#ATTA BOY!!! IM SO PROUD OF YOU!' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deniigi · 4 years ago

Note

A fic from Boba’s POV as a babysitter seeing Din’s family dynamics isn’t self indulgent it’s indulgent to your readers - fuck, that sounds like the best, most hilarious thing ever?!? (With peppered in bits of Boba’s identity crisis/diaspora feels)

I say you release babysitter boba fic ;) It sounds hilarious

Ask and you shall receive, anons. Beware. It’s like 11k of world building lol.

(I will post here and not on Ao3 because I’m not ready for that level of commitment rn lol)

Title: in the plains of Zeffo

Summary:

“I don’t like him,” Karren told Din.

“Concurred,” Din said.

“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.

“I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.

“Din,” Karren whined.

“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.

(Din’s original finder’s old crush on the Armorer is rekindled after he helps her reunite with Din. He tries to win her favor, but keeps getting tripped up by Din who knows she’s not interested. Boba Fett’s POV.)

---------------------------------------------------------------------

There was little more entertaining than watching Djarin snap.

Boba ten years ago would have spat at the very idea that such meagre fare would suit his humor, but he was getting old, man. You had to take what you could get, and Djarin’s bared rage was a sight to behold.

Currently, he was locked in combat with Urro Bojzka. The Urro Bojzka. The one who even Boba had heard of, growing up on Kamino.

Dad had had some pointed feelings about Mr. Bojzka. Mainly, they revolved around how it was unfair that everyone called him an opportunistic traitor when Bojzka continued to exist and thrive in the universe at large, but Dad also had more specific feelings about Bojzka that bordered on jealousy.

Urro Bojzka was said to be the ideal Mandalorian man.

He was big. He was strong. He sounded like he’d smoked six different kinds of spice for forty years, and nothing and no one could take him down.

The cherry on top was that he was notorious for rescuing kids. The man had snatched nearly two hundred up out of smoking ruins and battlefields. A good twenty or thirty had become foundlings and then Mandalorians themselves, and counted among their number now, to Bo-Katan’s absolute glee, was their sweet, precious Din Djarin.

They should have known. Din was the epitome of Mandalorian; it figured that Urro Bojzka himself would have picked him up as a child.

Din however, had little appreciation for this fact beyond that which was only polite. He made it very clear that he’d already thanked Bojzka for taking him out of his childhood hellhole. He’d done that bare minimum and so no one could ask anything more of him.

Bojzka had other plans.

It turned out that Urro Bojzka had a thing for Din’s covert’s Armorer. God, did he have a thing. And not only did he have a thing, but he’d had it for decades.

Apparently, a thousand years ago, when Boba and Din and all the others around them had still been rolling around on dirt floors trying to eat beetles and shit, Bojzka had attempted to court Din’s Armorer. He’d gone as far and wide as a young Mando could. He’d tried flowers, perfume, credits, displays of strength and courage. He’d tried gifts of food and offers of travel. He’d even stooped so low as to read a book.

None of it had gone well for him. And that was probably because Din’s Armorer had recently proven herself to be no less than one of the heiresses of the Katzkai clan.

The Renda Bears. Those people were hard-fucking-core.

When Bo-Katan found out that Din’s ‘Goran’ was, in fact, Nomri Katzkai, the second daughter of Lanlee Katzai and the official apprentice of Fii Katzkai, the imperial Armorer himself, she threw up her hands and declared all endeavors hopeless now.

Din was one of them; he just didn’t know it. And his buir, who had removed herself from her family to be even more hardcore than anyone would have thought possible, didn’t seem overly excited to start explaining shit to him anytime soon.

So here they were. With Din about to kill one of the most famous war heroes in recent Mandalorian history over a crush that wouldn’t quit.

Bojzka smiled at him with dark eyes with scars through both of his eyebrows.

“Just a message,” he lobbied. “One letter.”

Boba would’ve fucked him. Yeah, why not? Just look at him.

“She’s busy,” Din said. “You’ll have to submit it to Eegang Quodo. That’s E-e-g-a—”

“Yeah, see. Here’s the thing, kid. This letter’s gonna be kinda personal, if you catch my drift—”

“Q-u-o—”

“—probably not great for the eyes of anyone who ain’t, you know, in on this whole relationship—”

“—d-o. He’s usually busy, too. So you probably should submit it to Paz, instead. He’ll lose it for you forever. That’s P-a-z—”

Fennec hid a razor-sharp grin behind a clenched fist. She flashed it at Boba.

‘I love him’ she mouthed, pointing at Din’s hiked-up shoulders. Even his cape seemed to have gone stiff in Bojzka’s presence.

“Din, honey. Listen to me,” Bojzka crooned. “I know you’re protective of your mama, but—”

“She’s not my mother. Don’t you fucking dare call her that, you hulking piece of—”

“Ah-ah-ah. You’re not listening. Come on. Chin up. Ears open.”

Bojzka tapped at the bottom of Din’s helmet like a CO with a teenage recruit, and Fennec just about screamed when Din went completely still and silent.

Bo-Katan met Boba’s gaze out of the corner of her eye. She mimed a syringe. Boba shook his head. If this fucker got bit, he deserved whatever infection it brought.

“Atta boy,” Bojzka said to Din’s rigid silence. “Here’s how it is: your mama and me go way, way back. And you know, after your touching reunion the other week, she even went and had a drink with me, and we got to talkin’ and started to reconnect, the old folks do. And I could read her body language, Din-Din. She wants a man. And that man’s me. So instead of actin’ like a child over all this, why don’t we—”

“She wanted Naseem,” Din snapped. “But Naseem died. Twenty years ago, he died. You just wear similar boots.”

Get ‘im, Djarin. Get ‘im.

“I—who?” Bojzka snapped.

“Naseem,” Din repeated like he was an idiot. “Traditional, bantha-sized, green armor. He worked all the time to keep all the kids in the covert fed.”

Bojzka processed this.

“Naseem what?” he asked stiffly.

“He’s dead,” Din said. “And Hajka left. So no. Goran needs neither a man or a woman, and especially not you. What she needs is a break and for Karren to stop fighting people on sight.”

Bojzka backtracked like a champ.

“Karren, that’s her youngest, right?” he asked. “Well, I bet Karren could use some sisters. I bet he’s lonely over there on, uh.”

“Zeffo,” Din gritted out. “And no. He’s not. He has three sisters. One of which is still at the covert, terrorizing him left and right.”

Even Bo-Katan could only empathize so much with Bojzka, war hero or nah.

“Why’re you all up in arms, Din? What’d I do to you?” Bojzka finally asked. “Don’t you want your buir to be happy?”

Din’s shoulders finally came down from his helmet.

“Of course, I do,” he said. “Which is why if you set so much as a toe on Zeffo, I’m taking both of your knees with me to Yavin.”

Any parent would have been proud to have Din as their child. He took family honor to a level that even the Katzkai clan would have had a hard time sniffing at.

He had to have learned this from the wayward heiress. Although, if Boba was honest, he didn’t really think that the wayward heiress was all that wayward.

She’d come to visit Din on Tatooine. She was short and stocky and not terribly interested in the court or anyone outside of Din.

She wasn’t nearly as hostile as Bo-Katan expected either. She didn’t appear to love anything that she was looking at, no, but Din had explained that that was mostly because she wasn’t really a fan of him having become Mand’alor to start with.

When she came to visit, anyways, she was far more interested in getting a good fuss in to give herself peace of mind that Din was okay. That way she could then go back to dealing with the apparently endless series of crises at the new covert.

She was a great parent in that way. She even brought along her youngest, so that he could see his big brother.

That kid was fuckin’ adorable. Maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. Barely, barely, barely in armor. He was strapped into his leathers so tight, he looked like he was stuffed with straw.

He had medium-brown skin with yellow undertones and huge, nearly-black eyes. Coarse black hair poured into his face and curled around his ears—and if he thought he was going to stuff all that in a helmet one day, he had another thing coming.

He bopped after his buir when they entered the palace and stopped occasionally to stare up in awe at the palace’s high ceilings. Upon realizing that he’d lost his escort, he scampered along to catch up and did the whole thing again and again until buir had enough and snatched his hand.

He didn’t like that. He was fourteen-fifteen years old. He was too big for hand-holding, buir.

Never too old to be ignored, though.

“Goraaaaaan.”

“Hush,” the Armorer told him. “Keep up.”

He was handed off to Boba outside Din’s personal quarters, mostly because he was making such a fuss at the Armorer that she began contemplating leaving him at the palace forever. Din intervened and the kid latched onto him instead until Din convinced him that he’d be available talk just as soon as he and their buir were done speaking.

The kid’s name was Karren.

He and Boba were now best friends.

“—so Goran said, ‘I’m not having that idiot in my rooms.’ But then Eegang said, ‘we already have Paz in these rooms,’ and you’re not supposed to laugh, Mr. Fett, but we all did because we’re all stupid. So we had to do like, a thousand chores for eavesdropping.”

“So she’s not into him, then?” Fennec clarified. “He’s really into her, you know.”

“Of course, I know,” Karren lamented. “But Goran’s picky and the last person she was all close with was Hajka and we’re not allowed to talk about her anymore or Din’ll make you do two hundred push-ups while he watches.”

Amazing. Say more about Din’s oldest-child syndrome, little one.

“No, I like Din,” Karren sighed. “Now that Digo’s gone, he’s even nicer.”

Oh?

“What happened to Digo?” Boba asked as Bo-Katan joined them in curiosity.

“Digo’s a jerk is what happened,” Karren huffed. “She wanted Goran to give over the forge and join the elders, but Goran isn’t even that old. So when she said ‘no,’ Digo got mad and said that the only foundling Goran respects is Din. Which is bullshit because everyone knows that Goran has always been the nicest with Digo and Nasif—she made all sorts of excuses for them, Mr. Fett, like when they went out and got caught stealing parts like Jawas, she did four whole hunts to raise their bail. When Din gets in trouble, he takes care of it himself. He doesn’t ask Goran to do that kind of thing. And me and Shimmol just don’t get in that kind of trouble to start with—but no. Digo had to be all ‘if you don’t treat us as equals, then we’re gonna leave and start our own forge.’”

“No kidding,” Fennec said. “So they left?”

“Yeah, both of them ‘cause Nasif does anything Digo tells her to,” Karren said, kicking his feet. “And good riddance.”

Too many sisters, this one had. Boba felt for him.

“So Goran’s still recovering from that betrayal, I take it?” he asked.

Karren frowned and chewed a lip.

“I dunno,” he admitted. “No one tells me anything. I think that Goran’s been more worried about Din than them after all that happened. We thought he got crunched by the jedi—or at least I thought he got crunched. Paz says that Jedis compact Mandalorians into cubes of armor and Din’s got the best armor.”

Do not laugh at the child. Do not laugh at the child.

“I don’t think Jedis crunch Mandalorians,” Bo-Katan said generously, having snuck into the bare antechamber while everyone was distracted with the kid’s story.

“Well, I do,” Karren countered, with zero conception of who he was talking to.

Fennec beamed.

“Do you like this Urro guy?” she asked.

“No,” Karren answered immediately. “He’s sent Eegang four messages and they’re all gross.”

Yep.

It was gonna be a late puberty for this one.

“What makes them gross?” Bo-Katan asked.

“The mush,” Karren said expertly. “Bojzka calls Goran ‘Nomri.’ That’s a bad word at home. No one says that word. Goran is ‘Goran.’ The only people who call her anything else are the elders.”

“And you and your siblings, no?” Bo-Katan asked.

Karran cocked his head at her.

“Yeah, and ‘buir’ I guess, if we aren’t in trouble,” he said.

Bless him.

“Are you in trouble a lot?” Bo-Katan asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. I got a temper or something.”

“Is Din in trouble?”

“With buir? No, not like me and Shimmol. He’s too old to be in that kind of trouble. His trouble’s like ‘help, I fell a hundred feet off a cliff’ kind of trouble. He gives Goran indigestion, but she can’t make him reflect on falling a million feet out of a ship—Eegang says that’s called ‘rehashing trauma.’”

The covert on Zeffo sounded like it was holding itself together through sheer force of will and that alone.

Where did Boba sign up? It sounded like a fantastic experiment to pass the time.

“Are you a foundling, Karren?” Boba asked.

The kid lit up.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been with Goran for five years now. Six in a few months. My dad’s a piece of shit. He killed my mom, and Goran got him arrested for that and for what he did to my auntie.”

Well, fuck. That explained a lot.

“And you like it there—on Zeffo?” Bo-Katan asked.

Karren shrugged.

“It’s cold and wet,” he said. “I liked Nevarro better. Din was home more on Nevarro.”

Awww.

“Aren’t you proud of Din for becoming Mand’alor?” Bo-Katan asked as gently as she could manage.

Karren’s frown eased up finally.

“No,” he said. “Din should just come home. He doesn’t need to be Mand’alor or married to some jedi. He should just come home. It’s stupid; his foundling should have stayed with us from the start. We always have room for more foundlings. I dunno why he had to leave with his foundling at all.”

Bo-Katan sat back and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “If it helps, I think he just wants to come home, too.”

“So let him,” Karren blurted out to her.

Tough tits, kid. That wasn’t how it worked.

“I think we should perhaps focus on one thing at a time,” Bo-Katan said. “What do you think, Fett?”

What did Boba think?

Boba thought that he had a great idea to distract this kid from missing his big brother.

---

Karren was perhaps a little too small still to reach the brakes in the crawler, but you know what? So was Fennec sometimes and she did just fine.

“Gas,” Boba said, pointing. “Neutral. Brake. Park.”

“Gas, neutral, brake, park,” Karren repeated to him with his hands on the wheel and his knobbly wrists peeking out from the gap between his gloves and his leather braces.

Bo-Katan had refused to be present or responsible for this. Fennec had told them to wait while she went and took a shot first. ‘For safety’ she said.

“What’s neutral for?”

“You’re about to tell me,” Boba said, adjusting the rear view mirrors down to kid-height.

The sound of Fennec throwing herself onto the back of the crawler rattled through to their compartment.

“That’s our signal,” Boba said. “You ready to jam?”

“Jam?” Karren asked him.

Hm.

Punch it?

“Punch what?”

The fuck kind of slang did they use at the covert?

“Rock?”

“OH. Yeah, I’m ready.”

There we go. Onward march then.

---

An hour later, Din sighed with Karren whining under his arm.

“There is a reason he’s not trained yet, Fett,” Din said as Karren started chomping on the bunched-up flightsuit in his elbow.

The Armorer pressed both palms into the forehead of her helmet.

The crawler had perhaps seen better days. But it had also seen worse days, and Fennec was still going through little loops of cackling at the memory of having to chase after its open tailgate. Boba didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. The kid had done amazingly well for his first time at the wheel.

“I’m leaving all of you,” Karren grated out, trying miserably to escape Din’s elbow-prison. “I want to be Mr. Fett’s foundling.”

Bless him.

“You don’t,” Din told him forcefully. “Fett can’t handle a foundling.”

Ay, Boba would drink to that. He was happy to be a foundling-sitter and borrower, though.

“Buir,” Karren pleaded.

“You make me tired, child,” the Armorer told him. “Say goodbye to vod.”

“NO.”

Din sighed. The Armorer sighed. Karren, in a beautiful 180, latched onto Din’s ribs again.

“Come hooooooome,” he pleaded with Din.

“I caaaaaaan’t,” Din drawled back at him in a delightfully uncharacteristic tone.

“These people don’t need you. We need you. Shimmol took your bed and if you don’t take it back, she’s gonna keep it.”

Din’s shoulders dropped.

“I told Shimmol that she could take my bunk, Karren,” he said. “I’m not using it—”

“BUT YOU COULD BE.”

Boba took it back. He could take on a foundling. Fuck it, why not? This one was great.

“Come here,” Din said, dragging the kid up to his toes. He knocked the front of his helmet against Karren’s forehead with enough force that the bump was noticeable. That made the kid shut up and stand up straight on his own volition again.

“Soon,” Din told him forcefully. “Behave for buir.”

“Promise,” Karren demanded.

“Ehn.”

“Din, promise.”

“I dunno, kid. I’ve got a husband and all these damn kids to worry about.”

“Bring them. All of them.”

“No room,” Din said without missing a beat. “You have no idea how much space the husband needs to thrive.”

“Well, if you don’t come, then Urro’s gonna try to move in,” Karren snapped.

Din actually paused at that. The Armorer shook her helmet.

“Territorialism becomes neither of you,” she said. “If Urro wishes to join our covert, then we will treat him as we treat any other who wishes to.”

Din’s helmet seemed to squint at her. Karren glared outright.

“I don’t like him,” he told Din.

“Concurred,” Din said.

“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.

“I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.

“Din,” Karren whined.

“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.

“Carry on with your work and give my best to the jedi and the child,” the Armorer said with an air of dismissal. “Come, Karren. Thank you three for looking after him. Apologies for the vehicle. Come.”

Boba missed that kid already.

--------

Bojzka, Boba had to say, really had no shame and he could almost appreciate that. Either that, or Din’s buir was a catch that the rest of them were failing to appreciate.

“How bad can it be?” the guy mused at Din’s stiff, furious hands mere days after the Armorer and Karren’s departure. “It’s a helmet, right? You can take it off with the people who matter, no?”

“We do not take it off,” Din said from between clenched teeth.

“Right, I got that. But there are exceptions for kids and spouses,” Bojzka said. “Or did I misread that part?”

Din was going to start shaking at any minute now. Bo-Katan assigned Boba the task of making sure he didn’t commit War-hero-homicide while she went off to find a calming device. It was only polite. It wasn’t Bojzka’s fault after all that he’d come in right after a tense meeting with a dissident group from Mandalore itself that made even Bo-Katan’s jaw jump.

“I think the rule is more important than the exceptions here,” Boba pointed out on Din’s behalf. “Joining the Children of the Watch isn’t something to take lightly.”

Din pointed at him wordlessly. Bojzka lazily followed the finger and then pointedly ignored Boba.

