#like I knew something i shouldn't have and this guy punched me

[mistyechoes]

that actually sucks so bad that was such a cool dream

[wifelinkmtg]

TUMBLR POST EDITOR WON'T LET ME TITLE THIS POST ANYMORE SO I GUESS THIS IS THE TITLE NOW. WEBBED SITE INNIT

So let's say you grew up in the nineties and that The Lion King was an important movie to you. Let's say that the character of Scar - snarling, ambitious, condescending, effeminate Scar - stirred feelings in you which you had no words for as a child. And then let's say, many years later, you're talking about it with a college friend, and you say something like, "oh man, I think Scar was some sort of gay awakening for me," and she fixes you with this level stare and says, "Scar was a fascist. What's the matter with you?"

The immediate feeling is not unlike missing a step: hang on, what's happening, what did I miss? You knew there were goose-stepping hyenas in "Be Prepared," but you didn't think it mattered that much. He's the bad guy, after all, and the movie's just pointing it out. Your friend says it's more than that: the visuals of the song are directly referencing the Nuremberg rallies. They're practically an homage to Riefenstahl. This was your sexual awakening? Is this why you're so into peaked caps and leather, then? Subliminal nazi kink, perhaps?

And then one of your other friends cuts in. "Hold up," he says, "let's think about what Scar actually did in the movie. He organized a group of racialized outcasts and led them against a predatory monarchy. Why are you so keen to defend their hereditary rule? Scar's the good guy here." The conversation immediately descends into a verbal slap fight about who the real bad guy is, whether Scar's regime was actually responsible for the ecological devastation of the Pride Lands, whether the hyenas actually count as "racialized" because James Earl Jones voiced Mufasa after all. Your Catholic friend starts saying some strange and frankly concerning shit about Natural Law. Someone brings The Lion King 2 into it. You leave the conversation feeling a little bit lost and a little bit anxious. What were we even talking about?

INTRODUCING: THE DITCH

There is a way of reading texts which I'm afraid is pervasive, which has as its most classical expression the smug obsession with trivia and minutiae you find in a certain vein of comic book fan. "Who was the first Green Lantern? What was his weakness? Do you even know the Green Lantern Oath?" It eschews the subjective in favor of definitively knowable fact. You can't argue with this guy that, say, Alan Scott shouldn't really count as the first Green Lantern because his whole deal is so radically different from the Hal Jordan/John Stewart/Guy Gardner Corps-era Lanterns, because this guy will simply say "but he's called Green Lantern. Says so right on the cover. Checkmate." This approach to reading a text is fundamentally 1) emotionally detached (there's a reason the joke goes, oh you like X band? name three of their songs - and not, which of their songs means the most to you? which of them came into your life at exactly the right moment to tell you exactly what you needed to hear just then?) and 2) defensive. It's a stance that is designed not to lose arguments. It says so right on the cover. Checkmate.

And then you get the guys who are like "well obviously Bruce Wayne could do far more as a billionaire to solve societal problems by using his tremendous wealth to address systemic issues instead of dressing up as a bat and punching mental patients in the head," and these guys have half a point but they're basically in the same ditch butting heads with the "well, actually" guys, and can we not simply extricate ourselves from the ditch entirely?

So, okay, let's return to our initial example. Scar is portrayed using Nazi iconography - the goose-stepping, the monumentality, the Nuremberg Lichtdom. He is also flamboyant and effete. He unifies and leads a group of downtrodden exiles to overthrow an absolute monarch. He's also a self-serving despot on whose rule Heaven Itself turns its back. You can't reconcile these things from within the ditch - or if you can, the attempt is likely to be ad-hoc supposition and duct tape.

Instead, let's ask ourselves what perspective The Lion King is coming from. What does it say is true about the world? What are its precepts, its axioms?

There is a natural hierarchical order to the world. This is just and righteous and the way of things, and attempts to overthrow this order will be punished severely by the world itself.

Fascism is what happens when evil men attempt to usurp this natural order with the aid of a group or groups of people who refuse to accept their place in the order.

There exists an alternative to defending and adhering to one's place in the natural order - it consists only of selfish spineless apathy.

Manliness is an essential quality of a just ruler. Unmanliness renders a person unfit for rule, and often resentful and dangerous as well.

And isn't that interesting, laid out like that? It renders the entire argument about the movie irrelevant (except for whatever your Catholic friend was on about, since his understanding of the world seems to line up with the above precepts weirdly well.) It's meaningless to argue about whether Scar was a secret hero or a fascist, when the movie doesn't understand fascism and has a damn-near alien view of what good and evil are.

There's always gonna be someone who, having read this far, wants to reply, "so, what? The Lion King is a bad movie and the people who made it were homophobes and also American monarchists, somehow? And anyone who likes it is also some sort of gay-bashing crypto-authoritarian?" To which I have to reply, man, c'mon, get out of the ditch. You're no good to anyone in there. Take my hand. I'm going to pull on three. One... two...

SO PHYREXIA [PAUSE FOR APPLAUSE, GROANS]

We're talking about everyone's favorite ichor-drooling surgery monsters again because there was a bit in my ~*~seminal~*~ essay Transformation, Horror, Eros, Phyrexia which seemed to give a number of readers quite a bit of trouble: namely, the idea that while Phyrexia is textually fascist, their aesthetic is incompatible with real-world fascism, and further, that this aesthetic incompatibility in some way outweighs the ways in which they act like a fascist nation in terms of how we think of them. I'll take responsibility here: I don't think that point is at all clear or well-argued in that essay. What I was trying to articulate was that the text of Magic: the Gathering very much wants Phyrexia to be supremely evil and dangerous fascists, because that makes for effective antagonists, but in the process of constructing that, it's accidentally encoded a whole bunch of fascinating presuppositions that end up working at cross-purposes with its apparent aim. That's... not that much clearer, is it? Hmm. Why don't I just show you what I mean?

Atraxa, Grand Unifier (art by Marta Nael)

In "Beneath Eyes Unblinking," one of the March of the Machine stories by K. Arsenault Rivera, there's a fascinating and I think revealing passage in which Atraxa (big-deal Phyrexianized angel and Elesh Norn's lieutenant) has a run-in with an art museum in New Capenna. The first thing I want to talk about is that, in this passage, Atraxa has no understanding of the concept of "beauty". A great deal of space in such a rushed storyline is devoted to her trying to puzzle out what beauty means and interrogating the minds of her recently-compleated Capennan aesthetes to try and understand it. In the end, she is unable to conceive of beauty except as "wrongness," as anathema.

So my first question is, why doesn't Atraxa have any idea of beauty? This is nonsense, right? We could point to a previous story, "A Garden of Flesh," by Lora Gray, in which Elesh Norn explicitly thinks in terms of beauty, but that's a little bit ditchbound, isn't it? The better argument is to simply look at Phyrexian bodies, at the Phyrexian landscape, all of which looks the way it does on purpose, all of which has been shaped in accordance with the very real aesthetic preferences of Phyrexians. How you could look at the Fair Basilica and not understand that Phyrexians most definitely have an idea of beauty, even if you personally disagree with it, is baffling. This is a lot like the canonical assertion that Phyrexians lack souls, which is both contradicted elsewhere in canon and essentially meaningless, given Magic's unwillingness or inability to articulate what a soul is in its setting, and as with this, it seems the goal is simply to dehumanize Phyrexians, to render them alien, even at the cost of incoherence or internal contradiction.

Atraxa's progress through the museum is fascinating. It evokes the 1937 Nazi exhibit on "degenerate art" in Munich, but not at all cleanly. The first exhibit, which is of representational art, she angrily destroys for being too individualistic (a point of dissonance with the European fascist movements of the 20th century, which formed in direct antagonism to communism.) The second exhibit, filled with abstract paintings and sculptures, she destroys even more angrily for having no conceivable use (this is much more in line with the Nazi idea of "degenerate art", so well done there.) The third exhibit is filled with war trophies and reconstructions from a failed Phyrexian invasion of Capenna many years prior, which she is angriest of all with (and fair enough, I suppose.) But then, after she's done completely trashing the place, she spots a number of angel statues on the cathedral across the plaza, and she goes apeshit. In a fugue of white-hot rage, she pulverizes the angel heads, and here is where I have to ask my second question:

Why angels? If you are trying to invoke fascist attitudes toward art, big statues of angels are precisely the wrong thing for your fascist analogues to hate. Fascists love monumental, heroic representations of superhuman perfection. It's practically their whole aesthetic deal. I understand that we're foreshadowing the imminent defeat of Phyrexia at the hands of legions of angels and a multiversal proliferation of angel juice, but that just leads to the exact same question: why angels? To the best of my knowledge, the Phyrexian weakness to New Capennan angel juice is something invented for this storyline. They have, after all, been happily compleating angels since 1997. We could talk about the in-universe justification for why Halo specifically is so potent, but I don't remember what that justification is, and also don't care. Let's not jump back in the ditch, please. The point is, someone decided that this time, Phyrexia would be defeated by an angelic host, and what does that mean? What is the text trying to say? What are its precepts and axioms?

Let me ask you a question: how many physically disabled angels are there in Magic: the Gathering? How about transsexual angels? How many angels are there, on all of the cards that have ever been printed for Magic: the Gathering, that are even just a bit ugly? Do you get it yet? Or do you need me to spell it out for you?

SPELLING IT OUT FOR YOU

There is a kind of body which is bad. It is bad because it has been significantly altered from its natural state, and it is bad because it is repellent to our aesthetic sensibilities.

The bad kind of body is contagious. It spreads through contact. Sometimes people we love are infected, and then they become the bad kind of body too.

There is a kind of body which is good. It is good because it is pleasing to our aesthetic sensibilities, and it is good because it is unaltered from its (super)natural state.

A happy ending is when all the good bodies destroy or drive into hiding all of the bad bodies. A happy ending is when the bad bodies of the people we love are forcibly returned to being the good kind of body.

Do you get it now?

ENDNOTES

It's worth noting that the ditch is very similar to the white American Evangelical hermeneutics of "the Bible says it. I believe it. That settles it," the defensive chapter-and-verse-or-it-didn't-happen approach to reading a text, what Fred Clark of slacktivist calls "concordance-ism". I don't think that's accidental. We stand underneath centuries of people reading the Bible very poorly - how could that not affect how we read things today? We are participants in history whether we like it or not.

I sincerely hope I haven't come across as condescending in this essay. Close reading is legitimately difficult! They teach college courses on this stuff! And while it is frustrating to have my close readings interrogated by people who... aren't doing that, like. I do get it. I find myself back in the ditch all the time. This stuff is hard. It is also, sorry, crucial if you intend to say something about a text that's worth saying.

I also hope I've communicated clearly here. Magic story is sufficiently incoherent that trying to develop a thesis about it often feels like trying to nail jello to the wall. If anyone has questions, please ask them! And thank you for reading. Next time, we'll probably do the new Eldraine set.

[mcflymemes]

GONE GIRL (2014) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary

what are you thinking? how are you feeling? what have we done to each other?

i felt i needed to shoot something.

we've never fucked in a bookstore.

you know i have to kiss you now.

sometimes i want to punch us in the face, we're so cute.

when you're upset, you bottle up.

brought you a present.

i need you. now. touch me.

that's very sweet of you and very unnecessary.

pour me a bourbon, would you?

it's a bad day.

i'm so crazy, stupid happy.

i met a boy. a great, gorgeous, sweet, cool-ass guy.

things could get ugly.

whose beer am i drinking?

i prefer men who are funny, not "funny."

i'm the guy to save you from all this awesomeness.

it's hard to believe you. i think it's your chin.

you are way too into that cat.

tell me how it ends.

i'm not someone who hits the panic button, but... it's weird, right?

you mind if we look around?

so what do you do now? for work.

perfect, time for a quick tour of my failings.

i love your parents, but they can be assholes.

people want to hear from you.

i thought that'd be embarrassing.

i am here on a strictly journalistic capacity.

[name], you are beyond amazing. you are incredibly smart but entirely unsnobby. you are kind, but never a martyr.

you surprise me. you challenge me.

isn't it time we fixed that?

we're going to take this very, very seriously.

i go there for the quiet.

we're still not sure what we're dealing with.

please don't take that tone with me.

everyone told us... and told us and told us... marriage is hard work.

technically we're supposed to fuck at the next stop.

books, sex, bourbon... life is good.

i knew you shouldn't have moved back here.

maybe i'll teach you a thing or two.

i'm a little drunk.

let's swear we will never be like them.

everything else is background noise.

why are you throwing that in my face again?

it's like you're daring me to be someone i don't want to be.

i'm not that person. i'm your wife.

suddenly i knew everything was about to get worse.

i'm asking you nicely.

everyone is projecting their shit onto me.

i feel like i could disappear.

i've been so worried about you.

i don't want to fight. i just want to be with you. that's all i want.

you fucking lied to my fucking face.

for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.

you have to fucking talk to me!

i'm not going to be scared anymore.

this man of mine may kill me.

men always use that as the defining compliment, don't they? she's a cool girl.

i will admit. for someone who likes to win, it's tempting to be the girl every guy wants.

we were happy pretending to be other people.

i need to show you something.

see we have the same taste in men.

you're reading it again? you know how it ends.

whatever the hell they found, we have to assume it's very bad.

everyone would hate me.

why are you so good to me?

my defense is the truth.

i've never seen it in my life.

i feel myself fading.

i just said what you wanted to hear.

take off your clothes.

i'm a fighter. i fought my way back to you.

kiss my cheek.

you're not at risk anymore.

you know you can sleep with me, right?

we should hold hands.

you called me a murderer.

i haven't touched you.

i've killed for you.

[strangersteddierthings]

February 3

rating: T

cw: none

prompt: Love is being terrified but not letting that stop you from taking a leap.

Continued from yesterday's post.

They end up on opposite sides of the alley as they wait. It's been about fifteen, twenty minutes of silence. Steve leans back against the wall, arms crossed, and he switches from staring at one end of the alley to the other. He doesn't expect the guy who attacked Eddie to just pop up but... Well, better safe than not.

Eddie sits across from him, one knee propped up, the other stretched in front of him. He hasn't looked up from his lap since he sat down.

Steve should be mad. Eddie's being a dick for no reason. He's not mad, though. He's... hurt.

He's always sort of suspected he was the problem. Eddie's been hot and cold with him since they saved the world together. He originally thought they were friends, and that Eddie's distance and anger would creep in when Steve was coming on too strong.

And, like, not for nothing, but Steve knows he attractive. He's caught Eddie looking. But that guy back in alley- Steve can't deny they look similar. If that's the type of guy trying to beat up Eddie in back alleyways, then-

Steve shakes the thought from his head. That was probably just a coincidence.

"I think it's been long enough," Eddie says, though he makes no move to stand up.

Steve pushes off the wall. He heads straight for Eddie, to offer him a hand up. Getting up is harder than getting down some days, with the scars. Eddie looks surprised, but he takes Steve's hand.

They stand for a moment, before Steve steps back. He gets about five steps away.

"Wait, Steve," Eddie says. And Steve stops. "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said- any of that."

"Apology accepted," Steve says, even though it's not true right now, he knows it will be. He starts to turn around but-

"Stop! Don't- can you please not turn around? I-I got something I need to say, but I don't think I can do it to your face, man."

"What? Why?" he asks, but stays put.

"'Cause I- Can you just listen?"

Steve sighs, putting his hands on his hips and dropping his head down but he doesn't move.

There's a moment of pause, probably where Eddie's expecting verbal confirmation, but Steve stays silent. "I-I can be a dick, and I get pretty defensive-"

Steve snorts at that because, yeah. Yeah he does.

"-when, when I'm scared. And man, you fucking terrify me."

He sucks in a sharp breath. Maybe he wasn't too far off with his earlier thoughts of himself and that guy.

"And now you- you saw Michael. And, and maybe you saw enough to... see a resemblance?"

"Yeah."

"So, uh, I am- I'm fucking terrified but we both know we can't- I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to you, that I take things out on you. Especially around the things I feel. So, I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? I'm the one who- who did something to make you scared," Steve is confused. "I'm- I look like the guy who attacked you. I get it."

"Steve," Eddie sounds different, his voice is more steady. "I- I mean, yeah, he was going to throw a punch but that's not- we went into that alley together."

Well, now Steve does whip around because, "What? Like... willingly?"

Eddie cringes, but doesn't look away. "Yeah."

Furrowing his brow, Steve says, "why? I don't- if you knew he was going to hit you, why'd you go?"

Eddie laughs, but it's humorless, "he wasn't going to hit me. We were going to share a cigarette. Or, like, I thought we left for a smoke break, we'd been chatting it up at the bar and I wanted to not have to strain to hear him, but Michael thought that was me using 'have a smoke' as an innuendo. He didn't turn into a dick until I told him I wasn't going to blow him in broad daylight."

"Oh!" Steve is shocked, and given the confused look on Eddie's face now, he thinks his face shows his own shocked confusion.

"What did- did you think Michael was just there to beat me up?"

"Yeah! What else was I supposed to think!?" Steve doesn't- what? If Eddie... "So, you were, like, attracted to him?"

Eddie doesn't say anything. He looks almost as wired as he did the night they found him in the boat house, terrified and running on adrenaline alone, but he manages to give Steve a nod of confirmation.

"So, you're attracted to guys that... look like me?" Steve says out loud, trying to piece the puzzle together. Eddie is turning red but he nods another confirmation. "But then why aren't...." he trails off, remembering the shout that really started this conversation. 'Because it's you.'

It won't matter what Steve looks like, he realizes. Eddie just isn't attracted to him. As a whole, as a person, in general.

"Oh," Steve says again, unsure of what else to say. "I- I get it. I wouldn't- I wouldn't want me either, but, uh, thanks for like, saying it plainly. Do- Can I go, now? Or do you- I'll walk you to your van if you're still worried about Mitchell."

"Michael," Eddie corrects while just staring wide-eyed for a moment before he shakes his head and exclaims, "What? What are- What are you talking about!?"

"I- You said the problem was me!" Steve says back, trying not to raise his own voice back. "What do you mean what am I talking about!"

"What do you think this is about!?"

"That you hate me! And you've been trying to pretend you don't! Probably for Dustin's sake or something. But you don't have to! You don't have to force yourself to hang out with me."

Seems like Eddie wasn't expecting Steve to say that, it the dropped jaw looks of disbelief on his face is anything to go by.

"So, can we go now? Are we- is this done?" Steve says, bitchy.

"Steve. Steve, I don't hate you! How did- what have-" Eddie cuts himself off with a quiet 'fuck' as he looks down. Steve watches as Eddie seems to steel himself against something before he looks back up and says. "Dude, I'm like, in love with you. And I was trying so hard to hide it but I-I guess I did that. A bit too well if that's your conclusion."

Steve doesn't even know how to process that. That's not- how can that be- but Eddie said it. He looks like he might have a heart attack at any moment now, but he said it. "What?"

"Don't make me say it again, man."

"No, no I think I need you to. Because there have been so many times I thought we were flirting and it might go somewhere and then you'd- you'd suddenly be a dick again and I thought it was because I was making you uncomfortable with my flirting."

"You were flirting with me!?" Eddie screeches.

"Yes! For months! I thought you knew."

"No! If I fucking knew I wouldn't be driving to Indy when I can afford it to try and find some knock-off Steve Harrington to try and get my rocks off with!"

They both just stare at each other for a moment before Steve feels the laughter building in him, and it comes out as a high-pitched giggle that builds into full on laughter. It brings tears to his eyes and he hears Eddie's laugh joins his after a moment.

"This mean you'll quit being a dick to me all the time?" Steve asks, once the laughter has died down.

"Well, I'm kinda a dick in general, so no," Eddie says, offering a small smile. "So, are we... okay?"

Steve pretends to think on it before saying, "yeah. We'll be okay. But, we should get back to Hawkins. And, uh, maybe you wanna come over and we can talk more? Figure this out?"

Eddie's small smile becomes blinding. "I'm following you home, Harrington. Best of luck getting rid of me now."

Steve smiles back and closes the distance between them to give Eddie a quick, teasing kiss. Eddie leans back in, but Steve stops him with a hand to his chest. "No. More talking first. I-I've started too many relationships by skipping that bit and, uh, they never last. So, home?"

Eddie grins. "Yeah. Home."

-

@steddielovemonth @nburkhardt @i-less-than-three-you @afewproblems @skepsiss

[stardustdreams-andcaffeine]

The Past That Haunts | Din Djarin

Din Djarin x fem!reader ✧ oneshot

Summary: It's been months since you stowed away on the Mandalorian's ship, running from the ghosts of a past you'd rather forget. You shouldn't have fallen in love, you knew better than to get close, and now you have to pay the penance for your sins. Your past has come back to haunt, and you're his next bounty.

A/N: Really really proud of this one. Should have been studying, but was doing this lol so you all better enjoy. As always, requests are open and I'll get to them when I can because college is insane. Love you all dearly, hope you have a great day wherever you are 🤍

Warnings: violence, sexual themes and suggestive content, mentions of blood, fem!reader, angst, fluff, happy ending I promise (i only like hurting you a little bit, not enough to take away the happy ending)

✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦

No one can run from their past forever.

Lies, secrets, sins—they all have a nasty habit of breaking through the thin soil they've been buried beneath and rearing their heads. What was left behind never stays gone, but rather skitters behind in waiting for the right moment to revive. The past haunts, it stays connected to the essence of a soul and refuses death itself until its dues have been paid.

No one can run from their past forever, not even after you'd almost forgotten it was lurking right there.

And yet, the reason you'd nearly forgotten was laying unconscious in the midst of a hunt he'd dragged you along on.

"Mando, if you're done dreaming of me I could use some backup!" You shout, barely avoiding the clawed fist of the Trandoshan mercenary before you. The bounty was stronger and deadlier than you, but you were faster.

As you danced and weaved around his blows, your eyes slipped to your Mandalorian still unconscious from where the Trandoshan had snuck up on the two of you. This job was supposed to be simple, but even lower grade mercenaries like the one fighting you were still deadly.

With a breath of frustration slipping your lips, your mind quickly raced to try and work out how to get out of this situation. Mando clearly would be no help and while he often punched his way out of problems, you didn't have that luxury. That's why within seconds you whirled around to the mercenary with a nervous smile on your lips.

"My friend, I believe we got off on the wrong foot." Your smile was charismatic as you extended your arms out in welcome to the target. The mercenary snarled at the comment, and you both glanced down to the foot he'd just regrown after Din had managed to chop it off.

You look back up at the reptilian male, a sheepish smile on your lips, "Bad choice of words"

He hissed at you and lunged again, slashing a knife you hadn't even seen him pull. A yelp left your mouth as you dodged the hit, desperately trying to be diplomatic.

"Look, the Mandalorian is out cold," You placated, ducking out of a knife swing by a hair's breadth, "He's the bounty hunter, not me. You and I, we can work something out."

This caught his attention, his yellow-orange eyes tracking your every breath, "You're not a hunter, but you're with the Mandalorian. You wouldn't betray him."

"He doesn't have to know," You reason, shoving every ounce of honey-coated deception you have into your tone, "Look at him! One hit from you and he's out like a light, big guy. There's no way he'll even remember this happened."

The Trandoshan's knife was lowering now, and your heart skipped a beat with hope. This was going to work, and when it did you were going to give Mando hell. You nearly smiled at the thought, but remembered where you were.

"What are your terms?" He hissed, and you take a calculated step towards him.

"I let you go free, and you let me leave with my life." You were getting nearer to the bounty, and he seemed to be so caught up in pondering your bargain that he missed your hand slip to the beskar knife Din had made for you a few months back.

"That seems acceptable," The bounty finally admits, slipping his knife back into its place and surveying you, "I'll-"

With a war cry, you launch yourself at the Trandoshan and jump onto his back, one arm around his neck and the other trying to plunge the beskar knife into his thick, scaled skin. He roars in response, spinning wildly and clawing up at you.

"Just die!" You pant, slashing and seeming to miss every swing.

Din was right, you really did suck at this whole combat thing. It's a good thing you were one hell of a thief.

"Y/N!"

It took more effort than you'd like to admit to keep the relief you felt from crashing over your entire form. Your eyes flicked up mid-spin from your perch on the Trandoshan's back to see the Mandalorian stumbling to his feet.

"Morning, sleepy head! Wanna join the fun?" You breathlessly call out, a tired smile on your lips.

The target takes advantage of your split attention and slices his razor-sharp claws through the tender flesh of your forearm. You clench your teeth to grit through the pain, "Not cool!"

It was mere seconds after the minor blow had been landed that the wild spinning and thrashing of the bounty finally stopped. Your dizzy mind righted to see a gloved hand grab the reptilian male and rip him to a stop.

You slide off his back, groaning to find your balance severely off-kilter. You fall on your ass just as Mando fires a shot at him, slicing it through the target's shoulder and making him roar in pain. His cry is cut off when Mando fires another blast into his skull, making the silence following the thud of the body deafening.

"Cold it is," Mando grunts, holstering the blaster.

The beskar helmet he wears immediately snaps to you, and you've been around him long enough to tell by his body language what he's feeling. Anger, worry, guilt.

Against your better judgement, your heart stutters as Din crouches down in front of you and reaches out for your bleeding arm. The lightning that crackles under your skin as his gloved hands tenderly lift your forearm makes your already dizzy mind spin. It takes the strength you've built up over the last few months to ignore the effect he has on you.

"You waited for a grand entrance, can't say I'm mad," You quip. His shoulders are tight as he keeps his gaze down on your arm.

"I should've seen him coming," Is all he replies, his voice that same sugar-sweet gravel that makes your inhibitions crumble.

"You know, I had it under control until I accidentally made a joke about the foot you chopped off." You laugh, the sound light in comparison to the biting pain, and Din shakes his head.

"That's not funny." He tried to sound convincing, but you could tell he was loosening up now that he'd seen your injury was just a scratch.

"It's a little funny," You fire back, a smile growing on your lips. He looks up at you and that damn mask makes your heart race and your mind wander.

It's the almost imperceptible breathy laugh he lets out, though, that makes you remember how far gone you are when it comes to him.

