#it's nice to have this before the angst ramps up in part 2

[merlinemryspendragon]

Do you think anyone saw us? I was not paying much attention to anything. Bridgerton S3E04 - “Old Friends”

[httpsryu]

b.f.s (best friend's sister) pt. 2

pairing: mo jihye x fem!reader

summary: it was always a thing, noticing your best friend's older sister. ever since you were a young girl.

category: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers au

genre: fluff, slight angst (?)

warnings: JEALOUSY, y/n is very much head over heels for jihye

a/n: thanks for the love on part 1 <3

clearing your throat and simultaneously tapping your feet, you dart your eyes between your best friend and her sister. both girls look down at their feet, avoiding your gazes at them.

"i mean if it wasn't a date, i don't get why you're so upset." maya blurts out her intrusive thoughts, earning a nudge in her stomach by her sister.

you deeply sigh, having jihye's concern pan towards you. why do you seem to care so much about that girl?

"it isn't about that." you respond with a worried expression. "you already know how introverted haerin is, you can't just randomly yell that out -- especially in a public setting."

your best friend rolls her eyes, your words going through one ear and coming out the other. "i was just genuinely excited for you."

"me?"

maya nods. "haerin is a cute and nice girl and you were complaining about how you hated being single, let alone get grossed out when boys try to court you. i just figured you'd want to try something new with a nice and cute person like her."

"i see. but maya you'd have to understand that me dating is my own personal matters, besides even though i always complain on how single i am, i still don't want to be in the dating scene yet." you explain, thankfully without blurting out that you have feelings for your best friend's sister.

a crush is a crush.

"y/n is young to date anyways." jihye backs you up, feeling a sour taste at the idea of you and haerin possibly becoming a thing.

maya groans loudly, putting her head back to be dramatic. "we're only a year younger than you!"

"still too young." jihye crosses her arms, wanting to not talk about nor think about you dating. (after all, she's just being a protective older sister.)

the younger mo rolls her eyes at how geeky and overprotective her sister is being, getting up from the ramp that she was sitting on to reach you. "y/n, let's go leave this oldie behind. she's getting on my nerves."

"HEY!"

shaking at your head at how immature the two siblings are being, you can't help but to stare over at jihye more. oh, how pretty she is in the sunlight with her natural curly hair falling perfectly right at her shoulders.

the way jihye could never stay mad at anyone ever, that's how much of a sweet and kind person mo jihye is.

"AHHH! save me!" maya runs behind you, using you as shield from her jihye unnie.

jihye huffs in frustration at maya using you for protection before picking up your backpack from the ground. "it's getting late, let's start heading back home."

slinging your backpack around her shoulders, she starts walking in front.

pretty

"hehe." your best friend giggles in victory, kissing your cheek and making sure to leave a big 'smooch' sound which grabs jihye to stop walking and bringing her attention to you two.

"we're coming! we're coming!" maya could not help but to let out another eye roll at the way her sister is acting today.

you wait for a bit, standing behind to see the other two walking. however, your sense of vision floods and linger over jihye. oh, how she looks pretty while YOUR backpack is around her back. she even walks pretty, how is one's beauty made so perfect?

mr and mrs. mo made jihye with love.

"what are you doing?" maya turns around, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand to get a good look at you. "let's go!"

jihye turns around as well, her eyes basically smiling at you making you freeze and look off to the side of her face.

trying to play it cool, you let out a small laugh before running up to the both of them. to not over fluster yourself, you lean a bit more on maya's side.

this seems normal.

but, why does jihye want you closer to her? she can't help but to ask herself on why you seem to always draw a line between you and her? are you that uncomfortable around her? could it be because she's a year older than both you and maya?

with her hand clutching on one of the straps of your backpack, jihye distantly stares off into the streets, keeping quiet as she ponders on how to get closer to you.

it's only normal, right? you three basically grew up together, it's not weird at the fact she wants to become closer to you, right?

"isn't it strange that kyujin keeps leaving notes into someone's locker?" maya asks, wondering why one of their friends is trying to keep it a secret.

you can only hum in question, before trying to defend your friend. "i think it's honestly kind of cute."

"tch, so cheesy."

notes in a locker?

jihye patiently waits in front of your classroom, her hands gripping to the straps of her backpack while she looks down at her feet to calm her nerves down. she softly inhales and exhales, finding a steady breathing before your class ends.

"y/n." kyujin whispers to you across the classroom.

you struggle to drought down the lecture materials as you look up at your friend calling your name. "huh?"

you notice your friend making a weird jerking movement with her head, leaving you extremely confused and overstimulated due to the materials covered in class. "what?"

"look at the door." kyujin whispers back.

at your friend's words, you lazily dart your eyes to the door.

OH MY GOD??

at the sight of her, you immediately sit up in your seat, pretending to look studious in case she happens to peer inside the classroom. why could jihye possibly be here? and in front of your classroom?

and why does she look amazing in that grey sweats gym uniform? and her hair is so curly today, you can feel a sense of devotion just for her only. if only...she would see you the same way you see her.

jihye probably only saw you as a sister

all of a sudden, the urge for class to end disappears and you just want to stay seated at your desk FOREVER.

getting a quick glimpse of the clock, you internally start panicking as you curse out the clock for moving its hands too fast all of a sudden.

the second your teacher started to erase her work off of the whiteboard, the panic rises internally even more. class is ending soon and all of sudden, you want to stay here forever instead of facing your ongoing long term crush like an idiot.

everyone else in the class starts to put their workbooks away, having you start panicking even more and ultimately, you too put away your workbooks into your backpack with an anxious heartbeat racing.

you watch as everyone else disperse out the classroom, halting on purpose to still calm yourself down and figure out why jihye is out waiting here in front of your classroom.

"bye weirdo." kyujin sends you a flying kiss to which you shudder and grimace before she walks out the classroom.

jihye looks over, peering inside the classroom once the students exited out. she smiles softly at the way you're diligently taking the time to put away your workbooks and school supplies. jihye can't help but to admire a little bit of your features.

you look up from zipping up your backpack close, making direct eye contact with the older.

jihye smiles over at you, her pink rosy lips upturn with her signature lip gloss. you swore you could've felt your heartbeat stopped beating for a second at the smile. before you could even get straight back to what you were doing, jihye strides her way towards you.

OH MY GOD-calm down.

"hi unnie." you manage to say, calming down a bit while continuing to zip your backpack up.

the older lets out a soft hum. "hi y/n."

"w-what are you doing here?" you get out of your seat, asking her.

jihye pushes down the thought that you probably don't want to see her and manage a small smile at your question, grabbing your backpack and holding it. "maya is doing something for a project with her partner so i figured i would accompany you on your walk back home, if that's alright?"

alone? just the two of you? walking?

"y-yeah, that's alright." you softly smile at the older.

jihye gasps happily, nodding as she walks besides you out of the classroom, holding your backpack in her hand.

the silence is comforting yet it's killing you in the inside. only sounds of the both of you walking against the concrete ground could be heard. and strangely; you like it yet dislike it.

you only like it because walking with your crush is a blessing but you dislike it because what do you even do in this situation?

jihye admires your features a little longer, blatantly staring at you without knowing how it'd make you feel. frankly, jihye always found you perfect and adorable. (like a younger sister, right?) somehow; you look even more perfect in this sunlight.

'why is she staring at me so long like that?' you think to yourself, feeling nervous even more as the both of you continue to walk along a small trail to your neighborhood.

"so, you normally help out at the library?" jihye asks with a soft tender voice, smiling down prettily at you.

you let out a curt nod, diverting your eyes down at your feet to stop your cheeks from getting painted by a pink-hue. "haerin and i both help out at the library."

"ahh~ i see." jihye nods to herself, keeping that information stored into her brain. "so...this haerin. is she nice?"

jihye hopes she didn't sound too intruding for asking that question. why does she want to know so badly if haerin is nice to you or not?

you can only let out a shy nod in response.

jihye ignores the weird itchy feeling in the back of her throat, inhaling in deeply before speaking again. "that's...that's good."

the air falls silent again.

"y/n?"

you look up at her sweet voice calling your name, ignoring the way the soft vibrations of her voice affects your inner turmoil of emotions. "hmm, unnie?"

"umm...do you not like me?" jihye's voice is very gentle and quiet...with a sense of vulnerability seeping through.

god; if only she knows how much you like her. how much every glance she gives you make you feel overwhelmed and enthralled, giving you butterflies each time. or how much her voice calling your name out makes your heart pound in your chest.

"no...i do. why?" you compose yourself to be able to say those words.

jihye gazes down at you with a small smile, tilting her head. "you barely talk to me and when you do, only a few words are exchanged. you tend to be wary of your distance with me when i'm near you."

you sigh deeply silently, darting your eyes back to the ground, the cracks in the pavement looking more interesting than the face of the girl you've always had a crush on since you were seven.

jihye quietly observe you, waiting for your response.

"it's not that unnie..."

you sigh again, not knowing what to say to ease the older girl's mind.

"you just make me nervous..."

jihye's brows furrows at your words.

nervous?

"is it because i'm older than you?" the question comes out hesitantly from the older's lips, lingering in the air for a few seconds while the two continues walking.

you shake your head immediately. "n-no."

"is it because i'm maya's sister?"

"no."

jihye's lips changes into a small frown, her eyes full of curiosity. "then why do i make you nervous?"

before you could open your mouth to form a response to the older's question, a small bark and a scratch on your legs grab your attention. you glance down, seeing your family's beloved toy poodle. which means you've arrived home...

"ah~ looks like we've made it safely." the older smiles softly, putting distance between you two to give you space. "i'll let maya know i've taken you home safely."

you can only nod in response. "thanks unnie..."

"i'll see you around." jihye says, forcing a smile as she reluctantly turns around to start heading home.

thursday; at 5:30 pm is written down as the worse day in your entire life.

here you are, lying in maya's arms while she comforts you. her hand brushes through your hair while tears are pouring out from your eyes. it's dumb, really. to cry over someone who's probably only seen you as their little sister's best friend.

and yet; here you are...

all because you saw jihye hugging some cool girl who goes by the name of kim minji.

why does the world seems to punish JUST you?

"shh...it's alright..." maya soothes you, her tone in a hushed whisper.

she feels your tears subsiding as you sniffle softly.

"there, there...you're alright."

once you've managed to calm down and relax, maya slightly pulled back to take a look at you. her thumbs gently wiped around your tears.

"now, who made my darling cry?" maya asks in a small whisper.

how do you tell your best friend of ten years that you've had a crush on her older sister since the day you became friends?

you shake your head, worried of what maya would think if you told her.

before maya could open her mouth to respond back, the door of her room gets swing opened and there she is, jihye standing in the doorway with a concerned look.

"i...overheard on the way back to my room." jihye softly says, her eyes focus onto you. "is everything alright here?"

no. no. no.

it's as if her gentle and concerned voice makes it even worse and before you can stop yourself; a dam of tears starts to break.

oh boy, this will be a long night.

hey...hehe...sorry for the VERY late second part :( my laptop got stolen and i hate typing on my phone or ipad so i had to buy a new one...

prev

october 30, 2024; publishing date

taglist: OPEN

[zaraomarrogers]

Always and Forever - 2

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Sexual content, minors do not interact

word count: 2301

~*~

PART 2

Y/n put Malcolm in the baby seat, fastening the belt she kissed on his cheek. She’d been crazy busy throughout the month managing and planning the Fall collection showcase. It was Wanda’s first time launching her collection in a mainstream fashion industry.

Wanda Maximoff- cheerful, quick witted, intelligent and extremely protective of Y/n and Malcolm, was the step- sister who was also a best friend to Y/n.  Wanda was just like her mother, warm and welcoming, full of love and compassion. She found a sibling and a friend in Y/n. Wanda was allowed with Y/n in labor room and she was the first one taking Malcolm in her arms before doctors took him away for mother and baby skin to skin contact.

“You good, baby?” Y/n asked, looking at Malcolm in the rear view.

“Yes Mama. When reach Wan Wan?” Malcolm asked mouth full of flavored yogurt.

“In few minutes, Mal. You will have to spend some time with Lily, while Mama’s gonna finish her work. Okay baby?”

“How wong work Mama?”

“It’s going to take time Mal, but mama will come see you okay? Be nice to Lily please.”

“Okay mama, wuv you.”

“I love you too Mal, so so much.”

 The house of blues Boston was illuminated with lights, sound of music blaring from the speakers. Y/n parked the car in the parking spot. She was little late already, taking out Malcolm she hold his right hand in her left while carrying his bag and her purse in right hand she walked into the place. She spotted Lily not so far from the changing rooms, she handed Malcolm to her along with his bag. A kiss and few reminders later, she was walking into the main room where all the models were getting ready. She glanced over checking everything and headed towards the bar section of this huge place. She knew bar was the only place she’d find Wanda and Pepper. Both of them had this nervous habit to have few beers before the show.

 “My god! Get a grip you two.” Y/n exclaimed taking a seat beside Wanda. “I’m the one walking down the ramp.” She signaled the bar tender for a drink.

“I am so excited. You know I’ve designed the dress especially for you. You’re gonna be the sexiest mama tonight.” Wanda squealed from happiness.

“Aha, I’ve seen that dress and it’s all kind of sexy, Y/n.” Pepper said gulping down the beer.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she took a sip from her whiskey. Only reason she agreed to walk the ramp was Wanda. She just couldn’t say no to her.

“I’m sure that guy from the HR will lose his balls.” Wanda laughed out loud. “You are going to be sensational Y/n/n.”

“C’mon guys! We need to stay focused. Pepper, is your husband coming?” Y/n asked changing the subject.

“You mean my ex- husband?”  

“No, I mean your husband because you’re still not divorced yet.”

“Ugghhh….. I don’t know.” Pepper groaned.

“We have booked the most expensive place in Boston. Tony’s presence will attract the media and we need media’s attention other than the sponsored coverage.” Y/n checked something in her phone. They stood up and headed towards the changing rooms where all the models were.

The show was to start in thirty minutes and everything was meticulously organized, all credit to Y/n, she was the driving force behind the whole showcase.

Wanda took out the dress wrapped in a plastic bag and handed to Y/n. “Open it.” Wanda said with a smile. As Y/n unzip the bag to have a look at the dress, her eyes went wide in astonishment.

“Oh.my.god!!! this is so beautiful….” She exclaimed in joy.

It was a floor length evening gown in maroon color. It had spaghetti strap with deep neck and backless back with a side slit. It was the sexiest most prestigious dress Y/n had seen in her entire life. Wanda had outdone herself with yet another masterpiece that it was and she made it especially for her. Y/n felt tears in her eyes, she was overwhelmed by the gesture and it wasn’t the first time. Wanda hugged her tight seeing her sister’s red eyes.

“Hey c’mon Y/n/n…” she whispered. “I want the world to know that my sister is the hottest mama out there.” Both of them laughed heartily in each others embrace.

Pepper awed from behind and ushered Y/n in the changing rooms to get ready. While Y/n was inside the changing room, Wanda called Bucky. Her fiancé, her one great love.

“Where are you?” Wanda asked through the call.

“Right behind you.” She felt an arm around her waist and a warm breath against her ear. She turned around in his arms and smiled sweetly at him. Bucky leaned in to kiss her softly.

“I missed you.” He said into the kiss. Wanda laughed, “You saw me this morning.”

“It’s been nine hours, love.” He tried to steal another kiss but Pepper came in from behind.

“C’mon guys! I’m gonna take your girl away, you can take the seat Bucky in the hall. The show will start in twenty minutes. Where is everyone…” Pepper’s nerves started to appear, Wanda laughed and shooed Bucky off towards the main hall. Everything had been in perfect order, Y/n’s hard work was evident in the every minor detail. She had a team of equally brilliant and capable people but it was her meticulous nature that outshined everything and everyone.

  ~*~

 Steve parked his car in the parking lot. The House of Blues Boston was lighted up and people from the fashion industry were started pouring in. He made his entrance from the main door. He had been trying to call Pepper’s assistant but couldn’t reach the person. He walked along the corridor praising all the work that had been done. He entered the main hall, the security needed to see the pass that Steve didn’t have, instead he showed them his business card and Tony’s reference. In a second, he was escorted to the VIP section of the hall where only officials were allowed. He was there for barely ten minutes when Pepper came in, dispiriting that Tony wasn’t here. Steve’s austere demeanor and Tony’s absence put Pepper in a bad mood. She excused herself immediately not wanting to engage in any courtesy.

 As the fashion show ushered in, Steve was bored to death. Bucky told him he was busy with some work thing so they planned to meet next day. He wanted to get out of there and was almost at the exit when the announcement for the show stopper occurred and Steve stopped in his tracks.

 Y/n Carter….

 Was he hallucinating?

 No…

 He wasn’t even drunk.

 Was she his Y/n?

 He walked back few steps in and forgot to breathe. In the spotlight Y/n was walking elegantly in a beautiful evening gown, accentuating her curves perfectly. Her boobs were little fuller now, everything about her radiates class, charisma and majestic. She was looking exquisite, her smile was the same as he remembered, maybe even more beautiful. She was still the most stunning woman in Steve’s eyes. He wanted to run to her, took her in his arms and kiss her senseless. He wanted to sit in her feet and begged for forgiveness. He simply wanted to feel her and see if she was even real.

A sound of loud applause brought Steve out of his misery. He shifted on his feet, unable to take a step in Y/n’s direction. While Wanda was speaking to a number of designers and media people, a young woman came to Y/n and whispered something in her ear and it took her a minute to excuse herself from the sea of people to went on a separate way where only staff was allowed. Steve tried to follow her, with heels on Y/n was walking in quite a speed. Steve kept walking behind her at a distance where she wouldn’t know someone’s presence. She crossed the corridor and entered in the open area.

“Mama you back.” Malcolm squealed and ran towards her. Y/n easily crouched down and took him in her arms.

Steve froze when he saw Y/n holding a little kid in her arms. He felt like his heart would stop beating and he'd die in suffocation.

   Had she moved on?

   He clearly heard the kid calling her mama, did that mean she got married and had a baby? Steve wanted the earth to swallow him alive. He'd never been in such pain like he was right now. The idea of her with another man, having a family was a slow painfull death for him. In that moment, he needed his Ma, so that he could cry in her embrace. He wanted her to wake him up from this nightmare. He was struggling to breathe when from a distance he heard something he wasn't ready to hear.

 "Mama, i's daddy, see daddy." Malcolm had seen Steve and now he was pointing towards him. Wriggled out of Y/n's hold he ran towards Steve.

 “He… photo daddy, mama.” Malcolm wriggled out of Y/n’s arms and ran towards Steve. Steve didn’t realize that he came right into the view of the little kid. Steve saw him coming towards him.

 Why was this kid running towards him? Steve thought and looked behind to see if there was someone but there wasn’t anyone except for him, Y/n and Malcolm.

 “Daddy…” Malcolm came to stop right before the very eyes of him. Looking like an angel, his face was full of innocence and happiness. Steve felt a harrowing pain in his heart. This little kid has the same blue eyes just as his own. The dark blonde silky hair, same nose and same lips, the little boy was the exact replica of him and Steve left with no doubt but to believe that Malcolm was his. His baby, his blood, his son. And then there was this radiant smile on his baby’s face that he inherited from his mama. The same smile Steve fell in love with, Y/n’s cheerful smile was one of the many things he got enthralled with. He hunkered down and hold Malcolm in his arms, nuzzling his face in little boy’s neck. He knew he’d scare the little boy away if he cry too much but it was like he didn’t have control over his emotions.

 “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…. I’m sorry….” He kept chanting in Malcolm’s neck.

 “Why cwy, daddy?” Malcolm tried to break his grip. “Why sad?”

 Steve didn’t say anything. He couldn’t say anything, he just looked in Y/n’s direction and saw her looking straight into his eyes.

   Her eyes were dispassionate….

  Y/n was aghasted when Malcolm squirmed out of her arms and ran towards what he thought was his dad. She had shown him his dad’s pictures. She was so angry at Steve but she couldn’t take away Malcolm’s right to know his father. All her life, she had missed her dad’s presence while growing up so she knew both parents are equally important for a child. She only got to meet her dad on occasions or ceremonies, her mother Eleanor had a full custody of her and Peggy. When she turned sixteen, Steve took her to meet her dad for the first time in years and ever since that she made it a routine to visit him every other weekend. After graduating high school, she even attended her dad’s wedding.

 When Malcolm turned one, she started showing him Steve’s pictures so he would know his father. She couldn’t let her anger, heartbreak and pain be the reason to snatch her son’s right to know his father. So when she turned around and saw Steve, she felt betrayed all over again. She wanted to slap him on the face but then she saw Steve red and tear-stricken face. He was holding Malcolm like his life was dependent on the very hold of his arms around their son. She took robotic steps in Steve’s direction, her heart was breaking in every step. The events of the night she left New York City were flashing before her eyes.

  “You want jevvy beans, daddy?” Y/n saw Malcolm cupping his dad’s face in his small hands.

 “Daddy, no cwy. Daddy bwave boy.” Malcolm kissed Steve’s forehead.

 “Malcolm…” Y/n called.

“Mama, why Daddy Cwying? Why sad?”

 “I don’t know, sweetheart.” Her tone was colder than she intended when she said, “He must have done something wrong.”

 Steve stood up, his eyes were red and puffy. He had grown a beard, Y/n noticed. He was still very handsome like she knew all those years ago but the bags underneath his eyes were new.

 “Why did you hide my son from me?” rage was seething through Steve’s voice.

 “Excuse me?” Y/n scoffed.

 “My son knows who you are, isn’t that enough for you?”

 Steve was dumb founded for a moment, anger he felt for a bit was dissipated in air. It was hard for him to believe the person standing before him was Y/n, full of bitterness and bizarreness. She was the same Y/n he fell in love with. Hell, he was still very much in love with her now even more if that was even possible. She was the mother of his child, a child he had met moments ago. He was swamped with emotions. He enveloped her in his arms in a bone crushing hug.

 “I’ve missed you, Y/n/n…. I’ve missed you so much.”

 Moments later, Y/n got herself freed from Steve’s tight embrace, without letting Malcolm notice. She was shaken as much as Steve was but both of them were going through different emotions. While Y/n was feeling dismal and betrayed, Steve was hopeful to fix what he had destroyed.

[imaginesbymonika]

Standing by and waiting at your backdoor.

Part 2

Pairing: Johnny Knoxville x fem!Reader

Plot: Johnny never had any problems with picking up girls, one of the bonuses of having a TV Show. But when he falls in love with his childhood best friend, who is in a relationship with a jerk who doesn’t understand her the way he does, his fame isn’t helping him at all.

Warning: angst

Inspired by the song ‘You belong with me’ by Taylor Swift (and an edit i saw on tik tok by @bowiedjarin)

masterlist / previous part

When Johnny opens his eyesin the morning a sluggish groan escapes him. He had spent the night dreaming nothing but nonsense, even if he cannot remember it vividly- he simply feels awful.

Without eating anything he shortly changes into comfortable clothes and walks out of his apartment. He knew, that today was supposed to be fun but as he got into the car, he simply felt uncomfortable. The entire one-hour ride to the lake was silent, he didn’t even bother to turn on the radio. He wants to turn his car around and call in sick, but that would only make people suspicious of something and he didn’t want that.

They would end up asking him “what’s wrong?” and he’d have to say “well, my first love from my old hometown which I lied about just moved here, and I still am not over the humiliation I faced back when I was younger, and yeah did I mention I lied about basically everything?”. Yeah, that doesn’t feel right.

When Johnny reaches the parking space near the lake, he places his car next to Dave’s. His friends are already filming and he presses his head against his steering wheel. He takes a couple of deep breaths, while he listens to their laughter in the distance before he finally gets out of his vehicle.

“Johnny!”, a voice calls out for him and when he turns around he makes eye contact with Ehren, who is running towards him. A smile emerges on his lips at the sight of his friend. “So good to see you, we were worrying you wouldn’t come.” Knoxville shakes his head:” Traffic was a bitch. How are you?” He pulls the man, who has lost a tooth a couple of days ago into a tight hug:” You still haven’t been to the dentist?”

“I don’t have the time.”, he explains as both men begin to walk:” By the way, how are you- you seem to be a bit pale.” “I haven’t had breakfast yet, I woke up rather later.”, he clarifies and makes a sharp hand gesture to imply that it’s not as bad as it seems:” Is Chris’ girlfriend here yet? He told me that she’d join us today.”

Ehren nods:” Yeah, she’s primarily hanging out with Stephanie while we’re shooting. She’s a total sweetheart, and Chris comes off to be head over heels for her.” At that a small smile arises on Johnny’s lips:” That’s nice.” “It truly is, everyone’s quite happy for him. He called her ‘the love of his life” when she went to take a piss in the bushes.” Johnny giggles:” Well, if that’s not romantic, I don’t know what is.”

“Knoxville!”, a couple of people say out loud as soon as the friends both arrived at the lake. The sun is glowing brightly from above and he puts his sunglasses on. He waves at his friends, who are either already in the water or standing on the slimy ramp. And for a minute all his concerns are gone and he wishes he could live the rest of his life like this.

But then he notices a woman out of the corner of his eyes and when he turns his head into her direction he sees Stephanie sitting on a big blanket. She chuckles as she looks at the woman laying next to her. And when the two make eye contact his face drops immediately.

It’s as if all air get’s knocked out of his lungs the moment he recognizes her features.

But he isn’t the only one. The young woman stares right back at him, with her eyes wide open in surprise or horror- Johnny can’t tell.

“Johnny!”, Chris declares as he reaches him. He pulls his best friend into a wet hug, while Johnny’s eyes are still fully fixated on her. “Oh, looks like you two have met already!”, he tells, and the excitement in his voice tears Johnny’s heart in two. “John, this is Y/N!”

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

I think one of the issues with the writing is they fail to understand that certain ideas don't work very well outside of fanfiction

Like the constant everything is Marinette's fault, and Adrien is so neglected yet still their both so nice

Whump, hurt/ comfort, hurt no comfort, angst, etc can work in bucket loads, but that's almost always in fanfiction.

Because when an original author does it, it doesn't have the same effect. Both may be writing them into pain and suffering but it's like the power difference takes steroids when it's the original. Projecting onto vs forcing them through something

When I write or even just think of fanfiction/ au ideas I'll dive headfirst into angst and pain, even saying to myself "If I can't make myself cry then what's the point!" or even when I'm reading

But I don't do that when I'm thinking about original ideas, I just don't.

I literally plan to have my 6th member in a 5 man band die by her father killing her, but I internally treat it differently than making a character plan their own suicide on their 18th birthday. And that reflects in the writing

I'm torturing both but one I created, to begin with, and the other I altered

Salt and character hate

Like if you hate a character you've created so much 2 things come to mind

1. Why?

2. Take a step back

I'm writing the murder father to be the big unsexy bad, but I know I'm the one that's in control and technically the one that's going to make him so bad and murder his daughter. I don't need to go on about how bad he is and overindulge. I need to show that he's bad

In fanfiction, especially when we feel a character isn't treated realistically or actions aren't treated like they should be, has reason to tell and overindulge

Thomas is writing his own character's Salt. aka Chloe

Like it does get ridiculous how bad Alya is portrayed in a lot of Salt fics, but put it in the perspective of she's treated like this genius and the bestest ever friend, then doesn't fact check before posting a massive claim from someone she just met, telling her friend to always check her sources when said friend brings up concerns and the friend is always pushing her out of her comfort zone to creepy levels. It makes sense that people want to tell and overindulge in how bad she is

Writers, artists, even those who just internally come up and keep up with story ideas, are really the closest we will ever get to gods being real. Because we really are in practice the gods to these worlds. If you create a starting world you're a capital G God, the ones you expect to be portrayed as all-knowing, all good, always there, to that world, like the Christian God. You should never have to remind your world you're good (even if to who varies) because you should show that you're good. When you are taking and adjusting it you're a god with a lower case g, the ones portrayed as immensely powerful but with human flaws, like the Greek gods, they may be seen as better but flat-out pettiness can be found. Can you change if you're a lower case or capital G, yes, but that's a lot to do with how you treat your work

I can understand where you’re coming from. Part of me is wondering if the whole reason Alya is getting more focus this season is a way to prove to the critics she isn’t as bad as they say she is, just like how they’re ramping up some of Chloe’s negative traits to stick it to the people who like her more than other characters.

And like you said, the show has a serious problem of telling us how to feel about a character instead of actually giving us reasons to root for them, especially when it comes to Adrien, Alya, Marinette, and even Gabriel at times.

I still think the story you’re writing sounds interesting though.

[let-them-read-fics]

Empress of the Heart (Pt. 1)

Requested By Anon: "Reader is an actress, and she meets Jennie at an event. They have a one night stand afterward, and months later they meet again." (It was a long request so I had to sum it up lol)

Pairing: Jennie x Fem!Actress!Reader

Word Count: ~ 9,351 😳 (Both parts combined)

Warnings / Misc. -- Smut / Suggestive Themes, Angst, Fluff

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Hello again! Guys, I'm actually really proud of this one. It gets better as it goes on. I hope you enjoy it (you'd better, because I stayed up until 8am writing again 🥴😂). I had to split this story into two parts to appease the Tumblr overlords, just so we’re clear.

♡ Happy reading ♡

Part 2

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"Who's that?" Rosé asks, leaning in closer to the maknae as she points to a slightly recognizable face in the crowd. 

"I dunno," Lisa shrugs, throwing a thumb over her shoulder, "ask Jisoo." The Australian does as she says, padding over to seek out an answer from their unnie. 

"Y/N L/N, I believe. Her company is supposed to make a big announcement later." Jisoo informs, adding a nod to the end of her statement for certainty. Jennie stands beside them all, taking in the crowd of staff and business people hailing from all of the most powerful entertainment companies in Korea. The big dogs have all gathered here tonight to drop some major announcements for their upcoming projects and set up arrangements for future endeavors. 

"What do you think it'll be?" Jennie asks, eyes still trained on you as you converse with a famous actress. Her breath catches in her throat when you throw your head back, eyes filling with tears of laughter at something the high class woman said. You're absolutely stunning. 

"It could be anything, honestly. Her company's full of talent in every category." 

"Yeah, their newest girl group broke a record for Youtube streams in the first hour after release. Still didn't beat ours, though," Lisa adds with a smug look, holding her head a little higher. She's only playing, of course -- she's one of the most humble people Jennie knows. 

"She's really pretty," Jennie breathes out, speaking the words that have been rolling around in her mind since she laid eyes on you. The other girls adamantly agree, nodding their heads with purpose. 

"Do you wanna go talk to her? YG would probably like that; maybe we can let Jisoo do a little schmoozing." Rosé smirks, playfully nudging the unnie. Jisoo rolls her eyes with an amused scoff, quickly swatting the blonde's hand away. 

"I don't know, she seems pretty busy." Her words are unsure, weary -- her normal confidence is wavering a bit, now replaced with some type of nervousness that she can't quite explain. This isn't like her; why is she so anxious?

"Come on, it'll be fun." Lisa decides for them, leading the way with Jennie's hand clutched in her own; the brunette would surely slip away otherwise. 

They approach you from an angle, caught right in your blind spot as you continue your small talk with a new business exec. The man sees the girls behind you, waiting for their turn, and after a few more moments he leaves you with an office number to reach him by.

"Good evening… Y/N, right?" Jisoo leads politely, smiling as you turn to face them. You look even more dazzling up close, and Jennie's posture stiffens. She's definitely seen you somewhere before.

"That's me," you say sweetly, greeting all of them and committing their names to memory. 

"Jennie," she introduces, stretching a hand out to you. Your eyes flutter down to it before you grasp it within your own, the simple action appearing unbelievably cute to her.

"How're you doing tonight? I hear you've got some big news for us." Lisa wiggles her eyebrows, voice bouncy with anticipation.

You giggle, and Jennie thinks it may just be the sweetest thing she's ever heard. "It's a little hectic, if I'm honest, but I'm enjoying myself. What about you guys? And you'll just have to wait and see what we have in store for you." You end the sentence with a wink that just happened to be directed at Jennie, despite Lisa being the one to ask the question. She tries to fight the blush that soon rises to her cheeks. 

