputtering, you were jerked back into a beskar wall by a lone, gloved finger in the back of your collar.

“What the hell, Din?!” You hissed as you reached up to tear your top out of his tight grip.

His other hand came up to cover your mouth as two troopers walked by at the end of the hall. The hand in your shirt slipped down around your waist to pull you both further back into the shadows.

“You could have just said something,” you mumbled against his palm, rolling your eyes at his world weary sigh. With a flick of your wrist, you summoned the blaster to you from its spot on a lone crate across the corridor. Turning it over in your hands as you examined it, you hummed softly in thought. “Can you let me go now please?” His hand was still over your mouth so the words were completely jumbled.

“Will you stop trying to cross the street like a drunken baby wookie?”

You sighed into his hand, eyes staring up at the ceiling. “It’s a hallway, not a street, Din.”

“You’re not helping your case, mesh’la.”

You flipped the blaster to stun. “Does that help my case?”

Din heaved another sigh, lowering his hand and nudging you forward out of the alcove. “Let’s go. We’re almost there.”

As a smirk crawled up your face, you followed after him.

“Why have you become so violent?” He mumbled.

“I’ve learned from the best,” smirk melting into a grin, you jammed the blaster into the back of your pants.

Din turned down a hall on the left, then the right, before going straight down another long corridor. Every surface was shiny and reflective. Sterile. You wanted out of here as fast as possible.

Din groaned quietly. “Why do I feel you’re not talking about me?”

Both of you answered his question in unison. “Cara.” You nodded while his head tilted to the side before straightening.

Another left turn.

“Now see,” he mused, stopping to check the layout on the nav in his helmet. “I was going to say Fennec.”

Straight.

Your face twisted in thought. “I could see that…. She-”

He pulled you into a little alcove just as another two troopers walked by, causing you to collide with his chest with a soft thud. The troopers stopped at the sound, peering down the hall you were tucked just out of sight in, making the two of you press further into the wall and by extension, one another. Holding a finger up to your lips, you waited for Din to nod in acknowledgment before staring blankly at the wall next to his shoulder, deep in focus. 

After a moment, both troopers jumped slightly, looking behind them, then ambled off in search of the phantom sound you’d caused down the hall.

“I can’t believe you jumped,” one said.

“You did, too!” The other protested.

“Did not. I was just trying to turn around before you did.”

“Sure,” his friend said sarcastically.

“You know what,” the first one started. “If you don’t stop coming after me, I’m going to tell the Moff about the time you….”

Their voices faded around the corner, soft sounds of bickering trailing to nothing after a few moments.

Din chuckled, looking down at you, but made no effort to move. “You’re very handy to have around.”

You smirked. “Thank you.”

Xxx

A short while later, after just a few twists and turns, you came around a corner that had Din pressing a button on the side of his helmet to pull up his nav, his blaster drawn in the other hand. 

“This is it,” he mumbled, reaching down and pulling out the code cylinder from his belt. Glancing at a panel on the wall a short ways down the hall by a set of doors, his steps picked up as he hurried toward the controls, breaking into a sprint with a sudden, “No. No!” when the doors began to hiss open.

He clicked it in just in time, sending the doors the opposite way, but not quite fast enough for his liking. In a split second he had shifted his weight and began to fire his blaster through the small crack still left open between the two doors. 

You thought it all was over until two hands, two mechanical hands, the same hands you'd seen wrapped around the child on Tython, slipped through the remaining sliver left between the doors and pried them open.

Despite Din’s relentless open fire, the droid continued forward, pulling one arm back and punching Din square in the front of his helmet which sent him flying back into the wall. The droid then opened the doors enough to slip through before they slammed shut behind it.

Menacing red eyes stared lifelessly as it stalked closer to Din.

“Hey, bolt brain!”

The droid turned its head to look at you with a mechanical whirr, and you wasted no time. Charging toward your opponent, you did the attack that was second nature now. It was instinct. 

“Not today, grease breath,” you mumbled as you leapt into the air, wrapping your legs around the neck of the droid in an attempt to take it down.

But instead of both of you going down in a pile of limbs, the droid reached up, grabbed your thigh in its inhumanly tight grip, pulled you from its shoulders, and flung you to the floor as if you weighed nothing. 

The hallway sped by in streaks of dull shine, your skin screeching across the floor until you finally came to a stop several yards away. Nothing was really processing in your mind at that point past, “Well, that didn’t work.”

Suddenly it was like fire was shooting up your leg. Looking down at your thigh near where the droid had grabbed you, there was a tear in your pants, and underneath that a deep, angry gash that looked almost like a burn.

Din had kept firing at the droid while you made your attack, and it seemed a blaster bolt had ricocheted off of the monster and nicked your leg. The more you thought about it, the more it began to hurt. Pain radiated into your lower back and down into your foot, a hiss of discomfort passing through your tightly drawn lips. Biting back a moan, your jaw ticked to the side as you ground your teeth through another wave of agony.

But you didn’t have time to dwell on any of this, even though it had all occurred in just a matter of seconds.

The droid had already set its sights back on Din and had lifted him up against the wall by his throat, holding him in place as it released punch after punch into his visor.

Your only comfort was that his beskar was sure to hold up.

“Din!” You cried out, pushing up onto your palms, the movement causing a new wave of pain to shoot through your leg. Grimacing as you looked down at the wound, your attention was pulled over your shoulder as the platoon of dark troopers left in the bay began to pound on the doors to try and get through.

Turning back toward Din, you reached out as much focus you could offer right now, the wound tugging at the edges of your consciousness and making the lights in the corridor go blurry. The wall behind his head collapsed and a gas line began to fill the hallway with a cloud of the noxious fumes. He was suddenly sending energy down toward his flamethrower, so you withdrew from your mind and engaged your vambrace as well. 

The two pillars of flame met in the middle, dousing the droid in fire and sparks, but it didn’t even seem to slow it down at all. It just looked down at its body as the mechanics moaned and groaned under the heat, then lifted its head back up to look at Din before throwing him down the hall as the droid’s body somehow put out the flames. 

“Din!” You cried out again, anger boiling in your stomach as you watched him slide across the floor and could do nothing to help him. “Dank farrik!”

He was right under the panel and reached up to pull the handle to eject the rest of the dark troopers, but just as his fingers touched the metal, the droid grabbed his leg and tugged him back to the other side of the hall. It took a few steps toward him, then leaned back on one leg and kicked Din in the chest, sending him sliding further down the corridor.

As the droid opened fire at the beskar clad warrior, and Din returned the favor with his whistling birds, you took the opportunity to crawl and get your back up against the wall next to the panel. Relaxing into the durasteel for just a breath, you focused and reached out with the Force, flipping the lever with an unseen hand.

It struggled at first, flickering against the wall as if it didn’t want to move despite your clear intentions for it to just go. The transparisteel at the top of the door between you and the dark troopers cracked from top to bottom. One more hit and they were coming through. As one of the droids reared back to deliver a final punch, the handle flipped, sounding an alarm and opening the bay doors at the back of the area, sucking them all out into space. 

Smirk on your face, you looked up and watched as the dark troopers were pulled away from the small window at the top of the door. “Bye, you sons of-”

You were cut off by the sound of beskar through metal. Turning your head, you looked to find the droid crumbling into a pile of sparks and broken parts at Din’s feet, the beskar spear firmly in his hands. Reattaching the spear to his back, he let out a breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort before he turned his head and saw you perched on the floor.

He was quick to rush over to you, crumbling himself to land on his knees at your side, his hands a contradiction as they trembled, moving slowly toward the wound on your thigh. “Did I?”

“Ricochet,” you corrected him quickly. “When I jumped the droid. Got me good. Just…. Just help me up.”

His shoulder went under your arm immediately as he got you to your feet. “You should head to the bridge. I’ll find the brig, get the kid, and-”

“No.” He met your eyes with his visor, and you held his gaze, eyebrows raised in challenge as you tilted your head to the side. “Din, no. He’s part of my clan, too. I’m coming with you.”

He sighed. “Mesh’la….”

Standing up straighter, trying to take more weight on your bad leg, you stumbled a few steps away from him, or at least attempted to. He didn't let you get but a few inches away before his arm was back around your torso again in support. “At least I didn’t shoot you!”

“I didn’t shoot you,” he grumbled, adjusting your weight against his side. 

Staring at the side of his helmet in a deadpan, you couldn’t help but notice there wasn’t even a scuff mark from where the droid had unleashed its fury. That settled you a bit. But not enough to calm your annoyance. “You shot me.”

He rolled his head in exasperation. “It bounced off the death droid.” Turning as a unit, you both began down the hall toward the brig, Din carrying the brunt of your weight on his shoulder.

You snorted a laugh. “According to you, all droids are death droids.”

“Not the point- Don’t change the subject!”

Now you were snickering. “I didn’t.” Clutching his cowl in your hand thrown around his neck, you gave him a gentle, playful shake. “You shot me, he’s my family, too, so I’m coming. End of story. Now let's go.” You tried to walk a little faster, but with a Mandalorian literally strapped to your hip, it didn’t work very well.

After a few steps down the hall, Din spoke softly. “Bolt brain?”

Turning your head, you found his visor studying your face. “Well I couldn’t exactly call it Tin Can, that’s already taken, isn’t it?”

He nodded before you both continued down the corridor, walking in silence.

“I’m sorry I used your name.” The sigh was second nature now. Just part of being friends with the Mandalorian.

He looked at you. “I’m glad you did.”

“Really?” Your eyes flicked over his visor, every curve and angle spectacularly unaffected from the fight.

Din’s head tilted to the side affectionately, his voice soft. “Yeah.” Coming to a stop, he held your gaze for a quiet moment. “You…. I want…. Use it from now on.”

All you could do was nod.

The two of you turned your focus back forward to once again hobble towards the brig.

It was another minute or so before he spoke again. “I liked grease breath.”

“Really?”

He was obviously smiling. “Yeah.”

Xxx

It took a bit longer because of your injury, but you eventually made it to the brig, only one cell indicating a life form.

You could sense him, and it brought a smile to your face, but you could also sense a…. The smile began to melt just as Din waved his hand over the panel to open the door. “Wait,” you tried, but it was too late.

Pushing off of his side, you stood on your own despite the pain. Din looked to you in question before turning toward the cell once the door was open, his shoulders tensed in understanding.

On the bench in the cell sat Grogu waiting patiently in tiny little binders. Standing beside the kid was a man you could only assume was Gideon, a saber drawn and held precariously close over Grogu’s head. You’d seen enough Imperial officials on Coruscant to be able to read the rank on his uniform.

Din had his blaster drawn in an instant, taking aim the only words needed as he held the gaze of the Moff.

“Ah ah ah,” Gideon chided with a smug smirk, waving the saber over the kid’s head. Any closer and the little hairs on his head would begin to singe. It made your blood boil. If he hurt a hair on his head…. “Drop the blaster. Slowly.” Once Din had done what he’d asked, he gestured to you. “And the one you stole back in the hallway.”

You froze, hands inches from gripping the new blaster tucked into the back of your pants. How did he know? Tossing it aggressively onto the floor next to Din’s with a sneer, you cocked your hip to the side and crossed your arms over your chest, fingernails digging into your biceps to distract you from the pain in your leg.

“Now kick them over to me.” Din held his arm out to keep you in place, knowing you’d probably try to lob them at the Moff with a well placed kick. He nudged them gently across the floor toward the man. “Very nice.”

“Give me the kid.” Din’s voice was gruff and down to business, no room for messing around.

“The kid is just fine where he is.” Angling the saber back and forth, admiring it as he waved it slightly over the kid’s head again, a small smile climbed Gideon’s face. He met your eyes. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it? Used to belong to Bo-Katan.” His gaze flicked to Din, noticing how he shifted his weight just slightly. “Yes. I know you’ve been traveling with Bo-Katan. A friendly piece of advice, assume that I know everything. Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo.”

With a flick of your left wrist, your vambrace whirred to life. “I haven’t used mine.”

Din held out his arm again to hold you back. “Where is this going?”

You reluctantly disengaged the vambrace, studying the saber as the Moff spoke. It was like nothing you’d ever seen. The blade was black with brilliant white energy crackling along the edges, almost giving it the appearance of lightning on a dark night. It hummed at a different frequency than other sabers, you noticed, and the blade had a different shape than you’d ever seen, almost coming to a point at the end. It was truly beautiful, and you could see why it would be something to war over. 

But it didn’t hold your interest nearly as much as the tiny little green face that sat just beside it. The giant eyes blinking slowly up at you in love and trust despite the situation. Not a hint of fear coming off of him. How did you deserve a love like that? How had that come into your life?

“Almost done, ad’ika,” you sent to him through your mind.

His ears perked up at the sound of your voice in his head, but then his features twisted up in concern, eyes falling down to your wound before coming back up to meet your gaze.

“I’ll be okay. Let’s just get out of here first, okay?”

Grogu grunted softly, unamused, but turned his attention back to the Moff, and you did, too.

“You keep it. I just want the kid,” Din was saying, indicating the saber. You think.

You really needed to pay more attention, you groaned to yourself.

Gideon nodded. “Very well. I’ve already got what I want from him. His blood.” His what? “All I wanted was to study his blood.” A bad feeling ran down your spine. “This child is extremely gifted…. and has been blessed with rare properties that have the potential to bring order back to the galaxy.” He really thought this was an okay thing to be doing…. “I see your bond with him.” That was abrupt. “Take him, but you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways.” This didn’t feel right, but nothing on this ship did.

Arms crossed over your chest, you scoffed. “Gladly.”

Din turned to you, his voice low. “Go to the bridge.”

Your head snapped to the side to look at him. “What?” Did you just hear him right? Surely he didn’t…. There’s no way…. 

He took the smallest step toward you, his hand coming out to rest lightly on your elbow. “You’re injured, we’re almost done here….” His grip tightened, your wide eyes falling down to study his steady touch before quickly pulling back up to his visor. “Go to the bridge and tell them to get the ship ready. We have a deal to honor.” His thumb traced your upper arm once before his touch fell away, the ghost of his fingers trailing down to take your hand in his. “Once I have the kid, I’ll meet you all back on the transport and we’ll go home.”

Words weren’t working in your head. Nothing was working right now. Say something. “But-” 

“Mesh’la.” For some reason, you felt if you could see his eyes, they would be pleading. “Go. Now. Please.” Din’s hand released yours, the heat from his fingers wrapped around your own evaporating almost instantly in the cold, lifeless interior of the cruiser, haunting you with its memory.

Taking a few steps backwards, ignoring the pain shooting through your leg, you stepped into the hallway, pausing for a moment to stare at Grogu, then Din before turning and starting toward the bridge. You were tempted to glare at the Moff, but he wasn’t worth your time.

You were just about to round the corner when you heard the zing of kyber on beskar.

Without hesitation you turned and ran back toward the room, your wound forgotten as you charged for the door. “Din!”

The Mandalorian backed out of the doorway blocking blow after blow from the Darksaber, the Moff unrelenting in his attacks.

Din finally gained some ground and got his feet under him, gaining some distance between himself and Gideon, enough to right himself and pull his beskar spear as he slowly circled the Moff.

Stop.

A voice you didn’t recognize echoed through your head, ringing as if it were a hammer striking steel.

Stop. No. 

It echoed like it was in a cavern and not on a cruiser.

This is the Way.

As you skidded to a stop in the middle of the hall, you called out his name again. “Din!” You were behind him, but he didn’t turn to look at you, the only indication he heard you his shoulders tensing at the sound of your voice.

Ad. (“Daughter.”)

What was that voice?! And now it was speaking Mando’a?

“Go,” Din ordered gruffly. 

Slanar. (“Go.”)

You wanted to roll your eyes as the voice agreed with your Mandalorian. Of course it did.

“No.”

Ib’tuur jatne tuur ash’ad kyr’amur. (“Today is a good day for someone else to die.”)

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the Darksaber was talking to you…. Before you could really focus on the blade in the Moff’s hand, Din was moving again. 

“Go,” he yelled again, raising the spear to strike at Gideon, sparks flying on impact. “Now!” He blocked a few more blows from the saber before they leaned into each other, the heat from the kyber causing the spear to turn red hot.

Ret’urcye mhi. (“Maybe we’ll meet again.”)

