#I finally got chpt 6 out

[sapphireshineonao3]

Chapters: 6/? Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Furina & Neuvillette (Genshin Impact), Arlecchino/Furina (Genshin Impact), Furina/Sandrone (Genshin Impact), Arlecchino/Furina/Sandrone (Genshin Impact) Characters: Furina (Genshin Impact), Neuvillette (Genshin Impact), Arlecchino (Genshin Impact), Sandrone (Genshin Impact), Clorinde (Genshin Impact), Tartaglia | Childe (Genshin Impact) Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Angst, Furina-centric (Genshin Impact), Furina Needs a Hug (Genshin Impact), Insecure Furina (Genshin Impact), Furina has a cryo vision, Fatui!Furina, Manipulation, Pet Names, Toxic Relationships, Toxic dynamic, Unhealthy Relationships Summary:

After the events of the prophecy, Furina vanishes from Fontaine. No matter who looked, or how long they looked, the former, fake, hydro archon couldn't be found anywhere.

Neuvillette finally discovers her fate a few months afterwards during a diplomatic meeting with the Harbinger Sandrone.

[starrywooyo]

treasure: five

synopsis: when y/n gets whooshed into an alternate universe, an adventure: one with pirates and monsters and much, much more

pairing: ot8! pirate ateez x fem! reader

genre: pirate au!!

!!warnings(per chapter)!! - [bellow cut!] no warnings I think? but of anyone thinks there should be please lmk!!

notes: hihi finally y'all are getting an update!! I decided to split this chapter in half so I can work on writing it a bit longer and so I can at least give you something to read since work is taking up a lot of my time so I apologise for the short chapter, I promise chpt 6 will be much longer and more fun hehe

word count: 1.1K (very short i'm so sorry-)

taglist: (if you want removed or added to the list please lmk)

@toxic-babexe , @sunnyhokyu , @cambriel

if if missed anyone again just let me know!

series masterlist | main masterlist

previous chapter | next chapter

previously:

his hands on your waist steadied you from the recoil 

the glass had shattered!!.

“better?” he whispered

you nod

“thank you” you turn to look at him his hands still on your waist

he was so close..

you saw how his eyes looked into yours, how he took in a shaky breath

“y/n I..” he whispered

you both were so close that your noses where almost touching, that you could almost ki-

a loud terrifying shriek comes from the forest.

wooyoung's quick to grab the pistol from you and aim it in the direction the noise came from

“w-what was that!?” you ask trying to steady your breathing

“the beast” hongjoong said eyes bore into you both. 

“beast?” you ask

hongjoong just nods as he too looks into the forest

“mmh didn't yeosang tell you?” he says

yeosang didn't tell you anything… though he did say it was dangerous, maybe that's what he meant.

“all he said was that it was dangerous here” you explained 

hongjoong laughed

“aye. it's a dangerous beastie alright. however i don't think it'll be bothering us for now” he says eyes heavily studying the forest. he then turns to wooyoung.

“put the gun away. and both of you head back. eat and rest up.” he says to the pair of you

wooyoung lowers the gun. “and what about you captain?” he asks

“i've got something i need to take care of” he says and makes his way further down the beach.

you both watch him till he's nearly out if your sight.

wooyoung turns to you and hands you back the smaller pistol

“ere you should keep this one” he smiles to you and then gestures back to camp “lets go get somethin to eat before it's all gone”

...

you're all trudging through the forest, have been for a good few hours at most. surrounded by nature and the sounds of nature. from the way the trees creak from the wind to the birds chirping, nesting in them.

its peaceful without the thought of a ‘beast’... roaming these parts at the back of your mind.

you're dragged from your thoughts when you  come to stop at a swamp like water, hongjoong who was at the front of the line wastes no time in dragging everyone through the water 

the water came to about mid thigh and filled all your boots making them feel uncomfortable.

the water was made your feet feel numb and when you finally exited, the squelching of your wet boots was so uncomfortable. still you continued on.

you continued walking until you came to this weird run down looking house in the swamp with a few other shacks dotted about

you all walked up the steps to the door when hongjoong turned around and pointed to you

“ah. you stay out here” he says.

your eyebrows furrow

“what?” 

“just stay out here” and then the eight of them pile into the house leaving you on the steps.

so you sit legs dangling above the water watching the little fish swim by in the water below. you don't know how long you've been sitting out here 

you were bored out of your mind then a bright light flew in front of your face. a fairy!!

having been so bored out of your mind you decided to follow it. despite being told to stay.

you walked after the creature a little ways into the forest away from the house till it landed onto a low tree branch

placing one of your hands on the same branch you looked at the tiny creature.

it was small, adorned in green clothing with white hair. it smiled up at you placing its tiny hands on your finger-

 “ouch” you pulled your hand away

“you bit me” you exclaim looking at the blood slowly seeping out from the little bite wound

“it's a pixie. little mischievous devils” a male voice laughs out

turning to the voice still holding your finger

San..

“here let me see your finger” he says walking closer to you taking your finger to examine it.

“it stings a bit” you tell the dark haired man with a pout.

“hmm i bet it does. the little rascals have pretty sharp teeth. you thought it was a fairy right?” he asks while cleaning the spot.

you nod.

“it's pretty easy to confuse the two. fairies are much sweeter though” he says with a smile as he wraps your finger with a small bandage.  “there all done” he adds, dropping your finger.

you thank him.

“come on. the others are finished now we're gonna head back” he said placing his hand on your back.

and with that you follow him back to the house, everyone is standing back outside only there's a new face. a woman?.

“i'll join you tomorrow” she says to the captain then her eyes fall on you where she squints her eyes tilting her head to the side, then she smirks and walks back inside.

strange...

...

the woman from the shack in the forest has joined you all on the ship and has been with the crew for the past few days, you wonder why she's on board when the captains ideals with you a while ago were so negative. 

you've asked the likes of San and Yeosang why she's here yet they all just brush it off saying it's 'something you don't need to worry about just now' 

so you sit legs dangling over the edge of the ship as you watch the calm waves spread out over the vast ocean. all the work and ship maintenance done before supper 

“you're not from ere are you?” 

your head snaps in the direction. its her...

“is it that obvious?” you ask her

she lets out a laugh

“no. no i mean you're not form here. this world” she explains

your eyes widen. how does she know that- if anyone else was to find out who knows what would happen!?

she again lets out a small laugh.

“the sea knows many things y/n. now if you'll excuse me, I've to help the captain with something” and she walks away.

you're put on edge from her she wouldn't say anything to hongjoong right? maybe-

“y/n.. you okay?” 

you turn to the voice, its seonghwa. you nod to his question.

“you look stressed, i was calling you to help with supper but maybe you should take the night away from helping, get some rest?” he says to which you immediately disagree. you have to help. it'll take your mind off things.

“we'll if you're sure..” seonghwa says and begins to move you both toward the kitchen with his hand on the small of your back. 

... 

at dinner you can't help but glance at the captain every once in a while hoping and praying he hasn't been told anything by that woman..

its a quiet dinner until the sound of a chair squeaking back catches everyone's attention.

hongjoong stands, placing his hands in the table, slightly leaning forward. 

“I have some news I want to share” he says 

your breath gets stuck in your throat. He doesn't know, does he??

“i have progress of our voyage for the Cromer.” he adds

everyone now gives him their full attention. 

“thanks to sedna here, we have our heading. it'll be a long, dangerous journey but I know we as a team, a crew. can manage it!! we will get the cromer before they do”

a/n: hihi so again I apologise that this part was so so short, probably not the best chapter in the series so far.. I almost didn't want to post it when i saw how quick it is to scroll through it... you could probably even just class this chapter as a filler tbh..

so I promise the next chapter is much more fun anddddd said next chapter will be posted tonight sometime after 8pm BST (hopefully after I finish work) so if you'd like added to the taglist lmk! and I hope you enjoy!

[jasperygrace]

Last Line Tag

Hi everyone! Guess who survived their finals!

@scifimagpie tagged me in this awhile ago, and now I've got the time to respond.

From An Immortal Laid to Rest, Draft 3, Chpt Vincent-6

“Get out,” Vinnie snapped. Reese refused, arguing for him to just stop and listen. “I SAID GET OUT!!” He grabbed his journal off the nightstand and chucked in Reese’s direction. Reese threw his arms up to protect himself, but the book missed him completely and hit the wall. He could hear its pages flutter and crumple as it hit the floor. It was finally enough to get Reese to leave.

Tagging (gently): @flock-from-the-void @mysticstarlightduck @thomasce and anyone else interested in joining in :^)

[heaven-s-black-box]

Liyue- Dominos chpt.4

Return to File - GI File - TR File - SW File - BSD File

Recovery date: March 14th, 2023

Description: Aether and Lumine take a commission in the Chasm and twelve years later Hinata Tachibana dies as a result of the unchecked activities of the Tokyo Manji gang— all it takes is one domino to tip and the world order will collapse. With three parties unknowingly playing hide and seek with the devil, can the scales be tipped by Takemichi and friends?

Notes: While the entry is corrupted I lost steam there are still partial records, and therefore the entry may yet be recovered. I found part of chapter seven, so I might be able to write more if not finish it

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

Word count: 1 575

Back to directory

Dain let out a long groan as he shifted while waking up, nose being tickled by something under him, and the first thing he noticed was how soft his surroundings were. He was in a real bed, and the last place he remembered being was in the underground of the Chasm. His face was squished into a pillow, and when he finally opened his eyes he found himself facing a window.

He curled his fingers, the rough sheets scratching along his body as he tried to pull himself up. It was when his arms gave out beneath him and he fell back onto his stomach that he realized his shirt was missing.

The door to the room opened with a creak, and Dain slowly turned his head; body far too heavy to move any faster.

“You’re awake,” Aether smiled. “That’s good.”

Opening his mouth, Dain found it unbearably dry and difficult to speak. Noticing his struggle, Aether helped him roll over and sit up before pouring him a cup of water from the nightstand.

“Sorry about the shirt,” he said, sitting down next to the bed, “it’s just out drying right now with your vest, Lumine said she’d stitch up the holes once they were done.”

“Tha-” Dain’s voice broke and he cleared his throat, “thank you.” He took a moment to down the glass of water before speaking again. “Did you find Paimon?”

“No, but we asked a friend to help with a search party, she sent a group of Millelith out to where we were.”

Dain nodded, looking out the window to see where they were.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“A day.”

There was a soft knock at the door and Lumine poked her head in.

“I brought food.”

She set a plate of noodles with mountain delicacies on the side table and brought the desk chair over to sit beside her brother.

Leaning forward with her elbows resting on her knees, she asked, “what happened?”

“Where am I?”

“Wangshuu Inn, now answer the question… please.”

Dain looked over at the plate, and Aether handed it to him; he gave it a quick sniff before taking a small bite. It was good, light and easy to swallow.

“I followed the footprints for a while but I lost them in a giant cavern. Someone jumped me while I was looking for a trail to pick back up and then I blacked out.”

“So someone else was out there with us?”

“So it would seem, and they were too competent to be treasure hoarders.”

“Must be Abyss if they got the drop on you,” Lumine considered, sitting back up and turning to Aether.

The three sat in silence while Dain finished his lunch, and just as he set the plate back on the side table, a loud crash came from beyond the door. Dain jumped, reaching on habit for his sword— only to spot it across the room��� while the twins just stifled laughter. Faint yelling could be heard before a loud thud sounded as something hit the door.

“Grogu, no!”A stern voice called before the door creaked open and a floating metal cradle drifted in and loud stomping rushed up the stairs.

The inhabitant of the cradle, a weird green creature with beady black eyes, cooed and waved at Dain before drifting up between the twins. A man in a metal suit appeared in the doorway, visor locking on the cradle before he hung his head and sighed.

Aether smiled, scratching the creature's head while Lumine stole a blue cookie from its bassinet.

“Hey buddy,” Lumine cooed, splitting the cookie and handing half to Grogu. “You causing problems for your dad?”

“I’m not his dad,” the metal man said, cautiously stepping into the room while keeping an eye on Dain. The creature in the bassinet cooed sadly, turning to look at him.

Ignoring him, Lumine moved on to introduce them.

“Dain, this is Din, he helped us get you back here.”

“And he had this stuff called bacta spray, pretty sure that’s the only reason you didn’t bleed out.”

“And Din, this is Dain, he’s a friend of ours.”

The two shared a tense stare before nodding stiffly in acknowledgement. Even through the visor Dain could feel the scrutinizing look Din had fixed him with.

“Well, we should let you rest. I’ll bring your shirt up once I’ve stitched it up,” Lumine said, tugging Aether’s arm.

“We should be going too,” Din said, turning Grogu’s bassinet and pushing it towards the door. “We have to get that case back to our friend, can you show me how to use those blue crystals to get to the border?”

“I’ll just take you, I want to check in with the Millelith looking for Paimon anyways.” Aether turned to Dain and smiled. “Rest up, and don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

---

Mikey stared at the cafe window, looking over the displays of sweet treats and their prices; considering if Draken would let him get anything. Just as he decided that a parfait wouldn’t hurt, it wasn’t even that expensive, he felt a strong hand grab the top of his head and turn him away. He let out an indignant whine as he was manhandled forward and away from the sweet heaven.

“Ken-chin, I just want a parfait!”

“No, you can have something after lunch, now we have to find the others.”

Once they’d gotten a good distance away from the cafe, Draken let go of his friend's head and let him fall back slightly.

“-But Kyouka-chan got crepes!”

The two boys stopped and turned around to see a man in a brown cap and cape pouting and pointing at the display they’d just left behind. He was complaining to an older man in a black haori and green yukata. 

They could barely hear his response of, “You have had plenty of sweets, no more until you eat something proper.”

A soft snicker left Mikey, and Draken gave him a side eye in indignation.

“That’s what you sound like,” Draken quipped, earning a glare.

“I do not.”

“You do.”

Slowly their voices grew louder as their bickering grew more intense, a few passerby rushing past in fear that a fight may break out, while the two men infront of the cafe turned around.

Ranpo tilted his head, eyes opening slightly as he took in the sight, and Fukuzawa sighed and shook his head.

“Children,” he muttered. “Ran-” He turned to the young detective and froze, realizing the young man was no longer at his side.

“Hey!” Ranpo called, waving wildly and catching the attention of the bickering boys. “Do you know any restaurants around here with good desserts?”

“Ranpo,” Fukuzawa sighed, trailing after him.

Mikey and Draken stopped, Draken winding up his fist to deck Mikey while the shorter boy wrestled his other arm, and turned towards the voice.

The detective smiled at them, hands laced behind him, and waited for an answer as they slowly realized he was talking to them.

“No idea,” Mikey shrugged, letting go of Draken’s arm as he dropped his other hand back to his side, “we’re just visiting Yokohama with some friends.”

“Aw man,” Ranpo pouted, Fukuzawa coming up behind him, he turned around, “if I eat lunch can we come back to the cafe?”

Fukuzawa nodded and the detective’s pout quickly morphed back into a grin.

“Now, if we want to eat and come back before we leave we have to get a move on.”

“Fine,” he turned back to the blonds, “well, thanks. Enjoy Yokohama.”

Ranpo gave them a half wave-half mock salute and started walking backwards before skipping off with Fukuzawa close on his heels.

“What a weird guy,” Mikey and Draken mumbled before bursting out into quiet laughter.

“Mikey! Draken!”

The two turned around and waved at their approaching friends.

“Takemichy, Chifuyu, any luck finding a boat?”

“We couldn’t find one to Liyue,” Chifuyu started, once they got closer, “but we found somewhere a bit closer-”

“So, no boat?” Draken asked, looking at Takemichi, cutting Chifuyu off.

“No boat,” Takemichi sighed.

“But if we go to Ritou we can spend another da-”

“We got a boat,” a gentle voice called, and all four boys turned towards the pier.

Emma and Hina joined up with them, arms linked loosely as they ascended the stairs from the beach; an ice cream in their opposite hands.

“You did? Great!”

“How?”

The girls exchanged a look and shrugged before Emma said, “We made a new friend and his owner is about to head to Liyue on business.”

“His what?” Chifuyu asked.

A soft chittering startled the boys, and a racoon popped up over Hina’s head. Its tail swung over her shoulder and it chittered again, making the girls laugh.

“This is Karl, we saved him from a dog,” Emma said, unlinking her arm from Hina’s and scratching the rodent’s head.

Karl climbed out of Hina’s hood and jumped across from her shoulder to Takemichi’s, making the boy freeze up as he continued across to rest in Chifuyu’s hood. Chifuyu turned his head once Karl had settled, trying to catch a glimpse of the sleeping animal, and got the rodent’s tail in his face. The other five laughed as he sputtered, trying to get the fur out of his mouth.

“Come on, Poe said we had to leave soon.”

“Right, then we should get going, it’s gonna be a long trip.”

[kidsomeday]

Today's reason for writing: if I don't I'll spend all my time screaming into the void about how much I hate the US healthcare system. Anyway! Works to request for this week:

TMA Confession Fic Chpt 3

You're Nobody Til Somebody Wants You Dead

Scar Tissue (That I Wish You Saw)

Soft Vashwood fic

Vashwood Week Day 6 Chpt 1

Note: Scar Tissue and You're Nobody Til Somebody Wants You Dead are either in the middle of or approaching a sex scene. Scar Tissue is an ABO fic in case you are or are not into that. You're Nobody is a trans sex scene, again just as a heads up. Snippet from Vashwood Week Day 6, again. As always. It haunts me. There was a plot at some point and it got away from me. I keep writing in hopes of finding it again. (Someone please send help.)

-

Vash kept up a bright, fake smile up until the point they were both out of the room. Then he slumped over, leaning against the wall in the dramatic flail of long limbs and heavy sighs. “I am sorry about that,” he said. “I sometimes forget that my brother can be the worst. At least it wasn’t personal?” Vash tried to look somewhat upbeat on the final statement. Wolfwood decided to ignore him in favor of lighting up a cigarette, the fact that they were still well within the castle be damned. “I’ll try not to be offended,” he finally drawled out, the sarcasm too heavy to be missed. Vash snorted. “Fair. It’s just,” Vash waved his hands around in an attempt to communicate before dropping them back to his sides. “It’s just Nai.” Wolfwood shrugged. What was there to say? That Vash had no idea how bad Nai truly was? That he stole unwanted children and turned them into monsters in the dark places no one ever saw? That he was silently building up a fanatical cult dedicated to his service? It seemed a bit much for their first day together. Best to lean into that information slowly if he was going to have any control over the outcome. 

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Requested/Friend event mentions under the cut! If you'd like to be pinged next week, let me know!

@not-orpheus @preetsramblings

Friends @fiore-della-valle @redbirdblogs @greenbergsays @idkfandomwhatever @luckyspike @obaewankenope @mad-madam-m @anonymousdandelion @geometricfractal @prettybirdy979 @eriquin | Requests @aparticularbandit @madnessfromthemountains @makeroftherunes @1attheedge @whimsicalmeerkat @kidsomeday @lizhly-writes @mauvelilywilliams @skyderman @adhdavinci

[blackberry-gingham]

Catch | Otto Octavius x Fem! Reader

<... Previously | Chpt 6 | Up next...>

It would seem... An accident has occurred.

Tag list: @smokeywhalee @stupid-stinky @busybeingtrash @momos-peaches @pinkieperil @amongpresidents and @tolovaj (tag list open to additions, or follow here on ao3!)

Tags: Canon divergence, slow burn

tw: brief, non graphic mentions of blood and violence

---

The doctor's alarm clock blares on the nightstand. He slowly blinks awake, reaching over to turn it off with a heavy hand. It's 7 am alright, time to get ready for work soon.

Otto sighs and drops his head back down to the pillow. It's not until his jaw bumps against your forehead that he finally snaps awake. You give a faint rustle and drag yourself out from under your man as best you can.

With your upper body free at last, the doctor leans down to snuggle you, holding you securely in his strong arms as though you didn't just attempt to escape. The breath of air you were able to gasp for in your brief moment of freedom is promptly squeezed out of you again.

"Good morning...", he mutters, nuzzling his nose into your cheek.

You groan and pat his shoulder until you've had enough, "Otto, please... You always do this..."

Like a kicked puppy, he gives you a guilty look and slides over. You'll never know how he gets those eyes so big...

"Sorry... but, it's not like I'm doing it on purpose, you know"

You flick your hand, gesturing for him to roll onto his back. He obeys your command happily and waits with open arms as you crawl over to lay against his chest, "I know, I know...", you yawn, then tap his nose with the tip of your finger, "Can't blame you for eating your vegetables, growing up"

The doctor chuckles, a tad embarrassed, "Yes... That's exactly what I was thinking"

You huff a laugh, and relax on the doctor's warm body. With one hand, he holds yours as it lays on his pec and rubs your back with his other. In return, you caress your thumb back and forth over his chest muscles, warming up a little path.

After just over a month of seeing each other, mornings such as this have become a more and more common scene. You're a far cry from moving in together, but the doctor likes to joke that with all of your things that you've left in his apartment... You might as well.

Regardless, you aren't fooled...

It's hard to miss the twinge of disappointment on his face any time you try to clean out your things. Even something as small as old clothes that you need to take home to wash...

Clothes, blankets, bits of makeup... He always gets a little... Sentimental?

Defensive, perhaps?

"Where are you going with that?", he'll ask. As soon as you explain, even if it's just to clean up your own mess, he seemingly always has some excuse for you to leave it.

"Oh, it's alright! I don't mind it"

Or, "Why don't you leave that for now... We can clean later!"

It rarely works on you, but nothing seems to deter him from consistently trying.

He knows he shouldn't get so... Like that. But, if he's being honest, he can't help but feel a little... nervous.

He's been alone all his life, you know, and now that he's finally got someone to share said life with... He has to watch you pull back here and there. Little by little... The more you bring over, the more he feels you're growing comfortable with him. So, to see you take things back...

For some reason, he just can't handle it well.

You don't know this, and honestly, he doesn't think you ever can, but... sometimes, to fight this bizarre, unwarranted feeling of you leaving... He keeps a small collection of trifles you've left behind.

Nothing you'd miss, mind you, but... They mean everything to him.

Just some easily lost items, like a bobby pin or a hair tie. He has a tube of your chapstick, 23¢ that you left on the kitchen counter, and, his favorite of all, an old t-shirt that you seem to have entirely forgotten about.

It's never been washed since it came into his possession... On nights when you can't be together, he will sometimes fit it over the extra pillow and snuggle it to sleep.

As he said, you can never find out. He'd be mortified for you to learn about such... Degenerate behavior.

And yet... All he wishes is for you to stay. For good, this time. Sometime... Even the idea of you leaving him or pulling away upsets him. He's built too many fond memories already, gotten far too attached, too accustomed to your company.

All those nights... Laying in bed, holding you close to protect from the cold. Sitting in the living room, reclined on the couch and watching something or other that you enjoy. He's made you breakfast and dinner more times then he can remember, and once in a while you'll surprise him with a batch of cookies or the like in thanks.

Compared to you, he's an awful cook, but... He appreciates that you tell him his food is good anyway. You're an awful liar for it. Just like when you tell him he's handsome, or funny... Terrible lies, all of it. And yet, he wishes you would never stop.

There are so many things he'd do for you... To earn your love. To prove his devotion. Hell, if the few times he's let you put your creams and oils on his face before bed doesn't prove it, he doesn't know what would.

He doesn't see the appeal in preserving looks where he has none, but... Do not underestimate what he'd do to make you happy.

Besides, who can turn down a free facial massage?

In fact, one of his fondest memories connects back to such a night... You were teasing him for his perpetually shaggy hair. Perhaps he could use a haircut, or at least a little styling help. No sooner did he float the idea then did you whip out your hairbrush, a shining grin etched into your face.

You gave your lap a quick pat, inviting him to lean against you.

"I... Don't know", the doctor glances up at his hair self consciously. It is rather ragged... He suddenly feels quite embarrassed for you to take a close look at it.

"Oh come on, just a little brush... Please?"

The doctor sighs... You are so incredibly impossible to turn down, "Fine, but... go easy, alright? I don't have much left", he pats his hair down sentimentally while you laugh before crawling across the bed and turning around. The both of you lean back until his shoulders lay against your torso, and your back is propped up on the headboard.

It's a bit of a stretch, trying to fit the doctor's barrel chest between your thighs, but... you make it work.

Admittedly, the first few strokes are met with an awful resistance. If you'd known how curly his hair was at the ends, you'd have had him wet it first. But soon, the resistance is gone, leaving nothing but smooth, glossy waves.

Through the light of the nearby lamp, you work your magic, creating long, passes of your brush through the doctor's hair. Now that the painful tearing over... The doctor is actually beginning to enjoy this.

While one hand brushes, the other rubs gentle circles against his skull as you hold it steady. Otto's eyes roll up into his head as he suppresses a moan.

Skriiiiiiitch

Skriiiiiiitch

Skriiiiiiiiiiitch

It's almost enough to fall asleep to.