"We're doing well, I'd say. It's actually kind of nice to get out of the dorm and meet some new people." Rosé says almost wistfully, her eyes sending a fleeting glance around the room at her statement. 

"I know how that can feel. When I was first starting out I didn't get many opportunities for roles. But then I met my manager at the café I picked up a second job at, and the rest is history." You smile softly at the memory, recalling the events of that fateful day. You can't imagine where you'd be right now if things had played out differently. 

"You're an actress?" Jisoo asks, sounding like she just put two-and-two together. You nod at her, noticing the way that Jennie looks at you in deep thought. You can practically see the wheels turning. 

"So that's where I recognize you from. You guest starred in that JTBC miniseries earlier this year, didn't you?" 

"Ding ding ding, we have a winner." You smile, bowing your head in praise. It warms your heart to see her face light up, knowing that she finally felt that rush of putting her finger on the elusive thoughts in her head. Pulling knowledge you previously believed forgotten from the foggy depths of your brain is a rewarding experience in itself, and you're pleased that she remembered you. 

"I'm glad I made an impression during my short time on screen," you quirk, leaning in closer to her. 

"With skills like yours? You're unmatched, Y/N." She flirts, finally finding her bearings again. Her confidence is returning now, slowly but surely, and she pats herself on the back for not hiding behind her hands when you send her a tempting smile. 

"Ah, you're too kind--" you begin, only to be cut off by a tap on your shoulder. It's one of your co-stars.

"Good evening, ladies," he bows, "I'm sorry to break this up, but Y/N is needed by management." 

Your shoulders sag at this, his words sinking in. You'd much rather spend the night tucked away with the girls, getting to know them better -- especially Jennie, who makes your heart speed up anytime she looks at you. 

"I hate to go," they nod in agreement, sad to have to part ways. They really enjoyed speaking with you, and they'd be lying if they said they wanted to stop anytime soon. 

"But maybe I'll catch you later?" The question sounds hopeful, albeit a bit unsure as you scrunch your face up. They affirm that they'd "like that very much," and your shoulders relax a bit. Maybe there's still some hope for you all. 

◇◇◇◇◇  2 Hours Later  ◇◇◇◇◇

"Exactly! She shouldn't have forgiven him after that," you rant to Jisoo, talking about some characters from your favorite kdrama. 

"Babo, I tell you." She says dramatically, rolling her eyes. The action garners a chuckle from you, and Jennie finds herself smiling as she follows along with the conversation. She must've made her staring too obvious, because a minute later your eyes meet hers from across the table. She blinks, surprise etched gracefully into her features, and she clears her throat. Both of you have been stealing glances at one another all night, and things have only ramped up since you snuck away from management to see them again. You assured them you wouldn't get in trouble, but that was honestly the last thing on your mind. 

From her seat across from you, Jennie can see the curve of your body, your silhouette highlighted by the lights that shine on the wall behind you. They're dimmed somewhat to give a comfortable, soft glow to the room, and they contrast with the perfect curve of your face. She lets her eyes trail lower, admiring the expanse of your chest and how your fingers rest against the table, mindlessly playing with the expensive tablecloth. 

What you do next makes her choke on the water she had so bravely dared to take a drink of. 

You lean forward slightly, just enough for her to see your cleavage, while still appearing inconspicuous and innocent. The smirk you try to suppress tells her you know exactly what you're doing, and her cheeks grow hot. 

"Excuse me," she mutters to the table, quickly standing and all but running outside for some fresh air. She wants -- needs -- to put some distance between the two of you if she plans to have any self control. 

Cool air immediately greets her as she steps outside, hearing the sleek automatic door slide shut behind her. She can breathe now, and begin to soothe her racing mind. Despite only knowing you for the better part of 4 hours, she's already attracted to you. Way more than she cares to admit, as she presses her thighs together to put out the fire you started within her. 

No more than 5 minutes later, the doors slide open once more. 

"Everything alright?" You ask, tone dripping with amusement as you take in her flustered state. It's obvious that she's okay, just simply turned on. 

"Never better," she mumbles, glancing up at you with a lopsided smile. 

"You know, you ran out pretty fast back there. You sure know how to worry a girl." You fake a pout at her. 

"Oh, you don't say?" She plays along, approaching you with what few shreds of confidence she has left. She tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, whispering into it, "Well, I'm all good." 

"Wanna see for yourself?" She continues, drawing back slightly to take your hands within her own and wrap them around her waist. She smiles as they roam over her body, making sure to be thorough as you "check her out." 

She groans when your hand grazes over a sweet spot on her thigh, causing you to pause and tut at her, "Tsk tsk, Jennie. It looks like I'll have to inspect this a little further." She gulps at your words, mind clouded once again by filthy thoughts of you. 

"Let's get out of here," she suggests, taking your hand to lead you away. You chuckle at her eagerness, only capable of nodding as she basically drags you to her car. 

◇◇◇◇◇

Despite feeling like two horny teenagers, you and Jennie actually opted to slow things down and get to know each other more. She's one of the most interesting people you've ever met, and you could listen to her talk for hours on end. The feeling is beyond mutual, and she doesn't mind that she has to wait a little longer to have you. The promise of what the night will hold for the two of you thrills her, and the anticipation only heightens her feelings.

Takeout containers lay abandoned in her car, long forgotten about as you sit next to each other on the hood. The chilly surface of the windshield presses against your back, making you all the more thankful for having had the foresight to wear a coat tonight. You make a mental note to thank your stylist for the suggestion. 

Stars are beginning to twinkle in the distance, slowly coming out of their peaceful slumber to greet the evening sky. They bring to mind all the nights you spent in your backyard as a child, laid out on a warm blanket as you gazed up into space. Back when only trivial issues existed in your world, leaving you with an unscarred heart and unadulterated outlook on life. Those times were simple, only complicated by whatever drama was going on at school or what new person your friends liked. Back then you had no idea of what the future held for you -- what you'd end up doing with your life. If you had a chance to talk to your younger self, you'd tell her to enjoy those days as much as possible; to not take them for granted for even a second. 

Everyday you're reminded that fame is truly a blessing and a curse -- you miss the days that you could roam the streets freely with whomever you wanted to, not having to worry about paparazzi or the media, but you're thankful for where you are now. You get to do what you love, everyday, and make money from it -- it's what everyone wishes for in life; and although you've worked your ass off to get here, you owe a lot of credit to the fans. 

"It's so beautiful up here," Jennie says, voice stuck between a whisper and sigh as she lays her head on your shoulder. 

"You see that building over there, with the orange lights and trees around it?" You ask, pointing in the direction of the building. Her eyes follow the invisible path your finger makes, and she spots it, nodding for you to continue. 

"My mom used to work there; it's a daycare. I always loved helping out. The kids were so adorable." A bittersweet smile plays on your lips as you look down at your lap, clearly reminiscing. Jennie notices, brushing a strand of hair out of your face as she says, "I bet you miss it." 

"I do," you sigh, clenching your jaw briefly, "those were the days. Seoul's home, but sometimes it feels so distant."

"I know how that feels." You don't miss the way her eyes cast down, a hint of sadness behind them, her fingers toying with yours on her thigh. Life in the spotlight isn't all it's cracked up to be, and neither of you are strangers to that all too familiar pang of longing. 

"I'm happy to be here with you tonight, though," you try to turn the conversation cheery again, and Jennie's thankful for that. "I haven't had this much fun in a long time." 

Your plan works, and soon she's pepping up. "Me neither. Being with you feels...different. In a good way." Your smile widens exponentially when she adds, "A very good way." 

"Don't get too cheesy on me, now," you roll your eyes teasingly, wrapping both of your arms around her and pulling her flush up against your body. She lays her head on your chest, reveling in the scent of your perfume and the warmth radiating from you. Her hand comes to rest against your ribs, lightly rubbing patterns against them as the two of you continue star gazing. She can feel your heartbeat pick up when she slides her hand downwards, playing with the hem of your shirt innocently. 

Does she have any idea what she's doing to you?

Yes, yes she does. After all, your body is basically selling you out at this point. 

"Y/N?" 

"Mmm?" You hum, eyes closed and head leaned back against the windshield. Her skin is soft against yours, and your shared warmth has put you at ease.

"Do you wanna go somewhere? I really don't want the night to be over yet." Your heart flutters at her words; the fact that a woman such as Jennie is so reluctant to leave you is baffling in itself. 

"I'd love that, Jennie. What did you have in mind?" 

For a moment, Jennie's mind takes it there. She allows herself to imagine what it would be like to feel your skin against hers, connection unrestricted by clothing; how your kisses would feel against her lips, her body; what beautiful sounds you would make as she pushed you closer and closer to the edge. She can't deny how attracted she is to you, nor does she want to; but she also doesn't want to ruin the innocent moments you're sharing. She doesn't want to taint them with the lustful ideas that flood her mind anytime you give her that look, or caress her thigh absentmindedly. 

"How does the park sound?" 

"With you? There's nowhere I'd rather be." 

Despite her efforts, Jennie blushes at your statement, feeling that embarrassing warmth creep up the back of her neck. You've made her blush more in the span of one night than she previously had in her entire life, and that boosts your confidence tenfold.

"Who's being cheesy now, huh?" She asks, pinching your side playfully as she sits up. Her legs swing around until she's fully facing you, sitting criss-cross as the two of you smile at one another. 

Neither of you move for a while, both content with just admiring each other's beauty. Her fingers lace with yours, and after a moment she brings your hand up to her lips to lay a kiss to it. The action -- more so, how soft her lips are against your skin -- catches you off guard, and your breathing hitches. All at once, you're acutely aware of how badly you want to kiss her. 

As if things couldn't get anymore tempting, her tongue darts out of her mouth to soothe her lips, making them glisten in the dying light of the evening. 

She sees your eyes dart down to them, and her body leans closer to you ever so slightly, seemingly having a mind of its own. You meet her gaze again, silently asking for permission as you glance back down at her lips. She responds by giving one single nod before leaning in close enough that your noses almost brush against each other. 

"You're stunning." The compliment sounds breathy as it slips out of your mouth, but you're beyond caring at this point. Your pride was thrown out the window the second Jennie showed interest in you. 

"Don't look at me like that," she says, gently biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from closing the distance. She wants you to be the one to do it.

"Like what?" 

"Like you're undressing me with your eyes." Her gaze casts down to your lips again, seemingly glued there as she watches them move when you speak your reply.

"You act like you weren't doing the same thing at the event." Her confidence falters momentarily, but she fights to hold her ground. "My colleagues even noticed it, babe -- you've gotta get better at hiding your attraction." You say with a chuckle, watching as Jennie's eyes grow wider. Had she really made it so obvious?

"We wouldn't be here right now if I was good at hiding it, so I think you owe me one." 

"Touché," you say, quirking an eyebrow in thought. She's right, as usual. "How can I ever make it up to you?" Your voice wiggles dramatically, face contorting in a mock apology. 

"I know a way," she says lowly, smiling as your hand finds its way to her knee a moment later. You hook your fingers in the crook of it, drawing a surprised gasp from her as she falls forward and into your arms. 

Here goes nothing. 

You raise your left hand to her cheek, brushing the back of your fingers against it gently as you build up the nerve to kiss her. Your other arm is wrapped securely around her waist in order to hold her steady above you. 

Her palms are pressed to the glass behind you, and her hair falls gracefully around you, creating a little curtain to shield you from the outside world. Finally gaining enough courage, you press your lips to hers in a soft kiss. It's slow and mild as you set a sensual rhythm, growing accustomed to the taste of each other. She sighs into your mouth as you reposition her so that she's straddling your lap. 

"Y/N, we're never gonna make it to the park if you keep kissing me like that." She warns, though her words hold no real threat at all. She wants this just as much as you do. 

You lay a trail of light kisses up her neck, all of them far too gentle for her liking right now. "Is this better, your highness?" You ask smugly, smiling against her throat as a frustrated sigh leaves her lips.

She places a hand on your chest to push you up against the glass, letting her fingers skim over your collarbone. Just as she's about to pounce, the sound of your phone ringing interrupts the moment. It vibrates in your pocket, right between Jennie's thighs, and you stifle a giggle at the reaction it would've drawn from her had you not quickly retrieved it. 

"Hello?" You ask, realizing you hadn't even bothered to check the caller ID. Jennie sits back on your legs, allowing her hands to rest on your hips and draw soothing circles.

"Y/N, I hate to tell you this on such short notice, but you have a new interview scheduled for tomorrow morning at 10AM. I'll send you all the details later." 

You sigh at your manager's words, running a hand over your face to relax yourself. The announcement party was supposed to signal the end of your busy week, but of course life just couldn't work in your favor for once. Now you'd be stuck in some random line of questioning, unable to give them any real answers for the sake of keeping spoilers from getting out. You can think of about a million things you'd rather be doing tomorrow morning, and one of them is sitting on your lap right now. 

"Yeah, okay. I'll talk to you later." You wait for him to say his goodbye before ending the call and turning back to Jennie with an apologetic look. 

"Sorry for ruining the moment." 

"You didn't ruin anything. But luckily for you…" she leans forward again, pressing a kiss to your lips that makes your heart stop for a second, "I can be very merciful." You nearly melt at her words, paired with how she whispers them in your ear. Her warm breath fans over your neck, rendering you speechless as you pull her back to your lips. 

This kiss is different -- full of passion and desire as you grow more used to each other. She raises up on her knees, towering over you as she stares down at you. You look so beautiful right now, your eyes appearing big as you look up into hers, waiting for her next move. She runs her hands through your hair before settling them on your cheeks, cupping the smooth skin and rubbing the pad of her thumb across it. You drag your nails up and down her exposed thighs, and you pat yourself on the back when you notice the trail of goosebumps they leave behind. 

"I actually do wanna go to the park with you, if that's alright. There's something I want to show you. I definitely want to continue this later, though." You say.

She nods at that, a smile making its way to her face that can't possibly be wiped away. As much as she wants to have you writhing underneath her, screaming her name, she can wait. She's content with making as many memories as possible with you tonight, and she's intrigued by the surprise you're hinting at.

A few gentle kisses later, you slide off the hood and help her down before going to open her car door for her. 

"Such a gentlewoman," she praises, pursing her lips at you. 

"Only for you," you wink, making her giggle. 

You quickly make your way to the driver's seat, set on getting to the park ASAP in order to spend as much time as you can with Jennie. After all, you can only stay up so late tonight if you want to be functioning for that interview tomorrow… and let's just say that you plan on being busy later. 

---------

"Voila!" You declare, motioning to some playground equipment in the kid's section of the sizable park. Of all the things she was guessing at, Jennie did not see this coming. 

"What, you came to show me monkey bars, Y/N? I've seen plenty of them--" She asks incredulously, looking around the area filled with miniature tables and chairs to go along with the equipment. 

"What? No, no. I used to play here when I was growing up, and my friend's and I had a secret hiding spot. We always stashed our favorite little knick knacks in it, and we promised we'd only show it to people we deemed worthy."

Jennie watches as your eyes light up at the recounting of such a dear memory, and she grins widely. You truly are a five year old at heart. 

"This is the first time I've been back here, since…" you trail off, realizing just how many years it's been. Being at such a different point in your life while standing in a place you frequented as a child is a weird juxtaposition that you weren't prepared for, but you push it from your mind.

"Anyway, I think you're pretty worthy." You joke, sizing her up. She laughs at that, and you revel in the pleasant sound. You know you probably won't see her again after tonight, so you're determined to ingrain the little things -- like her smile, her laugh -- into your brain. 

"Now, let's see… where did Ashley put it?" You whisper to yourself, scanning the length of the playground. Your eyes travel across the slides, over the swings, and around the monkey bars before you spot that little dip in the siding that you'd recognize anywhere. Jennie soon finds her hand slipping into yours as you lead her over to it, a childlike sense of giddiness on your face. She likes seeing you like this. 

"I hope it's still here," you say to no one, bending down to press your fingers against the old wood. It's far more worn down now, and you're worried that someone has already come by and cleaned out the hiding spot. Putting your doubts aside, you continue. 

"Okay, so don't laugh, but there's a special way you have to open it. Ashley showed it to me one day and it's the only way we could get it to budge after that."

She smiles her gummy smile at you, and you can't help but return the gesture and even steal a quick kiss. She's a bit taken aback when you ball your hand up, using the side of it to deliver a couple blows to the wood in two different spots. Next, you stand and line up your foot, remember exactly how your friend taught you, before executing a calculated kick to the other side. 

At first, Jennie wants to laugh at you; but upon closer inspection, she sees that in fact, a small opening is visible in the wood now. You smirk cockily, knowing full well that she hadn't expected that to work. 

"Told you so," you tease, now bending down again to work the panel free. You wiggle it back and forth repeatedly, being careful not to go too quickly and damage anything else, and eventually it pops out. She watches as you reach in and pull out a mini jewelry box -- the kind that can fit in your hand, mainly meant for rings or other small items. 

"We stole the box from our other friend, Janelle. Had to pay her our allowances for 2 months afterward. Can you believe that?" You ask, shaking your head with another smirk on your lips. Jennie laughs at you in full, loving how carefree you are right now. In a way, she's happy that your manager called earlier; otherwise the two of you most surely would be locked away in your bedroom right now. This experience is definitely one she'll cherish. 

"Unbelievable," she sighs, shaking her head and going along with it. 

You click the latch on the small box, it's material now weathered and rusty as it creaks when you open it. Jennie steps closer to you to examine its contents, and you fight to contain how hard your heart starts beating at the feeling of her hand on your lower back. 

"No way…" you utter, voice full of disbelief as your eyes land on one of your most prized possessions from childhood. 

"What?" Jennie asks, genuinely on the edge of her metaphorical seat. 

"This butterfly hair clip," you inform, slipping the small contraption between your fingers as you hold it up for her to see, "I won it at a fair with my mom and I always wondered where it went…" 

"It's beautiful, Y/N," she says, ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the details etched into it. For something so small and seemingly unassuming, it's actually very unique. 

"I want you to have it." You say, taking a step away so you can look at her. She instantly goes to refuse, saying, "I can't! You just found it after all this time--"

"And I went all that time without it. If you take it, I'll know it's safe with you. And you can use it to remember me by." You say, your gaze softening as you watch her debate with herself. 

"Okay. But if you ever want it back, call me." 

"Roger that." You say dorkily, earning yourself a roll of those dark eyes you find yourself getting lost in. 

"And for the record, Y/N, I could never forget you. Pretty hair clip or not." Her confession makes you feel happy on a whole new level; knowing that you've left an impact on her is truly a wonderful thing. 

"So, what now?" She asks, breaking the happy lull your conversation found itself in. 

"We can walk around the park for a little while, or…" you start, waiting for Jennie to prod you further. Both of you know exactly what game you're playing, but it's still fun nonetheless. 

"Or?" She inquires, stepping closer as she wraps her arms around your shoulders. She nonchalantly gives you a once over, knowing what power her darkening gaze holds over you. 

"We can go back to my place. Maybe play a little footsie, who knows?" You say, shrugging your shoulders with a stupid grin. Even while seducing someone, you can't resist being a geek. 

"Footsie?" Jennie gasps, raising her eyebrows, "What kind of girl do you take me for? That only happens after at least 2 dates in." 

"Such a prude, Ms. Kim. How can I change your mind?" 

She presses a finger to her cheek, pretending to think, before getting an idea. Her lips flirt with the shell of your ear as she whispers obscenities into it, turning you to mush with every new scenario she puts in your head. 

You stiffen as she kisses your jaw, the action catching you off guard as you continue reeling from her words. 

"I can do that, I think," you cough out, stumbling over the words a little bit. She laughs at the effect she has on you; seeing your confidence waver is a nice role reversal, and it's something she could definitely get used to. 

"Let's go." She commands, now taking your hand to pull you after her, just like you had done before.

◇◇◇◇◇

It's painful, how hard Jennie has to restrain herself from touching you as you fumble with your keys. She told herself she'd keep her hands to herself until you got inside, just in case any stray paparazzi managed to catch you two together. The last thing either of you need is some new scandal, especially with your careers in a vulnerable spot as they're really beginning to take off.

"If you don't get that door open within the next 10 seconds, then I'll just take you out here in the hallway." 

You audibly gulp at the image she just conjured up in your mind, and you speed up your movements. The prompting worked, evidently, because soon she's practically shoving you through the doorway.

"Finally," she breathes against your lips, pressing you up against the door once you've locked it back. 

"I've been waiting to do this since we met earlier." She indulges you in that little secret, smiling at the way you whimper when she pulls your leg up to wrap around her hips. 

"I'm all yours," you say, making Jennie's heart flutter at the sentiment. For the night, you're hers and she's yours. "...now kiss me," you command, growing more impatient with each feather-light kiss she presses to your jaw. 

"So bossy," she toys, making you roll your eyes. 

"You have no idea, babe." 

She bites her lip as your husky voice makes its way to her ears, thick with the desire she's been steadily building within you all night. You tug her forward, your fingers bunching up the material of her shirt with little care as her lips meet yours. 

Her tongue swipes across your bottom lip, asking for a permission that you granted the second she touched you. You pull her chin down slightly, allowing the kiss to deepen as you tangle your other hand in her hair. 

After an especially bruising bite to her lip -- one that thrills her to her core -- she pulls away, breathlessly asking, "How're you so good at this?" 

You cackle against her, taken aback by how genuine the question sounded. "Practice for the kdramas, of course." 

"I haven't had to do this," you slide a hand between your bodies, smirking at the gasp that sounds off deep in her throat as you make contact with her, "yet though. That might be a little extreme for the screen." 

"You think?" She scoffs softly, bringing her hands up to gather your hair to one side. She presses gentle kisses to your neck, prepping the surface for the dark marks she'll most certainly be leaving there later. 

"Ready?" You ask, making sure she wants to go through with this.

"You have no idea, babe." She copies your statement from earlier, garnering another smile from you. She swears she can never get enough of that sweet look on your face.

"Follow me," you say, giving her another peck to last until you reach the bedroom.

◇◇◇◇◇  The Morning After ◇◇◇◇◇

Warm, glittering rays of sunlight sneak past the curtains of your apartment window, shining gently through the light material. A dream-like haze befalls the room, serving as a wonderful greeting once you peek your eyes open. The only thing capable of rivaling such a wonderful sight is the woman beside you, her soft breaths keeping your shoulder warm. 

As you turn your head to look at her, careful not to wake her, your heart flips. Having her here next to you is the only reason you even believe last night happened; it was magical -- the stuff of fantasy. The two of you did everything: acted on every desire, every impulse -- you truly made the most of the night, determined to make it unforgettable. 

A few blissful minutes later, she stirs beside you. "Good morning, Y/N." Her eyes remain closed, still safe from the bright light of the morning as she smirks at the memories replaying in her mind. 

You lay a small kiss to her lips, simply missing how they feel against your own. "Morning, beautiful." 

A content sigh slips past her lips as she presses them against your neck, cuddling further into you. "Last night was fun." 

You decide to tease her. "Eh, I've had better." 

If there's one thing that Jennie knows, it's that she's good in bed -- great, even -- and you definitely seemed to be enjoying yourself last night, just as much as she was. Still though, a bit of insecurity runs through her as she raises up on her elbow to look at you through her lashes. 

"Really?" She stills her fingers on your arm, stopping them from continuing the trail that they had been blazing just seconds ago. Her eyebrows furrow subtly, the action almost unnoticed by you. 

Deciding the joke isn't worth it, you cup her cheek and raise her head so she can meet your eyes. 

"No, I'm kidding. Last night was… something else." You chuckle, smiling as your eyes move around the room in an attempt to find the right word for it. When none come to mind -- no words capable of conveying how great it was -- you look back to her.

She has a knowing grin on her face, "I couldn't agree more." 

Sneaking a glance at the clock propped up on your bedside table, you get an idea. "You know, Jennie…" you start, purring her name out as you had last night, garnering that achingly familiar groan from her, "...we still have a few hours before either of our schedules start." Your suggestion hangs in the air as you roll her over onto her back, hovering over her and brushing your noses together. 

"Hmm, you don't say? Well you're in luck; I still have some things I wanna try out." She plays back, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of your lips as her hands wander over your body.

Your eyes widen in shock, "What the hell could you POSSIBLY be thinking of?? We tried just about everything." She laughs at your reaction and pulls you down closer to her body to whisper in your ear. Jennie can feel you tremble with every new image she puts in your head, just like she had in the park, her lips dragging you further under as she sneaks little kisses to your skin here and there. 

"Let me get this gay straight: you want me to do that on the balcony? What if my neighbors see?" 

"They won't, we're on one of the top floors. And even if they do… would that really be so bad?" She lets the question hang in the air; she'd be lying if she said the idea of getting caught doesn't thrill her. Thinking of your lips on her neck as she rocks against you, pinned to the railing while out in the open for the world to see, sends a rush of warmth through her. 

"I wish you weren't so good at convincing me to do things. You're dangerous, Jennie Kim." You warn, pointing a disapproving finger at her. Your eyes nearly pop out when she kisses it, taking the digit in between her lips while looking up at you innocently. This woman will be the death of you. 

◇◇ Back At The Blackpink Dorm ◇◇

"Yah, I know! The new update looks so weird--" 

"There she is," Lisa says, motioning to the doorway, interrupting Jisoo and Rosé’s conversation about whatever new video game the unnie had downloaded.

Jennie leans on the heavy door as she locks it behind her, lazily spinning around on her heel with her lips drawn back in a huge gummy smile. 

"Somebody's happy…" Jisoo teases, shooting her a smirk. She's still riding the high you put her on, and it's no wonder her members are noticing. It's not like she's exactly trying to hide it, either. 

"How was your night? Have fun with Y/N?" The maknae wiggles her eyebrows while propping herself up on her elbows to see Jennie's reaction.

"LISA! She wasn't supposed to know!" Rosé shouts, letting out a disappointed huff. The younger girl only shrugs, a stupid smirk on her lips. Some people just wanna watch the world burn. 

The brunette's daze is momentarily broken at this, and she asks what they're talking about. 

Jisoo lets out a hesitant breath before explaining, "We saw you two leave together, but we agreed to not bring it up until you did." She shoots some daggers at Lisa before continuing, "Somebody can't seem to keep her mouth shut, though." 

Jennie only chuckles now, not really caring if they knew or not. Her night was too wonderful to keep to herself; she would've ended up telling them anyway. 

"Gather round, girls; I'll fill you in." 

◇◇◇◇◇ Months Later  ◇◇◇◇◇

"Why exactly do we have to go to this premiere again?" Jennie grumbles, looking out the window of their limousine. She'd much rather be back at the dorm, snuggled into her cozy heap of pillows and blankets with Netflix playing on her tv. 

"Some of our colleagues are starring as background characters, so YG wants us to attend and show our support." Jisoo informs, always seeming to have more knowledge than all of the other girls combined. Jennie nods; the reasoning is sound, but she'd still prefer to be home. Mingling with business people for god knows how long doesn't seem all that enticing to her. 

"What's the movie?" Lisa asks, throwing the question behind her to the other girls as she searches the cubby for some complimentary snacks. 

"Empress of the Heart," Rosé answers, finally knowing something that Jisoo doesn't. 

"Let's watch the trailer for it. If we have to sit through it then we might as well see what we're getting ourselves into." Lisa suggests, her fingers busy opening the bag of chips she chose from the assortment. 

"Yeah, okay." Jennie says, her statement followed by words of agreement from the other girls. Rosé takes her phone out to search the title, pepping up when she spots it. She whispers something to Jisoo and Lisa, Jennie paying no mind as she watches the buildings pass by. Her favorite thing to fidget with is secure in her grip, occupying her mind. It's familiar design feels good in her hands -- like it's right where it belongs. (Yes, this is what you think it is).

The other girls put their acting skills to use as they hit play, keeping straight faces when your voice comes through the phone speakers. Jennie's head snaps over to them, recognizing the sound in an instant. "Y-Y/N's starring in it?" She asks, voice coming out as a stutter. The thought of seeing you again thrills her, but she doesn't know if she can do that without falling even deeper. Your night together left her with lasting feelings, none of which she was prepared for in the slightest, and she knows they'll be reignited the moment she lays eyes on you. 

"Mhm." They nod sympathetically, all knowing how much she's thought about you the last few months. 

Their driver knocks on the partition, requesting to open it. They give him the all clear, and soon he's rolling it down to inform them, "We're here, ladies." 

"I'll be okay," Jennie tells them, attempting to stop their worries from growing anymore than they already have. She plays the statement back in her head, whispering it to herself as she exits the limo; tonight could only go one of two ways, and it depends entirely on you.

☆☆ Part 2 Linked Up Top ☆☆

[elena-reina]

I Deserve Better - Draco Malfoy x Reader

Prompt: You knew Draco had a reputation to uphold, but when is enough going to be enough?

Warnings: lil angst

a/n: I had a dream similar to this and I wanted to bring it to light. Thoughts?

Part 2

“Draco!” you gasped, letting the still air fill your lungs. Your eyes searched for something, anything, to focus on to calm the pounding of your heart. You gripped the sheets beneath your fingers, scrunching them in your fist. The other boys in the dorm stirred from your loud outburst, but, thankfully, didn’t awaken. The howling wind from outside filled your ears whilst your mind ran ramped. 

You hadn’t slept in his room in a while. Actually, you haven’t seen much of each other for that fact. Other than short Grand Hall visits and passing each other through the corridors, it was like he was nonexistent in your life.

If it wasn’t for that fact that you asked to sleep with him tonight, you probably wouldn’t have been together right now.

Draco’s eyes widened in sudden-fear, being ripped from his slumber. Seeing you sit up, he looked at you curiously. He rubbed the crust out of his tired eyes and pushed himself up, leaning on his hands. The duvet, fell off of his torso, revealing his boxers that hung loosely around his waist.

“Y/N?”

You turned your head towards his direction. Opening your mouth, you couldn’t form any words. You licked your dry lips before attempting again.

Pushing himself off of his arms and, instead, putting his arm around you, you shivered at his touch. He lightly trailed the small of your back with his fingertips soothingly in an attempt to get you to relax.

“Love, you’re worrying me. Has something happened? Bad dream?”

His voice was deep and husky.

“Yeah.. you could say that.”

The truth of the matter is that you weren’t having a bad dream. Actually, it was a wonderful dream. Enough to make your heartache and eyes sting with a longing.

Grinning you reached out to grab Draco’s hand, turning around and yanked him towards you. You tilted your head so that it falls back against his shoulder, letting the sun hit your chest and shoulders, spreading a warmth over you. You were pressed up against his chest while your arms hung losely behind you around his neck. He placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer into him as he bent his head into the curve of your neck.

Draco placed peppering kisses along the slide of your ear before speaking.

“In a good mood are we?” he lowly spoke, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

“Always when I’m with you,” you smiled, your eyes closed, enjoying his embrace. Words weren’t needed for a moment like this. It was nothing but pure bliss.

You opened your eyes for a split second and caught a glimpse of a couple Slytherin’s across the yard. Instincts instantly kicked in and you lowered your hands before turning around. His hands left your waist and he stared at you confused.

“Why did you-”

“There’s people around,” you spoke shyly, looking down at your feet for a moment because it made you feel like you were in trouble. He tsked and lifted his hand to pull your chin up to look at him.

“And what about them? Are they bothing you?”

Your eyesbrows raised in shock.

“N-No, I just-”

He chuckled. “Embarrassed of me now?”

You could hear the sarcasm lacing his voice. He found this comical as if there was nothing wrong with the situation. He hated others seeing you two in public like this, especially being affectionate.

In the beginning of your relationship, the two of you admitted that there were feelings there, however Draco informed you that he still had a reputation to uphold. He didn’t want there to be any hard feelings when the two of you were out in public. Hesitantly, you agreed not knowing what the future held.

You shook your head and turned to the left to glimpse at the Slytherin’s once more. The were definitely looking at the two of you, but it felt.. nice? in an odd way? 

