#suicidal tendencies as a feature. makes things spicy

[task800]

not to autism/sickbrain project on main or whatever but i think connor should walk around in a semi-dissociated state, completely out of tune with his emotions, and have intermittent sensory overload episodes where the combination of internal and external input sends him into a self-destructive shutdown spiral where he just wants to rip his skin off because existing fucking sucks. as a treat

[staygolddindjarin]

Grief

Chapter One: History

Din Djarin x Reader x a bunch of other star wars characters

Series Summary: Raised on Mandalore, born into a bloodline of warriors, no one ever expected for the daughter of a Clan leader to go rogue. Leaving the life of security and making the journey to fight in the war against the empire meant many things... giving up the way of the Mandalore, and giving up a solid future. A future that involves an arranged marriage to a foundling from another clan.

Chapter Warnings: Oof this ones kinda angsty right off the bat- ⚠️ attempted suicide?? Kinda?? Age gap (reader is underage, but don't worry it's just for the sake of backstory and also there's no spicy, so...) mentions of death and afterlife, fluff if you like squint really hard

A/n: hello there... I'm sorry to inflict tumblr with this atrocity, but wattpad had to deal with it so tumblr can too. I wrote a different version of this on my wp with an OC name, but I know that not everyone cares for that so this won't include that. Also this series will be such a slow burn... prepare yourself ahead of time because it's going to be agonizing

Words: 6.3k+

SERIES MASTERLIST UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Part 1/?

"Pehea gar mar'eyir ni...."

How did you find me....

He came and sat beside me, the sound of metal scraping agaisnt the ground when he knelt first.

"Gar cuyir te shi solus tion'ad comes olar jii.  Ni kar'taylir gar jate'shya gar mirdir Ni vaabir," He responded.

You are the only one who comes here now. I know you better than you think I do.

I heaved a deep breath before letting it out in an exhausted sigh. Speaking in my native tongue was something I always appreciated, but now sitting here it felt nearly uncomfortable, but there was a reason for that.

"I wanted to be alone," The words from my mouth were no longer in my language, and he shifted beside me, trying to convey his confusion without a word.

"Care to elaborate?" He suggested, his asking tone was harsh... but then so was everything else about him.

I didn't really feel like explaning my feelings at the moment. I didn't want to focus on the very thing he was asking about. Even though he wasn't absolutely sure of what he was asking.

"You wouldn't understand if I told you," I trailed off.

"Try me." His voice wasn't any softer, but the sincerity he rarely showed had seeped into his tone.

"I really don't think it's a good idea. You really won't understand, and for all I know you could make things worse off for me than they already are," I didn't like it when he let his guard down around me. I didn't like getting closer to him, even though I was supposed to.

"I can't force you. Whatever it is, I wouldn't get myself too worked up," He sounded hurt, but I couldn't bring myself to believe it was by my words. He was too strong to be wounded by such trivial things.

He moved in his seat, beginning to stand, and for some reason the thought of being alone like I had originally intended seemed like a horrible idea.

I reached out to grip his arm. I kept my gaze forward, knowing that even if I looked at him I could not see his eyes.

"Stay."

He didn't hesitate. He sat down again, and I no longer felt guilt for the hurt in his voice a moment prior.

We sat for a moment in silence, just looking over the cliffside, into the deep canyons that wove in between settlements and encampments of our tribes and clans.

"I don't want this life," I whispered. I had only half hoped he would be paying enough attention to hear me. My voice was soft enough that he might not have.

"What do you mean?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, regretting the choice to even say what I did. I felt a shiver go down my arms, and I felt the wind come into the old open cavern, making the air around me chill. My arms were exposed, for I didn't expect the cold tonight. I didn't expect to be here this long.

"I'll turn sixteen in four days. I will either take the creed, or deny everything I've ever been taught. I'd leave if I do that," I finally gave a glance in his direction. He looked back at me, or at least the beskar did. I could never tell where his eyes were.

"You want to leave?" That pained tone of his voice had returned. The one I felt guilty for without actually believing I had done anything to cause it.

I did. I wanted to get off this planet. Away from the responsibility of becoming what everyone expected of me.

"I have to. It's the only way I will ever be at peace, but I'm not sure if I truly have the strength to stand in front of my family and deny the creed."

I could run away. I had some friends who were planning to jump a transport and join the rebellion against the empire.

They had offered me to be apart of this, but I had refused, believing that I would follow in my ancestors footsteps and take the creed. My father had already provided the beskar for my helmet to be made. It was already in the armourer's possession. All that was left was for me to come of age.

"Where did you go, just now?" He noticed my lack of attentiveness to my current reality, and brought me back to where I was. On the drafty cliffside, with my legs hanging over the end.

"Nowhere. I was just thinking about the future," I had admitted. Though I felt the need to stay emotionally distant from him, and not let myself develop a closeness, I knew I could trust him with my life, which is why I even revealed these things to him in the first place.

"What do you think your future will look like?" The tone that brought me guilt had again left his voice, but was replaced by something else... was it fear? I could not even think of theorizing that he could ever be scared. He was one of the bravest in his clan. Never had he shown an ounce of fear to anyone or anything. How stupid of me to even wonder.

"Merc and his crew are gonna stow away on a crate transport tomorrow. He has contact with the rebellion. He said that I could go with them if I was up for it," I looked down, almost embarrassed at admitting a plan of escape to someone so loyal to this place. Even though he wasn't born on this planet, and even though he wasn't a blood member of any tribe, the foundling was more of a mandalorian than I could ever be.

"You've agreed?"

"No. Not yet," I shook my head. I didn't feel like my reasons were valid. Having him sit beside me, and ask me these things made me realize that I needed to explain myself further.

"Din, I want to be free. I don't want to spend the rest of my life under a code that is so restricting to me, binding my every decision. Everything I'd do would have to be following after the creed."

He didn't respond, and even though his features were shrouded under the reflective surface of his beskar, I could tell he was thinking of something.

"I'm not yet sixteen, but when I am... I don't want to be locked down under a piece of metal. I don't want to have to be bound to this planet or a clan. I want to go some place far away and be something that is different than what everyone expects of me. I want to fight battles against the empire, I want to make my own rules. I want to be free to marry who I love, and not be betrothed to whoever my father chooses for me," I finished off my speech about freedom, but realized the last sentence too late. I should have chosen a better set of words.

Din's head hung down, looking at the wrist guards he wore. He shook his head back and forth and before I could interject, he began speaking.

"So that's why...." he trailed off. I was honestly too scared to say anything now. Why must I speak so bluntly and hurtfully honest to people? Perhaps it is because I had never gotten close to him that now I had no fear in what I said to his face.

"If the reason you plan to leave your family is because of me, then-"

"No," I said harshly, catching him off guard. I was usually snippy with others, but I had never before shown a tendency to be angry or intense with my speech. "Believe me, this has nothing to do with you."

"You have always shown enthusiasm towards coming of age. It's only now, when we are arranged, that you show any difference," He brought on certainty in his voice that I nearly couldn't deny, but the truth was... it really wasn't about him. "I can converse with your father, the rest of the clan... I will find a way to break it off if it will make you stay."

"Din, I don't want you to do that. If you don't believe me when I tell you that you are not the cause of this, then so be it, but I will not have you ruining your good name in my favor, when it won't even stop me," The heat of the moment provided actual, physical warmth for me in the time I was running my mouth off, but now that I had finished, and begun to calm down, I felt the freezing air on my arms again, wrapping them around myself and drawing my legs closer to generate more body heat.

"Are you cold?" He changed the subject, needing something- anything else to say.

"Its not exactly warm up here," My voice was low and sarcastic, but at hearing my words, Din stood up and stepped behind me. Before I even had a chance to ask him what he was doing, I felt his thick woolen cape being draped around my shoulders.

I smiled softly, not even a real, full smile. More of just a small tug from the side of my lips. My real smile was saved for later.

"Thank you."

He nodded as he sat back down, letting his legs fall over the cliffside.

"So you're gonna leave with them, aren't you?" His head turned to face me, but I couldn't dare try and stare at the beskar while thinking of what I would do. This choice was the beginning of the rest of my life.