Suddenly, you make a little hum, almost inquisitively. The doctor opens one eye and turns to look at you, "Something wrong?"

"No, no... I just... I didn't know you were ginger", you laugh, "It looks brown from a distance, but look"

Pulling one of his curls straight out so he can see, you give it a little twist and turn in the bright lamp light. Sure enough, a glow of rusty auburn shines through.

The doctor is quick to flatten the strand back down into his mass of hair, almost as though if he moves quick enough, you'll forget you ever saw that, "And what's so funny about that?", he asks defensively.

"Well don't get upset... I never said it was funny, just that I didn't notice before", you give his hair a little tussle, then go back to brushing, "I think it looks handsome on you"

The doctor's body goes hot, and you can already tell you've made him blush. Hesitantly, as though turning around to look at something he's not supposed to see... Otto looks up at you, gauging your reaction.

Sure enough, there's no trace of teasing or insincerity.

"Y-you think so?", he perks up a little, a small smile playing at his lips as though he just might dare to believe you...

"Of course", with an open palm, you brush back his bangs to expose his broad forehead before bending down to give it a kiss.

He smiles like a child that's been commended on good behavior... The excitement shines through his very eyes as he shimmies a little closer to you, returning to a neutral position while you go back to brushing.

Such a small thing... But those are the ones that mean the most to him. He's never been described as handsome in any way shape or form before... And to have his first time come from you means the absolute world to him.

He's always been a little insecure over his hair. While he never minded the curls as much, the ginger was far brighter when he was younger. As the red started to fade and teasing stopped, he felt a more then little relief from it, but... That was before he now learned that you like it.

It's silly, but... A part of him almost wishes it would come back.

Heh, it was red as carrots back in his college years...

Perhaps he'll have to show you a picture sometime.

To be quite honest... The doctor can't really recall a single bad memory with you. Things were so good...

So why did he have to ruin it all?

The day finally came. After all the testing... All the press... All the noise and clamor to see this great, wonderful invention everyone's been told so much about...

And it went to shit faster then he could possibly imagine.

He'll never forget the look on your face that day. You were so excited, absolutely buzzing to see him accomplish this... His life long dream.

Who would've thought his own pride would be his downfall.

He miscalculated... What more can he say? The experiment got out of control, and he was too blind and selfish to see it. He supposes now that his first clue should've been when Spiderman showed up to stop him, but...

Well, it's too late for speculation now.

You were right there when it all happened. You've... Never seen him like this. So arrogant. So aggressive. So violent.

It only took a few moments for all the investors and assistants to run out of the lab. Harry himself bailed out too. You should've run. You should've followed the crowd out of there. But... something was holding you back.

Some invisible, intangible sense of emotion...

Pain. Betrayal. Yes... That.

The pain of seeing the man you love, who you thought you knew... Change before your very eyes, acting in ways you've never seen before. Never even imagined that he had in him. Spiderman may not hold the best light in the public eye, but... He's trying to do what's right.

And the way your Otto just... Slammed him aside...

The way he endangered the entire room in his refusal to stop the experiment...

Endangered you, even.

The whole place fell to pieces. Tearing apart bit by bit as the magnetic field grew out of control. You yourself barely escaped the rain of glass hurtling towards you.

It got your arm, but... You were lucky. If it wasn't for your screams, you don't know that the doctor would've ever even noticed you were still there. It's like... He was a different person, and for a moment there, that quick moment when he realized your were hurt, nearly killed even, he was back to the man you knew.

After that...

God, you wish you could just forget.

A massive arc of electricity escapes the field of the machine, lashing out for the nearest conductor. The doctor's mechanical arms are selected.

The screams of agony are almost drowned out entirely by the whining buzz of electricity. Otto's body goes morbidly stiff, paralyzed by the voltage coursing through him. And... The smell. Dear God, the smell...

Have you ever filed your nails and rubbed a little too close, burning your skin?

Have you ever bent over to blow out a candle, and even just a strand of your hair fell from your head into the burning wax?

Have you ever smelt burned tires or garbage, somewhere on the highway after a wreck, or where there was almost one?

Imagine all those smells at once. Those, terrible, rancid, deathly smells...

You're losing blood so fast... In so much pain... Did... Did the glass cut you somewhere else?

The world seems to dim as you lay there helplessly. Helpless, as your dear Otto fries to a crisp before your very eyes. Then suddenly... It stops. Spiderman pulls the plug and, with a small implosion of the mini sun... All goes quiet and still.

Including the doctor.

With a heavy thud, his body falls flat on the ground. He's entirely limp, save for the little twitches here and there as the last of the electricity works it's way out of his body.

"O-Otto...?", your own voice feels hoarse... Far away, as you call out to him. Nothing. Not even a spark of movement from his tentacles.

Tears stream down your face.

Whether you cry from your own pain or for him, you're not sure. Weak and tired, you crawl through the shards of glass, clawing your way closer and closer to the doctor.

You call his name again, only to be met with silence once more, his still, looming body laying just out of reach... but you refuse to give up. Tiny cuts appear on your palms as you drag yourself through the glass. Your legs hurt, your hands bleed, your head and ears pound.

But... Even after what he's done... you can't give up on your Otto.

The world grows darker, an eerie blackness creeping into the edge of your vision, but you're almost... There.

With one final exertion, your hand finds it's way to the doctor's. You take a ragged breath and collapse at last. His hand is so warm... As though nothing is wrong at all.

Your breathing becomes shallow, your body feels cold. And then... It all goes black.

[bellebridgerton]

Favor: Chpt 6 (Chubby!Bucky x Y/n)

✨Last Chapter✨

Taglist: @silentkiller2374 @jeeperky

(Y/n)'s POV

Natasha plays with my hair, "I liked that Steve guy that I met at Sarah's party, he's your friend, right?

I look up at her, "Yeah, he's one of my closest friends, along with you and Bucky. You want me to set you up?"

She looks around my apartment, "No, just curious, he seems nice."

Smirking, I sit up, "He is very nice, always treats ladies with respect."

Natasha's cheeks turn a light pink, "I can tell. Anyway, let's not talk about Steve. It's time to talk about Bucky, you need to make a move! The both of you are so cute, I saw the way you look at him, and the way he looks at you, oh god, it's nearly sickening."

It's my turn to blush, "He doesn't love me like I love him, I don't want to lose him."

Nat giggles, "If I knew how you felt about him before, I would have worked my magic on you two."

I smile at her, "Nat, love you, but there was no magic on those dates. If anything, I should set you up with Steve, I saw how you blushed when he would laugh at your jokes."

She argues, "Everyone laughed!"

I nod, "But Steve is new to you, and you have never blushed when joking! Plus he winked at you and you looked so red I thought you were holding your breath!"

Natasha shakes her head, laughing, "No! This isn't about me, stop deflecting (Y/n/n)! You need to tell Bucky how you feel."

Sighing, I shake my head, "I can't, I want to, I would love to shout it from the rooftops, but what if he doesn't feel the same?"

Bucky's POV

I stand in front of my mirror, internally criticizing myself.

Steve leans in the doorway, "Buck, you're fine, stop."

I turn to look at Steve, "I'm fat, Steve, how am I supposed to be good enough for her when I'm fat? And my hair? I haven't cut it since Quarantine started. I look like a mess."

Steve sighs, "You've always been bigger, and it's never been a problem for (Y/n). She plays with your hair all the time, even more so since its gotten longer. I get that you're nervous, but it's going to be okay."

I shake my head, "Please Steve, can you help me workout?"

He smiles softly, "Yeah, Buck, we can do that, we'll start Monday morning."

I nod and look at myself in the mirror again.

Steve crosses his arms over his chest, "Stop it Bucky, or I'll take the mirror away."

(Y/n)'s POV

"Could we have a sleepover?," I ask Steve.

He laughs, "I love you (Y/n/n), but not like that."

I scrunch up my nose, "No! Steve! Like a real sleepover, you, me, Bucky, and Natasha!"

I hear his breath catch in his throat, "Natasha will be here?"

"Yes, Natasha will be there, she will round out our group nicely," I play with my nails as I talk to him.

Steve chuckles, "Then yes, let's have a sleepover, the four of us."

I grin, "Yes! Can we have it at your place?"

He smiles, "Sure, we can do that."

I giggle, happy that Steve agreed to it, "Thank you! Love you Stevie!"

Steve laughs, "Love you too, (Y/n/n)."

Bucky's POV

I hear Steve tell (Y/n) that he loves her, I'm not worried because I know he'd never see her romantically. I walk over to him, "What's up?"

Steve smiles like he's got something up his sleeve, "We're having a sleepover; me, you, (Y/n), and Natasha."

I roll my eyes, "Steve, you'd better not leave (Y/n) and I alone while you get your dick wet."

He laughs, "I'm not a fuckboy, and of course I'd leave you two alone. You need to make a move, jerk."

I can't help but smile, "You're such a punk. You'd better hope she likes me, otherwise I'm coming for your ass."

He gets wide eyes and puts his hand on his chest, "I didn't know you swung that way, I support you, but I'm not personally into guys."

We both laugh and I shove his shoulder, "You know what I mean."

Steve chuckles and nods, "Don't worry about it, everything will be fine."

-

After a long week, it's finally Friday night, and Natasha and (Y/n) haven't arrived yet.

There's a knock at the door and Steve gets it while I pull the pizzas out of the oven.

Steve hugs (Y/n), "Hey squirt!"

(Y/n) laughs and there's chatter that I can't decipher from the kitchen.

As I'm slicing the pizzas, I feel arms around my torso from behind. Glancing down, I recognize the hands, "Hey doll."

(Y/n) giggles softly, "Hey Sarge, I missed you."

We've both been busy this past week, but I've missed her so much.

Gently removing her hands from my chest, I turn around and hug her around her waist, "I missed you too, so much."

She hugs back, one hand on my shoulder blade, the other sliding underneath my hair and resting on the back of my neck. I immediately melt into her touch, gently rubbing her back. (Y/n) gently plays with my hair, softly humming an indistinguishable song.

Steve's POV

After greeting (Y/n) and Natasha, I watch (Y/n) go to Bucky. Natasha and I can't help but spy on them.

Nat whispers, "How are they not a couple already?"

I chuckle, "They pretty much are, they just won't admit it to themselves. They've been like this since we were like 13."

Natasha looks at me like I'm crazy, "Oh my god!"

I laugh, "My mission for tonight is to get them to admit their feelings. They can't play this game for the rest of their lives."

Nat smirks, "Count me in, they're so cute."

I walk into the kitchen with Natasha, "The pizza smells great, Buck."

He opens his eyes, not pulling away from (Y/n), "Thanks."

(Y/n)'s POV

I look up at Bucky, "You made them, didn't you?"

He blushes a bit, "How'd you know?"

I smile, "Because I know you, Buck."

He kisses my head, "You're sweet, doll." I look up at him and smile, he grins, "We can eat in a few minutes, don't want you to burn your pretty mouth."

Bucky's comment didn't go unnoticed by me, but I could bring myself to retort at him. I just smile and kiss his cheek, "Do you guys have any soda?"

He nods and opens the fridge, "We have Pepsi, Coke, cream, orange, strawberry."

I grin, bouncing on my heels, "Cream please!"

Bucky chuckles, grabbing a cream soda, silicone ice cubes, and a cup. He pours my drink for me, I notice that he remembers that I don't like real ice in my drinks, it always makes it watery.

As he hands me my drink, I look up at him, "Thank you, handsome."

He smirks softly and nods, "You're welcome, doll." He grabs four plates, putting two slices on a plate.

I sip my soda, as soon as I lower my cup, Bucky's offering me the plate of pizza. I smile, "Awe, I'm really getting the royal treatment tonight. Thank you." I graciously take my plate and go to the living room.

Natasha looks at me like I did something wrong, "Girl! You need to stop playing games and tell him how you feel!"

I playfully roll my eyes, "He's just being sweet, it's nothing new."

Nat raises an eyebrow, "Because he's completely smitten with you, 'doll'."

I smile, not wanting to talk about it, "He's always called me 'doll'."

Natasha smiles, "Mhm, sure."

Several snacks and movies later, I look up from my spot, with my head resting on the arm of the couch and my legs over Bucky's lap.

Steve gently picks up a sleeping Natasha bridal style, "I'm going to take her to the guest room, then I'm going to bed, you two have fun."

I smile softly, "Night Stevie."

Steve smiles, "Night (Y/n/n)."

Bucky turns off the TV, "It's getting late, we should go to bed." I nod and walk to his room without thinking about it. Bucky follows, he closes his bedroom door behind him.

I pick up my overnight bag and I pull out Bucky's sweatshirt that I borrowed.

He smiles, "Am I ever going to get my sweatshirt back?"

I look up at him and playfully throw it at him, "There." I smile, "Turn around, I'm going to change."

Bucky turns around so I can have a little privacy, "You're perfect, the way you are, doll."

As I climb into his bed, wearing only a sports bra and pajama shorts, I feel Bucky also making his way into the bed.

He lays beside me, not making any effort to cuddle me like he normally does.

Bucky's POV

Laying beside (Y/n) in my bed is making me much more nervous than it usually does, I'm not sure why.

She looks at me, "You okay Bucky? I don't bite."

I could tell her feelings were probably a little hurt, so I pull her close to me, feeling her cuddle into me, "I know, doll."

She looks up at me, I can see the moonlight reflected in her eyes.

In this moment, I know I would hate myself if I didn't take the chance. Softly I move my hand from my chest to her arm, making my way to her shoulder. (Y/n)'s hand that she had laid on my chest grips my shirt a little.

(Y/n)'s POV

I gently grab Bucky's t-shirt in my fist, using it as leverage to move even closer to him, if that's possible. His hand moves up my back, I feel his fingers find my neck through my hair, while his other hand rubs my lower back. I can see his smile in the dim bedroom, I respond with a smile and tuck his hair behind his ear. His eyes glance between my lips and my eyes, I must be dreaming.

Mustering all my courage, I lean in and initiate a kiss, his lips feel like pillows, absolutely perfect.

Bucky returns the kiss with enthusiasm, his hand on the back of my head pulling me closer, fingers tangled in my hair. He groans softly against my lips, causing me to blush and deepen the kiss.

Unfortunately, the need for oxygen makes us seperate our lips. Bucky looks blissful, his eyes sparkling in the light spilling through the window. He smiles softly, "That was amazing, doll."

His words cause me to blush and hide my face in my pillow. Bucky chuckles, kissing my hair, "Don't hide, I want to see your beautiful face."

I look at him with one eye, not removing my face from my pillow. He laughs and gently moves my hair from in front of my face, "Doll, can I kiss you again?"

I nod, moving onto my back, pulling him closer. He kisses me deeply, keeping his body off of mine. While kissing back, I tug on his shirt, wanting him close. He chuckles into the kiss and pulls me on top of him.

Straddling his hips, my lips trail down his jaw, neck, and over his shirt. My hands find the hem of his shirt, but before I can lift it, Bucky holds my hands.

The look on his face changed slightly, but I noticed, "Hey, we don't have to do anything if you don't want to." I don't want him to feel pressured.

He smiles, "(Y/n), I want to, so much, but I want to keep my shirt on."

I raise an eyebrow at him, "Why?"

He looks anywhere but me, "I'm fat, it's not pretty under there."

Gently, I slide one hand under his shirt and kiss his neck, "I want to see all of you baby, no shirt on, between my thighs." His breath hitches, I continue, "You'll see all of me, it's only fair."

He groans, "But you're sexy, I'm ugly."

I gently pull back from his neck and cup his cheek in my hand, "I don't want to hear the man I love talk about himself like that." I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, hoping I didn't just ruin it.

Bucky grins and sits up with me in his lap, he grabs my wrist and kisses my palm, "Don't play with me doll, I won't be able to take it."

I shake my head, "I love you Bucky, I need you."

He whips his shirt off and kisses my neck, mumbling, "I love you too doll."

I giggle and squeak as he lays me down on the bed, making quick work of his shirt, his hands quickly removing my sports bra. He pauses for a second, "I'm dreaming, I swear I am." He removes my shorts, throwing them to the floor. Kissing down my body, he also discards his pajama pants.

Maintaining eye contact, Bucky places my legs on his shoulders. Blushing and suddenly feeling shy, I look away and hear him chuckle. He kisses up my inner thighs, his hands gripping my hips.

I watch him, nervous and excited. Bucky licks my folds, his breath grazing my clit, causing me to moan.

Bucky's POV

Her moans encourage me to go further, gliding a finger inside of her, my mouth focused on her clit. Fingers grip my hair, tugging on it, pulling an involuntary groan from my throat.

I look up from my position to see (Y/n) lying before me, looking like a goddess; hair slightly messy, lips parted, eyes glazed over with pleasure.

Going back to focusing on my task at hand, I slide another finger in, kissing and sucking on her pussy.

(Y/n)'s POV

I tighten my grip on Bucky's hair, a familiar knot feeling in my stomach, "Bucky! I'm gonna-!"

He cleans me up with his tongue, then kisses my thigh, "Delicious, doll." I could tell that he had quite the situation in his boxers.

Sitting up, I cup his cheeks in my hands and kiss him, "Lie down."

Bucky kisses back, lying on his back without any protest. Straddling his hips, I capture his lips with mine again, I don't think I'll ever get tired of kissing him. He rubs my hips, while I grind on him, causing him to smack my ass playfully. Trailing my lips down his body, I stop right above his boxers, then pull them off of him. He blushes, "We don't have to, ya know..."

I smile, then straddle his thighs, "Bucky, I've wanted you to rail me for years."

His eyes grow wide for a second, "Then who am I to deny you your wish?" He grabs my hips and flips us, making me laugh softly.

Bucky opens the drawer of his bedside table, I grab his hand, "I'm on the pill, Sarge."

He grins and wraps my legs around his hips, "Ready baby?" I nod and he slowly slides in, moans escaping his mouth. He thrusts slow and deep, his arms supporting his weight. Through my moaning and my body responding to his, I can't help but want him closer. I lean up and kiss him, pulling him closer. While kissing, Bucky mumbles, "Don't want to crush you, doll."

I gently pull him closer, kissing his jaw, "I want to feel you on me."

He relaxes a little, holding me closer, thrusting faster and harder. He rubs my clit with his thumb, "Cum for me again doll." I nod and grab his bicep, on the edge.

He rubs faster, causing me to peak. Not caring if Steve or Natasha might hear, I'm almost screaming for Bucky. His thrusts stutter and he gets slower, "Fuck baby, that was amazing!" He kisses my shoulder, resting partially on me.

After catching my breath, I giggle and play with his hair, kissing his temple.

✨Next Chapter✨

[ramble-writes]

Forget-Me-Not: The Face of Death

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

So here’s chpt 6! Desperately do I try to make sure to make this a slow burn so things don’t seemed forced and rushed. But I think I’m doing ok so far, as the need to not rush things is why I started to rewrite this. So yeah! Also please make sure to like and reblog this story so it can get around ;w;

-

The performance, to say the least, was the most eccentric thing the group had ever seen except for Kai, who had joined in with the screaming crowd since she's seen flexible twinky men, but never a flexible build man who could move and bend the way the owner did. And in heels, no less. With the dance over and the men leaving the stage, a server came around to the five and offered drinks on a tray. Wash blinked at the sight, then looked at the server with a raised brow.

"Wouldn't we have to pay for these?"

The server shook their head. "No. It's on the house from the owner himself."

"Don't mind me!" Kai gladly took one and had a taste, letting out a satisfied hum. Tucker took one when she did, then followed in suit. The server told them the owner also had a reserved private booth ready for them and that he would join them shortly. Eyebrows were being raised at that, but they went to the booth the server pointed out to them.

As the others sat down, Kai took off to the bar to get seconds, or something more robust. While she was gone, Wash set down the untouched glass on the table and clasped his hands together.

"Ok. I'm not the only one thinking how weird it is that the owner got us a table, right? Like how did we even get here?"

"I mean. He was probably alerted when the bouncer saw us," Tucker pointed out. Wash nodded. That much was true upon being recognized as the Reds and Blues; they were let in whether they were on the list or not.

"Well, whoever this owner is, he sure knows how to treat people!" Kai plopped down with her new drink in hand before taking a sip of it. She relaxed with a sigh and looked out to the crowd to see if she could spot the man until the crowd parted to let in said man.

Those dark curls were still in a bun with some gold whisps flying free from their confinement. He too, was dressed in a corset vest, a deep blue and black with gold floral patterns on the side over a black shirt. A grin spread across his face as he slowed from the small jog and stood at the table the booth centers around.

"¡Bienvenidos! It's so nice to finally meet the wonderful saviors of Chorus!"

Kai tried her best not to choke on her drink. Nonchalantly, she practically shoved Tucker over thus squishing him between her and Carolina to make room for the man. The owner chuckled, then lifted his hand up to wave it a bit before he sat down. As he got settled in, a server came over with a drink and handed it to him. He thanked the server, then crossed his legs.

"So! To what do I owe the pleasure to have you lot in my club? And am I right to assume I'm speaking to the Reds and Blues?"

It was Tucker that spoke up.

"Yup."

The man nodded, then looked at Kai with his head tilted. "You're Kaikaina Grif, yes? The woman known for her infamous raves within ye old Bloodgulch?"

Was she flattered at being recognized? Yes. She giggled and leaned back into her spot and crossed her own legs.

"Yup! And I bet you can tell who the rest of these bastards are."

"Mhm. Lavernius Tucker, who still has yet to pay off all that child support. Coulda used protection, friend. So that leaves the other woman here being Lady Carolina with the ever-calm Washington. I can call you Wash, right? Unless it's strictly friends only."

Wash perked up at hearing his name, confused for a second before letting out a silent 'oh' and nodding. "Wash is fine."

The man let out a hum to that, then turned his golden gaze to Sam, who tensed up at realizing he was now being stared at by everyone. Kai took a hint at the silence and gently tapped the owner's knee.

"That's Sam. He's my bodyguard. He's uh... What did you say you were again?"

"An ex-marine from the Great War," he sighed out. That perked the other's interest.

"Really? I was also a veteran of the war. What's your last name?"

"Ortez."

There was a silence that followed, save of course for the music that was playing and the chatter of patrons. To someone unfamiliar when it comes to reading body language, his silence could be taken as him trying to remember where he's heard the name. But internally, it was like sirens going off in the back of his head. He found his thoughts interrupted when the red-head spoke.

"Now that you know who we are, it's fair if we know yours. Since, you know, you're the owner of this place."

"Ah! My apologies. It slipped my mind there for a moment. My name is Ermando Romero. I was a part of a recon team way back when."

Sam made a sound in his throat. Even though the last name is common,  it still brought up some memories. His own thoughts wandered as the others began chatting and faded into the background. He would've gotten lost had it not been for a particular question that made for Wash to nudge him.

"You good?"

"Mm. I'm fine." Sam then notices everyone is looking at him again.

"What."

"Ermando was asking what brought us here. And Tucker opened his mouth and said you have that answer."

Speaking of, Tucker shrunk in his spot as if trying to hide between Kai and Carolina. He just quietly took a sip of his drink to ignore the burning holes he swears Sam is boring into his head. It didn't help everyone was now looking at him instead of the bigger man. The void was then filled when Wash piped up.

"Oh yeah! We're here looking for a rouge mercenary that popped up on the radar. From what we were told, he was a part of the Chorus War. Goes by the name Anubis."

Ermando raised a brow. "Oh?"

"Mhm. He had these jet packs too. Scared Palomo out on the battlefield since he thought it was a demon of sorts."

"Waaaash," Carolina started.

"Hm? Did I say something?"

Carolina gently cleared her throat and let her eyebrows rise and fall. It took a moment for Wash to get what she was implying, but once it hit, he muttered an apology and lowered his head a bit. He swore he was getting better at making sure he didn't lapse like that, but it happened. Carolina gently placed a hand on his forearm to reassure him that it was out of his control and it was nothing to feel guilty over.

Ermando silently questioned on what just happened, but he then remembered the news he saw about the injury the ex-Freelancer sustained. With a slight shake of his head, he brought the topic back.

"As for this Anubis character, I can't say I heard of him. And I've heard lots of things from my travels. What did this man look like?"

"He wears the standard black armor as the other mercenaries did, but he had blue accents," Sam clarified. Ermando had to think for a bit. Black and blue armor, could fly due to jetpacks, and the code name is Anubis. None of it seemed to ring any bells for him.

"Nothing sounds familiar. But I'm curious. Why come here to ask such questions?"

"From what we were told, he has a history of killing his targets in clubs. And we got word his focus turned to Chorus."

"And you think he might've had a target here and caused a ruckus? Tch. I have a strict no-weapons policy. Guards are only equipped with tasers or stun batons to take down those that cause trouble. The entrance has a metal detector encase something is missed. Even the back doors and the door to the roof. The last thing I want is for the back hallways to become a classic shoot-out with bodies at every turn."

Carolina blinked at the last part. "I'm sorry. Explain why you said that?"