Okay, mysterious voice. You win this round. You and the Tin Can.

Grunting in frustration, you turned on your heel and ran as fast as you could to the bridge. As you charged through the doors, you held up your hands as at least four blasters were aimed at you. “It’s me, it’s me. Only me.”

“Where’s-”

“Back there,” you grimaced, gesturing over your shoulder with your thumb before you collapsed to the floor clutching your leg.

Cara and Fennec were quick to help you over to a chair, propping your injured leg up on a seat across from you, while Koska sealed the doors and Bo-Katan checked surveillance in the halls.

“I don’t see them,” she said, filtering through several feeds.

“What happened?” Cara asked.

“Blaster ricocheted and got me. We found Gideon and the kid, they made a deal.”

“A deal?”

You nodded to Fennec, grimacing as you clutched the wound on your leg tight.

“He wants us off the ship in exchange for the kid. Mando- Din told me to leave and come here, let you all know we’ll meet back on the transport. Then next thing I know I hear Gideon going at him with the Darksaber-”

“And you didn’t help him?”

You glared at Cara. “Of course I kriffing tried to. Dank farrik, Cara, What else do you think I would do, just sit and watch? Run back here faster? Some other third option?” She rolled her eyes at you, leaning against the console at her back. You sighed, relaxing in your seat, head lolling back and hand coming up to cover your eyes. “He told me to go. Again.” Letting your hand fall down to your lap with a plop, you looked between your two friends. “So I did.” You shrugged. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“He knows what he’s doing,” Fennec offered softly. “He’s only trying to keep you and the kid safe.”

“Yeah, well I am pretty good at that myself,” you grumbled. Before anyone could say anything, you screwed up your face like you’d eaten something sour. “I know, I know.” Arms coming to cross over your chest, you pouted like a petulant child. “It’s not the same.” 

“At the end of the day, what matters is that you’re both able to come home. Does it matter how that happens? Who does the saving?”

All three of you turned your heads over to look at Bo-Katan in unison.

She wouldn’t hold your gazes for long, her eyes falling back to the screen with the surveillance feed. “He’s here at the door…. With the Moff.” She looked at you pointedly, her voice softer and a smile tugging up her face. “And the kid.”

You sat up straight, turning toward the entrance as you waited for the doors to hiss open. Koska punched the button, stepping to the side to give you an unobstructed view, and you could have sworn a soft huff of laughter passed through her modulator.

As soon as Din came through the doors, the kid in one arm, the Darksaber ignited and extended down to the side in the other, the atmosphere in the room shifted. It was like all the air was sucked out. You almost had to glance around and make sure a stray blaster bolt hadn't pierced the viewport and caused a slow leak.

Power radiated off of him as his grip tightened around the hilt of the weapon, his gloves creaking in protest against the pressure while he followed behind Gideon who’s wrists were bound with binders at his front.

The Moff’s eyes were downcast, but they landed on you briefly, sending a shiver crawling down your spine. Sitting up a bit straighter, not wanting to let him win any satisfaction, you grunted in pain slightly when the stretch pulled on the wound on your thigh. Letting a short breath out through your nose to cover the pain, you suddenly forgot all about it when the corner of Gideon’s mouth quirked up in amusement at your suffering.

“The droids miss far less than the troopers,” he mumbled as he passed by you, letting out an annoyed huff as Din nudged him forward toward the rest of the party with a push that was a little more forceful than necessary. 

Din turned his attention toward you, his helmet doing a quick once over from your head down to the floor and back up again. When he saw your leg propped up on the seat in front of where you sat, he disengaged the saber and hurried over to you, kneeling at your side and ignoring your protests.

“I’m fine. Din, I’m fine.” You sighed as he set the saber down on the floor, gently placing Grogu in your lap and inspecting the wound up close. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” he grumbled, reaching for a medkit tucked under one of the stations next to you.

“No, stop it,” you tried to push his hands away as he went to set the kit on your uninjured thigh beside the kid. “Ma- Din, no.”

“Mesh’la,” he sighed, flipping the top of the kit open, groaning in annoyance when you flipped it back shut with an unseen force.

He kept opening it, a total of two more times, only for you to slam it shut again, this time applying a little extra pressure to keep him from being able to open it again. 

“I’m fine.”

His forehead came to rest on your knee where he knelt in front of you, a heavy sigh rounding his shoulders. 

“Mesh’la….”

“Will you just look at it, you overgrown Tin Can?” You couldn’t help the amusement coloring your tone.

Din lifted his head to look up at you. “I did. It’s-” Turning his gaze down to the small tear in your pants from the blaster bolt, he realized the wound was no longer red and angry, no longer open, but neatly mended skin, fresh and healed. “….gone. It’s gone.” Pulling his visor back up toward your face, tilted slightly in question, you shook your head in answer before looking down at Grogu, smile widening slightly.

Looking between the two of you, Grogu let out an unimpressed grunt before he climbed up onto the control panel at your side, scrambling over your lap and arm of your chair in the process.

Whispers began to circle you, faint and indecisive. You looked down to the hilt of your saber accusingly, but it sat quiet, contentedly on your hip almost as if the kyber was sleeping. The voices surged, making you inhale sharply through your nose to try and not draw attention to yourself, when you realized they were coming from the saber in Din’s hand.

Standing near the front of the bridge, Din gave one of his signature sighs as he turned his attention from the Moff, extending the saber with one hand. He was offering it to Bo-Katan. “And now it belongs to her.”

We belong to no one, the voices surged again, clear as the smirk on Moff Gideon’s face as he watched the exchange between beskar warriors.

Unlike back in the hallway, it wasn’t just a singular voice, it was many. It was different. But there wasn’t time to sit and dwell on the variances between the voices in your head. Shaking your head gently, you focused back on the whispers currently curling into your mind.

They weren’t modulated, but you felt as if the voices belonged to those of Mandalorians past, as if the blade spoke for Mandalore. And in a way, you guess it did. If it had chosen the Mandalorian people, that kyber spoke for a nation. Suddenly it made the taunting voice of your own blade seem small. Insignificant.

Your kyber didn’t like that, didn’t like being pushed to the side, being made to feel small, and started to hum, the vibrations filling your mind with an annoying frequency you couldn’t shake.

It spoke for Mandalorians.

So why was it speaking to you?

Before you fully registered what you were doing, you found your feet had carried you closer to the Moff, something in his demeanor not sitting quite right in the back of your mind. This was too easy. 

The pull of the Darksaber drew you further in, its gentle ebb and flow of energy washing softly over you like cresting waves. It was every bit like Mandalorians, at least the ones you knew. Rough around the edges, intimidating and brilliant. But its aura was also soft, and somewhat inviting if you knew where to look. Underneath the rough exterior and harsh lines it offered a warmth unlike any other…. Like a certain beskar clad bounty hunter you knew.

No voices came anymore, but the hum morphed into a steady pulse, almost like a heartbeat, the higher pitch of your purple kyber beating in tandem with the low thrum of the dark blade.

The hum faded slightly to the background as an alarm started blaring at one of the stations, pulling all eyes over toward the sound.

“The ray shields have been breached. We’re being boarded,” Fennec said, going over to the console and disengaging the alarm, her eyes wide on the screen.

“How many life forms?” Bo-Katan asked, walking toward the station.

No matter how far you reached out, you didn’t feel any life forms beyond this ship. And that thought made your gut sink. “None,” you mumbled to yourself.

Fennec turned to the group, swallowing roughly. “None.”

Everyone sprung into action, the slap of footsteps on the deck echoing in your head. The hollow thud thud thud of each boot fall ricocheting in your ears made it seem like the space was spinning slowly. 

Din picked up Grogu and set him on the floor by the nearest console, leaning up against its side. “Don’t worry, kid. We’re gonna get you out of here.”

The air was tense as everyone stood in silence once they’d reached their positions. It sounded strange when Fennec called out an order. “Seal the blast doors.” Her voice a stark contrast to the low drone of the ship.

All eyes were on the door once you pressed the button and the extra layer slipped between you and the dark troopers. It was only a matter of time before- 

Then Koska said what you’d all been dreading. “They’re here.” Glancing at the small screen, she turned back toward the door, lifting her blaster higher.

It was odd to know an enemy awaited you so closely and yet you could sense nothing. Not a flicker, or a spark, or a-

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The metal door moaned under the pressure, and began to crumple in the center from the repeated strikes of the dark troopers’ fists. 

Blow after blow, the durasteel bent further, nearly separating in the center to reveal your enemy on the other side. 

Every pair of feet shifted nervously, trigger fingers twitched with each thud. 

You saw Cara toss her head to the side slightly, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before they flew back open as she rolled her shoulders back.

Bo-Katan held two blasters up at the ready, and for all accounts seemed steady. But you saw the shallow breaths she was taking. You knew how to read the body beneath the beskar.

No one in here thought they were walking out. 

At least, not all of you.

There has to be a way, you thought, turning toward Gideon. 

He was grinning.

“Make them stop,” you ordered gruffly, never lowering your blaster from its aim at the door.

As Gideon began to laugh, you made a split second decision and turned your blaster on him, switching it to stun mode. But he didn’t know that, you just wanted him to hear the whir of the mechanics as it came to life, a very clear threat to make him sweat.

The Moff surveyed the team surrounding himself and the Mandalorian, all weapons besides your own drawn and pointed at the doors as the constant thud thud thud of the dark troopers banged against the durasteel. But he only smiled wider as he looked at the crumpling steel, then at Din pointedly, completely ignoring you. “You have an impressive fire team protecting you. But I think we all know, after a valiant stand, everyone in this room will be dead…. but me…. and the child.” His eyes landed on you again, and it seemed like something went unsaid, but you didn’t get the chance to press him on it.

Rolling your eyes, you glared at him. “Can someone please shut him up?” 

An alarm began to beep from one of the consoles, a ship through the viewport catching your eye. 

Koska went over to turn off the alert. “An X-wing.”

Letting out a huff, Cara adjusted the rifle braced on her shoulder. “One X-wing? Great. We’re saved.”

After closing the distance between herself and another console, Bo-Katan pressed a button and spoke into the built in comm. “Incoming craft, identify yourself.”

Grogu had perked up the moment the ship had flown by, and it had made your spine straighten, too. When his tiny eyes met yours across the room, you smiled softly, lowering your blaster before switching it to safety and holstering it once again. 

Nodding to the child, you both tilted your head almost as if you heard something and smiled a bit more broadly. “I feel it, too, kid.”

Fennec spoke quietly, her voice a mixture of hope, but also wariness. “Why did they stop?”

That’s when you realized the steady thump thump thump of the dark troopers had gone silent. A glance at the screen on one of the consoles showed they all stood facing away from the door. They were ready. Waiting. 

Din looked at you, hands on your hips easily as you held the kids' gaze, then at Grogu, his large eyes blinking slowly but wide and alert as he looked up at you, and Din realized you both were completely at ease. Then he turned to Gideon, holstering his own blaster. 

Seeing the Mandalorian put down his weapons after a cue from a bartender and a baby, you couldn’t help the grin on your face as you looked down at the Moff, your voice quiet. “It’s over.”

Gideon scoffed. “It’s one X-wing.”

Taking a step closer, you shook your head, your voice a tad firmer. “It’s done.”

Bo-Katan lowered her blasters as she went to the console with the screen. She watched in silence as a lone figure emerged from the X-wing, ignited a saber and began to clear out the dark troopers. “A Jedi?”

The smugness melted off of Gideon’s face, and it made something in your chest pull tight in satisfaction. “What’s the plan now, Moff? Didn’t plan for a laser sword?”

Gideon hummed in thought. “Didn't account for two….”

Turning your attention back on the now silent door, everything seemed to stretch out. Time elongated, a second was like a minute, the space in front of you once only feet suddenly looked like miles. Nothing looked right, everything felt off, and you realized you heard absolutely nothing at all. No chatter, no alarms, no calming breaths as one of your friends stabilized their blasters.

Something was about to happen. 

The voices and the hum surged once again, tumbling back into your consciousness along with every other sound from the deck. They began to spread out, time almost seeming to slow further with them, and a low thrum filled the space in between. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and everything in your body told you to turn back around and face Gideon.

Turning as fast as you could, but what seemed so slowly, like you were moving through water, you saw the Moff pull a blaster and fire off a few shots at Bo-Katan, bolts of light ricocheting off her beskar left and right before she fell to the ground.

Reaching out, you sensed she wasn’t injured, so you kept eyes on the Moff, everything slowing down further as he turned to take aim at Grogu. 

But this time it was different. While everything else slowed, it was like you were moving incredibly fast.

You could sense the intent of the others before they acted, so you knew Din was going to dive in front of the kid to block the bolts with his armor, Cara was going to disarm him, and Fennec would make sure he didn’t move with the end of her blaster aimed strategically at him.

The scene resumed normal speed to your mind, everyone playing their part to a T. Din slid in front of the kid, shots bouncing off his armor, and every set of eyes on the deck was aimed at the Moff as he froze, blaster still pointed toward Din.

“Drop it!” Fennec barked, her rifle whirring to life as she took aim, Koska and Cara following suit.

After a quick glance around, Gideon pushed the barrel of the blaster up under his chin.

“Oh no you don’t,” you muttered, starting forward.

But before he could pull the trigger, Cara had knocked it out of his hands with the butt of her rifle, then whacked him in the face for good measure.

Moving faster than the air around you, you were at his side, towering over him with your saber drawn. Tip of the blade at his throat in seconds, you let out a long breath as all the voices and hums silenced themselves at once.

“Did you account for three?”

As soon as you ignited the blade, all the chitter and humming stopped. The quiet drone of the ship flying through space and the beep of consoles sounded so much louder than before as you focused on the tight expression of the Moff.

Gideon glanced at you down the length of the blade, fear in his eyes, but also something cocky. “Just as I thought,” he mumbled.

Before you could ask what in the hell he meant, the kid cooed near the screen displaying the rogue Jedi clearing out the ship, pulling your attention away for just a moment. It was such a relief to have him back in your line of sight again, you almost forgot about the villain at your feet. Almost.

Gideon continued to stare at you, the smirk on his face crawling ever higher, while the amusement in his eyes unnerved you.

“What?” You muttered lowly, trying not to draw the attention of everyone in the party to what felt like a private conversation.

The smirk melted into a broad grin, which in turn pulled your brows further together in question.

“Nothing. I’ve just had a realization, is all,” the Moff mused. “When all of this is over, and the dark troopers have left me the only one standing…. Perhaps I can be convinced to include you in the deal, as well.”

Your eyes narrowed to slits, the end of your saber getting just enough closer to his skin that any facial hairs would shrivel away from the heat. It followed him up as Gideon got back to his feet with a groan, Din stepping in to make sure the binders around his wrists were fastened extra tight. 

“You still think this is going to go your way?” Grip adjusting on the hilt of your saber, fingers stretching then tightening into a sturdier hold, you grinned as the Moff glanced down at the purple blade and swallowed tightly.  Letting out a huff of air, you held his gaze once it pulled back up to yours. “Fine. I’ll play. And why would I want that?”

Despite his nerves, his grin took a wicked turn. “You seem the type to be on the winning side.”

In a matter of moments you’d disengaged your saber, and closed the few steps left between you. A quick jab of your elbow to his chest knocked the wind out of him, then you flipped it in your hand to jam the butt of the hilt against Gideon’s temple, knocking him to the ground; the toe of your boot landed a swift kick near his spine, squarely to his left kidney to keep him down as he tried to scramble back up.

“You’re right,” you said plainly, looking down at him as the rest of the deck looked on in silence. “I am on the winning side.” Leaning down closer toward his face, you enjoyed how he shrunk away slightly. “It’s just not yours.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” he grumbled, trying to get back upright. Struggling with his bound hands, his cape twisted over his shoulder obstructed his view, which only got worse as he tried to bat it away with his joined palms. The press of Fennec’s rifle into his spine made him still, his eyes fluttering shut as he let out a defeated huff through his nose.

You stayed close to his face, a smug smile turning up your features. “Jokes on you, Moff. I’m not sure of anything.”

Din sighed heavily off to your left, and you could just make out his head shaking in your peripherals, hand cradling his forehead as it continued to rock back and forth.

