#i barely log on but everytime i do i feel like i’m losing my mind

[clowninthecoffeehouse]

fighting for my life defending jonelias in the tiktok comment sections. you guys just don’t get them like i do </333

[brokenbeskar]

Repairs

Chapter Five of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Word Count: 11.7k

Summary: You and the Mandalorian make an emergency landing on Utrost and need to find a way to pay for repairs

A/N: This one ended up a bit longer than I had originally intended, but I had a ton of fun writing it! Hopefully you all enjoy! <3

You and the Mandalorian hadn’t spoken another word to each other while in the confines of space. You’ve simmered down quite a bit since the other day. You’re still mad--of course you are! you had every reason to be. Only instead of a burning rage, it's subsided into a simple distaste for the man you have to share the confines of this ship with. You get the feeling he probably feels the same way. 

The two of you weren’t avoiding each other by any means, neither of you were that petty, but the both of you definitely made a point not to linger around the other for too long. If he was in the cockpit, you would spend your time in the hull, and vice versa. You were purely co-existing with each other, silently passing by each other without a word. There was no direct malice by it, but there wasn’t any friendliness either. You were simply co-workers. Co-workers who didn’t like each other, but needed one another to get the job done. 

You’ll admit, you’re a little embarrassed by how you acted the other day. Not that it was unjustified-- oh no, without a doubt, it was definitely justified. 

Even still, you usually have a pretty good handle on your emotions. To completely blow up on him like that wasn’t something you would have expected from yourself. It's not what you're used to. 

None of this was what you were used to, if you’re being honest. 

Working a job with someone else--someone other than your husband. It feels strange. Everything has felt strange since he died. Nothing feels quite right anymore, and the shit show that took place on Coruscant? Just feels like another log thrown into the burning pile of things that have gone wrong for you. 

You miss him. 

Everyday you do, but especially when things go wrong--when things get hard. Especially now that you're stuck in the confines of this ship while you limp your way to Utrost. There's nothing to do other than wait. 

You have the kid to keep you busy sometimes, but when he’s sleeping, or spending time with his metal clad guardian, you’re left with nothing but your wandering mind. Left with nothing to do but think of him. Letting your thoughts transport you to a simpler and happier time. When nothing else in the galaxy mattered so long as you had each other. 

You fully immerse yourself in reliving the little things. The sound of his voice--both how it sounded running through the filter of his helmet, but how smooth and utterly rich it sounded without it. The way he sounded calling out for you, adoration lining every inch of his voice, like he was falling in love with your name for the first time everytime he said it. The way it would sound when he would first wake up, gravelly and warm. The way he would let out a soft hum as he pulled you tight against him--the warmth of his strong arms wrapping around you.

 Maker, what you would give to be in his arms again. To be comfortably wrapped up in his embrace after all of this...he would make it feel like nothing bad had ever happened to begin with. What you would give to have him comfort you, tell you everything was going to work out, and tell you everything would be okay, just like he used to. 

***

You’re still shaking as you run a sterilizing agent over his wounds. Your heart is still beating just as fast as it was, despite you being back in the safe confines of your ship. He’s watching over you silently as you slowly and tenderly clean the blood, dirt, and grime from his damaged skin. He winces slightly when you apply pressure, and you immediately halt your actions and shoot him a worried look, your heart pounding against your chest. The last thing you want to do is hurt him. You’ve done enough of that today…

“It’s okay,” He reassures you, bringing his free hand up to lightly cup your cheek, gently running his thumb along the high of your cheekbone, “I’m okay.” He offers you a warm smile, but it just makes your gut wrench. 

“No thanks to me…,” You murmur, dropping your gaze back down to his injury, as you resume your work. 

“You’re not the one who came at me with a vibroblade.” He lets out a chuckle, “Not that I would be opposed if you did, could be sexy.” He shrugs lightly. More jokes. It’s always jokes with him, but you don’t find it funny. No, this was serious to you. 

When you don’t give any sort of response in return like usual, he knows something's off. Of course he had noticed you were shaken up, but he wrongly assumed it was lingering adrenaline from the incident. He reaches out and lightly catches the wrist of your working hand, halting you from continuing to work on his wounds. 

“What’s wrong, Sen’ika?” He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze.

You tighten your grip on the sanitizing wipe in your hand, “This isn’t the time for jokes.” You spit out seriously, “You’re injured. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse!” You can’t even look at his face, you just glance over all his injuries. With each one you see, guilt pools in your chest, the sharp pain of it weighing heavy as you breathe. “This is my fault...you got hurt because of me…” You trail off as you bring your free hand up to lightly trail your fingers over the skin next to the sizable gash across his upper arm. 

“Yeah, I got hurt, but it's not that bad...and it’s definitely not your fault, sweetheart.” He tugs at your wrist, bringing up to his face so he can trail tiny kisses along the side of it.

“But it is!” You yank your wrist back from his gentle grasp, “I messed up! I made a mistake! You had to come and save me, because I fucked it all up! Again! And this time--this time you got hurt! Maybe---maybe I’m just not cut out for this…” You trail off at the end defeatedly. 

“Ner laar sennar…,” He breathes out sweetly as he reaches out for you, placing his hands firmly on the sides of your shoulders, “We all make mistakes. I knew the risk I was taking when I rushed in like that. You’re too hard on yourself. You’ve only just started this job a few months ago, and yet you’re already better than most in the guild. You’re a very impressive and capable bounty hunter.” He rubs his thumb on your shoulder softly while he speaks, and it immediately puts you at ease. He had a point, he only taught you to fire a blaster and wield a vibroblade not even a year ago. Skills you never would have even imagined yourself capable of doing before you met him.

“...Thanks,” You finally look back up to him and give him a weak smile after a beat of silence, “A Mandalorian taught me.” 

“That’s my girl!” He beams at you brightly, then suddenly he's hauling you up from the ground where you're kneeling, and pulling you down against him from where he’s sitting in the pilot’s seat. The positioning is awkward and uncomfortable, so you shuffle your knees up onto the seat and around his hips the best you can. He loosens his grip on you only enough so you can wiggle into a more comfortable position in his grasp, wrapping your arms around him, before he's squeezing you again. 

You let out a contentful sigh as you nuzzle into the side of his neck, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair while his other slowly runs along your back. He presses a kiss to your temple.

“Bounty hunting is not an easy or glamorous job. Sometimes things go wrong, sometimes mistakes happen, and sometimes we get hurt. It’s part of it.” He buries his face into your hair, and takes a deep breath before planting another kiss to your temple, “But there’s always going to be another job, another bounty, and our wounds will heal with time. All we can do is move forward and press on...but, mesh’la?” The hand he’s been gentling running down your back back stills for a moment, pressing flat against the middle of it, “As long as you’re here, by my side, in my arms…,” He gives you a firm squeeze, “ just know that it’s all going to be okay.” 

And he was right. You know the risk that comes with the job. You still feel bad about what happened, but he was okay. You were okay. All you can do is move forward and press on. And with the way he was holding you against him so tight, his face pressed into your hair, yours in the side of his neck, the way his heart beat felt against your own, you had no doubt in your mind that everything was going to be just fine.

***

But instead you were alone. Sitting on the cold ground in the hull of a ship that wasn’t yours. The metal beneath you, a glaring reminder of the harsh reality you were living in instead of the fantasy you could lose yourself in forever. You hold your helmet--his helmet--tight to your chest, and you curl around it, wishing it could bring even a fraction of the same comfort that he always gave you.

You miss him.

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

Landing on Utrost couldn’t have come any quicker. The second you felt the ship make its clumsy landing in it’s assigned hangar, you practically jumped to your feet, rushing to find your go-bag. The thought of finally being off this ship--finally getting some fresh air--and maker, some real food. Ration packs were fine most of the time, but after only being able to eat them for weeks? You’re ready for something else. 

You hear the Mandalorian descend the ladder as you click your helmet on and hit a button on the hull wall to lower the ramp. You look over in his direction, and see he has the baby tucked away in a bag on the side of his hip. You can’t help but smile to yourself with the way The child’s big eyes barely peek over the top and his big green ears stick out the sides. You almost want to ask if you can take him with you, treat him to some local street food you’re positive he would love. But with the way things have been between you and the powerful man carrying him, you don’t bother. 

When the ramp finally lowers, you immediately make your stride down, trying to contain your excitement of finally being off the ship. When your feet hit the solid ground of the hangar beneath you, you can’t help but raise your arms above you and let out a much needed stretch. You already feel lightyears better than you did before, and you haven’t even stepped into the sun yet. 

The hangar bay you got assigned to was way bigger than it needed to be considering your ship's size. It could have easily fit three more of them and still have some room to easily move about the round space. It was half enclosed, a large rounded metal covering half of the hanger and engulfing it in shade, the other half open to allow for landing. There were parts scattered about in what you assume to be an unorganized fashion. Platform lifts and transport carts are abandoned throughout the area. It looked like this place hadn’t been used in ages. 

You barely notice when an exhausted looking mechanic slowly makes his way across the hangar as the Mandalorian descends the ramp behind you. He’s punching something into the holopad in his arm as he strolls over, his goggles pushed up onto his head, pulling his hair up into a wiry mess behind them. He feels so out of place. With a bay this size you would be expecting more mechanics, droids, anything. Instead it’s just one. Dragging his feet as he makes his way over to you. It’s only when he gets closer you realize how young he looks. 

He looks up from his holopad with a heavy sigh when he sees the state of the ship. You turn to take a look yourself and---stars, that’s bad. This is the first time you’ve been able to actually see the damage. Large scorch marks plastered heavily across the entire length of it, along with huge tears in the metal. It was a disaster.

“Looks like you two got yourselves in quite the mess.” He drawls out as he steps closer to further inspect the ship. “Whatever you hit, it did some pretty serious damage. Surprised you made it here in one piece.” He continues absently as he punches some notes into his holopad. 

“How soon can you have it repaired by?” The Mandalorian next to you questions, and the mechanic scoffs in response. 

“If my droids were still up and running? I could have had her ready for you by tomorrow night. But since it's just me now, It’ll take me a few days.” 

“How long is a few days?” The mechanic turns to stare him down, glaring into his visor. “A few days. And it will be a few days more if you decide to be a pain in the ass.” He quickly turns back to continue assessing the damage. You notice something, just barely--out of the corner of your eye, you have to turn slightly to get a better look, but you notice the Mandalorian’s fists tighten at his sides. His shoulders may even tense slightly, but you aren’t sure. It might just be your mind playing tricks on you. 

