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letsloveimagines · 4 years ago

Photo

Title: Crush

Pairing: Corpse Husband x fem!youtuber!reader

Collab with: @the-winter-sxldier-posts

Requested by: @unicornblood4ever

Request: Hi I just saw your request post for Corpse, so if you're still taking requests I have one. The reader have been on a losing streak, and Corpse tries to help. But accidentally rats himself out as the second imposter. With fluff if possible, of course only if you have time to write and everything.

Word Count: 3963

Warnings: a little angts and fluff, i guess?

Note: The images doesn’t belong to me, all the credits go to the respective creators. I only made the collage. Also, I will not make anything to make Corpse uncomfortable, if he ends saying he doesn’t like fanfiction about him, I will delete this.

Part II: Here

♦⋅☆⋅♦

Y/N sat down at her gaming setup, she was getting ready to start a stream she had been invited by her friend Felix (aka Pewdiepie) to play among us with him, and some other friends. She made sure everything was in order before starting it. She had been doing this for so long, but each time it felt like the first, and there was always that little chill in her belly indicating she was nervous.

She got onto her twitter quickly, just to let people know she was live in case they didn't get the notification about it. As people started coming in, Y/N smiled at the camera. “Hey guys, welcome to the stream.” She read one of the comments from chat asking what she was gonna be playing on stream today. “Today we are streaming some “Among Us’ with some friends, and I am getting to who they are before you guys spam it in chat. I’m going to be playing with Corpse, Sykkuno, Rae, Felix, Seán, Lily, Toast, Poki and Leslie.”

She joined the discord call, as the game loaded up. Y/N had her facecam in the middle on the bottom screen to make sure that she wouldn’t leak the code, once Felix sent it to the discord. Once the code was entered they were in the lobby and Y/N, went to the little mini computer in the game to customize her astronaut, and as always she was quick to pick the white colored one with the pink flower on her helmet. “Hey guys.” Y/N said to her friends in discord with a smile. Felix was the first to speak “Y/N finally you’re here!” She and everyone else laughed as he kept talking, excitedly. “We are still waiting for Corpse and Seán to join before we start, they’ll be here in a minute.” Everyone had said their hellos to Y/N as Seán joined the discord call and the game, followed shortly by Corpse. “Hey, Seán, Corpse.” “Hey, Y/N.” “Whaddup baby.” They both said at the same time making everyone laugh once more, as they all had their characters customized. Y/N’s face turned a few shades of red at what Corpse had said, and her chat was quick to pick up on it. “That is everyone, we are starting the game now.” She muted her mic after Felix had started the game and the black screen with the red astronaut, said shhhhh. Then her screen read ‘Crewmate, there are 2 imposters among us.’

She blew out a breath talking to the chat. “At least we can warm up as a crewmate this round.”

But…

It didn't take much longer for her to get killed, which made her swear. She knew she couldn't trust Felix but she did anyway, and he literally stabbed her in the back… What a traitor.

♦⋅☆⋅♦

The time passed faster than it should have, or at least that’s what it seemed to the group of friends who were just having fun.

Y/N had now been streaming for an hour, and she was on a major losing streak. She either got crewmate, or voted out first as imposter because she was a bad liar. Or when that didn't happen, she was one of the first ones to be killed, and had to spend the entire game floating from one side of the ship to the other as a little white ghost, completing tasks for her team to win. To be honest, she was already a little irritated about that. They were now in the lobby talking to each other while waiting to start the next game. Y/N's nostrils were flared with frustration after another round of failure at being an imposter. She sighed, unmuting her mic."I just wanted to say that in all of these rounds I must have played a full 8 seconds! Like come on, what's wrong with me today!?"

That phrase was enough to make the others burst out laughing, including her chat. The comments came and went so fast, sliding on the screen on her right side, that she could barely keep up.

Sykkuno, like the blessed and pure angel he was, replied amid laughter: "Don't worry, you're just on a bad streak. Better luck next time."

"Yeah, I guess." She answered while moving her mini white astronaut in circles, being quickly accompanied by the black astronaut with horns on his helmet. Y/N smiled at that.

"Stop talking guys, I'll start the new round now." Pewds, who was the host, almost screamed at them.

Y/N cracked her neck and her fingers preparing herself.

"Stay with me this time Y/N, and I'll protect you." A deep voice was heard through her headphones, causing a shiver to go all the way down her spine.

"Oh!" She exclaimed surprised, looking at her chat that was going insane with everyone saying how cute that was. "Thank you, Corpse, let's do that."

"No problem." She could hear the smile in his voice.

The game was started and the black screen with the red astronaut, said shhhhh. Then her screen read IMPOSTER.

Y/N quickly muted her mic, as soon as she stopped listening to her friends speak. "Okay, I wasn't expecting that." She commented to her chat, very surprised, because next to her doll was Corpse's own little character. "Well, maybe my luck is changing. Everyone heard that Corpse and I were going to be together, so at least now we have an alibi if anyone suspects us." Corpse danced around Y/N, suggesting she follow him, and immediately she did. They both went through the ship as he was looking for innocent astronauts for them to murder. They ended up in medbay first, where Y/N faked her samples task, with Corpse watching over her and making sure that no one would find their behavior suspicious.

And, oh, how her luck seemed to have increased when Felix walked in. Y/N immediately pulled up the sabotage map and locked the medbay doors, and Corpse was quick to kill him. That made the girl laugh hard, yelling out loud. "That was just karma having its way!"

Then both vented out as the doors were still locked.

Y/N smiled talking to the chat. “Pewds is dead, next if the opportunity arises we need to get Seán. They are the two that always sus me out even when I’m a crewmate.” She went back to the game as they vented into electrical, since nobody was there presently. They both faked tasks in electrical, Y/N going first with Corpse watching her back. To her surprise, Seán walked in all alone and right as she was going to get her first kill, when Felix’s body was reported. She rolled her eyes. “Damn, so close to getting them both.” She said to her fans as she unmuted the mic, and saw that Rae was the one that found Pewds.

“Where is the body?” Y/N questioned trying to keep her voice level and calm, to not give herself away. “Pewds is dead in medbay.” Was the answer she got from the other girl. “Y/N and I were in Electrical with Seán.” Corpse said, trying to immediately shift suspicion off of the two of them. “They were already there when I entered the room, however. I don't know where they came from before, though."

"We came in through storage, after Y/N and I both did the trash chute, Y/N stopped at the gas can and then we came to the electrical to do our tasks."

Y/N quickly muted herself. "God, Corpse is gonna carry us this round, I can already feel it…I just want one kill and that is Seán, Corpse can kill everyone else... I just want to kill Seán!" She unmuted again as the friends decided that they didn't have enough information to vote anyone, so they skipped and no one was ejected.

Corpse danced around again for Y/N to follow him and she did. This time they went through weapons. Y/N faked the task against the wall while Corpse faked one as well. Y/N brought up the sabotage map while they waited on the kill cool down to end.

Y/N sabotaged the lights, and the two imposters ran over there to turn them on as a way not to give anything that made them suspicious.

"Kill someone, don't wait for Corpse." Y/N read the comments, confused. "I don't know guys, are you sure? Today I haven't won any games as an imposter, so I don't want to give any reasons to make my team lose.” Looking back at the screen of the computer, she smiled seeing that the two little astronauts were touching each other, eye to eye, in what would probably be a strange little kiss. "Awww guys, look! Corpse just kissed me, this is too cute to handle."

But there was something that the fans did not fail to notice, and were quick to tell her that.

User: She's blushing!

User: This is so cute, I'm dying.

User: UGH, I ship them together so much!

"Oh, shut up y’all." She said with her face on fire, clearing her throat trying to make her voice normal again. However, the pink tone that painted her cheeks did not want to disappear, getting worse and worse as she thought about it. “Okay, as much as I don't like it, I'm going to do what you said. I’m sorry, Corpse." And then she quickly ran away, going to another path separated from Corpse, looking for someone alone that she could kill.

Hopefully it would be Seán.Y/n would be the first to agree that she was a little obsessed with getting her revenge. But could you blame her? Seán and Felix were almost always the reason she got voted out or killed first.

She went around the map, and on the navigation she found Lily alone. "Oh oh, poor Lily, but I need to do this." She was quick to press the button, kill and enter the vent, leaving Lily's body cut in half behind.

"Quickly, I need to find someone to be my alibi! Where's Corpse?" She came out of a different vent, running and seeing Rae nearby, quickly joining her. It didn't take long before someone reported the body. "Oh no, I'm sweating already."

“Lily’s body was in navigation.” Leslie said.

“And Toast is dead too, so it was a double kill this round.”

"Where have you been, Leslie?" Corpse asked with such a deep and calm voice that if Y/N were not the other imposter, she would think he was innocent. “I was with Sykkuno in security, looking at the cameras.”

“Yes, I was with him.” The mentioned boy said.

“Well, I was with Poki in medbay but I needed to do the asteroids in weapons. So, when I finished in weapons I went down, and found the body." Leslie replied.

"That seems a little sus to me, to be honest."

"Yeah, seems pretty sus to me too." Y/N repeated after Corpse, trying to help.

"Okay, wait a minute." Rae began, suspiciously. "I was with Y/N for a while because we met in storage, but she came from the right side of the map, I saw it."

"Explain yourself, Y/N."

'Oh no. Busted.' Thought the girl nervously looking at the camera. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself, and replied as calmly as she could: "Well, yes it's true, but I was in comms uploading. When I finished I left and that's when I found Rae in storage."

"It's her!" Seán accused.

"Definitely."

"What!?" Y/N asked shocked. "No, I'm not the imposter guys, I swear!"

"Y/N, stop, it makes perfect sense. I'm voting." She rolled her eyes, that is exactly why she wanted to kill Seán.

It was then that Corpse interrupted: "It couldn't have been her, she was with me."

'What?' Y/N asked herself, 'No, I wasn’t. What is he doing?'

"But... You said you were with Sykkuno."

"I... Yeah, but before that I was with her in Comms, but I left to go to the Security."

"And what path did you take?" Rae questioned.

"I went through storage, then electrical and I went up."

"That’s impossible because I went down the left side, and went through electrical and I didn't see you."

"They’re both the imposters, oh my god." Was Seáns revelation.

"No, we are not. What he said is true!" Y/N tried to defend.

"I'm going to vote Corpse this time just for his audacity!" Rae exclaimed excitedly. "Then we vote for Y/N!"

"What!?" Corpse said shocked. "No...!"

But it was too late, and quickly his little bean body flew off the ship. ‘Corpse was ejected.’

The girl could do nothing more than gawk at the computer screen, still shocked by what had happened. "No!" She said when she muted the microphone. "The game is already lost. What can I do?" She questioned, guilty.

User: Noooo! Poor Corpse.

User: He was defending her :(

User: It's her fault that they found out he was the other imposter.

Guilt weighed on Y/N's heart and she felt saddened. Why did she have to ruin everything? "I know, I'll apologize to him when I can." She whispered to the chat, quietly, running around with her character confusedly. "What do I do now? Do I kill someone or do I play innocent?"

But at that time a meeting was called by Seán who was camped by the emergency button, and everyone got together to speak.

"Yes?"

"Well, we already know who the other imposter is. Are we going to vote her out or not?" He said laughing.

"Guys, please don't, it’s not me."

"Sorry Y/N, but you're the only one sus right now."

"What about Leslie?” Y/N tried. “She left Poki in medbay, she could have gone to navigation, killed Lily, self-reported and said she was in weapons!"

"No, don't believe her!" Leslie shouted. “She’s lying.”

"I know it's Y/N, I'm going to vote for her!"

And one by one everyone voted, and the game was over.

"Good job guys, we did it." The others celebrated while the girl almost pouted.

"What happened, Corpse? I’ve never seen you like that, well, playing so badly I mean." Sykkuno questioned his friend timidly.

There was silence from Corpse for a moment, before he simply said. "I don’t know.”

Swallowing hard, Y/N spoke softly. "Corpse?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry."

"Ehh, don't be. That's alright."

But that was not enough to erase her guilt. "You know Seán this is exactly why I was gonna kill you in the electrical, before Rae found Felix's body. You always sus me out even when I’m innocent."

“But you were the imposter this time!”

After a new game where she quickly died (Seán was the one who broke her neck and left her body in admin), the girl was quick to open Discord and send a message to the deep-voiced boy, who as much - as she didn't want to admit it, even more to herself - was her crush.

Y/N: I’m so sorry I got you voted out, honestly, I feel so bad about it. I’m such a bad imposter.

CORPSE: Y/N, It’s fine, really. There’s no need for you to feel bad about it ♥.

This put a smile on the girl's face again, and her chat was quick to question what was going on. She shrugged her shoulders and gave no further answer, Y/N returned to concentrating on the game, with the corner of her lips lifted in a half smile that she couldn’t control.

♦⋅☆⋅♦

Time quickly passed full of fun for the ten friends, and the thousands of people who watched them. Y/N didn't win any of the rounds, but she didn't care about it anymore. After another hour of playing she decided to say goodbye and finish the stream, feeling the tiredness dominating her. She ate something and took a long and relaxing bath, which eased her aching muscles, and was already in her fluffy blue pajama pants, and was getting ready to go to bed when her phone rang.

Picking it up from the nightstand, she looked at the screen and gasped in surprise seeing who was facetiming her. A shiver ran down her spine. Shaking from head to toe, with her heart pounding, she quickly ran her hand through her hair making sure she was at least minimally presentable, before she answered it, saying nervously, "Hey, Corpse, is everything okay?"

The screen came to life, with her tiny image in the corner and the completely black screen dominating it. Of course he wouldn't turn on the camera, nor did she want him to do it if he didn't feel comfortable. It was already surprising that he actually called, since he has never done that before, and that was what made her even more nervous.

"I just wanted to check on you." His voice came through the phone.

That made her face heat up a little. She was thankful that the only light she had on was the lamp on her nightstand and he couldn’t see how red her face got.

"Cute pajamas by the way." He said while laughing a little bit, provoking her.

"Well, I would say the same thing, but I can't see anything." Y/N provoked back.

There was a comfortable silence after that, a silence that the two of them seemed afraid to try to break. The girl laid down on her bed, curled up under her warm sheets, and looked at the black screen kindly, with her head resting on the pillow.

"So-"

"I-" They both said at the same time, and immediately stopped talking when they realized that. “Go ahead-” “You first-” they once again said at the exact same time.

Y/N tried to speak. She really tried. She was so prepared to tell him the truth, to tell him how much she was into him, that she was in fact in love with him… She was prepared to say that meeting him, and having him in her life for the past few months was one of the best things that ever happened to her. Y/N was determined to speak, but when she tried, nothing came out. She stood there, opening and closing her mouth, sighing with a frown on her face.

"What's up?" Corpse asked seeing that, with concern in his voice.

"Nothing."

"Y/N, you know you can tell me anything."

"I know that." And she really did, Corpse was a good friend, an excellent friend who was always there for her... And that was exactly what she was afraid to ruin with her confession. "You are able to make me so nervous sometimes, even when I think I'm feeling brave."

"Oh, yeah?" He asked, and she could practically see his smile, even though she has never actually seen it. She was in love with a faceless man and she had no idea how to tell him that.

"Oh, shut up."

He laughed deeply for a long time, and that was enough to make her smile. Finally he stopped and said quietly, almost timidly. "I think what you wanted to say is exactly what I want to tell you."

Impossible, Y/N thought with a sad smile on her lips. I want to tell you how much I love you but… how could I? And who could ever love me?

"No, believe me, it isn't." “And how do you know it isn’t?” Y/N bit her lip a little unsure of how to answer him without revealing her feelings for him. “I-” But she cuts herself off, not having the courage to actually say the words. She pressed her face into the pillow to muffle the groan that came out of her mouth, at how much a coward she was being, but she mumbled out her response that was still muffled. “I just know.”

“What was that?” All he had heard were incoherent sounds.. She sighed, removing her face from the pillow not wanting to repeat what she had said, to save herself the rejection, since he couldn’t possibly feel the same way that she did about him.

“Are you really not going to tell me?” His voice broke through her thoughts. She sighed, trying to get away from the internal battle going on in her mind. “Y/N?” He spoke once again, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“If I say it... everything is gonna be ruined and weird for us, and I don’t want that. Your friendship is so important to me, you're my best friend.” She ran a hand down her face, furious with herself. “How do you know that, if you don’t say it?”

“Because I just do, okay?” Why couldn't he just let it go? "I-" She tried to say it out loud, once more. C'mon Y/N, just say it. "I gotta go!" She said quickly tried to end the call, but he wouldn't let her.

"No!" He screamed out sharply, taking her by surprise and then he did something she never thought he would do.

The screen, which was previously completely dark, lit up and his face finally appeared for the girl who loved him to see. Y/N sighed in shock, admiring all his features, from his ivory-white skin to his dark curly hair.

"I have a crush on you too." He confessed quietly, with a soft pink tinge appearing on his cheeks.

Did he just...? Oh my god!

There was silence again, but this time it was a silence that had become tense and terrifying for both of them. Corpse was nervous waiting for her to say something, and she could tell. His mouth was pressed in a thin line, he didn't seem able to face her as his gaze traveled anywhere but to her, and he fidgeted immensely, touching everything within reach from the rings - that she saw he had on his fingers - to the chain necklace he had around his neck.

"Oh." She sighed softly, not knowing what to say.

He looked at her then, apprehensive and almost ashamed. "Ugly, I know."

"No!" Y/N was quick to interrupt. "You are incredibly handsome just… just as I always imagined." The girl managed to see a small smile appear on his lips as he blushed deeply.

"I..."

"I’m in love with you too." She confessed, finally without fear. It felt like weight lifted off her to finally get it out in the open between the two of them.

Corpse’s eyes went wide, completely shocked but so, so happy. A huge smile full of shiny teeth on his face, as he focused all of his attention on Y/N. "You are?"

"Yes." She said blushing and smiling intensely as she snuggled up in the blankets, her face almost hidden when she looked at him dreamily.

"I-" He cleared his throat. "Good."

"Good."

"Great."

"Great!"

They burst out laughing, their voices mixing in hamornia. The two looked each other in the eye, separated by a mobile phone screen, separated by kilometers and kilometers... but even with everything that separated them, the world was not able to stop them from falling in love with each other.

"What do we do now?" He questioned.

"Well..." Y/N started. "We'll have to see, won't we? Why don't you start by giving me your address?"

Corpse smiled provocatively, his beautiful eyes shining maliciously. "Of course... But be careful now baby, the devil’s got his eyes on you."

Y/N laughed completely in love.

"Oh, shut up."

♦⋅☆⋅♦ Tag List: @breathygasps

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no-droids · 4 years ago

Text

Promise Me (It’s Yours)

Part Eleven of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10K

Warnings: OMFG might be the first chapter of rough day to not need any warnings, can you believe it?? I mean of course there’s language, a splash of smut, and just the briefest reference to suicide, but pretty PG-13 this time my guys I apologize

A/N: I’m sorry I know people show up for the smut but I was feeling soft in this Taco Bell parking lot so here this is, I hope y’all like it. I guarantee none of the math is correct but please go with it

***

You jerk awake to the sound of whimpers.

It’s late. The bonfire is nothing more than glowing coals, and your back is resting against a scratchy log instead of a long, comfortable chest. You blink rapidly, trying to figure out where that noise is comi—

The kid. Fussy in his crib, his gasps starting to turn into quiet sobs.

“Hey,” you murmur, aiming for soft and comforting, but the sleep sits right in the middle of your vocal cords and splits your voice in half, making you sound like an exhausted demon. Weirdly enough, it seems to chill him out (did a demon actually teach him how to choke people without touching them?) and you sit up to blearily look around. Where’s Din? “Where’s—” you rub your eyes and squint around once more, “—where’d your dad go, bug?”

The clearing is bare. The field is, too��no path, excluding the one you three made on the hike here. Nothing in the distant forest, and the black duffel bag sits somewhere near your feet.

Alright, no worries, maybe he just… went to take a leak or something. Really… oddly far away. That’s fine. Sometimes humans have to do that—maybe he has a. A shy bladder. Or something. You’re totally fine. The kid blinks back at you through equally tired eyes, his head tilting as he seems to be taking cues from you right now in the absence of his father. You both should just try to go back to sleep…

Or you can wait up for him. That sounds like a better plan. Don’t panic, just trust him. Give him the benefit of the doubt, it’s the least you can do.

You take a second to look around again, still coming up empty. It’s dark out, but the moon is suspended high in the sky. The fire doesn’t even give off much light anymore, just dying embers. Your eyes scan the ground again, catching on the black bag at your feet.

Was that there when you went to sleep? No, the last person who had it was Din, and he was sitting over there, in front of the boulder behind the kid’s shield.

You blink down at the stationary bag for a few more seconds, studying it like it’ll spill all of its secrets if you glare hard enough, but then something sparks in your memory. Something odd, something you only noticed for a second last night. There was a red light that reflected off Din’s helmet when he reached into the bag for food earlier, wasn’t there?

You think back on it, try to isolate the hazy memory. If it was a laser sight, you would’ve recognized the bright beam and panicked, but you didn’t. It was unfocused, dim. Flashing.

Had… had Din brought a tracking fob with him from the Crest? But why?

Maker, it’s like your mind knows it should speed up but it’s still too stupid to actually do it. You should… you should check the bag, right? Just in case… you don’t know. You’re being ridiculous.

You reach out to catch the dark bag nonetheless and then unzip it, rifling through it for a particular item you figure should be in here somewhere. Food, food, more food…

Somewhere…

—It’s not here. No tracking fob here. No red light to be seen of.

Had you been imagining it?

No, you determine after a second. No, because you remember thinking it was odd—you specifically noticed it, clearly recognized it but didn’t contemplate too much into it at the time.

Alright, no worries, maybe he… maybe he went on a quick little hunt while you were both sleeping. He must’ve gone back to the ship to grab his armor and guns and then set off. That’s fine, there’s more food in the bag. He said he’d be here when you woke up, which most likely means morning. Right?

Cool. Cool cool cool, you can wait until morning. You can just settle back down against the log right here and find a comfortable position—there we go—and just wait for the sunrise, wait for the inevitable return of your missing party member. Party leader, arguably. He’ll come back, he always does.

Your body begins to relax, even though something still seems… strange about this. Like there’s something important you’re still missing.

… The field is bare.

You instantly sit up and turn back to study it in the moonlight, study the single path you left on your way here. You remember hiking at least… a grand total of two hours to get here from the Crest, maybe? Granted, you took quite the detour, but that just means he would’ve carved a distinct, new path on his way back—

Would he… would he really go on a hunt without going back to the ship first? Would Mando truly venture out—without telling you—to go collect a quarry without any weapon on him whatsoever? Any piece of armor besides a helmet?

Does that seem right to you?

Fuck, you suddenly feel wide awake, and the baby starts gasping out troubled cries again. You push yourself up to your feet and stumble around the dying flames to go comfort him, dropping to your knees next to the reflective sphere. Your head stays on a constant swivel as you quiet him, brushing the pad of your thumb along his wrinkled forehead and shushing him as you keep looking out at the breezy field of grass, trying to see if you missed anything.

Fuck, maybe you’re just overreacting. What direction is the ship? Which way did you…? You think back, trying to piece together limited information of what you can remember about today. Glancing back down at the log you slept on and then the path leading away from the clearing, rapidfire calculations start going off in your head. No, you realize after a second of frantic thought—no, the sun would’ve—if you walked…

Eventually, you’re able to pinpoint a general idea of where the ship should be, and if you’re right, then he definitely would’ve left a new path to get back to it. You don’t like this. It’s out of character for him. It sits too weird with you, and the kid rarely starts crying unless something is bothering him.