“Well I am,” Cara said calmly. “And we’re all gonna die if we don’t come up with a plan to fight these walking gear boxes.”

“We don’t need a plan, Cara. It’s being taken care of.” You pointed to the screen.

“One X-wing?” She scoffed. “You’ll forgive me if I have trouble believing that.” Her weight shifted to one side. “We need any ideas to beat these-”

“You can’t,” Gideon laughed. He turned to the side and spit out a mouthful of blood from when Cara had bashed him with her rifle. When he smiled, his teeth were covered in streaks of red, making his threat all the more menacing. He turned to look at Din pointedly. “You had your hands full with one…. Let’s see how you do against a platoon.”

You’d never seen Mandalorians look uneasy, but as you glanced around the deck, every set of beskar was shifting their weight side to side uncomfortably, sharing looks you didn’t like the sound of.

Turning back toward the screen, a sneer started up your face. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Moff, but it looks like you’re a few droids short of a platoon.”

Gideon was suddenly at your ear, but still on the floor at your feet. His words mumbled into his shoulder somehow reached you as if he was right next to you. “I’m trying not to take this personally, girl, but you need to make a choice. All of your friends are about to die. You can either join them, or join me. The kid and yourself would be safe…. Well looked after. I’d just…. Need a small donation of blood from time to time.”

Your eyes widened as you looked down at him. Meeting his gaze, he smirked.

“In the scheme of things, it’s a small price to pay.”

You jerked him up with an unseen force, holding him nearly nose to nose as you gripped your hands in the front of his cape to pull him down to your eye level. Every blaster in the room whirled to aim at the two of you, the whirr of charging mechanics filling the bridge. “The only price I’m willing to pay, Moff, is you at the end of a rope.” 

The man only blinked at you. You saw red.

Your hands clenched his cape so tightly you were surprised you didn’t hear the sound of stitches ripping under the pressure. Tugging him further down, you made him meet you eye to eye. “Now leave my friends and my family alone, you ass.” With a good shove, you pushed him backwards into Cara’s waiting grasp. “Usen'ye, shabuir.” (“Go away, fucker.”)

“The Mando’a language always fascinated me,” he mused, holding your gaze as he taunted. “So many words for such a stoic people. Too bad it’s dying out just like its speakers….”

You were closing the distance between you in an instant. “Ib'tuur jatne tuur gar kyr'amur.” (“Today is a good day for you to die.”)

Din stepped forward, catching your arm with his hand and stopped you short.

Gideon was grinning like a fool. “That’s not a good way to treat someone offering you an out….”

“You’re not offering me an out. You’re offering me a prison.”

“I’m offering you a way to walk off of this ship.”

Wrestling your arm free from Din’s hold - it wasn’t hard, he didn’t put up much resistance - you closed the final step between Gideon and yourself, toe to toe with him in an instant. Without hesitation you dropped to your haunches, extending one leg and spun. Swiping your leg under his, you dropped him back down to the floor with a thump.

Back on your feet faster than anyone could blink, you stared down at the floundering Imperial. “Sorry. Can’t offer you the same courtesy.” You shrugged. “Ni'duraa.” (“I look down on you.”)

Gideon huffed through his nose in annoyance, glaring up at you, but his voice remained calm, and somehow that was worse. “There was a time there was honor among Jedi.” He rolled from his side onto his back, propped up on his elbows.

“I am no Jedi.”

He nodded once, eyes staring across the bridge in thought. “And what of the Mandalorian Creed, where is your honor from that?” Gideons eyes landed back on yours, something in them sparking like he thought he’d won. Like a tooka with a scurrier.

“I am not Mandalorian.”

The Moff’s face crumpled in frustration, and he let out a huff. “Then what-”

You’d had enough. Taking a step closer so the tips of your boots touched the soles of his, you straightened your spine as you glowered down at him. You felt all the other bodies in the room shifting closer to you, whether for support or back up, you didn’t know, but it was appreciated all the same. Closest on your left was Din, the glint of beskar coming into your peripheral and causing the side of your mouth to twitch up. He was just close enough that his upper arm brushed yours. And you knew it was his way of saying “I’m here” without having to say a word.

“No matter what I am, you do not deserve my honor, Gideon. You deserve less than my absolute worst. You tried to destroy my home. You tried to tear apart my family and took my son. You’ve had a bounty on my head for months, and tried to get me killed time and time again. Not to mention whatever sick and twisted things happened in that base back on Nevarro…. I could go on, but you’re not worth the air it’d take to say it all. You deserve less. Less than the least I can give.”

Gideon smirked. “Passionate words for someone proclaiming to care so little.”

This time you smirked, and it made his falter. “That’s the problem. I care too much. But you don’t deserve any of it. I won’t let you. You’ve stolen enough from me. That ends now.”

“And she’s a bartender,” Fennec leaned in to say. “That above all is what matters most in my book.”

Turning your gaze up to look at your friend, brows arched as you shook your head good naturedly, you let your weight shift to one side. “You just want that drink I owe you.”

She shrugged, a smirk working its way up her face now. It seemed to be contagious. “Wouldn’t say no….”

Grogu cooed, resting his hand on the screen as the Jedi waded through the dark troopers as if they were nothing. Quietly moving to stand behind him, you placed your hand on his back gently, rubbing it in soothing circles as you lowered to your haunches to be on his level. “Yeah. I know. I feel it too, kid.”

Din was perched on one knee in front of the console, just to your left. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost sad. “Is it….”

You nodded, eyes never leaving the child. “One of the good ones, Din.”

He hesitated, his head tilting to the side as he looked at his ward. “So Grogu would be safe?”

The quiet warble in his voice pulled your gaze to his visor briefly, but just like always, the hard steel gave nothing away he didn’t want it to.

You looked back at the kid, hand coming up to rub the back of his tiny head. “He’d be with his own kind.” Bringing your hand back down to rest on his small back, you resumed the soothing circles before you stilled, staring at the screen. 

You were looking at the one who would take the kid away from you. After everything you’d just done to get him back. He was here. In your hands, your clan was complete and now it was about to be…. He was going to….

After your thumb traced absent patterns against his tiny, scratchy robes, you let your hand fall back to your lap, clutched tightly in your other.

Din’s visor turned back to you. “That’s not what I asked.” He sounded like he understood, but he also sounded confused, which made you smile softly. That was normal for this subject matter. 

Keeping your eyes on Grogu, you nodded once again, your voice every bit as soft as Din’s had been. “He’d finally get the training he needs. That he deserves.”

Din sighed heavily, his weight shifting slightly. “Mesh’la….” The one leg came up, and he rocked back on his heels so he was crouched beside you.

You continued. “Green sabers are consulars. They are wise. Think things through. This one should make a fine teacher if they adhere to any of the old ways-”

Din’s hand came to rest on yours still clutched tightly in your lap, his voice low in understanding. “Mesh’la, that’s not what I asked.”

Lifting your eyes from where they fell to study his hand on yours, you looked at Din as a sad smile twisted up the side of your face. “I know.” Swallowing roughly, you blinked back tears as you turned back to Grogu. The child was easier to face, yet your heart broke a little bit more each time you saw him. When you spoke again, your voice was barely more than a whisper. “But that’s the only answer I have to give.”

The Jedi was at the door now, taking out the last of the droids, while you and Din shared a long, loaded look over the top of Grogu’s head.

Once everything fell silent, Din turned his gaze down onto the child for a moment, his shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Din got to his feet, scooping up the kid, and turned toward the front of the bridge. “Open the doors.”

When no one moved, he strode calmly toward the entrance, setting Grogu down on the console you’d been sitting in front of when he’d come in. “I said, open the doors.”

Fennec slightly rolled her head in disbelief. “Are you crazy?”

Din pushed the proper button on the console, and the doors hissed open, revealing a shadowy figure in a cloud of smoke that had a green tint and the soft hum of a saber.

My dream…. You blinked rapidly as flashes of your dream on Boba’s ship replaced the scene in front of you, and they were so close it was hard to distinguish one from the other. It hadn’t been a dream. It was a vision. But then if…. The fight outside the cantina. That meant…. What else had you seen? As the saber disengaged you remembered in a flash reaching for the shadow of the child and he had turned to smoke through your fingers. Gone.

Turning to look at Grogu, you knew where this was going, and your gut sank down to the lower decks below your feet. You knew from the moment you saw the X-wing, if you were being honest, had felt it like the kid had, but…. You could hope, couldn’t you?

The figure emerged from the smoke, tossing their hood back, and suddenly having a form instead of a shadow made this all too real.

You’d just gotten him back.

And now he was about to leave again.

This wasn’t fair.

The hood now pulled back, you saw a young man about your age, blonde somewhat unkempt hair, and kind eyes that seemed to see right through you. It was hard to tell, but the longer you stared, it seemed like he had scars on his face, and curiosity from your days behind the bar nearly got the better of you to ask where they came from. His entire aura was kind and peaceful, a good match for Grogu, but something underneath hinted at something…. haunted. He was plagued by something bigger than him, something he could never shake…. But it seemed to have made him stronger.

Din stepped forward. “Are you a Jedi?” You couldn’t blame him. He’d defaulted into protective father mode. He was just making sure the child would be safe. 

“I am.” The Jedi extended a hand toward Grogu as he peeked around the chair in front of the console Din had set him on. “Come, little one.”

Din hesitated. “He doesn’t want to go with you.” He almost sounded hopeful, and that was nearly as heartbreaking as what you knew was coming.

“He wants your permission,” the Jedi corrected softly. “He is strong with the Force, but talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect the child…. but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.”

Din turned to look at you over his shoulder, and it was all you could do to nod in confirmation. He turned back toward Grogu and went to get him out of the chair.

While Din stooped to pick up the child, suddenly a voice filled your mind. “And what about you, young one? Are you not coming, too?” Lifting your eyes to meet the Jedi’s you saw him focusing on the man in beskar and his tiny ward, only shooting you a fleeting glance before looking away yet again. “I sensed another. I know it’s you. You’re strong with the ways of the Force, like your little friend here. But I also sense much fear, much turmoil in you…. Without training, that will only fester and grow into something I fear you will not be able to contain.”

Shaking your head almost imperceptibly, you reached out into his mind, smiling softly in satisfaction when his eyes met yours briefly in surprise. “Thank you for your concern, Master, but I’ve made it this far on my own. The Force hasn’t abandoned me yet.”

Making your way over to stand at Din’s side, one hand resting on his pauldron to stabilize yourself, you smiled down at Grogu softly. Glancing at the Jedi out of the corner of your eye, you saw him looking at you.

The Jedi returned the smile. “Call me Luke. And it isn’t fear of abandonment that concerns me. It’s the opposite, actually. I fear it will overwhelm you, twist you into something you hardly recognize.”

Din held Grogu in front of him so that they were able to look at one another. His voice was soft and heavily affected, but you could tell he was trying to be strong. “Hey, go on. That’s who you belong with. He’s one of your kind.”

Glancing up at Din, you smiled softly before it quickly melted back towards a frown, your eyes falling back onto the child.

“I’ll see you again.” His voice was broken. “I promise.”

The kid reached up, placing his hand on the right side of Din’s helmet as he blinked his big eyes slowly. You had to look down at the ground to collect yourself. It was easy to forget Grogu was actually older than everyone on this ship until he did something like this, and let a little bit of that wisdom of his years shine through in his eyes. He may not be able to speak yet, but his eyes spoke volumes.

As he looked at Din, words surrounded you.

I see you. I know you. I love you. Thank you. I’m going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. Take care of each other. And something along the lines of Don’t forget to tell Peli I’ll miss her.

You opened your mouth to tell Din everything the kid was saying, but Grogu must have done you one better and passed it on to you both, because after a moment of stuttered breathing, Din reached up and removed his helmet.

Mouth snapping shut, your eyes immediately fell to his chest plate, wide before you blinked back tears. Then they returned to Grogu, a sense of calm washing over you once again.

You kept your eyes on the kid, not daring to look up at Din’s face, his cape clutched tightly in your right hand as your left cradled Grogu’s back. “As long as I have this, I’m not too worried about that.”

“That’s what worries me.” Your eyes pulled to Luke’s in question. “Things change.”

Eyes back on the child, you smiled as he peered up at you with a soft coo. “Some don’t.”

Grogu reached out toward the Mandalorian once again, his small hand touching the side of his cheek that no longer bore a helmet.

While you wouldn’t pull your eyes up to see the look on Din’s face, you felt everything you needed to. The room surged with love and calm, peace…. But also a great deal of sadness and longing. The mix was coming from both of them.

This was exactly what the kid needed, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Din called him his son around you once or twice, as did you, but you knew deep down he struggled with the technicalities of that relationship. Their bond was something deeper, more than just father and son, and he knew that. But Din was nowhere close to admitting that yet, and you couldn’t tell if it was that that hurt him more, or the impending absence of the child.

Either way, it swelled low in his gut, simmering in the background as he put on a brave face for his tiny ward.

“All right, pal. It’s time to go.” Grogu whined softly, his ears drooping down toward his shoulders as he peered up at Din. “Don’t be afraid.”

You felt Din’s eyes land on you, the child’s following shortly after. As you peered down into his big wide eyes, tears began to brim in your own. Reaching out and tracing the line of his ear with your finger, pinching the end lightly when you got there, you brought your finger to his small clawed hand, smiling and letting out a breath when he grasped it tightly. With a shaky inhale, you repeated the words you’d said when you thought he was staying with Ahsoka, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I would run for my life a thousand times over if it meant I got to know you again.”

Din lowered to his haunches, setting Grogu on the floor before rising back to his full height. You half expected to see him jerk his head toward the Jedi to motion the kid across, but he just looked at Luke, then down at Grogu, his head tilting slightly as the child clung to his boot and gazed up at him. 

It was a wonder you saw anything as he moved in your peripherals, tears blurring your vision as you stared down at the kid. 

Grogu’s soft babbles filled the cabin, making your heart hurt just as much as the Mandalorian’s responding silence.

The beeps of an astromech droid came from behind the Jedi, pulling Grogu’s attention away from his caretaker, and you let out a soft breath in relief. Din’s hand found its way into your left hand, clutching it tightly while your right still grasped at his cape to keep you upright.

“Last chance, young one,” Luke’s voice drifted into your mind once again. Looking at him, he didn’t even look at you, he watched Grogu and the droid, nodding to the Mandalorian after a moment. Once Grogu ambled over toward the Droid who bleeped and blooped at him, Luke stooped down to pick up the child, lifting back to his full height. Finally, he met your gaze.

“My answer is the same.” You squeezed Din’s hand.

Standing beside him, just slightly behind, you clutched his cape tightly in your hand to ground yourself. His hair in your peripherals was dark, curly, a mess atop his head you wanted to reach up and shuffle into submission.

You kept your eyes straight ahead on the kid in the arms of the Jedi, not allowing yourself to be the reason he broke his Creed. Technically he’d already broken it, removing his helmet for Grogu, but that didn’t mean anyone else could just walk up and stare. No matter how badly you wanted to.

He turned his head just slightly and you saw the dusting of facial hair out of the corner of your eye, grays mixed in with the dark. It suited him.

“Be careful, then.” Your eyes flicked back up to meet Luke’s as he continued. “Be mindful. I fear for the turmoil I see twisting away in you….”

With a small nod of his head, Luke held Din’s gaze once again. “May the Force be with you.” The Jedi’s eyes fell to yours briefly before landing back on the child. “Beware your attachments, young one. They can be your downfall. Even the best Jedi have fallen because of them.”

“You sound like a friend of mine….”

He turned to walk away with Grogu, but not before you caught the smirk starting up his face. “They sound wise.”

“She is. A Jedi herself, actually. Or used to be. Ahsoka Tano, taught me how to jump-” You shook your head. “It’s not important.” You huffed, shaking your head again when you saw Din turn to look at you out of the corner of your eye. “I meant she talks in riddles.” 

“Every great Jedi does.”

“So I’m learning.” You grinned. Looking into Grogu’s eyes one more time as you waited for the door to close, you winked at him, a soft grin pulling up your face. “Goodbye, kid. Don’t eat all the frogs.” He blinked at you with a gentle huff. “Be good.”

You could swear he smiled gently as he tilted his head to the side. He knew what you meant. Be good, yes, don’t cause trouble, but also be good, do your best. Show them what you’ve got.

