#I guess the bounty hunter part? But he & his little group takes bounties from anyone

[shabadarada]

i read up on Knight and saw that his hubby—Gunner—was both a justiciar and a serial killer

isn't he also kinda abusive iirc? 🤨

can I make him explode (in my mind ofc)?

YEA SURE 🔥💥💥🔥💥💥🔥🔥 TAKE HIS HUSBAND AWAY YOU CAN TREAT HIM BETTER 💥🔥🔥🔥💥‼️‼️‼️ HYAAAAA 🧨🧨🧨🧨🧨

[writerlyhabits]

Ration Packs

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: based on this request...

“I’m guessing it’ll be ration packs for dinner?” you added, nodding towards the empty satchel hanging from his hip.  “There wasn’t a market on the way back to the ship,” he almost pleaded, trying to explain his intentions, but you simply gave him a tight-lipped nod in acknowledgment.  “I’ll get the packs started so it's ready by the time you’ve unloaded.” Your voice lacked its usual kindness. This shift in the conversation had you speaking with him as if this were all just… business. Had he pushed you too far? Were you trying to remind him that he had hired you to be here? That he should be keeping things… professional? Fuck. This was why he worked alone.  

Warnings: mild language, miscommunication [but not in a horrible way, don’t worry, I’m better than that], young dumb in love din djarin, mild angst, angst with a happy ending, everything is in Din’s pov because i love his dumbass train of thought, idk it’s pretty soft

AN: oh my god i’m back from the dead! I told you guys i’d be back 😂 This request has been sitting in my inbox for probably about a year… and I have no end of apologies, but i’m finally done and it’s a miracle I don’t hate it 😂 I did change the prompt a little… the idea of them putting Grogu to bed was cute, but I had an idea for a younger Din and just fell in love with it, so i ran with that. I hope you guys enjoy 💖 Thank you @deceiver-of-gods for putting up with me all this time, ily 😘

Din had traveled through the toughest parts of the galaxy without batting an eye. He’d run with a mercenary group and proven himself to have more skills, more hits, more value… and more of a moral compass than anyone else in the group. After fighting his way out of their grip, he had taken out high-level targets with ease to earn his way into the Bounty Hunters guild. Din continued to be not only one of the youngest of their ranks, but also the most highly sought after. And after all of that? 

You were his greatest challenge. 

His Razor crest had taken one too many hits for him to be able to repair on his own, and the costs of repairs on his pre-imperial ship were starting to eat into the funds he usually gave back to his covert. Not providing for them was not an option; the Beroya was supposed to send their spoils back to the covert to provide for those in hiding. This is the way…

So when he landed on a planet with lush, colorful flora, and a generally trusting local people, he least expected you to strike a bargain with him. He needed a mechanic, and you wanted a ticket out. Free boarding and transportation in exchange for a live-in repair crew, he just had to get you the parts. It was his perfect solution. He hired you on the spot and scheduled to ship out as soon as the Crest was back in working order. 

On that first day of travel, Din had only just entered hyper-speed when he became overly critical of his ship. The cold, metal surfaces of the hull were uninviting, full of sharp edges, and devoid of any personality. It didn’t take him much longer to realize that, to an outsider, his armor looked much the same. 

But he’d never seen it that way before. To him, the Mandalorian armor was a sign of home, of belonging. It had been his savior in his childhood, and a beacon of his people as he grew into his own. He had tucked away into coverts where the blank metal lining of their ships and their walls meant protection. 

But you were not Mandalorian. You hadn’t grown up around sharp edges and cold surfaces. The place you called home was filled with warm colors and soft curves, the buildings made to flow with the organic structures of the nature around them, letting in the bright sunlight necessary for its growth. You yourself walked with an elegance Din was unfamiliar with, treading softly on the ground and smiling brightly at him each time your kind eyes met his dark visor. You had shared your warmth with him since the moment he’d met you, despite the coldness he was certain he portrayed, and it surprised him how much he found himself drawn to it. Drawn to you. 

You were everything he wasn’t. But Din would do everything in his power to make sure you never came to regret agreeing to this strange setup, that you never felt isolated or alone because you’d chosen him – a walking wall of cold beskar – as your traveling companion. 

At first, he’d merely wanted to bring you things that reminded him of your home, things he thought might do the same for you. Anytime he was in a market passing through, either on a supply run or with a bounty in tow, he found something colorful to bring back to you. The first few had been small trinkets, things you could keep in the small cupboard you had decided to call your quarters, or delicate pieces of jewelry he would later catch you wearing around the ship. 

The feeling Din got seeing you wear something he gave you made something warm swell inside of him… It made it hard to come back to the ship empty-handed, especially with the promise of your soft smile when he held his hand to you with a new gift. 

On one of his trips, he’d brought back a woven tapestry; the craftsmanship had been beautiful, and the colors matched those of the outfits you wore the most around him. Din was about to launch into an apology when he first gave it to you, not having thought about where you would even be able to put it, but his statement was cut short when you happily grabbed it from him and turned on your heel to find something. 

Not even a few moments later, you returned with a handful of powerful magnets you’d picked up on a market a few planets back, and he watched as you excitedly hung the artwork from one of the walls in the Crest’s hull, creating a curtain in front of one of the panels on that wall – you must have thought it was as ugly as he did. 

“What do you think?” You had asked him, and he watched self-consciousness start to creep in now that your initial excitement was starting to wear off. 

“It looks good,” he’d replied a little stiffly, still having a hard time finding the courage to speak around you. A bounty hunter, with hundreds of captures under his belt, was still too shy to talk to his mechanic… he at least wasn’t dumb enough to miss the irony in his own predicament, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t his truth. 

Since then, Din had started bringing back more things you could use to decorate the ship with; tapestries, blankets, and cushions accompanied the trinkets and jewelry he brought back with him. He could tell that your favorite of his gifts had been a soft shawl he’d seen hanging at a market in the rural areas of Naboo. The politician’s son he was paid to deliver back home had gone on about the luxury material it was made of, something about ancient processes and unique resources… All he knew was that it brought out your natural beauty when you wrapped it around your shoulders, and he felt his cheeks get warm under his helmet when you did. 

The two of you started to fall into these new routines fairly easily, and with all of your redecorations, it was becoming a welcome change. In the evenings – or at least what you thought was evenings in the darkness of hyperspace – you would prep a set of ration packs for the both of you. It was always two of the same kind so that you could feel like you were “sharing a meal,” a concept he had very little experience with. At least, he hadn’t for a very long time. 

Since eating required removing his helmet, Mandalorians often took their meals in solitude, or within the confines of their family. You, on the other hand, were used to shared meals in dining rooms with someone at every seat, and communal dining halls bustling with people. At first, Din was afraid you might take offense to him leaving during meal times, never quite sure how to phrase his dilemma. 

Luckily, he never had to. 

You caught on pretty quickly to his predicament, handing him a warm ration pack with a smile before turning to let him eat in peace. He always rushed through his meals in order to join you in the hull, to thank you for your silent understanding by coming down to talk with you as you ate yours at a leisurely pace. 

As the weeks went by, Din picked up on some of your silent requests as well, memories of food that didn’t need to be rehydrated before you ate it. He began looking out for other booths at the markets, and fresh ingredients began coming home in place of some of the gifts and trinkets he always brought back with him. Each time he did, a home-cooked meal would follow, and Din always made sure he expressed his gratitude when he came back down to join you for the second half of your meal. 

Your routines continued like this for a while, silently assessing each other’s needs, and wordlessly adjusting to accommodate. And it worked. The Razor Crest felt more and more like a home rather than the metal casing of a ship, small traces of your personal touch nearly everywhere he looked. The food had been better, the companionship had been better, far better than the cold silence he’d had to put up with before you came to him. 

And Din started to catch on to just how much his own feelings revolved around you. 

He craved your warmth at the end of a rough day, he sought to provide your happiness, to get your approval… He tried to be better at actually opening his mouth, being able to express more of his feelings for you outside of your usual, quiet understanding of each other. He tried asking you more questions, wanting to not only hear about the events of your day but to actually get to know you better, showing you how much he genuinely cared. And Din was elated when you started to do the same in return. 

After he came back to the ship from a particularly taxing hunt, he heard your soft footsteps descending the ladder from the cockpit while he secured the unconscious bounty into the corner of the hull you had affectionately deemed “time-out.” The most uncomfortable chair had been secured behind some of your tapestries, acting as a set of curtains that kept the bounties from view. 

When Din emerged from the hanging fabrics, he could feel some of the tension leave his body at the sight of you in your work clothes, a warm smile dancing on your grease-stained cheeks, wiping your hands on the old flight suit you’d brought with you from home. No matter how difficult his hunts had been, being able to debrief with you upon his return always made him smile beneath the helmet. 

“Hey!” you lilted. 

“Hey,” he responded, still a little awkward despite how long you’d been working together. He was getting better, but it could definitely still use improvement. 

“How’d the hunt go?” you asked, gesturing to the closed curtain beside him. “Obviously successful if you’ve got someone in time-out.” Din chuckled under his breath at your quip, mulling over the events of his day before he replied. 

“It was fine.” You looked at him expectantly for a few moments, waiting for him to continue. 

“Just… fine?” you half giggled, one brow raised in question while you donned a crooked grin. It hadn’t really gone bad, he did have the bounty in hand. It could have gone better, but nothing that came to any detriment in the end… 

He nodded. “It… went well. There’s nothing to report,” he shrugged, unsure what else you were looking for in his answer. 

But your face fell. Only for a moment… but enough for him to see it. 

“How are your repairs coming?” He tried, hoping to stir the conversation again, to fix whatever had caused your sudden change in attitude. 

“Fine. There’s nothing to report.” Your answer was short, both in your words and your temper. You usually volunteered the finer details of your projects, explaining with a dramatic flair all of your trials and your victories, stories that Din was always happy to be an audience to. 

Why hadn’t you done so this time?

“I’m guessing it’ll be ration packs for dinner?” you added, nodding towards the empty satchel hanging from his hip. One that usually carried whatever gift he had brought for you. Dank farrik… he already hated coming back empty-handed – something you had never made him feel guilty for – but right now it was only making him feel worse. 

“There wasn’t a market on the way back to the ship,” he almost pleaded, trying to explain his intentions, but you simply gave him a tight-lipped nod in acknowledgment. 

“I’ll get the packs started so it's ready by the time you’ve unloaded.” Your voice lacked its usual kindness. This shift in the conversation had you speaking with him as if this were all just… business. Had he pushed you too far? Were you trying to remind him that he had hired you to be here? That he should be keeping things… professional?

Fuck. This was why he worked alone. 

One of the downsides of having grown up around the Mandalorians was that his concepts of interpersonal relationships were skewed. The two of you were operating on completely different sets of rules, and where you had been able to read each other incredibly well… Now he was left to try and figure out where he’d gone wrong. 

With Mandalorians, he knew where he stood. They spoke with purpose, meaning exactly what they said. Even growing up constantly harassing and sparring with Paz, Din knew where his sentiments came from; competition, comradery, and a deep passion for his people. But outside the covert… Din was still finding his footing when it came to the beings he interacted with. Riding with the mercenary group had at least taught him how to weed through the tangled lies that spewed from their mouths, trusting them only as far as he could throw them – if that. 

But you were nothing like those slimy low lives. He didn’t know how to start friendships, how to engage in small talk… and he had no idea where to start when it came to the way you made his heart rate pick up. You made Din nervous, but you were also a comfort. You were new and familiar all at once, a new adventure as well as a place of rest. 

You meant so much to him… and he’d managed to drive you away just as quickly as he had let you in. 

…

The fog of uncertainty hung around the ship for days, and with it, the cold emptiness he had been so accustomed to in his solitude had returned. But after the warmth you had brought to his Razor Crest, being without it was almost suffocating. Din missed you. 

That was a fact he was trying to wrap his head around, seeing as you still lived with him on the ship… but it wasn’t the same. You stopped humming while you worked on different panels across his ship, blanketing the hull in silence. Any questions Din tried to ask you were met with short, quiet responses. Surprisingly, you still made the effort to prepare a ration pack with yours during meal times, but when he rushed back down from the cockpit in record time to join you, you were nowhere in sight. 

There was nowhere to go inside his ship. That was one of the things he’d liked about it; there was room for him to live on board comfortably without giving his bounties anywhere to hide. And yet, you still managed to avoid him. When he entered the hull, you escaped to your room. When he climbed up the rungs to the cockpit, you would make some quiet excuse and scurry out the door behind him. No matter where he went, what he said, or whatever measures he took to try and catch you off-guard, you were gone before he could even open his mouth. 

He was fucking sick of it. He had made a promise, when you came aboard, that he would make sure you never came to regret choosing this life with him. That you would continue to choose to stay with him, to choose him over the home planet you were so desperate to leave. He made a promise, and he intended to keep it. 

After landing on Nevarro a few days later to return his bounty, Din’s plan began to unfold. He walked out of the run-down cantina Karga liked to meet up at – insisting that he was going to fix it up and make it ‘a place of gathering’ – the spills of his hunt clanking against the mechanical chip he had tucked away in the satchel that sat on his belt. A chip that, if missing, would cause systems in the cockpit to go offline. 

Something his mechanic would find during her daily diagnosis check. 

Din felt a pang of guilt at the thought of you being buried arms deep in the underside of the control panel with no hope of finding the repair, because he was the one to take it from you... But then he thought about the worser fate; what if you figured out what was missing, and had more reason to dislike him than before? His guilt quickly turned into slight panic, making haste to get back to his ship to enact his plan before your clever brain could figure out what he’d done. 

When he returned to the Crest, the harshness of the metal hull was almost overwhelming. You had started taking down your tapestries and decorations, save for everything but the “time-out” corner, and it felt cold. You didn’t come out to greet him or welcome him back, let alone acknowledge him at all. You hadn’t done so since the time your conversation had taken a turn for the worst. He did, however, hear a loud metal clang and your familiar grunt of frustration from exactly where he assumed you would be. He wondered if you had even heard him come on board… 

Din quietly discarded his weapons before stealthily moving to the ladder just below the cockpit, stopping in his tracks when he heard a slew of colorful curses leave your lips. He waited a few moments until the sounds of your hard work continued, none-the-wiser to his oncoming ambush. 

By the time he reached the top of the cockpit, he took a moment to assess the situation and figure out the best approach. You were exactly where he thought you would be, laying on your back just to the side of his pilot’s chair, agile hands fiddling with different cables and boards inside his instrument panel…

And your head snapped up to look at him when he made the door to the cockpit slide closed behind him. 

You stared at Din for a couple moments before you opened your mouth. “Did you… are you cornering me?” When you put it that way, this was not going quite as he’d imagined, despite everything going according to plan. He had to keep going. 

“You’re ignoring me,” he said firmly, his tone reminiscent of one he took with his bounties. 

“Fucking maker, did you hunt me?” You asked with furrowed brows, and your slightly agitated tone made him fairly certain you didn’t actually need his answer. “I live on the same kriffing ship, and you had to treat me like one of your bounties just to say something to me?” 

“I had to talk to you. You wouldn’t let me,” he pressed, keeping his voice steady. You gave a huff of indignation. 

“I don’t have time for this, Mando, I have to fix your ship,” you threw at him before your body thumped dramatically on the ground as you went back to your work. 

“So you are angry at me,” Din stated, sounding more like an observation than a question. He could work with angry. You shot him a glare without moving too much from your position, and he took that as a good enough indicator to continue his interrogation. “Did I do something to upset you?” 

“Mando…” you started, his moniker leaving your lips in an exasperated sigh, not without a flame of annoyance lurking behind it. 

“Don’t make another excuse. I’m tired of avoiding this.” He watched the bluntness of his words hit you, not surprised when you furrowed your brows as you started to slide out from under the console, sitting up to scowl at him properly. 

“Another- what? I didn’t make any fucking excuses, I’m not avoiding anything,” you fired off, your tone indicating the exact opposite of what you were saying. 

“Then why have you stopped talking to me?” Din expected another fiery response, but instead a split-second of realization crossed over your face before it was replaced with one of irritated confusion. It made him — him, the stone-cold Mandalorian bounty hunter — shift on his feet. 

“I stopped talking to you?” You countered, and you waited a moment to let him respond… but he didn’t know what you expected him to say. “Right, because you’ve been super talkative after ‘there’s nothing to report’,” you mumbled, and it caused those same words to ring in his head from the night everything went wrong. You had said them so coldly…

After he had said them to you. 

“I- I meant no offense,” he tried a little lamely, still not understanding where he had gone wrong, but wanting more than anything for you to understand that he was willing to fix it. “I didn’t have anything to say.” You gave another sigh, but this one was softer, like you were about to level with him. It was progress, if nothing else. 

“Nothing? You couldn’t give me the details of your hunt the same way I tell you about the market? I mean, it’s not as exciting as I make it out to be, I just... “ You trailed off and looked away from him without finishing your sentence, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. He was finally getting answers out of you, he was going to get to the bottom of this, and make good on his promise to keep you happy. This was the way. 

He was quick to kneel in front of you, trying to get closer to your level to get away from his interrogation tactic, and communicate that he was willing to listen and receive. “You just what? Help me understand.” 

You scoffed a laugh as you shook your head. “There’s not a lot to understand. I like talking with you, I like when we share stories. I just… I wanted to be close with you.” 

Din wanted to bang his head against the wall. With or without his helmet. This all started because he was an idiot who didn’t know how to talk? He was a bounty hunter, he should have been smarter than that. He should have been able to tell what had caused such a shift, and been able to fix it before the mission could go sideways. 

But, in all fairness, he was a bounty hunter who was used to being alone. 

Before Din had lucked into having you travel the galaxy with him on his hunts, he came back to an empty ship. There was nobody else to talk about the day with. And after living amongst the Mandalorians, a people of few words, he wasn’t exactly in the habit of speaking to himself or others. Before you, everything that surrounded Din was just… quiet. 

“But… this is just professional, I get that now. I’ll stay out of your way, and I won’t pry. It is your ship, after all.” 

And he was about to get himself into even more trouble if he didn’t figure out how to speak right fucking now. 

“No,” he started firmly, desperately catching on to the tail end of your admission, but not entirely sure what was about to come out of his mouth. “This isn’t- I don’t… I’m not good at talking.” Strong start Djarin. 

“What?” You asked softly. If anything, you pretty much justified his statement. He took a breath to try and steady himself, to dig through the chaos inside his head and find a half-way coherent string of words to offer you, to clean up his mess. 

“Mandalorians are quiet. Bounty Hunters keep to themselves. I’m not used to talking,” he reiterated, and he watched your confused expression shift gently into one of intrigue, your sign for him to keep going. “I wasn’t trying to shut you out, I just… didn’t know what else to say. I’m used to sparing people any details that aren’t deemed necessary. Now I know that I shouldn’t do that with you. I’m sorry.” 

Din was pleased to find a small smile growing at the corners of your mouth. “I mean… You don’t have to give me every detail. Just the good stuff,” you smiled, making Din’s heart feel warm. He didn’t realize how much he missed the radiance of your smile until now, feeling like he was finally stepping into the sun after spending so long in the dark. 

“Just the good stuff… So I’ll tell you how much blood there was when I-”

“No, no thanks,” you cut him off quickly, making a fake gagging sound as he laughed under his helmet. “I take it back, let’s go back to no more talking, I’m good. I’ll just stay up here with all my busted circuits, thank you very much.” 

“Please don’t, I can’t go back to quiet,” he said quickly, the smile still plastered on his face as the weight of his words hit both of you.

I can’t go back to quiet.

It was true, he couldn’t. The past few minutes talking with you again, even when you were angry and yelling at him half of the time, had him feeling better than he had in days. 

“Oh yeah?” You offered, and he could tell by your knowing smile that you had come to the same realization that he did. You knew how much he had come to need you. “You don’t want a break from all my rambling?” 

“Never,” he admitted. Din watched your shoulders relax and your soft smile get brighter as his answer left his helmet, and he realized how much you needed him in return. It made a warmth bloom from deep within his chest, warming him all the way out to the very coldest parts of his Beskar armor. “Never stop. I want you to fill this ship with all your stories, real or exaggerated.” 

It caught him by surprise when you leapt up from your spot on the ground to meet his height, flinging your arms around his neck as you held him tight, fitting together perfectly even as you knelt on the floor in front of each other. With only a little hesitation, Din wrapped his gloved hands around you, arms circling your waist and pulling you flush against the plates of his armor, and soaked up everything that was you. 

This is the way. 

Sooner than he would’ve liked, he felt your grip around his neck loosen, and you leaned back to lock you gaze with his dark visor. 

“As much as I’d love to catch up, your ship is driving me crazy and I have got to figure out how to get these control panels back online,” you explained, and Din slowly started to realize he hadn’t thought this part through. 

“Well, I uh…” 

“You’re welcome to stay and chat, if you’re in the talking mood. I’d love to hear about your meeting in town,” you offered playfully, sending him a wink as you began to shuffle yourself back down under the open compartment of his shift. 

Instead, he got down on the ground and laid himself next to you, as if he was going to look at what you were doing with the repairs. Your hands stopped mid-action as you looked at him, and he enjoyed the airy laugh that escaped you at his actions. 

“Or you can watch from here, that’s fine, too.” 

“I was actually going to offer a suggestion,” he started timidly. You turned away from him as you focused on the wires in front of you again. 

“I'll take anything you’ve got. I haven’t seen anything like this in ages… I’ve only got one idea left, but I doubt it’s right. It’s like the reactor chip is missing, but the only way that thing would’ve even budged is if someone-” You stopped in your tracks as Din lifted a gloved hand into your peripheral view, the small reactor chip held between his fingers for you to see. 

You paused a moment before turning your head dangerously towards your companion. He could see the corners of your lips twitching as you did everything you could to avoid a smile, and he remained grateful for his helmet as it hid his beaming face from view. 

You snatched the chip from his hand and looked back to your circuits. “Get out of my cockpit,” you said quietly, the last few words of your threat lost to your laughter. Din couldn’t stop his own laughter from coming through the modulator as he began getting up from the floor to do as he was told. “You’re making the ration packs tonight,” you added, the smile on your cheeks evident in your voice. 

"This is the way."

Thanks for reading!! If you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic, be sure to follow @writerlyhabits-library + turn on post notifications! 💛

[saturno-sol]

In Whisper, Ivory has a lil crew of mercenaries. Aside from name, species, and the fact that that the big one is a... what did you call him, hillbilly anarchist? I know nothing of them. Who are they? Where are they from? Why are they here?

(Btw no rush to answer, take your time n feel free to only address part of the questions. It cn be a lot to ask for four character descriptions in one ask)

Well sure! I can answer some of that.

The crew of mercenary bounty hunters are called the Wasteland Hunters, consisting of four bugs and Ivory and Rueby.

Sheset the Hooded Mantis (She/Her) was actually the first one to join up and insist Ivory work with her. She had heard of the fabled Whisper of the Wastes fighting against the lawlessness of the Wastes and decided to find out if the rumors were true. Her motives to become a bounty hunter are muddied because of the Wastes magic, but she knows that her old place of living is gone now and that this is her way of trying to redeem herself for it. She’s the party’s medic but also dabbles in poisons and will help Ivory with reconnaissance when needed.

Knoriq the Trilobite Beetle (he/him) is the second to join because he believed it was quick cash and he had nothing better to do, plus beating up people is a fun activity to do. He came from a mountain village that prioritized usefulness and when they decided he wasn’t because of his amputated arm he left (but not after chewing out everyone and anyone about it first). He’s the muscle of the group, usually helping in crowd control if there's a larger group of bandits as well as the resident mechanic. He calls Ivory boss less as respect and more as a pet name, and Ivory knows he’s teasing them for it. (Knoriq and Ivory are in a very casual fwb relationship)

Shrub and Bush the Aphids (she/he for both) were born in… you guessed it, a shrub, no a bush! They argue constantly about the logistics of their hatching place much to the exasperation of the others. Before joining the Hunters they used to be petty thieves trying to squeak out any living they could by swindling bugs out of their geo or provisions. However after Ivory gave them a scare by being vaguely threatening to them (they’re teens, so Ivo went easy on them) they were starstruck and decided to follow them and demanded to join as a “change of heart.” They love playing cards and cheating at cards and betting the other to do idiotic things or poke fun at Rueby and almost die by her little hands. They act as scouts and spies due to their small size and swiftness.

[creativename87]

no wait wait please please I have so many

Tearjerker movies: - I want to eat your pancreas y

Tearjerker movies part two - A silent voice x

Tearjerker movies part three - Your Name x

(^ all romance and animated beautifully. best animation would be your name, and while I love it, the best plot would be i want to eat your pancreas but my god are they all so good)

Tragedy/war anime with a protagonist many consider to be better than Light Yagami in both charisma and intelligence (like if you hate Light you'll probably love him, if you love Light you'll probably love him) like he's the highest-rated character on my anime list if that matters to anyone- no? well it matters to me. great cast, and the mind games in it are amazing. The ending is the best I've ever seen- it's a story revolving around our main protagonist Lelouch Lamperouge as he decides to mecha fight with a bunch of mind games and war planning his way and becomes the leader of a group of terrorists working to overthrow the oppressive government who have taken over japan. But his best friend joins the opposite side and tries to defeat the system from the inside, working in it to change it. Due to the fact that they both wear masks, neither knows the other's identity. And yes, they have so much sexual tension it isn't even funny. We have a bunch of other characters and lots of secret identity stuff while also a bunch of other stuff (do you see me absolutely struggling not to spoil anything?) anyway it's a great show if anything I said sounds compelling to you, you should watch it -- code geass (there's a lot of nudity and gore though so keep that in mind while watching-- also I've been told by my ex-friend when i tried to get them to watch this that the animation was bad-- you do get used to it and it's totally worth it) y

A mix of jazz-funk, western style American television shows, space sci-fi, noir, and so many more, with an amazing ending, compelling characters, and a very potent theme that can speak heavily to people who are struggling with depression or who can't let go of the past - it revolves around a group of bounty hunters who all have some ache left behind from their past as they try to make ends meet by taking any bounty that comes their way-- cowboy bebop (it can be very episodic though, so if you aren't a fan of that type of storytelling keep that in mind) y

Found family, great characters, an amazing plot, a really good ending, and just an absolute joy to watch. If you haven't heard of it, it revolves around an underdog class who's been ostracized by their school and the very powerful alien teacher who comes into the classroom to teach them. The government, believing that the students have a better shot assassinating the teacher than they do (since the teacher says he'll blow up the planet in one year) put a huge bounty on the alien and task the class with killing him in any way they can. It's really fun and I highly recommend it-- Assassination Classroom xy

I can't say much at all since it would count as a spoiler but if you're curious please please watch just the first three episodes of it, trust me you'll understand what I mean -- Puella magi madoka magica xy

A comedy that plays upon anime troupes and is one of the funniest things I've watched. Not only that but characters who were initially introduced as stereotypes of the genre become full fleshed-out characters and not only begin to grow on you, but you begin to fall in love with them. The relationship they build together is absolutely amazing and it's way less serious than most of the other anime on this list and still manages to get you connected and invested in these characters and their little found family -- The Disastrous Life of Saki K. y

And that's it. I have others but uh I'd rather not over pile you (I already wrote a lot-- very sorry about that! I just like writing about animes I like I guess) if you do watch any of them please please talk to me please I love all of these so much, and they're really diverse so i feel like there's something for you in here :D

Below is what types of ending each anime has (whether they're good or bad) so if that's something important to you, you can keep reading. if not, then I'd recommend just going into whichever one you find interesting

all the titles i end with x is sad ending

y is happy ending

and xy is bittersweet.

and for one anime I put x even though it's really a more bittersweet ending (code geass) i think you'll see why

hello may i ask you guys to recommend me some anime to watch i already finished thousand autumns

[five-rivers]

Three Twilights

Can be considered a loose sequel to Deep Sea Diver (same vibes).

Warnings: Soft body horror, Danny totally ignoring objectively horrifying things

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“I was thinking,” started Maddie over breakfast, “we could start observations of that island that came into view last week, the blue one.”

Danny shook his head. “You’ll have to use the Speeder, then,” he said. “I’ve got an errand to run.”

There was a pause as both of Danny’s parents looked at him, confused. He didn’t blame them. Danny rarely went out as a human anymore, and certainly not for anything like errands. Looking like he was still fourteen after all this time made doing anything even remotely official difficult.

But this wasn’t a human errand. “Yeah,” said Danny. “In the Ghost Zone. I’ve got to go to Three Twilights.”

“Where?” asked Jack.

“It’s, um, a city,” said Danny. “Well, three cities, I suppose, depending on how you want to group them. One Realm. On the shores of the Celestial Sea. I’m sure I’ve put it in your files.” Probably a direct copy from his files from before he came clean to them, but still. He stirred his cereal counterclockwise, letting his ice powers chill the milk.

“Yes,” said Maddie, “but there are a lot of places in there. I’m not sure we’ve had a chance to properly look at them all, much less memorize them.”

“Okay, yeah,” said Danny. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What kind of errand are you running, Danno?”

“I’m picking something up for a friend. A book,” he clarified. “They lent it to someone there, but they need it back.”

“A book,” said Maddie. “For the Library of Tongues?”

“No, they’ve got a contract service for overdue loans.”

“Contract service?” asked Jack.

“Yeah. Moonlighting bounty hunters mostly.”

“For a library?”

“I don’t know what to tell you,” said Danny, shrugging. “They’re really serious about their work.”

“If it isn’t for them, who is it for?” asked Maddie. “The princess? Wulf?” Wulf had actually been over a few times, and his parents had… Well, saying they got along would be an overstatement, they didn’t really have anything in common beyond ripping portals in the fabric of the universe, but everyone had been civil. “The boy at the school?”

“No,” said Danny. “Wulf would just get it himself.”

“Who, then?” pressed Maddie.

Danny put a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, delaying. Maddie hadn’t eaten anything since Danny had mentioned the errand. The errand was, in fact, for Clockwork. Danny was always more than happy to do anything for Clockwork. The older ghost had saved him too many times for him to be otherwise. But Jack and Maddie were wary of Clockwork. Danny didn’t get it, but talking about it hadn’t been productive so far.

He didn’t want to lie to his parents. Not ever again.

“It’s for Clockwork,” he said.

Ah, yes, there were those suspicious looks. The ones Danny could have interpreted even without being able to almost literally taste emotions.

“I see,” said Maddie.

“Anyway,” said Danny, quickly, “if I haven’t shown you Three Twilights yet, it’s really cool. I don’t want to take the full rig, but maybe the little ectocam would be okay? The one that I can clip on.”

“Why not the normal camera with an ectofilter?” asked Jack. “That has more features, and it’s easier for us to get data from.”

“Three Twilights. It’s dark there,” said Danny. “It might work in Civila, but not so much in Naŭtika and Astronomia, and I sort of want to go down to the beach and see if I can find any star pearls, and that’s really dark, so if you want to see anything properly, it’ll have to be the sonar setup, which I’m not doing, the noises that thing makes are offensive, or the ectocam.”

“And the Fenton Phones?” asked Maddie.

“Sure,” said Danny. “But I always bring those.”

“Yes,” said Maddie, after a moment. “You do.”

“Great. It’s settled, then.”

.

Most of the journey to Three Twilights could be made by air. Or, rather, what passed for air in the Infinite Realms. But when the rocky edge of an island came into view, Danny touched down. Further in was a blue wood, and Danny walked under its inviting branches.

The atmosphere started sunny, summery. The leaves and needles of the trees were the color of a clear blue sky. But as he got deeper, the leaves were touched with sunset colors: golds, reds, oranges, purples, and pinks. They fell to the ground, crunching beneath Danny’s feet. The sunset grew longer, deeper. The leaves on the trees grew sparser, revealing patches of sky.

By the time only bare branches framed the sky, it was a dusky, dim, purple. A few lonely stars twinkled in the sky.

He passed out of the forest. The city of Civila rose above him. Windows glowed in the near dark like eyes.

Danny had changed, too. His aura had dimmed. The whites of his suit were now dark gray, and patterns swirled on its surface like camouflage, like wind-twisted clouds, like nebulae.

Shadows bled around the corners of the city buildings like ink in water. Will-o-the-wisps bobbed, casting pools of illumination in lieu of streetlamps. Ghosts walked up and down the streets, or floated only a few meters up.

The buildings glittered. Everything was dark, vibrant, colors. A sharp, sweet scent filled the air, something dark and rich beneath it.

The canals in the center of the street were filled with flashing fish. Or perhaps serpents. Or perhaps worms. Between how fast they moved and the dimness of the light, it was difficult to tell.

Danny could feel his irises contracting, shrinking down to needle-thin rings. His teeth were sharp. He matched the other ghosts around him. This was how the Civila liked it, how things were in this part of Three Twilights.

