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coffeeshades · 4 months ago

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credits to the gif maker!

GUILTY AS SIN...? - PART I

summary: one summer with the man you can't have, but can't stop thinking about.

pairing: cillian murphy x popstar!reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). mentions of sex. angst. cussing, slight age gap, mentions of alcohol and divorce. no use of y/n, heavily inspired by ts and ttpd. if i missed something please let me know. (also this is a work of fiction, none of it reflects how i feel about the people mentioned in this, most importantly cillian's wife, who im sure is a sweetheart irl. it's fiction, just relax and enjoy it, and if not, move along, friends.)

a/n: hi everyone! this turned out pretty long so i will be splitting it into parts so it's easier. next part will be posted soon. i hope you all have as much fun reading this as i had writing it. enjoy!

part two

The breeze riffled through your hair as you drove, the sun warming your skin through the open windows. The Irish countryside stretching out before you, lush and green, with rolling hills and quaint villages dotting the landscape. The scent of wildflowers and the sound of nothing but the wind in the trees filled your senses.

It was rare, really. The silence, the feeling of complete freedom, and the solitude that enveloped you. A fleeting escape from the chaos of your everyday life.

The ping of your phone interrupted the peaceful moment. You tapped on the pop-up notification after briefly glancing at the directions to your destination. It was a message from Cillian. Well, two, actually. One was asking how far you were, and the other was a Spotify link followed by a question mark. Ever since he started hosting his bbc radio show, he's been sending you potential songs for his playlists to get your opinion. Not that he needs it anyway. But you always appreciate being included in his process.

Your lips curled into a smile as you clicked on the link. The familiar sound of The Blue Nile's "The Downtown Lights" flooded the car, instantly making you feel a wave of nostalgia. It's been ages since you've listened to that song. The synth-pop melody carries you up the pine-dotted path to where his house perches atop a hill, overlooking the crashing waves below. You've been here a couple of times, and yet it never gets less breathtaking. The Victorian architecture contrasting beautifully with the rugged coastline, creating a scene straight out of a painting.

The car glides right past the wrought iron gates, and you cut the engine in front of the stone steps leading up to the grand entrance. You shoot Cillian a quick text letting him know you're here, unbuckle your seat belt, and hop out of the car.

The June sun beats down on your skin instantly, heat radiating off the cobblestones as you open the backdoor to look through your bag for a hair tie. The smell of saltwater mingles with the sound of gulls overhead, sending you into sensory overload. "Gotcha," you mutter to yourself as you finally find the hair tie and pull your hair back into a loose bun.

"You drove here?" you hear him call out from behind you, his voice tinged with surprise. "And you're alone?" you turn around to see Cillian walking towards you, a curious expression on his face.

"I actually had to throw a tantrum to convince them to let me come alone," you reply with a chuckle, feeling a sense of pride at your small victory. "I was like, It's Ireland. What's the worst that could happen?"

Being who you are means being guarded against any potential danger or harm at all times, being driven to almost everywhere, and always having a security team around.

Cillian laughs, a sound that makes your heart flutter and makes you want to hear it again and again. "Well, I'm glad you made it here in one piece, love," he says with a grin. "You're not a very good driver."

Your cheeks flush with embarrassment. You did regret your decision to drive from the airport 10 minutes later when you realized you were on the wrong side of the road. But he didn't need to know that.

"I made it in one piece, didn't I?" you playfully retort, trying to salvage your wounded pride. Cillian chuckles and shakes his head with a twinkle in his eye. You stare at each other for what feels like an eternity. He looks good, you thought. Unbelievably good. Well rested. His jet black hair was perfectly styled, even though you know he didn't put any effort into it—the slightest hint of silver at the temples, his sharp jawline, and those piercing blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. Though they looked a little tired, as if he had been through a lot since the last time you saw him.

You quickly avert your gaze, feeling a rush of heat on your cheeks.

"It's good to see you," you finally manage to say, trying to sound casual. Cillian's smile softens, and he replies, "It's good to see you too." He opens his arms, inviting you in for a hug. The soft fabric of his t-shirt brushes against your skin as you embrace him, and for a moment, everything feels right in the world.

"Come on, let's get inside," he says, leading you towards the house. Once inside, you make your way to the kitchen. The house was quiet; you wondered if anyone else was home. Cillian's family wasn't by any means loud or boisterous, but the silence felt heavier than usual.

"You hungry, love?" Cillian asks, opening the fridge, pulling out a white ceramic container, and setting it up on the kitchen island. You take a seat on one of the stools while he stands across from you.

"For something sweet?" you smile, seeing the container filled with what seems to be a piece of strawberry sponge cake. His mom must've made it. "Always," you reply. He hands you a spoon and takes one for himself, the two of you sharing the dessert in comfortable silence.

Until he broke it.

"How was Madrid?" he asks softly.

"It was good, great crowd," you reply, taking another bite of the dessert. "But tiring," you add, feeling the exhaustion of the long trip settling in.

"How many nights did you perform?"

"Four."

"Jesus, that's quite a lot, isn't it?"

Your eyes meet his; confusion clear in your expression. "You think that's a lot? Didn't you used to do four or five nights in a row of the same play?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "for months…?

"Yeah, but that was a different kind of exhaustion," he explains, taking another bite. "Performing the way you do in front of a live audience for three hours is a whole different ball game, love."

Love.

There it was again. That godforsaken term of endearment that he seemed to throw around so casually. It made your heart race every time he said it, even though you knew it probably meant nothing to him. But the way he looked at you now, with a hint of admiration in his eyes, made you wonder if maybe—

"Want the last bite?" he offered, taking you out of your thoughts. He pushed the container towards you, a small smile playing on his lips. His gaze was intense, as if silently urging you to take it.

"Oh, hello," a voice exclaimed from behind you, breaking the moment. You drop the spoon on the counter, a little startled. As if you were caught in the act of something forbidden. You turned around to see Yvonne, Cillian's wife. She said your name with a surprised tone, making you feel guilty for some reason. "I didn't know you were here," she continued, her eyes flickering between you and her husband.

You started to rise from your seat, confusion clouding your thoughts. That's weird. Cillian usually lets his wife know when you're visiting, but this time it seems like he didn't. She walked towards you, enveloping you in a hug. "When did you get here?" she said.

"Not long ago," you replied, relieved that she didn't seem upset. "I, uh, wanted to take a break and thought Ireland might be a good place to do that," you added, hoping to diffuse any tension that may have arisen. She nodded understandingly. "And you're staying here?"

"Oh, no, no," you quickly assured her. "I rented a place nearby, so you don't have to worry about me."

"Nonsense," Cillian interjected. "You can stay here. There's plenty of room."

"She's already paid for it, Cillian," Yvonne retorted, giving him a stern look.

Something was definitely off.

This was the last thing you wanted. You've specifically chosen the cottage for two reasons. First, to have space. The whole point of this trip was to finally have peace and write music. You've been stuck for months, not being able to find inspiration in your usual surroundings. Everything felt dull inside you all day—an emptiness that was smothering.

Second, you needed to stay the fuck away from Cillian. Being close to him was dangerous territory, one you didn't want to navigate right now. The plan was to come and visit and occasionally hang out and that's it. The thought of being in such close quarters with him was overwhelming. Staying here meant risking your heart and sanity.

You hesitated, also not wanting to intrude on their space, but Cillian insisted.

"Okay…How about if I stay for a couple of days and then move to the cottage?" you suggested, hoping to compromise. "Sounds perfect to me," he said.

This was going to be a long summer.

For the next few days, you dream too much, don't write enough, and try to find inspiration everywhere. As you settled into the routine of staying at Cillian's, you found yourself enjoying the peaceful surroundings and his company more than you expected. The days seemed to blend together, filled with laughter, deep conversations, and stolen glances that left your heart racing.

But you also felt constantly distracted by his presence, making it difficult to focus on your writing or anything else, for that matter.

All you could think about was him.

The piano room surrounded you with its warm, inviting atmosphere, and you found yourself drawn to it more often than not. The big windows overlooking the garden let in streams of sunlight, casting a warm glow over the bookshelf. You felt the softness of the carpet as you sat on the grand piano bench, running your fingers along the keys absentmindedly.

You started humming a tune that had been stuck in your head for days, the words appearing softly and effortlessly as you played:

Please

I've been on my knees

Change the prophecy

Don't want money

Just someone who wants my company

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

Who do I have to speak to

About if they can redo

The prophecy?

The humming went on whenever you didn't know what to say next, filling in the gaps between the notes on the piano and the lyrics:

A greater woman has faith

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

I'm so afraid I sealed my fate

No sign of soulmates

I'm just a paperweight

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

Spending my last coin so someone will tell me

It'll be ok

[Hum, Hum, Hum]

The melody filled the room until you stopped abruptly, frustrated that the lyrics weren't coming as easily as before. You closed your eyes with a groan, trying to clear your mind. "Fuck," you muttered under your breath, elbows resting on the keys of the piano.

"You good?" Cillian's rough voice broke through your frustration, causing you to look up and offer a weak smile. You don't know how long he's been standing there or how much he heard of your struggles. "Just hitting a wall with this song," you admitted, running a hand through your hair.

"Ah, I see," he nodded sympathetically. He moved towards the records stacked on the shelf and pulled one out, placing it on the turntable. "I don't want to mess with your creative process or anything, but maybe a break with some music will help," he suggested.

Radiohead's "Fake Plastic Trees" began to play, taking over the room with its haunting melody.

"So you play one of the saddest songs ever?" you deadpanned, "Thanks."

He chuckled softly, "You were playing some pretty intense stuff; I figured it would fit right in."

Oh, so he did hear you.

"Ah, I know it's different from my usual stuff," you said quietly, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about your music. "I might scrap that one. They might not be onboard with the change."

"And why's that?"

Thom Yorke's voice faded into the background as you contemplated his question, unsure of how to respond.

You shrugged, "I listen to sad music, not make it."

"I liked what I heard," he reassured you, "and change is good. It keeps things interesting."

His low voice was soothing, and you found yourself feeling more at ease with the idea of trying something new. Pop has been your comfort zone for so long, it's what stands out of you, but most importantly, it's what sells. At least, that's what's important to the industry. Maybe it was time to push yourself out of it.

"I guess you're right," you replied, a faint smile creeping onto your face.

"As always," he said, and you fought the urge to roll your eyes. He stood leaning against the table where the record player sat, arms crossed, looking as if he had too many things to say and not enough words for them.

"Would this be a good time to ask you if everything's okay?" you inquired, noticing the weight of unspoken thoughts in his eyes. "With Yvonne, I mean," you added, nervous to bring up the topic.

That first day, when you arrived at the house, you could sense there was something going on between them. Something bad. The tension in the air was so obvious, but you didn't want to pry. However, as the days went by, it became increasingly difficult to ignore the fact that she hadn't been around or the absence of a certain ring on his finger.

"And here, I thought you were never going to ask," he replied, his words laced with sarcasm.

"I was waiting for you to bring it up," your voice trailed off, unsure of how to proceed. "I-I didn't want to overstep."

He studied you for a moment, or at least, you assumed that was what he was doing. Finally, he averted his gaze and cleared his throat,"We've separated."

A cold feeling settled in your chest as you processed his words. The reality of the situation hit you like a ton of bricks, and suddenly everything made sense. "Cillian," is all you managed to say, the concern evident in your voice.

He still wouldn't look at you. Knowing him, in moments like this, he wouldn't want to be coddled or pitied, so you save your apologies for later.

"What happened?"

He waved his hand dismissively, still avoiding your gaze. "Nothing, really," he said, his tone final. He didn't look upset, but rather resigned to the situation. "It hadn't been working for a long time; we both knew it was coming. I guess we were holding on for the boys more than anything." You could see the sadness in his eyes, despite his attempt to appear nonchalant. The weight of his words hung in the air, leaving you feeling defeated and unsure of what to say next. You don't think there's anything you can say that will make this or him feel better.

And boy, did you wish you could take away his pain with just a few words.

Cillian walked slowly over the piano, stopping in front of it. He streched his arms over the wooden soundboard, gripping the edges tightly as if seeking some sort of solace in the instrument. He finally looked at you.

"Why didn't you say anything, Cill?" you asked softly, "I would've—"

"You would've what?" he interrupted, his voice strained with emotion. "I didn't want to worry you, you have more important things than my marital issues."

You could see the pain in his eyes, and it tore at your heart to see him suffering in silence. "You're my friend. These things are important to me, Cill," you said gently, reaching out to touch his hand in a gesture of comfort. He flinched slightly at your touch, but then relaxed, leaning into your hand.

He didn't say anything, but you knew he appreciated your words. You could tell by the way his shoulders slumped in relief and the way his fingers loosened their grip on the edge of the piano.

One morning, you woke up to the wind gently rustling through the trees outside your windows. The morning light was clear and clean, leaking through the glass and falling against the walls of the room in soft patterns. It felt too early to be awake, too peaceful to disturb the tranquility of the moment.

You roll over to look at the little clock on the bedside table: 6:20 AM. It wasn't worth trying to go back to sleep, so you threw the covers and climbed out of bed, feeling the cool wood floor beneath your feet as you walked to the bathroom.

You splash cold water on your face and brush your teeth, trying to wake yourself up fully. Holding up your hair, you tie it into a ponytail while walking over the bedside table to grab your phone and airpods. You put one in your ear and hit shuffle on one of your morning playlists. You couldn't function without some music. "Keep On Loving You" by Cigarettes After Sex starts playing.

On your way to the kitchen, you walked by Cillian's room and noticed the door was slightly ajar. Who the hell sleeps with their door open? Psychos, probably. Curiosity getting the best of you, you peeked inside to see him sprawled out on his bed, body illuminated by the soft morning light filtering through the curtains—characteristic warm and cool shades revealing every hollow and speck of bare muscle. He slept with every limb stretched out, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. It was a rare sight, quite poetic.

He looked so peaceful, completely unaware of your presence. So you let your mind wander.

You imagined yourself crossing the room, pulling yourself on top of him. You imagined the way his bare body would look beneath you, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his dark hair messy around his face, his skin warm against yours. His hands—rough and soft at the same time—running over your thigh, your breast, your neck. You could almost feel the heat of his touch, the intensity of his gaze as he looked up at you.

But then reality snapped back into focus.

"Fuck," you muttered under your breath. This was just a fantasy, a dangerous game to play with someone who was somewhat off-limits. But truth be told, the temptation was becoming harder to resist with each passing moment. It was all you could think about ever since he told you about his troubled marriage.

It took a long time for your heartbeat to slow. You headed to the kitchen to get some coffee, hoping that the caffeine would help clear your mind. As you rummage through the cabinets for a mug, his voice startles you from behind. "Need some help with that?" he asks, making you jump.

For a moment you thought you were still imagining things, but you turn around to see him standing there with a t-shirt on as opposed to five minutes ago. Great, him walking around shirtless in his kitchen, sleepy-eyed, messy hair, and rough morning voice would've been lethal.

"I've got it, thanks," you reply, shaking the mug slightly in your hand. You quickly pour yourself some coffee and try to focus on the task at hand: looking for the sugar.

"Sleep well?" he asks, voice still husky from sleep, his accent more prominent. He's rifling through the cabinet for a mug of his own. You can't help but notice the way his muscles flex under his dark t-shirt as he reaches up. You hum in agreement, trying to hide your blush as you take a sip of your coffee. "You?"

"Grand," he replies, pouring himself a cup of coffee and leaning against the counter. You exchange small talk about the upcoming day, but your mind keeps drifting back to how good he looks in the morning light.

"Any plans for today other than locking yourself in the piano room?" he teases, and you shoot him a playful glare. "Maybe I'll actually venture outside for once," you quip, laughing.

"How does the beach sound like?" he asks, "The boys are coming over, and they're bringing some friends, and I thought a trip would be a nice change of scenery."

"I could use some sun," you admit, feeling a smile tug at your lips.

"Let's make it a beach day then," he suggests, setting his mug on the sink. "We leave at 10, piano woman."

"Ha ha, very funny," you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. "But I'll hold you to it, annoying man," you reply.

"Annoying man?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow. "I thought I was your favorite person."

"Only on days that end in 'y'."

•••

"Are you done with your sad boy music?"

Cillian bursts out laughing, the sound taking you by surprise. He's been playing Radiohead on repeat for the whole car ride, and you were starting to feel like you were in a melancholy music video. "I like their music as much as the next person, but I think I need a break from the sadness," you say.

"Fine, fine," Cillian concedes, reaching for his phone to change the song. The bleak atmosphere in the car lifts as "Linger" by The Cranberries starts playing, filling the space with a more pleasant vibe. Cillian glances at you, he's wearing dark shades that hide his eyes, but you can still see his stoic expression softening as he catches you smiling at the change in music.

"Better?" he asks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Instead of answering, you start silently singing along to the lyrics, gesticulating dramatically for added effect. Cillian smiles at your antics, his own lips twitching in amusement as he watches you. The boys were so caught up in their conversation with their friends in the backseat that you were pretty sure they weren't even paying attention to the music or your impromptu performance. With a small smile on your face, you face out the window and enjoy the rest of the car ride in content silence.