Images of that first dream the two of you shared flashed through your mind. In the Temple where you covered him, your shadow giving him hope in a dark time, the vision giving you hope on your own difficult days.

“Kar'taylir darasuum. I’ll always love you. I have since before we met, ad’ika.” (“To know in the heart forever.”)

Din lifted his chin in acknowledgment toward the child, the motion blurring in your peripherals through unshed tears right before the elevator slid closed.

You hesitated, taking in a sharp breath before whispering one last word through the Force. “Goodbye.”

As the elevator at the end of the hallway closed, shutting off the last chapter of his story, Din let out a sigh.

Repeating your words from earlier when you first sensed Grogu on the cruiser, they now felt hollow somewhere deep in your chest as you sensed him drifting further away. “He’s going to be okay.” Silence hung heavy in the air, filling the void in your heart with cold, vacant fingers that gripped it tight. “We’re going to be okay.”

Din nodded once, the motion stilted in your peripherals, his voice quiet. “I know.”

Darting your eyes down to his helmet on the floor, you bent down and picked it up, gripping the cool beskar tightly as you stared down at it, careful to not look at his reflection on its shiny surface as he turned toward you.

The rest of the party shuffled out of the bridge, Cara dragging a mumbling Gideon with her. You tried to look at him, but Din’s hand on your chin pulled you back toward him before you could. Swallowing roughly, you stared at his chest piece, blinking once, twice before Bo-Katan’s voice made you let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I’ve programmed the ship to land on- Well, that’s not important. Our temporary base of operations until we take back Mandalore. Things are about to change now that you have the Darksaber. We….” She sighed. “We should talk.” After a moment of silence, she started walking out of the room. “We’ll be back on the transport. Meet us there when you’re ready to head…. Wherever it is you’re headed.”

The door slid closed after her, leaving the two of you alone in the bridge, surrounded by silence, aside from a few beeping panels as the ship slipped through space.

You could feel Din’s eyes on you, his hand still gently under your chin as he tried to tip your head back to look up at him.

Shutting your eyes quickly as he angled your head back, you kept them closed tightly, extending his helmet toward him. “Here.”

The weight of the helmet was removed from your hands wordlessly, before you heard the thud of it resting on the floor again, your eyebrow cocking in question. 

Your breath caught in your chest when his own warm breaths fanned across your face, dangerously close to where you’d thought about him being too many times. Out of instinct your hands wound up into his cowl to pull him the last few inches closer until you were basically one being, every bit of him a part of every bit of you.

Continuing up around his neck, your hands tentatively curled up into his hair, threading through the mess and earning a heavy sigh against your face, his forehead falling against yours softly.

Unable to help yourself, your hands continued exploring, pulling forward onto his face, mapping his features under your fingertips. Holding his cheeks in your hands, you smiled, a soft laugh of relief breaking through before suddenly the distance disappeared and his lips were on yours.

It was tentative and chaste, every bit what a first kiss usually is, but conveyed so much more than you expected, making your breath stop altogether. 

Pulling apart tentatively, lips still ghosting over one another’s, something passed in the silence, an unspoken understanding, before you both surged forward into a deeper kiss, letting it say everything that needed to be said. Everything that was being felt, every burden and elation. The sadness and relief. The complete and utter peace. It was consuming and yet not enough all at once.

Separating just enough to keep your foreheads joined, you took a deep, shaking breath, swallowing roughly as you kept your eyes closed tight, a smile beginning to twist its way back up your face. Still cradling his cheeks, his hands on your hips kept you held close, his thumbs tracing lazily back and forth.

He speaks, and your world stops. Your breathing turns rapid, your heart is about to climb out of your chest, and your stomach twists in some weightless way.

“Open your eyes, mesh’la.”

You’d heard his voice unmodulated many times, but for some reason, this time it caught you off guard, and you couldn’t find the words to respond. 

You pulled away just a bit, mouth opening and closing but nothing came out. Your eyebrows narrowed in confusion, eyes still tightly closed.

Din reached up and put his gloved hands over yours on his face gently, pressing them down, threading his fingers through yours and clutching them tightly, the leather of his gloves creaking as he did. He spoke quietly, his voice nearly a whisper as he said it again, almost pleadingly.

“Open your eyes.”

Xxx

Tags to come!

[twothpaste]

earthbound old man tier list

S Tier: Doctor Andonuts. idc what anyone says, he is a fascinating bewilderful tragic morally dubious rubiks cube of a character, and if i think about him for longer than 10 seconds i get so emo i wanna dye my hair black and run away into the woods. he is also very funny. i would squash him like putty.

A Tier: Wess. mother 3 wouldn't be mother 3 without Wess and i'm not kidding. i love how he is written as both a terrifying abusive father and also a genuinely wise antifa ally, the duality of humanity or whatever. a bunch of his lines still give me chills to this day. especially [ this one ]

Leder as well. absolute fucking real one. imagine taking a vow of silence for the rest of your life to protect your beloved community, none of whom even can remember the sacrifices you've made for them, singlehandedly bearing a lifetime of unfathomable trauma to spare them theirs. he is atlas with the planet earth on his shoulders. yet another character who turns my brains into spaghetti-os.

B Tier: George is one of the most intriguing characters in the series. Boy, I wish Itoi took the time to actually Write him!!! so many questions, so little canon material, but my imagination does drive me a bit to madness with this guy I fear.

C Tier: the fuck do you mean Geldegarde Monotoli was super wicked evil under Giygas' influence, kidnapped Paula, took over Cartoon New York with sheer capitalist ruthlessness - then as soon as you break the Mani Mani statue he's like -tiny bichon frise sneeze- "ouuugghhh goodness gracious i'm so sorry, i don't know what came over me, i am so harmless and frail and made of pudding also" -little pekingese cough- and Paula is like "don't worry ness 👧 he was just a sweet old man all along lol!!!" nvm it's pretty funny actually

Grandpa Alec goes in C Tier too. imo he's well written in chapter 1. his reaction to grief feels really off-kilter in a strangely human & believable way, like?? he is snapping at Lucas and immediately feeling remorse, cracking jokes to try and assure Flint (and himself) everything is ok when it clearly isn't, kooky silly and also unsettling at the same time. i think people forget that he's also a messy clumsy maladjusted grieving dad, just like Flint. but after chapter 1 he kinda falls off, doesn't have much interesting to say or add to the story. i find myself kinda wishing Lucas had a closer relationship to his grandpa implied post-timeskip… oh well.

is Jonel old? his sprite doesn't look ancient but considering his attitude & his adult kids I imagine him to be in his 60's probably. i like that he's a bit of an asshole, and his moment at the prayer sanctuary implies a religious aspect to the village that's super intriguing… iirc he has a line all the way in New Pork where he trash talks Flint for still holding out hope & tryin to find Claus, and it's like?? damn, Jonel, a cunt to the bitter end!! gotta love that.

likewise Mayor Pusher is one of those Tazmily villagers who really highlights how fake & callous some of these people can be. i love the part toward the end of chapter 7 where he blabbers about how much he hates this hick town and he's so eager to leave already, and when he catches Lucas eavesdropping iirc he's rude as ever to him. what a douchebag! no wonder his son is so depressed ❤️

Nippolyte is a benign real one and I like him, even though there's not much to him.

wish Scamp did or said literally anything of note before dying. oh well

D Tier: yeah fuck Mr. Carpainter though. i don't believe for a second he was solely driven to become a cult leader by alien brainwashing alone, dude's gonna be on some MLM shit within a year mark my words

??? Tier: i don't consider Mother 3 Porky an old man, i consider him Very a forever thirteen year old trapped in a sickly grotesque disproportionaltely aging body. but if you do consider him an old man, he's in the stratosphere tier blowing up the moon

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Nameless, Faceless: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Summary: Not even four hours after the case in Canada, you're thrown into another one. This time, without Hotch. You have a sinking feeling he's not just blowing you off to get some sleep. There's something wrong.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Author’s Note: welcome to the first episode of season 5! i hope you enjoy this series just as much as i loved writing it! <3

I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

x

They're all concerned about Spencer but even more concerned about Hotch and whether he's going to survive or not. They rush him to the same hospital that Hotch is in to keep them both in the same area. You've been by Hotch's side the whole time and he hasn't woken up yet. You rub your hands together nervously and look to the left of you to see your team fast-walk down the hallway.

"Hey, he's still not conscious."

"Are you sure it was Foyet?" Rossi asks.

"I felt his energy at Hotch's place. I saw what happened. Hotch lost a lot of blood but he's been stable since I arrived. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to be distracted. Plus, he was checked in with Derek's credentials that he stole the last time we saw him."

"Did they catch him on the security camera?"

"I saw him drop Hotch off but the camera is only at the entrance. I got a feel of the direction he went in but I lost him right outside the parking lot. I don't know where he is."

"It doesn't make sense for him to have brought Hotch to the ER. We know Foyet gets off on power and control. Maybe what he wants is for Hotch to know his life was in his hands."

"He could do that without risking the hospital," Derek says.

"What happened to Spencer? I heard a gunshot go off over the phone. Is he okay?"

"He was shot in the knee," JJ explains. "He's here getting treatment."

You want nothing more than to go to him but if he's still in surgery or getting care, you don't want to interrupt that. Hotch groans as he comes out of his mini coma-like state.

"Agents, he's waking up," the doctor says. "Remember, he's weak. Don't push him."

"Where am I?" Hotch whispers.

"In the hospital."

"How did I get here?"

"Foyet drove you. Can you remember what happened?" you ask gently.

Hotch stays silent for a moment. 

"What did he take?" Everyone looks at each other in confusion. "The Reaper always takes something from his victims. Do we know what he took?"

"There was a page missing from your day planner in the address section," you say. "The Bs."

"What did he leave?" he winces in pain.

"I don't know. I looked over your whole apartment. Nothing felt out of place."

"Where are my clothes?"

You grab the bag with his bloody clothes and other belongings and set them on his legs. You pull out the bloody shirt and open the bag for him to go through. He pulls out what looks like a wallet but is Derek's credentials. Folded inside is a picture of Hayley and Jack.

He's going after Hayley and Jack.

"Haley's maiden name is Brooks. I always listed her in the Bs in my personal information in case it fell into the wrong hands. He knows where they live," Hotch sighs.

"Don't worry, Hotch. We'll take care of it."

Everyone but Emily decides to leave the hospital in search of Hayley. You would have stayed behind but you're better in the field than by Hotch's side. Spencer is still getting treated so you have no business staying behind. JJ tries calling Hayley three times but she isn't answering.

"She's not answering."

Derek takes out his phone and calls Penelope.

"Garcia, I need FBI SWAT deployed to Hotch's old address."

"Oh, God, do you think he's going after Hayley and Jack?"

"I don't know. Just send a SWAT team. Tell them to wait for instructions. We're on our way."

"Consider them there."

"We need to be prepared for what we might find. Foyet kept Hotch alive. He wouldn't do that without a reason."

There's no time to speculate because Foyet could already be there murdering Hayley and Jack. When the team arrives at her house, SWAT is already there waiting. As soon as Derek gives the green light, SWAT members pile into the house with your team mixed in with them. Hayley is in the house, you can feel her. Foyet's energy is nowhere to be found which means you got to her before he could.

You walk upstairs with Derek and two other SWAT members. Hayley is in her room wearing yoga clothes, headphones are in her ears, and she is doing laundry. She turns to put clothes away and screams loudly from seeing a bunch of people in her house.

"Oh, my God!" she gasps.

"It's okay. It's okay," you calm her down.

"What are you all doing here?"

"We got her," Derek says to Emily who is on the phone with him.

"What's going on?"

"Is there anyone else in the house?" you ask.

"No, there's no one here."

"Where's Jack?"

"He's at a friend's house for a play date."

"We need to get him back here."

"Where's Aaron?"

"He's in the hospital."

"What?" she gasps.

"Hayley, call for Jack. Tell them I'm on the way to pick him up. I promise you we'll explain. Call for him right now. Text me the address," Derek says and leaves the room.

"Tell me what happened to Aaron," she says as she does what she's told.

"He was stabbed nine times presumably last night or early this morning. We know who did it and we're doing everything we can to try and find him. We think he's going after you and Jack next. I know this is a shock right now, but you need to pack a bag. You can't stay here right now. You two will be placed in the Witness Protection Program."

"Wait, are you serious right now?"

"Yes."

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes."

"For how long?"

"I don't know," Rossi answers.

Hayley knows she needs to listen to your team right now so she starts to pack a very large bag knowing she isn't going to come back here for a while. Derek and Jack come back ten minutes later, and he has the biggest smile on his face.

"Mommy! They let me turn on the siren!"

"Wow, that's so great, baby! Did you have fun?" Hayley smiles through the pain.

"I'll help start a bag in Jack's room," JJ says and leaves.

"Okay. How many times did you run it? How many times?" Jack holds up three fingers and she chuckles. "Three?"

As soon as Hayley and Jack are packed up and ready to go, you take her to the hospital so she can talk to Hotch. Rossi already made some calls to other agents about placing them into protective custody, so those agents meet you at the hospital. Jack is waiting with one of the agents so Hayley can speak to her ex-husband alone.

It sucks knowing their situation (minus the whole Foyet thing) because they didn't divorce because they stopped loving each other. They divorced because loving each other hurt them too much.

While you let them talk, you go find Spencer who is on the other side of the hospital. You grab some jello for him on your way and you keep it hidden behind your back to surprise him. He is trying to find something on the TV to watch when you knock on his door.

"Hey," he smiles brightly and turns off the TV.

"I can't leave you alone, can I?"

"How's Hotch?"

"Physically? He's going to be okay. Emotionally? Not so much. We have to place Hayley and Jack in protective custody, so they're talking right now before they leave." You walk over to his bed and sit on the edge of it. You reach up and move some of his hair out of his eyes. "You need a haircut." Spencer laughs and grabs your hand while it's still on his cheek. He moves your palm to his mouth and he kisses the center of your hand. You rub his cheekbone with your thumb while looking into his eyes with so much love. "I bought you something."

You take the jello out from behind your back and his eyes light up.

"Thanks!" He eats a few bites happily. "Good news is that all I need are some crutches for a while."

"Don't worry, I'm going to take good care of you."

"I know," he smiles.

If he's going to go through all this trouble to incriminate you, the least he can do is stick around to watch your downfall. The block in which he left his last victim is sectioned off with yellow police tape even though there is a large crowd forming around the perimeter. Several officers are located on the outside to keep the public from barging in, and he squeezes himself through the crowd to get to the front.

If this is going to work, he needs to know what the police know so he knows how to proceed from here.

"Excuse me, officer? What's going on here?" he asks.

He's masked his real voice with a fake southern accent he's been working on for weeks.

"There's been a murder. Everything is fine, sir."

"Officer, I walk down this street every day and night. Am I safe? I live right down the block."

"Where?"

"Right there."

The man points to the apartment building on the corner of the street.

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"No, sir."

The officer lifts the tape up so the man can step through so he's not stuck in the crowd. The officer doesn't take him to where the dead body is, but he wants some privacy from the onlookers.

"What's your name?"

The man doesn't hesitate to answer.

"Frank Livingston."

"What's a good phone number to reach you at?"

"619-555-0122."

"Where were you last night between the hours of ten and five in the morning?"

"Out here, unfortunately. I have a hard time sleeping ever since I had a stroke a few years ago. I decided to go for a walk to try and clear my head."

"Did you happen to see anything?"

"Well, let's see. I walked outside and had a cigarette." The man chuckles and pats his breast pocket where his pack of cigarettes is. "The dang things will kill ya but I can't seem to put it down." He chuckles. "Anyway, I was walkin' and I didn't know what time it was because I forgot my phone. I saw this car parked on the side of the road, and there was someone lyin' on the ground like they'd been hit. Seeing y'all here makes me think they might not have been hit after all."

"Anything else?" the officer asks and writes down everything he says.

"I saw someone leanin' against the car, but I didn't know what they were doing. The light isn't great out here. My eyes have gone bad since the stroke. It nearly took out my sight altogether. I'm not sure what they were doin' but I know I saw hair."

"Hair?"