Everything in order. Everything peaceful. Everything civil.

Danny walked through the market square, and bought some charcoal-colored cherry pastries from a vendor who looked like someone’s nightmare demon with a chip of ghost ice.

Much to his parents’ protests. They didn’t care for him eating ghost food.

There were seven bridges to Naŭtika, which was built half underwater and half on boats that floated both on the water and in the air. As the dark waters of the inlet lapped at his feet, Danny felt the changes ripple across his skin. To a human, he would look pure black, except for the faintest glimmer of rim lighting and the stars of his eyes. He and the other ghosts moved silently, cutting through the waters like shadows.

To Danny’s ghostly senses, the place was alive with emotion and force, energy loud and crackling against his senses.

“We’re solely on the ectocam, now,” said Maddie. “You were right about that.”

“Mhm,” said Danny, half distracted by a whispered sea-shanty backed by a choir of not-voices and not-sound that wove together with the mastery of a hundred years of practice.

He glided up a rope net, and began to navigate the ropes to the taller ships. The very tallest, the ones that scraped the ever-darkening sky and blotted out uneven sections of stars, moored the glass-like ships that floated above. He’d need to reach them, to get to Astronomia.

“What’s that?” asked Maddie, breaking his concentration on his path.

“What’s what?” asked Danny, whisper soft, drawing some looks. He turned, slowly, on the spot, planks barely creaking under his steps. A gentle wind ruffled his hair.

“There,” said Maddie. “By the ghost that’s registering red.”

It had taken Danny a long time to learn what color on the ectocam’s artificial sensor signified what, but he had, if only to reduce the guessing when they played this game.

“Star pearls,” said Danny, eyeing the ropes of stone that glimmered brighter than his eyes currently did. They were one of the only reliable forms of light, out on the Celestial Sea, although they were valued for other things, too.

“They’re putting out a massive amount of energy,” said Maddie.

“You mentioned them before,” said Jack. “You wanted to look for some?”

“On the shore,” said Danny. “Out past Astronomia.” He wanted to find his own, rather than buy them.

Partially because they were expensive. He didn’t really want to think about how much unmelting ice he’d have to conjure up to equal one of them. They were usually bartered in exchange for… more significant things.

The ghost by the pearls beckoned him closer, clearly hoping to make a sale. Danny shook his head, broadcasting regret and admiration for his wares. Speech might be faster but, under these circumstances, it would not be polite.

When Danny left, the social rules of Three Twilights would only leave the faintest impression on his mind. But, for now, they were a heavy, but not uncomfortable weight. One he could shrug off if necessary, but which was currently useful.

“What are they?” asked Maddie, as Danny turned away.

“They happen when big enough things fall into stars,” said Danny. “They’re all the memories of what they used to be… and the imagination of what they could become, when the star dies. Well, that’s what they’re supposed to be. I don’t think anyone really knows for sure.”

“And you can just… find these? Lying around?”

“Not… not really,” said Danny, slowly drifting towards a crow’s nest. “It’s like that one national park. That one where you can collect diamonds? You never really find anything good, but you can look.”

“I see,” said Maddie. “So, you don’t expect to find one?”

“Yes and no,” said Danny. “If I don’t expect to find one, I probably won’t. Unless the sea is feeling ironic, which it usually is, apparently. I mean, it’s an ocean and the stars. And prophecy is, like, ninety percent irony, but mostly for an outside observer. Which honestly makes sense, I think. An observer, not an Observant. Those are different things.”

The kind of silence on the other side of the line was the one that emerged when Danny used too much ghost logic.

“Anyway,” he continued as he scaled the crow’s nest and started traversing the glass ropes and chains to the all-but-invisible glass ships, “no, I don’t really expect to.”

The path to Astronomia was a staircase carved from moonstone harvested in October, when the moon was full and orange-red. It burned Danny’s eyes to look at and feet to walk upon. Like many ghosts who fixated on things like astronomy, he adapted quickly and thoroughly to the spiritual dark.

This darkest twilight was built of delicate bubbles, whorls, and arches of glass, any of which could cradle a ghost, all of which could be phased through with impunity. There were no true roads here, but certain places were easier to travel through. Addresses were carved in the glass in glimmering, holographic sigils made from glass-caught starlight that humans would never be able to read, but Danny could understand with a glance. It was not silent in Astronomia, the high wind sung through the glass like the immense instrument it was, playing ethereal and eternal music that mirrored heaven.

As always, Danny was enraptured. Perhaps the stars here were not true stars, only their memory and imagination (or simulacra made from stripped ghost cores, he remembered with a shudder), but he felt so close here.

“Danny? Are you still with us?”

Danny started to reply, but realized he had forgotten, once again, that he had no mouth here.

A phantabulist played a story for a group of not-quite-children, characters made of carefully constructed light chasing each other about with vigour. Danny stopped for a while to watch the story, a parable about spiders and fish. They were common here, storytellers who plied their craft this way. The stories could be pressed into glass prisms and orbs that served as books and viewed even in other environs of the Ghost Zone.

He moved on, passing through a glass bubble full of ghosts that snatched at and stroked him as he passed by, leaving stars and dark clouds to swirl across his skin. His suit had long since smoothed over and sunk in. His skin was a thin surface, a membrane holding in liquid night. He was like smoke, like vapour, thin and easily overlooked.

The places he passed were homes, places of business, warehouses, and hotels, organized without any apparent reason. A phantabularium glowed like a struck match, snatches of story visible inside its walls. He walked by.

Eventually, he reached the palace at the city center.

The ghost who lived there was old. Older, perhaps, than Pandora. She filled the vessels of her palace in placid pools connected by crystalized threads and looping tubes. Seven round-bottom flasks, radiating outward, like the spheres of heaven. The music here was almost deafening.

This was Urania, Muse of Astronomy. Astronomia was her city, and subordinate to her will before all else.

Danny resisted the urge to kneel. He was not here as a supplicant, and they both knew it.

The lowest pool bubbled, and slowly a glass prism, a dodecahedron, floated to the top. Danny took it with careful hands and left Urania’s direct presence as quickly as possible.

Being near her was always difficult. She was the Muse of Astronomy, and she felt he did not indulge his second Obsession as much as was proper.

Indeed, she thought it should be his first.

(The starlight inside him pulsed. He was never sure how much influence Urania could exert on him when he visited Three Twilights, never sure how much the relationship between his passions shifted when he was here. He loved it here too much to stay away forever.)

Astronomia did not end all at once. Instead, as one walked farther from the palace, the delicate, clear glass was replaced by black sand. When Danny had feet again, and could feel the grains beneath them, he knew he was no longer in Astronomia, but on the Shores of Night. The Isles of the Moon were faintly visible in the distance, sea-spray framing them in silvery halos.

He felt human here. His breath moved in his lungs, and his skin rose in goosebumps, the sleeves of his t-shirt fluttering in the wind. The sea and the sky were the same, and twice as beautiful for it.

“Sorry for going silent on you there,” said Danny. “I keep forgetting I don’t have a mouth there.”

“How do you forget that?” asked Jack.

“I don’t know.” Danny shrugged, even though he knew Jack couldn’t see him. “Do you think the ectocam might be able to spot buried star pearls?”

[justaself-shipper]

Yandere!Golden Guard x Reader x Yandere! Edric Blight- Golden Psychopathic Lovers

Request by @fLoweRcaSe00 on Wattpad It was a new year at Hexside. Another year of school for Y/N. Clutching her books tightly, her nervous mind fluttered to all the terrible things that could happen on her first day back. She jumped as she felt a hand tap her shoulder. “Hey kitten. Been a while, hasn’t it?” A smooth voice whispered into her ear. Turning around, Y/N lets out a sigh of relief when she realised who it was. “Oh, hi Edric! Has been a while, hasn’t it? About two weeks?” Edric smiled at the H/C girl in front of him, humming in response. As the two chatted, a certain human walked up behind Y/N, covering her eyes. “Guess who?” She giggled. Y/N gasped. “The Grim Reaper! You’ve finally come for me!” The two girls giggled, as Luz removed her hands from her eyes. “Close!” While they interacted, Luz glanced over her shoulder to see Edric glaring darkly at her. A little unnerved, she waves as she gave an awkward smile. “Hey Edric! How’ve you been? C’mon, give me a high-five!” Holding up her hand, she chuckled nervously when Edric refused, simply staring at her with an evil glare. “Don’t leave me hanging??” Y/N took it upon herself to high-five the human. “Ok! Luz and I gotta be getting to class Edric. See you after school?” The green-haired witch finally smiled, his dark attitude disappearing for a moment as he talked to Y/N. “Of course kitten! See you then!” Y/N waved goodbye, grabbing Luz’s hand as they headed to class. Luz felt her face heat up when her witch crush did so. Yes, Y/N was Luz’s crush. She tried covering her face as they walked. This didn’t go unnoticed by the Blight twin, though. Watching them go, he growled to himself. “You won’t get a chance to be with Y/N, Luz. I’ll make sure of that.” Luz and Y/N had just finished their first two classes, and were making their way to the cafeteria. Edric watched them enter, observing how Luz blushed whenever Y/N smiled, or laughed aloud. Eyes narrowing, he felt his sister place a hand on his shoulder. “Hey Ed, you ok? You’re spacing out again.” Smiling at his sister, he replied that he was fine, probably just sick. Emira didn’t really believe him, but let him be. Back with Luz and Y/N, they had sat down with Willow, Gus and Amity. As the gang laughed and chatted, Y/N felt something land in her hair. Another table erupted into laughter as Boscha threw more of her lunch, this time hitting Willow. “Oops, sorry weirdos! Just practising for Grudgby! And you happen to be my target!” Throwing another part of her lunch, Luz huffed angrily. “Didn’t she learn her lesson last time?!” The bell went off, signifying the end of lunch. Sighing, Y/N got up. “I’m just gonna go clean myself up. You guys can just go ahead to class. Willow, do you wanna come with?” Willow nodded shyly, still glancing over to the pink-haired demon witchling. Boscha glared back at her, smirking. Luz stood up as well. “I’ll come too! I can help!” She yelled eagerly. Laughing, Y/N and Willow let her come. After leaving the bathroom, Y/N let Luz and Willow head back to class while she went for her lockers. Upon arriving, Boscha was leaning against it, throwing a rock up and down in one hand. “Heya nerd, thought you needed some company.” She smirked, throwing the rock at the H/C-coloured witch. Y/N lifted her arms for protection, dropping her belongings. Boscha let out a laugh. “Here, let me help you with that-“ “Boscha, Principal Bump wants to talk to you immediately.” The two female witched looked up to see Edric. Y/N was relieved. Boscha scoffed. “What does he want me for? What did I do?” Edric only smiled. “He says it’s important. Now, would you please follow me?” He says kindly, walking away. Boscha shrugs, following the Blight. Y/N picked up the rest of her books, rushing away to her class. “So, what does Bump want me for? And where are we going?” Boscha says. Edric smirked. All was going according to plan. “Just in this room right here.” He says, stopping as he held open a door. Boscha looked inside, scrunching her nose at the smell. “Why this room? And where’s-“ She was cut off as Edric pushed her in. She let out a yelp as she stumbled, catching herself in time as she turned angrily towards the Blight twin. “What the hell?! Who do you thi-“ “Just someone who’s gonna make you pay for hurting my kitten.” Edric smirked darkly, producing a flame in one hand. Boscha gasped, backing up. “Th-that’s not real! You’re an illusionist! It can’t hurt me!” She shrieked. Edric’s smirk didn’t falter, advancing on the witchling he brought it closer to her face. Boscha’s face paled as she felt the heat come closer and closer. “Does it feel like an illusion to you?~” After school was finished, Y/N was on her way back home. She glanced around nervously. Boscha was no where to be seen, but seeing as she’d pretty much harassed her a few hours before…it kinda put her on edge. Watching all the students walk by, she waited patiently for Edric. After seeing he wasn’t coming, she let out a sigh. Maybe he was busy? It didn’t matter. I’ll just head home by myself. Walking along the streets of Bones Marrow, she glanced around at the residents. Busy marketers yelled out their products to passerby’s, while demon and bounty hunters wondered the streets, glaring at anyone stupid enough to get in their way. As she walked by a dark alley way, Y/N felt someone grab her arm roughly, pulling her into the darkness. She tried to scream, but a hand covering her mouth prevented her from doing that. Kicking and screaming into the hand, the monster hauled her away to an unknown location. She tried making a circle in the dirt underneath her, but failed miserably. “Hey!” Someone shouted off to the side, and Y/N only saw a golden mask before the monster holding her let out a grunt of pain, dropping her. Falling on her knees, Y/N scrambled to her feet, facing the monster and her saviour. The monster was lying on the ground, and her saviour was walking over to her. “Are you ok ma’am?” He asked kindly. Y/N immediately knew who he was, bowing down on one knee. “Th-thank you, Golden guard! How can I repay you?” She stuttered. The Golden guard was silent for a while, looking down curiously at the witchling at his feet. Smirking under his mask, he held out his hand. “Well, you can start by calling me Hunter Darl.” He said. Y/N took his hand shakily, blushing a bit at the nickname. “And may I know your name, m’lady?” “I-i’m Y/N. Y/N L/N.” She replied back, feeling a little more comfortable in the mans presence. Hunter looked around for a bit. “You on your way back home? Maybe I could assist you? Make sure you get back safe and sound.” He offered. Y/N nodded her head eagerly, not wanting to be left alone again. The two headed off, leaving the dead body behind them. “Thank you for walking back, Hunter.” Y/N said shyly. The two had just arrived back at the L/N manor, and were about to part ways. Hunter waved his hand about. “No problem. Anything for a cutie like you.” Y/N felt a flush on her cheeks, and she smiled. Leaning forward, she placed a hand on Hunter’s mask. “May I?” After a moment of hesitation, he nodded. Taking off the mask, Y/N gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Nice to finally see my saviour’s face.” She giggled, running off up the steps and inside the house. Hunter felt his heart flutter, his eyes widening in adoration as he watched the female witchling run up the steps and out of view. “So, you helped my kitten get home safely. Well done. You can go now.” Hunter turned to see a green-haired male witch walk out of the shadows, glaring daggers into him. A little taken aback, Hunter smirked at the newcomer. “And you’d be?” “Edric Blight. Now run along Golden guard. You wouldn’t want to become a part of my list.” He smiled maliciously. Hunter wasn’t scared so easily. Walking away, he smirked at the Blight. “See you tomorrow Blight.” Watching the guard go, Edric scowled. Guess there’ll be another body to bury later. The next morning… Y/N walked out of the her home, smiling widely at the boy waiting out front for her. “Edric! I’m so glad you’re here! Where were you last night? I waited outside Hexside for you, but you didn’t show!” Edric placed an arm around the female witchling’s waist. “Sorry kitten, I was…busy.” He said. Y/N blushed a little at the nickname, but kept her composure. “Oh, it’s fine! Just tell me next time, please?” Edric smiled. “Alright kitten." They finally reached school, and Y/N noticed a familiar blonde-haired witchling walking around Hexside, wearing a yellow uniform. He seemed to be glancing around for someone. She started frantically waving her arms, causing Edric to glance at her in concern. “HUNTER! HI!” The blonde witchling looked up, his face brightening as he spotted Y/N. Jogging over, he almost tripped as Y/N hugged him. “I can’t believe you’re here! I didn’t know you went to Hexside!” She exclaimed excitedly. Hunter blushed, scratching his neck for a minute. “Yeah uh, I just transferred from Glandus. So how are you this fine day, m’lady?” He questioned, as the H/C pulled away. Hunter glanced up to see Edric glaring at him. Edric leaned forward. “Well, sorry to interrupt kitten, but we gotta head to class-“ he said in the most innocent voice he could muster. Y/N shrugged, looking at the clock in front of the school. “Well, we still have 10 minutes. There’s no need to rush Edric! We have plenty of time!” She said. Before Edric could say anything else, Luz came up to the group. “Hey guys! Y/N! You’ll never guess what I found on my way to school!” She shrieked, jumping up and down in excitement. Y/N tilted her head curiously, walking over to the human. “What is it? A new demon? Ooh! Another hide-out?!” Luz blushed, grinning widely. “It’s a surprise! I’ll show you tonight after school! Meet me here after last period?” She asked. Y/N nodded her head excitedly. “Of course!” The bell went off, and Y/N gasped. “Oh shoot! We gotta go! See you after school Edric! See ya Hunter!” Y/N rushed, grabbing onto Luz’s hand as they ran off to class together. The two boys watched them go, filled with jealousy and hatred. “I see that there’s another rival.” Hunter muttered, and Edric hummed in agreement. Turning to the guard, he eyed him down. “Well, I guess I won’t be able to get rid of you. But maybe together, we can get rid of the human. That way, she won’t get in between us.” Hunter smirked. “Are you proposing we work together to win Y/N’s affection? Instead of against each other?” “Exactly. So?” “You’ve got yourself a deal, friend.” At lunch, Y/N, Luz, Gus, Willow and Amity were sitting together. Hunter came up to their table, glancing around nervously as he carried a notepad and pen. Reaching the table, he tapped Luz on the shoulder. “E-excuse me.” The human turned to him, smiling brightly. “Oh, hi! What can I do for you?” She asked. Hunter almost smiled at her innocent aura, but kept himself under control. “I-uh, I’m doing an assignment on heroic figures, and since you’re the one who saved Eda the Owl lady at the petrification ceremony, i wanted to ask if I could interview you?” He asked nervously, giving a small, hopeful smile to Luz. Luz was thrilled with the idea. “Of course! When would you like to do it!” “W-would right now be too much?” “Of course not!” Standing up, Luz announced that she’d be back soon. Walking out of the cafeteria with Hunter, Edric followed a few minutes later, making sure no one saw as he left.

Y/N was waiting outside of Hexside once again. She sighed, watching all the students once again walk by. Yet, there was no human amongst them. Where was Luz? She said she’d be here! Two pairs of hands landed on Y/N’s shoulders. “What’s wrong kitten?” “You look upset Darl.” Y/N turned to the male witches. “Luz said she was going to show me something, but I guess she forgot all about me.” She said, hurt filling her voice. Edric wrapped a comforting arm around her. “Hey, it’s ok Kitten. If you want, we can show you our special place!” He said. Hunter looped his arm through hers. “Yeah! We found it together! How does that sound?” Y/N smiled gratefully at the two male witches. “Thank you Hunter. Thank you Edric. I would love to see it.” Walking along a forest path, Hunter and Edric kept the directions in mind as they made their way to “their” secret place. “Not far to go kitten.” Edric said. Entering a clearing, Y/N gasped at the sight of a small creek running through a cove. “It’s beautiful! Thank you guys!” She exclaimed, giving both boys a kiss on the cheek. Sitting by the creek, they peered up at the night sky. Edric and Hunter smirked to each other. Luz the human was very helpful. Getting the information out of the human was easy. Disposing of the body was the hard part.

A/N: OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO FREAKING CHEESY AND BAD AT THE SAME TIME I’M SORRY-

[danwhobrowses]

One Piece Chapter 1058 - Initial Thoughts

And we return again

Wano is in the books, and amazingly, we can't be 100% sure what arc we're heading to next. All we know is that the final saga is upon us, so stuff is about to begin to hit the fan even more than usual.

Spoilers for the Chapter, Support the Official Release

Starting with the cover page and it goes as you'd expect, Caesar wants Germa to take him with them. Doubt it's gonna be a better kind of captivity mind you, though he might be happy experimenting for the Evil Army and giving them weapons

As usual, Luffy is being punished for his recent death-defying stunt, trapped in an iron cage by Nami

Jinbe tries to laugh it off, but Nami's not letting up, giving Jinbe a trial by fire for the domestic Nakama life

It is funny though that Jinbe thinks Nami has Conqueror's Haki

New Bounties Time!

Luffy and 9 Commanders they say, reminder that Blackbeard has 10 Commanders

Cotton Candy Lover Chopper 100 -> 1000 berries, he's at least out of triple digits but it's still an undersale as I expected (though I was harsher at 500), strange though that the WG acknowledge he's a doctor but not up his bounty accordingly

Cat Burglar Nami 66m -> 366m berries, a monster upgrade from her, I only doubled it, but I guess her standing down Kaido did help her bounty increase, much to her horror

Soul King Book 83m -> 383m berries, another 300m addition, surprising though this one since he didn't do too much in Wano, maybe his actions in WCI got revealed at last? We don't see his picture which is weird

Cyborg Franky 94m -> 394m berries, sensing a pattern yet? Unique for Franky though is that his Bounty is the Sunny rather than his face or mech

God Usopp 200m -> 500m berries, the godhood continues, now Usopp's Enel level, though he is very intimidated by it

Devil Child Nico Robin 130m -> 930m berries, an 800m rise is among the largest of rises of the crew, and it's well overdue given how super low her bounty was, now she's in a Yonko crew her threat is higher I guess. Plus she gives Chopper some cotton candy to calm him

Black Leg Vinsmoke Sanji 330m -> 1.032b berries. a 990m increase puts the first wing of the Pirate King into billion tier, but he is dismayed that he is no longer the second highest bounty of the crew, literally flaming in anger

Knight of the Sea Jinbe 438m -> 1.1b berries, Jinbe's recent addition has seen his bounty nearly triple, this one is odd to me given how he worked for Big Mom beforehand and never got such a high bounty, then again he did escape BM's fleet (still need to know about that) so maybe that helped bolster it, Sanji though spares a moment to curse him out as well as the final one.

Pirate Hunter Zoro 320m -> 1,100,001,100 berries, I dunno how Oda decided on this number, I checked Binary conversions but nothing leaps out at me. Zoro is at least smug to be higher than Sanji, though scarring Kaido and defeating King would earn him that right

With Zoro now able to refer to him by rank number, the two squabble again as Luffy, 3b bounty Luffy, sits in a cage

Meanwhile, the other new Yonko isn't faring too well either

A beheaded Buggy begs Mihawk and Crocodile for his life, all while his unaware subordinates sing his praises

Seems that the Cross Guild was Crocodile and Mihawk's alliance specifically, and they don't take kindly to Buggy claiming all the glory

Even Mr. 3 is selling Buggy down the river, dude you forget that Crocodile wanted you dead since Little Garden

Even Buggy's main crew intents to side with Crocodile if he dies

Daz Bones doesn't seem to like that thought though

Mihawk flashes back to the origins of Cross Guild, with Crocodile calling him about his title being stripped and them teaming up. Seems once upon a time, Mihawk was the 'Marine Hunter'

Wouldn't say Mihawk doesn't trust anyone though, can't say that for Crocodile either mind you

Seems the misconception that Buggy is a part of the group comes from Crocodile bailing his island out from the marines, Crocodile only wanted capital from him but he was broke and already owed Crocodile money

As an alternative to being sold to slavery, Buggy offered his services and company to be Crocodile's foundation, only for his fandom of followers to market Buggy as the leader

Don't think I didn't spot the 'here it comes' meme either

Mihawk meanwhile only got roped into it because the Marines knew he was teaming with Crocodile

Cross Guild Bounties are out now too

Sir Crocodile 1.965b

Dracule 'Hawk Eye' Mihawk 3.59b, just over 500m less than Shanks' - who confirms, as if it wasn't already clear, to have better sword skills than Shanks

And for Buggy the Genius, 3.189b. Lower than Mihawk...

Ever the wise one, Mihawk however proposes an alternative to killing Buggy, and instead letting him be the figurehead

Mihawk has no ambitions to be a Yonko and at the least if people come they will go after Buggy rather than them, so he can be their sacrificial lamb

Finally we return to the Kambakka Kingdom, where the Revolutionaries reconvene

Sabo's not back but they're all happy to know he's safe, Dragon though is upset with rumors that he killed Cobra

Looks like there's a Skypeian on that table too...

Kuma sadly still is a mindless slave, as Dragon asks him to recount events

Wiretappers in the Navy have caught an outgoing signal to the kingdom, looks like Sabo's making a call

Ooof, break next week...

This was a nice palette cleanser of a chapter, mainly covering the bounties of the big players. I'm surprised they're so high really, everyone but Chopper got at least a 300m increase. Interested to see how Franky's poster comes into play too, should we start making Mecha Sunny theories? Or is it just a nod to bad timeline Franky becoming a sentient warship?

Surprised no titles were changed too, they felt overdue as my predictions post noted.

We didn't spend a lot of time with the Straw Hats really, which does help my slim hope that Carrot still stowed away, but it does feel like there's a bit more to cover.

We got the reality of the Cross Guild's formation, which is a lot more logical than Mihawk and Crocodile siding with Buggy. I do think Mihawk and Crocodile may be on their guard a lot though, Crocodile would betray Mihawk after all, Mihawk I think knows this but would just swat him away rather than backstab, dude just wants to live in peace it seems, waiting for Zoro to beat him.

Some really high bounties from them, Mihawk being higher than Buggy's still miffs me though, you'd suppose the bounty size would play a part in who is the Yonko after all.

But we cap it off with Sabo and the Revolutionaries, no real answers there but it seems like that's what we're doing next? Perhaps a Reverie II mini-arc? I think Sabo knows he's being wiretapped too, it would make the most sense to expose the WG by telling his side of the story publicly.

Sadly though the breaks have returned for Oda, a month off wasn't enough it seems XD Hopefully though all will be revealed soon

[watchmegetobsessed]

Dead Or Alive - Harry Styles

a/n: oof okay hello! this is a little different, i guess? but im very excited to share this with you! don’t ask me how i got the idea for this, no clue but it was stuck in my head for days before i finally gave in and started writing it. please share your thoughts and comments on it, i would love to read them!! hope you’ll enjoy it!

pairing: Wanted!Harry x BountyHunter!Reader

warning: violence, talks of drugs, murder, guns, i really lost track of it lol

word count: 15.2k

masterlist

The man in the handcuffs growls in pain again, but you just yank him forward, not in the mood to deal with a whining girl trapped in a six feet tall disgusting looking, oily-faced bald man in his forties.

“Y/N! What do we got today?” Jeremy greets you at the front desk, thumbs hooked into his belt as he watches you tug the guy into the hall of the station, pushing him down to the nearest seat as you step to Jeremy who is already handing you the paperwork.

“Dennis Delgado. Took me a few days to find him, but he couldn’t hide forever,” you grin proudly as you grab a pen and start filling the papers out.

Jeremy walks over to Dennis who just looks up at the officer in disgust. It’s not enough that he is a child molester disgusting prick, he is racist on top of everything and now Jeremy is enjoying having the higher ground, Dennis trapped in his handcuffs while Jeremy will be the one to get him behind bars for a long time.

“Nice one. We’ll have a lot of fun with this one,” Jeremy chuckles. “Want me to ring up your brother?”

“Is he in? Would love to have a word with him,” you nod smiling. When you’re done with the papers you hand them over to Stella, the receptionist who gets to work with them right away so you can get your money.

“Sure, I’ll get him for you on my way,” Jeremy nods, grabbing Dennis by his arm, pulling him along on his way to the elevators. “Come on you scumbag, you have a cell waiting with your name on it.”

The two of them disappear and you get into a little chit-chat with Stella while she is finishing up the paperwork. Leaning against the counter you look around, officers come and go in the hall, all of them dressed in their uniform and for a moment you picture yourself wearing the same outfit. At one point in your life it seemed to be part of your future, but now it would be the most ridiculous sight. Y/N, the best bounty hunter in the region in a police uniform? That’s not happening.

The elevator dings and your brother, Robert walks out. He on the other hand, made this vision happen. He has been an officer for about ten years now and though at first he was outraged that you chose the not so gracious lifestyle of a bounty hunter, but you soon became his unofficial partner, handing him over a wanted person every few days, making his work easier. Everyone at the station knows that Robert is the one who plays by the rules, doing everything according to the handbook, the perfect officer, always working to keep up the peace in town while you are… Well, you are a rebel. You could never play by the rules, always sneaking ways to do things according to your desires. You never liked if someone wanted to tell you what to do and how to do it, you are not a team player or either one that can easily managed by higher forces. It didn’t take long for you to realize your nature will never let you be an officer so you chose the other path that’s somewhere near joining the police, but still playing by your own rules.

Being a female bounty hunter wasn’t the easiest when you started off at the young age of seventeen. In desperate need of the extra money after the tragic passing of both your parents, the two of you had to get along on Robert’s slim, beginner paycheck. He was only twenty-three, started working at the station just a year prior, you knew you had to help him out. He kept bringing up cases, worked on them through the nights and when he passed you on the couch from exhaustion, you sneaked your way into the dining room and looked for easy targets. Speeding tickets, light drug trafficking, whatever you could deal with as a high schooler.

Robert hated the idea of you dealing with wanted people, you had endless fights about it, but you were too stubborn to stop and besides, you liked the adrenaline rush you got whenever you caught another one and brought them back to the station. Loved the stunned and shocked looks on the older officers when you managed to catch a bigger fish. It took Robert a few years to come to peace with your choice of lifestyle and now he doesn’t even try to talk you down. Instead, he keeps bringing you cases that pay well and he knows you’d like them.

“Who did you catch this time?” he grins at you, walking up to you and he envelopes you in a short hug.

“Just got Dennis Delgado, Jeremy took him.”

“Poor Dennis, he’ll have a rough evening,” Robert chuckles. “Did you get your money?”

“Stella is already working on it,” you nod towards the lady behind you.

“Oh, I’ve got you, Sweetheart,” Stella pushes herself back from her desk and walks over to you with an envelope filled with your reward.

“Amazing, thank you, Stella,” you grin at her happily. Dennis was worth a little more than the usual, you are well covered for the rest of the month thanks to him.

“Do you have something coming next?” Robert asks, hands on his hips as he watches you put the money away into your backpack.

“Not yet. Got something exciting for me?”

“An old friend,” he nods with a small smile. He reaches behind the counter and grabs a flyer, handing it over to you, a familiar face staring back at you from the photo this time.

Harry Styles is a name you’ve heard plenty of times and you know him well by now. You actually went to high school with him, you were just never in the same group. He was labeled as troubled all through his teenage years, his parents were brutally killed when he was just a kid, he was tossed around from one foster family to the other, moving around town every few months. It was no surprised when he got into some darker circles, he almost got kicked out of school right before graduation but somehow managed to stick around to get his diploma at the end.

You have actually handed him in a few times before. Never for anything bigger than drug trafficking or robbing smaller shops downtown, Harry is actually not as bad as people tend to portray him to be, he was just not blessed with the best background as most people. He is a smart guy and would never hurt anyone for real, this is why you are now staring down at his flyer shocked.

He is wanted for the murder of a local man who was found dead a few days ago in his home, Harry’s hair was found near the body with no other evidence.

“Are you sure about this?” you ask Robert with a concerned look. This doesn’t feel right. Not that you know Harry that well, but it’s very unlike him.

“Very much. His hair was the only thing we found near the body of Dave RIchards so evidently, he is our number one suspect.”

“I don’t know, this doesn’t sound right,” you think to yourself, staring down at the mug shot of him that was taken the last time you brought him in for selling weed to underage kids. You remember it exactly, because bringing Harry in is always… fun, if you could say that.

That last time, he was already expecting you, waiting around in his usual motel room that is somewhat considered as his home.

“My Y/N! You arrived earlier than I expected!” he greeted you when you kicked his door in. He was sitting in the middle of the double bed, rolling a joint as always, not a care in the world about your arrival.

“You knew I was coming?” you cocked your head to the side walking in and stopping at the end of the bed, watching him finish the joint and simply light it before taking a big puff.

“Of course. I was informed I’m on your list again, just thought you’d give me a few more hours, but it’s alright.” He waved around carelessly before holding out the joint in your way, offering you to try it.

“No thanks, I don’t trust your sketchy stuff.”

“That hurt!” he gasped dramatically, placing a hand to his tattooed chest that was partially on display since his shirts are never buttoned all the way up.

You brought him in that day, stopping for McDonald’s on your way to the station before handing him over to Robert. He was actually a great guy, nice sense of humor and good looks, you never thought otherwise, he was just moving around in different circles than you so you were left with the few jokes he always cracked when you took him in every few months.

“Well, it’s not your job to question his innocence. Want to take the job or not?” Robert asks you.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll find him,” you nod and fold the flyer, sliding it into your back pocket.

Normally, you take the rest of the day for yourself after turning someone in, but this situation with Harry just bugs you way more than to just go home and pretend like it’s not all you can think about. Harry is not a murderer, he would never randomly kill a man, he is not a psycho, just a guy with a rough background and some poor life decisions.

You know the route to the motel like the back of your hand. Arriving to the dodgy parking lot you park your car in the far end before taking one last look at the flyer. Then you push it into your backpack and get out, heading to Harry’s room with firm steps. You see no lights on, the door is closed and you almost don’t even get closer, thinking he is not here when you see someone move around inside.