“Never, you just.. you hated people to see us together so I just assumed that-”

He pressed his index finger around your lips silencing you. A playfull smirked tugged on the corner of his lips while he leaned down so that his face was merely inches away from yours. 

“Let’s give them something to look at baby.”

“I.. I don’t think I can do this,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Do what.”

His voice came out harsher than he had intended, but he was apprehensive about what you were going to say. Had he done something? He was racking his brain trying to figure out the answer. You two were asleep just seconds ago.

“I need to go,” you dismissed waving your hand in the air and turned away from his touch. His arm slid away from your shoulders as you stood up, looking for your slippers in the dark room.

Draco rubbed his hand over his tired face, letting out a tired moan.

You frantically felt around for your wand on the table next to the bed.

“Lumos,” you casted as a faint light grew on the tip of your wand. Your slippers were burried a little far under the bed. Getting on your knees, you reached for them to put them on.

“Y/N, what’s going on with you,” Draco mumbled, still hazy from being woken up so suddenly. His platinum blonde hair was messy on top of his head with different locks fanning over his forehead. His eyes struggled to remain open whilst his cheeks felt the cold still of the air.

“I just need to go,” you repeated.

“Go where, enough of this nonsense and come back to bed,” he mumbled with a hint of annoyance in his voice. You put your wand away and ignored him, heading towards the door.

“Y/N,” he called again. You swung the door open and stepped through, heading back to your Y/H room. 

Draco rolled his eyes and slumped back down onto his bed. Whatever it was that was bothering you will eventually come to light. A part of you wanted him to come chasing after you, but you knew that his ego would get in the way of that.

Why were you leaving?

You wanted to feel cared for. And not just when you two are alone, but in public as well. It’s hard enough dating the Draco you loved only in your dreams, just to back to reality and date the Draco who tries to please everybody else. 

Yes, you understood that that is what you initally agreed to at the beginning, however you didn’t know what exactly it was you were getting yourself into. Finally being able to take off the rose-colored glasses allowed for you to start seeing things for the way they actually were.

When was the last time he, himself, had asked you on a date.

When was the last time he made an effort to make you feel like his one and only.

When was the last time he gave you self-assurance in this relationship.

He cares too much about his status to let even a glimmer of affection show. You didn’t understand why he could have such a loving and playful personality interior, but have a hard and cold exterior. If he truly wanted to be with you, then he will find it in his heart to have a real conversation with you; however until then you thought it would be best to distance yourself.

The next day, you hadn’t seen Draco anywehere. Maybe he slept in or just flat out hadn’t though about going to see you. This wasn’t anything out of the ordinary considering he would ignore you on a daily basis anyways. You weren’t going to go out of your way to try and see him, but you knew the feelings weren’t going to be reciprocated. 

“Y/N, are you listening to me?” Gina groaned, hitting you with her homework papers. 

She was your best friend and one of the only people who new you had a relationship with Draco. She didn’t care too much for him, but supported you because of how deeply in love you were. Or thought you were, to say the least.

The two of you sat at the Viaduct Courtyard, catching up on school work and chatting it up like most friends do.

“Huh? Oh, sorry, what were you saying?”

Her lips formed into a line as she stared at you. She squinted her eyes and folded her arms across her chest.

“What’d he do now,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes.

You sat up straight, shaking your head. Opening your mouth to speak, she squickly spoke.

“And don’t say it’s nothing, because I know you like the back of my hand.” She stared at you like you were hiding something because you didn’t have a response to what she said. 

She pretty much knew your relationship, but you never spilled too much because you knew any problems to arise between you and Draco would only result in her hating him even more than she already does. So you kept nearly all of it to yourself except for most of the good things. 

He had to win brownie points some way.

“It’s nothing major, I just haven’t seen him all day is all,” you murmured, “I just miss him.” You weren’t exactly lying. You hadn’t seen him, but that wasn’t what was on your mind.

“Oh good thing that he’s heading your way right now then, hmm,” she eyed, raising her eyebrow. She could tell something was off, but she wasn’t going to press.

Your heart spiked and you quickly whipped your head around. She was right, Draco had been heading your way, as a matter of fact, but he didn’t look to happy. His cold demeaner protruded with each step he took, warding off anyone that tried to address him.

“I’ll leave you to it, and by the way,” she said, lowering her voice, “I know there’s more to the story that you better tell me later or I’m kicking his ass. Toodles!”

And with that she gathered her things and walked away. 

Seconds later, leather boots approached you. You didn’t dare look up, afraid of the confrontation that was inevitably going to happen. There was an awkward tension between the two of you. He knows that you knew he was there and vice versa. He was being awfully quiet which made you uncomfortable considering he was such a dominant person.

“Are you just going to sit there or are you going to tell me what the hell happened yesterday,” he snapped.

Taken back by his immediate aggression, you reluctantly stood up on your feet. He was clearly annoyed that you hadn’t gone to him throughout the day like you normally would. It fed his god-complexed ego and you weren’t having it.

He didn’t have to talk to you that way.  A simple ‘what’s wrong baby’ or ‘i’m sorry for whatever it is, lets get ice cream’ would surfice.

“Just leave me alone, Draco,” you mumbled, getting ready to walk away before he grabbed onto your arm to hold you in place. His jaw tightened and he was getting visibly upset. He didn’t know what he did wrong, but it doesn’t take a brainiac to understand it.

Instead of responding, he dragged you along with him out of the courtyard and through the corridors of Hogwarts before going down to the dungeons. He pulled you into the Slytherin common room and shooed everyone who was lounging around out. This left just the two of you.

“Y/N, I don’t know what’s going on with you,” he muttered, pinching the brige of his nose, “And none of this is helping because you won’t talk to me for whatever reason!”

You folded your arms across your chest, looking to the side. You looked anywhere but his face. It was intimidating you.

“Do you care about me?” you whispered, your voice fragile.

His brows furrowed and shook his head, clearly annoyed. “What kind of question is that-”

“-Just answer the question, Draco,” you rushed.

“Of course, I do!” he shouted. You flicked your pupils to his this time. His never left yours, in fact, he had a hard stare on you, almost like he was trying to read your mind.

“Then why don’t you act like it!” you shouted back in reflex. He stood at your toes, towering over you. This time he was waiting for you to finish, almost taken back by you matching his energy. You’ve never shouted at him like the way you did.

“You wouldn’t understand what’s it’s like to be in my shoes, constantly getting judged for everything single thing I do,” he glared. He was putting his walls up, you could sense it. Soon he was going to become rock hard and nothing was going to get through to him.

“I may not understand what that’s like, but I can sympathize,” you rushed, before he scoffed, slightly opening the side of his mouth to lick the inside of his cheek.

“I don’t need your sympathy or pity,” he spat. 

“Then why do you want to be with me! You’re embarrassed to be seen with me. You won’t let me simply be in the same space as you..” you spoke, losing volume with each word rolling off your tongue. “I feel like a ragdoll.”

“Y/N, we’ve been over this. My rep-

“Your reputation, I know,” you scoffed, folding your arms over your chest this time. His eyes darted back and forth between yours, eagerly waiting for you to say something else. “You don’t care about anybody else’s feelings except for yourself and that makes you a selfish prick!”

For once, he was at a loss of words.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, us,” you said, immediately regretting it when you saw his eyes soften at your confession, but you continued, “I deserve better. I deserve someone who isn’t going to be ashamed of me just because of what others anticipate and you deserve someone who is going to be able to fulfill your status.”

He took a stride closer to you and held onto the side of your arms. He was hurting on the inside. “Y/N, you don’t mean that. You know I love you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to look anywhere but his face. Taking a shaky breath, you nodded your head and finally looked him straight in his eyes. His were glossy, and his cheeks were turning a light shade of pink but you knew he wasn’t going to shed a tear. Not when anyone could walk in at any given moment.

“I do mean it,” you frowned, shaking his touch off of you, “Until you can prove to me that I genuinly matter to you, then this..- we are over.”

With the last bit of pride held in your spine, you turned on your heel and left him standing there. You were going to put yourself first and if that meant letting him go, then so be it. Any second longer and you would’ve felt yourself crumble at his feet.

It’s hard to love someone, but it’s even harder to let them go.

[firstofficerwiggles]

Chapter 2: Adventures in Space Babysitting

Link to Chpt. 1, Chpt. 3

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild swearing, sexual arousal, references to sexual relationships, canonical violence

Word Count:~5600

Summary: Caretaker reader is settling into her job and she realizes she has a crush on Mando. Some fluff, action, and little angst in this chapter.

Author’s Note: Welcome to Chpt. 2! I haven’t really written anything with angst before so I hope you think that part went okay. Thanks for reading!

The little green body launches itself up onto your bed yet again waking you in the early hours of the morning. The child snuggles up close to your chest and you can’t help but rub his little back with soothing motions. You have tried to get the child on a routine these past few weeks, and this seems to be the one pattern he’s most pleased to follow every day. The first time he showed up in your bed you thought Mando had placed him there as a subtle hint that it was your turn to be on child duty. However, when you heard Mando frantically looking for the toddler that first morning, you knew the little one had managed to sneak his way over to you all on his own. Neither you nor Mando know much about the child’s life before Mando rescued him, but it seems to you that it must have been difficult, because he appears to be starved for affection and he seeks it out every chance he gets. You’ve always been a cuddler yourself though so you are happy to oblige him and honestly although it means you don’t get to sleep as much as you used to, you love your early morning snuggles with him. Besides, it helps keep your mind off how much you’d like to snuggle Mando.

This silly crush on Mando has hit you out of nowhere and you feel like a complete fool for even acknowledging it. You suppose it can’t be helped to a certain extent, as he has to be hands down the nicest man in the entire galaxy, implausible as it may seem. He’s a gun-for-hire, rough and tough bounty hunter, covered in armor and weapons, and yet he has been nothing but thoughtful and respectful towards you. When you first spoke to him about establishing a better schedule for the child and working on some developmental milestones, he listened carefully and encouraged you to do what you felt was best. Other men you’ve known in the past would have questioned your recommendations or only half-listened to you dismissively. But Mando asked thoughtful questions that showed you he valued your opinions and then he was sure to comment on how well things were going after you began implementing the changes. You couldn’t remember the last time an employer gave you a compliment on your work, and it was just nice.

Then there was the first time he brought back a bounty to the ship. He’d been gone for about two days and when he returned, he was dragging a large alien man behind him. While you tried not to be overly curious, you couldn’t help but watch him as he manhandled the guy into the carbonite freezer. You were impressed with his strength, but it also made you feel a little bit wary as he next strode over towards you and the child. Your cautiousness melted away quickly though as Mando placed a bag of berries on the crate sitting next to you, mentioning that he noticed how much you seemed to enjoy them and thought you’d like to have some more. The thought of him noticing such a detail and then taking the time to stop and buy the berries for you made you want to swoon. You told yourself you were being ridiculous and that it was clearly just an overreaction to someone finally being nice to you.

The child is starting to get squirmy and you know that means he’ll be looking for breakfast soon. You listen carefully for Mando and realize that he must either be still asleep or up in the cockpit. Either way, you doubt he’s eaten any breakfast yet as he seems to prefer your cooking over his own. You toss back your covers and get yourself ready for the day. You decide to make eggs this morning, the little one’s favorite food that isn’t sugar-based. You are just finishing cutting up some fruit to go with the eggs, when you hear Mando’s boots behind you.

“MMM, smells good.” He says sounding still a bit sleepy. “I’m starving.”

You turn around with a plate all ready for him and a cup of caf, telling him “Lucky for you, I knew you would be.”

“Thank you, I don’t know how I survived without you,” Mando replies. Your heart sings at his words and you quickly turn back to the food so he can’t see the goofy smile breaking out on your face.

“Mostly on ration bars it seems.” You noticed he had quite the stash of them when you were first on board. Fortunately, you’ve convinced him to try to get a greater variety of food whenever possible.

“Well, my taste buds thank you too.” He carries his breakfast into his bunk where he can eat in privacy. At first, you felt sad for him always having to eat by himself, but you realize he must be so used to it that it probably doesn’t bother him. Nonetheless, it hasn’t stopped you from thinking up ideas for a shared meal sometime in the future, maybe when he knows you better and his trust in you is stronger.

After breakfast, you’re getting the child ready for a day out on the town. Mando is dropping off several bounties today which means you’ll be able to stretch your legs off the ship and visit the market in Batuu. As the ship lands, Mando is already back in the hull quickly reviewing all of the safety protocols for leaving the ship. He does this each time and at first it was rather annoying, it’s not like you’re an idiot, but then you realized he does it because he simply cares that much about the child’s and your wellbeing. While his protectiveness towards the child is completely logical, you still can’t get over how much it extends to you too. You’ve been responsible for yourself for so long; it never occurred to you that another adult would care so much about protecting you.

“Before I forget, I found a holster for you.” Mando is holding out a leather belt for you. “You shouldn’t keep the blaster in a bag; you can’t get to it fast enough.”

“Oh, thank you.” You say politely, although you’re hoping that just once he’ll fail to remind you to take the blaster along. You know he said you have to take it with you every time you leave the ship, but you still feel uncomfortable carrying it around. At least when you could shove it into your bag, you could pretend you didn’t have it, but now, it’ll be right there on your hip, much harder to ignore. Your fingers fumble with buckling the holster; knowing that he’s watching you intently makes you nervous. Mando steps closer to help you, softly brushing your hands away. Maker, he’s so close to you and each time his hands brush against your waist as he secures the holster you need to remind yourself to breathe.

“There you go.” Mando finishes but lets his hand linger for a moment on your hip. You feel his thumb brush back and forth just a bit before he sharply pulls away as if realizing what he was doing. You slip the blaster into the new holster, and he gives you a nod, “Looks good.”

You feel your face heat up as you realize he’s staring at your hips and you distract yourself by making sure the child is ready to go, “Ready to explore?” you ask him, and you hear a happy coo in response from the pram.

You follow Mando down the ramp of the ship, glad to be out in the fresh air and sunshine. Shopping for supplies never seemed like anything interesting in the past, but now that you get to visit different markets on new worlds you’ve never seen before, each little shopping trip feels like a new experience. The colorful stalls filled with all types of wares beckon you to explore and discover some exotic fruit or an old book that you might never see anywhere else.

Oh, speaking of books, “I thought I might try to find a few children’s books for the child, if that’s ok?” you ask Mando.

“Are you trying to teach him to read? Is he ready for that?” Mando sounds curious, but not skeptical in any way.

“No, not yet, but I know he likes hearing stories,” you explain, “and I’m not sure how much more I can keep inventing ones to tell him.”

“Have you just been making those stories up yourself?” He nods in approval, seemingly impressed. “You have a good imagination.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” You’re caught off guard there for a moment, as you hadn’t realized he’d paid much attention to the stories you tell the little one.

“Yeah, I liked the one you told him about the magic frog. It was funny.” He surprises you again. Not only was he listening, he remembers the silly story you made up, and he liked it.

“Thanks,” you say again, stunned by his comment, but it’s his next suggestion that totally floors you.

“You should write them down, make your own book.”

“Make my own book?” The idea would never have occurred to you.

“Why not? Maybe you can even get the kid to draw pictures for it. You can get him some coloring pencils too.” Mando turns and hands you some extra credits. “I need to take care of some business, now, but you two will be safe here. Meet me by the fountain in 30 minutes. Do not be late.” He punctuates that last statement with a point of his index finger and then turns to go.

You watch him head towards a cantina and then just stare down at the credits in your palm. How is he so nice but then also kind of scary? And why does it make you ‘feel’ things? You shake your head at your own silliness and then look down at the little guy and say, “Well, let’s go find you something to color with.”

Perusing the stalls, you find plenty of items to fill up your bags and empty your wallet. You discover a great notebook with plenty of space for writing and pictures. The more you think of the idea of creating your own little book with the child, the more excited you get. You find a few children’s books too, so that you can be sure to keep the little one entertained when he’s tired of drawing. Cognizant of the time, you start to head to the fountain in the center of the market, Mando’s designated meeting spot, when you smell a delectable aroma. The baby smells it too and immediately begins whining and reaching out his little hands. You head to the source of the scent to see several types of kebabs at a nearby stand. You still have some credits and are preparing to order but the little one is too impatient and before you know it, two kebabs are floating to the pram.

“Hey! You have to pay for those!” The man behind the stand yells at you.

“I was; I mean I am,” you quickly tell him, “I’m sorry, he’s just so sneaky and fast sometimes.” You offer him a smile, hoping to smooth things over. What’s more, you pray the man thinks the child just grabbed the food and that he didn’t notice anything magical about it. “How much are they?”

The man looks you over for a moment and then his demeanor changes, “Well, for you, mama, I’m sure we can work out a little deal.” He leers at you.

“That’s ok,” you say uncomfortable at the look in his eye, and you let your smile drop from your face, “I’ll just pay the regular price.”

“Ah, c’mon, there’s nothing like a little discount among friends.” He steps out from behind his stall to stand right in front of you. He reaches out and brushes a hand down your arm, “You’d like to be my friend, wouldn’t you?”

You take a step back and say, “I’d just like to pay you for the food.”

“We can call it even, if you give me a little kiss.” This gross creep moves closer to you again, this time leaning down.

“I have credits.” You tell him, attempting to sound firm while you start to step back again, but he anticipates your move and reaches out to grab your wrist pulling you up against his body. You push on his chest, trying to pull away when you hear the sound of a blaster priming and then a raspy modulated voice says, “Let her go.”

The man drops your arm instantly and you can finally back away from him. You’re very grateful to see Mando with his weapon pointed directly at the man’s head. The man holds his hands up, “We were just having a friendly little chat.”

“Didn’t look friendly to me.” Mando deadpans, but he holsters his blaster now that it’s clear you’re safe. He comes over to you, placing a hand on the small of your back and turns you to walk away with him.

“Hey! She still needs to pay me for the food,” the man protests.

“What did he want for the food?” Mando asks you.

“A kiss,” you reply sardonically.

Mando shrugs, then turns back to the stall, approaches the man quickly and then just head-butts him hard with his helmet. The creep lets out a loud yell of pain and collapses to the ground.

“There you go, a kiss from a Mandalorian.” Mando drawls, before turning and striding back over to you.

Oh damn! That was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and you feel your body flood with desire. Ok, so maybe that was a blatant show of male posturing, and as an educated, modern woman, you probably shouldn’t be so aroused right now. But some primeval part of your brain has taken over, and the only thought you have is how great a protector Mando is and how much you want him to protect you. You can’t even say anything to him right now because you’re just replaying the moment over in your head. It isn’t until you realize that Mando is saying your name, repeating it, that you finally snap back to reality and remember to thank him.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Mando is saying, “Are you ok?” He asks you slowly to make sure you’ve understood him. It’s possible he’s already asked you that but you were too swept up in your cavewoman thoughts.

“Oh, yes, yes, I’m fine,” you reassure him, “That creep just made me uncomfortable, but he didn’t hurt me. But, thank you again.”

“You’re sure?” Mando asks, a bit doubtful. What are you supposed to tell him? That your dazed look is because you’re turned on by him right now. Super inappropriate, having a major crush on your boss! You take a deep breath and remind yourself yet again that Mando is your employer.

“Really, I’m fine, thank you.” You’re pleased that you managed to get that out in a normal sounding voice. Mando considers you for a moment.

“Why didn’t you pull your blaster on him?” He wants to know.

“I don’t know,” you tell him truthfully, “I guess I’m just not used to reacting that way.”

“Hmm, we’ll need to work on that.” He seems satisfied at that and starts walking back towards the Crest. You force your feet to follow him, telling yourself to pull it together.

“Is that really considered a kiss from a Mandalorian?” You can’t help your stupid mouth from blurting out your question.

He laughs, surprising you because it’s the first time you’ve heard it. “Technically, yes, we call it a Keldabe Kiss.” He chuckles again and then says, “But there is a much softer version too between lovers.”

Ok, you almost become a puddle hearing him say the word ‘lovers’, and thankfully he’s still amused by your question that he doesn’t seem to notice your mouth dropping open and your feet stumbling a little. Instead, all he says is “Let’s get back to the ship, kid’s got the right idea, I could use something to eat.”

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

Later, Mando powers up the engines and you figure you’re off to the next planet, but instead he keeps the ship in the atmosphere, taking you away from the town. He lands in a clearing near a forest, and says, “This will be a good spot to practice.”

“Practice?” You’re confused.

“Yeah, I told you we’re going to work on your reaction to threats.” He says this in a matter-of-fact voice, “Plus, I know you said you could shoot, but I want to see how you handle that blaster.”

Sighing internally, you put the holster back on and collect the blaster from the weapons locker before following him down the ramp. The baby toddles down the ramp too, curious to see what’s happening.

“Alright, Miss Top-Marks-in-Shooting, let’s see you hit that tree.” Mando’s tone is rather chipper as he points out a large tree directly across from where you’re both standing. It’s a very easy target; he must think you exaggerated your skills.

You draw the weapon smoothly and shoot, just as you were trained to do, hitting the tree with ease. You fire four shoots in a small cluster pattern, to show that you are capable of accuracy.

Mando nods his head once, “Ok, now hit those five trees in rapid succession.” He points to a line of smaller trees further away to your left. You turn and successfully hit all five in what you consider to be a decent pace.

“Not bad, but see if you can go faster.” He instructs you. You try again, hopefully quicker this time. He nods when you look back at him and then points out a new target. You both keep repeating this pattern and he offers some critiques as you shoot, but generally, he seems satisfied.

“You did well,” Mando tells you after a bit, “You ever hit a moving target?”

“Uh, no.” You look at him cautiously, wondering what he has in mind. Your eyes must show how anxious that makes you, because he says, “We’ll work on that another time.”

You can’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. You figure practice time must be over for now, but then he says, “Let’s work on that reaction time for when someone is in your face. Just let me tell the kid first.”

Mando walks over to the little one who has been sitting on the ramp watching you shoot. “Ok, kiddo, this is just pretend. You understand? No one will get hurt, so no powers, ok?” The baby coos up at him and Mando nods.

“Gotta make sure he doesn’t try to fling one of us into a tree.” He says to your bemused expression. Mando returns to face you and steps close until he’s practically touching you. Your heartrate immediately picks up and your body starts to feel hot.

“I want you to draw your weapon on me, but do not shoot me,” he says definitively.

“What? No, I can’t do that, Mando,” you tell him in protest.

He reaches out lightning fast, grabs your wrist, and hauls you up against him in a similar manner to the jerk in the marketplace. Your positioning might be the same, yet this time you don’t feel creeped out, no, instead you like it, your traitorous body even pushes you a little closer to him.

“Draw your weapon on me. I’m a threat to you.” Mando tells you in a gravelly voice. Stars above! You have to bite your lip hard to keep from moaning. What is wrong with me? You realize he’s not going to let you go until you draw the blaster and so you finally comply with his order.

Mando releases you with small chuckle, as he says, “Ok, let’s try that again only not in slow motion.”

“Wait, wait, I’m not ready.” You’re panting like you just ran a race.

“That’s the whole point,” he replies, “Threats don’t just wait until you’re ready to shoot them.” You could swear he’s smirking at you under that helmet.

“No, I mean, give me a second to imagine I’m being threatened,” you are trying to buy yourself time before he decides to touch you again. “I need to visualize it.”

“Are you saying I’m not threatening enough?” Mando sounds skeptical and maybe a little insulted.

“No, I mean, of course, you are, you’re very threatening and wanted men everywhere should fear you, but I don’t fear you because I know you’ll never hurt me,” you explain to him in attempt to cover up the fact that you’re so damn attracted to him right now.

“You’re right; I would never do anything to hurt you.” He nods in agreement. “But wanted men everywhere should fear me, huh?” He sounds amused by that.

“Yes, yes, you’re very scary.” You tell him, rolling your eyes slightly.

“Ok, so pretend I’m someone you do fear.” He advances toward you. This time you think of Lieutenant Sauckel, an odious man from Imperial Intelligence that you despised. When Mando grabs you again, you imagine Sauckel’s black eyes and yellow teeth and draw your blaster as Mando pulls you to his chest.

“That was better, but still too slow.” He makes you try over and over, and each time you picture another terrible Imperial officer, Commander Brack, Major Frick, Junior Lieutenant Hess, and then finally Ensign Kerrick Hoven, the man who broke your heart and betrayed you. Imagining Kerrick’s smug face appears to do the trick, because it’s the fastest you’ve drawn the blaster yet, and you manage to wrench your arm away from Mando for the first time.

“Good!” Mando praises you enthusiastically, “That was really good.”

“Thanks.” You’re pleased to hear his words of encouragement, but your voice doesn’t show it. Picturing Kerrick again is enough to send you into darker emotions and you feel anger and sadness swirl in your stomach. Your face must give away your unhappy thoughts, because Mando suggests you stop for the day.

You stow your blaster in the holster and then head over to the child who’s been thoroughly entertained watching you both pretend fight. You reach down to pick him up and hold him close to your chest in a hug. There’s just something about his sweet little presence that makes you feel better. You’re smiling again when you pull away and head back into the ship. Mando follows you up the ramp and he’s quiet but you can feel him watching you as you stow the blaster in the weapons locker and remove the holster from your waist.

“Everything alright?” He asks you.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I-, Thank you for taking the time to work with me on that. To practice, I mean. I know you’re very busy.” It really does mean a lot to you that he took time out of his schedule for you and you feel your heart swell as you think about his protective nature.

“You’re welcome,” he says, his voice a little softer, “Your safety is important to me. Plus, you need to be able to help keep the child safe too.”

“Yes, of course,” you nod in agreement.

“It’s helpful that you’re a good shot.” He praises you again, and this time you smile at his words.

“Thank you,” you reply sincerely. While you haven’t seen him shoot, you know he’s clearly an expert and it really does mean a lot to hear him praise your skill.

You turn back to the child, “I think it’s playtime now, what do you say, buddy?” He chirps in agreement and you head over to his small stash of toys and place him on the floor so he can start pulling out his favorites. Before you clamber down to join him, you feel Mando’s hand cup your arm just above the elbow. You turn back towards him with an inquisitive look. He just seems to stare at you for a moment, still holding your arm before telling you, “I’ll going to get us on our way to the next planet.”

“Ok, we’ll be alright down here. I’ll bring you up some dinner later.” You give him another smile and a quick nod.

“Good,” is all that he says and then he gives your arm a little squeeze before heading to the cockpit and you can’t help but feel a little fluttering in your stomach at that touch.

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

The rest of your afternoon passes swiftly as you and the child take his plushies on a heroic quest across the metal wonderland (the hull) to the black cliffs of mystery (a stack of crates) where you must find the golden treasure (a box of cookies). It’s a much more enjoyable game of pretend seeing as you’re not imagining Imps threatening you. It puts you in a cheerful mood and you’re still grinning to yourself when you bring Mando his dinner tray. You feel a pang of regret for him that he’s missed out on the fun afternoon with you and the child and it’s compounded by the thought of him eating his dinner alone too.

“Mando?”

“Yeah?”

You want to ask if there’s any way you could keep him company while he eats, promising to face away from him the entire time, but it feels too pushy to ask him for that. Besides, you’re probably just projecting your own feelings onto him. He’s likely much more comfortable knowing that you and the child are safely shut away from him downstairs and there’s no way he can break his creed while he eats. So, you just tell him, “I hope you enjoy your food.”

When you head back downstairs, you’re mentally kicking yourself for getting too attached. Your job is to take care of the child and make sure his needs are met. It’s nice of you to take care of Mando a little too, but he doesn’t need you to keep him company or worry about him being lonely. I’m being pathetic. You turn your attention back to your little green charge and decide it’s time to give him a bath and get him ready for bed. Still though as much as you try, you can’t stop your thoughts from wondering back to Mando. It’s hard to forget what it felt like pulled up against his chest while you were practicing your self-defense. And you may have replayed the whole head-butt scene in your head a dozen times. Stars! Am I really so desperate that I’m falling for the first man who’s nice to me? You try again to push images of Mando out of your head and focus on the baby. It works until he’s sound asleep in his little hammock and you don’t have a distraction any more. Maybe you can just grab your holopad and read up in the cockpit. That way you can satisfy your need to be close to Mando but also keep from bothering him. You make your way up the ladder, making sure it’s ok to enter the cockpit in case he still has the helmet off, before flopping down in the passenger seat on Mando’s right. You sit there and fiddle with the holopad trying to find a story that will entice you enough to keep your eyes on it, instead of tossing glances at the armored man sitting next to you. Turns out it doesn’t matter though because Mando feels like chatting.

“Kid get to sleep ok?” he asks you.

“Yes, he was pretty sleepy after his bath,” you reply.

“Probably tired after that epic adventure you went on too,” he huffs out a laugh, “I heard you doing all the voices for the toys.”

“Oh, yeah,” you’re a little embarrassed by that as you know you can be pretty goofy when you’re pretending with the child, “He really seems to like it though.”

“Sure he does, I could hear him giggling too.” Mando confirms for you. “I’m glad he’s having this time to be a child. I don’t know much about his past, but I don’t think he’s had a lot of fun in his life.”

“Well, I’ll try to make sure he does something fun every day.” You already love the little one so much, anything you can do to make him happy brings you joy too.

“Who were you picturing when we were practicing your reaction time?” Mando changes the subject abruptly.

You take a moment to process his question, and then tell him, “Just some Imperial officers from my past.” You shrug, “I figured that would be good motivation to draw a blaster.”

He seems to consider you for a moment, and then asks, “What about the last time? Who was that?”

“Oh,” you try to let out a little laugh to ease the discomfort welling up in you, “That was the man who broke my heart.”

“An Imperial officer?” Mando sounds surprised at that.

“He wasn’t an Imperial officer when I first knew him. He was in the graduating class before mine. We dated when we were in school together and we stayed in contact after he graduated. He’s the one who convinced me to do the exams for the ‘research group’.” You make quotation marks with your hands when you say those last two words.

“He mislead you?” Mando asks.

“No, he didn’t know what it really was then either. He had only just heard about it and was trying to get a job there and convinced me that it would be great for the two of us to work together.” You pause there not sure if you really want to keep telling Mando this story.

He’s curious though, as he asks, “What happened when you both found out you were working for Imp Intelligence?”

“We were both shocked and we turned to each other for comfort. It was intense, because I still had old feelings for him, and at the time, I believed he was the only one who understood how I had been deceived because he was right there with me. For a while, it felt tragically romantic, like we were two people clinging to each other in the midst of a terrible situation.”

“So, how did he break your heart?” Mando questions softly.

“I didn’t realize how one-sided our love affair had become. I thought he shared my horror for the Empire and their actions, but little did I know, he was buying into the Empire’s message more each day. As I was trying to disrupt the intelligence, Kerrick was weaseling his way closer to the officers, trying to spend time with them or impress them with his work. They awarded him the rank of Ensign when he turned me in for sabotage.” You can’t help the tear that manages to sneak out and slide down your cheek. You look out to the stars as they swirl by you in hyperspace.

“What was his name? His full name?” Mando asks.

“Kerrick Hoven, why?”

He ignores the question and asks, “Is he still alive?”

“As far as I know, yes.” You’re not sure why that matters to him.

Mando just makes a little hmm noise and then says, “No wonder you drew your blaster so quickly.”

“Well, that’s my sad story of heartbreak. How about you, Mando? You have a heartbreak story of your own?” Now that you’ve bared your sad past to him, you’re curious to hear about his.

“No.” Is all that he says.

“No? Nothing?” You push back a little; he must have something to share.

“Not really. Never get too attached or involved with a woman.” He punctuates this with a shrug.

“What about when you were a bit younger? No love affairs?” You can’t stop yourself from being curious about his romantic past; you just want to know a little something about it.

“I’ve had lovers, but nothing long-term or serious.” he states, “Relationships don’t really go with being a bounty hunter.” He sounds rather blasé about his love life or lack of one, as if he doesn’t spend any time thinking about it at all.