“What I’m hearing is that if we marry first, nothing changes,” he said.

Din’s index finger curled in with the rest of his knuckles until it was a fist.

“She is not looking to marry,” he said.

“What, so you speak for her now?”

“She is not looking to marry.”

“I can repeat things, too. Wanna see? You don’t speak for Nomri, Din.”

Boba was getting the feeling that Ms. Katzkai sort of did let Din speak for her in these types of situations. He was, after all, her oldest. And it sounded like he was the most loyal of her foundlings, too. If she shared anything personal with anyone besides her second in command, then it was going to be Din. That was just how these things worked.

“Did you call Eegang?” Din asked.

“I did,” Bojzka said. “He’s not especially helpful, I have to say. He keeps sending my missives back to me with grammar corrections.”

No. No. Keep it in, Boba. Keep it stoic.

“Eegang is the second CO at the covert,” Din said. “If you won’t take my word for it, then you’ll take his.”

Bojzka arched a fucked-up eyebrow.

“Eegang, the same guy who is allegedly secretly married to his partner? That Eegang?” he asked.

Din balked. Boba felt like electricity had just rocketed through him.

“Eegang is—” Din started.

“Nomri told me about him,” Bojzka said off-handedly. “She seems to think that he’s bitten off more than he can chew with taking on his last kid.”

“Eegang—”

“Something about baby being blind? Funny, did you not think that she trusted me enough to talk about her people?”

Any more of this and steam would start rising from the lip of Din’s helmet.

Thankfully, Bo-Katan returned with the jedi, AKA the calming device. Skywalker even came equipped with Grogu. They both appeared very confused and innocent, what with Skywalker drowning in his formal robes. They looked like they were going to absorb Grogu at any moment.

A+ distraction work, Kryze. Well done making yourself useful.

“Who’s Eegang?” Skywalker asked.

The line pulled taut across Din’s shoulders began to loosen.

“A comrade,” he said sharply in Bojzka’s direction.

“Is he nice?” Skywalker asked. Grogu chirped at him and resumed trying to dig into his multitude of collars.

“Very nice,” Din confirmed, staring deep into Bojzka’s eyes.

“He’s got foundlings, too?” Skywalker asked.

“Two,” Din confirmed. “Who he adores. Regardless of all challenges.”

Ah. It wasn’t just Eegang Din was protective of. It was the baby. Bojzka had really stuck his foot into that one.

“I’m sure the foundlings are fine,” Bojzka said. “It was just Nomri’s concern that—”

“Stop calling her that in my presence,” Din said. “In fact, let’s drop the whole thing now.”

--------

Boba wanted to meet secretly-married Eegang. He sounded like he had a rich interior life. Din gave him a strong look and said that if the Armorer had left the covert, Eegang would not. One of them had to be there at all times.

Bo-Katan asked what Eegang’s speciality was.

Surprise, surprise: it was diplomacy.

Kryze was now invested. She followed Din around on his heels and suggested that if the Armorer gave words to Eegang to deliver during a formal meeting with the Mand’alor, then Bojzka might finally get the picture that Katzkai wasn’t interested in him.

Din thought about that.

He asked if this was not just a ploy for Boba and Bo-Katan to rally his covert comrades against him.

And it honestly wasn’t until he phrased it like that.

-----------

Eegang was tall, sea-green, and in Bojzka’s face without so much as a by-your-leave.

“Three tests,” he threatened Bojzka with a baby on his hip. “One: stop sending transmissions. Two: get Elder Fayrz to approve your presence. Three: make even one of Goran’s foundlings like you. If you pass all three, your admission will be taken into consideration.”

The baby was very pink with curly hair so pale it was almost white. Its blue-gray eyes moved rapidly back and forth as it cuddled into its buir’s teal armor. Bojzka glanced from it to Eegang’s chipped helmet.

“Where did you find him?” he asked.

“Please give confirmation of your understanding,” Eegang said mechanically.

“He’s kinda cute.”

“Please give confirmation of your understanding.”

“Are you a droid or somethin’?”

“Please give—”

“Alright, alright. Fuck. This is confirmation of my understanding.”

“Excellent. This conversation is over,” Eegang said. “It is your responsibility to contact the elder and earn the approval.”

Bojzka jerked.

“Wait, what?” he said. “How am I supposed to do that if y’all won’t even let me through the door?”

Eegang’s helmet tipped so daintily to the side that Boba could have shed a tear.

“That sounds like a you-problem,” Eegang said.

-----------

Eegang thereafter blocked Bojzka out of his mind and heart. He introduced himself with a dipping motion to Kryze and Boba that probably would have been more dramatic if he’d opted to wear a cape, which he did not. He revealed himself to be exceedingly polite and very fond of Din, though—if the gentle armor tapping and the use of the word ‘little brother’ was anything to go by. Din was usually receptive to gestures like that, Boba had learned, but not this time.

No, no. Din cared not for his ‘big brother.’ He cared only for the attention of Eegang’s baby.

“His name is Mesa,” Eegang explained after Din had kidnapped said baby. He introduced Mesa to Grogu who was stationed nearby, stuffed in the sleepy jedi’s shirt this time. . Grogu waved from Skywalker’s chest, but Mesa didn’t register the motion.

“His grandmother was quite ill, and it was her dying wish to see the child placed into the care of someone trustworthy. I have to admit, though, I may have made the decision a little rashly,” Eegang hummed as he watched Grogu lean as far as he could out of Skywalker’s clothing to try to make contact with his fellow foundling.

“Is he your first?” Bo-Katan asked.

Eegang winced.

“No, uh. I’ve got another,” he said. “She’s a huge fan of certain someones.”

“Me,” Din said without hesitation.

“And Paz,” Eegang said. “Which is a deadly combination.”

“She will be a mighty warrior,” Din informed Mesa and Skywalker. Skywalker twitched awake and didn’t understand anything that was happening. He noticed the baby, cooed, and waved with his gloved hand.

“She’s declared this one goat her nemesis and I cannot—I cannot—get her to just leave it alone,” Eegang said.

“A goat clan in the making,” Din said with approval.

“I’m hearing unnecessary commentary,” Eegang said without looking at him. “Please rephrase or shut up.”

Din seemed to gloat at the scolding. Skywalker glanced between him and his tall, teal comrade. He made his move and carefully came in to extract baby Mesa from Din’s arms to add him to his ever-growing collection. Grogu cooed again, closer now. He offered Mesa a hand, and this time, Mesa perked up and tried to grab at it clumsily.

“You manage the covert in the Armorer’s absence?” Bo-Katan asked Eegang. “You must be very dedicated to the Children of the Watch.”

“Define ‘manage’ and then ‘dedicated,’” Eegang said. “I prefer ‘accidentally charged with responsibility one too many times’ and ‘in too deep to turn back now.’”

“He’s being humble,” Din said. “Eegang has brokered peace between our covert and locals on numerous occasions.”

Eegang’s shoulders started to raise.

“Stop telling people that, they’re going to expect things from me,” he said, then popped back up like flipped switch. “Oh, I totally forgot why I even came. Jedi?”

Skywalker looked up from the conference of baby talk happening in his arms all wide-eyed, as though he’d been caught in the act of stealing imperial property.

“We did not welcome you into our covert,” Eegang said, “You must allow us to present you with a gift of welcome and entry.”

Oho. Very formal. Boba folded his arms and watched Skywalker for his reaction.

“A what?” Skywalker asked.

-------

Bojzka was somewhat justifiably upset at the double standard going on here.

Skywalker was a jedi and yet welcomed into the covert with open arms and no admission requirements. He was, in fact, measured against his will for a set of armor. This was what Din’s buir had actually been after when she’d sent Eegang along to say hi.

Boba found that he enjoyed the reciprocation of ulterior motives that they were getting from Din’s covert. Kryze had never been happier. This was a game that she knew how to play.

“Wait no, hold up,” Bojzka interrupted. “I deserve a chance. Din, at least give me the name of one of your siblings so I can track them down with the elder.”

Din didn’t want to; there were foundlings happening and another meeting soon, but eventually even he had to give the guy something.

An honorable battle required at least two willing bodies.

-----------

Din and Karren’s remaining sibling at the covert’s name was Shimmol. According to Din, Bojzka had next to no chance of gaining her favor because she did not leave the forge and therefore Bojzka had no access to her. Eegang corrected Din and said that Shimmol did, in fact, leave the forge, but never on her own volition.

She was preferred the dark. She hated social interaction.

To circumvent that, the Armorer had refused to induct her into the trade until she proved herself able to coexist with others. But Shimmol was eighteen, that fun age where no incentive or punishment was effective and digging your heels in was far more preferable to doing a damn thing your elders mentioned.

She’s announced that very weekend that she was officially becoming a recluse. Her present aspiration in life was apparently now to become a forge spider.

Bojzka, along with everyone else, had no idea how to receive this information. Kyrze took it upon herself to pat Bojzka on the shoulder and tell him to start with the elder. He might actually have some luck that way.

-------

It took two weeks for Bojzka to re-emerge from whatever hellhole he’d had to walk a tightrope across to locate the covert’s elder Fayrz. He climbed in through Din’s personal quarters’ window and interrupted him and the Jedi in a moment of infrequent intimacy.

The sound of a body being throw over a bannister had a special kind of thud to it. Boba was up on out of his quarters in an instant.

Din flung Bojzka’s helmet after him. Skywalker had the grace to cover Djarin’s face with his shirt and walk him back into the room before anyone caught sight of it, telling Boba and Fennec, who had also emerged from her bed, prepared for drama, that all was fine. There was just a misunderstanding.

His bare torso was covered in scars. Boba found himself somehow surprised and impressed as the jedi unsuccessfully wrangled his furious husband back in the direction of bed.

He and Fennec peeked over the banister to see what had become of Bojzka. He was fine.

Fennec informed Boba that she was claiming part of his bed ‘in case anything else good happened’ since he was closer.

-----

In the morning, Din was in marginally better spirits. Skywalker was to be found at his side, walking backwards and tripping over his cloak every four paces. He truly knew how to hit all Din’s ‘endeared’ buttons. If not to the earnestness and the near-miss of a disaster on the stairs, it would have looked like manipulation.

Bojzka attempted to rectify the peace by breaking into the court through one of the windows high up on the wall outside the second floor’s conference room. This time, to ensure that he had Din’s full attention, he removed the jedi from the equation. Or he tried to anyways.

The jedi, in a split second, decided that, all joking aside, today, he would not be moved. His green saber managed to glow even in the sunlight pouring in to the hall.

“Do not touch,” he ordered, with both feet planted and Din and Grogu securely at his back.

Bojzka cocked his head at the saber pointed right at his nose.

“That’s a fun trick,” he said.

“Do not touch,” Skywalker repeated. “Me, him, or the child.”

“I’ll think about it,” Bojzka said. “Stand down before you regret it.”

“Luke,” Din said testily. “He’s not worth it.”

“Make me regret it,” Skywalker said to Bojzka.

Bojzka’s eyes widened slightly in interest. He used the back of his wrist to try to nudge the saber’s tip away and snapped his hand away from the burn.

“Do you expect me to be afraid of you, jedi?” he asked, trying to play it off.

Skywalker’s eyes reflected the light of his saber.

“Ask him what the glove’s for,” Fennec called from the far hall. Bojzka scoffed. Skywalker didn’t move.

“What happened to your hand?” Bojzka asked.

“My father cut it off,” Skywalker said. “But not to worry, I got a new one. Now step back. Sir.”

Bojzka didn’t move for a long time.

“Does it feel good to walk in the presence of these people?” he asked. “Is it a kink for you the way it was for your master?”

Boba had officially lost the plot. These were old politics now. Kryze would know what Bojzka was talking about, if only she deigned to come out from wherever she was hiding, which she wouldn’t. Of course.

“Does it offend you? My presence here?” Skywalker asked back without emotion.

“It doesn’t,” Bojzka said.

“I’m glad. That’s very convenient for me. I’d feel terrible if you bled out on these tiles,” Skywalker said. “So move.”

And goddamn. The mountain finally yielded to the sky.

-------

Skywalker spent the rest of the day on high alert, with one hand on the hilt of his saber and his full concentration tied up with making fierce eyes into the palace’s corners to keep Bojzka at bay. It was really something to see. Din looked about ready to lay his fingers on his heart and swoon, and that was more than fair. If Boba’s spouse threatened to kill a man for looking at him wrong, he’d be touched too.

Fennec told Boba that she’d protect him from a man the size of a bantha but no larger, and it just didn’t have the same kind of ring.

She apologized and he told her it was fine. It was just in the delivery--and also, he’d murder anyone so blinked at her wrong, too.

She was pleased. Boba was glad they were on the same page.

“Let’s go find Kryze to negotiate,” Fennec said, “I need to know why Old Faithful’s back.”

--------

Kryze’s commanding voice wrang out of Bojzka the real reason for his presence. The truth of the matter was that, War Hero aside, he was having a hell of a time getting the covert elder to grant him a second look.

Din told him that that was the point. Elder Fayrz was like that all day, every day and he’d change for no body, spiritual or physical. He bothered people when he wanted to bother them, and the rest of the time, he liked to pretend he was senile. He only really ever showed up if someone was buying a round or their life was in the balance.

Skywalker said that he sounded a lot like his late master.

Din agreed and said that Elder Fayrz had dedicated his life to two things: the covert children and fungi. Somehow, he made those two interests overlap. Din recalled being twelve and being taken out on a ‘mission’ by the old man who had informed him that he required his nose.

Elder Fayrz had no sense of smell. For a man with a fungi interest, he called this ‘very dangerous business indeed.’

Kryze demanded to know if all the weirdest Mandalorian elders still living had congregated at Din’s cohort which he quickly confirmed. Bojzka, however, demanded to know what would make this elder look him in the eye.

Din told him to go find a deathbed and lay on it.

He remembered belatedly to add ‘nearby Elder Fayrz’ to that statement.

----------

After about a month of this kind of back and forth, the Armorer decided that she’d had enough. She did not come to the Dune Sea. She sent a missive to Din informing him that he was coming home.

‘To talk,’ she said.

Boba vaguely remembered Karren saying something along the lines of ‘Din doesn’t get into trouble anymore,’ and was pleased to find that that was not the case. Din already knew what awaited him at his home covert and anyone with slightly more than a rock for a brain could see that it wasn’t going to be hugs and kisses.

Bojzka volunteered to accompany Din as a guard when the jedi made himself conveniently unavailable. Kryze and Boba flipped a coin while Din resisted stabbing him, and of course Boba won. Kryze flipped it again to be sure, and Boba told her sweetly that he’d send her a postcard.

“Have fun with the schmucks lounging around this place,” he gloated at Bo-Katan’s rolling shoulders.

She gave him two naughty fingers.

Whatever, girl. Sucks to suck. Bye, bye, now. Come on, Fennec. There’s adventure to be had.

---------

It was a ways to the new covert on Zeffo. Several hours, in fact, many of which were spent playing ‘I spy’ with Fennec while Bojzka gritted his teeth and asked them if they were always like this.

Fennec got Din to join in at that comment.

Eventually they ran out of white dwarfs and capes to identify and settled down into silence until the ship declared landing to be imminent.

Karren remembered Boba and the second he set foot inside the curiously constructed covert entrance. The kid came hurtling up to tackle him and wrap arms around his middle. It was endearing. Boba checked the doors to see if a guard would notice a kidnapping.

Fennec reminded him of child-based expenses. Her wisdom was invaluable as usual.

Karren scrambled away from Boba and, for a moment, made like he was going to attach himself to Din’s armor, but instead wriggled past Din to go tearing down the hallway. He skidded, crashed, and then clambered into a different room at the dead end of what appeared to be a row of barracks. Seconds later, Eegang exploded from one of the rooms adjacent wearing no armor but his helmet. He flung himself through the same doorway Karren had vanished through.

Din tilted his head.

“It’s fine,” a voice said behind them.

Their small party turned to see a woman wearing a cool purple helmet with only her flakvest on. Eegang’s pale baby was sat on her hip, pawing at her chest, trying to find purchase in the vest.

“Sotra,” Din greeted.

“Welcome back, brat-child,” Sotra said. “We missed you.”

This had to be Eegang’s secret-wife; unless she’d stolen that gurgling foundling in the night or something.

“Electrical?” Din asked, pointing at the far room.

“Loft,” Sotra said. “There’s hay, so of course all the kids have to be in it.”

“Just hay?” Din asked.

“And goats,” Sotra said.

Ah.

“We raise goats now?” Din asked.

“Oh, no, no,” Sotra said, sashaying past him towards the room her husband had abandoned, “It’s either coexistence or war, I’m afraid. The forge is past the hangar, keep going through the kitchens. Voxie knows you’re here—he’s awake, by the way. Welcome home, Din.”

“Thanks,” Din said. “This is my advisor, Boba Fett and our friend Fennec.”

Sotra splayed her whole, tall body into the doorway of her and Eegang’s barracks just as a fearsome battle cry sounded out on the other side.

“Hi,” she said.

“RELEASE ME,” a child in front of her about hip-height with serious bedhead shrieked in Mando’a.

Fennec’s eyebrows launched up to her forehead. Boba felt like he needed to record this so that Kryze understood what she was missing.

“Vod Din is home,” Sotra told the child.

“DIN.”

“Shhhh.”

“RELEASE M—mmf.”

“Shhhhh. It’s quiet time,” Sotra said with her free hand over the child’s mouth. “We’re being quiet.”

Din chuckled.

“Hey, Samo,” he said.

Samo let loose an ear-piercing scream behind her buir’s hand and ducked under Sotra’s legs. She ran at Din like there was a bomb behind her. Din caught her and swung her up to perch on his arm and she kicked relentless at his tassets in excitement.

“Shhh,” Din said. “People are sleeping—”

“YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE—”

Doors started opening all down the line of barracks. A few curious, hazy, and lopsided helmets poked out from some of them, and from others, calls of ‘EYYYYYYY’ and chats ‘ALL HAIL THE MAND’ALOR’ started up, to Din’s immediate mortification.