"Long hair like a female's. I got out of there so fast like I was fearing for my life. You know females these days got everything goin' on. They carry all kinds of protective weapons on them. I didn't want to end up like that fella."

"Anything else you noticed?"

"Not that I can recall. Like I said, I got out of there quickly."

"Okay. If you can remember anything, please give me a call."

The officer hands over his business card with his contact information, and Frank takes it from him.

"Yes, sir, I will."

Frank walks away from the crime scene with the fake persona still on him. When he gets far enough away, he drops the innocent act with a smirk. He crumbles the officer's card and tosses it into a nearby trash can.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[ninetailedfoxmanchi]

Mafia! BTS - You're Pregnant and You Don't Want to Keep the Baby

Warnings: mention and discussion of abortion and menstruation, mostly fluff tho

A/N: I've been sick these past couple of days so I re-read some of my old fics. I left off the BTS series on more of a family note but I thought I'd like to write the alternative reaction too. I had no idea I'd be writing this or anything at all but it sort of hit me out of the blue. I hope you like this fic and feel free to send in some requests (no promises, as always). Also, apologies in advance because I didn't proof read.

NEW MASTERLIST

* * *

Jin

You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub, a positive pregnancy test in your hand. You were biting your lip, your chest heavy with anxiety and fear. Lost in thought and emotion, you had no idea how long you had been sitting there contemplating your decisions when suddenly Jin appeared in the bathroom doorway.

"Y/N, what's-" he began yet lost his words when he saw the pregnancy test at your feet. You were playing with your fingers, biting your lip without even raising your gaze to him.

"Are you pregnant?" asked Jin quietly as he knelt down before you and took your hands in his.

"I think so," you whispered as you nodded your head. "But..." you spoke although you did not know what to say or how to say it. “I don’t think I’m ready… I’ve been thinking… I don’t think I’ll ever be.”

"Ever be what, princess?"

"Ready to be a mom," you confessed. The words felt sour on your tongue. You've always been taught to want to be a mother but deep down you never felt the instinct yourself. Becoming a parent felt like a notion forced upon you and whilst you admired women capable of motherhood, you simply never saw yourself in that role.

You confessed all of that to Jin. He held your hand in both of his, his thumbs caressing the back of your palms as he listened to you.

"Alright," agreed Jin once you had finished. "I understand, princess." He kissed your forehead and caressed your cheek. "I would never force you to do anything you were uncomfortable with. You're my everything."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you heard Jin's warm, gentle voice. You nodded to yourself and could not help but start to cry.

"Oh, princess, it's going to be okay," said Jin and pulled you in his arms. You wrapped your hands around his neck and buried your nose in the nook of his collarbone.

"Are you sure you're not upset?" you asked.

"I told you," he said, pulling away to look you in the eye. "You're the most important thing in the world to me, princess. I want whatever you want," spoke Jin softly and brushed away the tears from your cheeks.

Namjoon

You visited your personal doctor having been under the weather for more than a week. You couldn't keep anything down, not even your favourite foods, you had to pee what seemed to be every five minutes and you were feeling sore all over your body. Namjoon wanted you to see a doctor days ago but you were avoiding going to a hospital. However, you made a deal that if you wouldn't feel better by the end of the week, you would go and here you were.

"It's probably nothing, let's just go home," you said fidgeting your knee as you squeezed on Namjoon's hand that was resting in your lap.

"We're not going anywhere, love," assured Namjoon, "Let's just wait for the results of your bloodwork and then I'll take you home." He kissed your temple as you leaned onto him. You were as pale as a ghost but then again you haven't been feeling like yourself for the past fortnight.

"Ms Y/N?" called the nurse. You and Namjoon both stood up.

"Your test results are back," said the nurse, a strange shimmer in her eye. "Congratiulations, you're going to be parents," she announced.

It can't be. I can't be.

Like the flip of a switch your head swirled with sickness. You tried to catch yourself by Namjoon's arm when suddenly you hit the ground and your vision went dark.

* *

You woke just moments later, lying on a gurney. A soft groan escaped your lips as you reached for your head and rubbed your eyes. The neon white lights blinded you before you blinked and regained your vision.

"Y/N? Y/N, can you hear me?" asked Namjoon, his voice deep with concern yet he tried to sound calm and collected.

"Joon?" you mumbled as you struggled to sit up.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, slowly," murmured your boyfriend as he helped you up. He brushed the hair from your face and kissed your forehead.

"I was so worried," he whispered against your skin.

"Is it... Is it true? Am I pregnant?" you asked grievously as your eyes filled with tears.

"The blood results say so, yes," confirmed Namjoon. He was still cupping your cheeks, caressing you with his thumbs. "You don't seem too thrilled about this news."

“I’m just..." you began but your voice cracked. "I'm just not ready yet, Namjoon. It's too soon.” Your boyfriend studied you a minute.

"Did you know about this? Is this why you didn't want to go and see the doctor?" asked Namjoon, his voice calm and quiet yet laced with sadness.

"I... I don't how... I suspected it, I mean... My period was late but that could be because of the sickness, I just... I don't know," you mumbled, wiping the tears from your eyes but they kept on falling. "I know you want a family, Namjoon. But I'm not ready yet, I just can't-"

"Hey, shh, it's okay... It's okay, my love," spoke Namjoon and pulled you into his arms. "It doesn't matter what I want, princess. If you don't want this, than neither do I, I promise you."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure. Whatever you decide to do, I'll always be here for you, okay, love?" spoke Namjoon as he kissed the top of your head.

Yoongi

You were lying in bed with Yoongi on a lazy weekend morning. He was playing with your fingers and tracing sunlight marks across your arms. You had trouble sleeping all night, tossing and turning, feeling too hot then too cold, feeling anxious and sick and then finally you were able to fall asleep near morning. But that singular moment of being held by your boyfriend, of sunshine pouring into your bedroom relieved you of all tension.

That is until a nasty hot washed over your body and settled in your abdomen. Suddenly, you burst out of bed, starling both yourself and your boyfriend but you had no time for explanation. You burst into the bathroom and knelt before the toilet, vomiting like crazy.

Yoongi burst in after you and pulled your hair back, his free hand gently rubbing your back. You flushed the toilet, thinking you were done when suddenly another wave of nausea washed over your stomach.

"Jagi, what's going on?" asked Yoongi when you were finally able to lean against the side of the bath.

"I don't know," you mumbled as you shook your head but the same moment those words escaped your lips, your eyes opened and widened.

"What?" asked Yoongi.

"Nothing," you said quickly but he was not fooled.

"Tell me," he insisted and scooted closer to you where he pushed your hair behind your ear. You looked up into his eyes, studying him as you considered confiding in him or not. But if your suspicions provided to be true, then you would have to talk to Yoongi anyways.

"What... What if I'm pregnant?" you asked in a mere whisper.

Yoongi froze as if someone had just poured a bucket of ice-cold water over his head. His eyes drained of emotion.

"I don't think..." you began as you shook your head. "I don't think I'm ready, Yoongi... I don't... I don't think I'll ever be ready," you confessed. “I like the way things are. Just the two of us,” you whispered guiltily as quiet tears fell down your cheeks. Something about saying those words felt both like relief and condemnation at the same time.

"So do I," said Yoongi and brushed away the tears from your face. You looked up at him once again, wanting to see if he was truthful or just saying that to comfort you. But it wasn't in Yoongi's nature to lie and neither did he do so in that moment.

"But what if I am pregnant?" you asked.

"Then we'll go and see your doctor," said Yoongi calmly as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. He kept his warm hands on your cheeks, brushing away your tears.

"Please don't cry, kitten," he whispered, his eyes locked with yours. His heart was breaking seeing you this harsh on yourself, on something that happened by mere chance. "I'll take care of you, Y/N. Whatever you decide to do," promised Yoongi and pulled you into his arms where you locked your hands around his torso and leaned against his chest.

Hoseok

You were pacing up and down the waiting room, nervous for the result of your blood test. It has been more than five weeks since your last menstruation and you've been feeling far too sick for it to be normal - not only in the mornings but all the time. You couldn't sleep and you were sore all over. Although you did not want it to be true, you were not surprised when the pregnancy test was positive. Still, convenience store pregnancy tests were not entirely reliable so you had to see your doctor before you would even mention something to your boyfriend. You could not even imagine how this happened since you were always using protection.

"Ms Y/N?" asked the nurse as she stepped out into the hallway. She invited you back into the doctor's office where you sat down with your gynaecologist.

"We've ran the tests several time, Ms Y/N, but I'm afraid they always came back positive," said your doctor sympathetically. You told her of your concerns before the tests were made and could not do much else but nod. She told you about your options, about continuing the pregnancy and even adoption but those were not really options for you personally. Even when you saw the convenience store pregnancy test come out positive, you already knew you wouldn't go through with it should it be confirmed by your doctor as well.

"Right," you nodded but your voice was hoarse as if you had been crying. You did not think so yet when you touched your cheek you realized it was stained with tears.

You apologized quickly and took out a tissue but the doctor seemed to perfectly understand.

"Then... Would you like to make an appointment to terminate the pregnancy?" asked your gynaecologist. "I must inform you that you will need someone to escort you home after the procedure; your mom, a friend, your partner..."

That made you think of how you were going to tell Hoseok. Whether he would even want to come with you in the first place.

You nodded and discussed the procedure with your doctor but as you arrived home, your head was spinning from all the information. Your chest was heavy with anxiety and your head hurt. But as you opened the bathroom door, you found Hoseok with your positive pregnancy test in his hands. You froze on your tracks, your eyes widening as his gaze found your own.

"Are you... Are you pregnant?" asked Hoseok in disbelief.

"I just got it confirmed by my doctor," you nodded, your voice falling silent.

"What are you going to do?" asked Hoseok out of breath.

You shook your head as tears crept into your eyes. You couldn't understand why you were crying out of the sudden but you were. Perhaps it was the pressure, the anxiety, the hormones or all at once, yet suddenly you found yourself crying against Hoseok's chest. He sat you up on the bathroom counter and ran his fingers through your hair.

"It's okay, shh, it's okay, my princess," spoke Hoseok softly as he tried to calm you down.

"I'm not... I'm not going to keep it, Hobi," you sobbed quietly. "A-Are you angry with me?"

"What?" said Hoseok as he pulled away, holding your shoulders. "Why would I be angry with you, Y/N? It's your body and it's a big decision. Whatever you want to do, is alright with me, do you hear me?" he asked, looking you deep in the eye. Hoseok brushed the tears from your cheeks as you proceeded to tell him about your appointment.

"They said I need someone to help me home afterwards," you spoke slowly.

"You know I'm coming with you, Y/N," assured Hoseok. "If you like it or not, I'll be there. Always, okay?"

You nodded as more tears fell down your cheeks and you wrapped your arms around Hoseok's neck. "Thank you," you whispered.

Jimin

"Jimin?" you began slowly as you found your boyfriend sitting on the sofa, his gaze firmly on his favourite tv series. But once he heard your voice, his eyes found you and softened immediately. Jimin opened his arms for you and you gladly accepted, snuggling into his chest as your legs rested in his lap. But your chest was heavy with concern and anxiety. You weren't feeling like yourself these past days so you went to your doctor for a check-up. Yet then the results of your bloodwork came back, the doctor informed you that you were pregnant. You had never imagined this to happen and it was beyond you to even try to calculate when or how this happened. But the bloodwork was run several times and there was no doubt that you were pregnant.

You have never even talked to Jimin about whether he wants a family or not, you've barely even thought about whether you want one. But during the past few days that was all you could possibly think about. The more you contemplated it, the more you realized you did not want to continue this pregnancy. There were times in your life when you thought you wanted to have a family at some point but now that you were actually in this moment of decision, you could not possibly imagine raising a baby and starting a family. Perhaps it was too soon, perhaps you did not wish for a family at all. For now, Jimin was all you wanted and could ever need.

"Sweetheart?" asked Jimin, "Y/N? Are you okay?" he spoke once again, waking you up from your thoughts. Jimin pulled back slightly and looked you in the eye. You blinked and nodded your head.

"Yeah, no, I'm, I'm okay," you stuttered although even you did not believe your own words.

"What is it, sweetheart? Tell me," asked Jimin gently and caressed your cheek.

You licked your dry lips and glanced away.

"You trust me, don't you?" said Jimin and raised your chin to face him.

You bit the corner of your lip as you sat up on your own and felt yourself fidget unconsciously.

"I... Um..." you began but you seemed to have forgotten all the words. "I, um... I have to tell you something, Jimin," you said carefully and pushed the hair from your eyes. You were twitching your leg nervously against the sofa but did not know how to stop it.

"What is it? Tell me," insisted Jimin and took your hand, "Are you sick?"

"I'm pregnant," you blurted out. Instead of your chest releasing the anxiety it only grew larger and heavier, weighing you down. Your eyes watered with tears.

"Wh... You're... You're pregnant?" stuttered Jimin, his eyes wide and puzzled like a child's.

"But I... I don't want to keep it. I won't keep it," you mumbled distressed. "I just can't. I don't want to be a mom, Jimin," you hurried as big fat tears fell from your eyes. Jimin watched you as you spoke those words before he took your face into his hands.

"Whatever you decide to do, Y/N, I'll support you," he assured.

"You will?" you whispered timidly, looking up into his big brown eyes.

"What kind of question is that? Of course I will," he assured and pulled you close as he kissed your forehead.

"I'm sorry," you said, feeling guilty as hot tears wet Jimin's shirt. "I'm just really scared," you confessed.

"Hey, there's nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart, okay? Nothing," promised Jimin. "If you don't want to keep it, we can go see your doctor first thing tomorrow, alright?"

"Okay," you nodded against Jimin's chest as he caressed your hair until you calmed down.

Taehyung

You waited in front of the doctor's office for your appointment. It's been the second time that week that you've visited your gynaecologist; the first time because you've missed your period and weren't feeling quite yourself with all the muscle soreness and morning sickness. When your doctor gave you the news that you were pregnant, she could tell by the look on your face it was something you did not want; at least not at this point. She told you your options but to you there was only one - abortion.

"I'm here," said Taehyung out of breath. Your eyes widened as you looked up at his face. You haven't told anyone you were pregnant, least of all your boyfriend who had a soft spot for every baby and toddler in this world.

"Wh... What are you doing here?" you stuttered in absolute horror.

"You don't think I'd let you go through this on your own, my love?" spoke Taehyung softly and caressed your cheek before taking your hands into his lap. His fingers traced comforting shapes in your skin but you were too stunned to notice.

"How did you find out?" you asked dismayed. Taehyung turned to look at you, an utterly foreign expression on his face. His eyes were soft but sad and his features sombre.

"How could you think I wouldn't?" he spoke gently, "They called me since I'm your emergency contact and you didn't arrange for someone to escort you home," explained Taehyung.

"That's... That's why you're here?" you asked slowly.

"I'm here for you, Y/N," said Taehyung and squeezed your hands reassuringly, "And whatever you want."

"I wish you'd told me, though," he added.

"I thought you'd want to keep it," you spoke quickly yet quietly.

"I would," confessed Taehyung, "But it's your body and I would never force you to do something you weren't ready to do, Y/N." He tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear before he pressed his lips softly to your forehead.

Your eyes watered. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Tae," you admitted. As you spoke those words, your doctor appeared in the doorway and invited you inside.

"It's alright, my love," spoke Taehyung comfortingly and kissed your hand. "I'll be right here when you wake up and I'll take you home, alright?"

You nodded and wiped the tears from you eyes. "Thank you," you murmured and hugged him before you went with your doctor.

Jungkook

You were pacing up and down your bathroom, staring at the timer on your phone. You had taken a pregnancy test because your period was unusually late. Although there was no guarantee it was going to be positive, you had a feeling about it. It's been on your mind for days and so was the decision of what to do if you were indeed pregnant. You had no idea what Jungkook's stand was on it but it was your body at the end of the day and you had no intention of starting a family yet. Perhaps one day in the future but doing so now would be a mistake.

Your phone began buzzing just before the test showed you were pregnant.

"What's going on?" asked a deep voice. You gasped and jumped around, startled by Jungkook's presence. He wasn't supposed to be home for hours and you had hoped you had more time to consider what to say to him, how to tell him the news and your decision.

"Is that..." began Jungkook as he noticed the blue-white stick in your hands.