"I think so," I didn't think. Thinking was what I had been doing too much of. Now I was certain. This was my choice. I was going to start new, and become something different. I may have been born on mandalore, but I was definitely not a mandalorian.

I had a rush of confidence come through me until I remembered what this meant. It all hit me like a dropship coming out of hyperspace. What was I thinking?

"No," I whispered. Din didn't understand my sudden discouragement, but he would soon.

"Merc and his friends already denied the creed. He's a foundling. They all are," I started to tear up as I realized what would happen to my family. The loss of a child in a clan is bad enough, but my family hadn't done anything to dessrve this. They were caring. They had shown me love. They had given me the best life I could ask for on a planet with such a religion.

"Second thoughts?" He asked genuinely, scooting closer beside me as to maybe get more information from my body language, or even my breathing.

"I can't do this. My family would be ruined. If I ran away, they would be punished for it," I felt tears coming up in my eyes. My clan was good to me. The people were kind, and I found solace there. Even if I had always dreamt about something bigger, I couldn't bear to let ruin come upon my family name. It wasn't fair to let that happen, especially when the only thing in the way was my own selfishness. "I can't leave my family."

I let the tears stream down my face, not even bothering to wipe them away. The contrast of the cold wind on my hot, tear streaked face had helped to calm me down a little.

"If you plan on staying, you understand that I am apart of your future here, don't you?"

"Din, I already told you before... you are not the reason I want to leave," I tried my best to keep myself together, but with my wet cheeks and red, puffy eyes, I didn't see how that could be an option.

What if there was another way to freedom?

I sat, trying to think of some stories that the other clan members would talk about.

"Din?"

He hummed in response, keeping his gaze on me.

"Has anyone in your clan ever mentioned afterlife?" I maybe should have taken a different approach to this. He seemed to be rendered speechless by my topic of conversation, but I had to ask.

"You mean after death?" He asked me and I nodded.

"I've heard some stories."

I thought about how it had been described to me. A paradise, with never-ending happiness, and unlimted freedom. Freedom.

"After you die, you appear in the world as another life. You can do whatever you want and no one has consequences for any of it. It's like a world without chaos. Everything is perfect," I remember every word as it comes out of my mouth. The words that were spoken to me, more like taught to me when I was a bit younger by the elders who had retired from their days of battle.

"It sounds too easy." He said, ripping me out of my fantasy.

"That's the point. You don't have to worry about anything or anyone, because you can do as you please, and everything will still be the same. All you have to do is die...."

"Like being reborn into a different world."

"Exactly."

I hesitated to take my safety blaster from it's holster under my hip, and when I did, I looked at it before pointing it out in the distance and testing the trigger. It shot a blast of lazer energy out into the air, landing somewhere beneath us in the canyon.

I decided that this was not an act to pursue at the moment, for Din was sitting right beside me, and the sight of watching a young girl pull the trigger against her own head might be an unpleasant one. Even for him, though he has seen worse.

I put the blaster back in it's holster and stand up from the rocky ground. Din follows suit, looking down at me with quiet concern. I wouldn't have known it until now, but I wondered if he had come to care for me at all during these last few weeks we had been betrothed.

I'd known him the majority of my life anyways, so I knew he must have felt some sort of attachment to me, but in what form, I hadn't ever cared to ask.

He kept breathing heavily as he looked down at me for a few moments, and it almost sounded like he wanted to ask me something. The question was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to utter the words.

"Here's your cape back," I slid the material off my shoulders, trying to hand it back to him, but he pushed it back towards me.

"You should keep it for now. The sun is nearly down, it will only grow colder."

He reached his gloved hand up to my face, and I could swear I felt the warmth of his hand beneath the coarse leather.

I only nodded, and leaned forward, trying to lean my head into him, but he carefully stopped me, his hands on my shoulders. Instead he rested his helmet against my forhead, and the cold beskar wasn't such a bad feeling as it rested there.

"I won't let you down. I promise." He said, clueless of my plans for later tonight, after the tribes were asleep, and no one would be at the cliffside.

"I know you won't. You're a good man, Din Djarin." I paused, trying to gather better words. "A true Mandalorian if there ever was one."

The moment didn't last any longer because of how frigid the air was becoming. It was warmer back with the tribes, they always had a fire burning.

Without another word, we both left the old artillery cavern and hiked down the side of the canyon to get back to our own clan territory.

Once I was at the edge of mine, I turned around to utter a simple goodbye, and found that he was very close behind me. His hand came up and rested on my shoulder, lightly squeezing it.

Maybe this was the last time we would see each other. Tonight I would envoke my plan to freedom, to rebirth. Perhaps we would meet in another life. Perhaps I would have just enough memory of this life to try and find him in the next one. One where I will have freedom.

Tonight I had gotten closer to the metal clad Mandalorian than I ever had before. I didn't regret it. He listened to what I had to say, and there were few who ever did.

His hand fell from it's place on my shoulder, but I didn't let him walk away yet. I pulled him into an embrace, feeling him tense up for a moment before reciprocating. It took him a few seconds to let out the breath he was holding in, but when he did, he found himself relaxing into the comfort.

"Goodbye, Din," My voice wasn't sad, or overly sensitive in any way. I figured it actually sounded quite optimistic.

"You know I'll see you tomorrow." He said, reminding me of the clan meetings. Once a month the clans would gather and each tribe would go over the agenda for whatever was to happen soon. Battles were normally discussed, but tomorrow, me and a few of the others in the other clans would be talked about. Our ceremonial coming of age where we would take the creed.

"Yeah... right. Don't come looking for me, I don't plan on showing up," I said quietly, careful in anyone was to hear me.

He pulled me back at arms length and looked at me, but his black blast shield hid his features and I could not tell if he thought I was crazy or not.

"How come?" His voice was also quiet, as we noticed some of my clan passing by to get to the fire.

"Don't worry about it. You'll still see me tomorrow," I lied. Or did I? Everyone within the five neighboring tribes would probably see me tomorrow.

He nodded, pulling us all the way apart and stepping back.

"Good."

He didn't look like he was gonna walk away until I had gone into the hub of my clan's small village. I turned around and walked towards the large fire, seeing my mother. Her helmet was unmistakable. The pattern of the strill engraved into the side of the beskar. It was her signet. A worthy kill of her days in battle. I would never have one. I walked towards her when she noticed me.

Her modulated voice let out a small chuckle, before I stepped beside her.

"It is well to see you spending time with Din Djarin. Me and your father were afraid you may not have been fond of him," She kept her gaze on the fire, speaking only loud enough for me to hear her, given that the other mandalorians of our village were also gathering around the fire, conversing with each other the same way we were.

"I am fond of him, why would I not be?" I was unsure of what she meant. Sure, I had been keeping a distance between us since my father had arranged our marriage, but I never had shown that I wasn't fond of him. I was polite, and gave him attention when it was asked of me.

"Whenever I or your father bring up the discussion of your eighteenth birthday, you always seem to act like it's the plague," She was smirking under her helmet, and I could tell. I could always tell what face she made underneath her metal covering.

"Maybe it's the fact that I dread getting married at all. I'm not opposed to Din, though," I convinced her. I wouldn't have to try and do that again after tonight.

"Whatever it is, your father will be pleased to know you and him were in each other's company. Although I will stray from telling him you two were alone... you were alone, weren't you?" She turned her metal covered head, trying to figure out from the look on my face.

"Yes," I answered truthfully, knowing there was no point in lying. No damage could be done at this point, except for maybe towards Din.

"And what were you both doing?" She tilted her head, and I let mine drop. I would tell her the truth, because nothing bad could come from it. Or could it.

"We were just talking... about the future," I answered.

"Your marriage..." She suggested, and I nodded, knowing that it did come up in the conversation.

"Yes."

"I shudder to ask if consummating was apart of this conversation," She looked back at the fire, knowing how red my cheeks would turn and how embarrassed I would be.

"No, nothing like that. I can promise you," I shivered at the thought. Din was a good man, but I didn't necessarily need to be letting thoughts like that intrude my mind.

Everyone else around the fire seemed to be distracted by the glowing flames, and my mother was soon the same, so I suggested my absense.

"I'm going to go in for the night, get some rest. Big meeting tomorrow..." I said before reaching out and squeezing her hand tightly.