This, Boba was delighted to realize, was not a cry of honor.

These half-asleep fuckers had been waiting months to embarrass Din. And he’d known that this would happen.

“Be quiet,” Din snapped all around him. “The elders are sleeping, you’re going to—”

“Well, well, well, look who’s finally home,” a taunting voice rang out on top of the rush. “If it isn’t the Mand’alor himself.”

“Paz,” Din sighed. “Not now.”

“When could there possibly be a better time, your liege?” a huge Mandalorian wearing full blue armor despite the early hour drawled from the doorway he’d attempted to casually lean in. Samo’s braids flew as her round cheeks snapped his way.

“Paz, don’t be mean,” she told him from atop Din’s arm. “Or it’ll be to the goats with ya.”

“Fuck me, the goats, what ever will I do?” Paz scoffed.

“BUIR, PAZ SAID A BAD WORD.”

“I heard him,” Sotra said scathingly, right at Paz’s visor.

“To the goats,” Paz’s neighbor hissed at him.

The hissing was taken up just as quickly as the earlier ‘all hails’ had been. Paz told everyone to shut up and mind their own asses. He was publicly booed until Eegang emerged from the loft room with Karren stuffed under an arm and demanded to know why people were congregating in the halls. He reminded everyone that that shit was a fire hazard, and in doing so, his tone changed completely from easy-going to Commanding Officer and the effect was immediate.

People scurried back into their rooms like frightened mice until there wasn’t a single open door left in the whole line.

Eegang huffed and traded Karren to Din for his daughter. Samo happily climbed onto his shoulders and held onto his chin. Karren grinned mischievously up at her, winked, and then thumbed back to the goat loft.

“Not the welcome you deserved, but the one you got. I’m afraid nothing has changed here,” Eegang told Din compassionately, wrapping his fingers around Samo’s ankles. “I see you brought friends.”

“And foe,” Din said, gesturing at Bojzka who beamed.

Eegang’s visor contained a grimace that would otherwise have wracked his whole body.

“You got in,” he deadpanned.

“Sure did,” Bojzka said. “Lovely place you have here.”

And honestly? Yeah. It sort of was. Maybe a little ramshackle, what with all the scaffolding and haphazard support beams thrown into the walls to keep the wet earth above ground from crushing everyone below it, but for all the unsteadiness, it was oozing with comradery. Family.

Behind each of those doors was a little unit like Eegang and Sotra’s or perhaps a tired body, barely extracted from its boots, taking comfort in this honeycomb of tunnels and rooms.

Boba couldn’t help but wonder how he and Dad would have done in a place like this.

“We try,” Eegang said flatly. “I’ll let the Armorer deal with you herself—if she’s awake, I mean. Otherwise, you’re condemned to Shimmol. I’m going back to sleep. Vok is waiting for you, keep going straight through the kitchens, Din.”

“Thank you,” Din said. “Sleep well, Vod.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, Monster. No goats for now.”

Samo waved at Boba and Fennec with a smile as bright as the sun. She ducked expertly as Eegang passed through the doorway to their quarters. He closed the door behind them.

------

“You don’t see families like that much anymore,” Bojzka hummed as Din led their troop down the hallways, through a series of ladders into a kitchen and then from there into a surprisingly neat, up-to-date hangar with concrete floorings. Six crafts were parked inside, tucked into the tight space like fish in a barrel.

“We have a few,” Din said. “I don’t know how many people are living here now, though.”

Given the size of the place? Maybe fifty or so, if Boba had to take a guess. There had been several sets of boots lining the wall outside the barrack doors.

Din picked his way through the crafts to two tarps covered in piles of spare, rusting, and grease-covered parts. At the end of the aisle between the tarps was a rectangle bordered by wooden benches and to the left of that was a little box that a mechanic presumably operated from. The box, however, had no windows. Its door was slightly ajar.

Din knocked and a snort and a slurp answered him.

“Jus’ a mo,” a thick voice said inside.

Fennec looked at Boba with intrigue.

“Tool gnome,” she said.

No, friend. Just a grease-monkey.

“Tool gnome,” Fennec insisted.

The door opened and a man at least six feet, two inches peered out of it.

“Tool giant,” Fennec amended in a whisper.

“Is that you, Din?” the mechanic asked. His helmet was rusty red and gray. Its visor had a yellow tint to it.

“It is,” Din said. “It’s been a while, Vok. These are my—”

“Forget them. Goran told me what you did to Razor.”

Din cringed.

“I—”

“AH. No. I don’t wanna hear it,” Vok said. “I just—I’m glad you’re safe, but you ain’t touching any more of my children, you hear me, boy?”

Din sunk into his shoulders in shame.

“I hear you,” he said.

“You’re damn right you do,” Vok said. “Man, I had a whole speech written out and shit, and here you are, early as the fuckin’ dawn. Did you miss Paz?”

“We did not,” Din said.

“I tried to have him do an inventory, I did,” Vok said sympathetically. “But he wasn’t havin’ it. Took an IOU and everything.”

Din sighed.

“Thanks for trying,” he said. “Is the forge...?”

“That way,” Vok said, gesturing to the far end of the hangar, where a series of scaffolding led up to a dark hole in the wall. “Mind your step. Stairs are next on my list. Who’re your friends?”

Din introduced them. Vok considered Fennec and after a moment of thought, saluted her. She tipped her jaw to the side and gave him a once-over.

“Din’s got my number if you’re not busy,” Vok said.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Fennec said.

“I hope you do, my darlin’. You? Boj-whatever? I heard about you. You can go fuck yourself.”

“Thanks, Vok, we’re going now,” Din intervened.

----------

Fennec said nothing on the way up the scaffolding. She didn’t need to. Boba applauded her.

---------

The forge was the least finished part of the covert, and Boba could respect the Armorer’s dedication to looking after the flock before her own needs. Not that the forge wasn’t a comfortable place. Upon entry, Bojzka whistled at all the equipment inside. There were steel beams crossing in hatches along the ceiling. It appeared as though someone was working on a ventilation mechanism up there. Ropes and pipes hung down from the beams as though a pulley system had been recently removed.

The forge itself was a huge circular structure with a high wall around its exterior. It was built of a slick-looking black material. There were three water troughs set up in a line behind it and two rudimentary wood blocks with anvils set on them. Benches littered with iron tools sat next to the anvils.

Din appeared very at home in this place, despite not having even been in it. He wove around the accoutrements of the room towards a wooden door that had been placed on hinges on the far side like an afterthought.

He knocked.

“We don’ want any,” a sleepy woman’s voice drawled.

Boba jumped as a something brushed his elbow and discovered that Karren had followed them all the way down to the forge. His soft boots had hidden his footsteps, but, like Din, he was now in a place that he knew like the back of his hand. Din grabbed the scruff of his neck as he went for the door with both hands.

“You’re supposed to be in the nursery,” Din told him. “Shoo.”

“Shimmol, Din’s home,” Karren said through the door. “Goran, Din’s home.”

Very cute. Karren wanted to be the one to shared the news. Din pulled him back as shuffling started up on the other side of the wooden door.

It opened to reveal a fluorescent pink helmet with floral patterns painted down the edges in white.

“Din?” the young woman, who could only be Shimmol, asked.

Din’s brain stuttered.

“Uh?” he said.

Shimmol’s flightsuit was once white, but it was burned and smudged to gray all over. Her heavy gloves were half-burnt on both hands, too. She surged forward into Din’s chestplate. Din hugged her back awkwardly.

“Hello, sister,” he said. “This is, uh.”

“Do you like it?” Shimmol asked, pulling away from him to touch the edges of her helmet. “I thought it was cute. Wait til you see the pauldrons. They match.”

“They’re hideous,” Karren said.

“Did anyone ask you?” Shimmol flung at him. “No, I didn’t think so. Get gone, womp-rat.”

Wow. No wonder Karren was desperate for Din’s attention.

“I’m not a womp-rat,” Karren said. “I’m a Tooka. Goran said so.”

“You know, what you actually are is a ‘nuisance,’ so it doesn’t matter what—”

“Children.”

And lo and behold. The lady herself. Gold helmet and everything.

“Din,” the Armorer said, placing a hand on Shimmol’s side to move her. “Welcome home.”

Din accepted the helmet touch with grace.

“Bojzka,” the Armorer said next. “I didn’t expect to see you in my home so soon, or at all.”

Bojzka beamed.

“You’ve grown a beard,” the Armorer noted. “It does not become you.”

Boba coughed into his elbow to hide the bark of laughter screaming to escape his throat. Fennec thumped at his back.

“Let’s move somewhere with more light,” the Armorer said. “Karren, Shimmol. You’re dismissed for the next hour. Go eat breakfast.”

“But—” Shimmol started.

“Up, up, up,” Karren chanted, getting behind her and shoving hands into the small of her back. “It’s people-time.”

“Leave it. I hate people-time,” Shimmol said. “I thrive on darkness. It sustains me better than food.”

Din looked desperately into the Armorer’s helmet. The Armorer ignored him and told Shimmol that she knew this to false and to stop whining. Upstairs, now.

The kids relented and left the forge. Din pointed after them.

“I know,” the Armorer said. “Let her work through it.”

Din pointed even more insistently.

“No, no. It’s true,” Bojzka said. “Mine went through the same thing.”

--------

The Armorer sat them all down at a ‘u’ shape of benches on the far side of the forge. She turned on some overhead lights. They lit up the forge and threw its equipment’s shadows harshly against the floor.

“Thank you for coming,” she said lightly. “It takes a long time to get to Zeffo, even in the Outer Rim.”

“It suits you,” Bojzka flirted.

“It does not,” the Armorer countered unrepentantly. “And your flattery remains aggravating.”

Bojzka didn’t seem to process the meaning behind those words, too busy he was with basking in the Armorer’s presence. She ignored him to turn to Din.

“Eegang tells me that you have been aggressive towards Bojzka, ad’ika, is this true?”

Din hunkered down into his shoulders. He didn’t want to answer. The Armorer didn’t make him.

“This is unnecessary,” she said. “Bojzka does not bother me.”

Bojzka rounded a gloating grin at Din.

“He is delusional, but I’m afraid that head trauma does this over time,” the Armorer said lightly. “There is no need to defend my honor—I’ve already had this conversation with Eegang, so know that it is not only you who I’ve spoken to about this. And Bojzka.”

“Yes, dear?” Bojzka hummed.

“I would appreciate it if you ceased in antagonizing my foundling and second.”

“I’m not trying to, Nomri.”

“I know,” the Armorer said. “And that is where I believe this tension arises from. Din, you and your advisor may leave. I’ll handle this. In future, know that it is not your place to speak on these matters in my stead, yes?”

“Yes, Goran,” Din mumbled.

The Armorer waited.

“Buir,” Din corrected.

“Thank you. The last thing I need is the Mand’alor becoming invested in old-standing relationships. You may go.”

Din stood and Boba and Fennec stood with him.

“He is not Naseem,” Din said right at the doorway.

The Armorer’s helmet turned slowly his way.

“No one will ever be Naseem,” she said. “It’s okay. Go.”

-----------

Boba need the full story on this Naseem guy approximately yesterday, but all he had at his disposal in the kitchens where he, Din, and Fennec had been banished was a collection of foundlings all staring up at their party looking guilty as hell.

In the midst of their group was a ten-year-old holding a glass jug absolutely brimming with frogs.

Boba had never seen this many foundlings together at once before, and he had to say: these traditionalists knew exactly what they were doing. There was nothing quite like a whole mass of youths to shift the mood.

The kids made a break for it.

Fennec was the fastest of all of them, but even she was not as fast as the bodies that popped their heads out of the rattling back room and launched themselves without warning over the few rows of tables set out in the main space.

Din’s covert collectively looked after the little ones, he explained when one of these bodies returned with the wrist of a shrieking Twi’lek child in their grip. The shrieking cut off when the nurse dropped down into a crouch and flattened both of the child’s hands against their helmet so that they left splotchy prints behind.

Two of the folks who filed back into the room covered in mud did not wear helmets. Din didn’t recognize them until they spoke and said their names. They’d removed their helmets back on Nevarro, apparently, and they had not to put them back on. Now, they wore veils and headscarves—neither of them comfortable with their whole heads and faces on display.

One of these was a woman named Madda. She saw Din’s helmet and froze by one of the long tables.

“Din, I’m so glad you returned,” she said with hitching breath. And then she took her newly-acquired jug of frogs and went tearing back down the hallway towards the covert’s main entrance. Din watched after her, confused.

“Is the transition difficult?” he asked one of the other Mandalorians next to him.

Their helmet showed zero emotion, and yet Boba gleaned from it everything he needed to know. He put a palm on his forehead.

“Djarin, come here,” he said.

-------------

Din chased after Madda to apologize for fucking up what was probably a years-long infatuation at this point. Fennec watched after him with a sly grin. But the Mandalorian with the flat helmet turned to Boba with far more open shoulders.

“You got through to him like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

“It’s his secret talent,” Fennec told her.

“What was your name?” the Mandalorian asked.

“Boba Fett,” Boba said. “And yours?”

“Jhuvac.”

“Nice to meet you,” Boba said politely.

“Aren’t you the clone-guy?”

Welp.

“I prefer ‘Fett,’” Boba said.

“Nah, I feel that,” Jhuvac said, tossing her scarf over her shoulder. “Paz calls you the ‘clone-guy’ is all. That shit’s wild, by the way. But you can’t help your dad’s decision now can you?”

What was this? Understanding? From a traditionalist? Kryze would lose her shit.

“I can’t, although everything after that was totally me,” Boba said.

Jhuvac glanced back at him.

“Including the Solo stuff?” she asked.

Boba lifted a brow.

“Is there something you would like to know?” he asked.

“No,” Jhuvac said. “I know everything I need to. But you know what’ll make Vok’s life miserable?”

---------

The mechanic was a huge fan of Han Solo, and he had a list of reasons why Boba should cease hunting the man about as long as one of his lanky arms. He listed them out one by one in his hangar full of metal scrap. Jhuvac was very correct when she said that the mere mention of Solo meeting his maker would cause Vok immense misery. Boba could see how it could be entertaining.

Fennec made it even more entertaining by poking holes in each of Vok’s carefully laid out arguments.

He kept asking her why she was hurting him like this. Was this a domination kink?

Fennec asked him if he wanted it to be.

Vok walked it all back and told her to do her worst.

Jhuvac decided that she suddenly had other things to do and invited Boba to accompany her on these things. Boba assented and left Fennec to her business.

----------

In the end, Boba found himself outside in a group huddle with a handful of covert people, two with no helmets, watching the feud between the foundlings and the local wildlife. The covert, he learned, broadly did not like Zeffo. They hated how wet it was. They hated how cold it was. 90% of them had grown up in desert climates, the remaining 10% in ice climates.

Zeffo, as far as they were concerned, was a backwater hellhole that they’d had little choice in selecting.

“It was this or breaking up and forming two coverts,” Sotra explained, removing Mesa’s captured snail from his face area for the third time. She gave the snail to the guy next to her who got up and took it down to the edge of the nearby river. He stooped to set it in the grass, then froze in shock when a fish’s wide mouth erupted from the water and encapsulated his whole glove.

It left the glove wet and empty.

“But you didn’t want to do that?” Boba asked.

“No, if we separated, it would be Eegang at the head of the new covert,” Sotra said. “And that’s just not in the cards for us right now.”

Gotcha.

“The children didn’t want to be separated either,” one of the Mandalorians with no helmet said. “Goran gave them the option, but things were frantic, you know. They cling to each other when they’re young like this.”

More than understandably, in Boba’s humble and correct opinion.

“What do you all think of Bojzka?” Boba asked them.

“Who?”

“The bull with no helmet? Beard?” someone said.

“The one trying to court the Armorer?” Sotra asked.

Everyone clambered back onto the same page in the face of this descriptor.

“He’s supposed to be some kind of hero,” Jhuvac said. “But I dunno, man. He seems a little, uh.”

“Goran’s too good for him,” Sotra interjected simply. “Imagine stooping so low after a life of respect and service.”

“He’s not ugly,” the Mandalorian who’d lost the snail pointed out. “I’d bang him.”

“You’re not a good bar, Ban.”

“I could be.”

“You’re the lowest bar, Ban.”

“Can’t be disappointed if your expectations on the floor.”

“Go bang him for Goran then,” Jhuvac said. “I can’t tell if she thinks he’s kinda cute or if she wants to stab him in the heart.”

“For the good of the covert, I will endure this hardship,” Ban said.

He was unceremoniously yanked back down when he started to stand.

“Din mentioned some guy named ‘Naseem?’” Boba asked.

The name alone sent the group into titters.

“Naseem was so nice.”

“Naseem was great, you have no idea. So respectful.”

“He wanted to take Din on so bad, it was almost heartbreaking. He and Goran were perfect for each other. He was so happy around her; I don’t think he ever talked in front of anyone else.”

“God, when he died, I cried so hard. I cried for days.”

“Same.”

“Kind of a tough reputation to beat, then?” Boba asked.

“Oh definitely,” Jhuvac said. “I mean, there was Hajka after him, but she was just so explosive. Like, she made Goran laugh a lot, I remember that, but she was kinda awkward, too. There was a battle on her home planet and she left everyone here to defend what was left of her people.”

“Goran collects the awkward ones, they’re her favorite,” Sotra said.

“You can’t judge her, you collect Eegangs,” Ban pointed out.

“There is only one Eegang.”

“Girl, we know.”

There was a pause while Sotra handed off her child so that she could beat the shit out of Ban on the lumpy grass. Jhuvac handed Mesa over Boba’s lap to the quiet person at his right. They took the baby without question and laid him on their chest.

“Where did you grow up, Boba?” Jhuvac asked. “Sorry, Fett. Do you like Fett?”

Boba was taken aback. It had been ages since someone had called him by his first name—and a Mandalorian no less.

“Boba is fine. I grew up on Kamino,” he said.

“With a covert?”

No, no covert. No anyone, really. Boba was what people in white coats tended to call ‘under-socialized.’