You are almost at the door when a hand covers your mouth and an arm wraps around your body, pulling you back forcefully. It takes you a moment to recover from the shock as you are yanked backwards, but as you are being dragged towards the alleyway next to the motel you elbow your attacker in the stomach before kicking them in the knees. The hands fall from around you and turning around you pull out your pocket knife, ready to cut throats right away, but you are shocked to see Harry hunched over, groaning in pain as he holds his arm to his stomach.

“The fuck, Y/N?!” he growls, his chocolate curls falling forward, they’ve definitely gotten longer since the last time you saw him, he could easily put them up into a bun now. “What was that for?” he whispers in disbelief, his green eyes meeting yours in a scowl.

“What the fuck do you mean? You attacked me!”

“I didn’t attack you, I was trying to fucking save you!”

“From what?!”

“From the fucking asshole in my room who is four times bigger than you and would have probably shot you the moment you kicked my door in like you always fucking do!”

It’s just now processing in you that if Harry is here, the person you saw in the room can’t be him and he surely looked bulky. Harry runs his hand through his hair, straightening up from his hunched position before he sighs tiredly. He looks… worn-out, even more than he usually does. The dark circles under his eyes and beat-up knuckles are new, he usually looks fine despite everything that goes on in his life, but this is a version of him you haven’t seen. He has definitely been through some shit lately.

“What are you doin—“

“No time for questions now, we have to get out of here,” he cuts you off, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the alleyway to another parking lot on the other side of the motel. You spot his old jeep right away, but you yank your hand out of his hold, stopping in your tracks.

“Wait, my car is there!”

“We’ll come back for that later, but they can’t find you here with me or they’ll be after you as well,” he explains, grabbing your hand again as he pulls you towards the car and this time you follow him blindly.

You get into his jeep without even questioning it, not even caring that he is a man who is currently wanted for murder. Your instinct is telling you that you’re completely fine with him and you believe it. The two of you head out of town, taking the route to the next town nearby, but he takes a turn to the left, the jeep rolling onto a dirty road leading along fields filled with wildflowers. You have a guess where you’re going, there are some abandoned cabins near the woods that used to function as vacation homes, but they were slowly left to stand empty for eternity when a luxury resort was built on the other side of the woods.

“Care to tell me what the fuck just happened?” you ask him calmly, turning to look at him. He has one hand on the wheel, while his other elbow is resting on the armrest, fingers tapping on his chapped, pink lips.

“I’m in… deep shit, Y/N,” he admits with a sigh, eyes glued to the road ahead of him.

“No shit, you killed someone?”

“I didn’t,” he states, his eyes meeting yours for a moment to emphasize his truth. “It was a fucking set up and now they are after me every way possible.”

“Who is? And what did you do to get into so much trouble?”

“I’ll tell you about it when we arrive, okay?”

You sit in silence for the rest of the ride until you finally arrive to the cabins. You follow Harry inside one of them and it seems like he has set his base up here a few days ago. There’s a double bed with blankets thrown over it and a few mismatched pillows, a sports bag with his clothes and a few grocery bags on the dusty kitchen counter, candles everywhere since there’s probably no power in the cabin. You wonder how long he has been camping out here.

“About a week ago I got a visit from Hugo McKain, you’ve heard about him?” he asks as he grabs a bottled water from one of the grocery bags and fills up two plastic cups, handing you one of them.

“Sure. I’ve heard that… he is a big fish,” you nod.

“Yeah. He wanted me to work for him, but I sincerely rejected the offer, however it didn’t sit well with him. He threatened me that if I’m not selling his stuff, then I won’t sell anyone else’s stuff,” he explains, walking over to the bed and he sits at the edge, staring at the cup in his hands. “He gave me another day to change my mind, but I said that I don’t want to get involved with any of the heavy shit he deals with. I was hoping he would just willing to forget about it, but apparently, he is not the kind to just let shit go,” he chuckles bitterly. “A few days ago he sent two of his men after me, but I was able to run away. I was ready to pack my shit up and just leave the state forever, but then the fucking asshole framed me for the murder of that guy. A friend called me to let me know that I’m the only suspect in the case and that my face has been sent out already everywhere in the state. Hugo made it impossible for me to leave, I would be caught the moment I stop to pump fucking gas in my car,” he growls in annoyance. “So it’s a whole shit show, the police and Hugo are after me and I’m fucking stuck here.”

You stand there at a complete loss of words, because though you have no evidence if he is telling you the truth, you just know he is and the situation is fucking miserable. Harry drinks his water and throws the cup into a plastic bag that serves as a trashcan, his fingers running through his hair nervously.

“Do you know who killed the guy?” you speak up after some silence.

“Yeah, one of his men called Axel, he is a proper idiot, I’m actually surprised he didn’t leave his DNA back, just mine,” Harry scoffs.

“If you know they are after you, what were you doing at the motel?” you ask, leaning against the wall, curiously eyeing him as he glances up at you.

“Knew you’d come after me, didn’t want them to pull you into this mess too.”

Your eyebrows rise at his words. He went back because of you? Harry notices your surprise, a smug smirk tugging on his lips.

“What? Couldn’t let them lay a finger on my Y/N, right?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. He has always been so flirty with you since day one, always trying to pull your leg, chatting your ears off in hopes that he can finally drag you to bed one day. But you never give in, it all stays just some empty flirting and a playful banter.

“So what are you going to do now?” you ask clearing your throat. There’s just always been something in the way he calls you his Y/N that makes you a tad bit nervous.

“That’s an excellent question to which… I have no answer,” he truthfully admits.

“You can’t hide here forever.”

“You tryna’ lure me into going to the station with you?” he asks with a grin. “To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t cuffed me yet. You love that stuff, don’t you?” Harry stands from the bed and strides over to you, the height difference between the two of you forcing you to tilt your head up a little as he smirks down at you, enjoying that he has successfully made you blush. “Question is, have you been the one in the cuffs?”

You part your lips with the intention of answering, but nothing comes out. Harry smirks down at you, so full of himself before stepping away.

“Anyway, I think I’m just gonna lay low here for a while and then hopefully I’ll be able to sneak out of town at one point.”

“You wanna stay here?” you ask looking around. The place is fine for just a few nomad days, but staying here for more seems impossible. There’s no electricity, probably no water, some of the windows are broken in, the temperature must drop drastically in the nights so close to the woods.

“Not that I have any other choices,” he huffs, opening a bag of chips from the groceries.

“Don’t you have any friends who can share their couch with you for a while?”

“You think anyone would want to hide a dude who is wanted for murder and who is also in trouble with Hugo McKain? Baby, even if any of my friends were willing to help, I wouldn’t take it. I wouldn’t want to pull them into my shit. Besides, Hugo is probably already keeping tabs of all my friends, he has the connections to know everything about me.”

“And what about me?” you suddenly ask. Harry freezes, eyes flickering at you in confusion.

“What about you?”

“Would he look for you at mine?”

Now it’s his turn to rock a stunned expression, eyebrows shooting up as he stares back at you. He wasn’t expecting it, but truth is neither did you. However it doesn’t take him long to turn it into something entirely sexual.

“You know, if you wanted to see me in your bed, you should have just asked.”

Luckily, you don’t fall under his spell this time. Rolling your eyes you put the cup to the nearest surface and head to the door.

“Alright, changed my mind. Have fun camping out here on your own,” you mumble, reaching for the doorknob, but he is quick to get between you and the door, stopping you from leaving.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I was just not expecting you to make that offer, alright?” You take a step back, folding your arms on your chest. “Were you serious about that?”

“It seemed like an option. I doubt you’d be expected to be at my place.”

“And you’d actually let me stay there?”

“I guess a few days wouldn’t hurt. Until you figure out what to do.”

Harry stares at you in awe, like you just did the best thing ever for him and the thought that he never had anyone to do such favor for him is kind of heartbreaking. He might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but there’s just something in him.

You help him pack his stuff back into the jeep, leaving the weathered cabin empty again before you head back to town. Harry drops you off a few blocks from the motel so you can walk back to your car, you glance at his door just once, it’s still closed but they could easily still be there.

Harry is already at your place when you arrive to your building, waiting around in his jeep, he has put a beanie and sunglasses on, keeping his head low. As he follows you up to your little apartment, you actually realize that Harry is about to move in with you for the upcoming days, he is going to live in your place, you’ll share your home with him. How crazy does that sound?

Unlocking the door you walk into your small apartment. It’s just the perfect size for one person, a decent kitchen with a small dining table, a living room that also functions as your study, your desk filled with folders and flyers from previous works. Then you have a little bedroom and a bathroom opening from the living room. It’s cozy and homey, but definitely not the setting you would have ever imagined Harry in.

“So, the couch is a pull out, I’ll get you a blanket and a pillow, make yourself… home I guess,” you tell him walking into your bedroom to get him everything he needs. However, he is following you into the room, already snooping around in your private little space.

As you grab him a blanket and pillow, you find him inspecting your clutters on top of your dresser, your jewelry, perfumes and makeup stuff is just thrown out there, and he seemingly takes an interest in your rings.

“Never seen you wear any jewelry,” he huffs as you walk up to him.

“Don’t like them on me that much,” you admit. “Here,” you give them the bedding and usher him out of the bedroom before he gets way too adventurous and starts digging into your lingerie drawers.

When the pullout is all set up and Harry has settled in a little, you are faced with the fact once again, that Harry is in your home and about to spend the upcoming days here with you, since he can’t really roam around the streets.

You make sandwiches for the two of you and sit at the small dining table, eating in silence until you speak up.

“I can ask my brother to help find the guy who did it. There has to be a way to get you out of this.”

Harry glances at you, chewing on his food before putting the sandwich down, swallowing the bite.

“Not really if they don’t find evidence.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“We?” he smirks at you playfully, earning a blush from you again. You hate the effect he has on you, he is clearly a good-looking guy, you always thought that, even in high school. Thanks to his troubled name, girls easily fall for his bad guy behavior, they just never really saw that being a so called bad guy wasn’t just about the looks, with a slightly similar background you could imagine how hard it really was for him. Though he never really let it show. He is always this whitty, cocky bastard who is ready to flirt his way into your pants whenever the opportunity is given.

“If you keep up with the teasing you’ll find yourself on the street one morning,” you warn him and he just holds his hands up with a smug grin.

“You are the boss lady here,” she chuckles softly before returning to his sandwich.

For the rest of the evening you bury yourself into some other work stuff, you always have a few smaller gigs going on that are easy money, Harry in the meanwhile makes himself comfortable on the couch, watching your tiny TV in silence, letting you do your thing. It’s nearing midnight when you wrap it up and head to have a quick shower. Standing under the hot water you take a few minutes to collect your thoughts and just simply try to get used to the thought that you are in fact hiding a man who is wanted for murder. It’s going to be some pretty interesting days you have ahead of you, that is for sure.

Putting on your oversized t-shirt and cotton shorts you leave a clean towel on the counter for Harry in case he doesn’t have one before heading out.

“Towel is on the counter. Sorry, I don’t have shower gel for men, but the soap is unscented so feel free to use,” you tell him walking out, only to find him already waiting around the door, leaning against the wall. His eyes fall down the length of your uncovered leg, a smirk tugging on his lips.

“If you’re the kind who sleeps naked, feel free to get rid of the textile.”

“Are you a naked sleeper?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“I can be, if you want me to be,” he grins smugly and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Good night, Harry,” you sigh walking into your bedroom and shutting the door behind you, only allowing yourself to let out a shaky sigh when you are out of his sight. Leaning against the door you hear him shuffling around until the bathroom door closes and the water starts running. You try your best to ignore the thought of Harry currently in your shower naked as you climb to bed and pull the covers over your head. You need the coverage, hopefully it’ll help you with your wandering thoughts.

“Thought you’d deliver Styles by now,” Robert teases you when he meets you at the station the next day. You left Harry at your place, sincerely asking not to trash your home while you’re away and headed to the police station in hopes that your brother might be able to help him out.

“Uh, no. But actually, he is the reason why I’m here,” you tell him with a nervous chuckle.

“What? Did he hurt you or something?”

“No, nothing like that. Can we please talk in your office?” you ask and he nods, leading you up to his office.

Once the two of you are settled and secluded from the rest of the officers, you just decide to start right in the middle and not waste your time beating around the bush.

“Harry didn’t do it. He was framed.”

Robert gives you a surprised look as he leans back in his seat on the other side of his desk. He thinks about your words furrowing his eyebrows before scratching his neck.

“How… do you know that?”

“I just know. He is being framed by Hugo McKain, it was one of his men who killed the guy, not Harry.”

“I have a feeling that your source about this was none other than Harry himself.”

“Does it matter?”

“It does, because of course he would try to defend himself!”

“Harry is not a murderer, Robert,” you snap. “He always owns up to his mistakes and he would never do anything to hurt others. Yes, he is troubled and did a lot of illegal shit in his life, but never anything that could hurt others. He became a target because he didn’t want to join Hugo.”

Robert stares at you for a while, probably trying to figure out whether he should believe you or not. You knew he’d be skeptical, but you can only hope he trusts you enough to help you out in this one case.

“And what do you expect me to do?” he asks after a while.

“He knows the name of the guy. Axel something, can you get someone on his case? Look into the evidence more? Something might come up that could help Harry out of this mess.”

Robert’s jaw clenches as he stares back at you, contemplating his choices but something is telling you he is already in. You won him over.

“I’ll have Jake look into it, I think I know who this Axel guy is.”

“Thank you, Robert!” you cheer in excitement. Jumping from your seat you go around his desk and hug him from behind, kissing his cheek as he tries to escape your embrace. He hates it when you get all affectionate at his work, but you just had to. You head to the door to get out of his hair before he changes his mind, but he stops you before you could leave.

“Y/N, just please be careful with Styles, okay?”

“He is not as bad as people make him sound.”

“I just don’t want him to get you into trouble. There’s only so much I can do to save your ass.” “Don’t worry,” you smile at him softly. “I’ll be alright.”

The rest of the day goes by with catching some stupid guy who was wanted for trying to rob a gas station while drunk, it’s a mystery how he was able to run away, you saw the security footage, the guy was barely standing on his feet, but lucky for you, he is in the exact same state when you surprise him at a bar and bring him in.

It’s past seven when you finally get home. Keying yourself into the apartment you are met with a quite pleasant sight. Harry has pushed the pullout in to make some space in the cramped living room and as you step inside, you are met with the sight of him doing pushups in the middle of the room, no shirt on, just a pair of loose shorts, all his tattoos are on display, a thin layer of sweat covering his body, his curls are held back with a headband. When he hears you arrive, his head shoots up and smirks in your way before doing a few more and then he stops, standing up just as you shut the front door.

“Welcome home, Honey,” he winks in your way and you just roll your eyes at him.

“Turning my living room into your personal gym, huh?”

“I can’t just sit around all day, waiting for you to get home, can I?”

“You can always just fix up my apartment while I’m gone,” you joke chuckling. Setting your bag down on your bed you join him in the kitchen where he is sipping on some water. “Anyway, I have good news for you. My brother said he’ll have one of his guys look into the case. I’m sure he’ll check after this Axel dude you mentioned.”

“That’s great! I’ve also been asking around today, some of my friends said they will try to dig up some dirt that might help me out, but I don’t want any of them to get too deep and then have Hugo go after them too.”

“It’ll be fine,” you nod, convinced that things will turn out well. “Alright, I’ll throw something together for dinner, what—“

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I already ordered, should be here soon.”

“You ordered food?” you ask in surprise.

“Of course. I won’t just eat your fridge out, dinners are on me while I’m here,” he smiles genuinely and you’re stunned by the gesture.

Half an hour later the two of you are sitting on the living room floor, Chinese takeout boxes littering the place around you, having a full on feast because Harry didn’t go light on the order.

“So, tell me, what have you been doing since high school?” he prompts the question. “I feel like I know you but I also don’t. Don’t get me wrong, being handcuffed by you every other month is fucking hot, but I don’t know much about you.”

“There’s not much to know,” you shrug. “I’ve been doing this since I was seventeen, no grandiose career.”

“But did you have any other plans before?”

“Thought about joining the police, but I was never tame enough to follow their rules.”

“Ooh, a little rebel?” he teases you and you throw a handful of napkins in his way, making him laugh.

“You can joke about it, but I’ve had my fair share of trouble as well, you are not the only one who’s been through some rough years.”

“I know that,” he nods, eyes getting serious for a moment. “I’m sorry about your parents.”

“You know about them?” you ask in surprise. You didn’t really share it with anyone, talking about the loss of them just made it harder to deal with it and you also didn’t want everyone’s petty.

“You just know about this kind of stuff when you grow up in foster care. Though you were lucky your brother was already of age.”

“I know. I’m convinced I wouldn’t be here if I had to go into foster care.” Putting down the box from your hands you look at Harry. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.”

“Not that it was any of your fault,” he smiles softly, but you can see the pain in his green eyes. Despite not knowing him well growing up, you always felt this weird urge to tell him how sorry you were for everything he had to deal with. He deserved a better childhood and teenage years and most importantly, respect from people. Everyone just labeled him as a lost case because of his background, but no one really tried to help him. Part of you feels guilty, because you could have helped through those years, but you were a little frightened from him as well, believing the rumors and talks about him, though now you know they were probably just stupid gossips.

Harry reaches into your box, stealing a dumpling and you snap on his hand, but he just pops it into his mouth grinning slyly.

“Hey! You have your own!” you tell him off.

“I know, but yours just tastes better.”

“You are such a pest,” you roll your eyes at him as you grab your box and start eating again.

“So, what does your boyfriend think about me being here?” he asks out of nowhere, but you see through his act. It’s his sneaky way of trying to get you to say if you’re single or not, probably already knowing the answer to that, but you choose to pull his leg a little.

“He is fine. Though you might have to plug your ears in a little when he comes over,” you tell him with a straight face and see his fall, a stunned expression on his handsome face.

“Wait, really? You have a boyfriend and told him about me being here?”

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

It’s hard not to start laughing, especially when the words process and he realizes that you are in fact taken. The flirty, teasing act is long gone, he presses his lips together nodding to himself as he continues to eat in silence.

“I’m just fucking with you, I don’t have a boyfriend,” you tell him at last, finally letting out a laugh. His eyes snap up at you and a smirk slowly tugs at his lips as he points a finger at you.

“You had me for a hot minute. Nice one.”

“Why were you so surprised when I said I have a boyfriend?” you ask tilting your head to the side.

“Guess the thought was just a little weird, I’ve never seen you with a guy before.”

“That doesn’t mean I’ve never been with any,” you point out, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Oh, I know. I never thought you are pretending to be a nun,” he snorts.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gasp, feeling like it was a subtle way to call you some sort of slut. Harry looks up at your upset expression and he immediately knows how his words were taken.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” he defends himself.

“Then how did you mean it?”

“I meant that I always thought a girl as pretty as you must have plenty of guys after her.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at how bluntly he just called you pretty. It had a refreshing sound after all the shameless flirting he has been doing when it came to you, and your poor little heart immediately skipped a beat upon hearing his words.

“Well, I didn’t have,” you admit with a sad smile. You briefly dated a guy from another school in tenth grade, but after that, your life was just way too complicated to get involved in a relationship and you haven’t really been able to change that even years later. When you’re very keen on some intimacy you go to a nearby bar and just let whatever man to pick you up and have for the night, but that doesn’t happen too often either, because it seems useless most of the time, you can do the job yourself just fine too, you don’t need some random man to call you his babygirl when he doesn’t even know your name. Some never even bother to finish you, they pass out once they got what they wanted so you prefer being on your own.

“Fucking losers!” Harry huffs dramatically. “They have no idea what’s good.”

“You don’t need to say that just to make me feel better,” you roll your eyes at him, but you can feel yourself blushing.

“I’m not, I was always crushing on you a little in high school, if I’m being honest,” he admits truthfully, managing to surprise you once again.

“For real?”

“Sure,” he nods, turning his focus back to his food as he continues to talk. “Even thought about asking you out to prom one time. But I figured you might not even know who I am.”

“Come on, everyone knew who you were!”

“Are you telling me off for being humble?” he asks grinning. “Okay, let me rephrase it. I didn’t know if you wanted anything to do with me after hearing stuff about me, so I just dodged the idea.”

You chew on his words a little before looking up at him, eyes meeting his green irises, though you are usually not one to get in on the flirting, now you just feel like being a little blunt.

“Well, I always thought you were good-looking.”

“Were? Am I not good-looking anymore?” he teases with a dramatic gasp that makes you roll your eyes.

“Well, the smugness takes a bit away from it, if I’m being honest,” you tell him off making him laugh.

Once you both are well fed you clean the boxes up together, you wash the few extra plates you used while Harry dries them off and puts them away. Opening one of the cabinets he moves the door a bit, examining how it hangs a little low.

“I always forget to fix it up,” you sigh. There’s quite a few things that could use some work, but you just never get to start on them so they are always put aside.

You take your turns in the bathroom as usual and you sit at your desk a little, working on a few stuff before calling it a night. Harry is already lying in his temporary bed on the pullout, scrolling through his phone. The covers hide only half of his body, his naked, tattooed chest is on display, one of his arms is tucked under his head, the muscles on his arm flexing just right. He surely is a sight, you can’t deny that.

“Seeing something you like?” His voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you realize you’ve been caught staring. Clearing your throat you stack up the papers on your desk and head into your bedroom.

“Good night, Harry,” you mumble, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he calls after you before you click the door closed.

The next day you go with your usual routine, Robert checks in with you letting you know he already has someone on Harry’s case, so there’s not much you can do for now, only hope that something will surface that can help him out of this mess. Throughout the day you often catch yourself thinking about what Harry could be doing at home all day and you pray to all higher powers he is not currently snooping through your lingerie.

It’s a frustrating day, you couldn’t find the guy you’ve been after but you were really hoping to finally get the money for him. He is big money, but he makes you work for it certainly. When you arrive home Harry is nowhere to be seen, but then you hear the shower running so you figure he must have just been working out and is now taking a shower. Two pizza boxes are set on the dining table and you sigh in relief that you don’t have to think about cooking with him around. Going to the kitchen you are about to grab two plates when you notice that the cupboard door that’s been hanging low a little is now fixed. It’s as new as it never was since you’ve been living here and it gets you wondering if anything else has been taken care of. Going through the kitchen you start to realize that all the little things that’s been waiting to be fixed are now working perfectly: the handle on one of the drawers, the loose tap, the shelf that’s been crooked for a while, it’s all perfect now.

The bathroom door opens and Harry walks out wearing a pair of black sweatpants, his hair is wet and he has a towel hanging from around his neck.

“Oh, hey. Didn’t hear you arrive,” he breathes out throwing the towel to the back of one of the chairs around the dining table.

“Just arrived a few minutes ago. Hey, did you fix my kitchen?” you ask furrowing your eyebrows at him.

“Uh, yeah. Took a look at the stuff that seemed off. Also fixed the shoe rack near the door and the hangers in the bathroom.”

“Oh wow. You really shouldn’t have.”

“Didn’t you tell me to fix the place up while being here?” he teases you with a smirk as he leans against the table.

“That was just a joke.”

“I know,” he chuckles softly. “But I really didn’t have much to do today so I thought I might make myself useful.”

“That’s… actually very nice of you. Thank you.”

“No worries.”

“So how was your day?” Harry asks as the two of you are chewing on the pizza, sitting at the dining table.

“Why are you making small talk like we’re a married couple?” you scrunch your nose, taking another bite from your slice.

“What, I can’t be nice?”

“You can, it’s just you are usually not,” you point out.

“Or you are just never around when I decide to be nice,” he grins. “You usually just burst into my place, handcuff me and then bring me in. That doesn’t give much time to be nice.”

“I wouldn’t cuff you if you didn’t try to run away the first time I wanted to bring you in,” you retort shrugging.

“Okay, first of all, I was not expecting you to just kick my door in and have a fucking knife pointed at my throat, of course I tried to escape! And second, I quite enjoy being handcuffed by you, so I guess it’s not that bad.”

That smug smirk is back on his lips again and you wish you could just wipe it off sometimes. He is so full of himself!

“You are always coming with this cuffing thing. Get a hold of your kinks, Styles.”

“You can’t tell me it doesn’t turn you on. I bet you’d like that, if you haven’t already been cuffed in the bedroom,” he snorts, taking a big bite, the sauce dripping a bit from the corner of his mouth that he wipes with the back of his hand.

“My kinks are none of your concerns,” you sternly reply, but it just makes his grin wider.

“Oh, so you do have kinks! Tell me more about them!”

“Well what are yours?” you retort, hoping it would shut him up, but it has the opposite effect on him. Leaning back he swallows the food in his mouth before starting the list.

“Well I do love getting handcuffed, I’m into spanking, both ways. I have a weird thing for—“

“Alright! I’ve heard enough!” you cut him off. “Stop, just… stop,” you breathe out.

“What?” Harry chuckles, clearly enjoying the situation more than you’d want him to. “Don’t tell me you’re too prude to talk about sex.”

“I’m not,” you answer right away.

“Okay, then tell me about your kinks!” he teases you some more. Snapping your eyes at him you can tell how much he is enjoying making you so uncomfortable, but you also know that he thinks he’ll just make you blush and you won’t tell him a thing. So you decide to give him his own medicine.

“I do in fact like to be handcuffed, I love a good spanking, when my ass cheeks turn red from the slaps, that makes me cum very hard. I love a good old choking and I particularly enjoy giving blowjobs because I don’t have a gagging reflex, makes men go fucking nuts when I have them down my throat to the last inch, I get off their reaction easily.”

Harry’s lips part as he stares at you with a stunned expression, he definitely did not expect that answer, or any answer at all. That face alone makes up for the slight anxiety that took over you talking about what you really enjoy in the bedroom. Your eyes wander down and a triumphant smirk tugs on your lips.

“Don’t be such a horny teenager, I can see your dick getting hard,” you tell him before flipping the pizza box closed and walking into the kitchen you put the remaining of it into the fridge.

“You are such a tease, Y/N,” he shakes his head with a soft chuckle. “But it might backfire, because now I’m gonna get off thinking about spanking you,” he grins at you, but you just shrug, heading to the bathroom.

“Do whatever you want, fantasizing is free,” you tell him before locking yourself in the bathroom.

You’d be lying if you said you don’t think about him in the shower. As your hands move down your body, your fingers wander between your legs, gently playing with your clit while thinking about Harry spanking you. Knowing that he is kind of into the same things as you makes your fantasies even more vivid, but you don’t let yourself get off. You wouldn’t want him to hear you moan under the shower, he would tease you about it forever.

When you’re all done you step out of the bathroom only to get startled by Harry who is standing right at the door, wearing only his boxer briefs.

“Shit!” you gasp, snapping your hand to your chest.

“You took awfully long in there, Y/N,” he smirks at you, but you just roll your eyes at him. “If you ever need help washing you back, don’t be shy to ask me to join.”

“Keep dreaming,” you mumble under your breath as you walk past him and make your way into your bedroom.

“I already do that!” he calls after you before you shut the door closed.

Throwing yourself to your bed you take a deep breath closing your eyes. If he keeps up this act, you have no idea how you’re gonna survive having him around any longer.

Two days go by in the same manner. You spend most of the day out doing your usual stuff, you actually manage to catch another guy who was a small reward, but it’s more than nothing. Harry usually has dinner ready and waiting for you by the time you get back home. During these two days he has fixed up basically everything that wasn’t working in your apartment, freeing you from doing it yourself for probably twice as long as he did.

You sit and eat together, Harry usually tries to get under your skin with some more flirting that you return with a cold shoulder, but then, when you’re lying in the comfort of your bed or standing under the hot water in the shower, you always find your thoughts wandering off to the man on the other side of the door.

Ashamed to admit, but you’ve gotten yourself off once thinking about him. You woke up in the middle of the night from a quite hot dream that, of course, featured a shirtless Harry and you just couldn’t stop yourself from bringing you some relief. For a little while your hands weren’t yours, you imagined that Harry’s big, calloused and ring clad fingers were moving against your body and you needed every drop of self-control not to moan his name out as you came. You blame it on him being so comfortable shirtless around your place, he has been really making himself feel home. Not that you’re complaining, he is a sight for the eyes certainly, but it’s also giving you a hard time.

Robert soon asks you to swing by the station to discuss some details about Harry’s case. You can tell he couldn’t dig up anything helpful, he would have already mentioned it through the phone, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anything that can be useful in further investigation.

“So, I’ve caught wind of Axel Morris being involved in the death of the victim, but we haven’t been able to recover any evidence that would point towards him, unfortunately,” Robert explains as the two of you sit in his office. “Didn’t want to bring him in for questioning either because then Hugo would find out we are after him.”

“So what can be done now?”

“I’m… really not sure, Y/N. If Axel doesn’t magically confesses the murder on tape, I’m not sure I can do anything to help Styles.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you’re trying hard to think of what to do. This can’t end like this, there has to be a way out for Harry…

“Look. I know you’re trying to cook up something to help Styles, but I’m not sure I can give you much time.”

“What do you mean?” you ask with a puzzled look.

“I mean that…” He glances at the door and then leans closer, speaking more quietly. “If I had a guess where he could be found, I would say he is at your place as we are speaking. I can’t let a guy walk free who is wanted for murder, Y/N. I eventually have to bring him back.”

“Alright, alright. Just give me a few more days. I’ll figure it out,” you plead, running your hand through your hair. Robert sighs, shaking his head.

“You have three days. That marks ten days since the warrant has been out. If you don’t bring me evidence by then, I’m sending the guys to your place to get him.”

“Three days, alright. I’ll… figure it out. Thanks, Robert,” you nod, leaving his office in a rush.

You have three days to find evidence against Axel and free Harry, but how do you even start? You’re good at what you do, but this is kind of out of your field and you’re not sure you can deal with it.

Walking around town you try to come up with an idea, but end up doing what you always do when you’re stuck on a case. Thanks to your work you’ve built up quite a web of connections, you always know someone who knows someone who is exactly the person you need. So sitting at a diner, munching on a late lunch you start calling your connections to see if you can dig up anything that could help.

A few hours later the situation becomes brighter and you finally have a somewhat useful plan so you head home to let Harry in on what you’ve come up with.

He is seemingly surprised when you arrive home earlier than the usual, he is sitting at the dining table, a bowl of instant noodles in front of him as he is watching some video on his phone. Like usually, he is only wearing a pair of sweatpants, his tattooed abdomen on full display.

“Oh, hi! Something happened?” he asks, concern showing in his eyes as he watches you kick your shoes off and storm into your bedroom, going straight to your wardrobe to dig up one particular outfit. “Y/N?” you hear him call out for you, his voice coming from your door.

“Yes! I knew I still had it!” you cheer in triumph as you hold up the latex set that clearly leaves very little to the imagination. When Harry sees it, his eyes go wide and his imagination probably gets wild for a moment, because he clears his throat as he looks at you puzzled.

“What do you need that for?”

“It’s part of my plan that will get us evidence against Axel Morris.”

“I’m not really following, so please elaborate?”

“I talked to Robert, he said we need to get him to confess. Now, I made a few phone calls and found out that our friend, Axel is a regular at this strip club called Siren. I’ll pretend to be a dancer and wrap him around my fingers and get him to confess while recording. You said it yourself, he is a real dumbass, I’m sure I can make it work.”

Harry stares at you frozen for a long moment before he lets out a heartfelt chuckle and now you’re the one confused about what’s really going on.

“S’cute you think I’m letting you close to that man. Funny, that was a good joke. Alright, what do you want for dinner?” he asks, walking back to the dinner table, but you chase after him.

“It’s not a joke, Harry. Pretty much our only chance to get you out of this mess!”

“You are not going anywhere near that guy and that’s not up for debate.”

“Not that you can tell me what to do!” you scoff at him.

“Y/N, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shakes his head sitting back to the table, stirring his pasta around with the spoon.

“I certainly know, and this is pretty much your only chance to save your ass, Harry.”

“Not if it means you go near Axel, nah,” he shakes his head calmly, as if it wasn’t even an argument and he had the right to grant you permission.

“Well, I’m doing it and you can’t do anything about that. I’m going in tomorrow. I know one of the dancers, she is helping me set it all up,” you shrug, your attitude meeting his careless one, but he doesn’t like your answer, not even a bit.

“Y/N, you are not going there!” he snaps, standing up, the chair falling back from the sudden movement. “That psycho killed a man or did you forget about that?!”

“Okay, so what’s your plan to save your ass? Because there’s literally no other choice,” you retort giving him a frown as you march back to your room and Harry follows you.

“But it won’t be you dressing up as a stripper, seducing a fucking murderer to get him to confess!”