She nodded to me, and I took my leave, walking towards our living quarters on the opposite side of camp.

I wasn't looking where I was going, and brushed my shoulder against Merc, who was with Gander and Shyloh.

"Sorry, didn't see you coming," I told him, but he shook his head, optiing ti ask me a question instead.

"Don't worry about it, I was looking for you anyway... Did you think about the offer? We leave at sunrise on the north delivery tarmac," He informed me, but I didn't have an answer. I wasn't staying here, but I wasn't leaving either.

"You'll know if I show up," I gave him a smirk, partially just because I was glad to see someone's actual face tonight, and not just a metal facade.

"We can't wait up for you, just know that."

I nodded, letting them get by. Maybe I could go with them. Live this life freely without starting another one.

No.

My family will not be able to handle that. It's better off if I'm dead. At least they won't go on to believe that I betrayed them, turning my back on all loyalty they had ever taught me. They would nevwr wonder if I ever loved them or planned on keeping their wishes.

I could start fresh. They wouldn't have to worry about me anymore. And I wouldn't have to worry anymore either. Rebirth.

I went straight to bed, clutching the woolen blanket beside me close to my chest.

For some reason I felt a pang of guilt in my chest. Something that made the sting of salty tears swell in my eyes. I knew that what I was doing was best, but yet I started having a hard time justifying something so drastic. They would get on fine without me, wouldn't they? They would go on living by the creed. This is the way. They will find a way to go on without me, like they did before I was born. Din will be arranged with another girl as soon as I'm gone. Everything will be alright.

The wetness that spilled over my eyes and down my face lasted hours, even though my mind kept telling itself that it was at peace.

It was in the dead of night, when I gathered a few of my belongings into a knapsack, throwing it over my shoulder before leaving out the tattered window of my private space.

I ventured to the canyon, with the moons lighting my way. The planet was never truly dark, due to the brightness and the number of shinning moons, all the color silver.

I set my knapsack down on the edge beside me. By the end of this, I would be at the bottom, waiting to be found the next day. I just hoped it wouldn't be anyone I knew. Of course, the number of people who ever came out here was only two. Me, and Din Djarin.

I hoped he wouldn't find me. I hoped it would be someone from another tribe that was flying over, and happened to spot something at the base of the cliffside.

I pulled my flask to my mouth, taking a large drink. A bit spilled onto my chin, and I wiped it off, feeling the breeze on my face. It was much colder now than earlier tonight. I wasn't sure if I should pull the blanket from my belongings and wrap it around myself, or skip the process of making myself comfortable and just get this over with.

I leaned over, looking straight at the ground, hundreds of feet below me. My heart started racing, and I got scared. Why shouldn't I be? I have every right to be absolutely terrified. I closed my eyes, trying to scoot myself over the edge inch by inch, seeing if I would just drop.

I nearly panicked when my bottom hit a crack in the ground and I thought I was going over. My breath hitched in my throat and I instantly pulled myself back.

"This isn't as easy as I thought it would be," I murmered, beginning to feel the emotional side of everything rise to the surface again. It didn't help that with the absolute silence that circled around me, I couldn't have any single thing to distract me.

I stood to my feet, wrapping my arms around myself to ease the goosebumps rising on my skin from the frigid air.

I stood right on the edge, lifting a foot over and leaning forward, but before I could fall, I again caught myself, the adrenaline working overtime in my system and beginning to heat me up.

That wasn't going to work either. If I could, I would put a blaster to my temple and pull the trigger, but then it wouldn't look like an accident.

I paced around back and forth a few times, trying to calm myself down, to stop the whimpering and to make my tears cease. It wasn't working. I just needed to get this over and done with. A new life, with endless possibilities was waiting for me on the other side. Freedom was on the other side.

I wiped my face, even though it didn't stop me from crying, but it helped me to see clearer. I backed up, into the cavern, all the way inside until my back hit the wall of the ex artillery carvern. This was it. A new beginning. Rebirth. New life. Freedom.

I ran as fast as I could toward the edge, my eyes closed. I could feel the wind blowing against me even harder with my speed, and I could tell the edge was drawing near. Every step I took, I felt as though it was my last one.

I finally felt my foot hit the edge, but then I never fell. Instead, I was tackled to the ground. Whoever landed on top of me was heavy enough to hold me down, because half of me was hanging off the edge of the cliff.

I didn't dare even open my eyes. This was a sign. Someone stopped me.

I clinged onto whoever it was, and knew almost instantly who was laid over me when I heard him groan.

I cried even harder, my head buried in his armor clad chest, and my arms around his neck and his torso.

He was holding me tightly, one hand cradled my head into his neck, and the other firmly gripped my waist. He rolled us both over and I swear I felt him shaking.

"What were you thinking?" He stressed, his grip on me tightening as if he was scared to let go. I was scared too. I didn't want him to let go.

"You have to talk to me..."

I heaved a deep breath, deep enough to steady my voice so my whimpering didn't interfere with my words.

"I want out. I need to get out," I cracked in the middle of saying so few words, but they conveyed the message I was trying to get through.

"I can get you out, I promise.... But please don't ever try that again," His voice was full of worry, and as I suspected, he was trembling in fear.

"I'm sorry..." I cried some more, realizing that what I had done was now the biggest mistake I ever made, even if I was saved.

"It's okay. You're okay. I've got you," He spoke to me, my voice quieting down as my sobbing came to a slow halt.

I lifted my face from where I had burrowed it into his neck, looking up at him. I didn't know what his expression was, but something told me it was fearful, and worrysome.

"I have to get out of here," I repeated again. The last day or so it became my mantra, and would leave my lips often, even just to myself. Mostly just to myself.

"You're going to. You're going with Merc... when are they leaving?" He asked, his arms still around me like mine were for him.

"At sunrise. They're gonna jump a delivery ship on the north tarmac," I explained, my voice was now hoarse and thick, due to not only all the crying I had done, but also the cold night air that had entered my lungs.

"Sunrise isn't for a few hours..." he let me know, and I nodded, knowing we shouldn't probably leave yet, for the walk to the north tarmac wasn't very long from here.

"Din, if I leave, my family is going to get the fire for my decision. I can't let that happen," I told him, my voice had become more firm, and I needed to convey the importance of how much this meant to me.

"I give you my word, that as long as I live, nothing will happen to your family," He swore, and I could just feel his eyes staring into mine. So much so that for the first time since he put that helmet on, I knew where his eyes were.

"I trust you. And I know that you'll always keep your word," I nodded, a small smile finally forming on my face.

Since it got fairly quiet, and we were still entangled together,  I scooted off of Din and opted instead to take the seat beside him.

"I should tell you some things before I go. I just don't want to leave anything unresolved," I admitted, and he stayed silent, waiting for me to continue.

"I know this might sound horrible, but I hated the idea of getting too close to you. It was like if I had formed an emotional bond with you, I wouldn't be able to leave anymore. And the last thing on my mind had been to stay. I've wanted freedom for a while now, I was just always too scared to say anything. And when my father told me that you and him had come to an agreement for arranging a marriage.... it's like it all became more real to me. My freedom would be taken in just days. The creed of mandalore is sacred, and it's truly an amazing thing... but it isn't for everyone."

He sat and took everything in. All the words that just spewed from my mouth like I had been holding them in for ages went against everything I had ever learned. Everything that had ever been put into my mind was the opposite of what I wanted.

"You're young. You want more than what the creed can offer you. I think you'll be able to find what you want wherever you're going," He said, I knew there was more, for he didn't even mention anything that I had said about not wanting to be close to him, but when he stayed silent, I knew he was finished, and that I still had more to say.

"Din, I wanted to tell you that if I had to be married, I wouldn't have minded it being you," I admitted. I would leave no stone unturned before I was to just pick up and leave forever... maybe not forever, maybe someday I would return to my family, to Din.

"I can't say I don't feel the same," He seemed to become stiff next to me, but I soon found the reason when he suddenly reached for my hand with his gloved one.

I took it proudly, intertwining our finhers together.