You feel your heart drop at that and all of your fantasies about the two of you being together someday seem exceedingly ridiculous right now. Of course he isn’t a man who gets into relationships, and if you became his lover, it would probably be a short-lived fling that would burn itself out once the novelty of new passion was gone. You feel foolish and tired. The fun of hearing about Mando’s love life has dissipated completely for you. So you change the topic and ask, “Where are we headed to next?”

“Bespin” Mando says. “It’s a mining planet with a city high up in the clouds in the upper atmosphere.”

You listen politely as he tells you some other facts about the planet. It sounds interesting enough, but you’re not really paying that close attention as you’re still somewhat wrapped up in your emotional reaction to his dismissal of relationships. You take a deep breath to center your thoughts and then focus in on his words, telling yourself that this is for the best, that you need to let your stupid crush die and just do your job. If you can’t do that, you’ll just set yourself up for another heartbreak, and what will that get you?

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

Thank you for reading! Link to Chapter 3, Lust Actually. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters.

Tag list: @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11​ @theravenreads​ @nicotinebirds​ @boomtownboy​ @nova646 @sleepwithacommunist @mackycat11 @som3thingcr3ative

[holylulusworld]

I still cry

Summary: A break-up sometimes leads to worse things than heartbreak.

Pairing: former Dean x Reader; Dean x Lisa

Characters: Bobby Singer, OFC Judith, Sam Winchester

Warnings: angst, heartbreak, a break-up, abandonment, low self-esteem, tears, mentions of demons, a little Lisa hate (sorry), no happy ending, sorry, not sorry

A/N: Written for @katehuntington​​​‘s 1K Celebration (Congratulations!). My song was ‘I still cry’ by Ilse DeLange. I used the song for inspiration and some of the lyrics (in Italics). The song originally is for a passed loves-one, but I decided to use it to describe the heartbreak and pain the reader feels after she got left behind.

A/N2: For my story, Sam came back with an intact soul.

Three months after he left, … 

“How was your weekend, Y/N?” your colleague asks, watching you fold another paper flower for the upcoming school festival. 

You like to keep your hands busy to stop thinking about the love you lost. All the flowers you tried to grow in the backyard died. It’s like no one wants to stay with or stay alive around you.

“Fine,” you reply, eyes dropping to your phone once again. Since he left the night Sam jumped into the pit you always hoped Dean will answer one of your calls or at least send you a message, explaining why you weren’t enough. “I tried to renovate my bedroom.”

“That’s nice,” you hate the pity in your much younger colleague’s eyes. It’s the same look people give you any time their eyes land on you – or at least you think they can see the heartbreak you went through over the last months. “If you need help, just tell us so, Y/N. You are new to the team, but we like you.”

“I will think about it, Judith. Thank you,” how you hate that you sound like a broken record. 

I’m fine. No, I don’t need your help. Please don’t ask about Dean. Hunting is over for me. Just don’t ask…

I still cry sometimes when I remember you

I still cry sometimes when I hear your name

I said goodbye and I know you're alright now

But when the leaves start falling down I still cry

Six months after he left, … 

“Kiddo, I’ve missed you,” Bobby chuckles, standing in front of your door. “Did you think you can just push me away and an old geezer like me gives up that easily?”

You huff but for a moment, you smile. “I’ve missed you too, Bobby,” you throw yourself into your friends’ arms. Ashamed you didn’t call him back you sniff silently. “I’m sorry, I just needed some time to figure things out.”

“So, you’re out of business?” watching you shake your head Bobby sighs deeply. He wishes you would’ve stayed out of the hunting business and find happiness and a nice man staying by your side. “I thought you wanted out.”

“I was – for a while at least,” choking out the words you grasp Bobby’s hand to lead him into your house. “Problem is that the monsters and demons didn’t get the memo. One day I prepare a school festival and the next I find myself surrounded by demons. I had no choice but to leave.”

“I’m sorry, kiddo,” Bobby takes the beer you offer, grumbling as he would’ve like to see you fall in love and become a mother one day. “Did he call?”

“Please don’t ask,” you plea, not meeting Bobby’s gaze. You’re too ashamed you still hope Dean will return to you. Even though, you know better. 

“Y/N,” Bobby sighs deeply, eyes sadden at the mere sight of you. Thinner than usual, eyes missing the light you sit in front of your godfather. “I shouldn’t have asked, kiddo.”

“I don’t want to sound pathetic but talking about him makes things worse. I had hoped he would explain why,” sitting on the worn-out couch in your living room you slump into yourself. “I guess that I never was enough. You know, she’s a pretty thing, has a house, a son, and a normal life to offer. And I heard yoga-instructors are bendable.”

“Did you see her – them?” you nod, eyes not meeting Bobby’s. “Oh, Y/N,” my friend, the father I never had sniffs. “Why didn’t you tell him not to go? I know you wanted Dean to have a normal life but hurting yourself shouldn’t be part of the deal.”

“I knew only one of us will make it out alive, Bobby,” you give your friend a sad smile, shrugging when he gets up to look out of the window. “I wanted Dean to be happy. If he’s happy with someone else, I’m happy for him.”

“Your selflessness borders on stupidity!” Bobby grunts. “That boy should be here, with you Y/N. Lisa seems to be a nice girl, but she’s not you.”

“EXACTLY, Bobby,” jumping up you try to explain to Bobby why you knew Dean would leave you sooner or later. “I knew Dean will leave me, Bobby. I wanted to keep a tiny piece of dignity. In the end, he would’ve kept his promise to Sam and get out of this life, but not with me by his side.”

“How’d you know, kiddo? Maybe Dean would’ve stayed by your side and you could be happy,” your friend cries. “Jesus, I can’t believe you broke your own heart.”

“I did it to protect myself, Bobby. I heard Dean call her, okay,” sniffing you join Bobby to look out of the window. “The night after Sam jumped into the pit, Dean called Lisa asking if he can come around.”

“OH,” eyes squinting toward the old car in your ramp Bobby tries to figure out how to help you. “What happened that night? Dean refused to answer my calls so…”

“It’s a blur, Bobby,” you close your eyes, try to recall the night Dean left but all you remember are the tears running down your face when you ran after his car. The rain washing your tears away – but not the pain.

It's just that I recall September

It's just that I still hear your song

It's just I can't seem to remember

Forever more those days are gone

“Dean didn’t fight for me, that’s what happened. I told him that I heard every word and he just stood there, his keys in his hand. I saw a hint of guilt in his eyes, but this wasn’t enough to stay with me,” blinking the tears away you clutch your hand to your chest. “I told Dean to go and live the life Sam wanted him to live.”

“And he did? Just like that?” nodding you turn your back toward the window, closing your eyes for a moment. “Not even a call for almost six months?”

“No call. No message. No number he sent me in case of emergency,” it’s a matter-of-fact Dean cut you out of his life. “You know, sometimes it feels normal that he’s not with me anymore and other days, I only need to remember his name and break down, crying like a stupid baby.”

“Heartbreak is never easy, kiddo.”

“Never said so, Bobby. Honestly, it feels worse than heartbreak. I know he’s out there, living his best life but to me, it feels like he died. I guess, my heart tries to cope with the loss this way. It tells me he’s gone, even though, Dean is with her.”

“Do you like to live here?” Bobby clears his throat, wrapping one arm around your shoulders. “You can always come with me, leave this shitty town behind and be my eyes and ears. Y/N, I don’t want you to be gone one day too. I’m too old to lose my kids.”

“I could come with you,” being alone with a broken heart and your self-doubts won’t do any good. “I don’t have much to pack.”

“I got a nice guest room, kiddo. If Dean doesn’t care about you, I do,” the bitterness behind Bobby’s words brings you to tears. “I thought I know the boy better…”

I still cry sometimes when I remember you

I still cry sometimes when I hear your name

I said goodbye and I know you're alright now

But when the leaves start falling down I still cry

Almost six months later, …

It’s half a year later that Sam, Dean, and Lisa step into Bobby’s house, bringing fresh tears and more heartbreak to you.

“Sammy,” the only person you greet is Sam, your best friend who magically got resurrected. “I didn’t want to believe the rumors.”

“Same,” arms wrapped tightly around you Sam watches his brother look at you. Dean tried to make you talk to him for half a day, but you just walked away, refusing to even face the man breaking your heart so easily. “I thought he would stay with you.”

“No, Sammy. Why would a man stay with someone like me if he can have yoga barbie?” you whisper, not wanting Lisa to hear. “He deserves someone who got no clue where he’s coming from and all the shit happening in his life.”

“Still-“ Bobby is the one breaking the awkward moment.

“We got a job to do, kiddo. If you want to, you can sit this one out,” nodding you look up at Sam, giving him a sad smile. 

“I will help Rufus meanwhile. You can call me when he’s gone back to his apple pie life, Bobby,” patting Sam’s chest you give your friend a soft smile. “And you’ll have a lot to explain, Mr. Winchester. I hope you will stick around so we can catch up with our shitty lives.”

You are gone before Dean gets the chance to say a word to you. He walks out of Bobby’s house to watch you drive away.

His eyes fill with tears and even when your car is long gone, leaving a cloud of dust behind, he stands outside, wondering how his life would’ve been with you by his side…

I still cry sometimes when I remember you

I still cry sometimes when I hear your name

I said goodbye and I know you're alright now

But when the leaves start falling down I still cry

But when the leaves start falling down I still cry

>> Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[the-silentium]

A story of being idiots

Masterlist - A story of shirts - A story of having each others back

Pairing: Hunter x Reader, Bad Batch x Reader

Words: 1579 words

Warnings: Fluff for once. Hot kissing.

A/N: I think we’ve had enough of angst for this week. Here’s a lil’ piece of fluff until the world come crashing down :) (No, this chap is not because I didn’t have time to write much because my brother bought me the Halo:Master Chief Collection game. Totally not for that.)

Taglist: @haloangel391 @clone-rambles

"One of you will get hurt at some point." 

Tech's grumble did little to nothing to stop you and Wrecker from wrestling. The difference of strength was irrelevant here, you didn't care for the copious amount of time he easily pushed you to the ground. What you did care about was that none of you managed to throw the other down the ramp yet. 

The game was simple. The one to tumble down the flight of stairs lose. 

Now, Wrecker thought it was an easy win. Just like Crosshair and Tech did. But you had an advantage. You were a stubborn son of a bitch that liked to win against her loud bubbly brother. Plus, Hunter wasn't there yet to put an end to your game. 

You loved your brother. But as everyone knows, love hurts. And he'd be the one flying down the stairs on his ass. 

You fought against his arms trying to get a hold of yours to keep you from grabbing the door frame again. With a knee to the stomach, you kept your arms free. You almost win with your signature kick behind the knee and a push forward, but Hunter definitely chose this moment to make his way up the ramp and put an end to your fun. 

"What the hell is going on here?" 

You abruptly stopped your movement to push the big guy out of the ship, the idea of getting Hunter down the stairs with his brother wasn't one to entertain. You'd be in so much trouble that even your imploring eyes, pouty lips, and apologetic kisses would not be enough to help. 

"Just some harmless sibling bonding, that's all." You replied with your best innocent smile. You hoped he hadn't noticed the crates Wrecker and you were supposed to load into the ship instead of messing around. 

"I said no hitting your teammates." He crossed his arms over his chest, moving his unappreciative gaze from yours to Wrecker's. 

"But it's no hitting. It's just pushing." You countered as Wrecker got up from his position on the floor. 

It was a lie. You clearly hit Wrecker a couple of times, simply because you knew that your fists couldn't hurt him in the slightest. You'd never be able to bruise his skin so why would the rule apply to you? Oh right. Wrecker loved to follow the law of retaliation. 

"Game's over." He lifted his finger to point at the two of you. "No more pushing around like kids." 

Wrecker diligently obeyed like the good soldier he was deep down and walked away to find a new occupation, but you weren't. 

Hunter's eyes reduced to slits when you rolled your eyes, fingers twitching around the bag loop in his hand. You knew he hated your eye rolls at his expense, the harsh kisses and lip biting that usually followed were enough of an indication. You loved the intense make out as much as he hated the annoyed movement so he was at a disadvantage. 

He tried denying you the contact of his lips for a while, saying that brats didn't deserve his kisses, to which you answered with an eye roll. His resolution lasted for 2 days only. After 13 eye rolls from your part, he'd had enough. You were clearly doing it more often on purpose and it worked, you got to taste the caf he was previously drinking from the soft skin of his lips, and even got some of the hottest sounds you've heard from him up to this date. 

The bag loop fell from his shoulder so he could not so gently put the bag on the nearest counter and pull you behind him to the cockpit, as far away from the rest of the troopers as possible. 

Crosshair stayed silent while Tech sighed because he knew his cockpit would not be as organized as it was when his big brother was done with you. Just before the door closed behind you, Wrecker cheered at you to get some just before an excited squeal for hot food escaped his mouth. 

"You got food from the village?" You asked excitedly. Finally, a nice meal that wasn't the usual tasteless military rations. 

"Not for brats." He pushed you against the door, arms at each side of your head to effectively trap you. 

His face lowered to yours in a heartbeat, lips clashing in frustration and hunger. You eagerly accepted every ounce of irritation towards you, moaning slightly as his tongue entered your mouth to express his dominance. It was useless to fight him, his sharp senses deciphered every one of your weak spots that he could use at will to make you putty between his fingers. 

Calloused fingers reached your hips to move upwards, slipping under your shirt to dig into the flesh of your sides. The circles drawn onto the skin right under your ribs were blissful, almost causing you to shudder under his fingertips. 

Clothes have never been shed before and now wasn't the moment to start, but hands slipping under each other's shirts to feel the warm skin beneath has become a more common occurrence lately, after the bed-sharing.

It wasn't by territoriality or jealousy, it has come to your understanding that Hunter was fine with the fact that Crosshair was interested in a relationship with you, he simply didn't want to be tossed aside or forgotten. No, the touches were simply the next step in your agreed rhythm, slowly building towards more physical contact without jumping into the other's pants right away. 

The hands massaging your sides moved to your ass, the quick squeeze of his fingers telling you to jump without him having to separate his mouth from yours. 

Your fingers pulled at the hair on his neck, the newfound friction provided by his codpiece was too much for you to stay still. He grunted almost painfully, fully aware of the effect he had on your lower parts, the smells and touches and sounds all making him dizzy with lust. 

But now wasn't the time. His mouth unlatched from yours, allowing your head to fall back against the door for him to lick and kiss at your throat. He visited every spot that made you breathless, enjoying the feeling of your shaking flesh under his tongue while he could still take it. 

Soon he reached his point of no return and forced himself away from your skin, fingers gripping your hips under the effort. His face fell on your shoulder to calm his breathing, concentrating on your fingers slipping through his strands slowly, careful to not pull so you wouldn’t accidentally revive the dying fire in his lower abdomen. 

He pulled away to meet your eyes, his pupils were dilated, almost consuming all of the gorgeous brown rings that you loved to admire. He didn’t have to talk, his orbs were telling enough and you were sure yours were just as revealing. 

You fell for that man and he fell for you just as much. 

Your forehead moved to his, both your breath mending together. A smile pulled at your lips at something hitting the door behind you, the vibrations passing from the door to your back. 

“Stop eating each other’s faces. Lunch’s served.” You weren’t surprised at Crosshair’s annoyance. You knew the sniper was eagerly waiting for his turn to assault your lips. Apparently, he got addicted pretty quickly.  

“Not hungry for food.” He whispered, eyes glued to your lips once again.

“But I am.” You pushed against his chest after pecking his lips one last time. He followed your mouth, but you didn’t have any of it.

Back on your own feet, you passed a hand through your hair while another pair of hands straightened your shirt. 

Hunter opened the door and with a last kiss, you made your way to the back of the ship.

"I hope it's not too much of a battlefield in there." Tech seemed really unamused, poking at his plate when you entered the room.

"You’ll have fun cleaning everything up later." You snickered at his horrified look. This time nothing was out of place, so you could tease him. 

You took the seat right next to him and right in front of Wrecker who pushed a plate of vegetables with some brown cereal and a slice of unknown meat before you. It looked as delicious as it smelled. 

You immediately thanked him, not losing a second to feed the savory nutrients to your starving stomach. 

Hunter seated himself at his brother's side, leaving only Tech and yourself on your side of the table. 

"Need a drink?" Wrecker got up from his seat, stopping long enough to get your answer. 

With your full appreciation, you nodded to your big brother who got onto his feet to get bottles in the supply crates that were yet to be loaded onto the ship, thanks to two easily distractible soldiers. 

Your heart stopped as you saw him trip on his feet and fall down the ramp, painful yelps filling the common area of the ship. The rest of the oblivious boys jumped in their seat, not at the ruckus of their brother hitting the stairs in quick succession, but at your sudden victory cry. 

Laughing hard, you fell down your chair to clasp at your sides, leaving the rest of them to comprehend what actually happened by themselves. 

Soon you were a laughing, crying, breathless mess on the floor of the Marauder, totally unable to answer Tech's questions as Wrecker's low whines reached your ears, fuelling your laughter for another couple of minutes. 

You won.

[captainrexforever]

Trials and Tribulations 2/2

Rating: T

Word count: ~6k

Summary: The reader discovers that she has formed a force bond with her Mandalorian companion. This has some unforeseen complications during the events at the Imperial refinery on Morak.

Warnings: angst, fluff, canon typical violence, more Dad! Fett, awkward! Din, use of in-universe curse words

Note: Part 2 at last! There are quite a few pov. changes, so I hope that they don’t interrupt the flow of the story too much. Happy reading, and I hope you enjoy! 

Pt. 1

After settling into the cockpit alongside Fett, the only thing you can do is wait for Fennec’s signal, but that doesn’t mean you have to be bored. 

“Is it too much to ask for a tour of the flight controls?” 

“I’m surprised it took you this long to ask.” He speaks honestly. 

You can only chuckle in response and shrug. “What can I say, I’m not used to holding a conversation with my crewmate.”

“I take it Mando doesn’t talk much.” 

His eyes search your face, and although you attempt to hold his gaze, your eyes fall to the floor as you answer. “No, he doesn’t.”

Fett only nods in response, and you have a sudden urge to change the subject. “So, I noticed that you wear your helmet while flying, even though all the screens are displayed on the console.”

He must note the change in topic, but he doesn’t bring it up. “Yes, I tied all the tracking technology into the visor of my helmet. That way if I have to aim at something while in flight, I can observe it through the viewport and follow the object with my eyes, as if aiming a real blaster.”

“Woah, that’s really cool.”

“Indeed. It’s an idea my father often shared with me, although he didn’t get the chance to implement the changes. I was finally able to make the alterations myself.” There’s a little bit of nostalgia in his voice, and you wonder if you should feel bad for bringing up a potentially sensitive topic. “Perhaps I can let you try it on the retrieval run.” Boba continues. 

“Oh, no, no, no, maybe later, thank you. I don’t want to jeopardize the mission with my novice flying skills.”

“Is that so? You project the aura of a competent pilot.”

“Yes, but it’s been a while since I’ve sat behind the controls of a ship.”

Fett raises a hand to his chin, as if stroking a non-existent beard. “So you didn’t fly Mando’s ship?” It’s definitely a question, but it comes off more like a statement. 

“Well, I...I usually left that to Mando, I felt like it was almost a form of relaxation for him and I didn’t want to take that away.”

“Can I give you some advice?” 

That throws you off a little. 

“Sure.”

“A Mandalorian’s ship is a precious possession, not as important to them as beskar or their code, but still. A ship represents a Mandalorian’s freedom and individuality. If you were allowed to live within that ship for what I estimate to be several months, there was something else going on.”

It feels like someone lodged their fist into your chest and squeezed all the air out of your lungs. Surely he couldn’t mean...“What, what do you mean? Are you saying he was desperate for help no matter the cost?”

Fett wants to bang his head on the console, then bang it against your head to knock some sense into you. No wonder you and the Mandalorian get along so well, you’re both absolutely clueless. 

“Do you know that he carried you up the ramp of this ship last week when you were on death’s door, demanding medical attention from me?” Your eyes widen in response. “When we eventually realized you were losing too much blood, his first instinct was to infiltrate a medical station to obtain the necessary blood samples for a transfusion. Lucky for him, I had some sequencing instruments aboard, and we were able to identify your blood type. By some miracle, you and he happen to possess the same blood.” The atmosphere is becoming more tense by the second, and you can only sit there as Fett recounts the events surrounding your recent injuries. “He stayed by your side during the entire two day flight to Nevarro, refusing to eat or sleep. With the amount of time he spent providing blood to the transfusion system, I was sure he would pass out from blood loss before we arrived.” A choked sound leaves your throat. “The second we landed, he was on his feet, clutching onto your body as he carried you to the Marshal’s office.” 

He lets his words sink in for a moment as he pins you underneath his gaze once again. “I have fought countless battles, lost many comrades, and seen fellow warriors suffer horrible injuries. But I have never seen a man so stricken with grief and despair at the thought of losing a fellow comrade-in-arms. It’s obvious you mean much more to him than either of you realize.” 

He notices that you’re in shock after taking in all of that information, and he opens his mouth to say one last thing. “If you want to take a seat in the hold and let yourself process all of that, I’ll let you know when I receive the cue to take off.” 

The sentence is uttered with kindness, and you can only nod, thankful for his understanding. In a second you’re slipping down the ladder to the main hold of the ship. 

Kriff. 

Tears bite at the corners of your eyes as you suppress a sniffle with your forearm. That damned Mandalorian has been holding out on you. It all makes sense now. The affection you sensed earlier, the brief moments where you often notice his gaze linger for a millisecond too long. He cares about you. The thought has you releasing a muffled sob into your palms, why has he never told you? You would have welcomed his affection and returned it a thousand fold, if he had ever offered you the chance. 

A spike of fear races up your spine suddenly, and you tense in response. There is a familiar tickling sensation in the back of your mind, and you realize that Din is unintentionally projecting on you. After what happened earlier, you’re sure that you are the last person he wants to communicate with. His fear washes over you again, this time accompanied by panic, and you know that something has gone terribly wrong. Feelings be damned, you need to know what is going on down there. A firm nudge against his thought process grants your mind access to his, and the singular pulsing thought that envelops your brain gives you an immediate headache. 

“This is for the kid. The kid needs me, I can do this for him. I can do this for the kid.”

“Din, what’s going on?”

“You need to leave right now.”

“Din, what’s going on, let me help.”

There is no response. You’re so frustrated right now that you want to punch him, and you must be projecting because he allows you to see one more thought. 

You gasp in disbelief and shock. 

“Din...no. You can’t take your helmet off.”

“This is for the kid, Y/n. There is no other way.”

“Your creed, your way. What will you do after you take it off?”

“I...I don’t know. This is the only way I can save him.”

A tear rolls down your cheek.

“I understand.” Then you pull yourself from his mind. 

Even faced with death, while you cried over his limp body, he had refused to remove his helmet. 

No, you don’t understand at all.

~~

By the time Mayfeld and Mando board the ship, you’re seated in the cockpit once again, desperately trying to keep a firm hold on your emotions. The ship rocks with the force of an explosion as Boba makes a hasty retreat. 

“We got company. Hang on.” He announces. 

The ship swerves to the side as he maneuvers away from the blasts of two tie fighters, and you watch in fascination as the scope on his helmet automatically drops into place in front of his visor. 

“These Imperial pilots can’t hit a damn thing.” He complains to you.

“Isn’t that a good thing for us?” You ask.

“I suppose. It isn’t much fun though.”

Wow. Maybe he and Din aren’t so different after all, or perhaps all Mandalorians are just crazy. 

“You wanted to learn about the controls, right? Flip that gold switch I’m pointing to.” He requests.

After grasping a hold of the pilot seat to keep yourself upright, you reach for the control panel and flip the switch. 

“Excellent, now take my helmet.” He removes it and holds it out to you. “Let me know when the two fighters are within 80 meters of each other.” 

You take the helmet eagerly, desperate for some type of combat action to block out your overwhelming emotions. The visor remains dark until the helmet thunks into place around your head, then it bursts into life. There are so many readings on the display that you are overwhelmed for a moment. 

“Look at the top right corner of the HUD, it’ll show you the close-range scans and a distance measurement for the two targets.”

“Got it. The display measures the distance at 100 meters.” 

“Alright, just wait a second. Standard flight path protocol will have them grouping up soon.”

Sure enough, the number plunges down to 90, then 85, then 82. Just a little bit closer…“Now!”

A light flashes somewhere on the HUD as a click filters through the helmet’s speakers. A glance at the top right corner of the display reveals a projectile moving towards the two tie fighters, and you grin at the resulting explosion. There is still a satisfied smile on your face when you hand the helmet back to Fett. 

“Nice shot. And thank you.” You hope that he understands your referring both to the advice he shared earlier, as well as his recent actions.

He nods. “Any time, vod.” 

“Vod?”

“It’s Mando’a, the closest term in Basic is ‘comrade’.” 

That spikes your interest and there is a burning question on the tip of your tongue, but you leave it for later.

“I’m gonna set the ship down, you might want to take a seat.” Fett breaks the silence. 

You scramble to follow his advice, and once the landing cycle is complete he rises from his chair. “Just a moment.” He elaborates, as he descends down the ladder. 

His absence leaves you with a quiet moment to reflect, and you hold your fisted hands out so you can list some facts and organize your frazzled thoughts. Ok, you tell yourself as you take a deep breath. 

One, Din cares about you. 

Two, you care about Din. 

Three, he cares for the child like a son. 

Four...what’s another fact? Dank farrik!

Four, you repeat as you rack your brain. Ah yes, Din’s Creed forbids him from revealing his face to another being.

Five, Din obviously knew he had no choice but to risk breaking his code. The choice was to either reveal his face, or abandon the child to a fate that could be worse than death. 

Six. Well, now that you think about it, you are being a little bit petty. You would also be willing to risk anything, if it was the only way to save the kid. Now that you’ve gone and said it, you feel a little ashamed. Poor Din doesn’t deserve to deal with the loss of his child and your foul mood at the same time. 

You decide to continue your list.

Seven, Boba Fett’s ship is cool as hell.

Eight, Din is kinda hot. Wait, what?! Hold on a second.

Eight, Din is...alright fine. He’s pretty hot. 

Nine, He does have very nice thighs.

Ten, He’s really attractive when he’s fighting.

Eleven, He’s...Wait, you only have ten fingers! 

You really need to get yourself under control, this is completely out of line. 

“Let’s hold tight up here for a moment, Mando’s putting on his kit.” 

You let out an undignified squeak, caught entirely by surprise. What you said earlier was becoming more and more true by the second, Mando and Boba weren’t so different after all. 

~~

Meanwhile in the small fresher, Mando is in the process of attaching his beskar chestplate when you start projectingly very loudly. A blush rises to his cheeks as you approach the end of your mental list. He has always hoped that you felt some semblance of affection towards him, but the thoughts you are currently entertaining are on a whole new level.

After the events in the refinery, he’s still a little shaken, but he feels he owes you an explanation for his recent behavior. Once the last piece of Beskar is attached to his figure, he prepares to ascend the ladder to the cockpit. But, when he approaches, he can distinctly make out your voice, as well as Fett’s.

“There are two words that I sometimes hear Mando use, and I think that they are from Mando’a. Would you mind translating them?”

“Why don’t you ask him?”

“I did once. He didn’t answer.”

“What are they?”

“‘Verd’ and ‘ika’.”

“Interesting.” He strokes at his chin again. “It’s actually one word, verd’ika.” (Little warrior)

“Oh. What does it mean?”

“It means…” 

Oh no, Din thinks. I need to break this up right now. 

“What’s the status on Cara and Fennec?” He blurts out. Affection and amusement fill him when he notices you jump slightly in your seat at his sudden appearance. 

“They should be approaching our position at any moment now.”

Din nods. He realizes he’s awkwardly lingering at the base of the ladder now, but he can’t let Fett share that translation with you. Not yet. Not until he is able to explain himself.

“Fett, could you provide me with the materials to replace the cooling core in my blaster? All my spare parts and tools were on my ship.” 

Boba stares him down. He knows exactly what Din is trying to do. Din sighs, he is far too fatigued, mentally and emotionally, to deal with this right now. He’s just about to give up when Fett gives him a sharp nod, plops his helmet over his head, and rises from his chair before descending into the hull. Din notices him shoot you an apologetic look, which you respond to with a tight-lipped smile. 

Now that at least one disaster has been avoided, Din turns to follow through with his made-up task. A voice crackles through the speakers in his helmet, and he startles when he recognizes Fett’s voice. He hasn’t heard a fellow Mandalorian’s voice transmit through his helmet’s audio channel since the destruction of the covert. 

“I know what you did back there.” Fett states.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I meant in the refinery.” Fett clarifies.

Din tenses in response and whirls around to face Fett again. How could he know?

“I was monitoring all Imperial communications from inside the refinery as a precaution, just in case there was a complication. The Imperial terminal in the base uploaded a facial scan that wasn’t registered to the computer’s database right after you two arrived.”

Din’s hands clench into fists, if Fett saw the scan…

“Don’t worry Mando, I never saw the image. But, I did have to perform a fair bit of technological jargon to approve the scan. And, I made sure the image was deleted from the Imperial database immediately after the files were downloaded.”

Din’s figure visibly relaxes, those were just two more favors he owed Fett. 

“You know, you owe your companion a lot of explanations. Or should I say, gar verd’ika.” (Your little warrior)

If Din didn’t feel so exhausted he would put up a bigger fight, but he can’t help the way he immediately gives in to Fett’s unspoken inquiry. 

“She is...important to me, I just don’t know how to tell her.”

“Well you’re going to have to do better than that. Think about it, then come talk to me. We will figure it out, as brothers.”

Din nods his approval. 

“Are you two done staring into each other’s eyes? Because you’re kind of freaking me out.”

Mayfeld.

“Shut up Mayfeld.” Boba and Din huff in unison as they shoot him two identical helmeted glares.

Later, after Mayfeld is relieved from the crew, Boba and Din agree that they should fly to the nearest friendly planet so that they can restock their food stores and ammunition. While the ship is in hyperspace, Din takes a seat to prepare the message he plans to transmit to Moff Gideon. It only takes him a moment to agree on the wording. He decides to repeat the same lines that Moff Gideon arrogantly delivered on Nevarro several months ago, with a couple key differences. The message will serve as a warning, an omen of what is to come. 

The last line of the speech suddenly gives him an idea. Perhaps he knows what to say to you after all.

~~

Now that Mayfeld is gone, (you don’t even bother to ask why you are leaving him behind) you are free to sit down in the hold once again. But, after spending so much time in the cockpit, you find yourself wanting to stay. Boba Fett still sits in the pilot seat, wearing his helmet as he pilots the ship. Mando sits in the furthest corner of the hold, facing the clear viewport, as he and Cara discuss their next steps towards retrieving the child. You assume that Fennec is also down below, most likely passing the time by polishing her beloved rifle.

Fett breaks the comfortable silence that reigns over the cockpit. “As I recall, I promised you a chance to fly. Even though we’re in hyperspace right now, it’s good practice to just sit in front of the controls and familiarize yourself.” 

“Are you sure?” You’re secretly jumping up and down with excitement, but you don’t want to annoy Fett right as he’s offering you the opportunity to fly his ship.

“I’m quite certain.” He stands up, offering you the seat. 

You sit down immediately, running your fingers lovingly over the controls. It’s been a long time since you’ve been behind the console of a ship as unique as this one. After you’re done gawking, you look over to Fett, only to notice that he’s staring off into space. At least, you assume he’s staring off into space, you can’t really tell while he is wearing the helmet. He looks over to you after a second and removes his helmet, offering it to you for the second time that day. 

“Are you sure I need the helmet?” Please say yes.

“Go ahead, you might as well be familiar with all the aspects of the in-flight instruments.”

You offer him a beaming smile before settling the beskar over your head. “I’ll be right back.” You hear him say, along with the sounds of him descending the ladder. Odd, you think, he seemed to be in quite a hurry.