Alright, alright, don’t panic. Din is a professional. He must’ve left on purpose—you would’ve woken up if there was any sort of struggle, or even just an exchange. Odds are, he grabbed the tracking fob and just… went to go get the quarry.

Without waking you. Without telling you. Without bringing anything else with him. No armor. No guns. Just the fob.

Some strange sense of dread begins to fill you, one that feels all the worse when there’s no clear explanation for it. You won’t pretend like you’re an expert, but to a Mandalorian, that seems like it could be considered suicidal, wouldn’t it? What reason would he have to do this?

The field continues to wave, undisturbed, in all surrounding directions except one. You look over at the clearing leading to the dark forest, the treetops too thick to let anything but traces of crystal moonlight through. If he left… he’ll have gone that way. The only direction that wouldn’t leave a path.

Okay. So there's a decision that needs to be made. You can either stay here, in the middle of this wide open field until the sun comes up, and hopefully he comes back by then. Or… you could. Go check if something went wrong.

The forest is gorgeous from here, you can see that. Thick treetops, drifting gently in the breeze, steady and quiet and picturesque. Admittedly, you can also see a haunting, looming nightmare of darkness warning you to stay away from whatever it’s hiding. This is an unfamiliar planet. You know it’s safe, this is the most isolated sector and Din said practically no crime happens here, but. He also said he’d be here when you woke up.

Hang on, wait. Something catches in your peripheral. There—right on the other side of the kid’s crib, you see—

A glove.

… He left the glove. Whether on purpose or by accident, Din left his glove. The one connected to the vambrace, the one that houses all his controls.

The one that houses the comm link.

The piece of armor is already in your trembling fingers before you realize you even went to grab it. Anxiety, stress, dread—you don’t know which weighs on you heavier while you slowly rotate it in your hands, trying to understand what’s happening right now. He left his emergency communicator. The only chance you have at contacting him unless he decides to come back.

Panic suddenly constricts in your chest, and you make your decision blindly. The kid continues to squeak out little whimpers as your arm sinks down into the leather and you pull the gauntlet up almost to your elbow, flexing your fingers inside the fabric and feeling your heart beating in your throat. The controls are fairly basic, it doesn’t take much time to figure out which button he synced with the hovering sphere, which command he uses to lock the two locations together.

“Chill out, kiddo,” you whisper, doing your best to calm your own raging uncertainty. Conviction is key, you think. You made your decision. Not wanting to waste any more time in case something went awry, you sling the bag over your shoulder and set off in the direction of the trees, feeling… woefully underprepared for whatever may potentially face you.

The forest is quiet as you finally make your way past the first few trees marking its beginning, or end, and you need a second to blink and adjust your vision. It’s dark—if you thought it was dark when you awoke, it’s nothing compared to this. The treetops are thick and barely allow any moonlight to pass through their dense leaves whatsoever, just bits and pieces scattered here or there. There’s no path, no trail, just nature. Fallen logs, moss, rock and boulder formations you have to avoid.

You shush your agitated ward again, wanting to control yourself because you’re getting the kid worked up into baby battle mode with no visible threats to see. He reads energies—he’s capable when he wants to be, when he deems the situation fit. Right now he’s quieted somewhat but he’s still on high alert, recycling your inner panic outwards until you feel the air shifting around you, an… unexplainable phenomena you can’t even describe properly.

Well, you figure. If anything, he’s far more dangerous than any weapon Din typically carries with him. You tend to forget, most of the time. He’s never hurt you, no matter how boisterous the tantrums sometimes are, and you find yourself very rarely thinking of him as anything other than an innocent, helpless baby you’re tasked with protecting. Though it appears that most of the time, he’s been the one protecting you.

What are you saying? There’s no need for protection right now, you’re simply searching for your absent ally. You’re not being brave—no matter how quickly your heart is beating or how much your hands are sweating, you’re not being brave because bravery implies facing something you fear. You have nothing to fear, it’s nothing more than an abandoned forest. A backdrop for your endeavor.

Though… though now that you think about it, this setting looks eerily similar to one you’ll have seared into your memory forever. The forest on Corellia.

You will the thought away with a frantic shake of your head. Naboo is safe, Naboo is safe—it’s not like Corellia. It’s not crawling with people desperate for food and credits, desperate enough to resort to kidnapping and slave trade. Naboo will economically prosper no matter what threat befalls the galaxy, its industry comes from tourism and resorting.

You stop for a second, needing a breather. Just for a second. You haven’t been walking more than fifteen minutes but the terrain makes your feet hurt. Sure, there are clearings between trees and the ground isn’t complete overflowing with obstacles, but they’re still present. The scattered rocks dig in under your shoes and some of the bushes you pass by have sharp leaves or thorns—but it’s the sprawling root systems that prove to be the worst. They crawl across the ground like they can’t decide whether they want to be part of it or not, and more than once you stub your toe on a hidden tube arching a few inches out of the mossy soil.

A part of you almost has to remind yourself that you’re here because you’re looking for somebody, rather than being trapped here trying to evade something. The adrenaline and fear are starting to get the best of you, make you too antsy, warp your senses. You’re deep in the forest now, but not enough to feel the wind disappear yet—you can still hear it rattling around above you, leaves slapping against each other, branches creaking as they tower over you. You almost wish it were quiet. You don’t feel comforted by the breeze anymore, it doesn’t feel like an ever present reassurance as much as it does a burden that masks the noises you could otherwise be hearing. The snapping of twigs that could potentially be there. The crunching of leaves under feet that aren’t your own.

So. You should probably admit now that this was actually a horrendous idea. Because you’re fucking stupid for not realizing this earlier, but. Din ventured into this hellscape to find a quarry, did he not?

A… wanted criminal.

Shit. What the fuck. That’s a hell of a fucking thing to register this late, isn’t it?

You can turn around, you figure. You can turn around right now and head back to the campsite—actually, that sounds like a great idea. You should do that.

You spin around and begin retracing your steps… which, you figure out about five minutes later, is an impossible feat. None of your surroundings look familiar—or shit, maybe it all looks familiar. Like… trees. And fucking rocks. Trying to distinguish landmarks is almost impossible now, and there’s no way to tell which direction you’re going with no visibility overhead, no celestial body to guide you.

You don’t immediately panic, not until you (quite literally) stumble upon a small stream of water flowing through some stones under your feet.

Well, okay. That’s not good. Okay, well, no, you suppose that could be good. It’s water—it’s a landmark, sure, the tiniest little landmark you've ever seen, but that’s exactly the problem. You’ve never seen it before. Which means you’re most definitely not going in the right direction.

At this point, the only option you have is to turn around again. Maybe you can unintentionally make the same series of stupid mistakes once more to start you right at the beginning. The kid is still glancing around in his cradle, making sure no harm comes to your useless ass, but then you freeze when you begin to hear something in the distance.

It’s an unfamiliar sound—a deafening one, even from this far away. Long and echoing, a giant chorus of… something. Something you’ve never heard before, something you can’t place.

Your heart is thundering as you walk closer to the source of it, moving slowly and cautiously forwards and having no clue what it could possibly be. It doesn’t seem to amplify much as you travel closer, which means it must be a ways away still. It’s terrifying nonetheless—the anticipation, how sweaty your hands are, the way you’re very aware of the muscles in your stomach for some reason.

The baby coos softly at your side, but the suddenness of the gentle noise nearly makes you jump out of your skin. You gasp and look down at him for the first time in what feels like ages, clutching at your chest, but then—

—then footsteps rush you from behind and something grabs at your shirt.

You react completely on instinct, your body nearly throbbing with adrenaline as you whip around and launch a mean jab aimed at the dark silhouette behind you. It slams directly into his solar plexus hard enough to bend him in half and ripple through your whole arm with the blowback. Your other fist pulls back and instantly goes for him again, but he just barely manages to jerk his arm up and block it in time—

And thank the Maker he does. Because you were just an inch shy from colliding your knuckles against the side of his head in your wild stage of panic. The one currently covered in devastatingly strong, shiny metal, the helmet just barely visible in the dark forest.

It’s like it doesn’t even register with you—you’re already going to hit him again when Din’s hand hooks around your arm and he yanks you forwards. Your body slams into his and then he’s wrapping himself around you and holding suffocatingly tight. Everything inside you still wants to struggle against him, gasping into his shoulder as your heart continues to gallop with terror no matter what your logic tells you. But he holds harder than steel and the sound of his voice eventually returns to you after a moment, repeating harsh words at you through a familiar vocal filter.

“—me, it’s me, it’s me, I’m right here, stop it, stop it, stop—”

You blink desperately against black fabric, letting the familiar scent, touch, and embrace bring you back down again. He’s so solid—has such a strong hold on you, absolutely no give to be found, and the devastatingly tight embrace manages to quickly settle you.

But he doesn’t wait long. As soon as you stop fighting him, he releases you in favor of grabbing your shoulders and shoving you out at arm’s length, frantically jerking the helmet up and down your body and twisting you back and forth while he looks. Your arms dangle with the inspection and you readily let him move you around like a rag doll, not having enough sense to register anything beyond safe. You’re safe. Everything seems to exist in a box right now, far away and yet compact at the same time. The visor snaps back up to your face and you blink dazedly up at him.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately tell him, voice pitched high and awkward, “woah, hah—whew, ahah—I’m sorry, I-I’m just—“

His fingers hook at your chin and he pulls it up, tilting your head back and forth, allowing the small patch of moonlight beaming through the treetops to catch the water in your eyes. It glints in shameless betrayal, and you try unsuccessfully to blink it away despite the damage already being done. Din drops his arm and you lower your chin without the platform propping it up.

“You just—you just—” you gasp out, delayed relief suddenly filling you and making your voice wobble dangerously, “—y-you went on a hunt but you left your armor. You left your guns, you left everything. I didn’t know—what could’ve happened, I—why’d you do that? W-Why—why didn’t you t-tell m—”

He wraps his hand behind your head and pulls you into his chest once more, not saying a single word. This hug is just as tight as before, just in a different way. He still uses it as a way to calm you and it still squeezes the air from your body, but this one doesn’t feel like it��s entirely for your benefit anymore.

It takes you a few more seconds to realize his hands are trembling.

You go to pull back, but he tightens, anchoring you to him. “What’s—” you gasp against the fabric covering his shoulder, “—what’s wrong? Are you okay? Where’s the quarry? What’s—what’s making that sound? Are we safe?”

Din takes slow, shallow breaths, and you hear it almost too well with your ear shoved against his body. Little by little, he loosens his grip on you. Both of you are still panting by the time you’re able to wrench back and look up at him.

Bare, shaky hands push your hair back away from your face, eventually coming to rest framing both of your cheeks. They’re warm and strong where his fingers wrap around the bend of your jaw, securing you in place, and when he speaks, he sounds like he’s been through hell and back.

“Don’t ever,” Din whispers brokenly, tugging a little bit to make sure you’re listening. “Don’t ever—ever run away from me like that. Ever again. Understand?”

You stare up at him, wide-eyed and dumb, unmoving. Is that what he thinks? That you were trying to… to run away from him?

“I—I wasn’t running,” you immediately stutter out, blinking rapidly at him and trying not to let the confusion show on your face. “I’d never run—I-I told you I wouldn’t—”

“I came back and you were gone,” he breathes, his quivering thumbs brushing along the height of your cheekbones. “I—my kid, he was gone, everything was gone, I-I…” The helmet shakes back and forth the slightest bit, and then he drops his grip to clamp down on your shoulders, clearing the fragile turmoil from his throat and hardening his tone. “Listen, you can’t do that—you can’t take my kid and just… just disappear like that, please, promise me you won’t do that agai—”

“You disappeared,” you accuse with a whisper, but it’s like he doesn’t even hear you.

“Promise me,” he urges, shaking you enough to make your head bobble just slightly, and the quiet plead of his voice through the modulator compels you to acquiesce without a second thought.

“I promise I won’t disappear,” you vow to him, unwavering and earnest. “Now promise you won’t, either.”

Din stares at you for a moment, his body tense and completely stationary. He’s still breathing heavy though, his chest rising and falling hard enough for you to count. One, two, three… Seven. Seven whole breaths, before he finally responds.

“I promise,” he eventually declares, before taking a step forward and crowding you, pulling your shoulders in and slowly tilting his helmet down until it rests against your forehead. The cool metal feels like ice on your burning skin—but you ignore it and allow him to get as close as he can possibly be, to hold you tight and keep you there. “I promise,” he goes on, “that if you ever—that if something ever happens to you two, and you just… just vanish on me like that again—then I’d—I’d…”

And then his next words steal the air from your lungs, wipe your head clear of any thoughts whatsoever—the hushed, vehement sincerity in his voice. Yet… calm. Certain, composed, and with purpose. Almost as if he could only get you to understand one thing, then he would want it to be this.

“Then I’d tear this whole galaxy apart to find you,” he tells you quietly, tightening his hands on your arms and swearing an oath to you. “Both. Both of you. I’d—I’d never stop. I’d rain hell. Tell me you understand.”

“I… I understand,” you finally murmur, and Din quickly pulls you to his chest and wraps himself around you once more without another word. His fingers tangle in your hair and encourage you to rest your face in the crook of his neck, so you do. Even though his helmet jabs uncomfortably at your cheek like this, you do your best to just settle down and breathe him in, bring your hands up to rub at his back and wait for his heart rate to slow.

Eventually it does. It seems like it takes ages, but eventually he's able to unwind his large stature from around you, letting you have a bit more of your own space. He doesn’t take his hands off you, though—his palm drags down your elbow and catches your bare hand in his, gently tugging.

“Let’s go,” he says quietly, beginning to lead you… somewhere. Probably out of the forest and back to the ship, but you don’t question it and completely forget about the low rumbling still echoing in the distance. You follow directly behind him and away from the mysterious sound, the fingers of your right hand still laced with his left, knowing there are far more important questions to be asked.

“Din,” you whisper, but he doesn’t need anymore prompting.

“I thought I’d be quick enough,” he admits, pulling you along by your hand. “It’s barely been a couple hours.”

You stay silent and focus on your feet, letting him go at his own pace. More than once he plays bodyguard, standing in front of wickedly sharp branches while you and the kid pass, and there’s never anything said beyond a quiet ‘thank you’ every time he does it.

“I’ve…” he says after a while. “I’ve been doing this job for awhile. And there are things… things you learn. Quick. Ways to predict people, ways to get in their heads. Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry. Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people. Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring. But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists. The ones that don’t ever put up a fight. Watch your feet.”

You blink and stumble over a hidden root nonetheless, trying to keep up both physically and mentally. Din tightens his grip and catches you by your elbow.

“This one was like you,” he goes on, pulling you up and leading you forward once more. “Wasn’t trying to run. Just wanted to spend his last few months hiding out on the most beautiful place in the galaxy before he got caught.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up? Why’d you go in the middle of the night?” You whisper, not upset anymore. Just trying to understand. “You couldn’t have waited until morning?” But Din just shrugs.

“I didn’t want to remind you.” His sentence is short and stunted, yet serves to answer all three of your questions without providing any information beyond that, the unspoken sentiment barreling forth and smashing into you full force. He didn’t want to remind you. He wanted to leave while you were asleep and then return before you woke up, never letting you remember that responsibilities exist beyond this gorgeous planet for the time being.

You’re a bit shocked, to be honest. In hindsight, though, you suppose it makes sense. Din was the one who navigated to this sector, kept the bag out of your reach the whole day. If the kid had decided to wake up just an hour or two later, he would’ve been back by then, and you would’ve never known any different.

“Anyway,” he clears his throat, and a wave tiredness suddenly grips you. Fuck. Too much thinking. “The quarry went willingly, they always do when their last wish is to chase down a pretty landscape. Nice guy. Found him camped out by a giant—”

Din suddenly goes oddly quiet, and you’re too exhausted to push it. You’re starting to drag a little bit. You woke up in blind panic and have been on edge ever since, and now that you know things are okay, your body just wants more sleep. The trees blur as you keep moving forward, zoning out and knowing you likely have another few miles of walking before you’re back.

You almost trip over him. You don’t even notice he’s there until you nearly run into him. In your defense, the only visible part of him is his helmet; the clothing is too dark under the thick treetops to see anything else. Still, it takes you a second, and you blink down at Din’s crouched figure in front of you, blocking your intended path.

“Up,” he turns to mutter over his shoulder when you ultimately fail to comprehend.

…There’s no way.

Hesitantly, you lift one of your knees to his side and feel his arm firmly hook under it. Emboldened, you lean down until your forearm can wrap around the front of him, and then you do a stupid little bunny hop along the curve of his spine. Din easily catches your other leg before rising up.

He bounces you higher on his back once he’s upright, and you’re automatically resting your chin on his shoulder and clinging to him, your heart filling with butterflies as he begins trudging forward.

It’s… oddly comfortable. As long as you keep your arms wrapped tight around his chest, you can bury your face into him and drift in and out. He goes out of his way to keep you as level as you can possibly be, trying to soften his steps so your jaw doesn’t bounce on top of him while he steps over fallen logs and ducks to avoid low hanging leaves.

Later—you’re not sure how long it’s been, his voice comes through the modulator, ringing with your ear pressed against the helmet no matter how quiet he tries to be.

“How’d you know I went on a hunt?” He asks, and there’s a soft reservation in his tone, as if he doesn’t really want to speak but needs to ask you anyways.

“Mmm?” You slur into the fabric stretching over his shoulder, probably drooling on it a bit, too. “Hmm?”

His voice increases marginally in volume, but still maintains a gentle undertone that lulls you into relaxing deeper. “You knew I left to look for the quarry—how?”

“Fob,” you tell him tiredly, not having much energy to spare the words. “Wasn’t in the bag.”

You’re too out of it at this point, it takes a moment to realize Din has abruptly slowed down. “How’d you know there was a tracking—”

“You’re… reflective?” You ask, though you don’t really know why you’re asking. “S’to your detriment. Sometimes.”

That seems to stun him somewhat, halting him in place for the time being. The biggest response it gets from you is the tiniest little eyebrow twitch inwards, wondering why the steady movements of your transportation seems to have temporarily stalled. “How’d you know I left my armor?”

“Hmm?” You ask again, not really hearing him.

“Hey, stay awake for a second,” he bounces you and you groggily mutter something under your breath that even you can’t comprehend. Din glosses over it while you blink your eyes open. “Tell me how you knew. You didn’t go back to the Crest.”

You drag your head off his shoulder and squint around, looking around at the edge of the forest and the flowing grass beyond and trying to think with your stupid, tired brain, really needing to focus on the question. “…No?”

The curiosity in his voice can’t be masked, not by him nor the filter through which it’s processed. “So how did you know I left my armor on it?”

“You would’ve left a trail,” you shrug. “The grass is tall.”

“I could’ve just taken the path we made earlier,” he eventually proposes, still completely motionless in the middle of the relatively sparse number of trees leading to it. “Gone back to the ship exactly the way we came.”

“Y’could’ve,” you admit with a yawn. “But the ship is that way,” you lazily raise your arm and point a good fifty or so degrees to the left, and Din follows his own outstretched gauntlet you’re still sporting around your hand with the visor.

“I’m impressed,” he finally says, shifting you on his back but perfectly content to keep his feet rooted to the spot. “I didn’t think you had a good sense of direction. You know where the Crest is on this planet but not when we were on Canto Bight.”

You snort a laugh. No, no you have no such thing—you got lost as fuck in this forest. A good sense of direction counts as a solid survival skill, and you’d say you still very much lack most of those. Besides pulling water out of thin air, you can’t claim to know much of anything at all in that department.

“Mmm. No, that was just—“ you shake your head. “Y’know, jus’ some… panicked? Math? That’s all.”

“Panicked…” Din repeats slowly, “…math.”

You nod, frustrated that he’s still not moving, clearly waiting for you to explain your rapid, chaotic thought process from earlier. Still, you do your best for him, trying not to slur your words too much. “We… walked towards the sun this morning to get to the field. I remember, because your shiny ass was blinding me the entire time, what must’ve been like. A whole fucking hour? At least. And… and then we walked a little less to get here, forty-five minutes probably, then me ‘n the kid watched the sunset leaning up against that one log, which was at a solid angle—little more than fifty degrees to the right from the path. You could’ve retraced your steps from earlier if you really wanted to, but taking the shortcut would’ve shaved off about...” you snuggle your face into his shoulder deeper for a moment and think really hard about it. “Thirty minutes? Or an hour round trip. Give or take, since the kid slowed us down.”

He still doesn’t move, and you huff quietly, feeling like you’re on top of a stubborn blurg that just can’t be fucking bothered. Should you squeeze your legs around his middle? Will that work?

“You… went on a hunt, sweet girl,” Din finally says, bluntly, after way too long of a pause. He sounds vaguely impressed for reasons beyond that of your comprehension right now. “In your own little… panicked way. How does it feel?”

“Unsuccessful,” you breathe, burying your forehead into his shoulder once more and blinking your eyes shut. Too much thinking, too much thinking. You need to sleep.

“You were on the right track,” he hums, bouncing you up and setting off again, and you can’t help yourself. It’s completely involuntary, tumbles out of your mouth without thought.

“Craziest bounty hunter in the guild,” you slur, and Din doesn’t give you even a shred of the laughs that deserves.

“I should make you walk just for that,” he threatens instead, though he does no such thing. He just keeps leaning forward in a position that can’t be comfortable for him and lets you fall asleep on his back, holding you tight to his body as he finally breaks out of the last trees and continues hiking through the familiar field to go back home.

***

You rouse twice. Once, when hands allow your legs to slowly slide down a firm body and settle on solid metal. He spins around to catch you before you can collapse, and then slowly eases your exhausted body down to the floor.

A bare hand cradles the back of your head until that finally settles down, too.

The second time, you can’t quite be sure of. One of those moments where you’re barely conscious, drifting to the point where everything around you could be part of your dreamscape, where you can’t trust your own ears or mind to differentiate between what is real and what isn’t. All you’d need is a single person telling you this didn’t actually happen and you’d accept it without question.

Pacing. Quiet footsteps moving back and forth across the floor as you sleep, pausing every once in a while to stand in front of your slumbering figure. Something unintelligible is mumbled as he walks away, the hollow thunk of boots clambering up a ladder. Engines rumble to life under your ear, and gravity gently pushes you deeper against the flat metal supporting your body.

The footsteps soon return and start to pace around once more.

***

“Hey,” a quiet voice murmurs, your shoulder rocking back and forth slightly. “Wake up.”

You blink your eyes open to a familiar visor looking down at you, his hand quickly leaving your shoulder and brushing a gloved thumb across your cheekbone when he sees you’re awake. “Mm? Din? Wha’s—” you glance around you at the dark hull of the Razor Crest, before blinking your tired gaze back to him, “—s’going on? Wha’ time s’it?”

“Late,” he whispers. “We’re in the air. I had to wait until the kid was asleep, but I want… I want you to see something.”

“What is it?” Still blinking blearily, you sit up, but then Din grabs your hands and keeps your momentum going until you’re slowly dragged to your feet. What you do when you’re standing upright doesn’t really qualify as standing or upright—you just sag against him with exhaustion as he wraps his forearms around your lower back, keeping you pressed tight against him as your ankles drag uselessly against the ground.

“Use your feet,” he reminds you quietly, and you harumph in a grumpy response. Maker, you want to go back to sleep. You’re sure you tell him as much, but he just shushes you and encourages you to hold yourself up, letting go while you steady yourself but hovering his palms a few inches away from your arms just in case. “I want you to put my helmet on.”