"I like it when you laugh." Your words are soft, and they're out before you can even think to stop them. Mando goes still before you, your arm still in his grasp. It's then that the position you're in, with him crouched before you, seems much more intimate than it did a few minutes ago.

You go still as one of his hands lifts to your face, and you nearly forget how to breath when he almost absentmindedly brushes a gloved-knuckle against a light bruise forming on your cheek from the fight. His fingers leave fire where they touch, and you can only dream about how it would feel if it were his skin and not his gloves.

He catches himself too quickly for your liking and stands, extending a hand down to you, "Come on, we've got a bounty to cash in."

You take his hand and let him help you to your feet, "I think I deserve a larger cut on this one. I did take him on one-on-one, you know."

"And nearly got yourself killed."

You glance up at him, your brows lifted in a challenge, "I saved your ass, didn't I?"

Din doesn't move back an inch, but rather stays towering over you and cocks his head in response, "Is that so?"

Your heart stumbles yet again. The air is thick with tension and unspoken attraction, and the way he's looking down at you isn't helping. Din is usually as close to void of emotion as he can be, save for his temper and inability to keep from sassing you. It's moments like this though, moments where he's almost playful, that make you remember just how powerful the hold he has on you is.

"Can't deny it this time, Mandalorian." You try to sound cool and calm like he always does, but fail miserably. He just hums before stepping back and breaking the tension-corded air between you.

"Help me get him to the Crest."

And you do, but as you work in the comfortable silence you've grown used to, you can't help but think about how lucky you are. This life, it may seem dangerous and hectic, but it's a blessing to you. It's everything to you. He's everything to you, he has been since the first few moments he found you. There was a sudden tightness in your chest, and you can't help but think of that day—the day your life would never be the same.

||| Months Prior

Your breaths were labored, your legs burned, your vision was blurred with sweat and tears.

You had nowhere to go, nothing in the bustling port town on Corrida could shield you from your fate. Panic clawed up your throat, so thick it nearly choked you.

Not like this, you pleaded to yourself, it can't end like this.

Mind-racing and heart-pounding, you swiftly and nimbly darted in and out of shops and between buildings. You danced in the shadows, became one of them. It was your greatest strength, your stealth, and even though it was what had gotten you into this mess, it was now your only chance at survival.

The day was turning into night, and as light dwindled your hope flared and grew. Once darkness settled over the town shrouded by mountains, your pursuers would lose every chance of finding you. All you had to do was find a way onto a ship and ride it out of this forsaken planet. Then, you'd be-

"Hey, you!"

The voice that rang out sent tendrils of fear to your very bones. You knew that voice. You'd know that voice for as long as you'd live. While there were still thoughts in your brain, that voice would haunt you. You ducked around the alleyway between two shops, your heart racing at a painful speed as you chanced a look in the direction of your old Master.

"You seen a girl running through here?" He snarled, his tone boiling with anger that he thinly kept composed under his Imperial getup. The Empire was gone, but unfortunately the New Republic could not monitor every planet in every system when it fell. You just had the supreme misfortune of dwelling in the town of a group of Imperial officers that refused to back down.

"There's plenty of girls here, be more specific," The shopkeeper he'd asked grunted, going about his work.

Your Master spoke to him for a few more minutes before you forced yourself to slink away, melting into the shadows growing longer as the sky grew darker. As you snuck around the back of the buildings, you heard your Master's voice rise in volume.

"Anyone who finds an indentured woman in a green cloak is to bring her to me, immediately."

You froze, looking down at the cloak around your shoulders. With a pounding heart you shucked it off, cursing the Imperial scum for the clever tactic. Now if he saw you sneaking around, you'd have nothing to hide your face.

Indentured. You bristled at the word, anger flooding your mind. What a pretty way to say enslaved.

You had to get out of here and fast. The Empire might be gone, but this town was still pinned under their thumb. These people wouldn't think twice before turning you over. The satchel that was slung across your body was heavy with the reason why you couldn't let that happen.

With silent steps, you made it all the way to the ship port. There weren't many options present, and the choice would be paramount. Pick the wrong ship, and you'd be cast into the streets for your old Master and his troopers to find you and the item you stole from him that was nestled in the bag you bore.

As you surveyed the ship port, you noted three choices. First, the light freighter that sat loading its cargo near the middle of the port—too busy, too central. Second, the old Razor Crest sitting nearest you—low profile, but you could've sworn you'd just seen a Mandalorian walk into it. That was too risky, too dangerous. Third, and most appealing, the CR90 Corvette—no one dangerous was entering, enough cargo to hide in, it was perfect.

Making your mind, you begin to dart across the ship port, dodging past the Razor Crest and towards the Corvette. It would work, it would be perf-

You skidded to a stop so fast that you nearly tripped and fell. Walking up to the Corvette was your Master, and he'd just begun talking to the owner. Your eyes widened as he motioned to the three storm troopers with him, and they began to search the ship.

This wasn't good, you weren't going to make if off of this planet.

Your eyes wildly searched the port and landed on the Razor Crest just as its back hatch began to close. It wasn't ideal, but it was taking off soon, and that made it your only choice. Holding your breath, you surged towards the beat up ship and vaulted into the space between the closing hatch and the ship's interior. Luckily for you, the Mandalorian you'd seen was in the cockpit taking off when you clanged and rolled into the ship's belly. The engines started and the ship lifted, and before you could comprehend it, you were leaving Corrida.

You escaped. You stole from the Imperial guard Finon Kane, the man who'd enslaved and tortured you and hundreds of others, and escaped. You were free.

A laugh of pure and raw joy bubbled out of your chest as you clutched your satchel close to your chest. You'd done it, you'd actually done it. The other slaves had cheered you on as you made your grand escape, had laughed and whooped with you as you bested Master Kane. And now, you were free.

You barely felt the ship slip out of the atmosphere of the planet as you shoved to your feet. Now was the tricky part—you had to hide from the Mandalorian until he docked somewhere else, and then you could-

A strong, gloved hand closed around your shoulder and whirled you around with such strength and speed that you could only yelp as you were pressed into the cool metal of the Crest's walls. One massive arm barred your throat, and the other held a blaster to your head. The Mando's grip was strong and he oozed confidence, but he was silent.

Silent as death, silent as the reaper in beskar armor.

His shining helmet tilted at you, and your heart dropped to your feet. He hadn't killed you yet, he just kept looking at you, inspecting you, almost testing to see if you were a threat or not. So, he wasn't a cold-blooded killer then. There was a heart, whether it was flesh or beskar, somewhere underneath his armor. You needed to exploit it, and fast.

A shaking smile made it onto your lips and you tried your best to seem as calm as he was, "A Mandalorian, and one with fine armor too. What a pleasant surprise."

"What are you doing on my ship?" Was all he gritted out, his tone rough and smooth all at once. A walking and living dichotomy that, against your better judgement, made your heart trip over itself.

"Is this your ship?" You noted, humming to yourself as your pulse thrummed, "I must have boarded without even looking, it seems so much like mine that I-"

The blaster moved closer to your skin and your words died, your eyes widening as the Mandalorian stared you down through his mask, "The truth, stowaway."

It wasn't a question, but a demand. Flattery clearly wasn't getting you anywhere, so you needed to find a different way.

"I need safe passage," You honestly announced, your charming, hopeful smile still on your lips to persuade him you're not a threat, "And clearly, Mando, you need some help around here. I could be of service to you, I've got a great many skills!"

"Can you hunt?"

He didn't mean animals. That was when you realized this Mandalorian was a bounty hunter, and you cursed every star for crossing your fate into bad luck.

"No, but I-"

"Can you fight?" He interrupted, his voice a calm and collected drill.

"Well, not particularly, but if you'd just-"

"Can you fix the ship?"

You were getting frustrated now.

"Never really been good with mechanics, but-"

"Then you are of no use to me." He decided, letting go of you and holstering his blaster. He stepped back and shuffled through one wall of his ship, looking for something, "I'll dock at the next inhabited planet and turn you over to-"

It was his turn to be cut off, but not by you. Instead, the whooshing of a cabin door opening followed by a child's giggle makes his words die out. Surprise skittered through you at the site. A child. This large, rough Mandalorian Bounty Hunter was taking care of a...a child?

As he stormed over to the little thing, he muttered soft chiding to it before picking it up gently in the hands that just held your life. The child nestled into the crook of his arm, batting its massive eyes up at him lovingly.

And, against every warning and better judgement, your heart, your very soul, melted at the site.

"You're a bounty hunter with a kid?" You asked boldly, stepping forward towards the beskar-coated hunter that turned sharply around to you, the kid still in his strong arms, "And what do you do with it when you're on jobs?"

"He stays here or comes with me," he rasps out simply. You let out a short, unbelieving laugh.

"And you say you don't need my help," You chide, being bolder than you should be and stepping up to the pair. The Mandalorian freezes as you brazenly pluck the child out of his arms, cradling the little one into your torso.

The pure shock of what you've just done makes Mando stand awkwardly, unmoving and sputtering for a moment as he tries to respond. Whatever he's saying keeps dying on his tongue as he watches the child giggle and play with your hair, nuzzling into you the way he was just doing to him.

"I can take care of him while you're on hunts," You reason, looking up at the Mando with a bright, unwavering smile, "And, as I was going to say before you rudely interrupted,"

This shocked the bounty hunter even more. The audacity of this woman, who could neither kill nor fight, to be so bold with him? It struck him into an astonished silence.

"I may not have any of the skills you listed," You continued, looking up at the Mandalorian with his child in your arms, "But I'm amazing at sneaking into places. I'm not a killer, but I'm sure a bounty hunter like yourself could use a good thief."

He crosses his arms at this, cocking his head at you in a way that makes you imagine his face with risen brows and a taunting gaze, "Obviously the sneaking part isn't your strong suit."

"Hey, I got in here, didn't I?" You challenged, holding his gaze before looking down at cooing at the child, "Besides, your little one likes me, don't you sweetheart?"

"Could you give him back, please?"

"What was that?" You hummed, tilting your ear towards the child before smiling at it once more, "I couldn't agree more. Your father does need to lighten up."

The Mandalorian sputtered at her words, not understanding how a little thing like you could have rendered him completely speechless and without knowledge of what to do next. No hunt he's ever been on has ever done that to this extent, and yet here you were. A stowaway that, as much as Din wanted to ignore, needed help. You tried to hide it behind your smiles and remarks, but he could see the desperation in your eyes, the worry in your soul.

You needed help, and damn it all he was going to give it to you.

Din cursed himself beneath his breath, shaking his head at you. If the Guild members knew what a softie he was under this armor he'd lose his entire reputation. He could slaughter targets without faltering, but throw in a child and a smartass stowaway and his spine leaves him.

"I'm not his father," The Mandalorian rebuts, but you can hear the lie in his tone, "I'm just looking out for him"

You scoffed at that, "Leaving him alone, taking him on dangerous hunts? Not things a good father would do."

"Hey I'm a great father!" His temper snapped, and you smiled smugly. You glanced up at him, tilting your head the way he'd just done to you.

"So you are his father?" You challenged.

The Mandalorian started and stopped three different sentences before he let out a defeated grunt and walked towards a far wall of the Crest. He slammed his hand onto a button and the door whizzed open to reveal a spare bedroom with three cots. A hope-filled, bright smile lit up your lips.

He was going to let you stay.

"You can sleep here. You'll earn your keep how you promised, but what I say goes, is that clear?" He ordered, staring you down. Your smile widened, and you noted to your memory the soft side the Mandalorian had that you'd bet only a few people had seen.

"I can't thank you enough, Mando," You responded, and he could see that you meant it. You handed him the child and moved to set your satchel, all that was left of your life, in the room he'd opened.

"Don't mention it." His voice of gravel ordered, and you heard him walking away. You couldn't ignore the sense of safety that he radiated, especially because you hadn't felt safe like this in years.

Thinking he was gone, your smile dropped as you sank onto the cot and rested your head against the cool metal.

"I'm free," You whispered, almost to ensure it was real. A genuine, small smile worked its way onto your lips and into your soul, "I'm free."

The Mandalorian watched from the other side of the ship, and he couldn't help the way his heart tugged. He didn't understand why, but Din knew he cared more than he should have to make sure you stayed free, to make sure you'd smile like that again.

|||

You'd only meant to stay for a little while until you had enough credits and resources to make it on your own. And yet, here you were. It had been months and you still hadn't found a way to leave Din and the child.

He had found ways to make you stay. When he got used to your presence, he found that jobs often went easier with your expertise in stealth. The two of you became a team, and with the child it almost felt like...

Your mind stopped at the word that wanted to come next. Family. You hadn't had one in years, and it scared you because you knew you could do this forever. You'd begun to fall in love with Din Djarin the moment he'd picked up the child for the first time, and by now you were properly whipped.

Once the two of you had the bounty secured away, Din turned to you without leaving room for argument, "Sit down."

You did as he instructed, settling down on the cot in your room as Mando grabbed a med kit and walked back over to you. Even as he sat on the cot across from you, his massive frame shadowed your smaller one.

"Give me your arm," He said quietly, his voice sendings shivers racing down your spine that only worsened when he took your skin into his gloved hands.

He inspected it for a moment before humming, "It's not deep, it should heal quickly without bacta."

You were silent as he worked, something out of the ordinary for you and he knew it. As his skilled hands worked quickly, his modulated voice reached out to you, breaking the silence.

"What is it?"

You knew what he meant. Knowing that he could see through every lie you threw at him, you sighed and settled for the truth.

"Today...scared me."

The words surprised your Mandalorian as he went still before you, his hands faltering with the bandage for only a moment before he continued wrapping your cut.

"The hunt did?" He prodded. You shook your head.

"Seeing you lying there..." You began, and shook your head, the image stuck in your brain, "That's going to haunt me for a while, Din."

He tucked the end of the bandage in, and you kept your eyes down on his work. You couldn't stand to meet his masked-gaze, he'd see the emotion working its way through your eyes. One of his gloved hands hooks under your chin and tilts your head up softly to meet his gaze.

"You saved my life today," He said softly, his thumb brushing gently over your skin, "As much as I hate to admit it."

His words had their desired affect and you laughed softly, shaking your head at him as your soul lightened. Din was right, he was alive and well and it had a lot to do with you. The thought calmed you, but you couldn't hide the way it still scared the very depths of you.

"I should be apologizing to you," Mando started, but you cut him off.

"Din-"

"No, shut your mouth and listen to me for once." His voice was sharp, and it made you go silent with surprise. There wasn't cruelty or anger in that tone. Instead, you found it wavering with what you could have sworn was fear.

The Mandalorian moved his hand from your chin to hold more of your jaw, and with the movement you could hardly think straight, "I almost got you killed today. Had I woken up seconds later, you would have been that Trandoshan's target and not the other way around."

The words made your mouth go dry, and you tried to protest them but Din held you jaw with a gentle firmness and shook his head. It wasn't often that he preferred to do the talking, but you could see how bad he needed you to hear him.

"I'm sorry, cyar'ika. I'm so sorry"

You were stunned into silence. You'd never heard him say any of those words before, not sorry and certainly not cyar'ika. You knew what it meant, and it made your head spin. Slowly, so not to startle him, you lift your hands and rest them on the cool beskar of his helmet. He goes still and you can't help but smile softly at him

"There is nothing to forgive, Din."

His hand drops from your jaw and somehow finds its way absently resting on your waist. The touch sends fire shooting through you, and you have to blink a few times to focus.

"Besides, if I could count the number of times I almost got you killed..." You sentence ended naturally as you laughed softly, and he joined in. The sound was honey to your soul and it made you remember that you'd rather be here than anywhere else in the galaxy.

Much to your disappointment, he pulled away and stood surveying you through his mask, "I should go check on the kid. Get some rest."

And then he was gone, and you spent the rest of the night wondering what in the stars you were going to do.

|||

You docked at Tatooine soon after, the ship in dire need of a tune up.

The last few days had been strange. You'd thought the near death encounter would continue to keep the two of you close like it had that day in your room, but he seemed to be ignoring you at any and all costs. He only spoke to you when he needed to and even then it was clipped and short.

By the time you saw Peli, you were dying to slug him over the head with one of her wrenches.

"Well, well, if it isn't my favorite band of three," The mechanic greets, jogging out to meet you with a smile, "Where's my baby?"

Mirroring her smile, you handed the kid over to Peli who eagerly tucked him close, stroking his long ears and cooing to him softly, "I only tolerate you two for him, you know."

The two of you knew better.

"Can you watch over him for a few hours? We have business here." Mando gruffly stated. You furrowed your brows and glanced over at him.

Business? He hadn't mentioned that to you. Then again, he barely mentioned anything to you these last few days.

"Go, go," Peli shooed, already turning around and walking with the kid back to her lodgings, "He and I will make sure the Crest is all fixed up, won't we precious thing? He loves his favorite aunt, doesn't he?"

Aunt, which would make you and Mando his...You brushed away the thought, not letting it bring you hope or joy. You smiled once more at the mechanic before following Mando as he quickly exited the hangar.

"What business do we have?" You asked. He almost seemed like he was not going to reply before he did so without even glancing at you.

"You'll see."

Your patience was waning, but you went along with it nonetheless. You hadn't been walking long on the desert planet before Mando ushered you in a bar nearby. The business ended up being nothing more than a job hunt, leaving you confused as to why the Mandalorian was being so stand-offish. He'd collected a new round of pucks and then left you to spend your evening alone however you pleased. You didn't know where he went and you didn't quite care. He was being an asshole to you, so you could return the favor.

You returned rather quickly to the hangar and the Crest, finding there was nothing better to do. After a few hours of cards and gambling with Peli and her droids, Mando still hadn't returned and you decided to go ahead and tuck the child in for the night. Bidding you friends goodnight, you hoisted the kid into your arms and climbed the hatch to the Crest.

"What's going on with you father, hm?" You asked softly, bouncing him in your arms. He stared up at you with wide, dark eyes, drinking in every word you spoke.

You walked him over to his makeshift bed, sighing as you settled him in it. You spent a moment longer tracing a finger down his wrinkled skin, a saddened look flickering in your gaze.

"He's going to be the end of me," You whispered, and could've sworn the kid's eyes softened on you. You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his brow and walked out of his room, "Sweet dreams, little one."

When you shut the door, your eyes traveled to the bandage still tied securely around your wounded arm. Although Mando assured it would be alright, it hurt like hell. You made your way into your room, grabbing a med kit as you went. You set the kit down on your bed and opened it, about to tend to your would when you heard footsteps and then the hatch closing to the Crest.

Your heart leapt into your throat and you stepped away from the med kit and out of your room, your eyes traveling over the ship until you saw the flash of beskar in the dark, "Finally, you were starting to worry me."

"I'm sure I was," came Din's response, but his voice made you freeze.

You watched in shock for a moment as he turned and stumbled slightly as he walked towards where you stood. With wide eyes, you barely could speak, "Are you...drunk?"

The Mandalorian came closer to you, his massive body making you take a few steps back. He kept advancing until your back was pressed against the cool metal of the Crest's wall.

"Din," you whispered, your heart racing as he stopped before you, settling his forearms above your head and caging you in. You could hardly think straight with him like this.

"Close your eyes, cyar'ika." His voice came, low and rough and gentle and slurred.

"Din, what-"

"Close your eyes." He ordered again. With him this close to you, your inhibitions were all but gone and you did as he asked, shutting your eyes. Before you, you could hear him let out a long sigh.

"I was thinking," He started, followed by the moving of his arms away from the wall. You furrowed your brows at the absence of his presence, but before another thought could leave, you heard a sound that made your heart stop and your mind go blank.

You heard him take his helmet off.

"Din, you're drunk-" You couldn't make it past that before he was cutting in. He's never taken his helmet off around you, it was the creed. It was his life. He'd regret this in the morning.

"Shut up." He murmured, his body heat returning close to you. Your eyes stayed firmly shut as he told you too, that way it wouldn't break the code he lived by. You felt his hands touch your neck softly and jumped slightly in surprise at the absence of gloves, "I know what I'm doing. Just keep your eyes closed, mesh'la."

His skin. His skin was touching yours.

Your breathing hitched, and you knew when he settled those bare, rough hands onto your jaw that he did so in a manner to feel the thrum of your pulse in your neck. It was wildly racing, quicker than it ever had.

"I was thinking," He started again, running his thumbs over your skin and forever ruining you from contact with anyone else ever again, "That you almost died."

His low voice had taken on an edge of sadness and you nearly opened your eyes out of habit, but forced them to stay closed.

"You almost died, and I never got to know what those pretty lips of yours tasted like"

What in the stars was happening? Was this real? Were you going to wake up and find it was all a dream in a few moments? Or was this finally putting the last few days into context? Even after your talk, the hunt had messed him up and haunted him just as it had you. And now here he was, his breath fanning across your skin and his lips almost brushing against yours.

You never imagined this would happen, not in thirty lifetimes did you think you'd ever know what it would feel like to press your lips against Din Djarin's.

And yet, in the next second, you knew.

Without warning, he captured your lips with his and pressed his body against yours, keeping you against the wall. He grabbed your hands in one of his, pressing them together over your head to keep you from touching his face. As his lips worked desperately, hungrily, passionately against yours, your knees buckled and his free hand slipped around your waist, keeping you from falling.

This had to be a dream, it had to be. This couldn't be real, but it was. You knew that he was drunk and that he'd probably not remember this in the morning. You tried to pull away, tried to force yourself to stop but he held you fast, crushing your body against his and making you forget your own name with his tongue in your mouth.

You didn't want it to end, but you knew it would have to eventually. It would end and you would have to go back to pretending like you weren't in love with him.

As if you'd brought it about by just thinking it, Din's lips left yours. He wasn't kissing you, but he stayed so close that his nose touched yours.

"I'm sorry," He breathed, his lips brushing against yours.

And then he was gone.

You stood there with your eyes closed long after you heard his bedroom door shut. You cursed every star in the sky, because now that you knew what his skin felt like, every moment without it touching you was pure and unbridled torture. This torture was worse than any you'd felt under Master Finon Kane and his troopers.

When you slept that night, you dreamt of Din's lips on yours.

|||

In the morning, you didn't know whether or not Din was going to continue ignoring you, address what happened last night, or pretend like the last few days haven't even happened. When you greeted him in the belly of the ship and he he greeted you the same as he has for months before heading off to find bounties, you realized it would be the last option.

Anything was better than the blatant ignoring, but having him act normal around you was horrific in itself.

"Hey little guy," You greet the child, a smile on your lips as you reached down and stroked his ear. He giggled up at you just as the Mandalorian walked up the hatch and into the Crest.

"So," You began, watching him set down the bag of pucks he collected in town. He goes still for a moment, but keeps his helmet firmly away from you.

"So," He repeats, sounding utterly anxious but trying to play it cool. It makes humor curl in your gut and you decide to push you luck.

"What's the plan for today?" You ask, and from the sigh he lets out you can see he was expected something regarding last night.

"Picked up some pucks in town, we can go through 'em and see what we can do." He responds. You nod, reaching down a hand and letting the child play with you finger.

"So getting drunk isn't in the cards, then?"

The sharp intake of breath from the Mandalorian nearly makes you crack with laughter. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep your humor at just the smile on your lips.

"No." Din replies gruffly.

"That's a shame," You sigh, looking up at him finally to find him already facing you and the child, "I like drunk you. He's fun."

"I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry." He states, making your humor dissipate in record speed. You hold his beskar-covered gaze for a moment, feeling the phantom scrape of his calloused hands on your skin and the touch of his lips to yours.

"Which part?" You ask, holding your breath in a way that made it clear whatever he said next would cement something between the two of you. He stays silent for a long while before walking up to you, the child between the two of you. He reaches down and strokes the kid's head lovingly before looking to you.

"Which part do you want to be the mistake?" Din whispers, the gravel of his tone silky smooth as it caresses you. He's playing with you, you suddenly realize. You played with him with the drunk comment and he's playing back, testing to see which of you will break first.

You have to smother your smile before it can make it to your face.

"Careful Mando," You respond, your tone barely stable, "You've got a clan of two to protect. I-"

"Three."

He interrupts you with such a sure, calm voice that you almost miss what he says, "What?" You whisper, your teasing gone.

"Three," Din repeats, "Clan of three."

Before you can respond, a nonsensical babble from below makes the two of you look down to see a confused and yet very aware child. His smalls hands are holding your fingers and Din's hand is on his ear, and for a moment it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

But then you and Din come to your senses, and you mutually decide to push off the game of testing the tension until it breaks again.

"We should go through those pucks," Din states, walking away and to the sack he set down earlier. With a smile that you're glad he doesn't see, you wonder how much longer you can go without telling him what he really is to you. You repeat what he said to you in your mind.

Clan of three.

Mando dumps out the bounty pucks, sorting through them as you lean against the wall, your arms crossed and giving your input with each one he clicks open.

"Another mercenary, set on Naboo." Mando announces, the picture of the target hovering over the puck. You click your tongue.

"After the Trandoshan, I think we should take a break from mercenaries," You advise, earning a nod of agreement from Din. He sets the puck aside and grabs another, clicking it on.

"This one's on Tatooine, but I think I'm ready to see something besides this desert planet," The Mandalorian notes, and you hum your agreement.

"Trees would be nice, like on Felucia" You add, an absentminded smile growing on your face, "Or maybe a nice water planet."

"Water and this armor don't go together, mesh'la"

You smirk at him from your spot at the wall, "All the more reason to go."

His sudden laugh is enough to make every sorrow remotely near your mind melt away. Everything is back to normal, everything is going well, everything is beautiful.

Until he clicks open the next puck.

That's when your world comes crashing down.

The silence that settles over the cabin is thick and unlike the comfortable one you are used to. Mando goes as still as death before you, his body taught under his armor. Horror, real and true, washes over every fiber of your being.

Because that's your picture on the bounty puck, and the one who put it out is Finon Kane.

No. No. This isn't real, this isn't happening.

Din says your name, slow and guarded.

No, not when everything was perfect. Not when you'd found your family, your clan.

You begin to shake your head, all of those years of torture and darkness roaring through your mind. You'd just begun to forget it all, truly forget it all.

But you guess it's true what they say, you really can't run from your past forever.