~~

 As Din discusses his plan with Cara, he hears Fett’s voice crackle through the speaker in his helmet. “You ready to have that discussion? Your companion just announced she’s heading to the fresher, so we have time for a brief chat in the cockpit.”

“I’ll be there shortly.” Din responds.

Din continues his conversation with Cara, and when he notices a blur make its way down the ladder from the cockpit, he politely excuses himself. 

He makes his way towards the ladder, the echo of his feet meeting the rungs causing nerves to bubble to life in his chest. One foot meets the durasteel flooring of the cockpit, then the other follows. He stands there awkwardly for a second, the back of the pilot chair and Fett’s helmet in clear view, then abruptly spills his thoughts.

“I know what to say.” He clears his throat as his voice cracks a little. 

~~ 

Fennec stands from her seat, affectionately patting her rifle as she props it against the side of the chair. As she passes by the supply closet on her way to the refresher, she notices Fett warily peering out from the doorway.

“What are you doing?”

Boba Fett, the famed Boba Fett, actually jumps at her words, hushing her as he continues to peer in the direction of the cockpit. She wrinkles her brow in confusion and glances towards the cockpit as well, wondering what exactly she should be watching for. 

~~

A few moments later, Cara notices that there is not a soul in sight, and she rises to her feet, determined to figure out where everyone has disappeared to. A quick sweep of the hull doesn’t reveal a sign of Mando or Fennec, so she decides to check the hallway on the other side of the hold. As she rounds the corner she notices both Fennec and Fett peering out of the doorway of what appears to be a supply closet.

Her eyes narrow as she stares them down. “What---”

Both Fennec and Fett shush her immediately, their gaze fixed upon the cockpit. Thoroughly bewildered, she too looks towards the cockpit, worried that something has gone awry. 

~~

Meanwhile, you are sitting in the cockpit, trying to scrape your jaw off of the floor as you examine each of the control panels. This really is one unique ship. Just as you are taking a closer look at the targeting instruments, a voice breaks through your thoughts.

“I know what to say to her now, Fett. I will tell her that she means everything to me, that she means more to me than I can ever put into words.” 

You are completely dumbfounded. Does Mando know who he just said that to? 

Fett...that sneaky little bastard...he set you two up, didn’t he. 

Well, you are not one to look a gift taun-taun in the mouth, so you take off the helmet, stand up, turn around, and level your gaze with Mando’s. 

“The feeling’s mutual, vod.” (Comrade)

He panics, because one second he’s standing in the cockpit, and the next he’s disappeared from sight. The clang of beskar meeting durasteel, along with a grunt of pain, echoes through the hold as you drop the helmet and scramble into motion. 

You rush to the top of the ladder, staring down at Din’s splayed out form in shock. A snicker breaks the silence and your gaze flies to the hallway where your other three companions are smothering laughter into the palms of their hands. You can’t help yourself, the ridiculous sight has you falling into a fit of giggles as well. 

“This is not funny!” Din’s voice echoes through your head.

The abruptness of his statement startles you, and one second you’re standing on firm durasteel, the next you’re falling through the air as you too plummet towards the flooring at the base of the ladder. Except you don’t hit the floor. You hit two warm arms that absorb most of your fall, then a beskar-clad chest. 

A pained grunt escapes Din’s helmet. 

“You’re heavy.”

“Yeah? Well you are busted, Mando.”

“Busted?” It sounds like he is still straining for breath.

“Busted.”

More laughter peals through the recycled air of the hold, and you and Din turn simultaneously to fix all three of your crewmates with a glare. 

“You see what you’ve done.” 

“It’s not my fault you're clumsy, Din.”

“Clumsy? You’re the one who fell on top of me!”

“You shouldn’t scare me all the time!”

“Are you two gonna get up, or are you just gonna lay there on the floor?”

“Cara!” You exclaim, your cheeks bursting into flames. 

“I can’t wait till this mission is over, you all need some serious help.” Fennec grumbles, but she’s hiding a grin as she stomps to her chair, retrieves her rifle-just a precaution, she mumbles-then enters the fresher. 

As for Fett, he has a shit-eating grin on his face, and you can’t help but notice that he looks like a proud father.

“Well, Mando, I think we solved your problem.” His grin falters a little. “Or, at least, one of your problems.”

Fett shoots you a wink as he steps over your prone form and ascends the ladder. “Good luck with that one, you’re gonna need it.”

Cara also walks past your sprawled out bodies, taking a seat as she pointedly looks away from you and out the viewport. 

You look down at Mando, a soft smile overcoming your features when you notice he’s been staring at you. One of the hands that was used to brace your fall is now settled on the small of your back and it holds you firmly to his chest. The other hovers in the air beside your left ear, hesitating, and you give it a glance out of the corner of your eye. You so desperately want him to touch you with that hand, just like you’ve always imagined. So you give him a little nudge. 

“Could you brush that piece of hair out of my eye for me?” It’s practically a whisper as you refrain from shattering this tender moment.

A shaky exhale rattles from beneath his helmet, and then his hand moves slowly to fulfill your request. Seconds drag by like hours...and then his touch finally greets your skin. With a tenderness that is so shocking it hurts (has he thought about this too?) the tips of four fingers meet your forehead, sliding down your temple oh so slowly until they glide through your hair, finally curling around the shell of your ear as any stray strands are tucked away. 

You shut your eyes for a moment, every nerve ending fizzling out in complete bliss as you bask in the warmth of his touch. Neither of you move for a long while, and you would think he’d fallen asleep if not for the incessant chatter that hums through your mind. 

“You’re smiling.” His voice surfaces through the haze of thoughts. 

“I know. I can feel you, your voice, your thoughts...I thought you shut me out.” 

“Never.”

You open your eyes and he is still in the same position as before. His hand curled behind your left ear, his visor staring up into your face, and the hand on your back still radiating the same warmth. After another shaky breath, he drags his hand down the side of your face, curls it around the back of your neck, then slides it upward over the base of your skull. Each movement is drawn out, as if he’s moving in slow motion. You both know that he’s only trying to prolong this moment, along with each gesture, for as long as he possibly can.  

It’s your turn to sigh when he bends your head down, closing the distance between your faces so that your forehead rests against the top of his helmet. Your palms, that had previously been supporting your weight, abandon the floor to splay themselves over Din’s beskar chestplate instead. The closeness is suffocating in the most beautiful way, and you’re sure that if he wasn’t wearing a helmet you would be begging for a kiss by now. 

“You’re thinking very loudly.”

His voice has you blushing, but you can’t bring yourself to feel ashamed.

“I can’t help it. You’re just too damn hot to handle.” It’s meant to tease him, but the response you receive is the complete opposite of what you expect.

“Yeah, especially when I’m fighting, am I right?”

There is a dramatic pause while your brain stalls to a grinding halt. “Were you listening earlier, Din? Why the nerve--”

He backpedals immediately, trying to reconcile his previous statement before you decide to jump up and clock him in the head. “Do you know that we’ve been kissing this whole time.”

Huh? Kissing? Your lips haven’t even touched! He must have hit his head harder than you thought. 

“Are you coherent right now?”

He chuckles fondly, the sound echoing through your mind, and you’re sure it's the most beautiful sound you have ever heard. “This gesture, our foreheads touching...it’s called a keldabe kiss. Since my people do not remove their helmets, that is how we show affection to our loved ones.”

“Oh.” You can feel his nerves pulsing through your mind. “It’s perfect.” A searing warmth blossoms throughout your whole body, and you know it is the result of his happiness. “Will you tell me--”

Fennec emerges from the fresher and shocks you two out of your stupor. “Are you two going to stop gazing into each other’s eyes and take a seat?” 

Fennec and Cara both share a chuckle at the way you and Din jump at the sudden intrusion. You are too immersed in your lovey-dovey emotions to even glare at them so you just huff in response. A glance towards Din’s helmet doesn’t reveal much about his current thought process, so you rely on your bond and just let yourself feel. 

The emotions he possesses are so powerful they are blinding, so you guide yourself to his loudest most current thoughts.

“...how’d I get so lucky? I wonder if she will let me kiss her again.”

You just shake your head fondly. “Come on Romeo, let’s go sit down.” You offer a hand once you are standing, and he grumbles, eventually taking it even though you both know he requires zero assistance to lift himself from the floor. He doesn’t release you though, even when he reaches his seat and settles into the chair. Just as you’re about to turn and return to your own seat, he tugs on that hand and sends you barreling into his lap. A wide-eyed look of shock is the only expression you can manage as you fumble to keep yourself on his lap without tumbling to the floor. 

And now he’s laughing into your bond again...great.

“Stop laughing and help me, you buffoon!”

Din quells his chuckling and finally moves to help you right your figure. His hands attempt to settle you into his embrace, but he can’t help but notice that you still seem uncomfortable. He looks to Cara for help, only to realize that her gaze is still directed out the viewport. Instead, he looks to Fennec, and the gaze that she eventually gives him screams you’ve got to be kidding me. He glares at her from beneath the helmet, raising a hand in desperation as he gestures towards you. Fennec glares back, and then mimics the pose of a droid, with her arms out, legs limp, and an impassive gaze on her face. Then she gestures back towards him. He gets the hint immediately, blushing red beneath the helmet, and nods his thanks. She just waves him off and continues to polish her rifle. 

For the first time in his adult life, the Mandalorian slouches in his seat. His spine rounds as he curls himself around your form, providing a protective shell around your body. Both hands guide you into a sideways position, similar to a wedding carry-he blushes even harder at that realization-and then he tucks your head into the crook between his helmet and chestplate, where his cloak will cushion your head. You give him a sleepy smile and snuggle closer to his armored chest, looping an arm around his neck as you get comfortable. 

“So will you tell me what it means?” You attempt again.

“What does what mean?”

“Verd’ika.”

“It means ‘little warrior’.”

The smile that overtakes your face is almost blinding. You fall asleep with the echo of that thought in your head, and wake up to the gentle snores of a certain Mandalorian. There’s an incessant needling in the back of your sleep-addled brain. There’s no way Din would have fallen asleep with the rest of the crew watching. You blink your eyes open, and panic a little bit when you realize that hold is quite a bit darker than earlier. There are a couple blinking lights from the cockpit that shed some light on the room. And after a second, you scan the area only to realize that there is no one else in sight. 

Abruptly, your back twitches in pain and you realize that Mando’s vambrace is digging into your back. You shift slightly, trying to adjust your position without leaving your warm perch. Din mumbles in his sleep, shifting a little bit at your movements, and it causes the hand you slung behind his neck earlier to thwack him rather violently in the back of the head. He shoots to a standing position immediately, and you squeak, clutching onto him like a koala as he nearly sends you hurtling towards the ground. 

His blaster is drawn in a second, and your sluggish mind struggles to connect with him through your bond in order to calm his frantic motions. He must break out of his trance before you are able to form a connection, because he suddenly settles back down into the chair with a tired exhale. 

“Sorry, you startled me.” He apologizes.

“It’s ok.” 

He adjusts you into a more comfortable position, fussing as he tucks you back into his chest. You just hum against his neck, basking in the warmth that he produces. Surprisingly, the beskar itself is also warm, and you note that it must maintain the same temperature as his body. 

“We landed a little while ago. The others left to enjoy a night on the town, they won’t be back for several hours.” 

“Mmm.” 

“Are you even awake?” 

“Yes.” You respond as you peel an eye open. The adorable way Din is tilting his helmet to look at your face sends a wave of affection blossoming through your chest. But, as cute as he looks right now, you really want to be asleep.

“Since we have a moment, I want to talk about what happened today.”

That has your attention, and you’re fully awake in seconds. 

“I know that we disagreed on a couple things today. And, we have both made implications about our feelings, but I want to lay everything out on the table so it is one hundred percent clear.”

You nod in agreement. 

“You and the child will always be the first priority to me. No matter what. Mandalorians value their clan, their family, above all else. You and the kid are my family.” He cuts himself off, voice cracking a little as he tries to continue.

You rush to fill the silence, eager to reassure him of your own feelings. “You and the kid are my family too Din, and I would not have it any other way. I know that you didn’t give me the mission earlier because you were worried about me. And, I know that you had to remove your helmet because there was no other way to locate the little one. I am sorry I didn’t support your decisions. I was bitter and hurt, but I won’t make that mistake again.”

A sound, like that of a choked sob, escapes Din and your heart squeezes in pain. Before you can finish, he cuts you off.

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way ner verd’ika. (My little warrior) I am so sorry, I didn’t even think about how you would feel.”

“No! Don’t apologize, I am the one apologizing to you.”

You are both laughing through your tears, and you clutch at his hands with both of yours. 

“I love you Din, I love you so much, and I will always support any decision you make.”

“Ner verd’ika, ni kar'tayli gar darasuum. (My little warrior, I love you) You hold my heart in your hands.”

At that admission, you feel a burning desire to kiss him, but you settle for resting your forehead against his helmet instead.

“I seem to recall that you promised to ‘kick my ass’ once we landed.”

“Stop it, you’re ruining the moment.” You rebuke him as you shove half-heartedly at his chest.

“I think you’re wimping out, ner verd’ika. (My little warrior) You don’t think you can beat me anymore?”

How dare he tease you. The nerve of this man.

“No, I’ll still kick your ass anyways. I hope you won’t be too embarrassed when I school you in front of everyone else tomorrow.” A smug smirk stretches across your face as you finish speaking.

“You’re quite feisty, my dear.”

“Shut up, you love it.”

He grumbles beneath the helmet, neither denying nor acknowledging your statement. 

“I never realized you had such a dirty mouth.” The words are directed through your bond, and you can’t help but notice that the tone is a little suggestive. His words have your face erupting into flames.

Your Mandalorian has some real nerve.

~~

Ending Notes: I am actually really happy with how this turned out. Multi-chapter stories are a little intimidating and I admire all of you writers that can juggle several multi-chapter stories at once. I hope that this did the whole un-masking/face reveal thing justice while still staying as true to Din’s character as possible. ALSO, if I messed up any of the Mandalorian culture/lore stuff, please let me know. 

~~

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

Chapter 2 of The Sea Like Glass (a Din Djarin/Reader fic)

Summary: Din and you finally get a moment alone after several weeks of crammed and tense space travel. Now that you have a little privacy, it's time to clear the air about what happened on Moff Gideon's cruiser. 

The smutty part 2 you didn't ask for. 

Pairings: Din Djarin/Reader; Din Djarin/You 

Rating: E(xplicit) for smexy times in the latter half of the chapter 

Warnings: Brief mentions of past slavery. The rest is just more angsty/pining fluff and Din having his first time. 

A/N: Soooooooo... this happened. I planned to write just a short, smutty follow-up, but this turned into 16k of pining angst + some smut at the end. Anyway, I've also included a glossary of Mando'a and other Star Wars terms at the end for your viewing pleasure. I also posted this on ao3, so I’ll include the link, but I’ll paste the text below, too. 

Ao3 Link: Here

“You sure you won’t change your mind?” Cara Dune asked as she stood on the ramp of Slave 1, fidgeting with the strap of the bag slung over her shoulder. 

The arched entrance to the city loomed behind her, the setting sun perfectly framed between its pillars. The warmth of the celestial orb made you shudder with pleasure after so long spent in the cold reaches of space, and you really wished you could take the marshal up on her offer. 

Instead, you smiled wryly and chafed the outside of your arms, hoping to retain some of the heat even if it was just through friction. “Not my mind that needs changing.” 

“I know, I know,” the former shock trooper muttered, and her eyes jumped over your shoulder, looking back up into the ship. “But… maybe if you tried—” 

“I’ve tried everything I knew to try,” you sighed and dropped your arms. “But you know how… stubborn he can be, and you heard his arguments as well as I did. Your people need you, Marshal, and we’ve dragged you around the galaxy long enough. Plus, Kyrze heard us mention this planet, so she will most likely stop here sooner rather than later, but he thinks if he’s off-world, she’ll just move on and continue her search elsewhere.” 

“And if she doesn’t?” Cara asked with an arched eyebrow. 

“She will,” you said, and even if you didn’t know this for certain, you were pretty confident in your words. You had seen the look in Bo-Katan’s eyes as she regarded the Dark Saber and then Din on Gideon’s cruiser. It had been almost a week since your motely group of four fled on Slave 1, but even if you hadn’t seen hide or tail of the heiress, you knew she was out there, searching. Hunting. 

And you knew she would hunt your Mando to the edges of the galaxy. 

“Honestly, that’s kinda what I’m afraid of,” Cara grumbled as she shifted the pack on her shoulder again. 

Me too, you wanted to say, but you didn’t. 

“We’ll be fine,” you said instead, and you tried to flash the older woman a reassuring smile. “And if we aren’t, we know how to reach you.” 

“Good.” Cara nodded, shifted again, hesitated. Her eyes glanced back behind her, and there was a quiet longing in her body language as she stared at her town, but then she turned to face you directly again. “If… if you do happen to change his mind at some point, my offer still stands. I’ll set you up with a nice residence here, and Karga always has work… We could probably even scrounge up a new ship somewhere. And if that princess does show her face around these parts, we can take care of her together.” 

The earnest glint in the former shock trooper’s eyes warmed your aching heart just a fraction, and a small but genuine smile spread across your face. 

“Thank you, Marshal Dune,” you said, and you cleared your throat when it suddenly grew tight. “It’s nice to know some people have your back. I’ve… never had that before.” 

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that any longer, kid.” Cara smirked and reached out to playfully punch your shoulder. “You have a few people in your corner now. But, since it seems like we might not be in the same system for a bit, try to stay out of trouble, alright?” 

“I’ll do my best,” you laughed before you jerked your chin in the direction of the city. “You better get going, Marshal. Sun’s setting, and I’m sure your people have missed you.” 

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” she snorted, but she inclined her head and hefted her pack higher on her shoulder all the same. Then her eyes suddenly clicked over your shoulder again, and her smirk widened. “Hey, Mando. Come to say bye to me again?” 

“Mostly wondering what the holdup is,” Din replied from behind you. “Fett’s ready to go.” 

“I was just saying goodbye and seeing the marshal off.” You turned your head slightly and frowned at the imposing Mandalorian standing above you on the ramp. 

“For ten minutes?” 

“Some people don’t give monosyllabic answers,” Cara teased, and when you turned back to face her, her smirk had become a full-blown grin. “But don’t worry, I won’t keep your girl from you any longer.” 

You flushed deeply at the “your girl” part of the marshal’s sentence, but she wasn’t done yet. 

“Take care of her, okay, Mando?” Cara jerked a thumb at you, and the heat in your cheeks started to crawl down your neck. “If you don’t, I’ll have to come steal her from you myself since she’s obviously too good for you.” 

The shock trooper tossed you a flirty wink, and even though you knew she was joking (for the most part, anyway,) you blushed from the roots of your hair all the way down to your sternum. 

“I can take care of myself,” you muttered as you crossed your arms over your chest, but you couldn’t help shooting Din a furtive glance, wondering how he would respond. 

The black T of his visor was inscrutable as ever, and his body language gave nothing away, either. 

“She’ll be fine,” he said flatly, not even glancing at you. “Take care of yourself, Dune.” 

“Always do,” Cara drawled, and she put two fingers to her temple in a partial salute. 

Din nodded once, and that was apparently all he had to say on the matter because he turned and walked up the plank without another word or glance in your direction. 

You frowned after the Mandalorian, an unsettling disquiet writhing through your veins. You suddenly felt cold, but you tried to tell yourself it was just because the sun had finally slipped beyond the far horizon, leaving you in a bruised twilight. 

“Hey.” 

You turned back around to find Cara was frowning now, eyebrows furrowed deeply as her lips pressed into a thin line, and she stared into the bowels of the ship for another moment before her gaze found yours. 

“Take care of him, too,” she said. The amusement from earlier had faded from her tone, replaced instead with concern. “He’s been… different since the kid left.” 

“I know,” you murmured, your heart twisting in your chest. “I’ll do my best with that, too.” 

You just hoped your best was enough. 

~~~~~ 

The ramp closed behind you with a clang a few minutes later, and you sighed as you dragged a hand through your knotted hair. It had been a while since you’d taken a full shower, and you winced when your fingers got tangled in the slightly greasy strands. 

“You girls finally done?” 

You jumped at Boba’s sudden drawl, your heart leaping into your throat as you snapped your head up. The older bounty hunter sat sprawled in one of the four chairs on the lower level of Slave 1. Fennec stood behind him, casually leaning against the back of his chair, and Din sat in the seat opposite. 

“Dank farrik, Fett,” you grumbled as you rubbed the skin over your heart while you took the last empty seat beside Din. “Way to give a gal a heart attack. And yes, we’re done, so we can go now, alright?” 

“Ahh, but that’s where we encounter a problem,” Boba grunted. 

“Problem?” you echoed with a frown, and you scooted forward in your seat as your heart started its own pod race in your chest. “What problem? Is something wrong with the ship? Is it Gideon? Did the carbonite malfunction? Or is it Bo-Katan? Did she find us already? Or—” 

Din suddenly placed a hand on your knee, and when your words stumbled to a breathless stop, you realized you’d been panic rambling. 

“Sorry,” you gasped, dots dancing in the corners of your vision, and you tried to focus on the grounding pressure of Din’s bare palm against your leg. 

“Breathe,” he murmured softly, and even now, the rasp of his modulator set every hair on your body on end. 

“Breathing,” you panted as your hands clenched and unclenched into fists in your lap, “but it might be easier if you just tell me what the problem is.” 

“It’s not really a problem,” Din said, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over your patella. 

“Oh, really?” Boba’s voice was two parts mocking and one part amused, and he arched a scarred, hairless brow at the other bounty hunter. “Well, then, Mand’alor. Where to next?” 

Din went rigid at the taunting title, and he was silent for a long time. So long that Boba’s eyes flicked to you, the scars on his face contorting as he furrowed his brow ever so slightly, a question clear in his gaze. 

What’s wrong with him? 

You wished you knew. 

The silence stretched on for another minute. Two. Then Din’s hand suddenly tightened around your knee like a vise, his fingers digging almost painfully into the bone. 

You suppressed a flinch and shot him a concerned glance, but he was still facing Boba, his profile imposing, his mask impenetrable. 

And yet… you could see the finest tremor along the edges of him. Like he was a vibroknife, vibrating at such a high frequency it was nearly invisible to the naked eye. His breath was a degree harsher than usual as it rasped through his modulator, and you suddenly recognized his body language from that storage room, realizing with a start what it all meant. 

Din didn’t know where to go next. He probably didn’t even know what to do next, untethered from his Creed and foundling, adrift without a compass, without a purpose. He was unsure. Uncertain. Lost. 

This triggered something in you, a warm protectiveness that settled low in your gut, churning its way up your throat and off your tongue like an unstoppable flood. 

“Tatooine,” you suddenly found yourself saying, your tongue a foreign entity curling in your mouth. 

Din, Boba, and Fennec turned to look at you in unison, but no one was more surprised than you were. 

“Why there?” Boba asked, always straight to the point, his brown eyes locking on yours. 

“Why not?” You shrugged and tried to ignore the heavy feeling of Din’s gaze on your face. 

“Kyrze will probably figure out to look for us there sooner or later,” Fennec pointed out. “Fett and I had a… well-known history of working for the Hutts.” 

“True,” you allowed, “but it’s a good place to regroup for now. We all know the area, have contacts. I used to work for a mechanic named Peli Motto, out of a hanger in Mos Eisley. She’s a good friend. She’ll take us in for a time, maybe even point us in the direction of work or a… a new ship.” 

You darted a glance at Din as you said the last bit, but he didn’t react in a way you could notice or measure. 

“Hmmmm…” Boba stroked his chin as he considered your words, Fennec looking pensive, too, but then you were talking again before you could stop yourself. 

“Plus, the Hutts have fallen into disarray ever since Jabba was killed,” you reminded the bounty hunter. “You most likely won’t have any trouble from them. Honestly, I’d be surprised if they were able to put up a fight at all.” 

A slow smile spread across Boba’s face, his scars undulating across his features like writhing sand snakes, and a dark glint sparked to life in his equally dark eyes. 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he rumbled, his voice teetering on the edge of laughter, and Fennec smirked at his side. 

“Yeah?” You smiled faintly, and a kernel of relief unfurled in your chest. Then you turned to the Mandalorian beside you. “Does that sound alright to you?” 

He shifted to face you more fully, your face dimly reflected in the glass T of his visor. You watched yourself blink once, twice, and then he nodded. 

“Yes,” he said, voice flat and unaffected. “That’s fine.” 

Your smile waned a fraction, but at least he answered you. He was still touching you, too, his hand a familiar, heavy weight on your thigh, so you tried not to get too lost in your own dark musings. 

Soon, you’d be back in familiar territory, back on your homeworld, and you’d have a moment to breathe. A moment to think. You told yourself that once Din could have some space and time to process his feelings-- kriff, just some time to actually sleep in a bed and not crammed into a seat, sealed into his armor-- everything would be fine. 

Everything would be fine. 

At least… this is what you prayed to the Maker as Boba returned to the cockpit to input the new coordinates. 

~~~ 

It took nearly another week to reach Tatooine, and even though you’d done long trips before, weeks of inky blackness and stars and no one around for hundreds of parsecs… this was different. You were practically coming out of your skin with restlessness the entire time, your nails already chewed to the quick, and you wondered, not for the first time, why you couldn’t have just all stayed on Nevarro. 

You knew Mando’s reasoning, or at least the reasons he gave out loud, but as the days and nights of crammed space travel aboard the Slave 1 continued, a part of you wondered if Din himself just… couldn’t go back to Nevarro. Couldn’t go back to the place where so many of his kinsman had been slaughtered in cold blood, especially now that he was without the foundling that he had risked his entire covert for. 

You didn’t have the guts to ask if your theory was fact. So, you kept quiet as the ship continued on to Tatooine, and Din did, too. 

Except he kept really quiet. 

Cara had noticed it before, but as the days went on, it only grew more apparent. 

He barely spoke at all, and what little he did say was mundane. He hadn’t said a single word about anything that happened on Gideon’s cruiser. Nothing. Not about Grogu, the Jedi, Bo-Katan, the Dark Saber on his hip, or the Imperial bastard frozen in Fett’s storage. 

He especially hadn’t commented on your confession of love and the subsequent kisses the two of you shared. 

You would have thought you hallucinated the scene in the storage closet entirely, except the usually stoic Mandalorian had been glued to your side since you boarded Fett’s ship. Din sat in the seat beside you on Slave 1’s lower level, his body hot and rigid against your side, his palm a constant searing pressure on your knee or thigh. The touching was new, but certainly not unwelcome, yet you still found yourself wishing he would just say something. You tried to catch his eye several times, but with his helmet back in place he was once again an unreadable silver mask. 

And then, when you tried to reciprocate his touch silently instead, place your hand on his, stroke his arm, he seized up every time like he’d taken a blast from his pulse rifle, the breath stilling in his chest until you moved away. 

You didn’t understand. 

You didn’t understand why he was acting like this now, but you tried not to take offense. You told yourself the bounty hunter had gone through a lot of trauma in a short amount of time. He’d lost his ship and his son, broken the Creed he’d sworn his entire life to, and somehow won the mantle of Mand’alor, ruler of his ruined ancestral home. Now, he was stuffed in a tiny tin-can in the middle of nowhere space, being hunted by a former princess so he could be attacked, defeated, and usurped. 

It was a lot. You knew it was a lot. Plus, you knew Din was a private person, and quarters were close on the Slave 1. You didn’t expect him to sing you ballads in front of everyone, to whisper sweet Mando’a nothings in your ear. In fact, you told yourself expecting anything right now was selfish, callous. There were so many other pressing issues vastly more important than your would-be romance problems. 

And yet, still… it hurt. Every time you looked at him, every time he brushed against you, every time you woke up with a start in your chair with the memory of what his lips felt like against yours, it hurt. 

But you continued to remind yourself that your mere slighted feelings paled in comparison to everything the Mandalorian was going through, so… you kept your bruised ego and heart to yourself. 

You sighed for the umpteenth time as you stared out one of the ship’s windows, the stars streaking by like water droplets on glass. Boba and Fennec were both up in the cockpit, so it was quiet on the lower level, your ears nearly ringing in the silence. Din’s hand was on your leg again, but when you turned to look at him, his helmet didn’t shift to meet your gaze. He could have been asleep but… something told you he wasn’t, and your heart jerked unsteadily in your chest. 

“Din,” you whispered. You didn’t mean to. You didn’t even know what you wanted to say, but it didn’t matter in the end. 

He didn’t respond, didn’t even flinch, not even when you murmured his name a second time. 