Up until this point you truly thought he was unbothered by this whole thing. Like his ship getting damaged and the bounty getting away was no big deal, just another day. He’s always so stoic, so composed--like all of the time. And he almost never talks, so it’s not like he could give it away verbally. It’s only now you’re realizing, from just the slightest flex of his fists, that the illusion of his helmet--having never seen his face--almost had you believe he was completely imperturbable. Like...you knew he was irritated the day you left Coruscant, but on the days that followed it never actually occurred to you that he might be just as angry and pissed off as you were about the whole thing.

 He was.

 He was just much better at hiding it than you were.

“Alright. Looks like repairs are gonna cost ya forty thousand.” He doesn’t even flinch when he tells you the amount, like it's no big deal, tapping loudly once on the holopad to finalize the estimate. 

You choke. 

The Mandalorian whips around so fast you’re worried he’s going to give the baby whiplash. 

“Forty thousand?!” You shout it louder than you mean to. You’re just in utter disbelief at the amount. He must have made a mistake--there's no way. That was way too much. That can’t be right at all. 

“That's what I said.” The mechanic taps the side of his holopad impatiently.

“Repairs are cheaper on Coruscant.” The Mandalorian snaps out.

“Then feel free to fly back to Coruscant.” 

“But I don’t understand, what exactly is costing that much?” You question anxiously. You clearly needed these repairs if you were to ever end up off this planet and back on the hunt, but where in the galaxy were you supposed to find that many credits?

“Lets see…” he starts scrolling through his holopad, listing off the repairs he’s taken note of for your estimate, “You’ve got a fuel leak, hyperdrive’s got some serious damage, gonna have to be replaced all together, right thruster damage, I assume your not running any higher than 40% efficiency, Got some busted power lines, and you’re gonna need a ton of rewiring, not to mention your reflector shields are damaged. Then we’ve got all the body damage to worry about.” He shakes his head to himself, “S’gonna be a lot of work and like I said, someone went and damaged all my droids so it’s just me now. Damn thugs…” He murmurs the last bit to himself quietly, but it piques your interest. 

“Thugs?” He just looks at you with pure hesitation in his eyes, like he so desperately wants to tell you everything but there's something holding him back. 

“Forty thousand for the repairs. Pay up or find someone else to repair your ship.” He repeats shortly. He goes to turn away, tucking his holopad into a holder on his side. 

“These thugs the reason your prices are so high?” 

He scoffs, “You really think I would be chasing away what little business I get with prices this high by choice?” He shakes his head with a sigh, “A group of spice runners moved in a couple months ago, been terrorizing the whole town since they got here. At first they were just using it as a way to transfer product, but then they got violent. They run the whole town now. You pay their prices, and do as they say, or you end up dead.” 

You settle back on your heels. Straighten out your shoulders and stand tall, resting your hands on your belt and tilt your helmet in his direction, a clever, perfect little plan forming in your brain. 

“How much would repairs be if--let's say...those spice runners weren’t a problem anymore?” You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly and you notice the Mandalorian turn his helmet in your direction. He clearly knows what you're getting at. At the same time the mechanic bursts into laughter, as if that's the funniest joke he's heard since the solstice. 

“If you could find a way to take care of Rrollesh and his gang? On maker, I'll give you your repairs for free!” He laughs his whole way through it, clearly not taking your proposition seriously.

You on the other hand? Looks like you just landed yourself a job. 

“Where can I find them?” 

The mechanic’s laughter fades and he locks eyes with your visor in a questioning manner, only just now realizing you’re being serious. “I mean, you take a quick walk around town you’re sure to run into them at some point. They don’t like strangers. Most days they play sabacc at the cantina towards the end of town.” 

“Of course they do.” You give the mechanic a firm grip on the shoulder, “You get started on those repairs, I’ll take care of the rest.” You give his shoulder a couple pats before turning towards the silent armored man next to you. 

“I’m going to go check things out. You should take the kid to get some real food. He’s probably more sick of ration packs than I am.” You can’t help but let out a small sigh at the realization that getting yourself some good food might have to wait. Just your luck.

“Going alone?” 

“I think I can handle it. Besides, I’m the one who took the job.” You shrug, already turning to make your leave.

“Let me know if you need backup” 

“Sure thing tin can” you call back to him with a dismissive wave of your hand as you continue your way out of the hangar.

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

Every step to the cantina was torture. By the time you finally got there and settled into a booth you almost completely forgot why you were there. All you could think about was food. 

Street vendors were tempting you at every corner, their sizzling goods reminding you exactly what you were missing. 

Every wiff you would catch through your helmet made your headspin. Sweet freshly baked pastries, smoky grilled meats, not to mention all kinds of exotic fruits--half of which you’ve never seen before, but looked delicious all the same. It all just made your stomach cry out and your need for real--fresh--delicious food only grow exponentially with every step. 

You settle further into your seat, propping a knee up on the edge of the table. Tapping a finger a couple of times on the top of it where your hand rests. You let out a light huff of air. Hopefully the kid was having a good time right now. You can imagine his little cheeks stuffed to the brim with whatever his metal clad guardian would give him. The way his little hands would probably be already reaching for more before he even finished chewing, that greedy little bug. 

You’re beyond lost in your thoughts you don’t even notice the sudden shadow looming over you. It’s not until the violent BANG of a vibroblade being stabbed threateningly into the top of your table catches your attention and you realize you’re being crowded around. You look at the blade blankly, and slowly follow it up the strong arm of the stranger holding it. 

You lock your visor to the face of one very sizable Trandoshan. A large and gnarly looking scar splitting across his entire sandy scaled face, clouding one of his eyes in its path.

“Mandalorian…” He hisses out, deep and guttural, as a sly smirk breaks out revealing large sharp teeth, “What brings you to my bar?” 

You lean back in the booth, this must be that Rrollesh the mechanic was talking about. And if he wasn't, well you get the feeling he could definitely take you to him. You look slightly to your left, to take note of the various others crowding around you. Five of them, all boxing you into your booth, leaving you no escape. It's an interesting mix of smugglers to say the least. None look nearly as impressive as the clear leader in front of you, but you don’t doubt they would put up a good fight. 

The scarred Trandoshan pulls his blade out from the table, pulling your attention back to him. 

“I like your armor...Beskar goes for a lot these days.” He growls out lowly, pointing his blade in your direction. 

“Always does.” You reply coolly, “Mandalorian steel is one of the most durable materials, and very rare. Nearly impossible to get your hands on.” 

“Then you know why I want yours.” He inches his blade towards one of your pauldrons, close enough so he can press the tip of it against your metal, and it takes every fiber of your very being not to rip his damn arm off right then and there. His smirk grows wider and there's a dark chuckling from his goons next to you, that you choose to ignore. Keeping your visor locked to his eyes, trying to keep your relaxed composure, despite the obvious tension that's building.

“Mine’s in bad shape.” You shrug finally after a moment of silence, “But if you’re interested in Beskar I have a proposition that might interest you.”

“Do you seem like you’re in a position to be making deals right now?” 

“You seem like a smart guy,” you lie, “And I happen to know someone with a full set of Beskar probably worth twice what mine is.” The offer comes out of your mouth before you even realize what you're doing, but you're hoping he takes the bait.

The Trandoshan hums dark and grovely in his throat before silently taking a seat in the booth opposite to you. “Keep going” He encourages. Bingo.

“I’m here on a job, I’m hunting a Mandalorian. He escaped from me on Coruscant, but had to make an emergency landing here after the damage I did to his ship. He’s dangerous. Heavily armed, and in a full suit of freshly forged Beskar. One of the most skilled fighters I’ve ever gone against.” You move to rest your arms on the back of the booth, trying your best to seem as relaxed as possible while you lie straight out of your ass. You’re not even sure what you’re doing yet, just kind of making shit up as you go. 

“What exactly are you asking of me?” He leans forward in his seat squinting at you, still holding his blade.

“If you and your men help me catch my quarry, you can take his armor.” 

“I thought beskar belonged to the Mandalorians? Wouldn’t that be going against your own kind?” 

You shake your head dismissively, “I’m not a Mandalorian. I don’t care what happens to it so long as I get paid for my work.” 

He gives you a disbelieving look with a tilt of his head.

“Stole it off a dead guy.” you say nonchalantly as you notion to your armor with both hands, without moving your arms from their place on the back of the booth.

He lets out a hearty laugh, “I like you” he says waving his blade back in your direction, “I’ll help you catch your Mandalorian.” he nods with a smile, “what's your plan?”

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

“Mandalorian, you there?”

“Need backup?” His voice crackles through the static of the comm

“Not exactly.” 

“What does that mean?” He asks, suspicious of your ambiguous answer. 

“I found Rrollesh. Well, he found me I guess, we struck a deal.” 

“A deal?” “I told him if he helped me kill you he could have your armor” You confess bluntly.

There's a beat of silence, and you’re almost worried he’s going to hang up on you.

“You what?” He finally asks

“It’s not like it sounds.” You reassure him, but after you’re met with nothing but silence in return you continue, “We made a plan to ambush you tonight--”

“You’re not helping your case.” He cuts you off abruptly. 

“Just listen! We made a plan to ambush you tonight, but what's going to happen instead is we’re going to ambush them. I’m going to turn against them and you’re going to help me take them out.” you sound more confident than you feel explaining your half-baked whim of a plan, but you’re hoping he’ll go along with it. Your only other real option if he decides not to go along with it is to show up guns blazing and hope for the best, which didn’t seem ideal. 

“Don’t you think they’re planning the same thing?” He sounds dubious at best, but the fact he’s not outwardly declining gives you a spark of confidence.

“Oh, I know they are, the difference is they need me to help take you out. They probably plan to kill me after I help kill you. So if we beat them to it, we have nothing to worry about.” You shrug despite him not being able to see it. 

“How many are there?”

“No clue. There were six at the cantina including Rrollesh himself, but he said he’s bringing more.” 

“Where are you planning this ambush?” 

“I told them I would lure you to the middle of town, they're going to hide and try to surround you once you get there. Box you in. The second they make the jump for you, that's when I’ll turn on them.” 

“Should be easy enough.” His words are like honey in your ears, instant relief fills your entire body. 

“My thoughts exactly. Start heading down in three hours, I’ll have to meet back up with Rrollesh and his men and I don’t want to be seen with you until then.” “Copy that.” 

You’re about to turn off the comm and get ready to meet back with Rrollesh, but you hesitate. “Oh, before I forget!” You call out quickly before either of you can disconnect.

“What is it?” 

“Try not to shoot me this time, tin can.” You joke, your smirk almost audible in your voice.