“So then what is it going to be?!” you snap at him facing him again. “Because Robert gave me three days to sort things out before he comes here and takes you in himself!”

“Then I’ll go to jail! No big deal!” he throws his hands into the air like it was just a minor inconvenience and not a case of murder that could put him behind bars forever.

“Are you fucking insane?” you laugh in disbelief. “You’re willing to lose the rest of your life for what? Nothing at all?!”

“It’s not nothing, Y/N. You are not getting yourself into this mess and it’s not up for debate.”

“You hold no control over me, Harry!” you scream at him at this point, fed up with his bullshit.

You find yourself pinned against the wall in a blink of the eye, Harry is pressed up against you, hands grabbing onto your forearms as he keeps you in place firmly, one of his thighs coming between your legs as his face is dangerously close to yours now. He knocks the air out of you for a moment and you stare back at him with parted lips for just a split second before your instincts kick in.

You easily knee him in the crotch, giving you just enough opportunity to grab one of his wrists and twist it behind his back, forcing him to get on the ground, growling in pain.

“Fuck! Y/N!” he groans, snapping his other hand against the hardwood floor. You give him another squeeze as a warning before letting him go and he falls to the ground for a moment before he pushes himself up to sit on his heels.

“You still think I can’t protect myself against a man?” you sneer at him walking over to the bed to grab the outfit that was tossed to the side in the hustle.

“Shit, I think you broke my dick!” he breathes out hunching over and you just smile to yourself as you hand the outfit up to the side of your wardrobe.

“Don’t be such a crybaby, you’re fine.”

“Don’t think so, might need a get-well kiss on it though,” he smirks through his painful expression and you roll your eyes at him. How is he still at it when you just kneeled him in his crotch? “Okay, your message came through very clear though, but I’m still not a fan of your plan,” he sighs finally standing up from the floor.

“It’s gonna be easy, I’ll get him a little drunk, offer him a private dance, make a move and get him to talk. If he really is that dumb like you said, I can easily get him to open up, just gotta make sure he is focusing on something else,” you explain gesturing towards the outfit on the hanger.

“You can’t wear that, Y/N.”

“This is what strippers wear, I don’t see what the problem is.”

“My problem is that it’s like… nonexistent. There’s no textile at all!” he rages, still eyeing the red latex set.

“Are you… jealous?” you ask, starting to get a feel of what’s really going on. Harry’s head snaps in your way and the look in his eyes answers your question even when he tries to hide his real reasons.

“Jealous of you becoming a stripper? I bet I can make more than you if I became one,” he scoffs smugly.

“Oh my god, you are so fucking jealous!” you laugh, enjoying this one in a million moment. “What’s next, you have feelings for me? Are you gonna confess your undying love?” you tease him.

“Okay, you had your laughs, that was enough. Excuse me if I’m looking out for you and I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“Don’t get all smitten with me now. I’ve been doing just fine without you so far.”

“Yeah, how many people did you bring in for murder?” Harry questions and that leaves you without an answer. Not that you don’t know it, but because the number is exactly zero. You’ve been doing your job for quite a while and there’s been all kind of cases under your hands, but not murders. Though you are completely capable of defending yourself, you’re not sure you want to deal with monsters who took a human’s life. The only reason you took Harry’s case was because you had an inkling feeling from the very start that he did not do it.

“Just as I thought,” Harry scoffs. “Listen, if you really want to do this then I’m going with you. No way I’m gonna just sit around here and wait to see if you make it back home.”

“How do you plan on leaving the house? Someone might recognize you and then it’s game over.”

“I’ll just… disguise myself,” he shrugs. “Can’t be that hard.”

You never thought the day would come when you see Harry Styles wearing a fake mustache and a ridiculous wig, secured with a beanie to his head. The moment the two of you finish his disguise, you can’t hold your laughter back. He looks so damn ridiculous, you can barely breathe through your laughter as he checks himself out in the mirror.

“I look like a fucking pedophile,” he shakes his head chuckling as he pushes some fake hair out of his forehead. “Where the fuck did you find this wig?” he snaps at you in disbelief.

“Does it matter? You look so fucking bad!” you laugh hysterically and Harry just stands there, waiting for you to finally stop, but it seems like he is not bothered by your reaction. He probably finds it equally funny too.

It’s currently seven pm, you have to head to Siren soon to start your fake shift as a stripper and you haven’t been able to talk Harry down from following you, so there you are, getting ready to fool everyone around you. Harry with his awful disguise and you with your stripper outfit.

When you finally catch your breath you leave Harry in the living room to get ready as well. Following a heavy makeup with dark, smokey eyes, you also put on a wig, a short, red bob that’s part of the outfit. Then you squeeze yourself into the latex, the tiny top barely covering you, the skirt is not even a skirt, rather than just a belt. As an extra to the fit, you’ve put on a red corset, though it’s more so you can hide the voice recorder since the original outfit doesn’t give too many places to do that. You pair it all with fishnet tights and a pair of black, thigh-high boots. As you check yourself out in the mirror you don’t even recognize yourself. Y/N is officially gone, the girl in the boots is… Crystabel.

Opening the door you step out of your bedroom, Harry is standing in the middle of the living room, busy with his phone so at first he doesn’t even see you walk out.

“Ready to leave?” he asks, eyes still on the screen of his phone.

“I… guess?” you breathe out, feeling extremely self-conscious in this revealing set.

When Harry finally looks up his mouth drops open. He is not even trying to hide his hunger as his eyes rake down the length of your body. He takes his time to take in every inch of your exposed skin before his gaze settles on your eyes behind your long fake lashes.

“Holy shit,” he breathes out and it gives you quite the confidence boost.

“You like it?” you ask, striking a pose as you push your hips to the side and place your hands on your waist.

“I-I’m… I’m fucking speechless,” he chuckles as you walk closer and grabbing the strings of his hoodie, you tug on the playfully while he is still shamelessly checking you out. “I don’t know how I could live this long without seeing you like this.”

“You are such a flirt,” you roll your eyes, but just as you are about to step away from him he grabs you by your waist and pulls you against him firmly. Your hands move to his broad shoulders right away, trying to keep your balance in his hold.

“I might be a flirt, but you are the hottest woman I’ve seen and I admit I will be fucking jealous of every man that’s gonna lay their eyes on you tonight.” His voice is low, full of lust and if it wasn’t for his funny disguise, you would have melted right into his arms in a heartbeat.

“I can’t take you seriously with this mustache on,” you chuckle softly, running your fingers over the fake facial hair, the pad of your fingers slightly touching his soft lips underneath.

“Just wait until we get back home and I get rid of it,” he smirks and winks at you, making you chuckle, but you can also feel yourself blushing at his words.

You put on a trench coat to cover the racy outfit as the two of you make your way to the club. Harry is driving, but you took your car in case someone might recognize him near the club. Arriving Harry parks at a darker corner in the parking lot and he pulls out a little box from his backpack.

“Alright, let’s wire you up, Love,” he smirks as you undo the coat and let him help you get the devices situated on you.

The voice recorder gets pushed into your stomach, hiding behind your corset. It’s thick enough that it doesn’t give away that anything is hidden under it, it’s just a little uncomfortable for you, but you are sucking it up.

“Here, put this into your ears,” Harry hands you an earpiece that you place into your right ear, hiding it with your wig. “It’s not the best quality, but you’ll be able to hear me and I’ll hear everything around you. We need a safe word if anything happens so I know I have to go inside.”

“This is starting to look like a spy movie or something,” you mumble under your breath as you start buttoning your coat again.

“Don’t turn it into a joke, Y/N. Axel might be a stupid jerk, but don’t forget he killed that man. He doesn’t care if you’re a woman or not, or if you’re a real stripper or not.”

“Alright, alright,” you sigh nodding. “How about… cherry?”

“Okay. Use it if you are in trouble or someone is hurting you or anything.” You nod, fidgeting with the end of the coat, but Harry grabs your hand and makes you look at him. “I mean it, Y/N. I don’t want you to play the hero.”

“I won’t, calm down. I gotta go now. I’ll see you soon,” you tell him before getting out of the car and heading to the backdoor. Glancing back one last time you see Harry standing at the hood of the car, watching you intently as you disappear from his sight.

Sienna, who is helping you tonight is already waiting for you at the backdoor. You met her a few years ago when you caught her abusive ex and took him in. She said she owed you one for freeing her from that asshole and now you are finally here to collect that favor.

“Damn, you look good!” she grins, pulling you into a short hug.

“You think it’s gonna be alright?” you ask, pulling the coat open to show her the whole outfit.

“Fucking fantastic. No men will be able to focus on anything than your boobs,” she snorts, pulling you inside.

The plan is easy. You won’t be out all night, Sienna will be your eyes and when she spots Axel arrive, that’s when you come into the picture. Sienna will escort him to a secluded area and tell him he has a free lap dance which will be, of course, performed by you. Some flirting, some seducing and hopefully Axel will be dumb enough to let a some sort of confession slip.

Sienna takes you to the changing room and you stay in the corner, trying not to be in the way as you watch the girls get ready. There are ten girls in total, five of them are dancing tonight, the other five are servers, but they still dress like dancers. They all wear equally revealing outfits, just like you and as you watch them move around so confidently, you start to get more and more nervous. What if Axel figures out you’re not a real dancer right away? Or if he notices the recorder pushed into your stomach? This plan is definitely not the safest you’ve ever come up with, and you are starting to doubt yourself now that you are so deep in it.

“Y/N?” you hear Harry’s faint voice in your ear. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes,” you breathe out and hearing his voice calms your nerves a little.

“Everything alright?” First you nod, but then you realize he can’t see you.

“Yes.”

“Okay. Are you nervous?”

“Very,” you admit with an awkward chuckle. Luckily, Harry doesn’t bring his usual cockiness out, feeling how serious the situation is.

“You can still come out and we can just go home. You don’t have to do this.”

“No, I want to do this,” you firmly answer. “Just… talk to me a little. Please.”

“Alright, I’ll tell you about when I wanted to ask you out to prom,” you hear him start and you can’t push a smile down as you sit and wait, listening to his soothing voice. “You were wearing this pretty white sweater that day and tight jeans, you looked so fucking good, Y/N. I saw you walking to your locker and you smiled at some random guy and I was instantly jealous.”

“Really?” you ask quietly.

“O, yeah,” he chuckles. “I told you, I had a crush on you. So I thought about asking you out, wanted to just walk up to you and casually ask if you wanted to go with me. But then I just watched you and realized that you probably wouldn’t want anything to do with me, so I just watched you get your books out of your locker and then you walked right past me, looked me in the eyes and I straight up felt my knees turn into jelly. Good thing I was leaning against the wall. You walked away and I never asked you out. Still regret that,” he admits and your heart flutters at his words.

As weird as it sounds, you remember that day. Especially because when your eyes met Harry’s you felt kind of the same. You felt intimidated and wondered why he was watching you so intently, but you would have never guessed he wanted to ask you out.

You see Sienna walking in, her eyes find you and you immediately know it’s show time.

“Harry?” you breathe out at last.

“Yeah?”

“I would have said yes,” you tell him before you follow Sienna out and the blasting music pushes down Harry’s voice in your earpiece.

The bright lights of the back are switched to the dim, red lighting in the main bar area, a dancer is already on the stage and the place seems packed for the night as all men are hungrily watching the girl on the stage, throwing dollar bills at her shamelessly.

Sienna pulls you to the bar and leans closer to your ear so you can hear what she is saying.

“He is in one of the private rooms, told him the dance is on the house to thank him for being a regular. I asked one of the guards to stand nearby.”

“Thank you, S,” you nod at her as she squeezes your hands.

“Good luck, girl,” she smiles a little bitterly before she shows you the way to the room where Axel is currently waiting for his private dance.

As you stop at the door you take a deep breath, staring at the doorknob for a moment, trying to brace yourself for whatever is about to happen in there.

“I’m going in,” you say, partially to yourself, but mostly to Harry so he knows what’s happening though you don’t hear an answer before you open the door and step inside.

The room is mostly what you were expecting, a small stage with a rod in the middle, across that a long, plush, deep burgundy couch. The walls are black, just the red led lights illuminating the place.

And there he is. Axel Morris is sitting in the middle of the couch, manspreading so widely like the asshole that he is, arms leisurely draped across the back of the couch as his hungry eyes immediately snap to your body.

Axel is big. He is a large man and you realize that the moment you see him. Though he is sitting you can easily tell that he’s tall and he is definitely bulky. Could end you in a blink of an eye and knowing that he is capable of murder is just an eerie thought that doesn’t leave you alone. But you suck it up and get into character, only thinking about one thing: help Harry out of this mess.

Music with low bass starts playing through the speakers as you make your way over to Axel who grins at you disgustingly, making it hard for you to keep the façade.

“Hey big boy, heard you’ve earned a dance for yourself,” you coo at him stopping at the edge of the stage as you keep eye-contact with him. You lean against the edge and spread your legs just enough to tease his imagination about what’s about to come.

“Hell yes, I did! Hope you’re a good dancer, babygirl. Haven’t seen you around here.”

“I’m new. But I’m really good, that’s why they sent me,” you smirk at him sweetly as you walk closer until you’re standing in front of him. He reaches out and grabbing your hips he pulls you to straddle his lap and it catches you by surprise but you don’t fall out of character.

“Then show me what you can do. What’s your name?” He licks his lips as you start moving, doing your best from movies you’ve seen with strippers in them.

“Crystabel, but you can call me yours,” you hum, grinding and bouncing yourself, completely unleashing your inner hoe. “Tell me, big boy. Are you as dangerous as you seem?”

“Oh baby, you have no idea,” he grins proudly.

“Really?” you coo, pushing yourself up against him. His dirty hands find your ass and you want to push them away so badly, but you let him have his way with you for the sake of the plan. “What’s the worst you’ve done?”

“Why does a pretty girl like you want to know about that, huh?” he cocks his head to the side, eyeing you with suspicion so you know you have to be careful.

“Because I have a thing for those stuff. I love pain and blood, it gets me off always,” you smirk at him teasingly, grinding yourself against him to divert his attention a little from the words spoken.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Yeah, I love that kind of stuff,” you moan, running your hands down your chest, his eyes hungrily following your every move and you know he is zoned out. It’s going perfectly.

“Well, I’m the perfect man for you then, babygirl. I’ve done all the things you can imagine.”

“Really? You are turning me on, big boy,” you murmur lowly, turning around for a bit so he can get a good glimpse of your backside as well. “Have you… taken anyone’s life before?” you bluntly ask, hoping you aren’t moving too fast and he won’t snap at you.

“Not sure I should be talking about that with you, pretty girl,” he smirks smugly. You turn back to face him, pushing your crotch against him as you try not to gag feeling his erection under you.

“I’m good with secrets, Honey. My lips are sealed,” you grin at him, stroking his oily face and try your best not to wipe your fingers into the cushion of the couch. Axel smirks at you, clearly enjoying the show you are putting on, his fingers are digging into your thighs as his eyes are practically glued to your chest.

“I’m a killer, babygirl.”

“Yeah?” you gasp, faking your excitement. “What did you do, big boy? Tell me, make me wet,” you purr biting into your bottom lip, pushing your chest out some more to distract him from his consciousness that might keep him from answering.

“Killed a guy recently,” he smugly admits and your adrenaline is high in the sky. You are so close to what you need!

“Oh my, sounds like a dirty job.”

“It was.”

“Saw it on the news a guy got killed not long ago, did you do that?” you smirk at him, his hand slapping your ass and you fight yourself not to punch him in the face.

“That Richards guy? Yeah,” he nods and you almost start screaming in your triumph. This dumbass really did just confess to you, because you had your ass and tits out for him!

“Cool. What’s your name, big guy? Wanna know who I’ll think of when I touch myself later,” you pant into his ear, you need him to say his name otherwise the confession might go to shit.

“I’m Axel, babygirl,” he grins, leaning dangerously close to you, he clearly wants to push his tongue down your throat but you push yourself away and up from his lap.

“Our time is up, big boy. See you later!” you sing and walk out of the room while he is still kind of zoned out.

The moment you are out, you start running. You can’t have him realize what just happened and stop you. Pushing your way back to the dressing room you grab all your stuff and spring out of the building. Harry is standing at the entrance, his ridiculous disguise is gone as he spots you with wide eyes. He probably heard everything and wanted to be there for you when you get out and as soon as you reach him he grabs your hand and the two of you run to the car. Right when you get into the car, you spot Axel running out from the front entrance and he definitely realized what just happened.

“Hey! Get back here you slut!” he shouts as Harry starts the car and you melt into the seat, scared of what’s about to happen because you see Axel reach to his back and the next thing you know is that he has a gun in his hand.

“Harry! Go!” you scream when you see him aim at the car and right at that moment, the wheels screech as Harry pushes the gas pedal to the fullest and the car yanks forward.

Your heart drops to the floor when a bullet shoots into the side of the car as Axel tries to stop the two of you. Harry takes a sharp turn and leaves the car park with full speed. You see Axel from the mirror, he is raging and keeps shooting after you, but he has no aim or whatsoever. You reach the end of the street and you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“Oh shit, fuck,” you mumble, chest heaving as you grab onto the armrest for some kind of leverage, your adrenaline is still pumping through your veins from the action movie-like scene that just happened.

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?” Harry asks, eyes dancing between the road ahead of him and you as he tries to figure out if anything happened to you.

“I-I’m fine, he was just… fucking nasty to deal with you,” you groan at the thought of his hands on you. You’ll need the hottest shower after this, that’s for sure. “Go to the station, we gotta bring the tape in now,” you tell him as you reach into your corset. Pulling the recorder out you huff in relief, it’s been pressed into you for way too long. The tape is still rolling so you end it and then rewind it, checking if everything you need is on it. Luckily, it caught the whole thing perfectly, that means Harry is not going to jail. Well, not this time at least.

He is speeding down the streets as you get rid of the wig and put on your coat, you don’t want to walk into the police station dressed like a hooker and have the word spread that Robert’s sister has been making money some other way lately.

Arriving to the station you hold the recorder so tightly as if your life depends on it while Harry reaches for your other hand and firmly holds it in his warm palm. You walk inside and immediately spot Jeremy at the front desk. Letting go of Harry’s hand you run up to him.

“Jer, I got evidence for the Richards case! I got a confession on tape,” you beam at him holding the recorder up. He gives you a stunned look as he takes the recorder.

“Confession? How do you—“ He is cut off when you hear Harry’s voice from behind you.

“Hey! What the fuck!” he snaps and as you turn around you see that two officers are already on him, trying to handcuff him. Jeremy quickly forgets about the recorder as he joins in on strangling Harry. but you grab his arm and try to pull back.

“No! He didn’t do it! Listen to the tape!” you cry out, desperate to end this mess, but it feels like no one is listening to you.

“Harry Styles, you are under arrest for the murder of Dave Richards. You have the right…” One of the officers starts saying the usual speech as they drag Harry away while you are begging to Jeremy to listen to you.

“Jeremy! He didn’t fucking do it!” you scream, tears rolling down your face.

“What do you mean?” he asks giving you a puzzled look. It was Axel Morris! One of Hugo McKain’s men! They are trying to frame Harry!” you explain, while Harry is being taken away. “Harry, no!” you shout after them, but the officers don’t stop.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll be fine!” he calls after you before he disappears from your vision.

“Jeremy, please just listen to the fucking tape! I got his confession!”

“I’ll look into it, but I’m afraid Harry is spending the night here,” he sighs, looking down at the recorder before he walks away.

“Fuck, no!” you choke out.

When you finally stop crying you rush out of the building and call your brother, not even caring that it’s past midnight. He better answer your call or you are showing up at his house and start banging on his door until he opens it.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” he growls into the phone.

“Robert, they fucking took Harry in! I had the confession on tape, but they just wouldn’t listen, they arrested him!”

“Hey, slow down, what are you talking about?”

Taking a deep breath you tell him the whole story. The club, the dance, the confession and then how you came straight to the station but they arrested Harry without listening to you.

“Alright, you can’t do much now, Y/N. He is still a suspect but I’ll call Jeremy to look into the tape. If it’s found relevant Harry will be out in the morning okay?”

“Please come in early in the morning and make sure he is let out, please!” you cry out, feeling so helpless after everything that just happened.

“I will. Meet me at the station at six, okay? It’ll be alright. Go home, have some sleep and then we’ll make everything right in the morning.”

You do as Robert asked, go home, have a shower, wash the night off of your skin and lie in bed however you are not able to sleep, not even for a minute. You keep thinking about Harry and what might be happening to him now. They better get their shit together and let him out in the morning or you are losing your mind. You didn’t go through all this just to have him put behind bars anyway.

It’s not even six when you are already at the station, anxiously waiting for Robert to show up. You keep glancing up at the building, thinking about how Harry is somewhere in there and you can only hope he’ll be out with you shortly.

When Robert arrives he goes straight up to check out the situation with the tape and Harry. Waiting for him down in the hall is nerve-wrecking, you feel like time has stopped. When he finally appears again you jump to your feet running up to him with high hopes.

“The tape has been examined, it was classified as evidence. Jeremy has already put out an arrest warrant on Axel. Harry is no longer a suspect. He’ll be down once the paperwork is done.”

“Oh thank God!” you breathe out and throw yourself at him, hugging him tighter than ever.

“Look, but there is something I need to talk to you about,” he says with a serious look.

“Okay, what is it?”

“We might be able to get this Axel guy, but I’m pretty sure Hugo is already after the two of you. We have a whole team for him, working on catching him finally, but it might be smart if you just left town for a little.”

“Oh. Yeah, sounds logical,” you nod.

“Let me know if you need help with that. I can arrange something for you.”

“We’ll see. I have to talk to Harry first.”

“Harry, huh?” Robert smirks down at you knowingly and you feel yourself blushing. A lot has changed lately around you and Harry and you guess it’s quite evident for everyone else as well. “Just so you know, he asked about you during the night. Wanted to know if you are alright.”

“Yeah?” you breathe out with a small smile.

“Yes. Might have been wrong about him a little. Tell him I said hello, I need to get to work now,” he nods with a fond smile.

“Thank you, Robert!” you call after him as he waves in your way before disappearing in the elevator.

Waiting around in the hall you keep looking towards the hallway, hoping to see him appear finally, but the minutes are just dragging by way too slowly.

You’re impatiently sitting on one of the benches by the wall when you finally see him walking down the hallway, leisurely running his hand through his hair, a tired smile sitting on his lips when he sees you leap from your seat and launch at him, throwing yourself into his arms.

“Hey, hey! It’s all good, Love. Told you not to worry about me,” he chuckles, but holds you tight anyway, his arms wrapping around you as he lifts you off the ground, taking a few steps forward.

“Of course I fucking worry about you, idiot!” you mumble into his neck before leaning back you look at his pretty face.

“Yeah? Does this mean I had the right to worry about you last night?”

“You were?”

“Fuck yes,” he laughs. “You have no idea what it was like to sit outside and listen to everything that fucker told you. Wanted to punch him in the face so badly.”

“So heroic,” you grin at him, your face already inching closer to his, arms still wrapped around his neck.

“Only for my favorite stripper,” he winks at you, making you gasp.

“If you dare to bring it up again and call me a stripper, I swear to God I—“

You don’t get to finish your threat, because his hand snakes to the back of your neck and he pulls you into a hard kiss, his lips smashing against yours. Melting into the kiss you open your mouth for him without hesitation, his tongue meeting yours as he kisses you with so much vigor and passion, he makes you bend your back, leaning back as he holds you firmly in his strong arms. And suddenly, you feel like you’re seventeen again, making out with your high school crush in the school hallway, luckily, you are kissing the same person you wanted then.

“I’m fucking starving, babe,” he breathes out once you finally pull away from each other. “For you as well, but can we get some real food?” he asks as he laces his fingers together with yours, heading out of the station.

“Sure,” you chuckle. “Hey, there’s something we need to talk about.”

“Love, told you, you can handcuff me to the bedframe, I’m into that stuff.”

“Shut up!” you laugh smacking his chest as the two of you walk out to your car. “It’s not about that,” you murmur with a soft blush. “Robert said we should leave for a while, Hugo might be after us after what happened last night.”

“Yeah, thought about that myself too,” he nods as he gets behind the wheel without even asking if you want him to drive or not.

“So what should we do?” you question, sitting in the comfort of your car. Harry reaches for your hand and brings it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly before he smirks at you.

“Have you been to Ireland, Love?”

“No,” you breathe out, a little stunned by the question.

“I have a friend over there, I’m sure he would love to have us there for a while. What do you say?”

“Are you for real? You want to go to Ireland with me?”

“Yeah, would be fun, don’t you think?”

“Okay,” you smile in awe. Even after that kiss you had doubts he would want to run away with you for the time being. But he is definitely planning to have you around longer. “Yeah, Ireland sounds fun.”

“Great. Then let’s head home to pack,” he smirks, starting the car. “Oh, Love?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t forget to bring your handcuffs,” he grins and you just laugh at his smugness before leaning closer to kiss him quickly before the two of you finally drive away from the station.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

[allzelemonz]

Don’t Go: Crosshair X Gender Neutral Reader Part 1

In honor of the return of Star Wars! I’m a little late... but Crosshair is in need of love. I want nothing bad to happen to him and I will likely be sad in the coming weeks.

It all happened so suddenly. One minute you were working with the resident Jedi on Kamino, then a clone asked for you to follow him. Then you heard the blaster fire. When you tried to turn back the clone grabbed your arm and kept you there.

“It would be best if you stayed with me, Commander.”

You stared at the expressionless helmet in shock. From the tone of his voice to the words themselves, this clone was not acting right. Nevertheless, he had a blaster in his hands and you did not. He released his grip on your arm and you followed him away. Nothing seemed right.

He led you to the Prime Minister who was waiting in his usual weird egg chair. When the trooper was gone you gave the Kaminoan a curious look as he calmly poured a drink for you.

“I’m sorry if you witnessed any unpleasant things today, Commander.”

“Do you mind if I ask what’s going on, Prime Minister?”

You tried to keep you cool in the presence of the Kaminoan, knowing that manners and politeness was their favored character trait. You accepted the drink from him with a small thanks.

“All will be explained in due time, but I’m afraid I must inform you that your employment in training the clone troopers may be coming to an end.”

“What do you mean?”

“We have come under a sort of new management.” The Prime Minister took a small sip from his cup. “An announcement will be made later this evening, I just thought it would be best to let you know of the threat to your employment ahead of time.”

“Thank you for that, but I’m still a bit confused.”

“We will speak more tomorrow, after the announcements. Everything will make more sense then.”

You gave the Kaminoan a nod and promptly exited the room. You were met with hallways full of troopers going in every direction. You took a shaky breath at the sight of an occupied stretch being carried to the med bay, seemingly for analysis. You had a sinking feeling you knew exactly who was on it.

You made your way to your barracks, changing your mind halfway there, and instead turning down the hall leading to the barracks room of Clone Force 99. You waited there for an hour or so, trying to distract yourself with cleaning one of Crosshair’s old rifles.

The door slid open to reveal Tech and Wrecker first. Tech going immediately to his workstation.

“Ah! Good to be back.” Wrecker exclaimed as he put his helmet down.

“The smell’s getting worse.” Echo commented.

“You’re still new. You’ll get used to it.” Hunter assured.

“Speak for yourself.” Crosshair pushed passed his brothers, finally seeing you.

The other boys went about their usual coming home routine as Crosshair sat next to you and took his helmet off.

“How was the mission?” You asked, mostly to gauge if he’d be acting weird like all the clones you’d seen today.

“Mediocre.” He mumbled.

He leaned over to you and placed a quick kiss on your head. At least that hadn't changed. The rest of the Bad Batch seemed to be acting like themselves. There was something about Crosshair’s movements that seemed different. He hadn’t taken his helmet off until sitting with you. He didn’t say anything about you cleaning his rifle.

“Not every objective” Crosshair said.

You tuned into the conversation, having ignored it until now.

“Hunter let that Jedi kid escape.” He continued. “Or do you want to keep lying to us?”

You looked between Crosshair and Hunter. Let the Jedi escape? Were all of the Jedi being killed?

Hunter stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the waters below.

“I don’t like to think of executing our commanders as a mission objective.”

“An order is an order.” Crosshair argued.

He wasn’t wrong, but killing all of the Jedi was a questionable order at best. And the Padawans, children, there was no way to justify that order. When you were first brought on to aid the trooper training you couldn’t believe that pre-teens were holding a rank that you didn’t earn until you were twice that age. You couldn’t imagine killing them.

“Since when?” Hunter fired back.

Even from behind him, you could see Crosshair become annoyed. The end of his toothpick flicking around and his shoulders tensing up.

“None of this makes sense.” Echo chimed in. “Those clones served alongside General Billaba for years. How could they turn on her like that?” The former reg hit his fist against the table in frustration.

“Because of the reg’s programming.”

Everyone looked at Tech as if he was crazy.

“What programming?” Hunter asked.

You recalled being told that the clones were made to be more obedient than the average person, but you never thought of it as programming. Tech explained what he meant and Wrecker laughed.

“Ha! We sure don’t” The giant clone slung an arm around Crosshair, stuffed toy in hand.

You could see Crosshair’s annoyance at the action go beyond his default level of only moderate annoyance.

Tech explained why they didn’t adhere to the same standards as other clones, which you could have guessed. They’re different. Tech made it sound more complicated than that, but really the short answer was that they were simply built different.

Crosshair pushed Wrecker off him as Tech continued his explanation. Wrecker began to softly hit Crosshair with his stuffed toy in opposition. Crosshair got away from his large brother and replaced his toothpick in his mouth. You could still tell he was a bit off put by the current topic of conversation. The boys continued to discuss why they didn’t follow the order that had apparently been put out. You came to your own conclusion about the Jedi and troopers you’d been with earlier.

Crosshair leaned against the wall next to his bunk, you nudged him lightly and asked silently if he was feeling okay. He didn’t respond as he usually did.

An intercom message gave the order to report to the staging area, interrupting the conversation.

The Bad Batch walked to the staging area. You followed with them, Crosshair keeping pace with you in the back. It was his form of PDA like holding hands, just walking with you in step.

You split from the boys to take your position at the head of your group of clone cadets. All of them acting strange, not a single one out of place or trying to talk to one another. All of them stood at attention as if they were clankers. Even your subordinate sergeant didn’t give you any more comment than an acknowledgement of rank and a curt nod. He’d usually at least crack a smile or a wink if he was feeling confident.

You watched the announcement with a bad feeling about what was to come. You tried to catch sight of Crosshair or Hunter, anyone of the batch, but they were too far ahead and blocked by too many other clones. You couldn’t even see Wrecker towering above everyone else. The news that all Jedi were to be executed for treason explained a lot, but it didn’t change your mind about anything. The clones around you cheered at the announcement of a new Empire. The cadets behind you included. Men that just a few weeks ago had been talking about their disgust with the authoritarian Separatists. Maybe Tech had a point about the programming.

After the announcement you were caught up in the chaos that was clone cadets. Your fellow training commanders all worked to get the cadet back into their schedules and you couldn’t slip away no matter how much you wanted to. You escorted your troops back to their training area and got them back on track, leaving them to the bounty hunter trainers they were working with.

You made your way back to the batch’s barracks to find Crosshair looking over the old rifle you had been cleaning.

“Where is everyone?” You asked. It was a rare case the barracks were only occupied by one member of the batch.

“Out.” Crosshair stated plainly.

You took his meaning. Everyone was doing their own thing. You sat by the tall clone and watched him inspecting the weapon.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been accommodating recently.” Crosshair said, breaking the silence.

“Since when are you accommodating?”

The sniper chuckled and set the rifle to the side, turning to you. He took your hand in his and met your eyes.

“I try to be for you.”

He leaned in and kissed you. The usual crosshair kiss, short and to the point, but exactly what you needed.

“Have you been feeling okay?” You asked.

Crosshair raised an eyebrow at the question.

“You’ve been picking at Hunter a bit more than usual is all.”

“He made a bad call.”

You nodded, not wanting to provoke him. Maybe Crosshair wasn’t as immune as the others. He was acting off, but not nearly as badly as the regs.

“Do you want to go to the mess?” You rested you had on his cheek, tracing the point of his tattoo with your thumb slightly.

“Maybe later.” He answered, leaning into your touch.

He inched closer to you, pulling you close to him. He wrapped his arms around you in a rare hug. You relished in the action, pulling him closer as well. You ran your fingers against his short hair. Crosshair never hugged you for more than a few seconds, but you sat there for a while before the clone pulled away to kiss you again.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Cross?”

“Just missed you.” He spoke softly.

He hugged you close again. It made you wonder what was going through his head right now. The stoic man Crosshair usually appeared as was fading the longer he held onto you. Something wasn’t right.