"Y/N, what-"

You're shoving through the Crest towards your room, leaving Din in stunned silence until he comes to his senses and follows.

"Where is it, where is it, where is it?" You mumble, blinding panic tearing you apart as you rummage wildly through your belongings. It only takes a few seconds before your hands close around your satchel, and your chest doesn't loosen even an inch when you lift it and find it still heavy with the item that is dooming you.

You clutch the satchel close and sling it across your body, standing to leave your room only to find Din blocking the path with his massive body.

"Cyar'ika, what's going on?" His voice is commanding as usual, but it holds an edge of panic that you can't deny.

You feel like a cornered animal, and your fingers clutch the strap of your bag tightly.

"Mando, move." You plead, moving to go around him only for him to grab your shoulders and pull you back.

"No, Mando move!' You beg, pulling against his hold, "Din please."

"Stop it!" He orders, holding you fast, his chest heaving with worried breaths. He stares at you for a moment before it seems to click in his mind, "What were you running from?"

You know what he refers to, you mind zipping back to that moment when you stowed away on his ship. Your silent for a long while, your panic not lowering an ounce. You've always felt safe with Din, always. You long to tell him everything, to let him help you because you know he'd never hunt you. You'd feel safe, but you wouldn't be safe.

The Mandalorian couldn't protect you from this, but you could protect him from it.

"I stole something," You whisper, your voice barely above a breath, "And my old master won't stop until he has it and me."

"What did you take?" Mando asks, his tone flooded with calculation as he tries to figure a way out of this, "If we hunt him down first, we can-"

"Din," Your voice breaks as you cut in, placing one hand on the beskar chest plate and longing for the feel of his skin again, "My reaper has come for me. And I can't let him take you too"

Before he can get out another sentence, you use your free hand to search in your satchel until your fingers close around the cool metal of what doesn't belong to you.

Then you pull out the lightsaber you stole and crack the butt of it so hard against the Mandalorian's helmet that he drops to the floor, unconscious.

He taught you that move with a blaster.

And now, you've saved his life with it.

You stand for a moment in silence, your heart slowly shattering in your chest as you look down at the love of your life. Tears cloud your vision, and you look up to see the child looking at you with confused eyes. You break, a sob wracking your body as you bend down to the Mandalorian's slumped body grip his gloved hand, pulling it up to place a kiss to his palm.

"I'm sorry," Your words mirror his from last night, and then you're pocketing the lightsaber that once belonged to the Empire and running out of the Razor Crest.

You're now his bounty, and if he knows what's good for him he'll let this one go.

Let you go.

||| Din Djarin

When the Mandalorian awoke, he was alone.

There was one heart-breaking moment of confusion as he sat up from his slumped position on the floor. It wasn't silent, but there was something missing in the array of noises. There was no laughter, no yelling. There was no light-hearted remarks, no sarcastic punches.

There was no her.

The thought jarred him so deeply from his newly-conscious muddled mind that he shoved himself to his feet, his heart pounding so loud in his chest that he could feel every thrum.

This wasn't happening. She wouldn't have just left, she wouldn't.

He stumbled out of her small room, his gaze wildly shooting around the Razor Crest. The child lay exactly where Din remembered, right before...

What the hell happened? How did he-

The memories came back in a rush—the hand on his chest that had distracted him as her other hand grabbed something from her satchel, something metal and cylindrical. She'd hit him with it, whipped it across his head like he'd taught her. She must've gotten the blaster...no, it wasn't a blaster. It was...it was...

Stars

A lightsaber. She'd stolen a lightsaber all those months ago.

The thought made his head spin and it took a great deal of effort to keep his knees from buckling. Whenever she'd spoken of her past, it had been vague. Mentions of an Imperial encampment even after the Empire's fall, the shoving of her city into slavery, the torture she endured at the hands of her master.

The very thought made him clench his jaw. The first time she'd spoken about this Finon Kane, he'd wanted to find him and slaughter him with his bare hands for ever laying a finger on her. And now...now he had a bounty on her and Din wasn't there to protect her.

The thought spurred him back into action. Din scooped up the child into his hands before rocketing down the hatch of the Crest and towards where Peli worked with her droids. The mechanic seemed slightly nervous, almost as if she was avoiding his gaze.

"Mando, off to do a hunt?" She asked, trying to sound casual and failing. Din didn't falter as he walked up and shoved the child into her arms. Peli startled as she took the kid, looking up at Din with wide eyes. She couldn't see the Mandalorian's face, but it was clear to anyone the pure, guttural rage tangling with a panic he's never known.

"What-"

"Where did she go?" He demanded. The mechanic sputtered for a moment, holding the child close.

"I don't know what you mean," Peli tried, and Din almost growled.

"Peli if you don't tell me where she went I will rip your tongue out," Din snarled. The woman looked at him desperately, her gaze torn.

"She told me not to tell you, Mando. How do I know you're not going to..." Her words died out and it took every ounce of Din's restraint to keep from yelling again.

"Hurt her?" He finished for the mechanic, his voice just as lethal when it was quiet, "She's in danger, Peli. Real danger, and if you don't tell me where she went someone else is going to find her first and she'll...she'll-"

He could't get the words out, couldn't hide the panic flooding his tone. Din didn't know what he'd do if someone else found her first, he couldn't even comprehend that she wasn't with him right now. He didn't think he'd ever have to know what it felt like for her to be absent. The mechanic softened immediately, letting out a long sigh.

"She didn't say exactly where she was going," Peli finally admitted, holding the kid tighter, "Just that she needed to get as far away as she could as fast as possible. When I asked, she said something remote, something green. She took the spare ship in the hangar an hour ago."

Mando didn't need an exact answer to know where she was going, he knew. With a brisk nod of his head, he gestured at the kid as he walked towards the Crest, "Watch him for me?"

Peli nodded, "Of course. Do you think she'll...do you think she'll be okay?"

The Mandalorian stopped, looking over his shoulder slightly so that the mechanic was in this peripheral vision.

"If she isn't, I'll burn the planet down."

With that he was getting on the Crest, his heart hammering in his chest and fear, real fear, flooding every part of his being. He shut the hatch and practically vaulted into the cockpit. Din threw himself into the captain's seat and swiveling to face the control panel. He didn't hesitate as he put in the coordinates. She mentioned trees earlier, and he knew the way she thought, knew she was smart enough to go somewhere with more jungles than cities right now.

Felucia.

He'd go, he'd find her, he'd knock her upside the head for running away from him, and he'd get her back.

And stars help anyone he’s found has so much as touched her.

||| You

It was strange, being on the run again.

Even though it hadn't even been a full year since you last were sprinting from your reaper, it has felt like a lifetime because of your company. Time slowed down with Din Djarin, and for a long while you felt safe, protected, home.

And now you were scrambling around, planet to planet, in the dark alleyways and through dense, uninhabited forests to put distance between you and...

You stopped for a moment, your back pressed up against a tree in the rich, winding forest of Felucia. Who were you trying to put distance between?

Finon Kane, his squadron of stormtroopers, and the only real family you've ever had.

That last one sent a spear of heart-wrenching pain racketing through you. Typical, so very typical, to find something so worth having and to think the galaxy would let you keep it. This galaxy was cold and cruel, it was a better thief than you'd ever be and you knew it, you knew it. And yet you let yourself get close anyways. It's a strange thing what love can do. It made you reckless enough to think that for once, just once, the galaxy would let you make it away with what you found.

It turns out you aren't as good of a thief as you thought, because the happiness you stole has been returned, and your time playing at a good life has run out.

You picked up your brutal pace again, trekking through the jungle and refusing to stop for even the barest of needs unless it was unavoidable. This would never end, this hunt. As you moved, the lightsaber in your bag banged against your hip, reminding you of what had gotten you into this mess in the first place.

You shouldn't have taken it, you really shouldn't have, but you couldn't stand to watch Master Kane take another slave's life with a weapon that didn't belong to him. He'd found it in the rubble of the fallen Empire and he thought he was entitled to it. It had been used as a weapon of terror during the Imperial rule and then after because of your master, and taking it? You'd not only done it so the weapon could be given back to the New Republic where it belonged, but because after everything he'd done to you, after all of the scars you bore because of Finon Kane, you'd wanted to hurt him. You had wanted him to feel every ounce of pain and desperation you had, and for that cause, you were willing to pay the price that was now due.

The jungle-covered planet would do well to hide you for a little while, give you time to gather up some credits in case you needed to run again. You walk around a grove of trees, the jungle beginning to thin the closer you get to a city. As you do, a sound you're all too familiar with makes you stop dead in your tracks.

A steady beeping, consistently increasing as it gets louder.

A tracking fob.

You barely have time to scramble around to the back of a thick tree when a blaster sounds out behind you, singing the side of the tree where you'd just been standing.

"Come on out, thief! I get more credits for bringing you in alive." The gruff voice of a bounty hunter wafts out to you, a hint of smugness in her tone.

Your mind is grappling for options as you sprint away from your tree and towards another thicket up ahead. Your feet are silent on the grassy floor and you deftly miss any roots in your path, so the bounty hunter doesn't notice you at first. When she does, it's made known by the firing of the blaster at your back.

Gratefully, the hunter has horrible aim.

Blast after blast burn into the trees around you, so you continue to stick close to them as you run. How the hunter found you is incomprehensible, but you don't waste time worrying about that matter and sprint for your life towards the city that thrives just outside the jungle's end. The only tricky thing would be making it across the large clearing between the end of the trees you were approaching and the city gates up ahead.

"Get back here!" The hunter shouts to you, falling further and further behind.

You allow the hint of a smile, but don't dare to slow down. The end of the jungle is growing nearer, and it's only a minute or so of sprinting before you're at the city g-

Another bounty hunter steps out from around the last tree in the clearing, a blaster held lazily in his hands. You skid to a stop so suddenly that your feet slip on the floor and you have to catch yourself with a hand to the jungle floor to keep from falling on your ass. You whirl around to go back the way you came only to come face to face with the other hunter ho had already been pursuing you approaching, her chest heaving with breath but her blaster lifted nonetheless.

"Nowhere to run, thief," The one behind you lilts, his voice heavy with experience and sounding almost bored, "Surrender now and I'll let you keep your life."

"I saw her first, the bounty's mine!" The first hunter grits, her eyes flicking from your face and to the hunter behind you. You turn halfway to keep them both in your vision, your heart pounding in your chest.

"You would've lost her if it wasn't for me," The other counters, both of their blasters lowered slightly. You would make a run for it, but you're directly in the middle of the quarrel, and they'd have you dead in seconds. So, you do the only thing that can save you, the thing you've wanted to do for months now.

You pull the lightsaber from your satchel, clutch it in both hands, and turn it on.

The argument between the hunters dies as a burning blade, as red as death and blood and anguish, ignites into the green of the forest. The two colors clash, one seeming wrong with the other, but you clutch it nonetheless and move before they can lift their weapons again.

"That's a..." The male hunter stands shell-shocked, his words dying as he watches you advance on the female hunter who has already begun firing at you.

You're clumsy with the foreign weapon, but her bad aim and you're mild understand of how to move the saber allows the blasts and blade of the same color to clash as they collide, saving you from the death her weapon assures.

Her weapon may bring death, but yours is death.

She nearly blasts your head off, but you manage to shove the lightsaber through her middle before she gets another shot out. Her strangled gasp followed by the thud of her body into the ground nearly makes you falter, but the sound of the other hunter approaching snaps you out of your own mind. It was you or them, you assure yourself.

You'd wounded the other hunter quickly, grounding him before turning the saber off and sprinting for the city ahead. As you did, you shoved the blade into your satchel and barreled through the open gates, the merchants and travelers bustling through gasping and yelping as you shoved through them. The second you were inside, you stopped running and allowed yourself to meld into the crowd, walking in their flow and moving in their manners. It was mere seconds before you were blended into their midst, the only difference between you and them being your heaving chest and singed clothes from a blast or two that got dangerously close.

You thought you'd made it out before a figure shot out of the alleyway you were passing.

A gasp left your lips as they grabbed you and tugged you inside faster than you could comprehend. Before you could reach for the saber in your satchel, the bag was ripped clean off your shoulder, nearly dislocating the limb in the process and making a cry of pain leave your lips. The sound couldn't even make it fully out before you were being pressed against the sand wall of a building with the steel edge of a blade at your throat.

Your eyes were wide and wild as they took in your surroundings—two hunters surrounded you expectantly, not counting the one holding you at knifepoint. They must have agreed to a split bounty and a temporary alliance.

"Check the bag," The one holding you grunts out. On command, one of the two standing around you searches the bag he'd ripped clean off, his hand rummaging through until a sickening smile lit up his lips. Slowly, he pulled the lightsaber out.

"It's here." His response was smug and nauseating. You knew this was going to happen, but you thought you'd have a least a bit more time before it did.

"Haven't seen a real lightsaber before," The other muses, the two of them in the back looking over the silver and gold-plated handle, "You're going to make us rich, girl"

"Give it-" You struggled against the hold of the hunter only for the knife to cut down into the tender skin of your neck, making your words collapse into a breathy cry of pain. He kept the knife embedded slightly into your skin, his eyes boring into yours as a smirk captured his lips, "Move again, and I'll knick an artery on accident. Then, we can see how long it will take for the life to drain out of your eyes."

The word accident rolled off his tongue with a promise, and you fought back a shiver of fear. The press of the burning steel in your flesh was agonizing, and you realized all at once that you were going to die. Whether it was here and now with this group of hunters or when they handed you off to Finon Kane, you were going to die.

The thought made your body grow suddenly cold.

You'd spent so many years thinking that you'd never have a family again, that you'd never know what it meant to love and be loved. It became your bleak reality, and then you quite literally stumbled into the two individuals that would become your entire world.

It was selfish of you to stay, so damn selfish. Deep down, you had known that Kane would put a bounty on your head, that he'd find you one day and make you pay for every bit of trouble he'd endured because of you. Yet you did it anyway. You stayed and you let yourself grow attached beyond hope.

You let yourself fall in love, and that was possibly the worst of the sins you'd committed.

And, just like the other sins, you had thought you could run from that one, thought its penance would never arrive. Now here you were, facing death at the hands of those in the very same profession as your Mandalorian while he was far away on Tatooine, probably wondering what had gone wrong. You knew you'd hurt both him and the child by leaving, but you would rather they be hurt and alive than dead.

"Now," The one holding you announces, stepping back and easing the knife out of your throat, "It's time to bring you to your master in top shape."

You barely had time to register the warm blood trickling down your neck from the cut of the hunter's knife before his fist was cracking against your cheek. The force of the unexpected blow slammed your head into the wall and brought you crashing to the ground. Your groan was just out of your mouth when the next blow came, this one to your ribs. A cry of pure agony slipped out as a loud crack resounded amongst your rib cage with the powerful kick, making tears collect in your eyes.

You felt utterly helpless as you desperately tried to lift yourself off of the ground, but you were so tired. You were utterly exhausted, and it took every ounce of your strength to pull out your beskar knife and slash the tendons along the back of one of the hunter's heels. Purple blood sprayed and he shouted, collapsing to the floor beside you.

"Get back here, you little bitch!" One seethed, grabbing you by your hair and yanking you up to your knees. Before your eyes could focus on where he was, you slashed with your knife. He must have seen it coming because he grabbed your wrist in a bruising grip.

"Drop the knife," He growled, one of his hunter companions still on the floor clutching his ankle and the other standing by the one who held you, the lightsaber handle in his hands.

"Give me the saber," You bargained breathlessly, your voice crutched with torment.

The hunters didn't like that very much, and the one holding the saber slammed it against your cheek. You took the hit with a groan, enough pain already crawling through you that you barely even felt it.

"This isn't a negotiation," The one holding you gritted, "Drop. The. Knife."

It was stupid, and you knew that you should just listen at this point, but you couldn't stop yourself from lifting your chin stubbornly and holding his gaze, "You'll have to break my hand."

"With pleasure," He snarled, his grip tightening on your wrist. Before he could snap it, a low, modulated voice rasped into the alley.

"Break her hand, and I'll make sure your death is the slowest."

You shut your eyes instantly, your shoulders loosening with both relief and agony. He'd come for you. Din had found you, and you couldn't stop the bittersweet feeling crashing through your soul. You wanted to hate him for it, wanted to scream at him and knock the sense of your desertion into his brain. But you knew you weren't capable of hating Din Djarin, not even if you wanted to. Especially not now as he stood like a dark angel in the entrance to the alleyway, glowering with rage wholly directed at the hunters left standing.

"This is our bounty, Mandalorian," The one holding the lightsaber sneered, "Find another-"

He was dead before his sentence could complete, his neck twisted at a wrong angle from where Mando had snapped it with his bare hands.

That made the one holding your wrist let go of you instantly.

"Y-You can have her, she's all y-yours Mandalorian." He stumbled back, running into his downed companion who had finally managed to limp to his feet.

Din didn't respond as he stooped slowly, grabbing the lightsaber and slipping it along his holster. He was as silent as death as he stalked up to you, his beskar clinking slightly in the tense silence. You were still on the floor, your skin bloody and your heart pounding so fast you thought it would burst. You wanted to crash into him and hold him, never letting go. You wanted to let him take you back to the Razor Crest and help you figure all of this out. You were safe with him. But he wasn't safe with you, and neither was the child. You had to protect the child, you had to protect Din.

The two remaining hunters were frozen in terror, trapped in the dead end alley like cornered prey. Din stopped in front of you, his mask peered down at you as his hand reached out. Much gentler than you could even imagine, his hand softly gripped your chin and tilted it upwards and to the side so he could see the blossoming, nasty bruise on your cheek.

His gentle fingers were in a fierce dichotomy with the rigid, furious posture of his body. Mando slid them down, leaving lightning where he touched as he lightly traced the cut in your neck. Your gaze locked with his mask, and he held it for a long minute. Then, he dropped his hand and cocked his head over at the two hunters.

"Which one cut you, cyar'ika?" His voice was dark and tender all at once, and it sent a shiver racing down your spine.

"The one limping," You responded without hesitation, your eyes up on him as he nodded once and began to stalk towards the two hunters.

Confusion rippled across their features, and the one who hadn't cut you was quick to shove his ally in front of him. Their loyalty only ran monetary, and even though you knew it wouldn't save his life he had to try.

"What are you doing? I t-thought you were a hunter!" The hunter who the Mandalorian had his sights on was shaking with terror, and it brought you a wicked sense of justice.

"I am."

The next few moments passed in a mess of beskar and knives and blood. The last remaining hunter could only watch in horror as Din ripped his colleague apart with a confidence that could make any skilled fighter wary. The man's pleas and cries were shrill, and the people on the main road were wise enough to keep walking as they passed.

Then, it was quiet. And Din turned to the last hunter pressed against the wall across from you.

"No, please. I'll tell you anything you want, I'll give you anything please!" He begged, but his hurried words were cut off by Din's hand on his throat. He tugged the hunter close, his beskar helmet splattered with blood.

"If you find anyone taking her bounty, tell them what happened here. Make sure they know they will suffer the same fate. Understand?" Din's tone was taught with thinly veiled anger, and you could tell that it was an effort to keep from killing the man.

The hunter nodded briskly, his eyes wide and his legs trembling. When the Mandalorian finally released him, he was sprinting out of the alley, leaving a tense silence to settle over the two of you that remained. Din turned towards where you still sat on the ground, and as he walked over you were suddenly aware of the conversation that was about to happen, the anger he was about to rain upon you.

Mando extended a hand down to you, which you took and gladly accepted his help as you stood. Your hand gingerly pressed against your cracked rib, every breath and every minuscule movement sending sharp, shooting pain through the area, "You alright?"

"I will be," You nearly whispered, you eyes locked onto his brooding, helmeted stare. There was only mere inches between the two of you, and you knew that if you stayed this close, you wouldn't be able to leave again. You went to step back, but he tightened his hold on your hand enough to keep you close.

"Let me go," You breathed, the words meaning more than just physically.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Din gritted out, his voice conveying the worry and hurt and anger that his mask hid. His voice broke your heart.

"Din, you have to let me go." You were almost begging now, and you could feel the tears welling in your eyes. He shifted his hold so that he was holding both of your hands, probably to keep you from reaching for the saber at his belt.

"Not again," He vowed, his usually collected voice portraying how barely bridled his emotions were, "Not until you tell me why the hell you left me."

You were silent for a moment, trying desperately to find a way to speak without showing just how deeply this was shattering your heart, your soul.

"Did you really think I would turn you in? That I would collect your bounty?" Din asked finally, his voice breaking.

"No," Your shaky voice finally began to work, growing stronger by the moment, "That's the thing, Mando. You wouldn't, which means when these hunters came looking for me, they'd find you and the child."

"You think I can't protect you?"

"Din, I have never known safety until I met you," You swore, the tears collecting in your eyes beginning to fall, "But the man who's hunting me, Finon Kane? He will stop at nothing until he has me and the lightsaber. If I had stayed, I would be giving you and the child a death sentence."

"Y/N, you're staying with me." The Mandalorian asserts, his voice trembling. You shake your head, your tears falling steadier now.

"Din please, you have to leave me here. Protect the child, it's your duty. You have to forget you ever knew me, forget I was ever with you, forget me."

"You think I could do that?" He cuts in abruptly, tugging you closer to show the urgency and truth of his words, "You think I could ever walk away and just forget you?"

His words were dangerous, and you tried to stop him, "DIn-"

"You have ruined me, ner cyar'ika. Every moment I spend away from you is torture, it's a moonless night that never ends."

His words leave you breathless, your eyes wide and your heart stumbling in your chest as you try and fail to find a response. He won't let you speak, though.

"The child and you? You are my clan, my family. You two are all that I have, and I am nothing without you," He's so close now that you can almost hear the unmodulated tone of his voice. Din lets go of one of your hands to rest at the base of your neck and bring your head close to his. What he does next...it's a moment that will forever be etched into your brain.

He brings his forehead to yours, and he leaves it there for a moment. The cool metal of his helmet bleeds into your skin, and you can't stop the soft gasp that leaves your lips. You grab onto his beskar-plated chest for support because you know what this is. On easy nights, Din would often sit and tell you stories of the Mandalorian culture. He spoke once or twice of the Keldabe kiss, a gesture meant to show love and affection. The meaning of this moment was not lost on you, and it nearly ripped out your heart to think that he could...that he could love you back. He possibly loved you and now you were about to die.

"I'm not leaving you," Din murmured, the cool beskar of his mask pulling away from your forehead. You felt the cool metal of something pressing into your hands and you look down to see him handing you the lightsaber, "We'll end this together."

You couldn't look away from him, couldn't bring yourself to walk away again. You were being selfish and stupid, but with what just happened, with what Din had just said, you couldn't leave him.

You simply nodded, "Okay."

Din nodded as well, stepping back from you, "Okay."

There was a moment of tension between the two of you, a moment where each was waiting for the other to say something more, to mention those three words that had yet to be spoken. You watched him walk towards the alley exit, following slowly behind. He'd begun to say some sort of strategy, but you weren't listening. You didn't know what was going to happen next, you didn't know how much time you had. You needed to say it, and you needed to say it now before you lost this chance.

"Mando?" You cut in, making him pause and look over at you as you entered the streets of Felucia, "I love you"

The Mandalorian froze, his muscles going taught. The bustling world around you seemed to dull for a moment, and all that was left was you and him. Your heart pounding in your chest and you felt your breaths getting shorter and shorter as you waited for his response.

You heard Din take in a breath to respond, but someone beat him to it.

"So this is what you've been doing all this time."

It was your turn to freeze, and your gaze was still locked on the Mandalorian's as your eyes went wide with fear, with terror. You knew that voice. You'd know that voice if the galaxy ended and then begun again a hundred times over.

Slowly, you turned to face Master Finon Kane and the six storm troopers that flanked him.

"I believe you have something of mine," Kane cut straight to the chase, his troopers making quick work of clearing the street while he stood not ten paces from you. Your fingers tightened around the handle of the lightsaber still in your grasp, and you saw Kane's eyes dart down to it.

"Hand it over now, and I might consider killing you. Your Mandalorian doesn't scare me."

There was no hiding the blatant horror inundating you. Those words, you knew what they meant. You preferred death to what you knew life with Kane would promise. Staring into his eyes, you were reliving every moment of pain you'd endured at his hands—every beating, execution, and humiliation, they haunted you.

You didn't know when Din had moved to your side, but you felt the nudge of his body next to yours, and it knocked you from your spiral. He was letting you know that he was there, that he wasn't going anywhere. And, looking at the odds, you could honestly say that the two of you had fared worse.

“Stand down and I’ll make your death quick,” you fire back, your voice surprisingly strong. Kane barked out a laugh as the six troopers fell into line behind him.

"You can't kill me, pet. You know it and so do I." With a flick of his fingers, his troopers were moving, two next to Kane and four fanning out in front of us.

"I know that," You responded quietly, but not weakly. Your fingers barely brushed against Din's hand, the movement so small it was imperceptible to those before you, but the way his fingers touched yours gave you the assurance that you were about to make the right move, "But he can."

The troopers couldn't even raise their blasters before Din and you moved on them. The next few moments were a blur, shining beskar and frantic blasts missing their targets as Din cut down the troopers with ease. You could hear feel the blast of the fire caster on his wrist as he incinerated two more.

He had four dead before you could even turn on the lightsaber.

Your eyes shot to Kane's, whose were wide with shock and a bleat of panic when he saw your hands move to grasp the lightsaber before you.

"Don't-"

His cry died in his throat when the red saber born of a bleeding, hate-filled kyber crystal ignited before you. You barely new how to use it, but it wasn't difficult to shove the burning side into the armor of the troopers.

Then, it was silent.

Din sauntered up beside you, standing tall and strong with his helmet cocked intimidatingly at Kane. You didn't turn off the lightsaber, but let its red light cast a vengeful glow across your features.

"You think you're so clever," Finon Kane spat, his desperation betraying him, "You think you could so easily b-"

His words were cut off by the hiss of a lightsaber meeting flesh, and something in your chest loosened as you looked up from where you had shoved the saber deep into his belly. Your old master's eyes were wide and his mouth gaping. He was shocked, he really hadn't thought you could do it.