“Try to communicate with me before you jump out from some crates and then maybe we have a deal. No promises though.” You hear his commlink click off the line. You know he was joking back, but something about his wording makes you freeze up. You sit there, alone with the static of your open comm ringing in your ear with the sudden realization. You keep replaying what he just said over and over in your head…

“Try to communicate with me before you jump out from some crates and then maybe we have a deal.” 

“Try to communicate with me…”

“Try to communicate…” 

Somehow, it’s only now that it hits you. This whole time you were blaming everything about what happened on Coruscant on the Mandalorian. This whole time, everything went wrong because of the things he did. Because he was an idiot, because he didn’t know any better. He kept getting in your way because he just couldn’t help but be obnoxious. 

But that wasn’t the case at all. 

You kept getting in each other’s way because neither of you had bothered to communicate. You mistakenly assumed he was the one to speak to the jeweler because you never bothered to ask him. Your bounty escaped through the window because you didn’t tell him what was going on until she already started to escape. You got shot because you didn’t bother to tell him your plan to flank her, and just jumped out in front of his shot. 

What happened on Coruscant was just as much your fault as it was his. And not because you weren’t good enough, or because he was stupid and didn’t know what he was doing, but because the two of you were bad at communicating with each other. You were too busy working against him instead of with him. 

Maker, you were a fool. 

All those insults you slung at him should have also been said to yourself. Now you’re really embarrassed. The realization of this should have come to you way sooner. Were you really so prideful you hadn’t noticed? So cocky in your own abilities, you were blind to your faults? 

No, that's not it at all. In fact, you realize, it’s probably the exact opposite. You struggled immensely every step of the way on that job. You felt so inadequate, so mediocre, so second-rate. In the height of your self consciousness you lashed out at him. You were blinded not by your pride, but by your shame. Your fear that you weren’t good enough, and he would be able to see that, that anyone would be able to see that. 

You feel incredibly guilty now. Down right bad. A sinking in the pit of your belly that almost makes you nauseous. You definitely owe him an apology. Whether or not he wants one, you owe it to him, even if only to clear your own conscience. 

For now though, you’ve got a job to finish. And you’re going to make sure you do a damn good job finishing it. 

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

“Ah! You made it!” Rrollesh calls out to you as you stroll out into the open area of the town where you agreed to meet, “I was starting to suspect you wouldn’t show.” His deep and guttural voice rumbles out in a dark tone as you approach him. 

You glance around him. Only three others are standing about. You tilt your visor at the large scaled man in front of you questioningly, “These are the only men you brought with you? I might as well be taking the Mandalorian on myself.” You scoff

“Oh no, not at all. The others are already stationed and waiting. Don’t you worry.” The threatening tone of his reassurance, followed by the sickly, toothy smile he shoots you, definitely confirms the fact that he is planning on killing you. You pretend not to notice.

“Good. Since these are your fighters, and this is your town, where do you want me?” You hope by giving him the illusion of control he’s less likely to suspect anything coming from you. 

Besides,

You know damn well no matter where he puts you, you’ll end up on top either way. 

“You and Tarsi are going to hole up there and wait for my signal.” He points up to the roof of a building to your right, “I’ll take the other two towards the front so we can close him off.” He points behind you where he intends on hiding out with the other two smugglers. 

You nod in confirmation, and go to make your way to your assigned spot, one of the smugglers trailing close behind you. This Tarsi, you assume, is...unimpressive--to say the least. He’s small, too eager as he jogs next to you to keep up with your pace, and seems far too excited about the prospect of taking down a mandalorian. 

And he won’t stop talking to you. 

You don’t even know about what, you tuned him out almost immediately after he opened his mouth for the first time. You just know he wouldn’t stop making noise. The whole way to your assigned spot, he was blabbing away. The whole time he set up his long range rifle, and adjusted his scope, he was. Still. Talking. 

At one point you notice while you’re settled down and looking out waiting for a signal--or any sign of the Mandalorian, that he’s been continuously scooting himself closer to you until there’s barely a gap between the two of you at all. 

“I just really like that in a woman…,” Were the only words you suddenly catch from him, as you feel his hand on your thigh. 

You shoot a threatening stare right into his eyes through your visor, which were already locked onto you. Only, he doesn’t get the hint. 

“I’m sure you’re just as beautiful under all that armor as you are with it on…” He continues, and his thumb gently runs a small circle on your thigh where his hand rests. 

How long exactly had he been hitting on you before you noticed? And how did he take your complete utter silence as interest? 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything, I’ll take good care of you.” The way his voice drops into a sultry tone, and he starts to slide his hand up higher on your thigh, it's too much. You immediately grab his wrist and forcefully rip it from your leg, nearly crushing it in your grip as you continue to stare daggers at him. 

He winces at the force of it, but somehow, someway, he still doesn’t understand, “You like things rough I see, no problem. I’ll do whatever you want once this is all over. Does the helmet stay on or is there a chance I get to see your beautiful eyes?” 

You practically throw his wrist away from you. The audacity of him, to think you would actually be interested in sleeping with him. You can’t take it anymore, slowly you reach your hands out and gingerly place them on either side of his face. “You want a kiss sweetheart? No problem, I’ll give you a taste of--” You cut him off with a rough twist, and the awfully delightful sound of his neck snapping, causing him to immediately go limp in your arms. You roughly toss his body away from you in disgust. Thank the maker that was finally over. 

You shake your head lightly to yourself to regain your composure, and turn back just in time to see the familiar shine of the Mandalorian as he walks through the seemingly abandoned street. He pauses right in the middle of the road, in the middle of where everyone is hiding out.

There's a moment, a moment of absolute silence, as the armored man stands in the middle of the road unmoving. 

You can practically taste the tension in the air. It’s like time stops. Every moment suspended in mid-air waiting for the drop. 

You start to question whether or not you missed the signal, were they all waiting on you? You didn’t see or hear anything....kriff, what if it happened while you were snapping that guy's neck? 

 Clink. Clink. Clinkclinkclink clink

A metal canister bounces out across the street and rolls to a stop, drawing both the attention of you and the Mandalorian.

The can starts to hiss lightly, before the hiss erupts suddenly into a plume of fog that quickly begins to fill the street. 

That's the signal. 

Just as quickly as fog fills the street, consuming the Mandalorian in it’s haze, smugglers emerge and drop down from their various hiding spots, and with it their shouts and yells as they make a charge for their target.

Blaster fire lights up the fog filled street in smears of color, and you can hear how it ricochets off your accomplice’s beskar. 

You quickly scramble to grab the long range rifle next to you, and switch the setting on your helmet’s hud so you can easily see the heat signatures through the fog. Quickly searching around with your scope you lock on one of the poor souls still emerging from their hiding place. You squeeze the trigger, and fire. 

Your blaster bolt whistles through, lighting up the fog around it as it makes perfect contact with your target, sending them dropping limply to the floor. 

You’re immediately locking onto another target, you fire, direct hit. 

You can hear the clashing below you as the Mandalorian fights on the ground, and you take aim on another target. There's too much going on down there, you don’t feel like you can get a clear shot. Heat signatures are overlapping, and people are moving too quickly. You attempt to take a shot when you think you have an opening, but a blaster bolt gets ricocheted in your direction, causing you to jerk away just as you squeeze the trigger, and you miss. 

You let out a frustrated growl and readjust your hold on the rifle, rolling your shoulder back to loosen up before you take aim. You scan through the fog, through the heat signatures, it’s easy to spot the Mandalorian like this. His beskar makes his heat signature entirely unique. He’s being surrounded by five or six men, all haphazardly lunging at him, trying to overwhelm him with their number alone. 

Quickly you flick on your comm as you aim at one of the men circling behind him.

“Careful on your left.” You warn, just as you pull the trigger, sending your bolt whizzing right over his shoulder and making direct contact with the man behind him, sending him collapsing to the floor. You see the Mandalorian quickly look behind him as the body collapses, then shoots his glace directly to where your shot came from, directly at you. 

He doesn’t have the chance to even think about flicking his comm on before another is making a charge at him. As much as you have a vantage point where you are, you have a need to be there on the floor with him. You’re not a bad shot, but it’s not your strongest skill, and you know you would be much more effective in close combat. 

“I’m coming down, hang tight!” You flick your commlink back off and hop down to the ground beneath you. You keep low, sneaking the best you can through the fog. You’re not sure if anyone has noticed yet, that you’ve turned on them. Best to keep it that way as long as you can. Surely Rrollesh has noticed your absence, but then again, you haven't seen him either. 

You draw your blade, and grip it tight in front of you as you make your way through the fog. You slow your pace and quiet your steps as you begin to come up behind someone, firing their blaster in the Mandalorian’s direction. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve done this, adrenaline rushes through you everytime, your heart pounding as you slowly and carefully sneak up right behind them. It squeezes in your chest when you finally make the lunge for them, clamping a hand over their mouth as you drive your blade deep into them. You let out a deep breath as you rip your blade back out and let their body drop to the floor. 

But there's no time for relief, you hear someone behind you and immediately whip around to see another one of Rrollesh’s men staring you down with their comrades body by your feet. You waste no time gauging their reaction, and quickly rush towards him. He readies up both of his vibroblades and lunges right back at you with pure ferociousness. 

Your blades clash together violently, grinding against each other as sparks fly from the impact. You’re unrelenting in your offense, one powerful jab after another, as you continue to push him back, crowding him with your attacks. He struggles to block each one, not even getting a chance to make an attack on you. The pure force from each hit, forcing him to take several steps back. 

He steps sideways when you make another lunge for him, causing you to swipe nothing but air. You whip around just in time to barely block his oncoming attack. Your blades lock together and you shove him back with as much force as you can muster, sending him stumbling backwards. You waste no time barreling forward, knocking him to the ground, and rushing to pin him down, plunging your blade deep in his chest.

“I should have known…,” You shoot your gaze up at the unmistakable sound of Rrollesh’s deep and guttural voice. He takes a heavy step towards you, his figure transforming from a blurry shadow to a clear image of the hulking Trandoshan before you. “Do you intend to make a fool of me?” He growls out threateningly. 

You rip your blade out from the body beneath you without a word, keeping the gaze of your visor fixed on his. You’re trying to mask how heavy your breathing from the earlier fight, keeping yourself as still as possible as he towers over you. 

“I want both those Mandalorians dead! Kill them both!” He roars through the fog, taking a step back, “I want both their helmets on my wall!” He lets out a dark and throaty laugh, watching you jump to your feet as two of his goons rush for you.

You clash blades with the first one, spinning around to elbow the second right in the face as he tries to grab you from behind. You’re barely able to bring up your vambrance in time to block the first one coming right back at you again full force. His blade runs hot grinding against your beskar, the sparks lighting up your visor in a brilliant display of color. You kick him as hard as you possibly can in the gut, sending him barreling to the ground, only for you to be grabbed roughly from behind, a blade to your throat. 