“That’s sad,” Jhuvac said. “It must have been lonely.”

It was, actually. Especially after Dad had died.

“That’s so sad, I’m gonna cry,” Ban said. “Join our covert.”

All helmets and eyes rounded on Boba and he felt like his collar was suddenly digging into his neck. He shook his head.

“I’m not really a Mandalorian,” he said. “It’s not right—”

“Bullshit.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Jhuvac, let ‘im talk.”

“No, that’s bullshit. Listen, Din has ‘don’t trust people’ syndrome. If he trusts you enough to bring you with him here, then you’re Mandalorian enough for us,” Jhuvac said. “And anyways, being a Mandalorian is about what you do, not who you are. It doesn’t matter if you’re clone-guy so long as you follow the Creed in a more or less northernly direction.”

Boba stared at her and realized that everyone was staring at him again. He cleared his throat but found that he didn’t have any words trapped back there like he’d thought.

“Or easternly,” Ban offered to break the awkwardness.

There were still no words on Boba’s tongue. He struggled to say at least something.

“I—th—that’s kind of you,” he eventually managed. “I don’t think I could cut it here, but that’s really kind of you.”

The Mandalorians exchanged looks and shrugs.

“Know that the offer stands if you feel any pull towards it later,” Sotra said. “We have a number of reformed who converted and who move in and out of our covert. Not recently, but when we were children, there were more. Goran, too, was once a reformed Mandalorian.”

“My buir, too,” Jhuvac added.

“My ba-buir was reformed,” Ban said. “But she might have caused a public riot. Or two. Or three.”

“Speaking of which,” Sotra said. “Elder Fayrz has emerged from his cave.”

“I’ll get him,” Jhuvac sighed.

Boba frowned and looked from them out to the hill the foundlings had selected to gossip on. A Mandalorian in black and white with a green cape was, indeed, now kneeling among them. Every face was turned towards him in wonder.

“I’ve heard of this guy. He looks fun,” he noted.

At least one hand from every body came up to clutch at their face.

“That’s exactly the problem,” Ban said.

------

Din rejoined Boba in the midst of Elder Fayrz’s attempt to recruit him into the covert. He somehow knew Dad. That in itself was a little disarming. At first, Boba hadn’t believe that the elder was speaking the truth, but then he started up with alarmingly specific training corp numbers and mentioned off-handedly that he used to work in the corps, training kids from six to fourteen.

It made sense now why, in old age, he was considered the most dangerous person in the covert to have around the foundlings.

Grandpa was a serial spoil-er and mischief-instigator. The children saw in him everything they wanted out of life and were loathe to be separated from their most favorite old man.

Din got between him and Boba and informed the Elder that he’d just gotten married.

The Elder’s attentions went rocketing in the opposite direction. He wanted pictures, he wanted to know all about the reception, he wanted to know why Din hadn’t brought his partner home with him, what color their armor was, where they were presently based—the whole barrel of spotchka.

Boba appreciated the save.

He also appreciated the moment when the Elder fully realized that Din had, in fact, married a real jedi.

“YOU STUPID BOY.”

There it was.

The children bustled and whispered.

“This is what happens when we do not teach them to read—where is your buir? I told her, I told her that you needed more lessons. Always with the dogs, I knew it would have some effect—”

Din couldn’t even argue. He and Kryze had been over the very same deficit about sixty times. If they were lucky, Bo-Katan gave him a day or two off in between scoldings.

While the old man was outraged, Din signaled to Boba that they would be leaving soon.

--------

Bojzka joined Boba, Din, and Fennec at the ramp of their ship about ten minutes late. The Armorer personally showed him out of the covert and told him to return only if the galaxy began to collapse in on itself. She was at least cordial about it, which, in hindsight, was probably why Bojzka was having a hard time reading the glaring ‘please desist’ sign flickering over her head.

“Be safe,” she told Din while Karren made sad sounds behind her.

“Will do,” Din said. “Next time, I’ll see if Luke will come.”

“We would like to have him,” the Armorer said.

She dipped her helmet to Boba and Fennec and they returned the gesture.

“I hope you were well-received by the others,” she said. “Bojzka, good bye.”

“Talk to you later,” Bojzka hummed.

“We shall not,” the Armorer said.

---------

Back in the Dune Sea, Kryze was waiting in one of the conference rooms. Din avoided her and all her probing questions. Boba did not. He was in a sharing sort of mood and Fennec had a ‘thanks for the lay’ message to compose to Mr. Vok.

Kryze crossed her legs and gestured for him to join her at the table.

He did and crossed his legs right back.

“So?” she asked.

“Shocking peaceful,” Boba said. “Violent mostly towards their own members. Tried to recruit me at least three times.”

Kryze’s eyebrows did a little dance.

“Surprising,” she said.

“Not very,” Boba corrected. “Din is one of the more reserved members. He resembles his buir more than I expected.”

“And Bojzka?” Kryze asked.

“Soundly rejected, but somehow optimistic about it,” Boba said. “The good news is that Din’s been forbidden from trying to kill him.”

“That is good news,” Kryze agreed.

There was a long pause.

“Are you thinking about it? Joining, I mean?” Kryze asked.

“No,” Boba said, “But it is nice to occasionally be around Mandalorians who don’t have sticks up their asses.”

“Unicorns,” Kryze said.

“A whole covert of them,” Boba told her with a smirk. “Maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s you all.”

“I beg to differ,” Kryze said. “If the issue is resolved, then I suppose we’ll have to move back on to official business.”

That was no fun.

“Why is Fennec so smug?”

Oh, that was more fun. Sit back down, Lady. This is going to be a bawdy one.

#the mandalorian #the armorer #din djarin #boba fett #dinluke #ficlet #don't mind me I just need answers #and in their absence I make them myself

178 notes · View notes

psychovigilantewrites · 5 years ago

Text

Don’t Call Me That Pt. 2

Wordcount: 10,129

A/N: I thought this part 2 would total up to 10k words, but when it hit 10k, I realised that I was only about 65 percent done. So based on the responses I got from tumblr, I decided to publish this first and then conclude the story later on!

TW: mentions of r*pe, mentions of torture, mentions of drugging someone (??) , mental breakdowns, vulnerability, descriptions of anxiety

Also, HERE’S MY FAV MEMES!! I’m so sorry that I can’t tag respective meme creators, because I saved them on my phone and some of them I forgot to include your usernames!! I’M SO SORRY!!! And honest to god is wear there were more but i must have lost them im so sorry im so incompetent lmao

memeesss

You glanced at your phone.

It had already been a week in Hawaii with your friends, and Jason still hadn’t texted you.

Well, you should have expected it, really. Jason was a traumatised, mentally ill man who had been locked away for two years.

Of course he wouldn’t text you first.

You had contemplated texting him over the past few days, typing in an array of messages ranging from a simple “hey” to a whole paragraph, and deleting all of it without hitting send. Did he even switch the phone on? Was he surfing the internet? Or was the phone still there on the shelf where you had left it.

It was driving you crazy.

“Do you have a boyfriend we don’t know about?” a voice called.

You looked up and squinted at the man who was standing up, looking down at you. You were sitting on the beach, a little further away from the ocean where your friends were.

“What are you talking about?” you asked as Alex plopped down next to you.

“You’ve been fidgety the whole time,” he pointed out, combing back his dark shoulder length hair with his fingers, getting sand in them. “We’re on a private beach, and you’ve been fussing over your phone. Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” you grumbled truthfully.

“The girls have been gossiping,” he gestured to the two other girls playing in the water. Your closest friends. It was four of you in that inseparable group.

“Of course they have,” you groaned, “Tell them to SAY IT TO MY FACE, COWARDS!”

You shouted at them, earning you grins and middle fingers from the distance.

“They’re saying you’re in love with someone,” he chuckled, “But they always say stupid shit like that without any evidence. But sometimes, a girl’s intuition is just right, ya know?”

“Stop beating around the bush, Alex,” you rolled your eyes at him despite knowing he couldn’t see past your sunglasses. “No, I’m not in love. I’m just waiting for a text that might never come.”

“Why don’t you text him first?”

“Because it’s not as simple as that!” you flailed your arms, “He’s… complicated. I can’t just text him anything.”

“Girl, unless he’s Mr. Nottingham, or related to you, then it really isn’t that complicated,” he joked.

“Ugh,” you groaned again, falling back onto the cloth you spread out. “Fine. I’ll text him.”

“Atta girl,” Alex grinned, “I’m gonna head back in the water. Join us after. Please?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved.

Opening the text window for what had to be the thirtieth time, you finally decided to text him.

You: Miss me yet?

Staring intently at the small ‘sent’ below your message bubble, you waited for it to turn to ‘delivered’.

“Yes!” you hissed. It meant that Jason had indeed switched on the phone.

But after twenty minutes you realised that it didn’t matter if Jason switched on the phone if he didn’t want to talk to you. Cursing to yourself, you decided to join your friends in the water, hoping it’ll distract you from checking your phone every five minutes for a text message that might never come.

After an hour of actually spending time with your friends, all four of you returned to the villa, your mood elevated. Checking your phone, you could have jumped for joy when you saw not one, but four consecutive texts in a row.

Jason: Duck off. Jason: What the duck Jason: WHY CANT I SAY DUCK Jason: I DUCKING HATE THIS

You couldn’t let out a string of giggles.

“Oooh, lover boy texted you back, huh?” Alex peeked over your shoulder. “Gimme, I wanna mess with him.”

He snatched your phone from your hands, surprisingly swift and smooth for a civilian, raising it way above his head so you couldn’t reach it and opened the camera.

“Alex-!”

He threw his other arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his bare chest, crushing you before you could tackle him down. He snapped a picture and sent it.

You froze in horror.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” you yelled.

“Relax, I was just messing around,” he gave your phone back to you.

“You don’t- you don’t understand, you fucking asshole!” you screamed.

“I- I’m sorry,” Alex stuttered, surprised by your reaction. “I was just-”

“Fuck off!” you snapped.

Panicking, you saw the little notification below the picture turning from Received to Read.

No. No, no, no, no.

This was bad.

You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason by sending him photos of your activities, thinking that he might react badly to the sudden surplus of familiarity and sense of being close to someone. Now you were worried that he might start to push you away in fear, reverting back to how he was before, and months of progress would have been all for nothing.

He would probably start swearing at you, or worse- switch off the phone and reject any form of communication completely. You hurriedly texted a reply.

You: I’m so sorry! I didn’t send that, my friend was just messing around.

Expecting the worst, you braced yourself for the inevitable. Instead, he sent you:

Jason: Who the hell is that guy?? Jason: Why are you in your underwear??

Your mouth hung open as you stared in shock at the screen. Because you took so long to recover from the shock, he sent you another message.

Jason: ???

Snapping out of it, you texted back.

You: That’s just my friend. Sorry about that! And I’m not in my underwear, it’s a bikini! I’m in Hawaii.

You waited for him to reply, but ten minutes of you sitting anxiously on the turquoise sofa in the middle of the villa listening to the waves of the beach outside from the open doors passed by, and he still hadn’t.

Perhaps he’s busy- wait. There’s no way Jason would be busy. You tried to coax him into a conversation.

You: You can turn off your autocorrect if you want to swear without hassle. Go to your Keyboard settings.

You plopped your phone on the empty seat next to you and dried your hair.

“Ugh, come on!” complained Natalie, fully clothed and washed, walking towards the open concept kitchen from her room. “You’re getting sand everywhere!”

“Woops, my bad,” you grinned.

“There’s a shower outside on the porch for a reason you know,” she flipped her blond beach waves at you, looking through the fridge.

Alex stood quietly at the kitchen island, now scared to say anything.

You rolled your eyes. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Okay, I promise!” he grinned.

Ding.

Jason: fuck. fuck. fucking fuck. Jason: found it. You: Proud of you, man.

You went to your room and showered, then dried off and put on fresh clothes while waiting for Jason to reply.

Of course, he never did.

Groaning, you had to remind yourself that he was not used to human interaction, and texting would come unnaturally to him. Which meant that you had to be the one to keep the conversation going.

You: Do anything interesting since I left?

You saw him typing almost immediately this time.

Jason: no.

Of course not.

You: Have you been eating properly? Jason: yeah.

God, it was so difficult. You were in the middle of typing something when he replied again.

Jason: yoire not my mom Jason: yoire Jason: YOIRE Jason: FUCK WHY CANR I TYPE

You felt guilty for laughing, but you did anyway.

You: Now that you switched off autocorrect, it won’t correct your typos and misspells anymore. Jason: i fucking knw that. Ive been gone for two yeard not twenty. You: Then why do you sound like a grandpa? Jason: BECAISE YOU GAVE ME A FUCKINF IPHONE!! I USED AN ANDROID!!

Now you were really laughing out loud, so you sent him a GIF of a woman rolling her eyes.

Jason: wtf you can send gifs throug text now?? You: Welcome to 2020, my dude. Jason: im not your fucking dude

Typing a reply, Jason interrupted you once again.

Jason: teach me how to do that

Smiling widely, you found that you couldn’t wait for the next week to pass by so you could go back and see him.

***

“How’s Jason?” you asked the minute you reached the Cave computers, panting from the run down.

“Wow, hello to you, too,” Dick chuckled, spinning towards you on the wheeled chair.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and Bruce and Dick were in front of the computers, discussing a case that had connections to Bludhaven Police Department.

Gone for two weeks, you had a lot to catch up on.

“According to Alfred, he’s doing well,” Bruce answered, “Even started to ask for seconds last week. Now Alfred has been making portions for two.”

“He asked? For seconds?” you gasped. “How?”

“He left a note on the tray two days after you left. He’s been making meal requests, too. Texts Alfred in the morning to let him know.”

“Texted?!”

“Alfred slipped his number on the tray in case Jason wanted anything specific.”

“I slipped mine as well, but he hasn’t texted me yet,” Dick pouted.

“When did he start texting?” you ignored Dick.

“Last Sunday.”

So the same day you started texting him, then.

“He hasn’t texted me,” Dick sighed, looking dejected like a kid who was told Disneyland blew up.

“He’ll come around, Dick,” you offered him a smile, “I mean- he’s already texting Alfred!”

“Yeah,” he lamented.

“Okaaay, nice talk. I’m gonna go see him now, bye.”

You ran to the box, but stopped right before you opened the internal door. After checking your hair with your phone camera, you tried to stifle the butterflies in your stomach.

Ugh, you were so fucked.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Yeah,” Jason’s muffled grunt answered you.

Pushing it open, your eyes immediately went to the bed only to find that he wasn’t lounging around reading a book like you expected. Instead, your mouth dropped open when you saw him on the floor, doing push ups.

Shirtless.

Jason had changed drastically during the two weeks you were gone. You noticed that he had definitely gained weight, as well as muscle mass.

“Uh, wh-what are you..?”

He stood up, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

His muscles were much more prominent and defined now, and he looked like he was going to achieve Dick’s physique if he kept it up for another month or two.

“Welcome back,” he simply said before taking gulps from a water bottle you definitely had not seen before.

“Thanks,” you walked over and sat on his bed, “I’m glad to see that you decided to start taking care of yourself again.”

“What, this? This isn’t for me.”

“Huh?” you cocked your head in curiosity.

“I… I lost a lot of muscle mass. My body- it isn’t how it used to be,” he frowned, “And I can’t have you lusting over it when it’s not at its peak.”

“What- what do you-?” you stammered, suddenly getting hot.

Jason merely smirked and then continued his push ups.

You watched as his developing muscles rippled, a thin layer of sweat making his skin glisten in the light. It was amazing how he had progressed so much in such a short period of time. You guessed that he must have just been occupying his days by working out.

No wonder he’s been asking for seconds.

“Enjoying the view?” Jason breathed, pausing with his arms straightened, his head angled upwards towards you.

“No, shut up,” you looked away.

“Here, be useful,” he started, “Sit on my back.”

“What?”

“I’ve gotten used to my own body weight, I need extra resistance,” he elaborated, “Come on, sit on my back.”

“But it’s all sweaty,” you whined, pretending to protest. Definitely pretending- for the sake of your own dignity.

You got up and went over towards him anyway.

Carefully, awkwardly, you sat on his back as you would a park bench. You rested your palms flat against his sticky skin to stabilise yourself. Suddenly, he dipped down without warning, earning a soft squeal from you.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” he strained, but continued to do the push ups. He was shakier, struggling with the weight, and after twenty-five, he paused. “Okay, I think I’m done.”

But before you had the chance to get off him, he suddenly stood up, throwing you off his back to have you fall on the floor on your ass.

“Jason, you assho-” you clapped your hand over your mouth, realising what you had just said.

Oh, no. Oh, fuck.

He stood towering over you, his jaw clenching as he stared you down with his cold, blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot! It was a reflex and-”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore,” he rolled his eyes, reaching for his bottle.

You blinked. Then scrambled to your feet.

“You don’t care anymore?” you repeated slowly.

“I don’t care if you call me that,” he huffed.

That made your heart swell and melt at the same time.

“I got used to your voice,” he mumbled, expression changing as he looked away. He frowned, as if he was angrily staring at a distant object.

You had just guessed that he didn’t like to be called his name because of a sense of familiarity, but now you were thinking that there was much more to that than what you had originally thought.

“So, I can call you… Jason?” you tested.

“Yeah, call me whatever you want,” he sat on his bed, looking up at you.

You smiled, thankful that you had finally crossed that bridge. “You know, I could get some workout stuff for you? Weights, bands, that bar thing that you can put at your door frame for pull ups…”

“You’d like to see that, huh?” he smirked.

“You flatter yourself too much,” you scoffed.

“How was Hawaii?” he changed the subject all of a sudden.

“It was fun. Beach was great, locals were great, loved the vibe- what are you doing?”

Jason had stood back up and started to walk closer and closer to you, getting all up in your space like a predator finally cornering its prey. You kept on taking steps back until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

Nowhere else to run, your heart started hammering. He leaned in, his hands resting on the desk on either side of your body, trapping you against the table and himself. You looked up and gulped. You could almost feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

“Are you afraid of me?” he muttered lowly.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” you whispered.