When you arrive at your destination, all of you unbuckle your seat belts once Cillian puts the Bronco in park. You all pile out of the car, stretching your legs and taking in the sights around you. You close your eyes for a second and take a breath. The sea air—you loved that smell.

•••

A few hours later, after countless swims and some snacks, you find yourself lying on a beach towel, book in hand, feeling the warmth of the temperature on your skin. You're reading a book you picked up at an airport several months ago by Elin Hilderbrand, or the queen of beach reads, as many call her. You were completely engrossed in the story until you felt Cillian settling down next to you.

His hair was damp from the water, and his skin was slightly glistening. Gosh, he looked absolutely stunning. "Mind if I join you?" he asks.

"Not at all," you reply, closing the book and sitting up. "Having fun?"

"Lots," he says with a smile, reaching over to grab his sunglasses. The two of you sit in comfortable silence. The laughter and chatter of his sons and friends coming from the water redirects your attention back to the beach scene before you. You look back at Cillian, his eyes fixed on his sons.

"They love you, you know," you say softly, watching the genuine joy on his face as he watches his children.

"I don't know if I'm doing it right," he says, eyes still fixed on the boys. "I worry I might've fucked them up by letting my relationship with their mother fall apart."

He continues, "Sometimes I feel they resent me for it."

"Why do you feel that way?"

"I don't know, they just seem distant sometimes. Like they're holding back."

"Hey, that's normal for kids to have mixed feelings about their parents' separation. I was so happy when mine got divorced because it meant no more fighting, but it was also tough to adjust to the changes. It's very conflicting stuff," you say, huffing a small laugh. "Also, they're teenagers now, right? That's a tough age to navigate even without the added stress of divorce."

Cillian nods in agreement, exhaling out a yeah.

You squint against the sunlight beaming behind his head before continuing.

"You're a great dad, you always have been. Just show up and be there for them when they need you, even if they don't always seem to appreciate it. They'll remember it in the long run," you offer, remembering how much your own father's presence meant to you after your parents' divorce. "And I'm not a parent, but what parent feels like they're doing everything right all the time, anyway?"

Cillian turns to look at you. He studies your face for a moment before offering a small smile. "I guess you're right," he says sincerely.

"Fork found in kitchen," you retort, breaking the tension with a bit of humor.

He chuckles, "That's clever."

"Well," you continue, "I've been accused of many things over the years, but being unoriginal isn't one of them."

He laughs. Just like he did back in the car: a genuine, carefree laugh that makes you feel a little lighter.

"Want to go for one last swim, piano woman?"

You roll your eyes. "Will you stop calling me that?"

"Not likely," Cillian replies with a grin. "It's too fitting."

You stand up and stretch. You're wearing a one-piece teal-ish swimsuit that you swear you only chose based on comfort and not because it makes your ass and breasts look fantastic. Cillian's eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks away, and you swear you can see a hint of a blush on his cheeks. He doesn't move.

"Are you coming or…?"

"Right, one last swim," he finally says, standing up and following you towards the water.

Maybe that one last swim wasn't a great idea after all.

And why is that?

Because not even five minutes into the water, you thought it would be a good idea to jump from a high rock, and now you're sitting in the car with your knee scrapped, throbbing in pain, and regretting your impulsive decision.

•••

"You're so fuckin' stubborn."

You try to move into a more comfortable position while ignoring the pain shooting up your leg by pressing a hand against one side of the door to keep yourself steady. "And you're so clearly overreacting."

Cillian pushes his bedroom door open. He's also clearly pissed. The ride back to the house was deathly silent. Well, not silent. His sad boy music made a return, and this time with Broken Social Scene. You couldn't ask him to change the music without starting another argument. Even the kids were quiet, beyond asking several times if you were okay, which you assured them you were. Obviously a lie.

As Cillian walks around the room, you reach for your midi white beachy dress and look down at your knee in horror. It's no longer just a bruise, but a gash that is slowly oozing blood. Not as much as before, but still. It looks nasty underneath the shirt Cillian used from his car as a makeshift bandage.

He grabs the first aid kit from a shelf and turns around to face you.

"Take off your dress."

"Pardon me?"

"Take off your dress so I can properly clean and bandage the wound," Cillian repeats, his expression serious. You look down at the blood-stained fabric as if you needed any more confirmation. "Off, C'mon."

You stiffen at his demand, your body going completely rigid at his bossy tone. You watch him stride into his bathroom. He pushes aside some stuff on the counter and tosses the kit onto the counter.

Okay, yeah. He has good reason to be upset. You had no business jumping from that rock.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he'd said before, right when he went to get you. And now you can see the anger still simmering beneath the surface.

You can hear him shuffle in the bathroom while you remove your dress. You still have your swimsuit on underneath, but you feel exposed without the extra layer. Maybe the pain is catching up to you or the fact that you have upset him or that he's waiting for you in the bathroom to take care of you but tears sting your eyes as you try to process the situation. You take a moment to collect yourself. You cannot go in there like this, he cannot see you this vulnerable. At least, not now.

He's braced against the counter, head hung low, when you push open the bathroom door. You nearly back out to give him some space or time to compose himself, but his eyes meet yours and his expression straightens. He clears his throat and then freezes. "I—you're wearing your swimsuit."

"I am. Were you expecting me to change into something else?"

"No," he grumbles, "I mean, nevermind."

He turns back and starts grabbing sterile gauze, his movements slightly jerky. He gestures for you to sit on the counter. "Up."

"I'm not sure I can do that given my—" Before you're done speaking, he scoops you up and sets you on the counter. Your hands are locked around his neck, and his are firmly gripping your waist. They fit perfectly there, like they're made to hold you close.

He reaches behind him, both your faces close together now, and grabs your wrists, pulling them away from his neck and onto your thighs. He puts a hand on your uninjured leg, his touch gentle yet firm. "This is going to hurt." You stare at his impossible blue eyes and think to yourself: yes, this is going to hurt.

"Oh, shit shit," you gasp, gripping his forearm. "Holy fuuuck."

"I've got you, breathe," he commands, and you allow yourself to focus on his voice, letting it ground you. The antiseptic burns both your nostrils and knee as he continues to clean the wound, the pain shooting through your leg causing you to clench your teeth.

"I'm sorry," you breathe out.

There's nothing but silence in response.

"I told you multiple times not to go up there," he finally says, his voice tinged with frustration. "And yet."

"I know," you whisper, feeling guilty.

"Don't do that again," he commands, his accent thickening with emotion. "You could've hurt yourself even more."

"I know," you repeat, not sure how else to respond.

His head is bowed in concentration as he finishes cleaning the wound, his hands steady despite the anger in his voice. You can see his dark eyelashes fluttering slightly as he works. He applies a little more pressure to the bandage than he should've, and you let out a soft moan. This doesn't go unnoticed by him.

The air in the room seems to shift. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, you see something soften in his gaze before he looks away.

"You're not supposed to like that."

Your cheeks heat up immediately.

He's gotten closer to you, your hands somehow made their way to fist his navy blue linen shirt. His body is between your legs, the delicate material of his pants brushing your skin. His breath is warm against your cheek as he leans in closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't say I mind it either." Your heart races at his proximity, unsure of what to do next.

His hands slide up your thighs, gently caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine. He's going to kiss you, and you can't help but wonder if it's the right decision to let him.

But now is not the time to be rational about it.

"I'm not gonna stop you," you say quietly, "I wouldn't know how."

His eyes darken, pupils dilating with desire. He doesn't move.

It's like you're both aware of the line you're about to cross, so neither of you moves.

You keep your eyes firmly on his face. His lips inch closer to yours, and you feel the heat of his breath on your skin. Your body is angled towards his, hand gripping the edge of the counter. Your slightly damp hair, now cold, making you shiver.

He's impossibly hard against you, the material of his pants is thin, and you're aware of every inch of him pressing against your throbbing core.

"And I wouldn’t know how to stop kissing you," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart. He shifts slightly, causing his erection to press even more firmly against you, both letting out a soft moan. His mouth hovers just inches from yours, just kiss me, you thought.

There's a knock on the bedroom door, which is, by the way, open.

"Dad?" You both freeze.

The bathroom door is slightly ajar, offering a sliver of privacy but not enough to shield you from any potential interruptions.

"Yes?" Cillian calls out, trying to sound casual despite the intense moment that was just interrupted. "We're ordering takeout, do you want anything?"

"No, buddy, we're good, thanks," Cillian replies, his voice strained as he tries to keep his composure. You hear the steps retreating down the hallway.

Cillian steps back, and the absence of his body against yours is jarring. It clearly would've been a mistake to take this further, but a mistake that would've felt so fucking good.

"We shouldn't do this."

He clears his throat. "Yeah."

He moves towards the door, his movements tense and purposeful. "I'm gonna—" he says, motioning the door.

"Yeah," you quickly reply, "I got it."

You watch him leave, the air heavy with unspoken words and unfulfilled desires.

a/n: thank you for reading! please share your thoughts with me, let me know if you guys enjoyed it :)

part two

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x y/n #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy angst #cillian murphy fluff #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fic

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sserpente · 4 months ago

Text

My Pleasure

Excerpt from Gortash's Private Memoirs, No. 48:

Quite recently, I have been able to observe an interesting phenomenon. The new tadpoles, as per my last visit to Moonrise Towers, are forming a protective layer, a membrane, around themselves, a process resembling that of a human or an elven embryo. These rather soft “eggs” filled with brine allow the tadpole to grow without any external influences which in turn improves its quality for later use.

In order to fully embrace this potential, I have a theory that once put into practice, will be exceeding the effectiveness of the brine pools, enabling the production of more tadpoles directly in Baldur’s Gate—as soon as I’ve had it relocated to the city. And all I will need is a woman.

A/N: Okay, hear me out. This is the most depraved, most vile, most perverted, and filthiest thing I have ever written. I actually pondered for a couple of days whether I should post it or not but you know what? Fuck it. The Emperor inspired me. Somehow I really enjoyed writing it and I bet there’ll be at least one person out there who will enjoy reading it and that’s good enough for me. Please, for the love of the gods, HEED THE WARNINGS before proceeding and if you realise this story isn’t for you…don’t keep on reading, don’t traumatise yourself. And if anyone who worked on BG3 one way or another comes across this Imagine and wants to read it…please just don’t? :D

Words: 4435

Warnings: dub-con & non-con smut, abduction & captivity, angst

Additional NSFW warnings: tentacles, ovipositor (yeah that’s a thing I had to google it), eggs, bondage, forced orgasms, edging, mechanical sex device, CMNF, sexual submission, scientific experiment

Gortash’s Private Memoirs, No. 48

The increased production of altered tadpoles is coming to fruition but I cannot help but ponder over how to guarantee success even quicker. Last night, I had a devilishly promising idea. The tadpoles thrive best in warm, dark, and wet environments, hence the brine pools in which they are birthed.

The idea is to insert the tadpole eggs into the vaginal canal of an elven, a human, or a tiefling woman (or any person with a uterus) where they will remain until they are fully grown. If my theory is correct, the eggs will allow the host to easily expel them once they are ready. From there, the eggs will be placed back in a single remaining brine pool where they can hatch, ready for insertion into a citizen.

Your journey, unfortunate as it was, began innocently enough. You came to Baldur’s Gate seeking refuge after the army of the Absolute laid waste to your home. You had nothing left. No gold, no possessions, and nothing more than the clothes you were wearing on your body when you fled.

Baldur’s Gate was your only hope—until it wasn’t. Perhaps the alarm bells should have started ringing when after the eerie assessment of a Steel Watcher—the new guards of the city, so you learned—you were let through past poor and terrified families with children, only to be escorted directly to Wyrm’s Rock by a Fist.

Oblivious still, you obliged, thinking they would need you to register, to record your name. But your journey led you further until you found yourself in the dungeons of the fortress.

And then—darkness, as if someone had taken your memory and left you with nothing but pictorial crumbs and aching limbs.

“Good morning, my dear. Did you sleep well?” Lord Enver Gortash stepped into view after a heavy door fell shut behind him, a sly and cold smile on his lips.

“Please…please let me go.”

It was a game the two of you played. Gortash would show up, loom over you, and mock, tracking his progress—your progress—and you’d plead for him for mercy. The taste of humiliation had long gone stale. Your half-torn dress, the last one you’d owned, was in shreds, revealing your entire lower body and the most intimate parts of you to his calculated gaze.

“You know I cannot do that, my dear. Not when we are so close to success.”

You were his first, he’d said. That he’d seen you through the eyes of his Steel Watch. That you made the perfect test subject.

Lord Enver Gortash—the people’s hero, the city’s saviour…the ruthless tyrant in disguise.

Bound and helpless and at his mercy, he’d taken you captive and had you brought to a secret hideout underneath the Upper City. Hours turned into days, days turned into weeks.

You didn’t know what his plan was. He’d never told you what it was that he wanted from you—what he wanted from your body. Only that not a single day passed on which you were not being violated. Not by him…but by whatever thing he’d tamed. A monster? Perhaps. You’d never seen its face, never even seen a real body—only its long phallic tentacles with a small opening boring themselves deep into your core, again and again, and again.

It was the same procedure every day. Of course, it was. This was your life now. Your body was a tool for whatever sick game Gortash was playing.

You heard them before you saw them. The slimy, slithering sounds of those things. The archduke raised his fist, a purple gemstone illuminating the dimly lit room he kept you in.

A whimper escaped your lips when the tentacles writhed around your thighs and your waist, holding you in place for the vile act they were about to perform on you. There was no pain, at least—the tentacle slipped inside you effortlessly, its shiny saliva, discharge, whatever it was, acting as an odourless lubricant. In, out, in, out. It wasn’t getting any pleasure from the act, nor was it trying to bestow it on you, this much you’d learned quickly. This was about something else entirely. The tentacle curled inside you as if to probe you, to explore you. You winced when it slid across your walls and pressed against your cervix for a moment. Then…it stilled until eventually, it released you and retreated back into the darkness.

Gortash sighed—disappointed by this outcome—he was every day. “A shame. There must be something I am missing.”

“Please…if you let me go, I swear I won’t tell a soul about this.”

Gortash chuckled. “Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t, my dear. But alas, I still need you.”

“Why me?” you whined. “What are you doing to me? What is this…this thing?”

“So many questions… Well, I suppose I can answer one of them at least. Why you? Because it was convenient. You are not Baldurian. Your absence from the city will go unnoticed. You are young, potent, durable…you were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time, my dear.”

“F-for what? Durable for what? For…for this?”

Gortash only chuckled in response. His dark eyes fell on the half-eaten stew from a few hours ago when one of his men you’d recognised as a Banite, reluctantly fed it to you.

“I’ll have something else brought down for you to eat. You’ll need your strength if our little experiment is to work.”

“N-No, fuck you! Please, don’t leave. Please, just…just stop, please, I’ll do anything, please!” You thrashed against your bonds, hot tears burning in your eyes.

Gortash smirked. “Such inappropriate language for a lady. I shall see you tomorrow, my dear.”

Your screams and curses ricocheted off the walls as he left, leaving you to your fate once again and to ponder over how travelling to Baldur’s Gate as an innocent refugee had turned your life into an utter nightmare.

Gortash’s Private Memoirs, No. 49

It turns out that the brain was rejecting the girl for a very specific reason. I was missing a rather significant variable. Arousal. In order for a female to grow warm, wet, and receptive, in this case for the tadpole eggs, she too needs to be in a, let us say, welcoming state.

The tadpoles are used to a wet environment such as that—the vaginal canal will therefore have to replicate it if the brain is to deposit the eggs inside of her.

Now it is highly unlikely to get the test subject into such an aroused state without any external help and additional stimulation. The girl is terrified enough as is, even if I did command the brain to work her to climax and then keep her in a libidinous state, the attempt would prove fruitless.

Taking care of the matter myself is unthinkable, of course. I am Lord Enver Gortash, it is beneath me to lay a hand on a poor refugee girl to pleasure her of all things—even though I will admit that the thought has crossed my mind. My own needs have come rather short since the retrieval of the Crown and with the Urge gone, I have no one else to blow off some steam with every now and then.

Be that as it may, over the last week, I have created a contraption that will easily get the job done for me and simplify this little experiment immensely. In order for it to work, it is of idle importance to focus on the clitoral region. My contraption will stimulate the area with both suction and vibrations.

Connected directly to the brain, it can be powered for a long period of time, enabling me to keep the girl in a constant state of arousal without my interference.

And, on a personal note, the result will truly be a sight to behold.

Gortash did not return the next day, nor the day after. You remained sleepless most nights, dozing off every now and then during the day. Not that you were able to distinguish between day and night anyway. You counted the meals, however. Seven. Seven days went by without him continuing to torment you, and even though the suspense was killing you, the retreating soreness in your aching core, that reminder of those tentacles claiming your cunt for themselves, ebbing away slowly, was a welcome break.