You struggle to hold the blade back, and try to shake him loose. Roughly jostling left and right to no avail, before finally mustering the strength to haul him over your shoulder. You succeed, but it’s sloppy, the force of it throwing you to the ground next to him. Pure adrenaline pumps through your veins as you swipe at him with a shout of fury from where you are on the floor. He’s frantically crawling backwards away from you, as you continue to furiously swipe at him. 

His partner suddenly lunges on top of you, and makes a jab at you at the same time you quickly roll over in his grasp. His blade plunges into your side, causing you to scream out in pain as you feel the blade shred through your flesh in the exposed portion just beneath where your chest plate ends. You still feel the burning heat of pain radiating from your gushing wound as he rips the blade back out of you.

You struggle in his grasp as he makes another jab for your neck. You’re barely able to roll just enough sideways that he hits the ground next to you. You violently thrash as he slams your pauldron back down into the duracrete beneath you, as you’re straining to reach for your blaster with your non-dominant hand, trying to ignore the searing pain from your fresh wound. 

He lifts up, readying his blade to make the final blow, just as you manage to get a grip on your weapon. 

Hastily you squeeze the trigger just as he comes down full force.

BAM 

He falls limp on top of you, His blade still thrumming wildly as it falls from his grip. You don’t even take a second to breathe as you hear quickening footsteps from above you. 

You swiftly wrestle your arm from underneath the dead body on top of you and tilt your helmet against the floor, just enough to aim at his partner barreling towards you, and fire. 

His body skids to a halt next to you as it falls, and you’re finally able to take a breath. You rest your head back against the ground with a metallic thud as you try to steady your breathing, before hauling the body off of you and straining to get back to your feet with your hand clamped to your injured side, still clutching your blade.

How many more were there? You alone had already taken out eight men, who knows how many the Mandalorian had taken out. This was way more than you were expecting, and you haven’t even gotten to Rrollesh yet. You quickly look down at your hand holding your wound to assess the damage. There's blood, but not too much. Could be worse, you can still fight. 

With your blaster drawn and ready, still in your non-dominant hand, you quickly make your way to the middle of the road where you can hear the clash of the Mandalorian fighting off another enemy.

You make it just in time to see the body drop to the floor, and join the various others scattered around the armored man’s feet. He’s been busy too apparently. 

“Good to see you still standing, shiny.” You quip as you circle around to be back to back with him, scanning the fog for more enemies. 

“Looks like you’re barely able to.” He teases back as the two of you stand ready for any further oncoming attacks. 

“I’ve seen worse.” You shrug, “There can’t be much more of them left.”

You hear Rrollesh’s voice break through the fog, but you don’t see him. 

“I’m sick of playing games.” He bellows out, “This ends now!” You hear the unmistakable clinking of another metal canister bounce onto the road, only this time, as soon as the hissing erupts into another cloud of fog, you’re blinded. 

Your entire vision through the visor is filled with a bright blaring white. You quickly shield your eyes, but find the light isn’t letting up. It takes you a second to feel the hot air as it surrounds you. It wasn’t a flash bomb, no this was definitely a fog--a mist of some kind, but the heat of it was fucking up your visor. 

“What the hell is that?!” You shout quickly struggling to swap the setting on your helmet as you try to recover from the blinding light of it.

“Some kind of thermal screen.” The Mandalorian grunts out, clearly struggling as much as you with the sudden blindness. 

It’s abruptly clear to you now that the two of you were now at a disadvantage. Your thermal scanners now rendered absolutely useless. You were completely blind.

You and the Mandalorian continue your guard, back to back as you slowly circle around just waiting for the attack. 

You hear him before you see him, one of Rrollesh’s goons shouting as he rushes the both of you. Your armored partner clashes with him first, cutting in front of you to block the man’s blade with his vambrace. At the same time, a blaster shot zips through the air and collides with your chest plate, forcing you to take a step back. 

You fire back in the same direction it came blindly, simply hoping for the best. There was no way you could aim properly while blinded like this. You’re barely able to see a foot in front of you. Another slurry of blaster shots get sent your way, knocking against your chest plate and pauldron as the Mandalorian continues to push back against the blade wielder. You take another shot, focusing directly where the last one came from, and praying for a hit. 

There's no way to know for sure until this is all over, but with the grunt you hear, and the clatter of something falling, you're almost positive it hits. While you’re focusing on that, another smuggler jumps out from the fog and onto the back of the Mandalorian, trying to hold him steady so the other can get a clear shot. You hear the struggle behind you and swiftly turn around to help. 

The Mandalorian gives a couple quick elbow jabs to the man holding him in a lock, loosening his grip just enough he can rip him off. At the same time, you ready your blade and make a fierceful jab right into the side of the other man, causing him to double over and clutch his side in pain. Which leaves him wide open for you to deliver the finishing blow. His body hits the ground at the same time you hear the Mandalorian fire off two blaster shots, followed by the thud of another body. The deadly combination of you both made you feel unstoppable. Even with your injury, there was no doubt in your mind the two of you were walking away from this. 

You resume your defensive position, back to back, standing ready for any further attacks.

But no one comes. 

Silence fills the street again, revealing just how heavy your breathing is after all of this fighting and your injury. You feel sweaty under your helmet, your hair sticking to your face, while you focus on the empty fog in front of you. 

A sudden bone chilling, angered roar rips through the fog.

“I’ll kill you!” Rrollesh roars out in pure fury, “I’ll kill you myself! Tear you limb from limb! Make you suffer! Beg for me to end it!” You can almost feel the vibration from his powerful growl as it echoes through the street surrounding you. It feels like it’s coming from all around you all at once, leaving you unable to pin his exact direction. 

He continues to growl out angrily, animalistic huffs of pure, raw rage. You think he's circling the both of you. Like a predator stalking its prey. Waiting for his moment to strike. Or maybe, he was building himself up, letting the rage boil up inside of him, working himself up to the point of no return. 

You notice something out of your peripheral, and you instinctively quickly move to dodge out of the way. Just in time for a hulking, mass of metal to come slicing through the fog and collide with the ground with an ear splitting clang. 

Rrollesh roars out as he lifts the weapon again, swinging back at you full force. You’re just able to move back enough for it to just barely miss your chest plate by a hair's width. Too close for comfort. The weapon was brutal, the biggest vibroaxe you had ever seen. The sheer mass of it alone was enough to spark fear in the hearts of many, combined with its gnarled edges, it felt like a weapon of nightmares. The brute strength alone needed to wield it seemed only appropriate for the towering reptilian before you. 

You keep moving back with every one of his powerful swings, dodging becomes more and more difficult with your wound seering in pain with every movement. The Mandalorian fires his blaster at Rrollesh, but despite his size, and the insanity of the weapon he's holding, Rrollesh spins, bringing the flat of the axe up to block the oncoming bolt. How was he so quick? It seems impossible. 

With his attention now turned toward your partner, the hulking Trandoshan makes a charge towards the Mandalorian, seeming to block his oncoming blaster fire with ease. He makes several wide swings, the Mandalorian barely able to dodge himself despite the lack of injury on his part. With every swing Rrollesh lets out a bone chilling growl while he advances on the Mandalorian. 

You attempt to intervene, rushing the absolute mammoth before you, and driving your blade deep in his vulnerable side, left exposed from his wide swings. He barely reacts, and you panic when you attempt to drive it out, only to find your blade is stuck within his tough flesh.

You quickly abandon your blade, and lurch back creating as much space between the two of you as you can. He slowly turns towards you, his scarred eye burning a hole through you, as he snarls, baring his incredible sharp teeth. You think he’s going to make another swing at you, try to bring you to the ground, but he surprises both you and the Mandalorian when he suddenly swings back around bringing his blade down full force on the chrome beskar. 

There’s a terrifying display of color as sparks nearly blind you when the axe makes contact with the beskar. The pure force from the blow sends the Mandalorian flying backwards with a wrecked grunt. You know the power from it had to have hurt, and bad. Probably knocked all of the air from his lungs, and made his head spin. Perhaps he was even knocked unconscious. 

And when he doesn’t get up from the ground, you know you’re right.

Rrollesh wastes no time advancing on him, his intention to finish the job is clear as he stomps over to the weak body of the armored man on the floor. You quickly move to stop him, firing your blaster as rapidly as you can haphazardly, even if only to serve as a distraction long enough for your partner to recover--and move. Quickly. 

Rrollesh turns back to face you, and lets his nightmare of a weapon rest on the ground, dragging it behind him as he rapidly advances towards you. You’ve seen a lot in your time travelling through the galaxy, you’ve experienced the worst of the worst. Hardly anything phases you anymore.

But this?

Rrollesh, and his imposing figure barrelling towards you with such determination--such speed--pure rage apparent in his eyes--as you hauls that massive, hulking, terror of an axe behind him? 

You feel fear. 

Not adrenaline, not the rush of battle--

But for the first time in a long time, you feel pure, bone chilling terror pouring through your veins. 

You don’t even have time to process the ice you feel creeping down your spine as you attempt to fire more rounds at him. Which of course, he manages to block with ease. Just when he gets within distance of you, he swings at you. You manage to dodge, but not quick enough, his swing clips your hand, sending your blaster skittering across the street, and a searing pain shooting through the entirety of your arm, sending you to your knees, clutching your hand in absolute agony. 

You quickly shoot a glance behind the man towering over you. The Mandalorian was still on the floor, but he’s moving. Groaning as he tries to shakily pick himself up from the floor. 

But you shouldn’t have done that.

Because it draws the attention of Rrollesh, who quickly abandons you when he’s reminded of his task to finish him off. Before you can even shout to warn your partner of the impending attack, Rrollesh is already hauling his massive axe into the air. 

Without thinking--without even realizing it, you jump to your feet and activate your whipcord thrower, sending a line of fibercord wrapping around the powerful weapon in Rrollesh’s grasp. You struggle to keep your hold on it, the brute strength from it’s wielder causing your heels to drag lightly beneath you.

He glances at you over his shoulder with an irritated growl and yanks his axe to the side with such a force, it sends you flying forward, and skidding across the duracrete road beneath you. He swings in the opposite direction, dragging you with it as you try your best to keep your hold. You struggle to hold your vambrace steady long enough that you can hit the button.

But as soon as you do, an electric current is suddenly ripping down the length of your fibercord, lighting up around both you and Rrollesh as the bolts of electricity consume his hulking metal axe. He lets out a deafening roar of pain as he releases the weapon, sending it clattering to the ground. You quickly yank it away from him, pulling it far out of his reach.