"For every friend of mine you slaughtered," You grit out, shoving the lightsaber an inch deeper and making him cry out in pain, "Their souls are avenged."

He was dead before his body hit the ground, and you simply sheathed your lightsaber, looked to your Mandalorian, and walked away. You didn't realize that you were trembling until the two of you walked outside the city gates and Din's hand grabbed onto yours, large and warm and sure. The Razor Crest sat waiting ahead of you, and you nearly buckled and sobbed in relief.

"It's over," You whispered, you eyes dazed and your words no more than a breath as the gravity of what just happened crashed over you.

You stopped walking in front of your beloved ship, turning to face Din as he did you, "I'm...I'm free"

You let out a breathy, wild, joyous laugh and launched forward, wrapping your arms around the Mandalorian's neck. He paused only for a moment before you felt him melt into you, his hands slipping around your waist and holding you closer than life.

"Thank you, Din," You whispered, your words a vow and a prayer, "I am forever in your debt."

His hold on you tightened, one hand slipping up your back to hold more of you to him, "You owe me nothing. Your life is yours to hold, you are no longer in the service of any master."

Tears you hated to acknowledge slipped down your cheeks, and you were glad to be pressed so close to him so that he couldn't see them fall. He knew, though. He knew.

You didn't want to pull away, didn't want to know again what it felt like to be away from him. Eventually, it could not be avoided. You wanted to get on the Crest and fly away from this place, to bring your life back to the normal you'd fallen so deeply in love with, the one with the child and the bounties and the adventure and him. Especially him.

"Now," You announced, your tone light and jovial as you pulled away and looked up at Mando with a smile, "Where's the child? I'm sure he's been miserable without me,"

You began to walk up to the Crest, but you hadn't realized that the Mandalorian hadn't followed you until his voice called out and made you pause.

"He's with Peli, safe and sound."

You stopped in your step and turned around to see Din walking slowly up to where you stood. Something in his tone made your heart jolt. Your voice was no more than an unsure whisper when you spoke next, "That's good."

Din hummed, and the sound made every thought abandon your mind. He stopped in his gait when he was just in front of you, but not as close as you thought he'd be.

"Are we going to...get on the ship?" You asked, for the first time unaware of what he was going to do next.

"We will," He finally responded, taking one step closer to you and suddenly making you realize why he'd left the room that was quickly dissipating. He was torturing you, playing with you, and once again uncaged butterflies swarmed your insides, "But first, I want to talk about what you said earlier."

His voice was low and smooth and sure, in direct contrast to your trembling one as you tried to act cool. He was making you squirm and he loved it, "You'll have to be more specific, Mando."

Din took that last step closer to you, nearly closing the gap as he tilted his masked face down at you in a way that had your head spinning, "You know what I'm talking about, mesh'la."

You grappled for a response, you really did, but you didn't know what to say, didn't know how you could possibly respond cooly to that.

"Look at you, finally the speechless one." His voice was taunting and you could hear the smile in it. He grew more serious as he slowly pulled off one of his gloves and achingly slow brought his calloused hand to brush against your cheek. His skin on yours again almost had you buckling to the ground.

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar'ika," Din's words blanketed over you with such a tenderness that your mind raced to understand what they meant. You didn't have to think long, because Din held your chin and brought his beskar-masked forehead to yours, "I love you too, sweetheart."

In all the years of captivity under the Imperial rule on Corrida, you never thought you'd hear those words again, I love you. They were sacred and seldom spoken, and you had stopped hearing them long before your family was taken from you. And now here you were, pressed close to Din Djarin, a Mandalorian whose ship you stowed away on in pure coincidence, and you were hearing those words be said to you in a way that no one had before.

His voice was quiet and playful as he leaned closer to your ear, "And I've got plenty of ways to show it once you get your ass on the damn ship."

Din stepped back from you and turned, walking to the Crest as if he hadn't just promised you everything you've been dreaming of for months. With your pulse thrumming wildly, you followed after him.

"What about the lightsaber? We need to return it to the New Republic," You called out.

The hatch opened to the crest and he walked in without looking back, "They can wait. I can't."

Your cheeks were warm with a blush as you followed him into the Crest, and you couldn't help but wonder how you'd gotten this lucky, what you had done to deserve this. You didn't know, but all you knew was that you'd waited for long, torturous years to have the freedom of forever, and here it was. Here he was. Din Djarin was your forever, no matter how long the breath was left in your lungs.

Your past had finally died, and the ghosts had stopped haunting you. Your present was now your future, and you'd never look back again.

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 21 - The Way to Get Over Someone, Part 2)

11.3K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: Despite Din's attempts to be evasive, you learn the truth about your break-up, and make some decisions about what you are and are not willing to accept going forward.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please). Angst, pining, longing. Nicknames as usual (pretty bird, baby). Some smuttiness but won't spoil.

A/N: Well, we're here: the penultimate chapter (if you don't count the epilogue) - sorry for the word count! 😱 Thank you to everyone who's read up to here - I can't tell you how much it means to me! I know some of you have some strong feelings about Din's actions/dumbdumbness and that's okay!! If you feel like regardless of his intentions, he shouldn't be forgiven/can't be redeemed, I invite you to read up until the paragraph that ends with the blue heart dividers 💙💙💙. I hope that where it ends provides a satisfying conclusion for the series for you and thank you, thank you, thank you again!

All dividers by @saradika-graphics / Series Masterlist

You don’t know how you get through dinner; you must have gone on some kind of small talk auto-pilot because if Mark knew just how much your mind was preoccupied by another man while he was being nothing but genuine and engaging, he probably would have thrown a glass of wine in your face.

Outside of the restaurant, Mark gives you a shy look and asks if you want to get ice cream for second dessert.  Oh man, he really is good guy.

“Oh Mark, I really cannot believe I’m turning down ice cream, but I have something to confess to you,” you look apologetic and hope he’ll let you say what you think he deserves to hear.

“Honestly, Mark – you’re a dream date.  You’re smart and funny and Jen was so right, you’re a fucking catch.  I can’t tell you how guilty I’ve been feeling because I don’t think I’ve been reciprocating the energy and effort that you deserve.  I don’t know if Jen told you, but I got out of a relationship a while ago and I thought I was ready to date again – but being with you tonight… I realize I’m completely out of my element.  I don’t have any business going out with a great guy like you – not right now anyways.  I’m so sorry.”

Mark looks surprised, but his tone is understanding, “Oh!  Wow.  Jen did say something about that – I’m sorry about your last relationship.  It sounds like it really did a number on you.  If it makes you feel better – I had a great time.  I didn’t in anyway feel like I was carrying the date or anything.  And if tonight was you not feeling like you’re up to dating again, then I can’t quite imagine what it would be like to date you when it’s something you’re ready to put your all into.  Thanks for being honest.  When you feel like you’re ready to give dating another shot – think of me?”

It’s a generous and gentlemanly response; you really couldn’t ask for anything more.  The two of you part ways with a light hug outside the restaurant; Mark offers to call you a cab, but you let him know you’ll be fine, and wave appreciatively as he drives away in the car the valet brings him. 

Sighing a heavy sigh, you’re just thinking it might be best if you send Jen a message to let her know how the date went before Mark does when you hear a crash coming from the alleyway next to the restaurant.

Curiosity getting the best of you, you walk over to the side of the building and peek around the corner; there in the alley is the occupier of all your current thoughts, Din, kicking garbage cans in frustration.  When you see him punch the brick wall of the building and shake out his fist, your legs carry you to him as if on instinct – unable to see Din hurt without the urge rising to comfort and soothe him.

Din has both of his palms up against the wall when you close in on him, leaning his weight against his hands with his eyes closed, breathing heavy.

“Din?  Are you okay?” you ask softly, not wanting to startle him.

He looks up, surprised at your appearance – eyes stormy, the rich browns of his irises full of emotion, “I’m okay, pretty bird.”

Pretty bird.  Your heart swells at the familiar term of endearment that you thought you’d never hear again.  It’s like music to your ears.

“This doesn’t look okay,” you gently pull the hand that you saw him shake in pain away from the wall, turning it over and cradling it in your hands - gasping a little when you see his knuckles scraped and bleeding.  Din watches your pretty face cloud with concern as you take a handkerchief from your purse and delicately wrap it around his wounded hand; tying it snugly against his palm before turning his hand over and bringing his knuckles to your lips, pressing a tender kiss against the makeshift bandage.

“Thank you, baby.”

You’re looking at him with such a sweet expression that Din’s heart starts to ache again; he has to remind himself that your concern isn’t really for him particularly – it’s just your kind nature, “Where’s your date?  Did he go and get the car or something?”

You shrug good naturedly, “I sent him home.  Would you mind putting me in a cab, Din?”

“Of course.” As Din walks with you back towards the street, his injured hand rests protectively on your lower back and the gesture causes a chill to run up your spine.

It’s not in uncomfortable silence that the two of you wait on the curb, but Din is afraid that if he doesn’t engage you in some type of conversation, you and this moment will disappear before his mind registers it as being real, “Why did you send your date home?  Did he try something?” His eyes darken.

You shake your head lightly; Din’s protective nature is exactly as you remember - you’ve missed it, “No, nothing like that.  He was fine, really.”  You can’t deny it any longer, you’ve missed him, “He just wasn’t… you.”  With this admission you look up at Din and search his eyes – does he miss you too?

“Oh, pretty bird,” Din manages to breathe out before he descends on your mouth, kissing you fully and so full of longing and desperation he’s afraid he might actually break you.  Your arms fly up of their own accord and wrap around Din’s neck, pulling him closer, closer, closer; your fingers thread and tug at the loose curls at the nape of his neck and you long to run your hands through his hair again - you refrain, not wanting to mess up his hairstyle.  He’s yours and you’re his again in this kiss – every brush of your lips, every step in the dance of your tongues a testament to how much you’ve missed each other.

You’re melting.  Melting into Din’s strong arms and the safety of his hold, reveling in the warmth of his affections.  It’s like you’ve never left, his body molds to yours, fitting so right – pressed flushed against Din, you dare anything to try and get between the two of you right now.

Parting reluctantly when you hear the slow crunch of tires coming to a stop next to you, Din kisses your forehead gently before seeing you into the backseat of the cab.  When you see him open the passenger side door and speak to the driver, you recall with a surge of affection that cab ride after Katie’s birthday when you and Din reconnected after your brief separation.  Once again, Din tells the driver your address and emphasizes the importance of getting you home safely, punctuating his point with an overly generous tip.  Your heart swells at the memory – the déjà vu driving home how everything about your relationship had been real.

When Din comes back to see you in the backseat, your eyes are bright and full of feeling – he’s here, the sweet man who always takes care of everyone, who only every wanted to take care of you; he’s right here in front of you again.  Bringing your hand up to Din’s cheek, your heart soars when he leans into your palm with a smile; the soft feel and weight of his face familiar and comforting.

“Din, I know you didn’t sleep with Vanessa,” you say simply with no room for argument – a simple fact.  Now that you’ve said it out loud, it seems so fucking obvious.  How could you have ever believed that this man could have been capable of such a betrayal?

Simplicity and truth are all that Din can afford as well, “Of course not.  How could I ever want anyone else when I had you?  The perfect woman.  You’re the love of my life, pretty bird.  Would never cheat on you.”

The sincerity of his words brings tears to your eyes, “Then why, Din?  Why would you want me to think that you had?”

You look so confused and sad; for the billionth time, Din chastises his past self for his dumb decisions, “Needed you to hate me, pretty bird.  Needed you to stay away from me.  It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

Though this answer is vague, your response is relayed with certainty; hands cupping Din’s face, “I’m safest with you, Din.”

The kiss that Din presses to your lips at this declaration is achingly desperate, as if he’s trying to brush away all his past mistakes and wipe clean the hurt he’s caused.  He loves you.  You can feel it in every stroke of his tongue over yours, and in the way his teeth nip and nibble at your lower lip.

You’ve missed his mouth, his touch, and everything Din – and judging by the way his hands cradle your face and the deep emotions swirling in the richness of brown eyes, Din’s missed you just as much.  The two of you hold each other, foreheads pressed together for closeness, breathing in the other’s air as you soak in this togetherness that neither of you ever thought you’d experience again.

Finally, remembering what that last cab ride led to, you whisper, “Din, will you come over tonight?”

There’s a pause as Din’s brows furrow and his eyes squeeze shut.  This moment of tenderness with you, one where you don’t hate him, has been more than he deserves.  But it’s a fantasy, a mirage – the reports of escalating violence he listened to during tonight’s meeting still fresh in his mind, Din shakes his head in frustration.  Based on what had been disclosed in the meeting, he can’t help but think that it’s working – everything he’s done to remove the target on your back is working; he can’t throw away your safety just so he can have this feeling again.  That would be too risky.  Selfish.

“Pretty bird, I can’t do that.  I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand, Din,” your voice breaks at his latest rejection and the sound tears Din in two.

He lifts your chin with his fingers so that you’ll look at him though the tears that are already starting to form in your beautiful eyes, “Baby, please understand.  We can’t.  We can’t be together – you deserve better than this, than me.  Being with me puts you in unnecessary danger.  My deepest fear is that you get hurt and I can’t… I won’t let that happen.”

“You’re hurting me right now, Din,” your voice small, sad.

Din knows he is, but he has to stay strong and resolved for your sake, even if this short respite from the dull ache of his everyday existence has been a heaven beyond his imagination, “I’m sorry, pretty bird.  I really am.  I love you, I love you.  But you deserve better.”

You say nothing but the few tears that roll down your cheeks speak volumes.  With great difficulty, Din says a wordless goodbye with kisses to your hair, then both of your hands before letting them and you go.  He knocks on the top of the cab to let the driver know he can leave; as the taxi drives away, he sees your hurt face looking back at him and it nearly brings him to his knees. 

Pressing the heels of his palm to his eyes, Din lets out a loud growl of frustration.  Taking several deep breaths before going back in to rejoin the Family meeting, he repeats to himself a mantra that he has to believe – This is the right thing.  The most important thing is that she’s safe.  Staying away from her keeps her safe.

---

Din’s resolve lasts exactly two days.

---

It takes you only the duration of the cab ride home to get over the sting of Din’s rejection.  Yes, the emotional whiplash of having him tell you that he loves you only for him say that it doesn’t change anything between the two of you hurt, but by the time you’ve taken Al out and finished getting ready for bed, your hurt feelings have been replaced by fresh purpose and determination. 

You finally have some answers.  Somehow Din has convinced himself that being apart from him is for your benefit and he’s willing to sacrifice his own happiness for it.  The problem for you is that he’s also willing to sacrifice yours. 

There’s a part of you that is livid about this, but you’re keeping this particular emotion at bay for the present moment with your newfound conviction to get to the bottom of what’s going on; you’ll get the answers you seek before you decide how you’re going to feel about it all.

You spend most of the weekend turning over the events of the last five months in your head, looking at them with a new perspective after the revelations from the past four days; mentally preparing a list of things that Din owes you explanations for and talking yourself in and out of how you’ll demand them of him. 

By some twist of fate, your regular Sunday brunch has been cancelled for the first time in forever, with several of your friends unable to make it – you can’t decide if this is in your favour or not.

On one hand, you could really use their opinions and a sounding board for your rollercoaster of thoughts and emotions; on the other hand, you suspect that Din is currently not your friends’ favourite person and you could probably do without the barrage of insults that would inevitably be thrown about as a reaction to his and Vanessa’s confessions from this past week.  Not that Din didn’t deserve them, but rather they wouldn’t help you work out what you need to do next.

By Sunday afternoon you’re sure of a few things:

Din loves you.

He has always loved you and he never stopped.

You love him, too.

He truly believed that being with him put you in danger.

What you didn’t know:

How could it be that he loved you so deeply but could so readily leave you?  Not just initially five months ago, but again, not two days earlier?

What gave him the right to decide what was best for you? 

Did he really think it acceptable to keep you in the dark about things that he clearly believed impacted your life so significantly?

The details of what prompted Din to act the way he did don’t interest you as much as why it led him to behave so unsympathetically for the past five months.  The more you think about it, the harder it is for you sit still and wait out the indetermined amount of time needed before you get your answers.

On Sunday night, you make the decision to head down to Mando’s yourself after work one day this week.  Feeling confident in your decided course of action, you’re as satisfied as you can be with the situation when you hear a knock on your door.

---

This is too easy.

Din mutters to himself as he walks through the parking garage beneath your apartment building undetected.  It was entirely too easy for him to gain entry into the garage and avoid the security cameras on his way to the internal stairwell.  He makes a mental note to talk to Paz about this gap in security as he’s taking the stairs two at a time up to your floor. 

He had tried to stay away, he really had.  But just as Din had always known, without the deterrent of you hating him and the surety that you would push him away, he had only his own self control to keep him from seeking you out, and that had crumbled under your loving touch outside the restaurant on Friday.

It had been too long since Din had gone without the feel of your soft lips pressed to his or basked in the warmth of your soft gaze and he had positively melted from both when he saw you after your date.  Like an addict in recovery, the high from his relapse was too intense to ignore; he simply could not be kept from you any longer.

He barely recalls what happened after going back into the restaurant on Friday and finishing the Family meeting.  Or how he got through Saturday at the gym, trying to slog through this month’s invoicing and attempting (unsuccessfully) to concentrate on Jimmy’s training.  Don’t even ask him what he did today.  All he knows is that after nightfall, his body drove his truck over to your neighbourhood and his feet carried him straight to your door.

Unsure of what type of reception he’ll receive if you open the door, Din doesn’t even know what he expects, only what he wants: you.

Your door opens with you already ready for bed, blinking at him with an unreadable expression.  Din thinks he should speak first and lets Al buy him some time when he noses out, nuzzling his snoot into Din’s large hands.  After giving your happy pup a few head rubs to show him how much he’s been missed, Din straightens up to look at you again; he opens his mouth to say something, though he doesn’t know what - and he never finds out because you kiss him.

You hadn’t expected to see Din before your planned confrontation, and you certainly didn’t think you’d see him at your door looking so soft and vulnerable.  After he had dispensed some love to Al, the expression in Din’s eyes when he raised himself back up to his impressive height was that of a much smaller man.  One who was unsure, ashamed.

To see Din like this takes all the wind out of the proverbial sails you had hoisted high over the last two days, the ones you had readied in anticipation of the fight you were bringing to his doorstep this week.  And just like before, when faced with seeing Din in distress, your mind, heart and body ache to soothe and calm him - so you do what comes naturally and press your lips to his.

Din’s lips never leave yours.  Not when you walk him inside your apartment and close the door, and not when he familiarly navigates the layout of your living room to sit on the couch and pull you down onto his lap.  He won’t stop brushing his desperate mouth against your perfectly plush pout, the one he dreams about regularly, even as he murmurs the only two phrases he needs to know you understand:

I’m sorry, baby.

I love you, pretty bird.

You match Din kiss for kiss, “I know.  I know, Din” as you undress first yourself, then the man whose touch you’ve been yearning for for nearly half a year and whose weight you long to be under again.  Your body cries out, remembering the feel of the corded muscles of his strong arms and the comfort of his hard chest; your hands molds to Din’s body as they roam and explore, afraid if you release him he’ll be ripped away from you again.  On Din’s part, even as his mouth becomes more insistent, his touch on your body remains gentle, reverent – where you’re urgent and possessive, he is worshipful.  And still, he recites:

I’m sorry, baby.

I love you, pretty bird.

With Din owning your mouth, your moans of I know, I know, I know are swallowed and vibrate down into his chest - setting his heart on fire and quickening his pulse even as he kisses deeper and steals all your air.

Feeling him lick into your mouth, you whimper ‘Din, please’ and the sound of his name once again on your lips makes Din’s dick jump.  He grabs you tight around the waist, holding you to him to continue fully exploring the open, moaning cavern of your mouth, conveying his devotion with each caress and massage of his tongue.  How could he have ever let you go?  You show Din that you don’t want him to do so ever again by meeting his every touch, every kiss, every guttural needy noise with a hungrier one of your own.

It’s been too long and your hearts and bodies have missed each other too much; Din is already hard and throbbing against where you’re wet and wanting.  Everything is hurried, messy, and inelegant.  You need each other and that’s all there is to it.

Overcome with your own greediness, you murmur, “Need you inside, baby.”

As Din’s entire body melts into a puddle at your words, every muscle in his broad frame relaxes and all his power and control evaporate in the face of his one and only fantasy coming to life; only snapped out of his euphoric state by the sensation of you smearing his leaking precum over his length with your soft hands - Din thinks he might come from this alone.  He’s craved your touch every moment since that fateful night outside his apartment, but he holds back for the heaven he knows is to come when you line him up to your entrance and slowly sink down.

It’s really has been too long – Din’s too big and you’re too tight and there hasn’t been enough prep; it hurts.  But somehow it’s welcomed - both of you needing it to hurt, wanting it to hurt, so you know it’s real.

“Nggghhhh – fuck, Din, so big,” you whine as he stretches you out - he’s bigger than you remember.  He feels better than you remember.

“I know, pretty bird.  But it’ll fit,” Din hums, “because you’re made for me.”

His sweet words belie the sting to your tight channel, but the joy that overflows from your heart straight to you core soon drowns out the pain; this is how it was always meant to be: you trusting your body to Din, and Din taking care of you.  Slowly, slowly, your sheath yourself onto Din’s cock – fitted so close that you feel every thick vein and groove along your warm walls. 

Din’s kisses are gentler now, tender and reassuring like his words, “Doing so good for me, pretty girl,” “You feel so perfect around me,” “Love this tight cunt, missed her so much.”

His praise causes your pussy to gush and your hands card through his soft curls appreciatively.  Gazing into Din’s eyes lovingly, you coo back your own song, “Feels so good, daddy,” “God, I’m so full,” “Noone wrecks this pussy like you, baby.”

When you’re finally fully seated, with Din bottomed out inside you, his balls nestled perfectly under your ass, the two of you simply just rest.  Countless minutes go by so you can relearn to breathe and Din thanks his lucky stars for the privilege of praying at your altar once more.

Fully blissed out and body trembling upon remembering its rightful place on Din’s cock, you whisper, “Din, please move.” And move he does.

Slowly and with the restraint of a saint, Din thrusts up to meet your tentative downward movements, dragging his cock deliciously in and out of your tight cunt, letting her suck him back in of her own volition.  You wrap your arms around his neck and feel Din’s sensual kisses on your lips, down your neck, and at the hollows of your throat; the wet trail his mouth leaves behind causes an electric chill to run throughout your entire body, your hips bucking a little harder, a little more ambitious in response.

There’s no rush, the two of you have all the time in the world to enjoy your reunion, and yet there’s an urgency - a hunger to devour as much of one another as you can, both starved from your time apart.  The need to make up for lost time takes over; every kiss of skin on skin is an apology and a promise, your declarations of love becoming louder and more unabashed, movements more fervent, frantic.

Din groans into your skin, “Pretty bird, not going to last.  Missed you too much,” as he starts to punch up with an impressive force, driving his cock deeper into your cunt and reaching that spot that only he’s ever been able to find.

“Give it to me, daddy,” you mewl, barrelling towards to your own orgasm faster than you had expected, “Need it.  Need you.  I love you, I love you, I love you.”  This is the first time you’ve said it back tonight, and the only time Din’s heard these sweet words in the musical lilt of your voice in last five mouths – this alone sends him on the fast track to the edge.

He snakes one hand between your bodies to find your already pulsating clit and starts to pen a long overdue love letter with his thumb.  Din’s other arm pulls your body as close to his as possible, so you’re now pressed flushed against his warm chest, moving with him as one.

I’m sorry, baby.  I love you, pretty bird.  I love you.

I love you, Din.  Missed you so much.  I love you.

You come - teary eyes locked onto Din’s as he signs over his fate with an elegant signature on your clit.  Your slippery nub kisses his thumb back just as hard, crying and begging for relief as you clench down from the onslaught of pleasure that only Din can give you.  Din spills deep into you as your pussy chokes him, milking the euphoria of his release for all it’s worth.  He’s in heaven.  You’re his heaven.

Wordlessly, you and Din exchange soft smiles and besotted looks as you clean-up after; a string of never-ending tender kisses lead the two of you back to the couch where you lay down in Din’s arms, sated and pliant, soaking in the strength and sureness with which he holds you, “Din, we need to talk.”

“I know, pretty bird,” he’s ready to tell you everything, lay it all bare for you. 

Propping yourself up on your elbow so you can look Din in the eye, you implore him to be honest with you, “You said you needed me to hate you.  That it was the only way to keep me safe.  What were you talking about?”

Din tells you about the photos that the Family received which had been received as threats and the various confrontations and incidents of harassment in the months following that confirmed them as such.  He tells you how scared he’s been for you, and how guilty and sorry he is that you were ever caught up in his world in this terrifying way.

Forcing himself not to look away from your pretty face when he sees it line with fear, Din tells you that he never wanted you to feel frightened or for your life to be interrupted, “You’re safe, pretty bird, I promise.  You’re well protected - the entire Fett Family is looking out for you.  They love you as much as I do.  The Family would never abandon you.”

“Just you then?” It wasn’t meant as a sarcastic or passive aggressive comment, but you just honestly can’t see what this had to do with why Din left you.  If anything, wouldn’t it have made more sense for him to stay by your side?

Regardless of your meaning, Din looks pained at your question and averts his eyes in shame.

“I understand that you were afraid for me because of the threats, but if the Family was willing to protect me, I still don’t understand why you would need me to hate you to be safe?”

“You should never have been in danger at all, baby.  The reason you’re a target is because of me.  Whoever issued the threats only targeted you because… because, they knew how much you mean to me.  How much I love you.  It wasn’t enough just to protect you from the threat, I didn’t want you to be under threat at all.  That’s the only way to guarantee you would be safe.”

You stroke Din’s face with your hand, and he leans in to your comforting touch and closes his eyes.

“If you hated me, then you would no longer be a worthy target.  The person they really want to hurt is me, and if we weren’t together anymore, they can’t do that through you.”  Din sighs, “But I’m so sorry, pretty bird.  The way I went out about it was all wrong - hurting you like I did is inexcusable and it shattered my heart to do so.  You didn’t deserve to think I cheated on you.”