On day eight, the tyrant returned. Your stomach churned when you heard him approach, the way his steps sounded long engrained in your brain.

“Good morning, my dear. I sure hope you haven’t missed me too much. My apologies for neglecting you. I had a couple of things to take care of—archduke duties, you understand.”

“No, please…please, just…”

“Hush now, my dear. Lest I’ll gag you. I believe I realised what my mistake was. The brain has no grounds for breeding if the host is not receptive. It’s kind of obvious once you think about it, really.”

Breeding? “The b-brain? What brain?”

His response never came. You watched him, terrified, as he raised his fist, his purple gemstone glowing yet again.

He spoke up when those loathsome tentacles wrapped around your thighs and your waist to hold you in place, their wet squelching noises sending ice-cold shivers up and down your spine.

“Oh gods…no, please no… s-stop…make it stop…you don’t have to do this, please!”

The archduke did not react—at least not in a way you’d like him to. Instead, he stepped forward, an eerie metal contraption with four metal claw arms and a small, suspicious-looking hole in his hands.

“Oh, don’t worry, my dear. Today is going to be a lot more pleasurable for you than usual.” With that, and ignoring your weak protests, he latched the metal device onto your exposed cunt. The claw arms sprang into action and gripped you immediately, wrapping around the very crease where your thighs and your pubic bone met, the other two dug into your butt cheeks, clinging on to you, lodging the contraption in place. Gortash pressed it down on you further until the round opening enveloped your clit.

You froze. Was he going to hurt you? Torture you? Even without extensive biology lessons on human anatomy at school, it was common knowledge the clitoris had over eight thousand nerve endings. It was sensitive. The pain this little device could inflict…

He left you no time to ponder over it. It hummed to life, tightening around your cunt. But instead of pain, what rippled through you was…pleasure. A gentle suction increasing gradually, combined with soft pulsing vibrations pampering your sensitive bundle of nerves peacefully, having you grow more and more…aroused.

No. This was wrong. You shouldn’t be feeling this way, not here, not when…you gasped when Gortash placed his hand on your bare stomach, the metal claws of his jewellery caressing your skin almost gently.

“That’s it, my dear. Let it happen. You are going to enjoy this one way or another so there is no use fighting it.”

“W-Why are you doing this?” you breathed out.

“You’ll see soon enough. You are going to be part of something extraordinary, dear. You should be honoured.”

You didn’t feel honoured. But you did feel arousal. Your breathing quickened, your core growing warm, wet. It felt…good. And that, given your hopeless situation, was horrifying. You didn’t want this, not like this, not with this faceless beast violating your body, and not in front of him. He had no right to watch you during such an intimate moment and yet…when the suction on your clit increased once again, a moan escaped your lips. Whatever this device was, it had but one purpose—to force an orgasm from you.

Panting, you writhed against your bonds, the tentacles only tightening around you in response and the suction and the vibrations increasing as if the more you resisted, the more Gortash—and whatever this thing was—wanted you to relax into it.

The thick tentacle inside you moved with tenacity, probing and prodding where it didn’t belong. Only this time…this time your body couldn’t help but welcome it. You were lost. Lost in the pleasure, the bliss forced upon you. And the more time passed…the longer Gortash watched every single one of your desperate movements…the more any coherent thoughts left your mind until all there was left was an overwhelming desire…to come.

He was edging you, biding his time. His dark eyes were glued on your pussy as the thick tentacle disappeared inside you again and again and again. Squelching wet sounds echoed through the dimly lit room, riling you up even further. It was your own slickness this time producing these noises…and the more your arousal grew, the more you found yourself giving up all refusal.

You let your head fall back, unable to escape the invasive treatment any longer.

“That should suffice now. You’ve done well, my dear.” Gortash’s hand wandered down to your lower belly, the purple gemstone glowing. “Let us take this up a notch now, shall we?”

“N-n-no…”

Your weak protest fell on deaf ears. Without any forewarning, the pressure on your clit increased even more, the suction growing almost painful. You couldn’t have stopped it even if you had wanted to; the pleasure rippling through you like lightning in a thunderstorm conjured by the gods as you fell apart before him, your wet and aching walls clenching and contracting around the still moving tentacle inside you. You gave in, letting your orgasm consume you. The relief was so overwhelming you were on the verge of tears once the last waves of pleasure subsided and left you shaking in your bonds.

Gortash chuckled darkly. “Bravo…” he praised, his tone condescending, almost mocking.

But this wasn’t over yet, for it was then you felt something being released into your warmth, the tentacle still buried deep in your pussy pumping something into you. Gortash pressed his palm down on your lower belly as if to confirm what was happening.

Your eyes widened as it popped into you, the momentary pressure making you flinch.

“Good, good…keep going.” He wasn’t addressing you anymore. But there was something else you realised. Whatever these tentacles were, whatever they belonged to, they were pumping their eggs into you. Another one plopped in, then another, then another. You whimpered, fear digging its claws deep into your intestines, your heart pounding.

You counted five eggs until it finally stopped and the tentacle retreated. Trembling and with chattering teeth, you found Gortash’s satisfied expression.

“Very good…”

It was his words that finally triggered your full-blown panic, the shock of what had just happened sinking in. You couldn’t feel the eggs inside you anymore, they were small enough not to stretch you out painfully but knowing they were there in the first place…you gasped for air, fending off a panic attack. What if they hatched inside of you? What if whatever was growing inside you now would eventually bite and claw its way out, ripping you open?

“P-please, please, I beg you…get them out of me, please. Please do something, please, please, please…get them o-out of me…” Your words were drowned in sobs and tears, yet Gortash remained unfazed.

“There, there, there is nothing to worry about, my dear. The eggs won’t have to stay up there for too long. A couple of days, at most. Do not attempt to push them out before then,” he demanded—and the fear of what he might do to you if you disobeyed was somehow even greater than what the eggs inside you might do to you after what he already put you through.

“Am I going to die? Is this going to kill me?” you choked out.

“Of course not. Not if you behave. Rest now. I shall return to you soon, my dear. Don’t go anywhere.” He removed his hand from your lower belly and left with a malicious chuckle.

Gortash did not return for another five days, yet his contraption remained latched onto your body, unwillingly bestowing pleasure on you and keeping you in a constant state of arousal, edging you—but never allowing you to finish. To keep the eggs wet. To keep them warm and comfortable. Soon…soon…

Soon this would all be over and perhaps then the tyrannical archduke would let you go, surely. There were no thoughts remaining in your head other than your freedom and relief—sexual relief. Every cell of your body was on fire, and you were sure that the slightest touch, perhaps from a clawed hand, could toss you over the edge and have you coming for hours.

Thinking straight was not an option anymore. It was a luxury you couldn’t afford, not with your nerves turning into lava. You used to welcome the breaks in between—now, they were pure torture, a merciless reminder that Gortash held your pleasure in his hands—and he wasn’t even here.

Perhaps the fact you stopped eating by day three was what had him pay you another visit. Perhaps he merely thought that those disgusting eggs inside of you were ready to hatch. You didn’t feel any different down there. They didn’t grow in size, didn’t move, didn’t poke. But knowing they were there…

You took a deep breath when the door opened and you recognised his footsteps approaching, preparing to start the so-familiar game of begging.

“P-please…” But this time, it was different. You didn’t want to ask him to stop. You wanted him to end it. To finish it—to let you experience the relief he’d been withholding from you for the past five days.

“Please what, my dear? You’re doing quite well…though I am a little concerned you are refusing the food I had my servants bring down. This isn’t some sort of belated rebellion, is it?”

You fought hard to shake your head, tears of exhaustion burning in your eyes. You flinched when the metal contraption hummed to life yet again, vibrating and sucking and forcing you to the edge within seconds.

“P-please…I need to come…I can’t…I can’t…take it anymore. It’s t-too much…please…”

“Hmm…” It was gone before you could be sure but for a moment, you believed to spot genuine desire in his dark eyes. His gaze skimmed over your helpless and trembling body, over your hardened nipples poking through the ruined fabric of your dress, drenched in sweat, and over your exposed sex gushing with your juices. “I don’t see why not. I think we can take the next step. Come, my dear.”

His words alone would have been enough to make you oblige, yet as if on cue, the device’s efforts intensified too. You were barely able to process how fast it tossed you down an endless cliff of bliss and relief. Your orgasm was almost painful as pleasure as sweet as honey and as sharp as glass pulsed through you, making you see stars.

You could feel the eggs now. You were contracting around them, your body forcing them out.

“Very good,” Gortash purred. “Keep going. Push. Them. Out.”

And so you did. Eager to be rid of the foreign spawn resting inside of you. You took a deep breath, the intensity of your climax still clouding your senses, and pushed. At this point, you wouldn’t even have cared if you had peed yourself right in front of him. All you wanted was for this to be over and…more pleasure.

What?

The first two eggs popped out of you, covered in your slick juices and you propped yourself up as best as you could to catch a glimpse of them. Then you wished you hadn’t. They were almost see-through and milky, a tadpole-shaped creature swimming inside acidic-looking water. You were even more eager now to get them out of you, pushing even harder.

Another two eggs plopped out, followed quickly by the last one. You breathed out, relieved. Finally. They’re gone…they’re gone…

Gortash snapped his fingers and seemingly out of nowhere, a Banite hurried toward you to collect the eggs with thick leather gloves on. Where he took them, you didn’t even want to find out. You were glad they were out of sight. And then, at last, he removed the contraption and set it aside.

Your clit was numb—fuck, your entire pussy was numb, and yet…as his fingers brushed over your pelvis…you moaned.

“You have become part of a scientific breakthrough today, my dear. You should be proud.”

“I…I’m…I…”

“Hmm? What’s that? Gods, look at you, you’re a mess.” His eyes found your dripping sex, lingering there a little too long. “If I didn’t know better I’d say you need more.”

Your eyes widened. You didn’t shake your head. You didn’t deny it. Your walls were tingling, needy for something else to mould around. Because he was right. You did need more. And you hated your body for it.

“Beg me,” he demanded.

Your eyes widened in response.

“I…I…”

“Go ahead. Beg me. You want something from me, my dear.”

You swallowed. There wasn’t much of your pride left anyway. “P-please…”

“Please what?”

“Please…h-help me.”

Gortash tilted his head, clearly amused by your weak request—but he seemed satisfied.

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified when he opened his trousers and pulled out his cock. You had affected him. He was hard. Or perhaps it was the simple fact you were in such a submissive state that had gotten him so aroused.

He positioned himself between your legs, his red tip pressing against your slick entrance. There was no need to prepare you for this after all. One way or another…you had begged him for it.

Gortash pushed inside with but one long thrust, slipping inside you to the hilt. You whimpered when his pelvis, lined with curly black hair, brushed against your clit. It was no gentle lovemaking. It was pure, carnal fucking.

He withdrew almost entirely, his fingers digging into your thighs. The metal claws hurt like a bitch but you were so beyond any sensation aside from pleasure you barely registered it. When he plunged back in, you gasped for air, his steady and frantic rhythm eliciting moan after moan after moan.

This…was heavenly. His strokes were caressing your walls, hitting all those pleasurable spots times and times again until you turned into an all but whining mess on the brink of orgasm.

“I can feel you tightening around me…” he purred, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Go ahead. Come. Come.”

His words were like a trigger. Unable to resist, you threw your head back, clenching your fists. Your climax hit you like a tidal wave, pulling you into a restless sea of bliss. You contracted around him, your sex begging him for his seed.

Your eyes widened when he groaned and with one final thrust, buried himself as deep inside you as he could and stilled. You were not on birth control… you could only pray that Gortash had planned ahead for this.

His breathing calmed again, and so did yours. Eventually, after a few moments of surprisingly comfortable silence, he withdrew, sending a wet noise through the dimly lit room. He tucked his cock away as if none of this had just happened. When you looked up, you noticed the satisfied smirk in his eyes.

“Please don’t…put eggs in me again, please… I’ll do anything!” And you meant it. Perhaps it was your mushy brain malfunctioning as a result of being edged for so long. And now that Gortash himself had taken pleasure from you…he might feel something like empathy for you?

“Anything?” He smirked. But the tyrant ignored your pathetic request. “Do you feel better now, my dear?”

You nodded, unable to lie even if you had wanted to.

He chuckled and turned to leave. “Good. I’ll have someone sent down to get you out of these bonds.”

He’d let you go. It was over. You’d done it… Against all reason, you smiled, relief flushing your entire body.

Gortash’s Private Memoirs, No. 50

I spoke too harshly, perhaps. The tadpoles, just like I predicted, are doing fine, of course. They are stronger than ever and developed much quicker than even I anticipated. I will soon have some Black Gauntlets sent out to fetch some more subjects.

But this very first test subject…I found myself quite surprised I enjoyed holding her pleasure in my hands. After the insertion of the eggs, she turned into a helpless mess, completely defenceless. She practically begged me to fuck her. And I must admit, the sight of her slick sex did stir a fire in my loins. So I obliged. For I, Lord Enver Gortash, too have needs, do I not?

The girl did her job well. She was…as obedient as can be in her predicament. Such behaviour should be rewarded. Needless to say, she begged me to let her go after I had my fill of her. But I think I have a better idea. I have long been toying with the idea of getting myself a concubine to keep my bed warm at night. And after what I have put her through, she is way too terrified to cause me any trouble or pry into my business.

The plan will be as follows: Send the Banites in the Lower City and Rivington on a quest to find as many hosts as possible. Anyone with a uterus will do. They will focus on the poor and the few refugees that made it into the city, of course. These disappearances have to remain inconspicuous, after all.

Next, I will have the underground facility in the Upper City near the brain expanded and hire more servants (or slaves, whichever is at my disposal when the time comes) to take care of their well-being while they breed the eggs. As for the girl…she will be mine alone.

#lord gortash #gortash x reader #gortash x you #gortash imagine #lord gortash smut #gortash smut #lord enver gortash #gortash x female reader #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 imagine #bg3 #bg3 imagine #jason isaacs #enver gortash #enver gortash imagine #enver gortash smut #enver gortash x you #enver gortash x reader

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merrybloomwrites · 5 months ago

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HS4 at Midnight?

Summary: Harry's performance with Stevie Nicks has his fans wondering if HS4 will be announced soon. Little do they know that you and Harry have other exciting news to share.

Word Count: 770

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When Harry steps out wearing his suit, you get hit with a wave of nostalgia. It’s been nearly a year since he’s last been on stage, and what a year it’s been. So much has happened in your lives, and miraculously, Harry’s fans still haven’t figured it out.

They’ll know soon, though. But the secret is safe for a little bit longer.

“Can you help with the pin?” He asks, and you quickly straighten the bird he’s wearing in honor of Christine.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Excited. And nervous. I always love singing with Stevie. But it’s been so long, and I just know my fans are gonna go crazy. It’s been so calm lately,” he answers.

“I know, I love our little bubble too. But I really think it’s the time to pop it, don’t you agree?”

“You’re right, as always,” he says and presses a kiss to your lips.

After another few minutes you leave Harry’s side so he can head backstage. You join Gemma and the rest of Harry’s friends who are there to watch.

When he comes onstage you stick close to his sister. You’ve become so close, especially lately, and you’re truly both a bit emotional watching Harry sing with one of his idols. Neither of you do a great job holding in the tears of overwhelming pride seeing him up on that stage.

After the show is over you and Harry head back home, choosing to ignore social media for the moment. But you can’t help checking the next day, and one thing in particular catches your eye.

“They’ve all got a theory,” you say to him, providing no context.

“Who?”

“Your fans. They seem to have noticed a pattern.”

“Ah, and what would that be?”

“That you always do a performance like this and then announce a new album right after. So far I’ve seen about twenty people saying ‘HS4 at midnight?’”

Harry laughs and replies, “Oh they have no idea what’s about to go down.”

You’re about to respond when a sound distracts you, pulling you away from the conversation.

A few more days pass and you walk into the living room to see Harry on his phone, giggling and typing.

“What are you doing?” you ask. He doesn’t answer, just turns his phone to you so you can see what he’s up to. He’s on instagram, making a story to post to his main account. It’s just a black screen with the eyes emoji and the word “tomorrow”.

“Oh you are so mean,” you say, laughing right along with him.

“It’s fun to tease them, just a little bit. And see all their theories. I wonder if anyone will guess right.”

“A couple might. I mean, most will guess new album but there will definitely be some who think differently.”

“We’ll know soon,” he says as he officially posts his story. The views come a second later, and within minutes people are posting all over the internet, excited to finally hear from Harry after a year away.

The two of you spend time that evening crafting the announcement post, choosing just the right pictures and caption. You hope that people won’t be disappointed, but try not to think about the potential negative responses. Rather, you and Harry focus on the excitement you know will come.

The next morning, after a quiet family breakfast, Harry looks over the post one last time before sharing it with the world.

Under a series of photos of your beautiful family, all posed just right to hide your newborn daughter's face, is the caption “Baby Styles. Out now. This past year has been the most exciting time in my life. Becoming a father has been a truly wonderful experience. To my wife, thank you, thank you, thank you, for this gift. I am so impressed by you, so proud of the mum that you are, and I cannot wait for us to watch this little girl grow up together.”