“You tell me,” he said.

“Well, I’m not afraid of you,” you stated.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow. Then, you felt his hand grip your wrist tightly, pressing down on your skin with his fingers. “Your pulse is very fast for someone who’s not afraid of me.”

“It’s because you’re all up in my space!” you argued.

“Didn’t look like you mind when your friend,” he snarled the word, “was all up in your space.”

“My friend? What- oh,” you widen your eyes in realisation, “You mean Alex.”

“Is that his name?”

“Alex is just a friend, nothing more. He’s just someone I’m close to,” you reassured him.

Which then made you think about why you were reassuring him.

“Oh, you were definitely close to him,” Jason growled.

“Wait- are you… jealous?” a smile creeped your lips.

He scowled at you for a few moments, and you could see the little tics in his expression that said he was annoyed. The flared nostrils, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching, the very slight twitches at the corner of his left eye.

“No,” he finally said, taking a step back from you. “I’m going to shower. Since you couldn’t stop staring at me, the invitation is still open for you to join.”

“You know, I’m starting to think that maybe I prefer it when you were broody instead of this. Please go back to your depressive mental state,” you sarcastically replied.

Jason barked out an actual laugh. Though his laugh was odd, like someone who’s only now discovering that humans were indeed capable of laughter, you found comfort in it. It was no longer hysterical and devoid of humor. He was getting better, learning to embrace a connection with someone, and it made you extremely happy.

“Maybe I should,” he answered with a cheeky glint in his eye, “Then that way you can give me more sponge baths.”

He left you alone in his room, flushed and at a loss for words.

***

“I find it very odd that people would yell ‘Batman!’ when they realise you’re there,” you rambled while climbing out of the Batmobile.

You were absolutely drenched from the downpour that had been going on all night. It was 4 am on a friday night and you had just returned from patrol.

Bruce took off his cowl immediately, revealing tired eyes despite the relatively slow night.

“It’s like they’re saying ‘Look at me! I’m here! Please knock me out or hang me upside down from the-’ Bruce?”

Bruce had stiffen, staring at something behind you. You turned around and was shocked to see Jason in the mid-distance, sitting on the ground outside the black box that was his room, leaning against the cool metal.

He himself was staring intently at Bruce, not even sparing you a glance.

You looked back and forth between the two men, sensing a high tension silent conversation.

Then, Bruce’s eyes relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly in that hardly-there-Bruce-smile.

He gave Jason one stiff nod of understanding, then walked away to the computers at the other end of the cave, leaving you alone with his son.

Jason relaxed as you walked over to him, wringing your hair to squeeze out all the excess water.

“Aw, you waited up for me,” you teased, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, grinning away.

“Fuck off,” he snorted, “I was bored.”

You noticed him clenching his jaw as he looked at you from top to bottom, eyes lingering longer on the ‘R’ on your left breast.

Ah, it was his first time seeing you in your uniform.

His uniform.

Suddenly, you felt like an imposter in those colors and had the strong urge to rip the uniform off.

You wanted to say something, but Jason beat you to it.

“There were times in that shit hole where I wanted to burn that uniform off my skin,” he grit, “Kept on thinking to myself. I wish I never became Robin. I wish I never met Bruce Wayne.”

Your heart shattered at his confession. It was extremely rare for him to bring up anything related to his two year torture, and the previous times were never in such detail.

Realising you needed to say something, you opened your mouth. “I’m so-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Yes, sometimes you knew that he just wanted you to listen.

You nodded silently and went to sit next to him on the floor.

“It… suits you,” he forced out.

“Hmm?”

“The uniform. It suits you. More than it ever suited me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think your ass would look quite nice in green,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with your own.

He chuckled deeply, nudging you back even harder- hard enough for you to lose your balance and topple sideways, earning another breathy laugh from Jason.

***

Another month passed by, and you found yourself falling deeply for Jason- much to your dismay. You knew Jason wasn’t ready for any kind of intense emotions, and that it would take a very long time before he was.

So you swallowed your emotions down, stifling them and hoping it would go away.

The two of you had developed a pleasant friendship, often bickering and joking around, with Jason teasing you about your obvious physical attraction to him.

He also now occasionally waited outside his cube for you to come back after patrol, never really venturing too far from it, and still avoiding contact with both Bruce and Dick. Only you and Alfred had the privilege to speak to him.

Even then, sometimes you would visit his room but only getting a “I’m not feeling it today. Please leave.”

Understandingly, you would nod silently and leave him alone. You knew he still had his bad days, sometimes not eating his meals.

But mostly, he was getting better, both mentally and physically.

With nothing much to do the whole day, Jason was now obsessed with working out and bulking up. He now had a few simple equipment in his room- mostly weights.

You figured that it was a coping mechanism for him, a healthy outlet to channel all his rage and negative emotions into.

But come on. He was getting even hotter and it was making it extremely difficult for you to stop yourself from checking him out, fantasizing about him when he wasn’t around. Still, you couldn’t complain. Even though he hadn’t reached Dick’s size yet, he was very near to it, and his naturally bigger body frame and build made up for the still developing muscles.

Hell, he was now sporting a six pack.

But you knew that he was still not as well as you hoped he would be. The bloodshot eyes he had was proof that he doesn’t sleep well- and you soon found out why.

It was a little past midnight on your night off from patrol, and you were using your break in the best way you could think of- by sleeping. Something woke you up that night.

A soft knock on your door.

You frowned, eyes still closed, wondering who it was.

Bruce would usually knock twice. Strong, clear, and with purpose. Dick would start pounding rapidly on your door, annoying you intentionally. Alfred would give three soft knocks followed by a ‘Miss?’

Your eyes flew open. There was only one other person in the manor.

Throwing your covers aside, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to open it.

Jason stood outside your door in the dim lights of the hallway, frowning and running his fingers nervously through his messy dark hair. He was wearing a t-shirt with boxers, standing awkwardly.

“Jason?” you hated how your voice sounded so sleepy. You cleared your throat. “Are you okay? Would you like to come in?”

He nodded silently, and you made way for him to enter before closing the door behind you.

“Sit on the bed,” you told him while jumping back into yours, sitting up cross legged.

The bed dipped when he sat on it, copying your motion and crossed his legs.

You waited for him to say something, your eyes straining to catch his in the dark. But he just remained silent, staring into space and avoiding your eyes.

“How did you know this was my room?” you asked, starting with a light topic.

“Only one that was locked. I already know where everyone else sleeps,” he explained.

“That’s right,” you realised, “I tend to forget that you’re probably even more familiar with the manor than I am.”

“Did you know there’s an old dumbwaiter in Bruce’s room?” you saw him smirk from the shadows that was casted on his face, “I used to hide in there, waiting to catch him off guard.”

“What? Why?”

“Dick and I, we had a bet,” he recalled the memory, “Whoever gets to surprise Bruce first would owe the other a special favor. Only rule was that we had to have it on video as proof.”

You appreciated that moment, the first time he ever spoke about both Dick and Bruce as a fond memory.

“I won, by the way,” he continued, “But- I forgot to press record on my phone.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned for him.

“Yeah, and Dick refused to believe me,” he chuckled, “That old man didn’t want to admit it either. But I swear- the look on his face when I jumped out while he and some model were going at it- priceless.”

Your jaw dropped, and then you burst into a fit of laughter, tears filling your eyes.

“You- you- you jumped out on him while he was having sex?!” you squealed.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I didn’t even care that it sort of scarred me, because I managed to catch Batman off guard.”

The both of you laughed, his deep voice mingling with your own on that quiet night.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jason,” you smiled warmly at him.

But then, his smile fell.

“I hate my name now.”

“I’m sorry,” you began, “You said it was okay to call you that, so I-”

“No, it’s fine,” he started running his fingers through his hair again, “It’s just- I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything,” you reassured, “It won’t leave this room. I promise.”

He looked at you, worry in his eyes. “Okay. Fine. Yeah.”

You waited for him to begin.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been having nightmares. Almost every night. It’s always the same one.”

“You want to tell me about it?” you prompted him after waiting for him to continue.

“I hate my name because he said it a lot. Joker,” he scowled, “After repeatedly burning my skin for my name, it’s like that’s all he said. In that annoying, high pitched, sing-song voice of his. Jason, Jason, Jason. It made me hate my name. It made me hate hearing it.”

“I- I didn’t know how much time passed when I was in there,” he continued, “But, fuck. It was- it was hell. And the worst part was that I kept on waiting for Bruce. Waiting and hoping for him to find me and save me. I was so desperate. You- I-”

He choked on his words. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips tight.

You wanted to reach out to him, hug him, tell him that everything was okay now. But you didn’t. You waited for him to collect himself so he could finish telling you his story, just like how he wanted to.

“Anyway, I- despite all that,” he sighed, “That was the only thing that kept me sane. I kept on clinging onto the hope that he was out there, searching. And that helped for a while. Until- until that happened.”

He was breathing heavily now, fidgeting more. Jason was definitely getting increasingly agitated the deeper he went.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck.”

The moment you realised he was crying was when he let out a sniffle. You automatically took his hand in yours, squeezing it as a form of comfort.

“It’s okay,” you told him, “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I need to. I have to. I can’t take this anymore. Keeping everything in, I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.”

“Okay, then take it slow,” you said, “No rush. Anytime you’re ready.”

He nodded, eyes still closed, as if he was afraid of letting you see him cry.

“One night,” he began, “I think- I don’t know what was different- but I think something went wrong for him. Or right? That’s how it was. Tormenting me was fun, but it was also an outlet for him. But at the same time when he was happy, he also tortured me. He came to me, and- injected me with some sort of drug. That never happened before. He made sure that my head was clear whenever he hurt me so that I could feel everything he did.”

“But- he did- and- immediately, I felt weak,” he continued, “I mean, I was already weak. But my head. It was cloudy. I remember everything clearly, but it was like my brain couldn’t process it, couldn’t communicate with my body. I felt like I was looking out through a window that was my eyes- like I was in someone else’s body, experiencing someone else’s moments.”

“He released me,” Jason’s voice was now barely a whisper. “He released me from the ropes, and I fell to the floor. And then he- he- fuck.”

He let go of your hand and started pulling at his hair, rocking back and forth on your bed. He was sobbing now, his shoulders jerking up in sharp intakes of breaths. The only thing you could do was to stay silent and hold back your own tears.

You rested your hand on his knee, giving him a textile connection with reality so he doesn’t fall into his own thoughts.

“You- he- he- ruh- ruhp-”

Your heart sank to your stomach in horror as you realised what Jason was trying to say. It was as if you were plunged into icy water, chills running down your spine at the true revelation of what he had gone through in that cursed cell.

“Oh, no,” you breathed.

“He pushed me down,” he choked, “Pushed me down and climbed on top. I- I couldn’t even fight him. I was- I was conscious the whole time and I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t fucking do anything.”

Your tears were falling down now, both at the sight of Jason looking so vulnerable and fragile, and at his confession. Not being able to help yourself, you threw your arms over his neck and crashed into his hard body, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

His arms immediately wrapped around you, clutching you so hard it was painful as he buried his own face into your shoulder.

“And he kept on saying my name,” he said in muffled cries, “Jason, Jason, Jason. The whole fucking time. And- and I knew. He didn’t do it for pleasure. He did it to torment me. He- he didn’t even- he didn’t even finish.”

Jason sobbed into your skin for the next few minutes, his tears soaking through your night shirt. “But I did. Even though it was painful. Fuck, the pain was worse than anything he had ever done to me before. But- he- I- I fucking came.”

The both of you were sobbing now, his ragged breaths mingling together with your own on that quiet night.

His grip on you was tight, as if he thought that if he let go, you would disappear. So he clung onto you with all his might to keep you there with him as he recalled the horrific events.

“That's what broke me. I was so disgusted with myself. I hated myself. And he- he saw everything and- and laughed. He laughed so hard, I thought he was going to choke and die. I’ve never seen him laugh like that. And I remember every single fucking moment of being helpless on that fucking floor while he- fuck. Fuck.”

“And then he left. He left me on the floor bleeding and I never saw him again. And I went fucking insane. I tried to kill myself so many fucking times. So many times, I lost count. That’s what I dream about every night. His laughs, and his ‘Jason, Jason, Jason’.”

And that was that. That was the story.

The end of Jason Todd.

The both of you cried long and hard that night in each other’s arms. Eventually, you both lied down on the pillows together, underneath the covers.

“Please don’t tell Bruce,” he whispered to you.

Your head was on his chest, his big arms wrapped around your waist, your legs tangled with his.

You smiled at that. Even with the trauma, even with the sense of abandonment he felt, he still wanted to protect Bruce from knowing the truth.

Because the both of you knew that the truth would kill him.

“I promise,” you whispered back.

And then the both of you fell asleep together.

***

“Has Jason been sleeping in your room with you?” Bruce asked you on one fine Saturday morning at breakfast.

It had been about a week and a half since the first time Jason knocked on your door and poured out his feelings to you.

“He gets nightmares,” you tried to explain.

He thought that if he told you everything, the nightmares would stop. But it didn’t. But he then realised that the only thing that made it better was sleeping by your side, having someone there to wake him up from living his own hell in a loop.

“And do the two of you… Just sleep?” Bruce frowned.

“Yes!” you widen your eyes in horror at the insinuation. “Bruce! Come on!”

“I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he does for you as well. But I don’t think something like that is what Jason needs right now,” he stated.

“Yes, I know!” you groaned at the thought having that kind of conversation with him, “Jesus, Bruce. I know. I’m just there to wake him up or help him fall back asleep. Nothing more.”

Bruce nodded, deep in thought. “Has he… told you? About what happened?”

You pursed your lips. “Yes.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” his frown went deeper. “I understand. He will tell me when he is ready.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, hiding the fact that Jason may never tell Bruce what happened. Never the full story.

“He still hasn’t left the manor?”

“No,” you sighed, “I asked him if he wanted some fresh air. Just outside the main door, not even going down the steps. But he refused. Told me to, and I quote, ‘Fuck off’.”

“Well, he’s only just left the cave, and it’s just to your room,” Bruce thought out loud, “It’s still progress. Especially since he’s been talking to you about the past.”

“He only spoke about it one time,” you said, “And then never again.”

“I see,” he hummed, “And you’re okay with him sleeping with you?”

“Next to me, Bruce, sleeping next to me,” you corrected.

“Yes, and you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you assured him, “I can kick him out any time I want- but I don’t want to. He looks like a lost puppy sometimes.”

“An angry lost puppy.”

You chuckled at that and couldn’t agree more.

*** While Jason got the sleep he needed when he was next to you, it was counterproductive on your end. You had never been with anyone before, and definitely had not slept on the same bed with another man.

So to feel his body heat and breaths against your skin, his occasional light snores, it made your mind go on hyperdrive.

Most of the time, the two of you would just lie down, your back against his front, or your backs against each other, or both on your backs just staring at the ceiling- and talked. You would be the one talking the most, of course, about anything you could think of. You would tell him about your day, your patrols, something you read about online, or the current news.

But that one particular night during week three of him sleeping next to you, the two of you were silent. It wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but the kind of silence that was pleasant and was better described as a peaceful quiet.

You had your back pressed against his front and his arm was lazily draped over your waist. It was a cold night, and you were wearing just a tank top and pyjama shorts, snuggling under the covers that went up all the way to your nose.

Shifting a bit while snuggling comfortably, you pressed yourself against Jason’s body to get more of his heat. But then, you were met with something poking against your lower back.

“Ngh, please ignore that,” Jason huffed.

Oh.

For some reason, you forgot that Jason was a physically healthy male who was capable of having sexual thoughts and feelings. All this while, you thought you were the only one.

“Are you- uh- is that- uh-” you stuttered, feeling your face flush with heat.

Feeling your body suddenly alert with excitement.

“Yes, it’s my fucking penis,” he grit almost angrily, “What, never heard of an erection before?”

“Of course I have!” you argued rather defensively, “It’s just- I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?” he demanded, “You didn’t think I could get it up or something?”

“No, of course not!” you denied, “It just didn’t cross my mind, that’s all.”

A pause. Then-

“Well,” he sighed, “You wouldn’t have been wrong.”

Your mind blanked for a second.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

“It’s my- fuck- it’s my first time,” he confessed.

“Your first time getting an erection?” you gasped.

“No, you idiot,” he snapped, “It’s my first time getting hard since… since… then.”

Oh. Oh, you were an idiot.

“It’s just- after that- even when I was downstairs, alone and safe, I- I couldn’t,” he told you, “I kept on thinking back to that time and- and I couldn’t. I found it disgusting.”

And immediately, like someone doused you in cold water, any feeling of horniness you had when you first felt his erection against you disappeared. You just felt so sad for him, but also angry. Angry that he had to go through all of that, and angrier that there was nothing you could do about it.

“So, why do you think you’re getting it now?” you asked. Perhaps talking about it in an objective manner would help guide him through his thought process.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed, “You’re fucking pressing your ass against my dick, what did you think would happen?”

“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, “You’re hard because of me?”

“No shit,” he said, “You’re hardly wearing any clothes, too.”

You shouldn’t feel happy due to the circumstance and context, but there you were ecstatic that he found you attractive enough to pop a boner after so long.

“Fuck,” he sighed, suddenly pressing himself closer to you.

His hand that draped over your waist when to actually grip it. Then, then, he grinded his hard on against your ass.

“Mmm,” he rumbled deeply, “Feels good.”

There. That was it. You were once again flooded with the feeling of heat that pooled at your stomach, a tingling sensation started at your core. Feeling hot despite the low temperature of the night, you clenched your thighs together, needing the slight pressure.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he grinded on you again, and then unexpectedly let out a chuckle.

“What is it?” you smiled, loving it whenever you heard him laugh.

“I thought… For the longest time, I thought I was broken. That he broke me,” he revealed, “I thought I needed to get all Wingardium Leviosa on this little fucker.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed and groaned at the same time, “You’re so fucking embarassing.”