Your heart softens and you lean in to lay gentle, sympathetic kisses to Din’s soft lips.  Finally, finally you understand.  Though you don’t excuse the hurt he caused, you can understand Din’s fallacious reasoning; in an odd way, it’s a relief to see him so unchanged – his actions ever consistent with his self-sacrificing nature and his conviction to take care of those he loves, to keep them safe.  The only thing is, his was not the only heart he had sacrificed.

“I thought you never loved me,” you say in a small voice, “when I thought you had cheated on me, it made me question our entire relationship.”

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Din’s shame and self-anger triple upon hearing your words.  He had expected you to be angry, to hate him for the lie he had you believe, but he never considered that you would have doubted what he felt for you prior to that horrible night.  Secure in the depth of his own devotion and the truth of just how in love with you he was, Din had thought what was unshakeable to him would be the same for you; but of course, now that you’ve said it, it makes complete sense and he adds this egregious transgression against you to his long list of regrets, “I’m so fucking sorry.  I never thought- oh, fuck.  It never crossed my mind that you might ever doubt how so completely in love with you I’ve always been.  From the moment I met you it was over for me, baby – you became the single most important person in my life.  I live for you, pretty bird.  I’m so sorry I ever made you feel any differently.”

Din looks at you with so much sincerity and desperation, you heart is unable to do anything but believe him.  You know without a shadow of a doubt that Din loves you and moreover, that everything he’s done has been in the name of that love.  And though you trust in his pure intentions, they’re misguided in a way that you have to make him understand.  If the two of you are to have a chance again, you need honesty and openness, and Din has to have faith in that same love when things get tough.

You’re lightly scratching Din’s facial scruff the way you know he loves, wanting to just enjoy this affectionate moment a little longer before you dive into the more serious things you need to talk about when you both hear Din’s phone start to buzz incessantly. 

Din reaches his long arm off the couch and easily finds his discarded pants and pulls out his phone, frowning when he sees the multiple notifications on his lock screen.

His entire body tenses as he reads Paz’s messages.

Hutt movement three blocks away from Lil’ Lady’s.

Woves confirms the group is growing.

Mods say traffic cams show more on the way. 

Din feels a stab of fear tear through his chest before the horror of what he’s done settles like a boulder in his stomach.

For the five months that Din had left you alone, there hadn’t even been a hint of suspicious activity anywhere near you.  No appearance of shady characters or any incidents of malfeasance, not a single one.  You had been safe.

What had changed tonight?  What could have possibly happened to incite a flurry of rival gang activity so close to your home when it had never previously been an issue?

It was him.  What had changed is he had been weak.  He had given in to his need for you, selfishly putting you in harm’s way.  Din realizes he had been right: staying away from you had been keeping you safe.  He gets up suddenly, the need to rectify his mistake overwhelming.

“Din?”

Din’s hurrying putting on his clothes and doesn’t answer you.  He doesn’t hear you get up from the couch after him and grab a house cardigan from the back of one of the dining room chairs to throw over yourself, watching as he carries on to leave without saying a word.

“STOP!!”

You hardly ever yell.  And you never slam your hand down on your dining table so hard and loud it hurts, but you need to get Din’s attention somehow.  It works - Din’s shocked out of his automated movements and turns to face you.

“What are you doing, Din?” you look distressed, confused, but most of all, frightened by what you think you already know is happening.

“This was a mistake, pretty bird.”

His words cause you to recoil; your voice comes out tight, bordering on bitter, “What was a mistake, Din?  Telling me you loved me, that you lived for me?  Or sleeping with me?  Tell me, which mistake do you mean?” 

Din rushes forward; he’s fucking up all over, he can tell, and hurting you again is the very last thing he ever wanted to do, “No, baby – none of that was a mistake.  Being with you tonight has been a happiness I never thought I’d feel again.  Honestly, I didn’t think I deserved it and still don’t think I do.  The mistake was me somehow thinking that everything was behind us.  That I wouldn’t be putting your safety at risk by coming over here.”

He can’t possibly be doing this again, you’re incredulous, “You’re doing this again?  You’re going to leave?  And I don’t get a say in it?”

“Pretty bird, you don’t understand.”

“Make me understand, Din.”

“There’s something happening right now, a danger that’s closer to you than should ever be allowed.  And it’s because I’m here.  This is proof that I’m no good for you baby.”

“Din, how can you say that?  I love you.”

“And I have to keep you safe because I love you, too.”

“What you’re doing is breaking my heart, Din. This isn’t the only way - you have to trust me.”

“This isn’t about trust, pretty bird, it’s about your safety.”

“Of course it’s about trust, Din!  You don’t trust me to be able to handle some of the things in your life – things that you think I’m too delicate or ‘good’ for, whatever the fuck that means.  You don’t trust me so you don’t tell me anything or let me make any decisions, and that’s really fucking condescending and hurtful.  You have to trust me, Din!  You have to trust that you can show me parts of yourself and your world that maybe aren’t perfect or you aren’t that proud of and that I’m not going to leave!  You have to trust that I love you enough!”

The silence between the two of you is punctuated only by your shallow breathing from finishing your speech and the electric tension that now hums in the air.  Something in Din’s brain is awakening, yelling at him that there’s a truth in your words that he hasn’t had the courage to face – that other than your safety, he’s been worried that bringing you fully into his world and telling you everything, sharing in all the fears and dark parts, would scare you away.  That he’s been afraid that you would walk away, so he did it first.

Din doesn’t know if he’s ready to face this realization or its implications out loud, not when you’re looking at him with so much disappointment and anger.  Not when the phone in his pocket continues to buzz non-stop.

You’re at your wit’s end and throw out ludicrously, “So, what?  We stay apart until you deem it safe again?  Then what, we’re allowed to date until the next time you think it’s safer for me if you leave?  And then we just repeat this pattern forever?”

Din’s exasperated too, frustrated with the unexpected turn this evening has taken – at himself.  He throws his hands up in the air, “I don’t know, okay?  I just know it’s not safe for you to be my girl right now.  And as for later?  May not then either?  Maybe you just don’t wait for me.”

You freeze, the retort on the tip of your tongue that you’re supposed to be a team and that Din doesn’t get to choose for the both of you, dissipates from your shock at his last words, “Wait. What do you mean ‘don’t wait for you’?”

Din doesn’t immediately clarify so you press on, “You would be okay with that?  If I moved on with someone else? Is that what you want?”

Din wants to reassure you; it’s not what he meant, of course.  His heart would shatter if you were with someone else; he had only meant that he knew it was terribly unfair for you to have to wait for this situation to resolve itself, and he didn’t want to force you to be or assume that you were okay with it – but it had come out wrong.  He stops himself from explaining though; realizing with a punch to the gut that he could use this to give you a clean slate, a clean break from him.  You would hate him again – but it would remove the temptation to come see you in secret like tonight, endangering your safety every time he was too weak to stay away from you.  So, he says nothing.

You take his silence the way he intends, as confirmation that Din doesn’t want you anymore and your tears come fast and threaten to overflow.   You’re angry, confused, and hurt.  Again. 

The barrier you had put up earlier when you so logically decided to figure out your feelings once you figured out the truth comes crashing down and you think you’re going to drown in the tidal wave of emotions that swell and rise with being so casually tossed away again.  You feel like a fool, letting Din toy with your feelings (and your body) over and over.

“Din.  Is that what you want?  Do you just want us to be over?” you choke out.

Din’s expression is unreadable and he won’t make eye contact with you - but when he sighs, it’s the most devasting sound you’ve ever heard in your life. 

Your cheeks are wet and you feel yourself shaking.  The words that are blabbering out now hardly make sense and you don’t think you even mean half of them, but you aren’t thinking straight - you just know these words will sting and make Din feel as bad as you do right now, “Why did you come tonight, Din? For an easy fuck?  You knew you would find guaranteed pussy here, didn’t you?  I can’t blame you, I guess. I mean, if you know you always have a desperate slut you can use, someone who’s stupid enough to buy whatever lies you tell her to get her to give it up, why not, right?”

Suddenly aware of how exposed you are, you pull your cardigan tighter over your body and shrink away from Din.

Din reaches for you - this, he cannot have.  He cannot have you reducing yourself to just a worthless fuck when you’re his sun.  He loves you more than anything, would hang the moon for you; you’re the most incredible and precious thing in his life, “No, no… that’s not it.  Please, pretty bird, don’t…”

You pull away from his outreaching hand and say in a flat, dead tone, “I’m not your pretty bird anymore.” 

Even Din can see that he’s hit your limit - hurt you beyond repair and now you’ve shut down.  Shut him out.  Fighting ever fibre in his body to go to you, soothe you and try to  reassure you of his love, he hangs his head, “No. You’re right… you’re not.”

The two of you stand in silence, facing each other but worlds apart, for what is probably only a minute but feels like forever.  Finally, Din turns to the front door to leave; pausing just after turning the handle, he whispers, “I’m sorry”, before exiting your apartment and closing the door behind him.

Once in the hallway, Din hears the lock turn immediately, followed by the most devastating sound he’s ever heard.  You’re sobbing, loud enough that he can hear it through the door and he wants more than anything to kick down the door and sweep you into his arms, take it all back - comfort you with kisses and lightly chastise you for even considering for a moment that he could ever stop loving you. 

But he doesn’t.  It’s better this way, Din tells himself. 

The sound of your sobs follows Din as he races down the stairs, towards the danger that lurks too closer for comfort.  He’s more than ready to take out his distress on the bastards who had deigned to look upon you as someone to threaten, to hurt - or just some unfortunate Hutts who found themselves in the wrong neighbourhood tonight.  Din doesn’t much care.  Blinking back his tears and steeling his resolve with clenched fists, all Din knows is you won’t be the only person he hurts tonight – you’re just the only one who doesn’t deserve it.

Exactly one week later, you storm into brunch still angry, exhausted and hurt from your altercation with Din the Sunday before; hot tears brim along your lash line from the humiliation of having slept with Din only for him to leave you again, and your frustration at his dismissal of any attempt to talk out your issues.  The only sure-fire thing you’ve decided is that there will be no more secrets - no more half truths, no more protecting people from hard and ugly realities.  Sure, you would have much preferred if this was the road upon which you and Din were embarking, but in lieu of that, you decide that you can come clean with your friends.  You tell them about the Fett Family and Din’s old role, and what he seems to still do for the Family.  You tell your friends about Poe, Boba, Cass, the Hutts and the Pykes, and the Mandos and the Mods.  You tell them about all the security incidents from earlier in the year and the threats you only just learned of and about Din’s and your place in it all.  You tell them about your run-in with Vanessa and how your date with Mark went and about sleeping with Din last week.  You tell them everything that’s yours to tell and even somethings that aren’t because you’re done with pretending that these secrets are worth keeping and somehow worth your happiness.

Your friends are speechless; all the food, and shockingly the drinks, are untouched as you talk and only after you indicate you’re done with your recollection of how Din left you crying in your foyer, do they descend on you to offer their kind supportive words and loving hugs.  Once everyone is settled back in their seats and people’s emotions have leveled out a bit, Rory asks,

“Do you still love him?”

It’s not the question you expected from her, or from any of your friends really, and it truly deflates you as you lean back in your chair to contemplate your response.  The last week saw you primarily cataloguing Din’s transgressions against your heart; it’s a long list and it had kept your mind and heart fairly preoccupied.  You’re furious at him… but did his foolhardy actions change the man you believed he was?  The man you had loved?  You answer only what you’re sure of,

“It doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t seem to matter to him what I think or feel.  Din just does what he thinks is best.”

Your friends nod sympathetically, understanding you’re already fighting a seemingly endless battle between your head and your heart.  They thoughtfully put forth their opinions in between bites of their now cold dishes:

“No matter what his reasoning is, it doesn’t give him the right to jerk you around in the name of ‘your safety’.”

“Does he have a point though?  Is it dangerous to be with him? Are you scared?”

“Won’t the Family protect you?  Why is he acting like he’s the only one who cares about you?”

“I don’t like that he hurt you on purpose with that Vanessa nonsense.  That lie was so elaborate.”

“How many times does he think he can do this to you?”

“You deserve someone who is honest with you.  Someone who will treat you like an equal partner in everything.”

“He loves you so much.  It’s always been clear to us that you’re his whole world, babe.”

You agree with it all – these same thoughts have been running laps in your mind since the night Din closed your door behind him.  Din’s martyr-like approach to your safety did not sit well with you, especially when it sacrificed the wellbeing of your heart without so much as a consultation of your feelings; it’s crystal clear to you now that entirely too many lies and secrets had been justified and tolerated in the last several months and even your relationship prior.  Yes, you know how you feel about what Din did.

But how do you feel about him?  To a certain degree, you know you still love Din, but things just aren’t that simple anymore.  Given everything that’s happened, how can you feel about him?  You don’t know.

6 months ATN

Waiting until there’s a break in the traffic, you cross the street quickly, heading straight for the bookstore across from your office building.  Right away, you spot the display you’re looking for: the centre table for “Current Hot Reads” with Bea’s book right in the middle - you can’t help but grin widely.  Picking up four copies, you busy yourself for a few minutes straightening up the display - strategically stacking and propping up copies of your friend’s book so it stands out in a pleasing manner amongst the other titles.  When you stand back, satisfied, to review your work, a kind voice behind you says, “Are you the author, dear?” You turn to see an older woman in a delightfully ostentatious fur coat smiling at you.

Unable to keep the pride out of your voice, you beam, “Ha ha ha!  No, one of my best friends is!  I’m actually buying these as gifts to give out to our mutual girlfriends at dinner tonight!”

“Oh, that’s so lovely dear!  What a good friend you are!” the lady smiles, “What is the book about?”

“It’s a modern romance, childhood best friends turned lovers.  The first in her series!” you gush, ready to talk Bea up to the high heavens.

“Oh lovely!  My granddaughter loves romance novels, maybe I should get it for her?”

For a moment you simply imagine what the granddaughter might think when reading the smut her sweet nana bought her and you do your best to hold in your chuckle, “Tell you what.  I’m going to buy an extra copy and leave it at the cashier for you.  If you decide you don’t want it or prefer to buy a copy, just tell the cashier to pass it on to the next person who’s interested.”

“Oh dear, you don’t have to do that!”

“I know!  But I want to!  I can’t tell you how much it delights me to support my friend.  Please ask your granddaughter to help spread the word about the book and the author.  I know she’ll love it, it really is just that good,” you enthuse.

The older woman squeezes your hand in thanks as you pick up a fifth copy of Bea’s book; leaving her to read the jacket summary as you head to the cashier.  After giving the cashier the instructions for the last copy, you give the display another quick once over before leaving the bookstore, heading directly to dinner with a spring in your step.

---

Din sees you the moment you walk in.  For some reason, maybe a sixth sense, he had looked up at the bookstore front door before it opened, and there you were.  He hasn’t seen you since the night he left you crying in your apartment, the same night he sent half of the Hutt enforcements to the hospital; when he accepted this surveillance post for the day, he had half hoped he would see you.  You’re just as stunning and bright as the you he keeps in his memories, if not more so.

He had also seen the display of Bea’s books when he walked in and already picked up a copy to buy in support; he figured he would give it to Lisa.  Din watches you rearrange the display from behind the shelves, trying not to be a creep but unable to take his eyes off of you – wistfully, he recalls seeing you do the same thing on the day you first met; it’s no less charming now than it was then.  Listening with a smile as you talk excitedly to the older lady about Bea’s book, Din’s heart swells when he hears you offer to buy her granddaughter a copy.  You’re still you.  Sweet, generous, unassuming, and unflinchingly kind.

God, he misses you.

He’s been trying to put you out of his mind, of course; positive that he’s eradicated not only any goodwill or affectionate feeling you may have held for him a few months ago, but also any chance he had of ever being with you again.  Whereas before he kept away for your safety and his own self punishment, he does so now out of self preservation.  To steel himself for his future without you.

Din does, however, allow himself one photo of you.  It’s one that Paz took the night of the fight with Rotta Hutt.  Taken right after he’s scooped you up ringside, the shot shows only the back of Din’s head, but your face is on full display, filled with joy and adoration.  He looks at it everyday; trying not to long for you more than he already does, Din comes to regard it as motivation of sorts – this is what makes all his misery worth it, he thinks to himself.  You.  Happy.

And while he can’t bring himself to delete his photos of you off his phone, or even erase your old messages, Din never looks at them either.  He doesn’t deserve to.  Especially not the dirty texts and photos; he doesn’t have a right to see you that way anymore - as much as he misses you, Din won’t violate your privacy.  But on the days when the pressure, stress and Din’s own loneliness lead him to release his frustration while in the shower, he imagines a soft hand touching him and knows it’s yours.  The voice that he hears telling him how good it feels, he knows is yours.  The moans that ring in his ears as he furiously fucks his fist can only be yours.  And when he comes, choking out broken pants of I love you, I love you, I fucking loving you so much, those words are for you and you only.

Seven months ATN

Opening your guest room closet, you sigh to yourself. 

It’s time. 

You’ve been avoiding doing this, but not only is it long overdue, you’re also embarrassed at how anxious you’ve been to attempt this task.  It’s been two months since Din left you crying on your knees in the front foyer of your apartment and seven since you fled his apartment after believing he had cheated on you.  In that hazy first week, you had gone around the apartment grabbing anything that belonged to him and stuffed it into what ended up being an overflowing bin that you then shoved into the back of the guest room closet.  Out of sight, out of mind.

But you have guests coming to stay next week, and moreover, it bothers you how rude it is to have kept these belongings that aren’t yours.  It was one thing when Din had been a lying cheating bastard; but now that you know he hadn’t had any ill intent and was as much of a victim of his poor decisions as you are, it doesn’t feel right to hang on to these items.  Bringing home some flat packing boxes from the work mailroom, you assemble them first, trying to prolong actually having to go through your ex’s things.

Stop being a chicken shit, you chide yourself, it’s been months.  Get over it and get it over with. You pull the bin out of the closet and his smell, Din’s smell, immediately hits you when you when you start to take out the clothes.  You close your eyes and let yourself breathe in the familiar scent.  It’s as inviting as you remember and immediately brings his handsome visage to your mind.  When you open your eyes, they’re filled with tears.  Dammit.

You force yourself to work through your tears.  Fighting it at first but eventually allowing yourself to recall memories associated with Din’s items, you feel and expunge all the emotions you had hidden away like you had these belongings.  It’s cathartic and freeing, and once you’ve shed the tears you need, you make quick work of the task.  When you’ve filled the last box, you write a short note apologizing how long it’s taken to return these items and quickly tape up the boxes so that the contents are once again out of your sight.

---

The following weekend, you and Katie take a cab with the boxes to Din’s neighbourhood.  You don’t think you’re ready to see Din in person, but you think you can handle dropping off the boxes… at Peli’s.  Katie helps you carry the boxes from the taxi into the drycleaner’s and you ring the little bell Peli leaves out when she’s in the back working with the machines.  You see her bushy crown of curls before you do her inviting face, the smile she smiles when she sees you is brighter than the sun.  You feel warmed just seeing her again.

“Well, look who it is,” Peli grins, eyes full of genuine cheer and relief, “long time no see.”

Nodding, your heart feels a tug with how much you’ve missed Peli and all the other friends you made through Din who you haven’t seen in months, “Too long, Peli!”

“Glad you can admit you missed me,” she teases, holding absolutely nothing against you, “what can I do for you?  Don’t tell me those boxes are full of drycleaning?”

“Oh… no.  Could I ask you for a favour?” sheepish that the very first time you see Peli after such a long absence, you’re asking something her.

Peli’s good nature isn’t phased for even a second, “Of course!  Anything for you, love.”

Then as if some higher being heard your request before you had a chance to speak it, Paz walks through the front door of the drycleaners.  He’s just as surprised to see you as you are him, but readily leans in to give you and Katie welcoming hugs.

“Hi Lil’ Lady.  Whatcha doing here?”

You gesture to the boxes and look between Peli and Paz, “Just wanted to drop off Din’s things but…  I didn’t feel up to going to Mando’s.  Do you think I could trouble you to get these boxes to him?”

Peli looks shocked, and for a moment you wonder if it’s possible that she didn’t know that you and Din haven’t been together for over half a year now.  Paz saves you from the potentially long and awkward explanation by nodding with some sympathy, “No problem, I’ll carry them over.”

“Thank you, Paz.”

“No problem, Lil’ Lady,” Paz gives you a smile that looks regretful, maybe even sad.

You turn to go, but suddenly feel compelled to make one last request, “Please don’t tell Din you saw me?  I don’t want him thinking about me anymore.”  You say this without any malice or bitterness, though you’re not convinced it comes out that way.

When going through Din’s belongings, you were initially hard hit by the waves of sadness and grief from the loss of your relationship; but after letting the ache of your heart dull, you had surprising found comfort in a barrage of happy memories:

Din’s favourite basketball team shirt you slept in.  You had teased him mercilessly for how often he wore it, but showered him in compliments at how good he looked in those loud team colours every time.  When you explained to him what Pima cotton was and delighted in a sports shirt feeling so luxuriously soft, you noticed that Din started leaving it for you to wear for sleep – first only at his apartment, but before long, he “allowed” the shirt to migrate to your place.

That lime green sweater he wore the first time he was invited to girl’s Sunday brunch.  Bea had wanted to introduce the new guy she was dating and thought that having another boy at the table might make it less intimidating.  Din had gone and immediately clocked Gideon to be an asshole, but somehow managed to convey a polite, yet protective vibe throughout the meal.  When Bea broke up with that odious man a few weeks later, Din, invited back to brunch and coincidentally wearing the same sweater had been so supportive (“You deserve better than that self-absorbed blow hard”), even offering to “take care of him” for her.  You had quickly refused on Bea’s behalf, knowing what “take care” might actually mean, but it had cheered her up so much nonetheless.

His cozy oversized patterned jacquard cardigan that Din wore whenever it was nippier out than usual.  Large enough that it could envelope you while being worn, Din took every opportunity to do so - pressing you against his hard chest while wrapping the front around you to keep the chill away when you were out at the farmers’ market, waiting for the subway, or just standing on the sidewalk while Al finished sniffing his favourite spots.

And more – all the clothes and items you packed away had at least one memory associated with Din where he had made you feel warm, cared for, cherished.

How grateful and lucky you were that Din had loved you the way he did.

Yes, he had broken your heart, but you know that he himself didn’t get away unscathed – Din had also been destroyed by your breakup.  Having long since recognized the immature and empty things said during your last fight as your own emotional lashing out, you saw with more clarity how your own hurt and pain had sliced through Din’s already battle damage armour.  To be honest, you regret your words and how you left things with Din; though the way he did it was all wrong, Din had only ever loved you, cared for you and put you first in the way that he believed matter the most.  And he did so without fanfare, pomp or circumstance - expecting neither accolades nor acknowledgment, or even a hint of self satisfaction.

Your heart truly goes out to Din.  He so willingly carries the weight of the responsibility to take care of others, to put their well being over his own wants and desires; he sees it only as his duty and a mark of his honour to put himself last.  Din never gives himself leave to be selfish, despite being the most deserving for exactly that reason; as long as others are well taken care of, you know that Din would never complain or wish for more for himself.  And while your heart has done its share of mourning for yourself, it also breaks for Din – you know with certainty that he’s as devastated as you are, and yet, he also bears the guilt of having been the cause of your respective heartbreak; likely believing himself undeserving of any sympathy or comfort.

You remember what Boba had once said of Din, that he’s a caretaker through and through.  He attends to the needs of those around him and always has – thinking of the betterment of others, sometimes, and possibly even often, at the expense of his own.  But Din’s always done so happily - it was his duty and he performed it consistently, admirably.  And you remember that you had promised Boba that you would take care of Din right back.

Refusing to add to Din’s already heavy burden when it came to your breakup, you don’t want him to think about you more than he has to when he gets his belongings back; you know he will only spiral into more self blame wondering if you’re still mad or how much you hate him.  He will undoubtedly think about how you might be hurting, and then feel regret and guilt, disappointment or whatever else that eats at him.

So, you make Paz promise not to tell Din that he saw you, to say that Peli had called him over to get the boxes and you were already gone when he arrived.  The fierce look in your eyes tells Paz that you won’t relent and he acquiesces – you were prepared to fight him if necessary, the urge to protect Din where you still can burning brightly within your heart.

Quiet and heartfelt goodbyes are said and longer than needed hugs are dispensed before you and Katie leave Peli’s, arms now empty.  As the cab pulls away, you wave what you sadly think might be your last goodbye to two people you’ve also come to love and will miss terribly.

9 months ATN

Seeing Peli and Paz at the drycleaner’s is the last contact you have with Din’s world.

After nearly the better part of a year, it no longer feels strange that there are facets of a life you had come to embrace, that are no longer familiar - like bringing baked goods down to Mando’s, or being part of the celebratory group when a Mando’s boxer wins a title.  Making a normal portion size of garlic knots is once again the norm.

Periodically, it might feel unsettling when you remember that you are or were, at least at one time, under threat, and that there are unseen eyes on you, both friendly and unfriendly.  But you never see anyone or any actual evidence of this so there’s not much you can dwell on.  Who’s to say the circumstances of the situation haven’t changed or if you’re even on anyone’s radar anymore?  It’s likely you’ve been forgotten by now and you leave these thoughts at that.

With time, you go from thinking of Din constantly, to less frequently, and now only periodically.  You don’t think you’ll ever quite forget Din.  He had loved you fiercely, of that you were certain, and in turn, you had loved him back just as hard.  He was undoubtedly, a great love of your life.  You don’t think that type of connection is easy to find, nor would you attempt to try and do so again – the way Din had seen you so completely and how you had felt being his was not a feeling you think you’ll let go of any time soon. 

But the price for that type of love was one that you hadn’t been prepared to pay – adherence to some creed or code of honour that was willing to sacrifice your heart wasn’t something you could open yourself up to again.  Not even for that kind of love.  But it didn’t mean you couldn’t look back on it with fondness and remember Din as a man you admired adamantly and would continue to hold up as one of the best men you’ve ever known.