For the rest of the day, you and Harry keep an eye on the comments while taking care of your two month old. As expected, some people are disappointed by the lack of new music, but the response is overwhelmingly positive. Everyone is excited that Harry is officially a girl dad, and the word ‘congratulations’ is written so many times it starts to look fake.

That evening, you settle in for your favorite concert of all time. This one happens every night, and it’s just for you and your little one. As Harry croons to your daughter, you grow impossibly more fond of this man.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction

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iamthatonefangirl · 5 months ago

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unrequited - harvey specter

now that i'm getting back into the hang of writing hopefully my work quality will improve from whatever this is

send fic ideas!!! all the love on my recent harvey posts is what's keeping me going

also i can only write angst because i am still desperately crushing on my coworker oops

~~~

Your relationship with Harvey was like a ticking time bomb.

You knew that you couldn’t keep this up forever; your feelings for him were too intense. They kept you awake at night, and they kept you from being able to date other men you knew you could like if not for him. Your feelings boiled up inside you day in and day out, and you were forced to suppress them. Harvey Specter was not the relationship type.

You loved him too deeply to think the feelings would just go away one day. No, you would have to cut them off at the source. And that meant leaving not only your firm, but also the city in which you had built your connections, your career, your entire life. All to get away from the one thing you wanted so badly it was beginning to destroy the rest of your life.

He had so easily turned into the main character of your story; it was time to reclaim your position as the protagonist. But that meant outcasting him for good.

When you first started at Pearson Specter, now Specter Litt, you were one of the few associates who Harvey had ever chosen to work directly with him. Years of watching and picking up on how he operated allowed you to grow to your full potential as an attorney at the firm, and for that, you couldn't be more grateful. Which is why even though you no longer worked very closely with him, having been promoted to junior partner, you knew he would be upset to hear your news of departure.

You didn’t want to think about how you would eventually have to quit returning his calls and effectively ghost him to get on with your life.

You expected him to ask what you wanted in return for staying at the firm, and when you would turn down the offer, he would lash out at you. You would leave the office and wouldn’t hear from him again until he called you a month later to check in. This was how it always went with him; it wouldn’t be any different this time around.

Monday morning came around eventually, no matter how much you willed it wouldn’t. Stepping into his office, you were rightfully nervous to broach the topic. “Harvey, do you have a minute?”

He glanced up at you from his desk before replying, “Do any of us around here have a spare minute?” You chuckled at his response and shut the door behind you.

“I’m serious.” He shut his laptop and turned to you. You sat down in front of his desk, hands fidgeting and eyes darting back and forth between him and the files on his desk.

“I’m here to give you my official notice.”

The half-smile he wore when you first walked in shattered. It pained you to see, but you steeled yourself. You knew what to expect next; you just had to grit your teeth and bare through the conversation.

“I’ve been working on finishing up my recent cases over the last few weeks, and so I’m giving you my two-week’s. I’ve already spoken to some of the other partners who have agreed to take over my cases going forward, and I’ll be giving notice to my clients this week.”

He didn’t say anything at all. Now that was uncharacteristic of him.

He soon gathered his thoughts. He averted his eyes as he told you, “No need. I’ll waive your non-compete. You can take your clients with you to wherever you’re going.” He shifted his gaze back to you. “Just answer me this, what did they offer you?”

You didn’t quite understand. “What do you mean?”

He had that serious look on his face, the one he always sported when he realized he was caught in a bind. “The firm you’re leaving me for. What did they offer you to get you to leave?”

“Harvey, they didn’t– I’m not–”

“Senior partner? A higher salary? Because all of those things can be arranged for here, you know that. Just say the word.”

He may have been upset, but he could not possibly have understood how difficult this was for you. His words the firm you’re leaving me for couldn’t have been more true, you were leaving him; no matter how you tried to tell him, you reminded yourself he couldn’t know that.

You paused a moment to exhale before telling him the truth.

“I’m not leaving to go to another firm, you don’t need to waive my non-compete.”

His lips parted ever so slightly as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“I’m going home, Harvey. I’m leaving for San Francisco.”

~~~

He had no idea what you were talking about. Home? How hadn’t this city become your home? This firm? Him?

You rendered him temporarily speechless. He tried to offer you more and more incentive to stay, but you refused.

“I’ll double your salary. I’ll give you a bigger bonus than you’ve ever seen in your life.” You declined. “I’ll promote you. You can be elected a senior partner within the week, and I’ll pay your buy-in fee.”

Why was he trying so hard to get you to stay?

No matter how enticing the offers he made you might have been, you had one goal in mind: protecting your peace. Protecting your future from a man who would continue to take more and more parts of you until you were nothing apart from him. You had to leave before you couldn’t find your way back without him.

“Harvey, I’m leaving, That’s final.” You stood and began for the door.

“How dare you?” You heard from behind you.

Suddenly angered, you turned back to him, “Excuse me?”

“After everything I’ve done for you, you’re leaving, just like that. You’re going to drop everything just for some nostalgic memory of where you grew up?”

“How dare you! Don’t you speak to me that way, Harvey. You have no idea why it is that I’m leaving!” You yelled back at him, finger pointing in his face.

“So tell me!”

“You want the truth, Harvey? I’m in love with you. And I will never escape you any other way. So forget my two week’s notice. I’ll handle all my affairs from home. You’ll have my letter of resignation within the hour.”

With what little dignity you felt you had left, you walked out of the room with your head held high.

~~~

He had no idea, obviously. Of course he felt a connection to you; he trained you, taught you how the world of corporate law worked.

How long had you felt that way? Is there something he could’ve done to avoid this whole situation? His most promising junior partner was leaving, and there was nothing he could do about it. It was his own fault entirely.

He was determined to get the chance to apologize when you came back with your resignation letter. He would straighten out the situation, explain that you could still work there. It wasn’t the end of the world.

Of course, he got called away from his office for a period of time. The letter was there when he returned, and his hopes of keeping you were gone.

~~~

You knew that in the books, the idea of people saying things in the heat of the moment were common occurrences. You didn’t think it could ever happen to you in real life, though. You intended for him to never discover this truth you hid from him. It was simpler that way.

But of course, you were wrong, and it all came out before you had a chance to bite your tongue. Now you had to clean out your desk quickly and say your goodbyes quietly.

~~~

Three months later, you were settling into your new position. Since you anticipated spending another two weeks in New York, you had a whole month between your resignation and the time you were expected to start in California.

You were finally starting to live your life more for yourself. You thought about Harvey less and less each day, until you could go out and meet another man without feeling like you were cheating on him. Crazy how you never got to call him yours, but still felt disloyal whenever you tried to go out with someone else while you were still in New York.

Although you didn’t have the close relationship with your new supervisor that you had with Harvey, you felt welcomed and supported by your coworkers. You hated to admit that life was dull for a great number of weeks as you went through Harvey withdrawals, but it was true. Things were finally starting to get better until you got a knock on your door one day.

~~~

You’d blocked Harvey’s number on your phone for a great many number of reasons. You never expected him to just show up at your new place, though.

“Harvey? What are you doing here?” you questioned.

“Can I come in?” You allowed it.

“You haven’t been taking my calls,” he pointed out to you, to which you replied, “I blocked you, Harvey. Why are you not in New York right now?”

“I needed to see you,” was his only response. And with just those five little words, all the work you’d done to get over him was erased. It allowed your mind to flood with ideas of him wanting you in any way other than professionally or platonically. Damn you, Harvey, you thought.

“For what?”

“I want you to come back.” Unhelpful answer.

“Why?”

“You sure ask a lot of questions, don’t you? I want you to come back because I trained you, and you’re an asset to the firm that we’re losing out on.”

“So you’re only here for a return on your investment in me.”

As you said that to him, he realized he fucked up.

“Look, I didn’t mean–”

“Yes! You absolutely did! You show up here, out of nowhere, telling me that you need my skills to benefit the firm, not that you might just want me to come back. Not that maybe I myself am beneficial to the firm, or even that you just miss me! God, can you really not acknowledge what I told you the last time I saw you?”

He paused. “Look, I know what you said. Yet still, I came.”

“And what does that mean, exactly? That you’ve suddenly come to terms with it and realized that you love me too?”

He didn’t respond at all.

“I’m not coming back, Harvey. I need a life separate from you. I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

He shook his head in agreement. “I’m sorry I can’t be what you need me to be.” He turned towards the doorway and saw himself out as the tears started welling up in your eyes.