He laughed along with you and continued. “But now I’m hard and- and horny. You made me feel like I’m normal again. Like I’m sixteen again, and getting horny over everything.”

Sometimes, we take the normal things for granted. Food, shelter, clothes. In this case, it was a goddamned boner. In a way, Jason’s erection was symbolic- however funny it sounded. Getting your sexual appetite and need back after being so traumatised was a massive leap for many people who had experienced the same thing.

It meant that Jason was healing well.

“Does that make you happy?” you asked.

“Not particularly,” he admitted, “But I’m definitely not sad either.”

“That’s good enough for now, then,” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Another few moments of silence. You could feel it, his cock pushing into you. However tempted you were to push back and grind, you held yourself still.

“Uh, Jason?” you voiced.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to like, take care of it?” you asked, “I mean. My bathroom is available. Or- there are many empty rooms.”

“No,” he simply stated.

“No?”

“No.”

“It’s kinda poking into me.”

“Just ignore it.”

“Ignore it?” you gaped, “How can I ignore it? You’re literally pressing it into my ass.”

“Well, then do you want to take care of it?” he teased.

You couldn’t argue back. “Fine, I’ll ignore it.”

He chuckled. “I’ll turn around.”

When he made the movement, you suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. “No, it’s fine. Stay here.”

You expected him to tease you like he usually would, make a crass comment, or even a ‘fuck off’.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you again in silence, and the both of you drifted to sleep.

***

“Do you think this color suits me?” Natalie asked, holding up a floral red dress.

The four of you were at the mall in Diamond District. Now that high school was over, and everyone would be going off to separate colleges in a few months, you tried to spend time with each other as much as you could.

“Any color suits you, Nat,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re hot stuff.”

“Jesus, it’s like you’re shoving it in our faces at this point,” Sarah added, flipping her brunette hair to the side, tight curls flowing down.

“Aw, you guys,” Nat pretended to tear up, “I’m gonna miss you guys so much!”

“Not again,” Alex groaned, “We’ve been through this so many times.”

“I’m gonna be so miserable without you guys,” Natalie continued on, ignoring Alex’s interruption.

“I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged, “I think I’d enjoy New York. I can have pizza parties with the rats in my overpriced apartment.”

You chuckled at Sarah’s joke. Everyone was leaving Gotham except you. Deciding to continue with Robin, you opted for Gotham University- prestigious, old, and most importantly, close to home.

Your phone dinged in your pocket. You opened it to find texts from Dick.

Dick: OH MY GOD. Dick: I’m at the Manor. Dick: Was going to the Cave gym to work out. Dick: AND Dick: JASON IS HERE!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!

That was new. Jason would usually just use whatever basic equipment he had in his room to work out. The fact that he was at the Cave’s sparring area where all the other fancier work out equipment were was out of the ordinary.

You: Just go. See if he reacts. If he suddenly stiffens and just stay there not doing anything, then leave. If he continues on, then it’s okay to stay- but don’t initiate anything! Dick: OKOKOK

You waited anxiously for Dick’s update. All four of you were now walking towards the food court, but you hardly listened to their bickering. Forty-five minutes passed before Dick texted you again.

Dick: OMG HE TALKED TO ME You: What did he say? Dick: He asked me to pass him his towel. You: That’s all he said? Dick: IT’S PROGRESS OKAY!!

Dick was right. It meant that Dick was now the third person Jason had spoken to. Adding another person to his list of contacts was definitely progress.

You were happy for him.

You:Is he still there? Dick: Nah he left Dick: But WOW he’s looking good. He must have been really going at it. I think he might get bigger than me soon You: All he does now is work out. He’s obsessed. Dick: Yeah I can tell

You decided to leave it at that for now and try to concentrate on your friends, but Dick sent another message.

Dick: ARE YOU TWO HAVING SEX?!?!

You spat out your drink, earning weird looks from everyone.

You: DICK!!!! WTF NO!!

Dick never replied.

***

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Jason asked, his voice breaking the silence of your dark room. The two of you were on your bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling.

“Of course,” you said. It didn’t matter to you what Jason asks for. He hardly ever asked for anything.

“Could you… Take me out tomorrow?” he requested, “If you’re not doing anything else, that is.”

“Uh, sure!” you nodded, surprised. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, okay,” you hesitated, “But- are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to go so far so quickly. Maybe you should start with just going to the backyard?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’m not a kid.”

“Okay then,” you agreed. “Tomorrow.”

You kept on glancing anxiously at him the next day as he climbed into the passenger seat of your car. He was quiet, but looked perfectly fine.

Switching the engine on, you drove out of the garage and out the large automatic gates. Trees soon surrounded the lonely road on both sides as you descended downhill into town.

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“I thought Robinson Park would be nice,” you said. It was around three in the afternoon, yet Gotham was dark as though the day was ending. It was cloudy, skies grey and wind blowing.

“You’re taking me to a park?” he scoffed.

“It’s more quiet than anywhere else,” you reasoned with him, “Less people. Spacious. Lots of greenery.”

“Whatever.”

Reaching the parking space of the park, you noticed that there were a few cars. Mothers and nannies liked to bring children out to the park around that time. Joggers and teens, college students and retired elderly seeking a little escape from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass.

You turned the engine off and proceeded to open the door, only then noticing Jason stiffening. Looking over to him, you saw that his eyebrows were pulled down in a deep frown, his jaw clenched, his hands in fists on his knees.

You didn’t say anything or make any comment. Leaning back into your seat, you waited until Jason was ready.

About five minutes passed before he took a deep breath, gave you a nod, and then opened his door.

The two of you walked along a path at the park, going deeper inside and further away from your car. There were a few joggers around, some tourists, and some teens taking photos. You saw a group of kids in the distance playing frisbee, and the others were walking their dogs.

An empty bench stood in the middle of the park, overlooking a clearing. You headed there, Jason following closely behind.

“It’s a bit gloomy today,” you pouted, “As if Gotham could be anything other than that, of course.”

You looked at Jason.

He looked like a scared dog being brought out for the first time.

His jittery knees were bouncing rapidly, his wide eyes were darting at every movement, his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and his breathing was heavy.

“Woah, woah,” you reached out to him, putting an arm on his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just listen to me talk, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he gulped.

“Try to calm your breathing,” you instructed, “Deep breaths, Jason. In… out… In… Out… Yeah, see that’s great.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, now calmer. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled warmly, “You’re doing just fine.”

“No, I’m not,” he strained, “I feel like everything is too big. Too vast. The fucking sky looks like it’s going to crash down on me and at the same time suck me up into a void.”

“And despite all you’re feeling right now, you’re not breaking down or anything, are you?” you tried, “You’re okay, Jason. This is progress.”

“I guess,” he sighed, “I’m just- I’m so used to having four walls and a ceiling. Now everything feels too big.”

“I understand,” you empathized, “Whenever you want to go back, just say the word. Or we can even just go and sit in the car. No problem.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s do that,” he stood up.

The walk back to the car was faster.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, you’re not,” you reassured him, “That was great, Jason. Come on, it was your first time outside in two years and a half. Cut yourself some slack.”

“I’m so fucking broken,” he choked.

“Don’t say that,” you scolded, “You’re not broken. And you know what, even if you think you are, we can always fix it. Baby steps. Maybe we can do this once a week. We were out for like, ten minutes? Next week we’ll try fifteen. How’s that sound?”

“Twice a week,” he stated, “I just want to be normal again.”

“Okay, twice a week, then,” you agreed, “We’ll try again in a couple of days, okay?”

“Okay,” he paused, “Thank you.”

“No problemo,” you grinned, “Would you like to stay here a bit longer or shall we go back?”

“Let’s go back.”

“Wanna stop by the diner? You can wait in the car while I ask for a take-away?”

“...okay.”

***

Jason and you had gone out twice more. Once three days after the first time, and the other a week later. The second time he went out, he lasted twenty minutes, though you were sure he was being stubborn on his part. He looked like he was having a heart attack, but he insisted on staying until he hit the twenty minute mark.

The third time, he was much much better. Surprisingly so. The two of you sat down on that bench for half an hour, with you even leaving him alone for a few minutes to get two ice cream cones.

After that, you took him for a drive around the city. He seemed to be more comfortable in the car, so you went all the way from Robinson Park to Diamond District, and back to the manor.

Bruce seemed very pleased with your update, and you swore you could see him actually smile.

“Thank you,” he had told you. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked of you.”

“It’s no problem, Bruce. Really,” you reassured him.

“I’m his father. He is my responsibility. It’s my fault he’s even in that state. I wish I could do more for him,” he said solemnly.

“The fact that you understand what he needs is more than helpful, Bruce,” you smiled, “Not many parents can do that. You understand and respect him. That’s enough for now.”

He simply nodded.

Ever since your scheduled outings, Jason had become more and more relaxed whenever he was in the manor. He now walked to the kitchen on occasion to mess with Alfred while he cooked meals for him, sometimes sitting in the living room lounging on the couch while reading. Most of the time, though, he was down at the sparring zone of the Cave, working out.

But at night, he would never fail to knock on your door.

And at that particular night, you found yourself in the same situation again while lying down on your side with your back to his front, for the fifth time.

“You officially have to stop calling yourself broken,” you grumbled, “Because that thing poking into my ass is definitely not broken.”

He chuckled lowly. “You complaining, sweetheart?”

Oh, and yes. Jason now had started calling you ‘sweetheart’. Why? You had no clue. It was just a thing that happened. The look on your face when he first slipped it in was probably a sight to behold.

“No shit, I’m complaining, Jason,” you groaned, “You haven’t jerked off, yet? Not even once?”

“Nope,” he popped the P, “I just… I don’t want to… I don’t want to come.”

You sighed, understanding the situation. He had been disgusted with himself because he had ejaculated when Joker… Well, that. You hated to even think about it, so you always shoved the thought away.

“But unfortunately for me, I still get super horny,” he rumbled deeply, pushing his hips into you even more, “So fucking horny.”

“And then I have to suffer,” you complained.

“I can assure you, blue balls are more painful than something poking into you,” he bickered.

“It’s not that…”

“Then?”

“I get horny too, come on man,” you whined, “I’m a hormonal teenage girl. What did you expect?”

“You get horny too?” he whispered after a pause.

“Uh, yeah,” you admitted nervously. Somehow, the mood shifted, and your heart started drumming against your chest.

“Because of me?” he asked.

“Not you specifically, I mean,” you tried to back track, “You’re… Your dick pressing up against me like that, I mean, come on, Jason.”

“Simple question sweetheart,” he told you, “You get horny because of me, yes or no?”

You gulped. “Yes.”

Fuck, why did you say yes? You could have lied. You could have not answered.

“Yeah?” he breathed. You noticed that his hand was now on your hip, right above the waistband of your sleeping shorts, drawing circles onto your skin with his thumb.

You were nervous. The butterflies in your tummy was not helping you calm down.

“Yeah,” you squeezed your eyes shut, as if to protect yourself from anything he had to say.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips and grinding his hard on against your ass even more. And did it… Fuck, did it get even harder?

Afraid of saying the wrong thing, and also out of nervousness, you remained silent. Jason’s chest rose and fall against your back, his respiratory rate increasing. His pinky finger slid underneath the waistband, testing the waters before slowly slipping his hand into your pants.

He went in so slowly, as if waiting for you to tell him no, to rip his hand away, to wrench yourself away from him. But you never did, so he went in deeper, caressing the skin beneath your pelvic bone, his heat just burning into you.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he commented, voice suddenly husky.

“I don’t wear them to bed,” you informed him.

“You mean to tell me,” he growled, “That all this while I’ve been sleeping next to you and you never had your panties on?”

“It’s more comfortable that way,” you mumbled.

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed. “Thank God I never knew. Would have been torture, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Jason,” you gasped.

“It’s true,” he said, “Damn, sweetheart.”

He went lower, closer to your center.

Your core was tingly, small pulses of electricity buzzed through your body as Jason came closer and closer and closer and-

He slipped his hands between your closed thighs and cupped you.

“Mmm,” he moaned softly, “Warm. Fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” you laughed, even though you felt like screaming on the inside. Screaming for more.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, burying his face into your nape, taking a deep breath. “You smell nice.”

Oh, shit. You totally forgot about Jason’s aversion to strong smells.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly apologised, “I can switch to an unscented shampoo as well so it wouldn’t be too strong for you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “I like it on you.”

He ground his hand into your center harder.

“Mmpf, Jay,” you breathed, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’ve never touched a girl like this before.”

“Really?” you widen your eyes in surprise.

“I was kept in a cell for two years, I couldn’t exactly talk, let alone touch, anyone can I?” he quipped.

“Right.”

“Teach me,” he said.

“What?” you whispered despite knowing what he meant.

A pause of silence. A deep intake of breath, a slow exhale.

“Teach me how to touch you,” he purred.

Fuck, you felt like exploding.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes. If you… If you want to.”

Your mind quickly tried to analyse the situation. Bruce had specifically said that Jason didn’t need any complicated matters in the relationship. It made sense. You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason with any confusion or uncertainty.

But at the same time, you’ve been figuring out how Jason thought, bit by bit. He’s told you many times that he just wanted to be normal again, to feel normal, to do normal things. And this was something that was normal, that he should do, that he wanted to do.

And you knew that he probably would take the rejection even worse.

“O-Okay,” you agreed.

Slowly, you separated your thighs, raising the one on top and hooking it over his legs behind you. Due to your shift in position, you felt the minute Jason’s fingers dip slightly into your folds.

“So, uh, this is my first time with a guy as well,” you squeaked, “But I’ll try to guide you.”

You licked your lips.

“Uhm, well, I guess you can start by running a finger up and down between my- oh! Yes, just like that.”

His middle finger slid down to your opening, and then up again slowly. His movements were uncertain, brushing only slightly against your clit unintentionally.

It was different, having someone else touch you. Somehow, despite the inexperience, it just felt better.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking wet. Do you usually get this wet?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No? Yes? I don’t know! I can’t feel it.”

“Shit.”

You let him play with you some more, his fingers sliding up and down, sometimes pressing against your fleshy parts, sometimes circling and gathering your wetness, sometimes just parting your lips. Hell, he even tapped the tips of his fingers on you randomly or brushed into your delicate fuzz. You knew he was just exploring, feeling you for the first time.

And that thought made you smile and sigh.

“Teach me how to make you feel good,” he rasped.

“Uh, so your fingers are wet, right?”

“Yeah. Because you’re leaking all over them.”

“Okay, good. Now find my clit. It’s slightly above your finger, okay, to the left a bit. More. Okay, there! Yeah, right there,” you sighed, finally feeling that delicious pressure.

“Here?”

He tapped your clit.

“Ah!” you moaned, “Yes- but don’t just- nevermind, just gently circle it. Clockwise.”

He obeyed, and hell since when did Jason just obey?

He circled you gently, like you said. But he also went so, so slow.

“Faster, Jay,” you panted.

He went faster, making you groan in pleasure.

“Like this, sweetheart?” he muttered, his voice low and cracking, and sexy, and husky. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and it drove you wild.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Yeah, just like that. Fuck.”

“Feel good?”

“So good, Jay. Press a little harder now- fuck. Fuck. Yes, perfect. Just like that.”

The pressure built as his fingers did their magic.

“You- you’re surprisingly good at that,” you stuttered, “You sure- mmm- you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Despite what you think,” he husked in your ear, warm breath tickling you. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“I can see that.”

“But I’m also good at improvising.”

“Wha- oh. Oh. Fuck! Jason! Oh my fucking god!”

He started pressing even harder, and going even faster, throwing away the slow build you were going for and instead pushing you towards orgasm fast and hard, as if he was determined to prove something to you.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he purred, “You gonna come soon?”

“Oh my- fuck, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!”

“You want to come for me?” his deep voice rumbled.

“Yes!”

What the hell? When did he learn how to talk like that?

Because with the mix of his heavy pants, his low voice coaxing you, his barrage of pleasure at your clit, you felt the familiar tightening of your core. You threw one hand back and found his hair. Running your fingers through them, you gripped them tight and pulled.

You pulled on his hair as he forced the orgasm onto you.

“Oh my God. Jason, I’m gonna- fuck- I’m- fuck- ah!”

You moaned loudly as you felt your walls flutter, clenching over nothing as you reached your high.

“O-okay, stop, fuck,” your hand went from his hair to his wrist, stilling him. He withdrew his hands from your pants, and went to grip you tight again by the waist.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he groaned, grinding into you. You pushed your ass back, feeling his hardened length against your flesh in your post-orgasm bliss. “Jesus, that was so hot.”

“That was- yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”

His face was still buried in your neck. You could feel his lips on your skin.

“Uhm, I can, you know,” you sputtered, “Try to help you out?”

“It’s fine,” he breathed, body still tight against yours, “Just go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked again, feeling guilty that he didn’t get off. “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” he said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. That was great. I enjoyed that. I told you, I don’t want to come.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Go to bed.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Fuck, I’m so horny.”

“Jason,” you whined, “Really, I can help-”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, “Goodnight.”

You pursed your lips.