"You know, I was only an eight year old kid when you took the creed. I have so many memories of you yourself, but whenever I recall them... I can't see your face. I've completely forgotten what you look like," I laughed a bit, though it was quite a sad thing actually. I could not remember him in a way that wasn't covered in metal. I remembered that he was a boy once, and that he would play with all the younger children in the clan set next to his. He played with me and the kids I lived next to. He was a lively, energetic boy. Always doing something... sometimes causing mischievous acts. He was so different now. But the change wasn't bad. Since he'd taken the creed he has been the most noble, fearsome, and trustworthy member of his clan. Completely honorable in every sense of the word.

"I don't look like I used to. It wouldn't do you any good to remember anyways," He chuckled under his helmet, and it brought a smile to hear the melodic sound.

"Well, if I'd stayed long enough to marry you I would find out for myself," I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling comfort by his presence. If I had made the absolute decision to leave this planet earlier, I could have let myself grow a relationship with him. Romantic or not, he was easy to talk to, and I trusted him. He was a friend to me, and I never imagined more, but now his presence was just something that put me at such ease.

"Do you think you'll ever come back?" He pondered, seeing as just the tiniest moonrays shown down into the canyon ahead.

"Someday. I'll comeback and repay you."

"For what?"

"Saving my life," I replied. My attempt to throw my own life away had been pushed away but I had to bring it up. I owed him my life.

"Anyone would have done the same if they had seen," He insisted, and I shook my head.

"How did you even know I was out here?" My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked for an explanation.

"I couldn't sleep, I took a walk through Ronion until I found myself here. I saw you across from the mesa on the south side... I saw you lift your foot over the edge, I knew what you were trying to do," He said, his grip on my hand got tighter almost instantly.

"Thank you. If you hadn't been there, I would be at the bottm of this canyon." I let so much seriousness onto my voice, and it didn't sound like me.

"Don't thank me yet... not until I get you on the tarmac,"

We sat in silence after that, just looking out over the horizon. When the slightest bit of light hit the edge of the planet, we stood to our feet, gathering my knapsack and begining the journey to the north delivery tarmac.

We were there in no time, and before I could even look for them, Merc and his crew were in sight. They were all sitting with their backs against some cargo imports, waiting for the transport to arrive.

"Well, well, well... look at what the shriek hawk dragged in," Shyloh said, gesturing to me and Din.

"Djarin, I didn't expect to see you here," Merc raised an eyebrow at the sight.

"I'm just here to make sure she gets onto the transport safely," He assured them. I looked out of the corner of my eye, and in the brighter horizon I was able to see a cargo ship coming into the landing area.

"Our rides here," I said, and they all jumped up. Since the ships were automatically run, and don't even require droids, it was often very easy to hop aboard and be carried to another destination. Of course, there were only a few who ever wanted to leave.

I myself hadn't ever left Mandalore, neither had I traveled much even on the planet. Only a few trips to visit the the markets with my father. I never even went into the city, for it was told that in the city lived Mandalorians who did not keep the creed. The tribes were convinced that they hadn't actually ever taken the oath, and just wore the armor for the sake of doing it.

The ship's doors opened, pulling me out of my thoughts, and a conveyer belt folded down to let the cargo units be carried out onto the tarmac for later pickup.

"Alright, it's time to head out," Gander said, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder and boarding the transport.

The rest followed after him, but I still had one thing left to do. 

Din looked at me, waiting for me to join the others, but I came close to him one last time.

"You promise my family will be taken care of?" I asked, to which he simply answered with a firm nod. However the look on my face gave him reason to believe that his answer wasn't good enough, so he spoke instead.

"I give you my word. If they are not taken care of, I will let you strike me dead where I stand."

That was good enough for me. He truly meant it. He was a man of his word.

I pulled his head toward mine, resting ny forehead against his in a traditional mandalorian kiss. I pulled back when I heard my name being called from the transport.

"Goodbye, Din Djarin," I told him.

He didn't respond, he just let me go, watching intently as I boarded the ship before the doors closed.

The cargo transports were always on schedule, so as soon as the doors closed, it began lifting into the air. I looked out through the transparent view finder on the side, watching him stand as we began moving out of sight.

"You gonna miss him?" Shyloh asked, his brows furrowing as if he were sorry for me.

"Yes, I suppose I will."

I lost sight of Din, and realized we were leaving the atmosphere most likely preparing for a jump to hyperspace.

"But I'll see him again."

.

.

Tags are open ig...

A/n: please don't get too caught up in the age gap y'all it's just for backstory purposes because this story is eventually going to follow canon events.... (also i know that this doesn't really portray Mandalore correctly, but let's pretend it does because i had this idea)

[moonydaydreams]

𝐣𝐮𝐱𝐭𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮

Fandom: It Lives In the Woods

Pairing: MC x Noah, MC x Connor (past)

Words: 7.363 (holy cow)

Summary: Lightning never strikes the same place twice, but a second chance does. Even for someone like Noah Marshall.

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, angst 101 and swearing for dummies

Author’s note: This is my first Choices story and, holy cannoli, this is longer than I intended to be. But nonetheless, this an AU of what could have been had neither Noah or MC sacrificed themselves to take Jane’s place (THIS IS, IN ANOTHER WORD, A FORM OF DENIAL, Y'ALL. CAUSE THAT ENDING WRECKED ME) and Noah fled from Westchester. I’m sorry if the characters seem OOC or the story feels meh. So if you’re digging it or simply detest it, let me know, yeah? thanks!

———————————————————————————–

In a city where the subway stations smell like after-shave and peanut butter and jelly breath smelling college students at nine in the morning, and half of the street names that he still can’t recall to this day, a young man in a beanie, who couldn’t have been more than twenty or twenty-one enters a small 24/7 convenience store with his hands thrust deep inside his coat pockets.

A burly, beer-swilling, 6 feet of a man behind the cashier, elbow-deep in the football magazine in his last season’s Real Madrid jersey, glances up from his reading upon his arrival. His eyebrows narrow.

“Never seen you visiting this late,” Romero comments dryly over the trip-hop music that is playing over the speakers and flicked his eyes back to the magazine. “Did you accidentally shoot your dealer or some shit?“

Romero’s attempt on making small talks with him, albeit as condescending as it sounds, does not fall on deaf ears. But it’s cold outside and he’s hungry and broke, he simply doesn’t have the will to entertain him.

“Shut up. I’m hungry,” replies the young man, stopping by the instant food section. His eyes finding the many varieties of flavors and brands and feels his stomach sick at the amount of artificial food he’s been consuming over the years. It’s like being eight all over again.

“Well, knock yourself out. We just stocked up those crazy spicy Korean ramen you kids can’t seem to stop feeding.” Romero’s face breaks into a mocking grin. “Can’t wait to see you all die from cancer.”

“Instant noodles don’t directly cause cancer on its own, actually.”

Romero burst into laughter. “And how the fuck does a two-bit junkie like you know that, Malcolm?”

The boy’s face involuntarily twitches.

And it isn’t because of how alien the sound when someone addresses him with his fake name or how Romero somehow thinks he has his character all figured out. The thing about living in incognito for years, he’s already become accustomed to those; to prejudices and living up to the persona that people design for him just to inflate their egos and ward them off of his tail in the process. No one wants to affiliate themselves with “the junkie” or “the hot-headed mechanic with suicidal tendencies” and he is more than fine with his solitary.

No. It is the nature of the question that throws him off guard and how his mind all too soon, against his better wishes, refers to her.

Suddenly, he is Noah again. Thirteen years ago at the age of eight, looking out of the window with Jane as they watched a girl about their age in a short tutu dress and combat boots climbing up the oak tree in their backyard to save a distressed kitten.

Their parents saw this, did a double-take, went hysterical and called her parents. He later learned her name was Liz and that she’d just moved into the neighborhood a week ago.

Then he sees Liz again, now a few months after their first encounter, running off to the forest with Jane’s arm linked with hers. He remembers her messy braided hair and freckles multiplied by the sun as they led Noah and the rest of their friends to abandoned ruins they’d somehow stumbled on a week ago. 