"I..." you stuttered.

"Are you pregnant, Y/N?" asked Jungkook in disbelief as his gaze found yours. His eyes were wide and his lips parted.

"I... I think so," you admitted and showed your boyfriend the pregnancy test. Your hands were shaking from all the emotion. You did not know what to feel. Jungkook frowned.

"Are you scared of me, kitten?" he asked carefully, his voice deep and husky.

"N-No," you said and shook your head. "I... I don't know..." You bit the inside of your cheek, fidgeting with your hands.

"Y/N..." breathed Jungkook as he reached out for you and pulled you to his chest. You leaned your head against his torso as he caressed your hair and you finally let out all the emotion. Tears stained Jungkook's shirt.

"I... I'm really scared, Jungkook," you sobbed quietly. "I... I don't w-want to be p-pregnant," you confessed, your entire body trembling.

"Shh, it's okay, kitten, it's okay," spoke Jungkook against the top of your head where he left soft, comforting kisses. "Everything will be alright, I promise."

"Hey," said Jungkook as you began crying even harder. He cupped your cheeks and made you look at him whilst he brushed away your tears. "We'll see your doctor so that they can confirm you're really pregnant. And if you are, then we'll make an appointment to do whatever you decide to do, alright? Everything will be okay," promised Jungkook once again.

You nodded and hugged him tightly. "Are you not angry with me?" you stuttered.

"Why would I be angry with you, princess?" asked Jungkook astonished.

"Because... Because this even h-happened or I... I don't know..." you whispered as more tears stained your boyfriend's shirt.

"This isn't your fault, kitten. It just happens sometimes," spoke Jungkook quietly as he kissed your forehead.

"And... And you're not angry because I want to end it?" you asked once again.

"I want whatever you want, kitten. That's never going to change," murmured Jungkook against your lips before kissing you gently.

[mercy-burning]

(preface) the letter. || THE DOCTOR.

in which the doctor sets our scene. content warnings: N/A word count: 759

series masterlist || main masterlist

———

Dear Mom,

It feels strange to do this knowing that you're not actually here to read my words, but writing to The Idea of You somehow feels more comforting and less dorky than writing out "Dear Diary". Besides, I wouldn't be able to send them out to you anyway. No-contact with the world outside of Sardinia is my one condition to, truly, the best option I have.

It isn't the island in the Mediterranean, though. I've been sent to live in Sardinia, Alaska as a call-in doctor for its residents, even though I have no professional medical training whatsoever. I'm qualified enough to figure it out and be at least semi-proficient at the job, but it's not something I'm particularly eager about. Mostly because it's completely out of my control and I'd also rather not do it alone. I know it's for my safety, and my team is the best at what they do. In no time at all, I'll be back home and doing the job that I'm actually qualified for. I'll have my friends back... My family...

But I can't think about them like that right now. If I'm going to get through this "assignment," we'll call it, then I'm going to have to detach and move forward. When there's news, it will come, but until then I plan to do exactly as I'm expected to, and lay low. It shouldn't be too hard, though. All I really have to do is come when people call and give them the treatment to make them feel better. It's geographically the smallest, and physically the least-populated town I've ever visited, anyway. How hard could it possibly be?

The hardest part I'm sure will be boredom, but if that's the largest worry I'll have, then so be it. Being bored is better than being dead.

Until then, I have a semi-secluded cabin to myself right on the edge of town, with approximately seventeen warm knitted throw blankets (I'm still finding new ones here and there the more I explore the home) and a small painting of a cardinal above the front door. I look at it every morning over a cup of coffee and wonder about what Gideon would do in my shoes, until I laugh to myself and realize that he'd probably just do it every day with a smile and genuinely never want to leave. I'm like him in a lot of ways I think, but... I'll admit that I've been a bit too spoiled with my life in the city to even think about enjoying my time here to the fullest like he could.

For instance, I've come to realize that I don't like the snow as much as I thought I did. It's tolerable and sometimes even pretty when there are city workers who magically plow the sidewalks on your commute to work. And perhaps growing up in Nevada and wishing for a snowy Christmas morning all my childhood had tricked me into believing that it was magical, but I'm of the firm belief that snow is only 'magical' when you don't have to tend to it nearly every day. Some days are better than others, when there's only a light dusting for a week or two, but I've only been in Sardinia for two weeks and three days, and I'm utterly exhausted on physical labor alone. I could call my landlord to do it for me, as she'd so wryly offered to when I moved in, but I already feel like an outsider as it is. So rather than asking someone to teach me how to fix and use the rickety old snowblower in my shed out back, I have promptly decided to suffer in silence and keep my dignity intact.

Who knows, by the end of this Alaskan venture, I may also just be strong enough to take Derek Morgan in an arm-wrestling match... Well, okay, definitely not, but at the very least I'd be able to catch him off-guard for a second or two before his inevitable victory.

Anyway... Aside from greetings from my landlord and the Mayor, I haven't officially met any of the people in town yet. I think they're all still a bit worried about immediately bothering the call-in doctor and not giving him enough time to settle in first, but he's also not really made an effort to do much exploring outside the perimeter of his cabin and its backyard... To his credit, he doesn't do well with change. Never has.

Perhaps the quaint community of Sardinia doesn't, either, and perhaps that's something we'll have in common.

[yurisorcerer]

Finally fuckin' finished my favorite show of last season. I got lucky, most of the episodes I had yet to watch formed a contiguous arc.

And what an arc. It's been a while since I've been simultaneously really excited about where a show *could* go and a little trepidatious about where it might fail to go.

So! Ruby knows that the doctor she bonded with in a past life was murdered some sixteen years ago. She doesn't YET know that said doctor is now her brother, but I imagine that's coming down the pipe in pretty short order. She handles the former....in what is I guess the Hoshino family way, by which I mean she develops a single-minded obsession with catching her beloved's killer. This will have knock-on effects, I am quite positive. It's already *having* knock-on effects. I mean even just for me alone, I've long fluttered between Akane and Kana as my two favorite characters, but I think dark-star-eyes Ruby might give them a run for their money. Predictably---because this is how this series works---her psyche being stained with trauma and obsession gives Ruby a palpable dark charisma, something that's a million miles away from where the character was up to this point. It's an interesting direction, and and it's incredibly entertaining, but part of me does wonder if Oshi no Ko has the chops for all this.

Put super bluntly, I love this series, and I love a lot of things about it. I love its endless bag of visual tricks, I love its sheer sense of style and panache, I love its characters, almost all of whom are a joy to watch. Its THEMES, though, those are a thing where I've never been totally clear on where exactly Oshi no Ko stands. I think up to a point (around the end of season 1, maybe?) you can make the case that ONK is a pretty straightforward "fame fucks you up" kind of thing, and it definitely is at least partly that, but the series takes waaaaaaaaay too much voyeuristic pleasure in showing us just how magnetic people whose personalities are cracked in a certain way can be. It's downright lurid, in spots. And that's not to say that there isn't a real joy to be had in the talents that the cast have, because there is---Melt's episode is almost entirely about that---but now that we're heading once again into the darker, seedier aspects of this series' story, I do wonder what it's all going to add up to by the end. Again being honest, I wonder if it's writing checks it can't cash with imagery like this.

(Yes I know that first one is from their music video, but the music video is also part of the anime. Oshi no Ko *loves* to mix textual layers like this.)

I have always kind of suspected that Akasaka Aka is fundamentally a somewhat morally conservative writer, so I don't know what him attempting to steer Ruby in this new direction is going to look like. I'm not sure he really has it in him to let her go apeshit the way a couple scenes in this episode seem to promise. Certainly, I am vaguely aware that at least some fans of the manga think it's all downhill from here, but the guy's surprised me before and I wouldn't be too shocked if he did so again.

Even if the series completely fucks up its landing, I have to say I've REALLY enjoyed the ride. Season 2 is probably even better than Season 1, and Season 1 was no fucking slouch. These are my soap operas, and I do sometimes wonder if it reflects badly on me as a person that I get as much of a kick as I do out of seeing The Hoshino Family's Fun Time Misery Hour when it's airing.

I may cave and read the manga at some point, but even if I do I will definitely be there for Season 3 next year. The anime has been end to end gorgeous so far and I am really interested to see what they pull off in the episodes to come.

[ladamedusoif]

Secrets (Marcus Pike x GN!Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 24

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Pedro Boy Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist.

Follow my writing blog @ladameecrit and turn on notifications to keep up with my writing.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x GN!Reader 

Word count: 1743

Rating: Teen

Warnings: Angst; fluff; references to parental illness; no use of Y/N; no physical descriptions of reader; no gendered pronouns; minor swearing

A/N: This can be read as a standalone, but I wrote it thinking of Marcus and Reader from ‘Hot Chocolate’ and ‘Christmas Market’ in this series.

“How’s Marcus?” Your mother’s voice is bright and breezy on the call.

You pause a little too long for her liking. 

“Is everything okay?”

“It’s fine, mom, it’s just…he’s not himself, lately. I thought we were all set for the holidays - you know how we booked a little cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains - but every time I try to talk about packing or planning, he gets tetchy and weird.”

“Maybe it’s work stress? He does have a lot on. Poor Marcus.”

“So do I, mom, and I’m not taking it out on him. Every time I ask him outright he just says everything’s fine but it isn’t. It’s like he’s hiding something from me.”

Your mother tut-tuts. “That’s not Marcus. He would never keep secrets from you.”

“I wish I could be as confident as you are.”

***

With Christmas falling on a Monday, you and Marcus had planned to take off on the Saturday morning, making the most of the extra days off before the holiday. By Friday night, he’s got the bags ready to load into the car and your refrigerator is groaning with food for the vacation, all ready to be stacked in cool bags for the journey.

Things hadn’t improved much in the time since you’d voiced your fears to your mother. Marcus remained unusually tetchy and irritable, a far cry from his usual sunny self. He insisted he was looking forward to the time away with you, but there was just something off. Something hidden underneath the surface, and for the first time in your relationship he had put up enough defences so that you couldn’t reveal the truth. 

Maybe he’s unhappy, you think to yourself. Maybe the vacation is make or break.

Your stomach churns as you imagine five days away with Marcus while he tries to decide if you need to end the relationship or not. 

Your phone rings as you’re sorting out a couple of bottles of wine for the trip. Mom. You brush it off, muttering to yourself that you’ll call her later, once the packing is done. 

It’s barely two minutes later that Marcus comes into the kitchen, talking on his phone while trying to catch your attention. 

“I’ll put you on now…sure. Sure. Well, I’m sure he’ll be okay, I’m so sorry - okay, keep us posted.”

He hands you the phone, mouthing “Your mom”.

“Mom?”

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry… you’re probably up to your neck with packing and sorting for the trip.”

“Just tell me, mom. You wouldn’t call Marcus if it wasn’t urgent.”

“Darling…it’s your dad. He’s had a fall, he’s in hospital, and -”

Your heart drops. “Mom, is he okay?”

She pauses a second too long. “Fine, fine… just hasn’t regained consciousness yet but it’s fine! I just felt you would be angry if I waited until after your trip to tell you. But it’s fine!”

“Mom, you’ve said ‘it’s fine’ so many times I’m pretty sure it isn’t fine.”

“Sweetheart, please just go on your trip and we’ll keep you posted. Okay?”

You become aware of Marcus peeking around the corner, trying to assess your mood from the tone of your voice and your body language. 

“Did the doctors say when they think he’ll regain consciousness?”

Another pause.

“They’re not sure, sweetie.”

You look up at Marcus, your eyes looking into his as you tell your mom you’ll be home tomorrow.

***

He swears it’s fine, but you know Marcus is annoyed. Or hurt. Or maybe a mix of both. 

Shit, maybe this really was a make or break vacation.

He had offered to come with you, but you dissuaded him, not wanting him to have to be thrown head-first into the madness that was your family - crisis or no crisis. 

“I’ll just stay here, I guess.” He casts an eye over the bags in the hallway. 

“Babe, no.” You wrap your arms around his waist. “We paid for the cabin and it’s too late to cancel now. It would be a pity not to use it at all. You’ve got that stack of reading you want to do. And, like, when dad wakes up I can come down and join you. What do you think?”

He doesn’t quite meet your gaze. “I guess.”

“I love you, Marcus. I’m so sorry.”

He sucks on the inside of his cheek and kisses you - not on the mouth, but on the cheek. “I love you, too.”

***

When you arrive home in Ohio you hop straight in a cab to the hospital, where your mother and siblings have spent the night keeping vigil. You try not to panic when you see your dad, hooked up to a morass of tubes and wires. 

“The doctors say it looks worse than it is,” your older sister explained. She holds out a bag of peppermint candies. “Candy?”

It’s several hours before you realise you haven’t let Marcus know you got there safely, like you promised. Too busy trying to get a clear answer from your mom about what, exactly, the doctors have said, and distracted by trying to track down a doctor to discuss a prognosis. 

Hey babe - I’m sorry, I have been talking to my mom and the doctors here. Dad okay, still no sign of improvement but stable. Love you - call you tomorrow.

You spend that night at the hospital, insisting that your mom go home and rest. You watch the dark sky brighten, slowly but surely, as Christmas Eve dawns. 

“It’s Christmas Eve, dad,” you murmur, unsure if he can hear you or not. “You’re not in the drunk tank, though,” you joke, referring to his favourite Christmas song, ‘Fairytale of New York’. “Just in hospital. I’ll let you know if the NYPD choir turns up.”

You get up and stretch your legs, wandering into the hallway in search of caffeine and sugar. The hospital cafe is quiet and you grab a cup of black coffee and a donut before returning to your dad’s floor. 

Panic sets in when you see nurses moving in and out of his room. One of them turns, spots you, and grins. 

“He’s waking up! Can you call your mom?”

By lunchtime, he’s fully awake and talking, grumbling about not being allowed home for Christmas. You duck out later in the afternoon to call Marcus and update him.

It goes straight to voicemail.

***

The hot shower feels like heaven as you rinse away the strain of the last couple of days. Well, some of it, anyway. Marcus still hasn’t answered your calls.

Thankfully, you’ve found a distraction, volunteering to prep some food at your parents’ house that can be easily taken to the hospital for Christmas Day. You slip on a pair of soft old sweatpants and a college hoodie and pad around the kitchen, filling some Tupperware containers with individual servings of cold cuts and salads while listening to the cheesy Christmas show on the local radio station.

You crawl into bed late that night, casting one final glance at your phone. 

Still nothing.

***

You stir awake at about two in the morning, roused by a thumping noise coming from somewhere in the house. As your brain adjusts, you realise it’s someone knocking on the door. 

You grab your brother’s old baseball bat as you descend the stairs. Can’t hurt to be prepared, after all. And you’re pretty sure this isn’t Santa Claus calling.

You open the door slowly, reluctantly. 

A pair of coffee-brown eyes. A soft, uncertain smile. Cheeks flushed with cold. 

“Marcus?”

He rubs his hands together and stamps his feet. “Can I come in? Got really cold in the car on the way up here.”

You fling your arms around him as he steps inside, forgetting the strangeness of the last few weeks. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He holds his soft, dark green knitted cap in his hands and looks nervous. Really nervous.

“I… I had to see you.”

Oh, shit. Wait - is he going to break up with you on Christmas morning? While your dad’s in hospital?!

“Ooookay.”

“Baby, I -” He falters. “This isn’t how I wanted to do this.”

He is definitely about to break up with you. And good riddance, because he’s clearly heartless.

“Just get it over and done with, Marcus.”

He takes a deep breath and exhales, long and slow.

“I wanted to have the space to do this at the cabin, y’know?”

“Marcus. Just say it.”

“Baby, I’m so grateful for you - you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever met, so kind, so loving, and -”

You’ve had it. “Marcus - just say you don’t want to be with me. You’ve been weird for weeks. You’re here on Christmas fucking Day, having driven a seven-hour journey to get here. You obviously can’t be with me a minute longer, so you might as well just -”

He has dropped to one knee.

Wait. What?

“I wanted to ask you to marry me.”

Your jaw drops. For once, you’re stunned into silence.

“Baby?”

“I…Marcus. I just…is this…fuck.”

He reaches into his coat pocket and presents you with a little box. “Um, do you mind if I stand up again? My knees aren’t what they used to be.”