"Yeah. I admit I zoned out a bit, but you saying that is kinda putting me off along with the excessive amount of security measures," Wash pointed out. "Did something happen?"

Ermando let out a sigh. "Some time ago after the war and I was discharged, I heard about a club shooting. A bit over 50 bodies if I'm correct. The owner went missing and was found dead. Turns out he was the son of a crime boss."

Sam stared before clearing his throat a little. He was the cause of said deaths at that club and the end to the Lazano line. Guess it would make sense to have high security to avoid things repeating themselves. A fair price not to be listed as a killing hot spot.

"But, if you were to ask. I have heard a different club some blocks down got hit. Maybe your mercenary is there?"

"What's the name?"

"It's called Epileptic. As far as I know, it's been hit 4 times in the span of a week and a half."

Sam took in this information. That lines up with what he was told, but there was something that was nagging at him that didn't sit right. He would have to check the information he was given once they were out of here to confirm or ease his suspicions. Ermando then gestured outside the booth, suggesting that for now, they all head out to enjoy the rest of the club with all it has to give since Kai was starting to look restless.

Tucker was all for getting out to the floor to leave the pit of embarrassment from being called out for the child support papers and wanting to get away from Sam after the stare-down. Plus he has yet to see Wash drunk as Carolina mentioned and he was determined to see it with his own eyes. Sam was the last to leave the booth. He glanced over his shoulder to the owner who's hasn't made a move, but he was looking right back at him. The bounty hunter found his cheeks heating up a tad at the way golden eyes scanned his form up and down. He knew what that look was and needed to move away fast. Not right now, not yet...

-

3 out of 5 were drunk. Tucker got the video he wanted of a drunk Wash dancing while he himself was smashed so the video was a bit wobbly, but it was a well-earned sacrifice. At some point, Carolina had to step in to prevent Wash from having a third drink since 2 was enough for his still recovering mind. When she got him off the floor, Sam rounded up the other two and the group made their way out of the club. Sam looked over his shoulder to the bright neon sign that read Resurrection, a sigh leaving him as his thoughts went over the conversation they had with Ermando.

It was a bit of a struggle to get both Kai and Tucker back into the car with how much they were moving, while Wash was like a limp noodle that wanted to fall to the ground. As Sam and Carolina got the three buckled up, the bounty hunter brought up how there is a decent motel next to his apartment complex they could stay the night to sober up in. Sam started the car up once he was in, then looked over when the drunk blond grumbled about something poking his butt. It took a moment for Wash to fish out the object from his back pocket, then he stared at the pocket knife warm in his hand.

"Oooooooh right! I had thiss in my pocket... 'Lina look! It was there the whoooole time!"

Indeed she did look. Her eyes widened before looking at Sam who was staring with a hard gaze.

"Didn't Ermando mention he has security at every door?"

"Yes." Sam turned his head to look back at the club as his grip on the steering wheel tightened. "He lied. The entire place is a death trap to lure targets in."

"So. You're saying he could be Anubis?"

"Possib-"

"Yo... Ermando isss Anubisss."

Carolina shook her head with a slight smile. "No. We're saying he might be, not that-"

"But he is though... He totes is... He was wearing black with blue accents. Think! We had a table. Wouldn't he need that table to get those table monies? But he wasn't worried. He has that mercenary blood moneyyy."

Wash went quiet, only nodding to himself that for sure what he said made sense. Yet it felt like it did through his drunken stupor. Kai mumbled how Ermando is hot and a killer, much like Sam is. So it makes sense and she agreed with Wash.

"Remind me after we interrogate someone, is get Wash drunk because that was the most clever analogy. Chaotic and drunk, but on point," Carolina stated.

"I doubt he needs to be drunk to even see the things we don't." Sam let out a sigh and exited the parking lot. Many things were running through his mind that he would have to return and see about getting inside. Thanks to Wash, Ermando is now a prime suspect.

[firstofficerwiggles]

Chapter 6: Where No Mando Has Gone Before

Link to Chpt. 5 -- For other chapters please visit my Masterlist

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: M/E, 18+ only

Warnings: SMUT, Flirty!Din, Jealous!Reader, swearing, kissing, use of blindfold, groping (in public), oral sex (female receiving), explicit description of unprotected sex (be safe in the real world please), still pretty fluffy though

Word count: ~12.5K (I know, but it’s worth it I promise)

Author’s Note: This takes place on Angel One a matriarchal planet from Star Trek, the Next Generation. While that episode of TNG is honestly not good, I have been intrigued by the idea of that planet and always thought they could have done so much more with it. (Btw, I do suggest you look at the costumes from that episode because they are hilarious.) So anyway, I’m pretending that Angel One is in the Star Wars galaxy. Also, in this I describe the women of this planet as being taller, broader, and generally much larger than the reader. I always try to keep the reader as physically non-descript as possible, so just know that no matter how tall and broad you yourself may be, to these women, you are petite. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

For the third morning in a row, you awake to strong arms wrapped around you and the solid, warm body of Mando, or rather, Din, by your side. You’ve fully recovered from being shot, but Din has still been on high alert for any pain or discomfort that you could be feeling. He pretends to protest each evening that he should let you rest, before you easily convince him to climb into bed with you and cuddle all night long. Honestly, at first you thought he was just putting up with the cuddling to make you happy, but turns out, he seems to truly love it, as he is the one who continues to pull you closer any time you roll away in your sleep.

You’re lazily tracing circles with your fingers over his chest now as you think about him. He’s sleeping in a shirt and boxers, and even though you can’t touch the skin of his chest directly, you can feel his warmth easily through the thin fabric. He’s been so incredibly caring these past few days and he’s hardly let you lift a finger. Even when you’ve worried about him sleeping in his helmet and offered to sleep blindfolded so he could take it off, he’s dismissed the idea in favor of your comfort. Although part of you wonders if he’s still too nervous to consider taking off the helmet in front of you despite the presence of a blindfold or darkness.

You really are feeling so much better this morning, and you figure you’ll take over breakfast today. It would be nice to start getting back to your normal routine. You move to loosen yourself from Din’s hold and slide out of the bed, when you feel him stir and yank you back to his side.

“Where’re you goin’?” he asks you sleepily.

“I was going to make breakfast, and let you sleep a bit more,” you reply softly.

“Mmm, no, stay with me,” he says.

You shift a little so you can look at him more directly and tell him, “I’m so tempted, really, but you know someone else will be awake and hungry very soon.”

“Stay,” he repeats, “Wanna cuddle more.” You give in to him, and snuggle closer; it’s too hard when he’s insistent.

Din’s hands are starting to wander now, slipping just under the hem of your pajama top to caress your lower back. You let out a contented sigh at the feeling of his skin against yours.

“You must be feeling much better, if you want to make breakfast,” he says, sounding more awake, as he continues to trail his hands up your back under your top.

“I am, I feel completely better,” you reply confidently.

“Better enough to do other things?” Din asks with a husky tone to his voice as he brings one of his hands around to caress the upper part of your stomach, just below your breasts.

“I could do other things,” you say in a breathy voice; breakfast is now the last thing on your mind.

Din lets the hand on your stomach explore upward and over your breast, lightly palming you and teasing the sensitive tip. It’s been so long since a man touched you like this that it’s enough to make you moan softly. Din lets out a low rumbly sound in his chest and his hand becomes bolder, kneading you and rolling your hardening nipple between his fingertips. With his other hand, he pulls you in closer to him so that your hips brush up against his, letting you feel his arousal. Experimentally, you rock your hips against his, slightly grinding against him, drawing out another deep growling sound from Din’s throat.

“Been wanting to touch you like this ever since I got in bed with you,” he says.

“Me too,” you tell him as you let your own hands finally run up underneath his shirt and over the hard planes of his stomach and chest.

“You’re so soft- oof!” Din’s compliment is cut off by a sound of surprise and you realize why as soon as you see a little green head pop up over his shoulder. The sneaky kiddo has managed to climb up on the bed and his little claws must have grabbed Din’s arm to hoist himself up. Din immediately yanks his hand out of your top as the child meanwhile is crawling over Din’s chest to get to you. You scooch away from Din to make room for the little guy and also to discreetly put some distance between you two so that you can both calm down.

“Good morning, buddy!” You say a little overly cheerful, trying to come back to your senses. You look up at Din and mouth ‘sorry’. He just shakes his head lightly as he pats the child on the back.

“I think someone is a little jealous that I keep taking all the cuddles,” Din says with a chuckle, “Tell you what, I’ll make breakfast and you two have some snuggle time.”

“Aww, come here, buddy, and give me a hug,” you pull the child into your chest and kiss his wrinkled little brow. He lets out a series of happy coos making you laugh.

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

After breakfast, you get dressed and join Din in the cockpit where he’s putting in coordinates to a new destination. The child is sitting in one of the passenger seats playing with his silver ball. You come over to stand next to Din and look at the star chart he’s using.

“I’ve got an idea for our next move,” Din tells you, “But it will require us to carry out some deception for it to work.”

“Deception, huh? Well, I’m intrigued already,” you reply with a smile.

“I’ve heard from several of my guild contacts that the bounty on the child has increased,” he says concerned, “There’s also a bounty out on me too.”

“Oh, that explains the hunters.” Your voice is more serious now.

“It’s fortunate that no one in the guild will support the job, but although it’s an off-the-books bounty, the price is high enough that there’ll still be hunters after us.” Din explains.

“So what’s your plan and how can I help?” you ask.

“You’re an integral part of it, particularly since no one knows you’re with me,” he tells you, “Have you ever heard of a planet called Angel One?”

“No, never.”

“It’s a place that few people have visited,” he explains, “They have a matriarchal society and you’re only allowed to visit the planet if you’re accompanied by a woman.”

“Ah, I see, so no one will expect you to be there.” It’s a good idea.

“Yes, but there’s more,” Din says, “They’re very particular about whom they let stay on the planet for a visit, and from what I’ve heard they usually only let powerful or influential women visit for more than a day. Any potential visitors need to be fully vetted by one of their Mistresses to be allowed to stay.”

“Hence the deception; I need to pretend to be someone powerful or influential,” you respond.

“Yes, I thought you could pretend to be a princess and I’ll be your bodyguard,” Din proposes.

“A princess?” You reply, a touch startled by the idea.

“You’re as beautiful as a princess,” Din says, his voice flirtatious, “I’d definitely believe it.”

“Stop,” you say, rolling your eyes a little at him, “But, seriously, do you think I can pull that off?”

“Why not? You’re intelligent, well educated, and you seem to have a knack for socializing with people, you put them at ease and get them to trust you right away, I’ve seen you do it a lot.” Din compliments you in such a matter-of-fact voice that you find yourself thinking that just maybe you could do it.

“Well, and in your beskar you definitely look like a royal bodyguard,” you say thoughtfully, and then flirt back with him, “My knight in shining armor.”

He chuckles at that, “See, you’re already in character.”

“What if they notice that we’re…” you trail off and just gesture between you two with your hands. You’re uncertain how to define what you are, together? involved? You haven’t really discussed it.

“A couple?” he asks. Ok, so he’s defined it.

“Yes.”

Din thinks for a moment and then chuckles again deeply, “You’ll say I’m your consort.”

“My consort?” You snicker at his choice of words.

“Yeah, your consort,” he repeats, and you can swear by the tone of his voice that he must have the biggest grin on under that helmet right now. “I kinda like the idea, my job being to protect you and service your every, ahem, need.”

“Din, the kiddo is right there,” you whisper a little flustered at his suggestiveness.

“Come here, my princess,” he says playfully as he pats his lap.

“You’re having too much fun with this,” you tell him, but you move towards him anyway because you can’t help yourself.

He tugs you down to sit in his lap, “Oh, we’ve only just started having fun.”

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

The landing crew that meets you on Angel One is most decidedly not about fun. When you descend the Crest’s ramp, you are met with five of the largest warrior-like women you’ve ever seen in your entire life. They are all broad, muscular, and statuesque, decked out in black and gold armor on their arms, chests, and legs, and wearing capes decorated with animal fur. Their makeup is like war paint and they seem to share Din’s love of weapons. You can’t deny that they are all fiercely beautiful and you suddenly feel insecure. Geeze, no wonder Din wanted to come here, these women look like a Mandalorian’s wet dream. You take a deep breath and tell yourself that you are a beautiful and influential princess. You repeat this to yourself a few times and steady your shoulders as you do.

You hold your head up as high as you can and address the women, “Good morning and thank you for welcoming us to your home. We hope that your Mistress will find us worthy of a visit.”

One of the women nods to you as she says, “Right this way Your Highness, Mistress Lagertha is expecting you.”

You follow the woman as she leads you into a large governmental building. Both Din and the child follow behind you allowing you to be the more prominent figure in your little party. The building is a very grand stone structure with sweeping columns and polished stone floors. The furnishings are mostly dark, grey and black with a few metallic accents. You pass several people, all women, who stop to stare at you as you walk down the long corridor. When you reach the end of the passageway, you are ushered into a large office where you see a majestic blonde woman. While this woman is not wearing armor, she exudes power and once again, you are dwarfed by her size. She rises from her desk when you enter and offers you a small half bow.

“Welcome, Your Highness, please have a seat and we will begin the interview.” She pointedly addresses her welcome only to you as if Din isn’t even present. You approach her desk and the proffered chair, while he remains quietly by the door with the child’s pram.

“Thank you for being willing to speak with me, it’s an honor to meet you, Mistress Lagertha,” Now that you’re both seated you feel a little more confident as it’s easier to look her in the eye.

“It’s very interesting to meet you,” she says with a smile, “I’ve never seen an off-worlder before.” She looks over your appearance carefully. In helping to perpetrate your ruse, you’re wearing a summer dress in a pink floral fabric. The dress has a long swirly skirt and it seemed like the most princess-y thing you owned. You’ve also taken extra care to do your hair and make-up in a slightly fancier style. You even took the time to dress up the child as your little ward, wrapping a brightly colored scarf around his tunic like a sash and pinning a costume jewelry broach to it. He seemed to like it, once he stopped trying to bite it. Of course, Din is handsome as always in his well-polished armor and you think all together you should be able to fool these people who haven’t seen many real royals.

You’re surprised when she starts to laugh lightly after looking you over. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I wasn’t expecting you to look so manly.”

“Excuse me?” Your confusion could not be more evident as you look down at yourself. This is quite possibly the least manly you’ve ever looked.

“Well, I knew you would be small, those who’ve seen off-world women have always described them as small, but the pastels, the flowers, even your make-up, you look like one of our men.” She chuckles again lightly.

“Ah, I see,” you reply trying to keep your face neutral, “Where I come from, this would be considered very feminine.” She smiles widely at this and laughs again. Well, if anything you’ve certainly broken the ice.

“That’s hysterical!” She says, delighted, “Plus your man is wearing armor! I’ve never seen such a thing.”

Oh Maker! You really wish she wouldn’t laugh at Din. To his credit, Din makes no reaction whatsoever; he’s doing his silent suit of armor thing again.

She asks you a long series of biographical questions most of which are very easy to answer and require little to no lying at all. Thankfully, you and Din practiced speaking about your invented past and so when you do need to be untruthful it comes out naturally. The only time you feel you really slip up is when she asks you about your views on the New Republic.

“Well, clearly there is much we can learn about your culture and so much that we can share with you about ours,” you say diplomatically.

“I support the New Republic, but I wish they would be more persistent in going after former Imperials. There are still too many evil men out there wreaking havoc in the galaxy.” You can’t keep the bitterness out of your voice and you know you’ve dropped your polite expression in favor of a frown. Uh oh, probably should have given a more politically neutral answer.

Fortunately, Mistress Lagertha says, “A very good point. Men seems to be particularly bent towards doing evil.”

While you can’t agree with that blanket statement, it seems better to simply nod and continue with the interview. For the rest of the time, you try to be your most charming self and it seems to work, because you’re starting to feel like she’s almost a friend the more you converse. When she gets to the part about the reason for your visit, you have a more elaborate answer about cultural exchange prepared, but she says,

“Of course the reason for your visit must be the Jubilee of Astrid which begins this evening. It’s our most sacred and special time, and the most common time for off-worlders to request a visit.”

“Yes, I would be truly honored to be able to experience your sacred celebration,” you say in an awed tone. You have no idea what she is talking about, but this is clearly the answer she expects to hear.

“I understand as a princess there must be certain pressures on you, especially from familial demands,” Lagertha says.

“Yes, there are,” you agree with her demurely, but still clueless as to what she’s getting at.

“Well, you can be certain to have your prayers answered while you are here, and enjoy yourself immensely! May Astrid bless you!” She gives you a cheeky grin as she says this and her eyes flick back to Din for the first time in quite a while. “Incidentally, if your man isn’t up to the task, I’m sure we can find you a man who will find your uniqueness appealing.”

“I assure you that won’t be necessary, my guard is always prepared for any task,” you tell her. You’re still not sure of her meaning, but there’s something in the gleam in her eye that tells you that you only want to be with Din for whatever ‘tasks’ are involved in this holiday of theirs.

“Well, that’s good then.” She’s smiling at you again and then extends her hand, “Welcome to Angel One, we would be honored to grant you permission to stay on our planet for as long as you like.”

You grasp her large hand in your smaller one and give her a beaming (and relieved) smile as you thank her. You’ve successfully secured your visit.

A communication device on her desks beeps and she presses a small button, which allows a voice to state, “Mistress Sigrid wishes to meet the off-world princess.”

“Thank you, Brenna, please let her know that we’re ready for her at any time,” Lagertha replies. She then turns her attention back to you as she explains, “Mistress Sigrid is our leader, the Elected One, and I must confess she has been monitoring this meeting.” You nod and smile, it doesn’t surprise you really, considering how cautious they are about visitors.

“I am delighted to have the opportunity to meet her.” You hope this is a sign that you’ve made a good impression if their leader wants to say hello.

A door in a side wall opens and a stately woman enters. You rise to your feet out of respect as she approaches. She’s older than Lagertha but still moves with the athletic grace of a younger woman. Like the other women you’ve seen here, she is striking with shrewd eyes and a small scar on her cheek that adds to her mystique rather than marring her beauty.

“Your Highness, how lovely it is to meet you,” Mistress Sigrid greets you and reaches out to shake your hand.

“It is a pleasure, Elected One,” you reply, craning your neck to meet her gaze, as once again she is incredibly tall.

“I must say I have never seen or heard an off-world woman quite like you before,” she tells you with respect, “The others I’ve met have been rather anxious and shy, and so easily intimidated.” She dismisses them with a wave of her hand.

“It is a shame you haven’t met more off-world women then, many are quite strong and accomplished. Perhaps while I am here, I can demonstrate how capable we can be,” you reply. The way she says that irritates you immensely but you know you need to stay overly respectful towards her and so you swallow any other comments you’d like to make.

She laughs warmly at your response, “See, I knew I liked you already! You have a spark about you.”

“Thank you,” you say.

“And this is your little ward, hmm?” She walks over to the child who is starting at her with big eyes and a slightly wary expression.

“Yes, my guard rescued him and he is in my care.” You follow her over, reach down into his pram to pick him up, and hold him so she can see him better.

“Hello, tiny child,” she says to him, “Aren’t you a cute little thing?”

He looks mesmerized by her for a moment, and then is suddenly shy, turning his head into your chest. She merely chuckles and you gently place him back in his pram and hand him one of his stuffed toys to hold.

“Shame he’s a male though,” she comments. You don’t know how to respond to that terrible statement and so you elect to simply stay quiet.

“And this is your bodyguard, a Mandalorian.” Mistress Sigrid approaches Din now looking him up and down with curiosity. “I’ve never had the fortune to see a real Mandalorian, I’ve only heard stories,” she says with interest. It’s the most attention anyone has paid to Din this entire time.

“What do you call him?” Mistress Lagertha pipes up.

“Mando,” you tell her, knowing that you can’t share Din’s real name with anyone.

“Mando, will you turn around, I’d like to look at you,” Mistress Sigrid says, speaking to him directly. Something about her tone of voice rubs you the wrong way and you’re fortunate that she’s looking so intently at Din because you fail to hide your displeasure on your face.

Din complies with her request, rotating so she can look at him. He had heard that the women openly objectify the men on this planet and so he knows this is the type of treatment he can expect. It doesn’t really bother him too much as he’s used to people staring at him no matter where he is. He knows Mandalorians are unique and the beskar will always draw attention. He has to bite his lip though to keep from laughing at your expression as Mistress Sigrid ogles him. You look positively jealous.

“That is sufficient, Mando.” The Elected One seems to have gotten her fill.

“Mistress,” he replies softly.

“So unusual to see a man so large and wearing armor,” Mistress Sigrid is turning back towards you with a smile and a little shrug.

Din sees that you’ve managed to paste a bland smile back on your face as you tell her, “I’m so accustomed to it that it would be odd to see him in anything else.” He catches your eye and gives you a nod. It’s the only thing he can do to reassure you that everything is going well. Honestly, he’s so thankful that you were able to do all of the talking for this meeting. You handled all the questions so well and he knows you were able to be charismatic in a way he doesn’t think he ever could. It’s a real credit to your communication skills, especially as Mistress Sigrid is now inviting you to stay at the Elected One’s state residence.

“That is very kind of you, Mistress Sigrid,” you say, “But we wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble on our behalf.”

“Nonsense, it will be delightful to have you there,” she replies, “You will be my special guests for the Jubilee. I do hope you have something red to wear, it is the official color of the celebration.”

“As a matter of fact, I have just the dress,” you tell her.

Mistress Sigrid arranges for two of her staff to accompany you back to the Razor Crest so you can collect your things before they will take you to get settled at the state residence.

“I’ll see you tonight at the opening gala for the Jubilee, and may Astrid bless you!” Mistress Sigrid says before bidding you farewell for now.

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

The state residence is an elegant mansion and you have to remind yourself that you’re supposed to be a princess and so you shouldn’t be overly impressed by any of this. Still you can’t help letting your eyes wander over the beautiful furnishings and art. The mansion reflects much of what seems to be the core beliefs for this society, that women are strong fighters who have accomplished great things, while men are beautiful decorations. You haven’t seen any men in person yet, but in the artwork, they are portrayed as soft and fragile looking creatures with dainty features dressed primarily in flowery pastels, just like you at the moment.

Every woman you pass still stops to openly gawk at you and now you are even hearing laughter accompanied by hushed voices no doubt discussing your odd appearance. You try to ignore it, but you’re not used to being assessed like this so much. You look over to Din and wonder if this is what it’s like for him on a daily basis, not that people laugh at him, of course.

When you reach your room at the residence, you are astonished by the grandeur of the accommodations you’ve been given. Your ‘room’ is actually a large suite with a sitting room, bedroom, and elegant bathroom. After briefly showing you around, Mistress Sigrid’s staff finally leave you alone to rest and relax before the grand gala tonight.

“Thank the Maker!” you say flopping onto the giant four-poster bed. “I feel like I’ve been under a microscope this whole day.”

“Yeah, they really seem quite fascinated by you,” Din says chuckling. He hands the child a piece of fruit from the generous buffet of treats the Mistress’ staff has provided for you. The little guy chomps down on it quickly and you smile at his cuteness.

“I’d say they’re fascinated by us, or at least Mistress Sigrid sure was,” you say still a little miffed at the way she practically undressed Din with her eyes.

Din laughs again, “Your face when she was making me turn for her nearly had me in stitches,” he says.

“What do you mean?” you ask sitting up to look at him better.

He walks over to you and cups your cheek in his hand gently, “You looked rather jealous.” His voice is still full of mirth as he says this and you get the impression that he liked it, at least a little.

“I didn’t like the way she was treating you like an object,” you say reproachfully, but then you look up more directly at him, “Ok, but fine, maybe I was jealous too,” you admit.

“Cyar’ika, you don’t have to be jealous,” he says, “But it is kinda cute.” He’s still chuckling as he steps in between your legs and his hands move to your shoulders, squeezing them lightly.

“It’s hard not be when they’re all insanely giant, stunning, war goddess women,” you reply. Looking up at him thoughtfully, you say, “Seems like that would be just the kind of woman a Mandalorian would find incredibly attractive.” You can’t help the note of insecurity in your voice as you say that.

He shrugs his shoulders, “Not this Mandalorian, besides, I’m already with the most beautiful woman in the galaxy.” He taps your nose playfully as he says this and you smile back at him.

“You really do say the sweetest things, Din.”

“Only to you, cyar’ika.” He replies and you can hear the smile in his voice.

The sound of inquisitive coos interrupts your conversation, and you look over to the child. “Maybe they’ll let us visit the gardens for a while. I think the kiddo could use some fresh air.”

“That’s a good idea, especially because it sounds like our entire evening is already planned with their gala.” Din nods his head as he says this.

“I’m just going to change first, maybe if I put on something black they won’t stare as much,” you tell him.

“Ok, the kid and I’ll wait in the other room.”