His memory of her somehow jumps forward. Now, he sees her in a different light, a different vignette. It is from three years ago this time and she was no longer the Liz all knees, elbows and mud on her shoes young girl from his childhood. She was Liz, on the edge of seventeen, her hair nine shades lighter than when she was a kid (she also had bangs now) with a barbed wire bat in her left hand, and a fire axe in the other, but still the same dark-eyed sprite that made his cold, dead heart skip a beat whenever she looked at his way and smiled that smile of hers; the kind that radiated her cheeks and lit up her eyes. 

The same light that he watched slowly waning from her eyes when she discovered his ulterior plan. 

His heart feels like shattering into smithereens all over again. He doesn’t realize he’s been squeezing on the noodle packet too tight until he hears the contents shatter in his hand. 

“A friend told me,” Noah finds himself saying even before his brain can halt it. Staring blankly at the packet, his mouth dropping into a frown.

He can feel Romero’s gaze on him, curious and confused. Shifting between the packet in his hand and his glazed-over expression. Noah, realizing he’s just projected his emotion right out in the open, huffs and throws the squeezed noodle packet into his shopping basket. 

Romero clears his throat. “Sounds like quite a friend.”

Noah pretends as if the jig isn’t exactly up and decides to actively ignore the older man. He gets the rest of his needs, holding the last of his composure against slipping and brings his groceries to the cashier, looking down at his feet whenever Romero glances at him in genuine concern.

“Catch ya later, Malcolm,” Romero says as he hands Noah the change. “And, uh… stay safe, you hear me?”

Noah, in return, only nods his thanks, probably a little too curt according to the polite society and leaves.

Outside, thunder begins to roll overhead. Noah eyes the sky nervously. It’s going to rain soon. And hard judging from the way the clouds are moving across the black midnight sky.

Noah rifles for his cigarette pack from his pockets, lights one and begins making his way back to his hellhole of an apartment. Treading slowly through the deserted streets, steering clear from alley-ways and suspicious characters until he can see the window of his apartment.

Then, Noah’s feet skid to a hard stop.

His jaw drops, his cigarette falling unheeded to the ground.

Sitting on the front steps of his apartment building is Liz, swathed in an oversized overcoat, her head leaning onto the railings, she seems to be sleeping.

What in the sweet fuck?

For a good minute, Noah stands stock-still. He simply gazes at his former best friend, nonplussed and borderline panicking. A migraine begins to form in his head. He gazes over his shoulder, watching and waiting for anyone to jump at him from the alley or anything, because there is no way in hell this is not a trap. This can’t be. 

He waits and waits, but no one comes out. Confused, Noah looks at her again, his expression inscrutable. If this is not a trap, then this must be a cruel dream the universe pulls on him for all the wrongdoings he has committed in his life. That, or Noah must have tragically died on his way back home and ascended to heaven. 

But then, if this is heaven, why is he here?

Eventually, Noah kneels before her. He reaches his hand out to her, hesitating mid-move and touches her shoulder.

“Liz?” he gives her shoulder a gentle shake. “Liz, wake up.”

She does. Slowly, her eyes flutter open, bleary and brown, and meets his gaze for the first time in three years. Noah feels like his breath stuck in his throat.

“Noah?” Liz blinks sleepily, twice, then yawns into the back of her hand. “What time is it?”

He glances at his phone. “A quarter past two.”

Liz’s brows furrow. “Huh. What were you doing out so late?”

“Had to do a supply run.” Noah gestures to the shopping bag in his hand. Then, “Liz, what are you doing here?” he asks, his voice a broken whisper.

Liz doesn’t answer his question, merely wraps her arms around herself, attempting to keep warm and sighs tiredly.

“Noah, can we go inside?” she pleas, instead. Desperation fuelling her voice. “I’m tired and cold and I…” she trails off.

Consideration flashes in Noah’s eyes for a moment. The logical part of his head insists for him to take her to the nearest train station and send her off back to Westchester. It’s the right thing to do. Considering that he’s been laying low for years now, the last thing he needs to add to his ongoing headache is for the police to suspect that she’s an accomplice.

But he’s never been the wiser one.

So, he takes her gloved hand and helps her to stand and, after giving one last look at their surroundings, of course, ushers her inside the apartment building. 

Neither says anything as they make their way to the staircase, as they venture through the grimy hallway where the dim and shadowed lights overhead following their every step like vultures and past the occupied doors where a loud, sexual moan comes from behind one of them.

She doesn’t make any comment about the awful state of the place he lives in, while he simply doesn’t have the capacity to be embarrassed because everything happens so sudden, Noah himself is still second-guessing if any of this is real. 

Finally, they stop by his door. Noah produces the key from his wallet when he hesitates, remembering the state of the room the last time he left it.

“A bit of warning, though…” He rubs his neck, embarrassed. “it’s pretty messy inside.”

“It’s fine.”

Noah turns the key and eases the door open.

The rain has started to pour. Noah turns the side lamp on and takes off his coat, his groceries on top of the kitchen counter. He watches as Liz, as if in a daze, tosses her coat and gloves to his bed and walks towards the direction of the window. A hand against the windowpane, the flare of the street lamp outside illuminating her features in the dimness, she silently watches as the rain falls on the pavement. Lost somewhere in the tangled cobwebs of her thoughts.

And it occurs to Noah that she is no longer Liz, on the edge of seventeen with a barbed wire bat in her left hand, and a fire axe in the other. She is Liz, older, with circles under her eyes, the world on her shoulders and a few pounds lighter than he remembers, but still the same dark-eyed sprite and with the pale shades of haired girl that he yearns to wrap his arms around and tells her how sorry he is for all those years ago, for leaving without saying a proper goodbye and how all these years it is her that keeps him going through every day and drives him insane at the same time. 

But he can only remain in his place and forces to quell his desire to do the aforementioned. Because Noah’s pretty sure that privilege is long gone the moment his betrayal came to light. Even to be standing in the very room with her is a crime, yet here they are.

Here she is.

“Liz?“ 

“Yeah?”

“Have you, uh,” his gaze finds the ramen packets, suddenly feeling inspired. “Have you eaten anything?”

She is silent for a while. “No.”

“I’m making ramen, you want some?” 

“Okay.” 

With that, Noah rolls up his sleeves, takes two eggs and a few vegetables from the fridge and begins to work. He ditches the salty packet of MSG and makes his own broth while at the same time, mincing the garlic and green onion and grating the ginger. By the time he sautées the aromatics, Liz makes a beeline from the window and hops onto the counter, watching him distractedly as he continues cooking. 

She stays silent and so does he. Despite the lack of words, everything feels strangely… domestic? Under different circumstances, Noah can easily get used to this; him cooking for her, with her becoming his taste tester whenever he’s experimenting with new recipes he finds on the internet and simply impresses her on a daily basis. Yeah, he can definitely get used to that.

Ten minutes passed, Noah then moves the ‘upgraded ramen’ to the bowls and serves one to her. The taste will probably pale in comparison to the one that her mom used to make, yet it earns him her first smile of the night, albeit small and closed-mouthed, it’s still a smile nonetheless. 

He grabs two cans of beer from the fridge and moves onto the couch with her. They finish their meal within minutes, still in silence. For a moment, the only sound that encompasses the room is the rain and his next-door neighbor who has the TV going in full-blast. That asshole.

Noah reaches out for a cigarette pack from the coffee table, dexterously flicks his wrist so a single one pops halfway out of the carton. He casts her a sidelong glance.

“Do you mind if I…?” he trails off, gesturing to the cigarette. 

Liz’s stare zeroes on the cancer stick, scowling, as if she doesn’t approve of this vice of his, but shrugs nonetheless. 

“So, how, uh…” Noah clears his throat, gathering his courage. How does he do this? How do you break the ice with your former best friend who you happen to have a crush on for more than a decade and almost murdered because your dead twin sister compelled you to do so without being awkward? 

“How are you, by the way?“ he manages to ask behind a plume of smoke. 

“I’m doing okay,” she says but in a tone when someone is obviously not okay.

“Just okay?”

“I…” she hesitates. “Yeah, just okay.” Liz lies and manages a weak smile. Noah decides not to press for more information. “Though I’ve been busy these days. I’m trying to finish my dissertation sometime around next year.”

"Already?” And she nods. Noah whistles, obviously impressed. "I’m guessing you did take the English major?”

Liz’s eyes widened slightly. “You remember." 