You bit your lip and glanced down at his calloused fingers enveloping your knee, and even though you could feel the warmth of his skin through your thin pants, you thought the Mandalorian had never seemed so far away from you.

~~~ 

Slave 1 finally landed in Hanger 3-5 just as Tatooine’s dual suns were kissing the horizon. Nearly two weeks had passed since you’d fled Gideon’s cruiser, a little under a week since you dropped off Dune, and even if hot sand had never been your favorite, you took a bracing breath of fresh, non-recycled air as you stepped off the ship’s ramp and onto familiar sandy ground. 

You stretched your arms over your head and basked in the red, waning sunlight, your eyes slipping shut as you forgot all about your troubles for just a moment. This place had never been home to you, not truly, but it still stirred a sense of nostalgia and familiarity within you all the same. 

“Kriff, girlie, you look as skittish as a womp rat. As haggard as one, too.” 

You opened your eyes and smiled at the short woman in front of you with her hands on her hips, the dying sun glinting off her curls and the smudge of grease across her cheek. 

“Hey, Peli,” you greeted. “Missed you, too.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” the mechanic huffed and rolled her eyes, but she still stepped forward and wrapped you in a quick hug. Then she darted back and clapped her hands together, her gaze jumping over your shoulder as she rose up on her tip-toes. “Alright, now, where’s the little guy? I’ve got some treats inside that I saw at the market and knew he would love the next time you blew through town.” 

The smile immediately died on your face, and you shifted your weight from foot to foot, one hand coming up to rub at the back of your neck. The other hand made it halfway to your mouth before you remembered your nail beds were already a torn and bloody mess, so you quickly tucked your fingers into your pants to curb the anxious habit. 

Peli knew all your anxious habits, though. Knew you better than any other being in the galaxy, having taken you in as a wayward teen after this sandy planet ate you up and spat you out. Her face fell as she stared at you, and her hands hung limp at her sides. 

“No,” she murmured, something like horror building in her eyes. “He’s not…” 

“He’s alive,” you hurried to reassure her. “We got him back from the Imps unharmed.” 

“Oh…” Peli frowned, confusion replacing horror. “Then where is he? And why do you look like that?” 

“Like what?” you asked, suddenly self-conscious of your greasy hair and wrinkled, dirty clothing. 

“Like someone broke your heart,” she said bluntly. 

Her words struck a little too close to home, as always, but you tried to brush it off with a fake smile. 

“I would have to have a heart for that to happen,” you joked. “We both know mine shriveled up years ago under these two Maker-forsaken suns.” 

“Hmph, and we both know that’s a load of bantha dung,” the mechanic grunted, her eyes narrowing on you dangerously. “You didn’t answer my question, girlie. What happened to the little guy?” 

You sighed and opened your mouth to reply but didn’t get the chance to. 

“He’s been returned to his people.” 

You and Peli jumped in unison and turned to look at the Mandalorian standing several feet away at the base of the ship’s ramp. His silhouette was painted in shadows and the deep reds of sunset, and despite the emotional turmoil you’d been through in the last two weeks, your core throbbed at the sight of him. 

“His people?” Peli echoed and drew you from your traitorous, horny thoughts. 

“You mean…” “Yes,” Din said curtly. “We encountered a Jedi who will train the kid to use his powers.” 

“Oh,” the mechanic murmured, and her petite figure seemed to deflate a few more inches. “For how long?” 

“Don’t know,” the Mandalorian replied, his voice giving away nothing. “But my ship was destroyed, and your former apprentice mentioned you might have some temporary lodging for us.” 

“Oh, did she?” Peli scoffed as her eyes darted to you, but you tried to silently convey that now was not the time to mess with Mando. Thankfully, she must have picked up on this, because the mechanic turned back to the bounty hunter and nodded. “I might be able to help you. For a fee, of course.” 

“Peli,” you groaned and rolled your eyes. “Come on.” 

“Alright, alright!” The petite woman tossed her hands in the air. “Seeing as you’re homeless and particularly pathetic looking once again, girlie, I’ll offer the same deal I gave you years ago. Food and lodging for labor as long as you’re in my hanger.” 

“Fine,” you sighed, rubbing a hand across your tired face. “I’ll start in the morning. Now, we’ve had a long trip, so can we use your fresher? Maybe get some food?” 

“All of you?” Peli asked with an arched eyebrow, her eyes skipping past you, past Din, and into the bowels of the ship once more. 

You followed her line of sight and saw Boba and Fennec standing in the shadows like imposing sentinels. 

“Yes,” you said as you waved the older bounty hunter and assassin over. “These are our… new friends.” 

“Well, that’s gonna cost you double then,” Peli said matter-of-factly. 

“Actually,” Boba rumbled as his boots clunked down the ramp until he was standing just behind you and beside Din, “it won’t.” 

Peli actually paled a little as she stared up at the tall and intimidating bounty hunter, and her throat clicked as she swallowed. “W-Well, I-I…” 

“It’s fine,” you cut off your former mentor’s stuttering before you turned to address Boba. “You saved our asses a few times, Fett, so I owe you. Won’t be much, but we can at least offer you some food and a bunk to crash in.” 

“Tempting offer, little one.” Boba smirked. “But we have some… unfinished business to attend to out in the Dune Sea.” 

“Oh?” You frowned. This was the first you were hearing of this. “Tonight?” 

The bounty hunter inclined his head. “Sooner the better.” 

“But we just got in,” you argued. “At least stay the night, rest, recharge. Then, if you need some help, we can all go in the morning.” 

“Never said we needed help,” Boba chuckled, the sound rough and gritty like the sandstorms that roamed this planet. 

“Your offer is fairly cute, though,” Fennec added with her own amused smirk. 

“We’ll contact you in a few days, after we’ve all ‘rested’ and ‘recharged,’” the older bounty hunter teased you before his gaze skipped to Din. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep the imp in cold storage. Ping us if the princess shows up.” 

“Princess?” Peli gasped, but you shook your head at her to signal that you’d explain later. 

“Got it,” Din said, reaching out to clasp the other Mandalorian’s arm. “Watch your back. And… thank you. For everything.” 

“Yes, thank you,” you added hurriedly as you jabbed your own hand out. “We wouldn’t have made it without your help or your ship.” 

“Don’t mention it, little one,” Boba chuckled, and he was decidedly gentle when he took your hand and shook it. Then he jerked his head at Fennec, who nodded a silent goodbye before she turned and made her way back into the ship. He began to follow suit before he paused and glanced back at Din. “Ret’urcye mhi, ner vod.” 

Din nodded back. “K’oyacyi, burc’ya.” 

The lilting language of Mando’a sent a shiver up your spine despite the residual desert heat, and you wished, not for the first time, that you could understand the beautiful words. 

With one last nod to the pair of you, Boba Fett climbed up the ramp into Slave 1, and moments later you, Din, and Peli were watching the ship soar off in the direction of the Dune Sea, the moon just barely rising over the far horizon. 

For a moment, you wondered about the bounty hunter’s so called “unfinished business,” but you decided it was probably best not to know. 

“Well!” Peli clapped her hands together loudly, and the pit droids startled to attention from where they’d been hiding in the shadows. “Who’s hungry?” 

~~~ 

“Sorry about that,” you sighed almost a full hour later. “Peli could always talk. I think it’s because she spends most of her days with droids. Seems my absence hasn’t helped much in that regard, either.” 

Din made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat as you led him down the cramped and cluttered halls of Hanger 3-5. The corridor was just big enough for the two of you to walk abreast, but small enough that you kept bumping into the quiet Mandalorian. Once again, he’d barely said a word as Peli talked both of your ears off while she threw some dinner together. You didn’t think the mechanic had noticed, but you certainly had, and the silence was pressing down on you again like a heavy and oppressive blanket. 

“Dank farrik!” you cursed as you tripped over another spare part strewn across the hallway. You could barely see the metal hunk of scrap in the dim lighting, and you went to kick it away in a fit of frustration, but the sole of your boot slid on another unseen piece of something, and you teetered off balance, arms pinwheeling to try and regain your equilibrium. 

“Careful.” Din’s fingers suddenly wrapped around your elbow, and he steadied you without even jostling the tray of food he held for himself in his other hand. 

Sparks arced out from where his skin touched yours, and you found yourself subconsciously leaning into him, realizing how close you were in this tight hallway. Your chests were practically pressed together now that you were facing each other, and as you stared up at your reflection in the visor of his helmet, you recalled what it felt like to kiss him, to touch him. 

The memory seemed like a fever dream, like something you crafted deep in the bowels of your psyche because you were damaged and lonely and horny. It didn’t seem real. 

But it had been. You were sure of it. You had personally experienced the passion behind the bounty hunter’s lips, his tongue, seen your own desire reflected in his dark-chocolate eyes. 

So, why did it feel like a stranger was standing before you? 

The image of him standing on Slave 1’s ramp, bathed in the crimsons and scarlets of sunset, flashed in your mind’s eye, and you wondered if he was like a star going redshift, moving further and further away from your current position. 

A sudden and intense emotion welled up in your chest. It felt hot and pressurized, like a volcano on the verge of eruption, but before it reached its boiling point, Din dropped your elbow and stepped away from you. 

Ice replaced the magma in your veins, and you were left hollow and cold. 

“Thanks,” you muttered around the lump in your throat, turning away from the Mandalorian. “Come on. It’s just through here.” 

You moved down the hall without glancing back, but you heard the bounty hunter trailing quietly after you, your own personal shadow. 

At the end of the corridor, you took a sharp right and came to a door, beige, dirty, and nondescript like the rest of the hanger. You punched the button to the right of the threshold with a little more force than necessary, and the door slid open with a hiss of hydraulics. 

The room beyond was small, cluttered, and dusty, more wires and pieces of machinery piled up in the corners and around a work desk shoved up against the far wall. The bed was centered along the wall to the right, and even though it was your old, shitty mattress, bare of sheets, you almost moaned in relief. That would feel like a luxury after the cot you slept on in the Razor Crest, or the chair you’d crammed yourself into aboard Slave 1. 

Not that you’d get to sleep in it anyway, since you’d probably find a pallet to sleep on and give the bounty hunter the bed, but you shoved the thought and your disappointment away. 

“Sorry about the mess,” you muttered, and you kicked junk out of your way to clear a path to the bed. “I thought Peli would clean up in here after I left, but apparently not.” 

“It’s fine.” Din trailed after you, picking his way carefully over broken metal and sharp wires. 

“Take a seat on the bed or at the desk, whatever you want,” you said as you gestured in either direction. 

The bounty hunter paused about a foot away from you, glanced around for a moment, and then perched himself on the edge of the bed, his plate balanced on the edge of his thigh. His helmet was suddenly level with your belly, and you were close enough and the room small enough that you were almost standing between his legs, and your throat grew tight all over again. 

You waited for him to say something, to look at you, but he did neither. 

“Right,” you muttered as you stumbled back a step. Then you turned and marched stiffly to the door. “Enjoy your plate. I’ll go get you some sheets and pillows and be back in a bit.” 

“Is there a fresher I could use?” he asked from behind you. 

You nodded without turning around, hand poised on the door’s button. “Walk straight out of this door and halfway down the corridor, and it’s the second door on your right.” 

“Thank you,” he said, perfectly polite, and yet it still felt like he was twisting the knife deeper into your gut. 

“You’re welcome,” you replied before you punched the button and let the door slide open with another hiss. “I’ll be back soon with sheets.” 

Then you slipped through the door and jogged down the hall, and when Din called after you, you told yourself it was just your imagination. 

~~~ 

You took a little longer than you intended returning to your room and the Mandalorian within. 

You’d intended to go out, hunt down a pair of clean sheets, blankets, and pillows, and give Din just enough time to eat and put his helmet back on. If he wanted to. But you had no idea what he wanted now. You thought you did, but… 

So, instead, you ran back in the direction of the docking bay. There was a second, smaller fresher there, usually only used in emergencies so it didn’t even have a heated option, but you would make do. You just wanted, no needed, to wash the last two weeks off you. 

You scrubbed your body neon pink in the freezing cold spray, and then you just took a moment to stand there, close your eyes, and gather your thoughts. 

This… silent dance couldn’t go on between you and Din. Something had to give, and you knew it was going to be you. You had to get him to talk, to say something, anything. Living in this limbo was driving you insane. You needed to confront him, even if a part of you was terrified to do so. 

But you had to know the truth. 

If… if he regretted his actions and his words in that storage closet, then fine. You could… you could figure something out. It wouldn’t kill you. You would survive. 

At least you hoped. 

You stalled for a few more minutes, but you knew you were only prolonging the inevitable, so you finally summoned up every scrap of courage you still had and stepped out of the fresher. 

A fresh towel and your old night clothes were folded on the table to the right of the stall, and a small smile tugged at your lips regardless of the pit in your stomach. 

You couldn’t believe Peli had kept your old clothes. You’d have to find a way to thank the mechanic without actually thanking her, since she professed to “hate” sentimentality. 

The oversized shirt and worn-thin pants felt like sliding on a second skin, and you sighed with pleasure as you burrowed into the soft material. Then you spotted a small crate in front of the door, and when you went to investigate, you found it full of sheets, blankets, and pillows. 

“And I’m the sentimental one,” you snorted to yourself as you picked up the crate and hit the door button with your hip. 

You shook your head and chuckled under your breath as you made your way down the silent hallway, and you realized it must have been later than you thought. You couldn’t hear Peli or the droids clanking away near the docking bay anymore, and the kitchen was empty and dark when you passed it, too. Everyone must have turned in or off for the night, and you suddenly felt bad that you’d left Din alone in your messy old room for so long. 

You quickened your pace a little, bare feet slapping against the cool tiled floor, and you took extra care not to cut yourself on any stray scrap. The crate you carried wasn’t particularly heavy, but it was awkward and bulky, so you had to stop frequently to huff, curse, and adjust your grip. 

As you drew closer and closer to your old quarters, though, a creeping dread stole up your legs and settled like lead in your gut. You finally paused just outside the door, and the blood was pounding in your ears, the ends of your hair dripping water down your spine and wracking your frame with shivers. 

A breath shuddered past your lips, and you closed your eyes as you clutched the crate against your hip until your fingers ached. In the darkness behind your lids, you saw Din standing in that storage closet two weeks ago, even inch of him open and vulnerable, his brown eyes like amber that you wanted to be trapped in forever. 

Open your eyes, he had said. Please. Look at me. 

You opened your eyes and felt resolve settle in the line of your spine. You hadn’t imagined that. It had happened. It was real. 

You would no longer pretend like it wasn’t. 

So, you took a deep breath, knocked once on the door, and pressed the button to open it. 

~~~ 

Din sat rigidly on the edge of the bed, in the exact spot you had left him. Except now his beskar was piled up neatly on the work desk in the corner, the silver armor glinting in the faint light of the lamp below the small, round porthole window, and he was wearing a set of unfamiliar brown clothes. The shirt and pant combo were made of simple cloth with little embellishments, but the fabric looked comfortable enough. And it seemed clean, which was a right sight better than anything you or Din owned at the moment. 

The outfit appeared strange when paired with the helmet still perched atop his head, but you didn’t comment on it. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to make you wait so long,” you murmured as you slipped into the room, the door hissing shut behind you. “I got the sheets and stuff but decided to jump in the fresher for a minute.” 

“It’s fine,” Din replied, and he slid to his feet and held out his hands in one smooth motion. “Here.” 

“Thanks,” you said as you passed him the bulky crate, which he lifted with ease and set at the foot of the bed. 

The quiet bounty hunter immediately set about digging through the crate and pulling out various sheets, and you took a moment to glance around the room. Even in the dim lighting, you noticed it was much cleaner than you had left it, scrap stacked in neater piles in the corners. You also hadn’t cut your bare feet on any spare slivers of metal, and you wiggled your toes against the cool floor gratefully. 

“You didn’t have to clean,” you said as you turned back to the Mandalorian, who was currently struggling to wrap one of the sheets around the mattress corners. 

“Didn’t mind,” he grunted before one of the corners pulled free and he was back at square one. “Dank farrik!” 

“Let me help,” you chuckled softly, stepping forward and tugging the sheets from his clenched hands. “This mattress was always a pain.” 

Din shifted back a little to give you room, and you got to work. It had been a while since you’d made this bed, but the muscle memory came back to you easily enough, and a few minutes later you were tossing down the pillows on a freshly made mattress. 

“Ta-da!” You grinned as you glanced over at Din, now sitting at your work desk in an old, beat-up chair, and you realized his feet were also bare. The sight was strangely intimate. You’d never seen that part of him before, and your gaze traced the delicate arches of his soles. 

“What?” the bounty hunter asked after a moment. 

“Sorry.” You shook your head as you snapped back to yourself. “I was just… thinking those clothes look comfortable.” 

“Oh.” He glanced down at himself, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Yes, they are. Peli had one of the droids drop them off after I hopped out of the fresher.” 

“I swear, she’s getting soft in her old age,” you muttered fondly, but then you froze as you watched Din reach up for the edge of his helmet. 

A hiss echoed through the room a moment later, and you dropped your eyes before you could stop yourself. 

“What are you doing?” 

Déjà vu washed over you like a cold wave, sending shivers down your spine and raising goosebumps along your flesh. You had been in this moment before. 

“What?” you asked helplessly, almost like you were following a kriffing script. 

“Is looking at me so offensive?” 

You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. The words echoed in your mind, the taste of them playing across your tongue. 

“You know that’s not true,” you muttered, but you still couldn’t raise your eyes. 

“Then why won’t you look at me?” 

“Because I…” you started, paused, trailed off. Your hands clenched around nothing, empty, and you bent down to smooth a crease out of the bed covers so you wouldn’t start picking at your ruined cuticles. 

“You…?” Din prompted, but his voice was much softer all of the sudden, like it had been back on that cruiser, when it was just the two of you alone in a small room. 

Like you were right now. 

You sighed and collapsed to sit on the edge of the bed, the old frame creaking beneath your weight. You took a moment, two, to gather your thoughts and your courage, and then you looked up at the man across from you. 

His beard had filled out more in the last few weeks, but it still grew in patches across his cheeks and jawline, glints of silver threaded through in between. Those full lips were pressed into a thin line below his dark mustache, and a severe furrow was etched above his dark, fathomless eyes, only made darker by the bruises of insomnia beneath them. 

The sight of him still took your breath away, set your heart to racing, your blood to pounding, but you remembered you had been saying something, and you dug your nails into your palms to ground yourself. 

“Because I don’t know where I stand with you,” you finished as you looked the bounty hunter square in the eye. “I-I don’t know where we stand. Some… things were said and done on Gideon’s cruiser, but these… things haven’t been discussed, so one might think that… someone… regrets these… things.” 

Din frowned at you as he deciphered your jumbled words, the furrow between his eyebrows carving deeper into his skin. “You regret—” 

“No!” you immediately cut him off, your voice a little too loud in the small, dim room. You flushed in the darkness and was grateful he couldn’t see it, your fingers dropping to twist around each other in your lap. “No. N-Not me. I, personally, don’t, uh, regret anything.” 

Some of the creases in the bounty hunter’s face lessened a few degrees, and if the lamp behind him wasn’t throwing so many shadows, you would have sworn you saw relief in his chocolate eyes. 

“So… you think I regret something, then?” he asked after a few beats of silence. 

“Well…” You shrugged, averting your eyes to the far wall. “Do you? I can’t tell. Your hand was on my leg almost the entire way here, but you’ve barely said two words to me since we left Gideon’s cruiser. I… I know you’ve been through a lot, but you don’t have to go through it alone. I can help. If you let me.” 

For a moment, the two of you just breathed in silence, the howling desert winds outside an accompanying lullaby. You fidgeted on the bed, realized you were picking at your nails again, and then shoved your hands under your thighs. With nothing else to distract you, your resolve crumbled, and your eyes skipped back to the Mandalorian. 

Din was staring at you with a tortured expression, the muscle in his jaw ticking sporadically. He met your gaze for a heartbeat, your stomach bottoming out within you, and then he was the one to drop his eyes, look away. 

“I… don’t regret kissing you,” he said at length, and just the admission of the deed was enough to release a riot of butterflies in your stomach. “But the longer I thought about it, the more I realized… it’s unfair to you.” 

The butterflies froze mid-flight. 

“What do you mean, it’s not ‘fair to me?’” you echoed, trying to catch his eye, but he stared resolutely at the floor. 

“It’s not fair,” he reiterated calmly, like he was making any sense at all, but you saw how his knuckles had gone bone bleached white as he clenched his fists in his lap. “I… truly have nothing to offer you except the promise of future violence. I’m… I’m dar’manda. I have no ship, no money, no prospects, no purpose. Bo-Katan will find me sooner or later, and when she does—” 

“Wait.” You held up your hand and stopped him mid-sentence. “Are you serious? You’re back to this again? Din, we talked about this. I told you none of that mattered.” 

“But it does,” he argued, and when his eyes snapped up to meet yours, you were surprised by the fire in them. “It does matter. You’re young, intelligent, talented… Beautiful. You deserve someone you can make a life with. Someone who can provide for you, protect you, cherish you, until you’re both old and gray. All I can offer you is a hard existence that will likely be cut short by the business end of a blaster.” 

You blinked in what felt like slow motion and stared at the Mandalorian across from you for what seemed like an eternity. This was why he’d been pulling away from you? Because he didn’t think he deserved you, was worthy of you? Hysterical laughter bubbled in the back of your throat, but you swallowed it down as you tried to gather the words for your response. 

This ridiculous man of duty, of honor. You loved him with every fiber of your being. 

“Answer me one question,” you said as you met his gaze without flinching. “Do you care for me?” 

Din blinked, the surprise nearly startling the frown right off his lips. “What does that have—” 

“It’s a simple question,” you interjected, and you were impressed with how level your voice sounded, how steady you felt as you stared potential happiness or heartbreak right in the face. “Do. You. Care. For. Me?” 

“I… I…” 

“Are you attracted to me?” you rephrased the question, then followed up before he had a chance to answer. “Do you want me? Desire me by your side? Yes or no? Forget about everything you just said. I only want to know the answers to my questions.” 

Din ground his teeth, clearly frustrated with your steamrolling, but when you simply cocked an eyebrow at him, he abruptly went limp in his chair, the tension wrung from his body like water from a rag. He ran a hand across his tired face, back through his dark hair, still damp and curly with moisture from the fresher, and let his fingers rest on the nape of his neck. The sigh that left him sounded like it was dragged up from the depths of his soul. 

“Yes,” he muttered, sounding more defeated than you had ever heard him. “Yes, cyar’ika. I care about you. I want you. I desire you. Even though I shouldn’t. Even though it’s to your own detriment.” 

You wanted to laugh again but refrained. This poor man thought he was ruining your life when in fact he was doing the exact opposite. 

“Come here,” you said as your heart fluttered like a thousand tiny birds in your chest, and you patted the empty space beside you on the bed. 

The Mandalorian regarded you silently for a moment, debating, but then he sighed again, dragged himself out of the chair, and came to sit gingerly beside you on the foot of the bed. The mattress wasn’t very big, so his arm brushed yours even though he was trying to lean as far away from you as he could. 

“I want you to see something,” you murmured before you shifted slightly to give the bounty hunter your back. Then you reached up to sweep your hair over your shoulder, baring the nape of your neck. “There. Can you see it?” 

“What am I looking for?” Din asked as he leaned over a little, his warm breath ghosting over your skin. “Wait… what’s this?” 

His hand came up, calloused fingers feathering across the base of your skull. 

“That,” you whispered, voice hushed and subdued, “is where Peli dug out my transmitter chip around ten years ago.” 

“Transmitter chip?” He froze behind you. “You mean…” 

“Yup.” You nodded and turned to face him, searching for his dark eyes in the dimness. “I used to be a slave. It was a long time ago, and my life has certainly taken a turn for the better more recently, but let me tell you… I’ve seen and experienced terrible things. The worst of the worst. And that was all before I even met you. I’m not a damsel, Din. I don’t need a protector. And I don’t want some moisture farmer husband to grow gray and bored with. I want you. You and only you, Din Djarin. This is my choice, after so many years of not having any. So, let Bo-Katan do her worst. We’ll deal with her when the time comes, together. And in the meantime, we’ll figure out what to do next. Also together. Okay?” 

Din stared down at you like his brain was still processing everything you just said, so to help him out, you picked up one of his limp hands and pressed it to your cheek. 

“Please stop pushing me away,” you murmured, turning to nuzzle and kiss the center of his palm. “Please.” 

“I’m sorry, cyare,” he rasped, and his voice cracked around the Mando’a word. Then he was leaning forward and pressing his forehead against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your face as his eyes slipped closed. “I’m sorry. I-I’m not any good at this.” 

“That’s okay,” you breathed as you reached up to cup his jaw, shivering at the prickly hairs of his scruff. “We’ll learn as we go. But we have to communicate, to say if something is bothering us or if there’s something we want. That’s the foundation of a healthy relationship. ” 

Din opened his eyes, mere inches from your own, and you realized there were lighter flecks of gold scattered through his irises like stars, like galaxies. “Something we want?” 

The timber of his voice rumbled over you like thunder across the sand dunes, and you shuddered as you leaned into him subconsciously. 

“Y-Yes.” You nodded shakily, tongue darting out to wet your suddenly dry lips. The tips of your ears were warm now, too, and you wondered if he could see how red you were turning. “I-If you want something, all you have to do is c-communicate that clearly.” 

“Hmm…” His hand was still cupping half your face, thumb ghosting over the arch of your cheekbone, the skin warming up degree by degree. Now, his dark-chocolate gaze seemed pitch-black in the shadows of the dim light behind him, and the weight of his stare pinned you to the bed. “I would like to kiss you again, mesh’la.” 

The breath whooshed out of your lungs so fast your head spun, and you used your other hand to steady yourself on his knee. 

“I would very much like that, too,” you breathed. Your heart was pounding so hard in your ears, you barely heard your own words, but that didn’t matter. 

Din heard them because a moment later he was leaning in, one hand rooted on your cheek while the other slipped behind your neck to settle over the small patch of scar tissue at your nape. You shuddered at his touch, but then his lips were softly brushing against yours, and the sparks you felt short-circuited every neuron in your brain. 

This kiss was decidedly smoother than the first one the two of you shared, and you noticed how gently the bounty hunter moved, his lips coaxing yours open with easy motions and soft but insistent pressure. Then his tongue swiped across your lower lip, a move he learned from you, and you moaned into his mouth as you scooted closer, trying to close the distance between you, electricity flooding through all your nerves. 

Suddenly, you were in his lap without remembering how you’d gotten there, your knees on either side of his pelvis, your arms thrown around his neck. Din’s calloused hands had fallen from your face and neck to settle around your hips, and he kneaded them firmly as your tongue delved into his mouth, running along his teeth, across his hard palate, trying to memorize every inch of him. He tasted of Peli’s dinner and a mint cleaner he must have used in the fresher, but underneath that was Din: metal, smoke, and blaster residue. You dug deep chasing that flavor and then pulled it back into your mouth with a gasp, saliva connecting your mouth to his like a living, quivering bridge. 

You slid your tongue out gently, swiping up the translucent thread, and Din groaned deep in his gut as his fingers dug into your hips. 

“Cyar’ika,” he rumbled, looking up at you with a kiss-swollen mouth, spit glistening on his reddened lips. 

“What do you want?” you panted as your hips rocked down absentmindedly. Your hands were buried in his hair, and you gently twisted his soft curls around your fingers. “Tell me, Din. Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.” 

The Mandalorian’s pupils dilated as he licked his lips, his own hips twitching below yours. You could just barely feel something solid beneath you, but you remained poised on your knees until the bounty hunter gave you an answer. 

“I want you,” he rasped after he collected his thoughts enough to respond. 

“Mmm, you’re going to have to be more specific, sweetheart,” you cooed, leaning down to feather kisses across his brow, the bridge of his nose, and each cheek. “Tell me what you want.” 

“I-I want to make love to you.” 

You froze completely, every tendon and muscle in your body going taut as you held yourself above the bounty hunter. You pulled away a fraction, then two, needing to put some distance between you and get some blood running back into your brain. Then you stared straight into Din’s eyes and immediately lost yourself in the abyss of his blown pupils. 

“What did you say?” you mumbled, needing confirmation, half-convinced your lust-addled mind was playing tricks on you. 

But Din didn’t even blink as he repeated, “I want to make love to you, cyare. If… if that is something you want as well.” 

“Yes!” you blurted out practically before he could finish his sentence. Your cheeks flared at your own eagerness, and you bit your lip as you settled your palms flat against his shoulders. “I mean, yes, I do want that as well. Also. With you. I just…” 

You hesitated here, chewing on your words. 

“What is it?” Din prompted, some of the lust fading from his expression as he regarded you seriously. 

You didn’t want to ruin the mood, but you’d told him clear communication was key, so you decided to follow his example and say what was on your mind. 

“I just want to make sure this is something you really want,” you explained as you scooted back a little and sat on the edge of his knees so you could see him clearly. “I don’t want you to regret anything later, especially if, uh, this is your first time?” 

A faint flush of color painted itself across Din’s cheeks, and his eyes dropped to your collarbone. His thumbs were brushing phantom circles over the juts of your hips, and his long eyelashes cast reaching shadows down his cheeks. 

You’d said the last bit like it was a question because it was. The Mandalorian had previously revealed that he’d never kissed anyone before you, but that didn’t necessarily mean he’d never had sex before. He could have kept the helmet on during any prior trysts, for all you knew. 

That image alone— Din, naked save the helmet—was enough to reignite the embers in your belly, but you shoved your own selfish desire away as you focused on the man before you. 

He was silent for a few moments more, but then he nodded his head minutely. 

So, a virgin through and through. 

Wetness abruptly pooled in your panties, and you swallowed back the whimper building in your throat. 

“Is… is that okay?” he muttered when you were quiet for too long, lost in your own lust. 

“V-Very okay,” you said, your voice impressively even given how the blood in your veins had suddenly been replaced with burning magma. “Better than okay. Amazing, really. T-Thank you for trusting me with such an honor. But, just to be sure, I’m going to ask again. Do you want this here, right now, with me? Any part of that equation can change if you want it to, no questions asked.” 

“I’ve dreamt of making love to you for months, mesh’la,” Din confessed, his hands tightening around your hips and tugging you down onto the prominent bulge in his pants, forcing a gasp from your lips. “Almost every day for the past two weeks, in fact. I never let myself believe I’d ever truly have the honor, but if you will give me this gift, nothing in this Maker-forsaken universe will make me regret it.” 

This time, you were unsuccessful in stifling your whimpers. 

“Okay,” you panted, and all the fight went out of you as you began rocking your hips into his and groaning when his hard shaft bumped against your suddenly sensitive clit. “Okay, then yes, please. Make love to me. I want you to make love to me, Din.” 

The Mandalorian growled in the back of his throat, and his fingers dug into the meat of your hips, keeping you rooted against him as he bucked upwards. His bulge dragged up your wet slit and bumped into your bundle of nerves again, and even through the dual layers of fabric you were both wearing, the sensation caused your eyes to roll back into your head. 

“Dank farrik,” Din grunted as he stared up at you, pupils blown wide and darker than the reaches of deep space. “You are so beautiful, cyare. W-What do you want? What can I do?” 

A tendril of confusion wiggled through your lust-addled brain. You wanted him to fuck you. Hadn’t you made that clear? 

But when you shook your head to clear the red haze of desire that had settled over your vision and met the bounty hunter’s eyes, you saw the uncertainty there. The hesitation. Then you thought back to the first time you had sex, and you remembered how you hadn’t known a damn thing. 

This was all new to the Mandalorian. Every moment of it. And you wanted to give him the best, most pleasurable experience possible. 

“Do you trust me?” you murmured as you reached up and cupped his face. 

“Yes,” Din answered without any hesitation, and the look in his eyes was borderline reverential as he turned his head to kiss your palm. “Always.” 

The admission warmed you up like several shots of spotchka, and unable to help yourself, you leaned down and seized his lips in a kiss, delving your tongue into his mouth to remind yourself of how he tasted. 

“Okay, then let me take care of you,” you whispered when you pulled back, feathering kisses across his jawline and down to his neck. 

“But I want to make you feel… good,” he started to argue but gasped when you sucked on his Adam’s apple, his bristles poking at your lips in a way that made you clench your thighs together. 

“This is making me feel good,” you purred as you slowly slid off his lap. “But if you ever want me to stop, just say so, okay?” 

Din nodded mutely, his hands reaching out and trying to grab you before you could move too far away. 

“I need to hear you say it,” you coaxed, and you stepped back into the V of his thighs so he had to crane his head back to look at you. “If you don’t like something, or want me to stop for any reason, you tell me.” 

“Yes,” the bounty hunter rasped, his palms latching on to the curves of your hips again. “I’ll tell you to stop.” 

“Good,” you said as you dragged one of your hands through his hair while the other hand snaked down his chest. 

The fabric of his borrowed shirt was thin enough that you could feel ever bulge of muscle and scar tissue underneath, and Din shivered as you brushed past his navel. Your index finger toyed with the waistband of his pants, the tip dipping just underneath the elastic, and Din’s stilted breaths turned into harsh panting. You knew his throbbing member lied just a few more inches south, but you abruptly withdrew your finger and instead tugged on the hem of his shirt. 

“Can I remove this?” you asked into his ear, tongue coming out to flick against his earlobe. 

“Yes,” Din grunted and tried to tug you back into his lap. 

“Uh-uh-uh,” you chuckled as you widened your stance and straightened up so he couldn’t pull you off balance. “Not yet. Just relax and let me take care of you. I promise to make you feel good.” 

The bounty hunter groaned deep in his chest, but he stopped trying to drag you into his lap. His palms stayed glued to your hips, though, and one of them even slid back to grab hold of your ass cheek. 

His tight grip and the way his eyes were glued to you rapturously made a moan rattle in your throat, and you couldn’t help slamming your lips against his again as both of your hands dropped to yank his shirt up. You broke away to tug the fabric up over his head and toss it to the side, and you’d planned to dive back into the kiss, but the sight of his shirtless torso froze every atom in your body. 

The first thing you noticed was the scars. Dozens of them, big and small and every size and shape in between. They peppered his chest and abdomen like constellations, painting the Mandalorian’s history, drawing a map of every little pain he had ever endured. Most of them were old, the tissue ropy and white with age, but there were some pink ones, still fresh and tender along his arms, over the curve of his shoulder. You wanted to press your lips to every single hurt etched into his skin, memorize the feel of them, learn their stories. Then you wanted to trace them with your tongue while you whispered the tales back to him until he was writhing under you from over stimulation. 

“Pfassk,” you breathed as your eyes tried to absorb every inch of him. “You’re gorgeous, Din.” 

The bounty hunter huffed out a noise between a laugh and a scoff, but his cheeks flushed endearingly as his hands clenched and unclenched in his lap, an anxious habit that was quickly becoming familiar to you. 

“You are,” you pressed, your hand coming up and ghosting just above his clavicle. You paused before you touched him and ducked down to catch his eye. “May I?” 

Din swallowed thickly. “Yes. Please.” 

You smiled at the fact that he verbally responded this time, and then you softly dragged just the tips of your fingers across his collarbone and down to his sternum. His chest was corded with muscle but not overly so, and a smattering of dark hair trailed down to his navel and beyond. 

The Mandalorian shivered beneath your touch, his own hands locking onto his knees with a white-knuckled grip, and his dark eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as his eyes slipped closed. 