He was kind.  Protective.  Caring and loyal. 

The strength of his character and his generous nature live on in your grateful heart.

Some of your happiest memories will always be ones that you shared with Din.  He had, as was his highest priority, made you feel safe and cherished; despite how it all ended, you knew his motivations and the intentions of his heart to be pure - he had only ever wanted the best for you.  Din’s easy way of making you laugh, supporting you in all your endeavors and of lightening your mental and physical load, all while making you feel like the most special person in any room, were not easily forgotten.  Nor his integrity, considerate nature and the gentleness of his touch.  A lover and a fighter – Din was a rare combo indeed.

You think you’ll love Din until your dying day, but you can’t pine for him anymore.

Had you forgiven him?  Hardly.  But forgiveness wasn’t necessary. 

Forgiveness implied that you needed something to change, to be acknowledged, in order to move forward, and that just simply wasn’t the case.  You neither forgave him or were looking to forgive Din; you didn’t expect there to be a continuation of your story and so, as far as you were concerned, neither of you owed anything further to the other, including forgiveness.  You’re at peace with where the pages of your love story have permanently fallen open; having reread those finally passages a million times, you’ve worked through your grief of having to put Din and your relationship behind you - what remains is only a nostalgic sort of affection and maybe wistfulness.

Your life has gone on without him, but it had always been full before you met Din and it remains so after him: full of friends, hobbies, Alfredo, accomplishment and pride in your work, and everything else your undoubtedly privileged life has to offer.  That’s probably the best word to describe it.  These days, when you do think of Din, it can be without bitterness or disappointment, because you do so only with genuine gratitude; not everyone will have the good fortune of being loved so wholly, so generously and so fearsomely, albeit it had only been for a little while.  Yes, it takes no great effort to admit: it had been a privilege to be loved by Din Djarin.

It’s been a good day.  Great even.  All your meetings finish on time (!), and no one on your team, yourself included, had extra work assigned at the last minute – you’re all able to leave ON TIME.

Stepping out of your office building, you can’t quite believe it – you haven’t seen this side of 5:30 since… you were a junior?  No, that’s an exaggeration, but it’s been a long time for sure.

You and your colleagues exchange excited hugs, marveling at your luck; a few even joke that you should all prepare to pay for this tomorrow before laughing and each going in your separate directions.

Pausing for a moment where you stand, you contemplate maybe popping into the bookstore across the street before heading home when your eyes are drawn to a hulking figure that sits on one of the courtyard benches directly facing your office.  Despite his size and striking profile, the man’s presence isn’t terribly imposing, but it is a wonder that you hadn’t notice him until now.

You lock eyes with the man, not ready to believe he’s really there, when he gives you a tentative smile along with a small wave of the bouquet of peonies that he holds in his hand.

Din.

Thanks so much again to anyone who has read this far in the series with me - I love you all so much! Your kind words and encouragement really motivated me to finish this chapter a bit earlier than I had anticipated! I'm still on the cruise, so I'm just posting this when the ship's wifi is strong 🤣 so adding a few tags for those who have expressed an interest in the story (if you don't want to be tagged, please tell me!):

@tuquoquebrute @furiousmushroom @cheekychaos28 @72scsuze @nerdieforpedro

@toobsessedsstuff @whirlwindrider29 @inept-the-magnificent @mellymbee @that1nerd-20

@hipabbster23 @bitccchmood @bigbutchenergee @rainbowcat164 @the-strawberrythief

@johnssherlock221 @misstokyo7love @vivian-pascal @florxdexcerezo @fanficlover1414

@rarachelchel @heartbrokenlilbitch-nef @jeewrites @sunnytuliptime @kulekehe

@bebsjo @yopossum @cartonkid1200 @rav3n-pascal22

[dinogoofymutated]

Hey!!! Thank you again for Remy's one shot, it was amazing!!

I saw that you would like ideas for Cable and Warren, and I may have a few...

Especially for Warren....

I'd love to see Warren and mutant! Reader that "hate" each other, and reader thinks she has no chance with him, so she goes on a date. Warren is jealous and watches over her, and swoops in once the date goes sideways.

Words are said, feeling we shown, and Warren giver the fairytale kiss. (Could end with them going at it on a rooftop...)

Could be sfw or nsfw, either way I'll enjoy it immensely!!! I can't wait to see more of your work ❤️

Sfw! Warren/Fem!reader

OMGGGG UGG I LOVE THIS SM!!! I have a slight obsession with prompts like this- soooo yeah lololol. Oh! Also, I feel like I should mention this is more based off of comic and show warren, and not the version of him from the apocalypse movie. Hope this isnt too OOC!

Tws: Bad date, Warren is kind of an asshole but we love him. Kissing in the rain.

Warren Worthington is a dick. He's always teasing you, snatching your books, and pencils, and really everything you meed and holding it out of reach. He'll thwak you with a wing on purpose, always saying some stupid excuse like "Oh I didn't see you there." When you know damn well he did.

And he's not even like this to anyone else! It's incredibly frustrating, especially with how often he'll just up and completely ignore you to go flirt with Jean- who's still with Scott, might I add! Ugh!

It shouldn't matter to you whether or not he flirts with other people- the guy was clearly uninterested in you. But you just... can't help it. You really liked Warren, more so before this whole event started, when you didn't know him that well but couldn't help but blush at some of the things he did. You knew he could be kind, and he had a sweet side to him despite the cocky persona he's always pushing. (Because is it really a persona at that point?) But he just seemed so out of your league. Around the time you started pulling away from him was when the teasing started up, and to be honest, it had just confirmed your thoughts that Warren didn't like you.

Whatever, though. You'd get over it. You wanted to get over it. And the opportunity was presented to you to do just that. You had been out shopping one day with Jean when a man had approached you- not Jean, but you. It was really surprising, as most men would completely skip over you to talk to your beautiful best friend. You didn't hold any resentment towards her, it's not like she can help it. But when a rather attractive man approaches you, asking you on a date? You couldn't help but be flattered.

    You were excited! Really, really excited for this date. You had put on a cute outfit, even throwing on a little makeup, dresses to impress you know? Plus, your date was really attractive, and for some reason, you felt like you needed to spruce yourself up a little bit to impress him. It had taken you forever to be happy with your look, with Jean reassuring you over and over that you looked perfect and that everything would be fine!

    Eventually, his car pulled up in front of the mansion to pick you up for your date. You only had to glance at the window before you were running down the stairs excitedly. Of course, leaving couldn’t be all that easy, could it?

    “What are you all dressed up for?” You hold in your groan at the sound of Warren’s voice. He’s leaning against the foyer wall, cocking an eyebrow at you with a smirk that makes your heart do something funny. Didn’t change the fact that you kinda wanted to punch him. 

    “If you have to know, I’m going on a date.” You say, rolling your eyes. His smirk drops immediately, but you don't really notice as you put your shoes on. 

    “A date? With who?” Warren Pushes himself off the wall to approach you, grabbing hold of your arm to keep you from running off just yet. You make a face at him, confused and a little annoyed at his attention. 

    “A guy. He asked me out while Jean and I were at the mall, not that you really need to know.” You snark. Warren scoffs at that, looking a little frustrated. He begins to talk again, but he’s cut off by the sound of a horn honking from outside. Your face falls, and your stomach drops at the sound. Your date must be impatient. You don’t like the implications of that. Warren looks angry, letting go of you as he takes a step back.

    “You’re really going to leave with a guy who doesn’t bother to ring the doorbell?” He asks. You can’t find any words to say, feeling a little hurt. You turn away from him, quickly opening the door to leave. Warren can see your face light up a little as you wave at your date, closing the door behind you. Warren’s wings sag a little, left in the foyer looking like a lost puppy without you. 

    “You know, if you were nicer to her you probably would’ve had a chance.” Warren sighs dramatically at the sound of Bobby’s voice, turning to see that he had been watching the whole time, eagerly munching on a bowl of cereal.

    “Can it, dude”

    The fact that you're going on a date doesn't sit well with Warren. There's a pit in his stomach that he can't seem to shake, and when he tried to talk about it, Bobby and Scott just waved him off, telling him he was just jealous- and well, he was. But that wasn't the point! He didn't like that you were going on a date with someone random, or anyone besides him, really. He just had a bad feeling about it all.

    He knows he doesn't really have the right to be as jealous as he was. The two of you weren't together- but at some point, he thought you would be. He liked you. More than friends should. He had for a while, but you started to pull away from him- so he started to do anything he could to get your attention. Sure, he wasn't exactly being nice, but he wasn't being mean. He wasn't trying to bully you or put you down, he was just… teasing. 

     Warren had been couped up in the library as the evening went on, staring out the window with a sigh as it had started to pour. He had been thinking a lot about what Bobby had said earlier, dwelling over it constantly. Normally when he was so caught up in thoughts like this he would fly around the mansion to clear his head, but with the storm outside that definitely wasn't going to happen. He sighs, resting his head against the window while his eyes begin to drift close, but a movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention.  He sits up a little bit, squinting at first to see whatever it is through the rain. When he finally realizes, it is like he was hit over the head with disbelief. 

...

     The rain was cold. You were shivering as you walked along the asphalt driveway up to the mansion doors, sniffling the whole time. You knew you looked like a mess, mascara running down your cheeks in inky black streams, soaked to the bone without a jacket to keep you warm. The date was a bust. You should have known better. Been smarter. Hell, you should have asked someone else to drive you so that you wouldn’t be stuck in this situation in the first place. Or at least brought your wallet so that you could’ve used the payphone to call someone to come get you. But here you are. You were sad, wet, and despairing over the long walk up the driveway, but at least you were back at the mansion. 

    It’s hard for you to see through the heavy rain, so you keep your head down towards the ground to keep the rain out of your eyes. You don’t even realize that someone had run out to get you until you hear footsteps splash through the puddled driveway. You try your best to wipe the tears from your eyes, praying that they won’t be able to tell with the rain, but it is hard to hide the puffy red face the tears left behind. 

    You don’t really want look look up when you feel the rain stop, already knowing who it is by the sound of his gait. Warren holds the umbrella out to you, and you take it. He has his trench coat over his arm, and he uses the extra hand to wrap it around your shoulders. It’s awfully big on you, but it’s warm and dry, and you're thankful. You wipe at your eyes again when Warren takes the umbrella back, trying hard not to start crying.

    “What happened?” Warren asks. You finally look at him, and the concerned look on his face just makes you feel worse. Your face scrunches as you tear up again, and you look up at the umbrella as you try to avoid the embarrassment. You don’t really know what to say. You don’t really want to say anything right now. But you do.

    “He didn’t know I was a mutant.” You say, voice shaking a little. Although, you can’t help but let out a pitiful laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. “He thought that the school was just some place for rich kids. I mentioned it offhand because I assumed he knew- and he didn’t. He wouldn’t drive me home so…” You make a vague motion at your soaking clothes. Warren looks angry. Angrier than you’ve ever seen him before. He opens his mouth to say something and decides better of it. Instead, He wraps an arm around you and begins to guide you back to the mansion. You blush a little at the action, but realize he probably just has to stay close to keep the both of you under the umbrella- not that his wings even fit, by the way.

    “You’re gonna be soaked.” You say, pointing towards his wings. Warren glances back, flexing the limbs just slightly, and shrugs. 

    “I’ll get over it. Wouldn’t be much of a hero if I let a pretty girl walk in the rain, would I?” Warren flirts, sending you a wink. You send him an incredulous look, before bursting out in laughter. Warren gasps, putting a hand over his “wounded” heart. 

     “Seriously? That was a good one, and you’re just laughing?” Warren complains, which only makes you laugh a bit harder. 

    “Oh please, that one was so cheesy!” You manage to say through the laughs. Warren is smiling, and it’s different than the smile he wears when he’s being an annoying jerk. His hair is wet, and his clothes are damp, but to be honest, you really start to understand why they call him Angel. You look away when you realize you’re blushing, but you can’t seem to wipe the smile off of your face. 

    “That guy was an idiot, by the way,” Warren says after a moment. Your smile falls a bit at the reminder of the start of the evening. “He really has no clue what he’s missing out on.” You snort at that, unable to keep yourself from rolling your eyes.

    “You sure have a lot to say for a guy who doesn’t like me all that much.” The words come out before you can really think about it, and you’re caught off guard when Warren stops walking. He doesn’t remove his arm from around your shoulders, but he moves so that he can look at you better.

    “What do you mean by that?” Warren asks, His face twisted in an expression you can’t quite figure out. The question and the seriousness in his tone surprise you, and you don’t quite know how to respond at first.

    “I- Huh?”

    “You don’t seriously think I dislike you, do you?” Warren asks again, worry bleeding through his tone. You furrow your brow in confusion.

    “What?? Warren, you’re not exactly subtle about it.” You mention, and Warren’s recoil is unexpected.

    “Oh my god, you do.” Warren holds his face in his hands for a quick moment, wondering how he had done so wrong. “Why would I dislike you? I literally spend every waking moment trying to get your attention!” You can’t help but let out a noise of confusion, mind working overtime to get the gears working in your head.

    “By tormenting me, you mean.” You say, and Warren vehemently shakes his head.

    “No! That’s not what I…” He begins, but he trails off. He��s trying to figure out something to say. Some way to let you know about how he feels, and his thoughts, but he just can't seem to find the words.

    “Okay then, Prove it.” You eventually say, crossing your arms defensively underneath his coat. Warren frowns at you.

    “What?” He asks.

    “Prove it. Prove that you don’t actually hate me.” You repeat again. You’re not exactly sure what you are expecting him to do or say. To be honest, you half expected him to give up altogether, but you were wrong about a lot of things.

    “I- you seriously want me to show you. Right now.” Warren asks again. You shrug your shoulders in response.

    “Yup.” Warren seems to take a moment for the confirmation to process, and then he smiles just slightly. Like he’s in disbelief about what he’s about to do. Before you know it, warren has dropped the umbrella, cupped your face with both hands, and pulled you into a kiss. 

    You’re wide-eyed for a moment, simply letting him kiss you in your disbelief as the rain pours down on you once again. Your mind still hasn’t quite caught up yet. Warren is kissing you so deeply, so lovingly, that you almost feel like you’re dreaming. He separates from you for a quick moment before kissing you again, this one a little less intense, and finally you find yourself catching up to the situation. You kiss him back, heart thundering in your chest. You can feel Warren physically relax, his wings fluttering just slightly behind him as you fully lean into the kiss, hands latching onto his shirt as you move closer. You feel him sigh into the kiss, and despite the cold rain, all you can feel is warmth. 

    When the two of you finally separate, Warren rests his forehead against yours. His pretty eyes look at you with fondness, and you find yourself wondering how you’d never seen it before. All he really wanted was your attention, didn’t he?

    “...We are so gonna get sick after this.” You mumble, brain still stalling a little bit. Warren lets out a laugh, pulling away to pick up the umbrella again. He pulls you a little closer than before as the two of you finally make it to the front steps.

    “Yeah, Probably.”

[nicohischierz]

who's afraid of little old me?: nico x player!reader

tagging: @ivy-34, @francesfarhadi, @hzstry8, @cixrosie, @itsnotgray, @estapa94, @trevs-swiftie, @heartz4hischif you want to join the taglist let me know!!

you stalked the comments under your post, whilst you knew you shouldn't have paid any attention to what was being said, you couldn't help yourself as curiosity got the best of you.

negativity is something everyone would tell you not to pay attention to but it was hard to do so when it was everywhere. it was as if the fans were ready to attack you at any point.

they didn't understand the hard work you put in to make it to the NHL. the blood, sweat and tears that went into ensuring your place in a professional hockey league.

the comments made by fans who didn't appreciate your hiatus were something you expected but after years of enduring such unnecessary hate, their comments only fuelled your want to play better in the season to come.

after giving birth to your daughter, you readied yourself for world championship games and surprised everyone when your name appeared on the list.

your interview was like a record scratch at a party. the interviewers asked about the influx of negativity towards you and you replied "who's afraid of little old me?"

they laughed it off as a joke but in your mind, you knew they should be.

the news of yours and nico's relationship spread like wildfire amongst the hockey community. adding the birth of your child made people question whether you were on the team for your skill or convenience.

whilst both of you were happy to be open about your relationship, you couldn't help but wonder why your name was the only one being tarnished.

"schatz, i will tell all of them to stop what they are saying. they wouldn't be true fans if they think it is okay to bring one of us down," nico promised one night.

you turned to him and smiled, placing a kiss on his lips. "you don't have to worry. it's not anything new,"

not only was your relationship the talk of the summer, but once the season had started paul bisonette made it his life's mission to make snide remarks about you relationship.

the jokes piled up as you played game after game, until one day you couldn't take it anymore. you sat in your apartment, tears streaming down your face as another joke made its way around the internet.

the devils were playing the rangers and body's were being thrown throughout the whole game. whilst you were a person who wasn't afraid to lay a hit, you steered away from fights.

but as a player from the opposing team chirped in your ear every moment he could, you dropped the gloves landing punch after punch until the referees pulled you apart.

in your post-game interview, a reporter asked what prompted you to start the fight and you answered. "I was tame, I was gentle 'til the circus life made me mean. it was about time I reminded everyone why I'm here,"

yourusername

yourusername: who's afraid of little old me?

no matter what you did, it seemed that the media was out to get you. now people were questioning your abilities as a mother as you continued on with your career.

"nico you tell me everything is not about me, but what if it is? every article about the devils has mentioned me in some and you can stand here and tell me that they didn't do it to hurt me," you screamed.

you came back to the season, feistier than before. showing everyone just how disturbed they made you. starting fights whenever and raking up your penalty minutes.

the older guys in the league (sidney crosby, matt martin and brad marchand) had all expressed their concern for the way you were acting and staged an intervention.

during the all-star break, they cornered you in your home and interrogated you about your behaviour. "we know what it's like to have all this media attention so you don't have to fight this on your own," matt prompted

you shrugged his hands off your shoulder and stood up. "all of you can talk about your difficulties but you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me. i'm always drunk on my own tears, isn't that what they all say?" you retorted, referring to your post-game interview where your frustrated tears were addressed by everyone.

as the season came to an end, the devils had clinched a playoff spot and you had been scratched the past five games. your behaviour had changed since your talk with sid, matt martin and brad but the three knew the media's words made a lasting impact on you.

so as the devils faced off against the penguins for the first round and reporters asked if you would play the way you have all season you replied, "I am the way I am because of the media. you all act afraid of me when this the a product of the belittling I received upon coming back,"

[cutielando]

i'm trying for you | r.c.

synopsis: in which he does his best to be the man you deserve

my masterlist

If Rafe Cameron was anything, he was a softy at heart. 

Only problem was, he didn't know how to voice or express his feelings. Given the environment he had grown up in, it wasn't necessarily a surprise. 

He had Ward as a father, it was all the explanation one would ever need.

Frankly, he hadn't had a reason to get in touch with his feelings for a very long time. He would occasionally hook up with random girls, but it would never turn into something serious.

He just wasn't the type of guy who would be in a relationship.

Until you came along.

He had found a reason to change, to become a better person for you, to try and show you just how much he loved you and appreciated you being in his life.

From the very first moment he had seen you at one of his friend's parties, he knew that he had to get to know you. You were so intriguing to him, he would find himself thinking about you at the most random of times.

The first time you spoke and when he asked you out were imprinted in his mind like it was yesterday.

You in your flowery-themed swimsuit, swimming on your board in front of his house, stopping when you had heard him calling your name.

"What's up?" you had asked him once he had stopped running and came face to face with you.

"What are you doing all the way out here? This is nowhere near your house" Rafe tried to hide how nervous he was while talking to you, not wanting to let you know how nervous he would get in your presence.

Your eyes squinted, wanting to ask how he knew where you lived but decided against it. Your family was rich as fuck so you also lived on Figure 8, it shouldn't be a surprise that the Kooks would know where she lived.

"I was bored, decided to swim around a little and get accustomed to the marsh and everything" you explained, watching him closely with a hint of a smile on your face.

"Well, if you want someone to show you around, I could do that. I could walk with you around the island, show you the best places and then we could get something to eat" he was scratching his head, mentally punching himself because of how childish he sounded.

"I'd really like that" you smiled and nodded, almost chuckling once you noticed how surprised Rafe was.

"Really? Okay, perfect. Give me your phone number so I can text you the details" he said, almost dropping his phone in the process.

You bit your lip and typed in your phone before biding your goodbyes and continuing your activities.

That was the moment when Rafe knew he was a goner. The way you looked at him when he spoke, the smile you would try and hide from him, the twinkle in your eyes and your dimples, he couldn't get you out of his head for days.

When the day of your date came, he was a nervous wreck. He didn't want to screw anything up, knowing that he couldn't lose you because of how rusty he was in the love department.

He had enlisted Wheezie and Sarah to help him, the girls giving him some advice on what to talk about, how to act, what to do and so on. Rafe even took some notes, writing down some prompts to make sure he wouldn't forget anything.

You found it cute, how he would constantly check his phone and go in his notes, thinking that you couldn't see from across the table.

"Rafe" you put your hand on his and it made his head snap back to look at you, his other hand hurriedly locking his phone.

"Y-Yeah?" he tried to seem natural, but he knew deep down that you had caught him in the act.

"You don't have to be nervous and you don't have to keep checking the notes you have on your phone. You're doing fine and you don't need those notes when you're so amazing yourself. Loosen up, I won't bite" 

After that, Rafe could feel all the stress leaving his body as he finally relaxed back onto his chair, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

From that moment on, Rafe had done nothing but be himself. With the good, with the bad, he was being Rafe. The Rafe you would soon come to love.

He took you on several dates after your first one, only asking you to be his girlfriend after the 5th one, making sure he wasn't being too pushy and making moves too soon.

You thought it was very sweet of him, knowing that it was a significant change on his part from his previous relationships with girls all around the island.

The first time he told you he loved you was a very big moment in your relationship. Having already known how difficult his relationship with his feelings was, you wanted him to take it slow and not push him. He would slowly let you in when he would be ready.

It was a very chill evening in the Cameron household, a comfortable silence hanging in the air around you. Rose and Ward were attending a gala and would be back late in the night, Sarah was at a party with the Pogues and John B and Wheezie had so kindly agreed to having a sleepover with a friend of hers in order to leave the two of you alone.

Because of your busy schedules, you had barely spent any time together in the last couple of days, days which made Rafe realize how much he valued your presence and how much he appreciated it when you were around, even if you weren't doing anything.

As you were trying to focus on the movie playing on the TV, you felt Rafe's eyes burn a hole in the side of your head, which made you smile and look at him.

"You're going to strain your eyes if you keep looking at me so much" you giggled, which made his insides turn to mush and a stupid smile to appear on his otherwise broody face.

"I can't help it. I love you too much not to stare at your beauty all day long" he confessed.

At first, you hadn't quite registered what he had said, but the little unsure smirk he had on his face made you do a double-take and your eyes widened in surprise.

"What did you just say?" you whispered, your hands suddenly becoming sweaty.

"I love you" Rafe repeated, and now you were sure that you had indeed heard the right thing.

You couldn't stop yourself from jumping onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing every inch of his face that you could reach from your position.

"I love you too" you whispered, looking into his eyes before you finally leaned in and kissed his lips.

Rafe hadn't grown up around love, but he knew that what he felt with you was love.

Love in the purest form from the purest soul.

You.

You were his love. 

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[merlucide]

reader gets hit on

Notes: holy shit i didn’t know I had this in me- I read this, and then they were like “you should write sum using this” and I was like “Hell the fuck yah” soooooo! 2 friend read throughs later, I present to you this fic attempt!!!(also had no idea what to call this lmao)

Words: 1k

Warnings: reader is fem(can be read as gn or masc), harassment, alcohol mentions.

"You don't have to protect me. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't protect myself."

"I'm not protecting you because you're a woman. I'm protecting you because you're my woman." - @leosxrealm

Excitement buzzed through you at the thought of the upcoming party, a chance to mingle and have fun. You found Shouei, hoping you could convince him to come with you. "There's a party tonight at Fukiwara-kun’s. It's going to be really fun. I’m gonna go, you’ll come too?" you asked, a hopeful smile on your lips.

Barou's reaction was immediate, his brow furrowing. "No, and you shouldn't go" he replied, his voice full of disapproval.

"Why not? It's just a party, it’ll be fun!”you protested.

“Parties like that are just trouble waiting to happen. You know how those scrubs are, especially with drinks involved. It’s not safe. End of discussion.”he argued, his annoyance evident.

Frustrated by his lack of trust, you retorted, "I can take care of myself, you know. I have fine judgment of who to avoid. " Without waiting for his reply, you turned and left, determined to enjoy your night despite his warnings.

At the party, the house was alive with music and laughter. Your friends wave you over, and you chat with them for a while. You left to go refill your cup of punch, when a guy, clearly having enjoyed one drink too many, slid up to you. "Hey, gorgeous, haven't seen you around before. Wanna dance?" he slurred, his intentions as clear as the alcohol on his breath.

“Ah no thank you.” You politely decline, he inches closer to you “Ah come on- don’t be like that. Let’s- let’s have some fun yeah? That’d be fun” he pressed, now grabbing onto your arms. your attempts to politely decline proving useless. The fun and freedom of the party suddenly replaced by an urgent desire for space and safety. Before you could respond, a shadow falls over you both, the music and laughter fading into the background as Barou Shouei steps into the scene. His arrival is like a storm, immediate and threatening. his demeanor is overwhelming, his eyes, dark with anger, his jaw ticked as he glares down at the man holding you.

“Let her go,” Barou commands, his voice a low rumble that cuts through the noise of the party. His stance protective and threatening. The guy, sensing the seriousness of the situation and perhaps noticing the danger in Barou’s unwavering gaze, releases your arm, stepping back lowering his head and raises his hands up in defense.

“You’re leaving,” he tells you, not a suggestion but a command. He firmly grabs your arm, dragging you through the crowd of people.

The street outside the house is pretty empty, a  few streetlights shine down, making the sidewalk glow a little in the darkness. Now and then, you might hear a car in the distance, but that’s pretty much it.