“Excuse me?” You ask him, swaying slightly and rubbing one of your eyes, not feeling amused. “Is this some kind of… power trip? Or something? Because you’ve spent the last few days literally beating me up, I’d assume that would be enough for y—”

“I let you beat me up,” he grumbles under his breath. “How are you ever gonna take a punch if it hurts you that bad to just throw one, sweet girl?”

“I’ll punch first,” you respond groggily, trying to move forwards so you can lean on him again, but being stopped by a firm grip on your shoulders.

“I know you will,” he mutters, letting go after a second to brush your hair away from your squinty eyes. “Listen, I want you to put my helmet on, okay?”

You nuzzle your head into his leather palm and hum, giving it some thought. “Are you gonna… turn on the light thingie?” You clarify, not being able to remember what the setting is called, and he nods.

“Yes,” he tells you very seriously. “There’s a… stars, a ‘noise thingie’ that I’ll turn on, too. You won’t be able to see or hear for a little bit—you’ll have to trust me.”

“Is this for sex?” You blurt as soon as the thought occurs to you, and Din sighs heavily, letting his head drop to his chest in exasperation. “Like some sort of a… sensory deprivation thing? Because if so, I can like—I mean I can get into it.”

“If I say yes, will you put it on?” He tries, and. Well, that question shouldn’t wake you up nearly as much as it does. You blink at him, actually registering the sight of the mirrored visor this time. Your gaze drops to see he’s back in full beskar regalia, his body looking even larger and broader with it on.

“Oh,” you say quite suddenly, remembering the question. “Oh. Shit yeah, I will.”

He shakes his head. You’re getting better and better at reading him—becoming more fluent in helmet, one could say—and this head shake says he can’t believe he’s actually surprised that worked. “It’s not for sex,” he tells you immediately, deadpanning the delivery even more than he typically would. “Will you still put it on?”

You look at him blankly, wondering why this is even happening. He said you’re in the air right now, and there’s… something he wants you to see? Whatever this is, it’s spur of the moment. Something he felt the need to wake you up for, but likely won’t push if you decline.

“Yeah,” you nod, “'course I will.”

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs, tipping your chin up slightly in the dim hull so he can watch. Since they already want to do so regardless of the gentle command, your lids readily dip shut and you wait patiently as his touch leaves you for a moment.

You’re already sagging a bit by the time one of his hands returns to your cheek, and then plush lips press gently to yours. The sigh you give him is completely involuntary—aching and quiet and longing as you let it go right in his mouth, your expression narrowing with concentration.

But he’s quick. He leans back before either of you can get lost in it and reminds you with a gorgeous, rumbling baritone, “You’ll have to trust me.”

You nod in confirmation and soon his helmet is carefully being lowered over your head. This is the second time around he’s done this—and you suppose if you couple that with your still lazy demeanor, the silent darkness that comes along with it doesn’t bother you as much as it did a few months ago. The padding still grips your cheeks and you still feel disconnected from your surroundings—even more so now than the last time he put it on you—but it’s welcoming, in a way. Giving you a reason to cling to him and tilt your head with the unfamiliar weight, breathing slow and easy while isolated in your own little pitch black world.

Oh Maker, you could probably fall asleep again just like this, so long as he keeps holding you up. But Din has other plans, clearly. He eases you backwards, continues to walk you back and back and back some more, and you have no problem just going with it. He’s strong, taking almost all of your weight and somehow instinctively knowing how to hold you so that you’re fully supported no matter how you’re positioned. He shifts you to one arm at one point, does something with his free hand that you can’t really figure out but aren’t really bothered by either.

He guides you both a few more steps backwards, and you start to wonder how long the hull actually is. But then he suddenly grabs you tight—tight enough to make your eyes pop open to the black void in front of you and panic slightly, before he tilts you back even more and suddenly the ground is dropping out from under your feet, the air rushing silently around your entire body.

Okay, now you full-on panic.

He doesn’t let go, thank the stars, even when you scramble up to straddle and cling to him, heart clanging hard against your sternum at his fucking audacity. The jet pack? Are there just no fucking rules anymore?

Sure enough, the thrusters kick in and he’s good enough with the phoenix to counteract the gravity shift as much as possible, making it a gradual thing instead of a rapid change in motion. You’re almost confident you would’ve slipped out of his grip and gone slamming to the ground had he not done the preventative maneuver.

Regardless, you’re gonna fucking kill him. You’re going to murder Mando and get your own bounty puck, one with your name on it. It won’t end well; everyone after you will have a personal vendetta considering you offed one of their own. If you survive the confrontation then you’ll likely get taken to mine spice somewhere for the rest of your miserable life, probably Kessel—that is, assuming he doesn’t kill you first, within the next however many minutes.

And oh, he seems like he takes his sweet fucking time, hauling your fuming, decapitated ass along on a late night joyride. Every second he continues to allow you to fly in blind, deaf isolation is another butt whooping you’re vowing to give him, and it pisses you off even more that you can’t even express your righteous fury because you can’t let go of him. You’re a parasite in midair, clinging to his metal body while he slowly descends, navigating you both down until you feel his boots finally meet solid ground.

You carefully reach for the ground with one foot and try to feel it with your tippie toes just in case he’s somehow tricking you, until Din drops you down and your feet mercifully meet dirt. As soon as you find your balance, you shove an open palm against the metal of his chestplate in anger and Din quickly catches your wrist, the beskar shaking slightly under your hand like he found the whole thing rather humorous.

You don’t have much time to fuss. He spins you around and then his hands settle on your shoulders, and for some reason… you only notice it now. The fabric covering your torso and legs is gradually becoming damp for some reason. You can’t feel any real splashes of water—no raindrops or anything, but it gets worse and worse the longer he holds you steady in front of him.

His hands eventually drag down your arms and elbows, until they’re catching your wrists and slowly pulling both of them up. Din cradles the backs of your hands as he presses your palms against the cold metal helmet around your head, and then he gradually begins to pull it up, and—

—Loud.

You stop for a second.

… Tears spring up.

Din keeps pulling.

What starts out as a dull hiss continuously amplifies as the beskar slowly lifts, growing louder and louder in volume until it’s a deafening, violent, thunderous roar.

Yet still, you don’t open your eyes. You just… listen to it. Let the sound of it fill your heart, the same sound you caught earlier in the forest but now amplified exponentially, almost surrounding you with reverberating white noise. Your whole body is practically drenched in water by the time you finally open your eyes and blink through the heavy mist.

He said no oceans, and he was right. It isn’t an ocean—it’s… something so unbelievably beautiful that you don’t even have a name for it. You don’t want one, not really. There isn’t a name that would be good enough. It’s easily—by and far, in your measley handful of decades of existence—the most majestic thing you’ve ever seen. A gigantic, enormous cliff dwarfs you on three sides, with tens of thousands of tons of water arcing over their sharp edges and plunging into the rocky lake below.

The cloud of droplets ricocheting from the base of the jaw dropping cascade is massive in and of itself—easily taking up a good quarter of your field of view even from this distance away. The shore sits close enough but the spectacle is still somewhat distant, remaining an untouchable heaven, a gorgeous lake separating you from it and rippling with waves that settle to lap at the sand.

The rest of the setting comes later, after you’re able to process the main event. You’re in the middle of the forest from before—familiar colossal trees wrap around the shoreline and vibrant shrubbery blankets the edges of the falling water, evergreen and fed by a constant nourishing mist. The sun is also beginning to come up. You can’t see it yet, but you can see the way the sky is starting to gradient itself from a starry midnight blue to pale lavender, the first rays beginning to peak over the treetops.

You feel yourself take a few, slow steps forward, but leather catches your hand from behind and gives it a firm squeeze before you can move completely out of reach. You don’t even have to look back at him to know what it means. The sentiment transfers seamlessly—be careful, he says, before dropping it and letting you continue forth.

Reaching the shore brings even more beauty to a backdrop you didn’t think could get any better. You have to carefully step over—oh, heavens—small, transparent crystals tinted every color you can imagine to reach the water, sparkling under the gently lapping waves. They’re like thin, flat shards of glass, and you know that if the sound of the falling water wasn’t so deafening, you’d probably be able to hear the muted crunching noise they make shattering under your boots with every cautious step. Jagged edges and multicolored powder is all that’s left in your wake, no matter how careful you try to be.

You almost don’t want to move since they’re so delicate and everywhere, probably blanketing the entire floor of the lake, but you push forward with purpose until you’re just close enough to squat down and dip your fingers into the cool water. It’s crystal clear and reflects the lightening sky with every gentle ripple and disturbance. You study the pieces of glass as the repetitive waves distort their shape, the colorful shards turning to smooth, round pebbles the closer they are to the water. A large green one catches your eye—circular and comparatively tiny, but standing out amongst all the rest.

You pluck it from the shore and let the almost perfectly round emerald sphere roll around in your palm, scanning the shallow water once more. Then, ah—there, you reach out and grab a slightly larger, heavier, unassuming brown one that you have to hold up to the gradually rising sun to see its sparkle. It’s got harder edges and feels rougher in your hand but you like it that way. You like that there’s a bit of a warm amber at its center when the light hits it right.

Perfect. Taking another moment to study your choices, you eventually end up finding a gorgeous, slightly pearlescent piece that sits just between the size of the other two in your collection. It’s tinted a pale, off-white amongst a sea of color and there’s something gentle about it that speaks to you, something that feels right about the gradual sloping curves and how it sits in your palm.

Carefully pocketing the three pieces of fragile glass and rising up, you glance back to see Din standing there, helmet on once more and frozen right where you last left him.

He looks… awkward, almost. Holding his hands behind his back, all his weight shifted to one foot while the other twists back and forth against the ground just slightly. Nervous, for some reason. Feeling unsure of his place. The posture tugs at your heartstrings, as well as the spectacular gesture, and you soon make your way back to him.

“Where did you… where did you find this!?” You have to yell over the rushing water once you get close enough. “I didn’t see anything on the navcomp—”

“—wasn’t—navcomp—” he replies, barely just loud enough for you to hear. You miss most of it, but you’re able to piece together the gist based on what little you can catch. “—quarry—isolated sector—uncharted.”

Uncharted. It’s uncharted, the navcomp wouldn’t register it. Untouched by millennia of progress. Plenty of people have probably seen it before, but apparently none of them have ever told anybody about it. The universe is vast but it’s also old—it’s unbelievable that cartographers have plotted almost the entire galaxy but they still missed something like this.

The roar of the marvel is so deafening, it takes you a moment to realize he’s still speaking

“—nobody—yet—it—” he nods the helmet out at the spectacular landmark, “—it’s yours—you want—”

“My what!?” You bellow, but he doesn’t clarify or add anything new. He just spins you around again, extending his arm out over your shoulder to point at the breathtaking view and then dropping his helmet down next to your ear.

“Yours,” Din repeats firmly, resolutely. Nothing more to be said.

You’re not sure if you’re crying yet, there’s too much water in the air to tell. All you can do is just instinctively lean all your weight back into his chest and let his arms lace around your body, and you have to blink the droplets away as they start to trail down your forehead and into your eyes. He keeps you like that until the rising sun begins to reflect off the cloud of mist at the rocky base of the monument, scattering light in all directions and splitting it into a beautiful spectrum that reflects every color.

You wonder if Din can see it. You wonder if there’s a filter on his helmet that isn’t infrared or night vision, where a computer isn’t constantly alerting him to movement or sudden changes in atmospheric pressure. Just… pure, unobstructed, visible light. You know there’s probably all sorts of tracking measures programmed in, you know he can zoom and spot a sniper from a vast distance—you know he sees things you don’t. Things you won’t ever see. But you also hope the visor isn’t shaded too dark—you hope there’s a setting that works like a one way mirror, if only so that he can also see the beauty of this planet the same exact way you can.

You eventually turn in his arms and take one small step away from him just so you can look at him, and sure enough, the visor is tilted up towards the natural beauty. Your eyes study every inch of him as if you’ve never seen him before, as if he may as well have taken the helmet off right in front of you. This is thoughtful. It’s so fucking thoughtful of him. For being such a mystery, this right here… this is soul bearing. It’s not an ocean, it’s a million times better than one and the fact that he not only remembered you telling him something like that, but he actually flew you out here to see it. It makes your chest ache with an unknown feeling, one you still have trouble recognizing. It settles down right in the softest part of you, makes your mouth open and give it a four letter name.

You say it so softly, confess it knowing he’s not looking, knowing he’d never be able to hear above the sound of the cascading rapids crashing against the rocks below. You can’t hear it either, but you can feel it. The way the word lilts off your tongue, the simple truth in it that’s impossible to hide from any longer.

He glances back at you, before doing a double take. Gently, Din pushes at your shoulder and urges you to face forward again, to take all of it in while you still can, and yet.

All you can see is him.

His head slowly turns back down to face you, and your eyes keep shamelessly scanning every bit of him, watching the mist droplets chase each other down the reflective metallic curves and contours of his helmet. Din slowly leans in, carefully eases his arm under yours and wraps tight around your lower back to bring you closer to his side. You sigh and press up against him, your palm creeping up the damp fabric wrapped around his throat. The visor doesn’t leave you, even when your temple comes to rest against his pauldron. No, he just allows the smooth metal covering his forehead to gently touch yours for a moment and hold there. Both of you tucked away in the middle of a hidden paradise, standing in front of a gorgeous monument crafted by the hands of the Maker himself.

And, like the two starry eyed idiots you are, neither one of you can seem to look away from the other.

You mouth a silent thank you to him, hoping he can read the heartfelt candor from your lips. Something tells you your message was received, because his grip tightens. As if in slow motion, his whole body lazily drops down just enough to scoop you up with an arm hooked under your knees—before Din suddenly rockets upwards.

You squeal and cling tight to his shoulders as he lifts you up higher, and higher—he slowly rises across the considerable length of the lake and closer to the falling water. You’re already beyond drenched but as he gradually approaches the base of the falling water, it starts raining down and splashing you in buckets.

Once he’s near enough to the powerful, arcing column pouring over the long rocky edge, Din carefully spins around and hovers until his back faces it, which means you can hide your nose and mouth from the splashes against the armor shielding his shoulder. He slowly rises up the length of the natural landmark and lets you watch the rushing water up close behind the safety of his body, sacrificing his own view so that yours can be all the better.

Eventually the falling waves break and you look down at the broad, gorgeous rapids flowing out towards you, the sun casting its dawning light over their foaming peaks. Din spins around and you adjust yourself accordingly against his chest, knowing you’ll never have a view like this again. He flies low along the river and you can see the colorful glass sparkling through the strong, yet completely transparent current. Soon he levels out and you cling tight to him, burying your face in the soaking wet fabric of the cowl wrapped around his neck and sighing, unable to recall a time you’ve ever been happier. It swells in your heart and warms your entire body even as it’s drenched in cool water, and you wonder again how he could’ve ever thought you were running from him. How could he ever think you’d run from him when all he’s ever done is give you wings?

***

The Crest hurdles through hyperspace while Din silently removes his armor and then strips you both of your sopping wet clothes. You remember your glass souvenirs at the very last second and carefully remove them from your pockets despite your closed eyes, reaching out to hand them to Din without looking. His palm catches the pebbles with the quiet sound of them clinking together, and you feel him pause for a second, probably studying them as he cradles them in the dim, single fluorescent light he left on.

You feel him leave you momentarily, hear him gently set them down someplace safe without a word. When he comes back and his warm arms snake around you once more, he lowers you down to the blankets and then proceeds to make the softest love to you he knows how on the floor of his ship.

A small part of you wishes you were still on Naboo, but somehow. Somehow, despite the dead quiet hull, it’s better than anything you can remember.

His naked body presses tight to yours, his mouth always open and tasting wherever you’ll let him venture, never letting you forget for a single second that he’s just as bare and exposed as you are. Your hands take full advantage, feeling everything. The strong, rippling muscles of his back as he props himself over you, the soft hair curling at his nape, the length of his spine shielding you from the rest of the ship, allowing you the opportunity to pretend you’re somewhere else if you really tried. If you tried, you could convince yourself you’ve got a mattress beneath you instead of a blanket draped over hard steel. You could convince yourself your eyes are open while he kisses you, despite knowing it’ll never be allowed.

But… you don’t. You don’t need to. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

And then at one point, his mouth is between your legs and you see a flash of his forehead on complete accident.

To see it on any other person would be nothing, it would mean absolutely nothing. It’s not like it somehow makes him anymore recognizable to you—plenty of people share the same exact features, you still wouldn’t know him out of a trillion different faces. He could walk right by you and you’d never know. Technically, it’s not even his face—it’s just a small fragment of it. But to you, the quickest glimpse of dark, wavy locks curtaining over the smooth, golden skin just below his hairline… it means everything to you. You sear it into your memory, right alongside the sight of crystalline water roaring over an enormous cliff edge.

You never tell him you saw. He never finds out.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #fanfic #reader insert

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supernaturalgirl20 · 3 years ago

Note

hi baby! if you’re taking requests might i indulge you in the scenario of Din where he captures you, the bounty, and you try to persuade him to let you be his “mechanic” instead, but like y’all wind up fucking 🙈🙈

You can choose how everything goes and add anything else you’d like love 💜💜

Thank you my dear for this delicious ask 🥰 I had loads of fun writing this 😏

Mechanic

Pairings: Din Djarin x reader

Warnings: Smut 18+, p in v smut, blowjob, Lil bit of dark!Din, cursing.

A/N: this is pure filth and I’m not sorry 😏 blame @anaaaispunk for fuelling the fire 😉

Sitting in the cantina, you scan your surroundings for immediate threats. Realising your ok, for now at least, you let out a sigh of relief. You’d lost count of the number of weeks you’ve been on the run, and for what, killing some ex empire general or something. You did them a favour really, pity no one else saw it that way. So here you are on another planet hiding. God I hope this isn’t going to be my life. It’s exhausting. You make your way to the bar and order another spotcha, the door to the cantina opens, nothing note worthy except the whole place goes dead quiet. Intrigued, you look to see what’s grabbed everyone’s attention. It’s like you’ve seen a ghost, except it’s not a ghost, it’s a man covered in a silver armour. Fuck! They sent a fucking mandalorian, they must be desperate now. You try to act normal, grab your drink and sit back at your table. Shivers run down your spine as he walks past. Closing your eyes, you wait, wait for him to point a blaster at your head, but it doesn’t come. Opening your eyes slowly, you see he walked right past you to another booth. He doesn’t even look in your direction. Maybe he’s not here for me after all. I’m just being paranoid.

***

It’s late when you finally leave the cantina, walking slowly back to the inn. There’s a tiredness in your bones and you can’t wait to lie in bed and finally get some sleep. Entering your room you switch on the light. When the room becomes illuminated you let outa scream.

“Jesus, what the fuck Mando, you scared the shit out of me. How did you know this was my room? Actually how did you get here before me, when I left you were still there sitting, stiff as a board.” You snigger at that.

“Are you done?”

“Oh lighten up, Tin can.”

You both just stare at each other, daring the other to make the first move. He’s on his feet and has you pinned to the door quicker than lightning.

“Not so smart now, are you?”

“Hhmm, I like where this is going, Mando, how did you know I like it rough?” You have a sly smirk and you quit laughing your eyebrow at him. You can hear him let out a sigh.

“We’ve been doing this for too long, you’ve had your fun, enough is enough. Time to bring you in.”

He lets go of you and stands back slightly.

“Get your things, your coming with me.”

He can see your shoulders drop a little, “fine you win.”

He’s stunned. Eyes wide in shock that you haven’t resisted harder. He’d expected you to. Silently hoped you would. Not that you could see, his face hidden behind the helmet.

“Do I have to cuff you? Or will you behave?”

“I promise I won’t run.” Pushing you in front of him, “walk.”

***

Walking towards the crest you ask Mando if you can freshen up. Pointing you in the direction of the fresher, he makes his way to the cockpit setting the coordinates. He doesn’t feel right about this, bringing you in. As far as he’s concerned you did the galaxy a favour. One less imp to deal with. Your worth a lot of credits though and bounties have been slow lately, the ship needs some repairs. He’s lost in his own head when you make your way towards him.

You slipped into something more “revealing” , a dress you’d picked up on tattooine. You put your hand on his pauldron and he looks up at you through his visor.

“Mando, do you really have to bring me in? I mean I’m a nobody, you could pretend I got away?” He is scowling at you under the helmet. “Ok I know, I wouldn’t get away from you, not believable. You killed me then?”. If you could see his face you would see the awe in his eyes. It’s like you can read his mind. You slide into his lap and straddle him. He doesn’t move, doesn’t touch you. You adjust yourself so your right over his hardening member. You swear he lets out a growl. Leaning into him you whisper beside where you think his ears are.

“You know, you could keep me….here..with you. I work as your mechanic, you need one right?”

“Do you even know anything about ships?”

“Eh..well no, but I’m a fast learner.”

“No.”

You slowly grind your hips over his cock. He grips the seat a little tighter, smiling to yourself you let out a low moan. He’s completely hard now, you can feel him at your core. Then an idea strikes. Biting your lip you lean into him again.

“I’m sure you could think of something for me to do. You know…like you!” His hand grips you hard, stopping you in your movements. His voice is harsh now.

“Enough!”

You slowly lean back so your face is directly in front of his visor. You need to try something else!

Slowly, you lift up your dress, revealing your dripping cunt to him. You hear him take in a breath. Placing two fingers in your mouth you suck on them before moving them downward. Once you reach your aching core you slip them inside, moaning at the sensation.

“Oh god…yes…just that like that Mando…yes….fuck me so good.” Without warning he pulls your fingers out, brings them to his helmet, lifts the bottom revealing his mouth. That mouth, Jesus he has a moustache. He sucks them clean before placing the helmet back down fully. Suddenly he stands, gripping your ass tightly. You wrap your legs around his waist as his walks towards the ladder. Putting you down, “go down, put these on, and wait.” He hands you his magnetised cuffs. Unable to speak you just nod in understanding.

Once you secure the cuffs, your suddenly drenched in darkness. What the? A hand grips you around the neck, pushing you towards the wall of the ship. Your arms are placed over your head and secured to the wall. “Think you can tease me do you, that you can fuck your way free, is that it?”

His voice it’s so deep, even without the modulator. Then it finally dawns on you, he’s helmet-less. His stubble is rough against your skin, sending heat straight bro your core. You try moving your hips against him, but he grips your waist tight stopping you.

“Ah ah, you’ve been a bold girl, bold girls don’t get to come.”

“Do you think you deserve to stay here with me, for me to forgo my credits on you?”

“Yes, Mando please, I’ll do anything.”

“I’m going to release your hand now, your going to be a good girl and get on your knees.”

When he releases your hands you drop straight to the ground. He pulls his pants down, grips you at the back of your head and brings you toward his cock. “Your going to take my cock in your mouth aren’t you pretty girl? Show me how badly you want to stay with me!”

He tilts his head back and groans as he feels your hot, wet mouth take him in. You run your tongue up the length of him and tease around the tip. He’s desperate for release, having you tease him all night, so he shoves his cock further into your mouth and begins fucking your face.

“That’s it pretty girl, your doing…so well….taking my cock like that.”

He comes down the back of your throat and you swallow it all. He steps back, stripping completely before he lifts you to your feet. He moves you to his cot and rips your dress off you. You let out a slight squeal as the cool air hits your bare skin.

“Can you take off the cuffs please?”

“Only if you promise not to touch?”

“I promise.”

Once he removes them you go to rub the skin on your wrists. He stops you and brings them to his lips and gently kisses around them. “Did I hurt you?”

“No it’s ok, I’ve had worse.”

“I bet you have.”

“Hands over you head, remember no touching.”