“Beautiful,” you murmured as you paused over his heart and pressed your palm into his warm skin. His heart pounded out a staccato rhythm beneath the cage of his ribs, and his breath caught audibly when your thumb brushed over one of his pebbled brown nipples. 

You liked that reaction, so you did it again, and the bounty hunter inhaled so sharply it was almost a whine. 

“Does that feel good?” you asked, looking up to gauge his expression. 

Din’s eyes were dark and unfocused but trained on your face. “Y-Yes.” 

“Do you want me to stop?” 

He shook his head stiffly. “No.” 

His immediate answers and pliancy made you positively drip, and you realized you liked being in control of the Mandalorian. Your Mandalorian. 

It felt like flames were suddenly licking up your spine, the heat pooling in your pelvis before spreading out across your body, leaving every nerve sparking like a pulse rifle in its wake. You were suddenly moving way too slow, and you increased the pressure of your palm against his chest. 

“Lay back,” you instructed, and he complied easily, falling back onto your mattress with a dull thump and a few creaks from the bedframe. 

You paused a moment to take in the sight before you: Din, spread out across your bed like an illicit holotape. The dim desk lamp and faint moonlight streaming in through the window painted the bounty hunter in stark relief, his scars and the ridges of his muscles outlined in shadow. Your eyes followed the dark trail of his hair past his navel, down between the V of his hips, where his borrowed pants were hanging dangerously low. 

Dank farrik, you just wanted to strip his pants off, hastily shove yours to the side, and slide down on the rather large looking cock that was straining against the material confining it. But Din deserved more than a quick fuck, so you took a deep breath, dug your nails into your palms, and let the small bites of pain recenter you. Then, when you were ready, you dropped one knee onto the bed, followed by the other, before you slowly, painstakingly slowly, started to crawl up the Mandalorian’s body. 

After what felt like an eternity, you finally came to hover over his face, your knees pressing into the mattress beside his hips and your hands rooted just above his shoulders. 

“Hi,” you whispered, a smile tugging at your lips as you brushed your nose against his. 

“Hi,” he echoed gruffly, his eyes hyper-focused on your mouth, and you decided to indulge him as you swooped down to sneak a quick kiss. His lips chased after yours as you pulled up and away a moment later, but you placed one of your hands in the middle of his chest and pressed him into the mattress. 

“Stay there,” you said, and his body immediately relaxed into the faded bedcovers. “Good.” 

You darted down to give him one last peck for listening, but then you were crawling back down his body again, coming to a stop when you were face to face with his sternum. You leaned down and pressed an open-mouthed kiss there before you dragged your mouth across his right pec, your lips catching on his curly dark hair. 

Din hissed above you at the sensation, but then he nearly shouted when your hot mouth closed around his nipple. 

“Osik!” The word sounded like gravel coming out of his mouth, and his hand suddenly shot up and buried itself in your hair. He didn’t tug at you, though, just palmed the back of your skull, so you took that as a sign of encouragement. 

You laved your tongue across his nipple, twirling around his areola a few times before you sucked the bud tightly into your mouth, scraping your teeth across the very tip. 

“Dank farrik!” he cursed, and this time he did tug at you. 

You let his nipple fall out of your mouth with a soft plop and looked up at his face. 

His cheeks were flushed under his beard, his lower lip red and swollen like he’d been biting at it to try and keep quiet, his hair sticking up at odd angles from his head. His eyes were two black holes that you wanted to fall into and never leave. 

“Too much?” you murmured before you puckered your lips and blew cold air onto his still slick skin. 

“Yes!” Din gasped, fingers spasming in your hair, his body twitching beneath you. “N-No. I don’t… I… ” 

You paused your ministrations for a moment, repeated your familiar question. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“No.” The Mandalorian tossed his head back and forth, but then he paused and seemed to actually consider your words. His chest heaved upwards with a deep inhale, his eyes finding yours in the dim room. “Actually, y-yes, I want you to stop. But only because I want… more.” 

“More?” you echoed. “Like what? Tell me what you want.” 

“Come here.” Din’s fingers tightened in your hair and gently tugged you up. 

You followed easily, coming to settle on his hips, your knees tight against his sides. You wiggled a little to get comfortable, arched your back, and then licked your lips as you looked down at the man beneath you. 

“What else do you want?” you murmured. 

“This.” His hands dropped to the hemline of your ratty, oversized shirt, tugging upward slightly but pausing when he reached your navel. “I want this off.” 

“Then take it off,” you said, a hint of a challenge in your words, and a moment later you gasped as the garment was ripped over your head. Goosebumps broke out across your skin as the cold air caressed your bare flesh, and you shivered as you started to cross your arms to try and retain some warmth. 

“No,” Din grunted, his hands locking around your wrists. “I-I want to see you.” 

The heat in his voice was enough to chase the worst of your chill away, and you dropped your arms by your side, Din’s hands settling on your waist. You flushed as you watched him devour the sight of you with starving eyes, and then you shuddered when he lifted a hand but paused a breath’s away from touching you. 

“May I?” he asked, but the roughness of his voice made it seem like he was begging. 

“Yes.” You nodded like a bobble-head, pressing your hips down onto the bulge beneath you until the Mandalorian hissed. 

A moment later, his calloused palm closed around your breast, kneading it gently. You keened low in your throat, arching your back into the sensation, and Din took the opportunity to pinch your nipple. 

“Kriff!” you gasped, a bolt of lightning arching from your nipple and straight to your clit. 

Din froze, but before he could ask, you were already rocking into his hand, rolling your hips against his. 

“Good, that felt good,” you babbled as you clasped his palm against your breast. “Don’t stop.” 

“Haar’chak, mesh’la,” the bounty hunter groaned, bucking up beneath you as he tweaked your nipple again. “You are so beautiful. So pretty. I-I can barely think.” 

“So, don’t think,” you panted before you swooped down and slanted your mouth across his. You were a little riled up now, a little sloppy, and saliva coated your lips as you coaxed Din’s tongue back into your mouth. 

He moaned under you, the sound vibrating through your teeth, and then both of his hands locked down onto your hips as he ground his pelvis up into yours. 

“Fuck.” You ripped your mouth away from his, ducking down to lick a line of hot fire up the side of his neck. You paused over his throbbing pulse point and raked your teeth across the sweat-slicked skin, tasting salt, and the flavor made you groan. “Dank farrik, Din, I want to taste you. Can I put my mouth on you? On your cock? Please?” 

You punctuated your plea by sucking a hickey just behind his ear, and the breath stuttered out of the bounty hunter’s lungs. 

“N-No,” he said to your surprise, and then he craned his head out of your reach before repeating himself. “No.” 

You immediately froze above him, the roaring fire in your belly being banked abruptly as you pulled back to meet his gaze. “Are you okay? Did I do something wrong? We can stop.” 

“You did nothing wrong, cyar’ika,” Din rumbled as he reached up to cup your face, but then he looked embarrassed as he averted his gaze. “I just… if you did put your mouth on me, I wouldn’t last more than three seconds.” 

“That’s okay.” You smiled, relieved you hadn’t upset him. Then you turned your head to kiss his palm. “We can always do round two later. I just want to make you feel good.” 

“I want that, too,” he said with a frown, but his expression spasmed and fractured when you suddenly pulled one of his fingers into your hot mouth and hollowed your cheeks. 

You swirled your tongue around his calloused digit, drawing it deep into your mouth before you slowly pulled your head back and dragged your teeth along his skin. You released his finger with a soft pop and then smirked at his dazed look. 

“So, we’re in agreement,” you chuckled. “We both want you to feel good. May I continue?” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Din argued, some of his higher brain function coming back online as he met your gaze. “I want to make you feel good. I-I want to put my mouth on you. Please?” 

You wanted to argue, insist that you take care of him first since this was his first time, but then his nails bit into your hips and he was suddenly rambling. 

“I-I’ve thought about it before. Tasting you. It’s… what I’ve dreamt about most. So, please, cyare.” To emphasize his words, he ground his cock up into your clothed center again, and you groaned at how hard he was, how much he was throbbing at the prospect of eating you out. 

“Kriff, okay, yes,” you panted, planting your hands on his chest and dragging your clit against his shaft once, twice, and then the world was suddenly revolving around you. A gasp was torn from your mouth a moment before your back bounced against the mattress, the frame creaking loudly beneath you, and now you were staring up at a disheveled looking Mandalorian. His hair was a wild halo around his head, his eyes black with desire, and he stared down at you like he wanted to swallow you whole. 

“Is this alright?” he asked, one of his thumbs coming up to brush over your cheekbone. 

“More than alright,” you breathed before you let your knees fall open to either side of you. “Do whatever you want to me. I’ll tell you to stop if I need you to.” 

“Maker,” Din groaned as he dropped his forehead against yours. “You’re going to be the death of me, mesh’la.” 

“Don’t die on me before we even get to the main event,” you snickered, tilting your chin up to press a kiss to his parted lips. 

“No promises,” the bounty hunter grunted before he slowly started to slide down your body. 

He paused for a moment above your breasts, a contemplative look in his eyes, and then he ducked down to drag his tongue across one of your nipples like you had done to him. His tongue was hot, but his spit cooled almost instantly when he pulled his mouth away, and you keened at the dual sensations. 

“I want to do more of that later,” Din growled as he quickly sucked your other nipple into his mouth. He released it just as quickly, leaving you writhing in aborted pleasure. “But there’s something I want more now.” 

His voice had deepened into a sensual rasp, not unlike what he sounded like with his helmet’s modulator, and you shuddered as more arousal leaked out of you. 

The Mandalorian shuffled down the bed until he was actually kneeling on the floor at the foot of the mattress. Then his hands wrapped around your ankles and dragged you closer to him, until your legs were dangling off the bed by your knees. 

Your own hands ripped at the drawstring of your ratty sweatpants, and you hooked your thumbs beneath its waistband, along with your underwear’s. Lifting your hips, you tugged both down around your thighs, and then the bounty hunter took over, dragging the garments the rest of the way down your legs until they fell to the floor. 

And just like that, you were utterly naked before the Mandalorian. Your Mandalorian. 

It had been a while since you’d been naked in front of anyone, though, so you instinctively tried to draw your legs together. 

“No.” Din’s hands curled around your knees and kept them from closing, his touch firm but not demanding. “I want to look at you.” 

His rumbling request turned your bones into jelly, and you went limp against the mattress, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked down at the man kneeling between your legs like you were an altar he had come to worship at. 

“Din,” you muttered in embarrassment when he continued to just stare at where you were slick and exposed. His eyes were dark and hollow and hungry, like a predator that had finally caught its prey. 

“Gorgeous,” he whispered, scooting forward until his chest was flush with the end of the mattress. Then he turned, pressed a line of kisses up your right leg, and slowly coaxed it over is shoulder. He followed the same routine with your left leg, and within moments you were spread out before him like a buffet, your legs dangling behind him as his hands pulled you even closer. “I have never seen anything as lovely as you, cyar’ika. You look like a dream. No… you look better than every dream I’ve ever had.” 

“Well, you’re definitely not dreaming here,” you huffed as you wiggled in his grasp, antsy with desire and with being so spread open and vulnerable. “There’s even a way for you to make sure.” 

You bucked your pelvis upward to emphasize your point, and a small smirk tugged at the bounty hunter’s lips. 

“You mean, like this?” he asked before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your inner thigh. 

“That’s a good start,” you panted, flushing when you felt more slick drip out of you. 

Din must have seen it, too, because he withdrew from your thigh and leaned forward until his warm breath was ghosting over your mound. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t have the patience to tease you, mesh’la,” he growled, and then he tucked both of his hands under your ass to tilt your hips up toward his mouth. “I need to taste you.” 

You opened your mouth to reassure him, say it was okay, but then his tongue dragged up your slit from base to clit, and your vision whited out. 

“Pfassk!” you gasped, body jerking like you’d stepped on a live wire. 

Din pulled away and glanced up at you from between your legs. “Are you—” 

“Yes!” you practically shouted as you tangled both your hands into his hair and tugged him closer. “Don’t stop.” 

The Mandalorian didn’t hesitate to bury his face into your pussy again, and one of his arms pressed down on your hips like a bar of pure beskar to keep you from bucking off the bed. 

“Kriffffffff,” you groaned as he licked at you sloppily. 

Like with kissing, he didn’t have a technique at first, nor did he have any experience to guide him. He struggled to build up a rhythm, saliva making everything slick and slippery between your legs, but he moaned every time he tasted you, and when you twitched because something felt particularly good, he made sure to copy that move until he had perfected it. The tip of his tongue dipped in and out of your folds at sporadic intervals, and you shuddered every time. Then his lips found your clitoris and wrapped around it, but his first pull was a little too sharp, and you hissed as you tugged at his hair. 

He pulled away quickly and looked up at you, his mouth slick with spit and your juices, his lips as red as cherries. 

“Little too rough,” you panted, and you ran your thumb along his bottom lip, smearing the mess there because you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Sorry,” he rasped, nipping at the pad of your thumb. “You just taste too good, cyare.” 

“Maker, Din,” you groaned as you shuddered beneath him. “You keep talking like that, and I’m gonna—” 

You cut yourself off when the bounty hunter suddenly cocked his head at you, hearing the beginning of a weakness and zeroing in on it. 

“Yeah?” he asked as he replaced his mouth with his hand, his fingers dragging through your folds, collecting the slick that had gathered there. “Do you like hearing me talk, cyar’ika? Do you like hearing me say how good you taste? How beautiful you are? How hard you’ve made me? How much I want you?” 

“Fuck!” Your body jerked as his thumb settled over your clit, but he’d learned from his earlier mistake, and the circles he painted over your pleasure node were gentle, almost teasing. 

“Well?” he prompted, and he added a little more pressure behind his touch. 

“Y-Yes, Din,” you gasped, mouth flopping open as you ground down onto his hand. “I love your voice. Lo…ved it through the modulator, love it without it. Just the sound of it gets me… wet most days.” 

“Wet like this?” he growled before he sunk a single finger into your pussy. 

“Yes!” you shouted, and your body bowed as you tried to suck his finger deeper inside you. 

“Haar’chak, you’re drenched,” he breathed, his finger squelching in and out of you at a steady rhythm, but it wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. 

“More,” you moaned as your fingers twisted into the sheets beneath you. “Please, Din.” 

The Mandalorian cursed in a foreign language under his breath, and then he was slipping a second digit in beside the first, slowly delving deeper until his knuckles brushed up against your slit. 

“Krifffffing helllllll,” you groaned through gritted teeth. His fingers were thick and calloused inside you, and he rocked them gently back and forth for a moment to let you adjust to them. Then he began to explore a little, spreading his fingers apart, pressing them into your hot and fluttering walls, and the coil in your gut wound tighter and tighter with every caress. 

“Will you cum for me, mesh’la?” he asked as his fingers found that one spongy spot inside you and pressed. 

“Oh!” you gasped, your eyes flying open as electricity arced down your spine. Your hands scrambled for purchase on the bed, your hips trying to writhe out from beneath you. “D-Din. I… I’m…” 

“That’s it,” he murmured before he settled this thumb over your clit again and rubbed you in soft, tight circles. “Cum for me. Please. I want to see you, feel you. Cum for me.” 

“Dinnnnn!” you screamed as your orgasmed ripped through you like a rogue wave, carrying you out to sea. You were vaguely aware of clenching around the bounty hunter’s fingers, of liquid coating your thighs, but your vision tunneled like you were making the jump to lightspeed, your ears ringing until you could hear nothing else. 

Eventually, you drifted back down to the planet, your senses returning to you in pieces. You felt your body lax and limp against the bed sheets a few moments before your ears popped and let you hear the harsh pants sawing in and out of your chest. Then you caught a whiff of the tangy scent of your own arousal, and when you blinked open your eyes, you saw the Mandalorian sucking his fingers into his mouth, sucking the taste of you off them. 

“Maker,” you cursed, and you tossed your arm up over your eyes. “I think you’re going to be the death of me.” 

“I thought you said ‘not before the main event.’” 

The bounty hunter had a strangled quality to his voice, so you drew your hand away from your face and cocked your head to look at him. He was kneeling up on the foot of the bed now, knees spread shoulder-with apart, his pants straining around his cock. His chest was flushed and so were his cheeks, and he was still licking his lips like he was trying to swipe up every drop of your essence. 

Even though you’d just climaxed, heat trickled through your veins again, and you grinned up at Din. 

“You’re right,” you said as you reached your arm out toward him. “Come here.” 

The Mandalorian took your hand, and then you were tugging him down on top of you, giggling when his body collided with yours and pressed you into the mattress. Your giggles quickly turned to moans, though, when you felt the hot line of his cock up against you, and you shifted to shove him down onto the mattress instead. 

“I want to ride you,” you panted. “Can I?” 

“Dank farrik, yes,” Din hissed as you started tugging at his pants. 

You ripped the offending garment open in record time, dragging them down his legs and yanking them off with a huff. You were too turned on now to study him, but you didn’t think the bounty hunter minded as you slid back into his lap, your slick pussy nestled against his mushroom shaped head. 

“Tell me what you want,” you murmured for the last time as you stared down into Din’s dark-brown eyes. 

“I want to be inside you,” he replied instantly, no hesitation. His hands clamped down around your hips, and his pelvis twitched beneath you, bumping the head of his cock into your clit. 

“Good boy,” you sighed without thinking, and you thought you heard Din gasp at your words, but then you were sliding down his shaft, and any other thoughts went out the window. 

He was thicker than you’d anticipated, the head burning as it parted your folds and slid inside you inch by inch. You whimpered as you threw back your head, grinding your hips down to get more of that delicious stretch, but Din suddenly cursed and dug his nails into your hips so hard you were sure he drew blood. 

“Stop, stopstopstopstop,” he babbled, and you froze halfway down his dick. 

“Is something wrong?” you panted. “Am I hurting you?” 

“No, osik,” he spat through gritted teeth, and he slammed his eyes closed as he ground his jaw. “You just… feel too good, cyar’ika.” 

“Oh,” you breathed, but the heady knowledge that you already had the bounty hunter so on edge made your pussy flutter. 

“Don’t.” Din’s hands tightened on your hips. “Don’t move.” 

He was for sure leaving bruises now, but all you could do was moan. 

The pair of you stayed frozen like that for what seemed like an eternity, but eventually his grip on you slackened, and some of the tension bled out of his body. 

“Okay,” he huffed, relaxing slightly into the bed. “Okay, y-you can move. But slowly.” 

“I can do slowly,” you said, and to prove your point, you resumed sliding down his cock. 

Inch-by-kriffing-inch. 

Several lightyears passed in which you slowly started to lose your mind, but suddenly, your ass bumped into the Mandalorian’s hips, and you realized he had bottomed out inside you, the head nudging just shy of your cervix. You whimpered as you clenched around him, rocking ever so slightly. You had never felt so full, and every time he breathed he was brushing up against another magic spot inside you that made you see stars. 

“Stop, stop,” he said again, and his hands locked you down against him once more. 

You moaned as you settled in is lap, but you didn’t move any more than that. 

“Sorry,” he rasped as he blinked up at you, his eyes hazy and unfocused. “I… didn’t know it would be so intense.” 

“Don’t apologize,” you murmured, trailing your fingers across his chest before you planted your palm over his hammering heart. “You feel so good buried deep inside me. Part of me wants to keep you there forever.” 

“Don’t say things like that,” he groaned, and he knocked his head back into the pillow, every tendon in his neck standing out in stark relief. “I’m on a hair trigger here.” 

“I know.” You smirked as you fluttered your walls around him again, and his hissed as he bared his teeth. “I like it. I like seeing you so close to coming undone and knowing that I did it. In fact, I kind of what to see how long I can keep you like this, teetering on the edge of oblivion.” 

Din’s eyes found yours in the semi-darkness, and your heart stuttered in your chest at the naked adoration you saw there. 

“Do with me what you will, cyar’ika,” he said. “I’m yours. Darasuum.” 

You didn’t know the exact meaning of the last Mando’a word, but something in the reverent way he said it helped you to understand. 

“Dank farrik,” you cursed as his words caused more of your juices to trickle out along his shaft, and you leaned down to crash your mouths together as his cock throbbed deep within your core. 

Time lost all meaning after that. 

You rode Din’s cock in small rocking motions, never going far before you were slotting him fully home again. Your hands were planted on his chest for leverage, and you ground your pulsing clit into the coarse hairs at the base of his member until his pelvis was nearly soaked in your arousal. 

Every few minutes, sometimes sooner, the Mandalorian would go ridgid beneath you and lock your hips against him, his breath harsh and jagged as it sawed its way past gritted teeth. In these moments, you held your lower body still, but you made sure to drag your fingers up his torso or wind them through his hair, and all the while you kept up a running commentary of how kriffing incredible the bounty hunter was. How handsome. How strong. How brave. The Mandalorian came undone a little more with each compliment and praise that slipped past your lips, and you vowed to yourself that you would spend the rest of your life showering him with all the kind words he deserved. 

Eventually, Din’s hand drifted from your hip and angled down to your clit, where his thumb settled firmly. 

“Ooooh.” You shivered and tossed your head back, rolling against his hand as you rocked on top of his cock. “R-Right there.” 

“Feel good?” the bounty hunter rumbled. 

“M-mmhmm,” you hummed, and every nerve ending was alight with pleasure from drawing this out for so long. “I-I think… I think I’m gonna cum.” 

“Really?” he asked with an edge to his voice, and his hips jolted beneath you, digging his cock into your G-spot. 

“Dank farrik, yes!” you gasped as stars started to dance before your eyes. You slid higher off his cock than usual, the head catching on your twitching entrance, and then you slammed your hips back down and buried him deep inside you again. “So close, I’m so close… A-Are you close?” 

“Yes,” Din bit out, and suddenly the last shred of his restraint snapped like an overtaxed rubber band. One of his hands slapped down on your thigh while the other one kept you anchored at the waist, and then his hips were bucking straight off the bed, taking you up into the air with him. 

“Din, Din, oh, Maker, kriff! I-I’m cumming. Cum with me. Ohhhhh, c-cum inside me, cum inside me, cuminsideme, Dinnnnnnnnn!” Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you raked your nails down the bounty hunter’s chest and hurtled over the edge, and he shouted your name as he thrust up once, twice, three times before collapsing back against the bed and taking you with him. 

You whimpered as you felt his shaft throb deep inside you, painting your spasming walls with his cum. The warmth of his seed flooding deep into your womb triggered a second, somewhat smaller climax, and you whined and writhed on top of the groaning Mandalorian as he clutched you against his chest. The two of you twitched against each other for several minutes as you both came back down, and you sighed as you tucked your head under his chin. 

Silence stretched and undulated as you both regulated your breathing again, and then Din started absently tracing his fingers across your back. You couldn’t tell if he was writing words or painting symbols, but the sensation was soothing, and you pressed a kiss into the hollow of his throat. 

“Was… that okay for you, cyare?” Din murmured a few minutes later, the words nearly lost in your hair. 

“Sorry, my processing unit is currently offline due to a circuit-frying orgasm,” you muttered in a droid-esque voice. “Please inquire again later.” 

The Mandalorian chuckled beneath you, his laughter vibrating through your body, and you groaned as the slight movement jostled his softened member out of your sensitive entrance. 

“Krifff,” you hissed as you felt a rush of liquids gush out of you, running down your abused slit and pooling on the bounty hunter’s pelvis. You flushed with embarrassment and cleared your throat, pressing your warm face into his skin. “Lucky thing I have the implant because it seems like you made a mess.” 

“I think you had something to do with it, too,” Din said, and when you lifted your head, you found him smirking at you. 

The expression was so carefree, so relaxed, unburdened, and happy, your heart felt like it grew two sizes in your chest. You wanted to keep the bounty hunter looking like this forever, but sadly forever was never as long as you would like. 

“Regardless of blame, it looks like we’ll both have to hop back in the fresher,” you sighed as you started to push yourself up off him. 

“In a minute,” he muttered, wrapping his arms around your back and tugging you down flush against his chest again. You could feel the slick mess of bodily fluids between you, but instead of disgusting you, the sensation made your core throb again. 

“We’re gonna wake up stuck together if we fall asleep like this,” you warned, but you were already snuggling against him as you tucked your head under his chin again. 

“Good,” he replied, his voice soft and slightly slurred with encroaching sleep. “Then you’ll truly be stuck with me.” 

“D-Did you just make a joke?” you snorted quietly. “A pun? I’m not sure which.” 

“We can decide in the morning,” he sighed before he pressed a kiss to your brow. “Goodnight, cyar’ika. And… thank you. For everything. That was… better than I had ever dreamed.” 

“I’m glad, but you don’t have to thank me,” you murmured into is clavicle as sleep started to weigh down your eyelids. “I love you, and I want to make you feel good. Happy. Simple as that.” 

“Only you would call love simple,” Din chuckled, and his fingers began to card through your hair. 

“Mmmmm,” you hummed. You tried to think of a more coherent response, but exhaustion was tugging at your limbs, and the Mandalorian’s stroking hand was like a lullaby you had no defense for. 

You spiraled off into oblivion wrapped in the bounty hunter’s arms, but just before you slipped away entirely, you could have sworn he whispered something into your ear. 

Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, riduur. 

The End

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Mando’a Glossary: 

Ret’urcye mhi -- Goodbye; literally: “Maybe we’ll meet again” 

Ner vod – “My brother/sister”; colloquially also “my friend” 

K’oyacyi – “Cheers!” Can also mean “Hang in there” or “Come back safely.”; literally a command: “Stay alive!” 

Burc’ya – friend 

dar’manda -- a state of being “not Mandalorian”; not an outsider, but one who has lost his heritage, and so his identity and soul 

cyar’ika - darling, beloved, sweetheart 

cyare – beloved, loved 

mesh’la – beautiful 

Osik – shit 

Haar’chak – Damn it. 

Darasuum - eternal or eternally, forever 

Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum – I love you 

Riduur – Spouse, partner, husband/wife 

~~~~ 

Basic Glossary: 

Pfassk -- An adaptable expletive, as in “What the pfassk is going on?”

Dank farrik: Another expletive 

[katie-writes24]

Cursed Blessings

Pairing: Thomas Jefferson x reader

Warnings: MAJOR MENTIONS/BRIEF SCENE OF RAPE! Language, angst, alcohol, suggestive material, and this is just really sad. 

Chpt. 2

Okay, PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS! I don’t think the scene is graphic, however it’s there. If you feel that I should put a stronger warning, please don’t be afraid to dm me. 

So, my first ficlet, where do I begin? This story was supposed to be a cute little scene with Thomas and an ex lover but omg, I went so off track but I hope yall like it. I did lots of scheming with this fic and @tinywhim I cannot thank you enough for all the help! Brainstorming with you gives me so much more motivation to actually finish writing stories ngl. But yeah, please be wary. Next part will be much lighter I promise. Let me know if you want to be tagged, I’m tagging my original tjeff taglist. Feedback is always appreciated! And....hope you guys continue this story with me! Enjoy!

Y/N didn’t believe in soulmates, even if she was surrounded by so many people who seemed to be destined to each other. Her parents were married for 27 years, never once betrayed each other, they even died together. Even though her mother would call them soulmates, she didn’t believe it, she just thought they were two people who found an undeniable love. 

It was this phrase that was tossed around so much that it was starting to seem like a far off fantasy. 

That changed when she met Thomas. 

He was brilliant, charming, he wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. He had little quirks about him that she knew was just for her to see. Y/N liked when he would tell a story and he would get this fond look in his eye, and start scrunching up his nose the faster he talked. To her it was adorable, to him it was stupid. 

Thomas made her feel safe, she’s never felt like that before. 

They met at an art exhibit, and the two spent the whole night talking about different pieces and ended up going to a small diner, looking ridiculously overdressed. She could see her mother gush about how romantic it was, how she could picture the wedding now. 

Y/N still didn’t believe in soulmates, but she did start to imagine a future with the man. 

Two years in, they were finally thinking about moving in together. Thomas found a nice place in Charlottesville, not too far from his family’s estate. It felt like a perfect dream. They were going to close on it at the end of summer. 

It was all perfect timing. The Jefferson's always threw a big charity event in July, the house would be filled with hundreds of snobby, rich attendees. Trying to fill in a conversation with any of them bored her to death, but Y/N couldn’t complain because while they had no genuine personality, they did have money. The event usually does really well each year, and this year was no different. 

Y/N spent that whole weekend at the Jefferson's estate, helping set up decorations and enjoying her time with him and his father. Ever since Thomas’s mother passed, Peter hasn’t been as social with outsiders. 

And even though she had heard some stories from the past that gave her dreaded chills, the man seemed to mean well. Thomas had told her that it was all in the past, and that he still cares for his father, so she shouldn’t hold it against him if Thomas wasn’t. 

The night after the fundraiser she learned more about Peter Jefferson. He liked to golf, he enjoyed telling awful jokes, and he liked to drink. 

He drank a lot that night. 

Y/N was in the study, reading the final chapter of her book on the couch. Thomas had gone out with James for the night, seeing that he would be leaving to go up to New York till the end of summer. It was peaceful; she was wrapped in a large blanket, feet on the table with a mug of coffee and a good book. 

The characters were clashing, it was something she hadn’t expected. She leaned forward and focused more on the words, not noticing the door open and shut quietly behind her. She only lifted her head when she felt cold fingertips run up her backside. 

Y/N turned around quickly, noticing Peter barely standing on his own. 

“Peter, are you alright? You don’t look too good.” His eyes were foggy, there was a stain across his shirt and he hiccupped to himself as he laughed. 

“Well, I think...you do, darling.”

“Do what?”

“You look..good, very-very good if I might add.” He staggered into the seat next to her and immediately put his hand on her thigh. 

“What are you doing?!” She pushed his hand off and he chuckled again. 

“You know, Thomas...my son he sure did pick out...a beautiful lady. And, heh, at least he did something right, he did something good in his life. But that boy, he still doesn't have the mindset yet...he doesn’t see that-” Peter drifted off as he looked like he was about to vomit all over himself. 

It was an opportunity, it was the perfect time to leave. 

“He’s so blinded by your wit that he doesn’t see that you’re taking as you please, and maybe not even to him alone, right huh?” He grabbed Y/N’s calf as he tucked himself into her neck. 

“He doesn’t see the way you dress, the way you look, how you’re just asking for it! Is he not giving you enough attention, darling?”

His hands felt slimy and unfamiliar, and they were certainly unwanted. 

But what was Y/N to do? She could’ve easily ran out the room. The man was drunk, she could’ve easily shoved him, hit him hard enough, and he would probably stumble and she could get out. She could call Thomas-

Thomas. 

Thomas kept her safe, Thomas promised her that she was his and nobody else’s. Thomas left the house, Thomas brought her into an abuser’s house. 

Thomas was going to be so upset. 

And she could avoid this, Y/N could put an end to this hand running up her shorts. 

But she was numb, she was lost. All she could see was Thomas, all she could think was Thomas. But that certainly wasn’t Thomas’s hands, not his soothing touch, not his caring praise. It was Peter’s, and it was disgusting. But if she ended this, what would he say to Thomas? 

By the time she could feel her feet, it was already over. 

Y/N sat up to her pants on the floor along with a spilled coffee and puke smears on the rug. Her bones were cold, but that blanket had a white stain that made her uncomfortable. She looked and found the door closed. 

As if he never even came in. 

Maybe it was seconds, maybe it was hours, but when she finally sat up her whole body weight caved in on her. 

She had to clean up the mess, she needed to get rid of the evidence. 

She had to clean herself, she felt like this wasn’t her body. She was violated, she was abused, she was used. 

Y/N took the longest shower of her life, whether it be from her crying or trying to disinfect the feeling of hands crossing her torso. 

She went to bed alone, and surprisingly, sleep caught her quick. When she woke up, she was still alone. No Thomas, no Peter. 

Her emotions ran over her again and she sobbed gently into her pillow. She was too afraid to leave the bed, too afraid to go downstairs and see what broke her, is breaking her. It was too much. 

When her tears finally ran dry, there was a knock on the door. Immediately, she pulled her knees up to her chest and felt her heart jump. She stopped breathing until she heard her boyfriend’s voice. 

As he walked in, he had bloodshot eyes, wearing the same clothes as the night before. 

“Sorry I didn’t come back home. I drank a little too much, crashed at James’s place.” 

I drank a little too much. 

“It’s okay,” Her voice cracked and she hoped he didn’t notice it. Y/N couldn’t bear with his overwhelming care right now, she wasn’t ready for questions. 

“Hey, so, turns out I do have to go in tomorrow, and early at that. So, what do you say getting a head start on the drive back?” Raising a brow, Thomas had a soft look on his face. He looked so different all of a sudden. 

“I would like that.” Y/N put on her best smile. 

But she couldn’t hold it forever, she would eventually give herself away, and of course after being together for a couple of years, Thomas would know a difference. The lack of hugs, the uncharacteristic quiet, working, what she claimed, “overtime.”

They were signs. 

The next few weeks, he made an effort to do better, try harder. Thomas booked reservations at the most expensive restaurants, he surprised her at work on Wednesday’s, he made sure to leave the office on time so he could cook dinner for Y/N, always asking how her day was. 

He said those three words at every chance he got because he needed her to know, he needed her to understand that whatever was happening, whoever she was seeing, they wouldn’t love her like him. 

It wasn’t enough. 

“Is there someone else?”  

Y/N turned to look at him, luggage in hand. She’s never seen him so broken, so lost. He had stopped crying, clinging to himself as if to hold him close to the ground. Those eyes, those deep brown eyes that she fell in love with...they were too similar. 

It was like she was back on that couch, seeing those drunken orbs that ruined her forever. 

Apparently, her silence was his answer. Thomas nodded his head sadly and walked back towards the bedroom, leaving Y/N stuck to the doorstep. 