“Shouei, you didn’t have to drag me out. I could’ve handled it,” you say, your voice a mix of gratitude and frustration. You’re aware of his need to protect, but you were frustrated that he came, not trusting you to take care of yourself. Though, you really were glad he did, that guy scared you. The mixture of emotions swirling in your gut, and the adrenaline from the previous scene didn’t help.

"I told you, it's not safe. I knew something like that would happen.” he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

You sighed, knowing he was pretty much right. It really pissed you off  that he thought you couldn’t handle yourself. "You don't have to protect me. Just because I'm a woman doesn't mean I can't protect myself," you fired back, your frustration peaking.

Barou's expression softened slightly, his next words careful. "I'm not protecting you because you're a woman. I'm protecting you because you're my woman." he admitted firmly, his voice carrying a weight that made you pause.

 you can’t help but feel a warmth spread through you. His honesty and the raw concern in his voice, showing a side of him that’s vulnerable and sincere. It’s a reminder of why you care for him so much, his willingness to stand by you, even when his instincts lead him to overstep.

Despite the comfort his words bring, a part of you insists on showing your need for independence. “Shouei, hearing you say that means a lot to me, it really does. And I feel safe knowing you’re here,” you begin, your voice soft but firm, “But I also need you to understand that I can take care of myself. I value my freedom”

You pause, looking for the right words to show your feelings of appreciation and your need for freedom. “It’s about trust, trusting me to handle situations on my own and knowing when to step in. I need that space, to feel free.” You fiddle your fingers.

Barou listens, the usual intensity in his eyes softening as he thinks about what you said. After a moment, he nods, a silent acknowledgment of your needs. “I get it” he says, and though the words are simple, it’s telling you that he will try.

everything feels okay again between you and Barou. You look at him and see how much he really cares. The night air around you feels calm now.

You move closer to Barou and hug him. He hugs you back, tucking his head in your neck. Barou then gently lifts your chin and gives you a soft kiss. It's a sweet way to make up, showing you both are okay now, without needing many words.

With a smile, you both decide it's time to head home. His hand on your waist, you both start walking, enjoying the quiet night around you. The party seems like a long time ago.

This walk home feels special because it's clear you both understand and care for each other. 

Barou can’t help the way he feels the intense need to protect you. You’re just too important.

WAS THIS OKAY??? IVE NEVER DONE ANYTGUNG LIKE THIS BEFORE??? PLEASE LET ME KNOW🙏 also yes I know Barou would punch the dude, I just dunno how to write that lmao

made February 18th 2024

[pablitogavii]

Can you write a longer angsty story where Y/N runs away from a guy (who was aggressive/sexually inappropriate etc) and then Gavi jumps in being like “who did this to you”, “touch her and you die”

Y/N sobbing against his chest. Gavi getting angry and punching the guy.

Y/N being like “I’m okay” Gavi being overprotective and insisting that she stay at his place

Maybe with smut

Don't touch her

You knew Pablo since you were together in middle school. Then he left to play professionally but you kept being each other's favorite enemies. Somehow you could never see eye to eye.

Both of your families always talked about you two being together because of how much you "hate" on each other. Even Aurora always teases you about it.

You were right now in one of the most uncomfortable dates of your life. They guy was way too touchy and you wanted to leave asap.

"Wanna go over to my place guapa?" he smirked reaching his hand underneath the table to place it on your knee and you gulped sending the text to the first person on your list, and it just had to be Pablo.

You two were fighting last night about something again so he was on your speed dial always. Pablo received your location with an "sos" so he was already in the car on the way to you.

No matter the arguments and fights, there was no way Pablo wouldn't come when you called...likewise went for you being first there during his injury.

"Alright, let's go!" he said reaching your hand and walking out of the restaurant. You wanted to leave the place before telling him you're not up for it not knowing that was more dangerous.

"I'm a little tired, maybe next time" you say trying to move away but his grip tightened. Damn will that stupid Pablo come already!

"Let go of me ..." you say trying to pull away and he slammed you against the concrete wall and you hit your head feeling dizzy. His hand went on your throat and he left marks while kissing your skin making you sick!

"Please, stop ..." you were crying and suddenly someone pulled the guy off you tossing him to the floor and pulling you to his side.

"P..Pablo" you say drying your tears and he pulled you behind his back while the guy stood back up marching towards you two.

"Touch her ...and you die" Pablo was stern and cold and something in you warmed up at his words. It felt special to hear him protect you like this. You somehow always felt safe when he was there for you.

"Who are you, her bodyguard!?" guy said and you felt your cheeks flush.

"Who me!? Nah! You're crazy!" Pablo negated like always and you remembered why you guys hated each other so much. It was always hard to admit what you two felt for each other.

"So why are you here???" guy said and you wanted to know the answer to that question.

"Problem mio" Pablo simply said pulling you towards his car and the guy walked towards you trying to grab you resulting in Gavi punching you hard that his nose bled.

"Let's get you home nena..." he said after you were both in the car and you shook your head quickly. Last thing you wanted is to explain what happened to your parents. You just wanted to sleep and forget all about it.

"Vale, let's go to my house then huh?" he said and you nodded as he noticed you were still shaking up a little bit.

"You're safe now" he said reaching one of his hands to grab yours and you blush once again ...was Pablo really holding your hand and being gentle with you???

"I'm okay ..." you say sadly and he nodded continuing to hold your hand all the way to his house.

"Where are your parents?" you ask as you walked inside the gorgeous mansion at the edge of town.

"Back in Seville with Aurora. I'm alone for awhile" he explained as you walked to the living room and sat down quite sad and shy.

Pablo made you a cup of tea still keeping your favorite black one around, before sitting besides you and raising up your chin. This was all new and strange but you weren't complaining at the way Pablo was making you feel tonight.

"I shouldn't have went ..." you say feeling like all of this could have been prevented if you stayed at home.

"No, he shouldn't force you on anything you're not ready for ...it should have been enough to be in your company ..." Pablo was catching himself off guard not knowing why he cared all of the sudden.

"Um Pablo ...I'm a little tired" you say and he jumps helping you to the guest room before bringing you one of his shirts to change into for bed. It wasn't the first time he saw you in his clothes over the years, but tonight it felt strangely good.

"Um ...thank you for everything tonight" you spoke playing with the edges of his shirt that was falling to your knees and he smiled nodding his head and slowly getting closer. Your heart was being so strong against your chest ... what is this feeling!?

When you closed your eyes, you felt his hand touching your hair and he left a kiss on top of your head gently. It was more passion you felt when any other guy gave you a real kiss.

"I'm glad you're safe now, nena" was all he said before wishing you a goodnight and leaving to his own room.

For the next few hours, neither of you could sleep. You were both very much turned on and desperate for each other's company. It was you who slowly got to your feet and walked into his room first despite how nervous you were about it.

"Pablo? Are you sleeping?" you ask and before you could finish the sentence he was already sitting up and smiling towards you.

"No, can't ...you?" he said and you shook your head while pouting. Despite wanting Pablo, you were also a little shaken up after tonights events.

"Well, come here and we'll watch something together?" he said and you smile getting underneath the covers and he scrolls through the channels until you chose a very much romantic movie to watch.

"These are corny!" he complained for the fifth time and you giggled turning your attention away from the TV and looking into his eyes instead without another word.

"Why? Because they're romantic? Or because you wish they were real?" you came closer biting your lip while looking into his and he took the signal smirking and snaking his arm around your waist.

"You mean real like this nena?" he spoke softly and you nodded placing your hand on his heart feeling it beating fast.

"Why did you save me Pablo?" you ask and he shrugs feeling a little shy and proud to admit that he hated the fact you were out with anyone but himself.

"Because ... well because you needed me y basta!" he said looking away but you placed your finger underneath his chin making him look back at you.

"You keep going on how much you hate me, and yet you are always there when I need you?" you smirk and he blushes tightening his grip around your waist.

"One would think you're lying and that tu eres muerto por mi Pablito?" you tease making him roll his eyes at you but then your hands went to his hair and he became serious again.

"Que haces conmigo nena!?" he smirks and you blush enjoying the way his hair feeling underneath your fingertips. Soon after you two cuddled up together and fell asleep in each other's embrace.

What you didn't expect is that his family arrived the next morning finding the two of you cuddled up in his bed. Aurora was quick to play some music and make you both jump in fear being all disheveled and now very much embarrassed.

"I knew you two would end up together!" she giggled

"WE'RE NOT TOGETHER!" you both yelled at the same time looking into each other's eyes and bursting into laughter.

"Okay, they know now nena...whatever I don't care!" he says grabbing your face and kissing you sweetly before his family left you two to get ready and come down for breakfast.

"You're all mine now nena.." he smirks pulling you closer and you felt your heart jumping a beat at his words..together with you enemy..it felt unreal..but so natural and right.

"All yours Pablito.." you whisper back before you two started kissing again more passionately.

pablogavi

Barcelona, Spain

You're mine now, nena😍

comentarios:

gavisgirls: he's taken now chicas!! :(((

y.n.bebe: hehe my fav enemy 🤴🏻

pablogavi: no more enemies, now lovers👸🏻

aurorapaezg: I called it first!

pedri: me too!!

pablogavi:😂😂😂

[vssail]

aventurine x fem! reader

warnings: boss x secretary, VERY out of character, reader is tired of avens gambling addiction

this is my first post here and also my first time trying to write something in english that isn't for school, so sorry if there are mistakes. hope someone likes it!

Many times you regretted picking up this job.

It was the 10th missing call you left to Aventurine. As always, he didn't picked the phone.

Sighing, you got up from your confy bed. You didn't even bother to change to proper clothes, judging by the time, almost 3 am, everyone at the casino would be too drunk to notice some girl walking in there in sleeping clothes. Your priority right now was to take Aventurine out of there and go back to your confy bed.

After a short ride in your car, you got in that demonic place. The bright lights were blinding you. You really hated casinos.

You didn't have to search too much to find the man you were looking for. A fight in the poker table was the only necessary hint you needed to find your boss. When you reached the scene, it was the same as always: some looser that doesn't accept his bad luck.

"There's no way you won five rounds in a row!" a guy shouted while holding the little peacock of your boss by the shirt collar.

This always happened, and you always appeared to save him from a beating. But this night you were tired, tired of all the paperwork he gave you last minute, tires of staying up because he didn't want to pick his fucking phone, tired for having to take the car at 3 am and tired of seeing the same scene every freaking night.

He saw you behind the guy, and a proud smile appeared on his face, thinking that you were going to save him like always. You could see his face change when he saw the guy holding him and you not moving to stop him. In your mind, this would be a good lesson for him to stop his bad habits.

Then, the first punch came, making his glasses to fly away of his face. That was the fact that changed your decision of not doing anything. With his eyes exposed to the angry looser, what you expected that was going to be some punches was going to turn into another thing beyond a game.

"A damn Avgin, I knew you were a liar!" he said. You could see your boss looking for you while trying to recover from the punch.

"I'm gonna beat you so hard that you-" he stopped talking to scream in pain from your sudden grip on his arm.

"He what, little fucker?" You encouradged him to continue. Aventurine was suddenly at your side, with that horrible proud smile again in his face.

After giving the guy a little warning to never mess up with your boss, you let him go.

"For a moment I though you were going to let me on my own" he joked.

"I was" you simply said, getting out of that damn place. You knew he would follow you.

"What?!" he shouted, stopping you in the hall of the casino "Why would you let that man beat me up? You know that if I'm dead, you won't be paid, right?"

Before speaking, you took a long, long breath, so you wouldn't scream at him.

"In my contract there's nothing about saving my boss at 3 am in casinos" you breathed again ", there's nothing about risking my own life to save him from fights." you didn't breathe this time "Do you know how much I sleep beetwin finishing the work that you give me in the last minute and searching for you?! For the love of the Aeons, I'm a secretary! I shouldn't be beating people up for you!"

You didn't notice, but you started crying in the first sentence. And you wouldn't notice if he didn't wipe the tears at your cheeks. You were too angry to let him touch you, and tried to push him away, but he got close again and hugged you. This time, you just accepted the hug, but didn't hug him back.

"I didn't know I was causing you so much stress and trouble," he whispered in your ear "I'm sorry for everything"

"Being sorry isn't enough"

"I know, just as you know that I can't promise you to stop gambling" he separated from you to see your face, and took off his jacket to put it over you (you didn't realise you were trembling) "but I can promise you that I'll try to control myself"

You didn't reply, just buried your face on his neck and hug him.

"When I started working with you and saw you risking your life like it is nothing, I wonder if you knew what self-love is" you asked, holding him tighter

"Why would I care about risking my life when no one cares?"

"I'm gonna kill you" you broke the hug and prepared to beat him.

"Wait wait wait, it's not the same as what I mean" he got away from you "you only care because I'm your boss"

"You little..." you breathed to calm yourself down "If i only cared about you professionaly, I wouldn't go to casinos in the middle of the night in sleeping clothes only to look for you and make sure that you're okay. You don't pay me enough to do all that shit"

He seemed to think about what you said.

"Do you mean that you do that because you care about me?"

He looked at you like he just had discovered a whole new galaxy.

"Yes"

"In a loving way?"

"Maybe, can we go now?" you started to get embarassed of all this sudden confession.

"Wait" he holded you, one hand in your arm and other on your cheek "That means that I can kiss you?"

You easily got away from his hold.

"Yes, but not tonight" you started to go to your car, taking your keys to open it "You won't get a kiss until you return every missing call that I left you this week"

"Oh, common!" he run after you, unable to hold back the genuine smile that appeared in his face.

I really went out of character but hope that someone likes this.

[what-if-nct]

Stray Kids reaction to someone making fun of their plus size girlfriend.

Bangchan: You noticed Chan's teeth clinch and his fist tightened while he tried to keep his cool. "It's fine, it's nothing I haven't heard before." You say causing the tension in his body to relax as his eyes softened when he looked to you "That doesn't make it okay. You don't deserve that. It's not okay" he wraps his arms around you. "Your weight should never matter that much to anyone." His lips sink into the top of your head.

Lee know: "look at me" he places his hand under your chin. "Don't listen to them. You're perfect and their opinion doesn't matter" He kisses your forehead then gives you his wallet and says "Get my bail money from my card" He then runs off in the direction of the person making fun of you.

Changbin: "What did you say?!" Changbin stands in front of you. "What the fuck did you just say?!" he tries to charge but is held back by you. He looks at you and calms down. He takes your hand in his and says "Fuck that guy." And pulls you away but he heard one last remark and before you knew it his fist clashed with the other guys jaw, repeatedly.

Hyunjin: He takes the headphones from around his neck and puts them on your head quickly turning something on loud enough to block out the taunting sounds of those around you. He pulls you into his chest, burying his face into your hair as he squeezes you close to him. He pulls away and takes you far from where you were. Once alone he removes his headphones. "Are you okay?" He asks as he fixes your hair. The moment you say "I'm used to it" the way your voice broke caused Hyunjin to hold you closer than before as he softly whispered "You shouldn't be"

Han: "Hey" Han called your attention "You want to get out of here?" Han stood holding his hand out for you. Once you put your hand on his he leads you out of the restaurant. He sits you down on a bench. "You okay?" He asks as he searches for your eyes that avoid his. You quietly nod but he doesn't believe you. "no you're not" he holds your hands "But as long as you have me I will always try my best to make sure you are. I'll make sure you forget every mean word anyone has said to you" he held your attention with his soft brown eyes" I promise" his lips pressed against yours.

Felix: "What did you just say?" Felix stood from his seat and faced the one who threw insults at you. "no, no what did you just say about my girlfriend?" he stood tall in front of you. "You don't know her and you have no right to comment on her body or what she eats." His voice deepens as he speaks and they remain silent. "That's what I thought" Felix chuckled at their silence then went back to you taking your hand in his and pulling you out the door. "Hey" Felix took both of your hands in his "You're perfect as you are" tears he held back moments prior began to emerge as his lips pressed against your hands.

Seungmin: "Dumbasses, don't listen to them" Seungmin scoffed at the sneering directed toward you. "Picking on someone's weight is just the lowest level of intelligence" he rubbed circles into your thighs "You're above them" he brought you into his chest as he held you on the bench.

Jeongin: "Just let me punch one of them" Jeongin bargained as you held him still in his seat. "You don't deserve to be spoken about like that" his body tensed up beneath your touch. "I swear if one of them says another thing" you could feel his muscles twitch under your hold. You just sunk into his chest wrapping your arms around his waist. He softened with your embrace, the tremble in your body caused him to hold you tighter. "You're body is not the problem. They are" he said then pressed his lips onto your forehead.

[marcysgf]

attention.

★ – satoru wants your attention ;)

18+, mdni !!

☆ – this is my first time writing smut, sorry if it's bad :p pluzzz english is not my first language !

– ★ –

you knew you should've known better than to invite your friends to go out with you. not that they were bad or something, much the contrary. it's just that you knew he would come along, he always did. even after you broke up, a few months ago, he'd still make sure to go to every party you've been thinking about going to.

if it was just him being there, it'd be completely alright, you weren't children and could stay at the same room for a few hours without fighting. it would all be perfectly fine if satoru wasn't an attention seeker, doing his best to catch your attention and even ruining your potential dates.

it was always the same: every time a guy would even try to even look at you or try to approach you, he'd just wrap his arm around your waist in a possessive way while staring directly at the guy, or he'd just kiss the first person he saw in front of you, just to see if it'd bother you. it always did, even though you'd rather die than admit it. and, unfortunately for you, tonight was not different.

you were laughing at a joke a guy had just told you, a margarita in one hand while the other one landed on his large arm, a small smirk on your lips as you watched him practically eye fucking you. if you were lucky enough, you'd end up having more fun than planned at the end of the night. but, of course, all your plans were ruined again as soon as the white haired man came in scene.

“princess, you said you'd only get some drinks and come back, why are you taking so long?” his whiny voice echoed in your ears as his face approached your neck, leaving a wet kiss on it while his long arms snaked around your waist, pulling your body closer to his. “oh, and who would that be?”

you gritted your teeth in annoyance at the man behind you, holding the urge to punch him right in face. you could feel the smirk in his voice as he stared at the poor guy, who watched the scene with a confused expression. “oh baby, is this guy bothering you? knew i shouldn't have left you alone, now everyone thinks they could talk to such a pretty thing like ya. now, buddy, will ya excuse us? need to have my girlfriend back.”

“satoru, fuck off. we already broke up months ago, stop acting like we're together.” you protested, trying to leave his embrace but he only tightened it, squeezing your waist.

“umm, sorry, i should leave now.” the guy said sheepishly, his face beet red as he quickly left the two of you alone.

and you just sat there in disbelief, your hand gripping the cup so tightly you thought it might break at any moment. gojo laughed childishly, making your even more angrier as you slapped his arm, rolling your eyes as he whined in your ear, telling you how mean you are.

“satoru, what in the fucking hell is wrong with you?!”

“what? can't i protect what's mine?” he answered simply, leaving a playful bite at your earlobe.

“i'm not yours and you know that damn well. stop acting like an asshole every time we go out!”

“is that so?” he smirked again, letting go of your body just to stand in front of you. his large hand carefully held your chin as it pulled you closer to his face, the delicious mix of his expensive cologne and the smell of the alcohol on his breath invading your nose. “if you hate it so much, why do you keep inviting me, baby? hm? hoping to wake up in my bed again?”

“fuck you, satoru.” you harshly reply, wanting to leave him alone but not being able to move a single muscle, your own body betraying you. your eyes flick to his rosy lips, then back to his blue eyes again. ignoring the way your brain yelled at you to stop, your body moved closer to his, your lips softly brushing against his before closing the gap, a quiet moan leaving both your mouths at the contact.

and that is how you ended up in this situation: your legs thrown over his shoulders as his hips hit the back of your thighs repeatedly, the loud sound of slapping skin echoing through his room. satoru's grip on your plush thighs were almost bruising the skin as his cock bullied the inside of your pussy, his tip kissing all the right spots with every thrust.

“fuck, baby, you're so hot.” he managed to say between his moans “missed– fuck– missed your pretty pussy... always take me so well.”

you moan loudly at his raspy voice, your pussy clenching hard around his dick as your hand sneaked between your legs to rub quick circles on your clit. it's barely been five minutes and you could already feel the knot tightening inside your stomach, your legs shaking lightly. and, of course, satoru noticed, how could he not when it was so hard to move when your pussy was squeezing his dick so much?

“gonna cum, pretty girl?” he smirk, his hand replacing your on your throbbing clit. “just f'me, right? you're all mine. bet that guy wouldn't even be able to satisfy you, you'd probably leave unsatisfied and come back to me, huh.”

“fuck, 'toru, just like that.” your moans are like music to his ears, and he makes sure to get them out of you with every move of his hips. your hands massaged your boobs through the lacy bra, pinching your sensitive nipples as you feel his cock massaging repeatedly your g-spot. your high came shortly after a few strokes of his, your whole body shaking in pleasure.

you whine loudly at the overstimulation, his cock never leaving your sensitive cunt, fucking it mercilessly. satoru groaned in your neck, biting it hard while he came inside you, his thrusts slowing down and becoming sloppier, his sticky cum painting your insides, as he was making a mess because he wouldn't stop even after cumming.

“t-toru, ah... too much, baby” he laughed quietly at your whiny voice, finally stopping the attack on your pussy. he slowly pulled back, his now soft dick leaving your warm cunt as he smiled at the mess he made.

“hmm, would've ruined your date earlier if i knew i could get to fuck you like this.” he joked while teasing your sensitive entrance with his long fingers, watching you shudder. he then kneeled down in front of you, his mouth leaving a wet kiss on your clit. “we're not done yet, pretty, need to make up for the time we lost.”

[klaustozier]

suckerpunch ; chishiya

SUMMARY: you and chishiya are the leaders of the two rival gangs that control the city, but, one night, when you see chishiya being unfairly harmed, you save him.

this is smut, be aware of what you read!

warnings: chishiya x fem!reader, you're a fucking badass, chishiya's older than you, enemies to fuck buddies, this was a request so here it is (i hope that what i did is okay to the person that asked for a hate fuck, cause i wanted to be a little more rough), drugs (only weed), degradation kink, chishiya has tattoos, choking, spanking

word count: 4,4k

english is not my first language, i'm sorry for any mistakes.

i hope you like it.

Maybe you shouldn't be doing this, but there was no other option. You weren't going to leave him in the hospital, he was going to put him in jail and there was a certain balance in the city with the two gangs and you knew it, it wasn't worth destroying everything over a shitty new gang.

You and Chishiya were the leaders of the gangs that dominated the city's traffic and the two gangs left the city balanced, running normally and it was like that for so many years that it was already part of everyday life, but a third gang had begun to want to take over the city. You were trying to find them to destroy them, but you didn't have much information yet.

That night you were going to a convenience store to get some food when you saw three guys punching and kicking a fourth guy on the floor of an empty parking lot, you thought the fight was unfair and decided you were going to stop it, it got even more personal when you saw who it was the blonde guy on the floor, his face all bruised and bloody from the blows he had taken. You weren't going to let a random gang kill the enemy that was yours even more so in a fight like that.

So you killed the three of them and took Chishiya to your car. He wasn't easy to carry him, but you did it. You wouldn't share your city with people who enjoyed that kind of unfair fighting.

When you noticed you were sitting Chishiya on top of your toilet, inside your bathroom, inside your studio apartment. If there was no way to get Chishiya to a hospital and you didn't know how to contact his gang to get their leader, then you had to take care of him.

“Chishiya?”, you called softly, lightly slapping his face, who woke up startled, ready to punch whoever called him, but you wrapped your hand around his fist, “Calm down, calm down, I won't hurt you .”

Shuntaro's eyes widened and he looked around, "What do you think you're doing?"

“Can you calm down?”, you asked, letting go of his hand, opening the mirror cabinet over the sink to Chishiya’s left and taking out a heavy-duty first-aid kit you had (heavy-duty as it had a needle and thread to sew up wounds, if needed).

“Where am I?”

“Okay, let's go”, you placed the first-aid kit over the sink and opened it taking cotton, alcohol, gauze and plaster from inside and placed them on the sink, doing it while explaining: “I was going to buy…”, and you decided not to say what you were going to specify what you were doing, he didn't deserve to know, “something when I saw three people hitting one in an empty parking lot. I thought the fight was very unfair, it was three against one, the person on the ground was already unconscious and I considered stopping the fight, until I saw that you were the one on the ground and decided that I was definitely going to stop the fight.”

Chishiya listened in silence and watched as you soaked a cotton ball in alcohol, “But why did you save me? You could have let me die.”

You laughed, stood in front of the other and pulled his face up by the chin, still smirking, "If there's anyone in this town who's going to kill you, it's going to be me."

Chishiya's eyes widened a little. That statement was supposed to sound threatening, and it did, so why did he feel his stomach turn over and not with fear? His concluding thoughts were cut short when the alcohol swab touched his cut lip making him shift and move away from the swab.

“No, no, no”, you said holding him by the back of the head, “I'm going to have to clean these wounds so swallow your crying.”

Chishiya should have been offended, but once again his body reacted differently, maybe he hit his head or got hit too hard. What he didn't think about was how strange and different that was, they never had that dynamic, they had already met and talked several times, but it was a strange situation. They had never touched each other before. It felt like where your fingers touched him it burned his body.

You didn't feel different, being silent with the other and taking care of him was strange and you liked it. What your shouldn't, you were just taking care of the enemy that way so you could personally kill him in the future.

“Take off your shirt”, you asked.

Chishiya frowned at you, “Not even a wine? Not even a little vodka just to cheer me up?”

You rolled your eyes and laughed, "Fuck you, just take your fucking shirt off."

“So violent… Jesus, you sound like a criminal… like a gang member.”

“Shut up, Shuntaro, just do what I say.”

Chishiya laughed and pulled his shirt up, his torso hurted a little doing that, but it could be worse. There were some shallow cuts on his chest, that was where the blood on his shirt came from, but luckily nothing that needed sewing up. You just kept cleaning up, not wanting to pay too much attention to the bruised and tattooed chest.

“How did they get to you like that? Alone?”, you asked, trying not to pay attention to his body, it wasn't the moment to be attracted to Chishiya.