Those were the last words you heard from him for a very long time.

~~~

masterlist

#fem reader #harvey specter #harvey specter x reader #harvey specter x you #self indulgent #self insert #suits #suits tv #my writing #angst #sad ending

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djarinterstellar · 2 years ago

Text

Safe Place

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: What starts as a night off alone escalates into some trouble in town. Luckily, when you’re employed by one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy, backup is never too far away.

Tags/Warnings: category is- MUTUAL PINING[!!] they just don’t know it. mostly comfort/fluff. some violence in the beginning + 1 minor injury. mentions of alcohol and spice (cannabis) use. Reader is fadeddd most of the plot lmao. Protective/Soft Din 🥰 mentions of Force-sensitive Reader. also no Grogu today, it’s past his bedtime :(

Word Count: 8.6k

a/n: not me posting this on the cusp of season 3 finally premiering 💀 also this was supposed to be shorter but honestly, this thing got so out of hand so fast, idek why it drags on for as long as it does. but i was inspired by this very stoned prompt i thought of months ago with my favorite tin can babygirl and decided to finally finish it so. here we go. ✨

ps: i’m still trying out the 3rd person pov thing so lemme know if you hate it or not. also to settle any confusion amid the new szn, this takes place between s1 and 2 :)

Translation: Sen’ika = little bird

It’s supposed to be an easy night.

Mando is on a hunt and she’s been left in charge in his absence. Normally she would’ve argued coming along and you know, making herself useful as she’d originally agreed upon. But the Crest could only land so close and the additional foot travel was too long and treacherous for the Child to follow along. Plus Red trusted her enough to leave her alone with his foundling without making off with his ship and she had no other choice but to agree.

A few days had passed now since he’d departed. He estimated he’d return in about a week, so she was in no rush in waiting for him. Mando had settled them on the outskirts of town, far enough where they could lay low in peace but still close enough for her to make any emergency supply runs in town. She was left with everything she needed to care for the kid. And with specific instructions not to leave the Crest unless it was absolutely necessary.

Which is exactly what she decided to categorize this as.

The pair of double doors leading into the local cantina burst open and she stumbles back out into the streets, giggling to herself as she cradles a pair of warm cider bottles to-go in her pouch. She hadn’t planned on lingering at the bar but three drinks and a pair of shots with a group of local girls later, plans were changed. She was even invited out back to share a round of their spice joint, a generous offer she simply couldn’t refuse. She was now blissfully intoxicated and felt lighter and happier than she’d been in weeks.

The kid had finally settled in earlier and if his recent patterns served her correctly, he’d be down for the rest of the night. She was finally alone, a privilege she found extremely rare these days since joining Mando’s crew, which gave her ample time to wander into town. Was it responsible of her to leave the Crest and the kid alone? Most would argue it wasn’t, Red most of all. But he wasn’t here to say no! Plus, she had locked the ship down to keep the kid inside and protected from any potential stragglers. All goes well, she would be in and out before he woke up.

And she was confident about this because she’d already gone out just last night. Sure, she hadn’t been out this long, but again, Mando wasn’t expected anytime soon.

She liked exploring towns. It gave her a reason to not only scope out her environment, but to familiarize herself with the locals and figure out which spots in town were traveler-friendly. It was easy to wander when she was on her own, but now that she was a full-time employee, it had become somewhat of a rare treat.

It was week’s end for these particular folks, which meant most of them were out in droves tonight. She could still hear the fits of laughter and drunken serenades belting out of the cantina behind her as she walked away. The air was far cooler at night and the refreshing taste of it in her lungs gave her cloudy head the clearance it needed.

She was delightfully drunk and probably just as high, but she was conscious enough to know she needed to get back. Leaving the kid alone for a couple of hours was fine, but stretching it out any longer than that was far too much of a risk. Live music was playing somewhere from around the corner, locals dashing around her as they hopped from one cantina to another.

The energy buzzed around her like an electric current, yet she walked with a familiar ease. She felt oddly safe within the center of town. But as she drifted further into the outskirts, the street lamps dulled and the crowds thinned out. A pair of fraternal moons became her guiding light as she willed herself to remember the path back to the Crest.

And for a while, it was fine. Despite the silence, she couldn’t help but feel a bit more on edge out here alone than when she was surrounded by a bunch of drunk miners. She ignored it though, trying to tell herself it was probably the spice making her antsy. But the farther she walked, the longer her paranoia festered and itched and scratched until she realized it wasn’t the libations talking to her.

It was the Force.

She realized too late she was being followed until just before she was confronted. A Balosar male slinks out from an alleyway behind her, long and slim with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his oversized coat. She wills herself to keep her eyes straight ahead but she could hear him glide over to her side to match her stride.

“Where ya goin’ sugar? The party’s that way!” he drawled, sending an immediate chill up her spine. Shit.

“I know where I’m going,” She doesn’t look at him as she attempts to brush past him. “Have a good night.”

He reacts by slipping around her once more, this time blocking her path directly ahead. “Whoa whoa, take it easy!” His accent is thick and laced in what she can only describe as mock-innocence. “Relaax, nobody’s gettin’ hurt here!”

Her facial expressions remain unmoved, glancing up at him boredly. In reality though, her heart was hammering against her ribcage. The last thing she needed, especially right now, was unwanted attention from anybody, let alone from this total stranger. She moves to step forward but he cuts in her way, a sly grin stretching across his face.

“It’s okay baby,” Her stomach internally caved in at the pet name. “just tryna find where the cool people hang out.”

“Wouldn’t know where to point you to.” she replies flatly, straightening her back. “Excuse me.”

She attempts to move around him again, but his arm comes up to lay on the wall next to her and he leans forward to cave her in. “Where’re you from then? I’ve never seen anyone this pretty so far out here.” His free hand inches towards her face but she’s quick to turn her cheek, her jaw clenching behind her lips.

“And you never will.” she snaps back, already inching backwards.

This only prompts him to step closer, a frown crossing his slimy face. “Ey, you don’t have to be a bitch.” His tone switches almost predictably and her hand slips behind her cloak to reach for her holster.

“Back off.” she snarls him a warning with the coldest glare she can make.

He tries reclosing the gap between them again. “C’monn honey- ”

“NO.” Her fight-or-flight instinct kicks in and she fully pushes her weight on him to shove him down. Her stand off is cut short though when he finds his balance and pushes back. She’s thrown back against the wall and before she can even process it, a pocket knife is jabbed against the skin of her neck.

Shadows move over his shoulder in her peripheral vision and when she follows them, 3 more Balosars creep out of the dark, hovering behind the first one in a sort of half circle around her.

It’s at this moment that she realizes 2 distinct things. Firstly, she doesn’t recognize them. In her 4 or so days since they touched down, she’d observed the villagers in her down time and gathered a very broad consensus of who was who— and in that time, she hadn't seen any Balosars in this town, which told her they were also just passing by. Secondly, she thinks as she watches the other 3 close in, she’s tangled herself in a very complicated web here. It was 4 against 1, with a notable size difference amongst all of them. She couldn’t see straight, was hilariously underprepared for a fight given the company she was currently keeping, she was fucked up and only growing more inebriated as her vices soaked into her bloodstream, and she was alone. No baby, no bar friends, no civilian witnesses.

No Mando.

Fuck.

A strangled little noise escapes her throat when the knife is pinched further into her skin and she curses herself at how whimpered it comes out.

“Fine, since you wanna do this the hard way..” the first Bathosar sneers almost mockingly, his frame towering over her own.

She’s curling into the overcast of her cloak when her fingers finally find the handle of her blaster, skin digging tightly into the cool of the metal. She looks into his eyes and sucks in a deep breath before the tension snaps.

Fuck it.

In an instant, a shot zaps out, aimed directly at his foot. He cries out when it makes contact, and she smashes her blaster across his temple when he folds over in distracted pain, his knife clattering to the ground. Despite her inebriation, she can sense the others jumping into action and she points her gun at the closest one, shooting him right in his chest before he can get any closer. She doesn’t have time to watch his body crumple to the floor as she turns to shoot at the other two, a rapid succession of plasma bolts whizzing out almost desperately. Her second target barely misses her line of fire and as she follows his trail, she fails to block the third Balosar from tackling her into the wall. She cries out as he harshly elbows her wrist to disarm her, the blaster forced out of her hand.

“Grab her!” She hears her attacker hiss from above her before she’s suddenly snatched from behind. Her arms are pinned to her sides as she’s grabbed and lifted several inches off the ground.

Her heart is pounding, blood pumping into her ears as she yells out. Her feet start kicking furiously in an instant, every functional instinct left in her telling her to fight back. “Get off me!” she shrieks, flailing until her boot finally connects with a knee. She hears him yelp behind her, his grip slipping. She jabs her elbow fully into his nose, sending them both tumbling.

Two separate voices are shouting incoherently above her in a blend of confusion and exasperation. She can see her blaster just feet away and she starts crawling, scrambling in a desperate effort to reach it, until she’s yanked backwards by her ankle.

“Pin her down.” she hears one of them growl maliciously from above.

Her stomach turns as she’s dragged back into her assailant’s grip, trails of her fingernails digging into the dirt floor. She feels her brain short-circulating in its panic so she resorts to one last defense tactic.

She starts screaming.

And it’s a shriek that’s piercing and raw and louder than she was planning it to be. But she screams anyway in hopes that anyone within the block can at least hear her, even if it’s another drunken villager on their way home.

“Shut her up!” A second voice hisses hastily, hands scrambling to smother her.

“NO- ” She bites down on the first hand that touches her face and only squeals louder, her pitch jumping another octave in her hysteria. She starts kicking again, nails scrambling in the dirt for a spare rock, a glass shard, anything physical to grab in her defense. When her palms only fill with clumps of dirt and sand, she clenches her fists around them anyway.

What started as a dreamy, whimsical high has quickly soured into a debilitating panic trip. Rather than floating in euphoric bliss, she feels tranquilized, her focus and motor skills severely hindered and overpowered by these 3 much larger adversaries. Her stomach is turning over under her ribs, waves of nausea churning with her rising panic. Her heart is pounding too fast she feels, and her lungs are tightly clenched despite how fast she’s gasping for air.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until she’s flipped on her back, the welling tears spilling down her temples. Before she can scream again, a balled up handkerchief is forced into her mouth. Two of them meanwhile, are putting their full weight down on her to pin her limbs to the ground. The first one is limping over to them, his knife recovered in his hand while patches of fresh blood trail behind his injured foot. She audibly whimpers now, wriggling in their grasp like a drowning fish.

“You know.. I was gonna let you go after all this,” he starts, turning his blade over in his hand as if to inspect it. “But that was before I believed the rumors.” He pauses here, and the dread is only momentarily overwhelmed by her instinctive curiosity. “I mean- we all knew the bounty’s primary target was a Mandalorian with a green pet- ” Her stomach drops. “ -but there was no mention anywhere about his pretty little accomplice.”

She rustles again as he looms over her. “And I gotta tell ya, I didn’t think it was true at all. I mean, a Mandalorian with a business partner? And a girl at that!?” He almost laughs before he pivots. “But then we sees’ you in town, carryin’ this little guy around, and we think, maybe there’s some truth in all this, ya know?” Her stomach sinks even lower at the realization that they not only spotted her with the kid, but that they’d been watching her this whole time too.

Double fuck.

Suddenly, he’s kneeling in front of her, his injured foot tucked behind his knee, and she’s roughly sat up to face him by the snatch of her hair. “So here’s what’s gonna happen,” She grunts helplessly when his blade is pressed deeper against her neck as the three men crowd around her. “you’re gonna point me in the direction of the gremlin, you’re gonna watch us shoot his kidnapper, and then, and only then, will I finally kill you myself.”

Her brows crease in pain as she tries to pull away from his blade, but the hand twisted in the back of her hair only pushes her into it. The handkerchief is yanked out for her to answer and his head tilts to catch her eyes. “So?” he snaps. “What’s it gonna be? Now or later?”

Her eyes harden, nostrils flaring. Honestly, right now, she just wants to tell him to fuck off. It’s not like this was her first time being mugged and/or threatened, and unfortunately not while inebriated either. But this one felt pretty damn close to getting got. Her brain is already scrambling between scattered half-assed theories on how to get her out of this.

Fw-ip !

A whizzing sound passes under her and it’s so subtle, she almost doesn’t notice it. Then there’s a pause of silence that’s almost too heavy to be coming from nothing before she notices that the first guy’s eyes have blown wide open. They make eye contact and she squints, almost confused.

Suddenly, he’s thrown back and he starts screaming before she realizes he’s being yanked into the shadows by his wounded foot. She can hear the mechanical whizzing again as he’s dragged, even over his friends’ shouting, and it takes another split second for her to realize it’s a whipcord. And just like that, the Force alerts her that she’s not alone again. But instead of dread, something else flutters in her gut.

The Balosar’s screams are cut short by a single blaster shot, and she inhales a gasp of air before a chill crawls up her spine.

Two heavy, familiar boot steps clunk in front of them as its owner steps into the dim lighting.

She exhales and pure euphoria blooms in her chest.

He’s towering over them, broad shoulders stiff and gloved hands clenched into iron fists, his armor gleaming like a beacon even in the cover of night.

She can’t stop the smile that’s spreading across her face. “Mando..-”

“Kill him!” One of the Balosars yanks her back into his chest as his friend scrambles to his feet, blaster already in hand. She squeaks and the sound seems to snap Mando into full action. She’s yanked to her feet as his arm wrangles itself around her neck.

From here though, she can see her Mandalorian in his full glory. She watches him stalking towards his prey, blaster bolts bouncing off his beskar like raindrops as the other guy empties his clip into him. And of course, when that doesn’t work, he headbutts him to stun him before striking. Despite the weight of his armor, Mando moves like a viper and is just as deadly.

She feels herself being dragged away and she grunts in protest, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. It’s then she remembers one hand is still clenched. Without a second thought, she swings backwards, smacking the guy right in the face as she temporarily blinds him with a fistful of dirt.

“Agh- !” He shouts and she slips out his grip. She starts towards Mando, but then she’s grabbed by her hair and is yanked backwards with a cry. “Fuckin’ bitch- !” She hears him snarl before the back of his hand strikes her directly across her cheek.

She drops against the brick wall behind her, his body towering her, but from the corner of her eye, she spots Mando. The second guy is now motionless on the floor and his helmet is fully trained on the last one. And based on the swell of his chest and how hard he’s breathing now, she doesn’t need to gauge anything else; he just saw what he did and he’s furious.

He crosses the space between them and drags him backwards and away from her. The Balosar starts fighting back but he's quickly overpowered as he’s disarmed with an unnatural twist of his wrist. Mando spins him around and lands a punch directly into his face once, twice, thrice and then a final fourth blow before the guy falls to his knees. And it’s there that he goes for the kill, grabbing his head with both gloved hands and snapping his neck with an enraged grunt and a sickening crunch.

She watches the final body crumple to the floor with blown out eyes and her jaw fully dropped. She’s physically shaking, she realizes, and can barely breathe, let alone stand on her own. But when Mando finally turns to her, his chest rising and falling, she clings to the wall behind her to gather herself back up.

“What the hell happened??” Mando’s tone is harsh and agitated, even under his modulated panting. “You weren’t on the ship when I-”

He’s cut off when she runs straight into his arms. She all but collapses into his chest, arms coiled around his neck and her face smothered into his cowl. Before he can even process what’s happening, she pulls back to look up at him. “You’re earlyy!” She’s practically beaming up at him, one of her hands tracing the cheekbone of his helmet.

He’s speechless. First, a hug. And now she’s.. glad to see him? Not to mention how she’s smiling up at him with those big, adoring puppy-dog eyes. She’s never been this nice to him before, not even around the Child. “I- ” he hesitates before clearing his throat. “ -Yes. The target uh, took less time than I thought.”

This only makes her smile wider before she buries herself in him again. This time, her arms slip around his back, her cheek leaning into his chest plate. She could care less about how the edges of his armor were pinching into her skin, or how his fully loaded bandolier was pressed very uncomfortably into her collarbone. All that mattered to her right now, was this. “I’m so happy you’re here.” she all but whimpers, closing her eyes to savor the coolness of his beskar and the familiar scent of metal and gun smoke.

Now Mando was really stunned. But he can also feel the physical tremble in her muscles and the speed of her pulse, so he relents with a long sigh before a single arm drapes around her back. “Are you okay?” he asks, his tone much softer this time.

She nods into his chest before pulling away again. “Y-Yeah I just- ” she takes a deep breath and lets out a shaky exhale. “ -that was.. too close..”

“What happened?” He decides to ask again. “Are you hurt?” His hands quickly pat her down as if checking her for any other injuries before one of them comes up to gently cup her chin. He carefully tilts her face to get a better view of her red cheek and it doesn’t go unnoticed when she refuses to make eye contact. His helmet tilts ever so slightly. “Sen’ika..”

Her lips press together and her brows furrow as she flinches. “Well..”

“Did they kidnap you?” He asks, his other hand gesturing towards the 3 bodies behind him.

This makes her head snap back up. “No! No, they had no idea where I was staying. They were just trying to follow me back t..” she trails off the moment her brain catches up to her lips, and now that she’s face-to-face with him, she can practically feel Mando’s visor burning a hole into her forehead.

The pause between them stretches out uncomfortably before he finally speaks. “Where did you go?” His voice makes her insides squirm, like a teenager getting caught out after curfew.

“Uh..” She starts and suddenly she’s become hyper-aware of how hot her face is. She can’t remember the last time he was this close to her, and the realization of this somehow makes her self-conscious. She’s also still remarkably faded, too faded in fact to fake any semblance of sobriety. And if he’s already here, there’s really no point in lying to him, he’s way too smart for that. “..the bar.” she finally finishes meekly.

His shoulders slump as he exhales. “You got drunk?” he asks incredulously.

Her face brightens in embarrassment. “Okay, look- ” she starts and she can practically hear him groan under his helmet as he looks up to the sky. “-to be fair, I only went after the kid passed out, cause I knew he wouldn’t wake up.”

When she looks up, his helmet only tilts to the side, a silent move that only prompts her to keep going. “Ok, so there’s this pattern I’ve noticed, so when you give him a full meal and a glass of warm milk, and then you just let him play with his toys and get him to make them float around the room, after a certain time, he’ll get super tired and, like, fully sleep through the night. And I know that sounds like the most basic excuse in the book but I swear I tested this three nights in a row and it worked every time, okay so I wasn’t being totally stupid..”

She doesn’t realize how long she’s been rambling until she glances up again. He’s now leaned in closer to her, and for a moment she thinks he’s examining her cheek again. What she doesn’t realize is how carefully he’s looking into her eyes. He can tell she’s been drinking by now, and despite the trauma of the attempted assault on her just now, her eyes are still way too bloodshot to just be the liquor. Not to mention the hint of another smell on her..

She inhales sharply through her nose when she feels his gloved hands slip over her own. She gazes into his visor, as if straining to look for a pair of eyes behind it and leans in ever so slightly. She’s never been as curious to see what his expression looks like as she is right now. Her face softens as she stares up at him. “Mando..?” Her voice is just above a whisper and oh-so delicate.