He kisses around your neck, slowly kissing his way down, over your breasts, taking a nipple in his mouth and sucking hard. You moan at the sensation of his stubble on your bare breasts. He moves down again, begins kissing your inner thighs, your a writhing mess below him. He licks a strip over your folds before shoving his tongue inside. Your body is tingling all over. There’s a heat in your core threatening to combust. Hey sucks on your clit before pumping two fingers inside you. He takes you over the edge and…pulls away.

“No! Why did you stop. Please please I need you Mando. Fuck me.”

He hovers over you and kisses you gently on the lips.

“Din.”

“Hmm what?”

“My name….it’s Din. I want you to know what to call me when you come.”

“Din, it suits you. Now fuck me.”

He lines himself up and fills you completely with one thrust.

“Fuck….so tight….take me…so well.”

He grabs your leg and wraps it around his hip, giving him a better angle. His thrusts are hard and fast and you come screaming his name.

“Fuck, Din….yes.”

You move your hands down to gently hold his face and he freezes. You forgot yourself, caught up in the moment, forgetting he asked for you not to touch him. You reckon it’s something to do with his creed. Worried he will pull away from you, you go to pull your hands away.

“I’m sorry, no touching.”

He kisses you gently on the lips. Grabbing your hand in his own, he slowly brings it back to his face. He closes his eyes at the feeling of you there. Something he hasn’t felt since he was a child. “It’s ok.”

He kisses you again before thrusting into you again. He’s slower this time and you feel all of him now, every ridge, every vein, it’s so intimate even though you can’t see him. Your coming hard again in no time, cunt clenching him tight as he spills inside you. He rolls off you and pulls you into his side.

“So does this mean I can stay?!”

“I suppose. I might need more convincing.”

You laugh as you straddle him, “you better buckle up so, your in for a long night.”

Tagging:

Everything: @lunaserenade @day-off-inkyoto @librariantothejedi @seasonschange-butpeopledont @elinedjarin @maievdenoir @pascal-rascal424 @kirsteng42 @thorins-queen-of-erebor @dihra-vesa @loserrlauraa @asta-lily @absurdthirst @ikinmahlen @javierpinme

Din Djarin: @agingerindenial @covidihateu

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian smut #pedro pascal x female reader

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elliesguitarstrings · 4 years ago

Text

Just Friends

Masterlist

Pairing: Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Summary: You and Tom haven’t seen each other since filming Uncharted, and you decide to surprise him at his Jimmy Kimmel interview. Although you’ve always been “just friends,” you can’t help but think there’s something more.

A/N: Hey y’all sorry it’s been a few days since I last posted, I’ve just been super stressed with school and stuff, but I actually really like this fic and I hope you guys like it too!

Warnings: Language, fluff, angst if you squint

WC: 2.4k

~~~~~~~~

It’s been months since you and Tom last saw each other in person.

While filming Uncharted, the two of you had become extremely close, hanging out in each other’s trailers and spending all of your free time together. In such a short period, you had become best friends, but neither of you could deny the spark of something more. Unfortunately, the two of you never got to explore that spark because of the short time limit. After wrapping, you and Tom went your separate ways, him to Atlanta to film Spiderman 3, and you back to your hometown for a well-deserved break.

That doesn’t mean you two haven’t stayed in contact though. You and Tom have texted and facetimed almost every day since you parted ways, or as much as his busy filming schedule allows. Throughout this time, however, you never seemed to discuss the obvious love connection between you two. Without actually speaking about it, you both seemed to agree that that conversation would be better to have in person.

This bring us to today, where Tom is backstage at Jimmy Kimmel, anxiously waiting for his interview segment of the show. He picks up his phone and decides to text you before he goes on to settle his nerves, wishing you were here to comfort him in person.

T: Are you watching the show yet?

Y: yep I already have my tv turned to abc! are you going on soon?

T: Yeah, I’m so nervous though

Y: why? you’ve been on the show before and you’re like amazing at interviews

T: Idk, Jimmy just said “be ready for a surprise” and he looked really suspicious so I’m scared

T: I just hope they don’t bring like Jennifer Aniston out or something because I would totally freeze and make a fool out of myself

Y: lmao that would be kinda funny tho, but I’m sure you have nothing to worry about

T: Okay we’ll see haha

T: Gtg I’m on in 10, I’ll facetime you after I’m done!

Y: kk, good luck tommy :)

T: Ahh thank you!!

What Tom doesn’t know is that you are ten times more nervous than him. While he’s under the impression that you’re sitting on your living room couch watching the show, you are actually in the dressing room down the hall from him.

Last month, when Tom told you he was going to be on Jimmy Kimmel to promote Cherry, you had the idea to surprise him. You emailed Jimmy not expecting a response, but to your surprise, he actually emailed you back and loved your idea.

So, here you are, waiting backstage and shaking with anticipation to surprise Tom. To be completely honest, you’re even more nervous now that you know Tom is expecting some big star like Jennifer Aniston, who you know has always been his biggest celebrity crush. But nonetheless, you shake off the nerves as best as you can, just hoping everything goes well.

“Please welcome our first guest… Tom Holland everyone!” you hear Jimmy’s voice over the speaker in your dressing room.

Now that Tom is on stage, you can safely leave the room without him seeing you, and you head to the side stage, waiting for your cue.

Tom and Jimmy talk about Cherry for a few minutes, and you can’t help but admire him. His voice, his face, his outfit, everything about him is just perfect. And even better, he’s here in person, closer than he’s been to you in a long time. It takes every ounce of self-control in you to stop yourself from running onstage and hugging him now. ‘Only a minute longer,’ you tell yourself.

“So, other than Cherry, what other upcoming projects are you working on?” Jimmy inquires onstage.

Almost there…

“Well, as most of you know,” Tom addresses the audience, “I’m filming Spiderman 3 right now, which has been going brilliantly. It’s definitely going to be the best one of all the Spiderman movies I’ve done. And I just wrapped on a film called Uncharted a few months ago in Berlin, which was so much fun.”

“Ooh, Uncharted, tell us more about that!"

“Yeah, well it’s based on the video game, and I play the main character, Nathan Drake, who’s on a quest throughout the film. It’s a lot like Spiderman in a way, with all the stunts and stuff, and I think it’s going to turn out great, I can’t wait to see it finished.”

“That sounds like a lot of fun! And if I’m not mistaken, you seem to have met a certain Y/N Y/L/N while filming?”

“Oh, Y/N, yeah, she’s great,” he starts to gush, and you immediately smile, “we became friends super fast, and I miss her so much. I wish she could be here right now, but she’s watching from home actually, so hey Y/N!” he looks directly at the camera and waves, as if he’s waving to you through the screen.

That’s your cue. You tiptoe onstage behind Tom, trying your best to shush the immediate gasps from the audience.

“Well Tom,” Jimmy smiles, “I think your wish may have come true.”

“Huh?” Tom looks around, confused, until his eyes land on you, and he completely freezes.

“Hey Tom,” you smile.

“Y/N! Holy shit! You’re here, you’re actually here!” he exclaims, not caring that he just cursed on live TV.

Tom immediately springs off the couch and sprints to you, arms outstretched. As soon as he reaches you, he picks you up in a tight hug and spins you around, both of you laughing. He sets you down, but still keeps you in a tight embrace, not pulling away until neither of you can breathe. He steps backwards to take you in, still trying to fathom that you’re actually here, with him, after all this time.

“Y/N, wha-, how? I thought you were at your house!” Tom can barely form a sentence, smiling wider than ever and completely out of breath.

“Eh, my house was boring. I thought it would be more fun here with you,” you smile.

He pulls you in again, whispering, “I missed you so fucking much.”

“You have no idea,” you whisper back, resting your forehead on his.

The two of you lock eyes, and for a moment, it’s like you are the only two people in the world. You both start to lean in, lips almost touching, when Jimmy interjects.

“Alright, you two, while that was very sweet, we do still have the rest of the show to get through, so why don’t you come sit down,” Jimmy laughs, bringing you and Tom back to reality.

“Right, of course,” Tom responds, trying his best to keep cool in front of the audience.

Tom ushers you to the couch, keeping one hand on the small of your back as he follows you. He keeps his arm around you when you sit, staying as close to you as possible without raising any more suspicions from the audience.

“So, you two, huh?” Jimmy smirks.

“What? Oh, no, Jimmy, we- we’re just friends,” you laugh trying your best to hide the obvious blush on your cheeks.

“I don’t know, that seemed like a little more than just friend behavior to me over there,”

“What do you expect, I haven’t seen her in half a year!” Tom exclaims, saving you from more embarrassment.

“Okay, okay, fine. Just friends,” he turns to the camera and winks, earning laughs from the audience.

“Anyways Y/N, we already talked about Tom, so tell us about you! How was your experience filming Uncharted?” thankfully, Jimmy moves on.

“Well, up until this point I had only really done small indie films, so it was definitely a major change. But Tom was so nice in helping me and it actually turned out to be such an amazing experience, probably the most fun I’ve ever had filming a movie…”

You go on for a few more minutes, talking to Jimmy about your role in Uncharted and your career in general, exchanging small glances with Tom, who just sat back and listened, completely entranced by you.

“Alright, well thank you so much for coming Y/N, it was great to have you! I’m afraid I have to keep Tom for a few more minutes for our next segment, but you’ll have him all to yourself soon enough,” Jimmy smiles.

You laugh, “Thank you so much for having me Jimmy, it was such a pleasure!”

You stand up and hug both Jimmy and Tom, giving Tom a small peck on the cheek before you walk offstage, waving to the audience as you leave.

You smile all the way back to your dressing room, completely overjoyed that you were successful in surprising Tom. As soon as you sat down on the small couch, not even two minutes after you walked offstage, your phone starts blowing up with notifications.

You see that your best friend texted you, so you check that first.

BFF: so you and tom huh? girl why didn’t you tell me?????

Y: what no???

Y: we’re just friends!!

BFF: that’s not what literally all of twitter thinks

Y: wdym? they don’t know anything

BFF: go check rn, i’m telling you they’re going batshit crazy over you two

You check Twitter and immediately see the fans already going crazy over you and Tom.

“just friends”????? bullshit did y’all see the way they almost KISSED?????

TOM AND Y/N I SHIP I SHIP I SHIP

did y’all see the way tom looked at y/n? he’s totally in love omg

UGH I’M SO JEALOUS AKSDHJSAHDSHD I WANT TO BE Y/N SO BAD

they’re so cute help omg

THE WAY Y/N FLEW OUT TO CALIFORNIA JUST TO SURPRISE TOM??? JUST FRIENDS MY ASS

Were you really being that obvious? You quickly call your friend, looking for some advice on what to do, and she picks up right away.

“Okay you were right, they’re going absolutely insane,” you start.

“I mean what do you expect y’all almost kissed on live tv!”

“Shut up.”

“Come onnnnn Y/N, I know you like him and he obviously likes you too so just talk to him! You already know that you two would be the cutest fucking couple ever. Plus you already have the approval of twitter what more could you need?”

You laugh, but you’re still hesitant.

“I don’t know, what if he doesn’t like me back?

“HE. ALMOST. KISSED. YOU. ON. LIVE. FUCKING. TELEVISON. I THINK HE LIKES YOU BACK BITCH!”

“Okay first of all we didn’t almost kiss, and second of all I don’t want to ruin our friendship. Plus how would I even tell him?”

“Okay YES YOU DID ALMOST KISS! And this isn’t middle school! Just tell him how you feel.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Think about what?”

You whip around and see Tom standing at your dressing room door.

“Fuck I gotta call you back,” you whisper, quickly hanging up the phone.

You turn back to Tom, still standing in the doorway.

“How much of that did you hear?” you ask, blushing profusely.

“Um, all of it I think,” Tom looks down and you immediately start to freak out.

Tom, however, looks back up at you and smirks.

“So you like me huh?”

You stay silent for a moment, a billion thoughts running through your head. You contemplate denying it and staying just friends with Tom. But then you think back to what your best friend told you just a second ago.

“Just tell him how you feel.”

“Yeah Tom. I like you. And not as a friend. This isn’t really the way I intended on telling you, and I get if you don’t feel the same way, but the way I feel about you isn’t just platonic. There’s a connection between us that I felt since the day we met and I can’t help but think that you feel it too. And then today it just got, like, ten times stronger and I-“

Tom promptly cuts you off by cupping your jaw and placing his lips on yours, sending a rush throughout your entire body. His lips feel like heaven, moving ever so gently against yours, and again, it feels like you two are the only people on Earth. The kiss is warm and loving, and although it doesn’t last long, the moment has already been engraved in your mind for eternity.

He pulls back, looking into your eyes, making sure he hasn’t made a mistake, but you only stare back at him ten times more lovingly.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” he whispers.

“Me too,” you whisper back.

He takes your hands in his, “Y/N, I do feel that connection, and I want us to be more than just friends. I always have.”

As much as you are relieved that Tom feels the same way, you can’t help but worry.

“What about the distance? Are you sure we can handle that?”

“Of course we can,” Tom assures you, “I don’t care how far away we are from each other, I love you, and I’m never letting any amount of distance take that away.”

“But these past few months have been so hard without you, and we haven’t even been dating, I just- I don’t want to be apart from you anymore.”

“Then move in with me. Come to London and live with me!”

“Okay,” you grin.

“Wait, really?” Tom questions, taken aback.

“Yeah, why not? I mean, obviously we won’t be able to be together all the time because of our jobs, but it’ll be the closest thing.”

“Are you sure? That’s a big commitment to move that far.”

“I’m positive Tom. You’re my best friend, and now, I guess you’re my boyfriend,” you giggle, “I love you too, and I want to be with you, even if that means moving thousands of miles to London.”

Tom smiles, “You called me your boyfriend.”

“Shut up you dork, come here.”

You pull him in for another kiss, still feeling like you’re floating. Your lips once again move perfectly together, as if they’re made for each other. You’re completely consumed in him, and him in you, and in this moment, you know that he is the only one for you. In this moment, you know that you want to spend the rest of your life with him, and only him, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

~~~~~~~~

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#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland angst #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland x actress!reader #actress!reader #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot

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a-dorin · 4 years ago

Text

mishap

pairing: din djarin x reader

word count: 1.402k

warnings: angst, cursing, spoilers, spoilers, spoilers for chapter fifteen (u have been warned !!!) a lil bit of crying, some yelling, slight canon divergence from chapter fifteen

a/n: hey y’all. i don’t really have much to say about this one other than to avoid it because it contains spoilers from chapter fifteen. this is a very self-indulgent blurb/fic too ahah. i hope you guys like it! :’))

“you know,” an elbow gently digs into your rib-cage, “he’s quite the looker. you got yourself a good one.”

you pause, nearly tripping over your own two feet, “what are you talking about?”

migs mayfield arches a brow, “oh shit. i -- uh, uhm.”

“you were the one who retrieved the coordinates, right?”

mayfield hesitates, bringing a hand to the back of his neck, “yeah, yeah. i was the one who retrieved the coordinates. your uh -- lover boy was the one who stood guard.”

your gaze darts over to the mandalorian only a few steps ahead, the beskar gleaming as rays of light filtered in through the leaves, “mayfield, is there something you’re not telling me?”

a twig snaps under his foot, causing him to stiffen, “no, no. the mission was a success. we managed to get what we needed, then we got out.”

“right,” you affirm, “was there a reason why you complimented di-- mando, then?”

“oh you know,” mayfield shrugs, “you know what they say. there’s always beauty beneath the helmet. he probably has some luscious locks of golden--”

“no one fucking says that,” you snort, readjusting the blaster situated in your belt, “listen, if there’s something you’re not telling me, i won’t hesitate to tell them to take your ass right back to garbage planet.”

“garbage planet,” mayfield scoffs, “yeah, i’m jumping for joy to return to that shit show.”

clenching your jaw, you can’t help but notice din as he strides towards the two of you, fennec and cara in tow. fennec is quiet, lips etched together in a solemn frown while cara carries a smug smirk on her face. almost as if she was about to deal out a brutal blow to the prisoner now turned comrade.

boba fett’s ship was stationed nearly a few hundred feet away, hatch opened, ready for the next step of the plan. as much as you wanted to focus on retrieving grogu, as much as you needed to maintain a level-head, you couldn’t.

there was something about the way mayfield seemed so sincere only minutes ago that had your mind reeling, anxiety, confusion, and hurt bubbling up.

did din really break his own creed?

fennec shoulders past the huddle, sharing a brief moment of eye contact with you. her brow furrowed with concern, but she kept moving, sauntering over to the ship.

“i wanted to thank you for your help,” din’s tone is nearly monotone, yet, you can sense an inflection of gratitude.

“it wasn’t a problem,” mayfield dips his head.

“i never realized that you were such a good shot,” cara chuckles.

“oh, you saw that?” mayfield’s eyes widen, lips curling into a cheeky grin, “what happened back there was from a lot of pent up stuff. besides, don’t you have to arrest me or something? you guys got a kid to save.”

“not any kid,” cara cuts in, motioning her head towards din, “his kid.”

“well no shit officer,” mayfield rolls his eyes, droning on, “good luck, and i mean that.”

“you know,” cara swivels on her heel, folding her arms across her chest, “it’s a real shame that the prisoner died in that explosion.”

in an instant, you notice the way mayfield’s entire demeanor shifts. his lips part, the smile broadening, “w-what? what are you talking about?”

“yeah,” din adds, placing a hand on mayfield’s shoulder, “what a shame.”

mayfield gives the three of you once last look of gratitude, cara clearing her throat, “so, what’s our next move?”

din exhales, “we move forward.”

within minutes, boba is punching in coordinates to your next destination. however, something about the aura that filled the air told you that you were not traveling for grogu quite yet. the air was still, almost stagnant, nowhere near the static, adrenaline-inducing battle preparation you were used to. the tiny ship was quiet, the hum of the engine white noise in your ears.

it feel as if there were just a few more loose ends to tie up. a few more pit-stops.

the quiet before the storm.

din was in close proximity, one hand on your thigh, the other resting on his helmet. fennec sat in the cockpit with boba, filling him in on the run-in while cara joined them, providing you and din with a little bit of privacy.

which, you already knew what happened. there was almost nothing to say.

“you’re quiet.”

his voice, so calm and cool, brings you to reality, away from the thoughts tormenting your mind.

“it’s been a long day,” the words were nearly silent, barely a mumble.

din coughs, hand squeezing your thigh, “you don’t have to lie to me.”

“mayfield said something,” it takes everything in you to keep your eyes off him, to keep staring at the metallic floor, “it just rubbed me the wrong way.”

“what did he say?”

you bite your lip, formulating some sort of way to say it. to say what you want to say without sounding selfish.

“um,” you inhale sharply, “he said you were good-looking. and that i was lucky to have a man like you.”

you stiffen as din chuckles. yet, it’s strained, almost forced, “did you believe it?”

“i don’t think he’s a liar.”

“he’s a--”

“was there a mishap back there? did something happen that no one else is supposed to be aware of?”

tears brim your lids, shame burning through you. maker, were you so selfish for this. for accusing din of abandoning a creed he’d known his whole life. the hand slides off your thigh, settling on his own lap.

silence overcomes the space, eerie and unforgiving.

there’s a clink of beskar as din leans his head back, his posture so painfully still.

“there was a mishap. things weren’t going as planned. i had to--”

“you don’t have to continue,” you shake your head, “i knew it the moment mayfield let it slip. i can’t imagine how awful that was.”

“i’m surprised you’re taking it so well,” his voice is hushed, “you’ve been begging me for months to see one glimpse of my face. just one. yet, it was a necessary cause. it was so that they could get a scan of my face, for the coordinates.”

“so the imperials know what you look like too?” a single tear rolls down your cheek, splattering on the fabric of your trousers.

“i’m not sure about that one.”

“i see,” you whisper, shifting away from din.

“hey,” his hand hovers above your knee, “you can tell me how frustrated you are about this. i know it’s a sensitive subject between us. if anything, i wish it was you in there with me. but it was just the cards we were dealt, okay? there was nothing i could do.”

lifting your head, eyes connect with the inky black visor, “were you scared?”

“terrified.”

there was something about his voice, how it seemed so broken and vulnerable. this was a man donned in one of the most resilient, most strong material of the galaxy, who was stripped away of his familiarity, a simple, three-word creed that had shaped his entire existence.

your heart shatters at the mere thought of how utterly terrified din must had been, how he flinched when the imperials spoke to him. how his eyes probably darted between mayfield and the nearest exit, desperate and guilty.

a way out. a way of the gut-wrenching feeling that was threatening to consume him whole.

yet, din sacrificed those mere minutes of vulnerability in order to save his child. grogu, the tiny creature who he had grown an immense attachment to.

and maker, how you loved din immensely for making that sacrifice.

leaning forward you press your forward, nearly flinching at the cool sensation, “i’m sorry.”

a hand cups the back of your skull, “you don’t have to be sorry.”

“i just can’t even imagine how surreal it all felt to show your face in front of--”

“it’s over now,” he murmurs, “it was nothing compared to the fear that consumed me when i left you with grogu at those rocks. i thought they took you too. i was petrified, cyar’ika, absolutely petrified.”

“they still have him, ya know,” your lashes flutter as you let out a shaky breath, “we still have a long road ahead of us, din.”

“i know, and as long as i have you by my side, i know i can do anything.”

#mandalorian #the mandalorian #din djarin #star wars #star wars x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x reader #mando #angst

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winterscaptain · 4 years ago

Text

tell.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: i cannot tell yall how long i have been working on this one, so i'll save it. thanks to @ssaic-jareau for hanging in there with me as i pulled late nights to make this happen over the weekend!! i love you!! i know it's broad daylight for you while im being irresponsible, but i appreciate it nevertheless. let me know what you think, my lovelies! i cherish your thoughts!

words: 7.4k warnings: language, discussion of sex, canon-typical case events

summary: “we are not people who touch each other carelessly; every point of contact between us feels important, a rush of energy and relief.” veronica roth, allegiant. au!may 2012

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

It’s always tough to spend time away from home when you aren’t on a case, but a conference kept you from your boys the last couple of days, on Strauss’s request. Aaron was none too happy about it, but as the junior-most agent in the unit (even with five years under your belt), the shitty seminars and professional development events fell on your shoulders.

Even though you landed early in the morning, flying coach all the way back from California, there was a whole day with Jack waiting for you and Aaron upon your return. A rare Saturday - no case, no paperwork, just family.

You knock on the door with a knuckle, unable to reach your keys around your bags and breakfast.

Aaron opens the door with a “Hey!” coated in laughter, kissing your cheek. He’s still in his pajamas.

You squint at him. “Am I early?”

He snorts. “Never. We’re running late.” He takes the takeout bags and coffee from your hands. “Thank you for breakfast.”

“Of course. I wanted -”

Jack runs across the apartment and slams into you full force. “You’re home!”

You curl around him, your hands on his head and shoulder as he cuddles into you. “I am! I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.”

His voice is muffled by your shirt and it makes you smile. You glance at Aaron over Jack’s head to find a smile.

“Come look at our fort!” Jack, wearing a blanket cape, takes you by the hand and brings you into the dining room, where the dining room table has been turned into a massive fort fit for a king.

Or, rather, two kings.

“Oh my goodness, Jack. This is incredible, little bug. Your architectural prowess knows no bounds.” You look up at Aaron from your place on the floor. “Where’s your cape?”

His deadpan, as usual, never fails to make you laugh. “Uh, I’m wearing it.”

Jack continues to drag you all the way under the table until you’re laying on your bellies in the little slap-dash shelter.

Aaron flops down on the floor on the other side of Jack. “We slept in here all night.”

“Really? That sounds like so much fun.”

What you mean is, What, with your bad back?

“Mmhmm,” he replies, only to really say -

Yep. I feel like shit.

“Can we sleep in here again tonight, Dad?” Jack asks, turning to Aaron. “All together?”