You take a moment to hang up your gown for tonight as well as your black dress that you thought to bring too. You put a few of your other things away in the dresser in the room to help keep them organized, when you find a few things that have been provided for your stay, some soft robes, slippers, and a couple black satin sleep masks. Your mind instantly goes to a naughty place as you feel the soft material between your fingers. You slip it on over your eyes, blindfolding yourself completely.

“Hey, Din, come here and look what I found,” you say playfully. You hear him come back into the room.

“What? Oh.” Din’s voice seems to drop several octaves with just that one small sound. “Can you see anything with that on?”

“Not a thing,” you reply.

“Stay there and keep it on,” he tells you and you hear his footsteps approaching you until you can feel that he’s right in front of you.

“You really can’t see anything?” Din asks again.

“No, I promise.”

You hear a soft hiss followed by a metallic thunk on the dresser behind you. Then you feel Din pull you in close to him and he lowers his face towards yours, letting his bare forehead touch yours for the first time. He nuzzles into you more, letting his nose caress yours and then you feel his warm breath against your lips.

“May I kiss you, really kiss you?” Din asks his lips practically brushing against your mouth with his question.

“Yes,” you breathe out.

His lips melt into yours in a sweet kiss as his hands come up to rest on either side of your neck. He seems just a little hesitant, so you slowly start to move beneath him, guiding. He follows your lead, letting his lips explore more. You part your lips slightly so you can tease his plump bottom lip in between yours. He parts his lips when you do this and daringly, you let your tongue lick into his mouth just slightly. His reaction is immediate, as he opens his mouth more to give you greater access. You deepen the kiss and brush your tongue against his. He groans deep in his chest when your tongues meet and he pulls you in tight to his body. You let your hands roam around the back of his neck and into his soft hair. You’re kissing him passionately now, showing him what you like. Din’s response is enthusiastic, as he chases your lips and tongue wherever they wish to lead him. Just before you pull away to catch your breath, you give his bottom lip a suck making him groan again.

“Is kissing always this great?” Din pants out.

“No,” you tell him honestly, “I think it must you.”

“It’s us,” he says before capturing your lips again. This time he teases you with his tongue and tries sucking your lip the way you did to his. It draws out a moan from you; he’s clearly a very quick learner.

A sudden crashing sound from the other room reminds you both that you’re not alone and that you promised the child some outdoor fun. Din groans softly before giving you one more quick kiss and then pulls away from you. You feel him reach for his helmet as you try to take a deep breath and collect yourself.

“Ok, you can take off the mask now,” he says, “But, put it somewhere safe for later.”

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

After a nice afternoon spent exploring the mansion’s lush gardens, followed by a hot cup of tea and several delicious snacks that were thoughtfully provided, it’s time to get ready for the gala. You already know you’ll wear your new red gown, but you decide to go more avant garde with your hair and make-up to hopefully create a better impression on the women tonight. It’s a good look, but something is missing that will give you a certain edge that you want to achieve. You look through your meager jewelry collection but nothing gives off the right vibe. You look over to where the child is playing with Din and you have an idea.

“Buddy, can I borrow your mythosaur for tonight?” You ask the little one. He smiles up at you and gives you his happy coo. You gently take the necklace off him and drape it over your head. The silver pendant comes to rest just above your cleavage, and it’s perfect, much better for the darker image you’re trying to achieve.

You turn with a flourish towards Din, “Well, what do you think? Still a princess but maybe more to the standards of this place?”

Din cannot respond to you because his mouth has gone completely dry. He thinks you look outstanding in that sexy dress that he bought you and then, it’s made even better because you’re wearing his mythosaur around your neck. Fuck! He looks at it sparkling against your bosom, it’s like you’ve put on a giant sign that says you belong to him. It creates a primal reaction in him and it’s taking all his self-control not to grab you and claim you as his right now.

“Din? Is it too much?”

“No, I like it,” Din practically growls at you, “I like it so much, I’m thinking I’d like to pull you back into that bedroom and show you how much I like it.”

“Di-in,” you stretch out his name as you can feel your cheeks blazing with his praise and it makes you giggle a little. He’s never been so outrageously direct like that before.

“I’m serious,” he says, “That’s how good you look. In fact you better pick up the baby to keep me in check.” He’s teasing you now, but his voice still sounds predatory. Your heart is racing and he’s making you feel lightheaded.

“Stop, you’re being naughty,” you flirt back at him, but you do pick up the child in any case. As much as you’d much rather stay in the bedroom with him, you know you have an obligation to go to this gala tonight. And as if on cue, there is a knock at your door.

Mistress Sigrid is there and for the first time, there are men with her. The men are much smaller in stature, dressed in soft pastel colors and wearing make-up that resembles what you had on earlier today. You notice that one of the men is more conservatively dressed, while the other is wearing a rather revealing outfit with a dramatic deep vee neckline that practically screams ‘boy toy’. You’ve never seen anything quite like it. Both men clock you with big eyes and smiles, like the women, they appear to be amused by you too, only at least they don’t laugh out loud. When they glance at Din, however, their smiles falter and they seem taken aback at his presence. You wonder if Din looks somehow feminine to them going by their standards. Your thoughts are interrupted by Sigrid before you have more time to consider the men.

“Good evening, Your Highness, you look festive,” she says, but from her tone it doesn’t exactly sound like a compliment. She is also wearing red, but instead of a gown, she has on a sharply tailored suit, almost like a red tuxedo.

“Thank you.” You just smile at her diplomatically.

“Gregor is here to collect your little ward for the evening to take him off to the nursery to play with the other children and provide him with a nice place to sleep for the night.” She motions to the more conservatively dressed man who is smiling and waving at the child.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting that, he usually just accompanies me everywhere,” you respond. Although Gregor seems nice enough, you feel reluctant at leaving the little guy with someone else.

“Nonsense, you don’t want to bring a child to the gala tonight. It isn’t done.” Sigrid declares.

“Well, I need to see the nursery first, before I decide if I’m going to let him stay there.” You want to be certain you and Din know exactly where the child will be and how to get to him quickly in case of an emergency.

“I suppose,” Sigrid sighs, but then she smiles at you again, “There’s that feisty spark I saw in you earlier.”

Gregor motions for you to follow him, “This way Your Highness,” he says in a shy voice.

“Gregor, do you take care of many children?” You would like to know more about his background.

“Oh, yes, I am the nanny for all of the mistresses on the High Council for any of their children under age 5.” He smiles warmly at you, “They will all be there tonight too, so your little one will have plenty of other children to play with; there’s about a dozen all together.”

“Is it just you taking care of all of the children?” That seems like too many for just one person.

“No, no, I have three assistants too,” Gregor says, “You’ll be able to meet them at the nursery.”

You continue to pepper Gregor with questions about childcare and the nursery and he seems positively delighted with all the attention you’re paying towards him. You sometimes hear Sigrid let out a sigh as if she finds the entire conversation boring, but you don’t care, after all the child is your primary priority. When you arrive at the nursery, you can see that everything is quite nice and it does seem like a safe place for the little guy to spend the evening. You kiss him goodbye and Din pats him on the head and gives him a soft reminder that he should be on his best behavior.

“Oh isn’t that cute!” The boy-toy guy coos as he watches you and Din say goodnight to the child. It’s the first you’ve heard him speak.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask you your name earlier,” you say to him as you’re leaving the nursery, “I didn’t mean to be rude, I was just very focused on the child, you understand.”

“Well aren’t you sweet, Your Highness,” he says beaming at you, “I’m Trent, I’m Mistress Sigrid’s lover.” He seems very proud of that fact.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Trent,” you reply with a nod. You slip your hand around Din’s elbow deciding that they already seem to know you two are a couple, so you might as well feel free to show a little affection. You tilt your head towards Din as you say, “This is Mando.”

“I know,” Trent says giggling a little, “The man in armor, it’s so shocking.” Trent sounds both amused and a little scandalized. “It’s super nice to meet you, Mando. I can’t wait to hear more about you and your princess at dinner. You’re all anyone is talking about.” He winks and flashes his dazzling white teeth.

“Nice to meet you,” Din says. His voice and body language don’t give anything away but you wonder if he’s a little taken aback by Trent’s enthusiasm.

“Yes, the men will have plenty of time to get to know one another during the feast since they’ll be sitting together at their table,” Sigrid explains, and then addresses you directly, “You’ll be with me at the head table with all the other mistresses of the High Council.”

“Oh, you don’t sit together as couples?” With the insinuations that Mistress Lagertha made earlier about the Jubilee, it seemed like this was going to be an event for couples or at least dates.

“Not during the dinner,” Sigrid tells you, “It gives us women time to have serious discussions while the men can chatter about lighter things. Trust me, your Mando will have a much better time conversing with the other men. He won’t miss you at all.” You doubt that, but say nothing and simply grip Din’s arm a bit tighter as a way of silently communicating with him.

“Besides,” she continues, “You’ll have plenty of time to sit together during the entertainment.”

“Ooh, it’s going to be so good this year too,” Trent says, “My best friend is one of the performers and he’s been filling me in on all the juicy details. I’ll tell you all about it, Mando.” Oh my, seems Din’s made a new friend already.

“Just be sure you don’t spoil it for him though, Trent,” Sigrid says patting his shoulder.

“Oh, I won’t,” Trent beams up at her. He reminds you a bit of an eager puppy just so happy to please her in any way.

At last, you come to a large room festooned with red, black, and gold decorations and several round dining tables. The table in the middle of the room is the biggest and it is raised up on a dais so that it is more visible across the entire room. There are several people milling about with glasses of wine and a few servers passing appetizers throughout the space. You’re thankful to see that several of the women are also wearing red gowns, so at least you’re not the only one in a dress. But once again, your attire is much more feminine by your standards. Where your gown is more revealing and designed to show off the curves of your figure, theirs have long sleeves and high necklines designed to showcase their muscular frames. The men are almost all dressed like Trent in soft pastels of varying colors with revealing tops that show off their chests and very tight pants that show off other assets. As you enter the room with Mistress Sigrid, a gong sounds to announce your arrival and every eye that wasn’t already staring at you is suddenly on you as a hush comes over the room.

“Good Evening, all!” Mistress Sigrid’s voice booms out, “I am pleased to welcome you to this year’s opening gala of the Jubilee of Astrid, may she bless you all!” Cheers and applause follow this statement. Sigrid holds up her hand and waits for everyone to quiet again.

“Tonight we welcome our special guests, a princess and her Mandalorian!” Polite applause follows this along with several whispers and small bouts of laughter. You smile placidly at the room and nod your head in greeting.

“Take your seats and let’s begin the feast!” Sigrid announces and the cheering and applause build back up.

“C’mon, Mando I’ll show you where our table is,” Trent motions.

“Just a moment,” Din replies, before turning to you and dropping his helmet to your forehead, his voice is low so that only you can hear it as he says, “Have a good dinner, cyar’ika.”

“I’ll see you later,” you whisper back to him and give his hands a squeeze before being led away by Sigrid.

“You two are very affectionate with one another, I think you’re going to enjoy tonight’s festivities quite a lot,” Sigrid says smirking at you.

At the table, she introduces you to all of the mistresses seated there, most of whom look you over with amusement and curiosity. There are a few though who seem displeased by your presence and they openly frown at you. You suppose it is due to your off-worlder status more than anything else, but you sincerely hope you haven’t made some type of social gaff that may have offended them. You look over to the men’s table and notice that Din has positioned himself so that he is seated in your direct line of sight. It puts you at ease knowing that you can look up at any time and see that familiar helmet and visor.

One of the younger mistresses, Eira, seems the most interested in you and she seems to be one of the friendliest so you strike up a conversation with her. She tells you about her background as a professional fighter, and how that fame brought her into the arena of politics. You’re telling her a little bit about your travels with Din, when one of the other mistresses, Runa, pipes up,

“Yes, tell us all about the Mandalorian.”

“Well, he’s an incredibly skilled fighter, very brave, and I trust him with my life,” you say, thinking that’s what will most likely impress them.

“No, no,” Runa says, “Tell us about your relationship with him. And not just the lovey-dovey stuff, the good stuff.”

“The good stuff?” you repeat, rather surprised.

“Yeah, like what’s it like sleeping with a man who’s so large?” Eira asks, apparently also curious to hear about Din.

“Well, it’s great,” you tell them, “He’s very big and strong and I like the way it makes me feel when I’m in his arms.” You know you’re being liberal with the definition of ‘sleeping with’ here but they don’t need to know that.

“Huh?” Eira responds, “It just seems so weird. I like my men the smaller the better, like I can just wrap myself around their whole body.” The other women nod along with her and several look at you like you must be crazy.

“I suppose that’s just one of the differences between our cultures, but I would say that where I come from, people are very accepting of all different types of bodies and partners. I’m sure there are women from my society who prefer smaller men like you do.” Eira smiles at you when you say this.

“Yes, but when you say big, is he big everywhere?” Runa asks you pointedly and motions with her hands holding them side by side and then expending them outward little by little.

You laugh at loud at that, especially because of the alarmed look on her face as her hands get wider apart. You notice too that now the entire table is waiting for your answer, so much for Sigrid’s ‘serious discussions’. You smile, amused by their interest, and you can’t help but glance over at Din for a moment before you tell them,

“He is very well endowed.” You might not have direct knowledge of that, but from the time you saw him after swimming and the times you’ve felt him against you lately, you know your answer is correct.

“But doesn’t that, you know, hurt you?” Runa wants to know. Her face is very concerned and you do all you can to keep from laughing again so that she won’t think you rude.

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” you tell her, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Tell us more about him as a lover,” Lagertha says, her voice loud as it carries across the table. You cringe a bit internally at that because you know that the men’s table has to have heard her. You look right at Din and he tips his helmet in a way that you know means ‘really?’ and you give him a slight shrug in response.

Maker, what can you say to these horny women? Your experience with him is so limited as it is. You decide to just go off of what you do know and then let your imagination fill in the gaps. You figure as long as you keep them entertained with this, they’ll be less likely to ask you any other questions about your invented background that could potentially poke holes in your story. So you tell them all about how generous Din is as a lover, that he’s tender and caring, but then able to be harder and rough when you want him to be. You make him out to be a complete sex god for these women and they are entranced.

“Well, then, it seems like you have the perfect partner for the Jubilee,” Sigrid says chuckling, “I’m sure he’ll get you pregnant.”

You choke on your wine as she says this. What the hell?

“Of course he will, you don’t have to worry,” Eira says and she pats your arm supportively, “After all, that is the point of a fertility festival and Astrid is sure to bless you even if you’re an off-worlder.”

Sweet Maker above! You can only imagine what the rest of this Jubilee will entail.

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

You and Din are finally able to be back together after the dinner. It feels like a relief to have him place his hand on the small of your back as you both follow everyone to a large ballroom where the entertainment is scheduled to begin soon.

“So, what am I like as a lover?” Din leans down to ask you discreetly, his voice is teasing though.

“I knew you had to have heard that,” you say embarrassed, “But these crazy horny women just wouldn’t stop asking me about you.”

“It was the same for me,” he tells you, “All the men wanted to hear about how we fell in love.”

You laugh as you tell him, “Oh no, the women only wanted to hear about sex. But I am curious to know what you told the men.”

“And I’m curious to hear what you told the women,” Din replies.

“Well, obviously I had to do some speculating, but in essence I told them you were a very generous and highly-skilled lover, oh, and that you’re very large.” You wink at him as you say this and give him your most flirtatious smile.

Din pulls you in closer to him and tilts his head down to tell you, “I think that’s a fairly accurate description but I’d much rather you’d experience it first-hand instead of just taking my word for it.” You shiver in anticipation at that.

“Ok, now, what did you tell the men?” You’re very interested to hear this.

“I told them the truth, that you’re the most beautiful, kind, and caring woman I’ve ever known, that you make my life so much better, and that I couldn’t stop myself from falling for you, I also told them that you’re a wonderful kisser.” He says this so sincerely that your heart swells with happiness.

You drop your voice to a whisper so that there’s no way anyone will overhear you use his name, “Din, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” you have to pause for a moment to collect yourself before you tell him, “I hope you know that you make my life so much better too.” You want to tell him more but it’s too public here.

“Thank you for telling me, cyar’ika,” he replies, his voice sounding warm even in a whisper.

Speaking of romantic, the ballroom is set up like a large cabaret with small tables for couples all around, only instead of chairs, each table has a rounded booth with a high back, positioned to face the large open area in the front of the room. As couples start to be seated, you can see that there’s quite a bit of privacy for each table despite the large number of attendees.

“Trent said we can sit wherever we like, but I get the impression we should pick something near the performance area so they’ll think we’re really interested in the show,” Din tells you. You find a table in the second row with a good view of the stage area. The booth is very comfortable and you lean into Din as he places his arm around your shoulders.

“Did Trent give you details about the show?”

He groans slightly, “Yes, probably too many, the best I can tell you is that we’re going to see an erotic celebration designed to honor their goddess, Astrid.”

“Ah yes, I found out something else about this celebration,” you tell him, “This whole Jubilee is a fertility festival; everyone thinks we’re here so that you’ll get me pregnant, that’s what they mean when they say ‘may Astrid bless you’.” Your face feels hot as you inform him of this.

“Well, I’ll certainly give it my all, cyar’ika,” Din tell you, his voice sounding deeper.

“Very funny,” you reply, “I have an implant in any case.”

“Still, practice does make perfect,” he says, laughing, “And the thought does intrigue me.” You giggle in response to that and then start to quiet down as the lights dim.

Truthfully, Din is more than intrigued by the idea. The men also filled him in on the purpose of this holiday during the dinner and he has been thinking about it ever since. Honestly, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking of taking you to bed all day, and his arousal has only been growing. While impractical, the idea of seeing you pregnant with his child is appealing to him in ways he never knew were possible. The reality of how much he wants that someday with you is so strong it’s almost overwhelming to him. In the past, the idea of becoming attached to someone never interested him; the women that he met were good for a sexual release but they were never anyone he wanted to spend time with outside of the bedroom. But with you, everything looks different, feels different, and he wants things he’s never wanted before.

Din’s thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of several dancers, male and female, who have started their performance. He watches a bit at first but then becomes bored and turns his attention back to you. He likes the way you’re cuddled up to him, he’s glad you’re not shy about showing him affection in public. Din is also enjoying watching your face and your reactions as you watch the performance unfold. You seem enthralled until you notice his visor is turned toward you instead of the dancers.

“Is everything alright?” you ask, blinking up at him. He simply gives your shoulder a squeeze and nods.

He keeps looking at you instead of the performance though until he sees your eyes widen and you gasp. Din turns his attention back to the dancers to see that they are removing most of their clothing to reveal their bodies. The dancers then start to pair off and dance together in what can only be described as the most sexual dancing Din has ever seen. There is grinding, thrusting, and a lot of groping. Turns out Trent was right about it being an erotic spectacle. He chuckles a bit to himself at the description and really, it’s nothing worse than some of the pornographic holovids he’s seen before. He looks down at you however and notices that you have become a little restless next to him. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the dancers and he sees your tongue come out to wet your lips as you watch. This is turning you on, he realizes. As he glances around the room to see if anyone is paying attention to you, he notes that several of the couples in the booths have started to put on their own performances, so to speak, and no one is interested in the two of you anymore. Never a man to let an opportunity pass by, Din decides to take full advantage of the situation and he reaches over and pulls you into his lap.

“Din, what are you doing?” You gasp, surprised by his actions.

“Shh, cyar’ika, look around,” he tells you. You look over at the other booths to see that most everyone else is making out all around you.

“Oh”

“It’s ok, keep watching the dancers, I can tell you like it,” Din says as his arms wrap around you. He holds you like that for a moment as you continue to watch the performers simulate various sexual acts. But before long his hands begin to wander, starting by running his fingers lightly over your collarbone. He traces the line of your necklace down to the mythosaur and then brushes against the tops of your breasts just along the edge of your bodice. Din hears you let out a small whine as he touches you and it emboldens him to palm one of your breasts fully. Between the layers of fabric of your dress and his gloves, it’s only a tease, but as he continues to grope you, he can hear the pace of your breathing increase. Din wants more and his hand finds the long slit in your dress allowing him to run his fingers up your thigh. He can feel your warmth as he gently kneads your flesh. Each movement he makes seems to elicit a small sound from you and he’s eager to hear more. Din slowly makes his way higher up your skirt thinking he’ll just tease the edges of your panties or maybe touch you over them, when he realizes he’s not finding any.

“Oh, my naughty girl, are you not wearing anything under this dress?” Din asks.

“Didn’t seem necessary,” you whisper to him.

He lets his fingers lightly explore between your legs, and when he can feel how wet you are already he can’t keep himself from letting his hand become more bold. He runs two of his fingers through your damp folds and up to the small bundle of nerves that he knows will bring you the most pleasure. Din feels you shudder against him as he circles your clit before bringing his fingers back down. The movement makes you shift your hips over his making you grind against his cock and he lets out a deep groan. It’s more than he can take and he says,

“We’re going back to room, now.”

“But, the show is still going on,” you say a little worried about being rude to your hostess.

“No one will miss us,” Din insists, “Let’s go.”

You quickly slide out of the booth following Din and he grabs your hand to hustle you to the exit. He’s right that no one seems to notice you at all, except for one other couple that is also sneaking out early. Din and you practically run back to your room, but once you get inside all you can do is stand there for a moment looking at each other.

“I want to make love to you,” Din says, his voice deep, “Please tell me you want that too.”

“I do, so much,” you reply.

He sweeps you into his arms and brings his helmet down to your forehead, as he asks, “Can we use the sleep mask? I really want to kiss you again and be able to use my mouth on your body.”

“Yes, but can we get undressed first?” you ask, “Because I’d like to see your body for a bit before.”

“Absolutely,” Din replies and he starts to pull off his armor. You have a lot less to remove, so with a simple whoosh of fabric, you’re standing before him in only your bra and his mythosaur necklace. You unhook the bra and toss it aside.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Din says, as he yanks at his own clothing in an attempt to be faster. You reach to lift the necklace off, when Din stops you, “No, don’t, I’d like it if you’d leave that on.”

“Oh?”

“I like seeing it on you, especially when it’s the only thing you have on,” he rasps out.

He’s finally almost totally naked except for his boxers and his helmet. Din can see you are transfixed with the way you are practically hopping from foot to foot in anticipation. It makes him smile how enthusiastic you are to see him. He slows his movements to draw out the moment and watches your face intently as he leisurely lowers the boxers from his hips. He sees your eyes widen and he chuckles as your mouth makes the most adorable little ‘o’.

“Wow, Din, you are the gorgeous one,” you reply practically in awe, “And I was right, you are large.”

Din chuckles at that comment, “I’m glad you like the view.”

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of it,” you say as you walk closer to him and as soon as you are in arms reach, Din pulls you to him so he can finally feel you. The sensation overwhelms him and all he can do is hold you there reveling in the feeling of your naked body against his. He lets out a loud groan from deep in his chest.

“I never thought this could feel so good,” Din breathes out. You shift against him and he groans again, “Please can we get the blindfold now? I need to kiss you.”

You pull away from him to reach into the nightstand drawer where you stashed the sleep mask. You take one last long look at his nude form before giving him an appreciative smile and slipping the mask on over your eyes. Not a second later, you hear a clunk as the helmet hits the floor and then Din is on you. He kisses you like he’ll never get another chance again, so full of passion and desire that it makes your head spin. His kiss is so all consuming that you don’t even realize that he’s picked you up and carried you to the bed, until he’s lying you back onto the soft cover. Din breaks the kiss just for a moment so that he can climb on top of you and come to rest comfortably between your spread legs.

Din could kiss you forever if you would let him. He loves the way your lips mold to his and the feeling of your tongue tasting his. He only pulls away to let you both catch your breath slightly before he’s back, trying to kiss you with even more fervor each time. Finally, you break the kiss so that you can explore more and the soft feel of your lips on his neck is magical. You find a sensitive spot just under his ear that makes him moan with pleasure. That moan quickly turns into a growl though as you use your teeth to nip at the spot.

“Ah, cyar’ika, let me try that on you,” he says, moving so that he has better access to your neck. Like you, he starts with soft kisses before biting into your neck to mark you as his. You’re more vocal than he is, letting out little mewls and whines of pleasure the more he kisses and sucks on your skin. He works his way down your neck to your chest, kissing and nipping at you the entire way. Finally, he’s at your breasts and Din does something he’s been dreaming of forever. He takes your hardened nipple into his mouth, pleasuring the sensitive peak with his tongue.

“Din!” you cry out his name and arch your back beneath him from how wonderful it feels. You can’t keep still as he suckles you. You run your fingers through his thick, wavy hair and then down his strong shoulders. When he tries out his teeth on your breast, you scratch your fingernails down his back. You feel his responding groan vibrate against your chest before he lifts his head from you,

“Do that again, cyar’ika, I liked it,” he tells you before switching to your other nipple to lavish it with the same mind-blowing pleasure. You rake your fingernails down his back again and again, as you writhe beneath him. It feels so good but yet, it isn’t enough.

“Please, Din, please,” you beg him.