“Goodnight.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #robin #jason todd imagine #dont call me that

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greensleevesredlipstick · 5 years ago

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friday night lights

this is a high school AU where cleves is the school jock and howard is a cheerleader. hope you guys like it!! i wrote this on mobile so i can’t add a read more IM SORRY IK IT’s ANNOYING im gonna fix it as soon as i get home. also i can’t decide if i want a second part so lmk if u guys want one lol

the whistle blew, signaling the end of lacrosse practice. anna jogged in with the rest of the team. she said “good hustle girls!! make sure to get a good nights sleep before the big game tomorrow!!” chattering with the girls, she headed towards the locker room. her coach pulled her aside. he said “cleves, i’m really proud of you this year. i wasn’t sure about making you captain, but i know i made the right choice.” he grinned and gave high five. she jogged away, grabbing a spare ball as she went. she was flush with nervous energy, hoping that the teams hard work would pay off in the first round of playoffs. quickly changing her clothes, she headed to her car. it was her baby; a 2002 chevy pick up truck, paid for with hours and hours of work at the local diner. the first time Kat saw it, she said “it’s a testament to how much i love you, that i’m willing to get into this piece of junk”. Anna rolled her eyes: “Kat, you don’t even have a car. you’re lucky that i let you anywhere near my baby”. feigning offense, she said “your BABY? i thought i was your baby”. chuckling, Anna had replied “always, love”. now, she swung by the front of the school, honking at the freshmen milling about. her nerves about the game disappeared as she spotted the cheerleading team. picking out the familiar pink ponytail, anna’s face lit up.

hugging the other girls goodbye, katherine hopped in the car. anna pulled her in for a kiss. tasting the cheerleader’s bubble gum, she slipped her tongue into Kat’s mouth. kat giggled, then threaded her fingers through Anna’s short hair. a bang on the hood of the truck startled them from their haze of passion. it was their friend Tyler, a football player. anna honked at him, and he yelled “get a room, you two!” laughing as they drove off, Katherine said “speaking of getting a room, i think my parents are going out tomorrow night. want to come over after the game?” grabbing Kat’s hand, Anna said “you know id love nothing more, baby”. too soon, they reached the cheerleader’s house. turning off the engine, Anna turned to face her girlfriend. her sassy demeanor vanishing now that they were alone, she said softly “babe, i’m worried about the game tomorrow. what if i can’t pull it off? we’re playing the top ranked team in the county”. kat gave Anne’s hand a squeeze. “i know your hard work will pay off love, i just know it. and if it doesn’t? then it just means we’ll have more time together”. anne smiled weakly at this, but Kat could tell she was still worried. “look” she said softly. “i see how hard you work. you’re the first there and last to leave. your already took the team from last place to playoffs. plus, you have the best cheerleader out there rooting for you”. anne blushed. pulling katherine in for a hug, she said “i wish i could take you out tonight, but i’ve gotta get to bed early”. opening the door, kat replied “i just know you’ll smash it. love you, babe” and hopped out. grinning as she watched the cheerleader skip to the door, Anna whistled as she pulled away.

the next day at school, all Anna could think about was the game. as she walked through the hallway, people called out to her “you got this one, Cleves!” or “i’ll catch you at the game” and she only nodded in response. sensing Anne’s nervousness, Katherine grabbed the athlete’s varsity jacket from her arms. seeing Katherine wearing her jacket, with “Cleves” sewn on the back, always put a smile on Anne’s face. plus, katherine loved to show off that she was dating the captain of the lacrosse team. after school, Anne headed to the locker room with the rest of the team to get ready. Kat peeked her head in, wanting to give Anne one more kiss before the game. spotting the pink ponytail, Anna jogged over. wrapping her arms around her girlfriend, she joked “babe, you know you can’t be here before games. how am i supposed to focus when the most gorgeous girl in town is here?” Katherine blushed and gave Anna a peck on the cheek. “for good luck” she winked. as she turned to leave, Anna couldn’t help but admire her. “it wasn’t fair that the cheerleaders wore such cute uniforms” she thought as she watched Kat’s skirt twirl. heading back to rejoin the team, she finally pulled her thoughts from her girlfriend to the game.

two minutes left. tie game. Anna’s heart was pounding as her team huddled for the final time. they turned to their captain, in desperate need of motivation. she said “girls, i know we have it in us. all those early mornings were be worth it, no matter which way this game goes. i’m so proud of this team.” she paused. “that said, let’s go out there and SMASH IT. we’re not done yet. get out there and kill it.” the girls sprinted onto the field, a new fire inside. over the roar of the crowd, Anna could just make out a voice cheering “GET EM, BABE!!”. as the whistle blew, Anna waited for her opening. seeing the ball fly out of her opponents stick, she knew it was now or never. scooping up the ball in one fluid motion, Anna flew down the field. dodging an opponent, she thundered down the field. as time expired, she faked and then shot. squeaking past the goalies reach, it landed in the corner of the net. time seemed to stand still as Anna realized she had just scored the winning goal.

her teammates exploded, charging from around the field to get to her. they landed in a heap in front of the net, Anna at the bottom of the dog pile. once the mob finally dispersed, Kat sprinted over. leaping into her girlfriends arms, she squealed as Anna spun her around. “i always knew you could do it, babe”. Anna kissed her, tasting of sweat but not caring. after a moment, they broke apart and she said “i’ve got to get back to the team, but wait for me to go home”. Kat replied “always, love” and went to pack up her things. when Anna entered the locker room, the team erupted. once the cheering died down, her coach wrapped her in a bear hug. “atta girl” he said. “i knew you could do it”. after the celebrations had been exhausted, the girls began to filter out of the locker room. “cleves, you’re coming to the party right?” asked Sam, one of her teammates. Anna grinned and said “i wish, but i’ve got a better place to be”. rolling her eyes and making a kissy face, Sam said “tell the lucky girl that i say hey”. Anna suddenly found herself alone in the locker room. taking a minute to catch her breath, she sat down on the bench. she thought of everything that had lead her to this moment-the time spent as an awkward little girl, always tripping over her long limbs. she pictured a freshman Anna, who wanted to practice instead of hang out with boys. she pictured herself finally coming out to her team, and how their acceptance had made her feel. she remembered the first time she saw Katherine, a transfer student who had immediately caught her eye. she didn’t know quite how she got so lucky, but she couldn’t control her grin as she realized she was in a position that freshman Anna could only dream of. captain of the lacrosse team, on its way to divisionals, with a hot cheerleader at her side. almost on cue, she felt a hand on her shoulder. “i thought i would find you here” Kat said softly. “what’s on your mind, babe?” Anna said “i just don’t know what i’ve done to deserve this. i can’t quite believe i’m here”. grinning, Kat replied “well, believe it. you’re the jock with the cheerleader girlfriend, and i think it’s about time you took me home”. overcome with happiness, Anna simply scooped up the younger girl. wrapping Kat once again in her varsity jacket, they headed towards the parking lot. as they pulled away from the school, both girls’ hearts were pounding in anticipation at a night spent alone together.

#six #six the musical #six fanfic #six fanfiction #six the musical imagine #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fanfiction #anna of cleves #katherine howard #high school au

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serendipitys-lie · 5 years ago

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Daughter of the Village Chief// H.H. x Female Reader Pt. 1

Warnings (throughout story): Slight mentions of sexual things, sexual misconduct, rape, and cuss words.

Wow so lowkey this is kinda bad and there’s not a lot of Harry in this right now but this is more of a intro chapter and a setting up the story chapter to what’s to come! If anything confuses you feel free to dm me. I also take requests so please feel free to ask as well :)

Summary: Being the daughter of Moana did have its perks from time to time. The ocean who once was a friend of hers had now grown to be a friend of yours and you wouldn’t have known what you would’ve done without it. However one day might come to pass where you will need to know the truth about your past. The real truth. Because all though you had been swimming with the ocean and talking to tefiti all your life, being at auradon was about to change everything and bring the biggest twist to your life, that your mom might not even be your mom and that a certain pirate was soon to be someone to love and not to hate.

“28.... 29..... 30!”

Suddenly light, light everywhere as you took your hands off your eyes and took in all the sights to see.

You were currently in a game of hide and seek with your favorite friend, the ocean.

“Hmmmm I wonder where you went ocean....” you began, sarcastically looking around. “Maybe..... there! Got you!”

Pointing at the water, suddenly the ocean seemed to rise up and nod in response. You laughed at the body of water, clearly it having no where else to hide every time so you were always destined to win.

“Alright how about best 50 outa 100?” You asked, tying up your H/C locks up.

“Yeah I don’t think so little one”

You froze at the voice already knowing who it was.

“Hey Uncle Maui! I was just about to go to bed I swear but isn’t the sunset just so beautiful? haha...”

You tried so hard to stall your time but your Uncle always could see through just like he could with your mom.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he began. “You have a big day tomorrow remember, first day at a great school with great new people! Better than being stuck on this small little island village for the rest of your life! Now come on, you need to be in bed right now so you can wake up early tomorrow and wish everyone bye.”

The new school he was talking about was in a kingdom called Auradon, meaning that the school was obviously fit to be called “Auradon Prep” run by a King named Rolland and his wife. You wanted so desperately not to go, you weren’t a princess or elegant at all! You were adventurous, outspoken and the daughter of the village Chieftess, yet you would have to fake a smile and go anyway to please your mother and make the village proud.

You sighed and bid the ocean goodnight returning to your cot and resting for the next day.

When the morning did come you made sure to wake up extra early to do all your favorite things on the island for a final time. You helped Hei Hei escape a crazy cook, played tag with Pua, hide and seek with the ocean, and had a lovely girl talk with Tefiti to whom you poured your heart and soul out to.

It was soon time to leave and You hugged your mother tightly, tears pouring down your cheeks. You really would miss the island, a friend as much as the ocean and much more, a home.

Saying your goodbyes to everyone, a black limo then pulled up, the royal car to Auradon. Out stepped a young boy, no older than you, who looked to be about fourteen or fifteen. He smiled a bright smile at you, the creases of his eyes going up in the process.

“Hello I’m Ben!” He exclaimed. “I’m the soon to be future king of Auradon. It was my idea to invite you to join our school, I’m trying to branch out to more students from around the world and you just happen to be the first person I chose! I’m really glad you’re joining us and I hope we can get to know each other some more and become good friends!”

He stuck his hand out for you to shake smiling all the while long. Shy and like a small child, you hid behind your mother slightly peering over at him. You couldn’t help but stare into his eyes. You saw something in them, almost longing, as if in for a friend. You swallowed any ounce of fear you had and walked forward towards him grabbing his hand and watching his smile somehow increase even more.

“I’m Y/N. I hope we can become good friends too.”

~~~~~~~~~~

About three to four years later and here you were. A young woman, sprawled all over her bed, studying for a stupid final that was going to kill her.

“Ughhhhhh” you groaned out in frustration.

“Come on Y/N it’s really not that hard I promise!” said your roommate of almost three years now Lonnie. She was a beautiful girl and was one of your closest friends. Being the daughter of Mulan gave her excellent agility and intelligence as well.

“I know it’s not but it’s just... UGHHH!!!” You screeched in annoyance and anger at the problem on the paper.

“Knockity Knockity! How are my favorite princesses doing?” you heard a voice say, looking up at the doorframe to see it was only the new king and your first ever friend, Ben.

“Ok one im not your favorite princess for sure, and two Y/N is the daughter of the Chieftess! Not a princess.” Said Lonnie knowing how annoyed you’d get whenever someone confused the two.

You slowly perked up from the bed at the sight of Ben. You never got to see your best friend due to all of the new duties he had and all the new students he had to deal with.

“Ah Mr. Bennie Boo! How can we help you?” You said teasing him with the nickname his ex Audrey used to call him and his current girlfriend Mal, who kept it alive.

“Haha funny” he began, “hey I actually wanted to ask you a personal question Y/N/N...”

“Oh sure! Of course! Lonnie can you give us a sec?” You asked your brunette friend with apologetic eyes. She simply nodded and smiled leaving, probably going to find her crush Jay and talk with him more.

Ben took a seat next to you on your bed and suddenly became serious.

“Y/N... it’s about Mal. Something has been off with her lately and I don’t know what! I’m asking you because she seems to trust you a lot and tell you everything and I just need to know what’s happening... am I doing something wrong? Is she not happy with me?”

It was true, you and the VK kids had gotten very close when they arrived at Auradon. At first they seemed to hate everyone but because you guys could relate very well with both feeling new to the place and since you weren’t so girly they eventually almost took you in as a VK yourself.

You assured Ben it was nothing and told him to give Mal some space. Yes you knew what she was going through but couldn’t just give away all her secrets to him and betray her trust. You just told him she was going through things and needed to think alone.

He sadly smiled but agreed with your advice, talking a bit more about how life had been treating both of you before he had to return to more kingly duties that awaited him.

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

About two hours later and you were still having no luck in studying for the stupid final that awaited you. Because Lonnie had decided to bring Jay to your shared room to talk and giggle, rather loudly might you add, you simply moved your self to Mal and Evies room thankful no one was there so there would be silence.

Yet not even two minutes after you got there Carlos arrived with duke in tow ready to chill and play around with the dog. When you had first met the VKs you had to admit you had an adorable little crush on him but now... now it was so much more. You began twisting your hair around your finger from the ponytail it was in nervously but tried to remain calm none the less.

“C-Carlos” you began, “as amazing as you are and as much as I love duke I’m really trying to study! Do you think you and duke could possibly play at the park?” It hurt to ask that as the truth was you really didn’t want him to leave but you just needed to study. Little did you know it hurt him a bit too.

“Sorry, I promise to be a good boy and listen to you ahaha” he said getting ready to leave but coming over for a hug before he did so.

“Atta boy! Good boy!” You said playfully giving him a hug and a nice, gentle rub on his head. This definitely earned a small content sigh from the boy but he simply played it off as nothing more.

“I’ll see ya later Y/N/N!” he exclaimed now happy and ready to play with duke. You chucked to yourself and prepared to continue studying when not even ten seconds later Mal came bursting in hyperventilating.

“FUCK STUDYING ITS NEVER GONNA GOSH DARN HAPPEN!!” you swore frustrated at this point but then immediately softened as you saw one of the closest friends you had here burst down in tears. You immediately ran to her side and engulfed her into a hug which she returned sobbing all the way.

“Mal, Mal! Girl are you ok?! What’s wrong? What happened!?!” You asked bombarding her with multiple questions.

“I don’t belong here” she sobbed. “I just wish I could go back to the isle, I can’t be the perfect princess they want me to be...”

you knew you shouldn’t have said it but you were desperate to make your friend happy. You’d do anything to see her smile... even if it meant it could hurt Ben in the process...

“I can take you there... follow me”

~~~~~~~~~~~

And now you were here, at the edge of Auradon overlooking the sea and the isle of the lost sitting on it.

“How are we supposed to get there? This is stupid Y/N.... you don’t have any transportation at all, any magic, nothing! We’re just standing here on the sand and it’s itchy and cold!!! Why did I ever agree to this....” Mal ranted upset and over the whole situation already.

“You’re right I don’t have a vehicle, I don’t have magic, or pixie dust, or a mermaid tail or nothing. I’m an ordinary person. But I do have one thing. I have an old friend...” you stated, satisfied with your answer and began walking towards the water. Mal rolled her eyes thinking you had completely lost it, waiting for your feet to hit the water when suddenly they didn’t and you were walking further and further out and the water around you was retracting more and more.

“Woah....” she gasped amazed at what was happening to her friend.

“Hey... long time no see huh?” You said meekly at the walls of water surrounding you. A mass of water rose higher above you, getting close enough to where you could feel drops on your face, and it nodded.

“Ocean... I know I haven’t spoken to you in a while and I miss the island and you and Tefiti and Mom and Maui and...” you stopped, realizing you were ranting and paused for a bit before continuing. “I need you to help me and a friend cross. We need to get to the isle. I know you might feel forgotten for all the years I never spoke to you but I really need this old friend... I always thought about you and really have wanted to talk! I just haven’t had so much time but I love you and I need this... I promise... once it’s all over I’ll come back and we can play hide and seek like the good old days haha...” you finished with teary eyes and a hopeful smile.

Mal watched in amusement at the sentimental scene playing before her. The mass of water inched closer to you and sucked up your

H/C locks into a swirl of water as if to playfully tease you. You giggled and took that as a “yes” and an “I forgive you” urging Mal to edge near so you both could cross.

After introducing the two you had made it closer to the isle and one more step closer to Mal’s happiness. What you didn’t know however was it was also one step closer to revealing who you truly were.

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

As you were wandering on the shore of the Isle with Mal you began to discuss more of a plan to everything. After bidding farewell to the ocean you both would go to dizzy tremaine’s salon and give Mal a new doo and you some new “blending in” clothes. It was really the only way to not stand out in the giant crowd of thieves and beggars.