You exchange a glance with Aaron, who laughs.

So much for grown-up plans...

+++

You’re both scrambling to get ready for the bike ride across the mall and day at the Smithsonian when the phone call comes in.

“Hotchner,” Aaron says, still at the counter, tucking his phone under his chin as he finishes packing the rest of the picnic basket.

He freezes, hastily bagging some carrots and putting them in the basket before holding the phone in his hand and leaning heavily against the counter. “You’re kidding.”

That’s not a good tone.

Jack looks up at you, and you rest your hands on his chest over his shoulders, backing him into you as you watch Aaron with your lip between your teeth.

“Did they raise the terror alert?”

Shit.

“Okay. That’s for the best. Um…” He checks his watch. “I’ll get down there now. Yeah….Do you need the rest -”

With a huff, he meets your eyes and nods.

You let out a sigh and kiss Jack’s head. He knows the drill and runs off for your phone, still charging in the bedroom.

“Understood, ma’am. I’ll be there first. We gotta get Jack squared away but I’ll get going while -” He pauses, probably interrupted by Strauss again. “Thank you...Yes...I’ll be there as soon as I can and the rest of the team will meet at the scene.”

You know that also means you. You also can’t ignore the prick of anxiety that shoots through your belly, knowing he’ll likely be in danger without you for at least a half-hour.

Jack returns with your phone, Jessica already on the line.

+++

Aaron, of course, leaves right away while you wait for Jess.

You sit on the couch with Jack. “I’m so sorry, buddy. We’ll have to do a big day, just the three of us, another time.”

Jack shrugs. “It’s okay. Sometimes you just gotta catch the bad guys.”

The offhand nature of his understanding strikes you as instantly hilarious, and he laughs with you when you double over, wiping tears from your eyes.

“Yeah. Sometimes you just do, kiddo.”

+++

When you finally arrive at the scene, Dave’s already set up hostage negotiation. You cross the street, finding Will and JJ huddled with Emily and Derek.

“You okay?” You ask, placing your hand on Will’s shoulder. He’s not just JJ’s not-husband. He’s your friend, too, all on his own.

“Yeah, jus’ fine.” He shakes his head. “Jus’ a little rattled, is all.”

“Understandable.”

His mouth presses into a thin line as he exhales. “Thanks.” He checks his watch. “Y’all should get on back. I think Strauss just showed up.”

JJ kisses his cheek and trots off to meet the rest of the unit. After another hug for Will, you follow suit.

+++

“The media's calling them the Face Cards. Seven bank robberies in seven months. They've killed one person at each robbery.” Aaron leads the rest of you to the trailer, where the monitors are all set up.

Dave furrows his brow. “M. O.?”

“Single gunshot wound. Each of the victims has bled out.”

That doesn’t make much sense.

You jump in. “Serial killers with a 30-day cooling-off period and we're only just hearing about this now?”

“Well, headquarters has always characterized them robbers first and killers second,” Aaron replies, glancing back at you. You roll your eyes.

Of course they did.

“No one kills seven people without serious psychopathic tendencies,” Spencer notes. He’s more than right, and you thought the same thing - it’s almost like he took the words out of your mouth.

“I disagreed with the original assessment. I was overruled.” Aaron’s bland version of frustration is clear in his tone, but he knows, just as you do, that ship has sailed. All you can do now is handle what’s in front of you.

“So why are we here now?” Dave asks.

“Because crisis negotiation is overseas.”

Aaron starts to walk again as JJ asks after more information. Aaron usually rattles it off pretty quickly, but with the quick start this morning, you know he trusts the rest of you to ask the questions you need. “What more do we know about them?

“They're organized, they're efficient. Each strike lasts about two minutes.”

Derek, walking beside you, finally joins the conversation. “They gotta be scouting the banks in advance. Why haven't we been able to identify them off of surveillance footage?”

“They hack the security feed and turn off the cameras, both during the initial canvass and during the robbery, until the masks come back on, and then we're allowed to watch.” Aaron leads you all into the tactical staging truck, watching the security feeds.

+++

As you continue to watch, the scene becomes clearer, the power dynamics more tangible.

Dave sees it, too. “They're using the hostages as human shields.”

JJ, with Will beside her, studies the footage, watching the Queen run around while the King finds himself preoccupied with the Jack’s wound. “This is the first time they've been interrupted. What went wrong?”

“It's a big bank,” Emily says. “It's possible they weren't about to round everybody up before someone triggered an alarm.”

That’s a fair point, but you ask your question anyway. “Why haven't they cut the feed now that they've been cornered?”

Derek, still beside you, answers. “Letting us see inside gives up a tactical advantage. They gotta know that.”

They don't seem to care,” Aaron says, from your other side.

You’re all silent for another minute, watching to see what happens next. Even though their plans went awry, the team still looks fairly calm and collected, all things considered.

JJ’s frown only deepens. “They're overconfident. Arrogant, even.”

“The face card masks add to their narcissism.” Spencer’s voice comes from the end of the line. “Their personas are the royalty of poker.”

You nod - it’s a great point - while Aaron starts making assignments.

“JJ, Reid, and Prentiss, look at past robberies. That's gonna be our victimology. Pull another analyst if you need to.” He turns to you, then Dave, on his other side. “I want you two to handle negotiations. And, Morgan, strategize tactical options with MPD.”

You shuffle, gathering your radio and earpiece from the charger next to Penelope’s computer.

When the rest of the team leaves, you hang back with Dave, keying into the radio channels and standing by for further instruction - you know there’s more for you in the trailer at the moment.

Further instruction, though, may have to wait. Strauss climbs the steps into the rig and Aaron greets her. “Chief Strauss.”

“The Director ordered me to supervise your operation.”

Of course he did.

“Puts you right in the spotlight,” Dave says, not unkindly. It’s almost fond.

You can’t help but hold back a little bit of a smile. If the situation were reversed and it was Aaron at the helm, you’d be proud of him, too.

“Well, you've got gunmen with hostages in the Capital. The Hill's concerned.”

Aaron nods, gesturing to you and Dave. “We're about to open lines of communication.”

“What about a tactical assault?”

The three of you shake your heads as Aaron responds. “I don't think it's a good idea. There are hostages in front of the doors and windows.”

Erin, finally onboard, turns to Dave. “What's your negotiation strategy?”

“The Jack's bleeding out. They'll ask for medical attention.”

You hum, a little skeptical, and look back at the feed. “The female unsub might have something to say about that. Look at her body language.”

Dave follows your gaze. “She is cold and detached. The King seems genuinely concerned about his partner's welfare. But she couldn't give a damn.”

Your eyebrows raise. “The men probably know each other.”

Aaron, picking up on your train of thought, flags Penelope, “Garcia?”

She turns in her chair, already typing. “Shuffling my techno-fabulous deck of databases, sir.”

And so it begins.

+++

“I’ll do the talking - I’ll need to establish some rapport with them, but I’ll need you keeping the team updated and coordinating any allowances or personnel as things come up, okay?”

You nod, a little smile pulling at the side of your mouth. “You got it.”

Dave claps your shoulder. “You’ll be in this chair one day, so pay attention.”

“Yes, sir.”

He dials in and the phone starts ringing through the speaker. You’ll be able to hear everything.

“Who the hell's this?” You check the monitor. The King picked up the phone.

Obviously, the Jack can’t pick up the phone, stupid, he’s bleeding out!

“My name is David Rossi. I'm with the FBI. To whom am I speaking?”

The King doesn’t address the question, but rather looks back toward his fallen compatriot. “All right, I want a doctor sent in, and then I want out of here.”

Dave checks his watch. “Well, we certainly can discuss that. Let the hostages go and we'll give you all the medical help you need.”

You take a mental note. Your memories from Dave’s lectures at the academy are fuzzy at best, and you haven’t had very much time handling these things in the field. The last time a major hostage crisis was at hand, you were a hostage yourself.

A shot hostage, if the chronic nerve pain in your shoulder is any reminder.

“I can't do that. I need the leverage.”

“How about a sign of good faith? Send out the women and children and I'll see what I can do.”

You watch as the King takes the phone away from his mouth. You can vaguely hear him update the Queen, but she’s not having it. She pulls a child from the lineup and your lower lip disappears between your teeth.

A man, you presume the girl’s father, speaks to the Queen before she shoots him in the abdomen. The King gets back on the line.

“You better send in some more help or more people are gonna die.” He hangs up.

Shit.

+++

“You’re not seriously considering sending an agent in there?” You turn on Hotch and he sighs, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“We don’t have much of a choice. I’m not the authority on-site and with the director pressing Strauss, there’s not much I can do.”

The two of you are alone for the time being, so you’re able to rib him for a second to lighten the tension.

“What’s the point of being unit chief if you can’t lord it over everyone all the time?”

You're rewarded with a shadow of a smile and a snort. “Don’t be ridiculous. I lord it over you plenty.”

“Not enough.” Your tone is childish, the words murmured under your breath.

When he walks away, he taps the side of your ass with the back of his hand. If you weren’t in a professional setting, you could mistake it for a promise.

But, Aaron, that would be unprofessional!

You turn to look at him and just catch his wink as he hops up the steps behind Strauss.

+++

With Garcia’s magic and Aaron’s genius, you figure out that the men are related.

While Rossi hops on the next phone call, you help Derek outfit the medic with a bug and a weapon.

“We're sending in the medic now, Chris. Tell Oliver help is on the way.”

Derek nods at the medic and he hops off, heading into the bank. You jog over to the trailer only to find a humorously horrified look on Strauss’s face.

“Is she…”

You get closer, looking up at the monitor.

“...putting on lipstick?”

You scoff. “She’s vain. Only contributes to a profile of vanity and narcissism. She likes to be seen - this is a game for her.”

You jog back out before Strauss can respond, taking your place between Aaron and Derek.

“Green. You gotta go. Green. Go,” Derek says into his mic.

The agent-turned-medic makes a move and immediately gets a shot between the eyes for his trouble. Your hand files over your mouth and Derek ducks away, taking a second.

Well, that couldn’t have been any worse.

You look at Aaron, still staring at the screen, beside you. He’s thinking the same thing.

+++

Derek walks up to you, kevlar and sunglasses firmly in place. “Tactical's been deployed, snipers are moving into position.”

At your questioning look, Strauss clarifies. “The Director's ordered a full tactical assault.”

The look doesn’t leave your face. “His last orders cost us an agent.”

Radio transmissions fly one ear and out the other, not to mention the flurry of activity around the negotiation tent. Before Strauss can reply, Will’s call shoots past you to Aaron.

“SWAT's getting itchy fingers.”

Aaron turns, covering his comm mic at his chest. “You remind SWAT that bank robberies are federal jurisdiction. No one fires until they're ordered to.”

“Right.”

Will disappears and you suppress a little pleased shudder. Aaron’s very much in control now and it is doing things to your body that are better suited for, well, anywhere else. You tighten the velcro across your chest as if to compress another rush of… nothing useful.

Aaron turns back to you, Dave, Derek, and Strauss. “All right, when the crossfire starts, what's gonna happen to the hostages caught in the middle?”

The question is a trap, and Dave doubles down. “That's the wrong call, Erin, and you know it.”

Strauss falters for a minute, leveling with the rest of you. “It's not my call.”

Aaron doesn’t let up. “You're here and you're in charge.” His tone is sharper than yours would be in the same situation, but you’re nearly fifteen years younger and a whole four steps down on the totem pole.

Not for the first time, a rush of affection and gratitude for him crests over your in a wave and you have to look away, taking a deep breath to collect yourself. When you look back, he’s watching you.

I’m okay.

He nods as Erin speaks again.

“So you want me to disobey the Director?” Erin sounds dubious, at best.

Dave responds quickly. “Yes.”

Aaron amends, and if the situation wasn’t so tense his correction would almost be funny. “No. I just want you to buy us a little time.” He pauses, wavering for a second as he rephrases. “Don't be quite so efficient.”

You’re never surprised by Aaron’s political savvy, but it is a nice reminder that he can run circles around every bureaucrat in the district if given the chance.

“Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast.”

+++

“It’s an impossible ask, Dave. You know JJ will never go for it.”

“It’s not up to JJ.” Aaron’s voice approaches from behind you. “It’s the director’s call, but mine first.”

He comes to rest beside you as Dave leaves the two of you alone.

“What are you gonna do?” You look at Aaron, finding his eyes trained on the monitor, arms crossed over his chest.

He sighs. “If it was you he asked for...”

You bump his shoulder. “What, not interested in feeding me to serial killers today?”

It’s a loaded joke, especially for the two of you, but after Emily, you’re past such things. If the situation were reversed, Haley would never stop giving you hell for getting serial-killed the way she did. It’s only fair to return the favor.

“Over my dead body, baby.” He reaches down to squeeze your hand for a second before letting you go. “Do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Stay here.”

+++

You can hear JJ’s anguished shouts from here, beside Dave and the phone.

Derek has a good enough hold on her, Emily and Aaron protecting him from JJ’s wild elbows. She’s beside herself but eventually breaks free and sprints back toward the trailer. You turn to follow her, just in time to hear a gunshot.

Will.

+++

You’re all gathered in the trailer as JJ asks the same questions over and over again. Garcia, just like the first time, doesn’t have any answers.

The static on the monitors is nearly deafening in its silence.

JJ looks at you for a moment and takes a shaky breath before looking at Hotch. Her eyes are red-rimmed and her voice is broken when she speaks. “Aaron.”

You know he’s never been able to deny her anything. In the entire time you’ve known him, it’s one of the few things that hasn’t changed.

His eyes don’t budge from hers. “We’re going in.”

+++

You press the heels of your hands to your eyes, trying to stem the stinging from the heat and debris. Your ears ring and you’ve got a scrape on your chin from where you face-planted into the asphalt.

Eventually, you remove your hands and open your eyes to the early summer sunshine. Your bias is clear enough - Aaron’s the first one you look for and the first one you find.

He’s looking a little dazed and more than a little ruffled, but alive.

Ignoring the whine in your ears and swiping some blood off your face, you jog over to him, taking stock of him from head to toe. “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer right away, and you realize he probably can’t hear you. An image of Kate reaching for you and the smell of blood flashes into your head, but you push it away.

His ear…

“Aaron?” You lay a hand on his shoulder and he startles a little, meeting your eyes and coming back to himself all at once.

He puts his hands on your shoulders, tipping your jaw up with one finger to examine your chin. “You’re hurt.”

“Honey, I’m fine. Your ear…” You follow a small trickle of blood up the side of his neck, rounding him to get a better look. Just as you’d feared, his bad ear is bleeding again.

He waves off your concern and taps his comm mic, calling for support in quick, clear soundbites. You snag the back of his vest before he can get too far away from you.

“As soon as you’re done with that, please get it looked at.”

With a sigh, he nods and gestures to your chin. “I will if you do.”

You roll your eyes.

“Where’s Emily?” You hear Morgan ask JJ as they get their bearings around you.

With a start, you follow them into the building, attached to a couple of SWAT agents. You know Aaron will get after you for going in before everything’s cleared by bomb squad, but you can’t keep still.

The heartache you feel for JJ supersedes anything else going on in your head. It’s something that plagues you all the time - the both of you doing this job. Losing Aaron in the field is a stark reality you can hardly consider at any point, especially when evidence of its reality is right in front of you.

+++

Aaron can’t help himself - he pulls you close after you’re both released by the paramedics, pressing a kiss to your head. It’s almost desperate as he leans back and pulls your collar from your vest, his hands smoothing over your shoulders.

“I need to debrief SWAT and first responders - can you stay with Dave and help with the media?”

“Okay. Let me know if you need any extra hands - I’ll send ‘em right over.”

He smiles at you, soft, small, and affectionate. “Thank you.”

+++

You pull your phone from your pocket.

She picks up on the second ring. “Yeah?”

“Hey, Jess.”

“Hey.” She pauses. “You okay?”

With a shaky sigh, you reply. “Yeah. I’m fine. Aaron’s fine.”

“I heard about the explosion. Is there anything I can do?”

“No, we’re fine. Just...Just stay out of the city.” After another breath. “Is Jack okay?”

She laughs a little. “Yeah. He’s fine. He’s a little anxious but I turned off the TV and we’re headed out to the park for a little while.”

“Good.” You look over at Aaron, who holds your eyes for a second before returning to his EMS strategy huddle.

“Be safe and come home to us soon, okay?”

“Yeah. We will. We love you. Tell Jack we -”

“ - Of course.”

+++

You follow Spencer through the debris once you’re done handling the media storm with Dave. Picking through the rubble, searching for something - anything - but not finding much.

Derek’s voice echoes through the ruined, cavernous space that used to be the main lobby. “Everything they've said and done was for a reason. But what doesn't make any sense is she switched the negotiation demand. Chris wanted to go to Switzerland. She changed it to Chad.”

“They also requested a private plane,” you note, “but no mention of a pilot.”

Spencer stops, and you almost run into him. Emily stops as well, looking back at the pair of you as Spencer organizes his thoughts. When he’s ready to speak, he says, “Guys, if you think about it, even the dates mean something. In 2004, while she was wreaking havoc abroad, he was dishonorably discharged. Then in 2008, they likely met in Chad. And now this in 2012.”

Good thought. But then again, when is one of Spencer’s thoughts bad?

It’s a decent enough question, and you run the gamut of all the surprising and absurd things Spencer’s said in your presence over the years. One in particular comes to mind.

Evil twin, eviler twin.

You hold back a little laugh, despite the harrowing circumstances.

Yeah, that one was pretty bad.

“Okay.” Derek grabs your attention again. “So, is it a coincidence that those are all election years and they attacked D.C.? Maybe this is a political statement.”

Emily’s eyes are stuck on something on the ground, but you’re not sure if it’s what she’s really looking at. “No. It's more personal than that. It's their story.”

Derek’s brow pinches. “What?”

“All of the details are a part of their story.”

She starts to leave through one of the shattered windows and you follow her back to the trailer, Spencer and Derek not far behind. She hops up the steps and you take your place beside Aaron once you’re all inside. It’s much cozier in here, with eight of you.

Spencer fills the rest of the team in on your conversation inside. Unsurprisingly, it’s rote - read like a cold script.

Emily picks up when he’s done. “Their timeline suggests they were both destructive before they met.”

“So we're talking about ex-military turning on their country.” Strauss looks and sounds skeptical, but you can’t blame her. In American culture, it’s rather incongruous.

Now who sounds like Spencer?

“It's rare, but soldiers become disenfranchised no matter what the nationality. And if he met someone like-minded at that time, there'd be no stopping them.”

“So you're thinking they met during the civil unrest in Chad in '08.” Aaron’s voice isn’t skeptical - more probing. You can see the wheels turning behind his eyes.

“Yeah,” Spencer says. “And one or both of them are pilots.”

“So if Garcia concentrates on that region,” Emily points to an area on a map, lit up on the monitor, “specifically weapons running in and out of Libya, there's a good chance we'll find their paths crossed.”

Penelope types furiously for a moment, her fingers flying over the keys. “Okay, multiple entries into Libya for a private pilot named Matthew Downs in '08, but I don't have her name.”

“Well, because she had aliases. It's the only way to stay a ghost.”

Looks like Emily’s Interpol knowledge is coming in handy.

She continues. “Here's the thing - they are a couple. Regardless of what we believe of them, they will celebrate themselves and their connection.” She turns to Penelope, a thought sparking behind her eyes. “Is there anything that happened on this date in Chad?”

“Oh, you are good, Emily Prentiss.” Penelope types for a moment and you lean forward, watching her work. “But this news is not. Yes, there were multiple explosions on this date in '08.”

Aaron speaks from beside you. He’s a little closer than you thought, and it startles you a little.

In fairness, you’re still jumpy from the explosion.

“Where were the most casualties?”

“At a church-- no, no, a train. Yep.”

Morgan squints at the photos of the hulled-out building. “Semtex and C-4?”

Penelope nods while Aaron turns toward Strauss. “Are trains still arriving at Union Station?”

“Yes, but only the authorities are allowed in.” There’s a moment where she almost looks panicked, but collects herself as the rest of you gear up to leave.

Emily exhales down her nose. “That’s why they needed Will.”

+++

Aaron drives impossibly fast through the district. You sit in the back seat with Emily, holding onto the handles above the door for dear life.

You’ve never flashed your badge so many times in such a short period. Aaron tucked his badge into a strap of his vest, just to save time, but still has his credentials locked between his fingers as he drives. If you didn’t trust him so much, it would freak you out a little.

+++

The comm in your ear crackles as Emily speaks. “I found Will.”

“Is he mobile?” Aaron’s voice comes both from beside you and your comm - it’s a little disorienting, but you push through.

“Negative. He's got 6 transmitters on him and this whole place is gonna blow.”

There’s hardly a hesitation in Aaron’s steps as he processes the information. “All right, where are you? I'm on my way.”

He’d like to think he’s made of steel.

Sometimes he is.

“No,” Emily asserts. “You gotta get everyone out. Is the bomb squad here yet?”

“They're 3 minutes away.”

“Copy.” She sounds a little disappointed, or maybe frustrated, but doesn’t say anything else.

He turns back to you, holding you by the shoulders. “I want you leading evacuation. Get out of here.”

Tears prick at your eyes and honestly, this is the first moment you’ve really been afraid. Existentially afraid. Afraid of walking out of this train station and leaving Aaron and Emily and Will to blow up. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yep. Go.” He tries to push you away, but you resist.

“Promise?”

His brown eyes soften as his mouth presses into a thin line. “Can’t. I love you. Get outta here.”

You bounce on your toes for a second, acutely aware you’re wasting valuable time, before yanking him forward to kiss his cheek before you sprint away from him, shouting instructions to the panicked crowd as you go.

+++

You catch up with Derek, racing to catch your suspect. He corners him in an alley but can’t quite overpower him. You reach for your sidearm, but by the time you take aim, Downs is already on the ground, a gunshot ringing through the air.

Startled, you turn over your shoulder to find Aaron still staring down the sight of his Glock.

Could take an eye out, with that thing.

You sigh and holster your weapon. Derek looks plenty dazed and you don’t blame him. It’s not often he’s on the receiving end of a near-miss in close combat. He looks over your shoulder and you can see something pass between him and Aaron.

Maybe one day, Derek will know how much Aaron loves and respects him.

You watch Derek shake it off and stumble as he attempts to rise to his feet.

Today is not that day.

Coming to your senses, you trot forward and help him to his feet, brushing wayward asphalt off of him. You turn back to Aaron. “Everything alright?”

He ignores you, pressing the mic at his chest as he begins to run back toward the station. “Prentiss, what’s your status?”

+++

Seeing Will and Emily leave the building in one piece is a relief. You meet Aaron’s gaze and his eyes are exhausted. The gears in his head still whir. He’s still in game-mode, and it’s a good thing.

With the logistical nightmare of two bomb threats in one day, there’s a lot of work ahead of you.

+++

You swing back and forth in your desk chair, brain completely numb from the paperwork. It’s been a long day, and you’ve been up since three this morning, what with your flight back from California. You’re certain you’ve had longer days than this one, but you’re approaching twenty-one hours without sleep and it feels worse than you remember.

What were we planning to do today?

A bike ride and museum day with Jack seems impossibly long ago. Last week, maybe.

Derek and Emily sit on their desks, attempting to keep a conversation going without much luck.

They were house-hunting this morning.

Penelope slowly descends the stairs as Spencer turns in his seat. “The convention’s still happening tomorrow if you want to go.”

They were at a convention this morning.

Everyone had lives this morning. Weird.

She makes an uncertain noise. “That whole city-on-the-brink-of-destruction thing kinda took the wind out of my sails, you know?”