~~~

“It could turn out to be a blessing.”

Her jaw was shut tight, hand over her mouth, restricting even the tiniest sob from letting loose. 

“No matter what happens, we’ll help you out….” 

This town wouldn’t let her live peacefully if she dared approach one of those buildings. 

“Have you at least called the father?”

Peter gave her a check and a note two days ago. 

“Why don’t you just come up here? We can figure this out together.”

Her phone dinged, and there was a ticket to New York staring at her. 

“Whatever you need, whatever you decide, we’ll support you, Y/N.”

She was gonna need it. 

Jefferson Taglist: @notebookgirl30 @dontblinkumightmiss @checkurwindow @einfachniemand @astralaffairs @daveeddiggsit @ramp-it-up @ohsoverykeri-blog @i-know-i-can

[gayleftistlukeskywalker]

the stars pale beside your might ch1

ch1

words: 2k

a/n: can i offer you some nice bobin fic in this trying time? this will be a multi-chapter fic with angst, mandalorian diaspora, and lots of slow-burn. upates will most likely be sporadic, but let me know if you would like to be tagged!

cw: drunk din, spoilers for season 2 finale

ao3 link

The whir of the ship shifting into hyperdrive barely registered on Din’s mind, and neither did the ache of bruises forming underneath his beskar armor. A ghost of a feeling, a soft hand on his cheek, and a deep wrenching in his chest, rolled over and over again in his mind. He had not asked Shand or Fett where the Slave I was going before they departed, and with Shand co-piloting in the cockpit, Din was left alone in the cabin with only his thoughts to keep him occupied. Bounty hunters were not usually the type to understand companionship, or the loss of it; but Mando’ade were more than just mere bounty hunters.

------

When Boba’s ship had docked at the star cruiser, he had been surprised to see the sordid looks on the faces of the ragtag group that Din had assembled. When Boba looked to Din, he saw no child in his arms, nor clinging to his leg.

“The child?” He asked, addressing no one in particular.

Din merely shook his head, as his companions looked on, their eyes shining with compassion. Boba gave a somber nod in response, not prodding for details, but assuming things had taken a turn for the worst.

------

A bump on the shoulder startled Din, and he breathed in sharply, as if the sheer pressure of his thoughts had threatened to drown him. He hadn’t noticed the ship’s landing, or the cabin doors opening. Boba Fett, in full armor, stood on the ground below, and Din noted the bright light of harsh sun, and the dry heat now sweeping into the hold, palpable even through layers of armor.

“Fennec, with me,” Boba directed, gesturing to his side. Fennec nodded, and stepped off the ramp and onto the ochre-colored sand, her signature sniper rifle in tow.

“Shand and I have some unfinished business to attend to. You can either stay with the ship or we can part ways, but as far as I’m concerned, my debt to you is now paid.”

Din’s mind flicked through the events of the past few days; his foundling gone, his ship destroyed, his face. It felt as if his boots were welded to the metal of the ship's cargo ramp, and in the end all he could manage was a nod to Fett. Boba returned the gesture, and their heavy footfalls in the sand slowly faded into nothingness, leaving Din alone with his thoughts once again. He sank slowly back into the seating of the cabin, and let the door close, leaving him with only the glow of the overhead light.

It was over half a rotation by the time the door opened again, flooding the hold with fresh air, scented with dry earth. Fennec stood in the doorway, her eyes widening slightly with surprise at seeing the Mandalorian, his armor reflecting the glow of the moonlight on the sand.

“So, you’re still here after all, huh? Looks like I owe Boba some credits” she mused. When all she received was a blank stare from Din, she shrugged. “I’m here to move the ship, Boba wants to speak with you when we land.”

The first thing Din saw upon stepping out onto the desert was the warmth of lights shining out from a large, regal looking tower. Din breathed in the dry air, and glanced overhead at the sky, its moonlight casting long shadows onto the sand. He recognized the triple moons of Tatooine, though the structure perched on the cliff before him, it’s towers stretching overhead, was not familiar to him. As Din stepped into the throne room, trailing along Shand, he noticed how punctuated their footsteps were in the silence.

Jabba’s palace, usually a hive of activity, bounty hunters blowing off steam with their newly earned credits, or else getting into scuffs and negotiations ending in blaster fire, now lay quiet. There was only one figure Din saw upon entering the vacant throne room. Boba’s moss green armor decorated the sand-colored throne he now sat upon, like a jewel beset in a royal crown. Boba stood to greet the bounty hunters, his arms outstretched in welcome.

“Ah, you’re just in time for the celebrations,” he bellowed, casually walking over to the bar and removing his helmet, which he set down next to the various bottles of liquid.

“Spotchka?” he asked, offering a small glass of glowing liquid to Din. The mandalorian was quick to accept, raising his helmet just enough to down the liquid in one go. Boba nodded with approval before seating himself at the bar, and gestured to the space next to him. Din obliged, straddling the stool and propping his elbows up on the counter.

“I thought you said your debt to me was paid,” Din questioned, his head turning towards Boba, who was reaching across the bar to grab the spotchka bottle.

Boba chuckled, “I’m simply celebrating a victory with a fellow warrior.” He downed another shot of the glowing liquid, and promptly poured another for his drinking companion. It was only now that Din noticed the absence of Shand, who had apparently vacated the throne room without Din noticing. He and Fett were completely alone. Had Boba requested to speak with Din alone?

“This little hideout is going to be the base of my operations. Soon I will have work for every bounty hunter from here to the Inner Rim,” he mused, the throaty rasp in his voice giving a sharp edge to his words. “Plenty of high-paying jobs for a man of your skillset.”

Din considered this for a moment. Years of experience in this line of work had made him accustomed to people with ulterior motives, although he could not think of an angle that Fett might be trying to work from him.

“Thank you, Fett.” Boba reached to fill up both their glasses with his gloved hands. The air was comfortably still as they both drank.

“I expect you’ll be needing a new ship. Some weaponry,” Fett began, casually swirling the leftover liquid in his glass. “As it happens, I’ve recently come into some assets that would be of use to you.”

“I can’t accept charity like that,” Din responded. Truthfully, he was quite low on credits, having not been able to take many paying jobs the past few weeks. He could get a ship, he thought, but scraping up the credits planet-side on Tatooine would be quite an undertaking.

“Don’t think of it as charity, think of it as an advance. I get you up and running, you do some work for me until it’s paid off.”

Din exhaled, fixing his attention to his empty spotchka glass.

“It’ll be hard work,” Boba continued. “I’m not in the business of giving anything away for free.” He let his words hang in Din’s mind while the helmeted man worked his jaw, considering his options. Bounty hunting was a solitary occupation, it was every man for himself, and if you slipped up, the consequences were yours alone to deal with. But here Fett was offering him a hand, an easy way out. Fett had no real reason to put trust in Din, and for that matter, Din had no reason to trust Fett, so why take such a risk?

“Ok,” Din grunted, “I accept.”

“There’s a good lad. You’ll be richer than you ever were taking jobs from the Guild,” Boba exclaimed, clinking his glass to Din’s.

There was an easy silence as both men drank their fill, the cool night air was sweet against the scent of dank earth and booze.

“Fennec told me what happened on the star cruiser,” Boba said, breaking the silence, his voice suddenly low, and almost gentle. Though perhaps that was just the spotchka addling Din’s perception.

Din swallowed, Shand must have told him everything.

Boba continued, “It’s no easy thing, to defeat an imperial commander like that in single combat. You should be proud.” He turned to Din now, fixing his gaze into the dark eyesight of Din’s helmet.

“I don’t feel proud,” Din blurted out, almost taken aback by his sudden honesty. The spotchka was settling in his blood quicker than he realized.

“That sword you’re carrying is no mere battle trophy, as I’m sure you realize. What I would have given to see the look on the princess’s face when you strode in wielding that,” he chuckled darkly.

“I have a feeling she’ll be back for it sooner or later. Probably sooner.” Din paused, licked his lips. “I just- I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he muttered, averting his gaze from Fett’s bare eyes, which now felt as though they were piercing through his armor.

Boba poured Din another generous glass of the glowing liquid in response, and Din was quick to toss it back.

“Perhaps not, but such is the way of the galaxy, Mand’alor,” Boba teased. Din swung his head to face Boba, the lines of Din’s face creasing with exasperation underneath his helmet. Fett only shot him a sly smirk in response, shifting himself in his seat, his arms coming to rest casually on his thighs.

“I’m not-” Din started, but his sentence only ended in a groan. All he had ever known was his covert, his bounties, his ship; that was all that had mattered, until the kid.

Din shook his head, suddenly feeling as though his body was made of lead. “The foundling,” he started, his lips struggling to form the proper words, “He was… reunited with his own kind, with the jedi.”

Boba’s stomach twisted at the mention of the jedi, his blood suddenly running hot in his veins. If Din noticed the quick flash of anger on Boba’s face, it was gone just as suddenly as it had come, and Din did not give it any thought.

The bald man nodded, exhaling through his nose. “I see.” He grabbed for the spotchka bottle once again, filling up both of their glasses to the brim. Boba raised his glass above his head. “Then, may he grow strong, and make his father proud,” he pronounced, and drank deeply from his glass. Din quickly followed suit, and the two men sat for a moment in silence, letting the effects of the drink wash over them like a fog.

“I don’t know if.... If I did the right thing,” Din breathed. With his defenses down, there was nothing to stop the grief from bubbling up from deep within his chest. A strange feeling seemed to grip Din from the inside, as if he might confess all his sins to this man he barely knew. He felt so alone without his covert, adrift in the vast galaxy without hands to guide him. Caring for the child had all but consumed his waking thoughts. What had once been “return the foundling”, had unwittingly become, “care for the foundling”. Din had not thought about any kind of after.

Boba chewed over his words for a moment. He was not accustomed to people seeking sage wisdom from him, unless it was about the most effective way to fire a blaster through someone’s heart from half a klick away.

“You followed the path that was set for you, that’s all there is to it,” the scarred man said quietly.

Din looked deeply into his glass. “What would you have done?”

Boba exhaled through his nose, “My path is different from yours.”

Another glass deep and Din found himself suddenly choking on nothing but thin air, the events from the past few days suddenly catching up to him all at once, crowding his lungs. Images of his early childhood flashed through his mind, his birth father, looking down at him, silhouetted by the sky. His buir, lifting him above the rising flames and smoke. Din hardly even glanced at the glass being offered to him before he downed it. His head was swimming, and he lacked feeling in his face. Heat pricked the corner of his eyes, and hot tears began trailing down his cheeks completely unwillingly. He was far too drunk to consider being ashamed.

[happy-beeeps]

IDDD 5:Flashback

A/N: HEY GUYS I’M BACK! I’ve missed writing so much and I am happy to pick up with this series! We are cooking and cruising through season one so I can start getting to season 2, I’ve already got so many good ideas. This takes place during episode 5, so content warnings! 

Warnings: violence (light I don’t write action well) references to guns, space slavery, kidnapping (flashback) brief suggestion of SA (never overtly mentioned but it is there if you squint so please be careful!), me divering from canon. Angst with a good chunk of fluff at the end also sorry there’s a few Y/N uses because I genuinely don’t know what to put in place of a name

Summary: A bounty on Tatooine goes horribly wrong, leaving Din and reader to talk about their feelings and fears. Part 5 of my series!

* * * You hated being back in Tatooine. The air, the sand, the suns, everything about this planet made your skin crawl. You hadn’t told Mando about your past, there had never really been a great moment too, and now you were really wishing you had. “We just need to stop here for a few days. Get some repairs, maybe do a job, nothing too long.” he said as the system came into view.

“Ok, can we just make it quick, I hate it here.” “Seems like you have a vendetta against all sand planets.” “Not all. Just this one.” You murmured as you chewed on the fat of your lip uncomfortably. Not even the baby’s tiny hands and smile could distract you from the sick feeling in your stomach. “If you need repairs, I know someone here who’ll do it cheap. Just trust me.” Mando glanced over at you for a moment, before reaching out and placing a hand on your thigh. You felt the weight of his touch burn through your clothes. “Something’s off with you. You talk about it when you wanna talk about it. Just give me the coordinates for your friend.” You smiled at the gesture, then cautiously placed a hand on top of his. “I will, you deserve my story too.” He reciprocated the gesture with a gentle squeeze, and headed towards the coordinates of your friend.

* * *

When you stepped off the ship into the blistering sunlight of Tatooine, the only face who could put you at ease was Peli Motto. The older woman’s curly hair practically bounced as she and her crew of pit droids ran towards the Razor Crest. “Y/N!” She yelled, grabbing your elbows before embracing you tightly. “Hi Peli, I’ve missed you.” You sighed into her shoulder. Meanwhile behind you, Mando was causing a ruckus trying to shake the droids away from his ship. “Hey! No droids!” He yelled, causing Peli to give an exasperated sigh. “It’ll take longer for me to do, which’ll cost you.”

“Hey I’m here too, there's no ship you and I can’t fix together.” You said, jostling her shoulder. 

“Aw honey, it’s good to have to have you back.”

When Mando had set off to the cantina to get some leads on some work, you, the baby and Peli were doing the smaller repairs that the Crest required, and taking turns sipping what water you could in the cooler shade of Peli’s work space. “So, how long have you been traveling with the Mando?”

“A few months, he found me on Coruscant, he needed a translator and realized I’m kinda good at a lot useful things, so I’ve just sorta stuck around.”

“Mmm…” she said, before turning her attention to the baby wrapped in a sling around your torso. “And are you two… together? Is this baby yours?”

“Peli!” “Look, kid, all I’m saying is you leave me a few years back, slum it on Coruscant, then some big soldier in shiny metal knocks on your door? I’d have his baby too by now if I were you.”

“No no it’s not like that… The baby was rescued. He saved it from some kind of awful fate, it was a bounty.” “A bounty? But it’s a baby?” “Exactly, and now we're kind of on the run. Mando saved him. He’s… different.” She smiled back at the two of you before grabbing your shoulder. “Different is good for you I think. I think he’s good for you. C’mon, lets get some food started, he should be back with a job soon.”

* * *

You didn’t trust that young bounty hunter farther than you could throw him, and Mando has teased you about your lousy arm before. The bikes Mando and he took off in are shabby and unkempt, but his clothes are flashy and new. He’s overconfident and too chummy with your Mando, and the look you shared with Peli at the hanger solidifies you have every right to be nervous, everything about him seems off. “I can tell he cares about you two, because no one is that desperate to work with that kid for no reason. He wants to take care of you.”

“He knows I’d forfeit my salary in a heartbeat to keep things going here. I’m just happy to be with him.” “So you admit it, you admit you like him?” “I mean… I figured it was kind of obvious?” “He’s a man, and even more so, a man bound by honor. He’s gonna need some bait and switch or something. But you mean a lot to him, that much is obvious.”

“I just feel so helpless and I hate it. I mean, he goes on these crazy hunts and I stay behind when he doesn’t need me to translate. He trusts me to fly and help with repairs but sitting waiting makes me so nervous. I need to do something.” “Well, doesn’t he know you can defend yourself? I mean, you had a very tactical combat education.” “I just haven’t really found an easy way to slide that into conversation I guess. It’s hard to talk about,” you snuggle the child closer as he sleeps, face illuminated by the work lights in the small quarters in Peli’s home. “Being here is hard enough. And he knows, but he doesn’t know why. He knows I’m from Naboo, but not much else.”

“Well, stop thinking about if he comes back, and start thinking about opening up to him when he does.” She turns over on her cot and turns the light off, leaving you alone with your thoughts on the threadbare blanket on the cool clay floor.

* * *

“Morning sweetheart.” Says a masculine voice you can place, though you’re not sure why. Your eyes flutter open to reveal the face of the bounty hunter from the previous evening, pointing a blaster both at you and Peli. The baby clings tightly to your tank top, and you pull the fabric sling around your chest as tight as you can. Everything about this makes you feel like you did last time you were in Tatooine, from the way he’s eyeing you to the barrel of the blaster in your face. “I’m going to get up, and pick up my baby, I have no weapon on me.” You say, as calm as you can. There’s a slip of the queen’s voice in there, something meant to give you peace in a threat, and you wish it worked for you now that you’re not a scared little girl in Naboo. “Just get up, both of you, and come with me. We’re gonna sit in that ship and have a little chat while we wait for Mando to show up. Funny, bounty never said anything about your pretty face in the listing.”

It feels like years before Mando arrives but you know it can’t be longer than a few hours. The sound of the speeder bike roars through the empty hanger and you can hear the heavy thud of his feet as he barrels in. “There we go ladies, nice and easy, just like we practiced.” Calican says as he shoves you and Peli to your feet, blasters pointed at both of your temples. “Took you long enough Mando!” He says as he grabs the child from your hands. “Looks like I’m calling the shots now.” You’ve managed to be strong for so long, channeled every bit of training you’ve had, every blow you’ve been dealt from your years in servitude on Tatooine, but the sight of him finally here, and there seems to be nothing he can do, pushes you to the brink. Silent tears spill over from your eyes and Calican takes notice of this, shoving Peli forward “Cuff him,” he says and she grumbles towards him, shaking with every step. “When I turn you and the kid in Mando, I’m thinking of keeping your girl for myself, she’s so very pretty, and so loyal too. What was it you said doll, you’d ‘rather die than give anything up about Mando?’ They don’t make girls like this on Tatooine anymore that's for sure.” With this statement, whatever Peli had just been whispering to him is forgotten, as he stares straight at Calican. “If you put a hand on her, there won’t be a single safe spot left for you in the galaxy.”

“Bringing you in won’t just make me a member of the guild buddy… it’ll make me legendary.” With this he raises his blaster square with Mando’s head, but a quick flashbulb is enough to throw him off. He shoots his blaster in every direction he can while you try and wrestle for the baby. Finally, Mando comes around a corner and lands a shot square in his chest. You grab the baby before he tumbles over and crouch on the ramp of the ship.

“Oh that must have been so loud for your big old years!” Peli says as she and Mando run towards you. “Are you alright he asks”, grabbing your arms and squeezing tight. “I’m-I’m fine Mando. Really.” “Yeah I had a gun to my head but no worries, I’m fine too.” Peli exclaims, and you stifle a laugh before walking up to hug her. “If I’m back on this planet, something is seriously wrong.” you say, and she sighs as she pulls away from the hug. “Well then, in that case, I hope I never see you again. Take care of yourself kid, ok?” “Yeah, you too Peli.”

* * *

The water of the refresher feels icy down your back, and stings on the cuts and bruises you didn’t realize Calican had left. Your skin feels foreign, weird, like it isn’t yours anymore, and you wish you could crawl out of it. You pull yourself out of it when there's a soft rap at the door of the fresher. You crack your head out and see a gloved hand holding a stack of clean clothes. “Hey uh, I grabbed you some clothes to change into, and the ship is in hyperspace. Maybe, if you’re up for it, I’d like to talk when you’re out?”

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be out in a second. Thank you for this.” You say with a soft smile, before shutting the door again. You pull on the pants, and the shirt which feels a bit too big and soft to be yours, and beam a little bit when you realize it’s one of his. You step out of the refresher and Mando is sitting on the floor, every blanket is pulled from his bed and the little cot you sleep on, and you clamber into the cocoon beside him. He reclines against the wall and you snuggle yourself into his arm, head on his chest, before sighing a bit of relief. “I’m gonna turn the lights in here off, because I want to talk to you with my real voice. Can I trust you to not look?” You murmur a yes and are greeted with that mechanical hiss that happens when he takes off his helmet, which is quickly becoming one of your favorite sounds. “It’s almost like that night on Sorgan,” you sigh thinking back to the starlit night and warm beds of Sorgan. Those stolen kisses and breathy touches seem like ages ago now. He laughs a little at this before pressing his cheek onto your head. “Yeah, just like Sorgan…. Listen, Y/N, I’m sorry for what happened there. I should’ve been there I could’ve,” “Mando, you did nothing wrong, it’s really okay-”

“No it isn’t, you don’t like Tatooine to begin with and I left you alone and defenseless.” “Listen Buckethead, I can take care of myself usually,” you say with a laugh, and it earns some kind of chuckle from him, “but sometimes stuff like this happens. It turned out okay today so don’t take it personally. I feel like I owe you an explanation on all this though,”

“You don’t owe me anything Y/N,”

“I know I know but you trust me everytime we kiss with your whole livelihood essentially, and I want you to feel safe in knowing I can protect myself too, ok? Do you mind if I talk about my past for a little bit?” “Only if you’re okay with it.”

“Okay…” you sigh, and are placed at ease by the feeling of his lips on your head. “I was born in Naboo, and from a young age parents can choose to send their daughter to the Handmaiden’s Academy. Very prestigious, fancy school where you train to be a Handmaiden for the Queen of Naboo. Of course, not everyone gets to be a Handmaiden, so we're trained in combat, makeup, dress, diplomacy, manners, and whatever else we may need, and are encouraged to specialize in a skill to make us marketable outside the academy. I chose language. After some time, when I was 12 I think, we were attacked by some pirates, who grabbed as many of us as they could and sold us into slavery. I was enslaved on Tatooine for nearly 10 years, before my master freed us all and fled the planet when his debt became too high. I was homeless and lost, hurting and ripped of my identity, and I found Peli. She trained me to be a mechanic and I worked with her, before Greef Karga found us. He was looking for someone to help with his final bounty before he oversaw the Guild, and needed a linguist. His price was cheap, help him and he would set me up nicely on Coruscant. And lo and behold, another guild hunter comes to my aid only a few years after that.”

The silence in the ship hangs there for a few minutes, and in this moment you’re appreciative that the Mandalorian let you monologue, you don’t know if you would get through it if you’d taken any longer. The first words that come out of his mouth are, “close your eyes.” You do as you’re told and greeted with the softest kiss he has ever given you, like he’s trying to kiss your pain away. His lips find themselves on your neck, cheek, forehead, collarbone, lips again, nose, anywhere he can. He kisses the tears away you didn’t realize were falling. 

“I never would have made you go back there I’m, I’m so sorry Y/N.”

“No, no Mando it’s alright it’s-”

“Din.” “What?” “It’s Din. My name. It’s Din Djarin. I want you to have it, you gave me a piece of you, so take this.” “I… I don’t know what to say? Thank you for trusting me, Din.” You say, swirling the name across your tongue. You like the way it tastes in your mouth, it’s short and sweet and to the point, like him. “Din,” you say again, before feeling your way to place a kiss on his cheek. “Din,” you whisper again before kissing his forehead. “Di-” you barely get out before he presses his lips to yours once more, and you’re smiling into the kiss. When you finally pull away, he smooths the sides of your hair down. You're grateful your eyes are shut, you're positive, you look a mess.

“Y/N, you mean more to me than you’ll ever know. I don't know what we're doing with the kid, or with any of this, but I’m glad to do it with you by my side.” You lay your head back on his chest at this, and sit like this for a while before the baby starts to shift in his sleep. Din places his helmet back on and the lights flicker on with it. “By the way, I have to say, I like you in my clothes.” He murmurs, before cupping your cheek and slowly making his way up to the cockpit.

Kriff, wherever he goes, you’re sure to follow.

[the-cult-of-russo]

Push and Pull (part 2)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing, violence, angst, the usual shit.

-----------

"This is good. Really good," Detective Brett Mahoney said with a nod. He was holding the paper in his hands that Daphne had printed that morning. It was the picture she'd taken the night before. She never really trusted cops before since she knew they were corrupt. But since Fisk was now locked away along with the cops who worked for him, it was better. She wasn't stupid enough to think there were no corrupt cops left but she knew Brett was legit.

She’d taken an interest in the Italians after accidentally stumbling onto some things with her work. Working a case like this felt different to her average cases, it felt like it mattered. But she was a PI, not a fed or a cop. She could gather information until her heart's content but she wouldn't be able to do anything with it. To shut down the Italian's operation she needed to do it legit. Certain things wouldn't hold up in court if they weren't obtained legally. So when Brett asked her to work with them, she agreed. Off the books of course. That's why she hadn't taken anything with her. It wouldn't be legal evidence. But this was the tiniest sliver of proof he needed to get a warrant for them to go in guns blazing and search the place.

"Honestly, after Daredevil went in kicking ass, don't be surprised if they've moved things. But this at least gets a foot in the door," she mused softly. Brett nodded, flashing her a smile. 

"It does. This is great, Daphne, really. I'll keep you updated," he said with a nod. They both stood as he felt like he needed to walk her out. He always did this and she wasn't sure why. As they neared the desk, she saw two men talking to the cop there. One had long shaggy hair and the other was blind if his cane and glasses were anything to go by. Oddly enough the blind one's head tilted in her direction and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

"There's my favourite detective!" The shaggy haired one grinned. He was so friendly, she almost heaved. He wandered over and shook Brett's hand enthusiastically. 

"Foggy," Brett said politely. Daphne's eyes were glued on the blind man though as he used his cane to come over. Something was itching at the back of her brain as she examined his face. She wasn't sure what.

"And who's this lovely lady?" The one who was apparently Foggy asked. He gave her a bright grin and she wondered what he must have snorted that morning to be so cheerful.

"This is Daphne. Daphne, this is Foggy Nelson and Matt Murdock. They're lawyers," Brett said amicably. She gave them a brief smile noting how tight lipped this Matt guy was. How tightly he seemed to grip his cane. 

"Nice to meet you guys," she couldn't even help sounding bored. It wasn't even intentional. It didn't seem to phase Foggy though as he continued smiling, glancing over to his friend. 

"Nice to meet you too, right Matt?" She carefully observed the way Foggy looked at Matt like he was confused by his behaviour. 

"Pleasure to meet you, Daphne," Matt replied with a tense smile. That voice. That itch got worse and she narrowed her eyes a little as she looked at him. They flit around what she could see of his face behind the glasses before it clicked. Oh how it clicked. There was a reason why figuring shit out was what she did for a living but she hadn't expected to just find this out so easy. She hadn't even intended to look into it because she didn't even care that much. 

Matt seemed to tense more, his back straightening as he seemed focused on her, even with unseeing eyes. She remembered how perceptive he was. Did he know that she knew? There was no way. 

"Well I need to go. Let me know how it goes?" She asked, finally tearing her eyes away from Matt as she looked at Brett. He gave her a smile and friendly pat to the back.

"I will," he replied. Her eyes went to Foggy then as he gave her a nod and she gave one in return. After last night's attitude she didn't even bother acknowledging Matt. She made her way out of the precinct and down the steps.

Her mind was swirling with questions from her new revelation. It hadn't even been that hard to put two and two together. How had he not been caught yet? She wondered if Foggy knew or not. So lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice someone was behind her until it was too late. Then she was yanked into the alleyway. Once more pinned to the wall by her throat and she couldn't hold back the snort as her eyes landed on the blind man doing it.

"Are you following me?" He practically snarled. She rolled her eyes, much like the night before she didn't struggle in her position. She wasn't scared.

"My life doesn't revolve around you. I was there passing on my evidence," she said sounding annoyed. He didn't let up though.

"Seems awfully familiar…" she trailed off with a sly smirk. His eyebrows rose before he let her go. Even though he didn't have the gift of sight he seemed to watch her warily.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he huffed defensively. She chuckled, cocking her head. He looked spooked somewhat and it was nice after his cockiness from the night before. He clearly hadn't thought coming after her through because if she hadn't figured it out, she would have by now.

"Are you even blind?" She wondered out loud. His head snapped to her then with an offended scoff.

"Of course I'm blind," he genuinely sounded offended and she came to the conclusion he wasn't lying.

"How do you do it then?" She pressed. He looked tense, like he was ready to crawl out of his skin and she was enjoying making him sweat.

"I don't know what you're talking about,” he snapped.

"Yeah you do. You know, beating bad guys up, fighting crime. Honestly it's quite impressive since you can't see," she smirked. 

He stopped his pacing and she noticed his hands clenching and unclenching. 

"You're crazy, you know that? Have you heard yourself?" His deflections were useless when she could hear that undertone of pure panic. She knew she was right.

"Don't try and gaslight me. It wasn't that hard to figure out  I wasn't even looking. I have no idea how you've not been caught yet, Devilboy," she snorted. He looked away quickly, chest heaving a little. She could see he was starting to realise she wasn't letting this go. He was silent and she observed him. He honestly looked ready to have a heart attack and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm not gonna rat if that's what you're worried about," she stated with a sigh. His head snapped back to her then as a mirthless chuckle left his lips.

"Right. I'll just take that on faith shall I?" He sneered at her.

"You don't really have a choice. I was serious when I said I wasn't looking. I could give a rat’s ass who you really were. I found out by chance. Believe me or don't, I really don't give a shit," she said seriously. He did the weird head tilt thing for a moment before swallowing thickly.

"And how do I know you won't go right to the cops, or to the papers?" He couldn't hide the faint tremor in his voice. She wondered if this was the first time someone had found out on their own. How that loss of control felt.

"Why would I do that? What would it serve me? I do that, you get locked up. Despite your bad attitude, I actually think you do good things for Hell's Kitchen," she replied honestly. A little begrudgingly if she was completely honest. He made it hard to want to say anything nice about him. He looked confused, his eyebrows furrowing under his glasses. She was bored now honestly. His panic wasn't anything she needed to stick around for.

"Is that all or you wanna pin me to the wall some more?" She snarked. He shook his head, looking rattled and she stepped past him. His hand darted out with impressive precision for a blind man, gripping her wrist tightly.

"If you tell anyone, I will find you," his vague threat only served to ramp up her anger.

"It's not wise to threaten someone who can ruin your life. I have no need to tell anyone, but run your mouth like that and we'll see how fast your life burns down. I wouldn't piss me off if I were you," she growled ferociously. He seemed stunned at first by her words, letting go of her wrist like it burned him. He really needed to wise up and realise just who had the upper hand in this situation.

"Have a good day, Mr Murdock," she gave him a sickly sweet smile even though he couldn't see if. If all her observations were correct he didn't have to see it to know it was there. He seemed to be able to sense everything anyway. She turned on her heel and marched away, the whole thing similar to the night before. She idly wondered if anything did happen to her through her snooping if he'd just let her die. That's what she would do after all. Why would he save her when she had the potential to ruin his life? Oh well. She didn't need him before and she didn't need him now. Even if it came to it, she wasn't one to beg and plead for her life.