He pulls off your breast with a soft pop of his lips, “Please what?” he asks you, his voice sounding amused.

“Touch me,” you pant out, “Please.”

“I am touching you,” Din teases and he drops his head back down so he can lick in between your breasts and down your stomach. “Or do you want me touch you somewhere else? Maybe here?” He licks and nibbles just above your belly button.

“Yes, but lower,” you say.

“How about here?” Din kisses lower, near your hipbone.

“Din!” Your voice comes out as a whine and he chuckles, Maker, he’s such a tease.

You feel him shift his body down and even though you can’t see him, you know he’s looking right at your pussy. You wait in anticipation of his touch and then start to wonder, as he doesn’t move.

“Din?”

“Just enjoying the beautiful sight,” he says, his voice full of desire. He waits just a beat more and then you feel his tongue moving through your wet folds.

You shudder and let out a loud moan as he licks you. He’s moving so slow, like he’s trying to savor you, and it feels wonderful but it’s also so maddening.

“Please, please more,” you beg him, your voice shaky in your need.

Din is happy to oblige you and he lets his tongue begin to explore you in earnest. His hands are splayed on each of your thighs as his mouth moves over you. As he licks you higher, he holds your lips open with his thumbs so he can have better access to your clit. Each time he lets his tongue brush over the little pearl, you cry out. He keeps this up for a bit, tormenting you, until he finally latches his lips around it and sucks your clit into his mouth. You cry out his name so loudly when he does that and you thrust your hands into his hair gripping it tightly.

The sensation makes him groan and he’s pleased when you do it again. The more he suckles and tongues your clit, the harder you tremble against him and he has to push down on your hips to keep you still. He pulls away from you for just a moment and lets his thumb draw circles on your clit in place of his tongue.

“You’re the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, cyar’ika,” he tells you, “Wanted to do this for so long, so much better than I could have imagined.”

All you can do is moan in response because the mounting pleasure has robbed you of all logical thought. Din dives back into you, licking his tongue around your entrance before he pushes the muscle inside you. You cry out again and you grip his hair even tighter as your orgasm begins to close in on you. You feel yourself surging higher and higher, your thighs pushing tight around his head, until suddenly you are at the peak, feeling the most sublime pleasure as you gush on his tongue.

Din slows his movements as he lets you come down from your high, but he wants more. He’s waited so long to be here, he’s going to take his time until you’re begging him to stop. He lifts his mouth from you so that he can suck two of his fingers into his mouth, wetting them thoroughly.

“Is that really the first time you’ve done that?” You’ve regained enough composure to ask him.

“Yes,” he says, chuckling.

“If you get any better, you might kill me,” you tell him still sounding rather breathless.

“Well my darling, I’m not stopping yet,” Din replies as he pushes one long finger into you and drops his head back down to tongue your clit again. The high-pitched cry you let out makes him smile against you and he sees what he can do to hear it a second time. He can feel you flutter around his finger and he can’t believe how tight you are. He knows it’ll be easier for you to take his cock if he can make you come a couple more times on his fingers first. He slowly adds his second finger to you before he starts pumping them into you at a steady pace while licking and sucking your clit the entire time. He just barely crooks his fingers upward to brush the top of your walls when you’re coming apart again, shuddering so hard you almost buck him off you.

“Ahhh! Din, how’re you doing th-at, fe-feels so go-od,” you try your best to praise him but you can barely get the words out.

“Does it, cyar’ika? Does it feel good what I’m doing to you?” Din asks as he keeps his fingers working within your body. You clench around him hard.

“Talk to me,” you pant out, “like it so much.”

“You want me to talk to you, tell you how wonderful you feel around my fingers, how hot and wet you are?” Din replies and all you can do is moan in response.

“Mmm, you came so nice and hard for me before, gripped me so well, I can’t wait to feel you around my cock, going to feel fucking amazing.” The more Din talks dirty to you the more you cry out and thrust your hips against him.

“You really like this, don’t you, my fingers stretching you out, getting you nice and ready for me,” Din’s voice is so deep that the tone is doing just as much to pleasure you as his words do. “Tell you what, I’m going to keep this up and I’m going to suck on that beautiful little clit of yours until you come again for me.” And with that, his mouth returns to his favorite spot.

All you can do is cry out his name as the pleasure burns through your body. It’s so strong that you feel tears welling up in your eyes and you’re shaking all over from the sheer delight of his actions. It feels as if you are being tossed on a sea of pleasure, rising and falling with each wave, until finally you reach the largest wave of them all and it crashes over you. You lay there boneless and panting until Din finally stops and kisses his way back up your body before finally lying down next to you.

When you finally feel your breathing calm, you reach for him and bring him into a passionate kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. He moans his approval and rolls over on top of you.

“Wait,” you say breaking the kiss, “Don’t you want me to touch you? I’d love to taste you too.”

“I’d like that, cyar’ika, but some other time,” Din says, “Right now, I need to be inside you.”

In response, you widen your legs for him and draw them up to frame his hips, “I want that too, Din.”

 “Tell me again, please,” he says as you feel his cock glide over your folds spreading your wetness all over him.

“I want you, Din, I need to feel you inside me, I need you to make love to me,” you tell him, your voice full of emotion.

“Oh, ner cyar’ika,” Din says before he kisses you and begins to push into your narrow passage. Even with as wet and ready as you are for him, he wants to go slowly both so he can be sure not to hurt you and so that he can enjoy every moment of this first time.

You gasp into his mouth as he gradually stretches you open; you saw how big he is, but feeling him now, he seems enormous, but the sensation is amazing. He’s unhurried as he lets your body adjust to him and you feel nothing but pleasure as he continues to push forward. You know he’s been delaying his own pleasure this entire time that he’s been devoted to you and you marvel at his control now. Finally, he is completely sheathed within you and he breaks the kiss so he can let out a moan. He drops his forehead to yours and just stays there without moving. You let your inner muscles flutter around him as you enjoy the feel of him deep within you. He moans again.

“You little minx, do it again,” he says before kissing you anew. So you do, you tighten and release him almost like you’re trying to pull him deeper inside of you. You do it again and again until finally he starts to withdraw from you to begin thrusting. Din continues to move at a languid pace, allowing you to feel every delicious inch of him as he brushes your walls. Every time he reaches the deepest point inside you, you clench around him as tight as you can, in a vain effort to keep him there.

“Din, you’re so good, I love the way you feel,” you tell him.

“You’re perfect, cyar’ika, you’re so tight and hot and perfect,” he says and he starts to roll his hips into yours so that he strokes firmly on the most pleasurable part inside you as he pulls out. It makes you cry out his name.

“I love the way you say my name, my wonderful girl,” Din praises you and you wish you could compliment him back but he’s making you forget how to speak it’s so good, and all you can do is repeat his name.

Din reaches down to shift your legs higher on his hips and it changes your position so that he can thrust even deeper into you. He feels you lock your legs around his narrow waist and he adores it. He feels so close to you; it’s the most intimate sex has ever been for him. He wants to tell you how great it is but all he can get out are a string of random words of praise. He knows he’s getting close, but he wants you to come one more time before he does. He slides his hand between the two of you so he can reach your clit and he circles it roughly as he begins to piston into you at a fast pace.

“Yes, Din, yes, right there, don’t stop!” you call out to him. His hips are rocketing against yours now and you know you’re almost to another climax. You feel your thighs start to quake with your release and you know it will be a strong one.

“Please, please cyar’ika, come for me,” Din begs you and his voice urging you on is what you needed. You feel yourself explode and everything feels white hot as you clench hard around him. Din thrusts twice more before his own orgasm overtakes him and he spills himself deep within you, his cock pulsing. He shudders above you and his arms give out, making him sink his full weight into you. It feels wonderful and you wrap your arms around him to hold him tight.

When you can breathe again, you tell him, “Din, that was so amazing, I don’t even have the words, just incredible.”

“For me too,” he pants out as he is still catching his breath. You let him relax as you run your hands over his back gently. Eventually though, he picks up his head and kisses you so sweetly.

“I had no idea that anything could ever feel this wonderful,” Din tells you, and he kisses you again before rolling to the side and snuggling next to you with his head nestled in the crook of your neck and his hand resting on your stomach.

“So did I live up to the reputation you gave me as a lover?” Din asks, his voice flirty and teasing.

“Oh, you surpassed it,” you reply, “You are even better than the sex god, I described.”

“Ah, sex god, I like it,” he laughs, “Feel free to call me that any time.”

“Should I tell, Sigrid, to announce you as such tomorrow?” you laugh with him.

“Absolutely, may I present to you her Royal Highness and her Sex God.” He’s still chuckling and shaking the bed with his laughter. He calms down for a moment and he lets his hand trace lazy circles on your stomach before it comes to rest just below your belly button.

“So?” Din drawls, “Do you think you were blessed by Astrid?”

“I think modern science may have thwarted her in that,” you respond with a giggle.

“Hmm, maybe I should try again?” Din replies as he turns you to face him and pulls your leg over his hip. You’re surprised to feel that he’s already hard again as he grinds himself against you.

“I suppose you should,” you tell him encouragingly and you find his lips again in an adoring kiss.

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

Thank you again so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Go to Chapter 7: The Mando Games

Tag list: @grogusmum @wellofeternalthirst @idreamofboobear @theamuz @fangirlalexia @callmekane @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @theravenreads @nicotinebirds @boomtownboy @nova646 @wandering-storm-lost-shadow @becks-things @sleepwithacommunist @mackycat11 @som3thingcr3ative @punkdalek @pinkninja200 @s-unflowxr @ladyjenny19 @peppywitch @haley7242 @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @imthemandalornow​ @overtly-cuteashell 

[softcallofdutyimagines]

More Then a Woman | Frank Woods x Fem!Reader | Chapter 7 - Finale

Summary:

It all comes down to this. Will Frank be able to make things right?

Tags: Slow burn, fluff, age difference, angst

Tag requests: @direwolfspostsrandomshit

Chpt 1 | Chpt 2 | Chpt 3 | Chpt 4 | Chpt 5 | Chpt 6 Warnings: strong language, age difference, and references to depression like symptoms and past childhood trauma

Another hour passes. Another beer down.

The television drones on in the background while he stares right through it. Why is he even watching this? He hates TV.

He should be training today, maybe the gym or the firing range, but… He just doesn’t feel like it.

His stomach growls. He looks at the clock. He should get something to eat, but… He doesn’t feel like that either.

At last the cramping moves him to action, and sluggishly he gets up and wanders to the kitchen. He grabs his go-to as of late, a bag of chocolate chips for baking. His diet’s been such shit lately, and he knows it’s not helping. He hates that. And he loves it. Because right now he’ll do anything just to get even a flicker of feeling.

Good. Bad. He doesn’t care.

He just wants to feel.

It’s been a couple weeks since he last saw you, out back behind the CIA gym, and he’s been numb ever since. Mason’s been trying to bring him out of it all this time.

‘You did the right thing’, he says. ‘She’s just a kid, she doesn’t know what she’s doing’, and then, ‘If anything, you did her a favor. She doesn’t really want to get caught up like that with an old guy, right?’, he laughs.

He eats another handful of chocolate and looks down at himself. ‘She doesn’t want to...’ Is he really that repulsive? He runs a hand over his belly. It’s been feeling more rounded than usual.

Fuck.

For a moment, that same old burning, consuming flare of fury he’s so used to getting rises up. He grips the plastic bag so tightly, his knuckles turn white.

His discipline has been getting looser and his belt has been getting tighter, the polar fucking opposite of how things should be. His nostrils flare and lips draw back to reveal tightly clenched teeth, like a dog readying for an attack. Every muscle in his body tenses as he bores holes into nothing in particular. He starts to cock his arm back.

Throwing something will help him feel better.

Right?

He aims for the wall and winds up for an all star pitch, and then…

and then…

He can’t even muster the motivation for that.

As quickly as it came, the anger leaves, and as he lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, his entire body relaxes once more. What the fuck is wrong with him anyway?

What, mommy and daddy didn’t love him enough, so now he throws little tantrums whenever the fuck he feels like it? He mocks himself, feeling almost ashamed suddenly of all his outbursts, but when he thinks about it…

Yeah.

Maybe that...

He sighs, suddenly feeling extremely defeated and very alone. Maybe he shouldn't be surprised you left him. Everyone else who ever loved him did.

Woods drops the bag of chocolate from his limply hanging arm and watches the pieces scatter and roll all over the floor.

Whatever. He’ll eat something else.

This is how it’s been for weeks and this how it’ll be for the foreseeable future. He lazes around, completely numb to the outside world, grazing his pantry and doing anything to distract himself from his thoughts. If only any of it worked. Then at night he’ll lay awake well past midnight, until either regular exhaustion or exertion from shedding tears sends him to sleep.

But it wasn’t always like this.

After the first few days since he chased you off, he tried to make up for it.

He called.

He tried to see you at work.

He even sent you some fucking flowers and a letter.

Not a word back.

Well, aside from the ‘Get the fuck out of here, and don’t you fucking dare come back’ he got when he came to your office. After that one…

He hasn’t cried that hard over a woman in… Well… Ever.

And that’s what really gets to him, isn’t it? Just a woman. You’re just a fucking woman. There’s billions of others out there… And yet, he can’t manage to land even one, can he?

This message plays back in his mind over, and over, and over again.

Even now, as a slow stream of tears leak from his eyes to his pillowcase. He looks over just a few inches away to the empty half of his bed. Frank sniffs and swipes at his nose before gently plopping his hand on the pillow beside his. The fabric is icy cold against his skin.

You know, Alex told him once that he’ll lay in his wife's spot on the bed to warm up the sheets for her at night.

She hates the cold, and Alaskan nights are no joke. Would you like that? He wonders. He heard once that women are always fucking cold. He’d warm up your sheets for you, you know. Or maybe, you’d like a blanket? He’d get you one. A nice one! Fresh and new, not any of the tattered shit he keeps in his linen closet.

Or, maybe, you’d like it more if he just… Held you? He could keep you warm all by himself if you wanted him to. Would you even like him to?

Would that make you happy?

Would he make you happy?

A fresh round of tears breaks over him.

He closes his eyes and curls in on himself as he lets the sobs take over him. Damn it, he promised himself he wouldn’t do this again… He thinks about you far too much. All the time, really. And where does it get him? Somewhere about like he is now, he supposes.

He stews in his own wretchedness like this for quite some time, and it’s not until a few days later that anything changes.

Mason pounds on the door of the dingy little house, “Frank?”, he calls, “Frank, open up you bastard, I know you’re in there!”

Truthfully, he’s only in town on some work related business, but… He can’t just stand by and let his friend suffer like this.

So, he waits and waits, and pounds and pounds until he's sure the door is about to come off the hinges. Mason cups his hands to the crack of the door, shouting into it as loud as he dare, “I’m not leaving until you come out here asshole!”

At last, a quiet voice comes from the other side, “What do you want?”

For a moment, Mason is rather dumbfounded. Never before has he ever heard his friend sound so soulless. So… broken. He shakes his head, and pulls himself out of it, “Frank will you open up? I’m here to check on you man!”

Woods sighs, “Don’t waste your time”, the voice trails off as though he’s walking away.

“Hey!”, Mason pounds on the door again, “Son of a bitch, get back here!”

The door swings open abruptly, and Mason nearly falls over as the door’s taken out from him. He stumbles a moment, then catches himself as he stands up straight.

Mason locks eyes with his old friend, and Woods says nothing. Alex takes in the sight of him. His stubble is out of control, the bags under his eyes are dark and purple, and the undershirt he’s wearing could’ve used a wash about a week ago.

“Jesus…You look like shit”

“Thanks”, Woods replies flatly, “Now go away”

He makes to close the door, but Mason stops him, “Wait wait wait… Ok, I’m sorry, I just… Wow, um… Can I come in at least? Let’s talk about this”, Alex motions to Woods in his entirety.

“Do I have a choice?”

Mason pushes the door all the way open, letting himself in and taking his friend by the shoulders as he leads him further into the house, “No, we’re having a fucking intervention”

He leads him to the living room and clears a pile of clothes and trash off the cushions so they can sit down. Alex commands his friend to take a seat, then follows suit. Once they’re both settled, Mason grows serious but maintains a cautious, sympathetic veneer.

Mason rubs his hands together and gives it to him straight, “Look, I know you feel like you fucked up. I know you’re feeling lonely and it’s got you in the dumps. But… Come on man, look what’s been going on with you!”, He gestures to the living space around them.

Dirty laundry and neglected trash sit in little piles all around in a room that smells of old must with a faint, queasy scent of booze. “This is no way to live, buddy!”

Frank says nothing. Instead, he sits and listens without even attempting to make eye contact, like a child receiving a tiresome lecture.

Alex grits his teeth and tries to keep his temper in check. “So… What I’m trying to say is…. Maybe you need to get out of here, you know? Go to a game, take a vacation, something!”, he scoots a bit closer, taking on a more personal tone with his old friend, “I don’t want to see you destroy yourself like this Frank…”

Woods recoils at that, snapping to life as though he’d just now entered the conversation, “I’m not! I just… I need some time to get over this, alright!”

Mason casts an exaggeratedly doubtful look at the other man. Frank jumps to defend himself once more, but Alex cuts him off, “Ok ok! How about this, let’s you and me go out for a little bit huh? Have some beers, some guy time! I just want you to get out of this place for a little while, is that so bad?”

Frank grumbles a bit, but somewhere in there is an agreement. Mason cheers, "That's the spirit!", and drags his friend upstairs to clean up. He pushes him off to shave and shower before going downstairs to help himself to the kitchen.

It takes far longer than he anticipated, but Alex doesn’t go up to pressure the old Sargent even once. At last, the staircase creaks softly as Woods descends. He looks like a new man. Clean clothes, shaped up beard, and a gentle wafting of clean, musky shampoo emanating from him.

Woods walks up without much fanfare for himself, but Alex offers him a smile and a firm pat on the back, “There, now isn’t that better? You look great!”

Frank grunts and perhaps even mutters a thank you, but Mason is too busy trying to keep the momentum up. Once more, he drags his friend along and out to the car. The sun is starting to set and options for places to go are beginning to dwindle. Woods wonders where they’re going, and yet as the streets race by, he finds himself caring less and less.

By the time the car comes to a stop, he’s nearly fallen asleep.

Mason turns off the engine and shakes him awake, “Hey don’t fall asleep on me now, we’re just getting started!”

Woods snaps awake, but has to shield his eyes immediately. It seems impossibly bright out considering how late it is. He blinks a few times and rubs his eyes. Once they're fully adjusted, he finds that what he sees does nearly nothing to alleviate his confusion.

Before him stands the front of a pulsating night club. Blue and purple neon blaze in the dusky twilight. He can only imagine how they must look in the dead of night. A pounding beat comes from somewhere within, no doubt the drum track to some popular, modern song. Small clusters of younger people and a handful of adults hang around the doors pregaming for what they must be anticipating to be a long, wild night.

The pair get out of the car, but Woods is bewildered all the while. When Alex finally comes around to him, he can’t keep silent any longer, “What the fuck did you bring me here for?”

Mason seems almost taken aback, “For some fun? Come on, I know this isn’t really your scene but maybe that’s exactly what you need! Something new and fun, right?”, he doesn’t wait for a response, instead he pushes his friend along as they head towards the entrance.

The air seems thick and hazy around him, a fact only highlighted by the glowing miasma created by the neon interior. If Alex wasn’t pulling him along, he’s sure he’d get lost.

Alex takes him over to a table buried back in the corner. They take a seat and despite being right across from each other, Mason nearly has to shout to be heard over all the noise, “Want a drink?”

Woods thinks about it for a moment, still taking in the environment as he does so. He’s trying to find the bar, and when he does he figures it’s impossible to miss. A huge back wall of glass bottles, all lit up by a halo of purple neon and cool fluorescent lights stands bright as a beacon behind a solid bar top and array of stools and customers.

“Sure, I can get my own”

“Great! Hey, grab my usual would ya? I’m gonna take a leak real quick”, he points over his shoulder and excuses himself as he makes for the restrooms.

This… is not at all what he wanted.

Suddenly, Woods feels trapped and alone again, no better than he was back in his own home. Except now he’s surrounded by the heat, noise, and stench of over a hundred other people.

The lights feel heavy and blinding, the pulsating pop music, deafening. He trudges up to the bar slowly yet surely, but with every step he comes closer to committing to his plan of escaping back to Alex’s car.

He never should’ve went along with this… he was just fine at home, damn it.

Lost in his thoughts and half blinded by the smoke and lights, he runs smack into another person. With a dampened thud, they hit the ground hard. Wood swears under his breath and figures he can at least offer a hand. He bends down to help up the fallen individual, only to see…

You.

Suddenly, it’s as if all the haze and fog has cleared from his eyes. He can see you clear as day down here, and the noise and smells of the crowd all fade away. A soft blue glow highlights your features, and an electric magenta bounces off your hair. The sparkling, sequined little dress you wear glitters in the halo of light descending around you, and a thousand flecks of light reflect back onto his worn, tired face.

Woods' hand hangs in mid air, half way through it’s journey to assist you. He whispers your name, quietly and fondly, as though he never thought he’d see you again.

For the first time in what must have been days, a smile breaks free from his stern glower.

But all you see is the asshole who teased you along for weeks, only to give you the highest embarrassment by sending you off like a misbehaving child after you were at your most vulnerable with him.

You were ready to give him your very body, and he only felt up what he wanted and sent you off.

With a sneer, you slap his hand away and hop up on your own. You don’t even bother to spare him a word. Instead, you stare daggers into him and walk off.

For a moment. For a second time… He watches you go.

He should let you walk away.

After what he did, you deserve at least the privacy. And that’s aside from the fact that you’re clearly pissed.

But he can’t. Not again.

“Hey, wait!”, he dashes after you, shoving his way through the crowd. A little too roughly, he grabs your upper arm and spins you around. You yank yourself free from his grip and glare right through him. Even through all the rage…

You look so beautiful in this light.

“I… I- uh. Hey”

“Hey?”, your blood is boiling. Is that all he has to say for himself?

The venom in your voice makes him recoil, shrinking back into himself. But still… “I uh, I just… H-how are you… I didn’t think you’d be in a place like this, heh…”

Out of pure manners, you respond, “Fine. What are you doing here?”, you cross your arms, defensive, but genuinely curious.

Woods looks over his shoulder then all round, searching for any sign of Mason. Nothing. He snaps his attention back to you, trying to come up with any reason at all to explain himself. Frank stutters for an answer, but you end your indulgent lapse before he can say anything coherent and turn to walk away.

“Wait! I… I-I miss you...”

You whip around, seething with anger. Then, very seriously, you ask, “Are you following me?”

“What? No! Fuck no! I just… I miss you, that’s all!”

You scoff, “Well maybe you should’ve fucking thought of that first”

“...You’re right”

That stops you dead. This is nothing like the Woods you know… You can’t recall a single time he’s had the humility, let alone the balls, to admit that he’s wrong.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah…”, he sighs, and even in the darkness of the club you can see a glimpse of just how much pain he’s in, “Look… I shouldn’t have done that, back there behind the gym. You trusted me and I fucked it up. I know. It’s just… I was scared”

A biting edge creeps back into your voice. You don’t buy that. “Scared? Of what, getting caught?”

“What? No! I was scared… that I was taking advantage of you, alright?”

You blink, and suddenly all the rage leaves you, as though the hot air was deflated right out of you. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Well I mean… You know… Y-you’re just a kid, and I’m… not. I just- It didn’t feel right. Hell, I didn’t even get a chance to ask if you really wanted all that, I just… went for it”

You take a little step closer, your hard gaze softening just a touch, “Well… It’s not like I was saying no”, you chuckle

“Yeah, but that’s not the fucking same, you know?”

You look away, “Yeah…”

“So… Anyway… I’m sorry, alright?”

At last, you turn back and smile at him, “Alright. I forgive you, and… thanks. For saying that”

Woods nods and accepts your thanks. The two of you share a little smile and a short pause of uncertain silence until he breaks the silence, “So… What now?”

You look him up and down. He’s wearing jeans and a tightly fitting flannel, a stark contrast to all the trendy, flashy fashion of the rest of the clubbers, and yet it’s so… him. You trace a finger down his limp, tattooed arm, stopping at his fingers to intertwine them with yours.

“How about a dance?”, you tug his hand gently, then nod towards the dance floor.

A feeling like euphoria washes over him, and time seems slow as he floats along while you tug him through the crowd. Somewhere in the beautiful, prismatic show of lights, he hears himself agree. You lead him to a cramped, but vacant spot on the glowing dance floor and turn an ear to the music, “Hey, I love this song…”

Woods perks up to listen, just in time to catch the start of More Than A Woman, muffled slightly by all the noise and bustle of the crowd.

It’s like it’s playing from within a dream.

You rest your hands on his chest, letting them slide down so that the heels of your palms sit where the curve of his stomach begins to swell out. Frank has his hands on your waist, swaying in time with you slowly to the music. He clears his throat and looks away from your sparkling, gorgeous eyes, a nervous blush creeping up his neck.