She can feel his thumbs gently press into the pulse points of her wrists as he stares at her, and the surprising warmth of his touch makes butterflies flutter in her ribs. And just before she can open her mouth to call out to him again, he leans directly into her eye level.

“Are you high?” He’s audibly confused.

Her eyes turn into saucers in silent panic and it’s here that he can see her pupils are blown wide open.

“…Uhhhh…”

He sighs heavily as his head drops in defeat. It’s the only answer he needs.

“Okay,” he relents as he lets go of her. “Get your stuff. Let’s go home.”

He immediately stiffens once the words slip out. Oh, fuck fuck fuck.

No Din, no! This was temporary, remember?? She’d only made that abundantly clear the day she stepped foot on the Crest with a single bag and 2 datapads. It was always a mutual agreement though: she was to join him on the Crest to work full-time on tracking down a Jedi, with a deadline of at least a couple of months before he was to drop her off at a new planet of residency of her choosing. After all, she’d only just begun resettling her life and it was a path she intended to follow through on her own. Din understood this partnership was fleeting and it was unfair of him to call this ‘home’, yet for some reason, he insisted on slipping up in little moments like this again and again.

Though based on the glazed, clueless look in her eyes, she didn’t notice at all. “Okay.” she simply says, turning around to scan the alley for her belongings. As she skirts off in one direction, Din sees her blaster laying just a couple of feet away. He picks it up for her when a loud clanging catches his attention.

“Hey!” She calls out, straining to pull her bag out from under one of the bodies. Once she rolls him off with a kick of her foot, she holds up her bag and pulls out one of the sources of the noise. “Look, the cider survived!”

His helmet tilts almost disapprovingly, but he does nothing else as he holds her blaster out to her. “C’mon.” he all but huffs impatiently.

“Okay okay, sorryy- ” she slurs, stumbling over the same body as she returns and accepts her blaster. “One of these are yours ya know!” Mando is already walking away as she’s throwing her up bag over her shoulder, and she has to scramble to keep up with him, a move that makes her trip on her own two feet.

His helmet tilts over his shoulder at her. “Can you walk?” She’s not sure if it’s meant to sound demeaning or not, but it makes her puff her chest as she pouts at him.

“Of course I can walk!” she shoots back. “You’re just going too fast.” He grunts in response, helmet facing forward again and continues his pace. She’s not sure if it’s the spice but his strides feel more rushed than usual. His shoulders are also still fully straight, she notices and something tugs in her chest as she tries getting a sense of what his body language is telling her. She’s only a step or two behind him, and her eyes wander to the floor in front of her, the words spilling out before she can stop herself. “..are you mad at me?”

She almost sounds like a child, remorseful and heavy with guilt and she already hates how it comes out. But what punches harder is his response. Or his lack of it. Because he simply keeps walking at the same pace, fully ignoring her. No grunt, no hum, not even a sigh. And for some reason, this makes her ache. She stumbles over her own feet again and almost instantly she can feel tears threatening to well under the skin of her cheeks. She wants to curse herself for getting emotional, but it has to be liquor making her moods swing so drastically, she tells herself. Not that this thought doesn’t stop her from speaking again.

“I’m fired aren’t I- ”

Before she can blink, she runs face-first into a wall of beskar as he stops abruptly. She can’t help but yelp as she clutches her now-throbbing nose and when she looks back up, he’s turning to face her again. He stares at her until the silence frays at her nerves, and just when she can feel her face burning up to her ears, she hears a soft exhale from his modulator.

“C’mon,” his voice is soft as his right arm slightly pokes out towards her. “I can hear you tripping around from up here.”

Her brows furrow ever so slightly. “Are you makin’ fun of me?” she asks.

“Does it sound like I am?”

Her eyes narrow this time. “Mayybe.” she coos. But she loops her arm into the crook of his elbow and is silently delighted when he tucks her against his side. She finds it much easier to match his walk now and she can’t help the jump in her pulse as she’s pressed closer to him. In fact, she has to bite her lip to stop the silly grin threatening to spread across her cheeks. They walk in comfortable silence for a while before her spinning brain comes up with another enquiry.

“Mando?”

“Hm?” His response is barely registered under his modulator.

“How’d you find me?”

For a moment, Din doesn’t answer. And it’s not for the lack of one either. He’s just not sure where to begin. Does he start when he first re-entered the Crest to find the kid safe and sound but with her nowhere in sight? Or when he went back outside in hopes that she was on the roof stargazing or fiddling with the ship. Or when he started speed-walking through the nearby alleys because now he really couldn’t find her and just before his panic could bubble over, a single sound just yards away made his heart stop before he jump-started into a full sprint for her.

“I heard you scream.” he eventually replies and it almost sounds like his teeth are pressed together under that helmet.

She smiles at that. My hero. She almost wants to swoon until he speaks up again.

“I’ve warned you about being alone Sen’ika,” His tone is still soft, but firmer this time. She flinches and tucks her face down from him, nodding once.

“I know, I- ” her head swirls at the pang of shame but she swallows the urge to say anything other than what was necessary here. “I’m sorry.”

Another pause of silence. She decides to focus on their footsteps instead. There was something about the synchronized crunch of gravel under their boots that just satisfied every single sense in her. And it isn’t until she looks up and gets a full glimpse of the night sky that she realizes the spice is still very much in her system, unnatural neon lights and shapes bouncing across the stars. She stares in drunken awe up at them for a little too long and when she sees the Crest finally back in eyesight, she practically deflates in relief.

“Hey,” Then, Mando gently slides his arm out of their loop, leather ghosting down the length of her arm until he cups his palm over her fisted hand. “What matters to me most is that you’re safe,” he says softly. His visor turns to her, and he slowly opens her hand to slide his own into her palm. His gloved thumb gently squeezes her knuckles in what she can only gather as reassurance. “Okay?” His tone is so warm, it’s almost tender.

It catches her so far off guard, she’s pretty sure she short-circuited and is only still breathing on emergency autopilot. Her cheeks flush up and her eyes are blown wide open in the same sweet doe-like expression he adores so much, that he can’t help but smile behind the safety of his helmet. She blinks and she almost resets, clearing her throat as she looks straight ahead. She’s still blushing as she smiles and nods once. “Okay.” she replies sweetly.

Even his gloves are impenetrable, thick and almost twice as large in size. But she can still feel a warmth radiating from the other side against her skin. Suddenly feeling brave, she shifts, slipping through his gloves and slowly linking their fingers together. Mando stiffens at first, until her nails sink into the shape of his knuckles, and he internally melts. Before he can process his own reaction, he squeezes back, his thumb gently stroking over her own.

She looks up again, grinning from ear to ear. Clouds are dancing in her vision, stars swelling and shrinking in size across the painted skies. She dares herself to glance at him from the corner of her eye. He’s looking straight ahead thankfully, only semi-lit under the glow of the moons, but his beskar has never been more radiant. The same colors in her eyes bounce off the high points of his armor, illuminating him in an almost ethereal glow. She can’t stop her eyes from wandering. He’s perfectly shaped from every angle. He stands tall and proud, and walks with an effortless swagger so few could replicate. His mere presence can shift the focus of an entire room. He’s daunting and striking and is the picture of discipline and strength. Yet he cradles her hand in his like she’s made of glass. She’s never seen anything past the chiseled cut of his helmet, yet he’s never looked more beautiful in her eyes right now. She knows she shouldn’t be looking at him the way she is right now; with stars in her eyes and the softest, most affectionate little smile spreading from cheek to flushed cheek.

“You’re so pretty~” she slurs out in the sweetest tone. From behind his beskar, Din’s heart jumps into his throat.

“You’re drunker than I thought.” He doesn’t skip a beat though, somehow keeping his tone flat and neutral.

“It’s still truee,” she shoots back, leaning against his side with a wide grin. “It’s always been true!”

He glances at her wordlessly and she smiles back at herself through his visor. He’s not sure what to say to that, if anything, he’s too flustered to think of a rebuttal. He’s never been called pretty by anyone, even as a joke. Eventually he clears his throat and looks away and she only grins wider. Did she just leave him speechless? She can’t help but try to read his body language for any hints.

BONK.

Unfortunately she’s so distracted by the dancing Mudhorn on his pauldron that she fully trips on the descending base of the Crest’s ramp. The only thing that stops her from falling on her face is Mando’s sudden grip on her elbow. His visor slowly turns to her again. And she knows he’s frowning this time. He yanks her back to her feet and they finally ascend to the deck. She sighs happily once she stumbles into the safety of the Crest.

As Mando closes and locks up the gangway behind them, a late thought suddenly strikes her. She turns to him with panicked eyes. “The kid!?”

“Shh-!” He quickly hushes her with a gloved pointer over her lips. She stares into her own flushed reflection as her voice echoes into the cockpit above. She’s hyper-aware of just how loud she’s being now that she’s no longer outside. Along with the scent of sunkissed leather directly under her nose. She doesn’t move until his finger slowly pivots to her right and when she follows his direction, she spots his hover pod, sealed up and safe and sound, just as she’d left him.

She sighs softly and her shoulders slump in relief. Mando leans in pointedly. “You’re lucky you were right.” he whispers into her hair. “He didn’t flinch when I got home.”

As goosebumps sprout up the back of her neck, he pulls away and crosses the room to the ladder. “I’m gonna lock us down. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow.” Just before he climbs, he turns back to her. “Bedtime, Sen’ika. Now.” It's a gentle, but final warning.

She nods wordlessly and he leaves her in the middle of the room, dizzy and flustered. Her ears are also ringing now that she’s swallowed in silence. Eventually, she slowly pads into her designated corner. Her hammock is tucked away in the pocket of an empty storage closet, a thin makeshift curtain the only barrier between her ‘room’ and the deck. The walls hum around her and she realizes the heat has been turned back on, thankfully. She’s too drunk to fully wash up but she’s got enough energy to rip off her tight, itchy outdoor clothes and boots. She grabs the closest pajama-adjacent shirt and lounge pants she can find and wriggles them on.

She opens her hammock and finally allows herself to lay down, eyes turned to the dim ceiling.

How would it have felt if she’d laid her head on his shoulder?

No.

Would he have pushed her away? Or allowed her to stay?

Her brain’s focus shifts to the vision of his arms. His hands. His sweet, soothing voice.

I mean, he let her hold his hand, didn’t he? And hug him. Surely she could’ve gotten away with a little shoulder lean.

Gods, no.

Is he soft under all that armor? Does he run hot or does the beskar keep him cool? Is there a human face behind that m-

No! Stop it!

She physically shakes her head to break her train of thought. This was dangerous terrain. Just because you’re drunk doesn't mean you should be humoring these silly curiosities of yours! Her eyes squeeze shut and as she tries to take a deep breath, she realizes her heart is racing.

This is ridiculous.

Okay, so what if she has a crush on her employer?? It's not exactly a new phenomenon, and it certainly wasn’t the first boss she’d ever fallen for either. What was insane was what she liked about him. Because for the very first time, she couldn’t put a face to it. Instead, it was in his voice. His strength. His unwavering faith in his Creed, in the Way. He was loyal, honorable and resourceful. Stubborn as a Bantha, but quick to strike like lightning. He was also kind and selfless. He had the patience of a saint for the Child and innocent locals and despite his daunting appearance, he never hesitated to help out others, even if it meant pushing back on their schedule. There were actually various reasons why she liked him, and she couldn’t even put a name to a single one of them.

Not that any of it mattered. Because not a word of this would be uttered to anyone, let alone to him. Not to mention that this was a temporary gig, it’s not like she’d be around much longer anyway. The last thing she needed was to complicate this job for herself with her unprofessional schoolgirl behavior.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she shifts her focus to the only other thing clouding her judgment. Her head is still spinning but the heaviness behind her eyes makes it easy to keep them closed. She also focuses on slowing her breath, allowing her limbs to fully sink into the cradle of her hammock. A few minutes melt away and just as she finally feels herself beginning to drift..

“Pin her down.”

She physically jolts awake as the image of her ex-attackers kneeling over her flashes behind her eyelids. Her heart jumps to her throat as that same awful wave of nausea courses through her. Okay so clearly she wasn’t over what happened just yet. Her stomach turns again though this time for far more terrifying reasons.

She leaps to her feet before she can stop herself. She’s not sure what she wants just yet, but she knows whose presence she needs. She whips her curtain aside and almost jumps out of her skin when she sees Mando already standing at her doorway. “G-Geez- !”

He doesn’t flinch. He’s also holding a metal cup that he offers to her when she looks at it. “Drink this before you fall asleep,” he simply says.

“What is it?” she accepts it anyway, peering inside before taking a test sip.

“Just water,” Mando pauses and inwardly smiles when she gags at the aftertaste. “and powdered electrolytes to cut your hangover time in half. You'll thank yourself in the morning for it.”

“Mm, awesome!” she flashes him a pained grin and he almost chuckles. She’s so adorable like this, it’s almost painful.

He lingers for just a moment longer before he nods once. “Sweet dreams.” He starts walking away until a single hand on his arm makes him stop in his tracks. His helmet shoots towards her expectantly and when her eyes meet his visor, her voice suddenly clamps in her throat. She catches the almost-panicked expression in her reflection’s eyes and looks away. She almost starts apologizing, but he turns towards her instead, closing the distance between them. “What’s wrong?”

“I- ” Her face feels warm again despite her growing anxiety and she feels betrayed by the flush burning across her cheeks. She huffs and looks down at her feet. “Never mind, it’s n- ”

“Sen’ika,” He doesn’t even have to say anything else. His helmet ducks to try and catch her eye. “Tell me.” His voice is so gentle and reassuring that she has no choice but to succumb.

Fuck it, right?

“C… can I stay with you tonight?” Her voice is so soft, it’s almost a whisper. Her hand gently squeezes his sleeve, teeth catching on her bottom lip. “I don’t.. wanna be alone tonight..” To be fair, it wasn’t a lie.

It’s so quiet, you could hear a pin drop from the cockpit. In fact, she can’t even hear him breathing. Fuck. Did she fuck it up? Is he weirded out? Is she fired? Again?? Fuck! Take it back!

She has no idea just how startled Din really is though. She can’t hear his heart doing somersaults in his chest or how almost-terrified he looks behind the visor. But then she looks up at him with those frantic angel eyes for just a moment, he knows that despite whatever’s asked of him, how could he ever deny his little bird?

She opens her mouth and he perks up. ”Okay,” he says. It’s just as soft as she asked and almost nervous. He nods to follow up and clears his throat. “Of course.”

Her eyes round and she blinks back at him, almost dumbfounded. Holy shit, it worked? “Yeah?”

He nods again. “Yeah,” he replies lightly before his helmet jerks in the direction of his bunk. “C’mon.”

He crosses the room to his bunk to open the hatch. The kid’s pod is hovering peacefully right by the door where either of them can reach him if they have to. She follows him wordlessly where he steps aside for her. “Pick your spot, I’ll be right back.” he tells her.

Ironically, she was no stranger to his bed. He’d offered his room to her plenty of times before she carved out a spare corner for herself to give him his privacy back. She never imagined she’d actually be sharing it with him for once. She downed the last of her water and put the cup aside before she stepped into the bunk. She decided to slide into the corner facing the wall to give him as much space as possible.

Mando’s only gone for a few minutes, but in her panicked, overthinking state, it feels like ages. She finds comfort in his sheets. After getting so used to this space then moving out for a stretch of time, they felt familiar and almost welcoming to come back to. She acknowledged this was mostly due to their scent, the warm, woodsy musk that she recognized as what was likely the scent of his skin. She nuzzles into his blankets, inhales and sighs into them.

Then his boot steps echo back into earshot. She rolls onto her back and props up on her elbows, watching his shadowed figure fiddling outside. After a particularly heavy sigh, he clicks a light off and steps inside. For a second, he almost looks like a shadow sliding along the walls. It’s then she realizes he’s not wearing his beskar. He's stripped down to his full flight suit, boots, gloves and of course, his trademark helmet. There’s still not a shred of skin in sight but this still gives her a full view of his own figure. She’s dumbstruck at just how broad he truly is even without his armor. Then, it dawns on her that he took off his beskar to make room for her and something flutters under her ribs.

He looks at her and she scoots into the wall. His gloves clench and unclench in a subtle twitch as he slides into the space next to her. It’s a tight squeeze, laying shoulder to shoulder, but it’s a fit that would’ve probably been unbearable with the few inches of additional armor on. She crosses her arms, making herself smaller and fitting around the bigger gaps between them.

They both sigh and for a moment, it’s quiet. Her heart’s weirdly racing and she’s not sure what to say. Or if anything should be said at all. He shifts next to her, and her first thought is that he’s warm, even under his dense flight suit. He sighs again, and it sounds spent. She wonders if his eyes are closed behind that helmet.

Her head cranes towards him. “Long day?”

A short huff cracks through his modulator. “Something like that.” He’s smiling behind that response.

She grins back and looks up at the dark ceiling again. Colors are still swirling in her eyes if she squints long enough, but they're fading, she notes. There’s another short pause before this time, he breaks. “If.. this is too uncomf- ”

“It’s not.” she cuts in sweetly, still smiling to herself. Despite the angle, he’s warm and sturdy and she’d never felt more secure sandwiched between a man and his metal walls. She gently nudges his side. “Thanks again for saving my ass.”

He huffs again and nudges back. “Any time.” he replies.

She giggles and pauses, words pricking at the tip of her tongue. She’s feeling brave again and in her growing drowsiness, she decides to throw caution to the wind one last time. “Mando?”

“Mm?”

She inhales and shifts, her chin gently pressing into his shoulder. “Can I be honest about somethin’?”

His helmet shifts to her expectantly before pointing his chin at her. A silent approval to keep going. “I’ve been surrounded by armies my whole life. For as long as I can remember. Rebels, mercenaries, outcasts. You name it, I’ve met ‘em,” She peers up at his visor, ensuring she’s making eye contact. “And I’ve never felt safer with any of ‘em than I have with you.”

He doesn’t so much as twitch, but she swears she hears his breath seize under the helmet. Once again, his chest blooms and swells and something warm settles in his stomach. He smiles inwardly and before he can stop himself, a gloved hand comes up between them, leather knuckles stroking along the shape of her cheek.

She leans into it for just a moment and then she breaks through, ducking under his arm to curl herself up into his side. She rolls onto her own side, an arm draped across his chest and her head resting below his collarbone. Surprisingly, he not only allows her position shift, but he wraps his arm around her and even pulls her into him. “I made a promise to you,” he says. His hand settles between her shoulder blades, his thumb tracing a single circle into her back. “As long as you’re with me, you’ll be safe from harm. I intend to keep that promise as long as it takes.”

With her ear pressed into his shirt, she realizes that his pulse is racing against her. He also smells nice, like a combination of gunsmoke, the outdoors and the linen of his sheets. It’s woodsy and crisp, but it’s warm and homey and so intoxicatingly comforting.

She wants to say it.

She could get away with saying it if she played it right. But she's too drowsy and delirious and exhausted to keep thinking. He’s draping his blankets over them, tucking her into the ultimate heat source and she wants to soak in it. There’s a cool press against her hair and she realizes that his helmet is leaning into her. “Is this okay?” he whispers to her.

She nuzzles into his shirt and sighs contentedly. Sleep is pulling her into its depths faster than she anticipated but she has enough energy to sweetly mumble, “No. It’s better than okay.”

He exhales through his nose from above her and his hand gently rubs her back. “Get some sleep, mesh’la,” he purrs. “I’m here.”

She doesn’t know what that one means. She makes a mental note to ask tomorrow. Right now, she picks her head up to press a single kiss into his collarbone before plopping back down. “G’night Mando..”

His heart rate picks up again. He pulls her up closer so her head is nestled into the crook of his neck. This allows her to wrap both arms around him. His helmet tilts down and she swears she feels his eyes on her. “Good night.”