"Yeah.” Noah looks down. Of course he remembers, not when it’s impossible to forget the very idea of Liz Mortimer. “And your old man doesn’t try to fight you for this?”

“Nope. After Ja–” she clamps her mouth shut. “I graduated, let’s just say he had a hard time saying no to me.” She chuckles, but just for a good three seconds and Noah doesn’t have to ask why to know the reason behind her father’s sudden change of heart.

“How about you?” she asks, then shakes her head. “I mean, how are you?” She amends.

Heaven knows I’m always miserable, Liz. But he doesn’t say that. “I’m okay, too, I guess." 

"Just okay?” Liz parrots his own words at him and he smiles, the left side of his mouth higher than the right. They may still be painfully awkward to one another, but it feels so good to be talking with her again.

“Nothing new under the sun for me, but I’m thriving. And, um, how’s the others?” a.k.a the bunch of group of friends I hurt.

“They’re alright. Lily started her own video game called Pixie Moon, which I have no doubt will take the world by storm the way Candy Crush did; Ava is writing a book about witch trials; Stace is studying journalism and basically kicking ass; Dan is pursuing psychology; His majesty King Kang himself is playing for the Bighorns; and Lucas, as you can expect, is off to save our earth.”

Noah swallows the information one by one. His face an inscrutable blank. All of his friends somehow have found a place on this earth, they all have moved on except for him, again, who’s still scratching around in the same old hole; his future derived, his past an endless pitfall.

“And Connor?” he asks quietly, when in truth he doesn’t give two-shits about the man. But he knows she does, and Noah loves her too much to let his jealousy dictate his behavior. 

Suddenly, her face falls. Teeth chewing nervously on her lower lip. “He's… fine. He’s probably at home now as we speak.“

“And now you’re a long way from home.”

“So are you.”

Noah shakes his head. “Westchester stopped being my home the moment I turned eight.” He sighs forlornly, looks the other way, hands fidgeting. Force of habit. “Liz, as much as I’m glad to see you, but why did you come here?”

“How long have you been staying here?” Liz evades his question as if he never asked it in the first place.

Noah raises an eyebrow, exhales, but decides to play along. “Since August. So that’s two months. Probably, the longest I have ever stayed in one place.”

“Where have you been all this time?”

“Well, there was Utah and Kansas. Then Minnesota for a couple of weeks, but I couldn’t stand the cold and the rest is history,” he keeps his answer as vague as possible, not when he still has no idea the nature of her visit. “Look, why are you here?”

But still, the girl dodges his question. “Why do you–”

Until his patience can’t simply take it anymore. 

Noah is all but scoots over to her position until their knees are touching, the cigarette forgotten on the ashtray, and grips her arms firmly. His eyebrows knitted as he takes in her stunned face. 

“Liz.” There is a twinge of anger, confusion and desperation in the way he says her name this time. “Why are you here? You know you can’t be here. Goddamn it! If the fucking cops find out that you’re here…” Once he realizes what he is doing, he withdraws his hands as if she’s fire and now he’s burning.

“They won’t. I can assure you that." 

"You don’t know that.”

“I know what I’m doing, Noah. Trust me, I wouldn’t have come here if I knew it’s not safe,” Liz replies, her tone doesn’t leave any room for doubts and he knows there is no way to talk his way around it. Not to mention, he trusts her, if there is anyone who can sneak behind authority and get away with it, it has to be her.

Noah shrugs, agreeable, but he isn’t going to let her off so easily. 

“How did you find me, anyway?” he questions, reaching for his cigarette and takes a deep, long drag just to spite his throat. He has a feeling he might be smoking his misery away all night by the time she’s left.

The blonde-haired girl shrugs and absentmindedly leans her back against the couch, one arm wraps around her midsection. “It wasn’t easy, actually. But I made some new friends in Pine Springs and one of them is acquainted with the newly-minted Police Chief. Pulled a few strings and here we are.” 

“Pine Springs? What the heck were you doing there?”

“It's… a long story. But there were people there needing my help, and in exchange, they helped me track you down. An eye for an eye.”

Lightning suddenly jags across the night sky, briefly illuminating the room, pulling him out of his musings. She jumps at the sound, startled, and instinctively reaches for his hand. Noah freezes at the contact, forgetting how her skin feels like on his or a decent human contact in general. It’s been so long. And somehow he loses the ability to speak, to think.

He definitely doesn’t think when Noah moves his hand under hers, intertwining their fingers together.

Noah feels her head moving, her eyes darting from their joined hands and to his face that turns into a parade of expressions– misery, regret and melancholy. The holy trinity of feelings he’s been bearing for the past three years– for the past thirteen years of his life, actually– and feels her hand squeezing back his. 

“Christ, I can’t believe you went all through that shit just to find me,” he croaks, all but on the verge of tears. “And I left you just like that even without saying sorry.”

“Noah…”

“No, let me say it, Liz. I need to say it.” His hands are trembling, his composure this close from crumbling. “What I did was unforgivable. And I know there is nothing in this world that could help me undo the damage I’ve done to you and how I’ll spend the rest of my day regretting it, but regardless, I’m sorry,” he sobs, his whole body is shaking by now. 

“I’m so sorry for the nightmare I put you through. I was so blinded by my own volition and revenge for Jane’s death that I hurt you, all of you in the process without giving a single rat’s ass about it.” Noah pauses, wipes his tears with the back of his hand. “I’m a monster, Liz. A selfish, heartless, miserable monster. God, I should have died that night.”

“Hey, hey, look at me.” She plucks the cigarette from his other hand, discards it on her empty bowl and places her other hand on his shoulder. “Noah, look at me,” she says again, her voice like a caress. He looks up. “Don’t say that. You are not a monster. You’re just a byproduct of the pain from losing your sister, loneliness and bad parenting. That doesn’t make you a monster. That makes you human.”

“A normal human being wouldn’t lure his friends into abandoned ruins in the middle of a fucking forest where his sister died and put their lives hang in the balance.”

“No, they wouldn’t, but if there is anything Dan taught me is that people react to loss in different ways.”

Noah groans and pushing himself to his feet. “No, don’t try to find a way to justify this. Didn’t you forget, I could have killed you that night. You! The- the only one who gives a fuck whether I’m breathing or not.” The only one who matters. “If you hadn’t stopped her… God, I don’t even want to go there.“

She gets up from the couch as well. “I’m not justifying anything. Yes, what you did to us was… It was harrowing, it was despicable but I also knew the extent of your agony that drove you to do it. I understand… and like what I said that night in the cave; it’s not your fault. Not exclusively, at least. And I forgive you for it.”

“Liz–”

“No, listen to me, we all made mistake–”

He snorts. “Not on a grand scale like this, I bet.”

“Maybe not. But the fact that you give a shit and beat yourself up for years for what you did, that already speaks a lot,” she says. “You’ve tormented yourself enough. It’s not going to do you anything good. It’s not going to erase anything. What you need to do now is to close that book. Get a new one, write a new story, move on. I have forgiven you, I’m sure the others have forgotten about what happened until someone mentions it, it’s your turn now.”

Her words hit him like a piledriver and for the first time in probably like forever, he does feel slightly better. Even if only an infinitesimal amount and even he may won’t be forgiving himself anytime soon, but still, hearing those words coming from her mouth mean the whole world to him. 

“Why did you really come here, Liz?” The question is a tad out of place, but it feels like their previous conversations were made entirely to build up for this. 

Her frown melts away, replaced with somewhere between doubt and conflict. He holds her gaze for a minute, undeterred, then she turns her back on him to face the window once more. The suspense gnaws at him, yet still, he bides his time. 

“I have something to tell you,” she finally says, keeping her voice low.

“What is it?” He replies rather impatiently. When she seems to be hesitating, he adds, “And don’t beat around the bush, Liz.”

A deep breath, foot taps, a hand clutching at the hem of a buttoned-up dress and another deep breath. 

“Connor proposed to me.”

A beat. Then,

“Oh,” and it’s barely audible. And Noah feels like his heart has been torn from his chest, thrown into the ground, drags it through the mud then stomps on it for good measure. And that he feels worse and emptier than he was before she came here. “Congratulations.”