In a blind fit of rage, Rrollesh goes to grab at the Mandalorian despite not having a weapon, needing some release for his boiling anger. But instead, he’s met with a burst of red hot flame from the mandalorians built in flame thrower. 

Rrollesh stumbles back from the heat, bringing his arms up to shield his face. Leaving him completely distracted and totally exposed. This is your chance. Despite your throbbing pain, you muster up every ounce of your strength to shakily get to your feet, grab your blaster, and quickly come right up behind him. Readying your blaster to fire, once, twice, three times in the back of his scaled head. 

He collapses to the floor with a powerful thud. 

You still have your blaster up as you stand there, trying to steady your breathing. You let your arm drop limply to your side with a deep exhale. It was finally over. You look over to the Mandalorian still on the ground in front of you, his visor fixed to Rrollesh’s dead body as his chest heaves, breathing just as heavy as you. 

You walk over to him, holstering your blaster and clutching your injured side. You hold your free arm out to him, which he takes, and you help haul him up from the floor. 

“See? I told you it would be easy.” You give his shoulder a playful whack as you let out a light chuckle.

He just locks his visor to yours for a second, before dejectedly shaking his head at your antics. 

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

“Well would you look at that? You actually made it out alive.” Is how the mechanic decides to welcome you back as you and the Mandalorian enter the hangar. 

“How are the repairs coming?” You ask as you approach him.

“They’re done already. Got it done a bit quicker than I thought.” He nods, before looking you up and down, clearly noticing the way you're gripping your side, “You take care of Rrollesh?”

You fish out the credits you pocketed from Rrollesh’s body earlier, and toss them at the mechanic. He catches the hefty bag in pure disbelief. 

“Think those belong to you.” You nod your helmet towards him. He pauses, staring at you for a moment, before quickly opening up the bag and nearly gasping at the amount of credits inside.

“Thank you.” He says finally, hooking the bag onto his belt. “I owe you--this whole town owes you. You’ve done us a huge favor.” You can feel the sincerity in his voice.

“That enough to cover our repairs?” You tease, tilting your helmet to the side. 

“And then some.” He laughs nodding, “You’re lucky I didn’t charge you extra for having to watch that little womp rat.” He notions in the direction of the ship with a tilt of his head. 

You let out a laugh despite the pain from your injury, “Thank you, I know first hand what a pain he can be.” 

“He was good actually. Let him run around the hangar for a bit and he’s been sleeping peacefully ever since.” The mechanic crosses his arms in front of his chest, “Next time you find yourself in this sector, stop by. I’ll give you a tune up on me.” 

The Mandalorian speaks up this time as he passes you to board the ship, “I’ll hold you to that.” And then he’s already up the ramp and you and the mechanic watch as he disappears into the hull. 

“Until next time.” You give the mechanic a final nod before you head up the ramp yourself, “And hey, get yourself some new droids, you deserve it!” You exchange a wave before closing the ramp to the ship. 

It doesn’t take long before you feel the ship rumble to life beneath you as you grab yourself a medkit. You situate yourself on a crate, and begin working at removing your armor as the ship takes off into the familiar confines of space. 

By the time you finish applying a healthy dose of bacta, and are working to wrap a thick bandage around your middle, the Mandalorian has already made the jump into hyperspace, and is descending the ladder of the cockpit to join you in the hull. 

He doesn’t acknowledge you at all as he makes his way to the alcove and opens the compartment to check on the kid. You barely make a glance at him, too busy tending to your own wounds as he scoops the sleeping child up into his arms. 

“Shouldn’t wake him” You warn, not lifting your gaze from your work as you fasten your bandages. He practically ignores you, not saying anything as he gives Grogu a light stroke to his forehead, drawing out the smallest of coos from the sleepy bundle. The Mandalorian is careful as he moves to take a seat on a crate opposite from you, cradling the child in his arms. 

It was amazing to you, the striking contrast of the powerful bounty hunter, and how soft he was for this child. He clearly cared deeply for the little thing, a vulnerability you never would have expected. 

“How are your wounds?” The Mandalorian asks quietly, lifting his gaze from the child to address you. 

“Nothing some bacta can’t fix. Like I said, I’ve seen worse.” You shrug as you readjust your undershirt.

“Good.” Is all he says in return, and fixes his gaze back on the child. 

You watch the two of them, unabashedly. Nearly enjoying the silence after today. But then you remember the realization you had earlier before the fight.

“Thanks for helping me with the job.” You finally speak out, rolling your head back to release some of the tension in your neck, “couldn’t have done it without you.” You admit quietly. 

“And uh…” You start, and he lifts his helmet again, tilting his visor slightly as he waits for you to finish, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” His voice is quiet, clearly trying not to wake the child. 

“For how I acted back on Coruscant.” 

“It’s fine.” He dismisses you, before you even get the chance to elaborate. This clearly wasn’t bothering him as much as it was bothering you. 

“It’s not fine.” You give him a stern look, “We accepted the job together, I should have been working with you not against you. And I definitely shouldn’t have put it all on you when things went south.” He looks back up to you, but doesn’t say anything. What could he even really say? 

“That was a tough job for me...,” You continue after a long silence between the two of you , “And I let my own insecurities get the best of me. So I’m sorry. I-I havent…,” You hesitate, taking a moment to figure out how you want to word this, “...It’s been awhile since I’ve worked with anyone else so try to bear with me while I get back into the swing of things.” 

The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything at first. He stands and gently puts the child back into his hammock in the alcove and shuts the door. You honestly don’t think he’s going to say anything, just leave your sincerity hanging in the air. 

“I’m surprised by your insecurity.” He surprises you when he does speak. Not only because he spoke, but because that's definitely not at all the response you were expecting. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, tilting your head at him confused by his odd response. 

“You said you let your insecurities get the best of you, I'm surprised. What are you insecure about?” He settles back down in his previous spot on the crate opposite to you, his visor settling right on your gaze.

You hesitate, you're not sure you're ready to divulge such sensitive information to a man who, before today, you couldn’t stand to be around. Something in you decides you owe it to him, an explanation for your behavior, it's part of your apology. 

“About being a good hunter.” You finally admit after far too long. And he just tilts his helmet at you, an unspoken urge for you to explain further.

“I only got into the business a few years ago.” You confess, “I’m constantly worried I’m not good enough for the job.” 

“You had a commission price double what mine was for the same quarry, and you worry you’re not good enough?” He sounds genuinely curious, not like he’s judging at all, and honestly you're thankful for it.

“That's just it. I…” You trail off again and scan the floor as you search for your words. How much do you want to divulge here exactly? You take a deep breath before starting again, “My husband, he's the one who taught me everything I know. He’s the reason I got into the guild. I had never even been off the surface of my home planet before him.” You explain, avoiding eye contact with his visor, which is still locked on you intently as you speak, “And he-- now he was a good hunter. He already had a reputation, I was just sort of...in the shadow of it. I get the good commissions because of his reputation, because of his skill.” You sigh, and finally work up the courage to look back at his visor, “I guess I’m just worried I’m just simply riding his success instead of living up to it.” 

You feel so awkward, talking about this. It feels strange, unnatural. Especially with not being able to see the face of the Mandalorian in front of you. You can’t gauge his reactions at all, and it only works to make you more nervous as you spill your feelings out to him.

“With how you fought today I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

It’s such a small thing, his response. Just one sentence, one short simple sentence. But somehow, it struck you. It catches you off guard how much that one, simple sentence actually means to you. How could he have possibly known the perfect thing to say to you, when you didn’t even know it yourself? It was somehow perfectly reassuring without being belittling. There's so much to unpack, not only is he saying he thinks you fought well today, but that you fought well enough you were deserving of your status within the guild, even without your husband's presence. 

And maybe--maybe it’s not actually that deep. Maybe you’re simply putting your own meaning into his words where there isn’t any meaning at all, but stars, regardless if that's the case or not, that sentence means everything to you right now. 

You suddenly realize you’ve been staring at him dumbly in silence this whole time. You quickly try to compose yourself, clearing your throat and averting your gaze. 

“Thank you.” You finally muster out, trying to play it cool. He just nods. 

“Oh, before I forget.” He gets up to grab his go-bag, the one he was carrying the child in earlier, “Here, this is for you.” He rummages in the bag for a moment and pulls out some kind of wrapped paper bundle, handing it to you. 

You take it from him hesitantly and utterly confused. You carefully begin to unwrap the paper, and gasp at the sight you reveal. 

It’s food, real--honest to maker food. 

Some kind of fried pastries, it definitely wasn’t fresh anymore, but stars, did it look delicious regardless. 

“The kid liked those best” He says casually, like he didn’t just give you the most perfect gift you could have ever asked for.

But that's just it, you didn’t ask for this. How did he know how badly you had been craving this all kriffing day? This is the one thing you’ve been wanting more than anything else since you landed on Utrost, and he just handed it to you, wrapped up, as a gift. Because the kid liked it best? 

Maybe he really had no idea, just bought it on a whim and it just happened to be the perfect gift. Just like he just happened to know the perfect thing to say to you about feeling insecure. You feel like you’re about to lose your mind. Who the hell was this guy? 

“Thank you.” Is all you can manage once again. You feel like a fool struggling this much over some street food. 

He simply nods at you before he’s taking his leave to the cockpit, leaving you alone once again in the hull of the ship to indulge in your food in peace. 

The second you take a bite, pure bliss radiates to every inch of your body. You nearly groan at how absolutely fantastic it tastes, and it's no surprise to you that this was the kids favorite. Maker, you can only imagine how much better it would have tasted fresh. Maybe it’s because this was the first bite of something other than a ration pack you’ve had in weeks, but you swear, this was the best thing you had ever tasted in the galaxy. 

Maybe partnering up with this Mandalorian wasn’t such a bad idea after all.  **** Previous - MASTER - Next

[pars-ley]

VOID

Pairing: Jackson x female reader ft Yugyeom x female reader

Summary: Jackson ending it with you was supposed to be for the best, but instead it spirals you into a pit of unhappiness and bad luck. What happens when meeting someone new can't compare to what you've already had?

Genre: Angst / break up au / established relationship au / marriage au / fluff

Rating: 16+ (SFW)

Warnings: Heavy Angst / swearing / some depression and depressive thoughts

Word count: 6.1k

A/N: This is for the flight log project with @got7writerscollective​ the prompt was ‘The Journey’. This is also unedited because as last minute Ley strikes again I didn’t have time. Thank you to everyone from the net who read this and wrote their reactions to this in the channel, you guys made my heart super happy.