“I have a suspicion that someone from my gang told them where I was going”, Chishiya sucked in air between his teeth as alcohol fell into his chest wounds, “I didn't like one of them anyway, now I'm sure that he must have been in on it."

“And why did you let him join the gang if you didn’t like him?”

“He was already in the gang when I became a leader”, he explained, his face contorting as you cleaned his wounds.

“And how do you intend to take care of it? It is not good to have a snitch in the group.”

“First, I'm going to try to see if it really is him”, began the seated man and once again sucked in air between his teeth, “Maybe I should pretend to go somewhere alone and see if they show up again, so I can do some kind of ambush and destroy them all.”

“Would you like some help?”

"What? Do you want to help?"

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend, isn't it?", you shrugged, "And I don't like them, I like them less than I like you."

“Awwwn”, Chishiya placed his hand over his heart and pouted.

“Fuck off", you commanded laughing softly, “And they're messing with my business too, it doesn't hurt to get together and end this little game, there's already two people running the town and that's enough.”

"We can join forces then, princess", Chishiya nodded, "But it will be for a very short time, we'll settle that and each one will go to their corner."

“Deal, Shuntaro.”

You offered your hand and Chishiya shook it briefly, sealing the deal. After that, you continued to clean his wounds and soon started bandaging all the cuts. Silence reigned, the two thinking about many things that did not involve rivalry or what happened. They both thought the same thing, in fact, how attractive the other was. Perhaps all the adrenaline had them a little out of their minds.

“Are you going to put gauze on my wounds and choke me to death?”, asked Chishiya, breaking the silence, making you laugh.

“Not today”, you replied smiling, “You're hurt, it wouldn't be fair. If I ever plan to kill you, it will be a fair fight, with both of you well rested and fed, no firearms, just bladed weapons and our fists and whoever dies, dies.”

The blonde nodded, "And in that case, it's going to be me the one who dies, right?"

 You leaned towards his face, getting dangerously close and smirked, "Of course."

“What makes you so sure you'd win, kitten?”, Chishiya challenged, the twinkle in his eyes was making you extremely tempted.

“I'm clearly faster”, you said, smiling.

Chishiya laughed wryly, and quickly fell silent as you took the scissors from the firs-aid kit and pressed the sharp tip against the blonde's Adam's apple, who swallowed hard.

Chishiya's strong, beautiful hand wrapped around your wrist and pushed it away from his neck, "And I'm stronger", he said, you forced your hand back into place, but the older one was stronger anyway, even if he wasn't the best conditions to fight.

You tried to attack using your other hand, but your wrist was also grabbed and Chishiya joined both of his hands and held it using only one of your hands.

“Do you want to keep playing, princess?”, teased the oldest.

You laughed wryly, tried to move your wrists and were unsuccessful, "You're still going to get fuck for crossing my path, Chishiya."

“I honestly think you're the one who's going to get fucked over this, baby girl.”

And the two faced each other. Hearts racing, that kind of talk was releasing too much adrenaline to make them think straight. Your eyes dropped to Chishiya's pretty lips, who mimicked the movement, it wasn't something easy to resist. Neither of them noticed exactly when this had happened, but in a moment one advanced towards the other and they began to kiss.

There was so much anger in that kiss. Chishiya would sometimes let out low whimper of pain, because his still delicate cut lip was being crushed by your lips. Even though you didn't want to admit it, those whimpers were making you so fucking horny. Maybe they shouldn't do anything since Chishiya was hurt, but you were leaving it up to him to say he wanted to stop.

Chishiya finally released his grip and grabbed your thighs pulling you onto his lap and pinned you against the cold tile wall.

“You are so light”, mocked the older one.

“Shut up, motherfucker”, you said, rolling your eyes.

“Wow, you sound like a criminal”, mocked the other again.

You rolled your eyes, "Are you going to do something or are you going to hold me here on the wall and get degraded?"

"There should be fetishes just for that."

“Do you have a fetish with that by any chance?”

The blonde chuckled and clasped your thighs in his hands, “No… not like this anyway…”

Chishiya came out of the bathroom with you in his arms and walked to your bed, where he threw you on the mattress and got on top of you. When he went to try to kiss you again, you grabbed him with your legs and arms and spun you around on the bed, getting on top.

“Are you as strong as you think, Chishiya?”, you teased.

The blonde laughed and leaned on his right elbow while his left hand went to the back of your neck pulling you closer, "Yes, I am", he informed, returning to kiss you.

The hand on the back of your neck that caressed your hair slid to your throat and wrapped it gently at first, wanting to know if it was okay to do what he wanted to do. As there wasn't any kind of displeasure shown, he gently squeezed the sides of your neck, receiving a soft sigh in return.

Chishiya parted their lips and watched the scene for a little while. You took your hand to the other's wrist and held on to it as if you needed help to hold yourself together. Your face was contorted adorably and your lips pretty, red and glossy. Chishiya was so hot with the cuts and bruises, he was already beautiful, but this was another level of attractiveness.

Your hips slowly rocked against Shuntaro's hips, "Kiss me", you ordered through gritted teeth.

“How do you say?”, teased Chishiya, grinning.

“Now, you fucking piece of shit.”

Chishiya laughed and just accepted, how could he say no to that cutie? He let go of your neck, he had choked you enough (for now), the action made you whimper softly, "How cute."

“Shut up, Chishiya", you ordered angrily.

“Make me”, he teased once again.

“I still will punch you until you pass out…”

The older one laughed and the kiss resumed. Chishiya's hand was still on your neck, without squeezing, just caressing the skin with his thumb, it went down your chest, squeezing your breasts.

"Cute", Chishiya said when you moaned as your nipples were pinched over your shirt.

"Fuck you."

"You should be ashamed of yourself for rubbing that pussy on my lap and acting like you're better than me."

"Ah… but I am…"

The blonde smirked, "Fucking bitch."

Your shirt was taken off and Chishiya started sucking your nipples gently, not doing too much, not doing everything you wanted. He was doing it on purpose, he wanted to piss you off and he was succeeding. You wanted more, you wanted to be pinched and squeezed, but nothing came, making you groan.

“I hate you so much", you complained.

“Why?”, Chishiya was a bastard.

“I have little patience.”

The older one chuckled, "Then feel free to take control, baby girl."

You rolled your eyes and pushed him onto the bed. You leaned over to the night stand and picked up a joint and lighter from the top of it, putting the blunt in your mouth.

"Are you really going to smoke? Marijuana? With me here under you?", complained Chishiya pretending to be angry, "I'm going to call the police."

"Don't you ever shut up?", you asked, lighting your cigarette.

Chishiya laughed, he was enjoying making you angry, it was so funny. The fun ended when you sat on the other's legs and started to smoke, it wasn't fun anymore it was just hot.

"Do you want some?", you asked, showing the joint in your hands, noticing that he was very entertained watching you smoke.

Chishiya nodded, you took the joint to your lips again and smoked it taking your hand to his chin, he parted his lips waiting for what you would do. You blew the smoke to the blonde's lips and kissed him, brushing your tongue gently against his.

If it was up to Shuntaro, they would do that for hours. You repeated your act a few more times, smoking and sharing it with the older one with kisses.

"Fuck", cursed Chishiya softly making you laugh.

You returned the two objects to the bedside table and adjusted yourself, hugging Chishiya's neck, kissing him again, the kiss was less nervous now, but that didn't stop you from scratching the other's chest with your nails, being careful not to scratching at the cutted areas, making him moan softly as they kissed.

With a peck, you broke the kiss and pushed the blonde's body back onto the bed, running kisses down his chest, biting the skin from time to time, always being careful with the cuts, but always licking the bruises, because you loved to hear his adorable whimpers. With Chishiya's skin between your teeth, you proceeded to unfasten his belt, making him sigh in anticipation.

"I like you like this… quiet", you commented, licking where you had bitten, eliciting a low whine from him, "It suits you, Shuntaro."

"Fuck…", was the only thing he managed to say when your hand tightened on his cock over his pants.

"How cute", you smiled, "Is your cock so hard because of your enemy, Chishiya?", you laughed at the snort the older one let out, squeezing his still covered cock, "How do you explain that to your friends?"

"Go fuck yourself."

You adjusted yourself over Chishiya's body and took off his jeans, leaving him only in black underwear. Your beautiful lips wrapped around the man's cock over the cloth and licked, eliciting a breathless groan from him.

"Fucking shit", Chishiya cursed, throwing his head back, shuddering when the hot mouth wrapped around the head of his cock covered by the cloth, "Baby girl… don't do that…", he asked softly, looking down at you who was staring at him from under you lashes. Chishiya had dark eyes, the unreadable expression and the bruises on his face, it was all so sensual. Your tongue flattened against his cock, saliva marked the cloth leaving it glistening against the light, pre-cum also marked the tip, "Shit. You have to… you have…", he couldn't talk with you licking him like that, you could feel his blood boil as you felt the pulse against your tongue, so hard and fast.

"If I give you a proper blowjob, will you shut the fuck up?", you asked with an expression of boredom.

"I do not promise anything."

And Chishiya laughed when you rolled your eyes. You could complain, but you were too horny to be against what was going on, so you just removed Shuntaro's underwear and slid your hands down his thighs, his hard cock pulsing gently against his beautiful abdomen. You lay back down, taking his cock in your hands, making him sigh.

You licked the length of the thick cock and moaned softly feeling the pulse directly against your tongue. Chishiya purred and laid his head on the pillows, bringing his hand to your hair, stroking and squeezing the strands tightly as his cock sank completely into your mouth.

Your head began to slowly rise and fall, the rhythm gradually increasing as the other's moans became more desperate.

"Fuck, kitten", moaned Chishiya, he called you that to annoy you, but now it was exciting and you hated it.

One of his hands was in your hair, tightening the strands in his fists, and the other held his cock, helping you to swallow it.

The moan that came out of Chishiya's lips made your eyes roll back in pure pleasure. You moved your head up and down, he could feel saliva sliding down his cock to his thighs. He moaned louder as your delicate hands caressed his balls.

"Shit", growled Chishiya softly, stopping your movements, panting heavily, "Lie down on the bed now… go, come on", he ordered impatiently.

You did as asked, laying down on the bed. Chishiya got on top of you and lay down between your legs, "I should just fuck your pussy and leave, but I can't resist a pretty little pussy like that, all wet and just for me."

And Chishiya began to undress you quickly and began to suck you off, making you moan loudly, making you squirm. The fucker knew what he was doing, he seemed to know how your body worked, he licked just the right place and made the biggest mess, his mouth completely covered with your pleasure.

"Shut the fuck up", Chishiya swore, "The whole building will know you're being eaten."

"Shhh", you silenced, grabbing his long blonde hair and forcing him to go back to licking you, "use your mouth for something worthwhile."

Chishiya laughed, "Slut", his strong hand covered your mouth with ease, "I should gag you, but look how beautiful you look with my hand like that…", his other free hand went to your neck and caressed it gently, fingers enveloped in skin, "So pretty at my mercy, you should think about being like this more often."

"Shut the fuck up", you commanded in a voice muffled by the big hand on your mouth.

Chishiya laughed, taking his hand away from your mouth, "Unbearable bitch", he whispered.

The blonde tightened your neck and went back to eating you out, he thought it would be better to choke you than cover your mouth for now, it made your moans more sly and he liked that.

“Chishiya", you whimpered, rolling your hips, not really wanting to sound that desperate.

And that drew a wry chuckle from him, "Moaning like that? Because of the enemy, princess? What are you going to tell your friends?"

“Shh”, you hushed again, your hands going to the blonde hair and you forced it down once more.

Chishiya laughed and accepted, he ran his tongue up and down the wet pussy, sucking the clit and sank his skillful fingers inside you, loosening you. You moaned softly, your fingers caressed his hair gently, it wasn't your intention, but it felt so good that you thought Shuntaro deserved a reward. The older man's hand didn't stop its back and forth movements, opening you for him.

Chishiya pulled away, brought his thumb to your clit and stroked in circular motions, “I need to fuck you.”

"Please."

It was the first time that had been said that night and it was said so delicately.

Wasting no time, Chishiya grabbed you around the waist and flipped you over on the bed, lifting your hips, leaving you completely exposed for his own benefit.

"What a nice little pussy", said the blonde, observing your wet pussy, spreading your lips with his fingers, "It's already all loose."

“Don't you shut up-”, your sentence was cut off when he spanked your ass.

“What were you going to say, kitten?”, asked the older one ironically, giving you another slap.

You whimpered, “Just fuck me, Shuntaro.”

“Of course, all for you, my sweetie.”

“If I wasn't so horny, I swear I would-”, and a long moan left your lips as Chishiya thrust his cock inside you hard, without giving you time to adjust.

"You swear what, baby?", he asked, his face leaning over your.

"I swear I'd kill you right now, Shuntaro", you stated clutching the sheets as your pussy was fucked mercilessly.

"I think it's funny that you think you could kill me", Chishiya whispered, biting your earlobe.

Chishiya held your waist, thrusting hard, but the pace was still too slow for your liking, "Faster, you motherfucker."

"Of course…"

And he obeyed such a crude request, starting to speed up his movements. Your moans started to get louder and louder, you were too lost in your own pleasure to control yourself.

It wasn't so loud that it would disturb the neighbors in the apartments next door, but Chishiya still chuckled softly and put his hand over your mouth.

"You'll wake up the whole building like that", he warned softly, continuing to thrust.

You just whimpered and grabbed the sheets as you were harshly fucked. Chishiya's hand gripped your hip tightly, squeezing the skin in his fingers, you were sure it would get purple.

"You're so hot", growled the man softly, his lips close to your ear, you shivered with those words, "I think that me talking doesn't bother you anymore, huh?", his hand on your waist slid down your skin down to your ass and squeezed the flesh.

"I'm still going to destroy your entire gang and take care of the entire city by myself", you stated.

"Do you think you can do it, baby girl?"

"I already do that, only you pretend to do something and get in my way."

He straightened his posture and took both of your hands, bringing them behind your back, squeezing your wrists into one hand to keep them there. His free hand went back to squeezing your ass and began to slap the skin.

Neither of them had any sense of time anymore, at that moment, they only knew that they were very close to an orgasm and that they hated each other so fucking much.

“Chishiya”, you purred, “I'm going to cum…”

“Me too", Chishiya stated.

“I- AH!”, you were going to say something, however Chishiya's hand that remained resting on your ass, which was already hot and red with the countless spankings, went down to your pussy and started to masturbate you quickly.

You twisted your arms trying to free yourself, but the blonde man was much stronger than you. It didn't take long for a ragged moan to leave your lips and you came on Chishiya's cock.

The older one chuckled softly and pulled out of you, letting go of your wrists. Shuntaro sat on his legs and jerked off briefly, his free hand gripping your ass, squeezing hard as he reached his climax watching his cum fall over the red skin. When he finally came, he lay down beside you and sighed softly.

“You're not going to sleep here”, you said, making the other open his eyes wide.

Chishiya groaned and got up, "I'm not going to sleep in this shitty place", he informed you as he sat down.

You laughed, "If you say so, I could have sworn I saw you dreaming, and dreaming of me still."

“God have mercy on you", he said as he searched for his clothes, “I'm still going to break both your legs.”

“Why don’t you break it now?”

“Because I got beat up and I just came”, the comment made you laugh putting your hand under your head to support it and be able to observe the other, “I'm not in full mental faculties.”

“If you say so", you said as the other dressed, “I guess I'll have to find a new place to live.”

"I would never attack you in your home, but if it makes you feel safe, it's not a bad idea."

“Do you think it would be viable for us to unite?”, you asked, sitting on the bed after a while of silence, Chishiya crossed his arms, “This third gang can't keep thinking we're accepting their presence.”

“If you're willing, I am too”, the blonde was sincere, “It's better to unite against a common enemy, but that's all it will be, after we get what we want, it's each one to one side, correct, kitten?”

“I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise, Shuntaro.”

“Do you have any plans in mind?”

“I have, I can tell it to you later. Could you give me your phone number?”, you asked.

The eldest smirked, “Are you in love now, kitten?”, you rolled your eyes, “Do you want to send nudes on my personal phone?”

"You don't give a minute of peace, how can you compete with me?", you questioned, rubbing your forehead, "It's so we can talk, fucking piece of shit."

"Oh, yes, of course."

You groaned and threw your phone at Chishiya for him to add his contact, and when he were done, he threw the phone back to you, "Fuck you from the bottom of my heart, Chishiya, see you in hell."

“I’ll wait for you there, princess.”

And with that said, Chishiya unlocked the door and left. Leaving you alone and naked in your bed.

...

i hope you liked it!

please live a like and a comment!

tags: @just-trashs @alisujelly

if you have any requests, make sure to talk to me

see ya next time.

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♡masterlist♡

[jae-bummer]

A Perfect Disaster

Request: I'm heeere, lol Can I request 'Your bias confesses through text message while sitting next to you.' for Han (skz)?? It seems like something he'd totally do lol. Take your time, no rush or pressure, write it however/whenever/if you want :) <3

Prompt:

14) Your bias confesses through text message while sitting next to you.

Pairing: Stray Kids Han x Reader

Genre: Fluff

.

"Tonight's the night, fellas!" Han whispered to himself. Looking into the mirror, he started hopping around and shaking out his arms. "Tonight...everything is going to change."

"What's tonight?" Changbin asked.

Gasping, Han spun around and clutched at his chest. "Yah! Can't a man get a little privacy?!"

"The door was open," Changbin shrugged. He was carrying a bag of snacks and immediately popped what appeared to be a piece of popcorn into his mouth. In between bites, he asked again. "What's tonight though?"

Heaving a sigh, Han flopped backward onto his bed. "Don't say anything, but I'm going to confess to Y/N."

"You're going to confess to Y/N?!" Changbin shouted, his voice echoing down the hall. Han immediately cringed as he signaled with his hands for his member to tone it down.

"Who's confessing to Y/N?" a sleepy voice muttered behind Changbin. A few seconds later, a half awake Hyunjin stood wrapped in a blanket and reached into Changbin's snacks.

"Hannie!" Changbin grinned.

Scoffing, Han slumped on the bed again. "Tell him not to say anything and he shouts it to half of the building."

"Don't put your unrealistic expectations on me," Changbin chuckled. "Plus you should be excited! This is an exciting thing!"

"Maybe for you guys," Han grumbled. "I feel like I'm going to vomit."

"How are you going to do it?" Hyunjin asked. Entering the room, he crawled into bed beside Han and nestled in. "Is it going to be some kind of big romantic gesture?"

"No plan," Han hummed, shaking his head. "Just vibes."

"What the hell does that mean?" Hyunjin asked, furrowing his brows.

"It means there's at least an 80% chance that he's going to abort mission," Changbin smirked.

Hyunjin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Hannie, I say this in the most loving way possible. Y/N is not going to wait for you forever."

"Wait for me?" Han asked, looking back and forth between his members. "What do you mean "wait for me"?"

"He means, Y/N has obviously had a crush on you for a while," Changbin said slowly.

"And you have been subconsciously denying it for about just as long," Hyunjin finished.

"You're telling me..." Han whispered. "I have a chance?"

Both of his members groaned as they looked away from him. "That is all you've gotten from this conversation!" Changbin yelled, slamming down his snacks.

"Should I have gotten more than that?" Han winced. "Because right now, it sounds like the most important part."

"Yes, dummy," Hyunjin muttered, slapping him on the arm. "You have a chance."

.

You adjusted your outfit as you stood at the door to the 3Racha (and Hyunjin) dorm. Han had already responded to your buzzer and knew you were in the building, so why was it so hard to actually knock?

The members of Stray Kids were your friends, you reasoned with yourself. There was no need to ever feel nervous or uncomfortable around them (in theory). Admittedly, you has partly blamed yourself for the recent shift in mood whenever you hung out together. It was becoming increasingly apparent that there was some sort of tension between you and Han. You knew other members saw it, but you weren't so sure that Han had ever realized it himself.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded, and lifted your closed fist again. Just as your fingers hovered before the door, it sprung open. Nearly punching Han in the face, you jumped back in surprise. Staring wide eyed at each other, you let out a small squeak.

"I was just about to come looking for you," Han said quickly. "It was taking you awhile and I got worried because you've been here like...a lot, so you shouldn't have been lost."

"Right," you whispered. You felt the heat of embarrassment begin to crawl up your neck. "I was...uh..."

Han lifted his brows, waiting.

"I'm really tired today," you nodded. Wracking your brain to come up with an appropriate fib was proving more difficult by the second. "So, I took it extra slow coming up the stairs."

"I thought I heard the elevator beep?" Han asked, looking confused toward the opposite end of the hall. "Is it out of service? Because that was like five minutes ago-"

"Totally out of service," you agreed.

To your horror, you heard the elevator ding behind you and the doors begin to slide open. Closing your eyes, you listened as heavy foot falls came toward you.

"Hyung?" Han said. The footsteps halted and you finally turned to see who it was.

"Hey Channie," you cringed.

"Don't look so happy to see me, Y/N!" Chan grinned, smacking you on the back. "Why are we standing awkwardly in the hallway?"

"Did they already fix the elevator?" Han asked, furrowing his brows.

"Fix the-" Chan said, shaking his head. "What do you-"

"Chan has an excellent point," you said quickly, taking each boy by the bicep. "Let's go inside."

Pushing the two in front of you, you allowed yourself to take a few deep breaths while they couldn't see.

"What are you two up to tonight?" Chan asked, popping off his sneakers.

Thankful for his change of subject, you followed by removing your own shoes.

"I was going to order some dinner in," Han said carefully, trying to make eye contact with the older member. "Maybe watch a movie."

"Sounds fun!" Chan nodded, still completely oblivious to Han's odd tone. "What are we getting? I've been really craving-"

"Chan!" Hyunjin gasped as he appeared from around the corner. Changbin wasn't far behind. "Changbin and I ordered chicken, do you want some?"

Chan looked confused as he looked to Hyunjin and back to Han. "But-"

"We really want you to come sit with us," Changbin said through barred teeth. He shot Chan with a knowing look before motioning in your direction with his eyes.

"You guys are being really weird right now," you said quietly. Of course, they were weird most of the time, but this was a new level.

"Yeah, just bring the chicken out here," Chan nodded. "I'm going to go wash up."

Leaning his head back in defeat, Hyunjin muttered something quietly to Changbin who shrugged in response.

"I guess we're having chicken," Han cringed.

..

Sat happily between Hyunjin and Han, you munched on your food. The conversation was relatively quiet for once, which should make sense considering everyone had food in their mouth. The unnerving part was that having food in their mouth had never stopped them from yelling at each other (disguised as conversation) before.

In your periphery, you could see Hyunjin lean backwards. After a moment, Han did the same. Looking curiously back and forth between the two, you attempted to focus on what they were saying. Whisper shouting too quickly for you to understand, both boys sprang forward before you could catch anything significant.

Glancing to Han, he smiled awkwardly back at you. He tugged out his phone and began typing furiously.

"So Y/N," Hyunjin said, catching your attention. "How have you been?"

"Fine?" you stated, narrowing your eyes at him. "What have you guys been up to lately?"

"Nothing much," Hyunjin nodded. He bit into his chicken before looking away.

"Can someone please tell me what is going on right now?" you whined. "Why is everyone walking around on eggshells?"

"Did someone break something?" Chan asked, looking up from his food. For once, he seemed completely ignorant to whatever shenanigans the other three had going on. "I told you guys, it's best to be upfront when you-"

"No one broke anything!" Changbin gasped. "Actually, I don't think anything is weird at all. Hyunjin, do you think anything is weird?"

"No, Changbin. Why would anything be weird?" Hyunjin hummed.

"Oh yeah, definitely throwing us off," Chan chuckled. "Perfectly normal behavior."

"Seriously," Changbin whined. Your phone began to vibrate as he continued to speak, but as you saw the name pop up on your screen, any attempt at paying attention was lost.

I'm sorry that things are awkward. You know that no one in this house knows how to be normal when there's a secret. The secret? I've planned all day to confess to you.

You breathed in sharply, covering your mouth with your hand. The white noise of chatter suddenly went silent around you.

I know that this could make our friendship weird and ruin everything...but I can't sit and daydream about what we could be for another moment. I don't want them to just be daydreams anymore, I want them to be real.

Slowly turning to Han, you couldn't help but smile at the shade of red his face has turned.

"Jisung?"

"He confessed in a text message, didn't he?" Hyunjin groaned.

"Would you mind giving us a moment?" Han snapped, pointedly looking at each member in turn.

"What is going on?" Chan asked, furrowing his brows.

"Come on," Hyunjin sighed, pulling Changbin to his feet. "We'll fill you in."

After they had left the room, Han intensely avoided eye contact. Gnawing on his lip, he looked pretty much everywhere that didn't put you in his line of sight.

"Hannie," you whispered. It was difficult to gauge how he was feeling when all of your own emotions were slamming into each other at once. Your brain had gone fuzzy around the edges and your heart may soar up and out of your throat at any moment. You had never felt dizzy, happy, and relieved all at the same time before.

Han slowly turned to face you. "I wanted to do something nicer..."

"Nicer?" you laughed. "Han, you just confessed to me!"

"Over text while my friends chewed on chicken bones!" he whined. "I had this whole plan to make it cute and special, but-"

"But now I have a text message that I can look back on as many times as I'd like and remember how you made me feel in this moment."

"I-well, what?" he stumbled, the frustration immediately falling from his face. "How I made you feel?"

"Mhm," you nodded. "I felt important, Hannie. Important enough for you to actually tell me how you felt. We had been dancing around...whatever this is between us for a while. It's such a relief to hear that you feel the same."

Gathering up his courage, Han reached over, and intertwined your fingers in his. After a moment of staring at your hands, a grin slowly made its way across his mouth. Finally looking into your eyes, he lifted your hands and placed a soft kiss to your wrist. You felt a flutter in your stomach as he maintained eye contact through the entire action. Setting it back down on his knee, he let out a slow exhale. "It wasn't a disaster then?"

"Oh, everything connected to you four is a disaster," you chuckled. "But it was the most perfect disaster I have ever been part of."