He knows you’ve been over this before, but… “Yeah, uh… so, you know, I’ve been thinking I should lose some weight... You know, while you’ve been… gone”, he moves your hands up from his belly to clasp behind his neck.

You quirk up your brow, a confused smile on your lips, “Why?”

“Uh, I don’t know… I think it makes me look old, I guess”

You laugh and come a little closer, your bodies nearly touching, “Well, if it means anything... I don’t think so”, You inch up and kiss his cheek, bringing one hand down to rest on his softened pect. He huffs a nervous laugh and masks the flattered embarrassment with a timid smile as he covers your hand with his, holding it there just a little while more.

He's never forgotten how amazing your touch alone feels.

He clears his throat and re-establishes eye contact. A whole kaleidoscope of color plays inside your eyes. He could get lost in them for the rest of his life. “You uh… wow. You- you look beautiful tonight...”, he steals a quick glance as your little, sparkly dress and the neon rainbow refracting off the thousands of tiny sequins, “Nearly gave this old man a heart attack when I first saw you”, he laughs.

“Oh?”, you smirk and lead him into a turn, “ In that case, you should see me take it off”

His heart pounds underneath your palm, but his face looks frozen with surprise. He doesn’t hear women say that kind of stuff to him often…

“D-do you… Do you mean that?”

“Well, I mean… Maybe after this, I’d love t-”

“No, not that. I mean… Me. D-do you really feel that way about me?”

You stop dancing for a moment.

His words cut deeply with the quiver of hope they carry, as though it had never crossed his mind that someone would want to be with him.

“Of course I do. But… I want you more then just for that you know”, you chuckle.

His cheeks go pink, “Oh. Damn, so you like that kind of st-?”

You place a single finger to his lips, shushing him. “I meant… I love you”

Your words echo back to him in slow motion, as though reality and time itself are breaking all around him to unveil a haven of euphoria. His heart is beating in his ears, and yet it sounds slow and calm, just like the wild crowd and the blaring music all around him.

Everything grows quieter and softer until it all fades away, leaving behind just you and him.

He wracks his brain, trying to remember the last time he heard those words, only to come up empty handed. It’s been so long… He can’t even remember.

Frank looks back at you, a little neon angel clinging to his beat up old shirt. Gorgeous. That’s all he can think of when he sees you. He almost feels like he shouldn't even have the privilege to do so. You bat long lashes up at him and a slow smile draws across your soft, glossy lips.

More than a woman…

Slowly, you come up to meet your lips to his. You’ve kissed before, but this… It feels like the first kiss of his entire life.

He presses back gently, sucking softly as he draws you close. You smell like dark cherry and amber, some combination of perfume and lip gloss. The faint smell of whisky and musk radiating off of him mingles with the divine scent of you.

He can taste it all on his tongue, even as he slides it over to flick across yours.

More than a woman to me…

At long last you part, breathing softly as your eyes drift up to meet one another's. And when he looks down into those deep, glittering pools, he wonders how he never saw all the love and warmth they hold for him. The love they always had.

“I love you too…”, he whispers, tears stinging at his eyes and voice, before he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

And now? The love they always will.

[i-am-infinite]

Guilt (Part 1): The Rescue

(Din Djarin x ForceSensitive!Fem!Reader)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Slight Chpt 12 and 13 spoilers. Read at your own risk.

Description: Moff Gideon has found someone else to run his experiments on and word gets back to Din. Will he take his son far away and try and find somewhere safe? Or will the guilt of an innocent being put in his son’s place eat away at him? (No Y/N or ___ used)

Word Count: Slightly over 4K

Warnings: Mentions of blood and needles. Broken glass. Fainting. Blood loss. Canon type violence. Possible bad writing (first fic pls go easy on me). If I’m missing anything please let me know, I’ve never done one of these before. 

A/N: This is my first fanfic I’ve written so it might be really bad but I couldn’t get the idea out of my head so here it is. I also made up a planet/system and don’t know if star wars has alarm clocks but i wrote it in anyway. I also wrote this in Word first and then realized I couldn’t copy it over so I tried my best to type it over in here. 

Normal. That is what was used to describe your life. Nothing out of the ordinary. Life wasn’t boring per se, but it definitely wasn’t compelling enough for your tastes. Studying to be a healer help keep it somewhat interesting but not enough. 

Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Crust littered eyes creak open as your face unsticks from the textbook scattered across the desk. Bzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzz. Your stiff neck cracks as you finally sit up. Fell asleep studying again. You loved learning about healing, you really did. But the long nights and barely sleeping was enough to make your head explode. Looking over at the clock with bright red numbers blinking at you. 8:15. 

8:15! I’m late! You think as you force yourself awake. No not again! Being a student means you need to do hands on hours down at the nearest medcenter. All the late night studying also means that you oversleep most days. Grabbing your work bag filled with a change of clothes, in preparation of these events, you run out the door.

Your feet hit the wet cobble stones as it echos through your little part of the city. Vendors lining up the street ready to start their days. Passing the shop you went to yesterday, your mind too preoccupied to notice that it’s empty today. You know that theres is a faster route to the medcenter, but is it a path you really want to take today? Dark and windy path that you can barely see five feet in front of you on mornings like this. Too foggy and muggy for your liking. You’d rather stick to the main road where there’s people, where if anything were to happen, people would see, they would know. Regardless, it shaves fifteen minutes off your commute. You loathe having to be late for another shift. Making the sharp turn in between tow booths, you pace quickens to get through as quickly as you can. While not having much visibility, you swear you can see a pair of eyes in the dark. Has to just be my imagination, you convince yourself, I just need to keep going. It’ll be fine. 

Footsteps echo behind you. Hands grab your shoulders. A scream rises in your throat, but no sound comes out. Everything goes dark when you feel something hit the side of your head. 

.

Sigh. “Grogu get back in your seat.” The little baby waddles down off the controls and into his father’s lap. “Not what I meant,” Din grumbles with a smile hidden under his helmet. He grabs Grogu by his little robe and places him in the seat to his right and tells him to buckle up as a holo comes through from Greef Karga. 

“Mando, we’ve just got word that Moff Gideon might have been seen in the Braic system. It looks like they found a substitute for the baby for the time being. I would use this time to go find a hide-out and lay low. He could still come back for the little one. Be well,”

Din goes to start the ship and find coordinates to stay out of trouble for a while when he hears the baby whine. Looking back at his adoptive child, all Din can see is Grogu, then a nameless kid, lying unconscious on a metal table, trapped underneath a contraption. Din starts breathing heavy and feeling sick that he ever gave his son up to those Imps. All he can hear is the beeping of the machine he’s hooked up to. Anger boiling back to the surface as he hears himself yell at the doctor all over again in his memories. No, he tells himself, He’s here with me. He’s fine. He’s safe. He shakes himself out of it and goes to fly the Razor Crest off planet. 

Before he even gets off the planet, all Din can think about is that innocent person in his son’s place. They were going to kill Grogu, just for his blood for their experiments. Din can’t bring the kid anywhere near those people, he can’t risk losing his family, not when both of them have formed such attachments to each other. But he can’t stop thinking of this person who is in the that position now. He should’ve made sure Gideon was dead. Because of that now more people are going to get hurt. 

Without thinking he turns on his holo already asking, “Where is he taking them?”

. 

Feeling groggy with heavy eyes, you are able to open them just a bit to a blinding light. Reluctantly closing them again, you lift your arm to rub your eyes, but only they don’t move. What? The rest of your senses start coming back and you can feel the cool metal against your back, the same metal wrapped around your wrists and your ankles attached to the table. Finally bracing the light and opening your eyes, lifting your head slightly off the table and oh no the room is spinning now. There is an IV in your arm drawing your blood out into some odd machine, explaining the dizziness. Second time in two days you’ve had to deal with your own blood. 

Walking through the shops on your one day off, you pick up a flower hair pin. The glasswork is so intricate and entrancing, you can’t help but turn it over and over in your hands. A pearl bead sitting in the center of iridescent gray and white petals. Placing it back in its place, your had scrapes against another glass design that is not yet finished, slashing open your palm. “Oh, dear let me help you with that,” the lady running the stand says. She looks you with her white hair barely covering her forehead. Tattoos liter her arms. A design peaks your interest as you swear you know but can’t quite place. 

“It’s fine, I can take care of it myself,” you state already inspecting your hand. No shards in it so thats good. 

“Oh no I insist. It happened at my booth, let me help clean it,” she declares taking your hand in her own. It feels like she squeezes the wound causing you to wince in pain slightly. Knowing she should just be cleaning it and wrapping it, you’re a little confused. Maybe she just doesn’t know how to tend to these sort of things, not wanted to embarrass her at her stand, you keep quiet. She finally gets a clean rag to help blot away at the blood on your hand. You didn’t think anything of it at the time, but it appears she has put it in a bag to the side. 

“I don’t have any gauze to help wrap it up,” the stand lady says. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I have plenty of my own,” you mention, “It will be fine until I make it back to my place.” Smiling you walk away. Without looking, you can feel her move the piece you cut your hand on into the bag. Must just be because it’s a dangerous piece, you think, not knowing there’s still some of your blood on it too. 

Closing your eyes again, you try to wonder why that is so significant to you right now. It was a harmless thing in passing, so why is it at the forefront of your mind? You are strapped to a table and all you can think about is that little cut you got the day prior. If your head didn’t feel like it was a spinner top right now, you would have laughed. Opening your eyes again you see men all in white armor and helmets guarding the door to your room, while a man in a white coat is working on the machine where your IV is attached. I thought the empire was dead. The same symbol that keeps going through your mind is the same one sewn into the man’s white coat. Your breathing gets shallower as you feel the panic rise in your chest. I’m never getting out of here, you realize as your vision becomes black once again. 

. 

You’re losing a lot of blood. You know that. You can feel it when noise wakes you up and your eyelids feel like lead. All the noise is muffled, as if you’re underwater. Frankly it feels like you are. It would be so easy to let the waves of darkness just wash over you right now, to let the water take you under. No, you can’t give up the fight and drown into unconsciousness just yet. You force yourself to stay awake. 

Barely getting your eyes open, bright red lights flood your vision. You imagine you’re still in bed, or at least asleep at your desk, with the alarm clock blaring, not here with blaster fire. Wait, blaster fire? You attempt to turn your head to the side to look, or to dodge, you aren’t to sure in your current state. The fast action causes you to feel like you’re spinning, or it might be the room, either way your eyes can’t focus on what is going on. Closing your eyes again to make it stop, you hear voices surrounding you. They sound so far away at the moment but finally, after what feels like ages, one voice sounds clearer. 

“Please help us. Help us get out of here. Her m-counts aren’t nearly as high as the child’s. They’re demanding more blood. She’s already lost 2 liters, I don’t know how much longer she can last.”

Child? They wanted to do this to a child? You’d choke down a sob if you could just thinking of that poor baby. What did he even say about what-counts? What the hell are those? All these questions are making your head spin more and more. Taking most of your energy to open your eyes, you’re met with a chrome stormtrooper trying to unbind you. Wait no, not a stormtrooper. You’ve heard stories about him and his people. What were they called? For the life of you, you can’t remember right now. 

“You’re going to need help getting her out of here,” you realize that the man in the whit coat was the one who spoke before and is now pleading with the metal man, “Please Mandalorian take me with you and I’ll help you get her out of here.” 

That’s it. He’s a Mandalorian. He gets your wrists free as the doctor takes the IV out. Pushing off the table to sit up, the world starts spinning again. You don’t even realize you’re about to hit the table again until the Mandalorian grabs your shoulders to keep you semi-upright. You hear some sort of static come from his helmet. “Fine.” he grumbles, “help me get her out of this thing.” 

With a flip of a switch, the rest of your body is free from restraints. Eager to get out of there, you swing your legs over the edge of the table, hands finding the arms of the Mandalorian with his hands still on your shoulders. Nauseous and woozy, you try to use the cold metal of his pauldron to ground yourself, to get the room to stop spinning. He can see you start to sway and wraps his arms around your waist as he lowers you from the table. Your feet hit the floor and black dots start to cloud your vision. Blood pounding in your ears trying to tell you to stop and lie back down. Muffled voices come from beside you again as you feel another arm wrap around you from the other side. Your feet dragging against the floor as both men on either side of you go towards the door. 

You feel the heavily armored man to your left let go. Eyes that are still fuzzy and unfocused sort of see him peak out the door with his blaster drawn. He leaves the room and all that can be heard is the pew pew pew of blaster fire. Vision start to come back the tiniest bit, you can see him standing in the door way waving his hand as to say Come on. 

The three of you hurry as fast as you can down the corridor to get to an exit. Lots of twists and turns, just for you all to come up at a dead end. So much for rescuing, you think to yourself as the doctor still holding you up, leans you up against a pillar as the two of them survey the situation. More of the Mandalorian assessing the situation and the doctor just frantically pacing back and forth. 

Sitting down now that the adrenaline of being kidnapped and “rescued” die down, you feel your breathing getting shallower and harder to breath. Eyelids getting heavy again. You just want to lay down and go to sleep, hoping that will fix things. Starting your descent from your upright position to close your eyes, two hands grab your shoulders and jerk you up. It takes a second to realize this modulated voice was talking you you. “Hey, you got to stay with me now,” he pleads, one hand going to the side of your face. Pain spreads across your features due to being struck there earlier, a bruise starting to form in its place. Pulling his hand away like seeing the your face contorted burned him, he continues, “I’m going to get you out of here, you just have to stay awake.” You open your mouth to speak, but your throat feels like it’s filled with sand from Tattooine, so you just weakly nod your head yes. “Okay good,” the shiny man says after letting out a deep breath. 

Still holding your shoulders, he helps you stand up and tells the doctor to take you and go further down the hall. Taking something small and circular out of his belt and placing it on the far wall, he speed walks back toward you two. It starts blinking red as his arms come and cage both of you in. Peeking over his shoulder, you see the wall disappear. Well explode, but one second ago it was there and now it’s not. When the explosion first rings in your ears, you reflexively reach out for the Mandalorian’s arm and feel him tense under your touch. 

When he deems it safe to move again, letting go of his arm, he hops over the rubble to the outside world, blaster drawn. Looking out you think it looks like a desert, but one you’ve never seen before. You have no idea where you are, even what planet you are on. You eyes go to where the chrome man is stalking towards. It seems he found two speeder bikes that the troopers use, sans the troopers. Your feet hit the gravel and you realize you aren’t wearing shoes anymore. How long was I out? You begin to question when you see a stormtrooper take aim at your rescuer. Right when he pulls the trigger, you reach your hand out and scream, “NO!” 

You could’ve sworn it was going to hit him. It should’ve hit him. But at the last second it bent and went in another direction. You knew stormtroopers were bad shots, but nothing like that has ever happened. The Mandalorian whips around at your scream and shoots the trooper down. He goes back to what he originally planned to do, but not without turning to you. You see his chest plate heave up and down a few times before turning back around. After a beat, the only sound you can hear is the Mandalorian starting up the speeders and your heartbeat pounding in your ears. The doctor helps guide you to the bikes and as you’re about to get on behind him, the Mandalorian picks you up bridal style and sits on his own respective bike. You make a noise of discontent at the sudden action and are then seated in front of him, yet again caged in by his arms with your legs draped over one of his. You can hear him breathing through the modulator as he states, “Just in case you pass out again. Can’t have you falling off the back of the bike.” You go to adjust how you are sitting when he takes off. 

Gasping in shock, you hug your arms around his neck with you head in his cowl as you take panicked breaths. His hand touches your back as you hear him shout over the noise of the engines, “Put your legs around me, you’re slipping off.” He holds your waist as you sling your right leg around and hook it with your left one behind his back. Not the position you thought you’d end up in as a blush creeps up on your face, but neither the less here you are. His hand lets go of your waist and back to the handlebars as he steers. 

Suddenly getting the feeling like you’re being followed, you say into his neck cowl, “Go left!” You don’t know why, but you just get a gut feeling to go that way. He follows your lead, not without a brief hesitation. The doctor follows on his speeder in the same direction. Finally looking up you see two stormtroopers in the distance. I wish their speeders would just stop or something, you plead with yourself and you think back to what happened with the blaster. Testing the waters, you unhook one of your hands from Mando’s neck and hold it out and... nothing. Okay focus, you close your eyes and picture their speeders stopping, or malfunctioning, or anything at this point. 

The sound of a crash comes ringing into your ears. Opening your eyes, you can see the troopers flip over their handlebars as if their engines just died. You slightly chuckle to yourself as your eyelids feel heavy again. You try to get them to stay open, but sleep just feels so much better at the moment. And with that, you’re out like a light. 

. 

Din feels you go limp against him. His arm once again going to grab you by your waist to keep you in place. He wills his speeder to go faster, to get back to the Razor Crest sooner as he’s panicking thinking he somehow made the situation worse. He exposed you on the bike by having you sit like this. Your arms, legs, and head were all exposed to possible blaster fire. Have you been hit? He heard a crash but couldn’t look back without moving you more, risking leaving you more unprotected. His blame for himself spirals as his grip on you grows tighter. He can’t explain why he’s so distraught over a stranger, but still every time he blinks, he swears he sees back on that table. The next time he swears he sees his son on that very table again. First he gave the kid up to those people, now he didn’t finish Gideon off and let you, an innocent stranger who he is now clutching onto for dear life, get in the crossfire. Too many people have gotten hurt because of this. Because of him. He needs to make it right. 

Finally Din and Dr. Pershing arrive at the Razor Crest where Din is already lowering the hatch and carrying you in. Kicking some crates together, he gently lowers you down onto this makeshift bed. He uses his thermal setting to see your body temperature, to see how you are recovering from the blood loss. He isn’t thrilled to see it still low, you were getting your energy back slowly before, along with more body heat, bit not enough to Din’s liking. Turning his helmet to Pershing, the doctor says, “She’s going to need more blood.” Din, already standing ready to run out and get some, not even knowing where or how to do  that, is stopped by Pershing telling him that he’ll go get it, that it would look less suspicious. Agreeing, Din sits by your side while using his comm-link to tell Greef that he could bring Grogu back to the ship. How Din always finds someone to babysit still surprises him. 

. 

You wake up with a start. Eyes not yet adjusted to the lights overhead. Looking down you can see an IV in your arm again. Now towards the side, you can see the same doctor from before asleep up against a wall. Please tell me it wasn’t a dream, tears well up in your eyes as you think you’ve made the whole thing up to cope. It wasn’t until you felt your hand come to wipe away your watery eyes that you realized it just might not be a dream. The IV isn’t taking blood this time, it’s giving it. 

Finally looking around, you realize you’re on a ship that feels like it’s moving. Confused by this, you try and sit up. Not nearly as dizzy as before, you slowly swing your legs off the wooden crates you’re lying on. Noticing your still barefoot as a chill gets sent up to your spine by the cold metal floor, you grab your IV bag off what appears to be just a hook poorly attached to the ceiling. You venture around the small area of the ship, noticing there isn’t a lot besides these boxes and what appears to be two storage type of units. You don’t even tempt to look in, too intrusive. You do however see a ladder going higher up on the ship. Taking the IV out and ripping a piece of your shirt off to wrap around your arm for pressure, so you can use both hands to climb, you start your ascent up. 

Once you finally reach the top, you hear cooing? Didn’t that doctor say something about a child earlier? Looking forward into the cockpit, you see your savior flying while looking to his right at one of the co-pilot chairs. Clearing your throat to get his attention, two little eyes peer at you from the seat. A bright smile appears on this little green things face and you can’t help but stifle a laugh because its ears are the size of his body. 

Distracted by this cute baby, you don’t notice the way the Mandalorian swivels his chair to face you. Finally looking at the man who saved you today, your breath hitches. You don’t know how to thank him for what he did, so you sort of just stand and stare for a second. He stands up and lightly grabs your arm with your homemade bandage on it. Tilting his helmet to the side you hear static coming from it. Did he just sigh at you? “You were supposed to keep it in your arm,” he finally states, with a tinge of annoyance. 

Eyes not wanting to meet the T of his visor, you direct your gaze to the ground. “ I jus- I-,” you stammer, not able to find the right words. “Thank you.” It comes out more hushed than you’d like, but he still hears you. He just gives you a slight nod before releasing his arm and heading back to his seat. All your muscles turn to stone as you stand there not knowing if you should leave or not, until he cocks his head towards the seat to his left. On shaky legs you find your way to the seat. Before even sitting down fully, the little green child is already trying to get into your lap. Giggling to yourself you let him up onto your lap. 

Once you do the strangest thing happens. You can feel what he’s thinking, his emotions, his past. How he was trained with the special abilities, much like the ones you just displayed before. How he was scared and in hiding until the man sitting in front of you found him. How he thinks of him as a father, his dad. Your chest tightens at that one. Still confused as to why the same people who wanted this child, Grogu, for his powers, also wanted you, you pull him to your chest to comfort you both. You finally speak up again and ask, “Did they want me because I might have the same abilities as this one?” You meant it to sound strong, but it just came out sounding weak. 

Without looking at you, the Mandalorian replies shortly after a pause, “Yes.” You swore you can see his grip tighten on the ships steering as he says that. Turning to the two of you finally, he says in the sincerest voice you’ve heard out of him, “They wont get to either of you again. I can promise you that.” Your chest swells at this statement and Grogu looks up at you with a smile as if he felt the way your heart fluttered. You wish you were the one wearing the helmet right now because you can feel your cheeks heat up. To ease the situation in the best way you can, awkwardly, you clear your throat before asking, “So where are we headed now?”

Swiveling back in his chair to hit a few buttons, you’re confused not knowing what they are supposed to do until he pulls up a map and points a place out. He tells you that he’s going to drop off Dr. Pershing at one of the squiggles you see and then try and figure it out from there. “So, I guess thats where I get off too?” You meant it to come out more as a statement than a question, but after what you just went through, you’d rather not be left to fend for youself. 

“If that’s what you want,” he finally utters after a while. “ But they’re not going to stop coming after you. Either of you. It might be safer for you to stay here with me, us.” The last part comes out so quiet, it’s almost as if he didn’t want you to hear, out of fear of your response. 

Trying to not answer too quickly, you take a deep breath and finally say, “Yes. I’d like that a lot.” With a curt nod, he turns back around. Warmth fills your chest yet again at this stranger’s kindness. It’s just because I have the same abilities as his child, you try to convince yourself. But deep down you’re hoping it’s more than that. The child in your lap grips your fingers tightly and coos, as if he’s trying to tell you your hopes might not be too far off. 

Oh, it’s going to be an interesting adventure with these two, you smile to yourself. 

[theanimalsarecalling]

This is just a minor speculation, and maybe nobody's interested in this detail but me, but who are Aunt and Uncle? They are mentioned three times in CDTH.

First,

There was an aunt an uncle in New York, but even as children the brothers had understood these were pet names, not true titles. (chpt 15)

Second, Ronan remembers Uncle when tried to return to the fairy market

In the back of his head was a bit of advice Uncle used to say. If you lost things, you should retrace your steps until you last had them. He'd been a great treasure trove of these clickable bits of potpourri-scented wisdom . . . He wondered what had happened to him and Aunt. As a kid he'd never thought to ask for their real names. (chpt 26)

Third, Ronan comes across a picture of them while looking at old photographs.

He saw his mother, his father, aunt and uncle (he pulled that one out for further study), his brothers when much younger, a variety of animals and musical instruments. (chpt 33)

They aren't mentioned at all in MI. At first glance, they seem like a minor detail that just got dropped. But in true Chekhov's gun fashion, I suspect they'll be significant in the finale.

Some interesting details though:

1. Neither Declan nor Matthew mentions them. Do they not recall them, or are they just not important to them?

2. Ronan has no idea what happened to them. Since they were the only thing close to extended family the Lynches had, this seems odd. Wouldn't Ronan at least know if they died, or moved back to Ireland or something?

3. It's strange Ronan doesn't know their names. Were their names never mentioned at all? I know Ronan can be kind of self-focused, but this is just odd. Combined with the second point, this makes Aunt and Uncle seem . . . Otherworldly.

4. Aunt and Uncle were obviously gone by the time Niall created his will. Otherwise, the boys would probably have been given into their care, instead of burdening Declan with everything. They're never mentioned in TRC.

5. The bit of advice he gave Ronan about retracing his steps to find something lost seems especially applicable now, since Ronan has now lost Adam, his brothers, and Hennessy. A bit of foreshadowing maybe?

6. All of the "clickable bits of advice" (there are more listed than I typed) seem a lot like folk version equivalents of "Declanisms." They also seem very apropos to Ronan's current life.

Anyhow, just speculating.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Seraph of Academia chpt.4

Return to File

Recovery date: March 24st, 2020

Description: Our favorite ONS teens training to be heroes! Will Yuu survive Guren's class? Will Yuu confess to Mika? And most importantly will the become heroes?