[libradusk]

Ignited | Rex

Word Count: 8,388

Pairing: Captain Rex x Reader

Summary: After an unexpected crash landing on Felucia results in Rex becoming entangled within a particularly sticky patch of foliage, an even stickier situation unfolds between the pair of you.

Warnings/Content: Explicit smut, as in the longest smut fic I’ve written so far, Rex gets a face full of Sex Pollen tropes (and by extension, slight dub-con by virtue of that?), AFAB reader (though no gender is explicitly mentioned), oral sex (reader receiving), hintssss of cock warming + breeding kink because that’s what I’m here for baby, can’t lie there are clear feelings involved because I’m too soft for this MAN.

a/n: This is set during the events of “Bounty Hunters” from season 2 of TCW, except instead of fighting pirates the reader and Rex end up boning down.

I took some liberties (I guess??) with the writing of the ship and also Clone Trooper equipment for plot purposes but let’s be real that’s not why any of us are here rn. 

I’ve had this + a sequel planned out forever so its such a relief to finally have finished part 1 of this behemoth at least.

And now, at last - have part 2

When the command that would reassign you to the Felucia Medical Base had first been issued, you were none too happy about it. You had become quite content with your duties amidst the 501st, as well as the closeness you had cultivated with its men, enough so that you were incredibly reluctant to see an end to it all. Despite the severity of the war currently plaguing the Galaxy, and their especially heavy involvement in fighting for the Republic side, the 501st always seemed to find a way to rekindle your optimism in a multitude of ways that were unique to them. It was refreshing. You considered yourself incredibly lucky to be surrounded by so many individuals, soldiers and Generals alike, who never failed to treat both you and each other as though you were each true individuals in their own unconventional family unit.

But alas, your luck had finally run dry. As instructed by the forces commanding both you and your unit of staff, you were now to stay at the base to re-establish its connections, as well as to provide a befittingly intricate report as needed.

Orders were orders.

Didn't mean you had to like them though.

You glare out into the darkness of space as that thought continues to swarm around your mind. The ship you’re currently situated upon cuts smoothly behind the one piloted by General Skywalker himself. You secretly thank the stars that you don’t have to share a vehicle with Anakin, considering how you’ve witnessed his reckless flying techniques numerous times over in the time you’ve known him. But even so, you can’t help but silently curse your own ship for being the object responsible for pulling you away from the only sense of true belonging you’ve felt since joining the army. All you can hope for is that the medical station isn’t too heavily damaged despite losing contact with the base of operations, and that by some miracle you can pull some strings to get reassigned back to your boys before your work within Felucia’s orbit threatens to drown you.

The dark expanse beyond the transparisteel viewpoint appears vast and inviting, as though beckoning you to sink into its velvet depths. You imagine the tenderness of the reprieve it could offer you in your fantasies, transporting you to a place where you could surround yourself with pleasant memories and little else.

Running away from your obligations would only ever get you so far, but for a moment it was blissful to relax into the thought of it. It made the ache of reality twinge a little less painfully in your chest.

You feel the warm weight of a pair of hands on your shoulders before your eyes unglaze enough to register them decorating your reflection. Captain Rex stands to attention behind you, the gentle hold of his palms atop your shoulders being the only aspect to break the picture of discipline his stance holds as he follows your gaze out to the stars. He allows his touch to linger for a moment more - to anyone else it would likely appear as no more than a colleague extending a gesture of camaraderie to a solemn looking comrade, but you know that to him it probably feels like the greatest of sins. His helmet obscures his expression, but you can hear the swish of his kama as he fidgets ever so slightly in place and you wonder if his thoughts are as overcast as your own.

This unspoken attraction, tiptoeing the line of propriety with each affectionate jest or brush of skin against armour in the corridor… it had all been going on for months now, to the extent where even Rex’s own men were beginning to whisper through the cracks in his resolve. Though now it seemed that this too would be forced to come to an end, snuffed out before it ever truly had a chance to bloom. The taste of that knowledge is sour on your tongue as you bite down on it to quash the sense of mourning that had suddenly washed over you.

It's exceedingly difficult to not take it as a form of punishment, even though you know that’s not the case. Really, you should be honoured to be appointed in charge of the station, but the fact that you had no way of knowing if it was even salvageable until you arrived there did precious little to alleviate the miserable affair this had all devolved into.

Your shoulders feel naked without his touch now and you realise that you’re yearning more than ever now that your hypothetical future with Rex is about to be torn away from you in less than an hour’s time. You find yourself wondering once more what expression graces his face beneath the visor, if his eyes lingered on you instead of the stretch of space beyond where his reflection could reach. You decide to indulge in your little fantasy for just a while longer, war was a tragic business, and you would continue to take what respite was offered to you while you still could.

“We seem to have lost you to the stars again, Officer.”

Rex’s low tone jolts you out of your starry-eyed daydream, your reflection’s gaze refocusing back at you in the windowpane as the void of space framing it fades out to a grey in your peripheral. The smile in his voice is obvious to you, even with the helmet’s barrier. It's familiar, warm but a little sad as it wraps the playful quip in a mask of enough stoicism for it to slip under the radar of the few troops that share the ship’s interior with you both. They’re mostly shinies, picked to accompany your team alongside the Captain as an escort, just in case trouble awaited your group once you reached the medical station itself. You already had the company of two Jedi Generals and their Padawan, but you weren’t about to complain about having Rex present alongside them either.

“We’re approaching the Felucia Medical Station now,” Obi Wan’s voice crackles through the ship’s communicator and closes the window of chance for you to quip back at the Captain. The Jedi’s usually calm voice prickles with an apprehension that rises the closer his much smaller ship gets to the seemingly derelict station, “something is wrong… brace yourselves- !”

Time appears suspended around you the moment the first flash of streamlined grey cuts through the darkness surrounding your ships. You have little chance to throw more than a glance towards the ruined medical station orbiting Felucia before the knife-like structure of several vulture droids cut dangerously close to your ship. 

“We need to move and evacuate, now!”

You aren’t sure if it's Rex’s voice or your own that echoes against the blaring siren of your ship as it takes the first hit of fire. The durasteel beneath your feet threatens to distort with the force of it, and you feel your breath stutter in your lungs as you’re shaken violently. You stumble to cling to a nearby surface while simultaneously shoving a rather shell-shocked member of your team down towards where the ship’s escape pods are located, eyes squinting through the flash of crimson beating off the walls around you. Your gaze locks on to Rex as he stands by the doorway, ushering the last few stragglers through it with a determined wave of his hand. The dark visor of his helmet flashes dangerously with each pulse of the alarm light, bathing his white armour in a bloody glow that darkens and spreads in time with its screeching. It dawns on you then, that this might very well be the last you see of him after all, even without setting foot on the medical station itself - this, as bitter a circumstance as it is, seems much more twistedly befitting.

Another blast collides with your ship, this one buckling the wall directly behind Rex and warping the exit’s frame with the force of it. You hear Rex cry out, the sound shocking straight through you as he’s thrown forward in an explosion of sparkling wire and twisted durasteel. The sight of him struck down to his knees is enough to shoot another bolt of adrenaline up your spine, and you launch yourself towards him despite the unsteadiness of your own legs in supporting you. He’s still very much conscious, but clearly injured as you grit your teeth and drag him to his feet, all but throwing the pair of you through the sparking blast door and towards an empty escape pod as the remnants of your ship begin to hurtle further towards Felucia’s surface.

---

Your landing is less than graceful, with your pod catching its underside on a particularly sharp jut of rock on its decline and sending itself skidding across the swampy ground. The impact of the connection sends your head spinning once more, and you’re forced to take a few minutes to regulate your breathing and ensure that your vision is no longer swimming before you can open your eyes and dare to venture outside. You flex the fingers on both hands before stretching out each of your limbs on instinct, relieved to find that somehow, nothing appeared to be broken and at worse you had suffered a few mere bruises despite a landing that would have made Skywalker himself proud.

The humidity of Felucia’s climate hits you the moment you step out of the ruined pod, legs carrying you with all the grace of a baby Krugga deer. It clings to your clothes as you survey the damage dealt to what remains of your escape pod, though it chills down the back of your neck severely once it dawns on you that Rex is nowhere to be seen within the wreckage. In a burst of panic you jog forward blindly, calling out for him through a raspy throat even as you stumble into a particularly sticky patch of flora that coats your uniform in a sweet-smelling gunk. Your hands fumble across your torso before settling on the blaster strapped to your hip. You grip the trigger with clammy fingers as you force your eyes to focus completely and scan your surroundings, ears ringing with the calls of nature and unseen creatures around you.

Despite the bustle of the jungle-planet’s ecosystem all around you, you find yourself completely alone.

No troops, no supplies, no Jedi and no Rex.

Your blood suddenly feels cold despite the heat rippling across the horizon line. Each thump of your heart grows louder with every second that passes, drumming in your ears like a foreboding death march as the breath begins to skip in your lungs. It's just about drowned out the ambience across the clearing you’re frozen in when you finally hear it: a faint string of cursing in mando’a paired with the sound of very human struggling not far from where you are.

The sound of your footsteps pounding the earth reaches you before your breathing even has the chance to even itself out again.

“Rex! Oh thank goodness-”

You find the Captain entangled in an odd-looking shrubbery of fuchsia coloured thorns. The trooper’s helmet lays on its side, just out of reach as he struggles to free himself. The frustration is evident on his face as he attempts to contend with what is clearly an injured shoulder. Relief gushes through you all the same, and you waste no more time in helping him free himself. 

You note the heaviness of the air around where he was trapped moments ago. The plant’s loosened pollen seemingly floats around its glossy flowers, its pinkish smog burning down your throat all the way to your belly as, despite your better judgement, you give in to your exhausted lungs and inhale too closely to it. The sensation is not unlike chasing a shot of Corellian whiskey, your head feels foggy just from the time it takes you to untangle Rex from the vines’ clutches. 

Rex’s voice drawls out like his gullet is coated with honey as he groans in pain. His eyes appear largely absent even as he weakly gestures to his utility belt and the familiar prickle of panic begins to bite at you once more. You rummage through his pack and note the half-used tube of bacta tucked away within it, which you fumble to apply to the exposed wound on his shoulder. The gash glares angry and bloody from the tear in his blacks as it peers out from the gap between where his pauldron and chest-plate meet. You cringe as his entire body buckles at the touch of your fingers against his skin once you carefully tug off his armour, taking care to try not to jostle him too much in the process. Each swipe of your fingertips against his body, injured or not, has him reacting like he’s received a kick to the gut. The panic melts into a simmering worry once you finish seeing to his more obvious wounds. You take solace in the knowledge that the bacta will no doubt work on the worst of his abrasions, but the way he’s now shivering and clenching his jaw with that same hazy stare sparks a new sense of concern within you. 

“... Are you sure you can stand? You still seem in pretty bad shape.” 

He coughs into his fist a few times before pinching the bridge of his nose in an obvious attempt to clear his vision and mind. His eyes are heavily-lidded when his gaze drags over to meet with your own.

“... yeah, I-I’ll be fine, heads just still spinning from where I was thrown out the ‘pod.”

Your eyes widen at his words and your fingers flex with the instinctual drive to check over his heaving body for any signs of internal damage or fractures. Even through his discomfort, he seems to read your expression before the accompanying words can leave your lips.

“Nothin’s broken, can tell you that much. This… foliage, whatever it is, broke my fall. Though I dread to think how much longer I would’ve been struggling in it if you hadn’t found me when you did. Thanks, by the way.”

A sigh of relief rushes from you at his reassurance, though you can’t help but eye him sceptically as he grits through the pain to shake out the stiffness in his joints. You pat his back comfortingly as you look towards the distance, newly set on locating yourself a less obvious place of shelter for the night than what the remnants of the escape pod could offer to you both. The Separatists would pick the two of you off easily if they were to find you in such a vulnerable state, but Rex still needed a sheltered place to rest in order for the bacta to heal his wounds all the same. With another sigh and the exchange of a few words of encouragement, you urge him to walk forwards into the underbrush. You take care to keep him close in your peripheral as you bundle up his removed armour under one arm and keep the blaster raised in your other, eyes keenly trained on your surroundings all the while in case you were to spot another one of your separated allies, or in case of more insidious forces raising their heads.

---

Your prayers seem to be answered in record time, as the pair of you manage to stumble on a cave far enough away from your crash-point for you to consider it safe. It’s discovery couldn’t have come at an any more pinnacle moment, as Rex’s shivering has only worsened in the time that has passed, so much so that now you can’t even reach out an arm to support his heaving shoulders without the contact of your body heat against his own sending him spiralling into another fit of quivering, cold sweats. The situation is only made more daunting with the fact that you have yet to stumble on any of your lost allies, Jedi or otherwise, and at this point the ground itself feels as though it is pulsating under your boots with how high the heat has risen.

Quickly, you usher Rex towards a nearby patch of bushes as you step forward to survey the cave for signs of life, heart hammering in a combination of nerves and exhaustion drawn from trekking under the Felucian sun. Finding it satisfyingly empty, you beckon the Captain forward. No sooner does Rex gingerly set himself down with a grunt does his comlink finally crackle to life. Anakin’s voice sounds distorted and broken as it strains from the trooper’s wrist and you can’t help but fixate on the beads of sweat that trickle down Rex’s neck into the collar of his blacks as he lifts his arm towards his flushed face.

“-Rex, Rex! Do you read me, Rex?-”

“...Yeah General Skywalker, I hear you. Signal’s spotting something terrible, sir, but it's better than nothing.”

You hear a muddle of voices dancing amidst the static and move drop down to where Rex slumps against the cool surface of the cave wall. Your body brushes against his as you lean closer, and his breath hitches audibly despite it being the uninjured side you come into contact with.

“Everything ok there Rex? You sound in a bad way.” It’s Obi-Wan’s concerned tone that echoes across the cave space this time, and Rex shakes his head despite the General having no way to see his reaction.

“N-no I’m fine, just took a hit when the vulture droids took down our ship is all. I’ll be fine, I’m not alone.”

“I’m here with Captain Rex, General Kenobi. We still haven’t been able to locate the rest of the group we initially set off with, but we’re safe and sheltered for now.” You duck closer to Rex’s suspended wrist, doing your best to ignore the heat of his breath fanning over your cheek as you speak into the communicator. You can feel his eyes on your profile, but keep your own fixated on the blue lines decorating his forearm plating all the while. “Rex is… His shoulder is injured. I’ve treated it with what I have available, but the medical supplies perished alongside our ship and it might be at least a night until we can judge if he’s well enough to set off through the wilderness again.”

There's a thoughtful hum from the other side of your communication link and you can only imagine that Kenobi is currently cupping his chin in thought at your words. A voice you recognise as Ahsoka’s chimes in before the Jedi Master can speak once more, the volume of her voice indicating that she must have snatched Anakin’s wrist close to her face before anyone else had the chance to interrupt her.

“We have most of the others here with us! Your pod can’t have landed much further away right- hey!-”

“As I was going to say before Ahsoka here decided to interrupt, you’re hopefully not much further away from where we currently are. I’ll send over our coordinates so you can hopefully use Rex’s equipment to track to our location. We seem to have stumbled upon some kind of farming settlement, we’re going to see if we can get some help from them once we get a little closer.”

For the first time since your crash-landing, the weight sitting across your chest eases a fraction, and it manifests into a small smile of relief that brightens your face in the fluorescent glow emitted by Rex’s comlink.

“Amazing! I’m so relieved you’re all ok, I’ll admit I feared the worst once our ships began to go down.”

“Please Officer, you should know better by now than to doubt my flying skills after everything you’ve seen so far-”

“Really Anakin? I’m not so sure that's the most reassuring statement you could have given, considering your reputation... Anyway, stay safe you two and try to reconnect with us as soon as possible. I’m sending the coordinates over now.”

There’s a faint beeping sound as what you assume to be the coordinates in question sync themselves up with your own location, and it isn't long before Rex lets slip a low groan of frustration as he eyes flicker to the small display screen on the inside of his wrist. Your newfound optimism drops at the sound.

“What is it?”

“It's gonna take at least a full day and a half on foot to get to where Generals Kenobi and Skywalker are, and that’s with us both operating at full capacity.” Rex punctuates his frustration with another pained hiss as his shoulders lurch forward towards you. Your hands instantly jut out to support the weight of him, resting firmly on his chest so as to avoid latching onto his injured shoulder. The full body shiver that wracks through him is apparent under your palms, as is the way his breath catches in his throat as you move a hand to press against his clammy forehead.

He’s boiling. There’s no way you can allow him to move from the cave as his condition currently stands. This is no simple case of blood loss and fleshwounds, whatever toxin present within that plant is currently forcing itself through his bloodstream with a vengeance and is clearly the main culprit behind his discomfort. You feel somewhat lightheaded yourself, especially in such close proximity to him. There’s a creeping heat fluttering across your skin despite the coolness the cave offers. It's been slowly gnawing at your flesh since you first came into contact with Rex’s botanic prison, and you can only imagine the intensity of how it's affecting Rex in comparison.

“Don’t make that face at me, I’m gonna be fine.” He speaks through gritted teeth as he furrows a brow at your expression, attempting and failing to appear strict as he pants up at you from where he sits slumped against the wall.

“You need to rest at least. Come here and let me check your vitals.”

I need to make sure this isn’t affecting you as seriously as it seems. You choose your spoken words cautiously as you slowly begin to strip him of the remainder of his armour, leaving him in just his blacks and boots. He protests weakly for a moment before giving in to your careful touch, resigning himself to simply instructing you on how to undo the more complicated latches keeping the plating in place and watching the movement of your fingertips dance down his body.

Somehow he’s burning even hotter beneath the plastoid, his breathing becoming shakier with each layer that is pulled away from his body. When your thigh brushes up against his own when you lean across him to place his thigh-plate on the rest of the armour-pile, he throws his head back and groans. The sound shoots straight through you despite your attempt to resist it - guilt crawling in to join it in quick succession. 

“...m’sorry-” he glances at you bashfully beneath heavy lashes, pausing to wet his lips between a shuddering sigh as his head lolls back against the stone behind him, “-I’m just, just burning up - my body is on fire and I don’t know how to stop it.”

You take a deep breath of your own before opening your dry mouth to speak again.

“I-its ok Rex, You’re going to be ok, I promise. Here,” you reach down to where his utility belt sits beside him, unhooking the small canteen of water and raising it to his lips, “drink, you need to get some fluids in you.” 

He takes the flask from you with fingers that hint of a tremor ghosting across them. You watch his reaction as he chugs it down, noting sadly that it hardly seems to bring him any relief. With an inward sigh, you refocus your attention to checking over his vitals, alerting him before your hands make contact with his body once more.

His muscles continue to twitch under your touch, but you’re relieved to find that despite his elevated body temperature and sensitivity, there are no glaring signs of toxin poisoning or major threat in his system. You reassure yourself that his condition likely stems from his body’s reaction to an unfamiliar substance, but it being one that didn’t appear to have any threat of being fatal to him. Even so, you make a decision to set off in search of the others as soon as you were possibly able to so that he could at least receive more in depth medical aid, cursing once again that the medical supplies destined for the ruined base perished in the attack on your ship.

As soon as you pull away, a sound leaves him that's akin to a whine and the heat of your own cheeks intensifies almost unbearably.

“...I should go find something to make a fire with. Try and get some rest, ok? I won’t go far I promise.”

You shrug off the jacket you’d slung over your shoulder the moment the atmosphere had become too hot to handle, flicking it out to the side to shake off any loose pollen before draping it warily over Rex’s torso. It's less of an effort to keep him warm, his shivers are beyond any help of this kind now, but you hope it's perceived as a caring gesture all the same. Perhaps it could serve as some semblance of a pillow if nothing else. You try to ignore the way his fingers instantly ball up in the fabric like a lover’s grip on the bed sheets.

It's strange, seeing him reduced to this, a side of him that you’ve never even caught a glimpse of beforehand when you thought you knew the Captain so well. You aren’t entirely sure how to act around him at the moment, because he seems so vulnerable and so sensitive to each brush against his body, leaning towards you each time like he can’t bear to be without contact despite the heat licking across his bones.

So you run away, just for a moment, just to give yourself enough time to process what's unfurling before your very eyes and the reasons as to why it's occurring. The humidity in the air is still stifling, even now the sun has begun to dip lower in the sky. A shivering sigh you didn’t even realise you were holding in is knocked from your lungs as the evening air enters them. It twists across your audience of none and sounds impossibly loud despite the bustle of nature all around you. 

You somehow feel even more lost now than when you had started.

---

By the time you’ve loaded up on enough wood to make a decent campfire the temperature has dropped considerably. It breathes over your clammy skin mercifully, but does little to quell the heated thoughts plaguing your mind still. You waste no time in assembling a fire at the cave’s mouth. The sweat clinging to the back of your neck has cooled to a shivering kiss at this point, it dips its fingers down your spine as a breeze edges by you and licks across the flames. Rex’s groans of discomfort have lowered in pitch now, and they creep out from between the stones to settle deep in your stomach despite your increased attempts to bat them away. The uncomfortable heat building between your legs threatens to shackle them next to the fire, but the concern in your heart urges you forward to check on your injured soldier despite the heavy hesitation standing in your path. A particularly loud yelp proves to be the final push you need to shove you forward to a stumbled sprint.

What you find causes the remaining firewood in your hands to clatter noisily around your ankles. It splinters off towards the darker reaches of the caves to sit broken and forgotten while you stand slack jawed at the sight before you.

Rex lays writhing beneath your jacket, the material now wrung between the whitened knuckles of his fist as he bites down on it to try and smother his whimpering. It's become less of a blanket and more of a crude gag of sorts to cage his groans against. His blacks have been shed, they sit crumpled and hastily discarded across the cave’s floor. Rex is bare to your eyes, a tangle of panting breath and glistening, naked skin that almost appears to glow with the faint light of the campfire in the near distance. It serves to bathe him in copper, gilding his taunt muscles in a way that only emphasises the pure heat rolling off every inch of his body.

Your eyes rake over the whole shivering mess of him before you can bear to strip them away.

Your name all but wails from his lips once you can finally focus on how his gaze has locked onto you with a hunger - expression strained and apologetic, yet clouded with wide blown lust all the same. There's an echo of guilt that stirs your guts into knots, it screams at you as it bubbles over.

You should not be seeing this.

And yet you cannot look away now, your eyes drifting further down the valley of his stomach to where he grasps at himself. His wrist curls with each desperate jerk of his fist around his cock.

The coil winding inside you snaps to something hotter, yet your voice still fails you. It remains useless with an even greater intensity as he raises the same, glistening hand to smear it over his abdomen in a sparkling trail. He groans out your name again, something intelligible stumbling along behind it. The words are as jumbled as your thoughts.

“Mm-sorry. I tried to fight it but - but its too hot, m’burning-” Rex’s words slur together in a gasp. “Can’t, just can’t… fuck… I need you, need this, always needed…”

He trails off with another shaking moan as his hips canter and buck, body once again reminding him of the heat crawling over every one of his nerves.

“...I can’t, Rex.” He looks almost pitiful, but you can’t help but answer in a voice that’s stern, yet also too small in that moment for an officer of your capabilities. You try to keep your eyes trained on his upper half as you step closer, unsure if it's a thinly contained lust or concern fuelling your steps in that moment. The heat in your stomach billows higher the closer you get, and fuck - the waves of heat swelling from him seem almost contagious now.

Rex whines into your jacket in protest, and you can't help but ponder if this is truly the same steadfast soldier you thought you had known for months.

Against your screaming better judgement, you kneel down to check shaky fingers against his forehead. He leans desperately into the contact, but as quickly as the relief can flash across his face, it dies - replaced by a furrow of his brow and the straining of his arms as he so clearly fights to keep them pinned at his sides as you inch closer. There’s a new ache twisting in your heart over seeing him attempt to cling to the last shred of his composure, you think you can even make out the sparkle of frustrated tears gathering behind his lashes now.

“Oh, Rex…” Your words are carried on a whisper. The absurdity of your situation would have made you laugh if you were to have stumbled upon it in some sleazy holo-vid or novel, yet seeing the outcome of it play out in real life with someone you care for is gut wrenchingly frightening. 

How long was this going to plague him? The thought of him twisting with an agony you cannot relieve makes your heart ache defeatedly, posture slumping to further accommodate the emotion burdening your form.

You sweep your hand down the slope of his cheekbone in an attempt to soothe him. His pulse thrums in his temple as your fingers skim over it in their path from his forehead. Surprise jumps in your stomach as he suddenly cocks his neck in order to softly catch your fingertips with the plush of his lips, pressing against them in a kiss that seems far too soft for how evidently worked up he is. The gentleness of the gesture contrasts with the harsh sigh of air that expels through his nose when your touch drifts away.

Those newly dangerous eyes lock with yours again, but he remains completely still now aside from the occasional shivers fluttering over his shoulders and the laboured rise and fall of his chest. You feel like you’re going to drown in them, but your legs refuse to step away. His gaze begins to roam as you stand paralysed beneath it, raking over your expression before settling at last on your lips. His tongue darts out to wet his own before he opens them to speak again, the vibrato of his voice feels damp against your skin despite the fact you’re no longer touching him.

“Please.” 

His eyelids droop as he pushes the top half of his body forward into a bastardised mock-bow in front of you. Amber eyes cling to your own once again, their pupils still blown but his voice now regaining the sense of clarity that had been lost to him before.

“Please, I want this, I need this so badly-”

Your resolve finally snaps and you all but bruise his mouth in a kiss that sings of longing as much as it does unbearable desperation. You grasp his jaw tight in a clammy hold as your teeth clash together with the force of it all. His growl carries over your tongue once you slip the appendage into his mouth, though you can only bask in the tiny victory for a short moment before you’re all but choking on your surprise as Rex pounces and drags you down to the cool floor alongside him. It's as though he’s become revitalised by your touch and taste, arms caging you beneath a look so possessive that it shoots straight between your thighs. You can feel just how strong he is as he leans down to kiss you once more, the press of his broad chest against your captured self stealing the air from you in more ways than one. It's a body that has been engineered to fight and kill, one that is genetically identical to the thousands of brothers that take to the field alongside him each day of the war. Yet now as you battle against the force of him to run your fingernails through the blonde buzzcut atop his head and over the uneven surface of his scarred shoulders, you note that it's decorated with parts that are unique only to him.

There is only one Rex, and in this moment, you are as much his as he is yours.

And you want to help him through this, you do.

Your hands have barely begun to skim over the constellation of scars painted across his back before they’re pinned above your head as Rex begins to clumsily strip you, his teeth now finding purchase in the curve of your neck. Your head begins to spin again as your shirt is torn over your head and flung across the floor, both your undergarments and bottoms soon following alongside it. A gasp slips from you the moment your newly bare flesh makes contact with the chill of the cave floor, it pulls a shiver across your naked shoulders that only intensifies further when the heat of Rex’s mouth attaches itself to your skin again and again in a delicious contrast.

It's maddening, the pace he’s moving at. It’s as though he can’t dedicate too much time to one specific area of your body before his lust demands he move on to taste another. His palms are wide and impossibly hot against you as he grips your thighs with a battle hardened grip before spreading them unceremoniously. You yelp in surprise and push yourself up on your elbows the moment he does, limbs beginning to shake the moment hot breath fans over your core. There's a flash of what you believe is concern that darts across his eyes then, but it soon hardens as he takes in the sight of your parted lips and the flush that has spread down your throat. Rex clearly tries to keep his eyes trained on your expression as he lowers his attention to your cunt, but the moment the taste of you hits his tongue he can’t help but groan in relief, eyes fluttering closed as they threaten to roll back into his skull.

His closely-cropped hair gives you little to nothing to grip onto as the first wave of pleasure stutters over you, and you resolve to bunch your fists into the fabric of his blacks beneath your hips for support. He’s a messy eater, just like his kisses were moments beforehand. His teeth even threaten to graze you a few times as he nips at your inner thighs between each lathe of attention he flicks against your folds. It causes you to yelp in mild alarm each time he does before the sound is buried beneath your moans once more as soon as he finds a rhythm that he can work against you. Despite the way he’s currently growling into your pussy, he’s still clearly lucid enough to squeeze your thigh in what you think is apology each time, though the indents his nails leave behind beg otherwise.

Rex lazily fucks up into his hand as he tastes you, each vibrating groan stretched from within his throat only shooting further into your core. The flush in his cheeks blooms deeper now, and it peppers across the top of his chest in a ruby hue that only burns darker in the low light of the campfire. He looks beautiful, even in such a state as this, and you can’t help but cry out his name as he switches between sucking at your clit and circling it with the rough pad of his thumb.

“S’good.” Rex’s voice slurs as he whispers against you, letting out another deep groan of his own as he pushes a finger into you and watches you clench around it, your head falling back with a broken gasp. You can hear him audibly swallow at your reaction, it melts into a purr as he pulls back to marvel at his handiwork after bestowing another lingering swipe of his tongue across your thrumming bundle of nerves. A thin strand of slick and spit trails breaks away with the detachment of his lips and you moan at both the sight of him and the loss of his mouth’s contact. His other hand comes to rub circles into the muscle of your thigh and you can feel the precum slicking his fingers smear across your flesh before quickly cooling across the heated surface.

“So, so good for me. So gorgeous.”

His tone is gentle, reverent almost. It contrasts sharply with the way his hand inches to squeeze your inner thigh as the other curls a finger experimentally within you. It truly feels as though the tables have been turned on you now, and it's your turn to muffle the sob that bubbles up your throat with your hand, back arching at the feeling of his thick finger stretching and rubbing the inside of your walls and the praise rolling off his tongue. The pace of his wrist is slow enough to have your toes curling, but not enough to push you over the edge to where you desperately needed to be.

He appears to forget his desperation for a moment longer, continuing to sit back on his haunches to admire your expressions with a hint of a lopsided smile as you all but fuck yourself on his hand. Another strangled moan leaves you then, and it's this one that finally seems to break whatever trance he has drifted off into, the hunger filling his eyes once more to take the place of the love-sick adoration that had graced them before. You drawl out his name needily, that all too familiar heat that you had first experienced when you found him on Felucia’s surface blazing over your nerves with a higher intensity than before. He finally snaps once again and lurches forward to bite into another kiss, hands now taking a bruising hold on your hips. Your chest hitches with the emptiness you feel once his fingers leave you, though the press of his body above your own makes quick work of ceasing your squirming. His skin is boiling, the full weight of him almost suffocatingly hot and heavy as he brands you into the cave floor. You find your legs hooking over his hips on instinct, hands gripping onto his biceps in an attempt to ground yourself from the sensations bombarding you. The ambience of the outside world has silenced itself to you now, all you can focus on are the wet sounds of your mouths meeting in a series of breathless kisses and the beat of your pulse in your ears.

You inadvertently bite down on his bottom lip as he begins to rut his lower half against you, resulting in another low growl and an increased force in the jerk on his hips. Both of you moaning at how the length of his cock slides against the slick of your sex with each grinding movement. 

“Rex… please.” You are the one begging this time, uncurling your newfound grip on his shoulders to begin creeping it down his abdomen. He allows you the freedom to do this, but keens into the crook of your neck once your fingers wrap around his cock and begin to guide it blindly towards your entrance. “Please, please, please…!”

Your mindless mantra cuts off abruptly as he finally presses his hips forward and sheathes himself completely within you in an aching push. The action knocks the wind from your lungs and stretches your mouth wide in a silent scream, but your eyes never leave his own the whole time. Despite the sudden rush of relief and the cloud of pheromones threatening to blind you, beneath his wall of tightly wound muscle and feral lust you sense a tinge of nervousness still. Shakily, you reach a hand to cup his cheek tenderly as you attempt to adjust to the size of him all the while.

“Fuck.” It’s all you can manage to spit out as he slowly begins to withdraw from you, the head of his cock scraping against your walls in a way that has your head lolling back and vision spinning. He’s a stretch, but he slots so perfectly back inside you with each purposeful thrust in a way no other has ever done before. It’s a real struggle to catch your breath before Rex begins canting his hips forward with an instinctive fever, his hands pulling up your lower body to meet with his thrusts as you lay limp with pleasure beneath him. His cock throbs so intensely that you can feel it, even through the harshness of the pace he’s set. The pattern of his hips is largely uneven, jerking between quick, shallow thrusts to slower, deeper movements that sink his cock so deeply within you that your clit kisses against his pubic bone in a way that has you clawing at his shoulders once more. You can’t tell if this is due to inexperience or the overwhelming pleasure shooting through him as you attempt to grind upwards against him, but the way he sinks his teeth into your neck in such a way that you know he’ll leave a mark reminds you that you don’t care either way.