The words that come out of his mouth could have been his, because he can barely hear his own voice in this white noise. He always knew Connor and her were smitten with each other the moment she stepped into the hardware store for the first time, but Noah doesn’t expect it all would extend to marriage.

She looks over her shoulder, half-turned, one eye on him. “I wasn’t finished.”

Noah blinks at her, momentarily confused. “What?”

“I…” her voice wavers. When she turns to face him again, she is pinching the bridge of her nose. Her eyes scrunched up. “Ah, fuck this is never going to be easy. Long story short, I freaked out, made a scene at a restaurant, ended our three-year on-and-off relationship and went here.”

“Wait, what?”

Liz shrugs, guiltily, all Atlas-and-the-weight-of-the-world.

“Yeah,” she, much to his surprise (and concern), chokes a laughter, manic and loud. “Yeah, I did it. I fucked up the longest relationship I’ve ever had and broke my best friend’s brother’s heart because I wasn’t ready, because I’m an idiot.” When she does look at him, her eyes are bright. “Because I’m in love with someone else.”

For a brief, candid moment, Noah’s brows furrow as his mind goes to one of his former friends. Is it Dan? Ava? Or could it be Lucas? Because the last time he saw them together, they were pretty inseparable– although their relationship is strictly platonic as far as he’s concerned. Has that dynamic changed after he left? 

Then Noah realizes her eyes are still on him– and quite expectantly, that is, and that’s not… no, that can’t be right, can it? 

His demeanor shifts drastically as he stands there, stunned silence. Disarmed by her confession. 

He tries to speak, but his jaw won’t shut back to its place; his brains short-circuiting.

“Yes, I have loved you ever since I’ve known you, Noah Marshall,” Liz mutters when he remains silent. He can tell this is something she’s been holding in for a long time. “Even though we hadn’t spoken to each other for years after Jane, there hadn’t been a day that I didn’t think of you. When we finally reconnected three years ago, I wanted to say all these things to you, but..” she smiles wistfully. “Well, shit happened.”

“Why?” Of all the people you could have fallen in love with, why me? What he means to ask.

“Because you understand me like no one else; because you climbed up to my window to bring me your homemade grilled cheese sandwich when I was grounded when we were 8; because you actually listened and showed me that my vulnerability doesn’t always have to be my weakness; because I love the way you wear your beanie like 24/7 and the way you shake my hair whenever I say something stupidly amusing to you. Because it’s you!”

“No.” It’s a denial, it’s an attempt to ward her off from someone like him. It’s a lie. “No, no, no, no, no, Liz, you can’t fall in love with someone who’s-who’s mentally unstable or tried to kill you in the past, that’s like…” he gesticulates wildly. “Crazy! You are crazy!”

“I’m sorry, are you any better?”

“Of course not! But to forgive me is one thing, Liz, to love me, that’s a whole different level of insanity.” Noah begins to pace agitatedly around the room back and forth. “Fuck. I can’t hear this. Not from you.”

“Why not?” He sees the hurt expression on her face. Then interrupts just as soon as he opens his mouth. “Noah, I’m not asking for your answer this instance–heck, I’m not even asking you to reciprocate my feelings, but please don’t invalidate my emotions. Not when I waited for years to say it to you.”

“But this fucking complicates everything!” Noah points out.  

“Maybe. Maybe not, but you don’t know that,” she says resolutely, echoing his words from before. 

Noah doesn’t say anything in return.

She steps closer and slowly raises her palm to cup his cheek, an attempt to calm the storm within him. His hand grasps her wrist before she can make contact. 

“Noah–" 

His breathing quickens. Noah swallows and shakes his head.

“Liz, we can’t do this. No matter…” he sighs, his eyes boring into hers. Here he is, again, dangling on the edge of damnation, of what’s right and wrong. It’s wrong, yet he knows that she knows, from the heat and electricity that dance between them, from the pressure of his fingers that tell different stories, that he, too, wants the same thing.

“No matter what, Noah?” She murmurs, staring up at him with hopeful eyes. She really wants him to say it, does she?

He extricates her hand from him, taking steps back, putting as much distance he can from her. “Forget it.”

“Look, Noah, if you feel what I think you’re feeling, then what is it that you’re afraid of?" 

Noah whirls around to face her again. "Everything! Can’t you see that if we do this, the world will turn against us?" 

“Since when do you care about other people’s opinions?”

“I wasn’t worrying about me.”

"Well, I don’t give a fuck what others or this thrice-damned world thinks!” she exclaims mulishly. “After all we’ve been through, is it so wrong to be selfish, to follow your own heart just once– just once? Is it– don’t you care about what you want?”

“I want-” Noah stops. His hands tugging at his red beanie cap. “Never mind what I want.”

Her voice is quieter now. “What do you want, Noah?”

For an interminable moment, heavy with the promise of both release and regret, he only stares at her. Contemplating his options.

Perhaps loving her shouldn’t be the sin he thought it was, especially when she wants the same thing in return. Although he’s more than aware that he’s the last person in this world who deserves her affection, but deep down, Noah knows that he’ll never forgive himself if he didn’t run the risk now and spent the rest of his life wondering what it felt like instead.

“You.” Always you.

She holds his gaze. “Then have me.”

And as if an unknown force was taking over his body, Noah crosses the distance between them, his free hands cradling her face, drawing her close and kisses her.

It’s like a dam breaking, everything floods out. They do not kiss gently, desperation orchestrating their every move that the world around him grows distant and dim.  Twelve years of pining for each other, of secretive glances, of murder attempt and mutual misery and it all leads them to this. His thumb skimming the curve of her throat and feels her pulse leaps. He stops. Worrying if he’s crossed the line.

But Liz grabs the front of his clothes, pulling him even closer– as if they aren’t close enough– and kisses him back with a matching fervor. Her body pressed against his, warm and unfamiliarly familiar, and Noah swears his heart skips when she emits a quiet desperate noise that he happily swallows. 

Suddenly, Noah pulls back. “Liz, I’m sorr–” he says breathlessly.

“No, don’t you dare apologize,” she says firmly, her lips still tinged pink from their kiss. “I… I started this.” Her tongue darted out over her lips. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I want this.” Noah’s hands dropped to her waist, his cheeks burned. He’s inexperienced, yes, and it shows, yes, but this is Liz. The last thing she does is to laugh at his face about it. “You?”

“You have no idea.”

His cheeks grow redder. “I’m, uh… now what?" 

"I think,” she leans in, tiptoeing, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders and playfully says, “I want you to kiss me again.”

Noah grins, more relaxed now knowing he has her consent. “I think I can provide that.”

He let her set the pace this time. Kissing him softly and sweetly, but as equally mind-blowing as the first time before the next thing he knows, they are kissing senselessly once more; the next thing he knows, she swipes her tongue on his lower lip. Drawing a surprised groan from him. His lips instinctively open up to her ministrations and he is rendered weak when Noah feels her warm tongue delves into his mouth. He tries to follow her example, but can hardly navigate through his own mind every time.

He can feel her fingers toying and tugging his beanie off, her nails grazing his scalp and his desire rocketed. And this time, Noah isn’t afraid to act, as his hands on her waist slowly glide upward; from her hips to her ribs, stopping just under her breasts which results in Liz’s breath to hitch in his mouth. His mouth travels down her jaw, the length of her neck, her collarbone. 

When he finds himself on the bed, on his back, and Noah has absolutely zero clue how or when he got that way. 

He sits up. Without thinking, grabs her hips to pull her onto his lap, hands rough, settling her against him as he tips her head upward and continues his onslaught on her neck. Her hands on his shoulders, coming up to the strands of his hair. Encouraging him, guiding him lower and lower until his mouth reaches her clothed breast. 

“Oh my god.” Liz’s eyes closed in pure bliss, caught up in the sensation, and ground her hips against him and, fucking hell, the friction feels so good and erotic and sets his entire being alight that Noah isn’t fast enough to stop the low, rumbling moan that comes from his mouth. 

“Fuck,” Noah swears and rolls his hips in response. At this rate, even if he wants to, he can’t hide the evidence of his physical desire, growing hard against her, making her produce these small high-pitched gasps every time his bulge brushes her just right, her pupils blown to hell and fucking fuck.