She closes her eyes and smiles, allowing herself to sink into his warmth and scent for the first and probably only time. Her words were never truer than in this moment; never had she felt safer than in this tiny bunk, wrapped in her Mandalorian’s blankets. She falls asleep shortly afterwards, her breaths evening out and her heartbeat slowing into a tranquil pace. This time, her mind takes her to more pleasant dreamscapes.

She can’t detect Mando at all, listening to her pulse as she sleeps. She doesn’t feel how long it takes before his gloves slip off in the dim lights and two arms fully wrap around her. She can’t sense his warm palms holding her against him, one across her back, the other coming up to smooth and brush her hair. And she’s long gone by the time he makes the conscious choice to give his helmet a break, telling himself he needs the air and it’ll be back on long before she wakes up tomorrow.

Somewhere in her subconscious, thoughts flash across her eyes; images of the Child, his laugh, his bright brown eyes, and his infectious joy. Repeated images of Mando, his visor, his cape, his arms. His sheets. His voice. His leathered touch. Their hands linked under a coat of stars.

She swears she feels a pair of ghostly lips brush against her forehead, if only for a moment, but she never quite figures out where they came from. Not that it matters. Because for now, this is enough. Even if it is only temporary.

* * *

a/n: stream season 3 only on disney + <3

#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x y/n #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x female reader #mando x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando x female reader

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flutterrker · 3 months ago

Text

Wield pet pt1

(f) Shark hybrid reader x Owner Izuku midoriya

Not my art

Warning: mentions abuse, Trafficking, fitting ring, Sexual assault, injury, Euphonizing, death, Arters note: my English is bad but I will try to fix it

It was a Nics day Todoroki and Deku were out patrolling the streets they hadn't been wakening long since they had just come from a meeting not too long ago but what was disgust in that meeting had Deku deep in thought about the report Bakugo had about the hybrid fitting ring he Bustad not too long ago and how most of those hybrids were going to be put down because they were too aggressive to keep and that some people involve in the incident had escaped Deku only snapped out of it when he felt a hand on his soldier looking over at Todoroki he sow his worried expression Deku smile at him to reassure him that he was ok but he know it wouldn't hold him for long he needed a distraction "hey I think we can go take our lance Break now oh and we are pretty close to this cafe I like "he says to Todoroki how just nods and follow him to the cafe

They get there Eventually and get Seated at a boof in the far corner as they settle in Todoroki looks at Deku and starts to speak "Is something bordering you, you look upset" Deku shakes his head no but before he can get a word out his phone rings picking up the phone he sow a number he didn't rcognize and pressing the Answer button and pots it Against his ear to listens "good morning am I Speaking to Mister Midoriya" a sweet voice asked him he Post for a moment before Answering " yes this is hem" " Great I'm calling from the hybrid shelter about you applying to Adopt a hybrid and I'm proud to Anons that it has been Approved " " oh ok when can I come and take a look " he asked in an Excitedly " later today if you want but if not we ca- " he cut her off before she could finish speaking "No! Today is good I'll come over later today " cringed at how Awkward he was being "Well that great to hear Such enthusiasm from a Potential hybrid owner then we will see you later today Mister Midoriya " "Yes Thank you so much see You guys soon," he says Practically jumping out of his seat " see you soon " Izuku ends the call unaware that Todoroki was watching him closely " exciting news I assume, " Todoroki asked Curiosity getting the better of him Izuku nods " I Applied to a hybrid Adoption Agency to see if I can get a hybrid " "hmm why not just get a normal animal like a cat or dog I hear hybrid are High maintenance pets and need a lot of attention,"

Izuku nods "Well To be honest, I never wanted to own a hybrid but I've been thinking about it for a well now, and after today's meeting it steels it for me I never even realized how badly they were treated by humans after the hybrid fitting ring was taken out all of those Innocent hybrids that were caught and sent to the hybrid shelter are all Scheduled to be euthanized, " " I heard about that on the news too it's terrible they are Punishing the hybrid that only follows their master's orders " Izuku nods and looks Todoroki in the eyes "Yeah they say the reason is that they are so aggressive that they can't even get close enough to train them "It was silent for a moment before Izuku spoke again "So I've decided that even if it is just one that can be rescued from the system it's at least one step into the right direction and it might inspire other people to adopt a hybrid as well and bring Awareness to the dangers of hybrid trafficking, " Izuku says with a small smile

Todoroki smiled and was reminded of how kind Izuku was but Izuku has always been a kind person and it made Todoroki proud to call Izuku his friend no matter what happened to him, he had always seen the best in all people no matter what "If you don't mind me asking could I come with you I would like to see the tip of hybrid you might Choose" Todoroki asked Izuku smiled back and nodded " yeah! I don't mind and we can Catch up on things" " I would like that " he said smelling "but I think if I do find a hybrid and adopt I'm going to take some time off to spend with it you know like bonding or getting to know One another but for now let's eat up and get back to work the faster we get this done the faster we can go yeah " Izuku says as Todoroki nods Agree

One patrol and a few Pity crimes take down later and Izuku and Todoroki are at the front gate of the hybrid Adoption center they park the car near the building and are Greeted at the glass doors by a woman wearing a uniform " Greetings Mister Midoriya and Mister Todoroki I have been waiting for you my name is Mary willow I'm the Director of the pup cup Adoption and rescue facilities hope you didn't have any trouble getting her " " No not atoll Was it you that I was speaking to earlier " Izuku asked she nods " yes it was and I must say it is a pleaser to meet you bout and we have a lot of new friends that would love to meet you so let's get this meet and greet started sheal we follow me please " she said smiles and Tuning around Leading them inside and in the directions of the kennels

They walked around looking at all the hybrids from bunnies to Birds but noticed that most if not all of the hybrids were pups and not Fully grown hybrids like Izuku hoped the Director noticed that nothing whose Catches he's eye so she Derek's theme to the Exotic hybrids Wing of the building there they see tigers, lepers, fish and some reptiles that are Unfortunately all still pups that is until they get to the last kennel" well that's everyone if you need a Minet to decide I can live and come back or you can just find me at the front desk " "what about that last one " he asked walking towards it "oh that one " she side looking inside he sow a shark hybrid that is fully grown has a muzzle on and looks to be in bad shape with all the Scratches and bruises they can see it looked like you had gotten into a bad faith

As Izuku got close he heard the Director speak " And that is y/n she is not up for adoption " She said Izuku frowned in confusion and looked back at her but before he could ask why she specked first "That one is from the fitting ring and is Scheduled to be euthanized "he stopped and looked at her for a minute and started speaking "When will they euthanize her" "Tomorrow Though it is a real shame to see because it is not her fault she's like this it is the people's fault for putting her through that trauma and Yet the hybrids pay the price " she said looking at the hybrid in the cage with a sad expression "we'll if that is all I will leave you to it to decide what lucky hybrids get to leave and live with the number one hero in Japan com find me at the front desk when you're ready but in the meantime feel free to look around I'm sure you'll find something" she says before turning around and walking away living Izuku and Todoroki allows to Stew in their Foughts

"Midoriya what hybrid are you going to take " Todoroki asked Izuku shrugged his soldier still looking at you in the kennels Trying to get your attention but nothing was working not kissing noises not calling your Name and not Throwing small rocks near you. you just sit there looking at the floor that is until Todoroki opens his water bottle the sound made you move your eyes for just a split second, but Izuku noticed it " hey, are you thirsty you want some water? " he asked and saw you were slowly looking in his Derkson he noticed the other side of your face had a Giant bruise he also noted how every time you moved you may a Pained experience it was subtle but it was there and he noticed it as he takes out his water bottle and sprinkles some water out on the floor to show you it was water it took you a Minet to start moving slowly standing up and walk as Beast as you could to them pouting more pressure on one Leg to avoid pouting pressure on your rite foot when you got closer to them you slid down the Bars to sat on your legs wincing in pain slowly you stuck your hand hesitantly throw the Bars of the cage to Reach for the bottle Izuku was holding for you, you look so wired it was like you were expecting him to do something but sow the relief in your eyes when he handing it to you slowly to not spook you took it and broth it up to your mouth to drink but intend of poring it into your mouth you stuck out your tongue

lapping at the water with your long tongue drinking it quickly Izuku watch you for a while seeing how matted your hair was and how dirty and tired you look at least you weren't skin and bones but Stull to skinny for his liking

Izuku shat there for a mined or two before stood up and started walking to the reception disk Todoroki followed Behind him Quietly wanting to see what happened next as they approached the waiting room Izuku saw the Director working at the front desk walking up to her Izuku said in an emotionless town

" I want the shark hybrid " " No" " please I'll pay extra " " I said no Mister Midoriya " "Why -" " Because Mister Midoriya she is not for sale " " so instead of letting her find a proper family to adopt her you would rather let them put her down " he said in Ange " No that is not the reason Mister midor- " " then what is " she sighs and says in a calm voice" Mister Midoriya I don't want to put her down but she is too dangerous to freely walk around and the people from the hybrid fitting ring are still out there looking for the hybrid they trained and she is the last one that needs to be euthanized I don't want to do this to her either but I don't want her to Software Anymore" he was quiet for a minute thinking of a way to convince her he could not only keep you safe and have the Schell to train you "What are you saying that the number one hero can't protect one single hybrid " Todoroki Piped up "No that's not what I meant -" "Please I just can sit here and do nothing I'm a hero and I believe I can provide a safe investment for her to live in Maybe if she doesn't feel so frightened she'll be easier to train and less Aggravated and aggressive" she looked at the two men utterly defeated before sighing and handing him the adoption paperwork " I'm not doing this for you I'm doing it for her she deserves to be happy too and to Experience a loving family as well," she said in a sad tone of voice " go take a seat Mister Midoriya and when you're done I'll Brief you on her history " Midoriya nods feeling tears in his eyes but Wipes them away

Once the paperwork is done he walks back up to her and hands her the paperwork she Pages true it and nods " Mister Todoroki please Stay here in the waiting room well I brief Mister Midoriya on his new partner " Todoroki nods and takes a set and pools out his phone to pass the time" This way Mister Midoriya " he followed her to a small room with a Disc and two chairs" please take a seat Mister Midoriya " he sits in the chair across from her she hands him a folder White your name on it he opens the document in it he reeds

Name: Y/n

Tip of hybrid: hybrid shark Mix between a thresher shark and bull shark

Temperament: (bad) Aggressive to humans, hybrids, and animals

Class: Aquatic

How common the species is : Rare

Age: estimated to be 20

Sex: female

Facilities: pup cup Adoption and rescue facilities

Date of arrival: 2027/6/18

Previous owner: unknown

Note from therapist: we sent in a hybrid Specialist to see if we could Sedate her to Administer First-aid to her wounds but were Unsuccessful as she refused to calm down enough to give it to her, I concluded that she is deathly afraid of being pinned down

Injury report: due to her having a muzzle on she has Resorted to slamming her whole body into the staff to pin them between her and the walls she Injured a few staff members and broke several staff members' ribs and arms by slamming them as hard as possible can against the wall

Note from hybrid Specialist: we tried to feed her to see if she would let us get close to At least check her eyes for Enya's signs of blindness safe to say she is not going blind we Took off the muzzle To give her some food but were shocked at the Violent Reaction she had to human snarling and hissing but not outright attacking the is until a staff member got to close for her liking

Injury report: when the muzzle was Removed, we gave her a bowl of fruits she Ignores it and kept sleeping until we went to Replace the bowl, and she Launched forward and bit down onto Mister Kenneth's hand and Thor his point finger middle finger and fume off

he was rushed to the hospital to receive medical attention they Informed us they could not re-attached the fingers he reserved 20 Stitches

Police report: she was Found in a Flooded basement and Changed to the floor with at least 9 hybrids and 3 human corpses in the water she was Sedated and pulled out but a few minutes later woke up and started attacking the offices we Tried to subdue her but in the struggle she killing 2 men in the process we opened five 5 rounds 3 Connected 6 more were fired before Red Riot and Dynamite Showed up and Pin her down muzzled her and Administering a larger Those of tranquilizer she was then Transportation to the Nearest hybrid VT

Medical report: since of Physical and Sexual abuse

Bullets were removed from the Shoulder, stomach, and thigh she also had three broken ribs one broken leg torn muscles, a Fraction ligament, a nasty infection in her Gills located on either side of her chest under the arms what seems to be lashes made from Being whipped by Metal Wire as well as Multiple cuts made by a Knife a yeast infection swelling and redness to her Genetics an upsetting amount of bruising on her arms, legs, stomach, chest, neck, and back

Note for doctors:we tried to give her medical attention but came no fader than treating her scraps and stitching up her cuts

Note: is Scheduled to be euthanized on 29 August 2027

Izuku closed the Document and was quiet for a minute Thinking how someone could do all those things to someone and not care how you're hurting them " Do you still want her it ok to back out it is a big commitment to own a hybrid " Izuku was drag back to Reality when she asks him that question "Yes I still want her" She smiled and nodded "Well if you have your heart set on her I'll need you to sign These documents here, here, and here and I'll come in a year to do a wellness check "she said smiles Izuku nodded and read the Terms of conditions before sighing she smiled a little bit more knowing you'll go to a good home "and we are done here is your free Complimentary harness and Leash and I'm obligated to tell you when walking her in public she has too keep her muzzle on atoll time except on private property now let's see if we can get her out of her kennel " " what before we do that I have a Question if she is too Aggressive to be near people how do I get the Medicine she needs " she stopped and smiled at him " I'll make an appointment with a friend of mine to come to you he Specializes in hybrid medicine and marine life as well he can take a look at her Broken bones for you too"

They walked out of the room and back in the direction of where your kennels were when they got there, they saw you sleeping from the gate on the floor the Director handed Izuku a blanket to wrap you in she slowly moved to the door, and unlocked it so Izuku could enter

As he Crouched down to pick you up you French from his soft Touch, he stopped for a moment waiting for you to relax you Stirred a bit before going back to sleep Izuku Gentle picked you up and wrapped the blanket around you snuggle to keep you from Kicking and keep you warm

Izuku Adjusted his arms to hold you more Comfortably before walking back out of the kennel with you now sleeping comfortably in his arms head on his soldier hands under your knees and the small of your back Izuku felt confident enough to move with you in his arms without waking you up

Walk to the waiting room Izuku Spotted Todoroki and walked up to him holding you Close to his chest Todoroki smiled at him and stood up to greet him and see what hybrid he got "You got the hybrid you want " he asked Izuku nodded "I just couldn't leave her here " " oh that reminds me could you drive me home my hands are Kind of full at the moment "Izuku asked with a Bright smile and a Smole blush on his cheeks "Why don't you just put her down " he asked confused why Izuku Couldn't drive "I'm Scared of waking her up "he nodded "ok I'll drive "

" om my God I don't even realize how long we've been in there for, "Izuku says Todoroki nods "It did take a while," Todoroki said well opening the door for Izuku to get in Carefully to not wake you up as he sits in the passenger seat Todoroki Buckles his seat belt for him as izuku waiting for Todoroki to come around the car to the driver's seat Izuku looks down at you and thinks to himself (I don't have a room ready for her I'm going to have to leave her alone for an Hour or two so I can find a nesting bed for her and close oh God look at that hear it's all matted I'll have to as my mom for some Atvi's abbot hear and get you medicine I'll need to study up on the species if I want to properly take care of her ) " Midoriya you babbling again "Izuku stopped and looked at him and then out the window (when did we start diving and when did we get so close to my house) ' Izuku thinks to Himself sighs in frustration when they pool into the driveway Todoroki got out first to open the door for Izuku

Finally getting to the door, Izuku held you in one hand and pulled out his house. Keys opened the door and walked in to the house he went right to the guest room and pulled out a futon for you to sleep in for now until he could get a proper nesting bed for you

He Laid you down Gently and covered you with the blanket "Your safe now sleep tight we have a long day tomorrow " said Izuku before walking out and meeting with Todoroki taking him for coming over and helping bring you back they said their goodbye close the door as the lock Kicked Izuku slid down the door and sighs in Exhaustion he just sat there for a minute or two before getting up sitting at a disk and doing some research on shark hybrid apparently when they side you were rare they meant rare as in there were only five ever record in Japan in the US there where ten in existents but udder then that there wasn't much to go off of (guess I'm staying up late tonight)

12:51 pm

Slowly he began to drift off to sleep straggling to continue reading the article he found bobbing his head to Stay upright his eyes closed for what felt like a minute but was more like an Hour before he was out like a Light, he slept on his desk that night face planned in a book snoring Lightly

Tomorrow will be better

#izuku midoriya #hybrid reader #shouto todoroki #y/n #mha fanart #mha #shark hybrid #izuku midoriya x reader

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paperweight91 · 3 months ago

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Promise Not to Promise Anymore

Pairing: Andy Barber x reader

Warnings: Drinking, mentions of cheating, angst

Word count: 2448

A/N: This is an idea that I’ve been struggling with for a while, I’m so glad I’ve finally been able to get the words to sort themselves out. Special thank you to @krirebr for helping me so much with the process. Without you literally nothing would ever be posted here 😂. (Yes I am aware that I barely post…I’m working on it!) Any feedback that you could leave would be really appreciated. ❤️

The day had been uneventful, boring, normal. But something about the day had your skin crawling. You weren’t sure what had set you off, and yet here you were pacing. Something you only did when you were anxious.

Your phone chirped with another notification, probably one of your socials. Your anxiety had you reaching for it immediately. Seeing the name of your ex pop up on the screen had your stomach dropping immediately. Neither of you had reached out in months. The man who had blustered out of your life as fast as he had blustered in was texting you.

You threw the phone onto the couch without reading the notification. Sure you could find out immediately what he wanted if you actually read the text, instead you screamed into the throw pillow. Your mind began to run with all of the possibilities of why this man would choose now to text you. Did he want money? Was he dying? Was he texting just to let you know how little you meant to him?

The last one, it was definitely the last one.

You stood from the couch and glared at the small black rectangle that had ruined your otherwise boring day. Your phone chirped again, and you physically recoiled from the sound. Deciding a drink would help with whatever it was your ex wanted you dazedly walked to the kitchen. When you opened the fridge, your gaze immediately found the bottle of wine you had bought on a whim on the weekend. Something the lady at the grocery store had recommended since you looked so lost in the wine section. Grabbing the bottle and bypassing a glass was the best way to handle this conversation you decided.

You sat on the couch, taking a long pull from the neck of the bottle before reaching for your phone. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves you unlocked the phone screen and tapped on the messages icon. There was his name in big bold letters: Andy. You hesitated as your finger hovered over the message, you could see his second message clearly Are you too busy to talk now? Maybe you could just not read it. Or read them and never respond. Or read them and respond later.

You hated every single one of those options, because you knew as soon as you opened these messages you’d be responding immediately. You took another long pull from your bottle, and placed the phone back down beside you. You needed your mind to stop. The thinking, the over-thinking, it was too much. You flipped on the TV to distract yourself and curled up like a cat. Your phone chirped again from under a throw pillow, and you pointedly ignored it.