Rex’s entire body purrs against you as he releases a hand from your hip to paw at your chest, mouth trailing sloppy kisses from the quickly forming bruise on your throat to paint your collarbone in shades of puce and violet. Soon you’ve all but folded around him like a love letter, one that is signed with strings of mumbled mando’a painted across your skin with each thrust that shakes your body. You’re confident your nails are leaving their own angry red marks across his shoulder blades as you try to tug him even closer and arch up against him when he pinches a nipple between his thumb and forefinger. It’s all so messy and primal, with the heat of him crawling into your very lungs with each gasp he pushes out of you as he splits you open.

The wet slap of your bodies meeting is almost obscene as it echoes around the cave, the sound only punctured further with the whines and groans of the people responsible for it. Your head leans back into the cooling embrace of the stone floor once more, content to lose yourself to the hazy pleasure swimming in the air as Rex’s thrusts pick up in intensity.

You’re snapped out of your lustful fog when his palm cups the side of your face with an unexpected tenderness that conflicts with the fortified hold he has looped around your lower back. Your eyes snap back open to full alertness, and instantly meet with a gaze that is so focused that you feel it could cut down to peer into your very soul itself if it wanted to. Rex’s expression is almost predatory despite the tenderness with which he cradles your cheek, teeth obviously clenched along with every muscle in his jaw and upper body - and yet his eyes themselves look upon you as though you are the most beautiful being in the Galaxy despite your sweat-slickened face and the thick tears of pleasure that threaten to slip down your mottled cheeks.

The way his blonde tint of hair halos around his head and the shadows dance over the chiselled contours of his body make him look more myth than man, glowing and golden and impossibly powerful above you. But a strangled moan of your name as he brushes his thumb against your cheek reminds you that he is indeed as mortal as yourself.

You’re coming before you can even realise it.

Your orgasm is the type that whites out the world around you until only you and Rex remain, rolling over your whole body in waves that have you clenching around him so hard that his own movement is forced to still with the intensity of it, the weight of him locking you into place beneath him. Your legs quiver so hard that they border on aching as you throw your arms around his neck and scream silently into the crook of his shoulder, ears ringing in such a way that drowns out everything bar the sound of your lovemaking.

The spike of your pulse is so loud that you nearly miss the way he all but shouts your name as he reaches his climax right behind your own, the syllables encased within the stream of a low moan. His voice dips in a way you’ve never heard from him before as he releases deep inside of you in impossibly thick ropes that warm you from the inside out. It's choked on its own emotion as his hips give out a few weak, final thrusts that force more of his cum to pool out from your twitching cunt. He sobs something you can’t decipher into your neck as he loops both arms around your torso to tug you close, but you still feel the words humming over your oversensitive nerves with a vibration that bubbles into goosebumps across your shoulders and back.

The chill of the cave floor is soothing rather than biting against your spent limbs, and it only beckons forth your fatigue more as you relax against it. Your lower half remains practically sat in his lap, buried to the hilt even as your orgasm tapers off into a pleasant buzz. His cum continues to dribble down between you in syrupy trickles as you attempt to catch your breath, chest still heaving and hips burning in the most delightful way.

Rex’s head remains nestled in the crook of your neck even after you manage to raise a shaky arm to brush your digits across the fuzzy texture of his hair. He nuzzles against the particularly dark mark he had sucked into your flesh, panting words of endearment against you all the while.

“So perfect, just wanna keep you here - fuck - stay inside of you forever.”

It takes more strength than you would like to admit to raise yourself off the ground enough to coax him out from under your chin. You brush a feather-light touch across the line of his jaw before you steal away a kiss that’s the most gentle of the night, it's one that sings of untold feelings and creeping thoughts that sting when you pull back.

Even so, it's lazy and loving and Rex groans appreciatively into it, a sigh escaping through his nose as though you have breathed the life right back into him.

Lust quickly creeps back to cloud his vision once he props himself up to stare down at you again. His gaze openly flows over the sight of you splayed out and still stuffed full of him. A rumbled growl bubbles from behind his teeth as he worries them over his swollen lower lip, the sound shooting straight to your cunt once more and causing you to roll your tired hips against his without even thinking. An affectionate chuckle slips past his smirk and his face creases into something more familiar, more befitting of the Rex you had always known - though the fire in his eyes still continues to burn with the intensity of the man who had just fucked you senseless minutes prior.

“Sorry, Cyar’ika,” Rex’s voice is thick and ragged as he speaks, his accent sharpening the words almost dangerously. Warmth blooms and spreads within your chest, the feeling sliding downwards in tandem with his hands against your sides before they eventually settle firmly on your hips with a familiar grip.

“I’m not quite finished with you yet.”

[dameronology]

everything i need {mando x reader}

summary: din has to rethink his life plans how that you’re by side - not that he’s complaining {i do have a taglist but it’s 1am and i simply cannot be arsed to find it, please accept my not very sincere and very tired apologies}

warnings: much language 

enjoy!! sorry for the lack of imagines lately, i’m back at work and working as a director on two of my group projects so i am neck deep in covid-related paperwork. 

- jazz

p.s this has not been proofread, because i am just that shit 

Din Djarin had never needed a reason to find a home. Settling down permanently wasn’t an option in his line of work. Permanence had never been part of his plan. 

Then again, a lot of things hadn’t been part of his plan. The Child certainly hadn’t; if you’d told him five years ago that his firstborn son was going to look like...well, like that, he probably would have drop kicked you into the next rim. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t imagine his life without the kid now, or that he would rain hell on anyone who would dare lay a finger on the toad-like toddler. His life had gone in a direction he never could have anticipated and his son wasn’t even the biggest detour. That was you. Din wasn’t even entirely sure where you’d come from or when you’d come into his life, but he would have first surrendered his ship and everything on it before even considering the notion of living without you. Whether it was simply luck, or whether there was some higher power who finally decided to give him a fucking break, The Mandalorian had a family. He was no longer a lone gunslinger with nothing to lose; now, he had everything to lose.

The fear that came with his newfound vulnerability was a small price to pay, however. In the quieter moments - when it was just you and him and the kid - he had no question in his mind that everything was worth it. Every fright, every concern, every agonising moment that Din spent overthinking and calculating a million and one ways to keep you both safe was completely and irretrievably worthwhile. It was a little unconventional but a family was a family. A clan of three. 

You didn’t often get to take breaks. They came every few months, usually whenever Din needed had had a particularly had job. You’d found your place halfway between helping him kick-ass and babysitting the Child (who at this point, was essentially your son too). It meant that days you were running across rooftops in Nevarro with a blaster in hand, and others you were running around after your kid, holding a diaper rather than a gun. The duality was astounding.

The last few weeks had been a little hard. There had been one bounty who had been relentless, and another who had tried to take a hit at you. It hadn’t taken long for you to put the bastard in his place but the Mandalorian had taken it a little more personally than you. Before throwing him into the carbonite, Din had broken a little more than six of the target’s ribs and given him a nice shiner on his left eye. He never minded when he was the one who had a punch or two thrown at him but when it was you? Din never took to it lightly. 

Once both bounties had been sent to their respective clients and you’d collected your rewards, Din had set the Crest’s path towards a jungle planet. It was one he had frequented a few years ago - before you, before the kid - and whilst it was a little desolate, it was safe. It was away from any Imps, any potential danger. It meant that you could both let your guards down for a bit and put your feet up. Plus, the Child had been dealing with cabin fever for the better part of two weeks and you were convinced you were going to lose it if you didn’t get the little fucker to some open space soon. Preferably one with lots of frogs, because he was not taking well to the freeze-dried food that you’d been fobbing him with him for the last few months. 

You were laying in an open field, weight propped up on your elbows as you glanced out into the grass over your sunglasses. Din was making his way back towards you, trudging through the long blades; the low evening sun was bouncing off the beskar of his helmet, causing you to scrunch your face up. You could tell from the way he was talking that he was exhausted. He’d been on kid duty all day (it was your turn tomorrow) and somehow, that was more tiring that any bounty. 

‘Where is he-’

Your question was answered before you could even finish it; the little creature suddenly appeared through the grass, hitting your shin with a thump. Digging his claws into your jeans, he scrambled up onto your legs, plopping into your lap and leaning against your stomach. He peered up at you with big brown eyes for a second, before twisting back around to rest his head against your chest for a nap. There went your evening plans.

‘Did he eat anything?’ You raised your arm out to Din, signalling for him to sit next to you.

Aside from his helmet, he had shed the rest of his armour. The material of the undershirt he was wearing was soft against your skin as you leant into his side, letting it a small hmph as you did. He instinctively wrapped his arm your waist - because even on a safe planet, Din was naturally protective - and pulled you closer, using his free hand to run a finger over the kid’s wrinkly head. 

‘I saw him swallow a frog whole.’ His modulated voice replied. ‘It’s still disturbing.’

‘Not as disturbing as when he ate the fish whole.’ You grimaced, glancing up at him. ‘The thing was bigger than him and he gulped it down. Biologically, it doesn’t work.’

‘Nothing about him makes sense.’ He said. 

‘The only thing that makes sense is that nothing makes sense.’ You joked. ‘But I guess we’ll find out a little bit more when we work out where the hell he actually came from.’

It was a subject you didn’t approach too much. You knew that one day, you’d have to hand him back over to his own species; it was all well and good to look after him when he was still small, but you had no idea what he was going to grow to be. Finding his home planet had sort of been a secondary quest for you and Din, between bounties. Given how slow the little bastard aged, time wasn’t too much of a concern. Knowing where to start was the problem.

‘I wish we could keep him forever.’ You quietly murmured. 

‘Me too, cya’rika.’ Din gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘But we have to do what’s right for him.’

‘I know.’ You nodded. ‘What do you think we’ll do after we’ve found his home? His species?’

It wasn’t something that Din had given much thought. He was so used to planning everything in the moment - hours ahead, at most. He hadn’t thought in terms of days, let alone weeks or years. It made sense to, because you weren’t going anywhere. He had an opportunity to have a life outside of being a bounty hunter; you’d shown him that much. He’d found a home with you - a sense of contentment and belonging - but in a physical sense, he’d never thought about settling on a planet. When he was younger, the idea of having his own children and his own clan had played on his mind, but it had faded as the years went by. Maybe it was time to revisit the idea.

‘We could get married.’ Din quietly suggested. ‘Start a clan of our own. Something permanent.’

‘I didn’t realise that the word permanent was in your vocabulary.’ You replied. 

‘It wasn’t. Not before you.’ He said. ‘There was a lot of things I never thought about before you.’

‘A clan?’ You intertwined your fingers with his, giving his hand a light squeeze. ‘In a few years, absolutely - but I am not doing it on that pile of junk.’

‘That pile of junk got us here.’

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head - but there was a smile on your face. ‘We don’t have to think about it now. One step at a time.’

There was silence for a minute, as you both pondered to yourselves. In the same way you hadn’t been part of Din’s plan, he hadn’t really been part of yours. When you’d met him, you’d never expected to fall in love with him. You couldn’t see his face, or his emotions or his feelings - but after a while, you saw him. It was though you had seen straight through the armour and right into his very soul without either of you trying. You were first person to see him as Din, and not as the Mandalorian. You understood his humanity, and the fact he wasn’t always a warrior; it meant he could let his walls down around you, and seek support and solace in a way he’d always thought to be terrifying. And it was, at first, but now it felt natural and healthy. He had you and you had him. Nothing else mattered.

‘I’ll go wherever you go.’ Din broke the quiet, eyes falling down to where the child lay in your lap.

‘You’d do that for me?’ You rested a hand on the side of his helmet; it was cold against your skin, but the gesture was there. ‘You’d give us all this up for me?’

‘I’m not giving anything up.’ He replied. ‘When I have you, I have everything I need.’

Din had always been blunt and straight to the point: sometimes it was a blessing, sometimes it was a curse. Right now, it was completely and entirely a virtue. It meant that you didn’t have to second guess his feelings for you, or worry about him leaving you. Everything he said to you was a promise. Talks of your future were mutuals goals, things to look forward to together. 

‘I love you.’ You pressed a kiss to the edge of his helmet. 

‘I love you too.’ Din replied. 

‘So let’s retire right now and get a moisture farm on Tatooine-’

‘- don’t push it.’ 

[dinthehottotty]

Cultural Differences - Part 1 - Din Djarin

Summary: Din proposes and you have no idea that you said yes. Not that you'd say no but you don't have the heart to tell him when you realize.

A/N: Before ya ask, yes, I do play assassin’s creed. I’m shamless, I don’t care.

Warnings: Fluff, maybe a sprinkling of angst, part two will have all the smut for @buttercup--bee​.

When you'd met Mando, you thought the same thing as everyone else from a glance. You believed him to be cold and dangerous. Very quickly did that entire idea go up in big, black smoke. It didn’t take long to watch this man ask for compliance rather than immediately demand it. He always did please and thank you’s when necessary and it was a surprise when that only got you hot and bothered.

Love was not on your radar when you joined his crew. Even now, months after you'd been working with him, you felt like you were pining for the man. That would imply that the awkward Mandalorian would ever foster the idea of a relationship with you. So instead you'd happily day dream your way through the days.

It was easy to do. There was no resentment at unspoken affection. You just loved both Mando and that little green bundle of wrinkles with everything in you. It always made you smile at how much he was an overprotective dad with his 50 year old baby. Even if he tried to deny that he was a dad now.

You found it too easy to tease him about it and your cute aggression reared it's ugly head. You were a person who's love language was physical touch. Constantly touching the bounty hunter surprised him in the beginning. But now it had no effect on him. You probably should have asked him more about Mandalorian culture because that would be your down fall with him.

It was a joke the first time you'd kissed his helmet. Planting a big, obnoxious kiss right on the top of his helmet when he was in the pilot seat and had maneuvered the razor crest out of quite the spot without killing you both. Now it was second nature to peck his helmet's cheek. A warm, friendly greeting when he'd returned from a hunt and when he departs for supplies. A quick smooch to his forehead and a pat to a pauldron as a thank you. Nudging his knee under the table at cantinas to tell him to calm down. A reassuring rub to his strong arms when Peli stresses him out too much. He even let you grasp his arm or thigh when you get excited about something. You were physically affectionate, you didn't think twice about gently bumping your forehead to his helmet when you were purposefully being annoying.

The last thing on your mind when doing this was actually whether or not Mando even thought much of it. He didn't tell you to stop, he never spoke about it, how were you to know.

One day, while Mando was on the floor trying to wear the kid out to go to sleep, you found teasing him all you could do. A light laugh bubbled up from you as his attempts failed repeatedly.

"Hand him over, Daddy." Squating down next to him. He turns his helmet towards you.

"I can handle it. Just go to bed," he orders, with no bark in his voice.

"Not a chance. Give 'im here." He heaves one of his heavy sighs before allowing you to scoop him up and into you. It was routine that you took the kid to bed most nights, Mando was okay with it, but he gives a frustrated sigh when the kid looks quickly like he's getting sleepy.

"Why is that so easy for you?"

"He's just used to me putting him to bed, Mando." You throw him a wink and bounce hip to hip as the kid jabbers sleepily.

There's a silence that feels a little heavy and the Mandalorian shuffles awkwardly. "I... I kind of wanted... nevermind," he cuts himself off, turning away.

That catches your attention very quickly. "No, no! Tell me, it's okay." Your hand darts out as he turns to leave and you catch his arm. He pauses even though he can easily push through it.

"I mean... you're like his mom. Kids like their mothers more. They sooth their children better and women are instinctivly better with kids." That startles you. Mando had never once referred to you as anymore than the kids nanny at any point. You weren't even originally hired to watch the kid.

You're cheeks flair up at that, burning uncomfortably and you feel... giddy perhaps? Did he think of you as a mom to his son? It catches you off guard.

"He definitely doesn't like me better," you reply softly and move closer. "I just put him to bed more often and it's close to bed time, that's all. Come here," you coax, your voice lowering to a warm tone. The bounty hunter twists reluctantly back towards you with slumped shoulders. The kid, who's half dozed in your arms, blinks up at him.

"He adores you, Mando, just take him."

"You don't have to-... its not a big deal."

"Take him," you insist. Finally he lifts the kid into his arms which makes the kid blink up with bigger eyes, a confused coo rising from him.

"Hes waking back up-"

"Shhh." You press forward, against Mando's arms as you run the pad of your thumb along the big ears. Softly you hum, no song in particular, and prompt the Mandalorian to sway with you both. It's a soft, intimate moment, that you never want to end.

It takes a few moments for the kid to settle back down and you hope it doesn't take to long but part of you longs for it not to end. The man-droid calling you his sons mother, or comparing you to one at the very least, is enough to fuel your longing for you employer with out a name for months.

At some point you glance up, expecting him to be watching his son. It paralyzes you when you find his visor trained on you. Gently you clear your throat, blush raising more on your cheeks.

"I didn't mean to overstep. I-"

Thunk.

The Mandalorian tilts his helmet forward and it knocks against your forehead suddenly. If you're honest, it actually hurts a bit with how hard he crashes his head into yours but suddenly the bunk feels so much smaller with him blocking the doorway. "You didn't." Is all he says, in his softest voice.

This was purposeful. He wanted to lean his head to yours. Not to be annoying. There was nothing practical about it, but he was doing it on purpose. Maybe he was feeling playful, you think. 

The both of you stay like that for a while, as you allow your eyes to close. It could have been seconds or hours but finally he shifts away to gently put the kid in his hammock.

"I have something for you." He admits.

"For me?" You repeat, a little dazed. He nods.

"You don't have to accept." You arch your eyebrow as you both exit the room and you watch him mosey over to his weapons vault. Your curious as you attempt to guess what it is mentally. You didn't need anything.

But then he drew out a bundle of fabric and brought it over with both hands. He doesn't say anything, instead he just holds the bundle. You pause, hesitantly taking it. It was heavy and solid with plenty of ridges. When you peel the fabric back, the beskar gleams and a surge of emotion rushes forward as you twist the gauntlet. As you look to the inside you see it, the hidden blade attached to the bottom, something you explained to him before.

A rite of passage from your assassin training on your home planet. Yours had long since broken and you couldn't wear it anymore and it had been two years. You’d only really brought it up to him once, cursing that you would of had the bounty he’d only had the chance to capture after he slipped from your grasp. Mando had given you a short, “I still got him,” and carried on until you were both in the safety of hyperspace. The bounty had been sealed away and you couldn’t even remember who it had been.

“Like a knife?” He prompts in a way that made you both confused and suspicious. 

“Knife? What knife?” you asked.

“You could have won the bounty if you had your blade?” he responded, he partially tipped your way. It was a bit odd of him to focus on that, a little out of character. You brushed it off, especially because he had previously explained that Mandalorians were religious about weapons. 

You hadn’t known much about them (really anything) before him. You just pegged him as having an unhealthy fixation about any type of new weapon.

“Oh, my hidden blade,” you hummed and leaned back, making a face. “It broke a while back. I was apart of an assassin’s group on my home world, they had a few initiation practices. The important one was when you get your hidden blade. It’s like a gauntlet without the hand and the blade sits on the inside of the wrist. When you flex your wrist, the blade extends. My safety broke on it, nearly lost my ring finger.” You’d wiggled your finger that had a deep scar on the inside of it. “Then the blade snapped clean in two and I haven’t found anyone to fix it. I have to go home, since the mechanisms are broken. There are so few of my people left, however, that I’ve just put it off.” Was your response. 

After that he’d never brought it up again. 

"Mando," your voice cracks as you glide your fingers across it. "Mando, it's beautiful." You slide it on. It's heavier than your used to, but it fits like a glove. A quick click and the blade shoots out with a flex of your wrist. "Thank you," you murmur before sinking the blade away and launching into a hug with him.

"Din." He says, making you peer up. "Din Djarin is my name." Your heart skips a beat against his chest. You gaze up at him for a moment, before smiling back down at it. You turn, switching the safety off, before twitching your wrist. The mechanism was backwards from what you were used to, but the shiny blade jutted out as fast as your original had. It’d take a while for you to adjust to the weight of it, but it’s like having a working prosthetic after missing a limb for years. 

“Din,” you test, “how did you get it to fit so well, my old one had straps I could adjust,” you ask. Drawing you eyes back up to the helmet, you let the big smile grow on your face. 

He clears his throat a bit and twists to look at the blade that slinked away almost soundlessly. “I... I would measure your wrist when I grabbed your arm. To move you or stop you while we were out.” You grin at him, switching the safety on so that you didn’t accidently stab him.

“I didn’t even notice!” You quickly, jerk forward and hug him. He squeezes you back eagerly but a thought occurs. “Wait,” you draw back to look at him. “This beskar, right?” 

“Yes.”

“I’m not Mandalorian, though. Won’t I get in trouble?”

“No, it’s given by a Mandalorian. There is no issue.” He promises and that’s the end of it because he thunks his helmet a little too hard against you again.

...

It goes on for months. Din suddenly being more physically affectionate with you. It makes you feel like you can have the softness that comes from a domestic relationship, the kind you never thought you could have. He called you something in Mando’a which seemed to change all the time. It was always at times you weren’t focused on what he was saying so you could never listen and try to look it up later. 

You had found a short list of terms people had translated from the lost and secretive language. Most were mean ones, and you’d only heard him use a couple of those, but never toward you... well... maybe one. But that’s not the point! You were so lost with him. 

It wasn’t until after nearly dying on Hoth, and then again on whatever water disaster of a planet this was. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. And when Din dove in after those fisherman launched the kid in to be fed, you ripped those black market trades apart in sheer rage. Fortunately, or un fortunately, Mandalorians arrived and slaughtered more. You were happy to not have Din or the kid drown, but your want of revenge was exponential.

In short, it was a really rough week. One of the worst since the kid had arrived. He wouldn’t stop eating the frog lady’s kids that you were transporting. Not that your really surprised, but you were at the end of your rope.

Sitting in a warm little bar was nice. Between the kid warming himself in your arms and Din’s casual hand on your knee, you were simmering down. You were pressing yourself into din’s side, hoping to leach some of your warmth between his armor. He wasn’t even shivering anymore.

After quite the shock for the both of you when the other three took their helmets off, you had now been stunned into an exhausted mode. Anger had disappeared and replaced it’s self with the same distrust you felt radiating off Din. Shock seems to be the trend on this planet because one moment you’re ready to hear about the fall of Mandalore and the next Bo Katan is twisting to look directly at you. 

“I find it strange that you’re wearing beskar at a black market beskar port.” She throws at you. Everyone glances at your wrist. 

“It’s a gift.” Your rumbling response is the first words you’ve spoken to her from your sour mood. She lifts a condescending eyebrow at you. 

“From you I assume?” She asks Din. 

“Yes.” Is his response. 

“Why a gauntlet?” Bo Katan makes a face. A flick of the wrist and the blade makes and appearance. Eyes widen. “Ah. An engagement gift.” Your brain stuttered in your head. 

“How romantic,” her sidekick, Koska chirps. You were waiting for Din to deny it, all the while rushing through the encounter of when he gave it to you. Had Din proposed? Were you engaged to him this whole time? You weren’t even sure if he saw you in a romantic light, nevermind him actually wanting to marry you. 

“I’m surprised you accepted a proposal from a watcher. Can’t be easy to love someone if you can’t see their face.” Bo Katan remarks. Din’s head turns a little towards you, he’s trying to read you right now. He’s waiting for your response. Had he done this on purpose? He wouldn’t do it out of malace, that you’re certain on. You wouldn’t put it past him to go this long into a relationship and not talk about his feelings. 

“Hardly.” Koska smirks towards Bo Katan and you feel Din slowly let out a breath from beside you. You gently nudge his side. 

“But to never kiss, to never see his face, might be harder than you think.”

“She can see me once were married.” Those words shock you more than the actual announcement that you were engaged. It sealed it for you as well. This surprises those sitting across from you. The ring leader grins suddenly. 

“You really should communicate better with your partner. I don’t think she realized that you were even engaged to begin with.” Din swivels his head and you bite your lip as you’ve been caught red handed.

“You didn’t?” He asks, more of a demand. You wince.

“No, but even if I did know, I still would have accepted.” Din sighs, next to you, clearly frustrated. “In my defense, the only thing you asked me was, ‘Do you accept,’ which granted is a little cryptic, if I’m being honest.” Din takes a deep breath, shaking his head at you. 

“What normally takes place on your world? A gift, correct?”

“Yeah, a ring! Not a hidden blade, you dork. I will say, I prefer this, it’s much more practical.”

“You don’t know anything about Mandalorians, do you?” Bo Katan prompts.

You pass her a look. “I’d never even heard of a Mandalorian before I met him.” All three of them have amused reactions and Din just sinks more into your side. You drop your hand down to his knee. 

The conversation takes a new direction after that and your thankful to not have the attention on you anymore. 

It’s not until you have agreed to help the three of them that the both of you decide to take the oldest (and smallest) clan member to the frog lady’s house.

“If you don’t behave,” you murmur, bristling in the cold ocean breeze rolling through the streets, “I will allow the frog lady to eat you, okay?” you promise the kid. Din pulls you to a stop and the kid perks his tucked ears up, prepared for your betrothed to deny that promise.

“Were you pulling their leg in there? Did you really not know we were engaged?” 

“I mean, I suppose you were pretty forward with me, but I had no clue.”

“You think I was forward?” he demands. Uh oh. You were not expecting that response.

“What... what did I do that was forward?” You hear yourself ask when your not sure you want the answer. Din shakes his head at you. 

“The keldabe kisses?” 

“The what kisses? You mean me kissing your helmet?” 

“That too. Obviously, I’m not able to kiss you the way you’re used to. I won’t be able to until were married, so what Mandalorians do instead is the keldabe kiss.” His hands are placed on your shoulders to hold you in place and he leans down, thunking his helmet against your forehead. “This.” 

You’re eyes go wide as you think about the many times that you basically laid a big one on Din. “Did... did you consider us being in a... romantic relationship before you proposed?” 

“I believed we were, you didn’t?” What a question. Mortification filled you and you could feel your cheeks burning despite the brisk wind. “Do... do you love me?” Your chest aches deeply at the insecurity in Din’s voice. The sound that rumbles isn’t like his warm and gentle tone he usually has. It’s brittle and frail.

“Of course I do! I just... I thought we were just really close friends, that you didn’t see me in that way so I bottled it up and hid it away. I mean... I wanted to mean more to you, but I just... maker, I feel so stupid.” The kid coos with confusion in your arms as you pull away. “Din, I’m sorry.” 

“Do you want to marry me?” He asks so softly it’s almost taken by the wind. You find yourself immediately folding into his arms.

“Yes, Din, yes, I want to marry you. I love you.” You murmur the last part against his cape, feeling to shy to look at him when you say it. His rigid body soften around you and suddenly you’re clutched tightly to his chest. Tighter than he’s ever held you. Ironically, for the first time all day it feels like you can actually breathe. 

“Good... good.” He breathes near you. 

“Can we get out of the wind for a bit?” you prompt.

“Yes, let’s go.” Not how you were expecting your day to start... or end. But there are worse endings to bad days.

Tagging:

@lxdyred​, @boliv-jenta​, @amidjarin​, @buttercup--bee​

[rainydaydream-gal18]

The Mandalorian - Imagine Din Being Protective (Part 4)

Wow.  I got it done during a lunch break, and I’m so happy.  This is set near the end of Season 2.   It is pretty long, just a fair warning. 

Warnings: spoilers for near-end of Season 2, blasters, brief fighting.

   You watched the unusual exchange unfold before you before Mayfeld’s gaze swept over the group before flickering back to land on you.  He seemed to puff out his chest a little as he eyed you with interest.  “And who’s this lovely miss?”  Wonderful.  Just fantastic.

   Over the last several days, you learned that the Empire had been steadily recuperating behind the scenes.  The Razor Crest had been obliterated in the matter of seconds.  But worst of all, the Grogu was taken.  It was like one giant nightmare that you were waiting to wake up from, only to find yourself lying in a cot aboard the Razor Crest.  But you didn’t.  Instead, you were standing in the middle of a junkyard to recruit a prisoner who could help locate the child.  

   Now to top it off, this scruffy guy was hitting on you?

   You gave him a look, arms folded across your chest.  “The name is _________.”

   “Yeah?  Nice name for a nice girl.”

   Cara Dune made a fake wincing sound.  “I would back off if I were you.”

   He gave a shrug.  “I don’t hear her complaining.”

   “You better hope she doesn’t,” Cara taunted, giving him a warning look.  

   Mayfeld narrowed his eyes.  “Or what?  The Mandalorian is going to shoot me?”  He gave a laugh, shaking his head at the idea.

   “Thinking about it,” Din sighed in annoyance, the beskar chestplate rising and falling dramatically with the gesture.  He stood, hand resting on his belt in a casual stance just across from you, completely unaware of how content you were observing him in moments like this.  A part of you wondered if his annoyance with Mayfeld stemmed from his past experience working with the man, or if even a small part was because of the obvious flirt attempt he made at you.

   The prisoner’s eyes widened and brows lifted incredulously as he gestured to you.  “What, is this your girl now?  Finally got over Xi’an, eh?”

   You tried to keep the surprise and curiosity from your expression at the mention of this female, but your eyes instinctively darted to Din, whose visor was still glued to Mayfeld and refused to look your way.  The man caught this subtle expression and smirked.

   “Oops, sorry,” he shrugged with mock regret.  “Didn’t tell her about the ex, I guess.  I’ll try and keep things on the down-low then until you have a chance to talk about it.”

   You hadn’t asked Din too much about his past.  He expressed his disdain for the way he used to be, so you figured it was something best left untouched until he was ready to speak more on the subject.  Of course you didn’t want to assume that he had never had a love interest before, but he seemed so closed-off when you met him.  It was hard to imagine anyone could melt that ice.  Unless this Xi’an was something special.

   You felt a twinge in your chest.  It was like jealousy walked through the front door unannounced and picked a place to crash for a while.  It wasn’t taking over, but could be bothersome if you paid too much attention.  So you decided not to.  There were too many other things to worry about.

   “Alright, let’s get moving,” Cara said impatiently.  “We’re wasting time.”

   You boarded Boba Fett’s ship, taking your seat as the others did. The new ally began the take-off, and several seconds passed in silence before Din spoke up.  Mayfeld scoffed at the idea of obtaining coordinates to Moff Gideon’s ship.  Cara sighed and informed him that the kid was taken.

   The kid.  The child.

   Your little baby.  You kept seeing his face, his tiny green features and big brown eyes.  You pictured him happy as he sipped some broth and smiled at you.  Or the time shortly after you learned from the former jedi that his name was Grogu.  You and Din spent the afternoon calling him that and sharing laughs at how his ears perked.  The image was replaced with the most recent memory you had of him, when he was ripped right from your arms by strange droids at the seeing stone. You glanced down at your arms, heart sinking.  The bruises those droids left had already healed from bacta patches, but your arms had never felt so empty.

   Your thoughts were interrupted by Din’s disbelieving tone.  “Morak?  There’s nothing on Morak.”

   “It’s a secret Imperial mining hub, okay?”  Mayfeld replied.  “If you can get me in there, I can get you the coordinates.”

   Silence fell over the group again.  Cara glanced your way, looking as if she wasn’t sure whether to believe the prisoner or not.  You gave a shrug.  This was Din’s idea, and if he thought it would work, you trusted him.

   Din commed Boba.  “Fett, punch in the coordinates to Morak.”

   “Copy that.”

----------

   “I did an initial scan of the planet,” Boba said.  “This is what you’re talkin’ about, right?”

   Mayfeld gave a nod, pointing to the holomap.  “Yeah, that’s the refinery right there.”

   “Wonder what they’re refining in there,” Fennec mused.

   “Looks like rhydonium.  Highly volatile and explosive.”

   “Yeah, kinda’ like this one, huh?”  Mayfeld chuckled, gesturing to Cara.

   From where you stood, you could see Boba’s look of unamusement and practically feel Din’s annoyance as the two stared at him.  That sight almost made you laugh, but the situation wasn’t exactly a laughing matter.

   The group speculated on the measures the Empire had taken to keep its refinery secure.  It didn’t sound like getting in would be very easy.  Fortunately, between a criminal, three bounty hunters, a New Republic officer, and you, a pretty decent plan was cooked up.  They were going to hijack a delivery truck and infiltrate the refinery that way.

   The question was, who?  Who was going to hop into the truck with Mayfeld?

   As it turned out, neither Cara nor Fennec could.  The ex-ISB had rigged the scanners, and both of them would be recognized in the database.  Even Boba couldn’t, and while the others stared at him in confusion, you chuckled under your breath.  You even heard a hint of amusement in his tone as he said that they might recognize his face.

   “Great, so it’s me going in alone,” Mayfeld shrugged.