You chuckle and help him to his feet, before opening the box to find a perfect, simple engagement ring. 

“I can’t believe it, Marcus.”

He shrugs. “You seemed sure we were about to break up. I’m sorry I’ve been so stressed the last few weeks, my love. I was just readying everything for a perfect proposal, in the mountains, and I was so worried you’d say no, and then the ring was delayed, and then - well. And then your dad got sick. But he’s awake? I’m sorry, I only just saw your messages. My phone was in the trunk.”

You lift your gaze from the ring. “He’s awake. And I’m sorry, too - I didn’t know what you were keeping from me, and I didn’t even think of this.”

Marcus raises an eyebrow. “You didn’t think I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you?”

You chuckle. “Mmmm. Maybe I thought a man as perfect as you couldn’t possibly want someone like me.”

He pulls you tight to him and kisses you. “Baby, you forgot something.”

You look confused. “I did?”

“You didn’t give me an answer yet.”

Tears shining in your eyes, you slip the ring on your finger. “A million times yes, Marcus Pike. Provided there are no more secrets.”

[gothcsz]

𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒇𝒂𝒓𝒆 / Chapter I.

PAIRING: Javier Peña x Original Female Character

SUMMARY: Javier gets acquainted with his new job and new life in small town, Texas.

WORD COUNT: 6.7k

RATING:   18+ Mature topics such as sex, drugs, murder, the occult, religion, cannibalism and other triggering matters will be explored in this body of work. Minors DNI.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC TAGS: Mutual pining, talks of homicide, they really wanna fuck each other, beginning of a beautiful slow burn, lots of smoking, southern gothic vibes are strong with this one, if you love worldbuilding then this is the fic for you, mentions of a religious cult, subtle slutshaming.

DISCLAIMER/WARNINGS:   The Javier Peña referenced in this body of work is solely based off of the character that appears in Netflix’s Narcos and not the actual person. Very canon divergent and I will tweak things as I see fit to compliment the narrative of this story. While efforts have been made to be accurate in terms of canon timeline, a lot of details will be fictionalized.

A/N: it’s official, i am now licensed! lol jk jk but hooray to a first chapter! i’ve been working on this thing non stop trying to get the characterization and dynamic and overall voice of the story down pat. i had so much fun writing this tbh and i hope the person reading this enjoyed… well… reading it! i’m still trying to get the hang of writing/posting a whole ass fic while also learning how AO3/Tumblr works so pls be GENTLE with me *cries* i'm not sure what the upload schedule will be yet but just know ya girl is devoting all her free time to this currently.... anyways feel free to drop any type of feedback in my ask. < 3

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Javier Peña doesn’t know if he should see this reassignment as a good thing. He had gotten himself in a pretty hairy situation down in Colombia. His involvement with a death squad and the cartel had him pulled from the biggest case of his career right as they were on the verge of catching Escobar… and only he is to blame for that. He crossed a boundary with himself, gotten innocent people killed and what exactly does he have to show for it?

A reassignment to a small, shitty town in the middle of Texas. 

At least in South America he had a great view to cope with the shitty happenings. The lush mountains of Medellín that stretched for miles and miles, the bustling of the the country’s capitol, Bogotá, or the portrait perfect skyline of Cali. 

Here, it’s just dirt roads with barbed wired fences lining the vast amounts of grassy lands. Occasional livestock litter the area; Seminary’s only lifeline is farming since most of the families that reside here own ranches or crop fields. The town is able to sustain itself with what it produces, therefore not needing many additional businesses. Just a few blocks of shops and civil buildings. No hospital but a doctor’s office with one singular clinician, a grindhouse, some boutiques, a bakery, a very small post office that shares its space with the local newspaper.

Typical spaces you’d find in a settlement like this.

He can’t change his past and all his wrongdoings. Instead, Javier can try and see the fucking silver lining of the situation; that he finally has time to catch his breath… to slow down, for once. The concept is foreign to him. He’s been fleeing from it since he was an adolescent.

A fact that his father, Chucho, had brought up when Javier told the older man of his new job.

“Seminary? ¿Donde putas es eso? (Where the fuck is that?)”

“Couple hours southwest of El Paso. A smidge on the map.”

“A smidge on the map sounds like exactly what you need, hombre (man).” His pops tells him, taking a swig from his beer as the two lean against the wooden fence that keeps the herd of horses from running amuck.

Javi doesn’t say anything, instead gazing out into the vastness of the family ranch.

“All that craziness down there in Colombia te pudre le mente. El cuerpo. (It rots your mind. Your body.) And I’ll be damned if a heart attack takes you out before me.” The men chuckle briefly, sounding just alike.

“Comes with its own shit. A damn ‘cult’.” Javi scoffs, taking a smooth drag from the cigarette between his lips. “Least that’s what the locals think. Could just be a damn serial killer.” No different from what he’s experienced with the cartel.

“Shit is goin’ to be anywhere you go, hijo (son), pero se me hace a mi (it seems to me) that the shit they got goin’ on in Seminary is much more manageable than la mierda con Escobar (the shit with Escobar).” Just hearing his name has Javier clenching his jaw subconsciously and Chucho takes notice.

“Just an old man’s opinion. Take this time to look within. Figure out the type of man you want to be after being chewed up and spat out of Colombia.” Another swig of beer, “Pero eres tan bruto, nunca me haces caso (but you’re so stubborn, you never listen to me). ”

“In a shocking turn of events, this might be the one time I do.” Javier snuffs out the finished cigarette against the wooden pole, tossing it aside carelessly and crossing his arms against his chest. “But don’t get your hopes up. ”

“As long as you don’t drink the damn kool aid, vaz a estar bien (you’re going to be fine).” The father and son share another laugh, this time much more lighthearted.

Javi blinks slowly behind the aviators that sit on the bridge of his nose, the bright and grueling Texas sun beaming down on him harshly. Finishing his cigarette, he pushes himself off the hood of his restored Ford pickup truck. He’s been sitting outside of Seminary’s Sheriff’s Department for about ten minutes now, the small building located right in the middle of town very easy to find.

Then again, it wasn’t hard to get lost in a place this small.

It is unimpressive and has the makings of any other small town government building. An American flag flown proudly above Texas’s, the lettering that labeled the building faded due to being unkept and time. 

Javier knows that the dread he feels comes from not being able to sit still. It’s why he found some kind of pleasure working down in Colombia. Things were always moving at a fast pace, albeit he had done a lot of pencil pushing and running down the clock, but the city itself was bustling with life and culture that kept him on go even when he was idle. 

Here, however, the stillness is suffocating and he wonders how the people of Seminary can breathe. 

Is this sentiment what sparked the murders? Had someone finally had enough of the mundane and decided to spruce things up?

His eyes narrow, if he continues to stand out here any longer, the sheriff will begin to wonder if the new guy had bailed before even coming in.

He jogs up the steps that lead up to the main building, taking them two at a time then pushing open the worn, glass door of the entrance; removing his sunglasses and letting them hang from the collar of the cream colored button up shirt he’s wearing. 

He takes in his surroundings and somehow he feels like he and Murphy had more space back at the embassy than what they have here. 

There’s a front desk to the immediate right being tended to by an older woman with fiery red hair that’s got reading glasses on, too engrossed in her novel to notice that he’s stepped in.

Other than that, it's everything one would expect a sheriff’s department to look like. Desks pushed together here and there, singular ceiling fan lazily spinning in the center of the room, a break room tucked to the back, the hallway that led to detaining rooms and other necessary spaces, variety of office supplies and filing cabinets.

It almost looks too normal.

“Need somethin’, dear?” He is returned to himself as the older woman finally takes notice of him with a friendly smile, her eyes not so subtly giving him a once over. “We don’t usually get hunks ‘round here. You must be lost, sugar.”

Javier smirks, even without trying he’s got women smitten.

“Fortunately for you, ma’am, seems like I’m in the right place. Javier Peña, new Deputy Sheriff.” He strolls over to her desk, leaning against it as he reaches his hand out for her to shake. 

She lets out a warm laugh and they shake hands in which Javi notices a soft pink tint of blush on the apples of her cheeks. “Fortunately for me indeed. I’m Lorraine, darlin’, I pretty much run everythin’ ‘round here but don’t you go tellin’ Romeo that.” She winks at him.

“Don’t go tellin’ Romeo what now, Lorraine? That you’re gunnin’ for my job?” A boisterous voice interrupts them and Javier immediately recognizes it to be the sheriff. 

“Oh, I thought that was somethin’ we all already knew?”

“Hate to say it but she’s right. Works circles around me that one. Romeo Leighton. Great to have you here, Javier.” The sheriff now speaks to Javier directly, and he takes this as a sign to straighten his posture and formally introduce himself as well.

The man has a good fifteen years on Javi, standing a few inches taller with a much more worn look to him. He’s a bit skinny yet built, except for the typical beer belly most southern men tend to have. A scruffy and short beard with unruly hair that’s a mix of grays and dark browns.

“Thanks for having me.” The two share a brief handshake, “M’sure you two could handle the town all on your own, so I appreciate you making room for a plus one.” Javier decides to turn on the good ‘ol southern charm and it seems to land as intended as the atmosphere in the room remains friendly and the sheriff chuckles.

“Look at him catchin’ on so quick. We just might not let you go, amigo.” Lorraine playfully rolls her eyes and reaches over to pass the older man a stack of files. “These just came in from Rankin County.”

“You got here just in time. We got some new developments on the murders.” And just like that, the lively talk is over and they get right into the job. 

“Heard there were mentions of a group of some sorts?” Javier brings it up, wanting to get a gauge on the sheriff’s reaction instead of just reading about it through reports.

“Just rumors. Nothing concrete to back it up.”

The two men now find themselves in Romeo’s office, each smoking a cigarette with multiple files sprawled across the wooden desk.

Here’s what they know: three woman murdered along the highway that these towns share all within a year. They sustained multiple stab wounds, yet the fatal insertion was that of a sharp blade going straight through the heart. The men don’t know if that was intentional or accidental due to the amount of times their chests had been punctured.

It is gruesome, to say the least, but nothing that Javier hasn’t seen before, unfortunately. The way the cartel got creative with their murders just to send a message to their rivals had him exposed to many atrocities; he was desensitized to most forms of violence. Yet, the passion behind these crimes and unclear motive has piqued Javi’s interest the more they discussed it. 

“Then again… it could be nothin’. Just a giant, fucked up coincidence.” The sheriff grumbles, clearly frustrated by the lack of information.

“No, I don’t think so. Too similar of a killing method. Any clue what weapon was used?” Javier leans forward in the uncomfortable, leather chair to ash his cigarette and sifting through the papers, trying to find the coroner’s reports for all three victims.

“Some kind of dagger or knife. Thought it might have been a huntin’ knife but all the wounds were clean cut. No serrated edges on the weapon.”

Javi hums, going over the details in his head for the millionth time trying to see the picture that was so clearly painted in front of him.

There was just simply not enough evidence to make anything out of it. On top of that, the assailant hasn’t struck again in months. A good thing for the general public but not for them if they have any intention of bringing justice to the families of the victims and catching whoever was behind these heinous crimes.

Javier also realizes that while these murders were tame to him, they were most certainly not tame to the people around here. Atrocities as these simply didn’t happen in places like Seminary and surrounding areas. Now that they were dealing with the aggressive reality of humanity, it was shaking them to their core.

So much so that the God fearing townsfolk began spreading rumors that the devil had its eye on the town and already infiltrated the progressive minds of the local youth.

“There’s always some truth to rumors, you know.” Javi begins, gray smoke flooding out from his mouth and nostrils as he puffs out from the nicotine stick, “Someone must’ve seen or heard somethin’ to implicate the younger crowd. ”

The sheriff leans back in his chair, using his thumb to rub out the concentrated frown that had etched itself between his brows, “People ‘round here are pretty stuck in their ways, myself included at times, they don’t like the way this new generation is comin’ up. Barely goin’ to church, spendin’ more time at the bar than at work. How sexual music’s gotten. Small shit like that gets people talkin’. It’s annoyin’ but it’s just talk.”

Javier is going to have to polish his interpersonal skills. Something larger could be at play here so he makes a mental note to go out and talk to these people himself to get a better feeling for what the general sentiment is.

Hell, he might even start going back to church. He can’t remember the last time he step foot in one. With what all had transpired further south; he’d lost his faith entirely. There was so much evil and greed in the world, he felt helpless at the realization that even religion became aversive to him. 

“M’sure somethin’ll come up eventually.” Javier decides to be optimistic, struggling to do so but also wanting to turn over a new leaf, “In the meantime we’ll just have to make do with what we got. It’s been a while since the fucker struck so maybe they're done. Got a taste for it and decided they didn’t like it.” He finishes off his cigarette, stubbing it out and leaning back against the chair.

“A fresh set of eyes will really help with that. Appreciate you comin’ here, Peña. Don’t know much about your time down in Colombia but I can imagine it was rough. This is a massive change for you. Goin’ from damn drug traffickers to a coupla girls gettin’ stabbed on the side of a highway.” The older man continues to puff on his cigarette, his statement falling flat and almost in bad taste but Javier doesn’t say anything, instead shrugging. 

“I got a job— M’not complaining’.” That was almost not the case, and a nasty feeling at the pit of his gut stirs at the remembrance of his meeting with the board in D.C. in a few weeks to get his official reprimanding for his ties with Los Pepes. 

Javi is surprised that the Sheriff doesn’t bring up Judy Moncada’s quotes from the Miami Herald. Either he wasn’t informed or he simply did not care.

“That’s the spirit. What do you have goin’ on tonight?” Romeo begins, changing the subject entirely, and Javier can sense an invitation incoming. “‘Cause I’d love to have ya over for dinner. Give you a proper introduction to Seminary. You can meet my daughter, Paloma, too.” The sheriff then picks up one of the framed photos on his desk, turning it over for Javier to see.

A portrait of a stunning young woman sporting a cowboy hat, smiling brightly at the camera.

“Ain’t she a beaut?” He pulls the picture back, asking rhetorically and Javier clears his throat. 

For a moment he contemplates the dinner invitation, part of him wanting to be alone in the comfort of his new space but the other part wanting to just throw himself into this to keep his mind occupied and away from the grueling memories of the lengthy time he’d spent in Colombia.

“Sure, I’ll come by.” He decides. If he thought about it for a second longer, he’d talk himself out of going.

A large, friendly grin spreads on Romeo’s face and he nods, finally finishing off his cigarette. “Alright now, you can stop by ‘round 7.” He moves some of the files aside revealing a notepad and he digs in his shirt pocket to pull out a pen. Scribbling down his address messily onto the blank piece of paper, he tears it off and leans over to hand it to Javier.

“Not that hard to get to.” Javier nods curtly and takes the paper, folding it and stuffing it into his back pocket.

It’s later in the day, the sun cascading into the distance; its hues of deep oranges and reds softening as the night sky begins to take over.

Paloma sits on the rocking chair that matches her father’s out on the porch. A guitar nestled in her lap and personal booklet resting on the arm of the chair as she strums lightly, building the chorus of her new song out loud. She takes the pencil from behind her ear and jots down something quickly and messily, returning to strumming and humming simultaneously.

“Paloma!” She hears the loud voice of her father practically making the walls shake as he calls out for her from his bedroom that was on the other side of the house. They often opened all the doors and windows to allow the soft breeze to flow throughout their space. 

She groans, stopping her actions as the melody she was on the brink of figuring out leaves her entirely.

“What, daddy?!” She yells back, waiting for his reply which never comes.

He does this all the time.

Cursing quietly, Paloma stands from her comfortable spot, gently leaning her guitar against the wall then walking in to the house.

She finds Romeo exiting his bedroom and walking towards her, bottle of his good scotch in hand with a relieved look on his face. “Couldn’t find the goddamn liquor. Thought you had nabbed it from me.” He pinches her nose as he walks by her, in which she scrunches her face at the action. It's something he’s done since she was a little girl. It can be endearing but most of the time; it was just annoying.

“That’s the good stuff, daddy. I would never.” She follows behind him as they enter the kitchen, “Man must’ve left quite an impression for ya to be bustin’ out the crown jewel.” She watches as he begins to set out the dinnerware for tonight, and that’s when she realizes how late it has gotten.