You look up at her as she takes her place beside Spencer. “It’ll get you every time.”

“You gotta watch out for that,” Emily adds. It makes you smile a little.

Derek looks a little less amused, reminding Emily they’ll have to finish the inspection another time. Between Spencer and Penelope, Emily cops to a crack in the foundation of her almost-home.

“That does not sound good,” Penelope says. You can’t help but agree.

There’s a weird look on Derek’s face, but you ignore it in favor of Strauss’s descent on the stairs.

“Our unsub,” she says, “is Izzy Rogers. She'll be charged with multiple counts domestically, and our international counterparts will have their turn with her. She will never see the light of day.” A little smile graces her lips.

You realize with the tiniest of laughs (really - it’s a one on the Aaron Hotchner scale of laugher, which means it’s hardly noticeable to the naked eye) that you don’t hate her or even dislike her as much as you used to. Maybe, you even want her around.

Don’t push it.

“I just thought you'd like to know that.”

The five of you murmur something that sounds like, “Thank you, ma’am.”

She pulls Derek, probably to kick his ass for something or another and send herself back on your shit list.

That’s a problem for another time.

You take Izzy Rogers’s file from Emily, looking over an impressive rap sheet. You’re happy for a few things.

The first - that Aaron’s not a federal prosecutor anymore. This’ll be a case for the ages.

The second - you’ll never have to think about her again.

The third - you’re not sure. You’re sleep-deprived. It’ll come to you.

She cost me my precious eight hours and I’ll never forgive her.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Aaron leave his office. You set the file down and look up at him, halfway-hoping for once he’ll tell you to go home without him.

“Dave wants to know if everyone is free tomorrow night.”

Without any inflection at all, you reply. “We better not be doing anything tomorrow night.”

“Well,” Derek says, interrupting Emily’s snort. “If he’s buying, then I’m definitely in.”

Emily, Spencer, and Penelope jump onto Derek’s conditional acceptance and a rare smile pulls at Aaron’s face, his dimples on full display.

“Hear that? We’re in.”

+++

When you get home, Aaron all-but carries you to bed. With the tenderest of hands, he removes your shoes and socks, unbuttons your pants, slides them down your legs, and throws them in the laundry basket.

You’re practically wilting where you sit, feeling more and more like a sleepy toddler by the minute.

Aaron unbuttons your shirt and slips it off your shoulders, kissing each cheek in turn. “I’ll start a shower.”

You move to protest, but he strips and that mostly shuts you up. He starts the water before he returns to your side.

“I just want to sleep, Aar. Please.”

“Baby,” he says, a fond little pleading note in his tone. “We just changed the sheets. Do you really want to get semtex all over them?”

With a huff - “No.”

He smiles and helps you to your feet. “Didn’t think so.”

You’re so tired, it doesn't even cross your mind to take advantage of the shared shower or his lack of clothes. By the time he dries you off, tucks you in, and locks the bedroom door to ward off the over-eager six-year-old down the hall, you’re asleep.

His own exhaustion pulling at him, he doesn’t have the time or energy to cherish how peaceful, safe, and warm you look. He just draws you close to him until he can feel your heartbeat.

Sleep takes him rapidly after that.

+++

As Will and JJ exchange their vows, you tuck further into Aaron’s arms. His whisper floats past your ear, barely audible. “Wanna do that sometime?”

“What? Get married?” Your voice is just as quiet.

“Mhmm.”

“Only if it’s you.”

There’s a kiss pressed to your temple with a smile behind it. “I think I can make that happen.”

You turn your head to the side to keep your snark from carrying. “Please don’t propose to me right now. This weekend’s been long enough.”

Derek kicks the side of your foot from where he stands beside you, unable to hear the conversation but knowing you both well enough to keep you from tumbling down the rabbit hole of distraction.

Aaron presses another kiss to your temple. “I love you.” You feel it rather than hear it.

You pick up one of his hands and kiss the back of it. You don’t need to say anything.

+++

Aaron holds you close as you dance together, surrounded by your family. JJ and Will sway back and forth nearby, wrapped entirely in each other. Erin and Dave have been surprisingly brave, dancing and laughing quietly together throughout the evening.

As nice as it was to just have something for the two of you, sharing your love with your family has its own set of perks. You don’t have to hide anymore or justify your pigheaded protection of the other.

You can just… be.

+++

Eventually, Dave calls all the “...fortunately unmarried individuals to the dance floor,” and refuses to let anyone slip through the cracks.

When Aaron hangs back, drink in-hand and a little smile on his face, Dave calls him out. “Divorcés and widowers, too, c’mon.” He pauses, finding another tactic when Aaron doesn’t move. “If you’re both, you get extra points!”

Aaron rolls his eyes and you look around, finding an inappropriate amount of humor in JJ’s confused relatives. You can’t help but bark a loud laugh when you see how hard Derek’s trying to keep his mirth at bay.

Too soon for the dead wife jokes? He seems to ask. Can I laugh?

Something in your eyes gives him tacit permission and he nearly blinds you with his smile.

When Dave’s tricks fall short, you do your best to pull Aaron from the sideline with your best set of bedroom eyes. He courageously resists, so you give up and settle next to Anderson. “What do you think Dave’s come up with, this time?”

“God only knows.”

Anderson, like the rest of you, knows that Dave’s hosting abilities know no bounds.

“Because so many of you are joyfully unmarried, the newlyweds wanted to make sure there was someone else to suffer the slings and arrows of matrimony with them in the near future. Thus,” he opens his arm to JJ, who appears with her bouquet and a smile, “the bouquet toss will be an equal-opportunity event.”

With a laugh and a shake of your head, you prepare to duck out of the way.

You look over at Aaron. This is ridiculous.

He only shakes his head, hiding his smile behind his drink. And yet…

He leaves the rest of the implication unsaid, but you flip him off for good measure. Your exchange must have taken longer than you thought because before you know it, you have a face full of white roses. It’s over.

You pull the flowers from your face and level JJ with a glare across the dance floor. “Really?”

She raises her eyebrows and shrugs. “I turned my back and everything.”

There are whoops and hollers from your team and you can only roll your eyes. Derek and Will strong-arm Aaron onto the dance floor (you know he let them - if he really wanted to avoid you, they wouldn’t be able to move him an inch), where you’re both cajoled into a kiss and a photo. Penelope’s on the other side of the camera, grinning from ear to ear.

She waves at Aaron over the camera. “Smile for real, damn you!”

She amends, adding, “Sir,” for good measure. It has its intended effect and she’s rewarded with a rare, bright laugh from her unit chief.

Absurd traditions aside, you’d be lying if said you stopped smiling even once.

+++

As the party settles, some couples stay out on the dance floor, sedately twirling and swaying to the music that continues to play across the yard.

You and Aaron have relaxed significantly since the Great Bouquet Debacle, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons of his shirt undone. You’re sitting across his lap, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, with one of his arms wrapped around your middle and the other draped over your knees - the picture of relaxation.

Penelope, Derek, Emily, and Will have taken up residence on the other side of the dance floor, their heads close together and voices low.

Aaron’s eyes slide over them as he watches the room, scanning out of habit. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

You lean further into him as four pairs of eyes flicker over to you before returning to their huddle. “Us, probably.”

He hums, understanding and pensive. “Probably our sex life, right?”

“Probably,” you sigh, playing at boredom. He covers your hand with one of his and you play with his fingers - lacing, unlacing, kissing his knuckles.

It’s nice to feel safe, comfortable enough to love each other where curious eyes can see you.

You can feel his smile against your forehead as he presses a kiss between your brows.

“I mean,” you continue, “there is a lot to talk about.”

He shrugs, adjusting his arm where it lays across your legs to keep you both comfortable in the seat you share. “That’s true enough. Though, I can’t imagine any of their projections being right.”

+++

“I bet they’re into like…tantric sex. Like hours and hours and hours you know?” Penelope says, conspiracy the top note in her tone.

Derek looks at her and she backtracks, only a little on the defensive.

“What? Spencer’s talked to me about it before and I...read.”

He rolls his eyes, but Emily spares Penelope from any further interrogation.

“I could see that.” She watches the way your fingers wander over Aaron’s bare forearm, playing with the ridges of his watch, the way his thumb absent-mindedly draws small circles on your outer thigh. “Yeah, actually I think that’s exactly what happens.”

+++

“What do you think they’ve got so far?”

He plays at boredom. “They’re probably trying to take a guess at anything they can reach - with both of our profiles in Derek’s pocket, he’s going to have the most luck, I think.”

“Really?” You ask. “Not Emily?”

He snorts. “No. She has her mind on other things.”

That holds you up for a second, and you’re not sure if he’s still playing into the bit. “Wait, what do you mean?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll tell you later.”

“She’s resigning, isn’t she?” You give up the fun and lay your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder.

Without thinking, his hand rises to your cheek, affectionately brushing over your cheekbone before dropping back down. “She might be.”

“Did she do that thing where she sighs really big and then looks off to the upper right middle distance?”

“Yeah.”

“Shit.”

You’re both quiet for a moment, just enjoying the low lull of the music and the lights and the sights and smiles of your family.

“Hey.”

You lean back a little and meet Aaron’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“What’s my tell?”

The concern drops out of your face all at once. “You think I’m gonna spill just like that so you can go and change it on me? Not a chance.”

He sighs and his chin tips up in defeat. “So I have one?”

“Of course you do, stupid.” You flick his chest and a laugh rumbles through him. “Everyone does. You know mine, I know yours. You’re gonna have to get over it.”

“So you’ve caught me in lies before?” He asks, not without humor.

“Duh. I’m pretty sure I’ve caught every lie you’ve ever told, but you seemed so proud of yourself that I just let you have it.”

You can almost feel the eye roll. “Really?” He sounds skeptical. “Name one lie you’ve caught me in.”

“Alright.” You count off on your fingers. “You dinged my car door a couple of weeks ago, you definitely didn’t drop the bags at Goodwill, you do know it wasn’t Jack who finished the ice cream in the freezer, you -”

“Okay.” He covers your hands with his and kisses your fingers. “That’s enough. I get it.”

You kiss his cheek. “I’m sure you’ve caught me in every single lie I’ve ever told, too, huh?”

“Only every once since the day we met. Yours is obvious.”

It’s a trap. You don’t take it. “Hmm. That’s convenient.”

“Isn’t it?”

You lean back to look at him. “You’re a shit, you know that?”

He nods and raises his eyebrows, a cheeky, close-mouthed smile slowly creeping across his face.

You playfully smack his chest with the back of your hand. “Fucker.”

He says something under his breath and you level him with a look that has him repeating himself.

“I said, you wish.”

You roll your eyes and tuck back into his neck, kissing the skin above his collar. You can feel him shiver and you know you’ve got him. “Not just wish, honey. Know.”

+++

tagging: @writefasttalkevenfaster @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @hurricanejjareau @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @sana-li @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ssacandice-ray @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @bwbatta @wakatoshislover @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @arthurmorrgans @the-falling-in-the-danger @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw @deagibs @crazyshannonigans @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos @bispences @thebivirgin

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future #a joyful future fanfic

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justalilmc · 2 years ago

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hiii!!

can i have a marauders, mcu and got ship, please?!

so i’m a 23 year old straight female, i’m 5’2 with wavy brown hair and brown eyes.

i’m honest, sarcastic, competitive, stubborn, a perfectionist, a procrastinator and an intp.

laughing is my defense mechanism, and uh i’m your classic gifted burnout kid.

i love watching movies and tv shows and listening to songs that make me cry. i live in an imaginary world in my mind most of the time. i love understanding how things work, i used to teach archery to kids, i studied scenic design at university and enjoy painting.

oh and i’m a slytherin and my patronus is a fox.

thank you and have a great day!! ✨

Hey, sorry I took so long to respond. I’ve been super busy with work stuff, but here they are! Hope you enjoy :)

1.) Harry Potter

I ship you with Sirius Black!

- I love me some Sirius x Slytherin

- I’m seeing an enemies to lovers situation here

- Probably starts of with a bit of a rivalry

- You’re both pretty talented and smart, but lack a bit in the drive department, so once you see the other coming after you’re status as top of the class it gives that motivation to be better than the other

- Def a lot of teasing and possibly some pranking

- You’re probably buddies with Regulus and he is all for messing with his brother

- The more Sirius gets to know you, he’ll discover just how alike the two of you really are

- Remus is gonna be the one to tell Sirius that he likes you, cause let’s be honest he isn’t gonna figure that out himself

- Don’t think you’re off the hook once you start dating tho

- He’s the type to make you chose between gender equality and chivalry, you can’t have both

- He’ll tease you until the day you die, but now he’ll start making sure he’s not taking it too far

- Literally everything will be a competition, everything *wink wink*

- power couple tbh

2.) MCU

I ship you with Tony Stark!

- this mans needs someone like you fr

- Obviously his ego is the phattest you’ll ever see, so he needs someone honest like you to keep him humble

- Y’all would be such an intellectual match, you would be able to follow him on his crazy trains of thought and he would literally be unable to insult u like he does everyone else

- Plus he’s very stubborn in an argument, but so it seems are you, so get ready for some pouty Tony

- Once he’s done pouting tho he’ll know you’re right, he needs someone to remind him of the emotional side of things

- He believes his feelings make him weak, but you are able to show him that they make him stronger

- Y’all are rarely ever serious when you talk to each other, joking 24/7, but when you need to get real, you can get real

- I feel like he’d probably make you a suit if you asked

- He’d def be very protective of you tho, so don’t expect him to let you off easy

- The rest of the avengers would love you because you’re the only one that can get Tony to admit he’s wrong about smth, very rare, but you can do it

- Y’all would be like the cool aunt and uncle of the avengers family

3.) Game of Thrones

I ship you with Tyrion Lannister!

- okay hear me out

- If Tyrion doesn’t also scream burnt out gifted kid idk who does

- This would simply be the most iconic duo

- Y’all would literally have so much fun messing with each other and cracking jokes because I feel like you’re both very witty

- While you would be able to match each other intellectually, you would also be able to balance each other out in the way that you are still very in touch with your emotions while Tyrion has been burned so many times he’s gone a bit cold

- If Tyrion had a Hogwarts house he would most definitely also be a Slytherin

- You would make a very cunning and twistedly charming team

- Plus, you’re not too tall, so you wouldn’t tower over him too much lol

#harry potter #harry potter ships #marvel #marvel ships #game of thrones #game of thrones ship

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ifeelallwrite · 4 years ago

Text

Let’s talk about Hospital Playlist. (KDRAMA REVIEW)

note: does contain spoilers

When people ask me what is my favorite Korean drama of all time, with no doubt, IT’S HOSPITAL PLAYLIST. This drama has the comic relief, the emotional scenes, realistic characters-just to name a few. No toxic relationships and petty revenge fights. Nothing else will stop me for saying that this is the ultimate feel good drama.

SYNOPSIS: The drama shows insights into the daily lives of doctors and nurses working at Yulje Medical Hospital. It focuses on 5 doctors who have been friends since medical school, who also play together as a band.

This drama encompasses so many elements and characters so bear with me yo this might be real long

Hospital Playlist is produced/written by the Shin-Lee PD and writer pairing, whose previous works were the renowned Reply trilogy and Prison Playbook (which are *chef’s kiss*) I really like that all their dramas really highlight humanism, and puts emphasis on creating a heartwarming and realistic series. There isn’t always a major conflict to be resolved, but instead it showcases how different people-in this case mostly those in the medical field-go on about their daily lives. I also liked their reasoning to produce a medical drama which was that hospitals were where the most dramatic moments occurred, for example during births, deaths or sickness. And since we are still in the Covid-19 pandemic, it ties in greatly to be paying homage to all the medical personnel saving lives. Hence, props to those who were involved in this meaningful masterpiece <3

The drama is not the usual 16 episodes, but has 12 episodes for each season (SEASON 2 IS COMING SOON YAAS) Good thing is I felt that they were still able to weave a dynamic storyline in the first season even with lesser episodes. The writing was just top-notch with the witty humor bits. Additionally, the music is AMAZING. I love the concept of the main characters being a band and playing different songs every episode too.

Okay, now onto the characters. I thought that every character in this drama was well rounded. Starting of with the main five characters, also known as The 99ers, whose distinctive personalities and natural chemistry make all of them extremely likeable. All main characters are professors of different specialties, and I find the male OB-GYN (Seokhyeong) and female neurosurgeon (Songhwa) very refreshing. Also, I like Shin-Lee dramas always have characters that might be realistic yet hardly seen in other dramas or films. For example, Professor Ahn Jeongwon. Despite being a chaebol (inheritor/heir), he isn’t depicted as a spoilt brat or a cold character, instead as a warm Pediatric doctor who uses his wealth to secretly support patients in need. However it makes him stingy to his friends LOL

To be honest, I really thought I was gonna dislike Junwan due to his cold and tsundere nature. I pretty much believed that he was going to be the party pooper type of the bunch, but with the writer being a master of character development, he turned out to be really sincere and hilarious at times. Same for Ikjun, who apart from his enthusiastic and happy go lucky exterior, cares the most about the people around him. Although Seokhyeong seemed detached and introverted, he shows a emotional side to his friends as well as his mother. Songhwa is literally a girlboss though haha she’s smart, capable and gets along with everyone well. And she’s the most sane out of the bunch.

With all the main characters, we have the relationships. Junwan is the first to date seriously with Iksun (the dog or Micky? jkjk) who is Ikjun’s sister. When it first happened I was like not again Jung Kyung Ho (bc he dated his best friend’s sis in prison playbook too LMAO) I think their relationship was realistic and open. It also showed a more sensitive side to Junwan who would do anything for her. I especially liked how he said he didn’t need access to her phone because he trusted her. Yet as all couples do, they have their fair share of ups and downs. Like conflicts on getting married and a long distance relationship as Iksun moves overseas for graduate studies. I don’t really know how to take the ambiguous ending for these two, as Junwan receives the returned box (that has the ring he sent) I really hope nothing bad happens to these two though.

I’m sure we all love Wintergarden couple though, tbh they’re kinda my OTP at the moment 🤣 It was pretty much a ‘will they won’t they’ relationship with a relatively slow build. I think Gyeoul turned out to be one of my favourite characters. Shin Hyun Been did a good job at portraying her as a straightforward but innocent Resident, who is pretty much openly crushing on Jeongwon. The scenes they had together were adorably awkward (and the scene where he gives her chocopies omg) And when Jeongwon battles his inner conflict to become a priest, the final decision where they kiss was beautifully shot, with the actors both showcasing their emotions extremely well.

Then we have Chihong who pursues Songhwa, his professor. Midway through the drama, it is also shown that Ikjun and Songhwa might have had romantic feelings for each other. Songhwa ends up rejecting Chihong’s confession. In my opinion, Chihong was quite a interesting character but I didn’t really like him at the end. (I like the actor though) He did a real jerk move during drinking games, insisting on Ikjun to confess his feelings towards her even though he is already trying not to put Songhwa in an awkward spot. Although his character did end up making a cool exit and when I thought about his incredible story of soldier to doctor, I kinda regret disliking him that much. As for IkSong, In the final episode Ikjun confesses to her one last time, and we are left waiting for Songhwa’s reply. As much as I love this pairing, I don’t think that the ship will sail or maybe not as quickly as we think. I believe Songhwa would meticulously consider the sacrifices to their friendship or other aspects and might not be able to bring herself to it, but I hope it’s otherwise.

Lastly not forgetting Seokhyeong and Minha, another Professor+resident pairing. This one’s a bit ambiguous though, mainly because there hasn’t been much romantic development. To me, the most impactful scene came from Minha who had been irritated by continuous night shifts and was on the verge of a breakdown. She ended up remarkably saving a patient, starting off surgery on her own for the first time. Oh man Minha was such a lovable character, I remember feeling so bad for her but extremely proud of her for her accomplishment. Although Seokhyeong seemed a bit aloof and distant (which was intentional bc he’s an introvert) I think the backstory and all the hardships he faced with his family really made me feel for him. I hate to break it to you, but I’m not so sure if the ship will sail because of the phone call from his ex-wife and Minha’s somewhat rejected confession. But who knows, they might pull off a twist 👀

Apart from all these characters, there are more characters HHAHAH However, I think this is the killing point of ShinLee dramas. Unlike typical dramas which usually focuses on a main character and 2-3 side characters, they like to cast a diverse range of actors (especially those from theatre/musicals and lesser known drama/movie actors) while actually give their characters personality or a reason to be there. I’ve seen many dramas where extras or side characters were kind of irrelevant thus making me feel that they weren’t needed to build the storyline, yet ShinLee dramas hit different y’all. Every role, no matter how small, holds significance to the drama. It really seemed like a collaborative work that shows off every actors skills (and not forgetting staffs) and teamwork.

Anyways because there are way too many characters and too many scenes for me to mention them all, I’ll just talk about some honourable mentions heheh

1. Sunbin and Seokmin confession scene (ahh so cute)

I kinda sensed that they liked each other at the start but I didn’t know Seokmin would ask her out on a date at the end. Even though it’s kinda awkward that they are dating and working with each other though (both are in the same department) but hey the confession was cute and awkward and just warm and fuzzy 🥰

2. MAMA ROSA IS THE QUEENN

I think we all (would) love Mama Rosa because she’s a real one ☝️ (probably the coolest mother ever) She’s feisty, hilarious and kind to others. Plus her friendship with Ju Jong Su was just adorable and super wholesome. The scenes where they were supporting one another through tough times and hanging out with each other when they felt lonely always put a smile on my face. Oh and how Mama Rosa treated Gyeoul was extremely sweet. (as well as Seokhyeong’s mother) Despite her tough exterior, she’s a likeable character for being a strong but caring woman.

3. Just Do Jae Hak

I seriously love this guy so muchhh omg he’s so funny

Do Jae Hak has a funny amd clumsy personality, though it’s clear he’s been through a lot and is strong willed person. From admitting his indecisiveness to counselling Jun Wan on his love issues, there’s literally nothing to hate about him.

4. Uju and his dadd

The father and son chemistry between these two is so good omg. The scenes with these two are so adorable and heartwarming (not to mention hilarious) It’s amazing to see how Ikjun cares so much for Uju despite his hectic workdays while going through infidelity issues with his ex-wife. Uju is matured for his age and shows his love and appreciation for his dad too, making their interaction a great portrayal of a healthy family relationship💞

5. the food stealing the show🥘

Who doesn’t love food and when a show has great food scenes? Some of the best scenes are definitely when the 99s gather to eat. It really showcases each character’s personality with the tiniest details as well as highlight warm delicious meals. Just don’t watch this when you’re hungry at 2am in the morning guys you’ll be drooling all over your screens HAHAHA

Of course there are way more aspects, like Hongdo and Yoonbok, Ikjun and Iksun’s pigeon jokes and raps, or Jeongwon drunk crying in the chicken shop with his brother (who was his coach in Reply 1994 when he played Chilbong LOL)

Most importantly, I think it is the themes and messages that you get from the drama that really create such a lasting impression. Not only does it hit you in the feels with the hardships of hospital patients, or the hardworking doctors+nurses who are working long shifts saving lives, it also tackles topics of friendships through the possibilities of platonic and friends-to-lovers relationships. However I think the biggest lesson for me came from Seokhyeong, who learns to live his life doing what he want, with the people he treasures. Although the drama might seem slow at times (mainly because there isn’t really a main plot line/conflict occurring), but this drama would still bring you on a journey where you would laugh, cry and finish the series, begging for season 2 ✌🏻

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schrijverr · 3 years ago

Text

Hold Me Together

Chapter 3 out of 4

Eliot gets hurt on a job and then sick. Hardison and Parker waste no time to jump in to care for him and it becomes harder and harder to say no to their care when it’s just so nice. After he has a nightmare, they’re there for him and feelings come to light.