When you had finally arrived at the place Mal shared a long over due reunion with the little girl and introduced you to her. She was quite kind to you despite it being the isle and gave you a bunch of leather outfits covered in spikes to make you fit in more. To add a finishing touch she let your hair down, letting some natural curls fall all around you. You thanked her thousands and told Mal you were going to go out and explore to which she warned you to be careful and then let you leave.

~~~~~~~~~

Among many annoying sketchy shops you came across while wandering the isle you found something that drew you to it. A voodoo shop. One that could tell things about you that you didn’t even know.

You couldn’t understand why but next thing you knew you were walking inside the green door to the very sketchy shop. As you looked around you saw a very young girl who looked about dizzys age. Once she saw you a smile spread to her face.

“Hello miss! Step right up! Have a seat! I can tell you things you’ve needed to know your whole life” she said with a gleam in her eye. And so you did. You sat in the seat at the red clothed table and watched her intently.

“Pick a card any card!” She exclaimed. “You can’t see the card but I will. I’ll read whatever facts are on the card about your life.” You knew there was no way any of this could be true but you just simply nodded and picked a random card anyway.

“Well miss lets see... Definitely not a princess but definitely not a VK either so more in the middle. Daughter of a Chieftess I’m guessing huh?” She asked. You nodded again.

“Well” she continued, “you like the water and the ocean is a friend of yours. You are really close friends with a certain group of VKs and a certain King may I add. and.... woah! What do we have here! Some family history and drama!”

“W-what? What is it?” You began more curious and curious to know what could possibly be wrong with your family.

“Honey have you ever asked about your father?”

“N-no” you responded. You had always wondered about that. Your mother never seemed like the type to settle down or fall for a guy but yet you were still here somehow.

“Honey I hate to break it to you,” she started. “But your mother isn’t your mother. Your real mother had you and couldn’t keep you and so she tossed you in a basket into the sea. The ocean washed you up on the shore of the island of your mother and that’s where your mother adopted and raised you.”

“W-what!?? But then... who are my real parents! What happened what....” you couldn’t think straight, your mind was a mess of thoughts.

“You’re mother was a kind soul. A Native American named tiger lily born and raised on Neverland. She was a daughter of a great chief as well and fell greatly in love with a man. Eventually this man broke her heart and left her for another girl leaving your mother devastated. When he finally wanted to have some fun again he... I’m so sorry.... he raped your mother and created you... Tiger lily in fear that he would find you and hurt you sent you away to where the ocean saved you.”

You could not breathe! Everything was getting tighter but you just had to know one more thing.

“Who... who was the man?”

“They call him.... Peter Pan.” And with that you were out. You slammed some money on the counter and ran, running as far as you could away from everything. Tears began to spill down your cheeks, the world feeling all too small. You despised your father.. how could he? And how could your mother never tell you? What was happening?!??

You were so focused on every new thought swimming in your head you didn’t notice someone was walking in front of you and you crashed right into them.

#harry hook imagine #harry hook #decendants #disney #disney decendants #decendants 2 #captain hook #what am i even doing #imagines

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team-free-winchester · 6 years ago

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Im Not Jealous

Summary: While on a hunt Jack gets closer to one of the young waitresses than your comfortable with and back at the motel the boys corner you about it.

Pairing: Jack Kline x reader

Warnings:

Prompt #3: “Im not jealous.”

You sat beside Jack in the booth of whatever dinner you guys seen first and listened to Sam and Dean go back and forth until the waitress showed up to get your order. She was exactly Dean’s type only she looked closer to the same age as you and Jack. At first you figured that would throw Dean off and you wouldn’t have to spend your meal listening to him flirt with the woman handling you food but, the smirk plastered across his face gave you another idea. She took your order and walked away with a sway of her hips capturing the attention of all three men at the table with you, once she was out of view Dean turns towards Jack and urges, “You should totally flirt with her..she seems to be your age.”

“Flirt..with her?” Jack says questioningly causing you to fight back a giggle at his cuteness.

“Yeah you know tell her you think she’s pretty, get her number, something.”

“I’ve never done something like that,” Jack mumbles hesitantly.

“Of course you haven’t,” Dean groans, “listen this is a great learning experience okay, when she comes back just compliment her.”

Listening to the exchange you roll your eyes earning a nudge under the table from Sam. Glancing at him you shrug before the waitress shows back up, setting our drinks onto the table she takes out her notepad again and rights down our meals before Jack blurts out, “you look beautiful,” causing the girl to break out in a rosy blush and surry away.

Dean then turns to Jack and says, “Okay that was a good start.”

You shift in your seat dropping your gaze to your cup as you attempt to ignore the men around you. After a few minutes you feel a nudge to your foot causing you to look up just in time for the waitress to come back with your food. As she passed it out to each of you she made sure to push her chest out more before sending a smirk Jacks way and strutting away with a sway of her hips. The exchange left Jack watching her form retreat and your stomach clenching at the thought of him bringing home girls from every bar like Dean does at times. Swallowing the lump that slowly began to form itself in your throat you began picking at the food you no longer wanted to eat.

By the end of the meal the waitress came back more times than necessary to check if anyone needed anything though her focus was solely on Jack the whole time. You were beyond annoyed by the end of your meal and wanted nothing more than to leave the state itself and go back to the bunker case complete or not. At the end Jack brought the bill up personally to our waitress and took his time talking to her causing me to roll my eyes and glare at the table.

“Are you jealous?” Dean asks gruffly causing your head to whip up.

“What?” you ask confused.

“You’re acting different and have been since I started teaching Jack how to flirt, so are you jealous of the waitress or something?” He asks bluntly.

Shaking your head you throw a bitch face his way before scoffing, “I’m not jealous.”

Sam snorts just before Jack makes his way back to the table causing the conversation end and you all to stand and leave the dinner. As we pull out of the lot Dean looks in the mirror towards you and Jack with a smirk before asking, “So Jack what did you two talk about? you two were over there talking a while.”

“She gave me her number and said call her at six, for what i’m not sure yet but i’ll find out then I guess,” Jack answers him with a proud smile and a shrug not truly understanding the full intent of what was going to happen.

Your stomach clenched as Dean cheered an “atta boy” towards Jack before continuing to explain what would happen if he called her later that night. You leaned your head against the window and ignored the whole conversation going on in the car until you pulled into the motel causing you to dash towards your room avoiding all three of them. Sam, Dean, and, Jack watched you rush off in confusion until Sam glanced towards Dean who then realized what was happening. After silently having a conversation with each other Dean lead Jack towards the opposite room while Sam went to check on you. Pulling out the other key the the room he slips inside, his eyes constantly scanning the room for you.

“Y\n?” Sam calls out once he doesn't spot you on either of the bed nore at the table tucked away in the corner, “Y\n!”

“What?” you ask coming out of the bathroom, eyes slightly puffy and red from crying though even if he asked you wouldn’t admit it.

“I was coming to see if you’re okay, you rushed to the room the moment Dean parked the car and you’ve obviously been crying,” Sam says worriedly before taking a step towards you almost as if he was worried what you may do.

“Im fine Sam,” You reply sharply before walking towards your bed avoiding the younger Winchester’s gaze.

“Please y/n,” Sam sighs, “I know how you feel about Jack and Dean does now too and seeing him flirt with some waitress must have been hard-”

“I said I was fine Sam,” I mumble before looking over to the door where Jack hesitantly stood momentarily then turning on your heels and heading for the bathroom, “ I'm going to take a shower.”

When you exited the bathroom sometime later Jack was seated on the bed that didn’t have your things on it with his back to you, Sam was no longer in the room much too your delight because you knew if he were it would only lead to more questioning. You went through the motions of everything you needed to do in silence, not once speaking Jack incase he brought up his date.

“Dean says you’re jealous of my date,” Jack says suddenly causing your hands to freeze mid brush swipe.

“Did he now?” you ask softly though you knew he heard you.

“Yeah,” Jack answers softly before pausing, “He said that happens when you think someone else is getting what you want,” he continued slowly.

“He’s not wrong,” you whisper with your back still to him.

“So you were jealous you couldn’t go on a date?”

“No Jack, I was jealous you wanted her instead of me,” you explain finally turning to look at him.

“How could I not want you?” he asks in shock and confusion, “I may not know very many human habits, but I do know that you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

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antoncutedobin · 6 years ago

Text

a little mistake. part nine!

part 1. part 2. part 3. part 4. part 5. part 6. part 7. part 8. masterlist.

requested? kinda????

summary! friends with benefits just got a whole lot more complicated from the result of a pregnancy test.

warnings! angst then fluff.

word count! 2449.

authors note! hello! its finally here. oh my god. this took forever. im so sorry. it starts out angsty but ends super super fucking fluffy holy shit. i hope u like it im sorry if its a disappointment

It was no use; you were getting bigger by the second, it felt. You tried to button the pants one last time before you gave up and sat down on the bed, your head in your hands.

It might be dramatic but you immediately started to cry, feeling overly unattractive and frustrated.

Tyler walked in, pausing to see all the clothes lying on the floor, which was unlike you. You usually always yelled at him when he left his stuff everywhere, and this was his first clue that something was wrong.

He saw you with your head in your hands and walked over, sitting next to you and pulling you into his arms. “What’s wrong, princess?”

You sniffled and wiped your nose on the back of your hand before shoving your head into his chest. “Nothing fits!”

Tyler caressed your hair, a soft chuckle falling from his lips.

You pulled back, looking him in the eye. “Did you just laugh at me?”

He grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. “You’re pregnant, babe. It’s not like you’re supposed to be skinny.”

You scoffed loudly, standing from his embrace and putting your hands on your hips. “What, do you think I’m fat?”

Tyler gulped slightly, reaching out for you and cringing when you knocked his hand away. “Babe… You know it doesn’t matter to me if you’ve picked up a few pounds…”

You tried to ignore the hurt as it burned your throat, your eyes watering. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been growing our child. Sorry I can’t be like the supermodels you’re always lusting after.” You began angrily taking off the pants that wouldn’t button, throwing them into the garbage can and pulling a pair of Tyler’s sweats on.

Tyler stood, irritably pushing his hands through his hair. “Why would you even say that? You know all I want is you.”

You let out a harsh laugh before shaking your head. “You haven’t even looked at me for weeks! I’ve seen you checking out other girls. You’re probably waiting for me to push this kid out so you can go be with them.”

He sputtered, shaking his head. “That’s a damn lie… I haven’t looked at anyone else. The fact is, you’re the one looking at the other girls, because you miss being thin. While you’ve been looking at them, I’ve been looking at you.”

Biting your lip, you refused to acknowledge he was right. “You know what? Why don’t you just go be with one of them.” Your heart fell to your stomach as he left the room.

Falling onto the bed, you clutched your stomach and let the tears fall down your cheeks. “Why do you make mommy feel so irrational?” You sighed softly, stroking your stomach. “No, I know… It’s not your fault. I…” A sob cut off your voice as you felt guilt for taking your emotions out on everyone around you. “I hope your daddy comes back… and I hope he doesn’t hate me…”

You closed your eyes and drifted off for a little bit.

Tyler took a gulp of the beer in his glass as Jamie slapped his shoulder notifying him of his presence.

Knocking on the bar counter, Tyler motioned for the bartender to pour Jamie a drink.

Jamie shook his head, “can you give me two waters?” He reached out, pulling the glass of beer away from Tyler. “You have a pregnant girlfriend at home, Segs, not cool.”

“She’s being a bitch…” Tyler mumbled softly, his cheeks rosy from the alcohol. He rolled his eyes as Jamie pushed a glass of water to him. He raised the cup and took a drink, “Happy, Mom?”

It was Jamie’s turn to roll his eyes now, but he was glad Tyler was listening to him. “What happened?”

Tyler recounted the evening’s events, finishing the glass of water and slamming it down onto the bar. “You know damn well I haven’t had eyes for another woman, Chubbs.”

Jamie stroked his beard in thought, pushing the other glass of water to Tyler. “You do realize that you basically said she was fat, correct?”

Tyler spit out the sip of water in his mouth onto the bar. He gave a sheepish look to the bartender who grumbled angrily. “I did not.”

“You might not have said it, but you alluded to it. I’m not saying she wasn’t being slightly neurotic, because she was, but she’s pregnant. Have you never heard of pregnancy hormones?” He paused, coughing slightly. “Plus… She’s probably really insecure right now. Katie told me that Y/N said she didn’t feel attractive enough for you and that’s why she’s been turning down invitations to events… She said she didn’t wanna embarrass you.”

Tyler gripped the glass in his hand, looking at Jamie in shock. “She told me she’s been tired… I thought she was losing interest in me…”

Jamie let out a chuckle, “Looks like it’s all a big misunderstanding, Segs.”

Standing up and slapping a few bills on the table, Tyler turned to Jamie. “Wanna give me a ride back? I need to fix this.”

Proud, Jamie stood and clapped Tyler on the shoulder. “Atta boy.”

You woke to a dog’s nose being stuck in your face, soft huffs of air disturbing you. “Which one of you is it this time?” You opened your eyes to see brown fur, “Marshall?”

It surprised you because Marshall wasn’t usually one to wake you for things. Gerry and Cash would jump on you when they needed something, but Marshall was always content to sleep peacefully with you. “What is it, buddy?”

You climbed up from the bed, groaning as you placed your hands on your lower back, trying to sooth the sore muscles. Marshall gave an impatient bark at the door, his tail wagging. “Alright, alright, I’m coming.”

You followed him all the way into the kitchen, “are you hungry?”

But when you rounded the corner, you were surprised to see a bouquet of roses. Your eyes immediately watered at the sight of them. You grabbed the vase, pulling them close to your nose and inhaling their sweet scent.

Marshall sat obediently next to you, licking your palm. You scratched behind his ear, knowing he wanted his parents to make up.

Tyler came in from the back door, stopping short as he looked at you. His brows furrowed, “I thought you were asleep…” Looking down, he saw Marshall, and rolled his eyes. “Really dude? You ruined my surprise?”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “He didn’t ruin it, Ty… I’m still pleasantly surprised.”

He walked closer to you, taking your hands in his. “This time I’m not asking the florist to write what I need to say to you.”

A tear escaped your eyes as you remembered his bouquet with an apology letter attached to it. You’d come so far from that point…

“In fact, there’s not much I can say. I’d rather show you.” He tugs on your hand, leading you to the backyard.

It’s dark outside and you look up and see the stars, which always remind you of Tyler. His thumb swipes at your cheek, catching your tears. You look into his eyes and open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. You’re too happy.

He shakes his head, cradling your face in his palms. “You don’t need to say anything, babe. Just let me make you realize how much I love you.”

His hands fall to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head, exposing your breasts to the night air. Briefly you thank the lords that he has a gate around his yard and no neighbors close by.

He pulls his own shirt off and hugs you to him, pressing your head to his heart. “You hear that? It beats for you… And our baby.” The tears stain his chest before he moves to your sweatpants pulling them down. On the way back up, his hands caress your stomach, molding themselves to your curves. “You’re beautiful. Every inch of you.”

He moves you, walking you towards the pool. He sheds his shorts before walking down the ladder into the pool, waiting for you with arms open. You bite your lip before sitting on the edge of the pool, shivering as his chilled hands grab your hips. He stands before you, eye level.

Moving close to you, he presses his forehead against yours, his fingers rubbing circles into your hips. “You’re the only one I see, the only one who completes me.” He moves his face, nuzzling into your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, delighting in this intimate act.

You decide to be brave and push off the edge, standing in the shallow water with Tyler. Wrapping your arms around his middle, you rest your head on his heart, pressing a kiss to his chest. He hugs you close to him, his wet hand playing with your hair.

After a few moments, you release him, leaning back into the water. The warm air hits your face and contrasts beautifully with the chilled water. Goosebumps appear on your skin, your eyes fluttering shut.

Tyler’s hands hold you steady, one hand under your back and the other cupping your stomach. “You’re radiant.” He murmurs, kissing your stomach. “I’ve never seen a more beautiful person.”

You both spend a fair amount of time cuddling in the water before the chill gets to be too much for you and you drift towards the ladder.

Tyler supports you as you climb out of the pool, before getting out himself.

He wraps a fluffy towel around you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I love you. Will you let me treasure you?” He whispers softly, his fingers pushing your chin up so your eyes meet.

You nod softly, “I love you, too.”

At these words he sweeps you into his arms, without a hint of complaint. You giggle in surprise, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. He carries you inside, and you close your eyes as he rocks you with his melodic steps. You only open them when you feel yourself being laid on a soft bed.

Tyler gazes at you, his eyes tracing every beautiful curve. “You’re everything to me… Don’t you know that? You’re my girl. My other half.” His sweet words are punctuated with kisses and tender touches.

He spends his time caressing every inch of you, kissing everywhere he can. He settles between your thighs, eyes trained on yours. He never looks away, even as he brings you to orgasm gently.

Once you’ve come down, he works his way back up your body with butterfly kisses, all the way up to your mouth. His hand strokes your cheek as his mouth makes love to yours, his other hand stroking the bundle of nerves between your legs, bringing your lust to life.

“Tyler… I need you inside me.” You say the words softly, wanting nothing more than to be one with him.

He nods, shifting you to the side and laying behind you. He raises your leg on top of his and pushes himself inside of you while letting out a soft gasp. He thrusts slowly and gently, as if he has all the time in the world. He kisses your neck in the same manner, no urge in his body to speed things up.

It could have been hours or minutes, but eventually you both reach your peaks, and your orgasm is cathartic. As he reaches his climax inside of you, you shatter, tears falling from your eyes from the intensity of his love.

You turn in his embrace, your hands grasping his face and kissing him lovingly. Once you pull apart, he looks down at you, eyes watering at the sight of your tears, but knowing they’re not ones of sadness. He presses his forehead against yours as he breathes deeply, before his lips kiss each of your tears away.

He cradles you in his embrace before he feels a nudge against his stomach, looking down at you in surprise.

You are shocked as well, your hands falling to cradle your stomach, delighting in the feel of the baby kicking. She had been fluttering around and you had felt it but this was the first time she had actually kicked hard enough that Tyler could feel it.

You burst out in tears, a smile stretching your lips. Tyler looked down at you in wonder, pressing his hands against your tummy.

As if on cue, the baby kicked his hands, and he let out a gasp, blinking back tears.

“Apparently she doesn’t like when her parents fight either…” You said softly, causing Tyler to laugh.

“I think she really wants her mommy to accept daddy’s apology…” He smirks softly, kissing your lips gently.

“Well, little one, your daddy is only forgiven if he also forgives mommy for acting like a jerk and taking her insecurities out on him.” The tone of your voice was joking and Tyler picked up on it, pursing his lips like he was thinking about it.

You rolled your eyes playfully, smacking his arm. “I forgive you too, pretty girl.”

Your lips met his and almost immediately, tiny flurries of kicks erupted from your stomach. “Do you think she already thinks her parents kissing is gross?” You laughed softly, raising your eyebrows.

Tyler shook his head. “I hope she thinks kissing is gross. Boys have cooties.” He raised his voice on the last sentence as if he was hoping his daughter could hear him and understand what he said.

“Well in that case, I guess I should probably move away from you… I wouldn’t want to get cooties…” As you said this, you shimmied backwards.

He reached towards you and pulled you back while chuckling. “Men don’t have cooties. Just boys. I’m clearly all man.”

Rolling your eyes, you joked, “the jury’s still out on that one. I think you’re a naughty boy.”

Tyler gasped in faux indignation, “Naughty boy! I’ll show you a naughty boy.” He pulled you close and kissed your neck quickly and chastely, as many times as it took for you to finally giggle and push him back.

“I love you, Ty.” You said softly, smiling as a kick accentuated your words. “She loves you, too.”

One of Tyler’s hands cradled your stomach while the other cradled your face. “I guess this proves I’m a ladies man because I love both of my girls.”

He smothered your giggle with a kiss, ignoring your eye roll because he knew that even though you said you hated his cheesy jokes, you secretly loved them.

You would never tell him that he was right.

#my writing #tyler seguin imagine #tyler seguin imagines #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #a little mistake #a little mistake fic #tyler seguin #fluff

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