It’s easy for Paloma to lose herself in her music. She has been able to since she was a child. Her mother had nursed the hobby the moment she saw how truly talented her daughter was. In return, Paloma became skillful in being able to play damn near any instrument put in front of her. And she could sing, too.

Beautifully.

“Javier’s got a sharp mind that I can use ‘round here. Thinkin’ I can finally start makin’ some damn progress. That deserves a special drink, don’t ya think? Come help me set the table.” She obliges, thinking her father’s words over.

The murders have been weighing heavily on his shoulders since they began. All the time and effort he’s put in to make the puzzle pieces fit only to come up empty handed. Paloma doesn’t know the specifics of it, just what he rants to her here and there. He doesn’t like to bring his work home.

Romeo has been away a lot since putting his entire focus on the cases. Many nights spent at the office but he at least tries to share one meal with his daughter throughout the week. Paloma understands this, and like always she gives him his space and doesn’t complain about it. 

The only reason she’s stuck around Seminary for so long is for him. He wouldn’t know what to do without her.

“Well I’m glad things are lookin’ up, finally. Can’t wait to meet this sharp thinkin’ Javier.” They finish setting up and Paloma excuses herself to go get changed into something a little more dressy seeing as her father was looking more put together than usual.

He must really be trying to make an impression.

Her room is on the second floor, alongside her childhood playroom and the empty room that contained some miscellaneous items.

Like her mother’s things.

Paloma always has a habit of letting her gaze linger at the closed, white wooden door of the room every time she passes it. In a strange way, she feels like her mother is standing behind that door; just waiting for her to open it and greet her like her daughter wishes she could.

But she hardly ever does, the sorrow feeling in her chest too heavy for her to bear being in there for longer than a few minutes.

She passes it with a quick glance, now entering her bedroom and throwing open her wardrobe doors. It’s a mess, like it usually is, but it’s an organized chaos that only Paloma Leighton could decipher. 

After eyeing some outfits, she decides on a cream toned, linen romper with shorts. It has a deep V cut in the front that tastefully exposed some of the tanned skin between her breasts. However, she puts on a matching lace bralette underneath to soften the risqué of the outfit.

Her hair is the brown of aged mahogany. Long and thick, it falls almost to her waist and she does nothing but brush it out. It naturally falls the way she likes. A beautifully sculpted cross necklace hangs from her neck; it was her mother’s and she’d given it to Paloma shortly before passing. She finishes getting ready by spritzing some of her perfume and applying lip gloss before sauntering down the steps.

She hears the soft sound of her father’s record playing some old school country tune, the song sounding throughout the house and she smiles gently. She crosses the threshold and is out on the porch to gather her things from earlier when she catches the headlights of a vehicle coming down the elongated driveway of the property.

That must be him.

“Daddy, your friend’s here!”

Javier got a chance to get to get acquainted with the town before his dinner with the sheriff. He wandered around the shops and establishments that littered the main street of Seminary, drove the backroads then up and down the highway a few times to get a feel for how he would approach his new job. 

The conclusion he’s come to is that the town, for the most part, is harmless. But he’s only been here one afternoon so what the hell does he know?

After his exploration, he finally made it to the place he would be calling home until further notice. A dingy yet quaint trailer home located on about two acres of land. It has everything he requires. Furnished neatly and stocked with all the cooking utensils he could ever need but ultimately never use. Javier found himself more comfortable after unpacking the few items he’d brought along with him.

Maybe his father was right. Maybe he can finally slip into some normalcy.

But he’s only been here one afternoon so what the hell does he know?

After a stop at the local bakery, an ‘if you blink you’ll miss it’ type of establishment, and the purchase of some homemade banana pudding; the man is driving up a dirt path to Romeo’s home.

The sheriff lives on an impressive mount of land, his house looking like something plucked straight out of an old southern painting. A large, two story home with a wraparound porch. A typical white picket fence surrounds the immediate area. The landscaping is beautiful, it looks very well tended to and he can hear Chucho’s voice ringing in the back of his head.

“¿Vez? Que te dije (see? what did I tell you)— peaceful.” 

He cuts the engine of his Ford, checking his appearance in the rearview mirror before grabbing the tinfoil container from the passenger’s seat and getting out.

The first thing he sees as he approaches the front door are long, tan legs that lead up to some full and soft looking thighs that instantly have him licking his lips.

And who is this?

“Good evening, ma’am.” His deep voice cuts through the sound of the summer evening, his Texan accent thick. The sounds of toads croaking in the distance and different insects chirping about set a pleasant ambiance for the southern night.

The woman stands alert at the sound of his voice and turns to face him, which causes Javi to damn near lose his breath at the sight of the beauty in front of him.

It is the same woman that Romeo had shown him earlier, except the picture didn’t do her natural beauty any justice. She’s got the most gorgeous features he’s ever seen on a woman, and he’s been around a lot of beautiful women. 

Her lips are pouty and pink, the gloss she’s wearing accentuates their plushness so well. Honey colored brown eyes that even from where he stands can see twinkle with curiosity beneath the soft porch lights. Freckles sprinkle across her nose and the tops of her cheeks complimented by her natural blush. 

Damn.

“You must be Javier. I’m Paloma, Romeo’s daughter.” She smiles at him in which he can’t help but mirror as she sets down the guitar in her possession and he slowly walks up the porch steps.

Well, this certainly is a pleasant surprise. When Paloma’s father had told her about the new guy that was joining the department, she just pictured some run of the mill, old looking man. One that looked like every other one of his colleagues. 

She most definitely wasn’t expecting such a handsome man like the one that’s in front of her.

“Paloma.” The way her name falls from his lips with a Spanish accent has her stomach erupting in butterflies.

She’s never heard anyone say it like that.

“Beautiful name. Very fitting.” The flirtatious compliment is one she’s heard too many times to count, but hearing it come from him makes it feel like the sweetest thing she’s ever heard. Their close proximity has her catching a whiff of his cologne mixed with.. cigarettes?

Her thighs clench involuntarily.

Javier takes her hand in his as she extends it to greet him. Instead of going in for a handshake, he brings it up to his lips and places a soft kiss against her knuckles. It has her tingling all over; electricity sprouting from the spot where the kiss is planted. She can’t help the way her blush deepens at the action, and she almost wants to slap herself for reacting so easily.

Dating isn't a priority in Paloma’s life. Any man worth having in this town is already taken and the rest are nothing but a waste of time. Just some fun for her to have, hooking up with a handful of them whenever her fingers couldn’t get the job done. 

It is rare when there's an eligible newcomer and even then she is too preoccupied with keeping the family home in shape and her music to even think about dating. She is aware of the way the gossips in town talk about her, disliking that she is a single and childless twenty-six year old woman.

“She should be married by now. At her age I already had three kids.”

“It’s so sad, really.”

“I’ve heard she’s given it up to about half the boys in town.”

They gasp and glance over at her over their shoulders. Paloma pretends she doesn’t see them do this.

Her true love, aside from music, is that of traveling. She wants nothing more than to leave Seminary all together and head west, see what the rest of the world has to offer. Take a chance on her music... make a name for herself.

Unfortunately for her, she’s got some heavy family ties here in Texas (her father) and after the death of her mother— she wouldn’t dare leave him. The guilt would eat her alive.

Was it fair for her to give up her aspirations just to keep one person happy? No… but things aren’t always fair and she has a decent life here in Seminary. She doesn't have to worry about paying any bills or surviving on her own; though she knows she’s more than capable of doing so if she really had to. She only has that job at the library to help pass the time whenever she’s not buried in a book or playing her day away on the piano. Any money she receives is stashed away in an old jewelry box in the back of her closet in case one day she finally decides to leave.

All that to say that romantically, men aren't something she focuses on. However, this man in particular, she could spare some of her attention to. Something about his swagger is attractive. He shifts his weight onto one foot and pokes his hip out slightly; giving her a good view of his built figure.

“Clever and charming. Guess daddy was right about you.” Paloma cocks her head to the side slightly, taking in his appearance better now that he was closer and damn, is he handsome. The type of handsome that you only see on TV. 

He’s clad in a long sleeve, forest colored shirt with a few buttons undone at the top; a gold chain teasing her against his brown skin. He’s rolled the sleeves up on the shirt up to his elbows and she notices how rugged he looks, veins on his forearms flexing ever so slightly. Tight cowboy jeans are paired with some expensive looking brown leather boots and a nice belt to tie it all in together.

Her eyes travel up from his body to his countenance, noticing how truly handsome and mature he is. Like he’s experienced things she’d never come close to imagining. She wants to know it all. The full 70s looking pornstache above his lip somehow very appealing to Paloma, whose ‘type’ up until this moment has been clean cut, military boys.

He is anything but clean cut, and she likes that. 

His lips full, nose very distinguished with a devilish curve and… stable looking. A perfect seat for her to perch herself on. She can practically feel it nudging against her clit before he completely devours her.

A lazy yet cocky lopsided smile tugs at his lips, as if he can see the filthy thoughts in her head. “Already talking me up, I see.” he greets Romeo, whom Paloma hadn’t realized had stepped outside since she was too preoccupied eye fucking the stranger in front of her. 

“Didn’t tell her nothin’ that wasn’t true. What’s that you got there?” The older man gestures to the container.

“I could spot Betty’s homemade banana puddin’ with my eyes closed.” Paloma speaks up, trying to recover from the slight embarrassment she feels for thinking so sinfully about him.

Javier’s onyx colored eyes meet hers again and she looks away almost bashfully, occupying herself by finally gathering her things.

“I couldn’t show up empty handed. Ma woulda slapped me right upside the head. Where are your manners, niño (boy) ?” He does what she would assume is an impression of his mother and this gets a giggle out of her.

She is utterly interested in getting to know him better.

“On behalf of us, you can thank your mother for instilling manners into ya. Come on in, we cleaned for once.” He jokes, ushering his company in and she just rolls her eyes playfully at her father’s antics.

The night turns out to be very enjoyable for Javi. He is in good company and the dinner provided, cooked by Paloma since she didn’t let her father take credit for any of it, definitely helped soothe over some of the smaller, sore spots left by Colombia. 

They laugh and swap stories, Javier shares some of his more lighthearted moments in the country down south while Paloma and Romeo try to out-embarrass each other with different family tales.

It helps to have some eye candy, though, as he finds it difficult to keep his eyes away from her longer than a few seconds. Even while the sheriff is in direct conversation with him, Javier can see her from his peripheral and how she also can’t seem to peel her gaze from him.

Murphy always gave him a ‘hard time’ about his effect on women and how Javier used it to his advantage. It’s the only way he got shit rollin’ down in Colombia. The only people that approached him willingly were the working ladies that resided in the city.

And who was he to turn down a good, even great time?

Quickly enough, word had spread amongst the girls and next thing he knew; he had a list of ‘informants’ so long that even he began to lose track.

It was simple, getting information from them then taking them back to his place… his car… or the bar restroom. Whatever was most convenient.

Most of the time they would come to him with bullshit leads just to see him again, and most of the time he would just give them what they wanted, which was just another blissful night with Agent Peña.

Something about Paloma, however, gives him the impression that he wouldn’t fuck her how he did those girls down south. Not unless she asked… begged him to, at least.

He’d make sure to kiss every inch of her golden skin, make her feel good and satisfied before burying himself deep inside her. What’d he do to see those pretty lips parted with his name falling from them like a prayer.

“You should sing him somethin’. ”

Romeo’s suggestion has Javier raising his brows and snapping him out of his thoughts.

They’ve moved out onto the porch, taking in the peacefulness of the night and the clear view of all stars the littered the unobscured sky. The banana pudding long gone.

“I am not some show pony you can just make do tricks whenever you like, old man.” She retorts playfully from her spot on the top of the porch steps, meddling with the rings on her fingers.

From this angle, Javier is able to get a better look at those thighs he’s been fantasizing about all night. Is it a terrible move to go after your quote un quote ‘bosses’ daughter after just meeting her? Probably, but Javi’s done worse and he’s picked up that she seems to be very keen to his subtle advances. Or not subtle, depending on how well he is able to hide any type of direct flirtation with his natural charisma.

“You shy to?” Javi asks her, lighting the cigarette that rests between his lips. He is a pro at chain smoking, this making it the fourth one he’s smoked in the last hour that they’ve been out here. 

She snorts, shaking her head and looking over at him. When their gazes meet, he can’t help the shadow of a smirk hover his lips and she slightly narrows her eyes at him.

“That one? Shy? The last damn word I’d use to describe her.” Romeo takes a swig from the scotch he’s poured, pointing at his daughter. “Sometimes I can’t get her to shut up.”

“Wow, and father of the year goes to…” She replies sarcastically, standing which allows Javier to let his eyes linger over her body, taking a long drag from the cigarette to keep his perverted thoughts at bay.

Like how he wanted to feel her thighs wrapped around his waist. Or better, his head.

“I’m just teasin’. She’s got such an angelic voice, I never get tired of hearin’ her sing.” The sincerity in Romeo’s tone pulls Javier out of his ogling, attention now over to the older man. 

“You should come see her at The Whiskey Fox weekend nights. Puts on one hell of a show.” She leans back against the railing, crossing one foot over the other. This causes the shorts of her romper to rise up slightly, exposing more of her skin.

Like a moth to a flame, he’s eyeing her once more but doesn’t make it as obvious. He wouldn't want to be chased out of here by a shotgun wielding, overprotective father.

“Is The Whiskey Fox the spot to go to in town?” Javier asks to no one in particular, ashing his cigarette on the small plate that sits on the small table between him and the sheriff.

“More like the only spot in town. It’s a bar with a stage, n’they have the best loaded fries. Swear.” She informs him, once again commanding his undivided attention.

No matter how many times he looks at her, he’s still taken aback by how breathtakingly beautiful she is.

“Well if you swear then I guess I’ll have to stop by some time.” He nods his head towards her and she smiles softly, pushing herself off the railing.

“Just give me a heads up when you decide to make your first appearance.” He hears a hint of flirtatiousness in her statement, as if she’s rolling the ball in his court to make the first move. 

As badly as he wants to take her up on that, thinking on a whim like he always has; Javier stops from doing so. This was a chance for him to start anew, amend for all the mistakes he made in Colombia.

But she’s making it very difficult for him to.

Did he really have any intention of changing if all it takes to throw caution in the wind is one pretty girl?

“As much as I’d love to stay in the pleasure of y’alls company….” She runs her hands down the front of her outfit and begins to head inside, “I have to be up early to open the library. You still takin’ me, daddy?” She asks the sheriff softly, stopping by the front door and Javier looks away, glancing out into the distance.

The older man grumbles out, “Yeah. We gotta get that car of yours up and runnin’ though. Don’t know how many free rides I got left in me.” The statement piques Javier’s interest and he can’t help but to rejoin the conversation.

“Got car problems?” He looks between them two, gaze lingering over her as she speaks up. 

“Yeah, my Darla quit on me ‘bout a month ago. Mechanic in town can’t seem to fix the problem.” Paloma seems annoyed by that fact and that has him offering to help before his own brain can stop him from doing so.

“I restored my truck. Had some help from my pops but I pretty much got her up and runnin’ all by myself.” Javier takes another puff of his cigarette, keeping a small smirk at bay as he catches Paloma’s attention drift over to his vehicle in interest. “I wouldn’t mind takin’ a look at yours. If that’s okay. ”

Her father also lets out a sign of content, “That’d be fuckin’ great, Javi. Godsend this guy, poppin’ into town and helpin’ me solve all my goddamn problems. What’s it been— not even a day? Shiiit.” Romeo lets out a laugh, finishing off the contents in his short glass.

Javier would usually find this amount of praise annoying–– ass kissing to keep him content in the shitty position he’s been put it in. However, in this instance, he doesn’t really mind it. It would also give him an opportunity to get to know Paloma better without it crossing over into more nefarious territory.

“Yeah, very sweet of you. I’d really appreciate that.” Yet another glimpse of her enchanting smile. She bends down to place a kiss on her father’s cheek and then waves at him. “Good night y’all. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Peña.” Even though Javi had already told her to call him by his first name earlier, he can’t help but enjoy the way his surname pushes past her lips. That sweet voice of hers sounding like pure honey.

“Pleasure’s all mine, Miss Leighton.”