Meeting Jackson wasn't planned but it happened.

A shy glance from the table across from you and you knew he was interested. All it took was one smile and he was at your table asking to join you.

Your conversation, free and absorbed and never ending.

The late night dates for dinner or to the movies, with walks in the park watching the sunset fade and the inky sky take over as you stroll in the moonlight hand in hand.

The early morning coffee stops that made you smile as soon as your eyes opened and you wiped the sleep from them. Just knowing you would see his handsome face and be on the mercy of his playful banter.

Every moment you were together felt like home.

Falling for him wasn't your intention but it happened.

The silly things he would do to try and cheer you up when you were sad, even if he made himself look like a fool, he didn't care as long as you smiled.

The long, hot nights of steamy love making that always took your breath away, as he explored your body until he knew it better than you. Prying his name from your lips more than once during those pleasure filled nights. Never tiresome or boring.

The quick lunch dates when he made it to the top of his career, bringing him lunch when you knew he had no time to eat but he still made time for you, no matter how busy he was.

Something had clicked fairly early on and you knew he was the one you wanted to spend your life with.

You fell hard and fast, your feelings never fading in four years, your love and lust for him still in abundance and only growing day by day.

Now suddenly, everything you've built together so solidly, so secure, has come crumbling down in front of you from six words...

"I think we should end this."

They echo like a distant voice concaved in a tunnel of stone desperate to escape, like you are. You struggle to find the end, to see the light, to feel the relief of being out of that darkness.

You feel like your drowning, gasping for air, fighting your way to the surface. But which was it? How can you get there when his words are the ocean, smothering you with its liquid jaws.

"Why?" You squeak out, fighting the tears that desperately fight their way out.

His eyebrows knit together as he watches your face. "Because I cannot give you what you want."

You shake your head, lower lip trembling fiercely. "I can wait, it's ok, I'll wait." You hear the desperation in your voice and the sound makes you sick.

"Baby, I don't know when I'll be ready, I'm finally where I want to be in my career and I've got to work hard, long hours to stay here. There's no place for children. It's not fair to ask you to wait."

"Y-your not asking. I'm t-telling you, I'll wait." You whimper, tears spilling from your eyes.

He sighs and wipes your tears away, his own eyes glassy and bloodshot. "And what if I'm never ready? You have always told me how important being a mother is to you. I will not be the one to take that away from you. I can't. I need to let you go. To let you find someone who can give you the things I can't."

Your tears fall freely now, feeling hot on your cheeks but the trails quickly turning cold in the air. Your body shivers uncontrollably, blood feeling like ice in your veins.

"But I-I don't want anyone else." You argue, the sound is petty, hardly audible.

You're losing, you know it. He's slipping through your fingers no matter how much you try to grasp at him.

"I don't either, but I think this will be better for you in the long run. I don't want to lead you on a road of disappointment because of my selfishness." He plants a long, lingering kiss on your forehead. "I'm sorry. I love you."

Before walking away and out of the door.

You crumple, your cheek finding semblance against the cold, hard floor. That's it. He's gone. You're alone.

6 months later…

The letters on the newspaper practically fly out and slap you in the face. The gaping hole he left in your chest when he took your heart with him begins pulsing with fresh agony.

Your emotions rush at you all at once, coming up and escaping from your mouth and into the kitchen sink.

The emptiness of your stomach feeling heavy as a rock, weighing you down, urging you to greet the floor. Your legs wobble under your weight as silent tears fall, leaving clear splashes on the mahogany wood under your feet.

Why is this happening? How?

So many questions, so many thoughts swirl in your mind, deafening you.

You get up from your chair and shuffle weakly back to bed, unable to face anything today.

Your phone rings wildly but you ignore it, the sound growing more distant the more your thoughts and woes consume you. Your friends have probably seen the news, they'll be worrying. Let them.

Climbing under the duvet and hoping to forget the world as your tears fall, staining your pillow, you see the print inked on the back of your eyelids. Everytime you close your eyes, it's there mocking and tormenting you.

"Millionaire CEO Jackson Wang expecting first child with Swedish actress and model, Scarlett Borgsson."

The blanket of sadness you pull over yourself, reminding you how much you still love him. Meaning he's never truly gone and you will never be truly free.

He's moved on. You should too.

But right now all you can envision is his hands on her swollen belly.

A child with his smile and her eyes.

Your chest aches agonizingly beyond belief for one that’s so empty and useless.

For three weeks you stay locked away, ignoring the world, hardly sleeping and then sleeping too much. Hardly eating but then binging late at night, when you eat in an attempt to ignore the screaming inside your head and the pain piercing your ribcage.

You remember real life. Your job, money, bills, friends. And you pull yourself out of the dark void. The thick shadow that clings to you, constantly pulling you back, giving you the easy and very tempting option. But you fight it.

You shower and wash your hair. You attempt to eat normally but food doesn’t interest you, everything has lost its flavour, everything is bland, tasteless and black and white without him.

You sleep during the day and lie awake at night, attempting work on your sculptures, everything you create shows heartbreak, devastation and sadness. But it'll have to do.

A deadline for an exhibition is rapidly approaching and you need to get back to some semblance of normality. To think about something other than him. To be productive and to work.

3 months later…

You stroll around the room, watching as people critique and fathom your artwork, listening to the theories and stories they invent. This is the best part.

No one knows you created these pieces. You can go undiscovered and walk among people, no fake niceties or pleasantries, just honesty.

You feel happiness creeping into you, filling your empty places with a new fulfilment, one you haven't felt in so long.

It's the moment you hear a familiar voice that every part of you freezes.

Any emotion other than dread or heartbreak leaves your body instantly, running away leaving you empty again. Your blood turns to ice in your veins. GET OUT OF HERE! You scream to yourself, willing your feet to move but suddenly, they feel chained to the spot, your body betraying you.

You manage to turn towards your escape, his face entering your view and masking everything else.

Just as handsome, just as perfect as he was when he was yours. Dark hair swept back not a strand out of place, a flawless fitted suit that shows off every muscle and curve of his chiseled body.

You take a step to the doors with the bright red ‘EXIT’ above them but as soon as you move it's almost as if he senses it. His head snapping in your direction following your movement. His eyes lighting up for a moment the way they used to, a small glimmer of hope flares inside you, maybe he still loves you, maybe he realises this has all been a mistake.

Until, a swollen belly makes its way into your eyeline and it all comes crashing down like a thousand shards of glass, as a reminder where you belong. Wounded and bleeding with unreciprocated love.

You finally tear your eyes away from his to look at her. All slim legs and breasts, nipples braless and pointing aggressively at Jackson.

Her small, pregnant stomach is perfect; the envy of every expectant mother. A perfect set of teeth behind full lips smile at all of those around her.

Long blonde hair shimmering, strands reflecting the light as if purposefully trying to blind you.

You’re not good enough to even be looking at her, they tell you.

Something else glinting catches your attention and your eyes immediately travel to her left hand. On her boney ring finger sat a rock the size of a baby's fist, glaring at you, teasing you. Of course. The cherry on top of a fantastic year.

Jackson follows your gaze and when you meet his eyes again he stares at you with wide eyes and a sorrow brow. A hand outreached towards you.

A bitter taste in your mouth at his pity sends your feet pulling you away and out of the room. You’re out of those doors before you know it, cold air whipping at your face but you barely feel it. You’re numb, unable to form the energy to feel and yet feeling everything so deeply, all at once. You want to scream into the night sky. Wondering what it is you’ve done in a past life that was so awful to deserve this.

8 months later…

Meeting yugyeom wasn't planned but it happened.

An aspiring artist featured alongside you in one of your exhibitions. You got along instantly.

The first time in a long time holding a conversation or getting to know someone didn't feel like hard work.

You both ran in the same creators circle, you had a lot in common so naturally you become fast friends.

You weren't sure when it changed for you, when it became something slightly more, but you did know he was the sweetest, purest soul you'd met and you couldn't let him slip through your fingers.

Jackson still ran through your mind constantly of course, using you as his own personal treadmill. His face still haunting your dreams, memories still sneaking up on you when you least expect it.

You'd caught headlines about his baby or wedding but most of the time you avoided everything about him completely. Not wishing to know anything about his life, for fear the pain would return and your chest would open up and become the gaping,  black hole it used to be.

Yugyeom deserves your full attention and your whole heart, what was salvaged of it at least.

After he moves in with you it's all late nights cuddling on the sofa, early morning runs through the local park, dinner parties with friends and holidays to new destinations having adventures.

Yugyeom being with you means having your best friend around. He makes you feel safe and comforted, the wall of heat when you get home after a long day out in the cold. The blanket around you when watching your favourite movie. The bubbles that surround you in the bathtub when having a relaxing soak. He is your solace.

"Marry me." He whispers in your ear with his arms wrapped around your stomach.

You freeze, stirring the vegetables in the pan no longer matters once you hear those words.

A million thoughts race through your mind, one jumps out.

I thought it would be Jackson saying those words to me.

You catch it and toss it out the open window allowing it to be carried in the breeze. Jackson is married and has a child, he is gone.

Yugyeom stands behind you, cradling you and offers you his heart on a silver platter with all the trinkets.

No matter what expectation you had for your life before, you're on a new path now. A path that deserves a chance.

You turn in his arms, wrapping yours around his neck and bringing your lips to his, dancing in a mellow kiss.

"Is that a yes?" His mouth smiles against you, hands either side of your face, tucking hair behind your ears.

"Yes."

He beams at you, pulling a ring box out of his pocket and presenting it to you.

A large, gaudy diamond wrapped in a thin, gold band. None of your jewellery is gold, in fact, you detest it but this man has given you his heart, the least you can do is wear the ring he's bought.

He slides it on your finger. Looking down at your hand, you don't recognise it, it looks alien like it belongs to someone else. But you smile and kiss him until you're a tangled mess on the kitchen floor, dinner long burnt and forgotten.

9 months later…

You stand central to everyone, rows of packed seating behind you, eyes focused just on the two of you as you both recite your vows.

Looking around at the decorations you never would have picked, it's far too showy and glitzy for your taste but Yugyeom's mother had insisted, including what type of dress you should wear.

Not wanting to start a new life with atmosphere and anger, you opt with keeping your mouth shut and hoping for a quiet life.

She practically planned it all, even told you who your bridesmaids would be.

You sat there watching everyone around you move at a different speed, as if you were stuck in syrup and unable to catch up.

All you could do is watch, watch as your wedding and life was planned for you.

An alarm bell sounded in your head, screaming at you 'it's not right' but Yugyeom would come into view and give you a smile that would cloud all your fears and ease your worry.