   “No way,” Cara protested.  “The minute he gets inside, he’ll tip ‘em off.  He’ll be a hero.”

   “Hey, this wasn’t my idea,” he pointed out, offended.  “I’m doin’ you guys a favor.”

   “I can go.”  You spoke up much quieter than you intended, and the bickering didn’t stop, so you tried again.  “I can go with Mayfeld.”  At that, the conversations around you came to a halt as they considered the idea.  Cara nodded, impressed, while Mayfeld eyed you curiously.

“You, uh, sure you can handle it?”  He folded his arms.

“I’ve been traveling with Mando for a while now, and I’ve helped him and Cara on multiple occasions,” you told him.  “I think I can handle walking in there and laying low while you get the coordinates.”

He held his hands up in understanding.�� “Well, okay.  I think it’ll work.”

You stole a glance at Din to see his visor already fixed on you.  It was that stare.  The protective one that made you feel safe from everything else, yet vulnerable to him.  It was like the air was stolen from your lungs for just a moment.  You figured he would protest, but you hadn’t expected what he’d say next.

“I’ll go,” Din volunteered.

   Mayfeld’s gaze traveled to him, and he scoffed.  “Hey buddy, I might be good at fast-talking, but I don’t think I can explain away a guy in a Mando suit to Imperial guards.  So unless you’re gonna’ take off that helmet, it’s gonna’ be me and _________ heading in there.  Or say goodbye to your little green friend.”

   “That’s not an option,” you argued, feeling the pain well up at his words.  You couldn't imagine what Grogu was going through, even now as the lot of you debated how this situation was going to play out.  You didn’t want to think about it, but you kept seeing him reaching for you.

   Din’s words drew the gazes of the entire group.  “__________ isn’t going in there.  I’m coming with you instead.  But I won’t show my face.”

   “No, Mando, even if you’re going, I’m going too.”  You blinked away the tears that had just started to blur your vision, fortunately catching them before they fell, and looking at him with resolve.  “I can’t stand by and do nothing.  Not with our baby being held by the Empire.”

   It was suddenly quiet.  Much too quiet.  And that’s when you realized your mistake.  You hadn’t called Grogu the baby.  Or even just his baby.  You had definitely used the word our.  It made you want to vanish into the jungle- especially when you took in how the group was looking at you.  Cara’s lips parted in a surprised smirk as she tipped her head slightly.  Fennec raised a brow, though her expression didn’t betray her intrigue in any other way.  Even Boba Fett’s eyes seemed to soften; whether it was over your expression of care for the child or out of pity at your slip-up, you weren’t sure.  You didn’t even want to look at Din, but you found yourself staring into his visor, searching for some indication of his feelings on the matter.  There was nothing, just silence.  Mayfeld sighed, though it didn’t sound like exasperation.  It almost sounded sympathetic.

   “Look, typically for a delivery like this, there’s only two troops,” he pointed out, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.  You looked to him, glad for the attention to be taken off of you.  He caught your pleading gaze and let out another sigh.  “It’s uncommon, but not unheard of.  I think we can get by with the three of us.  But you gotta’ lay low, like you said.”  He pointed at you, and you nodded.  “Alright.  We’ve got to go.”

   The nerves were building up in your chest as you, Cara, Din, and Mayfeld dropped onto the juggernaut.  This wasn’t like going undercover at the cantina.  This was a whole other experience entirely, but you felt ready.  Before long, the two troops were taken out, and their armor taken away.

   Din disappeared around a corner to change out of his Mandalorian armor and into the Imperial trooper gear.  Mayfeld complained about the smell of his newly acquired armor, and you were grateful to be wearing the spares that were tucked away.  You found a spot on the juggernaut to slip the armor on.  It wasn’t built for a female, so it wasn’t the best fit.  Still, it would have to work.

   Suddenly, Mayfeld chuckled.  “Look at this.”  You peeked your head out of the juggernaut to see what looked like a trooper approaching, but you knew to be Din.  “Oh, the shame.  Now that right there is worth the price of admission.”

   “Wish I could say it looked good on you,” Cara said, smirking.  “But I’d be lying.”

   Din ignored her statement.  “Just make sure you take out the rooftop gunners, or we’re never getting out of there.”

   “We got you.”

   “Take care of this.”  Din handed her the duffel with his Mandalorian armor.  “Keep it safe.”  As Cara took it, she assured him with a sincere look that she would.  You knew she would.  Like you, she knew what it meant to him.

   “Hey guys. Still on the clock,” Mayfeld reminded them.  “Me and _________ are all ready to go.  Right?”  He leaned over and gave your boot a nudge from where he sat.

   You shrugged and were glad to pull the trooper bucket over your head.  For once, you could be the mysterious face under the helmet.  “I’m ready when you’re ready.”  Not to mention your voice sounded pretty cool in the modulator.  Such a shame that it was a stormtrooper helmet because you could get used to this.

   While Mayfeld was busy taunting Din in an unsuccessful attempt to get a reaction, you looked to Cara.  

   “Wish me luck.”

   “Oh, I will.”  She shot a glance at the chatty man.  “Considering the company you’re going to have.”  Then she looked back at you with that smirk from before.  “So what was that about earlier?”

   You pulled the Imperial bucket off your head so that the modulator wouldn’t broadcast your voice.  “I don’t know what happened, Cara.  I can’t believe I said that.  We’re definitely more than travelling companions at this point.  I care a lot about him. I think I even... ”

   She nodded, smirk becoming a more reassuring smile.  “I understand.  It seems like he feels the same about you.”

   “Still, I’m afraid that I overstepped in calling Grogu our child.”  You shook your head.  “He hasn’t spoken to me since.”

   “Well there’s not a whole lot of time to talk, and it’s the kinda’ thing that takes time to sort out,” she pointed out.  “I’m sure it’ll be fine-”

   “Hey, if you two ladies are done, we have to get moving,” Mayfeld called.

   “Yeah, yeah,” you groaned, pulling the helmet over your head again.  You clambered into the front of the juggernaut to get situated.  The two guys were already seated and taking a look at the vehicle’s controls.  Mayfeld seemed content to be with his helmet off, while Din of course kept his on.

   “Feels better when it’s off,” he commented, glancing over at his companion.  Din’s trooper helmet simply turned to look in his direction.  He gave a smile in response before turning his attention to the road again.  “__________, you too, huh?”

   “I don’t ever get to wear a helmet, so I’m just enjoying this while it lasts.”

   “You’re enjoying this?” Din asked.  His tone didn’t seem to carry any disdain, just innocent curiosity.

   “Well, not this.  I mean the helmet.  It’s nice to have some privacy when I’m surrounded by people who get to cover their faces.  You guys don’t know whether I’m smiling or what in here.”

      “You’re smiling right now,” Din said, making you turn your visor in his direction suddenly.

   “How did you know that?”

   “I can hear it in your voice.”  And as if to prove his point, you picked up on the amusement in his tone as well.

   Right.  You forgot for a moment that he had a lifetime to discern emotions through helmets, being that he was a foundling in a Mandalorian community and all.

   “You know, you two are just adorable,” Mayfeld interjected humorously.  “Seriously, I’m touched.”

   The conversation died down again after that.  You were rather pleased with the exchange you had with Din.  At the very least, he didn’t seem irritated with you about your earlier statement.  Things seemed to be going rather smoothly.

- - - - - - - - - 

   You’d never been so happy to see Imperial troops in your whole life.  As Mayfeld pulled the juggernaut into the safety of the Empire base, they flooded the bridge and fought off the oncoming pirates.  Din had re-entered the vehicle, groaning in pain from his fight.  You noticed his armor had been busted off in some places from the fight.

   “Mando,” you said softly, hand on his forearm.  

   His visor looked to you as he said in a strained voice, “I’m alright.”  His reassurance put you somewhat at ease.  You knew he wasn’t really fine- he had injuries- but he was okay.  He made it.

   “Never thought you’d be happy to see stormtroopers.”  Mayfeld saluted the line of troops that saluted and waved as the vehicle passed by, most likely to make things convincing.  He and Din stepped out of the juggernaut to be met with actual applause and cheers.  One even clapped a gloved hand on Mayfeld’s shoulder in congratulations.  It would have been heartwarming if not for the fact that it was the Empire, and these people were working toward an oppressive future.  You hopped out of the vehicle, glad to be on solid ground and not on a shaky roadtrip with rhydonium in the back.

   “Okay,” Mayfeld said.  “All we gotta’ do is find a terminal.”  You moved to Din’s other side, and the three of you began making your way through the crowd of cheering troops.  His gloved hand took yours for just a moment and gave it a light squeeze, and you returned the gesture before separating.  “Should be in the officers’ mess.”

   “I’ll stand by and keep an eye out,” you said.

   “Good,” Mayfeld nodded.  “We’ll make it quick.”  You watched as the two men headed for the mess hall, and you found a spot along the wall to wait, bucket tucked under your arm.  The occasional trooper stopped by to congratulate you or give you a pat on the back.  This extended contact with Imperials was starting to get to your nerves.  

   Mayfeld and Din still hadn’t returned.  Whether you were being paranoid or not, you weren’t sure.  Better to play it safe.  You headed in the direction they had gone earlier, helmet still under your arm, and tried to act casual.  Mayfeld was standing at the doorway, eyes shifting between the floor and his surroundings.  No sign of Din.

   “Where is he?” you demanded.  “Is he okay?”

   “He’s in there.”

   You followed his gaze to the mess.  Everyone in the room had their helmet off.

   “I don’t see him.”

   Mayfeld sighed.  “He’s over there by the terminal.”  Both of you leaned in to sneak a glance, and you gasped softly.  You saw his form standing there in the very back, head of messy brown hair.  “I couldn’t go in.  He had to do a facial scan to get the information.”

   “You could’ve gotten me to do it.”

   “That’s exactly what I said.”  He shook his head.  “But we wasted enough time as it is.  He was worried about you going in there alone.  You know, he’d really do anything for that kid, and for you.”

   Oh, Din.

   “Trooper,” an officer said, and his eyes were fixed on the dark-haired man in the corner that you knew was the man you’d fallen for.  He rose from his seat, and your heart was pounding.

   “We need to do something,” you said.

   Mayfeld shook his head, eyes on the floor.  “I can’t.  I already said can’t go in there.”

   “Fine, I’ll do it.”  You straightened up, taking a deep breath, and quickly walked through the mess until you intervened the officer’s path.  “Sir.  You called for me, sir?”

   He paused, eyes narrowing, as he stared at you.  “I was referring to another trooper.  The one by that terminal.”  He moved to get around you, but you side-stepped to block him again.  “I’m sorry, you’re sure there’s nothing I can help you with?”

   He gave you a condescending look.  “No, but thanks anyway.”

   You hoped that Din had escaped the mess because there was nothing more you could do unless you caused a big scene, which was not in the plan.

   “Trooper,” he continued, stepping around you.  But to your surprise, he was faced with another.  Din had walked over.  Inwardly you burned at the thought of the Imperial officer looking at his face.  You averted your gaze, feeling as if it would be wrong not to.  Even though you wanted nothing more than to drink in his features while you could.  

   “You should pay attention when a superior officer addresses you,” the man said.  He tipped his head to one side in observation.  “What’s your designation?”

   Din spoke, voice unmodulated and sounding so small.  You’d never heard him sound so unsure before.  “Transport crew.”

   “What?” 

   “My designation is transport copilot,” Din said, forcing his tone to sound confident as possible to make it more convincing.  

   “No, son,” the officer chided.  “What’s your TK number?”

   “My TK number is…” He hesitated, and you could do nothing but stand aside and wait, holding your breath.  How many numbers were in a TK number, anyway?

   “This is my commanding officer, TK-593, sir,” Mayfeld’s voice interjected as he strolled in front of you.  He spoke so casually that you were sure he’d pull it off.  “I’m Imperial Combat Assault Transport Lieutenant Tk-111, sir.”  He gestured to you.  “This is TK-501.”  Then, he glanced at Din.  “I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up to him a bit since his vessel lost pressure in Taanab.”

   Your eyes wandered past Mayfeld, catching another glimpse of dark, messy hair.  To some it might seem a minor thing, but to you it was adding to the escalating situation.  Brown eyes locked with yours, and your breath hitched.  Din was looking at you.  There was a trace of warmth in his eyes, and your hesitation vanished.  You took in the way his brows furrowed slightly over his eyes, crinkling them at the edges.  You memorized each feature.  His nose.  This cheekbones.  The handsome way he seemed to be looking right back you.  You quickly turned your gaze back to the officer in front of you who looked in Din’s direction.

   “What’s your name, officer?” he belted, enunciating each word.  Seeing Din’s face had been a shock, and in the middle of the stress, this officer’s behavior almost made you laugh, but you swallowed the giggle that threatened to make things worse and kept your composure.  The officer leaned in, waiting for a response.

   Mayfeld took the liberty of answering instead.  “We just call him ‘Brown Eyes.’  Isn’t that right, Officer?”  Din’s eyes flickered over as he gave a hesitant nod.

   “Come on,” Mayfeld landed a hand on his shoulder and his other one on yours to lead you away.  “Let’s go fill out those TPS reports, so we can go recharge the power coils...”

   “You’re not dismissed.”

- - - - - - -

   In short, things had gone from bad to worse.  Mayfeld was growing shakier by the minute as this guy ranted about the Empire and the sacrifices that were made so far.  You kept glancing at Din, who looked just as concerned as you, as Mayfeld visibly became more distressed.

   Finally he raised a blaster and shot the sick man across the table.  It turned into a firefight that ended just as swiftly as it began.  Once the mess hall had quieted, Mayfeld handed Din his trooper helmet.

   “You did what you had to do,” he said.  “I never saw your face.”

   Din stared at him for a moment before accepting the helmet.  He quickly put it back over his head just as more troopers arrived on the scene.  You sprung into action, pulling out the blaster at your belt and firing.

   From there, it was just a quaint little trip out the window and along a ledge above roaring waters of the refinery with several stormtroopers in pursuit.  Shots were fired.  You ran.

   It wasn’t until you were pulled further onto Boba’s ship by Din that you were able to stop and breathe.  Mayfeld was set free by Cara and Din after he blew up the Imperial refinery, and after he left, Boba set a course for Moff Gideon’s ship.  For the first time in a while, you and Din had a moment alone as he found the duffel bag of Beskar armor.  He paused as if thinking it over, before setting the duffel back down.  The stormtrooper visor was focused on you again.  You had long removed yours, and so you gazed back with your own eyes.  Suddenly, he placed a hand on either side of his helmet and slowly began to lift.

   “Din,” you whispered, quiet enough so no one else would hear, as you gently stopped him with the touch of your hand to his wrist.  He let go of the helmet only to put his hand over yours.

   “You need to know,” he began.  “About Xi’an.”

   “What?  No, no, there’s no need.”

   “I could tell it bothered you.”

   “Well, yes… Mayfeld made it sound like she was rather important, like you just finally got over her, and it bothered me that you never mentioned her.”  You shook your head.  “But I guess there was no reason for you to.”

   “There was nothing to get over,” he said simply.  “We flirted here and there.  It wasn’t anything real.  It wasn’t love.  I think Mayfeld was just bitter because you weren’t responding to his attempts.”  The chuckle that emitted from Din’s stormtrooper helmet made you smile.  It was a sound that you never imagined getting used to.

   You couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped your lips.  “Thank you.”

   “For what?”

   “For talking with me,” you replied.  “I was worried that after earlier you were irritated.”

   “Earlier?” His tone went higher ever so slightly in realization.  “Oh, right.  Your turn to talk.”

   “My turn?” you gulped.  “No way.  Let’s just forget it happened.”

   You could almost hear the amusement as he tipped his head, the visor staring at you in silence.

   You sighed in defeat, observing your hands as you fiddled with the stormtrooper gloves.  “Alright, well...the truth is, it sort of slipped out.  I think of the kid as yours because, well, you’ve been looking after him since before I met you.  And the Mandalorian we spoke to said that you are as his father, by creed.”  You paused, glancing up at his visor before continuing.  “But...I’ve also come to think of him as my own as well.  When I met the two of you, of course I thought he was a cute little guy, but I never imagined I could love someone so much.  I adore Grogu, really, even though I haven’t cared for him as long as you…”

   “That does not matter.”

   “What?”

   “It doesn’t matter that I’ve known him longer.  You care about him, and that’s what’s important,” Din nodded.

   “I do care about him.  As my own.  And with the two of us…”

   His visor was so close all of a sudden.  “The two of us…?”

   You ducked a little, recalling how he embraced you on that planet after a tense training session.  “You know.”

   “Do I?” he teased in a low voice, helmet even closer.

   “With the two of us together, sort of, I guess I thought of us as a family...I guess.  And it slipped out earlier.  In front of all those people.”  You raised a hand to cover your face in embarrassment at the memory.  Din didn’t say anything for a moment.  He reached up to pull your hand from your face gently, and with the other he lifted the stormtrooper helmet off with a deep breath.

   As you peered into those brown eyes once more, you smiled.  He smiled too then, the movement making his eyes crinkle.  It was a lovely sight, and you lifted a hand, pausing just below his chin.

   “Is it okay?”

   He gave a small nod, and you reached up to touch his cheek.  It was a little stubbly toward his jawline.  Then you went up to start at the crease between his brows and trace down the length of his nose to his lips.  He tenderly took that hand in his and kissed the fingertips.

   “We’re going to get him back,” he said.

   You smiled again.  “I know we will.”  Then, your smile faded.  “And if we find where he belongs, with a jedi, then I am prepared to do what’s best for him.”

   His eyes look sad as he responded, “me too.”

   “For now,” you said quickly.  “Next stop is Moff Gideon’s ship.  We are going to take him down and get Grogu back.”

   With that, Din leaned in and planted a feathery light kiss on your lips.  It was something you had not expected since the moment you first laid eyes on the Mandalorian.  You never imagined that you’d end up with him, seeing his face, or kissing him.  You returned the kiss, touching his cheek again as you let him pull you closer, wrapping both arms around you.

   The last few days had felt like a nightmare that you hoped to wake up from.  But now it seemed that even in the darkness there was a glimmer of hope.  The nightmare would give way to a dream.

[greenygreenland]

Tired: Omega x Platonic! Slicer! Reader

-Hi I’m back from the dead

-i write for females, keep that in mind (sorry, it's what I'm comfortable with, so I hope you understand!)

-but really, I write in 2nd POV, so you can't tell for the most part

REQUESTED

Summary: You're a former bounty hunter who's also a slicer for the GAAR. You meet Omega by chance.

Tired. That was the only thing that could describe your mental state. Being assigned to mission after mission was no fun, especially when it was solo. You were a civvie slicer, one who the GAAR hired by chance due to your reputation.

By reputation, that meant ex-mercenary-who-so-happened-to-have-a-knack-or two-for-technology. The clones were nice to you though. For the most part, they didn't care about your previous occupation because it wasn't the first time anyone's hired Bounty Hunters for the GAAR.

The low hum of the ship helped to ease your building worries. You wondered what the boys of Clone Force 99 were up to. It was no secret that you were part of the complete package. No one knew how you and them got along when you were a civvie. Being outsiders themselves, they hated anyone who wasn’t part of their group. But not you. You were different. Kind. Caring. Understanding.

That thought made you frown. You missed the boys. They had been gone for at least seven rotations without comming you once. The fact that they promised didn't help their cause either. Were they okay? Maybe one of them got hurt, or worse, killed? Maker forbid such a thing.

"They better come back to me in one piece, or I'll have them begging on their knees for forgiveness..."

Beep, beep, beep!

You jolted upright, swinging your legs out form under you as you hurriedly fumbled for the holoprojector. You tapped a button and the cockpit flooded with a soft, blue light. "Tech!" you cried. "It's been seven rotations! Why haven't you commed me?" He removed his helmet with a sheepish shrug. "We've been busy of course. And it's seven rotations and fifteen hours, meaning--"

"Yeah, yeah." you cut in with a sigh. "I don't like the idea of not coming with you guys on missions. I know you're just as capable--more if you want me to be honest--but that doesn't mean I can't worry."

There was a rustle behind Tech and he looked over his shoulder. Hunter came into view, an apologetic look in his eyes. "Sorry we didn't comm you. With all that's gone down, I wouldn't say we've had the time." You flopped down in your chair helplessly. "I know, it's just..."

Hunter smiled warmly. "Don't worry about us (Y/n)." Tech pushed up his glasses and nodded in agreement. "If there's anyone who we should be worrying about, it's you. You go on solo missions six out of nine times. We have each other but you only have yourself."

"Wow, I feel so much better Tech." You sarcastically muttered. "Speaking of mission, I'm on my next one."

Hunter knitted his brows. "Where?"

"Skako Minor."

"Skako Minor?" they echoed. You nodded. "Something strange is going on there. According to Rex, the Seppie battle plans have been drawn exactly like the ones he used to do with Echo--that’s one of his men." You recalled the face of that fallen soldier. He was always so sweet to you, giving a wave whenever you passed and smiling as brightly as he could. To say you missed the poor boy was an understatement.

"Isn't Skako Minor under the Techno Union?" inquired a coiled voice. Crosshair made his way into the frame and unceremoniously squeezed himself between his brothers. "You better not be going alone." You waved it off. "Even if I did, it’s fine. I can take care of myself.”

“Like the time you nearly fried yourself with a loose wire on that rock in the Outer Rim? Yeah, I don’t think so.” You averted your gaze to the side in embarrassment. No one needed to remind you of that rookie mistake. You could have gotten yourself killed. The watts were off the chart there. “That was one time. I’m a master at this stuff, don't worry. And besides, Cody, Rex, Jesse, and Kix are with me." Cross's brows shot up. "You're working with regs?"

"Don't worry, they're seasoned soldiers from the 501st.” That was the truth, and you meant it. Working under Rex for months made it clear to you. During that time, he taught you a thing or two about mechanics. “General Skywalker’s men are more than capable. So is Cody."

Cross looked doubtful, and you couldn't blame him. This was enemy territory you were sneaking into. It didn’t matter who you had on your side, because anyone could make a mistake.

A deep laugh echoed from over Cross’s shoulder. Wrecker set down his gonk droid, Lula in the other hand. “You guys need to have faith in (Y/n),” he reminded with a grin. “She’s smarter than me, and she’s always kept up with us. Is there anything she can’t do?” Tech pushed his glasses up with a challenging look. “Uh, actually--”

“Just be careful.” Hunter concluded. “We want to see you back in one piece.” You nodded in understanding. “Copy that, Sarge.” He smiled, and it was filled with unsaid words of care. Cross sent you a nod, eyes all mushy and soft while Tech knitted his brows together worriedly. Wrecker grinned, and it was so bright that it could have blinded you.

“Same goes to you Batchers,” you stated seriously. “Come back to me in one piece, or I’ll come over there and kill you myself.” Tech looked like he wanted to comment on that, but he sensed the shift in mood and kept his mouth shut. You memorised their faces as best as you could. It would be a while until you saw them next.

The hologram flickered out and the soft glow of blue hues disappeared. The cold, dim lighting of the ship fell over you. “Well that’s that.” you muttered with a weak smile. Rex patted your shoulder comfortingly. “They really care about you.”

“Yeah. But it wasn’t always like that. I used to be a stranger too.”

The rest of the ride was spent with the occasional joke from Jesse. He made you laugh, and it helped to soothe your worries. But then the ship landed, and you were thrust into a battle zone. You were thankful Anakin made you wear heavier armour today. If he hadn’t, then you probably would have been vaporized on the spot.

“We need cover!” shouted Rex. That was a no-brainer. Being out in the open at the bottom of a ravine was not in the least tactical. “SBDs!” you called. “Twelve o’clock!”

Jesse raced past you. “Get down!” He threw an EMP. It wasn’t as effective as you hoped it would be. If the Bad Batch were here, this situation would have been completely different. You were on your own. There was no cover, save for the piles of smoking durasteel and the very armour strapped to your vulnerable limbs.

You were in a head-on battle.

“I guess we don’t have much of a choice.” You charged forward, tossing a few EMPs as you blasted away. The best you could do was nail them in the head and hope for the best. Jesse was right beside you, with Cody, Kix, and Rex following suit.

“I didn’t think you would be this daring!” called Jesse. You blasted a few droids and kicked another in the head. It fell with a clank and you smothered it in a healthy dose of blaster fire. “I wasn’t about to be bested by a couple of rust buckets!” you retorted with shake of your head. “Come on, we need to get to that tower.”

You made quick work of the droids. You were no Jango Fett, but you managed with the help of the Regs. Cody congratulated your work and motioned for the squad to continue on. “It’s obvious the enemy knows we’re here. I have my doubts on sneaking in, but perhaps we can manage...”

Past the commando droids, through the front door, then up the lift and a little further down a couple halls. Before the mission, Rex had pulled you aside to speak in private. He thought Echo was alive and that whatever was sending out those Seppie battle plans had to be him. But you weren’t about to get your hopes up. Not when so many of your friends long marched far, far away.

You stopped by a door and plugged in your datapad. “I need to slice open the door. I’m not about to challenge fate here with a charge.” Jesse nodded in understanding. “I’d rather come back with all my legs and arms, thank you very much.” He turned to keep guard as Cody stood close to your side. “Is this the control room?”

“Yes.” The door swished open and you disconnected your ‘pad from the panel. “I’ll slice the computer and retrieve the information we need. Rex, I need you for this portion.” He nodded in understanding and followed suit. You connected your datapad to the communications table. A hologram appeared, where dates and names passed by in the blink of an eye.

“You said this might be Echo.” you quietly stated. Rex nodded. “I can’t be sure, but there isn’t another explanation.” You watched as the information scrolled past at the speed of light. There wasn’t anything of use so far. Only old reports, check-ins and...

The scrolling froze. A file opened up, filling the room with a voice you wouldn’t ever forget. It was scratchy and lifeless, but you were sure it had to be the man who went KIA so long ago. “That’s...”

“Echo’s alive.” Rex affirmed. “It--it has to be him.”

“We’ve got company!” called Jesse.

You transferred the file and stuffed your ‘pad in a safe spot for keeping. “In case anything happens, I’m transferring the data over to you.” you stated. “I wouldn’t want to lose any of this.” The two of you rushed out of the room in a frenzy. Blaster fire sounded above, whizzing way over your head as you sprinted down the hall. The lift wasn’t far, only a couple metres. You just had to run a little more and--

BOOM!

Had a droid thrown a charge? You turned to Rex, eyes wide as he turned to face you. With all of the strength you could muster, you shoved him out of the way. Another BOOM!. You turned just in time to see the flash of brilliant reds and oranges.

The force threw you into the transparisteel windows, which spider-webbed out in long cracks. You were suddenly flying out of the four story building. Shards cut past your face and through your sleeves, tearing away at flesh and fabric without an ounce of mercy. If only you had a doshing jetpack.

“(Y/N)!”

You didn’t scream, but Maker did it kriffing hurt. There was a sickening crack, another blinding flash of sharp pain. You held back a cry.

Just be careful. We want you back in one piece.

Your vision faded in and out. Black blurred the galaxy as you knew it.

I'm sorry, boys.

You fell into the painful jaws of darkness.

-----

The first thing that hit your nose was the sterile smell of bacta. Your eyes fluttered open and you found yourself staring at the blank ceiling of the medbay. The incessant beeping of the heart monitor caught you off guard. How hard did you fall? Much less, what did you break?

A head of dirty blonde hair peeked over the edge of your bed. Her eyes, wide with curiosity made you knit your brows together. She was young, much younger than any girl here should be. You were about to sit up, but the girl frantically straightened.

"You're not supposed to be getting up." She gently pushed you back down. "You have a lot more than a few broken bones." That was when the pain began to settle. You stilled under the thin medbay sheets. "I need to comm someone."

"Now?" the girl incredulously inquired. "You're hurt, you have to rest first." But that was the least of your problems. Where was Rex? Had he completed the mission? How long were you out? Were Jesse, Kix, and Cody alright? You winced and the girl frowned.

"If it makes you feel better, there were a few people who came to visit."

That didn't make you feel better. It meant they saw you like this, in the most vulnerable state you could ever be in. "Who are you?"

The girl pointed at herself like she'd never been asked that before. "Me?" You nodded. "I'm Omega." She smiled and it was a little shy and toothy. "You've been asleep for a while. I thought you weren't going to wake up for another day." You tensed and pursed your lips together. "How long?"

"A week, I think." Omega said. "But it's okay! You're recovering steadily." That wasn't the issue. Recovering steadily wasn't good enough because you were missing out on a mission you needed to complete. If Echo really was alive, then you had to save him. It was the least you could do after he put his life on the line for you so many times before.

"I have to..." You pushed your aching body up. "I have to go."

"No!" Omega forced you back down. "Even if you could walk, you can't fight."

"But I have to..." The look on Omega's face made you pause. She was so small, and in that little body of hers, she stored up a good amount of worry for you. How could you say no to that? A sigh escaped your lips and you begrudgingly relaxed onto the bed.

Omega's shoulders slumped in relief. "I'll get a your holoprojector." You raised a brow with a watchful eye as she scurried away. She rummaged through a lone cabinet in the corner of the room. Your clothes sat there, belt, holsters, blasters and all. Omega pulled out your holoprojector, closed the cabinets, and handed it to you.

"I washed your clothes too if you're wondering," she said with a small smile. "But don't think about going anywhere! You can't walk with broken legs."

A pit formed in your stomach. You can't walk with broken legs. That wouldn't be true if you had seen the blast. If you had ran faster. Maybe you wouldn't have ended up like this, a mess of bandages, casts, and bacta patches. If only you had seen it coming.

"Hey, (Y/n)?" You didn't question how Omega knew your name. Whoever she was, she had to be a someone to wear Kaminoan jewellery anyway. "What is it?" Your voice was quiet, sad almost. Omega played with a loose thread on her sleeve. "That was very brave of you." She stepped closer to the bed and pulled up a chair. "Captain Rex came by this morning. He told me that you saved him from that blast."

You shifted to meet her gaze as best as you could. The holoprojector weighed your hand down like a ten kilo weight. "I just...reacted. Nothing special to congratulate." Omega shook her head. "No, that's everything. If it were me, I don't think I'd be able to do that."

A pull in your gut told you she meant what she said. Your eyes softened. You didn't meet her gaze. Maybe that was because you couldn't. It was a hard enough fact accepting that you were injured, adding on that you were going soft didn't help your cause.

Omega took it as her signal to give you some privacy and exited the room. The doors swished shut behind her, leaving you in a much needed silence. You tapped the projector. It opened up, bathing the snow white room in soft blue hues.

"Rex." you greeted. "I apologize for my absence." His brows were knitted, eyes all sad and cloudy. He tried to keep a straight face, but you knew better. Of course you did. He was your best friend since the moment you joined the GAAR. "What's wrong?"

He shook his head. "I should be asking that to you. Are you alright? That fall was..." He paused and it was like he was choking back tears. "I-I'm sorry. If I had just been more careful, then you wouldn't be..."

"Rex, I'm fine."

"You can't walk." he muttered. "And you can't do much on your own. I took away your independence, this is all my fault." You knitted your brows together. His words made your heart ache, and the very thought of what he faced on his own without you didn't help. Your lips pulled into a frown deeper than Kamino's oceans. "That's not all, is it Rex?"

He clenched a fist as if it would help cease his rolling emotions. "E-Echo...if you had seen him. I'm just glad you weren't there."

"Is he alive?"

"Yes."

"Well where is he?" You had to fight the urge to sit up in anticipation. He was alive. That sweet, loving boy who taught you about protocols and manuals. As boring as it was, all those regulations embedded into your mind saved you more than you'd like to admit. He and Fives always snuck up on you whenever they came back from missions, or commed you in the middle of the night.

They both kept you up at night, but you never minded. Now one of those boys who had marched so far away had the chance of coming home.

"Where is Echo?" you inquired. Rex's eyes fell to the floor. "He's...Watt Tambor made him more machine than man. I-I can't..."

The doors swished open.

"...If only we had..." You shook your head. "Rex, there wasn't anything we could do. It was a miracle you found him in the first place."

The doors closed with a low hiss.

"Found who?"

Your eyes widened and you ripped your gaze away from the projection. A set of worn, tired eyes met yours. He looked different from the bottom up. His new armor, black and red with a familiar 99 on it. His smile, though a bit dampened, remained the same. He made his way over to you and took a seat by your bedside.

"Echo?"

"That's me."

You tried a smile, and it was all watery and shaky. "Oh, you've changed." He chuckled. "So have you. I heard about what happened. That was brave of you." No, it wasn't brave. You did it on instinct, without an ounce of hesitation. "It wasn't brave, I just..."

"Who else is crazy enough to jump in front of an explosion without katarn-class armour?"