AKA Eliot has a terrible time physically (and partly emotionally), but gets lots of cuddles and two partners in the end.

On AO3.

Ships: Thiefsome OT3

Warnings: Eliot's low self esteem and the flu

~~~~~~~~~~~

Hold Me Tight

Eliot ate his soup under the watchful gazes of Hardison and Parker. It was good soup, but he felt guilty about having the kitchen staff cook for him, deciding to thank them profusely later. He also made a mental note to yell at Hardison and Parkerlater about burning a pan, hoping it hadn’t been one of his nice pans.

For now though, the soup was heavenly on his throat and its warmth was great for his cold bones, so he just leaned against the headboard and ate his soup, spotting the stuffed mushroom on his bedside table.

Once it became clear, he wasn’t going to explode, or whatever those two thought he was going to do, they relaxed and started babbling about all sorts of things. While Eliot had been sleeping, they had also taken a nap, before the failed soup experiment, after which Hardison had taught Parker how to play Thief: Deadly Shadows, which Parker found too unrealistic and critiqued the stealing animations, until they had decided to keep him company.

Their chatter was relaxing and despite the fact that Eliot had been asleep for sixteen hours, not to mention the car ride before that, he found his eyes drooping.

“You tired?” Hardison asked kindly and Eliot’s gut instinct was to deny it. He couldn't go to sleep again, it was embarrassing and unnecessary. Still, he was tired and they had been so nice, but if he went to sleep they would leave him again.

That train of thought had taken a quick turn and Eliot was frustrated that he didn’t have a good control over his emotions and thoughts due to the fluof all things that was making him dazed. He blinked the thought away and shook his head.

“So you’re not tired?” Parker filled in with a confused frown. And Eliot wanted to deny it for real this time, but instead he yawned.

“I somehow find that hard to believe,” Hardison quirked a brow playfully.

God, they were so nice to him and he didn’t deserve that, but it was so nice and he wanted them to stay with him and not go to sleep, even if he was tired. He pushed down the tears threatening to well up in his eyes, before whispering: “Don’t want to sleep yet.”

It was pathetic and he should have just said that he was fine and that he was going to get up, but he couldn’t and if anyone asked later he had a sore throat and couldn’t speak.

“No?” Hardison asked.

“No,” Eliot replied. He didn’t want to sleep, he didn’t want to be left alone and he didn’t want to be pathetic, yet there he was.

“We could watch a movie,” Parker suggested and Eliot could have kissed her. He had wanted to kiss her on multiple occasions, but this was definitely one of them- And he should really stop thinking about kissing Parker right about now, okay, pushing that away.

“That’s a great idea, mama,” Hardison exclaimed, getting up to grab his laptop since Eliot had refused to let him install a tv in his room. As he went he took the empty bowl with him.

Parker took it upon herself to built a semi-pillow fort around Eliot, before burrowing into Eliot’s side with a content sigh. Alarms went off in his head at the closeness even if it was nice, so he protested it with a raw voice: “I could be contagious.”

“We slept next to you for a night then sat on the backseat of Lucille for eight hours, bit too late for that,” Parker said. “Besides, you’re warm and soft.”

His brain short-circuited for a moment and when he came back online Hardison was there, three steaming mugs on a tray as he said: “Ahw, aren’t you two making an adorable picture,” successfully breaking Eliot again.

Next to him Parker smiled and did grabby hands to the mugs. Hardison gave her one, which was obviously hot chocolate under the pile of marshmallows on top of it. Luckily, the mug that Eliot was given was filled with tea. It was bag tea, badly prepared, but there was honey in it and he was touched anyway.

“Okay, I’m thinking 007, it’s James Bond, a classic, must see,” Hardison said, plopping down on Eliot’s other side, setting the laptop on Eliot’s lap and leaning over as he started typing.

“He’s a terrible spy,” Eliot protested, barely audible, more because if he said anything else, he would blurt out something embarrassing and bickering with Hardison about his movie taste was the safest thing right now.

“And your voice is almost gone, so you should rest it,” Hardison shot him a cheeky grin, “No complaining from you for once.”

Eliot guffawed about that, frowning, but he didn’t reply, because he wouldn't waste his voice on something so petty and childish, no matter what Hardison thought, so he just looked away haughtily to convey his dismay.

“Oeh, I know, it’s the one with the dude he thinks he’s good at what we do, but he’s not and also on the other side of the law,” it clicked for Parker and Eliot smiled when she picked his side of the argument.

“Other side of the law? Woman, do you mean the right side of the law?” Hardison said.

“I mean, it’s the other side of the law from us,” Parker shrugged and Eliot couldn't help but bark out a laugh, Hardison joining in, before everyone was distracted when it turned into a coughing fit and Eliot’s tea had to be saved by Parker while Hardison rubbed his back.

“You good?” Hardison asked when the coughing had subsided.

Still a bit out of breath and red in the face, Eliot nodded. He gestured vaguely with his hand to convey that he was fine and that they should let it go, before clearing his throat and rasping: “You know, I’m with Parker.”

“Really? You just nearly died of coughing and your first reaction is to continue a stupid argument where you know you’re wrong,” Hardison said indignantly.

“‘m not wrong,” Eliot told him, voice now barely a whisper.

“You. You stay quiet, okay. Your voice is making my throat hurt-” Hardison took the tea from Parker and pushed it into Eliot’s hands “-drink your tea and shut up, while you watch how wrong you are, okay. Both y’all.”

Eliot grinned lightly, but let them push him back onto the pillows, cradling his mug as Hardison finished setting up the movie, while Parker whispered in his ear: “I don’t get why people think he’s cool, besides the explosions.”

“I heard that,” Hardison called out, clicking play, before settling down on Eliot’s other side, bracketing him between them.

It was nice and comfortable and Eliot should really not be allowing this, because he was fine dammit and he could take care of himself. But it was really really nice and, honestly, it didn’t seem like Parker and Hardison thought him to be breakable and they had had movie nights in the past, so it wasn’t anything new. Besides, his muscles were too sore for fighting right now.

The movie played on the screen, but he couldn't focus and his eyes were closing more and more. He felt himself slide to the side and land on something warm, but no one pushed him away and to the sound of bullets flying, he began to nod off.

He fought it for a while, he really wanted to stay present with Parker commenting on the movie and Hardison defending it until a hacking scene came on and then he was really upset about the whole thing.

It felt like home, comfortable and safe and Eliot wanted to experience it for as long as it lasted, but sleep won out and soon he was out like a light once more.

When he woke up again, he was shivering and cold to the bone, it didn’t matter that there were multiple blankets piled on top of him and that he still had Hardison’s stupidly warm hoodie on. The sweat was cooling on his body and he was cold.

And alone.

Somehow that second fact hit him harder than he’d expected and he immediately hated himself for being a clingy pathetic little bitch. He knew better than this, they’d already seen enough weakness from him. They had handled it so far, but there would be a breaking point and he knew it. He had to keep them out of it, before they got there and they would leave. He had to take care of himself from now on.

Determined he got up out of bed to find more blankets and clean clothes, because still wearing Hardison’s hoodie should be weird and not comforting and the clothes were too sweaty to be comfortable anyway. His left ankle still throbbed as he got up, but he could walk and stand on it now, albeit unsteadily and with a slight limp.

He felt entirely uncomfortable, his skin itchy around him and his body uncoordinated. He wanted to take a shower, but didn’t trust himself enough to take one, so he just pulled on new clothes, a shirt and boxers – no pants because he’d already almost fallen over with the boxers – before padding out his room and to the living room where there should be more blankets. He had no clue what time it was but it was between sun and stars, either early morning or evening.

The unanswered question about the time was answered when he entered the living room and saw Parker and Hardison curled up on the couch with a blanket and pizza. Dinner. At least he hoped it wasn’t breakfast, because then he would have to yell at them and that seemed like about as much work as standing was right now.

Two pairs of eyes had locked onto him the moment he had come stumbling into the room, and he looked at them like a deer in headlights. He somehow hadn’t counted on encountering them, even if it was technically their apartment and he just had a room there.

After a moment of staring, Parker sprung up, exclaiming: “Eliot!” as she scrambled over the back of the couch with the blanket she and Hardison had been sharing.

“Hey, man, what are you doing here? You should be in bed,” Hardison had gotten over his initial surprise of Eliot appearing in just his boxers and a shirt (and he was really regretting not putting in the extra effort of pants).

Then the question registered and with a hoarse voice, he explained: “I go’ col’. Blan’e’s.”

“You’re up looking for more blankets?” Hardison asked. “Good god, you’re shivering, man. Come, sit on the couch.” Parker led him to the couch while Hardison mumbled: “How is this man cold? We left nearly all the blankets on his bed.”

Eliot felt guilty about interrupting their evening when he’d already taken up so much of their time since their last con, on which they also hadn’t been able to spend much time together, but between his clattering teeth and lost voice, his explanation got lost.

He was alone on the couch now, with both Hardison and Parker having disappeared once they’d installed him with the blanket tucked tightly around him. He was a bit lost on what was expected of him now, but soon Parker came back with the mess of blankets that had been on his bed and Hardison arrived with a steaming bowl and a hot bottle.

Hardison handed him the bottle and he tucked it against his chest, before Parker practically swaddled him. He softly protested: “You don’ nee’ to do t‘is.”

“We know,” Hardison smiled again with a bit of knowing in there as if he was aware why Eliot was protesting. It should bother him more than it did that they knew him so well. “Just drink your soup, Eliot. We want to take care of you.”

“Yes, it’s a skill you need to learn and you helped me,” Parker smiled and it was so easy to agree with the smile and just drink his soup, but he couldn't just accept help like that.

What he wanted to tell them was: ‘You two need to stop all of this, because I don’t need it and you two are dating and I’m only in the way of that right now. Just let me get to my room and I’ll be fine on my own while you have date night. This is really sweet and all, but I’ve been through worse and I’ll survive a little flu by myself.’

However, his voice had left him entirely now to the point of inaudible, so instead he moved his mouth while hoarse whispers that couldn't even be called words came out.

“I didn’t get that,” Parker said after a beat and it was just blunt and honest and completely Parker.

“Me neither, mama,” Hardison said. “I can go grab you a pen and some paper, man. You can write it down if you want?”

And that was the opposite of what he wanted. He wanted them to see he was bad in their life and not worthy of this attention, he wanted them to go away before they could see he was weak and they couldn't count on him, even if he would die before they couldn't count on him anymore. The longer this went on the sooner they would see the soft, weak parts of him and they would want to cut him out. And he didn’t want to be cut out. Of course he didn’t want to be cut out, but that would be inevitable if they stayed, because they would see his creepy feelings for them or see how much he craved contact and that would be the end.

His vision blurred and his breath came in raspy wheezes. Far away he could hear Parker and Hardison’s worried voices and he faintly wondered why they weren’t upset with him for ruining their night and falling apart over nothing.

Why couldn’t they just leave him like everyone else? It would hurt, but it would be easier.

But they didn’t leave, instead there was a bony arm around his shoulders and a soft hand rubbing his back as two voices spoke in calming tones, though he couldn't make out what they were saying. He took some more deep breaths and tried to push it all down and lock it away.

Once his vision had cleared he could see a laptop on a blank word document in front of him. He didn’t have the energy to repeat all he’d said, but he typed anyway: im aorry dioe ruinug your date nifht

He couldn't really focus, but both were quiet for a moment as they deciphered his words. Then he was pulled into a half hug by Hardison this time, as the other said: “You’re not ruining anyone’s night, man. What gave you that idea?”

Eliot shrugged helplessly at that, because how could they not see he was ruining their night by getting injured and then sick and deciding to stay here even if he had an apartment, because there was a room here. And he was really relying too much on them already for when it all came crashing down around him.

“Do you not want us to be here with you?” Parker asked, sounding sad.

He shook his head quickly, because he could never let Parker be sad, a stab of pain going through his skull as he did, before shrugging, wishing he had a voice, even if he was too exhausted to explain. He wasn’t sleepy, just tired, like he wanted to sit and stare, but not sleep.

Parker wrapped herself around him, putting her head on his shoulder as she said: “It’s okay. I sometimes also don’t know what I want. We’ll just figure it out together.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Hardison agreed with her and Eliot wanted to cry at their kindness, but instead he just nodded weakly, giving in to taking up space when they didn’t seem to mind. He accepted the soup again and focusing on eating it and the warmth of Hardison and Parker as well as the blankets around him, instead of the thoughts swirling in his mind.

The two had the good sense to let him be, while they went back to the conversation he’d interrupted. It seemed they had been discussing the ethics of pushing someone of the building. Eliot had heard both sides of the argument often enough to tune them out and just listen to the tones of their voices as his mind sank away.

Content he stared into the void for a while. He didn’t keep track of the time, but it could have been minutes to an hour. In the time he ate his soup and let the bowl get taken away gently as the hot water bottle cooled and the shivers came back. His breath was wheezy and he sniffled, regularly interrupted with a cough.

After a while they put on a movie and cuddled on the couch with him, but he could not have told anyone later what the movie was.

They helped him to bed at some point, he brushed his teeth slowlyand slept long and deep, but when he woke up he was still in that hazy staring mood. Parker brought him a few crackers with more tea with honey that he ate gratefully giving her an, in her opinion, dopey smile, even if his eyes couldn't stay fully focused on her.

It was never brought up later and Eliot didn’t remember, but when Parker had asked him why he was smiling, he had told her in a hoarse whisper: “‘s nice, not bein’ alone.” And after that, he hadn’t been alone, because Parker had told Hardison, who had gotten a sad look in his eye, before getting Eliot and carting him off to the couch.

Eliot had gone along willingly. He couldn't really do more than think ‘hmm, warm,’ as he leaned in and stumbled along, but he was glad to just sit on the couch under a lot of blankets while Parker hung in the rafters and Hardison worked on some IDs.

He was pretty sure Sophie came by and he said hi to her and she told him something about talking to Nate, but he couldn't be sure. He should ask Hardison or Parker about it, because they had talked to her more and he should be interested in who went in and out of the apartment, check for security risks. But he was exhausted and he couldn't focus on anything.

Still, he was completely sure that if something were to happen, he would be up and ready to fight as best as he could, but his brain had shut off for anyone he’d deemed safe.

That night Hardison and Parker slept in his bed again, like they’d done at the hotel and the first night back in Portland. Their presence was calming and despite the chills, he felt warm.

During the night he didn’t wake up once, which was actually rare even with the sickness knocking him out constantly. The shivers had been waking him up for short moments, along with the coughing, but pressed between Parker and Hardison, he slept like a baby.

When he woke up, however, he was keenly aware of the cooling sweat on his skin and the every present smell of sickness in the air and the horrid taste in his mouth. He also then realized that meant Hardison and Parker were smelling it too and he let out a small noise of embarrassment, before he was even aware of it.

“What’s wrong, E?” Hardison asked and Eliot would rather just sink into the ground, but he couldn't so he burrowed into his blanket and wrinkled his nose.

“Are you still a mermaid?” Parker appeared where he had rolled away from Hardison.

“We watched The Little Mermaidrecently,” Hardison explained.

Eliot nodded. He might be able to talk, but his throat hurt and none of his thoughts stuck around for long enough to form into sentences he could verbalize.

Parker was still studying his face closely, while Hardison went on a mission to figure out what the noise had meant. “Are you in pain? Do we need to get you some pain meds?”

A grumpy, negative grunt.

“Okay, okay, no need to be so touchy feel-y. I get it, no pain meds,” Hardison backed off. “Is there any other discomfort?”

And there was, the taste and smell and the fact that Hardison and Parker were in the smell and not saying anything about it. Also the fact that his clothes felt grimy from the sweat that madehis skin feellike it needed to crawl off him if he ever wanted to feel comfortable and clean again. But he wasn’t telling them that, because they might want to do something about it, which would be even more embarrassing.

“He’s not telling us something,” Parker snitched on him and while he was glad her people-reading skills had increased, he didn’t like her using them on him. So, he hid in his blanket again as protest.

“There is something!” Hardison agreed, taking his silent protest as Parker’s words having truth and Eliot hated and loved them both for how well they could read him. It was dangerous to have people that close and it would hurt when they left, but to have a family again was nice.

Having them was nice.

Oh no. Abort. Abort. Not having those thoughts while they were in his bed and he was in just a shirt and boxers.

Actually, never those thoughts.

Never.

They were happy together and he only broke things. He was bad and needed to stay away from that and he knew it. Just had to ram it in a few more times before it would stick in his thick skull and- fuck they were still talking to him.

“… never tell us anything and I know you can’t talk and shit, but you really need to give me more than those blank, panicky eyes,” Hardison looked at him, before sighing in what Eliot would call a fond manner, if he didn’t know better. “You didn’t hear a word I was saying, did you?”

Sheepishly Eliot shook his head, wincing when that every present headache made itself known again.

“He feels bad about it,” Parker observed and he would love it if she stopped reading his face to Hardison and let him vanish in peace.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Hardison smiled and a knot loosened in Eliot’s chest, even when he hadn’t noticed it had been there. “I’ll ask again. He listening, mama?”

After a look Parker confirmed: “He is.”

“Good. So, Eliot, the thing that’s bothering you, could we do something to change it and help?” he asked and there was, but Eliot wasn’t showering with them near him again, maybe they’d hold him and the last time was too intense already. His mind spun when he thought about it, so yeah, he didn’t need a close repeat of that, not if he wanted to push Hardison and Parker away.

“I’m taking your silence as a yes,” Hardison informed him, snapping him back to the present, though he could play that off. He had been distant mentally ever since he got sick.

“So, what is it?” Parker asked, poking him and, oh yeah, he realized, them knowing something was up meant that they were going to needle him for answers until they had them.

Luckily for him, he had sat through worse torture and never breathed a word.

A few moments later and he was breaking. Parker kept on poking him and Hardison kept looking at him with those open, concerned eyes while he spoke too much for Eliot too keep track of everything, until it all became too much. “Uncomfortable,” he finally said. Well, tried to say, it sounded more like ‘un’omf’r’le,’ but that was besides the point.

“What’s uncomfortable, E?” Hardison asked, not unkindly.

“E’erythin’,” he replied, tugging at his shirt and wrinkling his nose as he smacked his lips and shuddered, before the shudder turned into a sneeze and a small, miserable cough.

“You feeling yucky, buddy?” Parker asked, earning her look form the other two. Defensively she shrugged: “What? It’s what they say in those movies and shows.”

And when she mentioned it, he did feel pretty yucky, even if he would never describe it like that out loud. Hardison, however, had no such qualms and he delighted in saying: “He probably does feel very yucky. But we can take care of that. I’ll start running a bath.”

Immediately Eliot felt conflicted and made a protesting noise. He wanted a bath, god, nothing sounded better than nice hot water on his sore muscles and cold, sweat stained skin, but if he had learned anything, it was that neither of them would leave him in peace in the bath and he was trying to distance himself, even if that seemed absurd with how both were in his bed, cuddling him through the night to keep him warm.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back,” Hardison smiled, misinterpreting his noise and sweeping out of the room before Eliot could rectify the mistake.

Parker cuddled back into his side and confided in him: “He never breaks that promise. Took me a while to believe it too, but it’s okay. You’ll get there.”

Eliot didn’t understand, didn’t get how neither of them could see how wrong they were. He wanted to rip his hair out and- oh, there was a hand in his hair, getting out the tangles. It was nice and his mind blanked as he leaned into the contact, something he would berate himself for later.

He only remembered that he should have been convincing Parker that this was a terrible idea when Hardison returned. “You two gotta stop doing this to me, man. You look like a content cat. Now get up, we got a bath to get too.”

The blanket was pulled off him and the cold swept over him. He shivered hard and tried to flee into Parker’s side before he could even think about that action too hard. For a moment, he thought he was safe too, because she wrapped her arms around him like a hug, but then she turned it against him and dragged him to his knees with her.

“Man, I feel like I’m about to slaughter a puppy right now,” Hardison told him as he took Eliot from Parker and pulled him out of bed.

“He’ll be fine once he’s warm and clean again,” Parker assured him. “He’s just being a bit of a baby about it.”

“I think he’s allowed to be a baby about it,” Hardison said and Eliot would have a lot more opinions on the conversation if the room wasn’t spinning and he was barely keeping up with Hardison’s steps, completely trusting the hacker not to drop him. “I mean, look at how he’s shivering, can’t be comfortable.”

Eliot blinked again, the room was still swaying, but it was a different room than before. There was a hot steam in the air and there were tiles around him. The bathroom. He was too late to stop them and he gave in.

If anyone he used to know could see him now, they’d never believe it. The great Eliot Spencer giving into the whims of a hacker and a thief, not even fighting getting a bath even when he knew it was a security risk and something that could blow up in his face.

Deft hands were divesting him of his shirt and soon he was in just his boxers. The door opened and closed behind him as Parker vanished, while Hardison said: “She’s gonna change the sheets and I’m here to keep you from drowning. There are bubbles in the bath, but I can understand if you want to keep your boxers on.”

He nodded, because he would like to keep the boxers on. The steam was doing wonders for his throat, but he didn’t trust himself to speak just yet.

Hardison supported him at the elbows as he stepped into the bath. The water was warm and he sank into it gratefully with a soft sigh, his muscles were already loosening and the heat did nothing against the sleepiness that had been plaguing him. His eyes closed without his permission as the water embraced him.

A hand under his chin stopped him before he could sink underwater and his eyes snapped open to find Hardison smiling at him. “Told you I wasn’t going to let you drown. Go on, relax, Eliot. It’s okay, I got you.”

It was distinctly harder to relax with Hardison holding him up, his big warm hands were very distracting and Eliot was trying really hard not to be distracted. The water was like heaven on his muscles, so that helped and he could feel the steam clearing his sinuses and alleviating the strain on his throat.

Few minutes in and Hardison’s hands were just part of the little place of niceness away from all the discomfort that came with being sick.

Eliot knew he could have just existed like that forever, floating away from his body while still feeling the nice sensations, were it not for the door making noise again as Parker came in. He perked his head up and cracked one eye open.

She smiled at him and held up some clothes, which she put down as she skipped forwards, kneeling next to the bath. With open eyes she asked: “How are you feeling? Baths always make me feel tingly in a good way, are you feeling tingly?”

He didn’t know what hisface did at the question, but Hardison laughed: “I think he’s feeling plenty tingly, mama. I saw you with your hands in his hair, wanna wash it?”

Parker lit up at that and even if Eliot had been planning to protest – which hadn’t crossed his mind before it was too late – he couldn't have told her no with that face. So he watched as they switched places, feeling kinda awkward at both of the staring at him while he was going to face a vulnerable action.

Eliot wasn’t going to ask where she had gotten the skill, but she knew what she was doing as she slipped a hand under his neck, before slowly pushing him down into the water, until he was comfortably floating. She ran a hand through his hair and the final awkwardness slipped from his mind along with most of his thoughts as he leaned into the touch.

Under the water with his eyes closed, he couldn't see Hardison’s looks that he couldn't place with his fuzzy mind, nor Parker’s excitement and apparent happiness about taking care of him like he needed their help. He could just be and feel the tender touches that no one had given him in many years, everyone always quicker to see him as a threat to be avoided.