Now the second alarm bell sounds as you stand here, on your wedding day, in a dress you hate, with Jackson's sweet smiling face staring back at you instead.

Somehow having replaced Yugyeom.

You look around frantically but no one else seems bothered by the silent exchange. Panic seizes your heart. This should not be what you're thinking of on this day. You blink furiously, shoving him out of your mind, willing him to disappear.

Yugyeom's face returns and you breathe a sigh of relief.

***

The ceremony is over. Husband and wife.

You greet everyone with their grins and cheers, finding yourself smiling with too much teeth, too much enthusiasm you don't feel inside.

Shouldn't you feel happier than this? You finally have a husband. You're finally somebody's wife. Why don't you have that instant feeling of completion? You should be jumping for joy right now. Instead you feel...normal, like you do on any other day. Maybe it just hasn't set in yet, maybe you just need a few days. So you wait. And wait. And wait.

That feeling doesn't come, not after your honeymoon in which you became restless, quickly realizing there is nothing else to do apart from lay on a beach and have sex.

Your busy mind grows louder, screaming at you, but you ignore it and swallow it down into the pit where it belongs.

Upon returning from your week in the sun, you settle quickly into a mundane routine together. Easy, calm and comforting. Some might say boring, some might even say mind numbingly dull.

But you continue on day to day…

"I want one." He says nodding towards the screen.

"What? A new tv?"

He laughs and points. "No, a baby."

You look up at the advert for nappies, a baby grinning with two little teeth protruding from his gum, big cheeks and a bald head.

Your heart stops, stutters then slams into your ribcage repeatedly. A baby. That's all you've wanted, a little version of yourself. A little bundle of joy to love unconditionally.

But is now the right time?

"Are you sure you don't want to wait a little while?"

"Wait for what? We're married, why waste time?" He clings to your hands enveloped in his.

He makes a good point. What are you waiting for?

You've already wasted enough time being with Jackson, hoping one day he'd be having this exact conversation with you.

Then spending your days after him wallowing in heartbreak and self pity.

You have the opportunity to live out your dreams with someone giving you the chance to, literally holding his hand out ready for you to take and walk the path with.

"Let's do it." You nod.

1 year later…

Your period is a week late.

You have been regular as clockwork since the day you started trying for a baby. Every month, the disappointment is undeniable when you see the crimson shade in your underwear. And every month you have to will yourself not to give up, to keep trying. Another month of ovulating tests, scheduled sex on precise days and times and legs in the air after, an attempt to help mother nature as much as you can.

Needless to say the excitement radiates off you in waves.

You rush home from work, pregnancy test in your bag, hardly able to contain yourself.

Yugyeom at the door, as excited as you, waiting and ready.

"Are you going to do it now?" He asks following your every footstep to the bathroom.

"Yes."

You shut the door and open the package, reading the instructions carefully. You'd drunk about a litre of water on the way home, your legs clenched together to stop you wetting yourself.

You sit down on the toilet and take a deep breath.

Once it's done you open the door for Yugyeom. Both of you sitting on the tiled floor staring up at the bright white stick resting on the sink. Gazing up at it like it holds all your answers, like suddenly life would make sense seeing those two red lines.

You've never realised how long two minutes is, you wring your hands nervously in your lap until he cups them in his, squeezing you reassuringly.

Your alarm goes off on your phone signalling the end of waiting and your heart pounds frantically in your chest.

He leans over and grabs the test.

"You ready?" He asks.

You take a breath and nod. Ready to see those two red lines. Ready to call your doctors and set up your appointments and scans. Ready to make a list of baby names and shop for all the necessities.

One line. Yugyeom shows you the test, with its mocking one line and your smile drops, so does your stomach. How? How could this be negative?

"Wait a minute, it says on here 'for the most accurate result use the first urine sample of the day as there will be a higher concentration of hCG.'" He looks over at you, a hesitant, optimistic smile plays across his mouth.

Yes. That's true. You cling onto that with every fibre of your being and agree to do the other test first thing in the morning.

***

As soon as your eyes open your mind is there, on that test in the bathroom. You climb enthusiastically out of bed, all traces of drowsiness vanish, as you tiptoe quietly to the bathroom.

If you do the test, then while you wait you can wake Yugyeom and you can both look at it together.

You quietly close the door and prepare the test, your fingers fumbling with excitement as you tear open the packet.

As you pull your underwear down, stick poised and ready, red catches your eye in your otherwise white bathroom. You look down, only to be greeted with your monthly agony, here to haunt you once more.

The test falls to the floor. It's useless now anyway. You're not pregnant, never was and likely never will be.

You let your head fall into your hands and let your misery wash over you. Tears stream down your face as dismay feels like it infects your soul with a never ending sadness.

A heavy cloud smothers you in a blanket of sorrow, choking the air from your lungs...you have no idea how long you stay in that bathroom before Yugyeom finds you. But you feel no better when he does and cradles you in his arms.

5 months later...

"When are you going to admit to yourself that it's not me you want?" His voice sounds into the silence and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.

The weekly fights he starts are almost timed like clockwork.

"What are you talking about?" You reply, continuing to type your ideas for your new art show.

"I've seen the way you look at Mark when you're working on your art pieces." He spits, slamming his drink down on the table.

This catches your attention. You close your laptop and swing your feet off the couch, heading over to the cupboard to pour yourself a Gin.

If you were going down this path, you needed a drink.

"Mark at the gallery?"

"Yes 'Mark at the gallery.'" He mocks you and you fight the urge to laugh.

"Dear, Mark is gay. I can assure you I look at him the same way I do all my other colleagues." You take a sip of your drink, eyes fixed on him.

He frowns for a moment then waves a hand in the air dismissing your statement. "I don't care about Mark."

"Then what do you care about Yugyeom, aside from starting fights with me?"

He stands abruptly from his seat, the wooden chair legs screeching across your wooden flooring making you wince.

"Do you ever ask yourself why I start these fights?" He shouts, a vein bulging in his neck.

"You start them because you like to get drunk on Friday's, and when you get drunk, you get mean." You say matter-of-factly, recalling all of the horrible things he's said to you lately, things you never thought could have come from his sweet mouth, things you won't forget.

His eyes pop in surprise as he's taken aback by your answer. "N-no," he sighs, returning to his chair, suddenly looking drunker than he seems. "I start fights because it feels like the only time I have your attention lately."

Guilt pangs inside you, pulling at your chest. You take a seat next to him and place your hand gently on top of his, the action feeling alien nowadays.

"I've had a hard time since we stopped trying for a baby." You admit.

"I never wanted to stop in the first place!" He yells, snatching his hand from yours. "That was your choice and you made it alone!"

"Because I can't keep putting myself through it! Can't you understand that?" You snap back, finally being open about your feelings, knowing it will only fall on deaf ears.

"I want children!"

"And you think I don't? I can't handle this pressure you put on me! You know my ovulation schedule more than I do."

"Because you never want to have sex anymore!"

"Because you've taken the fun out of it, it feels like a fucking chore! I'm not here for you to enter at your leisure to deposit your seed. What happened to spontaneity, romance, foreplay for god's sake? You're like a man possessed!" Your hands grip around the glass to stop them from trembling with anger. Finally being able to release the words that have been pent up inside you for the last five months.

Without a word he stands and walks to the front door, snatching his jacket up along the way. "I understand Jackson more now."

Hearing Yugyeom say his name, you freeze.

"Maybe he just knew you couldn't give him what he wanted." He says, looking over at you with watery, hate filled eyes before leaving, slamming the door behind him.

Your glass follows in an instant, smashing against the closed door, clear liquid and glass decorating the entrance to your apartment. Maybe you'll leave it there for him to step on when he comes home even drunker later.

An angry tear escapes as you sit here feeling trapped in your own home, wanting to be anywhere but here, anywhere but have to deal with your husband anymore tonight.

The word 'husband' feels foreign in your mind and on your tongue.

Nothing has felt right for the better part of eight months. You hardly talk to each other and when you do it's mostly fights and angry words spat or slurred in the other's direction. This is no way to live.

What you had given him of your damaged, used heart has slowly come back to you. With every alarm bell you hear ringing, every hurtful word sprayed in your direction, your heart has winced its way back to you. Putting up its own defense, from every barb that's thrown your way is turned into a wire fence, wrapping it in a sharp, pointed cage of protection.

***

Yugyeom doesn't show his face until the next afternoon, coming home looking rather sheepish.

"We need to talk." He says quietly.

The four words everyone dreads to hear.

You know what's coming, you've felt it for a while, it still doesn't ease the pain in your chest as you listen to his every word.

As you both apologise for your part in the break down of your short marriage, admitting maybe it was rushed from the start and accepting the fact that maybe you're not right for each other.

Two hours later and countless tears from the two of you, you both decide to call it a day. Even though you care deeply for each other, it's time to admit defeat. You have tried and given it your best shot.

"The worst part about this…" you say, wiping at your constant stream of tears. "I feel like i'm losing my best friend."

He pulls you into a tight, warm embrace, "hey, you are not losing me, I will always be here for you. We'll still see each other plenty at work events too. You can't get rid of me that easily."

You laugh, feeling thankful that you met him and thankful that you gave him a part of yourself, you had meant every word of your vows when you said them and you too would always be here for him. He'll always have a part of your heart to take with him, not that there's much left for yourself now.

2 months later….

A cup of morning coffee and reading the Sunday paper has become a routine you rather enjoy. You relax with your feet up on the dining table, crossed ankles.

You flick through anything that doesn't interest you, when a name catches your eye, drawing you to the headline.

"Jackson Wang scandal: Millionaire files for divorce from Scarlett Borgsson."

Your eyes pop. Scandal? What scandal?

You grab your phone and type his name into your search engine. You click on the first link and skim through.

"Model Scarlett Borgsson reportedly had an affair early on in the couple's relationship. An insider reveals she is now demanding a DNA test for their two year old little boy."

Your stomach drops as you click the next link.

"Jackson Wang revealed not to be Father of Scarlett Borgsson's son."

You read through story after story saying the same thing. How had you missed this?

You pick up your phone and dial the number to his office without even thinking.

You can't imagine how he feels right now, all you want to do is reach out and let him know he has someone he can talk to.

When the receptionist's voice sounds in your ear, you now doubt if he'd want that person to be you. You lose your nerve and hang up.

Your heart aches for him. Maybe it shouldn't but it does. No matter what he's done or how he's upset you, he does not deserve this.

You feel severe hate for that woman, thinking back to the last time you saw them both in the flesh.

The way she smiled arrogantly at everyone, as if they should all bend to her will with a flick of her hair or a swish of her hips.

Your stomach churns.