You could name a few people. Fives, for example. "Whatever. I just--I'm glad you're alive."

He smiled and it was a little broken. "Me too."

---

Before you knew it, you were up and running again. There was no time to walk because you were needed on a mission today. It was completely solo, but thankfully, a simple retrieval mission with little to no chances of a casualty.

You settled in the cockpit, taking in the familiar scents and smells of the well oiled machinery. Mechanics wasn't your strong suit, but you never minded dabbling in it every now and then. Today, there wasn't time to brush up on your beautiful ship. You had a job to do.

The jump to hyperspace was as smooth as ever. There were no creaks, no fumbling through space, and no bursts of smoke. But that was when you heard a crash from the storage room. Last tine you checked, the door had been sealed shut while the weapons and supplies stowed away as they should be.

Had you forgotten to tie them down? A long sigh escaped your lips. "What a pain."

"So is my backside." piped a chipper voice. Your eyes widened. There was no way you heard that voice correctly. Sure, it was young. You knew a few other people with a young voice. Sure, it sounded girly. You knew a couple other female coworkers.

"Sorry I snuck onboard," the voice added. "I promise, I was going to leave, but then you left and--" You swerved the chair around to face Omega head on. She smiled sheepishly, as if it would fix all the problems in the whole galaxy. Maybe it would have if the whole galaxy were as kind as you.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't turn this ship around and bring you back." you stated. Omega fiddled with the hem of her sleeves like it was the most interesting thing on the ship. "You’re short on time?" You resisted the urge to say something snippy in response. The look of uncertainty on Omega’s little face made you feel just the tiniest bit worried.

Maybe that was because uncertainty could get people killed on the battlefield.

"Omega," you placed a hand to your temple, "do you understand what you've gotten yourself into?" This was bad, really bad. Sure, the mission wasn’t as dangerous as it should have been, but intel was like the weather forecast. It was never correct. Taking Omega along with you wasn’t a good idea in any universe, and like Malachor you’d let her into the crossfire.

“I’m sorry.” She wasn’t sorry. “I didn’t mean to sneak aboard.” She definitely meant to sneak aboard. “I just wanted to do something more than...” She let out a short sigh, as if it explained what she couldn’t put into words. “Being on Kamino all the time is so boring. I want to get out and see the galaxy with my own eyes.”

She threw her arms towards the bright blue of hyperspace. You didn’t miss the look of wonder in her eyes, bright as a sun. “There’s more to life than rain and the ocean and the same people I see every single day!”

You couldn’t argue. Omega was right. Even during your recovery, the frustration of not being on your ship doing anything but sitting settled into you every day. You hated being cooped up in one place more than anything. Poor Omega had to put up with it her whole life, it was nearly unfathomable to understand what she felt.

A sharp sigh escaped your lips. “Fine, you can come. But my only condition is that you stay on the ship.”

Omega did not stay on the ship. More than anything, she was curious. She had no clue what dirt was, what kind of plants were carnivorous and deadly, or how to steer clear of all the battle droids.

You raised your blaster and fired at the rust buckets. “This is exactly why I said you should have stayed on the ship! Can you even fire a blaster?” Omega knitted her brows together and eyes the deece at your hip. More than anything, she was curious. Beyond that? Determined.

“No,” Omega replied, “but I’ll try.” She pulled the deece from your hip and peeked over the top of your hiding spot. The long, durasteel crate was just barely holding up. If you were a Jedi, then you’d say it had to be a miracle only the Force knew about.

The deece wasn’t a perfect fit in Omega’s small hands, but it did the job. She aimed at the droids, eyes focused and hands firmly on the weapon. She fired. Once. Twice. Three times. "Did I hit anything?” You fired your blaster a couple times and glared through the smoky haze.

A collection of bolts and durasteel scraps lay in a pile and you couldn’t help but be proud. Either Omega was a natural or she was incredibly strong with luck. Whichever it was, it helped you through the mission, and before you knew it, you were back on the ship with a data stick and an unharmed Omega.

“See, nothing bad happened!” she exclaimed with a grin. You took the blaster from her hands and strapped it back to your hip. “That was luck, I tell you.” Omega rolled her eyes. “It wasn’t! You saw--I was like, pow pow, and you went and hit that guy right in the face!”

“That was because he called me a filthy bounty hunter.” you said, a small smile creeping up your lips. “I can’t say I took too kindly to his harsh words.” Omega let out a laugh and you joined her. 

Tired. That was the first thing that came to mind when you thought of your mental state. Yet with Omega by your side, smiling, and carefree despite all the action, you couldn’t help but feel the electrifying sense of thrill. 

“Say, Omega? If you want to come back, maybe we can figure out how to get you off that rainy excuse of a planet more often.” you said with a small smile. She beamed, throwing her arms around you with a vigorous nod. “Yes! I’d love that!”

“Me too, kid. We just have to figure out how to convince whoever looks after you.”

BONUS:

A tall kaminoan towered over you with her beady eyes. Omega sheepishly played with her sleeves as you stared down the kaminoan. Stupid long necks. Nala Se blinked. “So this is where you have been, Omega.” That soft, cold voice of hers warmed at the sight of the girl. “Haven’t I told you not to run off? I see you’ve gone somewhere far today.”

Omega frowned shamefully. “Maybe...” Nale Se motioned for her to come to her. “If you would like, you may stay with (Y/n) again--if you are out of harms way that is.” She turned to you and you froze, eyes wide. “Wait, what?”

“I am giving you permission to have Omega under your care, as long as she is out of harms way.” You glanced at Omega, who glanced at you and then Nala Se with the biggest grin on her face. “Really?”

“Yes.” Nala Se smiled. “‘Really’.”

[dinner-djarin]

dar'manda (Mando x f!reader)

Chapter 1: The Only Way Out is Through

Summary: Things have been quiet since The Mandalorian's disappearing act on Nevarro. However, things change quickly at his sudden return, and the changes are sure to impact your own life. That is, if you don't screw it up for yourself.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, yearning/awkward flirting/reader doesn’t know how to act around Mando, Cara Dune lol (I feel like she needs a warning)

Word Count: 3.8k

Prologue - Next

In the weeks that the Mandalorian had been gone, things on Nevarro had taken a turn for the worse. Ever since making his grand escape, remaining Imperial officers seemed to get word of a Mandalorian bounty hunter gone rogue. He took some sort of “package” right out of their hands, and they really didn’t like that. So, they sent out every bounty hunter idiotic enough to go after a Mandalorian. And to double their efforts, they effectively made Nevarro their new base.

Well, that probably wasn’t exactly accurate, but either way it seemed like every stormtrooper left was sent to keep watch in case their prize ever returned.

You could not imagine that anyone would be stupid enough to come back to the place where they so flagrantly disregarded every rule of the Guild, and yet – there he was. Walking into town at the side of his...former boss. As he approached however, you noticed he probably wasn't there by choice. His hands were bound in front of him, and a muscley looking woman, with a very large gun, was not too far behind them. Well then, you think to yourself, I guess no one crosses the Guild, not even Mando.

Just as they enter town you being to consider the precarity of your own situation. With the town being occupied by stormtroopers, times are tough. Curfews have been put in place and wandering through town is highly discouraged. The marketplace has turned into a ghost town as people have become less and less inclined to spend time outside of their homes. They might come by for the basics, but business is definitely not what it used to be. So, you often find yourself with “free time” – moments you should realistically be working – where you instead spy on the invaders who have ruined your already unpleasant life. Basically, the exact thing you were doing in that very moment.

It's a matter of fate that he showed up just as you made your way to the town entrance. Even more so when you overhear a conversation between the Guild leader and the Mandalorians captor.

“Things got really heated once Mando crashed the safehouse” you hear the Guild leader say.

“Slip him his blaster” whispers the woman. These words bring you utter confusion. Did she mean slip Mando his blaster?

“Not yet,” he says under his breath.

And suddenly you are more confused than before. Why would she say something like that? How did any of this make sense? You’re thankful you were not seen as they pass by you, but you think you perceive a subtle change in the reflection from the shiny metal helmet that your eyes have been locked on to. His gaze fell to the metal orb that was trailing the trio through the city centre. When he looked back up however, he did not return his gaze to the direction he had been looking previously. Now you think, and you know it’s completely self-centred of you to do so, but you feel like he is staring straight at you. You don't think he would be able to see into the shadows that were providing your cover, but something about the angle of his visor as he walks by sends a shiver down your spine.

The three of them and the metal orb enter the cantina and you adjust your position in attempt for a better view. Only a few minutes later does a blaster shot eviscerate the long transparisteel window on the front wall of the building, allowing you a glimpse of the chaos inside. A plethora of various blaster bolts ricochet through the building, evidence that the situation was drastically more complicated than you initially observed. However, the next events prove that things could still get worse for the group inside.

From the safety of your hiding spot, you see the scene unfold. The entire courtyard of the village is filled with stormtroopers in seconds, and then you hear it. The unmistakable screech that has haunted you since you were young. A sound that would forever be branded into your head, as it signaled the end of your childhood. The last time you heard that sound was the last time you saw your father and brother.

The Tie Fighter lands right in front of the cantina, completely blocking your view of any further events. You take that as your sign to get the hell out of there, knowing the level of destruction that is sure to follow. Even with the high amount of adrenaline pumping through your veins, you manage to keep a level head and find your way back to the marketplace, where most other citizens are gathered.

You quickly alert everyone to the impending danger nearby, and although some are slow to react, they begin to gather their belongings and search for safety.

Luckily, you recall a nearby alley that would lead to the part of town furthest away from the calamity, and you tell them all to make their way there immediately. Once you were sure that no one was left behind you head towards the alley only for an explosion to go off somewhere near the cantina. And although the source of the blast is far enough away not to injure you, the shockwave ripples through a one of the buildings, whose integrity was already questionable, causing it to crumble and block your previously secure exit route. With your mind in panic mode, you glance over to a spot which had caught your eye a hundred times before, a spot you kept noticing the Mandalorian disappear to.

You quickly run for cover hoping no other buildings decide to fall apart in the meantime, and you find the passageway was actually concealing a staircase which led to the sewers. Unsure of where to go next, your adrenaline high mind keeps you moving fast, taking random turns, having no understanding of where the tunnels lead to and where the safest exit may be. It wasn't until you rapidly took a corner and ran straight into an armoured chest plate that your mind stopped running wild.

A few second too late you realize it wasn’t the armour you would have hoped to see. The Mandalorians captor stands in front of you, with a package wrapped in her arms. Beside her is the Guild leader. You stand there dumbstruck and panting, unsure of what move to make.

The Guild leader approaches you, but you recoil, stepping back.

“What did you do to him?” is all you can think to growl at them.

“He’s just sleeping.” She attempts to assure you, “Wait how do you know the kid?” the woman asks, evidently confused by your accusation.

“What kid? No, the Mandalorian. You captured him. I saw you two walk in to town with him handcuffed”

“Young lady, I think you are confused. Please allow me to explain our situation.” the leader states, taking another step closer to you. This time you stand your ground, making clear you want answers.

He explains his name is Greef Karga, and the woman is Cara Dune, an ex-rebel shock trooper. And despite walking into town with Mando handcuffed by their sides, they were actually all in on the plan together. However, it seems that once they got inside things went south, a habit Mando seemed to be making for himself. It turns out that this elaborate scheme was set in place in an attempt to save a tiny green baby from the Empire, which now rests in the woman’s – Cara’s – arms.

You have no idea what to think. There's no way any of this can be true. Although, you then recall the conversation you overheard as they entered the town, and everything else seems to line up with your own experiences of the past hour.

You also realize that the Child must be the reason Mando went rogue in the first place. And after sneaking a peak at his resting wrinkly face, you completely understand why. After only one look, you’d probably jump in front of speeder for that little guy.

But before you can make up your mind on whether to believe Karga or not, Mando rounds the corner being supported by a very tall, very thin droid that you recognize to be an IG unit. As they approach, Cara hands off the baby to the droid and attempts to support Mando, and for some maker-forsaken reason you decide to help too. As you slide your arm under Mando’s shoulder and rest your hand on his back you feel him tense – you know you’ve made a mistake. But it’s too late to turn back now, so you carry some of his weight and continue on down the ominous path. The only way out, is through.

Your mind is running at 100 parsecs per hour. This is the closest, physically, you’ve been to anyone in years, and if that weren't enough you seem to be in the middle of both your wildest dream and worst nightmare. You can’t remember the last time you were tucked under someone's arm, and pressed up against them so tightly, if you ever were. And in your panicked state you start to realize you’ve basically been holding your breath this whole time, making your heart beat erratically and your head throb. But just as you think you might pass out from your stupidity, the Mandalorians voice shakes you back to reality.

“Stop.” His word sends you into a new panic. Were you thinking out loud? Could he read your heartbeat through his helmet? Did he know what a complete mess you were at his touch? “I can stand,” he says, finishing his thought.

Oh thank the gods.

He lets go of you and switches something in his helmet to look for tracks, and you allow yourself to finally take a deep breath.

“We’re close,” he states. After a moment of stabilizing your heartbeat and focussing on your breath900, you quicken your pace, subtly placing yourself just behind Mando’s left shoulder as he leads the group through the tunnel. You’re close enough to catch when he mumbles, “I know you.”

“And I know you,” you respond playfully, disregarding the severity of the situation you’ve found yourself in. You’re not quite sure how Mando’s mere presence can affect you so brutally, to the point of forgetting how to act like a normal human being.

“From the market.” He doesn’t ask.

“That’s me, good to see you in one piece. I was worried when I heard about the stunt you pulled. Crossing the guild...not sure I've ever heard of anyone getting away with that.” Oh man why are you talking so much. You just need to shut up now. Literally no one wants to hear-

“Worried?” a hint of genuine curiosity hidden in his question. Well of course he found the one word in your entire sentence that incriminates you. There’s no way he doesn’t know about your crush now.

“Umm well of course, I think everyone was. It’s all anyone could talk about for weeks. Nothing that exciting has happened around here in a while,” you quickly blurt out. He turns his head for a moment and examines you.

He is silent, evidently noticing the way you awkwardly avoided his question. You stare at him trying with every muscle in your face to remain composed. You know he sees right through you – must be that bullshit reader – but you think if you maintain eye contact long enough, he’ll just move on from your stupidity. And he does.

“How did you get here?” He returns to his task of following footprints. The question and abrupt change in topic jars you, although if you had to guess, you think he must have picked up on your complete awkwardness, possibly confusing it for suspicious behaviour. You hope he doesn’t think you untrustworthy because if it.

“There were explosions, and I tried to help everyone out, but the path became blocked and the only way out was some curtain hiding a staircase.” Your explanation, you realize, now sounds completely ridiculous, especially in the flustered manner you are depicting it in. Even so, you continue, “I went to hide but it turns out it led straight down here. So, I tried to find an exit, but I bumped into them instead,” you finish, glancing behind you towards Cara and Karga.

“If you came in from the market you should have passed the covert,” Mando stated almost accusingly, increasing your worry over whether he thought trusted your story.

“I’m not sure I didn’t really see any-” but his question is immediately answered by the pile of discarded Mandalorian armour in front of you.

The Mandalorian stops, and you can see just how suddenly his body language changed. Even injured, he looked deadly as he led you through the tunnels, but at the sight of the remnants of his clan, he is weak. You can feel the sadness, remorse, and pain emanating from him all at once. And as you stand beside him you barely realize you’ve gently reached for his hand, gripping it tight and squeezing it to convey your condolence for his immense loss.

But after a moment, he moved forward and away from your grasp to kneel at the sight of his fallen brethren. Cara suggests the group leave, but he won’t. He will not leave the armour in its discarded state.

Suddenly, the mood shifts, and you see the Mandalorian transform before your eyes. He storms towards Karga, accusing that he and the Guild members must be responsible. Karga denies, but you think Mando might be on the verge of strangling him when suddenly another modulated voice fills the tunnel.

A golden warrior stands before you. Her presence shocks you. It reveals some element rooted deep, a feeling you can only describe as warm… or familiar? She explains, as she gathers the scattered armour, how revealing the covert brought the presence of Imperials. When Mando offers her to join him, she rejects, maintaining that her place is to gather the remains of her people.

You all follow her into a small room with a forge in the centre of it. “Show me the one who’s safety deemed such destruction,” she demands.

“This is the one,” Mando responds. Gesturing to the baby that was wrapped tight to the IG unit’s chest.

“This is the one that you hunted, then saved?” she asks.

“Yes. The one that saved me as well.” And with that statement you find both an answer, and more questions. That baby saved him? How the-

“From the mudhorn?” she asks.

“Yes.” he responds, making you even more confused than ever. The baby saved him from a mudhorn?

“It looks helpless” she states.

“It’s injured, but it is not helpless. Its species can move objects with its mind.” As if this conversation could get any weirder. Move objects...with its MIND.

The Armourer begins to detail battles between Mandalore the Great and some species of wizards; the species this child belongs to. She also tells Mando that he is now responsible for the baby – his foundling. And finally, she tasks him with finding these sorcerers and returning the baby to them. When Mando questions the outrageous turn of events the woman has only four words in response:

“This is the Way.” Suddenly that warm comfort you felt before resurges, but only for a moment, as Cara reminds the group of the urgency of their situation. You need to find a way out before Imperials catch your tracks. The Armourer then suggests the group find a river of lava that will lead all of you out of the tunnels. Right…

River of lava, or Imperial Troopers. What the heck did you get yourself into? Either way it seems you don’t have much of a choice. After receiving a mudhorn signet on his pauldron, the Armourer pronounces that he and the child are bound as father and son; a clan of two. Cute little family they’ll make. When the droid gets ready to defend the group from incoming Imps, it hands Cara the child who looks very uncomfortable with it, so she passes him to you.

Stunned and confused you look to the Mandalorian who shows no sign of discomfort with you holding his now adopted son, not that you’d probably be able to tell. Either way, it seems you’ve acquired a new responsibility.

Blaster fire rings just outside the room as the woman hands Mando some flying contraption, and your group decides you might need to get a move on.

You approach the lava river, only to notice the boat has melted to the docking point. Karga and Mando struggle to free it, but Cara just gives you a smug look. “You boys mind getting out of the way?” she warns only to blast the points where the boat was attached, successfully freeing it from its molten chains.

The boat quickly begins to drift from the dock, but just as you start to lift your foot over the edge to make your way inside, you feel a strong hand against your lower back, guiding you the rest of the way. Once you steady yourself on the boat you glance up at the visor which is pinned straight ahead, unwavering and unwilling to meet your gaze. His seemingly disinterested reaction makes you anxious to know the true intention of his touch. He must just realize your safety is attached to the bundle you are currently cradling against your chest. Obviously, he is only looking out for the child, you just happen to be the person responsible for his transportation. If Cara were the one holding his son, he’d probably be helping her instead. Right? Simple as that.

Even so, you can't help but notice the way his hand flexes after it returns to his side.

For just a moment your mind slips, and you let yourself think that there might be something there. That the short conversations and fleeting looks shared all those weeks ago might have held more weight than you believed. That when you were admiring his head-to-toe armor upgrade, he may have been examining you back. That he might have actually liked the fact that you worried about him in his absence. You allow yourself to think that underneath that metal, stands a man who might be gentle, and kind. A man who helps you into a boat when he himself is injured. One who is willing to leave behind everything he knows in order to ensure the security of a child.

You snap back to reality, however, when Karga notices the light at the end of the tunnel. But just when you think that your journey is almost over, Mando informs you otherwise. A battalion of stormtroopers line the edges of your only exit route. No one in your group can come up with any satisfactory solution, until the IG unit comes forward.

“They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child. This is unacceptable. I will eliminate them, and you will escape.”

Mando is quick to point out that the droid would never make it past the troopers, but the droid insists. Apparently, his manufacturer's protocol dictates that he cannot be captured and must self-destruct. He asks that Mando look over the Child once he is gone, and you swear you can hear a hint of sadness through his filtered voice. Your hypothesis is confirmed by the IG unit, and your heart warms slightly for the metal man. The droid reaches over to say goodbye to the child for the last time, patting him gently on the head, then steps into the lava river and heads down towards the mouth of the cave. You all stare silently as you watch him approach the troopers when suddenly-

Fire consumes your vision, and it overwhelms your senses. Not having actually seen an explosion in your life you seem to be the only one on the boat who is at all fazed by the sudden wall of heat and deafening boom created by IG-11’s sacrifice. In the process you cover the child with your body and wince back into the hard wall behind you. Cradling the child and shielding yourself, you almost don’t notice when the wall grabs your hip and steadies you in front of it.

Suddenly, you’re flushed with embarrassment, realizing all at once the wall was the Mandalorian and both of his hands were still gripped onto you, holding you tight against his chest plate.

But your shock only lasts a moment before the unsettling screech of a Tie Fighter pierced your ears for the second time that day. And before you could process, the Mandalorian was using his body as a shield, protecting you and the child from the blasts, and simultaneously shooting at the new threat barreling towards your group.

Will this day ever end, is the only thought in your head before Mando is flying through the air using the jetpack given to him by the Armourer only minutes ago. However, you distinctly remember her saying he would need time to get used to it before it would ‘listen to his commands’. Nevertheless, he jerks through the sky in a desperate attempt to bring the Tie down.

You watch as one of the wings are ripped off by an explosion and the tie crashes to the ground. The Mandalorian lets go just in time and falls quickly towards the ground, igniting his jetpack at the last second to make a rough landing right in front of you.

The child squirms in your arms at the first sign of peace so you set him down gently. He awkwardly runs over to Mando and hugs his leg, creating possibly the cutest sight you had ever seen. Again, your heart can’t help but melt for the new little family, and you wonder how these two are going to get by. A child with magical powers, and a father who’s built to kill. Not a pairing you would bet on.

Cara and Karga then try to convince Mando to stay on Nevarro and help the both of them sort out the aftermath of today's events. But the Mandalorian insists on sticking to his mission. The child is now his first priority and finding a group of near-extinct ancient sorcerers does not sound like easy work.

“We have a long road ahead of us, but the journey is necessary. I must return him to his kind, no matter how long it takes.” You hear him reason with the pair, refusing their kind offers to remain on the planet with them.

If you know one thing about the Mandalorian it's that everything he does is completely intentional. No one could force Mando into something he doesn’t want to do. If he is sure of this path, he will follow it through till the end.

And from your short interactions, you know he spends time forming his thoughts in order to get his point across. Each sentence is carefully crafted so that they are clear and concise. You know he means every word.

Maybe that's why the next words out of his mouth come as a complete shock to you.

“Would you like to join us?” he asks directly to you.

What the kriffing heck did he just say? You're so taken aback that you embarrassingly bark out your response, your brain evidently getting no time to process the question, so instead if vomits out the first word it can think of: “No”.

You follow it with polite ‘thank you’s’, hoping to erase the awkward tension in the air, and the Mandalorian jetpacks off with the child leaving you to dwell on your utter stupidity.

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

Chapter 2

Notes: Honestly, I hate this chapter too wow. I really spent so long trying to edit this into something I could bare to publish, but I still really hate it. I did not want to write a chapter like this, but I also needed a way to put the reader into the story and the only way I could think to do that was by using an existing episode. So here we are. But I SWEAR, after this it gets good. Like not only does the story get good, but so does my own writing (relatively) so if you just bare through this, I think you’ll enjoy the rest.

Taglist: @peppywitch @tobealostwanderer @thecraftyartist

If you wanna be included in the tag list let me know! The next parts are gonna get great. I hope

[that-one-weeb-but-starwars]

My love| Echo (part 7)

Note: This ones got a lot of small details that add up to one and Its comin along

Warnings: sad echo and shocking information

Reader: Male

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 3.5 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

"Dad! Dad come on!" Rosyln cheered jumping on the bed.

"Come on dad! It's snowing!"

Echo groaned, "Come on dad!"

Rolling over to his back his little girl jumped into his chest.

"Man you're gettin big." Echo spoke as she smiled.

"Come on! Get up!" She cheered getting off the bed, "Dad's outside already!"

He smiled, sitting up he rubbed his back.

"Okay. Okay." Echo spoke pulling himself out a bed and grabbing a poncho hanging on the end of the bed.

"Yes!" She cheered rushing off, her boots making heavy thuds against the wooden floor as she ran to go meet her father outside.

Pulling on a turtle neck he pulled on the poncho afterwards, still in his sleeping joggers he walked through the house and to the front door.

"Okay Rosyln," he chuckled, walking out of the house and onto the porch, looking around he chuckled, seeing boot prints in the snow.

Following them he snuck around the side of the house, at the corner he heard giggling.

"I got you!" He shouted happily turning the corner but no one was there.

Looking around in confusion his eyebrows knitted togegher.

"Rosyln?" He called out looking around, "Rosyln? Darling? Where are you!?"

"Dad!" She shouted for, fear lacing her voice, "Dad!"

He rushed toward her voice rushing towards the sound of her voice, running around the side of the house he looked for her.

"Rosyln! Rosyln! Where are you!" He shouted, "where are you!"

"Echo! Echo!"

He jolted, Hunter holding his shoulder's, his breath heavy, a face filled with fear and pain.

"Echo! Hey. Hey. Calm down. Calm. Down." Hunter spoke, "it's me. It's Hunter."

"I." Echo started, but couldn't get out any words, "Hunter I."

"Hey. Don't explain it, just. Breathe." Hunter deamanded.

Echo's ragged breath started to slow, Hunter's hands on Echo's shoulders.

"W-when did I fall asleep?" He questioned looking around, the ship still in hyperspace.

"Echo I came in to check on you before I put Omega to bed. You we're staring off into space." Hunter told him, "Echo you need rest."

"No," Echo spoke, "I- Im fine."

Hunter sighed, taking a seat in the co-piolts chair, "You know. I'll never understand what you're go through."

Echo was silent as he rubbed his eyes, "but I do understand wanting to get someone back, when Omega got taken by that bounty hunter... I. I didn't know what I'd do if I didn't get her back."

Echo leaned back in the chair, "I know you lost alot, and you shouldn't have to loose one more."

Echo pulled the small disk out his belt pouches.

"You looked at it?" Echo questioned looking down at the disk, "this?"

Hunter nodded softly, "Y/n's mentioned on it? Yeah?" Echo questioned.

Hunter responded with a second nod, "and...the kids? His brothers and sisters? They must be mentioned on it."

"Yeah,Echo they are." Hunter told.

Echo nodded, sitting back up and leaning over as he looked at the disk he ran between his fingers. Soon handing it to Hunter.

"Echo." He told, "You need to see whats on there."

"No. I just need Y/n." He told Hunted who took the disk softly, "and just a bit more time to think is all."

Hunter nodded, getting up, "Tech, will, uh, switch shifts with you."

Echo nodded as Hunter left him to his own devices.

Hoth was a desolate planet, despite the white which gave it's bright apperance.

The wind rushed passed the cloaked figure as he held onto the hood, the wind dying down as he let go of it.

In the distance as the snow settled stood two figures.

"Norman. Stay here."

The white haired boyed covered by a black thick poncho nodded as the cloaked figured moved forward, the figures meeting him half way.

"Thank you! For coming!" He shouted as the wind roared.

"It is an honor to be fighting with you! My wife, and my second hand! Eleni!" The twilek male spoke.

"It is an honor!" She chattered out, cold as the wind picked up once more.

"Apologizes for the meeting point!" Rosyln apologized, "as You may know! I am Project Rosyln! Follow me!"

They followed the male back to the ship, Norman the young boy had already taken shelter inside.

"Norman, these are the Syundullas, Eleni and Cham." He introduced, the boy in white nodded.

"I am Norman, it's nice to meet you."

The two nodded in response, everyone removing there extra article of chlothing.

"This must be important if one of you're parents sent there children." Eleni spoke, "and such with such a meeting point."

"This...is a different matter. Please. We have much to discuss."

"You may take rest." Tech spoke walking into the cockpit, bur got no response, walking towards the chair Echo was slumped over, sleeping in crossed arms at the edge of the control panel.

Tech let him rest, taking co-piolts chair as he leaned back, datapad in hand as he started looking through what he had copied from the disk. He had figured he would see more resources, more death tolls and ways to die by the new and improved empires hand, and he was right. More imperal codes, new weapons arrays and ways to pass on, most vulgar, violating, dishonorable and disrespectful.

They had already taken people prison, why disrespect them in death as well. The longer he looked- the more confused he became, most files corrupted and named weridly, letters of the basic alphabet. He kept himself up, going through file after file, werid code being written that he couldn't understand or translate, but there was one thing that stood out to him: one time mentioned one time saw: CT in bold the only thing in galatic basic and an attached file of a hand print.

Then it clicked.

Getting up quickly he walked out of the cockpit, rushing to Omega's bunk.

"Omega. Omega!" He tried waking her up.

"What?" She asked waking up, eyes still half closed, "Tech?"

"What is Echo's Friends CT number?"

"What?"

"You know all the CT- numbers by heart don't you?" He questioned.

"Uh. Yeah?" She questioned, "why?"

"Echo's Friends CT number! What is it?" He questioned, "You know the one friend he won't talk about?"

"You mean Fives? Nala Se talked about him once-"

"Fives? Fives what's his name? Why?"

"Well his CT number was CT-5555-" Omega told, "but he died, why?"

"Because it's not by number is by letter! The letters from the files! They spell out a name! Fives must be a key name if Rosyln is Y/n!"

"What?" Omega asked confused.

"But Fives isnt a possible solution- so what does Fives repersent..." Tech thought out loud.

"He made it to Arc Trooper I heard." Omega spoke yawned.

"Arc Trooper?" Tech questioned as Omega nodded, "Has anyone been created to be a higher ranking trooper?"

"Well you know the basic trainning?" Omega questioned sitting up fully.

Tech nodded, "The Kaminonins would add onto that but not genetically, besides clone force 99, not that I know of."

"Not that you know of?"

Omega nodded, "I had top clearance too due to Nala Se. So I seen everything on Kamino."

"Had they ever transported machinery off world? Anything?"

"Yeah a few broken tubes, a long time ago. I found it odd."

"How many?"

"Mhmm...20? Maybe 25?" Omega spoke, "they were odd looking, I assumed they were protoyoes that failed."

"But that doesn't make sense." Tech argued.

"What are you yelling about here in Tech?" Hunter spoke walking back to the two.

"Yeah Im tryin to sleep." Wrecker argued joining them.

"Hunter, these files that have been sent to us have a message incrypted the only possible thing being able to read is CT in basic."

"And?" Hunter argued, "what does that have to with you shouting my ears off?"

"Fives would be someone only Echo knew-"

"Rex would of known him too." Hunter told.

"Yes but Y/n's met us not rex." Tech spoke, "Y/n's met Echo's newest squad mates but not his old ones. As they are separated. They'd be no actual time to interact with them."

"Okay so that's why we went to Zut not Rex." Hunter spoke, "It still doesnt explain why you're shouting over something so simple."

"But listen!" Tech spoke, "Fives has to stand for something, right?"

"Okay but where does fives come in?" Hunter questioned.

"This hand print." Tech spoke, "the hand print is obvioisly gloved and is the size of a regs hand. Something Echo had gotten standing next to Fives, further explaining why Fives is an important person in finding Y/n. Not to mention Echo's the only one who knew Roslyn and Fives well."

"Okay so mentioning Fives does what now exactly. Echo can't understand this! Wrecker couldn't even scribble this!" Hunter argued, "its basically pictures and scribbles."

"Hey!" Wrecker argued as Hunter snatched the data pad showing it to Wrecker to prove his point.

"Hey I've seen this before!" Wrecker spoke.

"Excuse me?"

Wrecker nodded handing off the datapad to Omega, "Echo has markings like that on his blasters."

"Wait, so Echo know's what this is?" Hunter asked.

Wrecker shrugged, "I guess? Hey! Maybe it's like me and Omega's secret code!"

"Oh yeah!" Omega cheered.

"Secret code?" Tech questioned, "that's it! It makes sense! The reason Fives and Rosyln is important! The way it's written like this! Echo's been right this whole time!"

"But that still doesnt explain the Kaminonin tubes." Omega spoke, "Unless there are Kaminonin files."

"Just a few medical documents, nothing we don't know." Tech informed

"Wait. Why would Y/n have a hold of Kaminonin medical document's, he's never seen battle he doesnt need strong medical trainning." Hunter questioned.

"So what? Y/n was like an enchanted clone?" Wrecker laughed, "Good one Tech."

The group looked back at Wrecker.

"What?" He asked, "Oh come on. Y/n looks nothing like us! We don't even have the same eye color!"

"What happens if Y/n's not a clone of Jango Fett. Yet of someone else?" Tech questioned.

"Hey." Omega questioned looking down at the data pad, "I found one combination to those letters Tech. What's Project Star Killer?"