You weren’t ready to deal with Andy. You had thought when he ended things that you would never hear from him again. Devastated. That was the only word you could use to describe how you felt after he left. You still didn’t even understand why he had ended things, only that he clearly hadn’t felt as strongly as you did about him.

There was another chirp that had you sighing and grabbing for your phone. You had to deal with it, or he wouldn’t stop. That was Andy. You pulled up the messages anticipating at least a double text, but completely unprepared for all the messages he had sent you,

I know this is out of the blue, but I need to speak to you.

Are you too busy to talk now?

Please Honey, I need to talk to you.

It’s important.

Honey…

Of course, the man could double text you, but would refuse to supply what he actually wanted to speak to you about. You typed out several potential responses before deciding on something polite but to the point.

Andy, I can talk. What’s going on?

You didn’t have to wait long for Andy’s equally to the point response.

Can I call you?

You stared at the message for a moment. You knew you couldn’t hear his voice, it would take you right back to where you were. All those months ago when he broke your heart. All the hurt, and the anger, it would be right there.

As you debated what to say, your phone began to ring. The man had absolutely no patience. You stared at his name, and without thinking answered the phone.

“Hello…” You sat and waited for him to say his peace, how bad could it be.

”Honey, I’m sorry.” You shuddered as Andy’s voice came through the phone. You forgot how his deep timbre had always made you feel comforted, and safe, and warm. “How are you doing? I know I shouldn’t be…I don’t…Are you okay?”

You hesitated before you answered. Months ago you would’ve known exactly what to say to Andy to make him feel better. Now it felt like you were talking to a stranger. “I’m fine Andy. Why are you hammer messaging me?”

Andy chuckled lightly, and you smiled at the lilting notes. “You haven’t changed.” Your eye twitched at that comment. “I just, I needed to hear your voice, Honey.”

”So you messaged me repeatedly?” You could hear the annoyance in your tone, which meant that Andy could hear it ten times louder.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done this…” Andy trailed off and sighed. You huffed and pulled the phone away from your ear for a moment so you could murmur your annoyance to yourself.

”Just say it Andy, why did you reach out? Why are we on the phone?” You pulled at the threads on the throw pillow under your arm.

“I miss you.”

You felt the air leave your lungs. You couldn’t have heard him right. He missed you? No, no he was dying, or broke, or literally anything else.

“You-what?” You spluttered out the only thought that came to your mind.

Andy chuckled nervously, “I miss you. I miss your smile, and your laugh. I miss the way your forehead pinches when you’re focused. I miss the way you would take care of me. The moment I ended things? I knew I had made a mistake, and so I told myself that it was kinder to you, to just move on.”

You sat there in silence, shocked at his sudden declarations. “Why, why did you end things? What happened? Andy, I loved you so much, and then out of nowhere you just up and ended things.”

You heard Andy sigh on the other end of the phone. You could picture him scrubbing his hand down his face and scratching at the beard hairs on his chin. His nervous habit. “I got scared, I think.” He chuckled again, “I know it’s not a good excuse…”

You rolled your eyes. “That’s a terrible excuse Andy. What scared you? That I loved you? That I wanted to be a part of your life? Please tell me, what exactly scared you so badly that you ended the best relationship I’ve ever had?”

You slapped a hand over your mouth. You hadn’t meant to let all of that out.

There was a long drawn out silence. “I think it was how strongly I felt about you. I was…scared of what that meant. Before I met you I thought I knew what love was. I was sure I had felt it. But once that feeling truly hit me? I couldn’t actually function.” Andy sighed again, “This isn’t coming out right.”

You took another long pull off of your bottle of wine. You let Andy’s words roll over in your mind. Could he actually be telling the truth? His love for you was so strong that he got scared. It just didn’t seem right, there was something else, there had to be.

“So what you’re saying is, our love was too much for you?” Your tone rang with annoyance and a little bit of desperation. You remembered any time you had tried to get something out of Andy that he didn’t want to tell you, how carefully you’d have to tread, otherwise he would shut down. As much as you wanted to tell him off, end the call and block his number forever. There was still a part of you that needed to know the real reason, so before Andy could respond you continued. “Andy, as much as I love this game of cat and mouse we’re playing, where it’s like pulling teeth to get information out of you,” You heard him softly chuckle on the other end of the line, “I just need the truth, maybe it will hurt me, maybe it won’t but I need it.”

There was a long silence on the line. Although it made you nervous and want to say something to fill it, you sat and sipped on your slowly warming wine while you waited for his response. Your bluntness would have one of two effects: either he would fold and tell you what you wanted, no needed to know, or he would shut down and it would be months, if ever, before you heard from him again.

His heavy sigh preceded his response, “You’re right, and wrong.” He paused as if he was gathering his thoughts. “It is true that the feeling of love between us scared me, but it’s also that it scared me so much that…”

”That what?” You knew what he was going to say, felt it deep within your soul. Your heart was about to be broken by Andy Barber once again, and what was worse, you had practically asked him to do it this time.

”I slept with someone else. It only happened once, but it was before I ended things.”

“I see.” It was all you could get out. You could feel the twisting in your chest again, the anger burning behind your eyes, the tears welling and choking you with their strength.

”I’m so sorry Honey. As soon as it was over I knew I had fucked up. But I also knew if that I couldn’t be with you still, it wasn’t fair to you.” You could hear the pleading in his voice, and it only made the anger burn stronger. Like his words had lit a match and poured kerosene over top.

“So you called me now, to…what? Make yourself feel better?” Your breathing was hard, almost panting in your anger.

”I don’t know why I’m calling. I just know that I’ve regretted that decision ever since. I miss what you brought to my life: the pure joy, the love I could feel down to my core.” Andy’s voice was strained. It was only then that you realized he was crying.

”Are you drunk Andy?” It was the only time you had ever seen him cry, when he had one too many with the boys after work.

”No, I swear. I promise Honey, I haven’t had a drink tonight.”

You took another sip of wine. Contemplating the truth in Andy’s words, the burn of his betrayal. This was just too much.

“Well I’m glad you’ve finally told me the truth Andy. Even if it is months later.” You hugged your throw pillow to your chest as you prepared yourself to say the words that you knew would hurt him as much as they would hurt you. “I can’t forgive you, for any of it. Please, just leave me alone.”

Before you could second guess your decision, you hung up the phone. You stared blankly at the TV screen, not even remembering what you had put on in the first place. What shook you from your reverie was a dull thud from your door. Like someone had just planted their forehead against it.

You stood and quickly crossed the room to check what the noise was. It was only once your hand was on the handle you knew: Andy. You unlocked the door, and twisted the handle slowly, knowing the man who had destroyed you not once, but twice was standing on the other side.

When your eyes connected with his, you could feel all of the love, joy and affection come flooding back. It took everything within you to not jump into his arms and sob until you had nothing left. Instead you gripped the doorframe like it was the only thing holding you up.

”Honey…” Andy’s voice was just above a whisper, so quiet that you weren’t even sure you heard it. His hands reached out and thumbed at the tears quietly streaming down your face. “Oh Honey, I’m so sorry.”

With that he pulled you against his chest. You could smell the high end cologne he wore to work, and the underlying scent of pure Andy. The warmth of his chest and his arms wrapping around your back had you losing all control. You sobbed with abandon into his neck, no words leaving your lips. Andy scooped you up and walked you both into your apartment. Using his foot to shut the door behind him.

He sat down on your couch, with you tucked against his chest and began murmuring quietly to you. You couldn’t make out most of it, but did catch the odd word. “Shh Honey.” “I know, I’m so sorry.” “Just let it out, okay?”

When you finally felt like you could cry no more, you pulled your face from Andy’s neck. You could feel how swollen your eyes were, in fact your whole face felt puffy. “I still don’t forgive you.”

Andy let out a full belly laugh at your meekly spoken words. To which you glared at him and crossed your arms across your chest.

”Okay, okay.” He wheezed in a breath, “I’m sorry Honey. Please just give me a chance to make it up to you. Even if that means I don’t get to feel your love again, let me just try to make this right.”

You reached out and stroked his cheek. Feeling his soft skin contrast with the roughness of his beard. You could see the dark circles under his eyes, see the grayness of his skin. “I need time Andy.”

He sighed, and let his eyes flutter shut. “Of course Honey, whatever you need.”

You reluctantly stood from his embrace, “Please leave Andy, I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

He nodded solemnly. Andy stood, he moved to hug you, but you took a few steps out of his reach. He nodded again before heading for the door.

”Honey?” His back was still to you.

”Yeah?”

”I still love you, more than anything. And I promise to do everything I can to show you that.”

”Andy, maybe we should both promise not to promise anymore.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 @krirebr @rebeccapineapple @precious1610 @bval-1 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @thezombieprostitute

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #chris evans #defending jacob #promise not to promise anymore

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kafus · 11 months ago

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why 100%ing the pokeathlon in HGSS is one of the longest challenges in all of pokemon

ok so the pokeathlon right. the fun minigame collection in HGSS that is sort of but not really a replacement for sinnoh contests. one of the achievements you have to get to upgrade the HGSS trainer card to 5 stars is beating all 10 preset records for each minigame in the pokeathlon, and this is probably what it's most known for outside of just being a fun minigame collection. i think most people beat all the records if they're going for completion and call it a day but despite how easy it is to get that trainer card level, it's actually barely scraping the surface of what this game expects out of you for 100% completion. i genuinely think it's one of the most insane pokemon challenges in terms of the amount of grinding and for WHAT??? WHAT WERE THEY THINKING AAAAA

okay deep breath hear me out. all of the images in this post are pictures of one of my own HGSS files that i have been slowly working on 100% completing the pokeathlon in. i am not done yet and you will soon see why

in the basement of the pokeathlon, there are four rooms that get progressively unlocked as you play. the first one ("solidarity room") is there at default, then you unlock the "trust room" by winning a medal in all five courses at least once, then you unlock the "potential room" by winning a medal for all five courses on the same pokemon (AKA what is called a "medalist pokemon"), and then lastly you unlock the "friendship room" by beating all the preset 1st records, which also gets you the aforementioned trainer card level. each of these rooms is there to display various pokeathlon achievements and holy shit there are a lot of them that just get more crazy as you go further back in the rooms so BUCKLE UP

this is the solidarity room, aka the first room. very easy stuff, the only records down here are in the glass case and they show your highest collective score in each of the five pokeathlon courses. for 100% completion of this room you need to get a score of at least 450 in each course and you can tell you've done this when there are two trophy icons filled in next to each on the right hand side. a couple examples:

the only one in particular that took me more than one or two attempts to get the score i needed was the jump course for some reason and i have no idea why honestly, i think i just suck at lamp jump. on the other hand the skill course is extremely easy entirely because snow throw can be cheesed (video of me doing this here)

next up is the trust room. mainly it features the glass case that shows off every pokemon you've ever received a medal on and also totals how many full medalist pokemon you have, as shown below (i don't currently have any pokemon who AREN'T medalists here, but medalist pokemon are given the red ribbon on the bottom screen, so any non-medalist pokemon won't have that icon):

yes i have 73 medalist pokemon at the time of writing this post. don't worry about the trophies right now, we're going to talk about it later

despite the glass case being the main thing here, the flag, jersey, and golden shoes on the back wall aren't actually there at first. they show up for accomplishing certain things. from left to right you have to switch 200 times in any minigame that requires swapping mons, join the pokeathlon (not necessarily win) 50 times, and dash in any minigame where you flick the stylus to dash 5000 times. these numbers might sound kind of high but it's potatoes compared to later and if you're trying to 100% the pokeathlon these will just naturally show up here eventually without you even thinking about it

amusingly after you get them and interact with them, it doesn't actually tell you what you did to get them there lol. it's just like wow! those are yours! crazy!

next up, the potential room: yet another glass case and a couple of tables on the back for more golden items that appear as you achieve stuff. the glass case this time contains all the records for each individual minigame, including those 1st records you have to beat as i've mentioned a few times.

here are some of my records that i am not so subtly taking the opportunity to show off here lol. i have played so much pokeathlon that all of the 1st records are completely gone from the list, i've overwritten the entire list from each event LOL. on the bottom screen, 1st records you've beaten get a little ribbon on the event icon... but hold on, there's trophies too!

yes there's actually two records to beat for each event, the one that gives you the little trophy is called the mastery record and some of them, unlike the 1st records, are actually pretty damn difficult to achieve. circle push requires 60 points for example, which requires you to get a score of at least 60 - and the theoretical highest score you can get, aka a perfect score, is 66!! that's only 6 points off from perfect!! and don't even get me started on pennant capture, imo it's by far the hardest mastery record, it requires you to pick up 50 entire flags in one game and for a variety of reasons this is very difficult and required me to soft reset over and over doing attempts for multiple hours lol. the mastery records are really where i'm like, damn as a kid with undeveloped motor skills this would make me fucking explode (and it did when i was a child. it almost did even as an adult. fuck pennant capture)

oh yeah btw that "Link" button in the top right is specifically for local wireless playing pokeathlon with friends and there are zero achievements related to it, there's no preset records and no local play is required for completion. figured i'd mention lol

anyway as for the two things in the back, the first with the golden pokegear is for 100 first place wins overall and the one i don't have on the right side is for winning each individual minigame/event in first place... 50 times. 50 times each. there's 10 individual minigames, and some of them don't repeat on any other course, so you can start imagining just how many pokeathlon playthroughs this takes. this is getting ridiculous considering the amount of time investment needed but it Gets Worse!

ah yes the last room. the friendship room. it's cute, it has a statue of you and the last three pokemon you won the pokeathlon with, so you can go in with a team of 3 pokemon you care about and take a photo of your screen surrounded by statues of your favorite guys. here the mons are just random though lol

however there's more to this room and this is where the true insanity of the pokeathlon reveals itself. if you interact with your statue, you get this screen:

as you can see, all of the trophies from the previous rooms are totaled here! the collective trophies are the ones from getting a good score on each course from the solidarity room, the trust trophies are from the amount of medalist pokemon you have shown off in the trust room, the potential trophies are from all the 1st records and mastery records you've beaten in the trust room, and the friendship trophies... well those are actually obtained from the big point score on the top screen, of which you need a minimum of 4500 to get the 10th and final friendship trophy. this total is made up of the sum of all five course high scores, the highest score from each individual minigame (after converting to athlete points, AKA the currency earned), and one point per each medal shown off in the trust room, so five points for each medalist pokemon.

and that's the issue. medalist pokemon. you may have noticed that despite me having a whopping 73 medalist pokemon at the moment as well as getting every other trophy in the pokeathlon, i only have 6 of the 10 trust trophies. do you know how many medalist pokemon you need to 100% the pokeathlon and get that last trust trophy? 200 OF THEM.

let me break down why this is fucking ridiculous. so first of all i've been waiting to mention this until now, but medalist pokemon aren't actually logged by individual pokemon, they're logged by species. this means if you go in with a cyndaquil, and then go in with a different cyndaquil, winning medals on both cyndaquils does not count as more medals after you've already gotten them on that first cyndaquil once. this means that to even attempt getting 200 medalist pokemon, you have to OWN 200 individual pokemon species - as of gen 4 there were 493 pokemon in the national dex including mythicals and stuff; that's a little under half the entire fucking pokedex!! think of it this way, there's 30 pokemon per PC box, and assuming no duplicates, you would need to fill 6 and 2/3 PC boxes with different pokemon species.

pokedex requirement aside, let's break down how many times you have to play the pokeathlon minigames MINIMUM assuming you win first place every single time and don't ever bring repeat species on accident. it's math time babey

you need 200 medalist pokemon but you join the pokeathlon with a team of 3 pokemon at a time, so let's divide that by three and round upwards. 200 / 3 = 67 full medalist runs. for each medalist, you have to beat all 5 courses, so let's multiply 67 by 5 to get 335 total pokeathlon wins. but wait, each course has three minigames! so the total amount of minigames you have to play MINIMUM to get 200 medalist pokemon is 1005. and again, that's at minimum assuming you don't fuck anything up!! these minigames aren't exactly short either, they last 1-2 minutes each and this doesn't count spamming A through dialogue and menus, picking your pokemon each time before each course, watching the cutscene of points getting totaled at the end... 1-2 minutes might sound short but even if we take out all that time menuing and assuming every course is JUST 1 minute for math's sake, that's 1005 minutes - that's 16 hours and 45 minutes of JUST pokeathlon gameplay, and that is absolutely an underestimate.

as you can imagine as a person with chronic pain these minigames are kind of painful after a while and so i'm definitely going slow with this grind but i intend to have every trust trophy eventually. i'm not the first to do it but i've seen very few people online who have even wanted to make the attempt and i want to be able to look at that friendship trophy screen and feel accomplished. (i'm also going to get that last achievement in the potential room but if i don't have it somehow at the end of getting all these medalists i'll worry about it then)

side note i think it's really funny how there's something called the Supreme Cup which is just pokeathlon but harder and the only thing worth doing it for is extra athlete points for winning (300 instead of 100), there's literally 0 achievements tied to it lol

oh, and an aside about how ridiculous the pokeathlon is - the data cards. despite all my rambling here about all these different rooms with various achievements, there's actually even more pokeathlon data that is accessible... for a price.

the lady behind the counter here will sell you data cards for athlete points which let you view more personal pokeathlon data on the computer screen right next to her. the issue is some of these are really expensive, most of them 1000 points or more, which is a minimum of two full pokeathlon courses probably won at first place each. and there's also one card that costs 9999 for some fucking reason, it's the one that shows your total pokeathlon playtime, which i think is really funny. you also can't buy it right away, you have to buy most of the prior ones first. they really said ok here's your reward for grinding enough AP to buy all those data cards including this 9999 one: checking how much time you've wasted on getting here! in total getting all the data cards costs 39499 AP. just to view all your data!! if you get an average of 500 AP per pokeathlon course, that's a minimum of like 79 pokeathlon wins!!

i assume most people have never bought a data card much less all of them, like most people are going to use all that AP for purchasing evolution stones and heart scales from the main shop on the right, but it's kind of nutty how much data the pokeathlon actually saves. very minute stuff. since i've bought all of them, here's my current stats at the time of writing this:

anyways don't do this unless you have a lot of time on your hands to tediously replay the same minigames hundreds of times, and if you do for the love of god rest your wrists btw. these minigames were not built for my bones and they probably weren't for you eitherSFDKSFD

#pokemon #hgss #pokemon hgss #pokemon heartgold #pokemon soulsilver #pokeathlon #kiki was here #kiki.txt #kiki plays games #long post

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