For the next few nights, your thoughts are consumed of Jackson as you toss and turn restlessly in bed. Maybe you'll gather the courage to speak to him…maybe not.

7 months later…

"You look good." Yugyeom says as you smooth down your pale blue dress.

"Thank you, so do you." You smile at him, looking at his impeccably tailored suit.

"It's nice to see you."

"Yes, it's been a while." You agree.

You do the usual catch up chit-chat until it dies down, he even introduces you to his date who seems like a very sweet and pleasant lady.

The newly wed couple enter the hall and cheers erupt all around, echoes bouncing off the wall. You cannot stop the grin that stretches across your face as you watch them take the centre of the floor for their first dance.

You'd known Jasmine since you were children, you'd always been inseparable. Your mothers were best friends growing up so naturally you spent a lot of time together.

Seeing her in the intricate, elegant wedding gown smiling up at her groom, elation in her eyes makes your heart smile. The joy you feel for her is stronger than most happiness you've felt for yourself.

Watching the sheer adoration in Jinyoung's eyes warms the deepest, darkest pit of your heart. They are so right for each other it's sickening.

You wonder briefly if you ever looked at Yugyeom like that and can collectively say 'no'. You two are the perfect example of two people almost forcing yourselves to be more than friends. You wouldn't change the time with him and you definitely learnt a lot from your marriage.

Jinyoung twirls her before bringing her back in close. You know him through Jackson, they had met at uni and become fast friends. As far as you were aware they remain that way.

But you haven't seen him here, not that you were hopeful he'd come.

The evening continues on, through dinner, speeches and finally opens up to the party.

The loud music pounds through you, realising you've had a little too much to drink you decide to step outside on the balcony and get some fresh air.

The gentle breeze skates across your skin leaving a delicate trail of goosebumps across your skin.

A jacket drapes your shoulders, an all too familiar scent intoxicating your senses, as your head snaps to the side to see him.

Jackson.

All this time you've thought about him and pictured him, your memory had not done him justice. He looks flawless, his hair swept back perfectly as usual, his smooth skin and unguarded eyes welcoming you. His soft lips stretch into a hesitant smile.

"I was hoping I'd see you."

Your heart flutters wildly in your chest making you feel light headed suddenly, although you don't show it. You take a breath and compose yourself.

"I wasn't sure if you'd come." You reply.

He takes his position next to you, shoulder brushing lightly against yours. How this man can still feel like home to you after all these years is mind boggling.

"I almost didn't. But Jinyoung told me you would be here as a bridesmaid and I couldn't stay away."

Your stomach flips dramatically at his words, large butterflies caged and desperate to escape.

"I'm sorry about your marriage." You say quickly.

He shrugs. "Thank you but I'm not."

You turn, raising a questioning eyebrow to him.

"She was not the person for me, let's put it that way."

"Why did you marry her then? 10 months after telling me that's not what you wanted." You jibe. You couldn't help it, anger threatening in the pit of your stomach at your same old reaction to him.

He sighs, hanging his head and rubbing his eyes. He looks tired, you hadn't noticed the dark circles under his eyes.

"I know, I know. That wasn't my plan. I meant what I said to you that day, every word." He looks behind you. "Can we sit?"

You follow his eyes to the ornate metal table and two chairs and nod.

Taking your seat with his jacket still draped around your shoulders stare out at the sunset, pinks and oranges streaming across the sky. When you look back at Jackson he's already watching you, his eyes soft but pained.

"I'm so sorry. For everything."

He means it, that much you can tell.

"It's in the past now."

"But I don't want it to be." He reaches across for your hands, holding them so tight his knuckles start going white. "There hasn't been a day that's gone by that I haven't thought about you, that I haven't obsessed about that moment I let you go. I'd give anything to change it you know, anything, but I can't. I truly wanted you to find happiness and I thought I was doing the right thing by you, giving you a chance without me holding you back."

You laugh, the sound almost bitter. "And yet, happiness still eludes me."

His eyebrows knit together in sorrow. "When I met my ex wife, it was a casual thing, nothing more. When she told me she was pregnant my world changed overnight. I didn't know what to do. All I could think about was you. It was supposed to be you having my babies one day, not this woman. I wanted to run to you then but how would you ever want me?"

He brings your hands up to his face and rubs his cheek along your fingers.

"My mother pressured me into marrying her, told me how it would look for someone in my position, said I'd lose everything. So I proposed, the words tasted like ash in my mouth but it was done. Then when I saw you at your art show, I almost came over and ended it all right then and there. But when I saw the tears in your eyes I couldn't bear the thought I'd done that to you. I felt so ashamed and I knew it was over."

You want to comfort him, to reach out and cup his cheek but you resist, letting him finish what he's so desperate to say.

"Then I heard you got married and I was happy for you, truly, I thought maybe I had done the right thing by you after all. Then all this shit came out about the affair and everything collapsed around me. All I wanted was to talk to you, like we used to, those late night talks where we would really open up. God, I craved that."

You squeeze his hand and he straightens a little, seeming a bit less dejected.

"When Jinyoung told me you'd gotten a divorce I was shocked and felt responsible somehow. He seems like a good guy by the way, he gave me one hell of a lecture about not hurting you as soon as I walked in."

You laugh and look through the double doors to see Yugyeom watching the two of you intently as he moves side to side on the dance floor with his date.

"He is a good man. Just not the right one for me."

The hope in Jackson's eyes could not be more obvious.

"I have to ask you something." He says leaning forward on the table, the action creaking the old iron underneath the weight on his elbows. "Could we start again? I know I don't deserve your forgiveness but I would like to try and earn it."

Mulling it over in your mind, you feel yourself nodding before your thoughts are even processed. But the resulting smile that lights up his face has you knowing your decision is not a mistake.

He leans in and strokes your face. "It's always been you."

Those words reiterating how you feel are like music to your soul. You feel at ease for the first time in a long time, your broken pieces mending and your heart more hopeful than it has been in a long time.

[outr-banks]

Dark || Fic

(JJ Maybank x Reader)

In which JJ has had enough of your uncertainty on how you feel about him. Love is scary and frightening, so this leads to lies knowing it will hurt less than the truth. But, it doesn’t.

a/n: i’m so glad you guys enjoyed the last fic !! it truly makes my heart warm <3. writing this really got me in my feelings, who knew personal heartbreak can be written into words ! lol

inspired by: Slowing Dancing in the Dark by Joji (recommend listening while reading)

warning: angst, intense and sad. a slight mention of a toxic relationship, no happy ending :(

-

It’s dark, and not because it’s nearly midnight, but the eyes from the boy across the fire pit watched you and it sends you into a black hole. The atmosphere alone terrifies you.

For JJ to look at you this way is nothing new. But tonight, it makes you truly uncomfortable. You know you’re causing him pain, it’s visible. For awhile now, you and John B have been hooking up. It’s nothing serious, and the both of you made that very clear. You always ask yourself, how can someone do that when you’re clearly in love with someone else? But you’ve come to the terms it’s something you’ll never know. You’re aware that it isn’t fair to him, leaving JJ in the dark like that, but you couldn’t help it.

John B stands up from next to you and says goodnight, he places a warm hand on your shoulder and it causes you to shiver. Just knowing JJ saw it, makes your stomach turn. Your rendezvous with John B have been very lowkey, but the rest of the group knew something was going on.

The North Carolina winds brush swiftly through the air, but luckily the heat from the fire brings comfort. It’s silent, freakishly silent. Your heartbeat becomes louder than the outside noise, until JJ speaks up.

“You should be with him, I can’t compete.” The blonde boy clears his throat and then scoffs.

“JJ, please don’t. Let’s enjoy this fire.” You couldn’t bare to have this conversation with him. The fear within, overpowers the love you have for the troubled kid.

“I can’t! Don’t you understand? Just tell me how you feel about me. I just want the truth!” He yells, a trace of pain laces his voice.

You’re startled, he’s never acted this way before. You had small conversations about it, but he always remained quiet.

“I don’t want a friend, I don’t want to be your friend.” He adds, his words felt like bullets, and you can’t help but tear up. Although he’s still, his breaths are heavy as if he just finished running a marathon.

“JJ, don’t say that. You don’t mean that, right?” A small cry sits at the back of your throat.

“You look at me like I was someone else, as if i’m John B.” His hands make way to his hair and he lightly pulls on the strands. His fustration becomes evident and I knew he’s had it. He’s had it with your inconsistency and the uncertainty of your feelings towards him. You don’t blame him. He does nothing but nod his head.

“Why do you shut me out? Why can’t you make up your mind!” His voice raises once again and a dam breaks loose within your eyes. The sob that’s been stuck in your throat for months is set free.

“I don’t love you like that!” You scream desperately. It hurts even more to say such thing, knowing it’s a lie.

“That’s bullshit, and you know it!” JJ points his finger aggressively towards you and then flips the log he was once sitting on. You’re scared. Not because of him but the idea that you lost him for good. He runs into the dark of night and his shadow blends with the shapes of trees.

You follow him, anxious of where he might go. The sounds of your footsteps are swallowed by the forrest, and you scream for him after you spot him.

JJ turns around to face you, “don’t follow me! Or I swear to God I will kiss you right now. You’ve already made up your mind. Now leave me alone,” he shouts.

Your heart drops, “JJ I’m done fighting. I know now.” You can’t deny it anymore. You love him, and it’s scary but it’s now or never. Although, the idea of now seems scary to you, losing him frightens you even more.

“I-I lo-” You can’t find the words, and it fustrates you.

“Say it!” He charges at you but his body stiffens when he notices you’re in pain. His eyes water, he hates to see you this way. JJ remembers when you once told him the last time you said those words, it was nothing but a filler to escape the reality of a toxic relationship you were once in.

“I’m so sorry,” JJ’s words have soften and he carefully watches you.

“JJ, I can’t give you the answer you want.”

“So then let me say to you then, I love you. I’ve loved you since the day I met you. Everytime I see you with him, it kills me.” He anxiously waits for a response and his movements become frantic.

“I will make up all the times you can’t say I love you. I’ll wait for you. I will do it. I love you, I love so much.” His voice cracks, and his desperation takes over him. His hands gently lay on your cheeks. The pad of his thumb wipes away a tear that seeps out your eye.

“I’m sorry JJ.” You carefully grab unto his hands with your own and remove yourself from his touch. You can’t bare to look at him. A slight whimper leaves his lips and it shatters your heart to pieces.

Turning away from him causes you a pain you’ve never experienced before. A deep sadness and regret showers you. It’s unclear whether or not telling him the truth or a lie would hurt less. Nonetheless, you walk away leaving him in the dark.