Notes: Unfortunately this series of entries was corrupted and recovery is unlikely, apologies for the inconvenience. This is an abandoned work

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7---Quirk List

Word count: 643

Back to directory

Akane woke up to the sound of her alarm. The sun wasn’t even up yet, not like it would be at five in the morning. She reached over and shut her alarm off, she yawned and ran her fingers through her hair. It was extremely tangled, but that usually happened if she didn’t braid it. Hopping out of bed, she pulled the blankets back up before heading to the door and turning the lights on. Fumie flinched at the sudden increase in light, and Ako buried herself further into her blankets.

“Alright everyone!” she cheered, clapping her hands together. “Get up and get dressed. Let’s see who can get dressed first.”

“I got breakfast,” Chihiro groaned, finally sitting up. “You get ready.”

“Thanks!” Akane cheered, leaving the room.

Before heading to the bathroom, she went to the boys room. Knocking on the door, she opened it and turned the lights on. For once, Yuu started moving right away. Mika was still the first to actually have some semblance of consciousness. Kota and Taichi just rolled over away from the light. 

She left the boys to Mika and headed to the bathroom. Stopping by her room again because she forgot her uniform, Chihiro was trying to get the other two girls moving. Grabbing her uniform, she finally made it to the bathroom only for the door to be locked. Before she could knock, the door opened and Mika was there trying to push Kota out the door. She laughed and waved Mika off when he apologized.

---

“So…” Mika started once they sat down for breakfast, “let’s have a better day than yesterday! What do you think, Yuu?”

Yuu stopped shoveling food into his mouth. “Huh? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Akane stifled a giggle. Mika had told her all about how noisy his class had been, and how angry Yuu had been all day. She didn’t say anything though, it seemed to be best to leave Yuu to Mika. It probably had to do with Yuu’s massive crush on him, and somehow Mika was the only one who hadn’t noticed. Somehow…

“Oh that?” Yuu asked when Mika brought the noise.

“That wasn’t me.”

“Then why were you so angry?” Mika asked, he didn’t believe him a bit.

“Mister salty pink hair was being an ass-”

“Yuu!” Akane raised her voice, and smacked him upside the head.

“BUTT! He was being a huge butthead…”Yuu exclaimed.

“Hehe, big bro said butt!” Fumie giggled.

“Anyway there was another kid in my class. He’s really loud, and he picked a fight with the teacher,” Yuu finished before returning to his food.

“Huh,” Akane said, “For once it wasn’t you.”

“Hey!” Yuu yelled while everyone else started to laugh.

Breakfast was finished, and once again they split outside the house. The three highschoolers heading to the station, and Chihiro ushering the others towards their school. Akane frowned, yesterday she’d been too excited to realize how sad not walking everyone to school made her. They’d all walked to school together since Taichi and Ako started school.

When they got to school, they went their separate ways. Akane watched as the boys met up with Shinoa, and “Mister salty pink hair”.  I should go make some more friends, she thought as she headed towards her class. Akane had never really tried to make friends, she’d always had her family and that was enough. 

---

For the morning, Todoroki-sensei had told them to design a costume in small groups. They’d been assigned a hero, and had to find anyone else with that hero. Sadly, she hadn’t gotten the same hero as Mitsuba. Akane had gotten the pro hero freeze burn, real name Todoroki Shouto. No, he was not related to their teacher, he’d cleared that up right away. 

"Alright. You can start now, you have til lunch," Todoroki-sensei announced.

[philliamwrites]

The Dawn Will Come [Chpt.5]

Fandom: Fire Emblem Three Houses

Pairing: Dimitri x Reader, Claude x Reader, Edelgard x Reader, Yuri x Reader, Edelgard x Byleth, lots of minor pairings

Tags: #gn reader, # platonic love byleth & reader, #reader is a tactical unit, #angst, #slow burn, #subplots, #unreliable narrator, #pining, #remporary amnesia, #reluctant herp, #canon divergence, #lost twin au, #many chapters, #original content

Words: 5.4k

Summary: Waking up in a forest without any knowledge of your past and who you are, you join the house leaders of the Officers Academy to search for a way to return your memories. Unfortunately, the church has different plans for you, and Fate places you in the centre of a cruel game with deadly stakes. It certainly doesn’t help to fall in love with a house leader who is doomed to be your demise.

Notes: Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

Chapter 05: Born to Trouble

Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward.

[Hiob 5:7]

    A breeze picks up loose leaves and carries them over a steep hill. The sun, directly above your heads, emits no blazing head and still, wearing light armour and carrying weapons leaves a layer of perspiration on your forehead. Every minute marching towards where the Eagle House students and their astute professor are waiting builds worry and the desire to turn around and put as much distance as possible between you and them but the rope tying you to the task called obligation makes it impossible to sate it.

    A slight pull makes you pause and scratch the thin skin under your eye, the feeling so strange as if someone is tugging your mind in the complete opposite direction. Now that is a new sensation, and you’re careful to remember that when answering the onslaught of questions Hanneman will surely prepare once he’s back. Feeling no pain, you write it off as exhaustion for now, already looking forward to relax in the sauna later and wind down.

    “Is something the matter, Herald?” Dimitri asks. Save for a few scratches and a smudged cheek, he looks fine and appears to be in great spirits. You want to lick your thumb and wipe off the dirt but smearing spit on the heir of a kingdom might not be a great idea in front of his future subjects.

    “Everything is fine,” you, the Liar, say with as much conviction as your conscience allows, which is surprisingly easy. Maybe you were a performer before your amnesia, acting on a stage for an audience that celebrated you switching roles with an ease like changing clothes. Dimitri as well trusts your words, though he could as well be playing the role just to lessen your worry.

    The last possibility to stall the unavoidable confrontation vanishes. They are waiting for you near the stronghold just beyond the forest from which you emerge after another painful, tense march. The remaining Black Eagle students are positioned in a triangle around Byleth. At its tip stands Edelgard, strong and tall, her axe ready to strike whoever stands between her and victory. Flanking her are ever-brooding Hubert and—

    “Linhardt?” you gasp, freezing on the spot which makes everyone sticking to your heels walk right into you. Sylvain only saves himself from falling because he quickly holds onto Dedue who tolerates it like a friendly bear allowing a little bird to sit on his back.

    “Is he doing something?” he asks, tiptoeing to get a better look. “What’s going on?”

    You point a finger at the Black Eagle student. “No one told me it was allowed to bring students back from the sidelines.”

    “Because it isn’t,” Dimitri says, patiently pulling a twig out of his hair. “Those who have lost cannot re-enter the mock battle.”

    You stare at everyone separately, hoping it carries enough weight for them to understand your problem—rather why is no one questioning the obvious? They consider you with as much confusion though, at least something you have in common.

    “Then why is Linhardt participating again?”

    They share worried glances.

    “Herald, what are you talking about?” asks Dimitri with a crease between his eyebrows.

    It is enough to make your next protest come out more desperate. “An hour ago, Felix and I dealt with Ferdinand and Linhardt. I told you!”

    “But—” Sylvain’s face goes blank with surprise. “Didn’t you say you guys got Ferdinand and Dorothea?”

    “Dorothea?” You didn’t even know she participated. “No, I swear, we— Why would I claim something different?” They lack the answer to that just as you and any minute pondering it longer is stolen by a vicious MiasmaΔ that splits a tree behind you in two.

    “Hey!” Sylvain shakes a fist at Hubert. “Use magic only in moderation!”

    His answer is another MiasmaΔ that nearly knocks Sylvain off his feet. Before you can form words, Edelgard takes a swing at you. The hit would have undoubtedly leave you with a concussion were it not for Dimitri’s quick intervention. He deflects her blow though his lance gives a worrying crack.

    “Dimitri.” Edelgard’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s time. We can finally settle the question of who’s stronger.”

    “Very well.” Dimitri’s stance doesn’t falter even as sweat gathers at his temples. “I accept your challenge. With you as my opponent, I won’t hold anything back.”

    Edelgard’s mouth twitches. Dimitri demands with a sharp jut of his chin for you to get out of the way. You don’t argue. Not with the rest from the Eagle house approaching. Dedue, reading your mind, or rather the frantic look in your eyes, charges towards Byleth, leaving Linhardt and Hubert to Sylvain and you.

    You focus on Linhardt, mouth burning to question, “What spell did you use to switch places with Dorothea?”

    He is so baffled by that, you move without thinking—a swift strike, the sword turned midway so the blunt end smashes into his nose. He stumbles back with a sharp cry, a hand flying up to stop the blood running in rivers down his uniform. There is no time feeling bad for catching him off guard like that. A picture flashes before your eyes. You throw yourself to the ground and feel the lance swipe over your head not a second too soon. You roll back up on your feet, glaring at Hubert. He simply raises a brow in challenge. Sure, you accept, fully aware there is only one way to win against him.

    “Edelgard!” you gasp in horror. Hubert’s head twitches but he doesn’t fall for your scheme.

    “Really, Herald? I know Her Highness can take care of herself. You need a better trick than that.”

    “Really? Then how about this trick?”

    This time, Hubert whirls around and is greeted by Sylvain’s fist to his jaw. Combined with your MiasmaΔ, he doesn’t stand a chance. That victory is only short lived though. Out of nowhere, Byleth appears and knocks Sylvain out, not batting an eyelash. She towers like a vengeful spirit, arriving to seek retribution. Trying to move around her, you don’t leave her out of sight for once, your mouth dry and your heart beating so fast your ribcage hurts. The tension is thick enough your swords could cut right through it. It is so tense, in fact, you only manage a dry, “Hey.”

    Byleth raises her sword. “Hello.”

    “Great day to … you know.” You mirror her movement. “Clobber each other with wooden swords.”

    “Less talking, more fighting.” Byleth charges.

    You turn and run away.

    She immediately pursues like a wolf chasing after a deer. If you weren’t so focused on moving your legs as if your life depended on it and not tripping over something, you could swear someone from the sidelines is cheering for you. Someone sounding like Claude.

    “Herald, try a surprise attack! She’ll never expect you to stop and swing your sword at her!”

    No, no, no, he can come down here himself if he has a death wish. But another chance emerges before you, one waiting in the lush thicket that you disappear into in hope to lose her. That hope is quickly vanquished when twigs and dry leaves break right behind you shortly after you breach the edge of the forest. In your panic, you grab onto a branch and pull it with you until you’re sure the blow will at least make Byleth stagger to catch her breath. When you let go, she already knows what you’re up to. With a vicious blow, she breaks the branch and throws her sword at you when you try to run past her back to the field. The pain is unlike anything you’ve felt during training. It brings you to your knees, the stronghold in sight and yet so far away from the forest’s borders. The impact knocks all breath out of your lungs, making you unable to call out for help.

    Byleth stands before you, her sword back in her hand and risen to deliver righteous punishment—until it isn’t Byleth, it is a man, but you can’t see his face, his features hidden by dark shadows.

    Don’t, you think but your mouth forms “You don’t have it in you” instead and before you know it, you speak those words out loud. The picture disappears in a flash so bright, a paper bursting into flames, pain explodes in your head before everything zooms back into painfully sharp focus.

    Something changes in Byleth’s eyes, her hesitation a surprise immediately costing her gravely for Dimitri appears by your side, facing her and a desperate sound of relief escapes you because that means Edelgard is out of the game. It is only a battle of stamina at this point, the battle blurring as you stumble to your feet and help Dimitri to overpower Byleth even though your back is a medley of pain. Judging from how her reacting slower, you get a picture of who from the Black Eagles was fighting the most up until this point.

    Everything happens too fast. It takes one turn, one swipe of Dimitri’s lance, incredible luck that Byleth starts to get exhausted, and a second later, her knee gives in and she’s on the ground, a wooden edge to her throat. The silence is only disturbed by the second roar of trumpets signalling the end of the mock battle.

    You gasp.

    Dimitri gasps.

    Byleth blows a strand of hair out of her face, her face a blank slate.

    Screams and shouts erupt from where everyone else is waiting for you, drowning Jeralt declaring the Blue Lion’s win.

    “Herald.” Dimitri’s smile dazzles you more than the sun’s light, radiant and handsome. “We did it. We did it thanks to you.”

    “No, it was you—” A wave of fatigue washes over you from overusing your power. Exhaustion smothers you, so suddenly that your vision blurs around the edges. Your limbs are leaden; you feel as though you are sinking into mud. Before you hit the ground, Dimitri catches your arm and steadies you.

    It is the unpredictable comedic sort of timing were the cosmos decides it is the right timing for the rest of the students to catch up.

    Sylvain lets out a loud, suggestive whistle, appearing way too chipper for someone just brought back to consciousness thanks to white magic. “Who knew His Highness would decide to court someone wide out in the open like that? Did you invite our dear Herald to dinner first?”

    Ingrid pushes him hard. “His Highness isn’t like you,” she says at the same time Dimitri asks, “But I do plan to invite our Herald to dinner.” All eyes are on him. It is suddenly really hot even though his gauntlets around your arm are cold. “We all are invited to celebrate our victory with a feast in the dining hall.”

    “Aww, goddess help him,” Sylvain sighs, looking like he’s about to facepalm his hand through his forehead.

    Any response on your part is delayed by Rhea and Seteth reaching your group after congratulating each student who participated on their work.

    “Congratulations on winning the mock battle, Herald,” Rhea says, looking incredibly pleased. From the very beginning she’s probably expected nothing less and you wonder if her smile were as content had you failed. “You showed great leadership and trust in your students, who all did exceptionally well.” She’s smiling at every one of them like a proud mother. It leaves a warm, fuzzy feeling inside your chest, her contentment a beacon that banishes the last shadows of doubt in your heart. You could get addicted to this feeling.

    “Now, please return to the monastery,” Seteth advises the students. “We have a few matters to discuss with the faculty members.”

    As the students disperse, Dimitri quickly ducks his head in your direction. “We will speak more later.” He trails after his friends, falling into step with Dedue.

    “Look at them, being so excited. How adorable.” Manuela smiles, not showing any signs of anger about losing the fight or exhaustion flicking the students back together. “Good job leading them, Herald.”

    “And yet, I must advise you to participate more actively in the battle itself next time.” Seteth crosses his arms in front of his broad chest, not sharing Rhea’s idea on how a good job looks. “Professor Byleth showed great assistance and fighting spirit. You would do well to learn from her.”

    Byleth gives a little shrug when you glance at her. She doesn’t seem to care much for that.

    “Don’t be so stern, Seteth,” Rhea chastises him fondly. “There is still so much room to grow for all of them, our dear Herald, Professor Byleth and the students. For now, let us return and allow them a moment of respite. Their first real mission awaits them at the end of next month.”

    Seteth pulls a face as if he bit into a lemon but doesn’t object.

    “I have one concern myself,” you quickly throw in before tracking back, wondering how no one else mentions it. “When Linhardt and Dorothea—”

    “I would like a word,” Byleth suddenly says, grasping your wrist lightly in such an easy, familiar way you immediately shut up. They leave you two to it as you follow them a couple hundred feet behind, both silent though the voice in your mind doesn’t shut up about the dozen of questions bouncing back and forth. After what feels like hours, Byleth finally says, “You noticed it, didn’t you?”

    You stare at the road, a yawning void in your head where just a second ago a cacophony of questions caused a headache, unable to put two and two together. When it finally clicks, you wipe your head so fast in her direction it pops in your neck. “It was you? How did you do it?”

    Byleth doesn’t answer immediately. Her gaze drifts over the treetops, calmly swaying from left to right. The battle has concluded half an hour ago, but it already feels like a lifetime has passed and the peace and quiet of nature around you is like a completely different world. The land surrounding the monastery is exceptionally beautiful, luscious and overgrown with flora that covers the ground in a colourful patchwork rug. How the rest of Fódlan must look like…

    “When we first met, you asked how I could trust you. It will sound strange but you and I, we are connected.” She’s still looking up ahead, now at the towering spires of the monastery piercing the sky.

    Your mouth is dry. “Connected how?”

    She stops now. When she turns and looks at you, again the thread that ties you two together strums in an ancient tune. You stop breathing for that second.

    “You control the flow of the future, and I control the flow of the past.”

    You still don’t understand. Byleth reads as much from your lack of response. “What I mean to say is, I rewind time. When you defeated Linhardt, I turned back time’s hands to have Dorothea walk his path instead to keep my healer. I just never expected anyone would notice. And no one did. Except you.”

    It’s like those words don’t reach you. They recoil from a waterfall that rushes through your ears, distorting the words. When your brain finally finishes freaking out about it, only one thing appears of importance. “You cheated!”

    Byleth wears an expression that clearly states, That’s rich coming from you.

    “I— That—” How can she remain so calm? This information tilts your world, turning every hour you spent lying awake at night in your chambers wondering if you’re the only one with a power like that into a painful memory. “Does that mean you have a Crest as well? If our powers are alike, surely there must be an answer to why we have it. If we talk to Hanneman about it—”

    “You won’t,” Byleth cuts you off, her tone as sharp as her sword. “You will share no word with anyone about what I just revealed, or I will strike you down.”

    The wind picks up, flickering your robes left and right and rocking trees that bow in humility to a force much greater than them—a feeling you can relate to. Cold sweat runs down the back of your neck. This isn’t a threat. It’s a promise.

    “You spend too much time with Hubert,” you manage with a trembling smile only held together when the tension dissipates from Byleth’s face.

    “Professor Hanneman is still studying my Crest,” she says, a tinge of sorrow in her voice that strikes you harder than any danger or threat, “but I can assure you my abilities are not tied to it. I’m sorry.”

    She must have felt what you so desperately wished for: a connection. The assurance that you are not alone in this world with this strange power.

    It makes the way back to the monastery like a march through mud, laden limbs walking towards a goal you don’t know will be worth all the exertion. When the silence becomes too unbearable, you build up the courage to ask, “What are we, Byleth?”

    She drops her gaze to the ground. It is the very first time you see uncertainty hover like a shadow over her face. “I wish I could tell you, but I don’t know.”

    The sky turns an orange canvas when you finally return to the monastery. The last villagers from the small town downhill start returning home, their tools laid to rest inside their carriages. You can’t wait to sink into a nice hot bath, washing away the dried sweat and grime from the battle and change into loose, comfortable evening robes. You don’t come further than past the entrance hall. Leaning against a high pillar, Dimitri is adjusting the loops on his gauntlets, blond strands falling into his face like golden strips of sunshine. Before you reach him, Byleth says with a light touch to your elbow, “Please see Professor Manuela about your wound, okay? You did great today.” You promise her you will and watch her until she disappears through a hall leading to her personal quarters.

    With your attention on him, Dimitri looks up and stands straighter. He grins at you, his smile sudden and jarring like a thunderclap.

    “I have been waiting for you, Herald,” he says and takes you by the wrist. The cold of his gauntlets bites at your skin, making you hiss. His hand immediately drops, and he turns around in panic. “Oh, apologies. It is difficult to control my strength sometimes and—”

    “No, no, that’s not it. I was just a little surprised.”

    He sighs in relief. “Still, I am sorry. I will try to refrain from doing that in the future.”

    “Dimitri.” You graze his clothed underarm with a finger, unsure if that was a wise decision when his eyes widen in surprise. How is it you only notice now how long his eyelashes are? “I think we have seen today I am not that fragile.”

    His eyes jump away, avoiding contact, the blush creeping up his neck clearly standing out against his pale skin. He clears his throat. “I just wanted to make sure you will join us for dinner. I was not joking earlier when I said we should all celebrate our victory.”

    “Are you guys sure? I’m not your teacher and in the end, I didn’t do all too much.”

    Dimitri shakes his head. “Nonsense. You fought with us and led us to victory. We would love to celebrate with you, and while you won’t be with us all the time, I’d love nothing more than to share our happiness with you. Joy can be so fleeting, after all, and I’m sure the rest of the class feels the very same.”

    “If it really is okay with you all…” You glimpse over at him. Why not. Why not enjoy some leisure time with the students. You could surely use it to get to know them better and distract your thoughts from Byleth’s revelation. “Just give me some time to get ready. I’ll see you in the dining hall.”

    “Actually, please come to our classroom,” Dimitri says. “I don’t know how Sylvain managed it, but the kitchen’s head lady allowed us to dine in the classroom.”

    Your brows fly to your hairline. Dimitri answers with a little, low chuckle. You both have a pretty good idea how he managed to pull that stunt.

    Back in your quarters, you wash away the dirt and pick a simple robe the colour of freshly pressed parchment. The water’s heat renders today’s injuries to a dull pain save for the scrapes on your knees that still burn but are clean now. Hunger quickly catches up as well, dispersing your last doubts of intruding the class’ celebration. After leaving your room, you stop by the infirmary where Manuela makes quick work of your remaining wounds with her magic, turning purple bruises into faded yellow spots you immediately forget once you step out and head to your destination.

    The tables are already laid, arranged into a formation that resembles a circle allowing conversations to flow easily. You expected them to be already stuffing their faces but when you step into the Blue Lion’s classroom, the only source of light is a dim candle flickering in the middle of some students huddled together. Only Mercedes’ soft voice is audible, not counting the little whimpers from Annette or Ashe shuffling as he tries to hide behind Dimitri who appears to be the only one invested in her story.

    “… no one knows how deep the tunnels underneath the monastery run. But once they reach where walls are built from skulls and bones, they turn and go back … or try to do so, for who knows what horror lurks behind every corner.”

    “Nooooooo,” Annette cries, clutching to Dimitri’s sleeve. “Why would anyone go somewhere like that?”

    “A-and who built it in the first place? Tunnels lined with bones…” Ashe shudders, still looking smaller than Dimitri even though he is the one sitting.

    “A fascinating idea.” Dimitri’s excitement, bright as a spark, doesn’t bounce over to his friends. “To imagine there could be a whole civilisation living right in plain sight like that.”

    “I can’t imagine we wouldn’t notice,” Ashe reasons. His conviction would be more credible, would he not still cling to a white tail of Dimitri’s shirt. Before you can join and see if you would fare better listening to stories about haunted and forgotten places, Sylvain steals past you, his voice making you jump. “Shouldn’t you guys be finished by now?”

    Seeing your sour expression, he simply winks and hurries inside, carrying a big steaming pot. Followed by the rest of the Lions, they carry plates with dried meat, slices of bread, vegetables and cheese, and place them on the tables for everyone to just pick whatever they want. With a flick of your wrist flames flicker to life inside both fireplaces and the candles on top of the chandelier above your heads. Everyone hurries to find a seat. The students have all changed out of their battle garments into the academy’s summer uniform, its fabric much lighter than the heavy embroidered regular uniform they wore upon your first meeting.

    “My dear friends.” Dimitri raises a cup, holding the thin stem between slender fingers. It would look more elegant were its contents not simply orange juice. “To our victory today and many more to follow.”

    They raise their cups to toast except for Felix who knocks his drink back as if it were strong liquor he desperately needed to sit through this evening gathering. He doesn’t look as pale as before. A quick check up by Manuela after the battle affirmed that he was alright and simply fatigued from countless sleepless nights spent at the Training Grounds.

    The other participants don’t look too bad either. Bruises that vividly blossomed hours ago have faded, swollen purple eyes already start to heal—all certainly thanks to Manuela’s quick work. Sylvain surely won’t be as successful chasing girls with a shiner that makes the prettiest violet jealous of his colour and Dimitri tries to hide it but you don’t miss him tensing from time to time or moving his hand towards his side; probably a bruised rib he doesn’t want anyone to know. He catches your stare and offers a slight, boyish grin under half-closed eyes that only whispers of a shared secret only meant for you two. It does a funny thing to your stomach, a flip or drop, a light twist like missing a step and the fear of falling only to meet solid ground a split second later. You quickly look away and focus on spreading curd on a loaf of bread, not trying to think too much about how the muscles strained under his clothes wielding his lance or the fierce determination colouring his eyes a shade brighter when victory is in palpable proximity.

    You feel a piercing gaze, hot like a solid touch on your skin. Quickly whipping your head around, you catch Felix’s glare from across the room, completely ignoring whatever Sylvain is telling him. It leaves you completely tense for the rest of the dinner, wondering what his problem is and why he is so hostile towards Dimitri specifically. You’ve heard from some students who have walked into an argument those two had, something about a massacre two years ago but details, as is their nature, grow hazy over time and distort until they evolve into something completely different and unrecognisable.

    Felix holds your gaze for a long second, and it is only later after you all clean the classroom from your festivities and decide to retire to bed that you catch him by himself. The monastery at night is a desolate, lonely place save for a couple stray souls wandering about, either on their way to their chamber or out for a quick, last evening prayer inside the chapel. Felix’s destination is none of those as he strides towards the Training Grounds and you call out to him. He slows but doesn’t stop his step until you catch up. “You’re on your way to training, right? Shouldn’t you call it a day? Especially after what happened—”

    “I’ve got no time sitting around and making smalltalk,” Felix snaps, and a month ago you would have thought he aimed his anger towards you but recently you’ve discovered he’s towards the whole world—always glaring, always hissing like a cornered, wounded animal. “There are more important matters like growing stronger—”

    “And suffering from overexertion, I suppose.”