He is dry humping Liz. Liz. His sister’s best friend. His Achilles’ fricking heel. Good fuck, if Jane was still alive, what would she say about this?

“Noah?” She whispers.

He doesn’t realize he’s been lost in his own thoughts. “Sorry.” Noah mentally clears his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to space out on you back there.”

She stares at him, seemingly unconvinced. “Did I go too far?" 

"What? No, no, you are incredible. Don’t worry.” To prove his point, he gives her thigh a distracting squeeze. “Liz, what if I say I want more? What if I say that I want you?”

Liz is quiet for a while. “Are you sure?" 

"Yeah. I know the last time we met I said I wasn’t ready for dating and stuff, but it’s you. And if you’re up for it, I’m game, but if you–” Liz chuckles at his stammering. Whispering “You’re fucking adorable” as Noah groans and hides his face on the crook of her neck. “Liz, you’re fucking driving me out of my mind here.”

“Well, I’m game.” Liz leans in and kisses his temple. Noah can practically hear her smile from here. “You know, for someone who seemed adamant on pushing me away, you’re awfully eager.”

He grins, running his finger down her spine until every hair in her body stood up. “Keep teasing me, and you’ll regret it, Mortimer.”

“Bite me, Marshall.”

Noah does bite, literally, on that delicious spot under her ear before flipping her onto her back on the bed, making her giggle like a drunken schoolgirl; making her dress hike up to her thigh, just enough for him to see her underwear. He settles himself atop her, right between her legs. His hips and an unmistakable hardness press firmly against her soft thighs. 

This is it, then. The wheels are in motion now and Noah can scarcely believe this is happening.

She props up on her elbows and begins undoing the buttons of her dress with great speed, eyes never leaving his until she pulls him for another searing kiss. Then Liz raises her legs, wrapping them around his waist and rolls her hips once more.

She moans softly, as Noah’s mouth trails wet kisses down her throat, nipping and sucking as he goes, until it finds its way to her nipple. He bucks up into her, growling, as he takes her other nipple in his mouth. His shaky hand makes to drop her legs away from his waist, yanks the hem of her dress upward and dips between her legs, slipping past the waistband of her underwear to touch her that she jolts, gasping and moaning loudly altogether. 

Liz writhes, her hands clutching onto his sweatshirt like a lifeline, head tilted back as her hips involuntarily move against his hand, desperate for relief. Noah inserts two fingers, watching with heated gaze for her reaction as he pumps in and out, long and slow, short and fast. Pushes deeper, crooks his fingers a little. The rough pad of his thumb rubbing her clit in fast circles until her moan grows increasingly loud and she comes hard, shattering into Noah’s fingers. 

When it’s over, Liz is a panting, limp noodle.  She lays there, properly spent, smiling contently at the ceiling with heavy, bedroom eyes. Noah hovers above her, kissing her nose with a newfound satisfaction as he watches her trying to even her erratic breaths.

“Whoa.” She breathes out. “I guess I should have known those hands weren’t made only for kitchen knives.” And lazily wraps her arms around his neck. “Jesus, I’m wasted.”

His teeth gently nibbling her earlobe, his hand teasing her nipple again. “I’m nowhere near done with you.” Fingers trailing down to her warm, still over-sensitive slit again that Liz shudders like a flower. “Not even close.”

“I can’t–” And Noah freezes, thinking if he’s gone too far. “No more foreplay. Fuck me, Noah. Now. Please, I want you.”

In an uncontrolled frenzy, Noah pulls away from her, removes his sweatshirt while Liz assists with the buttons of his shirt. He works on his belt, freeing his member from the tight confines of his jeans and pulls her panties over her knees. Not bothering with the rest of her dress.

They kiss again as he repositions himself above her. Liz’s hand reaches down to grab him, guides the head toward her entrance, her legs once again settling around his waist. 

In his head, Noah mentally prepares himself, counts to five, then slides his girth into her. The two groan in unison at the joining.

“Jesus fuck.” Noah’s head flops forward, jaw clenching. He is inside her, and it feels a dizzying kind of spectacular. “Fuck, Liz, you feel so good.”

Below him, a crackling gasp escapes her lips, her mouth drops into a perfect circle as her head falls back to the bed and looking oh so beautiful. Noah begins to rock his hips into her, the strands of his brown hair brushing against her damp forehead, the parts of his brain that enable him to think slowly shut down. His hand wanders to touch every part of her body.

Everything is on fire. Everything feels so fucking good.

“Look at me.” She does, through lidded eyes, lashes heavy with arousal. “Say my name.” Noah never really thought he would be this vocal in bed, but there’s just something about Liz that brings this side of him. “Say it, Liz.”

“Noah,” Liz moans his name, clinging to him like mad, nails raking his back. “Noah, shit. Faster.”

Noah wordlessly obliges, liking the way she thrashes underneath him. Her breaths coming faster, higher so he moves even faster, pounding into her with reckless abandon just to show her how much strength he has. He finds himself growling rather animalistic against her skin, biting her shoulder. Feeling himself drawing closer and closer to the edge. He isn’t going to last any longer.

He puts a hand between them to rub her clit and Liz’s eyes roll back.

“Ooohh, god. N-noah!” she cries out, her words quickly morphed into a desperate wail. "Don’t stop, don’t stop, oh, please!”

Liz is a blubbering mess, screaming against the pillow. It is too much. The combination of his cock fucking her mercilessly and the friction his fingers provided on her sensitive spot is enough to make the girl convulse pathetically on the bed. 

When she comes, he follows not long after. Going rigid and groaning gutturally in her ear, emptying himself inside her.

When the ripples have passed, Noah collapses on top of her. Both panting and sweating from… whatever is it that just happened between them. Liz cradles him against her breasts, peppering tired kisses to his hair that is now sticking out wildly in every direction, locking him in her embrace, their left hands intertwining.

They stay like that for a few minutes, in a very much comfortable silence since she first set her foot here before Noah rolls to the side on the bed.

“Holy shit, we just had sex,” he says when he’s regained the power to speak again.

Liz chuckles and turns to face his side, sticking one of her legs between his while he pulls the covers over their forms. “Yep. Though, honestly, I never would have thought we’d end up having sex when I came here tonight.”

“Liz, I didn’t even know you’d be coming over. I can safely say tonight has been one hell of a surprise after another.”

She doesn’t say anything. At least not for a while.

“I hope you know I meant every word that I say to you,” she says kindly. “You’re not the villain in the story, but neither you are the hero. You are human, with your flaws and all, and I love you despite all of it.”

“Except you. You are an angel, Liz.”

“Noah, I basically turned down Connor’s marriage proposal, broke up with him and went straight into your arms in a matter of days.” She sighs guiltily. “No, we all just wear our demons differently.”

“Maybe. But you said it yourself, we are all just humans with our flaws and all. But you,” Noah turns and cups her cheeks in his hands. “you will always be an angel in my book. You saved me, Liz. When the whole world raised their torches and forks on me, you freaking saved me where you could have fed me to the mob. You’re the reason why I’m still here today and I love you for it, you hear me?” He pulls her into his arms when a tear starts to fall from her eye. 

“I’m so in love with you, Elizabeth Mortimer. Always have and always will.” He kisses her cheek. “You’re the kindest, most beautiful, the brightest human being I’ve ever known. I’m the luckiest person to have you be in love with me and if you’re up for it, I want to build a world around you.” He adds, “Instant noodles included.”

Liz laughs, still teary-eyed, shoves him playfully on the shoulder, feigning a glare. “You jerk. Always have the flair to ruin a moment.”

Noah chuckles. “Technically, you love instant noodles, so it’s only right, don’t you think?” She shoves him again. “And I’m your jerk now.”

“My jerk.” Yet she says it the same way someone says ‘my love’. “I love you too, Noah Marshall. And I want to build that world together with you.”

Noah smiles. Because he loves her and because for the first time in forever, his life makes fucking sense.  

Yes, he doesn’t know whether their relationship will last or will it crash and burn in the future, but at this exact moment, he’s happy and it seems that she does too. And that is all that matters now.

And if there is one thing that he’s sure of is that he knows that he doesn’t ever want to let this go. Not in a million years.