He was even slightly upset when Parker pulled him back up, a noise leaving his throat before he remembered that he wasn’t supposed to find Parker’s hands on him nice, she had a boyfriend. A hot boyfriend, but also a no-no on the touch list.

So, he kept quiet as Parker lathered shampoo into his hair. It was her shampoo, he was almost sure of it. Her hair always smelled like it and, if he remembered correctly, it had been a gift from Hardison. Now he had to fight both the blush as well as soft pleased noises.

And he failed at both.

“Ahw, man, the moment you feel better, I am so teasing you with this,” Hardison said. “You’re just too sad for me to do it now, but I will remember this. I’m probably not allowed to film you, right, because this is great.”

His response was going to be something along the lines of ‘Dammit, Hardison,’ but Parker was faster as she spoke for him: “Hardison! Shush, we just got him to accept a bit of nice things, don’t ruin our master plan.”

“Sorry, mama,” Hardison looked chastised and Eliot wanted to ask about the master plan, but Parker just hit a knot in his hair and he shivered against her touch instead and forgot was he was going to ask.

When Parker washed out his hair, she was careful not to get it into his eyes, but she also let him float a bit longer, the silence of the water stilling his swirling mind. It was empty now, which was better than the confusing half-thoughts and admonishes.

Still, the water was cooling around him and sooner than he’d like, Parker was letting him up as Hardison got him out of the bath.

He could at least stand on his own now and Parker left the two of them while Eliot got dried off and into new clothes.

Being able to stand on his own, however, didn’t mean it wasn’t still strange. His entire being felt soft and collapsible from the bath and sitting on the toilet with Hardison rubbing him down with a towel wasn’t helping. He couldn't even remember why he was allowing Hardison to do it, instead of drying himself, but the contact was nice and he got lost in it.

Soon there was a shirt floating in front of him and this time his shoulder was good enough to slide his armin it. Hardison had dried his stitches and mumbled something about them healing well, which Eliot appreciated. He didn’t need more of his body to turn against him like it was doing now with the way he swayed towards Hardison whenever then man moved away slightly.

The pants was still awkward as fuck, with Eliot leaning one hand on Hardison’s shoulder and looking away at the ceiling while Hardison helped him into dry boxers and sweatpants, patting him on the leg when he was done.

He expected to go back to bed, but Hardison had remembered all the little details and was standing in front of him with his toothbrush. He reached out for it, but his arm was heavy and fell halfway through the uncoordinated grab.

“Yeah, okay, this is just sad, open up,” Hardison said. Eliot didn’t comply and he raised a brow, before putting on a voice and going: “Come on, say ahhhh.”

Eliot glared at him, but said ahhh with a murderous glare that fell flat in the grand scheme of it all. He let Hardison steady his jaw, before he brushed his teeth. It was rhythmic and soothing and Eliot allowed himself to get lost in the sensations as Hardison took care of him, spitting in the sink and accepting the glass of water offered to him.

Then they returned to the bedroom, Hardison a steady presence at his side as had become the norm in the past few days.

When he got to his bedroom, the sheets had been changed and he never thought he’d see the day where that would make him emotional, but there were still tears trying to well up that he pushed down, because they were just so goddamnedthoughtful and they were taking care of him even when they didn’t need to.

It was just a lot. Eliot wasn’t used to it. And his brain would have told him to not get used to it, if it hadn’t been turned to slight mush by the sickness and the nice warm bath.

So, he got into the bed and burrowed into the clean sheets with a happy smile, not seeing the ‘oh my god, he’s being adorable like a puppy looks’ that Hardison and Parker shared as he whispered a soft thanks.

“No problem,” Hardison said. “Here scoot over, Parker picked a movie.”

And he did so gladly, even if he knew it was a play to get him to sleep again. He wasn’t fighting them, his brain felt warm and he wasn’t thinking straight enough just yet, so he let them cozy up to his sides as a movie he couldn't name played.

He napped till the evening then he ate more soup and he would complain about different nutrient intakes and diversity in a diet, but he was just glad that they cared enough to bring him food – and he would really have to thank the kitchen staff later for that too – while also not burning down his kitchen.

That evening, he stayed awake through the movie, which was a shitty horror movie that Eliot had never heard about and could have gone his entire life without knowing about it.

However, sleep took him for the night just as easily and he was looking forward to the day he could stay awake and think straight again. That day was not the next day, however, which passed in a similar fashion.

But, while he felt and looked like a wreck, on the fifth day back at the brewpub, he felt slightly better. His nose was still completely stuffed but with all the tea, the bath and resting his voice, his throat was much better already, even the coughing subsiding little by little. His appetite was still shit and he had no energy, his head was also constantly thrumming and his muscles hurt like he’d been fighting for hours, on top of his healing injuries that had fallen into the background of his general discomfort.

Still, while it wasn’t a lot, his head wasn’t so fuzzy anymore either. It meant he felt all the aches more, but he liked that he had a little more control over his head.

Sadly, because he had more control over his head, he remembered how this was all wrong and he should be far away from this.

A/N:

Eliot goes from grumpy man to emotional wreck in three chapters and I commend him for that, because it takes me five minutes max

Also, it’s really hard to write a story when the person from whose POV it is written keeps falling asleep, like sir, I need you to write the fic, stop sleeping.

Fun fact!: I typed this ‘im aorry dioe ruinug your date nifht’ without looking, bc I am actually a shit typer in the sense that I type with two fingers (four if I’m in a hurry), lmao. How I get anything done is a miracle, though I am pretty fast despite it all.

I feel like I should also mention that I know nothing about taking care of sick people and this was written for the emotional care, not the realistic nursing techniques. Also don’t look too closely into what happened to all the injuries, I half forgot, oops

Btw, angstier chapter incoming, fear me >:3

#RR writing #tw: self esteem issues #tw: flu #tw: sickfic #leverage #leverage ot3 #thiefsome #hitter hacker thief #eliot x hardison x parker #eliot spencer #alec hardison #parker #leverage parker #leverage tv #Hold Me Together #Hold Me Together Part 3

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curvynerdfan · 4 years ago

Text

Never let me go

Happy x Reader

Requested by @isitmine I hope you like it hun! I’m sorry it took such a long time for me to complete! I added a lot more length to make up for it! School and work has been crazy but it was a lot of fun to write this and be creative!

Honorable tags: @justahopelessssromantic and @princessofthalia

Warnings: being hurt by a prospect, cursing, violent Happy, murder, a bit of gore

“Hey, didn’t Jax want y’all to meet up with Gemma? I thought she was getting her new furniture shipped in today.” Y/N asked.

“Why the fuck do you care?”, the prospect, Maggot, barked.

“Well, I was just hoping to see Happy soon.”, Y/N responded, confused on why he was being so rude.

“Oh! So you’re one of his bitches huh?”, he grumbled.

“No!”, she argued, “I am his old lady!”

Y/N couldn’t believe a prospect was being so disrespectful to an old lady. Let alone her! She didn’t think she was anything special but Happy was Sergeant-at-Arms and the terrifying Tacoma Killer and she was his pregnant wife. While thinking through the different possibilities of how to handle the situation, she felt a hand land on her neck.

Y/N was at the point where she thought she was going to pass out when she clawed out at his face. The first couple of swipes were misses, until she finally managed to dig her nails into him.The pain must of startled him enough because his grip began to slip. Y/N pulled away quickly and dropped to the ground. She was heaving and thought she might vomit.

“God dammit!” He shouted, bringing his hand up to his face only to see it covered in blood.

He started towards her again and picked up a broken beer bottle on the way.

“Think, about what you’re doing here Maggot,” Y/N kept pausing to breathe, “the club isn’t going to take this lightly”

“They don’t care about anyone but themselves! No one will miss a crow!” Maggot yelled, swiping at her with the broken bottle.

Y/N flinched and covered her stomach with her arms. She was barely showing right now, only in tight clothing but she still wasn’t going to let anything happen to her baby. Maggot missed the first time in his fit of rage but managed to catch Y/N’s left arm on the second swipe.

She began to scream in pain and shout for help, crying out for Happy or anyone else who may be nearby. Maggot swiped at Y/N again, but she luckily managed to knock the sharp glass out of his hand. This really pissed him off and before she could bring her arms up a hand collided with her face. Her head snapped to the side and when she brought a hand up to her face she realized she was crying.

Maggot appeared to have reached his wits end. His arm raised up into the air again and she began to pray to any diety that would listen. Screaming at the top of her lungs, hoping someone will hear her.

Jax looked up from the custom bike he was working on when he heard someone screaming like a banshee from within the clubhouse. He made eye contact with Opie and dropped his tools. Both brothers sprinted across the lot, worried for whoever was making that noise. They burst through the door and were enraged by what they saw.

Maggot was rearing back to hit her again, when he was suddenly jerked away from her. Opie had grabbed Maggot by his raised arm and dragged him away, surely dislocating the prospect’s shoulder.

Jax tried to console Y/N but she didn’t seem to recognize who he was. She was so overwhelmed with fear that she just curled in on herself. Jax believed she was still trying to protect her baby.

On his way towards the garage Opie ran into a frantic Gemma, “I heard screaming. What the hell is going on?”

“This piece of shit hurt Y/N!” Opie growled, throwing the prospect onto the concrete. “ Jax is in the clubhouse with her now. You should probably call Chibs, it didn’t look good.”

Gemma shook her head and stomped away and into the clubhouse. She had already dialed Chibs by the time she opened the door and gasped as he answered the phone.

“What’s wrong doll?” the irishman asked.

“It’s Y/N. Maggot hurt her pretty bad and we’re gonna need your help. How soon can you be here?” Gemma asked.

“Shite! I am grabbing my med bag now. I’ll be there in five.” He said and Gemma could here him scrambling to grab his stuff, “Put pressure on any bleeding and try to keep her from hyperventilating” he demanded as the motorcycle rumbled to life before he hung up on her.

Gemma ran to the kitchen and grabbed some towels before making her way to Y/N and her son. She pulled Jax away and told him to call Tig and Happy. Tig could organize everyone coming in for church so they could vote on Mr. Mayhem and Happy needed to be told what was going on. Jax flipped open his phone and walked to the bar to make the calls.

Gemma slowly moved further into Y/N’s line of sight and spoke in soft, dulcet tones, “Hey, baby. How about you let momma check on you, huh?” Gemma had helped raise Y/N with some other members of the community. Her family had bailed on her when she was sixteen and the town came together to help her. The club provided her with a dorm room and Gemma has been her mother figure ever since. “There’s a lot of blood sweetie…” Gemma grimaced, “Can you show me where it is coming from? You're safe now, your brothers and I are gonna take good care of you.”

“Happy?” Y/N whimpered, looking around.

“He’s on his way.” Jax cut in, walking up behind Gemma and putting a hand on his mom’s back.

“I want Happy!” Y/N whined again pitifully.

“I know sweetheart. She’ll be here soon. How about you let Ma look at your arm huh? Get you cleaned up some before Happy gets here.” Jax asked, knowing it would coax her into letting Gemma touch her.

“Okay... “ Y/N said and slowly uncurled.

When Y/N released her arm, they both gasped. Gemma quickie covered her arm with one of the towels and applied pressure. There was a gash going up her arm. Starting on the outside of her wrist and wrapping its way past her elbow. Some of it was going to need stitches, judging on how deep it was.

Chibs came barrelling through the door and went straight to the bar sink to scrub his hands. He paced quickly over to the trio, still drying his hands.

“Hello dolly, can I have a look see?” Chibs spoke softly to her, noting that she seemed to have gone into shock. “Atta girl!” he commended, when she didn’t flinch when he moved to check her injuries.

She was beginning to develop a deep bruise on the right side of her face. It appeared that the hit had managed to fracture her cheek bone and she had earned a black eye from the mistreatment. He lightly prodded her neck making sure there was no damage to her trachea or esophagus and deemed that she would heal easily enough but be tender for the next week. When he went to press his palm to her stomach and check on the baby she locked her hand on his wrist, digging her nails into him. Her eyes began to fill with tears again as she shook her head with fear.

“Okay, okay darlin’. I’m not gonna hurt you or the baby. Just wanna check on them. Gemma, could you try to put your palm on her stomach? I wanna see if we can get a kick. That means we can skip the hospital… Maybe just have a house call for an ultrasound later?” Chibs tried to speak softly and hide his concern. It didn’t look like the bastard had been able to make contact with her small bump but he had to be sure.

Gemma slowly reached out and when Y/N made no move to stop her, placed the hand that wasn’t holding the towel to her adopted daughter’s stomach. She waited worryingly, hoping to feel the baby kick.

The clubhouse door slammed open again and a rumbling “Babygirl!” spewed frantically out of Happy’s mouth as he trekked across the clubhouse. Gemma sighed in relief when the baby shifted at the sound of their father’s voice and nodded at Chibs. Gemma slowly shifted away from Y/N and stood to stop Happy quickly.

“What are you doing, Gem? I gotta see her!” Happy growled, restraining himself from letting his anger unleash on the club mom.

“And you will see her. I just wanna make sure you’re gonna keep your head on straight. She is in shock if you come in all burly and pissed it won’t help her or the baby. Jax has already called a meeting and that shit will get what is coming to him, but right now you need to be here for Y/N.”, Gemma spoke quickly and with authority. “Now, if you can keep your cool, I am sure it would be a big help for you to sit with her and help Chibs.”

Happy nodded his head and stepped around Gemma. Quickly crouching to the ground to make sure Y/N could see him.

“Happy!” She let out in quiet relief.

He shook his head in attempts to subdue his anger, “Yeah babygirl! I’m here now. Hmm, let me take a look at you?”

She slowly turned her head as his hand caressed her chin and happily allowed him to press his palm to her stomach. The baby slowly kicked along his palm and he smiled in relief.

He turned to Chibs to ask what he needed to do. The irishman directed the Tacoma Killer to gently move his old lady to wear he was sitting against the wall behind her with her body cradled between his legs. Y/N tilted her head back to let it rest against her husband as he wrapped his arms around her. At Chibs instruction his right arm went around her shoulders, his left rested along her baby bump and bent his left knee so she couldn’t see her hurt arm.

“Alright, little pinch hun and then it shouldn’t hurt so bad, hmmm.” Chibs said.

He slowly unwrapped the arm and Y/N jolted when Happy growled in distaste. When she looked up at him to see what was wrong, he tilted his head down and nuzzled his nose against her unmarked cheek. Chibs quickly injected local anesthetic to multiple spots along the abrasion and waited several minutes before running a gloved finger along the injury. Y/N didn’t flinch in Happy’s arms and Chibs took that as a go ahead.

Chibs prepped his supplies and began to clean the gash of glass. Some shards had remained on the bottle when Maggot broke it and he wanted to make sure nothing was embedded when he began to suture. Y/N was slowly coming back to herself and tried to adjust to where she could see when she felt the tugging on her arm.

Happy easily distracted her with forehead kisses and talking through what was going on. He reassured her that something would be done about the prospect. When he mentioned that church was called, she shuddered and begged him not to leave. Happy consoled her to the best of his ability but nothing seemed to work. Jax overheard and let them know this was going to be the only exception of an old lady attending church. Chibs agreed saying that even though they knew Happy’s vote, he had a right to listen to everyone else’s. Plus Chibs was going to give Y/N’s nurse midwife, Tatum, a call as soon as he was done so he could give her pain medication. Y/N would probably sleep through the entire meeting anyways.

Chibs finished suturing her arm and told Happy to take her up to his dorm and help her shower. Happy agreed after Chibs explained that he should have an answer by then and could give her some medicine and wrap the sutures. Happy stood carefully before lifting Y/N into his arms.

He carried her up the stairs and sat her down on their bed. They had a house that was almost done being renovated and they decided to save money by moving back into the clubhouse for the time being. Happy was glad that they lived here, especially right now. He knew she was comfortable and everything was at his fingertips. He could easily lay them both out new clothes and get her comfort items.

“What do you wanna wear after your shower, babygirl?” Happy questioned, wanting to make sure she was comfortable.

Y/N shrugged but told him no when he went to open her loungewear drawer. She quickly directed him to his drawers with the point of her finger. He chuckled at her and pulled out one of her favorite shirts of his to sleep in. It was a faded grey t-shirt with Reaper Crew written in blue on the chest. He also grabbed her a pair of underwear, fuzzy socks and a pair of her sweatpants before quickly laying out new clothes for himself as well. He then scooped her up again and brought her to their bathroom. Y/N began to tear up again when Happy helped her take her shirt off, well his shirt off.

“No, no, no… don’t cry baby! I’m here now. What’s wrong?” Happy asked, concerned.

Y/N let out a whine, “I got blood on your shirt! It’s ruined!”

“Babygirl”, he couldn’t help but chuckle, “You’re crying over my shirt? I can fix that one easy! Just need the hydrogen peroxide.” He calmed her, wiping away her tears.

“Really? How do you know that?” She looked up at him hopeful and then confused.

He shook his head at her cute little scrunched nose, “I’m the Tacoma Killer babe!”, he elated with his arms spread wide, “I would have a very empty closet if I threw away clothes everytime a little blood got on them.”

Y/N giggled. Sometimes she would forget her husband’s renown and think of him as her reserved, badass. Happy corralled her into the shower and quickly stripped so he could join her. He grabbed new washcloths, before joining his wife in the shower.

The couple used this time to check in and reassure each other. Both clinged to the other, gently washing away the blood and trauma of the day. Y/N rested her head on his chest while he shampooed her hair. She braced her hands on his waist tilting her head so he could rinse away the suds.

Happy grabbed her chin and she could feel his chest rumble against hers as he growled at the marks on her neck and face. He leaned down and rubbed his nose against her cheek. Y/N quickly stood on her tippy toes and brought her lips to his. Happy let out a groan before posessively attacking her lips with his. Y/N could tell he was reclaiming “his territory” and she wasn’t mad in the slightest. She gasped when his teeth tugged on her lip and he happily delved into her.

By the time the couple was done showering, both felt reassured in their bond and were clean of Y/N’s blood. They both quietly changed into clean clothes and Y/N let out a quiet groan when the pain in her arm began to make itself known again. As soon as she was dressed, Happy wrapped her up in her beloved blanket and handed the turtle stuffie to her before scooping her up again.

When they reentered the clubhouse, the mess had been cleaned and it looked like nothing had happened. Gemma walked up to the pair and handed Y/N a plate covered in some of her favorite snacks and told her that her babies had to eat before kissing her head and walking off. The plate was filled with cubed apple, cheddar cheese, some strawberries, dill pickles, a few chunks of pumpkin bread and a handful of chocolate covered pretzels.

Happy then carried her into church and sat down. He pulled his legs across his and braced her back with his right arm before sneaking away some of her chocolate pretzels. She began to grumble at him when Chibs approached the duo. He smiled at the two before passing Happy a bottle of pills and a bottle of water.

“She can take up to two every eight hours. Two will knock her out and one will just make her a little loopy.” He told Happy before turning to Y/N, “You can go ahead and take two now. I need to apply an antibiotic to the stitches and then wrap your arm, then I’ll leave you be darlin.”

“You’re never a bother Chibby.” Y/N stated before swallowing the pills Happy placed in the palm of her hand, “Thank you for taking care of me”. Y/N reached out and gave Chibs’ hand a squeeze before he began to wrap her arm.

“Tatum will come by tomorrow morning for a check up on you and the baby. She assures me that we handled everything correctly and that the medication will have no ill effects on you or the baby. She wanted me to remind you to hydrate and let others take care of you”, he said, giving her a knowing look. “I am staying here tonight, just in case. We will need to rebandage everyday and the stitches should be able to come out in a week in a half or so.” Chibs informed them before pressing a kiss to Y/N’s palm and standing.

He walked out of the room and Y/N leaned further into Happy. She munched on the apple and cheese chunks and sipped on the water when Happy encouraged her to do so. She was about three quarters of the way through her plate when her head began to bob. Happy had to prod at her to keep eating what Gemma plated for her. After her head bobbed for the third time, Jax knocked on the door and stepped through.

He looked at Y/N softly and waited for Happy to nod “Let’s do this brother”

Slowly the rest of the patched club members filtered their way in. Jax took his seat, quickly followed by the rest of the main table. Jax slammed the gavel to start the meeting and smiled apologetically at Y/N when she jolted at the violent noise. Happy pushed the turtle plushie further into her arms and tucked her head into the crook of his neck.

Y/N let out a soft sigh of content and snuggled in, letting the medicine take full effect. She would jolt every once in a while when the guys allowed their anger to take control or raised their voices. The vote to indict Maggot to face Mr. Mayhem was unanimous but his sponsor decided to move charters before the vote. He didn’t feel right invoking Mayhem on his prospect but it was well deserved and the vote needed to be unanimous.

Within the hour, Happy was handing Y/N off to Gemma who was going to watch over her until the men were done. Jax normally would make the prospects stay with the women but he wanted them to see this. All of the crap that had happened was due to a prospect thinking he was the shit. Maggot forgot that the club is family and he certainly forgot the consequences that come with betrayal.

Jax easily approved of Happy killing Maggot in the same ways he hurt Y/N. He began by telling the man that the entire club voted for him to meet Mr. Mayhem and when the prospect had the audacity to try to spew more hate about Y/N Jax couldn’t control his anger. Completing one of the steps of the man’s death by driving his fist through his temple.

Maggot fell to the ground but didn’t stay there long. The prospect had enough wit to scramble backwards when Happy stalked towards him. The Tacoma Killer had a sick smile spreading across his face while stalking towards the piece of shit who hurt his wife. Happy wrapped his hands around Maggot's neck and lifting him into the air.

Maggot choked for breath and Happy laughed. The killer waited until it looked like Maggot was about to die and then released his neck. Maggot struggled to catch his breath and flinched when Opie busted a new beer bottle and handed it over to Happy.

“You thought we’d forget!” Jax yelled motioning for Tig and Half-Sack to pin the squirming Maggot down.

Happy dug the beer bottle into Maggot’s arm and when the disgrace began to wail Tig punched him again. Blood was flowing steadily from the gaping wound running towards the garage drains. Happy then went wild with the sharp glass, rapidly stabbing the man repeatedly until Opie pulled him off and knocked the bottle out of his hand.

Happy’s body shook with adrenaline and a growl worked his way up and out of his chest. The satisfaction of killing the bastard was battling his desire to drag it out. If he wasn’t itching to get back to Y/N and their unborn baby. He shook out the jitters and gladly accepted a work towel from Chibs. His clothes were a mess of blood.

Happy trekked across the lot and into the clubhouse before ripping off his clothes and shoving them into a bag. He hauled ass up the stairs in just his boxers. When he cracked open the door to his room, Gemma was sitting on his side of the bed reading a book and Y/N was curled around her plushie on top of the covers.

Gemma got off the bed, gave Happy a look and smiled when he nodded back. She pecked his cheek before heading out the door. Happy silently maneuvered through the dorm towards the shower. He rinsed his body until the water ran clear and then soaped up. Once out of the shower, he threw on clean boxers before nudging Y/N awake.

She squinted in annoyance until she realized it was him, “C’mon doll. Let’s get you ready for bed.” Happy encouraged, pulling her out of the bed and to the bathroom. He handed her a toothbrush and grabbed his, letting her lean on him sleepily while she slowly brushed her teeth. He motioned at the contact case once their teeth were clean.

Y/N was taking her contacts out when Happy asked “Music tonight?”

She bobbed her head in response, “Can you put on Florence and the Machine?”

He nodded, leaving the bathroom. Happy pulled for the fan, put the record Y/N requested on and pulled back the covers. He heard the toilet flush and looked up to see Y/N stumble back into their room. She toed out of her sweatpants and socks before snuggling under the covers up against Happy.

His arms went around her stomach and Y/N’s hands rested on top of his. He thumbed at the baby bump. It helped remind him that their baby was going to be okay and that Y/N was safe now. Y/N turned her head to nuzzle into Happy’s shoulder and breathed in his deep scent of cinnamon and sweet tobacco. Y/N dozed off to the sound of her murderous man’s heartbeat and “Never Let Me Go” playing in the background.

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