    Felix pulls a grimace. “It was a mistake I don’t intend to repeat. You saw Professor Byleth’s strength. It took two of you to win, and even then, it was mostly luck. I just want to try out some moves Professor Byleth exerted today so I can surpass her strength next time I challenger her.”

    “Why is it that you seek to fight so much?” you ask, deciding forwardness to be a better approach than idle chatter with a person like Felix. He doesn’t give immediate response, not because he ignores you, as is your first assumption, but because he gives it some thought.

    “Why, hm… I learnt to thrust a sword before I learnt to write my name. This is how it is for all children in my country, the perfect environment where I could live free of stodgy values and virtues. Grow strong so you may live, and live to grow stronger. That’s what I was taught.”

    It is no secret Faerghus is the land of knights and chivalry, and still it is hard to imagine a small version of Felix wielding a sword even before he learnt how to use a quill, scraped knees instead of black inked fingertips. What a strange world.

    “As long as you don’t forget to take a break should it get too much. Everyone was worried today.”

    “Everyone should mind their own business. I’m not their problem, and they aren’t mine.”

    You’re too tired to argue relationships don’t work like that, any minute longer on your feet and they’ll simply give out. Wishing Felix a goodnight, you turn towards the chapel but don’t get very far.

    “Herald.” Felix is halfway through the door. “Let me give you one advice.”

    “That is?”

    “Don’t get too close to that damn boar.”

    You’re about to ask what he’s talking about, but he continues, “Beneath all that princely polish, he’s an animal, nothing more. He’s strong and skilled, sure. But don’t place your trust in him as a human being. Take care he doesn’t chew you up and spit you out.”

    Not waiting for a response, Felix moves on, leaving you with more questions than answers. Every creature with two eyes can see hostility between Dimitri and Felix crackling like lightning about to strike the ground and burn down forests and villages. But to go this far and say these words about his future king … Words that couldn’t be more contrary to the impression he’s left on you.

    Whatever Felix wanted to accomplish, his words succeed to remain in your head the whole night, driving off any sleep you direly needed after that day. But even without that, your mind is occupied with questions. It is like stumbling into a spider web, sticky tangles everywhere with no way out.

    Who is that man you remembered? It was such a brief, yet striking memory, of what moment you cannot recall. His hostility was evident in his stance, sharp sword high up to drive down with enough force to cut your head from your shoulders. And yet here you are.

    And your words, You don’t have it in you. If you were familiar enough with that person to know this, who was he to you, and what had stopped him? Did he have a change of heart and instead used the blunt end, giving you a concussion and amnesia instead? Where is he now? And would he return to finish his work?

    Since that day, you look out for anyone fitting that built: tall and lean, visible even through robes with a design completely different from anything you’ve seen around the monastery. Asking Rhea or Seteth could be an option, but strangely enough, you don’t want to reveal it to anyone yet, not until you’ve found an answer yourself first.

    That is how your first moon at the monastery passes. Now there are more questions than before, more secrets to carry with no clear goal in sight. Lessons continue, you attend seminars and life unfolds in Garreg Mach, surprising you how easy it is growing accustomed and familiar with the place and its people—some more so than others.

    Byleth still invites you to her obligatory weekend-tea time sessions, rarely accepting no for an answer even though tea isn’t really what you consume to wind down. She’s acting like your talk after the mock battle has never happened and you do your best to mimic her even though you’d love nothing more than to see her power in battle. That opportunity shows at the end of the following month when Byleth and her class are tasked to deal with bandits the knights cornered in Zanado, the Red Canyon, but Rhea has different plans and instead sends you with the Golden Deer House to the village at the foot of the mountain to help clear debris a flooding left on one of the main roads leading to Alliance territory. It takes two days until the stench from the muddy riverbank is completely washed out of your hair.

    There is still no sight of the man from your memory, even though word about the Herald’s return has reached every corner of Fódlan by now. It makes you wonder if it’s less a matter of if and rather when he sets food inside the monastery. No additional memory has resurfaced, no sudden epiphany provides explanation and you doubt that will change even though Seteth drags you inside the chapel to pray for the goddess’ help whenever his time allows. Mostly, you use those occasions to ask her to make Raphael and Ingrid leave some Nirvana Cake for you.

    Then there is your other little secret of course. After another month of waking to an indistinguishable voice calling out to you every once in a while, you’ve grown used to it, finding a strange comfort in someone or something looking over you. Maybe it is the goddess. Maybe she is trying to reach out to tell you something important, to give divine insight and reach out to her followers. You just hope once she comes through to you, her words won’t proclaim hardships and sorrow.

[just-a-fangirl13]

Why s5 *might* be the season MacRiley happens

Okay so...Hear me out! I'm not crazy I promise!!

Firstly, after 5x03 (and probably 5x04) it may seem very unlikely that MacRiley could ever happen. But I thought of a few reasons why they might actually happen by the end of s5 after all.... (it gets a lil long winded and kinda complicated but just stick with me till the end!)

1. All the MacRiley moments including the ones in 5x03.

[this Mac smile could not be an accident or something that slipped through both production and post-production right?! that in itself is a whole reason!]

Every Macriley moment we have ever had- whether it's the hugs, Riley saving Mac, Mac saving Riley, the ultimate show of loyalty when Riley went after Mac during Codex or even just the looks exchanged between the two- to any outsider it would seem pretty obvious that they are dating or at least in love. Keep in mind the writers would have written each of those scenes and Lucas and Tristan have acted them out with a specific build up in mind aka MacRiley.(think about the date episode: Riley just got dumped but was still thinking about how Mac might be hungry. She didnt have to do that. She could have just shown up at his place..) I mean how can they write two people so perfectly in sync and so perfect for each other and not have them end up together? It would just be a waste of all that tension and slow burn. (not to mention all the hugs and glances)

2. They know we exist. 

The MacRiley fam is very active on twitter with the writers and while they were writing 5x01 they knew we were around. They know we are a huge group. They would not want to risk pissing 90% of the fandom off by not making MacRiley endgame.

[P.S.yes 5x03 was a bait and switch but if you were paying attention you would have noticed that neither Lucas not Tristan live tweeted or hyped up the episode. They knew we would probably hate it so they didnt publicise it too much! so in the future if you have doubts about the episode being a MacRiley one just check their stories or posts on twitter/intstagram]

3. Yes 5x03 happened. 

I really think it was an episode they HAD to write. Ok so after 4x13 they had 7 more episodes planned and were filming 4x20 (aka the finale) when the pandemic struck. So they have these 6 episodes but no finale for it. [Idk if anyone else has noticed but in 5x01 there were clearly some parts cut out. For example the conversation between Desi and Riley towards the end seemed a bit jilted. Riley asking Desi to forgive her but Desi replied with yeah we are cool (still no apology ofc) I feel like something happened during that which ended up getting cut out so it could fit with the final story.]

This makes me think that they have rewritten a few bits to tie into the new finale episode. In 5x03 when Mac asked Desi to come fishing with him which was clearly something very personal to him she was like no do better.. then we see Mac's disappointed expression. She could have easily said okay but maybe not for our first date? Or its not really my thing? Or just about anything else rather than laughing in his face like that. Eventhough MD is together they still arent compatible. Mac’s final words in 5x03 was him being desperate. I truly think he is so broken and lost that Desi is the only safe thing left, the only thing he feels like he can fix right now. Once he finds himself again and heals...then it's going to hit him like a pile of bricks!!

4. But Riley doesn't have feelings anymore...WELL doesnt she? 

When it comes to Mac, Riley is always in denial. We saw it in s4 when she tells Bozer not to make her say it. I think s5 will show her finally accepting it. Finally accepting that she is in love with her best friend and that it definitely isnt Codex adrenaline because she caught the feels when Codex wasnt even around. While Mac's arc would include realising he and Desi are never going to work and that he is unhappy and that RILEY is the one for him.

[why else would they give Riley feelings for Mac? Something has to come of it.]

5. The slow burn rule.[this point is a lil complicated] 

Now season 5 is rumoured to have 13 episodes. So here’s what I think: If MacGyver follows the pattern that most shows do when it comes to slow burns, then technically MacRIley should have happened at the end of season 4. But since the season got cut short and they didnt get to air/finish their final episode the writers had to improvise. 

From what I know, 4x19 which is 5x04 for us is the episode where Mac meets Desi’s parents and 4x20 was supposed to be the finale that was left unfinished.(they are definitely moving the timeline ahead if a pre finale episode is suddenly a mid season one.) There might have been a 4x21 or 4x22 but I haven't heard anything about those....EVER.

So what I think they have decided to do instead is extend the MD storyline a bit longer just so they dont end up scrapping all their s4 episodes where they would be together and write a new finale that ties everything together, aka MacRiley.

If you think about episode counts, s4 and s5 together would have 26 episodes which is a how long a normal season runs. Basically what im trying to say is if we follow the ‘slow burns end by s4’ and take season 5 as an extension of 4 then MacRiley should get together in the season 5 finale or maybe the episode just before. (IM REALLY TRYING TO GET SOME LOGIC INTO THIS)

This would be a typical TV thing too where the couple finds out about each other’s feelings while the main arc of the show is also at its peak, which perfectly sets up a future season where fans are hyped but still has a satisfying ending.

6. So what about MacDesi?

So far the macgyver writers have given us characters we love. Think of every character on the show apart from maybe Desi... Mac, Riley, Bozer, Jack, Matty, Leanna, Samantha, Russ and even Murdoc. WE LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. So then why is Desi such a strange character? I think shes purposely been written as an opposite to Mac or even Riley (I get she’s supposed to kinda replace Jack but Jack is really irreplaceable). 

It's not necessarily a bad thing its just not a great thing to do or have great execution. People have said things like Desi is a badass and shouldnt have to apologise or say I love you back to her boyfriend because she is a strong woman...I'm sorry but your opinion of who a strong woman is, is EXTREMELY skewed. A strong woman is someone who can make mistakes and when she does, she is ‘strong’ enough to own up to it, she is loyal and fierce and also caring while being a badass who can take down bad guys. And for GODS SAKE, RILEY DAVIS IS A STRONG WOMAN...people have called her mushy and feminine on twitter and I'm just very confused by that.....

Anyways before I go off on a rant, it seems like Desi is intentionally being written this way. Every opportunity they get to redeem her and make her more relatable or just a better person they just dont take it. While Rileys character arc is one of the best I've ever seen. Either its intentional or they’ve forgotten how to write characters...which is worrisome but ill give them the benefit of the doubt.

The writers also know we dont like Desi. The amount of times we've tagged them in the toxic posts or pointed out problematic things we can be sure they've seen at least half of those. So theres no way they dont know. RIGHT?

So why then is MD still a thing you may ask??

Well for one they cant break them up again off screen because of those unreleased s4 episodes. (not to mention the other parts of the audience who arent as invested in mac’s love life would probably be very confused.)

Secondly Mac has to be the one to pull the plug, not Desi. 4x13 made it seem like Desi was the annoyed one not Mac. He apologised to her which meant he wanted to fix things. 

Thirdly, they are opening the chpt one last time before they permanently close it. MD is going to be a stark contrast to macriley(it already is in every way possible). Every issue Mac and Desi had can be used to show how amazing macriley really is as two people who arent even dating yet.

Fourthly, MD being together is a sort of commentary on Macs mental health as well. We can see how happy he is with Riley but around Desi he becomes some one else. If the writers are doing this on purpose or subconsciously still remains to be seen.

And Yes keeping MD around for a few more episodes seems like a necessary risk right now but I have a feeling its going to be worth it later.

[I know we have had like 4 desi entered episodes already but I really think 5x04 will be the last of it since 5x05 is the Jack episode and 5x06 is Mac+Riley+Bozer episode with no mention of Desi at all!]

The writers know we are a dedicated bunch and they know that once MD breaks up for the last time the entire fandom will be waiting and watching. That's when the show will be at its peak. That will be the perfect moment to bring in MacRiley’s arc to a new start!

Congrats if you stuck with me through this whole thing! if you agree/disgaree with any of these or have other reasons why they could be endgame in s5 let me know!!

[frogsmulder]

Maybe There’s Hope: chpt 6 Hold My Hand

Starting from the final events of 09x20 The Truth,  Mulder and Scully tackle their new reality as fugitives. When they  finally settle into things, Scully finds out she is pregnant again. A canon divergent AU where I thought, what if Scully got pregnant whilst on the run instead of at the end of season 11?

2.8k words; rated e; tagging @today-in-fic; read on ao3

Hastily, they had bought a punnet of strawberries and booked into the nearest motel– each while trying to suppress smirks of anticipation. Scully had barely gotten through the door, and a strawberry in her mouth before Mulder was on her, leaving sloppy kisses down the column of her neck. Her head fell back against the door and she involuntarily moaned. When his teeth scraped along her skin, she pushed him away, giggling, "Mulder!"

"Yes?" he chuckled. He looked at her with the smile of a long lost puppy, and yet with eyes that bloomed with desire. She cupped his cheek, falling straight into those whirls of grey and hazel. Standing on her tip-toes, she leaned up to meet his lips. Softly and slowly, she kissed him and walked him to the bed: the strawberries forgotten on the table by the door. When the backs of his knees hit the mattress, he fell backwards and Scully followed, landing on top of him.

She braced herself, forearms laying on his chest, moving with the rise and fall of his breathing. Taking a moment, she let her eyes travel down to the pout of his lips, touching delicately with the tips of her fingers what she could see. She let out a breathy laugh like she had expected to find a mirage instead of his soft skin. The culmination of all their years together lay before her in its simplicity. She felt as though she were waking up from a surreal dream that was the last few months.

"I love you," she breathed against his lips, shaping a thousand promises with three words.

One of Mulder's hands wound through her hair, tresses of blonde spilling from his fingers. He leaned in to steal a small kiss, murmuring, "Love you too."

Scully smiled, dragging her finger along the lips that whispered of other-worldly wonders long into the night. Somewhere deep behind them was a heart that beat to her rhythm and a mind that shared the same thousand vows.

With her tongue she retraced the pilgrimage that her fingers made, teasing for something deeper. Mulder took the bait. His fist tightened in her hair and he met her fervently, slowly dancing with her like they were still twirling around on the beach. The sweet taste of strawberry and the pure essence of Scully captured his senses, flooding his veins as she worked her way under his skin and through his entire body. At his lungs, she took his breath away until she gently broke the lock of their lips. He couldn't help the little gasp that she drew from him.

A smile still on her face, she urged him up, lifting his top over his head. Her smile only grew when her nails scratched through the thatch of hair that adorned his chest and drew circles around his nipples. She bit her lip at the tender thrust of his hips in response.

Thumbing the smile at the corner of her mouth, Mulder gently took her puckered lip between his. His hands wrapped around her waist, hugging her closer. One nudged the hem of her t-shirt up, needing to remove the barriers between them; the other dipped to the small of her back, reliving the bliss of dancing with her in his arms. His heart pounded with the sudden rush of the memory. He didn't know why he had said it but he meant it. My beautiful wife. He needed her to know it was more than a slip of the tongue.

"I'm serious, Scully," he murmured from somewhere inside her mouth. "One day, we'll get out of this mess... And I'll make that promise to you..."

"I know," she hushed, at once aware of where his mind was racing, wanting nothing more than to believe him. She also knew it could never happen. But that didn't matter. In the moment they were their's– that was all that mattered: the way they felt together living in the present. It was what she had fought so hard for and what she was now learning to seize. "But I don't want to talk about that right now."

"Oh?" he smirked with an innocent tone. "What do you want to talk about?"

Scully grinned. "Shut up, Mulder."

She let her hands do the talking as they wandered down his torso. Straddled over his lap, she shimmied backwards until she was off the bed, standing before him. She placed a light touch to his knees and he instantly understood her meaning, opening them so she could step closer. Her fingers walked up his thighs, meeting together over the prominent bulge showing in his pants. She bit her lip as she worked the fasten carefully, taking her time.

Mulder groaned when he saw the look on her face. "Scully, you're killing me."

Her eyes flickered up to his and he thought he would catch alight under their playful, glimmering heat. She saw him wholly and completely like he was the only thing in the world– he was her world– and the giggle she couldn't help was like a new dawn that lit it up. She used to giggle all the time: now less so. Whilst he knew it was partially his fault, he treasured every one he was blessed with: now more so.

He toed his shoes and socks off as Scully finally had his pants undone and, with his help, down his legs. Casting them aside, she stepped out of her own shoes and socks, her gaze traveling slowly down his body to where only a thin piece of cotton was left doing nothing to disguise his arousal.

"I feel a little overdressed," she chuckled.

He reached for her hand, rubbing circles reverently across the back of her hand. "You know, you could easily do something about that."

She rolled her eyes and took off her pants but left on her t-shirt, making Mulder pout. Gently, she pushed on his shoulders and he played along, falling back onto the mattress. Tongue subconsciously wetting her lip, she eased him out of his boxers, smiling when he sprung free.

He expected her to climb on top of him and bury him with her presence, her lithe body somehow adept at swamping his own frame. He didn't expect when she took him in her hands that it would be accompanied by the stroke of her tongue. Breath caught in his throat, he had to grasp the bedsheets when her mouth descended on him, the initial surprise almost too good to register.

Scully was worried that she had done something wrong but the tension in his body slowly released itself, alleviating her along with it. It had been a long time since they had done this and she regretted that she'd pushed him to go hard and fast in the past just to escape her own thoughts. She missed this: enjoyed the little whimpers and groans she could conjure from him. She missed them. It felt good to take back some control in the chaos of their lives; she liked the responsibility of taking care of him this way.

She continued to work her tongue around his shaft, teasing him with little licks and kisses, and cupping him from beneath. She hugged him between her lips, moving like the tide, testing how far she could take him. His hips twitched in restrain when she nudged him to the back of her throat, so she let up a little and sought out his hand, twining their fingers together and squeezing as if to say relax: it's okay.

"Scully, please..." he warned, managing to open his eyes long enough to see that she had heard him.

"Sorry," she smiled, crawling up the bed towards him. "I was enjoying myself."

"And me too apparently," he laughed, running his hands up her sides and taking her t-shirt with him. They snaked around her shoulder blades and beckoned her down into a sweet kiss before he pulled the top over her head. Her ruffled hair fell about her bare shoulders in mesmerising waves. Mulder tucked a strand behind her ear, aware that he was probably wearing the goofiest grin, a mirror to the one spread across Scully's countenance.

He braced her as they rolled over, her hair now splayed across the bed like a lion's mane. Hovering over her, he took a moment to detail the intricacies of her beauty like it was the first time before descending down the bed. Careful to avoid her breasts, he continued until he was kneeling on the floor.

Scully sat up on her elbows, peering down at him with a raised eyebrow. "Where are you going?" she asked, although she knew, she just wanted him on top with her.

He lifted her legs over his shoulders with a cocky smile, pulling her to the edge. "You really thought you wouldn't get tit for tat?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed, but put up no fight when he put his mouth to use.

Mulder rested at the crest of her thighs, leaving blossoming flowers of love bites on the inside of each, building anticipation until it hung closely in the air. He broke the spell, dragging his tongue leisurely through her arousal until he reached the peak. Placing his hands across her stomach, he took note of the swell of her breath and the shudders that rippled through her, tuning himself to her body like every word she offered was a literary masterpiece he was fortunate enough to have a translation for. When he sensed her rhythm was off kilt, he laid his chin on his hands and gazed at her furrowed brow.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"It... I don't know... feels strange," she mused.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"Don't even think about it," she uttered with an impish smirk.

Mulder dove back down, easing her with the softest of touches to the brink. It took longer than usual, slowly building the intensity of his strokes and plunges, drawing circles like ripples in ponds. There was something different about the way she moved in response; the way she felt under his tongue; the way she tasted tangier than usual. Then again, it had been a while since they had done this. And he missed it: the intimacy and care and devotion that flourished between them in the private darkness between the days. When the world was on the precipice of another tomorrow, they could roll around in the sheets of today and he would venerate all that was Scully. Never a religious man, he would spend hours at her altar, drinking holy water from her font whilst prayers fell from her parted lips. And the plentiful gasps and moans she left as offerings were a familiar and homely constant that he gathered in abandon.

He chuckled– the vibrations lighting her up like a Christingle– at the sacrilegious image that for him this was an act of confession. And with his recent absence from the confessional, Mulder had a litany of delicious sins to tell.

Her hand wound through his hair, her steel-tight grip tugging at his head with enthusiasm as her back arched hips lurched off the body. Her toes curled and he grunted as her heels dug into his back. He plunged in two fingers, drawing out her climax, waiting for that ultimate prayer.

"Ah! God, Mulder," she gasped.

Finally, he felt her quiver awash with sated pleasure. He lifted his head with a smile, chin glistening, and she laughed at his eager expression.

"Better?" he quipped.

She rolled her eyes, chest still heaving with shallow breaths. "If I say yes, will it wipe that smug smile off your face?"

His grin only broadened.

"Mulder, shut up," she whispered.

He scooped her up in his arms and shuffled on his knees across the bed. Scully had to bite her lip to stifle a giggle, being carried bridal-style seeming all at once completely ridiculous yet right. She relaxed into the strength of his arms supporting her and allowed herself to be transported like she allowed herself to be whirled around by him in the past, holding his hand as they chased mystery and adventure. It always felt right to go along with him– especially on the completely ridiculous. So, she wrapped her arm around his neck, the picture of his mouth still doing things to her even though she was bathing in a warm, fuzzy glow, and kissed his shiny, pink lips, momentarily distracting him. He stumbled and they fell into the pile of pillows at the head of the bed.

"Scully!" he laughed.

"Yes?" she deadpanned.

He wanted to say that he missed this mischievous side to her, the smile on her face, and the laughter in her lungs, that seeing them all return felt like a dream come true. He sighed contently, letting his thoughts exhale before he cursed the moment.

A whisper of understanding passed in her eyes and in her smile, and she leaned in to kiss the sigh from his lips. She held onto him, cupping his cheeks with tenderness as if he would slip away if she let go. Pushing his tousled hair back, she ran her fingers down his sideburns and dragged her lips over his, tempting his tongue into her mouth.

He slowly pulled away, the lingering tingle of her lips ever-present. Kissing her forehead, he brought them together, steadily sheathing himself in her up to the hilt.

"Oh, God," she whispered, feeling so full she might burst. She sought his eyes hooded above, drowsy with lust and reverence. He soothed her, brushing his thumbs along her eyebrows and peppering kisses along her hairline, down her nose, and on her cheeks, waiting for her to tell him she was okay.

"I'm good," she eventually breathed, "but wait a second." She pushed him over and straddled his hips, reveling in the way he filled her. Gently, she ground against him in circles, eliciting sensations in places she could hardly imagine, it had been so long since she took the time to indulge in them. "Okay, now I'm good," she laughed.

Mulder's mind went into oblivion when she started to roll her hips. Her hands were everywhere on him: his chest, his arms, his shoulders, and through his hair, leaving trails of burning desire in their wake. He steadied himself with his hands on her hips, guiding the oscillation of her body like a deep-sea current, each wave from her coursing through him larger and rougher than the last. In the eye of the storm, Scully placed a hand over his at her hip, tenderly removing it so she could lace her fingers through his. Together they squeezed each other's hand: they were okay.

Their tangled hands landed above his head, bringing their tangled bodies closer together. They traded kisses and soft smiles, forging their love in the fires of hope, burning bright enough to stave off the hungry darkness.

----------

Scully woke up to morning light filtering through the blinds, her head and her arm resting on Mulder's bare chest. The rise and fall of his breaths were almost enough to lull her back to sleep, curled tightly around his warm body, but she kept her eyes open enjoying the quiet. She pulled Mulder's t-shirt that she was wearing to her nose, breathing in its smell. She hummed and closed her eyes.

The still was suddenly broke by a coiling feeling tightening in her gut. It shot through her, climbing up her throat. Panic rising with the bile, she rushed to the bathroom, only just getting there in time to lift the lid of the toilet. She wretched although her stomach was empty, the sound cutting through her like nails on a chalkboard. Her medical mind took over, speculating possibilities and eliminating them as quickly. She didn't have a fever, a headache, dizziness, none of the usual accompanying symptoms...

The nausea, the cravings, the tenderness. She wanted to curse herself, but of course, it wasn't possible. It hadn't been possible the first time. She flushed the toilet and got up. Looking in the mirror everything looked fine; she looked normal; she seemed normal. She shook her head: she was just being paranoid. It was probably all psychosomatic. She was just seeing patterns that weren't there.

Running the water, she cupped her hands underneath the stream to drink from and splashed her face as well. Mulder appeared behind her, his calming aura alerting her to his presence before he even soothed her nerves with the simple touch of his hand on her waist. He rested his head on top of hers, his sleepy, half-open eyes finding hers in the mirror.

"You left me," he mumbled. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just..." she trailed off not knowing really what to say. Instead, she turned into his arms and tried to relax. Everything was fine.